#lucas hood ask

[sheifflucashood]

starter number 5 (open)

Lucas Hood faces the mirror at the sheriff's department. No one around. My name is Lucas Hood, and im the sheriff too. Banshee. He repeats like a mantra so much so that he believes it. Then he sighs to himself inward. Come on, Thomas, stop lying to yourself. This is not going to work forever. He thought to himself as the door to the police station opened up. He popped his head out to see who it is.

[lycans-art-kingdom]

It's been one year since I started my artblog.

I cannot begin to express how much this has changed my life, the communities I've joined, the friends I made, my life that was changed for the amazing. I couldn't be happier

To celebrate, I'm hosting a QnA! You can either ask me about my experience with drawing, my life or just factoids, or you could ask the stars of the blog, Lucas and Laura!

Happy one year to my Kingdom!!!

[fizzyxcustard]

Any Christmas/winter traditions that you loved, or would love to, figure out how to put in a fic?

Ooooo! Good question! The main fics I’d really have issues with putting Christmas traditions into is Middle-earth, Pilgrimage (Raymond) and Robin Hood (Guy). The fact I write a lot of modern reader inserts does help with that. 🤣

Some of my favourite traditions as a kid were carol singing and stockings. Maybe a reader could teach Guy and Raymond some carols from the future. And if you tried to teach Thorin, he’d have absolutely no idea what they’re about. So you’d have to give him all the background details.

Leaving stockings for Guy and Raymond would be fun. Just have to make sure the socks are clean! 🤣🤣🤣 And then wake them up by smacking their legs with these filled socks.

It’d be so fun making stockings in Erebor, and teaching the children. I know if I was in Middle-earth, I’d love teaching the children craft tips.

I can imagine the modern characters, like Lucas North, John Porter and John Thornton (hey! He’s still more modern than Guy and Raymond) really loving your enthusiasm with traditions. Lucas would probably love it the most as he’s not had much of a Christmas in many years…and my mind is now starting to think about that. *fic alert!* John Thornton would watch you so lovingly from across the room as you fill stockings and hum carols.

Thank you for this ask! It was fun. ❤️❤️❤️❤️

[flaggermuser]

drop this sunflower🌻into the inboxes of the blogs that make you happy! lets spread a little sunshine ☀️

This is us <3

[poptart-cat-78]

I'd love to hear more about children of the moon!

AJAKDJALSJA I WAS JUST WORKING ON THAT FIC!

My “Baron Friedrich von Glower (the Gabriel Knight series) is Ruby Lucas’ (Ouat) older brother fan fic!”Both of them are lonely queer werewolves looking for romance and the name of the fic is based off the episode where Ruby meets her mother (Child or the Moon -> Children of the Moon, see what I did there?) In that episode, Anita, Ruby’s mother talks about embracing her “Inner Nature” and basically trading the human side of her for her wolf side (something Friedrich believes in as well).

Knowing how Ouat writers made characters related all the time, it only made sense to make these very similar werewolf characters related.

Here is a snippet!:

“The two wolves circled each other, waiting for the other to make a move. Ruby knew she couldn't take on the other, just by it's size and smell, she knew it was an Alpha, a male Alpha at that. But something about his scent was.. familiar, his fur was black, just like hers. She dared not to get too close to him, he was twice as big as she was. But she was curious, this wolf looked and smelled like her Mother.”

BONUS! some dialogue:

“Do you know.. what it's like to be the only one of your kind?" "You have no idea, bisschen rot (little Red)"

[lovebugism]

“don’t you dare touch him” eddie x shy!reader

idk i need a situation where reader never really speaks up but she finally does when it comes to eddie because she loves him sm😭

thanks so much for your request! hope you like it!! — the one where eddie melts when his quiet gf sticks up for him in front of jason (shy!reader, fluff, 2.4k)

bug's summer fic fest ♡

The drive from Forest Hills to the arcade is spent with Lucas and Dustin bickering in the backseat and Eddie’s hand on your thigh.

“It’s been two years, and you still can’t beat my high score, Dusty Bun,” the former boy taunts. The nickname spills like venom from his smiling face. “Just give it up, okay? It’s not happening.”

Dustin grins back at him. It’s more so mischievous than it is taunting. His deep blue eyes narrow in a challenging squint. “You are so gonna be eating your words by the end of the night. When we leave, Princess Daphne is gonna be mine, alright? For good.”

Their arguing becomes background noise. With your cheek lolled against the hand you’ve got propped against the window, you’re pulled into the wispy lilac cloud your gaze is so heavily fixated upon. The sky billows lavender against a sea of pink and golden orange — a summer sunset so vivid you can taste it.

The only thing keeping you grounded is Eddie’s palm on your knee, wide and warm and all-consuming. His thumb rubs against your skin so softly you think it must be absentminded. It feels like static shock, anyway. He laughs quietly to himself, and his fingers tremble gently against you. This time they squeeze you with a newfound intention as he brings you back to him.

“What do you think, babe?” Eddie asks, pink mouth spread in a pearly white grin. His chocolate eyes glimmer with the golden hour sun as his gaze flits between yours and the road. “Think Dusty Bun has a chance here?”

You nod, scrunched nose and squinted eyes, silent in your support for the curly-headed boy who’s still yelling over Lucas in the back of the van.

“What about me?” he presses. And because he knows better than to give his quiet girl anything other than a yes or no answer, he follows quickly, “You think today’s the day I finally beat your Space Invaders high score?”

A beat passes. The momentary silence is filled with arguing boys, old tires on older asphalt, and Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” spilling softly from the radio. A quiet smile tugs at the corners of your mouth. You purse the mischievous expression to the side as you turn away from him again.

Your non-answer makes him laugh. It sounds exactly like the colors of the sunset.

His beat-up van jerks when he puts it into park. The door on the side squeaks as the kids file out of it. Eddie’s does too, but you can’t hear it over him telling you to “sit tight.” 

You wait patiently in the passenger seat like you always do, smiling to yourself as the boy rushes around the hood to open the door for you. The hinges screech in protest. His wild curls billow in the wind as he smiles. “C’mon, sunshine. Our palace awaits.”

The group of you stand beneath the spinning neon sign he parked next to — glowing orange and white beneath a setting sun. Someone calls from across the parking lot, “Well, well, well. Look who it is.”

Your heads snap in the direction of the painfully familiar voice. 

Jason and the rest of his abnormally tall goons stand outside the new gym that just opened on the strip. The dark, vacant building wedged between The Palace and Family Video was no longer as scary as it used to be now that it was occupied. You were just hoping it’d be something more exciting. Forcing arcade nerds and gym bros into one spot feels like a crime.

“And they brought little miss wallflower, too,” Jason lilts with his pretty smile and straight teeth. His blonde hair is a darker shade of brown, damp with half-dried sweat. His lean form is unnaturally built underneath his white tank top and basketball shorts. 

It isn’t any wonder why he turned out to be such a raging douchebag. 

Someone so perfect needed at least one flaw.

“The gang’s all here, huh?” one of his other friends — Andy, you think — concurs from behind him, always in the boy’s shadow.

“Like what you see, fellas?” Eddie calls out from across the slab of pavement separating the group of you. He’ll never turn down an opportunity to take the piss out of the so-called jocks, all muscle and no brain. 

“What do we do when those assholes give us hell?” he’d often ask when you’ve had a particularly shitty day with them. “We give ‘em hell right back.”

Jason’s thin lips curl into a more mischievous smirk. His blue eyes are lighter in the golden sunlight, and they twinkle beneath the neon signs as he looks you up and down. “Yeah, actually,” he hums with his unabashed ogling. “I do.”

Mike’s lanky legs sidestep to stand ahead of you. He does it so swiftly, so instinctually, you don’t think he even really meant to do it. Despite the raven-haired boy halfway covering you, you cross your arms over your torso in a further attempt to keep yourself hidden. 

You feel so suddenly exposed in your frilly floral sundress — especially considering the only thing you wear to school is baggy jeans and baggier sweaters. You feel like you might as well be naked standing in front of them just now.

The younger boys stand on high alert as Eddie walks the short distance to Jason. The brief journey is made quicker when the blonde boy strides to meet him halfway. It’s a high school sort of standoff — neither particularly wanting to get physical because the real-life repercussions aren’t worth it. They just want to see who can piss each other off the most.

“She is pretty, isn’t she?” Eddie concedes with a grin, flashing you a brief glance over his shoulder. He turns away quickly at the sight of your wide, pleading eyes. He scrunches his nose in feigned sympathy. “I bet you’re real jealous, huh? Especially now that you’ve got nothing but your right hand keeping you company ever since Chrissy dumped your ass.”

“Watch it,” Jason warns through gritted teeth.

“I think I saw her riding around last week with Harrington, actually.”

The blonde boy’s sneakers scuff against the concrete as he takes a daring step closer. His piercing stare never wavers. “Don’t talk about Chrissy.”

“Don’t talk about my girl, and I won’t talk about yours,” Eddie retorts in lilt. And then, because he can’t help but twist the knife, he tilts his head to his shoulder and continues. “Well, I guess she’s not really yours anymore, is she?”

“I said don’t talk about Chrissy!” Jason repeats, louder than before, when he lets his anger get the best of him. One hand shoots up to shove at Eddie’s chest, using only enough force to make the boy stumble slightly back. 

While Dustin, Lucas, and Mike gear up for a fight, Eddie only laughs in response — big, boisterous, and boyish.

You don’t even realize you’re stepping in front of the group until you’re already doing it. The words seem to fly from your mouth without you even thinking about them. “Don’t touch him!” you shout. 

And even though it wasn’t particularly loud, it quiets in the mindless bickering all at once. Everyone turns to gape at you — Jason, Andy, Dustin, Eddie. Everyone is equally surprised by your outburst. Because you don’t speak. Ever. At least, not if you can help it. 

And it’s not because you don’t have anything to say, because you do. It’s just that your brain works too much, and your mouth can’t keep up with it sometimes. It’s easier just to be silent.

That’s what you’ve been known for ever since you were little. You went through all of it — the bullying, the sad eyes, the talks with teachers, the ‘is everything alright at home’s. Everything was fine, for the most part. Your childhood was equally as middling as everyone else’s. You just had a harder time being human than most people.

Jason smiles again, amused by your warning. “What was that, sweetheart?”

You swallow through a tightening throat. Your sweaty hands clench into balls at your sides. The words come out quieter than before, but no less meaningful. “I said… Don’t touch him.”

“Oh, so she does speak. Here I thought no one ever taught you how to,” the blonde boy laughs. You feel disgusting when his attention settles solely upon you. The lingering sick feeling is eclipsed by your gratitude that Eddie’s no longer in his line of fire. “I’m gonna be honest… I thought you were cuter when you were quiet.”

You don’t know what he means by that. You can’t tell if he’s being genuine, or if he thinks you care enough about what he thinks to slink back into your shell.

“Leave Eddie alone,” you retort drily.

He snorts. “Yeah? Or what?”

There’s a thousand words you want to say. You open your mouth to spit all of them at the boy across from you, but nothing comes out.

“Yeah,” Jason laughs at your silence. “That’s what I thought.”

You stand your ground when he walks towards you. His strides are slow and menacing, like he’s expecting you to back away. You might’ve if you were anywhere else — if Eddie wasn’t a couple feet away and the rest of your friends weren’t crowding behind you. You’re made somehow braver by their presence.

“This is a really cute dress, though, sweetheart,” the blonde boy compliments with a thin smirk. “You should dress like this more often. You know what? You’d really fit in at the strip club downtown— what’s it called?”

“Pink Paradise,” Andy answers without missing a beat.

Jason smacks his lips against his teeth. “That’s the one.”

“Is that the one your mom works at?” you wonder with your arms crossed over your chest. Your head tilts to your shoulder as you squint at him. “Is she still giving those two-for-one discounts?” 

Jason’s confidence stutters at your biting reply — even more so by the choked-back laughter accompanying it. Your boys don’t bother to hide their humored giggles, though the basketball team covers theirs by coughing into their fists.

“Ooh. I didn’t know you had such a much on you,” the blonde lilts as his blue eyes narrow. “I’m like… fifty percent more attracted to you now.”

“Leave Eddie alone,” you deadpan once more. “And go be a douchebag somewhere else.”

One of his friends breaks free from the pack. He’s tall, thin, and toned. He’s got the same haircut as Lucas: compact curls, squared off on the sides. You know him — Patrick McKinney. He’s the only one of Jason’s friends that was actually nice to you. Or, at the very least, he wasn’t a total asshole.

“Let’s go, man,” the boy ushers, nudging at Jason’s bicep. “Let’s go shoot some hoops or something. This isn’t worth it.”

You scoff out a laugh. “Oh, please— the only shooting Jason Carver does is into a kleenex. It’s why you were benched all last season.”

“I twisted my ankle!” the blonde boy defends, sounding weak and pathetic beneath the chorus of laughter as Patrick drags him away.

“Whatever helps you sleep at night,” you mutter, perhaps too quiet for him to hear, as Lucas pulls at your forearm to guide you in the other direction. His touch is still gentle — it would be uncharacteristic of him to be rough with you. It would also be a terrible idea with Eddie just a few paces behind the both of you.

The walk to The Palace is a silent one. There’s too much to say, and everyone’s just a little too amazed to say it. Eddie, however, never had a hard time killing a quiet. He rushes on long legs to match your quick strides, reaching you rather easily. 

“Hey, hey, hey— you okay, babe?” the worried boy wonders. He takes a gentle hold of your wrists when you reach the awning beneath the arcade. His chocolate gaze flits attentively over your form, nowhere near as leering as Jason had been. 

He can tell by your heaving chest and glassy eyes that you’re a little overwhelmed. When he takes your face in his hands, he finds that your cheeks are burning, too.

You nod into his warm palms in silent reply, back in the comfort of your shell all over again.

“What’d you do that for, huh?” Eddie singsongs with a quiet laugh. His thumb dances over your cheekbones as he grins at you. “You know I don’t like you getting involved with those assholes.”

“They don’t get to talk to you like that… Or put their hands on you,” you mutter. Despite your soft tone, Eddie can see the fury flashing in your eyes, getting angry about it all over again.

His smile widens — proud and hopelessly in love with you. “No. They don’t. Especially not with my girl around, huh?”

“Nope,” you murmur, popping the p. A sheepish grin pulls at your mouth, equally as proud and in love.

Eddie leans down to kiss you, guiding your mouth to his with the hands cupping your jaw. It’s innocuously chaste, being that you’re still standing in a public parking lot. You could never quite stomach the attention of PDA, anyway. His pink lips lock with yours in a fleeting peck, and his arms wrap around you a second later.

He smothers you into his chest, and you revel in every second of it. He smells like cigarette smoke and the cologne he tried to cover it up with. He smells like a home you could live in forever. 

You smile into the thrifted Blondie tee you got him — which he happily accepted because he loves you (even though he hates Blondie). He presses a kiss into your hair and smushes his nose into the crown of it as he laughs.

“‘Is that the one your mom works at?’” Eddie repeats with a soft chuckle, chest swelling with pride once more. “God, babe. That’s good.”

“Shut up…” you murmur.

“I’m serious! I didn’t know you were such a good smack-talker! I think you might be a genius, actually.”

“Don’t,” you grouse with a lighthearted scowl. You pull away from him only slightly — enough for him to put your face back in his hands again. You feel safest there, even if you are pouting up at him.

“You’re so cute,” the boy muses with a beam. His eyes glimmer like a sea of chocolate syrup, melting with all the love he has for you. “You’re like a cinnamon roll. A cinnamon roll that could bite people.”

“That’s exactly what I am,” you monotone and try your best not to smile.

Eddie couldn’t hide his grin if he tried. “And that’s exactly why I love you.”

[ashwhowrites]

Dustin's babysitter

Eddie x Dustin's babysitter

A small idea that ran through my head. I hope you guys enjoy this🫶🏻 and thank you for reading!

Dustin wasn't a fan of admitting he still had a babysitter. His friends always teased him but his mom was just scared of the world and wanted extra eyes on him. Dustin loved his babysitter, Y/N. He always had a blast with her, she interacted with him and he liked to believe they were good friends.

Dustin groaned when he saw Y/N's car pulling up to grab him from hellfire. He hated his friends knowing, and he didn't want to admit to Eddie he needed a babysitter.

"Awwww Dusty's little babysitter is here!" Mike mocked, his voice like a baby.

Dustin blushed and rolled his eyes. So much for not wanting Eddie to know, Dustin thought.

"Woah! Henderson, do you still have a babysitter? Aren't you like in high school?" Eddie asked, confusion on his face and a slight smile peeking out.

"My mom is paranoid, okay!" Dustin argued he tried to quickly walk to her car as she still drove up, but he yanked open her door before she even parked.

"You okay?" She asked, Dustin sighed and nodded. It wasn't her fault he was embarrassed. She was simply doing her job.

"...well let me meet this said babysitter." She heard a deep voice say, definitely older than the young teens she was around.

Then a face appeared in Dustin's open window. She saw dark curly long hair and dazzling brown eyes. This boy was much older, and she was thankful for that because he was damn hot.

Eddie wasn't sure what smart-ass remark he planned to make. He met her eyes and found himself wishing he needed a babysitter. She was gorgeous, hot, and sexy all at once. In simple jeans and a hooded sweatshirt, but he swore she glowed. He snapped out of his daydream and turned on his charm.

A smirk on his face as he held out his ring-filled hand, "Name is Eddie Munson, and you are?"

"Y/N, it's nice to meet you." She said with a polite smile as she shook his cold metal hand. The weight of his rings made his hand feel heavy, yet she didn't mind.

Dustin watched between the two, eyeing the way they stared, and didn't let go of each other. He awkwardly coughed, causing them to jump apart with embarrassed smiles. Eddie pulled back his hand and held it behind his back.

"I'll see you around, Eddie." She said and pulled out of the parking lot. Eddie straightened his spine as he watched the car take off.

"Wow, she's -" he started but Mike and Lucas cut him off.

"Hot," they said in unison with a knowing smirk.

"Yeah, hot." Eddie agreed, his mind filled with her and her only.

~~~

"Pizza is coming at 7, so just don't be later than that," Dustin said to the gang as they circled in the hallway.

"Do I have to be there?" Max asked with a sigh, she did not want to spend her Friday night at Dustin's house.

"Not like you have anything better to do," Dustin argued with a glare. Max sighed but agreed that he was right.

"So my house before 7!" Dustin said one last time, the gang nodded and everyone understood.

"Having a party little man?" Eddie asked as he walked up, overhearing the conversation. It was a Friday night and he kinda hoped Dustin's mom had big plans for the night.

"Sorta! Why? Are you interested?" Dustin asked excitedly, Eddie was slowly becoming like a big brother and he wanted to hang out with him more.

"Will your mom be there?" Eddie asked slight hope in his voice.

"Nope!"

"Then I'm there," Eddie said with a wink. He couldn't wait for tonight.

"Okay! Bring your apron!" Dustin said as the final bell rang. He was quick to walk down the hall for class.

"WAIT! APRON!?" Eddie called after him but the halls got loud with all the commotion.

~~~

Once school ended, Eddie raced him with excitement. He dug through his closet to find his best clothes, and he picked out his best jewelry. He sprayed cologne all over himself and covered his lips in chapstick....just in case.

He didn't want to seem too eager so he waited to show up around 7 o'clock. He knocked on the door and rocked on his heels. He planned to talk Y/N's ear off all night and then ask her out. And hopefully, end the night with his lips on hers.

"You made it!" Dustin cheered as he opened the door. Eddie walked through and saw the gang all covered in flour.

"What's going on?" Eddie asked

"Bake sale!" Dustin said as they walked into the kitchen. Eddie did not know what he got himself into. A bake sale? Eddie does not bake, he gets baked.

"Oh hell no, I'm not baking." Eddie laughed, he took in the room and noticed Y/N wasn't even there.

"Where's your babysitter?"

"Right here," Steve said as he walked into the kitchen. A towel over his shoulder and a dirty apron on his body. "You must be Eddie?" Steve asked.

"Son of a bitch!" Eddie groaned.

~~~

After Eddie's big fail of a Friday night, he didn't have much energy for Saturday. Of course, Henderson has two babysitters and Y/N wasn't there the night he was around. And he got stuck baking over a hundred cookies. Safe to stay, he learned his lesson of jumping into plans.

Eddie was trying to work on his campaign when his line rang. He groaned and walked over to pick it up, figuring it would be Wayne. But instead, he heard Dustin's familiar voice on the other line.

"Hey! I got this new video game, wanna come over and try it? Mom's gone so you can bring your beers."

Eddie had to admit, drinking and video games were tempting.

"Babysitter gonna allow that?" Eddie asked.

"Y/N wo-" "I'm on my way" Eddie cut him off and raced to his room. Once again, he found his best clothes, sprayed himself in cologne, and grabbed a beer case from his closet.

Eddie prepped himself during the car ride. He had limited time to make his impression on her and a little time to get her number. He didn't want to ditch Dustin too much so he needed to give equal time to the young kid. And to make it not noticeable Eddie was going for the hot babysitter.

~

Dustin raced to the door to answer it when Eddie knocked, excitedly dragging him to the couch as he had the game all set to go. But before they could start, Eddie's prayers were answered.

"What's Eddie doing here?" She asked confused, Dustin didn't need permission but she wasn't aware he invited anyone over.

"New video game!" Dustin said, remote in hand.

"Nah uh, you still need to clean your room. Mom said that before the new game." Y/N reminded him with a stern tone. Dustin sighed but listened. His shoulders slumped as he walked into his room. "ONE SECOND EDDIE!"

"I'm sorry to make you wait. He didn't tell me." Y/N said, "But you can play if you want while you wait for him."

"Wanna join me?" He asked, holding out Dustin's remote with a smile. This was his chance.

"I don't know how to play," Y/N said, a little nervous. She didn't want to look like an idiot in front of Dustin's incredibly hot friend.

"I'll teach ya, baby. Come sit." He patted the cushion next to him, excitement in his stomach as she shuffled towards him. She tried to fight off the blush on her cheeks from the nickname.

She sat next to him and tried to listen to his instructions, but her nose caught his scent and traveled to her brain. All she could focus on was how amazing he smelled, how his T-shirt fit him in all the right places, and how his jeans touched her legs.

"Ready?" He asked, his head turned to look at her. She felt her breath get stuck in her throat, she had no idea what to do. She coughed and snapped herself back into reality. "let's do it!" She smiled.

Within the first five minutes, Eddie could sense she was struggling, he reached over and held his hand over hers. His fingers and thumbs pressed her fingers into the correct buttons. Again his scent filled her nose and his hair tickled her neck.

His hands felt warm and rough, but she liked it.

"See, you got it!" Eddie encouraged, slowly taking his hands off hers as she focused on the game. She was playing it by herself and successfully!

"Like this?" She asked but her eyes were still on the screen. His head turned as he looked at her. "like that" he whispered.

She turned her head to look back at him and held her breath when she noticed how close their faces were. She bit her lip as his eyes looked at her lips, her eyes, and back to her lips. She couldn't help but look at his lips as well. They were so pink and looked so soft.

"Did good?" She breathed out, her eyes still on his lips.

"Very good." He whispered, his right hand cupped her cheek and he slowly leaned in. He smiled as her eyes fluttered shut and her head moved forward. He closed his eyes and killed the space between them. His lips were on hers as he softly tasted her. He felt a fire burning in his stomach and fuzziness all over his body. Her hand slipped from the controller and moved to his chest. Her palms rested against him as she kissed back.

"ALL DONE!" Dustin screamed, causing Y/N to jump back and shuffle over. Eddie groaned in disappointment as Dustin interrupted.

"I'll leave you boys to it." She said softly with a smile, her fingertips touching her lips as she stood up, a little dazed.

"Can I get your number? Maybe take you on a date?" Eddie asked before his chance was up.

"Oh absolutely. I'll go write it down." She said as she rushed to the kitchen. Eddie couldn't help but keep his eyes on her as she walked away.

"That excited to play?" Dustin asked, seeing the huge smile on Eddie's face.

"Very damn excited," Eddie said, his smile never leaving as Dustin pressed play.

Eddie scored a date with the babysitter.

Tags!

@bmunson86 @mxcheese @ladymunson @michaelfuckinglangdon @z0mbie-blah @biittersweet @mirrorsstuff @somethingvicked @micheledawn1975 @ago-godance @magnificantmermaid @tlclick73 @hargrovesswifee @cityofidek @manyfandomsfanvergentreblogs @silky-luxe @lokiofasgard616 @loving-and-dreaming @eddiemunsonsbitch69 @thegemaqua @ashlynnkennedy @strangerthingsstories5255 @harringt8ns @pleasinghellfire @whoscamila @stusdollface93 @gretavankleep37 @bellaisswagger

[steddiealltheway]

Steve can see it in Max. That same loneliness and ache that he finds in himself. For him, it’s result of his parents leaving with no intent to return to him unless absolutely necessary.

He knows he was an accident. Or rather a mistake as his father used to call him when he was particularly angry. But it made sense to him. Steve's the reason his father had to marry his mother. He left him "trapped." And maybe no one says it out loud, but he can tell his mother feels the same way too.

But they must keep up appearances, right?

Which is what Max has been trying to do since Billy died, El moved away, and it's been just her and her mom. But she's been going about it through a different route - pushing people away all while pretending things are fine. But Steve sees the way she picks up the broken pieces of her mom and tries to put them back together - Steve's had to do the same thing before.

So, he starts sticking around a little longer. Offering her more rides to the arcade and around town to pick up groceries when she needs to. Sometimes he'll tell her about a new recipe he's been trying for a casserole and pick up the ingredients, pretending like the milk and butter he bought will spoil by the time he drives home from her trailer.

Of course, they both know it's a lie, but Max humors him and plays along. She'll let him cook dinner while she picks up the bottles her mom left on the floor, dumps out the overflowing ashtray, and feeds the dog. Usually, Steve will ask her what she's learning in school and linger a little longer than usual in hopes that she'll say more than the usual, "I don't know. A bunch of boring stuff."

But lingering has gotten a lot of things out of Max such as her love for Kate Bush, a story about El and how much she misses her, and short quips about Lucas before she gets a sad smile on her face. Steve doesn't really know what to say most of the time, but he hopes that just being there will help.

Unfortunately, lingering and just being there has led him to his current predicament of none other than Eddie "The Freak" Munson sitting on the hood of his car glaring at him as he walks out of Max's place. Steve jumps a little, startled by the figure on his car and becoming more hostile as he sees the expression on his face. He shoves his hands in his pockets and slows his pace. "Is there a problem?"

Eddie snorts humorlessly. "Christ. You're really going to pretend like there's nothing wrong with what's happening?"

Steve's brows furrow, entirely missing whatever point he's trying to make.

Eddie stands up and stalks toward him. "I see you, you know. Always lurking around when her mom isn't home. Coming out of her trailer late at night."

Steve laughs, finally understanding the absurd conclusion he's come to. "Jesus, man. You're delusional."

Steve doesn't expect it, but Eddie sharply shoves his chest and grits, "I don't fucking lie to me, Harrington."

Steve holds his hands up. "I'm not," he firmly states. "Nothing like that is happening here. I'm glad you're looking out for her, but it isn't like that."

"Do you expect me to believe that? Maybe this is why you're always hanging around Henderson and the other kids."

Steve crosses his arms and his jaw tenses. "I'm not a fucking pervert or a pedophile if that's what you're trying to say. I'm just looking after them."

"Why?" Eddie asks, dramatically opening his arms, "Why would King Steve adopt a group of misfits to take under his wing? See, the math isn't adding up."

Usually, Steve would just brush it off and tell the person to fuck off and mind their own business. But his parents have just left town again without leaving a note and Max had snapped when Steve tried to help her clean the place because it looked worse than usual, and he was just generally feeling like shit and angry at his parents and Max's parents for not being there. So he broke, "Because I don't want Max to end up like me! I don't want any of those kids to grow up without a role model. And god forbid if any of those other kids' parents fuck up, and they’re left with only me. I need them to know that I'm there for them! Because sometimes it feels like whenever the world goes to shit, I'm the only one who is there, and I plan to stay there, okay?!"

He finishes his rant breathing a little heavier than usual and noticing that a few of the lights in the trailers have turned on around them. He looks around and awkwardly nods to the people glaring out their windows. God, he needs to get a grip.

When he turns back to Eddie, he notices the conflicted expression, jaw dropped, eyebrows knitted together, eyes searching him as if he's still wondering if he's lying.

A door creaks open behind them and Steve curses under his breath as he hears Max say, "Eddie, leave him alone. Do you really think I would hook up with my damn babysitter? Jeez."

"Language," Steve quietly lectures as the door swings shut. He runs his hands over his face and takes a deep breath. It's been a long fucking day.

A hand lands on his arm and tugs him away from Max's trailer. Steve glances up at Eddie, leading him across the way. "Where are we going?"

"My place," Eddie says.

"Why?"

"So we can talk."

God, the last thing he wants to do is talk to Eddie of all people, the guy he's been actively avoiding since Dustin started worshipping the ground - or rather tables - he walks on. But he lets himself be pulled away in the trailer and practically deposited on the couch in the living room.

He glances up and comments, "That's a lot of mugs."

"My uncle's, but that's not what I wanted to... Christ," Eddie says, pacing in front of Steve and tugging his hair in front of his face. The anxious display makes Steve feel even more tired, but he lets him pace. God, what is he even doing here?

"I'm sorry," Eddie blurts out. "I'm just..." he trails off and rushes over to grab a stool a few feet away before dragging it in front of the couch. He sits on it but his leg still holds that nervous energy as it rapidly bounces up and down. "I jumped to conclusions, and it was really shitty of me, man. I just... didn't believe what Henderson was saying about you and thought 'Oh, this makes way more sense than Steve Harrington being a good dude.' And I'm sorry to accuse you of that. And I... I didn't know about your... parents and stuff. Like I knew they were away a lot because of your parties but... I just never connected the dots. And I'm sorry. No one deserves that shit, man."

Steve doesn't know what to do this whole interaction, especially with it coming from Eddie Munson who he doesn't think he's ever talked to before this moment, but... he needs to hear it. God, he needs to hear it.

Of course, he can't let him know this, so he does what he's best at and brushes it off. "It's fine. You were just looking out for the kids. And really just ignore what I said back there, it isn't that big of a deal."

Eddie worries his bottom lip before he blurts out, "I know what it's like." He pauses and takes a deep breath. "I mean, I know what it's like to have... absent parents. But in my case, eventually, my uncle Wayne took me in, and I can only imagine if he didn't." He gives him a pointed look and lowers his voice, "Do you have someone like that?"

A big part of Steve wants to leave right now, and he knows there's nothing stopping him. But a bigger part of him needs to stay. Needs to talk about the emptiness in his house that he can never truly escape at the end of the day that he can’t talk to anyone about. Because he's not supposed to be weak. He's supposed to take care of the others. So he admits, "No, I don't have... anyone like that. Except Robin but..."

"That's different," Eddie finishes the thought for him.

Steve nods. He loves Robin, but he loves her as a platonic soulmate and not as a parent figure in his life. "You know, I once had this basketball coach in middle school - Mr. Weston. And I remember looking up to him so much. I wanted to be just like him, and I would go to his office during lunch and ask him for advice or talk about dumb shit that my father would never talk about. But he never shamed me for my questions. And sometimes he even packed an extra dessert for me." Steve smiles at the memories and runs a hand through his hair, remembering the day he got the news. "But one time, when I went to his office, he had this look on his face. And I just knew it was bad news. And really, it wasn't bad news to him because his wife was pregnant. But she wanted to move a few states away to raise the kid closer to her family. And it wasn't his fault, you know? It wasn't like he purposely chose to move away from me, but I felt like I was abandoned again."

Steve wipes a tear from his eye and puts his head in his hands. "God, I don't know why I'm even telling you this story. Sorry."

"Don't apologize," Eddie says quickly. He pauses and shifts on the stool, his gaze being far away. "I remember him. He was one of the only gym teachers that defended me against all the shitty middle school bullies. He was a good person.”

Steve nods. God, he was a good person.

Eddie continues, “I'm sorry that he left. And I bet he still regrets leaving you behind."

Steve leans back against the couch and looks away, shaking his head. "I bet he forgot about me."

"You're kind of hard to forget."

Steve looks at Eddie and sees a slight blush on his cheeks as he shakes his head and waves his hands as if trying to make the comment go away. "What I mean is that there's no way he's forgotten about you. Someone who you used to have lunch with all the time to the point of giving you free food... Nah, man. He remembers you. I think you may have been as important to him as he was to you."

The thought breaks away at a wall Steve had built up long ago. "Thanks," he practically whispers.

Eddie just smiles at him, small dimples appearing on his cheeks.

"You didn't deserve it either, you know," Steve says. "The absent parent stuff. Even with Wayne, they should've been here too."

Eddie's smile falters a bit as he swallows and looks at the ground. "Thanks," he mumbles. He looks up at Steve and comments, "Getting sappy with Steve Harrington. Who knew."

"Yeah, getting sappy with Eddie Munson," Steve echoes back at him.

Eddie laughs, "I'm surprised you even know my name."

"You're kind of hard to forget," Steve says easily.

That same blush comes back to Eddie who shifts in his chair a bit as if he needs to process the information with his whole body.

They sit in the moment for a bit before Eddie gets a somewhat serious look on his face and offers, "You know, I'm definitely not a parent figure or anything, but I'm always here and around to talk about that whole thing if you need to."

Steve's heart beats a little faster at the sheer genuineness. "Same here," he can't help but offer in return. He glances down at his watch and sighs, "It's getting late, so I better..."

"Right," Eddie says, standing up and leading him to the door. "Do you need water for the road or anything?"

Steve smiles and pats him on the back without thinking too hard about it. "I'm good, man. But thank you. For everything really."

"Sorry for being an asshole," Eddie apologizes again.

"Usually that's my line," Steve accidentally voices before cringing a bit, wondering further why Eddie's been so kind to him.

But as he opens the door, Eddie comments, "I don't know. It seems like Dustin was right about the whole reformed jock thing. Maybe your crown really has fallen - which is a good thing by the way."

Steve slightly smiles at him before he turns to leave. But he can't help but say, "I wonder what the neighbors will think about me leaving your trailer so late."

Eddie groans then laughs. "Sorry to ruin your image."

"I wouldn't mind," Steve replies, honestly unsure what he means by that. "Goodnight, Eddie."

"Goodnight, Steve," Eddie says, that same blush on his cheeks, only this time Steve isn't sure if it's something he said or a result of the cold night air.

In bed that night, Steve feels a slight weight lifted from him and can't help but feel like he’s a little less alone.

[ladykailitha]

Icarus Part 24

So, it pains me to say that there is only one more chapter after this. Yep. Just the one. But I have an epilogue all written up and a sequel partially written up. So you won't have dwell in sadness for long.

In this we have a wild Dustin appearing, Ellie be awesome, another asshole reporter shows up, and Gareth and Eddie finally have it out.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23

~

The Fallen were holed up in their trailer, Ellie showing off her fix for the hoods. She held up a small fan and battery pack.

“Since the hoods cover most of the neck,” she explained, “this will go on a collar that you can turn on and off, and even change the speed. This will help keep you cool so you don’t faint again.”

Spence took the fan from her. “That’s genius. How did you come up with that?”

“I convinced my dad to go as the Red Guardian with me to New York Comic Con a couple of years ago. I was dressed as Yelena from ‘Black Widow’ ,” she said with a grin. “But as you guys know leather is hot so we put a couple of these bad boys in the neck of the costume to keep him cool.”

“That’s amazing,” Shane breathed. “I mean the fans are neat, too, I guess.”

She giggled. “The blonde wig I wore wasn’t very fun, but the rest of it was.”

“Thanks, Ellie,” Steve said. “How long will it take you put them together for us?”

She cocked her head to the side. “About twenty minutes.”

They piled out of the trailer to find Dustin arguing with Eddie.

“I keep telling you,” Eddie huffed. “I don’t know who they are and even if I did, I wouldn’t tell you! I don’t even know how you got past security in the first place.”

“I showed them pictures of us from your Instagram.”

Eddie pressed his fingers into his eye in frustration. “Dustin...” he said warningly. “You can’t do that.”

“I just did,” he said smugly, crossing his arms and grinning at him.

“You are such a butthead,” Steve groused. “How are you even here in the first place? Don’t you have school?”

Dustin shrugged. “You’re touring in California right now, it’s not that hard to drive up here for the weekend.”

“Dustin,” Steve said, pinching the side of his nose. “It’s Tuesday!”

He pulled out his phone and looked at the date. “Huh. Oops.” He put it away. “Well, I’m here now. No use crying over spilled milk.”

Eddie surged forward to strangle him, but Steve stopped him.

“Why are you here?” Steve asked sternly.

Dustin’s shoulders slumped. “All right, I was feeling a little lonely. Mike and Will graduated last year and they moved back to Hawkins to figure out where they want to go from there. And Lucas and Max are on the other side of the country. I missed you guys.”

Eddie and Steve shared a glance over his head and sighed.

“I know, bud,” Steve murmured, putting his arm around him, “but you’ve got school if you want to make it into MIT.”

Dustin sighed. He was a late bloomer, college wise, because it took a lot of convincing Mrs. Henderson to let him go. She was really worried about him on his own. It wasn’t until Steve moved out to California that she was willing to let him go.

“It was a dumb idea,” he admitted. “I just wanted to see you guys.”

Just then the trailer door opened and Ellie stepped out. Dustin’s jaw dropped. Eddie lifted his his chin with his finger.

“Oh hey, Steve,” she said, “I have the cooling collars for the band, can you make sure they get them before they go on tonight?” She held out the four devices and Steve took them.

“I sure will,” he replied. “Dustin this Ellie Hopper, she designed The Fallen’s costumes this year and her dad is head of security.”

Dustin reached out to shake her hand which she took with a small smile.

“Ellie,” Steve continued, “this Dustin Henderson. I used to watch him and his friends when they were snot-nosed kids.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Dustin said with his winning smile.

“Same.”

“I was just about to bug these two into lunch,” Dustin said. “Care to join us?”

Steve and Eddie glared at him.

“I’d love to!” Ellie said brightly.

And now Eddie and Steve were caught. They had to go now, because it’d be rude to turn down the person that made the costumes for The Fallen.

So they all went out to lunch, but they had to be back for the sound checks.

“I don’t know hwy you have to be there,” Dustin whined. “You’re only a medic, it’s not as though you’re a rockstar, too.”

“Because I’m the medic for the band,” Steve huffed. “If something goes wrong at the sound check I have to be there.”

“Can we watch the sound check together?” he asked hopefully.

“Why don’t you take Ellie around,” Eddie suggested. “She’s never been this far north in Cali.”

Ellie immediately agreed and Eddie and Steve breathed a sigh of relief.

As they were walking off, Eddie got a text message and he grinned, hurriedly typing back.

“You cheating on your lover over there, Munson,” Steve teased.

Eddie threw back his head and laughed. “It’s just Chrissy. You know, the lesbian?”

Steve grinned wolfishly as they got into the car that would take them back to the venue.

~

A week later Corroded Coffin were doing their own press conference when some reporter from a gossip rag dropped a bombshell.

“A question for Eddie Munson.”

“Shoot.”

“What do you say to the rumors that you have a secret lover on this tour?”

The room went dead silent except the clicking of camera shutters going off.

“Do you want to repeat that?” Jeff growled into his mic.

She repeated the question with a smug expression.

“I wasn’t aware there was one,” Eddie hedged. “And all questions about my sex life are off limits.”

“Are you worried that with your past exploits on previous tours that this man will be labeled as just another notch in your bedpost and you’re trying to protect him from that?” she continued as if she hadn’t heard him.

“You heard the man,” Brian hissed. “He doesn’t want to talk about his sex life.”

“What about the rumors that you are fucking the frontman to The Fallen?” she asked a little louder as the other reporters started shouting their own questions.

“Unless your sucking my dick, you don’t get to know about my sex life!” Eddie snapped. He stood up and walked out.

Chrissy walked up to the front of the room, putting herself between the other band members and the now pressing throng of reporters.

“This press conference is now over.”

The woman who had started it all, crossed her legs and smirked at the chaos all around her.

~

Steve watched the YouTube video of the press conference over and over. Those same forty-seven seconds over and over again.

Who was the leak? Who told? Was it just speculation because that’s how Eddie usually played it on tours? Or was it something more sinister?

He decided if nothing else, he should at least go check on Eddie to see how he was doing.

He walked up to the door of Eddie’s hotel suite, but the door was partially ajar.

“Oh I get it now,” Eddie was saying. “The call is coming from inside the house.”

“You’re blaming me?!” Gareth cried.

“Oh yeah,” Eddie hissed. “This has you written all over it.”

“I’m on your side!”

“You’ve always been jealous of Steve,” Eddie snapped, “and now that we’re a couple, you couldn’t take it and went to the press.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Gareth pleaded. “I know said some fucked up things last year. But I’ve been in therapy for that shit and I know it’s unhealthy. I don’t know who leaked it to the press, but it wasn’t me.” There was a brief pause. “Here, check my phone. I wouldn’t do that to you.”

There was silence for a long, tense moment so Steve took the liberty of the pause to knock on the door.

Chrissy went to go open it and saw Steve. With a single look she knew he’d overheard at least some their exchange. She winced and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry’.

“Come on in, Steve,” she said, opening the door wide enough to let him in. “Vickie’s on her way and will be here in about twenty minutes.”

Steve nodded and walked up to Eddie. “Hey,” he asked leaning down to look him in the eye, “are you okay?”

Eddie’s lips quivered as he nodded. He was still going through all of Gareth’s messages, DMs, and social media posts.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered to Gareth.

Gareth hugged him fiercely and Eddie hugged back. Soon they were both crying.

“I’m sorry I blamed Steve for everything wrong in the band,” Gareth murmured. “I was just scared he’d take you away from me.”

Steve snorted. “Dude, I would need a fucking crowbar to remove Eddie from you guys’ lives. He loves you like brothers. I’m not here to get in the way of that. Okay?”

“Yeah, man,” Brian said, “families grow and change, that doesn’t mean we don’t still love each other.”

Gareth nodded into Eddie’s neck.

“And I’m sorry I accused you without evidence,” he muttered back, “Uncle Wayne would kick my ass if he found out I did that.”

“I won’t tell,” Gareth said softly, “if you won’t.”

“Deal.”

They stood like that for awhile, just holding each other and muttering apologies.

Vickie came barreling into the room like a bull in a china shop.

“Fucking hell!” she growled and threw herself onto the sofa like a Victorian maiden. “That was such bullshit.”

They all turned to her, Chrissy closing the door tightly behind her to make sure no one in the hall could hear them.

“It was a completely unsubstantiated comment said off the cuff in the same vein as ‘I’ll kill you for that’,” she moaned, rolling over and putting her hand on her forehead.

“I’m not sure I understand,” Eddie said, “what was said?”

Vickie sat up drew her knees to her chest. “Someone overheard Steve teasing Eddie about cheating on his lover.”

Eddie and Steve looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Seriously?” Brian huffed. “That’s it? God. People must be hard up for news if that’s all it takes.”

“The reporter’s name was Heather Halloway,” she continued. “She works for the same gossip rag as the guy who brought up the spelling of Abbadon’s name in their press conference. His name was Billy Hargrove. He also has some conspiracy podcast he does that she’ll sometimes feature on. A regular Bonnie and Clyde.”

“So she was just trying to rile Eddie up to get a reaction?” Jeff asked.

Vickie nodded. “Which unfortunately worked.”

Eddie grimaced and scratched the back of his neck. “Sorry.”

“You’re only human,” Vickie said with a half shrug. “I’ll get out ahead of this and like with what happened with Steve, just call all your friends ‘lover’. Make it as uncomfortable for them as possible. Turn it around and throw it their faces.”

“In other words, ‘let Eddie be Eddie’?” Gareth asked.

Vickie grinned. “Perfect. Let Eddie be Eddie.”

Eddie blushed and shoved his hair in front of his face to hide his bashful smile. “Thanks, guys.”

“Now get out of here so I can cuddle with my boyfriend,” Steve huffed, making shooing motions with his hands.

Everyone laughed and they all shuffled out of the room.

Well all but Gareth. He held out his fist.

“We good?” he asked shyly.

Both Steve and Eddie fist bumped him.

“Not yet,” Eddie said softly. “But we’re getting there.”

Gareth smiled and slipped out of the room. A single step forward was better than a step back. They’d get there. They had the time now.

As soon as Gareth left, Eddie turned to Steve. “Cuddling, huh?”

Steve advanced on him like a tiger seeking his prey. “As I understand it, unless they’re sucking your dick they don’t get to know your sex life.”

Eddie’s tongue dragged slowly over his teeth, his drooping seductively. “I did say that, yeah.”

Steve started pushing him back to the bed. When they reached it, he pushed him on the bed and then began crawling up Eddie’s body.

“And since I’m the only one who gets to suck your dick,” he purred, “I wasn’t going to tell them shit.”

Eddie smirked. “You’re a bitch, Stevie. But you’re my bitch and I’m going to fuck you into this mattress.”

“Hmm,” Steve hummed. “Bring it on.”

~

Part 25

Tag List: CLOSED

1- @mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 ​@a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence

3- @goodolefashionedloverboi @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @blondie1006

4- @yikes-a-bee @bookworm0690 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten

5- @genderless-spoon @y4r3luv @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt

6- @disrespectedgoatman @eyehartart @dawners @thespaceantwhowrites @tinyplanet95

7- @iamthehybrid @croatoan-like-its-hot @papergrenade @cryptid-system @counting-dollars-counting-stars

8- @ravenfrog @w1ll0wtr33 @child-of-cthulhu @kultiras @dreamercec

9- @machete-inventory-manager @useless-nb-bisexual @stripey82 @dotdot-wierdlife @kal-ology

10- @sadisticaltarts @urkadop @chameleonhair @clockworkballerina @garden-of-gay

[sheifflucashood]

starter (tower life )

Lucas Hood was new to the tower and their way of life. He knew he had to do his job, so he decided to look at the setup of their system. With the help of Job, he wanted to keep the tower safe from harm. Job found a lot of weakness in their computer mainframe and fixed it so it wouldn't be hacked. As Hood made his way around the other part of the tower, there wasn't anyone around. It was oldy quiet.

he wasn't used to the quiet something was gonna happen and he needed to be ready

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

The Truth of the Matter

A/N: Warning dirty talk and misunderstandings of a certain word.

Summary: One day, Eddie, Dustin, Lucas, and Mike decide to summon a fairy. . .it's Steve Harrington. Chaos ensues. Pre-season 4, pre-Steddie.

Eddie pouted as he sat down on his throne. He was really looking forward to playing tonight, but Gareth, Jeff, and Frankie were all out sick. They had all gotten mono, which is what they get for practicing kissing. Gareth immediately yelled at him for that comment. Apparently, that's not what happened. Eddie was cackling to himself when the door opened. Dustin, Mike, and Lucas all filtered in talking excitedly.

"Hey, buttheads, did you not get the memo? Hellfire has been canceled," Eddie said.

"We thought you were joking," Dustin said.

"You never cancel Hellfire for anything," Lucas frowned.

"Well, Jeff, Gareth, and Frankie are all out sick with the kissing disease," Eddie said.

"Oh, that's right, they weren't at lunch," Mike said.

"Well, now what?" Lucas asked.

"You boys want to perform a spell?" Eddie said. "I found this cool little book at a Flea Market. Want to try it?"

Mike, Lucas, and Dustin all shared weary looks.

"Uh. . . "

"What? Don't be a bunch of chicken shits. Nothing is going to happen. It's just for fun," Eddie said. "What could possibly go wrong?"

"Of course, nothing is going to happen," Dustin said laughing. "That would he crazy."

"You're laughing a little hard there, Henderson," Eddie said. "It's not like I'm going to accidentally open a portal to hell."

Now, it was Lucas, Dustin, and Mike all laughing rather loudly. Eddie gave them all strange looks.

"Robes!" Eddie exclaimed, clapping his hands.

"We have those?" Lucas asked, and Eddie just cackled.

Several moments later, they lowered the lights and slipped on robes that covered their faces. Lit candles were scattered around them as Eddie opened a leather bound book in front of them.

"Why in the fuck did I get stuck with the pink robe?" Mike asked. "Why are all the others black and this one is pink?"

"You were too slow, Mike. Now, hush," Dustin said.

"What are we summoning?" Lucas asked.

"A fairy," Eddie replied.

"Why a fairy?" He asked.

"Well, according to this book, fairies have extraordinary healing abilities, bring you good luck, and have the ability to shield you from harm," Eddie said. "Sounds cool although, sometimes they have shitty luck themselves, so I don't know how that works."

"It also says they're loneliest creatures on the planet because they're wildly misunderstood," Dustin read over his shoulder. "Rather than harming children like some think, these creatures do everything in their power to protect them from harm. Most of the time, it is because they themselves were stolen in the night as children to be used by human greed. Aw, why didn't you say you just wanted to summon a lonely fairy who protects children?"

"Shut it, Henderson," Eddie said.

"And you're sure they won't be able to see our faces?" Dustin asked, and Eddie gave him a look. "Right. Shutting up."

Eddie began speaking and used his deep dungeon master voice as he said the spell. After the entire spell was done, they waited. . . and waited. . . Finally, a huge gust of wind swirled around them, the flames grew large, and the lights flickered behind them. Suddenly, a figure was falling in the middle of their circle with a loud thud.

"I was on a fucking ladder! What the fuck!" Steve’s voice yelled. "Oh, there's the light bulb. Huh, it didn't break."

Steve flopped onto his back and screamed at the sight of hooded figures surrounding him. Surprised voices whispered excitedly as they looked down on him. Steve furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the sight of the bright pink one.

"Do not be afraid, Steve Harrington," a deep voice spoke. "We mean you no harm."

"What the fuck do you want from me?" Steve asked. "How did you even bring me here?"

"Magic. . .tell us your deepest, darkest secrets," the voice said.

"Fuck. Fuck! Okay! Okay! I, uh, like blue and yellow, but what everyone doesn't know, besides Robin, is that I like the color pink," Steve said.

"Interesting, but not what we're looking for," the voice said.

"I always wanted a little brother, but it wasn't until the kids I babysit came into my life that I finally got the siblings I always wanted, and I think if anyone of them died, I would die," Steve said.

"Aw," a familiar voice said softly and sniffled.

"That's . . . Really fucking sweet but no, not what I'm looking for," the voice said.

"Okay, okay. . .Robin's like my best friend in the world, my platonic soulmate, but I lied to her. She asked me if I was still in love with Nancy Wheeler, and I lied, I think I always will be. I just didn't want to seem so pathetic because I know it's over," Steve said. "Is that it?"

"Uh. . .warmer. . ."

"I once had a sex dream where I was with Jonathan and Nancy, but I never told anyone because I thought it would be weird."

"What the fu - "

"Quiet," the deep voice said. "That isn't what I'm looking for, but, uh, close."

"Okay, I once got my dick sucked at a party by a guy, and it led me to a lot of realizations. . ." Steve trailed off.

"OKAY. . .mi'lord, I do not think this man knows that he is a fairy," one of the figures said.

"HEY! That is a really offensive term. I'm bisexual," Steve replied. "Sacrifice me all you want but respect my sexuality please. Although I once used a rude term, I didn't know about myself at the time. Do you want to talk before you kill me?"

"You're, uh, surprisingly calm now," the deep voice said. "For someone who thinks we're going to kill them."

"Well, it's happened too many times now," Steve shrugged. "Is that what you wanted to know?"

". . .no."

"Well, I wish I was a woman sometimes. . .mostly because I wish I could go through the birthing process. . . I don't think my parents are my real parents. . . I once let Robin touch my dick because she wanted to know what it felt like. . . It was weird for both of us. . .sometimes I think about getting on my knees for Eddie Munson and - "

"OOKAY! STEVE, STOP SPILLING YOUR DEEP DARK SECRETS! I ACCEPT YOU FOR ALL OF IT BUT SOME THINGS SHOULD REMAIN A MYSTERY!"

"Let him speak!" The deep voice said.

"Stop with the sexual ones, at least!"

"Okay. . .um, it makes me really happy to know that I have a hobby to share with one of my kids. I mean, at least one of them, you know, understands why I like basketball so much. I love all of my kids, and I really wish I could play D&D, but I'm not great at math. I don't want to look more stupid in front of them. More importantly, I could be doing anything with them, and I still feel less alone knowing they want me to be around them. . . Even if they're being shitheads. I love it though, when they bitch at me. They're my family, and I've never really felt like I had that until they came along," Steve said. "Robin, too. She's my family too."

Suddenly, all Steve could hear was the sound of them sniffling, and they dropped to their knees around him. They dropped their hoods, revealing Mike, Dustin, and Lucas. They all hugged him tightly.

"What the fuck?" Steve asked.

"We'll explain it all later," Dustin sniffled. "Just know that we love you too."

"Oh, you're also adopted," Mike muttered.

"He wasn't adopted! He was kidnapped!" Lucas exclaimed.

"Oh, right."

The other person dropped their hood, revealing Eddie Munson.

"So, what was that thing you wanted to do with Eddie?" He asked with a smirk.

Suddenly, the doors burst open and Robin came running in, breathing heavily.

"Guys! Steve was changing the light bulb in Family Video, and he just disappeared - oh, hey, Steve! Steve! What the fuck's going on?!" Robin asked.

"Robin, guess what?!" Mike asked. "Steve’s a fucking fairy!"

"No! Robin, don't punch Mike! That's not what he meant!"

Mike screamed.

Part Two

[lycans-art-kingdom]

For the QnA, what was the biggest inspiration for you to start making Laura & Lucas?

Obviously, werewolves were a big factor, but was there some media that inspired you to start creating art like this in the first place?

THIS FUCK. THIS FUCK RIGHT HERE.

HE is the BIGGEST inspiration for Lucas, because Lucas came from a Werehog gijinka I made when I a kid!!!

He eventually evolved and grew into his person into the asshole you all know and love today, but you can still see alot of the resemblence of the Werehog in him such as the eyes, the hair streak and even his clothing

His shorts in his Werewolf form are a subtle nod to Dark Gaia and his Energy!

For Laura, it also comes from the Werehog because she started out as a Sonic OC that I would ship with the Werehog, which eventually became her own human self with a much different outfit and personality!

So if you wanna thank anything for bringing my blorbos to life, thank Sonic Unleashed! <3

[fizzyxcustard]

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let’s spread the self-love ❤️

Mmmm! This is such a good question.

1) Wrong Place Wrong Time (both parts) - this fic was so fun to write and introduced me to the world of Raymond de Merville. I think the fact I was also deployed at Heathrow Airport on Border Force while I wrote this, made it a really unforgettable writing experience. (Pilgrimage. Raymond x Fem!Reader)

2) A Rose at Twilight - this was being written at a hard time in my life. I was on an SSRI medication and my writing became a huge lifeline. (The Hobbit. Thorin x Fem!Reader)

3) Covert Eyes - I love writing an OC, and the spy world is unlike anything I’ve written before. (Spooks. Lucas North x OC)

4) Anything is Possible - Guy of Gisborne and lots of angst, while going up against impossible odds. Need I say more? Lol! (Robin Hood. Guy of Gisborne x Fem!Reader)

5) The Right Thing - My first fic back into the world of seaQuest. So fun to write from a nostalgia perspective. (seaQuest DSV/2032. Lucas Wolenczak x Fem!Reader)

Anyone reading this! Please do have a go yourself. I’m not tagging anyone; you’re all welcome to do this.

(All fics can be found on my masterlist which is pinned at the top of my blog)

[fluentmoviequoter]

Two of Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: When Hondo asks you to help catch a car thief, you meet Jim Street. As you get to know one another, you learn that you have a lot in common, but balance each other out perfectly.

Warnings: r loves cars/owns an auto shop & is sarcastic and makes jokes (very similar to Street), mentions of robbery and murder, fluff, softie Street

Word Count: 4.7k+ words

A/N: There's so many things I love about this request and a ton of (personal) references! I hope you all enjoy!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Someone wolf whistles as the garage door opens, and you walk faster to see what is worthy of such attention. When you step into the garage if your auto restoration shop, your jaw drops.

“Is that a ’59 Impala?” you ask breathlessly.

“Sure is,” Joel, your righthand man and drivetrain expert, answers. “She’s here for a tune-up. I know you’re busy, boss, so I can handle this one.”

“Yeah, right!” you exclaim. “All of my childhood dreams are under that hood.”

“You dreamt about reconstructed motors as a kid?”

“Do you talk to your wife like this, Joel? Because she’s never going to let you buy a C-10 with that attitude.”

He chuckles before he waves toward the office. “Impala owner is in there. Wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Joel. Don’t start without me!” you call over your shoulder.

As you enter the lobby, you put on your best customer service smile and straighten your shirt.

“Good afternoon,” you greet. “You must be the owner of that beautiful Impala.”

“Yes, ma’am. My friend Rick Castle told me that you were the person to see. I had the car restored by a guy in Texas, a ground-up rebuild, but it’s not riding as smoothly as it was before. The passenger side – sorry, I’m not very good at explaining these things – it almost feels like it’s bouncing while I drive,” he explains.

“Okay, that’s really helpful. It sounds like it’s probably an alignment issue. We can look at it today and give you a call when we find the issue,” you suggest.

“That would be great. Thank you.”

You review the paperwork he completed with Joel quickly before telling him bye. After putting his contact information into your computer system, you rush back to the garage.

“Let’s find out what’s causing the involuntary hydraulics,” you tell Joel.

“Hondo, get 20 squad in here!” Hicks calls.

As they gather in the situation room, Lieutenant Lynch queues a video pulled from a security camera. Street recognizes the location as the building they raided a few days earlier but remains quiet as she begins speaking.

“This is, of course, the building you raided. If you’ll recall, we hoped to locate an unidentified subject tied to several car robberies, assaults, and more recently, carjacking with deadly force. He killed a driver during a carjacking gone wrong and has continued to get more violent with each crime. We still haven’t identified the perp, courtesy of his never-ending vehicle supply and seeming knowledge of traffic cams. He didn’t seem to think about the security camera across the street from the parking garage before the raid, however.”

She presses a button on the tablet in her hand, and the video begins to play. Several cars come and go, but there’s nothing unusual. Hicks raises his hand to point to the time stamp, and the guys watch, waiting for some smoking gun or clear picture of the guy running from the cops. All that happens, though, is a man leaving in a convertible. Lynch pauses the video again and looks up expectantly.

“Was that a Triumph?” Luca asks excitedly. “Those are still rare in the states, even decades after they stopped manufacturing them.”

“It’s not stock,” Street adds with a shake of his head. “That’s not standard suspension, and the paint is too new to be original. Whoever brought that over had a lot of work done to it.”

“Which is great, makes it easier to find,” Hicks agrees. “Except there’s no plates, no registration, and no one has reported it missing. There’s not even a T3 in that color registered to anyone through the California DMV. We have something to look for, but no more information on who we’re looking for.”

“I know someone who can help,” Hondo says. “Classic cars, new paint, rebuilds…”

“You have a car guy?” Deacon asks. “Why?”

“Of course, I have a car guy,” Hondo scoffs. “My dad may have introduced me.”

“That makes more sense,” Luca says, nodding with Deacon.

“Hold on, guys,” Lynch calls. “The tech team thinks they may have found another lead. Consensus is this video is the same driver.”

She plays a new video, this one taken from a gas station camera. Another newer sports car pulls in, but no one exits the car. It sits for nearly three minutes, then pulls out.

“I’m not as versed as these guys, but that looks like a Lamborghini,” Tan comments. “Can’t be too hard to trace those in Los Angeles.”

“It is when they don’t have the original drivetrain. The back tires spun out way too far in that turn. It’s been modified, too,” Luca points out.

“He’s either got a thing for modified sports cars or he’s someone who’s flipping them to be completely different cars after he steals them,” Street hypothesizes.

“Your car guy gonna be able to help with that?” Hicks asks Hondo.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers. “This case’ll be closed in a week.”

“Then get out of here. You’ve got a rare car to track down.”

“One more thing,” Lynch says. “Really, I promise this is the last thing. None of those cars have been seen again. Seems like he drives them once and then ditches them.”

“He has to have his own garage, then,” Street says. “One that I wish I had.”

“Then it’s a bigger target,” Hondo declares. “Let’s roll.”

The chime connected to the front door of your shop rings loudly and you tell Joel to go check on the customer. You are under a 1977 Chevrolet Nova and elbow-deep in the engine bay. Even if you’d wanted to be the first face they saw, given that it is your business, you wouldn’t be able to get out from under the car before they assumed no one was here.

“Ah ha,” you murmur.

You pull the broken mounting bracket down past the ballast. It falls to the floor with a loud ting before you roll out from under the car. As you sit up and wipe your grease-covered hands on your coveralls, you see Hondo looking at you with his brows raised.

“Hello,” you greet.

“You got a little something right… everywhere,” he jokes.

“Funny,” you reply as you stand. “If your eyesight is that good, it’s no wonder you made SWAT.”

Someone laughs behind him, and you lean to the side. His entire squad waits in the lobby, and you wave before returning your attention to Hondo.

“I take it you’re not here about your dad’s car then,” you muse.

“Not today. We need some help with a case, if you have the time,” he explains.

“Sure. I’ll have Joel take you to my office. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you – all of you, I guess – in there in a minute.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You owe me an entire car at this point, Hondo,” you call as you walk out of the garage.

Once you’re out of your stained overalls and have washed all of the grease and car-related grime off of your skin, you return to your office. Hondo and three other men wait beside your desk, and you invite them to sit. Hondo introduces you to Tan, Luca, and Street, and you shake each of their hands before you sit across from them. Hondo rolls his eyes when you smile at Street, but you’re not sure why.

“So, what exactly does Metro SWAT need from an auto shop?” you ask.

“Long story short, there’s a guy stealing sports cars; classics, fresh off the floor, and everything in between. Then he’s customizing them, driving them once, and ditching them for a new illegally obtained ride,” Hondo answers.

You nod as you think, then lean on your elbows on your desk. “Why customize them?”

“To make them untraceable, we think,” Luca answers. “You can’t report a car missing if it doesn’t exist anymore.”

“That tracks,” you agree. “But then the question becomes, how do you ditch them? You can’t leave something like that at a chop shop, the parts would bring more issues.”

“Private garage,” Street says. “Or maybe he’s selling them out of the county. Lots of possibilities.”

“It takes an incredibly rich, incredibly dumb person to treat cars like that,” you comment.

“We deal with criminals,” Hondo interrupts. “Rich and dumb is kind of our thing.”

“No, Hondo, cars aren’t like people. They fight back, they don’t just disappear without a trace.”

“She’s right,” Street adds. “These cars are more than property to be stolen.”

“What are you saying?” Hondo asks.

“Ever read Christine?” you joke.

“Or heard of Decepticons?” Street adds.

You smile at him again, and he nods before he winks quickly.

“So, can you help us or not?” Hondo inquires.

“Yeah, of course. What do you need me to do?”

“We’ve got some security cam footage of the cars he’s altered. We need to know where he’s getting the work done, or info on where a private garage big enough for a collection like this would be.”

“I’d be happy to look. I can’t promise anything, though. My clientele is more of the rebuild this classic or fix this issue not the I want to make a rare sports car even more unique off the books.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Hondo looks at his phone quickly and huffs. “Uh, Street, you stay and go over the videos with her. Deac said he and Chris need backup.”

“You got it,” Street answers.

Hondo thanks you quickly before he, Luca, and Tan leave. You’re left alone in your office with Street and aren’t sure how to start a conversation after joking together while Hondo filled you in on the case.

“Uh, here’s the videos. There’s only a few on this, but it should be enough to get an idea of what he’s doing,” Street says as he passes you a memory stick.

You take it from him and insert it into your computer. As the videos begin playing, you rewind it, pause it, and take a few notes. The cars in it don’t have anything in common, other than the fact that they’re stolen and modified.

“Well, I can say for sure that my guys didn’t do this work. Nobody I work with did, either. I’ll ask around and see what I can find,” you tell Street.

“I appreciate that,” he replies. “You know, when Hondo said he had a car guy, I was expecting…”

“A guy?” you guess.

“I mean, yeah. Middle-aged, beer belly, his name on the sign. The usual.”

“Sounds like my shapewear is doing its job if you don’t see a beer belly,” you joke.

“Please, you know how pretty you are,” Street replies.

“Seems like you think so.”

You lean forward and smile as you return the video drive to Street. He returns your smile and opens his mouth, likely to make another joke, before Joel knocks on the door.

“We’ve got another customer, boss. With a ’73 Corolla,” he informs.

“Excellent timing,” you mumble.

Street stands as you do and says, “Call Hondo, or me, whoever, if you find anything. Thanks for helping.”

“I will. Thanks, Street.”

He leaves through the lobby, and you take a deep breath. Joel smiles as he watches you, but you tell him to get back to work before he can comment.

“On what?” he yells behind you.

“Hondo, we’re not even doing anything,” Street groans in HQ the following morning. “Just let me go make sure she doesn’t need help or anything!”

“She knows more about cars than you do,” Hondo answers.

“That’s not what I mean. C’mon, man, she has an auto shop. Are you really going to make me sit here when I could be solving a case in my dream garage?”

“Hondo!” Deacon calls. “We’ve got another video. New car this time, but it doesn’t look modified.”

Street looks toward Hondo expectantly, and nearly cheers when Hondo sighs and tells him to go. He accepts the video and rushes to his motorcycle. Work will be more fun with you, he thinks.

“You’re back,” you say when Street walks into the garage.

“And you’re working on a 1960s Mustang,” he says dreamily.

“1964,” you tell him. “Want to take a look?”

“I’m supposed to be working. We have a new video with a different car.”

“Surely it can wait a few seconds, so you can look at the new 289 sitting pretty under the hood.”

“Yeah, we can wait,” Street agrees as he follows you to the hood of the car.

After Street takes a few minutes to admire the work you’ve done on the Mustang, you lead him to your office and bring up the new video.

“I haven’t seen it, but the people in the lab didn’t think it had been modified,” Street explains.

“Okay. Let’s see,” you say, turning the screen toward him.

Your shoulder presses against his arm as you watch, but you’re both too interested in the sports car on the screen to notice that you’re in shared space.

“I don’t see anything,” Street says.

You drag the video slowly and pause it when the wheels turn.

“That car shouldn’t be all-wheel drive. It’s a minor conversion compared to the other work you’ve shown me.”

“Who makes a Datsun 240z all-wheel drive?” Street murmurs.

“Who steals a Datsun 240z?” you counter. “They stopped making them for a reason. Short of a complete overhaul, they weren’t worth their weight in metal.”

“As right as you are, that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding this guy.”

“No,” you agree. “And none of my friends have heard anything. We’re getting the word out, though, so as soon as it reaches the right person, I’ll have more information for you. It’d be great if he decided to switch garages and was my next customer.”

“It would be easier.” Street leans back in the seat and looks at the pictures on your wall. “Best and worst customer to date, go,” he asks.

“Ooh, okay,” you say excitedly. “Best? A writer who lives up in the hills has brought me over 20 different rare classics to restore from the ground up. The worst was last week. Kid came in with a brand new, stock Lambo Huracan and wanted the double-clutch tranny switched out for a 4-speed automatic.”

“In a Huracan?” Street repeats incredulously. “I… I feel like I just aged twenty years.”

“Tell me about it. I asked him if he could drive it the way it was and never got an answer.”

“Did you do it?”

“Are you kidding? No! I’m in this business for the cars, and that’s just sacrilegious.”

Hondo knocks on your open door, and he’s leaning against it with his brows raised when you look up.

“There’s two of them!” he exclaims dramatically as he looks back at the rest of the guys. “I thought you and Street were bad enough separately, but this isn’t fair.”

“Can I help you Hondo?” you ask, ignoring his comment. Although, you don’t hate him viewing this as you and Street, together, as one.

“I just came to see if anything came of that video,” Hondo says.

“Nothing inherently helpful. Your smoking gun is still lost.”

“Keep looking,” Hondo requests, tapping his knuckles against the doorframe before he leads 20 squad away.

Street watches him leave, shakes his head, and turns back to you to ask, “How’d you get into cars?”

“My, uh, my home life wasn’t great growing up. Cars were my escape. From the time I was old enough to realize that walking out into the driveway to mess with the cars got me away from the fighting, I was out there constantly. Then it became a love for cars and everything they mean to people. This isn’t just my job, it’s my passion.”

“I lived in foster homes for too long,” Street says. “When I met my brother, Noah, he got me into motorcycles, which led to cars. We dreamed about getting a Ducati someday.”

“See? Cars mean something, they’re more than electronics and gas to get you from A to B. They’re life itself for some of us.”

“And you treat them like that. When I get that Ducati, I’ll bring it to you.”

“For what? Those are perfect as is.”

“Maybe it’ll just be an excuse to see you.”

You smile and shake your head, but you know that you’d welcome him in, anytime, with or without a Ducati.

“… And then after the toe, caster, and camber are matched up on both sides, we can move on to complete the diagnostics,” you finish.

“Okay,” the young girl says. “I need to call my dad really fast. Can I come back in and let you know after that?”

“Of course. Take your time.”

As she walks out, you notice Street standing in the doorway to the garage.

“That happen often?” he asks, gesturing toward the girl standing outside.

“Occasionally. Mostly with younger customers,” you answer. “Must be nice to have a parental relationship like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, what can I do for you, Officer Street?”

“Are you ever going to call me Jim?” he asks.

“I like cars, so Street is more fun,” you reply with a shrug.

“I actually came to give you a break. Hondo said you’ve been sending him updates day and night. You have to step back from it all before you burn out,” Street explains.

“I can’t. I have cars to finish, and some of my contacts have leads that seem promising, but they have to go through a chain of different garages, and…”

Street steps to you and lays his hands on your shoulders. He waits until you look into his eyes and relax to say, “You need a break. Trust me.”

“I need to finish with her,” you whisper. “Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” he agrees. “And then I’m dragging you out of here if you won’t go willingly.”

Five minutes later, you follow Street into the small customer parking area outside the lobby. He walks to a motorcycle, and you eye it in admiration.

“This is your bike? It’s gorgeous, Street,” you say, running your fingers over the smooth metal body.

“It’s fast too,” he replies.

You accept a helmet and put it on as he climbs onto the bike. The Cardo logo on the side of the helmet catches your attention, but as you sit behind him and wrap your arms around him, you’re more than happy to ride in silence and decompress.

When you get back to the garage, you climb off the bike and hug Street before he can swing his leg over.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I did need that.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” he jokes as he returns your hug.

“Neither am I. And you shift into fourth too soon. That’s why it revs harder.”

“I knew coming to see you would embarrass me eventually,” Street laments. “But at least you’re pretty and really close to me.”

“I can move,” you say against his shoulder.

“No, thanks. Not until I have to go back to work.”

His phone rings in his pocket and you laugh as he grumbles, “Hondo always has to ruin the moment.”

The phone on your desk rings again as you lower the new L1 engine into a C-10. You roll your eyes at the sound but refuse to answer it.

“Somebody else answer the phone!” you call. “I can’t answer another stupid question today!”

Joel salutes you as he walks through your open door. He returns a moment later with the cordless phone in his hand and smiles.

“It’s Street. Would you like me to pass along your message?”

You extend your cleaner hand and tuck the phone between your ear and shoulder to say, “Hey, Street.”

“Can you remove the hemi from my Charger?” he asks. “It’s too loud when I drive.”

“I will hang up on you,” you threaten.

The line beeps and you pull the phone from your ear with pinched brows.

“Not if I hang up on you first,” Street says from the doorway. “Which is rude, by the way.”

“Have more videos for me to watch?” you ask loudly as you lean into the engine bay of the truck.

“No, just wanted to drop by. Nice body… the truck, I mean.”

“Sure, you did.”

You grunt as you stand and pass a screwdriver to Street.

“I don’t work here.”

“Yet you’re here every day,” Joel says from inside the cab of the truck.

“Not my fault your boss freelances for my boss,” Street replies.

“I told Hondo this morning that I hadn’t heard anything,” you interrupt as you wipe your hands on a rag.

“I know. I just wanted to drop by. I got off early, so, here I am.”

“Hmm. I was hoping you’d say you were undercover or something.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to believe this is how you dress when you’re not in uniform,” you joke.

“You’re covered in-“

“I’m at work,” you defend. “Hazards of the job. And don’t bring up the fact that my laundry room smells like motor oil because you can’t prove that.”

Your phone buzzes on the workbench behind you, and you apologize as you walk past Street to get it. He watches your eyes widen as you press the screen a few times.

“Call Hondo,” you demand.

“But-“

“I know who your car thief is. He’s on his way here right now with the Triumph T3.”

“How? Why?” Street questions.

“The guy he hired to do the work thought they were really his cars. Apparently, my name came up and with the message about him going through the automotive grapevine, his former mechanic recommended me for a modification tune-up,” you explain quickly.

Hondo arrives less than ten minutes later with the rest of 20 Squad. He asks what is so urgent as he looks between you and Street, though there isn’t much room between you.

“He isn’t ditching the cars. He’s still driving the cars because the Triumph slid last night and now he’s bringing it here to be repaired,” you tell Hondo.

“Okay, it slid and he’s bringing in one stolen car. What does that mean for me? And no automotive speak,” Hondo replies.

“Could I interest you in the Cybertronian translation?”

“Tell me what my bad guy did.”

“If I can convince him to list every car he may want me to work on in the future, could you get a warrant? I’ll try to get an address and a name for him, though they may not be legitimate.”

“We can certainly try,” Deacon agrees. “But he doesn’t seem like the type that will answer questions.”

“I have a way of getting people to talk. Especially car people. Guys like him like to brag, so if I one him up, he won’t have a choice but to tell me what you need to know.”

“Just be careful,” Street says. “Don’t let him get so cocky he thinks he has to prove himself in any way except talking about cars.”

“I won’t. But you guys need to get out of sight. He’ll want to see the garage and get a feel for the security.”

“We can pretend to be security,” Street argues.

“Nah, you got a cop face, man,” Joel says from inside the truck.

“Joel, I’m going to marry your boss and ask her to fire you,” Street shoots back.

“I want to hear more about that later,” you interrupt. “But seriously, get out of sight.”

A few minutes later, a Triumph T3 stops outside of the lobby entrance. The man who enters looks like the driver in the security videos, but you have to get more information before anything else can happen.

“Hi,” you greet. “You must be the gentleman Josh told me about. He said you had a classic, but I was not expecting a ‘50s Triumph. That’s a gorgeous car, sir.”

“I appreciate it. She’s my baby, but the steering is a bit off since I hit a wet patch last night and the back end slid.”

“That sounds like a simple enough fix. If you can just fill out some information-“

“Josh said you’d do this off the books for me, like he has. Cash upfront.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you agree. “Go ahead and pull her into the garage.”

He nods and exits the front door. You sigh and move into the garage, planning how to get him to talk about the other cars he has stolen and where he keeps them.

“Nice facility,” he compliments as he enters your garage. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a couple incredibly rare classics that I work on often, and those customers deserve the best.”

“Rarer than a 1953 Triumph T3?” the man asks, defensive and growing insulted.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a Model T in here, several European cars, including a T2, plus modern sports cars.”

“I’ve got a garage full of classics that make those seem like Hot Wheels.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you lift the hood of the Triumph. “I’ve had my hands in a 1931 Bugatti Type 41. I don’t think it gets much better.”

“My collection is worth a dozen of those outdated bugs!” he exclaims. “The Triumph, a Lamborghini Aventador with custom drivetrains, and I’d bet this car that you haven’t seen a Datsun 240z in mint condition with all-wheel drive. If your little dump of a garage could handle even that! My 25,000 square foot garage has cars you’ve never even heard of.”

“LAPD SWAT!” Hondo calls as he and his team enter the garage. “You’re under arrest for grand theft auto, carjacking, assault and battery, murder, and about fifteen more charges that I don’t have the patience to list. Now, when an arrest warrant goes through without a name, you know that’s a bad person.”

“Do not push him up against this car!” you demand as Hondo grabs his shoulder. “Toolbox, wall, anything other than a pristine T3.”

“Thanks for the help,” Hondo calls over his shoulder as he leads the thief out of the garage.

“It’s a shame such a pretty car has to go into evidence before it returns to its owner,” you tell Street.

“Yeah. Listen-“

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” you ask.

“Do you want to go out with me?” he asks.

You smile as you answer, “I’d love to.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this place,” you promise as you take Street’s hand. “All of the food is served in trays that look like classic cars.”

Street laughs as you bounce excitedly and uses your joined hands to pull you close.

“If you could buy one classic car, what would it be?” he asks.

You answer without hesitation before asking him the same question.

“Car? Probably an Aston Martin or a ‘60s Impala. Something sleek, classic, dangerously fast,” he answers. “Motorcycle is still a Ducati.”

“You’d suit an Aston Martin or an Impala,” you agree. “Or you can just ride shotgun in mine.”

“I was born to drive,” Street says dramatically.

You laugh at him as you slide into a booth in the restaurant. Street follows, setting the tray of food before you as he sits beside you.

“Are all of our dates going to be car-themed?” Street asks.

“You’re the one who already planned our wedding, and I’ll go ahead and tell you now that I’m not firing Joel, so you tell me.”

“I don’t care what we do as long as you’re there,” Street decides.

You smile as you turn toward him, and when you raise your chin, Street kisses you quickly. You momentarily forget about the car-themed trays holding your food, too distracted by his affection to care about which model you got. But then he tells you he got the better one and you push him away from you to check. Street laughs as he pulls you close again, and you’ve never been happier to have so much in common with one person. Maybe there are two of you, but the balance and love Street brings is perfect.

[creative-frequency]

Lucanis Dellamorte x Reader: Late Nights & Delayed Confessions, pt.1

Summary: Lucanis and Illario are finally returning home from the Wigmaker Job in Vyrantium. You're waiting for them to see that Lucanis is alright and join them on the way back after a good night's rest. Unfortunately, the room in the tavern has only one bed. Word count: 821 Notes: (Unresolved) romantic tension, pining, you're an Antivan Crow, no spoilers for Veilguard → My writing masterlist

You had never particularly enjoyed the waiting game. Never had been any good at it either.

Seeing the ship finally arrive at the harbor, you felt antsy. Shaking the numbness off your limbs didn’t really help, but you moved closer in jarring steps, attempting to catch the two very familiar, hooded figures stepping down the drawbridge.

You planted your hands at your hips and waited for them to notice you in the middle of the stream of people.

“Only ‘the Great Lucanis Dellamorte’ would delay a summons from the First Talon herself,” you said loudly enough to catch the men’s attention. No one else around you paid any mind to it. And even if they would’ve happened to catch some of the words, a smart person would’ve doubled their efforts to leave the scene as fast as possible while pretending they heard nothing. Antivan Crows and their silly reputation.

The men paused right in front of you. Delight quickly spilled across Illario Dellamorte’s face and he pushed past his cousin to embrace you.

“Hah! Indeed.” You exchanged cheek kisses. “Fiore, it is lovely to see you.”

A muscle ticked at Lucanis’ jaw. There would be no cheek kisses or embraces for an old friend from him. Not that you had expected there to be.

“Did she send you to fetch us?” he questioned, poorly masking the irritation.

You finally took a cursory glance over Lucanis and your heart stilled for a moment. He seemed to be in one piece – despite the wild rumours you had heard of ‘the Demon of Vyrantium.’” Your next breath was a little easier.

“Not particularly, I just happened to be in the area.”

Lucanis rolled his eyes at your cheeky grin and obvious half-truth.

But he was alright. All of his limbs were still attached to that ridiculously lean, muscled torso. Not a hair out of place atop that stupid, handsome face. These thoughts ran rampant around in your head, mixed with bittersweet relief.

Illario followed the exchange and squinted.

“It’s going to be dark soon. We need to find a place for the night, cousin,” Lucanis said with a very good attempt at disregarding your presence.

“That tavern by the street corner is as good – or well, as bad, I guess – as any around here,” you said and nodded towards the said building, “If something as ordinary would suit you two gentlemen?”

“Of course. Let’s go.” Illario nodded. He offered his arm to you and you took it with a gracious smile in thanks. Lucanis stormed off ahead.

“Tell me, what news? Did anything interesting happen while we were away?” Illario asked. His was an easy smile and personality, unlike his cousin’s.

Though, you had seen how Lucanis could be charming, funny and witty in his own way. He just never deigned to show you this side of him.

Tapping your chin in thought, you couldn’t help noticing how Lucanis’ head turned just slightly to hear your reply.

“I was invited to visit the personal vineyard of the Valisti’s,” you finally said and couldn’t hide the smile. The invitation had been the result of months of tedious and hard work; exchanging pleasantries, dressing in the right attires, and serving the right amount of wine and gossip to the right people. The First Talon had disgruntledly admitted that you had outdone yourself.

At least not all the Dellamortes despised you since Illario showed the appropriate amount of excitement at the scandalous revelation: “You little..!”

He tucked you into his side for a quick embrace. You laughed and continued onward about idle gossip in the royal court and changes in the dynamics between the Merchant Princes. All the while Lucanis’ head was tilted to your direction.

“Oh, and I’m so sad you missed the masquerade ball last week! Lord Laurent had truly outdone himself…” you cooed. Illario was inclined to agree with a conspiratory chuckle. He loved parties and dressing up even more. You truly missed going to balls and parties with just fun in mind, not a contract to be fulfilled. And what a shame that Lord Laurent had been an excellent dancer.

“I hear the man was a real killer on the dance floor,” Illario commented.

Lucanis’ almost indistinguishable groan was swallowed by the hustle and bustle of people around the docks. He had a habit of sneaking out of any official or formal events as soon as Caterina was satisfied enough with the amount of face her grandson had shown around. It had been ages since the last time you had had the chance to pester Lucanis into a waltz.

The bubble of anticipation was settling into the all too familiar pining in your chest as you watched Lucanis’ back.

Arm curled around Illario’s, you continued towards the tavern to acquire lodgings for the night. For this one night, you could enjoy the company of old friends and not worry about the next contract.

-

→ Part 2

[pantherxrogers]

Are You In? - Luca x Reader x Carmy (18+ ONLY) Pt 3

Content warnings: smut (18+ only), fingering, explicit content, dry humping, male masturbation, voyeurism, exhibitionism, dirty talk

Summary: After date night, Luca and Reader are in the moooood. When Carmy interrupts, maybe there's room for everyone?

A/N: We're finally getting Carmy into the mix 😈 I still want them to have the full-on threesome later, but I thought this was a great way for them to work their way up to it. The dirty talk is dirty talking, so I hope it isn't too much for y'all LOL ☠️ thank you for being patient with me, lovelies!!

Giggling and stumbling into the apartment, your cheeks are warm beneath Luca's affection. This night was a whirlwind but much needed. After a romantic dinner, you and Luca are finally back home to fully relax. Or not relax.

"Shh, shh, Carmy might be sleeping," you giggle, ducking away from the way his lips tickle your neck. You squeal as he lifts you up and over his shoulder, leading you towards the kitchen.

"I doubt he's asleep, love. It's not even midnight yet," Luca assures you, playfully slapping your ass as you scold him. He carries you around to the oversized island, easing you down before he stands in between your legs.

He's glowing beneath the soft lighting in your apartment. Blonde hair messily perfect as he gazes into your eyes, love pouring into the gesture. He's wearing a linen button down, the baby blue contrasting perfectly with his slightly tanned skin.

His blue eyes trail over your skin, admiring the way your full breasts strain against the satin tube top. You squirm under his gaze, adjusting the skimpy mini skirt you threw on, knowing the effect it would have on him.

You watch as he trails a rough hand along the outside of your thigh, leaving goosebumps in his path.

"Look so pretty for me," Luca breaths out, snaking an arm around your waist. The way his voice dropped a few octaves sends a tingle into the pit of your tummy.

"You gonna let me have a taste?" he asks, hooded eyes drooping down to your full lips. You nod quickly just before he leans in to seal them with his own.

The kiss is languid and intimate, slow drags of his tongue over your own, like he's staking his claim. He's flush against your body now, the mini skirt doing little to buffer his growing hardness pressed against your core.

Soft moans slip out of your mouth, making Luca's head spin. You gasp out in shock when he roughly grabs your ass, pulling you to the edge of the marble. You wrap your legs around his waist, pressing into his firm body. He slowly grinds his hips against your core, the friction causing goosebumps to spread all over your body.

Hot, open-mouthed kisses against your neck make it harder for you to focus on anything else. Your head lulls back when you feel the smooth glide of Luca's tongue against the column on your neck.

His strong hands come up to cradle the sides of your face, pulling you back in for another kiss. The way his tongue teases your own is turning you on more than you'd like to admit. The fabric of your panties is thoroughly drenched now, causing a guttural moan to slip from Luca's throat.

"All it takes to get my girl this wet is my tongue in her mouth," he teases, challenging you with his eyes. Your head is still spinning as he rakes his eyes over your body once again, before connecting with your lips.

The messy makeout continues for a few more minutes before the sound of footsteps causes alarm bells to ring in your head. You're frozen in place as you see Carmy standing at the entrance to the kitchen, but Luca's still nestling into your neck, making it hard for you to focus.

"Luca, wait," you huff out, trying to get him to see what's going on. When he finally untangles himself from your body, you see the exact moment he notices Carmy is in the room. It's only for a moment, but his arms drape around you in a protective way, almost as if you were naked.

"Shit, I-I'm sorry," Carmy stammers out, snatching his AirPods out. You can tell he feels out of place. He's wearing a plain white shirt and a pair of worn pajama pants. Your eyes are drawn to his arms, just like always.

"I didn't know you guys were back. I just came to get a drink," he explains, still looking uncomfortable. Sympathy floods your chest, knowing how awkward you felt when you walked in on him.

"It's okay, Carm, really," you soothe, tugging your skirt down, as Luca eases back to give you some room.

"You can come get a drink, mate. It's fine," Luca agrees, still looking at Carmy in a strange way. You don't think it's jealously, more like he has a question for him.

It's silent in the kitchen when Carmy makes his way to the fridge, looking around for a cold bottle.

"As a matter of fact, can you grab two for us? We'll meet you in the living room," Luca states, much to your surprise. You almost groan from you place on the counter, hoping the two of you would be able to finish what you started. But, it's Carmy, and you don't want to be rude to him.

Carmy nods in response, before quickly exiting the room, leaving you to face Luca.

"Okay, what was that?" you whisper-yell, staring back at him with wild eyes.

"I asked our friend to get us some water," he jokes, amused by your response. The joke makes you roll your eyes, but you can't find it in yourself to actually be upset with him.

"Luca, you know what I mean," you playfully swat at his chest, earning a chuckle from him. "I thought we were going to finish..." you trail off, peeking up at him from beneath your lashes.

He looks down at you, eyes full of intensity, before speaking.

"Do you trust me?" His tone is soft, yet serious. He doesn't look upset or bothered by anything, and you can tell he wants an honest response from you.

"Of course I do," you answer earnestly, looking directly into his eyes.

"Then, let's go meet Carmy," he replies, lifting you off of the counter in one smooth motion.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

The TV plays softly in the background, as you rest your head on your boyfriend's shoulder, laughing at a funny scene in the movie. You feel much more relaxed now, the tension from the kitchen has melted away. It makes you remember why the three of you get along so well. Some friendships are just easy, the way it should be.

"So, Carm, what'd you get up to today?" You ask, glancing over at him on the chair across from you and Luca.

"Not much, honestly, went to a few more restaurants," he replies. You notice the ways his eyes dip down to where Luca's hand rests on your thigh. It makes you squirm a little bit.

"You should've come with us tonight, mate. The food was great," Luca chimes in, absentmindedly pulling you in tighter.

You agree with Luca and get lost in conversation with Carmy about your meal. As you're telling him about dessert and how there's another restaurant that the three of you should visit, you feel Luca's lips against your neck. His actions make your cheeks feel warm, but you continue talking, thinking he's just wanting to be closer to you.

Carmy is telling you about one of the dishes he tried earlier today, when you feel Luca's lips make his way up to the sensitive spot behind your ear. When you gasp softly, your cheeks flame in response.

"Luca," you chide, turning your head to meet his gaze.

You're shocked by the lust in his eyes, but it makes your tummy flutter. Suddenly, you're wishing you'd been able to continue your rendezvous in the kitchen. You snap yourself out of it when you hear Carmy readjusting in his chair.

"What are you doing?" you question, confused by why he's doing this in front of Carmy. You're a little alarmed, but the idea excites you. It brings you back to that fateful day in the guest room.

"Relax, babe, Carmy doesn't mind. Do you, mate?" Luca asks, suddenly turning his attention towards Carmy. You're surprised to see Carmy's heated gaze. There are no signs of discomfort, he looks like he's anticipating something.

"Nah, I don't mind," Carmy replies, unabashedly sweeping his eyes over your body again. Your heart's racing now, relishing in the attention of both Luca and Carmy.

"Say no and he'll be out of here," Luca's lips are at your ear, truth in his every word. He's giving you an out, never wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in any situation, especially something as big as this one.

You answer him by capturing his lips with your own, kissing him with enthusiasm. You hear a low groan from Luca's throat, his arm wrapping around your body to pull you closer to his side. His tongue snakes into your mouth again, messily exploring.

He pulls away to press more kisses into your neck, leaving you with nothing to do but glance over at Carmy. His blue eyes are hooded, locked on the way your chest heaves up and down in your little top. You wrap an arm behind Luca's neck pushing him further into you, when he kisses that sweet spot again.

"Shit," you gasp out, needing more from him, unable to take the throbbing between your legs. It's almost like he can read your mind, when his hand slips from around your waist, wedging in between your thighs.

Your cheeks are on fire now. Between the steady pressure of Luca's fingers massaging your clit through your panties, and the way Carmy's eyes are focused between your thighs, you don't know how long you'll last.

"Wanna spread your legs for us, sweet girl, hmm?" Luca murmurs into your ears, tracing his fingers along the damp fabric of your thong. The featherlike touch makes you squirm, before you're separating your thighs, exposing yourself.

You hear Carmy groan across from you, the sound sending a rush of wetness between your legs. Your lace thong clings to you, practically see through due to the drenched, gray fabric.

"Shit, she's fucking wet," Carmy mutters, lazily stroking himself. Your eyes can't tear away from his body, suddenly aware of the growing tent in his pants, a little gasp slips out of you.

Luca's fingers stroke your clit through the fabric, the perfect amount of pressure on your bundle of nerves. Your hips buck up into his hand, prompting him to chuckle.

"Want me to slide your little panties to the side? Show Carmy your pretty pussy?" He teases, rubbing firm circles on your clit.

"Y-yes, please," you sigh out, relieved when the buffer is gone. The cool air makes you clench around nothing, feeling empty for a moment, before Luca presses a thumb against your clit, drawing tight circles.

"Fuck, she's got a tight little cunt," Carmy groans out, causing a loud moan to slip through your lips. The way he talks about you like you aren't even there makes you feel even dirtier, but in the best way.

"Yeah, maybe I need to stretch her out a little more," Luca answers, slipping his forefinger into your hole. Your mouth hangs open, head lulling back onto the couch, before stops you.

"Uh uh, look up at Carmy, love," he commands, working his fingers into you. You glance up at Carmy, watching as his hand drags over his hard cock inside his pajama pants.

He chews on his bottom lip, eyes laser focused on the way your pussy clings to Luca's fingers. For a brief moment, you wonder what it'd be like to have him inside you this way.

You're burning up with arousal, not used to anyone watching such an intimate act. But the way Carmy's hand speeds up every time you moan pushes you closer to the edge.

"Fuck, you're clenching my fingers, baby. You like watching Carmy?" Luca grunts, noting the added wetness as you gaze over at his friend.

"Can't-,can't see anything," you mutter, lost in the way Luca adds another finger to your entrance. The slight stretch is perfect, along with the way he continues to shower your neck in kisses.

"Want to see my cock again, hmm?" Carmy presses you, meeting your eyes in a challenge. You bite your lip, knowing you want to, but afraid of how Luca might react to the knowledge.

"Go ahead, love, answer him," Luca notices your hesitancy and presses a softer kiss against your cheek, pushing you to voice your desires.

"Yes, I want to see it," you whine, Luca's thick fingers making it hard for you focus. Needing more stimulation, you bring a hand down to rub fast circles on your clit, both men groaning out at your actions.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," Carmy groans, fully stroking his cock out in the open. You're in a trance, staring at the red tip, precum oozing out. He must've really worked himself up watching Luca fuck you with his fingers.

His veiny hand is wrapped around his thick cock tightly, pumping himself with no shame. It reminds you of the way he was in his room, almost like he was in his own world. But, this time, he's focused on you.

The knowledge pushes you over the edge, tightening around Luca's fingers. Your orgasm comes fast, prolonged by Luca's slow glides against your walls, working you through the pleasure.

You watch as Carmy hits his peak, cum bubbling out onto his hand. He lets out a string of courses, messily bucking up into his own grip. It's almost pornographic, but you can't tear your eyes away. His chest heaves up and down, just like yours.

"Shit," you sigh out, nestling back into Luca's side, grounding yourself. He's moved his hand now, gently sliding your skirt back into place and pressing a kiss on the top of your hand.

"Shit," Carmy replies, the three of you sharing a laugh.

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

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