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snailsandpuppy-dogtails · 9 months

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Oops

A year ago, Oops was posted to Ao3. It's my only 4+1 things. 5,932 words of Garvez, humor, feelings denial, the whole cast, all while accidentally injuring Kevin Lynch, it's easy to see why this was a much enjoyed fic.

ONE

"I’m sorry, he did what? He said what? After she was shot by a date he broke into her apartment, shut off the breaker, lurked in the dark, and then told her she was overreacting?! And you all didn’t murder him? Morgan didn’t break his face pushing him down the stairs?”

Luke's feeling on Battle's fate was undeniable when told, but hearing what she was made to put up with after, from someone who purported to love her, awashed him with new bitterness.

“She didn’t tell us until a lot later. I think she knew some of us would have come close to losing our jobs.”

Throw.

Catch.

Throw.

Catch.

“...the way she’s THEE soundbite for work-place sexual harassment.”

Luke laughed, ducking his head. Catch. Throw.

“It cooled off after you left, and I was definitely never a recipient.”

Catch. Morgan’s eyebrows raised. “Huh.” Throw.

They were in the empty gym tossing a baseball back and forth. Morgan was in town doing some consulting work for the FBI. They had started the game up in the BAU office, but were quickly pushed down to “a more appropriate place” as Prentiss put it. One close call too many and “other people trying to work”. The two men had some familiarity before Morgan left and Luke joined, but grew closer through the group chat Garcia resistantly added Luke to and refused to take Morgan from.

“She slipped up once though, and started to” a lopsided smile appearing at the memory.

Catch.

“then caught herself and told me: That sounded like flirting. I don’t do that with you. It’s in my mission statement.”

Throw.

Catch. Morgan shook his head. “Baby Giiiiirl”

Throw.

They were moving back and forth, throws alternating from hard to soft. Conversation had gone from family life, to the job, to reminiscing. It was an easy flow of comparison, no pissing contest, neither needing to prove anything to the other. They respected each other, liked one another, understood the stresses of the job they each faced, loved the same people...

“I told her to try being a little more friendly with you.”

Catch.

“Yeah, maybe remind her. Daily.” More laughing.

Throw.

Morgan caught the ball with one hand and twisted his wrist looking at his watch. “It’s Friday night and almost quitting’ time. You think those pencil pushers are gone yet?”

Throw.

“Only one way to find out.” Luke grinned, "Head up?”

They hadn’t bothered to stop the game, toss, catch, toss, catch. Through the hall and up the elevator, seeing the room all clear they continued in throwing.

“Eaaay, Pretty Boy, wanna join in? Jayge?” Rossi and Prentiss watched from the catwalk as the team spread out across the room, ball flying and fumbling.

“So we all goin’ out tonight? Or is it just me and my girl?”

Penelope appeared, all packed up, from around the corner joining Rossi and Emily in watching. “Aww, Sugar, it’s your last night. I thought we were gonna stay in bed and watch a movie.” she simpered.

Throw.

Catch. The game continued around the room.

“Woman, you can’t keep me there all the time. And anyway, I hear you still need bonding practice with my boy here.”

Throw.

Penelope looked from Derek to Luke, Luke making a mocking “told you so” face in return. Catch.

Her eyes narrowed, “We just went out. Fine. Are you all done? Let’s go!” and swept her hand for emphasis, everyone else making for the door.

Spencer had the ball, so took the opportunity for one last toss. He threw it hard, but off center. Luke lunged sideways to catch it, not noticing the scrunched and wide-eyed faces ranging from shock to amusement, only hearing the words “oh shit” and “oh no” too late, his body colliding forcefully into another as he leapt diagonally tackling something large, and soft, and meaty. Another person. They tumbled to the ground Luke on top of Kevin, hand with ball having clocked him directly on the side of his head. Luke looked down hand still gripping ball. “Oooh.” Sorry?”

“That’s why I said GYM!” Emily threw her hands up, vindicated.

What was Kevin doing here so late?

Kevin huffed a laugh, “Can you get off me, Alvez?”

“Right, yeah.” Luke pushed up, stifled laughter and coughs falling around them.

Instinctually, he grabbed the other man and pulled him to his feet, steadying him. He may not like him, but it was a genuine accident and he felt bad.

Alvez, that pretty boy neanderthal from Fugitives Task Force. Kevin didn't like him on principal, hated him now that he'd punched him and then righted him like some child. Completely embarrassing.

Fucking asshole

Everyone liked him, his smug face, his need to be better than everyone else, prove how much stronger and smarter he was. His constant doubting of the information Kevin had given him. It wasn’t his fault a fugitive moved, that’s what they do, that’s why they’re fugitives! He never had a steady girlfriend, he was definitely one of those guys who used a new girl every weekend. And now he was here working with Penelope. His Penelope. He could only imagine what that was like. He knew how she was with Morgan, he could see how easy it would be for her to slip right into that pattern with this one.

Morgan moved closer, arms folded tight across his chest. “Kevin.”

Morgan never did like Kevin for Penelope, found it unbelievable how quickly he moved in on her, felt he was taking advantage of someone who had just experienced serious trauma. Emotions run high during times like that and people form weird bonds. It was the only explanation he could come up with for why Penelope Garcia, brilliant goddess, would forgive him and put up with his bullshit time and time again. But now that they’d been through for a while, years, he wasn’t about to let him slip back in.

“Hey, Morgan.” the man shied away, but straightened up.

“Kevin,” Penelope rushed, “ we were all just leaving. Whatever it is it’ll have to wait until Monday.”

Rossi stepped off the catwalk, tagging team members as he walked, “You heard the Kitten, team. My house for Morgan’s last night.”

Kevin was left standing alone.

TWO

Luke had run into Kevin in the previous divisions he worked in before settling in with BAU. And though he generally liked everyone, he hated Kevin Lynch. Growing up he was aware that his athletic build could be imposing and that his looks could be alienating, so he really did try to be as friendly and open with everyone as possible, let them know he wasn’t an asshole. But not with Kevin Lynch. The stories just added to his dislike, one more piece of evidence tipping the scale out of Kevin’s favor. One more thing that highlighted how self-centered, manipulative, and incompassionate he really was. But he was a professional, so until Kevin showed up on a list somewhere, he wasn’t going to do anything. Kevin wasn’t really his problem, he just tried to stay clear of him as much as possible. Weirdly, that wasn't working out lately.

He rolled over looking at the clock. Fuck. 10 am. He was in so much shit. He had to go. He was late. Why hadn’t his alarm gone off?! Where was Roxie?! Oh, yeah, still at the sitters. Thank god. Luke tore off the blanket, jumped in the ice cold shower, quickly washing down like he’d learned in the military and hopped out. He grabbed a clean gray shirt and jeans, ripped a navy button-up off the hanger, pulled on his boots, and brushed his teeth at the kitchen sink while a cup of instant coffee heated in the microwave. In 5 minutes he was out the door and attempting to avoid mid-morning traffic and collisions.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Thankfully, Emily was pretty understanding, but he really needed to finish up those reports and get them turned in. Like he had planned on doing this morning.

His phone rang while he was driving. He answered, hands-free. “Alvez? Where are you?” came the clipped voice on the other end.

“Sorry, Prentiss, I’m on the highway now… unexpected late start. I’ll be there in 20.”

“As soon as you can. We’re briefing. New case.”

She sounded pissed.

A sick anxiety flooded him. Of course this would happen the one time he woke up late. The one time his alarm didn’t go off or he hadn’t heard it…No time to inspect what really happened there. And now he had to try and fight his way though this traffic and get to work and he couldn’t finish up his paperwork and he would end up getting even more because of the new case. God damn it. He couldn’t catch a break. He swooped into the FBI parking structure, tires squealing as he took turns around poles and pulled into a spot at the far end of the lot. He grabbed his bag and rushed towards the elevator.

Pushing the button, he bounced on his toes.

Come on, come on, come on. Hurry up.

That’s when he noticed the note, the lack of light at the top. Elevator was down for maintenance. He had to take the stairs and use the lobby entrance. As he darted up the stairs taking steps three at a time he couldn’t help but laugh thinking about Garcia in her platform heels climbing these same stairs this morning, coffee and computer in hand. Struggling. Fussing. If he had been on time he might have been able to offer her help in carrying something. Walked up with her. But here he was darting up the dirty cement blocks alone and late. And holding everyone else up.

Light shone through the walls, ground level. He’d made it. Just a few more steps. Luke burst through the stairwell doors, running across the front of the building, reminding himself to walk when he got to the main lobby entrance. Didn’t want to set off alarm bells. Though he was sure they had lots of irritated agents passing through, frustrated at having been inconvenienced.

Luke opened the large glass door, cool air-conditioning hitting him instantly. “Luke Alvez?”

Shit.

His access badge. “Morning, Gina…I..”

She threw her hands up knowing exactly what he was going to say. “Downed elevator’s bringing in all the old faces this morning. Go through the scanners and come see me.” The elevator was adding more time already, he really didn’t have time for pleasantries, but it would take longer to run back down the stairs and then back up again. And it might offend Gina. He quickly offloaded his weapons into the tray and walked through the scanners. All clear. One thing going his way this morning. He collected his stuff and was putting it all back in place while walking over to the older lady.

“I could see you were in a bit of a rush, BAU now huh?” she handed him something to sign. “I cleared you. Sign it and go. But make sure to bring me a coffee some time, yeah?”

Luke beamed at the woman. “Thank you. “

“Oh, hey, Alvez, elevator inside’s down for the next hour too. Gotta take the stairs.” she gave him a tight lipped frown pointing off to the side.

“Fffffuh-“ he sighed, and took long strides towards the stairs, rubber soles of boots gripping and propelling him along the slick tile floor. Shortly he found himself racing up another set of steps, and another, and another until he’d hit the BAU’s level. At this point he gave up all pretense and ran. God, they were going to give him so much crap. He wouldn’t blame them if they had briefed without him and just made him catch up on the jet. There was the door! Luke grabbed it, but something bright and blonde racing along the catwalk on the other side caught his eye and his breath as he was opening it.

He thrust the door inward watching her disappear around the corner, the door meeting a heavy resistance, a loud thunk, and an even louder “OW! What the FUCK!? Alvez?! ”

And there he was.

Kevin Lynch. Gaslighting asshole.

Laying on the floor of the BAU office.

And there she was, head popping back around the corner to investigate.

Luke leaned over, extending a hand as everyone in the office watched in dead silence. “Oh, Lynch. Sorry about that, I didn’t see you...” He was kind of embarrassed, if he hadn’t been watching Penelope he’d have definitely seen Lynch. And though he had new reasons to leave this monster on the floor and walk over him, he was in a governemnt building with lots of on-lookers. Best to make nice and move on.

Kevin ignored the proffered hand getting up on his own, hands going from forehead to nose rubbing, feeling, checking for the blood that was definitely oozing. “The doors are glass, Alvez." he spat “Clear. How could you not?”

Luke bounced from the injured man to Penelope, still peaking out from the corner covering her mouth, eyes squinted … was she laughing? He made sure that her eyes were on his when he made his apology, “Sorry. Distracted.” and brushed past Kevin.

What was he doing up here any way?

Fuck Lynch.

He had a rainbow to catch.

THREE

Luke wasn’t normally accident prone, so she found it pretty suspicious that he kept accidentally injuring Kevin. After JJ recounted the lows in her relationship to him over drinks one night. She thought he sounded a little jealous, looked a little hostile… like she’d been told Derek had when Kevin announced to the whole team they were dating while stepping up to Rossi…after she told him not to. Whatever. But, she shook it off, no reason Luke should be jealous, they were teammates, nothing more.

"You know, if you had a system of organization, you would be less likely to lose things.”

"Spencer, I love you like a brother, but I will hurt you.”

Luke was franticly shuffling manilla files, gray folders, stacking, restacking, unstacking. Desk. Chair. Floor. Open desk drawer, slam it closed.

“What he means is, if you didn’t keep your desk looking like the under side of your teenage bed, you’d know where you put it.”

Luke ran his fingers through his hair pulling, “TARA- Not. Helping.” he gritted out and broke into a strained laugh thinking about the very neat room he kept as a kid, continuing to grab at files, read and toss, read and toss.

“Even now, you’re mixing up stacks! Do you know what you’ve looked at and what you haven’t at this point?” Spencer continued safely from the other side of the cubicle.

Luke broke down collapsing into the chair, head falling into his hands, reports slipping onto the floor, more stressed laughter floating around them. “No. Guys, help me. Or don’t, but I need to find this file, I have to be in court tomorrow.” He wasn’t normally messy, his house was spotless, everything in it’s place. Efficiency. But work had gotten away from him, case after case, file after file, paperwork mounting and more frequent trips away for longer…Things had gotten a bit out of hand at his station. Normally he liked to have everything cleaned up, finished and put away before he left, but they’d been busy so much lately…and now it was missing. And it should have been near the top, if not on the top. He was JUST looking at it yesterday. In this very building.

Tara frowned sipping her coffee, “Alright, just calm down. Relax, close your eyes. Let’s walk through it. Go back to what you last read.”

"You wanna do a cognitive?" he asked, looking at her incredulously.

“Just, go with it. Think about what it said. What you were thinking about. Notice the feel of it in your hands, the object under you. Where are you?”

Luke leaned back in the chair, trying to focus as much as possible, eyes closed, going back. “I’m in the BAU. I know that. Tara, I had it with me yesterday, here. But now it’s not.” He threw his head back frustrated.

“Ok.” Spencer removed his bag, storing it under his desk, “How about we each take a stack. We’ll go through things together. But after, you really need to figure out a system. In box and out box or something.” he suggested.

Tara took a stack of gray files, Spencer took a stack of manilla, and after he’d read and confirmed each was not the right one, he put all of his in chronological order, earliest to latest. And then the ones Tara had gone through, and then the ones Luke was going through. By the end all of Luke’s reports were tidily together, organized and in a manageable order. But that file was still missing. He slumped into the black leather, defeated. “I don’t understand. It should be here. Fuck.”

Tara leaned against the desk, thinking about possible scenarios. They worked in a secure building, it’s not like someone would come take it off his desk. “-Hey…Alvez, did you, maybe, take it home last night?”

“I-.” He didn’t think so, but anything was possible. “I’ll be back, if anyone asks.” and out he raced down the elevator, into the parking lot, and out to his truck.

“So… is he going home?" asked Spencer. Tara clapped him on the back, “Don’t worry about it.”

He rummaged through the center console, felt around and peeked under all his seats, shoved his hands between the cushions, and checked in the seat pockets. Nothing. Of course. Locking the vehicle, he sighed heading back in.

Where could he have left it?

Backpack. If he did bring it home, maybe it was in his bag.

Nervous energy mounted as the elevator slowly climbed higher. He dodged under his desk frantically grabbing at his backpack. His last hope, it had to be there whether he remembered packing it or not.

Please be there Please be there Please be there

Feeling the weight, he knew the answer before ever unzipping it. He squeezed his eyes shut tight willing it by some magic to Mary Poppins itself into life. He thrust his hand in, dug around the familiar textures and shapes. Opened them, pulled it wide and tossed it to the floor.

“FUUU-“ A loud, warbling yell boomed behind him, he turned to see hands grasping wildly at his desk as a large body fell forward, feet tangled in straps. Lynch. Shit. First he punches him, then he plows him down with a glass door, now he trips him with a backpack.

Why was he up here anyway? Wasn’t he supposed to be on level 2?

“Newbie! What are you doing? I mean besides setting up tripping hazards for other employees?” A high, anxious, familiar nagging.

Luke turned his head from the man on the floor to the woman standing feet away, shock and guilt evident on his face. And he couldn’t help it, he started to laugh. It was a little funny, it was kind of like karma. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t looking I didn’t mean to….I was just… I’m trying to find a file!” He wiped the smile off his face turning back to the man, “Lynch, I’m sorry. Here, let me.” He may hate him, but he could be nice for Garcia’s sake. Just because he didn’t like the guy didn’t mean he couldn’t be civil. He reached for Kevin, now on all fours scowling.

“Don’t touch me. Just be more careful.” He reached stinging hands up to the desk pulling himself upright facing Luke.

Penelope cut in, newly annoyed, “You mean the one you LEFT in my cave yesterday?! Here.” She gave him a pointed look and slammed the report to his chest, walking briskly past the two men into the kitchenette.

They both watched her go, Luke wondering what he’d done to make her so mad all of a sudden, then faced one another again. Luke’s unoccupied hand came out in apology, “Really, Lynch, it was an accident”, a peace-offering shake extended between them. Kevin's jaw flexed looking Luke up and down. “Don’t worry about it.” he grumbled, and walked off.

Penelope’s office. That’s right. He was holding it when he came to say good night.

FOUR

He wasn’t jealous. Really. There was no reason to be jealous. If anything, Kevin should be jealous. After all, he got to work with her every day, have her talk to him, on the rare occasion when she slipped up, flirt with him. He got to hug her, and touch her, and hear her laughter, hangout with her and see her at parties, cook dinner at Rossi's. Kevin would never have that again, had he ever. No, he wasn’t jealous Kevin Lynch, that awful no-bounderies slimy tech analyst he had history with had been with Penelope. Their Penelope. They were accidents…mostly. Really.

It had been a long, bad case. They all needed to decompress before heading to their homes, to their families, to the people around them who simply would never understand. They would not wish for them to understand. Even Matt, who found the greatest comfort in being with his kids and Kristy, couldn’t muster the courage to face them just yet. And Penelope needed her people. Needed to be around them, hear them, see them, feel them, know they were real and ok and uninjured. That they were all safe and home. And so tonight, though they were all exhausted, they were going out after work, going to the bar, going to drink shitty well drinks (not Tara or Rossi) and listen to music on a buzzing sound system. Play pool, play darts, inhale the stale smoke that permeated the plaster walls and booth leather decades ago, and know they had all survived and would continue to.

After a few drinks everyone split off into little groups around the space. Spencer was talking with Emily at the table, JJ and Matt were playing pool, Tara inserted herself into a conversation about the legitimacy of Shelby mod kits (not legitimate, obviously), and Rossi was at the bar keeping tabs on everyone around him.

“You wanna play?” Luke nodded to the vacant dartboard.

“Oh, no, i’m terrible.” Penelope laughed, “JJ, though she’s great, used to hustle guys out of money all the time.”

“JJ’s busy at the pool table. I thought those fingers were magic. Come on Garcia, show me what ya got. Maybe I can give you some pointers…” he grinned.

Luke stood up, leading a smiling, protesting Penelope by the hands to the game space. They were laughing and joking, Penelope fully enjoying herself. Luke showed her where to stand, and stood behind her, hand on hand guiding her movements but quickly found she must have been snowing him. Penelope Garcia was a ringer at darts. She shrugged all coy, “Maybe JJ rubbed off on me…”

Something about tonight, right now, felt different between them. She was opening up, being silly and playful, just the two of them. Maybe it was how awful this case had been that had pushed her towards him, maybe she was just finally accepting him. It was Luke’s turn and Penelope's arm slid around his back trying to tickle him, fingers coming to ribs as he raised his hand to throw.

“Penelope, STOP, you're cheating!” He laughed, resisting the convulsions his body wanted to make at her touch. Her face was pure joy watching his until she glanced past him, stilling.

“-Kevin” It was breathless, and quiet and filled with frustration and if she hadn’t been right next to him he was sure he wouldn't have heard it. But he did…just as his fingers let go and his arm had flown, his body jerked away from her instinctively because of the tickling, and well…

"AHHH!” Kevin Lynch was standing off to the side, dart plunged neatly into the soft, front round of his shoulder joint, staring in disbelief clutching at the top of his chest.

“Luke!” Penelope immediately reprimanded brows knit and mouth dropped open in a wide “O” She let go of his flannel, hands flying to her mouth.

“I didn’t- It was an accident!” He wasn’t really concerned with Kevin, it was superficial, he’d live. Dart tips were like, what? An inch? He was, however, concerned Penelope might start thinking this was intentional…

Penelope found her legs, scurrying over. “Kevin, what are you doing here?!” Her hand hovered back and forth over the injury, unsure of touching it. Tara grabbed a couple of napkins from a table near by and passed them off. Penelope plucked the dart out and replaced it with the napkins “Here, hold it, apply pressure. Hold it!” She shrilly commanded, letting go and stepping back. Her body language said everything, arms folded, high shoulders, hunching forward, foot turned out, and she was tapping. Luke looked to Rossi across the room, to JJ near by, and Emily talking with Spenser who gave a slight shake of her head “no”. Luke stepped back to JJ and Matt at the pool table.

“So what is this, he stalking her now?” he whispered.

“He couldn’t be so stupid. He has to know we’re here…” JJ answered back.

It was at that point Kevin’s pain turned to rage, “I’m gonna fucking kill him!” he lunged forward, snarling face pointed towards where Luke, JJ, and Matt stood, but he found he wasn’t moving. “AHHHH! he yelled again in pain, noticing the finely manicured hands of Tara and Rossi holding him back, Tara’s placed just so, directly over the wound digging in as he pushed away from them.

Penelope didn’t move, didn’t flinch, “Why are you here, Kevin?” she demanded again.

He glanced from her friends back to her, glaring at Luke “… I heard it was a bad case… I tried to catch you at work,” he looked down hissing in pain and jerked, shaking off the hands restraining him. “I wanted to check on you, to see if you…wanted some company. But they said you’d gone, so I don’t know. It was stupid, I just wanted to come see you, that’s all.” he finished, looking back up softly at Penelope, then coldly at Luke, “I know how these things affect you.”

“That’s nice, but you can see i’m with the team, i’m in good hands, and we’re all fine. You’re free to go, have a good night.” She turned away heading to JJ and Matt.

“Penelope, wait.” And there he was again not willing to listen, serving his own needs. She didn’t even bother to face him.

“Kevin, please leave. I want to be with my team tonight.” JJ and Matt wrapped her in a hug. Everyone else stood watching him, daring him to make a move beyond what she’d just requested. He didn’t and walked back out.

Leave it to Kevin Lynch to ruin the night.

FIVE

Luke remembered hearing Kevin whine to various co-workers about his girlfriend turning down his proposal before. He’d say her job was too stressful and he told her she should just quit and move out to the country, relax. Luke didn’t feel especially bad for the guy, something about Kevin always rubbed him the wrong way. Why would you be spreading gossip about your own girlfriend all over the building you both worked in if you supposedly loved her? The big thing Luke remembered though, why he really didn’t like Kevin, was Lynch puffed up around the office one day going on about how his girlfriend asked him not to talk to her boss about them, but he was "gonna show her how much of a man he was, he wasn’t scared of David Rossi” whoever that was...Why would you go against the explicit wishes of your girlfriend and jeopardize her position? Kevin was a dick. You don’t respect someone’s wishes, you don’t respect them. And now knowing Penelope was that girlfriend, he hated him. Knowing that he hurt Penelope, intentionally brought another woman to JJ’s wedding, knowing that he manipulated her and complained about her all over the office, how on and off they were, he wanted to wipe the floor with Kevin Lynch.

Since that night out, she really had been nicer, friendlier towards him. He would bring her coffee from Lunacorn most mornings, and she’d pretend to be surprised, small hand coming up to push at his chest, “For moi?”, or “Luke Alvez, stop making me like you!” grinning and walking away. He wanted to chase after her in those moments. They had turned a corner, and he loved every minute of it, he couldn’t get enough of her. Dancing with her at parties, standing next to her at Rossi’s cooking nights, hip bumping into his, her greetings becoming more flirtatious over the phone, but still just a little bit mean, a tart sweetness. She would never be completely nice to him and truthfully he liked it that way. He didn’t need someone to stroke his ego, he needed someone to keep him on his toes. He needed Penelope Garcia.

And so it was her he was thinking about on this very slow work day. Thankful for the chance to finally finish filling out his reports and get them turned in, but wishing for a technicolor-tech distraction. Prentiss had been very understanding about the paperwork, but the bureau was less so. They were breathing down her neck, so she had passed along the note. The paperwork was always the hardest part for him, recounting events, writing it all down, making sure nothing got left out, that everything was objective and nothing was bias, just the facts and their profile. It was very analytical, monotonous, and tedious work. And under the fluorescent lights it was awful. He sat up stretching, taking in the pile of to-do he’d gotten through and felt he earned himself a coffee break. Plus a walk around the office was good for you, kept your joints lubricated, blood flowing, your mind sharp, and it stopped his ass from going numb. And maybe, if he was lucky, he’d bump into his favorite display of hue. He knew where to find her, but he didn’t want to bother her if she was working on something. He made a lap around the bullpen, and then a lap around the catwalk, crossing near her office, door closed. His smile faltering the slightest bit. Emily’s head popped out of her office.

“Alvez, you need something?”

“Huh, uh, no. Just stretch break.” he pointed to the stack of files his desk, “Almost done. I’ll have um all for you by tonight.”

She gave a tight smile, “Ok” and disappeared again.

Deciding to get back on it, he walked to the break room to make a quick cup of coffee before diving back in. No Penelope distraction, it would seem. He was head deep in the cupboard looking for a clean mug when he felt a familiar soft hip check his.

“Tea, for me Newbie? You shouldn’t have...” she purred.

He closed the door, pulling out the last remaining clean mug and smiled wide, “In your dreams, Chica, there’s only one cup left.”

Penelope pouted, invading his personal space, “I thought you worshiped me”, her fingers closing around the cup.

His cheeks flushed, she was so close, so very close. “Even dutiful servants need their energy. Go get me one of the five I know are in that cave of wonders, and I’ll show you how devoted I am.”

She smirked, turning around, orange and vanilla smacking him in the face, “Come get it yourself.” and left him standing there. He looked from Penelope to his desk, he really did need to finish that stack of work before the day ended, couldn’t let feelings get in the way of work. He finished making the coffee and headed back to his desk, the light blue mug of daisy-cats mocking him and urging him to work faster from where it sat safely on the back of his desk.

He had two more reports left to do, small victories. Coffee drained from the cup, and unable to get her out of his mind, he got up, washed the mug, and brewed her favorite tea stashed in the back of the far drawer. It was only fair, she did a lot, she needed the boost too. Luke walked from the kitchenette, up the stairs across the cat walk and around the corner, head down ignoring the very pointed looks he could feel JJ, Matt, and Tara trading. He could do nice things for people. It didn’t mean anything.

"Kevin you can’t file a complaint. I won’t let you."

"He’s doing it on purpose!"

"No he isn't! What reason would he have? Luke is one of the sweetest people! He’s not some school yard bully!”

Luke stopped short, they were fighting. About him. Kevin wanted to file a complaint? Nice. So much for interoffice relations. Baby.

“Penelope, it’s not up to you, I came here out of courtesy, nothing more.”

“AND I TOLD YOU I won’t let you. I will delete it Kevin. Like it never even existed. I’ll write code that deletes it every time you file just to save me time if i have to. I don’t care.”

"Ooooh! Oh, I see.”

"What does that mean? What do you “see” ?!”

"That face. It was the same with Morgan! Some big, strong, handsome, fatheaded asshole walks in the door and you can’t help but fall all over yourself for them. He’s playing you! He’s using you.”

She was quite. He knew what that meant, there was either a furious Penelope on the other side or a broken one. He worried his lip, unsure what to do. How could he convince her it wasn’t true?

When she spoke again her voice was like steel. “You don’t talk about Derek. You are the only person here who ever thought I was being used.” Furious. Good.

Just because he was awful, didn’t mean everyone else was too. He was sick of this, tired of this guy showing up, tired of hearing him tear her down, hearing about how he belittled her, and tried to make her be less than she was. She deserved so much, so so much. Right now all he had was tea, but he could try for more. Luke took a deep breath, and moved forward, he knocked briefly and opened the door, not waiting for a response. He put on his brightest smile, because truthfully, he couldn’t not when she looked at him, and stepped into the room cup extended.

“Oh, great it’s you.” Was the first sound he was met with,"Get out, Alvez. Or have you come to spill that boiling bog water on me?” Luke kept his eyes on Penelope, but his smile flickered at the thought.

No, Lynch, I have something better in mind.

Luke ignored the man, speaking to her, voice low and soft, filling the space as only he could. "Hey, Garcia. Penelope…. I brought you that tea, but…” He glanced to the deep brown liquid and back to the same brown in her eyes, his head falling to the side, "I’d like to take you out. Can I take you to dinner?”

He could hear Kevin sputter as he watched Penelope’s eyes light up, rapidly nodding her head.

Fuck Kevin lynch, he hoped that hurt.

#garvez #criminal minds #luke alvez #penelope garcia #derek morgan #emily prentiss #jj #spencer reid #matt simmons #tara lewis #david rossi #kevin lynch #4+1 fic #wump fic?#accidents happen #snails tales #ao3 #fan fiction #kevin lynch is repeatedly injured by luke alvez

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galadrail · 10 months

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Drawings for lovers

Hey! I've posted the last chapter of my 4+1 punkchaighostflower fic! So I'm posting the link to my now-complete fic I hope you enjoy!

#spiderman fic #atsv #across the spiderverse #spiderman atsv #gwen stacy #mile morales #miles morales #spiderman miles morales #miles x gwen #punkflower #chaiflower #punkchai #ghostflower #ghostpunk #4+1 fic #Miles is autistic because I am so I hope you like it #Ok idk I'm to much tired #It's just 3am where I live

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quietlyimplode · 2 years

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Things you taught me when I was young

4 times Melina’s life intersects with Natasha’s; and the one time it doesn’t.

AN: warnings for child abuse, death, relinquishment of a child. I’m not really happy with this one, but has been clarifying in setting straight some of my thoughts about Melina. (bwf2022 (day 4), 3.2k, gif not mine.)

Promises. Promises.

Melina stands in front of Dreykov, the urge to roll her eyes terminal as she curls her fists instead.

The genetic testing of the first line of Widows had proved that whatever they had been injected with had made them sterile.

Followed by the complete hysterectomy, the Red Room had shot themselves in the foot.

Women, were child bearers, they didn’t need to steal children, buy them, traffic them, when they could birth them onsite.

But, the men running the program decided that they wanted the enhancements more than they wanted to fund child bearing women, so, the mission was finding those that would inevitably be worthy.

Dreykov pats her face condescendingly.

“You’re supposed to be smart, this can be your special mission. Pick two others. Find six children with potential. If they succeed, you live. If they don’t, I suppose back to basics for you.”

She knows he means reconditioning.

Reprogramming.

Mind wipe.

She sighs inaudibly.

“Yes sir.”

Melina has a good place to start. What men don’t know is that women will always be ten times more cunning and street smart than their oppressors; survival always breeds it’s own type of street smarts.

Homeless shelters.

Since the end of the Cold War (if it had indeed ended) meant the displacement of thousands, the divide between those that were aligned with the bureaucracy and those that didn’t.

She knows it’s self serving, that it’s wrong, but if she’s honest with herself, she doesn’t care.

There’s a holy man she ignores as she walks through the door.

“Can I help you?” he asks, gently.

“I’m here for my sister,” she tells him, looking around for where the women’s quarters are.

“Where are the women held?”

She pushes past him, seeing a small child peeking from around the door.

Jackpot, she thinks. Where there are children there are women. The man doesn’t stop her as she enters and looks around. There’s two woman sitting on beds, both holding small infants.

Melina stands tall, changing her approach, her demeanor and rearranging her face to one of kindness, just like the instructors taught her.

“Hello,” she opens.

The women look to her and almost shrink. They’re unkempt, skinny, and wary.

She explains to them who she is, that the Red Room is an orphanage for girls, that they are fed; educated and supported.

It’s a safe life. A good life.

She tells them they can come back for their children when they want, and they can take them back.

It’s a lie, but they look to her with hope.

Melina knows it’s a long term play. But it’s a good one. If it works, it means a stream of girls.

The women hug their children tighter as she talks. She assures them, food, education, safety, and leaves them with a card with an address.

She visits two more and gets another idea.

There are orphanages.

Abandoned children, traumatised lives. It reeks of poverty and pain.

She tells the director she wants the youngest of girls. There’s no shortage.

They agree to two a year, with proper payment of course. He grabs her arm, and tells her he’s only doing this so he can feed the rest of the children.

She shrugs. She doesn’t care for his guilt.

Tells him she’ll return in three days for the two girls agreed upon.

Dreykov will be pleased.

She sees two more orphanages before lunch, and realises that by the end of the week, she got the six girls that he asked for.

The woman meets her at the gate as she walks to it. The day has been long but still she recognises her from the first orphanage.

She knows her because her infant has a wisp of red hair and her eidetic memory recalls the way the infant had watched her with intelligent eyes.

The infant is scrawling now, as the woman shushes her and calms the child with just words. She looks distraught as Melina meets her.

The woman is skinny, and Melina thinks she must have missed the cut off for the shelter.

Wind bites at her face and Melina shivers deeply and looks expectantly at her. The compound looms over them as they stand opposite each other.

“She will be safe?” The woman asks, desperate, angry at her choices in life.

Melina nods. Lies.

“The red room will be her home,” she tells her.

There’s a beat as she seems to battle inwards.

“I’ll come for you,” she promises, kissing her baby’s nose, her face, nuzzling in, appearing to memorise every inch.

“Stay alive,” Melina hears the woman say, “and I will too.”

She hugs the child tightly.

“I’ll come for you,” she promises.

“This is not forever.”

But Melina knows it is. Once the child is in her hands, she is the property of the Red Room.

The woman turns her back, hunching over her little girl, almost keening in grief.

“I’m so sorry,” she sobs, tears coming fast, “this is not the end, I’ll come for you. Just stay alive; ok my Natalia? I’ll find you, I’ll always find you.”

Melina moves to touch her shoulder.

“Give her to me,” she says gently.

And the woman does.

She lifts the baby away, the blanket going with her. The bereaved stares as her red headed child, starts to cry, pathetically.

“You can go now,” Melina tells her.

But she seems to be rooted to the spot.

She wants her baby back.

“I’m sorry,” the woman sobs, falling to her knees as Melina walks off, indifferent, ignoring the pull in her heart, unsure what it means.

Melina throws the knife at the target, hitting just above the girls head. The girl has a far away off look, that Melina knows, if she’s caught distancing herself from the activity she’ll be punished.

She knows she was.

Two more throws land next to either of her ears, seemingly waking her up and bringing her back to the present.

The training is interrupted as Dreykov enters the hall, flanked by two men in suits.

“Come here,” he orders.

She sighs inwardly and follows her feet to stand in front of him, eyes down.

He hands her a dossier and tells her she has a mission.

Hope springs in her gut at being able to leave the darkness of these four walls.

She nods at his orders and he dismisses her, telling her she has twenty minutes to meet her handlers at the front gate.

Wandering back to her room, she tosses the dossier on the military made bed, and changes into tactical gear.

She pushes down the anger and disgust at herself making sure the mirror is covered still.

She gathers herself.

A simple mission. A simple assassination.

The Red Room is the most depressing place, and when she leaves it’s like she remembers colours, smells and sounds. Even if those colours are still red, the metallic smell of blood and the sound of a gun shot.

She grasps for the dossier and looks over it, stopping short at the picture and name.

The woman.

The first one that gave her child to Melina.

She looks older now; it makes sense, four years have passed. The child is now close to six, she’s completed the first round of Black Widow training.

Not that Melina has been keeping tabs on her.

She hasn’t. She doesn’t care for anyone.

But she never forgets a face.

Scanning down, she wonders what the woman has done to deserve the wrath of the Dreykov.

Oh.

Melina thinks.

She wants her child back.

A laugh breaks free of her lips as she reads some of the things the woman has attempted in efforts to rescue and get back her child.

Breaking into the red room? She’s lucky she wasn’t shot on the spot.

This must be one special child.

Melina moves through the hallway, stopping where the class of six year olds have headphones on their heads learning the intricacies of English. She spots red hair straight away and stares.

What about this child is so special that the woman would risk her own life for her? She moves on, the paper heavy in her hand.

She doesn’t understand.

But she does understand orders.

The two large men flank her as she leaves in a black car and contemplative thoughts.

She watches her for a day.

The woman seems insignificant. No power. No pull on state of the world.

Irrelevant.

The sniper rifle is heavy on her shoulder as she watches from the rooftop. She plans to kill her in her sleep, then set her house on fire. No one looks for a bullet in a fire, no one should think twice anyway.

But she’s not one for making mistakes.

The night grows around her, the woman setting a fire, sitting on the rocking chair as she nurses a drink, looking at a worn photo that Melina zooms in at.

Natalia, the woman had called her. They’d kept the name for within the Red Room, she’d noticed the change to Natasha, the American diminutive, for obvious reasons.

It takes her ages to settle, to do something other than drink and stare.

Finally, she heads to bed, and Melina watches through the scope. Watches as she completes her mundane routines, eating, bathing, placing the photograph carefully on her night stand.

She lines up the shot, takes a deep breath and slows her heart rate down.

3. 2. 1.

The shot is clean and the woman is dead.

Melina feels strange.

It’s not a sadness, she knows that, maybe it’s a pity. The woman was killed because of her love for her daughter.

Moving carefully, she drops down to the pavement, entering the house.

The kills is confirmed as she sees blood and the body.

Pouring the gasoline, first on the body then she moves from room to room, dousing everything as she goes.

Lastly, the room that could be a child’s bedroom she finds a shrine built, to honor the living. A teddy bear, a small pink infants dress, a candle and a small poem sit on a table.

Melina licks her lips, the smell of gasoline becoming strong.

It’s not sadness she’s feeling, because she doesn’t feel that. The tears that threaten are because of the smell. The guilt that hangs low in her gut is nothing, she just needs to leave.

Exiting through the back, she takes a match and sets it to the fumes.

She stays to honor the dead, the poem in hand, wondering what it might be like to love that fiercely.

Melina feels sweat dripping off her body.

The training regime she’s set for Natasha is child’s play.

“Almost there,” she tells the wiry girl.

Natasha runs, her small legs beating fast on the pavement, they reach the house and slow down to a stop.

“Was it faster?” Natasha asks, a small amount of hope in her voice.

Melina looks; it is faster but she doesn’t want the girls hope.

“No,” she lies.

“Again.”

“Oh,” there’s so much disappointment in her voice that Melina almost feels bad.

They set off in a steady pace, and Melina feels her mind go blank as all she concentrates on is the way her muscles are propelling her forward.

“Start,” she commands.

Natasha’s breath is audible as she starts talking in German, recounting the story of Sleeping Beauty.

She gets half way and stops, heaving for breaths.

“Come on Natasha, pain only makes you stronger,” she encourages.

It’s enough to scare the child into moving.

She gives her reprieve and then nods.

“Start.”

Natasha starts again.

The food is in a locked box.

Yelena thinks it’s hilarious, but Natasha knows better. She hasn’t eaten in a day and a half.

Melina had hidden the key in front of her in the morning. She should have been paying attention to everything.

“Think Natasha,” she says in Mandarin.

“You saw me put it away this morning.”

Melinda knows how it feels when you’re hungry, that the only thing you want is food, you can’t think of anything else. It’s why this is so important.

When they leave here, Natasha enters the next stage of training. It’s brutal.

Melina would know.

She needs to be prepared.

Natasha climbs on bench, opens the cupboard and looks in the sugar bowl.

She’s right of course, looking up in triumph.

“Good, child,” she praises, unlocking the box and handing over the muffin that lived inside.

Natasha takes it, and without thinking hands half over to Yelena.

It makes Melina’s heart pull.

The return to the Red Room is going to break her and take her heart.

Natasha and Alexei are sparring. He’s not holding back and she worries that he’s going to break her tiny bones.

She tests Yelena on her Arabic, focusing on verbal instructions, when she hears the distinctive sound of a backhand hitting skin.

“Get up,” Alexei growls.

She wants to intervene, spare Natasha some pain, but that’s not who she is.

Melinda knows this is nothing compared to what’s coming.

She turns her back and guides Yelena out.

“Don’t worry,” she’s assured the blonde girl, “Daddy will make sure she is okay.”

Later; she finds Natasha crying in the bathroom, holding ice to her bruised cheek, gently touching her broken nose. She enters, and shows her how to reset it.

“Pain only makes your stronger,” she whispers to her, like it’s a long held secret, as tears leak out of Natasha’s eyes.

Blood is wiped away, and Natasha looks to her, with sadness.

Melina flashes to the picture of her mother, their eyes the same as she places a hand on her shoulder.

“Hide and seek,” she says to Yelena and Natasha, grinning.

Yelena cheers and Natasha gives a rare smile.

“Don’t fall for the traps,” she hints.

First, she handcuffs them both, then she ties them to a chair.

“You have twenty minutes to ring the bell,” she stipulates.

“First one to ring it, chooses dinner.”

It’s a meager prize but seems motivating enough.

“Go.”

Natasha is first out of the cuffs, Yelena close behind as she frowns and stops at the door. Yelena doesn’t stop and runs straight into the tripwire, setting off the smoke grenade.

Immediately, Natasha covers her face and encourages Yelena to do so, she moves into the next room and finds the doors locked.

Vision obscured, Melina watches as Natasha picks the lock, coughing harshly as smoke permeates the air.

Yelena attempts the other door, but Natasha is first.

There’s two more traps, and Melina watches with interest as Natasha stops and thinks, even though the air is thick.

Yelena sets off the alarm and Natasha grins knowingly. She opens the next door slowly, running her finger along the side finding the string attached to the handle. She produces a knife cutting it then opening the door, finding the bell inside.

She rings it and smiles.

“Mac and Cheese,” she announces, much to Yelena’s delight.

And Melina’s heart sinks.

They’re going to kill you, child; she thinks.

Melina wakes up, pain radiating throughout her body.

There’s doctors around her as she drifts in and out of consciousness. She’s handcuffed to the hospital cot and she sighs.

The plane, the girls, the escape, all come back to her.

She’s lost them.

She’d said to Natasha she was sorry, and it was the first time she’d ever said those words.

But they were truthful.

She is sorry.

The Red Room is her home; it should not have been Natasha’s.

If she’d turned her mother away…

If she’d chosen another homeless shelter…

If she’d helped her mother instead of killing her…

Guilt makes bile rise in her throat, but she pushes it down.

Melina understands why no one came for her when she was young, she was rotten, even then; abandoned, unwanted; but that’s not the case for Natasha.

She wonders if she will ever see her again.

She doubts Dreykov will ever let that happen.

Pain only makes you stronger, she says to herself, believing it with every essence of her being.

This experience may just make her invincible.

She misses them.

Natasha’s stoic face and the rare smile.

Yelena’s easy laugh and simple understanding of life.

She pulls against the handcuffs, preferring the pain on her wrists than the one in her heart.

She’s sent back. She’s always sent back.

Reprogramming, Dreykov tells her, and then she’ll be sent away.

“We have a new program for you to work on,” he smiles.

She will never admit that the thought fills her with dread, even if her life is not her own.

Melina wants to know, what’s happened to the two girls.

She sees Natasha first, her hair now red, face now more serious as she fights ruthlessly against another girl twice her size.

“You taught them well,” a voice in her ear says.

She can’t repress the shudder.

“The younger one is a spitfire,” he laughs.

“We’ve sent her to Dikson.”

Melina’s heart sinks.

Everyone knows what happens in the small coastal town.

If she believed in God, she’d pray.

Instead, she turns to him and smiles at his mirth.

“I’m ready,” she tells him.

And she is, ready to die again and come back as someone new, without all this guilt and pain.

The Avengers.

Her Natasha is an avenger.

She has the power of a god, a scientist, a science experiment and a man of iron at her side.

The worlds greatest spy.

She doesn’t care about the happenings in New York, although the appearance of aliens was a surprise, it doesn’t concern her.

Melina watches Natasha with interest on the news, her near perfect American accent, as she stands next to Iron Man asking for privacy at this time.

She sets up her scanner to always alert her to Natasha, whether she is on the news, radio, or being hunted by police.

Maybe.

Just maybe, the choices in her life have not lead to destruction and ruin.

The break of the day brings with it the birth of piglets and feeling of renewal.

#bwf2022 #natasha romanoff #melina vostokoff #melina #black widow #bwfilm #Melina vostokov fic #natasha romanoff fic #black widow fic #my fic #implied child abuse #4+1 fic #death tw

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angela-feelstoomuch · 9 months

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New 911 fic alert!

Rating: G

Pairing: buddie

Summary:

4 times they held hands without romantic interest (debatable) and 1 time they did it on purpose. Keep reading on Ao3

#911 fic #my fic #buddie fic #buddie #9-1-1 #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #4+1 fic #hand holding #idiots in love #evan buck buckely #eddie diaz

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s-c-g-s-c-g · 6 months

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Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta, Ashido Mina & Bakugou Katsuki & Kaminari Denki & Kirishima Eijirou & Sero Hanta & Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Class 1-A, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead & Shinsou Hitoshi, Eri & Shinsou Hitoshi Characters: Shinsou Hitoshi, Bakugou Katsuki, Ashido Mina, Kaminari Denki, Kirishima Eijirou, Sero Hanta, Eri (My Hero Academia), Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Class 1-A (My Hero Academia), Uraraka Ochako, Midoriya Izuku, Tokoyami Fumikage, Todoroki Shouto, Shiozaki Ibara Additional Tags: Bakusquad (My Hero Academia), Bakusquad Shenanigans (My Hero Academia), Bakusquad Being Idiots (My Hero Academia), Shinsou Hitoshi is in Class 1-A, Shinsou Hitoshi is in the Bakusquad, Shinsou Hitoshi is a Little Shit, Shinsou Hitoshi is a Good Friend, Bakugou Katsuki Swears A Lot, Protective Bakugou Katsuki, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Friend, He's also the only one with any common sense here, Kaminari Denki is a Good Friend, Kaminari Denki is a Dork, Kaminari Denki Being An Idiot, the smartest idiot here but still, Ashido Mina is a Good Friend, Ashido Mina is a Little Shit, Sero Hanta is a Good Friend, Sero Hanta is a Little Shit, He's also an enabler, Kirishima Eijirou is a Ray of Sunshine, Kirishima Eijirou is a Good Friend, Bakugou Katsuki is a Good Cook, Conspiracy Theorist Todoroki Shouto, Parental Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is So Done, Tired Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Shinsou Hitoshi, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead Adopts Eri, Eri and Shinsou Hitoshi are Siblings, Crimes Against Food, Vampires, Humor, slight crack, Cute Eri (My Hero Academia), Eri is a Ray of Sunshine (My Hero Academia), Mentioned Asui Tsuyu, Mentioned Yaoyorozu Momo, Aizawa Shouta | Eraserhead is a Good Teacher Series: Part 6 of Is Anyone Going to Parent This Child? No? Fine. Summary:

Some members of the bakusquad are convinced that Aizawa-sensei is hiding a secret. What kind of secret? why he's a vampire of course! It makes so much sense! All they need to do is find the evidence to prove it.

Or, 4 times the Bakusquad tries to prove Aizawa is a vampire and the 1 time they almost figure out the truth.

#4+1 fic #bakusquad #bakugou katsuki #shinsou hitoshi #mina ashido #kirishima eijirou #sero hanta #aizawa shouta #my writing #one shot

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staringamassivemistakeintheface · 8 months

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Today’s entry, once again, has some writing! I make no guarantees about quality!

Day 4: warmth/breeze

The wind in Dogwarts was sharp, perpetually promising frost and winter. It bit through Martyn’s hoodie, threatened to kill their crops, froze the blood on Black Heart Altar. But despite Ren’s mission to bring Red Winter to the server, the man was a furnace. He'd silently wrap his arms around Martyn after a battle, disregarding the blood on both their hands, and ensconce him in warmth and unspoken love.

The wind in the Southlands was a timid thing, stifled by the forest and their walls. Martyn never paid it any attention, focused on survival and boogeys and the threats at the door. But he noticed the wind when it threatened to spread the fire from Ren’s tower as the two of them rushed to put it out. He noticed the moisture-laden air as they looked over the Shadow Lands, promising a storm (or spring) that never came.

The wind in the Bastion was strong, whistling through the ravine almost constantly. It made talking to Cleo difficult at best, and he almost lost his headband on three separate occasions. Whenever he went up by the Box, the light summer breeze was a welcome change. He and Ren stood on the monstrosity's roof, commiserating about absent soulmates and silently sharing regrets. It was too nice a night to need any body warmth, and Martyn felt the empty air beside him acutely.

The wind on the Coral Isles was a warm sea breeze, carrying the sound of the waves and the almost-imperceptible hum of the world border. Martyn’s hair and clothes were stiff with salt, and the taste in his mouth was identical to tears. He and Scott got along well enough, silently living with the other's ghosts (he ignored how cold the siren's hands were). He threw himself into the madness of the game, taunting and promising and lying and surviving, staying too busy to notice a breeze. But on those insomniac nights where the past refused to be quieted, Martyn stood on the shore and felt the rush of sea air like a caress. It was far too warm for the instinctive shiver that raced down his back. The wind was supposed to bite, settle in his bones, be warded off, not embrace him like a lover.

There was no wind in the void. Martyn didn't know if he was falling through the emptiness around him or simply floating, suspended like a broken puppet. The pit in his stomach may have been gravity, or the dread and fear and exhaustion They clawed into like starving dogs with a bone. He was desperate for any sensation to ground him, longing for warm arms to shelter him from the cold nothingness of the void.

#can you tell I’ve barely watched any of Martyn’s POV?#treebarkweek2023 #treebark #martyn inthelittlewood #inthelittlewood fanart #4+1 fic #I tried #traffic life series

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aurore-dupin · 9 months

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If I Didn’t Tell Her, I Could Leave Today

Four times Lana Skye and Miles Edgeworth got in a disagreement. And one time they agreed.

This is my new baby and I will periodically reblog this post when I update it!

#Edgeworth Typical Misogyny #ace attorney #lana skye #miles edgeworth #Ace Attoney fanfic #4+1 fic #lanamia

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ahiru-k · 2 years

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Haruruma Week (Day 2) - Competition

Summary: Miu tries and fails, 5 times to beat Maki at a competition, only to resort to drastic measures for a win.

Notes: What in the fuck was I thinking 💀💀

“Hey, murder tits! Slow the fuck down!!” Miu wheezed, trying to catch up with Maki who was leaving her in the dust.

It had been like this all day, since this mornings breakfast, Miu made the horrible mistake of challenging Maki to a race in hopes that she would get to see her panties as she ran by. (which in hindsight made absolutely no sense.)

Maki gave Miu absolutely no response, refusing to even glance her way until she made it passed the finish line…which was Korekiyo.

“Now..” Korekiyo whimpered from under his mask as Maki flew by him like a bullet. “If that is all you need from me, I shall be going…” he stated weakly.

Maki nodded in return, “Thanks for the help..” before the blown out man shakily made his way back inside the campus.

Right behind her, Maki heard the familiar, heavy footsteps of Miu, and then a sharp slap on her back that made Maki jolt.

“You…you fuckin’ asshole..” Miu panted, “You left me in the godamned dust!” She huffed, regaining her composure, despite slightly sweating her mascara off, was a quarter mile run that hard?

“I’m sorry you’re too slow.” Maki spoke in a sly tone, giving Miu a slight smirk that sent shivers up Miu’s spine, in a good way, of course.

Instead of giving up like she should have, Miu decided to dig herself into the Mariana Trench.

“Well..” Miu started, straightening up her posture, “I bet you can’t beat me at a pocky game!” She stated proudly.

Maki tilted her head, confused, as if to say “What the hell is that?”

Oh, Miu was going to have fun with this…

Never mind, she takes it all back.

She thought she was gonna one-up the murder happy goddess with a steamy game of pocky with some one the most mouth-watering candy ever.

But no, instead, at least five games have passed, and in each and everyone, Maki has surprised her in such an absurd way that Miu couldn’t take the pressure and dipped.

The last one, as good as Miu can remember, is when Maki decided that since going in for a kiss on her cheek, lips, or nose wasn’t an option, she just straight up yanked the rest of the pocky out of Miu’s mouth and slowly ate the rest.

“Where is Maki and what have you done with my wife.” Miu screamed in her head, pushing down her blush for the 4th time today and failing miserably.

“Give up?” Maki asked, looking a bit too fondly as Miu as she tried to compose herself, “I’m getting kind of sick of these myself, how many calories are in these?” She asked herself, reading the back of the box and going pale.

“Yeah, no.” Maki sighed, standing up and dusting off her skirt, as they had taken this whole competition to the library where no one would disturb them.

She bent back down and surprised Miu for the last time today by skipping the whole process of getting her off the ground by picking her up bridal style.

“Hey!!” Miu screamed, as she felt her world turning upside down and there was nothing she could do about it.

…Nothing but get comfortable as she started into Maki’s deep, red and hypnotizing eyes. It was clear Maki was in a similar trance, because she hadn’t registered Miu’s face closing in on hers, and—

“Ah!” Maki gasped as Miu suddenly licked her face, dropping Miu back on the floor in the process, causing her to burst into hysterics.

“Aha!” Miu snorted, “Gotcha, killer biatch! Hows it feel being on the short end of the stick, ahaha!” She cackled, ignoring the growing dull-pain on her back.

She didn’t notice, but Maki now had a light layer of blush dusted across her cheeks, even as she wiped off the spot Miu licked, and whispered to herself, “…Smartass.”

Miu gasped, “I heard that!”

“Fuck you.”

#harurumaweek2022 #haruruma #korekiyo shinguji #miu iruma #maki haruwaka #rarepair #4+1 fic

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dapper-lil-arts · 2 months

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Season 1 Rarijack is really funny

#Rarijack #twilight sparkle #pinkie pie #applejack #rarity #they're always seconds away from making out angrily #that season is hilarious #my little pony #mlp #mlp gen 4 #friendship is magic #pony posting #meme #this ship man. this ship #hydrogen bomb #im absolutely writing a fic thats rarijack but shrek 1

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wildlife4life · 4 months

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Fuck-It Friday

Tagged by the fantastic @wikiangela @jesuisici33 @exhuastedpigeon @spotsandsocks @rainbow-nerdss @devirnis @steadfastsaturnsrings @daffi-990 @jamespearce9-1-1 and @disasterbuckdiaz. Thank you! I can't wait for all your upcoming works!

Putting the fuck in fuck-it friday today. Here is a snippet from 4+1 Buck is too nice aka Cockblocked Eddie. (Previous snippets) Enjoy!

The burn of a second finger pushing next to the first, has Eddie moaning, "Yes that's it." No more Mr. Nice Buck. No more charming smiles and pleasant exchanges. This was a man at the end of his rope, tired of bending over backwards for everyone but himself. This Buck, was placing the last of his kindness only into insuring he didn't cause true harm to Eddie. As for what remained, well the harsh tug on Eddie's hair to be pulled into an equally harsh kiss has him vibrating in anticipation. Buck doesn't waste a second, knowing Eddie's body almost as well as his own, and presses those two long fingers directly on Eddie's prostate. Ripping away from the clash of teeth and tongue, Eddie loudly shouts, "Fuck!" The force is everything he's missing since Maddie called crying all those days ago. "My cock or my fingers baby?" Buck asks, forcing Eddie to meet his darkened facade with another tug of his hair. The bastard doesn't let up on Eddie's prostate, placing further pressure on the gland when he doesn't answer right away. Eddie whines, bucking his hip both away and towards the forced pleasure, like his body couldn't decide if it wants the stimulation it's been seeking for so long. The grip on Eddie's hair tightens and the sharp pain goes right to roar of heat in his groin, "My cock or my fingers?" Buck asks again, his voice deepening into a growl. Eddie cries out and his body finally decides to grind back on the fingers that give him no reprieve, "Cock! I want your cock please!" Buck practically purrs his delight for Eddie's answer. The pressure on Eddie's prostate disappears, making him whimper is mild disappointment, but it is quickly reprieved with the stretch of a third finger added along the previous two.

*BIG CHEESY SMILE* Hope you all enjoyed!

Tagging (no pressure!): @spaceprincessem @fortheloveofbuddie @lover-of-mine @athenagranted @eddiescowboy @evanbegins @elvensorceress @giddyupbuck @malewifediaz @hippolotamus @thewolvesof1998 @911onabc @911-on-abc @bekkachaos @loserdiaz @hoodie-buck @try-set-me-on-fire @theotherbuckley @ladydorian05 @bigfootsmom @watchyourbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @thekristen999 @shortsighted-owl @spagheddiediaz @monsterrae1 @rogerzsteven @eowon @princessfbi @honestlydarkprincess @vampbuckley @bitchfacediaz @buck-coded @housewifebuck @glorious-spoon @buddierights @prosperdemeter2 @gayedmundodiaz @lemonzestywrites

#fuck it friday #tag game #my wip #911 show #911 abc #911 on abc #911 fic #buddie #buddie fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #4+1 fic #smut #smutty smut #no longer cockblocked diaz #bye bye nice buck

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55szn · 22 days

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so american - ln4

lando norris x fem!sargeant!singer!reader smau

summary; yn sargeant releases her new song which has everyone (and her brother) wondering who is it about warnings; light cursing fc; olivia rodrigo notes; i just had to…

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liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri and 2.891.283 others ynsargeant surprise, “so american” is yours now! hope u like it ;)

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user EXCUSE ME?????

user damn what happened to hello?? how are you?? my name is???

logansargeant what

ynsargeant surprise ?

lilyzneimer sooo good yn! been on repeat all day🫶🏻🫶🏻

ynsargeant lilyyyyyy💘💘 user since when is she friends with lily what user well she’s good friends with oscar but they never interacted with each other before, maybe they’ve hanging out more lately??

user “he’s like a poem i wish i wrote” STFUUUU MY GIRL’S IN LOVE LOVE

user god bless america fr

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MESSAGES

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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!

[quick ootd check🤫] [always a pleasure to be here, see u tomorrow ny🍎🫶🏻]

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ynsargeant just uploaded to their story!

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ynsargeant

liked by landonorris, conangray and 3.568.126 others

ynsargeant life lately🧡🫂

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user there’s no way that isn’t lando

landonorris cute rings who got you those

ynsargeant some rando idk his name landonorris wow.

user that’s a hard launch if i’ve ever fucking seen one

user there she goes again with the orange hearts girl just post him you’re not mysterious 😭

user obsessed with lando flying to ny from monaco for one night just to see her in msg🥹

user ikr my girl’s finally getting the love she deserves

ynsargeant

liked by landonorris, logansargeant and 3.643.675 others

ynsargeant papayaaaaa

tagged landonorris

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user i can’t even pretend to be shocked😭

logansargeant wrong garage but ok😞

ynsargeant they don’t give me free coffee over there alex_albon yn we are broke user no way 😭

oscarpiastri wow we’ve been friends for years and i never got you to wear any of my team’s merch

logansargeant tell me abt it landonorris i have that effect🤷‍♀️ user damn lando norrizz has rizz

landonorris 🧡🧡🧡🧡

user this comment section isn’t real😭

landonorris

liked by carlossainz55, ynsargeant and 2.679.128 others

landonorris don’t tell her but i might just be in love as well

tagged ynsargeant

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user THE CAPTION

user he does not let go of that camera huh

logansargeant what’s with the hat ynsargeant that’s not very🦅💥💥🇺🇸 of you

ynsargeant i was promised that pic would not leave the camera roll. landonorris sorry baby u just looked so cute oscarpiastri get a room logansargeant don’t?

ynsargeant hahaha you in love🫵🤣

user girl you literally wrote a song about how down bad you are stfu

user mom wake up new parasocial relationship just dropped

user this post being y/n taken by lando and her post being lando taken by y/n🥹🥹🥹

user tooooootally normal abt this

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queenimmadolla · 3 months

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𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧 𝐈 𝐊𝐞𝐞𝐩 𝐨𝐧 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞

(dad!eddie x mom!reader)

Summary: Eddie has to shower before he can hold his impatient baby. She's having none of it.

a/n: i was attacked by yet ANOTHER cute baby tiktok so here we are with a little bit of grease monkey!eddie and another little drabble. set in the early days of the pennyverse. and yes, i've used this gif before but he's dead so i'm running out of them. mistakes might be fixed later, i dont know :)

“Are these your little fingers?” You asked your baby, tone saturated in honey and affection as you held the chunky palm in question, lips pressed to her pudgy fingertips.

Despite your aversion to it prior to your pregnancy, you’d inevitably developed a baby voice when Penny had come into the world and you couldn’t be blamed. Not when she was all squish, delicate cheeks holding so much chub they bulged, and rolls decorated her little limbs. She was a glutton, always demanding your milk and you couldn’t deny her; those big, gorgeous eyes she’d inherited from her father made it nearly impossible to, even when the wetness welling up in them were completely alligator tears. And those curls.

Regardless of taming them with some water, a brush and maybe some vaseline, they ended up wild, flying about or mussed and matted to her head with sweat because your baby was a little heater when she slept and napped. Just like her daddy.

Your smile widened in size when you heard the sound of keys slotting into place at the front door, the lock mechanism giving away. It tripled when you realized your baby also recognized the sound, head turning to stare at the door as she bobbed in place, thick legs squatting and then popping back up as you held her by her waist with your other hand, assisting her with standing.

The moment Eddie opened the door and came into view she began cooing and squealing in excitement, mouth parting in a wide smile as drool raced down from the corner of her mouth.

You laughed, and so did Eddie as he heard his baby welcoming him home.

“You excited to see me, sweet pea?” He cooed right back, walking over to squat in front of the two of you, eyes raking over you momentarily in appreciation before focusing on the little one in your arms.

She let out another long coo that ended on an airy sigh, pulling her hand from your grasp to reach both of her pudgy ones out to him, practically begging him to hold her as she began wiggling in your arms.

Eddie’s head tilted, lips curling into the most tender smile as he stared down at her with nothing but love swimming in those eyes he’d shared with her.

“Daddy missed you and mommy so much.” He whispered, a hand reaching out, almost close enough to caress her soft cheek but it hesitated before he could touch her. His rough, grease covered finger was a stark contrast to her clean, smooth skin. Clearly, you’d given her a bath before he got home because her mouth and cheeks were usually covered in the food you were starting to offer her (sometimes baby food, but mostly bits of your food because she wouldn’t accept any offerings of mushed up veggies and fruits if there was something else on your plate, hence why your diet had been pretty bland and not at all a result of the tight budget your maternity leave left you on).

The rest of his hands were no better, palms stained, streaks all over his arms as a result of shucking the top half of the monkey suit and rolling up his sleeves at the garage.

There were even a few streaks of grease and maybe oil on his face and neck. Your husband smelled more so of tires than he had the spicy cologne that surrounded you when he’d kissed you goodbye in bed this morning.

And he knew it.

Penny didn’t let that stop her, still eagerly reaching out for him as she grunted to try and provoke him in swooping her up into his embrace.

“As soon as daddy’s clean, okay? I’ll pick you up and my sweet girl can give me all the cuddles she wants.” He promised, hands on his knees before he stood back up, leaning over her to give you a sweaty, greasy oh so sweet and firm press of the lips kiss before he swiveled around and disappeared into the small bathroom as quickly as he could to be out of hearing range when Penny began whimpering at his absence.

You heard the shower start running at the exact moment she began to cry and you offered a sympathetic whine of your own as you adjusted your grip on her, bringing Penny up to your chest, your cheek smushed against her more plump one.

“Shhh…it’s okay, my love. Daddy’s just showering. He’ll be back.” You stood up, hitching Penny on your hip as you walked to the entrance of the small hallway so the bathroom door was visible to her. Eddie’s humming floated out from underneath the crack of it.

Penny was Eddie’s daughter, alright, full of dramatics as her breathing remained heavy, chest rising and falling quickly with the hitches in her breath as a chunky fist gripped onto your blouse, lower lip curling out and wobbling. She didn’t seem satisfied with your explanation but that didn’t worry you. If Penny was awake when Eddie left for work in the morning, she’d start bawling.

The first couple of times she’d started reacting to his departure, he’d ended up full of guilt and late to work. It still wasn’t easy for him, even after you’d finally convinced him she’d have the same reaction whether he left in the morning, afternoon, or evening. Regardless of the time, she was going to be upset that she wouldn’t be able to see her daddy, probably convinced in her little baby mind that he’d abandoned her (he’d nearly quit the shop when you’d phrased it like that) but he’d always come home to her—and you—and that’s what mattered.

You were positive she’d start yelling and shrieking when it came time for you to go back to work, too. She was just a baby, so she was being a baby.

You carried your huffing and puffing daughter back to the living room, placing her down on the carpet in front of some toys she had been playing with earlier in the day. Maybe they’d distract her.

Wrong.

She sat on the carpet, chunky legs strewn out for just a few seconds before she was moving forward onto her belly and propping herself up. Then she was off, crawling as fast as she could towards the hallway while breathing heavily with exhilaration. You trailed after her, amused at how stubborn she was when she stopped directly in front of the bathroom door, propping herself up on her bottom.

You watched Penny reach out with shaky palms, pressing them gently against the door. It looked like they were feeling around it before she began slapping them against it as hard as she could as she yelled her baby babble, no doubt demanding her daddy open the door, pick her up and love her right now.

Giggles were muffled into your palm, as she kept up with it.

Eventually, maybe when she realized that wasn’t working, Penny leaned over, wiggling around until she was on her tummy and the side of her head was resting on the carpet. You realized she was trying to look under the door for him and your heart clenched, hand flying over your chest as if you could grasp the organ.

You expected her to sit back up and go back to smacking the door but she remained there, a stubby finger absentmindedly trailing through the carpet as she stared through the thin crack, warm bathroom light and Eddie’s voice flooding out from underneath to comfort her as she waited.

Picking her up had crossed your mind, and so did the idea of how loudly she’d probably start screaming and crying if you did.

The two of you didn’t have to wait for long, the shower shut off and you could hear the sounds of the shower curtain rings scraping against the rod as Eddie pulled them back.

Panic briefly filled your chest as you realized Eddie probably wasn’t expecting his baby to be lying on the floor directly outside of the bathroom—he’d step on her, so you called out, “Heads up, Eddie, you’ve got a visitor.”

You didn’t hear a response, but a few moments later, the door opened to reveal your husband. Water droplets slipped down his neck and chest. He had one towel—that had definitely seen better days—wrapped around his waist and another (yours) he was using to scrunch up his sopping wet curls to dry them.

Eddie had heard you, shooting you a smirk before he addressed the baby beaming up at him, “Shower’s free if you wanna hop in, stinky.”

Penny had no idea what he was saying, it didn’t matter anyways because he said it in the same voice he used when he gave her kisses and held her to his chest so she was reaching up for him and he finally reached down—with clean hands—grasping her sides before she was hoisted into his arms. Penny wasted no time, mouth parting wide to mouth aggressively at his face and chin while she shook her head and wiggled about.

She was giving him kisses.

Or trying to eat him, she had little bursts of energy where she’d do that—attack you out of nowhere while you held her causing the both of you to break out laughing.

Eddie let her get it all out, and when she cooed, resting her cheek on his shoulder, he retaliated. Her cheeks and little neck rolls were smattered in his smacking kisses as she squealed and shrieked and wiggled but there was no escaping her daddy’s clutches now that she was finally in them.

When every inch of her available to him had been kissed, he turned towards you and you suddenly found yourself victim to two sets of identical crinkly brown eyes. A deep chuckle rumbled from Eddie as he padded over to where you stood, mischievous smirk making another appearance.

“Mommy’s turn.”

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ghostbsuter · 4 months

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It's not that Danny didn't try to stop them.

It's more like they really don't want to leave him alone.

Clingy they are.

It's been a day since he's been adopted by the famous Brucie Wayne. He'd tried everything to creep the man out, but?? Who knew that those aspects would make him try to speed up the process?

It's only a day, and Ember already urges him to follow Shadow, who's been leading him on a wild goose chase around the Manor.

He can hear the barely there snicker from Johnny, Kitty's muffled giggle and Embers persisting tugs.

Danny curses once he's sure the butler wouldn't hear him, giving up and following the cat.

It leads him to an office room? Shadow disappears behind the bookshelf and Danny follows behind.

He did not expect an elevator, nor how far down it goes.

Nor the giant BATCAVE UNDERNEATH WAYNE MANOR.

"That's makes explaining so much easier now."

This also explains the eerily quiet during nighttime, so he takes the chair in front of the batcomputer and sits.

Laughing when johnny falls from the T-Rex statue, overall having a good time with the trio. Hell, he nearly missed the family coming back from how hard he's laughing.

When Batman's looming form overshadows any view on his friends, Danny sobers up quickly, giving a nervous smile.

"Heyyyy, so what if i kinda found this super sketchy place, hypothetical."

"Then, hypothetically of course, you would be given an explanation and choice." Batman's stoic stance and firm voice change, from sagged shoulders and tired sigh.

Hey, that's definitely a step up from vlad.

Ember is wiggling her two fingers behind Batman's head, he stifles his giggles and nearly topples over at Kitty making swooning noises at Barbara Gordon, who is watching from the screen.

He's so screwed.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #fic prompt #writing prompt #dc x dp prompt #Danny Johnny Kitty Ember best quartet #theyre besties your honor #chaotic besties #this is lioe scooby doo man #found the batcave and immediately got danny into it #hows he gonna tell bruce he basically adopted a 1 for 4 deal #he and they are a package deal

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fifthnailinstevesbat · 6 days

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after the events of season 4, steve just wanting SO BADLY to be friends with eddie. just LOVING the idea of them getting closer and having eddie as a friend because hell yeah! a close male friendship with someone that is actually my age, and who i don’t have a weird history with involving bruised eyes and love triangles? count me IN! and eddie is FUN, he is actually hilarious! the way they share the same glances of understanding when dustin is being an absolute shit head, rambling on and on about some obscure topic, expecting everyone to always be on the exact same page as him. of course. and, although steve suspects that eddie actually probably is keeping up with everything dustin says, much better than he ever could, he knows that above it all eddie can appreciate the antics for what they are, and roll his eyes with steve at dustin, i concur, you dustin henderson, are a total butthead.

steve just about junps RIGHT IN to being friends with eddie. hey man, what’cha up to tonight? wanna watch a movie? get drunk, smoke a bit? hey eddie, how have you been, man? he starts calling eddie up on the phone regularly just to check in, shoot the shit, he loves it! he loves having this new friendship with eddie munson and he loves how much the other boy has surprised him with how much he actually enjoys being around him. he’s not a freak, really, well ok maybe he is a little bit, but only in the best ways. he’s kind, thoughtful, and is always looking out for the people he cares about, which is something steve can really respect in a dude. but he’s also so funny? steve never could’ve anticipated just how much eddie has managed to make him genuinely LAUGH over their short amount of time spent together. and he’s really, out there? with the way he presents himself, the way he takes up space with these big THEATRICAL movements, leaving no room for regret or shame or god forbid embarrassment. steve isn’t even sure munson is capable of feeling it at all.

eddie munson is a good dude, and steve could use a bit more of that kind of person around him. he loves all of his friends, the weird little bonded family he’s found himself apart of, and they are all good people, but it never hurts to have afew more added in here and there. it never hurts to know there are more good people out there to find.

so steve is all over eddie, it seems.

at least, from where eddie is standing. nobody else seems as phased as eddie does at this sudden change in steve’s demeanour, in his interest in what eddie munson spends his time doing these days. it seems like, to everyone else, to steve, it’s just a natural progression in their relationship, after being sort of role model figures to the same group of kids, both being the two single dudes, who fought the same monsters together last spring, it seems nobody questions too much that they’d start casually hanging around eachother more. especially since eddie has found himself to fit into his own special spot as one of the group now after it all, after he unwillingly became tangled in this whole upsidedown-superpowers-supernatural-monsters and demons debacle, and tangled quite dramatically at that, the rest of the group that’s been with this since the beginning seemed to find no trouble in taking him in and seeing him as “one of them” now.

so, steve asking eddie to smoke, to watch movies, to go for a drive with no real end destination, it’s not really something that earns them too many double takes. dustin makes a comment or two in the beginning, because steve since when did you like hanging out with eddie? you guys are like so opposite, you don’t like any of the same stuff he does? and steve barely gives a shrug and a dismissive yeah yeah whatever man in response, with a signature eye roll, and dustin had said it seemingly also not too seriously, poking fun at steve wherever he can, not really meaning anything by it, as he fidgets around and rambles in the backseat of steve’s car, eddie riding up front. after that, though, he’s dropped it. it’s never brought up again. part of eddie thinks, too, that dustin would actually be enjoying that his two older friends are becoming friends themselves.

robin seems to be the only other person to look a bit harder at their situation, lingering stares at their interactions, all squinted eyes and eyebrows raised, though from her all this seems to be almost always and only ever directed at steve. eddie’s not sure what to make of that. isn’t he the weird one? i mean, he’s the one that stands out, right? he’s the odd denominator that makes their friendship strange. why would steve harrington want to hang out with Him? HIM? but robin doesn’t spend her time studying eddie to try and search for what about him could possibly have piqued the interest of cherished steven harrington, no, shes always looking at steve. like she’s seeing him differently, almost. eddie doesn’t even think that steve notices it, either, because he doesn’t seem to be questioning or doubting anything odd or strange or out of the ordinary with their newfound time spent together. and maybe, maybe robin is seeing him differently. eddie knows he definitely has been. seeing him more, intensely. deeply. human. seeing the person that steve is, as just steve, not this idealised version of a boy that eddies starting to question ever really even existed at all, or if everyone around him just needed to believe that he did, and who was steve if not happy to comply to the wants of the people around him for who he should be?

eddie likes having steve as his friend, too. don’t get it twisted. he loves how unexpectedly expressive steve is about everything, even really small things. steve LOVES to raise his voice, rest a hand on his popped hip, scolding the kids for something stupid with no real heat or malice behind it. and steve is, like, kinda bitchy too. eddie knew he had the capacity to be a real asshole when he wanted to be, that’s all he knew steve for back in the day, when he was back in high school, hanging around tommy h and the basketball boys, the jocks. eddie would spend his days hearing only whispers and gossip in the hallways of the parties at king steve’s house and the fights king steve had started and won on the court or out in the fields, only ever getting as close as a shove into a locker with the guy at the time, but eddie knew how it could go. he knew all about what steve had done to jonathan, what he’d said to him, the words he’d used. eddie knew it all. he’d seen enough, and been through enough himself, to know how these guys acted in response to guys like him, like jonathan, people who were lower on the social food chain. so, eddie knew about steve’s “mean streak”, if you will, but this kind of snarky bitchiness was something new to him. harrington was almost, sassy, when he wanted to be. it was less so cruel and more just, just sass. if he’s being completely honest it kind of blew eddie away, at first. he thought steve was one of those dull headed jocks who thought with their fists more than their actual brains, but that couldn’t have been farther from the truth. steve’s insults were well thought out, they were FUNNY, he was smart with his words. and silly. oh my god steve harrington could be so fucking silly, real honest to god goofball when the moment called for it, when he felt comfortable enough. eddie had caught on multiple occasions steve mimicking lightsabers to play fight with dustin, or the stupid fucking shit he would do or say just to make robin laugh, singing along to a song playing on the radio with a funny voice.

it was all a little, intoxicating, to watch. eddie didn’t know what gave him the right to be in on this now, to get to see this side of steve and better yet to be at the other end of some of his best qualities. it was fun, all the time they spent together, but there was always something else tugging inside eddie everytime they spent close time together, too. something, he knew steve wasn’t aware of. something he knew steve wasn’t equipped to deal with. something he knew, was him. was him, making things something more than they should be, because, nobody seemed to be questioning that they could become friends, so why ruin that? why disrupt it?

- robin and steve

“Steve.”

“-but then like, it wasn’t that I didn’t want to watch it I just thought, hey, y’know, let’s try something different for a change, but then he- oh my god he honest to god TACKLED ME Robin — I mean, it was so fucking funny and it happened so quick — and all over a fucking Tom Cruise movie-“

“STEVE.” Robin lightly slammed a hand onto the counter. She had been standing behind it for no short of 20 minutes, watching Steve as he paced around, supposed to be stacking tapes onto shelves, but ended up spending the whole time going on and on, and ON, about how movie night went with Eddie last night. She thought she was bad…

Steve jumped, almost running into a shelf and knocking down his hard work, and seemed to snap out of whatever trance he had found himself in after starting to tell Robin a story about something funny Eddie had done last night.

“Shit, sorry. Sorry, what were you saying? Were you- were you saying something?”

To this, Robin just rolls her eyes and let’s out a laugh, “You, sir, are goddamn hopeless.”

“Sorry. How long was I talking for?” Steve wandered his way over to lean his arms onto the counter from the opposite side.

“Oh, I dunno Steve, just about half an HOUR?”

“That is an over exaggeration Robin, it’s only been like-“

“Honestly, man, i’m concerned for you. You are like next level OBSESSED with Eddie. Eddie Munson. You do realise this right??? You are obsessed with him, Steve.”

To this Steve sputters, lazily waving his hands back and forth.

“No, Robin, what the hell are you talking about? I am not OBSESSED. No need to be jealous, alright, Stevie-Boy here can have more than one friend. Your spot in my heart isn’t any less special now that it’s beginning to be shared by another.” He bats his eyelashes up at her, holding both hands over his chest as if to cradle his heart.

“Oh my GOD! You even SOUND LIKE HIM!”, she playfully slaps his shoulder. “Steve. You are obsessed.”

“I am not obsessed! He’s just a really great guy, alright-“

“Blah blah, yep whatever you say, lover boy.” Robin quips, plopping down onto the chair chair infront of their staff computer, turning herself to face it.

“Wha- what? Lover boy? What the hell Robin, that is not- that doesn’t even make any sense!”

She is just smiling at him now, enjoying seeing him spiral like this. Steve let’s out a sigh as he puts his hands on his hips, and shakes his head, looking at her right back.

He opens and closes his mouth afew times, like he’s really thinking about what he wants to say next. Or like he has no idea what to say next, and his brain is not moving fast enough to formulate the next sentence his mouth knows he wants to say. He wasn’t obsessed. That’s not- that’s like- no. No he was not, Robin was just playing around with him, she knew how to get on his nerves. Get him all wound up over little things just to see him react like this.

After a minute or two, Robin realises Steve was not going to reply anytime soon, so she turns fully back toward him. Saving him from his spiral.

“So, what are you’re plans for tonight Steve-O?”

He lets out a chuckle and walks around the counter till he’s behind it with Robin, leaning his back against it so he can stand across from her and face her.

“Well, not really sure. Parents aren’t home, no early shift tomorrow, might drink afew beers, listen to some music, —“

“See what Eddie’s doin?” Robin finishes for him, quirking her eyebrows up and down as she does it.

“Oh shut up!” Steve just laughs and softly throws a tape from the counter at her chest. “As a matter of fact, yeah I will see what he’s up to. Because we are friends now, Robin. Is that a problem? Actually I was also gonna ask you what you were up to after work, too, but you know what after this I’m having second thoughts, I mean, the way you’ve been treating me lately-“

“Oh my god, you are the worst. Yes, I’m free, of course I’ll hang out with you dingus. You and your tweedle dee.”

Steve laughs at this, then tilts his head.

“Wait, does that make me dumb? Tweedle dumb?! That’s how you see me?”

“Yeah it is actually, got a problem?”

“Oh wow, she’s feisty today. Can’t believe you think I’m dumb, Rob’s. When you come knockin’ tonight, do not expect a warm greeting at my front door.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll take my chances.”

- later. steve’s house. to be continued?

#just been having steddie post season 4 thoughts #been missing the era of the fandom just sort of starting during that time between vol 1 and 2 #how every fic had their own little way of resolving the upside down/vecna problem just written into afew small paragraphs #really just getting to know these characters as a pairing #most importantly before seeing them as a couple #seeing them as friends #how they would genuinely interact and get along #what their dynamics would look like #steddie early days truly have my whole entire heart #coming onto tumblr the weeks following vol1 of s4 was magical #anywho yeah non vol2 compliant steddie for you #more so just #eddie didn’t die steddie for you #they become friends bc truly i actually believe that had he lived they would have #it just makes sense #stranger things #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things 4 #stranger things season 4 #robin buckley #dustin henderson #also lmk if i should keep adding to this…might abyways bc i’m enjoying this #steddie fic #steddie fic idea #steddie ficlet #steddie fanfiction

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