#WHY ARE NO STORES OPEN ON A SUNDAY?

[six-of-ravens]

need to remember that my preferred grocery store opens late on long weekend Sundays for some godforsaken reason. had to go to the more expensive store across the street (bc I was not driving 20 mins, thank you), and I didn't break my budget bc I didn't need a whole lot today, but was very much haunted by the unpleasant feeling of getting screwed over the whole time I was there.

[wanderingarcherviola]

Love when I order food at 2pm to be delivered at 8pm and then it gets cancelled as 7.45 because they have "Too many orders at this time" and can no longer accept mine. No option to walk down and pick it myself.. My order was confirmed at 2.05pm, well before any rush of orders came in specially so I WOULD be able to have take out when I got home from work.

I paid for my fuckin food, I got my order in EARLY so it wouldn't be forgotten or cancelled if there was a rush tonight.

[todayisafridaynight]

grocery shopping pact power snap godspeed.... already did my run and survived I'm passing the torch

i gotta wait like two more hours for the stores to open but UGGGGHHHHHHH i dont wanna go anywhere today

[wroteclassicaly]

18+

When your best-friend Steve Harrington asks you to hold his fleshlight for him.

It wasn’t really something that either of you planned on happening. But then it just did. Steve had been pent up from work all day from typical annoying patrons, smart mouthed jocks from the high school, that were freshmen when he was a senior (tenfold karma, Harrington), and Keith’s particular way of criticizing his every move out of some form of nerdy revenge. You could count on one hand the times that Steve had to bail out of your two person movie nights on Fridays (Saturdays were for dates and Sundays were for hanging with the rest of the parties and running kids around), and tonight happened to be one of those occurrences. Usually, it would be for self-care or whatever reason he needed to spend alone, but when he’d barely shed his leather jacket upon entering his house, dusting snow off of his boots — he was about to crawl out of his skin by the time his massive palm was wrapped around the receiver, thumb strangled by its cord.

He was… off? And seconds after he’d cancelled without much reason, the line went dead. You wanted to give him space, especially because he usually called back to tell you goodnight. But after being unable to sit still and finish a generous portion of the large pepperoni pizza you’d ordered the two of you, you were grabbing your keys for the journey over to his place.

~*~

It didn’t take but five minutes before you reached Steve’s house, pulling in behind his familiar car. You dangle the copy - made spare from your pointer finger, trekking your way up to the door and letting yourself in, wiping at your wind-whipped, wet eyes. You know he’s not on the first floor, its entirety dark and a little cool. So you toss your coat and keys onto the small table beside the entryway, kicking off your boots to join his on the cheesy welcome mat, and you make your way to the second floor landing to his bedroom. Seeing a buttery glow spill out from the crack in his doorway, you’d proceeded, only to be met with a sight that only appeared in your late night fantasies… and pretty much your every waking thought.

Steve is facing his mattress, sheets tousled and clothing pooled beside him, stood on the left side of his bed, naked and glistening in the perspiration of teasing, observing his massive length as he edges himself, moving the toy slowly over his cock. You know what it is, you’ve seen it in magazines and stores, in some porn. A fleshlight, they call it. Your brain goes through a million thoughts at a couple seconds to spare.

Why doesn’t he have someone here to do this with? He can get a date?

Is he okay? Obviously he’s very okay.

Holy fuck… he’s big.

Holy fuck… he’s beautiful.

A little more than usual, waiting on the summer sun to tan his freckle and mole spattered skin. His hair has grown longer, curling at the nape, his shoulder blades and biceps defined from a regular regime. And that ass, the way it flexes and is perfectly plump, connecting to those hairy thighs and big feet, his own toes curling when he twists, a wet squelch coming from the faux cunt. There’s beautiful chestnut curls scattered across him sternum and connecting to a trail that surrounds his base and those full, heavy, balls. That cock… thick, barely able to be pushed back into the toy, his fingers having to peel back its soft pink layers to help ease the slick way, decorated in a vein that matches the one running along his forearm

And you must make some sort of noise, because your lips part to let in a gasp of air, causing his body to twist in a sudden defensive stance, clenching the toy so tight with a ‘caught’ pose. You go to move and the door spills open completely, slamming back into his dresser and shaking old sports trophies. You’re panting, seeking out the words to apologize, Steve is wincing from how hard he still is, attempting to cover his modesty. But the air shifts in the room and you gain a boldness, a restlessness that won’t be satiated, nor a conscience satisfied if you don’t ask.

“Can I help you?” A customer service line from working at Scoops with him. But it comes naturally.

Steve, biting his lip, disheveled — he nods. And it’s happening. A tickling ease, a line crossed.

“C’mhere.” He’s waving with his opposite hand. His ribcage expands as he gulps in lungfuls of air.

You’re at his side shortly, shyly. “W-what do you need me to do?”

His spare hand pushes back through his hair, amber gaze gone to a midnight sky, teeth milky white, defined jawline covered in stubble, and a perfect nose. His voice is raspy when he lets you know what he needs.

“Go get on my bed, lay back for me. Please?”

A fucking gentleman.

All of your clothes feel too tight, smothering you as you lay back on his bed, his pillow immediately invading you. Your hands are unsure of where to go, but he approaches slowly, kneeling his way into kneeling by your feet. “I’m gonna… Can I use this between your legs, honey? You don’t have to do anything, just let me do all the work.” He motions to the toy and you want nothing more, suddenly offered the world.

It’s your turn to say it now. “C’mhere.”

He’s using that enriched tendon covered forearm to prop himself up beside of your head, slotting right between your knees, his remaining hand wrapped so tightly around the toy that his skin is pulled taunt over his knuckles. He sinks his teeth into his lower lip, releases it, licks it, and then he’s asking, “Can I?”

“Go. Do what you need to do. I’m right here, Steve.”

If you thought the toy was loud before, the sound of him working his lengthy girth through its walls right in front of you now — it’s surround sound. You’re watching, unable to help it, bones threaten to be dusted to ash from how hard your heart is ramming beneath your breastbone.

“Wanted to come over, but it’s been a shit week, an even shitter day. And I just needed to —“

“— Release some tension, right? I get it, I do it too. I have a cock that goes… I —“ you stop your horny rambling, face feeling too much warmed.

Steve’s face scrunches, teeth gritting, and he twists the toy until slowing it almost completely. “Tell me what you do. You fuck yourself with it, right? When everything is too much and not enough? Fuck, honey.”

He doesn’t verbalize, but you don’t either, simply accept the toy and hold it against your denim covered cunt, leaving Steve’s hands free to hold on either side of you, his nose nudging yours as he leans down — here, present. You copy his earlier motions, using the toy to glide along his length as he thrusts into it with a new focussed vigor. “That’s it. You feel so good, honey. Workin’ me so right.”

“I’m soaking — fucking — wet for you, Steve. Just so you know.”

His hips stutter and his nose finds its way into your eyelashes, cheek pressing into your own. “Fuck, you’re gonna make me cum into this thing, and I want —“

“— You want what, Steve?” You hold your breath.

He answers without fear or pause. “You.”

// Eat me paragraph //

[iluvmattsbeard]

late at night (c.s)

master list

warnings: none!

preview: you and the triplets decided to go rent out a cabin leaving the Los Angeles lifestyle for a little bit to take a breather. late at night, you were awaken by a sleepless Chris knocking on your door.

a/n: likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated!

you're in your room, packing your luggage as you talk on the phone, "how long are we staying there again?" you speak up, looking through your drawers. it was way too early in the morning. your mind needed some refreshing. "till Sunday." Nick replies shortly. he was also packing his things for the two day get away. you and the triplets decided to take this trip up the mountains to get peace and quiet. a change of scenery is always good. “is Matt and Chris ready?” you ask folding a few shirts. Nick scoffs, “Matt is still sleeping.” you look at the camera to face him. Nick looks back at you and freezes, “are you serious? how about Chris?” you ask with a straight face.

“let me see.” he says putting down what he had in his hands, walking towards his bedroom door. he opens it and shouts, “Chris!” you stare at the phone waiting for a response. “yeah?” Chris shouts back. “what are you doing?” Nick asks leaning against his door. Chris eventually walks into the room, “I just finished packing.” he says. he looks at the camera and sees you, causing him to smile a bit, “good morning Y/n.” he greets. “can you wake up Matt? I don’t want to be the one to drive up the mountain.” you ask with the same straight face, making Chris’s smile fade, “no good morning back?” he asks. Nick rolls his eyes before interrupting, “Chris, go do what she asked.” he pushes the younger brother out the door, shutting it.

“you and him need to get a license.” you let out, earning a scoff from him, “trust me, you don’t want me behind the wheel. especially if Matt and Chris are the passengers.” you laugh a bit shaking your head. you’ve witnessed his driving before, it’s not that he was terrible at it. he just stresses out too much. as you two finish packing, Chris knocks on Nick’s door before entering, “Matt’s getting ready now.” he says. “is he packed already?” Nick asks. “yeah. I guess he packed last night.” he responds getting on his phone. “that’s probably why he overslept.” you join in. Chris looks at you, “I still didn’t get a proper good morning.” he mutters. you ignore him, “okay Nick i’ll see you in a bit. I’ll stop by the store for a few items. just text me in the group chat.” Nick nods, as Chris sighs dramatically, “so now i’m being ignored?” he adds on making you laugh a bit.

“text in the group chat as well Chris. also, remind Matt to attach the snow chains onto the tires.” you state picking up your phone. “okay I will.” Nick guarantees you. you both say good bye and you start to carry your luggage.

meanwhile, the triplets start to pack the car, waiting for you to arrive. Chris texts you what he wants, including what his brothers want since the two were busy doing what you said earlier, attaching the snow chains.

Y/n

‘be there soon’

you text Chris causing him to grin.

Chris

‘I hope you’re in a nicer mood when I see you 😄’

Y/n

‘we’ll see’

after a bit, you arrived at their house, or as Chris states out dramatically, “finally! you took forever.” you place the bags on the counter looking at him, “maybe because someone, as in you, requested too many items.” you let out, handing him the bag with his requests. he takes it and smiles, “thank you.” you shake your head a bit, smiling slightly at his gratitude, “you’re welcome.”

your attention soon lands on Matt, “are you set to drive?” you ask. Matt nods, “yeah let’s go.” he responds. you all pile into the car with you sat in the back with Nick and Chris in the passenger seat. you were all now heading to the anticipated place, a cozy cabin that you all decided to split money on. the car ride was only 2 hours long. Nick knocked out during the whole ride, Matt was focused on the road, and you were resting your head on your fist, staring out the window. you admired the change of scenery. your thoughts were soon interrupted by Chris turning up his music. you lift your head to look at him. he was singing along loudly, “Chris! turn it down!” Matt shouts.

you laugh while Chris turns the music up louder. Nick gets woken up, “seriously?” he mumbles tiredly. “look, we’re here!” Chris says excitedly, pointing at the cabin. Matt parks the car as you all look at the building. it was perfect. you put on your beanie and head out the car with everyone else. the four of you carry everything out the car and head inside. Nick bends down and lifts the welcome mat, revealing a silver key. he picks it up and unlocks the door. as soon as everyone shuffled inside, you guys were instantly hit with a comforting scent. you guys look around and you couldn’t help but eye the fireplace. you were excited for this weekend. “let’s look at the rooms.” Matt suggests, walking towards the hallway. there was exactly four rooms.

you all pick out rooms and you guys settle in. Nick sits on your bed and looks around, “what is the plan for today?” he asks with a smile. you sit next to him, “I thought we were snowboarding?” you ask. Nick looks at you with an eyebrow raised, “do you think I know how?” he asks making you giggle, “how hard could it be?” you state.

you guys eventually did go snowboarding, “okay maybe I was quick to assume.” you say looking at Nick as you both were laying in the snow with visible irritation on his face. “I told you!” he lets out, causing you to laugh. “are you guys okay?” Chris asks lifting his goggles up. you look at him, “a little sore.” you respond. he smiles and puts his hand out. you look at his hand before grabbing it. he pulls you up. “okay help me now!” Nick shouts. you and Chris burst put into laughter.

when you guys head back to the cabin, you went straight to take a shower. your body was aching from all the tumbling you did also, from the tumbling Nick did into you. later on, you guys had pizza for dinner and you all ended up going to bed early. you were definitely drained from today, waking up early and absolutely failing at snowboarding. you didn’t hesitate to drift off to sleep.

suddenly, you were woken up by a knock on your door. you rub your eyes and get up wondering who it could be. you look at the clock on the bedside table and groan quietly. it was the middle of the night. you open the door and see Chris. you could tell from the look on his face that something was up, “what’s wrong?” you whisper tiredly. he looks at you and whispers back, “can I stay with you?” he asks catching you off guard. “what? why?” you ask confused because he usually goes to Matt. “please?” he adds on. you rub your forehead and sigh. you open the door wider, letting him in. he walks in and immediately lays in your bed. you shut the door and turn around, standing still.

you watch as Chris snuggles into your blanket, “why do you want to be in here?” you ask. “I had a bad dream.” he whispers.“then why didn’t you go to Matt or Nick?” you ask walking closer to the bed. he shuts his eyes, “I didn’t want to.” he responds. you shake your head a bit and eventually lay next to him. you lay on your hand facing him. Chris opens his eyes and looks at you. “do you want to tell me what happened in your dream?” you whisper. he just stays quiet as he continues to stare at you. “come on. you disturbed my sleep.” you add on. he shakes his head, “I don’t want to talk about it.” he says.

you sigh, “okay, try to get some more sleep then.” you say turning around. you lay on the opposite side as you look ahead of you. you then feel Chris’ get closer to you, making you turn around to face him. you both were looking at each other with a small distance in between. “I can’t sleep.” he whispers. “why not?” you ask with a slight groan. it was too late at night for this. you now understand why Matt wakes up grumpy. you analyze his face and still see the same look from earlier. you move the blanket and open your arms, indicating him to ‘come here’. he breaks the distance and lays his face in the crook of your neck.

you wrap your arms around him with one hand playing with his hair softly. Chris eventually relaxes in your arms. “Y/n?” he whispers with his eyes shut. “yes?” you respond. he let’s out a breath, “can we always be like this?” he asks with an unfamiliar tone. you pull away slightly to look at him but he hides his face. “Chris?” you say trying to move him so you could see his expression. “what’s wrong?” you ask with slight concern. as soon as your eyes met with his, you couldn’t help but notice tears roll down his cheeks. you widen your eyes, you’ve never seen him cry before, “Chris talk to me.” you add on.

“I feel like an idiot.” he says sitting up, causing you to sit up as well. you both sit there as you lift your hand to wipe his tears away. “tell me.” you whisper. his breath was shaky, “the dream I had…” he starts off but he shakes his head, “it’s stupid.” you shake your head, “Chris it’s okay just tell me.” you reassure him. he lets out a breath, “in the dream I told you how I felt about you and you didn’t feel the same way back. you ended up getting with someone else.” you sit there confused, “why would that bother you?” you ask. he shakes his head, “forget it.” you place your hand on his knee repeating the question, “why would that bother you?”

“this whole time i’ve felt this feeling. a strong feeling that i’ve tried to shake off. you know how I am, I don’t just feel these type of things. when you’re around, I feel this sudden urge of wanting to impress you or trying to get you to only look at me when i’m with my brothers.” he confesses making you sit there frozen. “when I had that dream, I woke up with my heart racing. that’s why I came here, to you. I don’t want it to be too late when it comes to me telling you how I feel.” he continues. “that’s why I asked if we could always be like this. it felt right to me.” he says talking about you both being in each other’s embrace.

Y/n’s POV

it was silent for a bit. I stared at him, continuing to analyze his face. I knew he was genuine about these feelings. looking back at it, I now realize his efforts. him coming to me now made me feel a knot in my stomach. deep down I did feel the same way, I just didn’t know if he felt it. Chris never acted this way. he’s never had a girlfriend or expressed his feelings to any girl utmost. so him telling me all of this left me speechless.

End of Y/n’s POV

he looks at you and waits for a response but nothing could come out of your mouth. Chris sighs, “i’m sorry if this was too much.” he moves about to get up but you grab his hand. you lay down pulling him back to how you both were before, with his face in the crook of your neck. “of course we can.” you whisper. he looks up at you with his mouth agape, “really?” he asks. you look at him and smile a bit, “yes really.” you reassure him. his eyes kept on you filled with admiration. you both smile and continue to be in each other’s arms. drifting off to sleep.

the next morning, you and Chris were on the sofa drinking hot chocolate. the fire place was lit and you both were under a shared blanket. you both talked about last night and how you both wanted to start off slow. as in not putting any labels on yet. he wanted to properly take you out first. you both agreed that when you both get back to LA that he would try for his license. you took his word for it. you sip your cocoa as he giggles a bit. you look at him with a raised eyebrow, “what you laughing at?” he smiles, “there’s something on your lip.” he says getting closer, leaving a small kiss on your lips.

“there we go.” he says licking his lips. “just whipped cream.” you sit there looking at him with pure shock. “what happened to slow and steady?” you ask. “I was just taking off the stuff from your lips.” he says with a sheepish smile. you put down your cocoa and pull him in for a proper kiss. he does the same and kisses back, resting his hands on your face. when you both pull away slowly, Chris speaks up, “I just had to kiss you. i’ve been waiting you know.” he whispers making you laugh softly. “okay but still. slow and steady.” you add on. he nods a bit, “it’s just kissing.” he says reattaching his lips onto yours.

a/n: yeah i don’t know how i feel about this but, hope you enjoyed. LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Two

“I’m really sorry,” Steve is saying before Eddie has the door fully open, but it makes Eddie smile. It feels like Steve has started saying ‘I’m sorry,’ instead of ‘hello’ as a matter of course.

It’s Sunday afternoon though, and Eddie isn’t cooking anything and Steve isn’t holding an empty plate, so Eddie has no clue what Steve could be sorry for this time.

“Could you come and help me with something? It’ll just take two moments.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie agrees easily, slipping on his adventure crocs and following Steve down the hall.

Eddie follows Steve into and then through his apartment into the small bedroom. It’s a two bed apartment, the same as Eddie’s. Eddie uses his spare room to store his guitars. He has a desk in there too; a place to write and paint his miniatures and do guitar maintenance.

It’s a nursery. It’s cute, animal themed. The ceiling is painted powder blue, which drops down onto the walls about a foot before ending in a neatly done scalloped edge. The walls are white, but have cloud shapes printed on them in the same blue. There are random tufts of painted grass popping up from the floor; some with flowers. The rocker and the other furniture, including crib and chest of drawers, are all painted the same green, and the blinds are green jungle, with elephants and big cats and monkeys hiding amongst the leaves. A lot of the soft things are yellow and white, and Eddie has not a fucking clue as to the sex of Steve’s pup, so he asks as much.

Steve smiles, “I don’t know. I didn’t want to know. I like surprises.”

“Huh. Well. I’m always the one shaking the gifts at Christmas, but I do love a surprise too. What did you need?”

“We have the fixings for the mobile there ready, but I clean forgot about it until now, and I’m too big to stretch up there. Didn’t do it at the time because we were moving furniture and I was frightened I’d break it.”

“Okay sure,” Eddie takes the dangly parts of the mobile; cute little moons and stars and sun shapes, and fixes it to the bit already attached to the ceiling. It’s nice, and easy to figure out, but it does hang low so he gets what Steve means.

He also sees why Steve can’t reach; he seems to have suddenly gotten even bigger over the last week, and he's also only been wearing these sort of loose shift dresses, like a blouse, a button up, and a tent had a horrendous love child.

He looks gorgeous though. Eddie always thought pregnancy must be pretty fucking miserable; your body betraying you almost. Needing to pee all the time, unreasonable hormones. Cravings. Morning sickness. Odd shit happening all over the place. Eddie always figured telling pregnant people that they’re ‘glowing’ was just a nice thing people said to make them feel better during what must be a pretty shitty nine months.

Not with Steve though. Steve’s actually glowing. Not like literally glowing but...he’s beautiful, and Eddie suddenly understands what all the fuss is about.

Steve clears his throat. Right. Right okay, Eddie’s creepy staring, “so I was going to make chicken parm again tonight, since I know you like it and it’s been a bit...do you maybe want to get out the apartment and come to another, slightly different, apartment?”

Steve laughs a little, looking at where his hands cradle his bump, before looking back up, cheeks pink, “I think I’d like that.”

Eddie’s laid the table as nice as he can. He snagged a little bunch of daisy looking things out of the garden and shoved them in a mug, just because he remembered Steve’s little daffodil.

He doesn’t own place mats, but he does dig out a table cloth he usually only uses for games night; it’s black, but it’s clean.

Steve settles himself at the table and Eddie goes and gets dinner, he can’t help but notice Steve shift in his seat, wincing.

“You okay?”

Steve hums, “been getting funny back pain, but it’s all normal. Could be anything really, just the weight of the baby, or maybe they are leaning on my sciatic nerve. It’s all fine. Nearly done now.”

Steve takes the first bite of his dinner and hums appreciatively. It makes Eddie warm inside, a little tickle of his brain releasing happy chemicals. Omega is being fed. Omega is safe and happy.

Eddie tells it to fuck off.

“So you’re due soon?” Which feels like he;s stating the obvious, Steve is the size of a tiny moon.

“Tomorrow.”

Eddie makes a noise, startled, then nearly chokes on a string of spaghetti, “excuse me,” he manages to get out, before drinking half his water, Steve looking half concerned and more than a little amused from the other side of the table. “Tomorrow?” Eddie asks weakly.

Steve nods, chewing and swallowing before he answers, “the due date is tomorrow, but it’s the norm really for first pups to go over that, even more normal with male Omega, don’t worry, it’s fine. Although it should be soon, I passed the mucus plug yesterday.”

Eddie nearly chokes again, “the what?” he tries his best not to sound too horrified.

“Oh. Sorry, you probably don't want to hear about the uhm, the kind of gross stuff.”

“No, no, of course it’s fine what is...uhm...that?” And Eddie is fully prepared to regret acquiring this cursed knowledge. He doesn’t even know what it is and he’s already eyeing his spaghetti sauce dubiously. For Steve though...he will learn about the gross stuff.

“Oh, well, when you’re pregnant you get sort of this...lump of...gacky stuff and blood. You don’t have periods when you’re pregnant usually, so it kind of protects everything from infection getting in and stuff like that.”

Eddie takes a deep breath and lets it out, blowing up his bangs, and makes himself eat his dinner normally, “fair enough, but that means you’re...kinda’ close?”

“Well, kinda’. Robin’s spending this morning with her girlfriend and then this afternoon sorting her place out. She’ll be over later, she’s moving in until the pups a week old or so, just make sure I’m okay.”

“She’s...a really good friend, right?” It warms Eddie to know Steve has someone like that in his life.

“Yeah...she’s been there with me through everything. Every appointment, all the classes, everything. Even when I decided I wanted to do this it was...it was right after yet another crappy breakup, you know. She could have said all the sensible things about maybe it's not the right time yet, or that I should...think about it. You know, all that things that would have been totally reasonable for her to say but I'd just...I’d just had enough of waiting and she said she’d support me whatever, and that was that. She’s the best.”

Steve shifts again, putting down his cutlery to try and stretch his back out, hissing with pain, “you sure you’re okay?” Eddie asks, concerned.

“Yeah, fine I think,” Steve bends forward then, gripping the edge of the table and breathing out harshly through his nose, “oh that felt weird.”

Eddie’s up and coming around the table before he can stop himself, hovering his hands, not sure if it’s okay to touch, “Steve?”

“I...oh. Oh gosh I’m so sorry Eddie,” Steve stands cautiously revealing a very clear wet patch on the seat.

“I...that’s fine,” Eddie squeaks out, “are you...is this. Is that…?”

“Yeah, pretty sure my water just broke. And I really wanted that chicken parm,” Steve sighs.

“I can make it again,” Eddie says reflexively, “kind of feel like there’s bigger things to think about what should- like can I help? What do we do?”

Eddie finds himself, very strangely, not panicking. Like, well, maybe a little, but not an uncontrollable amount. Which now he’s here that’s a really nice surprise.

“I’ll just call Robbie, and then will you walk me home?”

And Eddie had maybe had inappropriate thoughts about walking Steve home so he could steal a kiss, not whatever this is. But. Still. “Of course.”

Steve smiles at him with his phone next to his ear, “it’s go time Birdie. Oh, what was I supposed to say? Code red? The eagle is...leaving? I can’t remember, you couldn’t make your mind up about the-” Steve hisses, bending to lean on the table, “yep, yep, see you soon.”

Steve hangs up, telling Eddie she’s on her way as they walk down the hall, dinner abandoned on the table. Steve chooses to stand, walking little laps back and forth along the back of the couch, “is there anything I can do?”

“My bag and car seat are in the nursery, if you don’t mind grabbing those?” Eddie does, putting Steve’s things right by the door, “oh, and a towel, from the bathroom? I don’t want to make a mess in Rob’s car.”

“Sure thing,” Eddie grabs a bath towel from there, and puts it on top, just as Steve’s phone starts ringing.

Eddie can practically feel it when Steve tenses up, his scent turning bitter with distress. Despite what’s going on, Steve’s scent hadn’t changed at all until now, “your car won’t start?”

He sounds terrified.

“I. Yeah. Okay. I can wait I’ll- okay.”

“Okay?” Steve shakes his head, eyes suddenly wet, he looks like he’s biting back tears and Eddie can’t stop himself from going to him.

“She’s got to wait for Chrissy to get to her place and pick her up, then they’ll come over,” Eddie has to make this better. He has to.

“Okay, how about this, me and you go now, I’ll take you, and they can meet you there? That’ll make it faster right?”

“I mean, I’m not...I mean labor can take hours and hours, I’m being silly I just- Eddie I’m a bit scared. She was supposed to be here, it’s a bit too soon.”

They end up holding hands, which Eddie’s kind of thrilled about even if Steve is squeezing the life out of him, “would you feel better if you were waiting at the hospital?”

Steve bites his lip, clearly torn, “are you sure you don’t mind?”

“I’ll get my keys.”

Part Four

[lagtrain]

i hate this stupid town WHY IS NOTHING OPEN!!!!

[spyder-junkie]

EARTH-42 MILES MORALES X READER part 4

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

drop idea for the next part because Im running outta steam lol

It isnt long before you and Miles are hanging out every other day.

You would see him after school when you could, or he would sneak into your room at night.

And this goes on for weeks.

That is until you’re talking to Miles one night outside his flat.

You wish him goodbye, kissing his cheek and being on your way. He goes inside, and as you’re about half way down the block, you get a text.

‘my momma saw you kiss me through the window, she wants to meet you.’

You literally stand still on the sidewalk for a moment, heart beating in your chest.

So the two of you try to schedule a day where you can sit down and meet Rio.

You pitch the following day, but she has to work late at the hospital.

Miles pitches friday, but you have an afterschool study session

So you pick that sunday, which works until Miles calls you and tells you Rio was scheduled a later shift and wouldnt be able to cook that day.

“How about we cook instead? To give her a break.” You say.

Miles’ face scrunches up in the facetime.

“I cant cook.” He says plainly.

“But I can, it could be a surprise.” You say.

So thats what you do. Miles tells Rio and Aaron they’ll order food that afternoon, and you and Miles go to the store to get groceries in the morning.

Miles sat at the island of the kitchen, his head in his hand as he watched you cook.

He was playing music for you, a couple modern hispanic pop songs.

“Shes really gonna like this.” Miles said, small smike on his face.

“I hope so.” You reply, mixing something in a pot.

You put your spoon down, letting the food cook while you turn to Miles.

You reach your hand out, prompting him to stand infront of you.

You smile up at him, swaying your hips softly in tune of the music.

He follows your lead, a little smoother than you expected.

He hums along softly to the song, spinning your around the kitchen.

“Youre light on your feet.” You say, letting him twirl you.

The two of you dance and laugh until the kitchen timer dings, in which you break away to check the food.

And unbeknownst to you, Rio stands at the front door, Aaron at her side as she peers through the opened crack.

“Theyre gonna realize youre watching em.” He says, a smirk plasterd on his face.

“I havent seen my baby dance since he was a baby.” Rio whispers.

She waits until the two of you begin plating the food to smooth her scrubs out and open the door.

“Estoy en casa.” She said softly, catching Miles’s eyes.

“Whats all this?” She had a sort of unreadable expression on her face.

“Miles told me you wouldnt have time to cook, so I thought why not cook for you?” You say timidly.

You take you oven mits off and walk up to Rio.

“Soy s/n, gusto en conocerla Sra. Morales” You smile, holding your hand out to her.

Her expression cracks, a smile gracing her lips.

“Encantada de conocerte, nice spanish you have there.”

You then hold your hand out to Aaron.

“Nice to meet you too Mr.Aaron.”

Aaron is a bit more curt with his handshake, his face still stoic. He hums out a little “mhm” as he shakes your hand.

“Shes pretty, Miles.” Rio gushes, then she turns to you. “Youre really pretty.”

miles shrugs with a cocky grin on his face, leaning against the kitchen island.

You smile and thank her, walking back to the stove.

“Miles mentioned how much you like puerto rican dishes, so i made mofongo and Arroz con gandules.”

Rio looks over the food, taking a moment to smell over the aromas.

“Your abuela used to make this when you were little, Miles.” She says fondly, then she shakes her head.

“This looks great, lets eat. Miles help me set the table.”

So while you plate the food, Rio and Miles set the table. The four of you sat down to eat not before long, You and Miles on one side of the table, Rio and Aaron on the other.

“You did real good here, ma.” Miles says, mouth half full.

“He’s right, you know your way around a kitchen. Isnt that right Aaron?” Rio elbows him.

Aaron humms a ‘mhm’ eating well nonetheless.

“You know Unc,” Miles begins, putting a spoonful of rice in his mouth.

“Y/n might be able to fix your truck.”

Aaron raises his eyebrow at you, your eyes widening.

“Oh- I, uh, my dad works with cars, Miles told me you were having some issues, maybe i could take a look at it.” You say softly, tensing under his gaze.

“Its an engine problem. I doubt you can fix it.” He says.

Before you can say anything, Miles and Rio protest at the same time.

“Cmon man.”

“Give her a chance.”

Aaron rolls his eyes.

“….you can come look at it after dinner.” He says, getting back to his meal.

When everyone finishes their meal and the conversation dies down, Aaron gets up from the table.

“Lets go.” He huffs.

You and Miles stand up and follow him to the door just before he puts his hand to Miles’ chest.

“Help your moma with the dishes.”

“Man what I-“ Miles’ face scrunches up in irritation as Aaron gives him a pointed look.

“We’ll be back.” He says, motioning you to follow him.

And you do, you follow him down to the parking deck. He leads you to a mini garage labeled with a different apartment number than the one Miles stays in, probably for a different building.

Silently he pops the hood of the car for you, propping open his took box and motioning towards the car. He then crosses his arms and leans against the wall.

You gulp.

Quietly you scan your eyes over the mechanics inside the hood, looking to see what could be wrong with the engine.

“The start up is weak.” Aaron says suddenly.

“Took her to the mechanics and they quoted me 7 hundred to fix it.”

“Oh, why didnt they just give it a flush?” You ask, turning to him.

He raises an eyebrow.

You look around the garage for a mechanic creep, stretching it out and rolling your way under the hood of the car. Taking a wrench, you dislodge a couple bolts, pulling a pannel open.

“Do you have a watter bottle?” You ask, reaching your grease soaked hand our from under the car.

Theres shuffling, then a new watter bottle is placed in your hand.

You flush out part of the engine, using a given rag to dry it out and placing the pannel back on. Then you roll out from under the car, wiping your forehead.

“Try starting her up.” You say.

Aaron gets in the car, putting the key in and starting it up. And it starts up smooth.

A suprised expression crosses his face, followed by a smile.

“Id do that every 2-3 months, if you do it too much those parts will rust.” You say, coming up besides him while wiping your hands with a rag.

Aaron claps your back suddenly, beaming down at you.

“Thanks babygirl, I might have to get you in here on off days, get a set of extra hands on the projects we’re working on.”

You wonder if he’s talking about prowler things.

You dont ask though, giving a small ‘you’re welcome’ and walking after him as he closes the garage.

The walk back is quiet for a while, then Aaron speaks.

“My nephew has a lot going on in his life.” He says.

“If you can keep him focused on what’s important, Ion’ mind you staying around.”

You look over at him, then nod your head.

When the two of you return to the apartment, you’re laughing at the embarrassing Miles stories Aaron is telling you.

“Well, how’d it go?” Rio asks, a little surprised at Aaron’s joyfulness.

“She saved me 7 hundred, so pretty well.” He smiles.

“See i knew you could handle it.” Miles nudges your shoulder and kisses your cheek.

“Y/n.” Rio calls you name. Her and Aaron look at each other, then at you.

“¿Puedo hablar contigo un momento?”

You look at her and nod, noticing Aaron usher miles into another room.

“Yes ma’am?” You say, sitting at the dining table across from her.

“You know I love my son.” She begins. The air is a little tense now.

“I love him more than anything else, more than he’ll ever know. And he has lost a lot. I dont want to see him hurt again.” She looks at you seriously.

“I dont want to see him hurt ever.” You reply.

“Lets make a deal, then.” Rio says.

“You take care of him, make sure he knows hes loved, and be there for him in the places I cant, and no matter what youll always be welcome here in my home.”

You smile, shaking her out stretched hand.

“Deal.”

The rest of the evening you spend having hearty conversations with Rio and Aaron in the living room.

Miles has you pressed to his side, his hand on your knee.

Sometime into the night you notice him drifting off beside you, his head drooping onto your shoulder peacefully.

And after a while its time for you to go home.

“Walk her home boy.” Aaron quipped, smacking Miles on the back of his neck and startling him awake.

Miles glares at his uncle, getting up to grab his shoes and meet you by the door.

And he walks you home, hand in yours and shoulders relaxed. And once you’re home, you kiss him on the cheek and wish him goodnight.

Then maybe an hour later, after youve showered and gotten into your pajamas, you get a text.

“You did good today, Hermosa, Im proud of you. Also, my mom really likes you, she said come back soon”

tags: @tishsrealwife @call-me-nev @hana-1235 @youcantseem3 @kaealowri @unadulteratedwizardrunaway @kezibear @urmotherswhor3 @ladylovegood-69 @thetoetickler @cumbermovels @cozmicwonder @yams-ley @sh-tposter2021 @vampjacinda @roadkillmeal @animechick555 @the-smut-plug @iluvdi0r @stevenknightmarc @yoashh @kitsunna @caffeine-mess @arachnenotes @erensbbg @nightshxdex @el-chiste @3alvatore @sh-tposter2021 @miatjie @agstuffsworld @ella34435 @iluvdi0r @pulling-out-my-eyes @vakiui @bigpepperpicker @swaggybae @tsukisaiki @osebb

[milksnake-tea]

✩ CHAPTER SUMMARY : Sunday spreads his wings for the first time in years.

✩ SERIES SYNOPSIS : Following the catastrophe of the Charmony Festival, rather than in one of Penacony's hospitals or prisons, Sunday awakens right in the base of one of the most notorious criminals in the galaxies. With nowhere else to go, he's left to follow you, the Stellaron Hunters' medic, in his attempts to become accustomed to his new life.

✩ WORD COUNT : 3.8k

✩ TAGLIST : @vynicity , @vxnuslogy, @https-mika, @greyrain23, @red-ninja15, @arienic , @immahuman , @sund4ykisser , @mysteriaqueen , @kiopanxp , @isa-l0v3r , @hesper-houkai-kat , @gamekillera , @nayukiyukihira , @randomidk-123 , @universetrash , @forevernyeong , @thedepartedcryptid , @heyhazelnut101 , @1000-leaves , @lowkeyren , @zhayur , @jellofishuu , @kascar-chronicle , @azaleaflowerr , @neigee , @fallintothechasm , @veritusratio , @astolary , @xphantasmagoriax , @semi-orangeapple , @ezra1yn , @xynthevoid , @apinu , @crysangria , @shenwi , @louchive , @mave-in , @mutiachan , @meerpea ( send me an ask off anon if you want to be added !! remember to specify that it is for this series )

✩ ADDITIONAL NOTES : sorry for the later update yall, i had to study for a math placement test and write scholarship essays 😭 more emotionally packed chapter this time because apparently i can't go on too long without sunday suffering. its not that bad tho. have fun, and thank you to @vxnuslogy for betareading this chapter for me !!

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Unnaturally-colored lights illuminate your face in an eerie glow. All that can be heard in your dark office are the small clicks of your digital keyboard as you type and the soft tunes of your computer.

Holding out your hand, you extract some of the stolen medicine from your inventory and throw them into your synthesizer with an effortless wave. Your fingers tap against the table in small, repetitive motions as you idly watch the drugs separating into their basic chemical compositions.

It’s been a few hours since you’ve returned from Euphrosyne.

Shortly after Sunday’s first robbery (with heavy quotation marks), he’d dragged you into a cosmetics store in order to ransack it of its skincare products. Now, you weren’t completely clueless, but some of the things he picked out you didn’t even know existed - and you stole drugs on the basis.

You wince at the memory. Your wallet is still recovering from that escapade - with so many people in a smaller store, it was inconvenient to just drug them all, so you ended up having to pay the old-fashioned way, much to your chagrin.

You raise your hand to type a few commands into the holographic keyboard that appears beside you. The synthesizer glows, rearranging and recombining the chemicals until a completely new drug is born.

Sunday’s probably in his room right now, putting away the gifts you’d bought him and no doubt eager to return Blade’s borrowed clothes. In a few minutes, he’ll come walking through your doorway for the examination of his wings.

His wings… The image of them at the clothing store resurfaces in your mind with a furrowing of your brow.

While you have a good feel for his personality, you can’t understand why he’d keep his wings like that. If you were a Halovian and had wings like that, you’d fly whenever possible. Wings like those are meant to be used.

After all, aren’t birds born to fly?

A high-pitched hum from the synthesizer snaps you from your thoughts. The new drugs float patiently in the synthesizer’s hold, awaiting your final input.

Ah, right. You almost forgot.

You walk over to your desk and down to open up a drawer next to it. Inside is your stash of sugar and various packets of artificial flavoring - ranging from typical fruity flavors to root beer or even coffee.

It isn’t like the Stellaron Hunters are made up of notoriously picky eaters (except for Silver Wolf, but she’s different), but you still like to add a little bit of flavoring as a final touch, just to make the otherwise bitter medicines bearable.

Returning to the synthesizer, you unzip a bag of sugar and scoop out a cup or two and dump it in, along with a few drops of random flavoring you grabbed. With another quick typing, you assign each medicinal candy a flavor and an appropriate amount of sugar, and then it’s done.

And then, as if on cue, the familiar sound of heavy boots comes from behind you.  

You squint as you look up from your synthesizer, the light from the hallway blinding you momentarily.

“Must you always do your work in darkness?” Blade mutters as he steps into the infirmary. 

His youthful face shows no signs of weariness, but you can tell from his slumped body language how many hours of sleep he’d gotten - which is to say, zero.

You shrug, taking the finished candies from the synthesizer. “It helps me concentrate.”

A ragged sigh emits from your senior. “If you wish to blind yourself so soon, my sword is a faster option.”

“I’m good, thanks,” you chuckle. “Besides, a little eye problem isn't anything I can't bounce back from.”

Blade’s gaze is piercing as he stares at you, the slightest narrowing of his eyes revealing his disapproval. “Your constitution does not warrant recklessness.”

Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes. “Don't act like you're worried about me.”

He scoffs. Turning his head, the conversation ends there, leaving empty space behind. The silence isn’t unbearable; with Blade, things have always been this way, but there's an unmistakable tension in the air that you don't care enough to dispel.

You drop half of the candies into a jar before sliding said jar towards Blade.

“That should be enough for a month or so,” you say, leaning your elbows against the counter. “But don’t overdose, okay? Only use them when the mara becomes too much.”

Blade takes the jar without so much as a second glance. “I am aware.”

The shadow he casts as he leaves feels taller and more imposing than it should be. It catches the tip of your shoe, and you subtly take a step back.

The second Blade’s silhouette leaves your sight, a heavy sigh sags your body. Massaging your temple idly, you stare blankly into the light of your synthesizer.

“Great Mercy…” you groan, burying your face in your hands. “You just had to make it awkward, didn’t you? And we were doing so well too.”

You lift your head. Your vision feels hazy, and you don’t truly see your hands in front of you. The synthesizer’s glow blurs with the light in the doorway and the skin of your palms. For a moment, you are no longer in your office, but somewhere far, far away - a place you left several Amber Eras ago.

Inhaling sharply, you shake your head, dragging a hand over your face. Physically, it’s impossible for you to feel tired, but your mind is absolutely exhausted.

“That’s enough,” you quietly scold yourself. You roll back your shoulders and straighten from the desk, wiping your mind of any troubling thoughts. Blade never holds any grudges, and so neither should you.

Yeah… You shouldn’t.

You rest a hand over your heart. It thuds under your touch, still as frenzied and frightened as it was all those eras ago. Briefly, you consider ripping it out and growing a new one altogether.

“Mx. [Name]?”

A new silhouette joins the hallway’s light. You turn to see Sunday standing in the doorway, his expression candid - although slightly apprehensive. You wonder how long he’d been there - and hope that he didn’t see your exchange with Blade.

“You know, you don’t have to call me that,” you say, allowing your hand to drop to your side. Sunday blinks.

“Ah… I see.” He rests a hand over his heart in apology. “Forgive me, it’s a habit I developed in my line of work.”

Always with the apologizing, you think in amusement. “Nothing I need to forgive you for. All I’m saying is that you can just call me by my name, or whatever nickname you decide to force upon me.”

“A nickname,” he repeats. “Like the ones you call Ms. Kafka, and the others?”

“Don’t forget yourself, princess,” you joke, drinking in the way Sunday’s upper wings twitch at the name.

He sighs with a smile. “I was doing my best to.”

You hum out a laugh. “Yeah, I’m not going to let you. Come on in, let’s take a look at those wings, shall we?”

Immediately the lighthearted mood is vanquished. The air thickens, becoming almost suffocating. Sunday’s smile falters, the glow in his eyes dulls, and he crosses his arms in a vain attempt to provide himself a semblance of comfort.

Fear flashes over his eyes, and then a steady, unwavering determination.

“Right.” He breathes in, the breath shaking in his chest as he prepares himself. “The wings.”

—

It hurts.

Sunday knows he should’ve expected this - he hadn’t fully extended his wings in who knows how long, but still, the pain that strikes through his body is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Even the fall of the Charmony Festival hadn’t hurt this bad.

His body screams at him to stop, but the stretch is as painful as it is necessary.

“Breathe, princess.”

Your hand is an anchor at the small of his back, your palm flat against him as you aid him in extending his wings. 

In the back of his mind, he wants to shove you away, for his larger pair of wings are surely a horrid sight - an image of grotesque, mangled limbs flashes in his mind. But the pain overrides his need to appear presentable.

Sunday’s breath rattles - it’s a deadweight in his chest, pressing down on his lungs and heart and comes out as a wheeze.

“Princess, listen to me-”

Your voice drowns in the sea of his thoughts.

His eyes squeeze shut. In a seizure of ill-willed panic, he forces his wings to open faster, biting back a scream as the tearing sensation returns in full force. His fingers dig into his palms in an attempt to ground himself, but adding pain to pain does little to console.

His mind becomes a storm-wrecked ocean, waves crashing and beating at him every time he tries to surface. Horrid thoughts howl above him with the harsh winds, screaming at him to open them faster, to get this over with, to not disappoint you.

Water fills his lungs and he chokes, hands scrambling for any sort of anchor but finding nothing in their grasp. 

He’ll drown - he is drowning, slammed deeper into the waves again and again until-

Something grabs his wrist and pulls him out.

“Sunday.”

A strangled gasp shudders him. His eyes fly open.

The storm is gone. Replacing its howls is the distant hum of your synthesizer, and the dark waves are washed away by a gentle shadow. He sits no longer in groundless water, but instead on one of the two beds in the infirmary.

Your hand runs over his spine in a soothing motion while the other squeezes his shoulder firmly. Subconsciously, Sunday leans into your palms to stabilize himself.

He allows himself a few moments to breathe, gulping down vital mouthfuls of air. Like statues, his wings rigidly stay in place, in the middle of ripping themselves open. After a few minutes of silence, he finally composes himself enough to speak.

“I-”

“Don’t apologize,” you cut him off. Shame burns Sunday regardless. “Just listen.”

It takes Sunday a moment, one part because of his still-buzzing mind, one part another predicament entirely.

Your fingers linger around where the base of his wings are, in the window of the thin, long-sleeved shirt he’s thrown on for the examination. All of his senses are zeroed in on that small sliver of skin, tingling at the mere prospect of another’s touch - although he can’t tell if it wants or fears it.

“Sunday?”

With a start, he realizes you’re awaiting his answer. Heat rushing to his cheeks, he nods tentatively, signaling for you to continue.

“Your wings aren’t used to being pried open like that,” you say calmly. Instinctively he tries to find any hint that you’re annoyed, or irritated, or any of the sort. But he finds nothing, only a strangely secure serenity. “You have to take it slow; otherwise you’ll hurt them even more.”

Relief floods him when your palm lies flat against him once more. 

Wait, relief? Why was he…

“Focus on my voice,” you interrupt his thoughts before he can get too embarrassed. “I’ll guide you through it. Now, may I?”

Sunday’s lips part to ask just what you mean by that, only for his voice to lodge in his throat as you ghost a hand over the base of his wing.

Granted, his second pair of wings isn’t as sensitive as the ones that lie behind his head - thank Ena for that - but they still are more sensitive than he’d like to admit. Allowing you, who he’s known for a little more than a day, to touch them… even if this is a medical necessity, he still finds himself a bit wary.

“May I ask what you’re planning to do, first?” he asks quietly, turning slightly so that he can glimpse at your face.

“Remember what I did back on Euphrosyne, with the clerk?” you reassuringly squeeze his shoulder one last time before hovering both of your hands over the base of his wings.

Sunday remembers the scene at the clinic. “Your lollipop, you mean?”

You chuckle. “That too. But no, I meant what happened after the lollipop - when the clerk hit their head.”

“Ah.” Sunday’s wings rustle. “That healing ability of yours. You intend to use it on my wings?”

“Bingo. You hurt them a bit in that frenzy just now, so I need to repair that. It’ll also make the stretch much easier.”

That makes sense, Sunday thinks. But there’s one thing he’s slightly worried about.

“Is touching my wings necessary for this procedure?”

You hum. “Not really, although it’d be more efficient if I did. If I handle your wings directly, I can further aid you in extending them and more accurately heal them when needed. Would you rather I didn’t?”

If it were any other person - save for perhaps Robin and his adoptive father, Sunday would’ve said yes right away. A Halovian’s wings were one of the most intimate parts of them, especially the ones that extend from their nape. Only close friends, family, and romantic partners were allowed to touch them.

But the more he thinks, the more he realizes that he doesn’t feel as inclined to those traditions with you. There’s something about you that puts him at ease, much to his chagrin.

For some bewildering reason, he trusts you.

It’s just a medicinal procedure, he tells himself.

“No, I don’t mind,” Sunday finally says, turning his back. “Do what you must, doctor.”

He hears an amused hum from behind. “Alright, princess. Follow my lead.”

Sunday lets his eyes flutter close. He feels your hands lay gentle on his wings, the touch sending tingles of static up and down. It’s almost ticklish, but it isn’t unpleasant.

Warmth blooms at the curve of his wings, ebbing away the pain and leaving him with an almost refreshed feeling, as if stepping out of a dark forest into a sunlit meadow. He realizes that it’s your ability at work. Slowly, his shoulders droop, and his muscles relax.

Then he feels your hands slide up his wings, applying pressure every so often like a massage, correcting the kinks in his bones and healing whenever needed.

His breath hitches at the feeling. A pleased hum begins to vibrate in his chest like static as he loses himself to the dream-like feeling.

Vaguely, he hears you instruct him to open and close his wings, and he listens, easing them open at a gradual pace. The hum in his chest increases in magnitude, his back arching slightly as his wings extend to their full length.

He sighs in satisfaction once the stretch is complete and the tips of his feathers brush against the ceiling in a veil of midnight blue.

“Someone looks happy,” you say. “Feels better, doesn’t it?”

Your voice comes from a higher place than before, making Sunday look up. You smile down at him, hand resting gently on the bend of his left wing.

His left wing…

His serene expression falters. Carefully, he folds that wing in front of him and takes the dark plumage in his hands. Running his fingers amongst the feathers, he stops with narrowed eyes at the feeling of a sudden edge in the sea of softness.

Just as before, his left wing’s flight feathers are still cut short, snipped so that he may never take to the skies.

This time, he had been the one to cut them - Gopher Wood needn’t be bothered with such trivial matters, especially after Sunday had become an adult. But he remembers his first cutting well - the sheen of the scissors, the iron grip on his wings, the fear he’d felt, all in the past but not truly left behind.

“They’ll grow back.”

Sunday glances up.

“I know.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, not even to himself. But what he wants to convince himself of, he doesn’t know.

Sunday lets go of his wing and lets it hang comfortably at his side. You slide off the bed behind him and pull up your office chair. Sitting on it with your chest against the back, you roll back in front of him.

“Try flapping them,” you say. “Slowly, just open and close until you get used to the feeling.”

Sunday obliges. The wings are larger and heavier than he expects, and it’s a bit of a struggle, but he manages. Winds spurs from every flap of his wings, rustling your hair each time.

“No pain?” you prompt, raising a hand to summon a screen and type some things onto it. Sunday shakes his head.

“No.” He flaps one more time just to make sure, but he feels nothing, only his wings’ new weight.

“Good.” You type a bit more before closing the window. “I wouldn’t try flying just yet - especially with those clipped feathers, but we can start out with a few exercises every day to strengthen them. Kind of like physical therapy.”

Something warm blooms in Sunday’s chest. His heart rate quickens, and for the first time in years, he feels excited, giddy, relieved. It’s almost overwhelming, all of it. 

He flicks his wing again, and again, and again. A gleeful laugh bubbles up in his chest. 

His feathers tickle against his cheek, as if his wings are trying to comfort him. He smiles at the thought, despite how silly it is.

But then he remembers where he is. Heat reddens his face as he meets your amused gaze, his upper wings instinctively covering his face as he coughs bashfully.

“Sorry, I’m afraid I got a little carried away.”

“Aw, don’t get embarrassed on me now,” you giggle, not helping his predicament at all. “It was cute, watching you get all giddy.”

He half-heartedly shoots you a glare, to which you only smile calmly in reply.

“Are we finished here?” he huffs, eager to change the subject. You hum.

“Yeah, basically. I don’t have anything to give you, unless you want some of those sleeping candies I mentioned earlier.”

Sunday blinks. For a moment, he contemplates the offer despite you probably having only mentioned it in passing.

The nightmare from last night still hangs fresh in his mind, and his inability to fall asleep still bears its consequences - the reminder brings back the dull ache at the back of his head which he’d tried to ignore. Sleeping still scares him - if naturally induced rest brings upon visions such as those, he’d rather not sleep at all. But he is still mortal, human, and as such, he cannot evade his body’s needs forever.

Yet at the same time, he doesn’t want you to think there’s anything wrong with him to warrant such medications. 

Then again, you’ve already seen his wings.

“Those medications of yours,” he says softly, “do they get rid of dreams?”

You prop your elbows up on the back of your chair. “They do. Are you suffering from nightmares?”

He’s unable to stop the smallest flinch that confirms your speculations. You stand up, pushing the chair back to your desk.

“I get it,” you offer as consolation, although it doesn’t assure him as much as it piques his curiosity. “When I first came here, I had a rough time sleeping too. I only slept when I couldn’t stand anymore, and even Kafka was concerned - or well, as concerned as a woman like her could be.”

The synthesizer opens, revealing pre-made candies floating in its hold. Sunday recognizes them as the same ones Blade had walked out holding.

“When I found out Blade had the same problem - okay, well, not the same problem,” you correct yourself, “I started making these. After seeing them work so well on Blade, I figured I should take some too.”

Sunday tilts his head. “Blade has nightmares?”

“You can see it like that,” you say, bagging a couple candies with a wave of your hand. Thankfully, your hand doesn’t come in contact with the candies; otherwise, Sunday would leave them untouched in the corner of his room for all eternity. “But his ailment is far worse and more complicated than just that.”

Sunday briefly remembers the stories he’d read of the Xianzhou, including that of the curse its locals bear.

His gaze drops to his hands. “I see.” 

Sympathy tugs at his heartstrings. For a second, he is the Bronze Melodia again, listening to the plight of the weak with a careful ear. Now, Blade is by no means what he’d call weak, but knowing he suffers from such a cruel fate…

He looks over at you, brows furrowed slightly. Your back is turned, meaning he can’t see your expression.

Even the strongest have their vulnerabilities - this he knows well.

Then what does that make of you, who suffered like he did?

“You have nightmares too, then?” he asks gently.

“Had,” you’re quick to correct. “After a few Amber Eras, I got over them. I don’t take these anymore.”

There’s a clear edge in your tone that is chilling despite your otherwise easygoing voice. The message is clear - don’t push it.

Sunday tenses, his feathers bristling instinctively.

Right. He’s forgotten who you were - what you were. You may be kind to him now, but the two of you aren’t close, nor are you someone who needs his comfort. He is no longer the Bronze Melodia, and you are not his kin.

You’re a Stellaron Hunter - a criminal and a murderer.

You don’t need nor want his pity.

Your footsteps snap him out of his momentary moment of fear. You don’t look mad, or, well, anything, for that matter - just the same as usual. He could almost convince himself that nothing had happened at all.

The small mesh bag of candies is soft as you plop it in his palm.

“Don’t get too used to them, okay?” you sit down on the bed next to him, the mattress creaking as you do. He shifts his wing away so that it doesn’t drape over you like a blanket. “You can overdose on these, and it’s not fun.”

Did you know from experience? Sunday wonders, but decides against asking. He doesn’t want to push his chances.

“I’ll try,” he assures, folding his wings behind him.

“Looks like you’re already getting used to them,” you comment, leaning back onto your hands to look at his wings one last time. Sunday hums as you hold a hand out and run it along his plumage. “By the way, I’ve been meaning to ask. Do Halovians purr?”

Sunday’s mind malfunctions as he tries to process your words. “Excuse me?”

You drop your hand to look at him innocently. “Back when I was helping your wings out, you were making this purring sound, like a cat. I don’t know if you noticed but I wanted to ask-”

His wing smacks you over the head in embarrassment.

<< previous || series masterlist || next chapter >>

reblogs w comments are appreciated !!

[luvvixu]

mind over matter pt. 4

synopsis: witness how your marriage was bound to fall apart with you on the front seat and your husband gojo had missed the show—now, he gotta figure out the story on his own.

content: arrange marriage au, angst, husband!gojo, mean!gojo, mention of blood, strong languages, some unsettling scenarios, emotional trauma, read at your own risk

a/n: ok, im such a bad author now huhu, i always broke my promises about updating the new chapter :((( should've just wrote in advance but i'm afraid i don't have that enough free time oqsjjanswjaj anyways, here's the anticipated chapter!! THANK YOU FOR Y'ALL PATIENCE <3 MWUHEHEHHEEHHE

previous / masterlist / next

the next day comes and you've got yourself some visitors. megumi, yuuji, nobara, maki, and inumaki was in your room and they were all seated around you as you talk.

panda and your two third years were not around at the moment because this is a non-sorcerer hospital and people would freak out to see a big ‘talking’ panda. during your two third years, they were out of town and were on a mission but they still text you to get well and even send you some fresh flowers.

“wait, i still can't believe that he's your husband.” nobara couldn't explain his shock at the revelation. out of all, she didn't think that her goofy teacher was someone's husband.

you chuckled at her reactions as you turned your gaze on megumi, who's still his mouth hanging. “megumi, i thought you're getting a hint?” you tease the boy. although it was true, you actually thought he already had an idea because you've known him for almost his entire life and even once lived with you as a kid.

“no…” was only his answer.

“so, gojo-sensei was the one you're talking about when you said that he was a busy man. most of his job requires being out of town. but he never fails to shower you with love and he is making sure that you two would still communicate despite his busy schedule?” your eyes widened when yuuji literally just said what you had said from before, word-by-word!

“i—i supposed he is.” everyone in the room sweat dropped at your answer.

what do you mean you supposed?!

“y/n-sensei, is it okay if we ask your baby?” maki chooses the gentlest approach because she heard that post-pregnancy can make the mother quite crikey, sensitive, and is prone to depression. but to her relief, you respond to her warmly.

“oh, the baby is being treated since they're premature. i really can't wait to meet them once i get better. but right now, shoko was the only one who had seen my baby.” you smiled softly at the thought of your baby.

“gojo-sensei still hadn't seen the baby?” maki’s eyes went wide.

you nodded. “yeah, he said we should go together so i must heal quickly for that to happen.”

the door suddenly opened and it revealed your husband with food in his hand. you smiled at the packages not because you're hungry, but because you had finally persuaded satoru to go out and leave you even for just a few minutes.

how did you do it? well, you just give him an earful after what he did yesterday night and he's like;

“i don't know how you did it but you should've just gone to the convenience store or the hospital canteen just for an oatmeal and eggs. and look, i'm not upset over the fact that you just had the ‘very easy to get’ food delivered on this doorstep. what concerns me is you seem not to trust me very well to handle myself— well in fact i've been doing it since i was a kid and blah, blah, blah, blah…” it was your turn to yap but a little longer than he did. you even probably bought up some of his minor mistakes like not taking out the trash on random sunday night.

and he was like, “i'm sorry. i won’t do it again ( •̯́ ^ •̯̀)”

“y'all done backstabbing me?” satoru teasingly smiled at you all.

“oh, we're just getting started. so why don't you take a seat and hear us out?” you patted the empty space of your bed beside you.

satoru playfully huffed and gave the foods to his students and let them distribute it themselves. sitting beside you, he gave you the separate plastic with food and helped you feed yourself. the two of you had your moment with you telling satoru to just let you be and stop feeding you like a kid, but satoru was like nuh uh—and it goes on and on.

meanwhile, the students watch you two with surprise in their eyes. they still couldn't digest the fact that you two had managed to hide your marriage for like five years or so. and out of all spouses out there, they couldn't believe their eyes that you married a guy that is a total opposite of you.

“i still cannot really believe that you're married and have a baddie wife.” nobara almost never tears her gaze towards you two.

“yeah, much more is that they look so in love!” yuuji agrees to what nobara said as his words made you two stop bickering instantly.

like a cold water being poured, you two were suddenly experiencing a reality check that this so-called in love was very far from the two of you actually is. coughing slightly to hide his awkwardness and nervousness, he just let himself chuckle. while you? you're an expert at this, you maintain a smiley expression and wordlessly (and also forcefully) agrees to what the boy said.

“oh my, do we?” putting a hand on your cheek, you smiled with your eyes closed. your act looks so legit but satoru has seen this multiple side—he knew this facade was all fake.

maki suddenly puts herself into attention by calling your name. “anyway y/n-sensei, i've noticed you two don't have a ring—” before she could even finish her sentence, you already beat her to it.

“that's because the two of us, mostly him, are constantly fighting curses and both involve using our hands when we use our techniques. it would be risky to wear it and we're scared that we might get it lost or damaged.” you explain meticulously.

you watch the students agree to your explanation, while satoru is looking at you with meaning. you stared back at him too, hoping that he would get your telepathic message.

“alright guys, your y/n-sensei needs to rest now. we'll just see you guys soon or you can all just drop by tomorrow after your training.” satoru called everyone's attention by clapping his hands then started to playfully shoo the students.

you watch them pack their things and wave you a happy goodbye, in which you return their enthusiasm as well. when they all left, you let out a sigh and started to gently lie your body on the bed. satoru, who was done cleaning just now, sit at the end of your bed and carefully massage your legs.

“did you have fun with them?” you just lazily hum at his question and proceed to rest your eyes.

“i…i'm surprised you managed to convince them about our marriage.” satoru continued quietly.

opening one of your eyes and looking at him, you said, “of course, i've been doing it to a lot of people for the past five years.”

that alone made him shut up.

satoru looked down to his hands, which were still busy massaging your legs. you've noticed that his eyes were casted down and his behavior was somewhat familiar to you, he's feeling something that is related to guilt and regret.

clicking your tongue, you're in no mood to deal with his behavior today. so to find a solution to this problem, you just put yourself to sleep and let all of this just go on without a single care.

it has been two days and you're getting better day by day. today was probably the bestest day so far because you're about to finally see your own baby!

“calm down, mama. do you want your stitches to open again?” shoko holds your knees to stop it from shaking anxiously as you were currently sitting just right outside the neonatal intensive care unit (nicu) where your baby was.

you understand that the doctors need to prepare the room first before you all come in, but you wished that they speed it up.

“but sho, i'm finally seeing my baby!” you squeal at your friend who just ruffles your hair and tells you to be patient—in which you definitely can't.

meanwhile, satoru, who was standing beside you while you and shoko were sitting together, has been eyeing you since this whole waiting. he understands that you're excited about seeing the baby because he is too, he is excited. but he couldn't help but to feel a sensation that you would rather share your excitement with others than him.

he knows that he sounds ridiculous and undeserving to say that in the first place after what he did to put you through, but he still couldn't help it and he wouldn't even dare to say it to you.

the door of the nicu just opened and it revealed the doctor who was wearing protective gear to keep bacterias and viruses from entering the room and harm the baby. before he lets you all in, he first instructs you all to change the same gear as him and then proceeds to give you all some explanation in which you actively listen and take notes.

and after that, he finally lets you go inside.

the moment your eyes traveled on a crib, you saw your child laying down there with some breathing apparatus that is connected to their little body. you could feel your eyes swell with hot tears as you inch yourself towards the bundle of joy who's their crib was also protected with glass and only small holes on both sides were there.

satoru and shoko watched you with pure warmth at your sight—it was a nice scene of mother's love. finally, a tear escapes your eyes the moment you get a whole view of your child.

“isn't he pretty?” shoko said beside you, someone who you didn't notice had come near you.

you gasp, “he? m-my baby is a boy?” your cries go even harder, but it was just pure happiness. you couldn't bring yourself to tear your gaze away from your child even though he looks fragile for being premature but you love him dearly.

“can i touch him?” you look at the doctor who assisted you earlier without caring that you might look like a crying mess. you're far more thrilled to be with your child than to be pretty at this moment.

the doctor smiled at you and he agreed. he pointed out the small hole on the side, telling you to stick your hands out to feel your baby. you do what he said with your shaky hands, and when your fingertips touch his warm skin—you feel like you could die from the burst of euphoria.

“my b-baby, my baby is n-now here!” you really can't hold your emotions back as you keep on passing your fingers through your baby's arm until it reaches his closed hands where you slightly and gently open it for him to grab index finger. and when he does, your smile becomes even wider.

“hi baby~ this is me, your mommy. it's so nice to finally see you.” you whispered softly, hoping that despite the glass, he could hear your words.

this is the bestest day of your life. your baby was here and that's all you need.

the scene continues to unfold with you still getting emotional and shoko was just watching you with a smile on her face. while satoru, the father of the child, the husband of the mother, was a little distant but he could still see the baby. he was all quiet and couldn't bring himself to utter a word but he's not speechless.

his eyes behind those glasses were trailed on the child, but most of his gazes were on you. satoru watches you become all smiley—this is probably the happiest smile he had seen on your lips for the past years of your marriage.

and he would absolutely never forgive himself if he breaks it—but he already did.

shoko notices his odd behavior and promptly leaves your side for a while (but you're busy having a baby talk with your baby to notice her leaving) to go talk to him.

“what? you're just gonna stand there and watch y/n?” yup. still the same as before, hostile towards the man. satoru let out a sigh and didn't give her attention. instead, he walked towards y/n and just focused on his family.

“you’re so tiny!” you continue to cooed at your son who keeps on moving slightly which is a good sign that your son is responsive and fighting. you also noticed that satoru was now right beside you and is looking at your son too with adoration tinted in his eyes.

“i don't think i could let myself be away from him anymore.” you said. your cheeks were now hurting from constant smiling but you don't mind.

satoru only looks at you briefly because his attention was now on his son, fully. “hello, it was nice finally meeting you.” his eyes trailed on his own flesh and blood with the most care of all.

on the other hand, you're not dumb to not notice that satoru was acting hesitant towards this scene and you knew what his reason was. you think that satoru thinks that he was undeserving to be here, and you're correct about his assumption.

but as a woman who grew up with an experience of being inside a shattered family, you absolutely would not want that to happen to your own child. and as much as you would also like to satoru be away at least for now because you're still that sensitive about what he had said during those conversations in the clinic and hallway, you respect his role as a father.

you'd give him a chance to prove his worth as a father to your child, but he's far worse to have a chance to prove his worth as a husband to you. if he messes this up real bad and without any proper explanation, this will be all over—satoru would no longer have you and your child as his own family.

“stick your hand on his hole, that way you could feel him.” you guided his hand towards the hole that you had said before and watched his hands turn shakey as he reached for the baby.

once satoru had finally experienced a skin-to-skin touch with his baby, he wanted to cry so badly but he didn't allow himself to, at least not yet. he felt like this was one of the best moments in his existence.

satoru would like to punch himself for questioning the baby for his plans as he seemingly thinks it would affect him. but just when he look and touch his baby, all of his recollection about the mixed emotions he felt when the baby is on the board has suddenly vanished and it was replaced with gratefulness and adoration for both of you.

it was like a full 360 degrees turn was done after the early birth of his first born. plus, he had seen you be ever so happy that you are with him. and deep inside him, satoru deniably hopes that this kid, this child, can at least help him save this marriage that was destined to fail and doomed.

because he now finally realizes that you're slowly wrapping him around your tiny fingers.

your tears had made him be a better person, your recent experience had made him behave. it almost cost you and your baby's wife just for him to realize the importance of your five years of marriage, and he's planning to tell you that soon.

“have you finally decided what name we should give him?” shoko asked you and she didn't fail to see your eyes sparkle at the mention of name.

ah yes, baby names.

that was something that a mother and father should decide together because it comes very crucial because the name that your baby will get is a symbol of you two's relationship. but the thing is, you and your husband hadn't talked about a single thing or just anything related to this matter.

that's probably why you're still embarrassed whenever you think about nanami accidentally seeing you open a website into one of the school's computers about unique baby names with its meaning.

you're four months pregnant at that time and you're spending your free time in a teacher's lounge. you're very invested in your mini research to the point that you didn't notice an old friend peeking at your screen. you actually only notice his presence when you're about to stretch but accidentally bump his torso, and to your surprise, he was there.

and then the rest becomes a story and history. nanami helped you pick baby names for both genders or even unisex until you came out with…

“kazuki. let's name him that.” a soft smile was decorated on your lips as you watched satoru, who's looking at you, plays with the hands of your son.

“kazuki…that's a nice name, y/n.” satoru said happily. however, you can see his disappointment behind those words and you know why. you didn't even invite him to search for your baby's name because why would you?

“does it have any special meaning?” shoko asked you.

you nodded and said, “of course, kazuki means hope of peace—and i really need that.”

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[part 5 will be just there right around the corner — ©luvvixu2024]

[literaila]

ALSO I feel like Megumi has been on this engagement ring secret for a long time. Gojo took him to buy the ring under the guise of “father & son bonding time” and had to DRAGGG Megumi from the house. But once Megs was told what was going on, he took it a lot more seriously, and Satoru couldn’t help but be a little bit more serious, too.

“hey, megumi,” satoru pockets his wallet, getting his glasses off the entryway table. “c’mon, we’re leaving.”

megumi, who is sitting on the couch, flipping through some dumb book, frowns. “for what?”

“a mission.”

“but i thought you said—“

“where are you guys going?” you ask satoru, turning down the hallway. you’re fixing a bracelet and walking over to him to readjust his buttons (he did it wrong on purpose).

“a mission.”

you raise a brow, lips pursed. “i thought we were saving those for weekends.”

“i don’t control the curses, sweetheart,” satoru grins. “you’re so pretty.”

“i’m immune to your sweet talking.”

“impossible.”

megumi is slipping on his boots, frowning at the two of you. “you said nothing until sunday last week.”

satoru kisses your head, stepping passed you to throw his arm around megumi’s shoulder. “this is a special trip,” he says easily.

megumi rolls his eyes, pushing him off. but he walks towards the door anyway, not bothering to argue.

“don’t be too hard on him,” you tell satoru, giving him a look only he knows.

and you really are pretty—with your hair a bit messy and your eyes crinkled. the little lines by your lips as you attempt to refrain a smile.

satoru ruffles your hair, walking with his back turned out the door. “whatever you say, dear.”

“be safe!” you call to megumi, waving to him.

“bye, mom.”

but as soon as the door is shut megumi turns. “where are we actually going?”

“what do you mean?”

“i know there’s no mission,” he say, flatly.

“and how would you know that?”

“because it’s down season and you’re a terrible liar. and you would’ve told me already because mom likes to know before we go.”

gojo hums, considering it. “that’s… true. and i’m not a terrible liar.”

“uh-huh.”

“i need your help with something.”

megumi makes a face. “really?”

“yes, really. will you stop making that face?”

“what face?”

“your ‘i know better than you,’ face.”

“well, i do.”

gojo smirks, clasping his hands together as he walks. “exactly why i need your help!”

megumi groans, shaking his head, but he follows satoru—because, really, what else is he supposed to do?

and he lets gojo talk the whole way there. about mostly nothing, with a few details about jujutsu that megumi makes a mental note of. it’s only when gojo turns to open the door of a small shop that he finally stops talking.

megumi looks up, then winces. “you’re not buying tsumiki more earrings, are you? i was the one that had to deal with her crying last time. for an hour.”

“pfft,” gojo holds the door open for him. “i’m saving that for sixteen.”

megumi sighs but walks into the jewelry store, immediately hit with the smell of plastic and burning metal. “what are you getting, then?”

“what are we getting,” gojo corrects, suddenly looking a bit giddy. “i need a ring.”

“a ring?”

“mm-hmm.”

megumi scoffs. “for what?”

“your mom.”

megumi frowns, looking over to gojo—to where he’s perched over a glass case, carefully inspecting an array of cut diamond rings. “like—like an engagement ring?”

gojo only hums.

megumi blinks. he’s known that the two of you were together since he was at least eight—even if you wouldn’t admit it then—so he shouldn’t be shocked. he’s watched you roll your eyes at gojo fondly every time he refers to you as his wife… and still.

tsumiki would be on the ground if she found out, he thinks. no way she could ever keep this secret.

though megumi sees how much gojo loves you. he might’ve been young, but he’s watched the two of you mend together like steel. watched your lives combine and your hearts attach.

he couldn’t imagine anyone else quite suited for you.

and, though he’ll deny it, in the pit of his heart there’s a yearning for the type of love that you and gojo have. the understanding and complete confidence in each other. you’ve made him witness to your story, and it’s not something the boy will ever easily forget.

but he doesn’t tell gojo that. only takes a step towards the case, grunting. “took you long enough,” he mutters, and says nothing else.

they look for a long time. megumi doesn’t know a lot about rings—and neither does gojo. but they both know you, and very well.

they argue over the difference between a pear and oval cut, debating how big the rock should be. megumi thinks it should be more intricate, and gojo only wants the most expensive, eye catching ones.

he frowns at the boy. “my wife needs the best, fushiguro.”

“she’s not even your wife yet.”

gojo tries to get megumi to try some on, and when megumi refuses he pouts for about three minutes.

“but you have such dainty fingers,” he whines, “they’re probably the same size as hers.”

megumi almost hits him for that one.

but in the end, gojo is tapping his fingers against the glass counter with both excitement and anxiety, unable to keep still.

megumi might be staring a little bit. but it’s amusing to watch a grown man absolutely fall apart over a ring smaller than his palm.

“do you think she’ll like it?” gojo asks, eventually, after he’s grown too tired of the silence.

megumi smirks, so small that it’s barely noticeable. “maybe.”

[steddieasitgoes]

Detours & Second Chances

written for @steddie-week Day 5 prompt: Reunion / Getting Back Together Rating: T | wc: 3545 | no cw Another big thank you to @sidekickjoey and @thefreakandthehair for giving this a beta read for me! Read on ao3

Steve had high hopes for this road trip. 

Just him, the twins, and the wide open roads with the promise of the beach and Disneyland on the horizon. He knew better than to plan it down to the second, especially when traveling with Mabel and Ollie, but he did hope to keep to some kind of schedule. A few nights here, a couple of nights there, a handful of free time hours carved into nearly every day so the kids could pick which tacky roadside attraction they could visit and then gloat to Aunt Robin about seeing. 

What Steve hadn’t planned for was the Winnebago going up in smoke four and a half hours from Disneyland on I-15. 

The good news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada, and not thirty minutes later in the middle of the Nevada-California desert. The bad news is that it happened just as they entered Las Vegas, Nevada on a Sunday afternoon when everyone was trying to leave. 

Steve expects the drivers around him to curse and flip him off. At the very least, he imagines them shaking their heads in disapproval as they slowly inch past the smoking Winnebago broken down in the middle of the three-lane highway. And there is some of that, honking horns and judgmental gazes, enough that he has to explain to Mabel and Ollie that showing someone your middle finger is not nice and no you shouldn’t do it to each other. But there’s also a handful of Sunday travelers who take pity on him. 

Two truck drivers manage to get their rigs off onto the shoulder and then mosey their way over to see if they can help Steve identify why the RV is smoking. A woman in a mini-van full of preteens in sports jerseys offers him an entire ice chest full of snacks for Mabel and Ollie. Some good Samaritan even makes the half-mile hike to the nearest pay phone to call for a tow truck so Steve doesn’t have to leave the kids or make the track himself with them following behind him. 

Forty-five minutes later, they all climb into a yellow taxi while Winnie the Winnebago gets towed away. For a moment, he thinks he’s ruined the entire vacation, but listening to Mabel and Ollie talk about how cool it was to watch the “toe man” do his job eases the guilt. 

Unfortunately, the repair shop is nowhere near as exciting as standing in the middle of I-15 — at least, that’s what Ollie tells Steve five minutes after they’ve walked into the garage. Steve tries his best to keep everyone’s spirits up in between filing out paperwork and bargaining with the mechanic over the price of the repairs. He lets the kid raid the vending machine and spread it all out on the worn plastic chairs in the makeshift lobby like some kind of five-star buffet. It’s mainly cookies and chips, a few candy bars, and a granola bar Mabel even generously spent $1.10 on for him. 

It’s not the worst meal they’ve had on the trip — that honor goes to the gas station in Kearney, Nebraska, and the hot dogs he knew were a bad idea — but it’s definitely the least nutritious. And, in hindsight, it’s not the best idea now that Mabel and Ollie are hyped up on sugar in a small space with no central air conditioning. He gets it. He’s almost at his wit’s end, too, and he has several decades of patience over them. 

He’s hot and tired and so frustrated, he’d break down and cry if he could, but he doesn’t want to upset the kids or ruin the day more than it’s already been ruined. Instead, he puts on his brave Dad Face™, leaves his pager number with the mechanic’s receptionist, and takes the kids to explore Las Vegas. 

The city wasn’t on their list. It’s not kid-friendly, and the July heat is anything but welcoming, but thankfully, they luck out and stumble across a hybrid game and music store a few blocks away from the repair shop.

The bell above their door announces their entrance to the quiet storefront as the sweet, sweet relief of the AC hits them. Steve closes his eyes, soaking in the cool air for a moment before Mabel and Ollie are tugging on his hands, trying to drag him in different directions. 

Steve knows he should put an end to their bickering that borders on full-on sibling bullying, especially judging by the way they’ve dropped his hand in favor of pinching each other’s arms, but he gets distracted when a figure emerges from the back of the shop. 

The footsteps are uneven, which makes sense when an ornate cane enters Steve’s line of sight. He studies it, taking in the impressive woodwork and paint job — Max’s own can is pretty spectacular, but this one is a close second. Soon, his eyes drift from the cane to the hand holding it, a ring on each finger. Silver and gaudy and eerily similar to—

“Holy shit,” the voice says. “Are my eyes giving out on me too, or is Steve Harrington really standing in my shop right now?” 

Steve’s eyes shoot up to meet the man’s face — to meet Eddie’s face. It’s been years, shit, almost a decade he thinks, but Eddie looks the same. Older, sure. A few wrinkles around his eyes and a softer belly. But he’s still him. Unruly curls barely contained in a bun at the base of his neck, mischievous eyes, and a smile that makes Steve’s stomach flip in a way it hasn’t done in too long. Yup, definitely him.

“Eddie?”

Eddie laughs, throwing his head back with the same carelessness as he had at twenty years old. Only this time, when he rights himself, he has to reach a hand up to his neck to massage the ache. “Man, this is some cosmic, universe shit!” 

“At least it’s the good kind this time,” Steve jokes. 

Eddie goes for a full-on hug, Steve an awkward side one, and as a result, they end up with their bodies smushed against each other, arms pinned between each other in the world’s worst hug of all time. But it’s also the greatest, as far as Steve’s concerned. 

When they separate, Eddie gives Steve a quick once-over before shaking his head again. “So, what brings you all the way to Sin City?” 

“A family road trip.” 

“Ah, so the six nuggets and a Winnebago dream came true, then?” Eddie muses. 

“More like two nuggets, a piece of shit rental that’s in a repair shop after crapping out on me on I-15, and a co-pilot that doubles as my son’s emotional support stuffed animal,” Steve says, then smiles. “But I can’t complain.” 

“Wheeler never jumped on the Harrington Express?” 

Steve’s interrupted by Ollie running at him with a vinyl record thrust above his head. Mabel appears a moment later, holding a giant box in her arms that’s clearly too heavy for her. She passes it to Steve, who hands it over to Eddie, who has taken refuge behind the glass counter. As soon as the kids appear, they’re gone again. Steve shouts after them to stay together and not to touch anything. It goes in one ear and out the other if the loud crash that follows a moment later is anything to go off of. Steve winces and looks at Eddie apologetically. 

“I promise I’ll pay for whatever they break. They’re a little stir-crazy from being stuck at the repair shop all day.” 

Eddie doesn’t look worried about it in the slightest. In fact, Steve’s willing to bet he didn’t even hear the crash, judging by the fond look on his face. It’s a soft smile, almost bittersweet if he had to put a name to it. It looks out of place on his face — almost too earnest, which makes no sense because Eddie is the most earnest guy Steve’s ever known. 

“Eddie?” 

“Huh, what?” Eddie blinks himself back to the present. When he shakes his head, the elastic holding his hair back snaps, sending his curls cascading down to his shoulders. It’s easy now to see the hints of gray peppered into the locks that used to keep Steve up at night — occasionally still keeps him up. 

Steve gestures toward the row where Mabel and Ollie are frantically trying to restack things on the shelves. This time, Eddie snorts and meets Steve's gaze with that familiar crooked smile. 

“Don’t worry about them. S’just boxes and shit.” 

Steve nods and then grabs a pen out of the cup on the glass counter. He twirls it between his fingers, something about the rhythmic motion calming the silly nerves running wild in his body right now. 

It’s just Eddie. 

“Nance would kill you for even thinking she’s a part of this circus,” Steve says, then panics. “To answer your question from before. No misses at all actually. Or misters either,” Steve says before he chickens out. 

Eddie left before he realized that little fun fact about himself. It was ironic (and tragic), considering he’s the reason Steve even realized it to begin with. Chalk it up to cosmic, universe shit — the bad kind that time. 

“Cause that could be an option to, you know. Obviously you know, but it’s an option for me too in case you didn’t know and—“

“Woah, breathe, Steve.” 

Steve takes a slow, deep inhale. His exhale is strong enough to send a few of Eddie’s stray curls fluttering before settling back amongst the rest. “Sorry.” 

“Stop apologizing!” Eddie throws his hand across the counter, squeezing Steve’s wrist, 

It’s silly, but something about the simple touch relaxes the nervous energy that’s taken over him ever since Eddie emerged from the back. A part of Steve wants to blame the relief on the touch, but he knows better. Knows it has everything to do with finally telling Eddie about this part of him he helped him discover. 

Steve’s been out to just about everyone he cares about, and now he’s certain he’s told them all. 

“So no misses or misters,” Eddie says, before hiding his growing smile behind a curl. “What about Buckley? Is she on the great American family road trip with you?” 

“Robin refuses to get into Winnebagos after, well, you know.” 

“Can’t say I blame her for that one.” 

“It’s just me and the kids. Mabel and Ollie. They’re my kids…I mean, well, obviously, they’re mine, and anyone who says they’re not are fucking idiots, but they’re not blood mine or whatever people say.” Christ, he’s rambling again. “I adopted them. Actually, I was supposed to be their temporary foster parent. I was in my second year as a social worker, and they were two and six months old when they came in the middle of a Saturday night and we had no one on standby. They came home with me, and then they just never left.” 

Somewhere in his rambling, Eddie made himself comfortable, pillowing his chin on his hands, elbows sinking into the giant mouse pad that’s stretched out on top of the glass counter. He’s dropped the curl, his bright smile on full display, dimple, and everything when he looks at Steve now. 

“I love a good foster fail story,” he cooed. “I have a few myself. Fosters that turned into full-on adoptions. I mean not human kids, cats. And a few dogs. Even a bird. But they’re my kids, you know. I mean, not that what you did is the same thing as me or anything, but I… I’m just going to stop talking now.”

This time, it’s Steve's hand that breaks the barrier between them, reaching out to pat Eddie on the shoulder. A reassuring thing that he hopes conveys that he’s not offended. Just in case, he spells it out for him verbally too. 

“I get it. Kids mean a lot of things to different people. If you say they’re your kids, they’re your kids,” he says, smiling. “Robin has a plant, Ferguson. When she first got it she carried it around in Ollie’s baby bjorn because she needed to ‘bond’ with it.” 

Eddie laughs, this time hard enough that the case between them vibrates. “Lesbians, and their plants, man.” 

“She rescued it from her ex, who was drowning it.” 

“We’re just all patron saints of lost things, aren’t we?” 

“Guess so.” Steve smiles, then adjusts his own stance so he’s leaning against the counter. Something pops in his back, and for once, he doesn’t make an excuse. Eddie knows all about their aches and pains — the way their bodies are thirty years older than they should be, thanks to their teenage years. He runs a steady hand through his hair, hoping beyond hope that it’s not as greasy as it feels and then turns his attention to Eddie. “What about you? Game and record store sounds like a pretty sweet deal.” 

Eddie blows out air in a whoosh and reaches for another curl. “I mean, yeah, it’s pretty cool. Closest I could get to being a rockstar, I guess.” 

“Do you still play?” 

“Occasionally. There’s a dive bar a few streets over that I perform sometimes. No band, though. At least, not yet. I’m giving myself a few more years; let the gray really come in,” Eddie says, fluffing his curls. “And then I’ll join one of those mid-life crisis dad bands.” 

“Solid plan.” He fiddles with the pen again, contemplating if he should ask what he wants, too. Screw it. Who knows when he’s going to see Eddie again — if it’ll ever happen again. It’s best not to leave anything on the table. “What about a partner?” 

“Me?” Eddie asks, pointing to himself before laughing. “Nope. No partner. No lovers either, really. It’s just me and the petting zoo. And Wayne, when the old man makes the trip out to visit me.” 

Eddie being alone all these years shouldn’t make Steve happy. He should want him to be settled by now, grossly in love with someone who makes him feel special like he deserves. But Steve’s heart is a traitor, and his brain is no better, already imagining ten different ways he could change that. 

Had he known Eddie’s been in Vegas alone all this time, he would have visited a lot sooner. Hell, he would have made this their final destination — he’s sure he could find something family-friendly here for Mabel and Ollie. There’s a lake around here or some shit, right? They could have—

“Shit,” Steve says, reaching for his beeping pager. The repair shop number appears on the small screen. “Could I borrow your phone? This is the repair shop.” 

“I suppose I could make an exception on my no-customers rule,” Eddie teases. “Phones in my office, straight back there.” 

Steve nods and rounds the counter towards the backroom but stops short. The kids. He almost forgot about the kids. “Do you mind keeping an eye on them?” Steve asks, tilting his head to Mabel and Ollie who have finally picked up the mess they created. 

“Of course! Don’t worry about them. I’m great with kids.” 

“I remember.” 

___

Eddie’s office isn’t unlike his teenage bedroom Steve spent many nights in. It has his typical brand of messiness but with an added layer of professionalism. Like, there’s an honest-to-God filing cabinet in the corner, but next to it is a three-foot-tall Yoda statue.  Papers lay haphazardly on the desk beside a calculator. 

There are posters all over the walls — some Steve recognizes, some he doesn’t — and endless photographs in mismatched frames. At least three wallet-sized frames with pictures of his pets — kids — sit on the desk. There’s one of Wayne and Eddie on his graduation day on the bookshelfnbeside photos of him with Dustin and some of the other kids over the years. 

He even spots himself amongst the familiar faces — a polaroid they took one summer in Hawkins. It feels like a lifetime ago, but a part of Steve remembers what it was like to have Eddie’s arm slung around him like that with the sun beating down their faces, causing them to squint in the photo because Jonathan refused to shoot directly into the sunlight. 

Steve gives himself another second to soak in Eddie’s office, searching for any other details he can find to fill in the years he’s missed — a pride flag draped over a chair, his business license framed on the wall, packs of half-used nicotine gum instead of cartons of cigarettes. Finally, he makes it to the phone and punches in the number of the repair shop. 

___

When Steve resurfaced twenty minutes later, the neon “open” sign that flickered in the window had been shut off. Eddie’s abandoned his post behind the counter, taking up space at a table in the game section of the store. Mabel and Ollie are sitting on either side of him, listening intently with wide eyes as he moves two figures across a board toward a hoard of waiting miniature figures. 

“I leave you for twenty minutes, and you’re already corrupting them with your nerd games?” Steve teases, ruffling both Mabel and Ollie’s hair in the process. 

Eddie scoffs. “You expect me to believe Dustin hasn’t put them through D&D boot camp yet? Please.” 

“Your stories are nothing like Dustin’s,” Ollie says, voice full of awe. 

“Yeah, he always wants to skip the fun adventure stuff and get straight to the battles,” Mabel chimes in. “That's why we like it when Daddy gets to be in charge.” 

Eddie’s head swivels so fast that the irrational part of Steve’s brain fears it’s going to fly right off. “You DM for them?” 

 “I wouldn’t call it Dungeon Master-ing,” Steve says, grabbing the back of his neck. The room feels ten times hotter all of a sudden. The AC must have shut off, he reasons. There’s no other explanation for his sudden flush. Not at all. “I really just make sh— stuff up.” 

“He’s the best make-believer! You should play with us sometime. Like tonight!” 

“Mabel, Eddie’s busy running this store; he can’t just stop to play with you. And besides, we have to get going soon.” 

“They fixed Winnie?” Ollie asks, jumping up from his seat. 

Steve sighs. “Not yet. That’s why we have to leave. I need to find somewhere for us to sleep tonight that’s—

“—I have a guest room.”

Steve blinks. Is Eddie offering his place to them? His hearing may be spotty lately, but he’s never imagined entire phrases before. Which means—

“I mean if you want,” Eddie says sheepishly this time. “I have a hoard of kittens running around right now, so if you’re allergic, it might not be the best place but—“

“Kittens!” Mabel squeals before rapidly asking Eddie a hundred questions about them, but he doesn’t stand a chance of answering. 

“Can’t we stay at his house, Daddy?” 

“I really do have a spare bedroom and bathroom. Plus, a couch and a semi-stocked fridge. And I wouldn’t charge you. The hotels around here are going to sense your need and charge you an arm and a leg, trust me.”

Steve would be stupid to turn it down. A free stay in an actual house. A meal he can cook with his own two hands that don’t involve a shitty stove that gives out after a few minutes. Not to mention, a shower with actual hot water. 

Plus, it comes with the added bonus of a few more hours with Eddie. Yeah, there’s not a chance in hell he’s turning that down. Not again. 

“Alright, yeah. Let’s do it.” Mabel and Ollie shout in excitement, spinning around the table. Eddie might not have the same energy level as them to join them, but his smile says it all. 

“It’ll be just like old times.” 

“Wait! You guys know each other?”

Steve laughs first, but soon Eddie’s cackle joins him and it really does feel like old times again. “Of course, I know him. What? You think I would let us stay in a stranger’s house? Don’t you know me at all?” 

___

Three days later, Steve finds himself behind the wheel of Winnie the Winnebago as she makes her grand return to I-15. When he glances over his shoulder as the traffic crawls for miles in front of him, he spots Mabel and Ollie throwing Fruit Loops at each other to see who can catch the most in their mouth. And when he looks to his right, Eddie’s there — feet up on the dash, hands protectively clutching Ollie’s teddy bear as if he’s hoping it offers him the same comfort it does for the six-year-old — handsome as ever.

“Didn’t think I’d ever be back in one of these,” he says fondly. “Especially not with you behind the wheel.” 

“Really?” Steve lets the corners of his lips twitch upward. Doesn’t try to fight the blush he knows is creeping across his cheeks. “‘Cause this is all I’ve thought about for years.” 

[userlando]

Okay but imagine, Lando coming home after a triple header expecting you to be at your own home. He's tired and honestly wants to cry a little because you're not there. So, when he walks into his room to see you in his bed, deep asleep, wearing only his shirt and nothing else, he can't help but curl up close to you and hold you

oh I was saving this in my ask box to write on a day when I felt a little gloomy, just a little something for you as a thanks for dropping this fluffy thing in my lap 🤍

homecoming (748 words) lando norris/fem!reader fluff

The house is dark when Lando steps over the threshold, his chest feels a little heavy and his throat tight like he’s two seconds away from crying and he doesn’t really know why.

He assumes it’s an array of different things. He’s been away for three weeks, performance average as he fights to keep his composure on the race tracks and he knows it’s finally time for a break when he drops to P10 on Sunday. Usually, he’d sleep it off at the hotel and then catch a flight to his next destination, but he finds himself too antsy and anxious to spend another second away from home, so he books a flight the same evening and gets his ass home.

His shoulders are drawn tight in tension, fingers itching to grab his keys to his McLaren and drive straight to your place but he holds himself back. He knows you’ve had it equally as rough as him, struggling with your work and his absence only adds onto the stress you’re carrying on your shoulders.

Lando feels like shit, mood dropping even lower when he thinks of you. He kicks his shoes off to the side, knowing that Max would yell at him in the morning for not storing them away like a normal person but he can’t bring himself to care. His body yearns for his bed, with freshly washed sheets because you always do that. Tidy up his room and wash his shit, knowing that he likes the scent of freshly washed cotton to come home to.

He smiles fondly, chest tight when he spots the empty grocery bags in the kitchen; recalling Max’s text earlier in the day where he’d reassured Lando that you were okay, telling him that he was out shopping for groceries with you because you’d insisted on Lando coming home to a stocked fridge.

The Brit feels his eyes well up, walking quietly across the hallway and pushing his door open. The bedside lamp is on, and it gives Lando pause as his eyes adjusts to the dim lights in the room. His eyes sweep across the unusually clean space, frown deepening on his face until he spots the lump under his covers, on his bed.

At first, he thinks it’s Max playing a prank on him and he almost walks over to punch a fist into whoever is laying there just for the sake of it. But then he spots the back of your head, sleeping face coming into view, the closer he walks.

Your soft breaths makes his throat close up, and he sniffles quietly because the rush of relief coursing through him is so overpowering that he cups his lower face with his shaking hand; taking a deep breath to steady himself.

He quickly sheds his clothes, abandoning his plans to shower in favour of crawling into bed. You don’t even twitch, even as he inches closer and lays on his side, face to face with you. You’re warm, clad in nothing but one of his Quadrant shirts and his heart wells over with love at the sight.

Your eyebrow moves, and Lando sucks his lower lip into his mouth because it’s starting to wobble in the massive rush of affection he feels for you. He doesn’t even care that he might potentially wake you up, scooting closer until he can wrap his arms and legs around you, pushing his face into the warm space of your throat where it’s connected to the shoulder and notching his head under your chin.

Lando can feel when you stir in your interrupted sleep, making a sleepy sound and exhaling through your nose that ruffles his hair but you don’t say anything as you wrap yourself around him in a similar fashion almost immediately. He’s thankful that you don’t even question his sudden need to be held, nor do you say anything when he sniffles quietly, only offering your comfort by bringing your hands up to play with his hair.

“Missed you.” You said quietly, voice a little thick with sleep and Lando wants to wrap the sound of it around him like a blanket.

He scoots closer, like if he tries enough, he can crawl into your skin and it makes you hide a smile in his curls.

“I missed you too.” He mumbles, words muffled in your neck and it tickles a little bit. “Never leaving you again.”

You both know it’s not possible, but you nod gently.

“Never.”

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

whew, I need a touch depraved lando asap 🥺 I hope you liked this lil thing 🤍 lmk what you thought!!

[alotofpockets]

Jealousy | Mary Earps

Pairing: Mary Earps x Reader

Summary: Mary introduces you to a few of your teammates but ends up getting jealous when you get along with them well.

Masterlist | Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k

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After a few months of dating Mary, she invited you over to her place to meet some of her England teammates. Since the girls played all over, you hadn't met many of them. You had already met her teammates at United on a few occasions, as you loved going to watch Mary play. So, the only familiar face next to your girlfriend’s would be her United teammate Ella Toone.

You ring Mary’s doorbell, and the girl opens the door with a big smile plastered on her face, “Hi baby.” She pulls you into a hug, and closes the door behind you. “How are you feeling?” You were sitting on the couch now, with Mary’s arm across the back of it. “I'm a little nervous about meeting your friends but overall I am doing well. How about you?” Mary’s arm wraps around your shoulder, “I’m doing good, and you don’t have to be nervous, they are going to love you.” Mary had just finished her sentence when the doorbell rang. 

A cheery Beth walked into the house, “Hi mate, it’s good to see you.” She hugged Mary at the door. Mary walked her in and introduced the two of you right away. You held out your hand for Beth to shake but the girl greeted you with a hug. “It’s so nice to meet you, Mary has been talking my ears off about you, and that says a lot as I am usually the talkative one.” The blonde jokes. “All good things I hope.” Beth places a hand on your shoulder, “Only good things, don’t you worry. Mary is heads over heels for you.” You blush at the words, hearing that Mary talked about you so highly to her friends meant a lot. 

You continue your conversation with Beth, getting to know each other a little better, while Mary heads to the door again. Leah walks in next and greets you with a hug, similar to Beth. “It’s good to meet you, y/n.” You smile at the girl, “Likewise.” Before Mary can sit down, the doorbell rings again. “So, the both of you play for the same club, right?” You ask Beth and Leah, who are now sitting with you on the couch. “Oh yeah, Beth and I go way back.” 

“Y/n!” Ella yells your way, as she rushes to give you a hug. “It’s so good to see you again. We missed you at the game on Sunday.” You heard a chuckle from behind Ella, “You’ve gotta at least let her breathe if you want her to let you know why she wasn’t there.” Ella realises then that she’s still hugging you tightly, ‘Right, sorry, I got too excited.” Alessia stepped forward and gave you a quick hug, “It’s nice to finally meet you, I’m Alessia. Don’t mind Tooney here, sometimes she forgets that people have lives outside of watching us play football.” The comment earns the girl a playful hit on the arm by none other than Ella herself. 

You were having a blast getting to know your girlfriend's teammates, the girls were very easy to like, and the conversation flowed easily. Alessia helped Mary in the kitchen with cooking, while Leah helped you set the table. Beth and Ella were deep into a discussion that no one was interested in interrupting. 

When the table is set, you walk into the kitchen to check if everything is going well. “You seem tense, darling.” Your hands instantly reach for Mary’s shoulders and you massage them slightly. “I forgot to buy the sauce for the pasta, and we have nothing in the pantry to make sauce with.” She says, letting out a frustrated sigh. “No worries, I will go to the store and get some right away.” You quickly peck her cheek, and head back to the living room. “Hey, I’m heading to the store really quick.” You tell Leah, “Do you want to tag along?” You subtly nod in Beth and Ella’s direction, who are still having a heated discussion. “Yes, please.” The girl jokes back to you.

The trip to the store was short, as the grocery store was right around the corner. You had asked Leah about her family, and she told you all about her little brother that was currently living in Australia. You could tell that she loved her family very much, and it was a joy to listen to her talk about them. The conversation was still going when you had arrived back at Mary's apartment. Leah follows you into the kitchen, so your conversation doesn’t need to stop. “Here you go, darling.” You say as you hand Mary the jar. You give her a quick kiss on her cheek, before you head back to the living room with Leah. 

Mary looks after you with a feeling a way she hadn’t felt before. She couldn’t pinpoint what it was either, so she decided to put her focus back on the food. When Mary and Alessia had plated the food, and set the plates down on the table, you and Leah were still deep in conversation. Of course, you stopped for a moment to thank the girls for the food, and for a quick toast, but you soon fell back into easy conversation with the striker. 

Unbeknownst to you, Mary kept glaring at you and Leah. You were too deep into the conversation to notice the change in her behaviour at first, but when your attention was pulled to the conversations around the table, you noticed that Mary wasn’t really joining in on the conversation. You place your hand down on her thigh, but unlike the usual smile or her hand meeting yours, the gesture was met with a stoic look. You made a mental note to ask her about it later, not wanting to get into anything while her teammates were over. 

The food was amazing, you thanked both Alessia and Mary again for their efforts in the kitchen. Everyone helped clean up, and soon after they were getting ready to head back home. Leah hands you her phone, “Here, put your number in, and I’ll send you those links.” You quickly type in your contact info, before handing her phone back, and hugging her goodbye. You also hug the rest of the girls, and thank everyone for a great night.

You wanted to cuddle up to your girlfriend the moment that the front door closed, but Mary walked away and sat down at the dinner table before you could. Taking a seat beside her, you put your hand on her knee. “What’s going on, darling?” She shrugs, “Why don’t you ask Leah?” Confusion takes over your face. “Why would I ask Leah, what’s going on with you?” You had never seen Mary like this before, and it worried you. “You’re clearly into her as the two of you talked the whole day, and I even saw you exchange phone numbers.”

It started to click for you then. “You’re jealous of Leah?” Her eyes shot up to yours. “Darling, I’ve been talking with Leah because I love you, you goober. I was just trying to get to know your friends. And for the number exchange, we were talking about some places we have travelled to, and she was going to recommend some places, so I could take you there. I’m sorry if it looked differently, darling. I promise that I only have eyes for you.” Mary’s demeanour changed when she realised that her jealousy was misplaced. 

“Oh, thank god.” She exhales and brings you in for a hug. “I was so scared you’d like her more, and that we would be over.” You shake your head. “Never going to happen, I have everything I’ve ever wanted with you by my side.” Hearing those words did Mary good. She connected your lips in a passionate kiss. Her previous jealousy meant that she wanted to show you how much she loved you. 

-----

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[whispersingojo]

Pool Party

Contents ✮ fluff, comfort, teen!Satoru x teen!reader, gender neutral reader

Summary ✮ Satoru asks you to coming to a pool party he’s holding at his summer house this weekend. You reluctantly say yes, as long as he helps you pick out a bathing suit…but you’re feeling a bit nervous about the whole thing.

Word Count ✮ 2.1k

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“But I don’t even have a bathing suit,” you replied to Satoru, waving your hands in front of you.

“Then let’s get you one! I’ll make sure it’s nice and cute too,” Satoru gave you a wink and a cheeky smile.

You rolled your eyes, giving him an annoyed look. Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked up at him. You held your nose up high, “why should I?”

Satoru sat there for a moment, thinking to himself. He put his finger to his lips, looking up with a pondering expression, “because I asked you to?”

“That’s not a good enough answer.”

“Why not!”

“Because saying ‘because I said so’ is never a good answer!”

“Ugh. Maybe I just want you to!”

You raised an eyebrow, uncrossing your arms, “I’ll go, you just have to help me pick out a bathing suit,”

“Fuck yeah! How does Saturday sound to pick out a bathing suit? Since I’ll be having the party on Sunday at my place!”

“Ok…guess I’ll see you then,” you sounded a bit nervous, but Satoru didn’t hear you. He was to busy being excited to see you in a bathing suit.

When Saturday rolled around, you couldn’t help but feel this knot in your stomach. You sat in your dorm room, on your phone scrolling through whatever trying to calm your nerves. It wasn’t that you were nervous for the pool party itself, you enjoyed the company of people on occasion. It was that you weren’t to confident in your body, regardless of how much you trained and stayed fit.

You didn’t get a lot of time in your thoughts before Satoru swung your door open, “you ready to get going?” He asked.

You nearly fell out of your bed, your heart feeling like it jumped through the window, “god knocking!? That’s a thing you know!” You yelled back at him.

Satoru looked you up and down, “I mean you’re not getting underdressed or anything so I don’t see the problem. Anyways let’s get going I have to go back to my place after to set some stuff up,” he replied, ushering you up and out the door of your dorm room.

As you two walked to the mall, Satoru took a notice to how quiet you were. You held your bag strap with both hands and were staring at the ground disassociating. Satoru had called out your name several times, but your brain didn’t register it. You didn’t break out of this dissociative state till Satoru grabbed both of your shoulders to get you to stop walking, “hey!” He yelled.

You quickly snapped out of it, looking around kind of disoriented. You two had made it to the mall already, and were standing in front of the bathing suit store. Your eyes landed on Satoru, relaxing a bit, “sorry kinda got lost in thought there,” you laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck. Satoru gave you a concerned look, but shrugged it off, “ok, well we’re here. I’m thinking of getting a new bathing suit too actually, so you can help me pick one too!” He said as he walked into the store. You took a deep breath through your nose, holding it for a few seconds before exhaling out your mouth. You followed him into the store, hoping to find at least something you’d like.

Satoru immediately knew what he wanted, in Satoru fashion. You on the other hand, had no idea. It felt like you were going through the bathing suits for hours, feeling the terrible bathing suit fabric against your fingertips.

“How’s this one for me?” Satoru held up a black pair with with a grayish blue stripe one the top and on the bottom of the pants. You turned completely to him, holding your chin with your pointer finger and thumb. You even squinted a bit as you looked between Satoru and the bathing suit, trying to be dramatic.

“Well?” He asked, trying to get you to answer.

“I think it’s good!” You finally responded.

Satoru dropped his arms dramatically, “all that thinking just to say that?” He asked, messing with you.

“Well I had to think if you were capable of tying that string to make sure your pants don’t fall down,” you replied with a playful smile, “I mean- I’ve never soon you tie anything before so I don’t know,”

Satoru gave a gasp, acting offended, “I actually learned how to tie last year little did you know,” he crossed his arms, still holding the swim trunks. You couldn’t help but laugh, the banter helping your nerves. He smiled at you as you laughed. Satoru didn’t mention it, but he knew you were having a hard time with finding s bathing suit, and figured you were probably also nervous about wearing the bathing suit. He hoped the banter would help loosen you up.

“Oh we should get matching!” He perked up, beginning to rummage through the bathing suits again. He was trying to find one that matched your style of clothing.

You watched as he went through the all the bathing suits, enjoying the fact you didn’t have to touch the fabric anymore. You were also somewhat relieved you didn’t have to choose.

“Found it!” He yelled, making everyone in the store look at him for a moment before going back to what they were doing. Your cheeks grew a shade of pink in embarrassment, unlike Satoru who pulled out the bathing suit to show you.

You gave a somewhat surprised reaction, it really was his bathing suit but in your style, “wow I didn’t think you’d actually find one,” you said expressing your surprise.

“It’s in your size too- let’s go pay, I don’t want you to get any second thoughts,” he scampered off to the register to pay.

You blinked a few times before moving to catch up with him, “I thought I was gonna get it?” You questioned.

“Nah I’ll get it no biggy,” he said swiping the card already, “my treat,” Satoru gave you a warm smile before the cashier handed him his bag.

As you two walked out the store, the nerves began to creep back in. You took a deep breath again, pondering on whether or not to express how you felt.

Satoru looked at you out of the corner of his eye, realizing what you were feeling with ease, “you’ll look great. You always look amazing in anything you wear. Trust me,” he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close as you walked.

You sighed, “you’re just saying that.”

“What? Why would I just say that? What purpose is there?”

“I don’t know make me feel better?”

“Now why would I want to do that?”

“Satoru!”

You both laughed, walking out of the mall and back into the busy city. Satoru always knew what was going on in your head, even when you weren’t expressing it.

“Really though, I mean it. You look good in everything…I’ll make sure to give you all the praise you need when I see you in it, Kay?” Satoru reassured you in a soft tone, rubbing your shoulder while his arm was around you.

You smiled, appreciating his attempts to help you feel better, “okay…” you replied softly.

The dreaded day approached, the knot in your stomach reappearing. Before you and Satoru parted ways yesterday, he said he would come and get you to bring you to his parents mansion, who were currently away on business. You sat at the entrance of jujutsu high, your leg bouncing up and down quickly. Soon enough you saw a car pull up, and Satoru getting out of the back seat, “oh you’re already out here! That makes my job a lot easier,” he laughed to himself, “hop on in, then.” Satoru got back into the car as you stood to do the same.

Once you were in the car, you buckled yourself in and the driver started the car back up.

“Excited to try on the bathing suit?” Satoru asked, trying to start conversation.

“I don’t think excited is the word I would choose, but sure,” you laughed softly. You tried your best to relax in your seat, “I still can’t believe you wanted to match-“ you teased.

Saturo chuckled, “I thought it’d be nice!” He admitted, “can’t blame a man wanting to match with one of his closest friends.”

“Then why aren’t you matching with Suguru?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Because he refused!” Satoru pouted, crossing his arms over his chest.

You laughed softly to yourself at his reaction, “i should’ve known that would be the answer.”

The two of you talked about nonsense the rest of the car ride. Once you two got to Satoru’s place, you both hopped out the car. The driver drove off to park the car, leaving you to in front of Satoru’s mansion.

“Ah home sweet home…mi casa su casa,” he said In terrible Spanish, which made you laugh. Satoru led you up to the entrance of his home, opening the door and walking in. You followed him in, allowing the door to close behind you. You looked around, amazed at how clean and kept everything was. You saw a hand full of maids walking around cleaning things or chatting. You waved to some and they would wave back and smile.

“Everyone seems really nice,” you stated as you two made it to the outdoor pool.

“Yeah my parents made sure to hire good people, especially people who enjoy what they do,” he hummed, propping open the door to the pool.

You looked around at all the decorations, approaching the snack table, looking at all the different snacks Satoru prepared.

“Bathing suit time!” He cheered, putting his hand on your lower back and ushering you towards the poolroom changing area, “It should be on the door, I’ll go get changed in the stall next to ya.”

You nodded at him, going into the stall in front of you. The shall was similar to a changing room at an expensive store. You started getting undressed, pulling off your shirt and pants. You didn’t want to look at yourself, worried at how you might feel when making eye contact with the you in the mirror.

As you pulled on the bathing suit, you took a deep breath, trying to comfort yourself. “You’ll look great” you thought to yourself. You turned to look at yourself in the mirror. You didn’t necessarily dislike what you saw, just something about it made you uncomfortable. You stared at yourself, trying to figure out what was wrong with how you looked but you just couldn’t find the words to describe what was wrong.

“Hey you good in there?” Satoru asked in a somewhat worried tone.

You snapped out of your thoughts, clearing your throat, “yeah I’m coming out now.” You pulled your clothes together and held them close to your chest, before opening the to see Satoru standing there waiting for you.

He looked you up and down, giving a smirk, “damn you look good!” He said, already feeling your unease.

You looked down at the ground, giving a shrug, “I guess,”

“You guess? Come on you look amazing- don’t let those stupid voices in your head get to you and ruin a good time,” he began, “not to be rude, but believe me when I tell you, no one’s gonna be looking at you.”

He had a point. As much as you felt like everyone was looking at you, when Satoru would ask you to point out one person who was, you could never find anyone. But the unease didn’t settle.

“I don’t know I just feel uncomfortable in my own skin recently…like there’s something wrong,” you expressed.

“How about this- we get you one of my shirts to wear over the bathing suit, so that if you ever ease up you can take it off, and if you don’t then you can just keep it on!” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. Satoru brought his voice down to almost a sweet whisper, “you look amazing. There’s nothing you could say or do that could change my mind. I’ve always been honest with you about how you look, why would that change now?”

You sighed, somewhat defeated. You knew you couldn’t argue his logic, because it was all true, “let’s go get the shirt.”

He smiled like a kid, pulling you out the changing room and up to his bedroom. Once he found you a shirt, he repeated everything he told you the moment before. You nodded in agreement, feeling a bit better about yourself with the shirt on. Satoru gave you a kiss on the forehead, before leading you back downstairs to start greeting everyone. He looked at you, his eyes smiling behind his sunglasses.

“You’re perfect,”

[half-oz-eddie]

🎁 ❤️

Max was not supposed to be in Billy’s room. She knew better. 

But it was 7:30 AM and she really wanted to leave something for him on his desk. 

She quietly crept in, sliding her slim frame through the ajar door and tiptoed to his desk to gently place something on it. 

“The hell’re you doing?” A groggy voice startled her. 

She should’ve expected the hyper-vigilant teen to wake up while she was there. 

“I was—I just wanted t-to leave something here for you.” She nervously stammered. 

He narrowed his sleepy eyes at her. “Give it here.” 

Max slowly walked over, handing the surprise to Billy. 

It slowly exchanged hands and Billy examined it closely. 

“I-I know you don’t have a record player but I saw the posters in your room and I thought you’d want to—like—have something to collect. So Steve drove me to a record store to get you a vinyl.”

He stared at the Mötley Crüe vinyl for a few moments, then handed it back to Max. “Put it on my desk.” He said as he laid back down. 

“Y-you don’t like it?” She frowned. 

“Never said I didn’t. I’m just tired.”

Max slowly walked back over to his desk and set the vinyl down. 

“Why’d you buy that for me?” He asked. 

“Don’t you know what today is? It’s your—“

“I know that.” He said in a snippy voice. “I’m asking why the hell you bought me anything. You never cared before.”

“Well, last year, I tried to buy you something with my allowance and my mom said Neil would be mad if I used my money on you, so she wouldn’t take me to the mall.”

“And you said Harrington drove you? Why the hell did he do that?” Billy continued to question.

“We had a long talk about that night at the Byers and we came to a realization of how unfair we were being to you. So I—I didn’t wanna lose you forever. We don’t get along but like, we had our moments, where we’d talk to each other a little bit. Now we don’t speak at all.”

“You stabbed me with a needle.”

“You were gonna kill Steve if I didn’t stop you.” Max sighed. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“You don’t need to be. But whatever, guess I’m sorry too.”

Max smiled.  “I’ll let you sleep. Happy birthday.”

She closed the door behind her upon exiting and went back to her bed.

It was nearly 11AM when Max woke up again. Neil and Susan were already at work. Susan left a note behind with instructions for heating up lunch. 

This year, there was no school on Billy’s birthday, so Max decided to heat up the lunch for both of them. 

She set down two plates just in time, as she heard Billy resurfacing from his room.

He stepped through the quiet house and stopped by the table, glaring at Max.

“Nobody’s home?”

“No. Mom left lunch for us, so I heated it up.”

Billy looked down at the chicken Parmesan. Susan normally only made it for holidays, but Easter wasn’t until Sunday. 

Max figured it was Susan’s subtle way of giving Billy a little something special for his birthday.

“There were some breadsticks too.” Max mentioned, grabbing them out of the toaster oven. “I put some of that garlic and herb stuff on them because I remembered that you like it.”

Billy glared at Max as she started eating. 

“What?” She asked with her mouth half full.

Billy shrugged and rolled his eyes. “Nothin’. Forget it.” 

They ate in complete silence. Billy finished first and got up from the table without a word.

Max didn’t expect much conversation from Billy, but he wasn’t as unpleasant as he could’ve been, so it was fine.

She washed the dishes and sat back down at the table reading a magazine when Billy returned once more with his jacket on.

“C’mon.”

“Where’re we going?”

“Somewhere. I can’t leave you here by yourself. Susan and dad would bitch about it.”

Max grabbed her jacket and slipped on some shoes, then followed Billy to his car.

The drive was brief and they stopped at the quarry.

To Max’s surprise, Billy invited her to sit on the hood of his car. He offered her a soda and cracked open a beer for himself.

They clinked their cans together and drank as they quietly watched the early afternoon scenery. 

“It’s surprisingly warm today.” Max initiated small talk. 

“I think the groundhog saw its shadow—or didn’t see its shadow—or whichever meant a late winter.”

“It’s…when he sees his shadow.” She paused. “I think.”

Billy snorted. “Why are we listening to a big ass rodent about the weather anyway?”

Max softly giggled. “Tradition, I guess.”

“Yeah, well, it’s stupid.” He mumbled in response as he brought the beer can to his lips.

Silence returned again, and Billy glanced over at Max.

“So y’said Harrington drove you to the record store. That’s like…across town.”

“I wasn’t alone with him, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dustin and Lucas went too.”

Billy quickly responded with a scoff. “What’s so great about Harrington anyway? You defended him over me that night—“

“Is that what made you so upset?”

“No. But you defended him and I’m asking about it.”

“Well, he’s really nice. He looks after all my friends, everyone around town knows him and his family—“

“So he’s just the opposite of me.”

“W—I—I mean, you’re nice sometimes. You’ve been nice to me 4 times and I remember them all.”

Billy shrugged. “Yeah. Anyway, thanks for the gift, shitbird.”

“You better get me something nice for my birthday too!”

“When is it again? April…may…tember…”

“July.” She snapped.

Billy laughed. “I know when your birthday is, don’t be such a baby.”

“I’m not.” She fired back. “You’re just a jerk.”

“And?”

Max scoffed. “You’re so lucky it’s your birthday or I’d—“

“You’d what?”

Max chugged her soda and tossed the empty can at Billy.

“You piece of shit. You’re dead!”

Max jumped off the hood of Billy’s car and ran off laughing, with Billy not too far behind. 

When Billy finally caught up to Max, he chugged his beer and tossed the can at Max.

The out of breath siblings glared at one another, before their expressions softened and they began to laugh.

“Hey, d’you wanna go to the movies or something?” Max offered. “I’ll buy you popcorn.”

“And I get to pick the movie?”

Max groaned. “Fine.”

“You know I pick better movies than you do, anyway.”

“Bullshit! Your movie choices suck ass!”

The two bickered all the way back to Billy’s car. Sure, this was a nice day, but Billy couldn’t figure out why he couldn’t stop thinking about Steve Harrington driving his little sister across town to get him a gift.

‘Maybe I should thank him too…’