#actually closing that box again. not gonna. yeah. okay then

[stubbornlightoflife]

coughing. I have to go to class so just tossing this out into the open

song that is starbuckcore. To Me.

gesturing incoherently but. do you see this shit.

Are we born just to die? And left the whole time wondering why the world is full of suffering What makes it all worthwhile? Are we given just to take? Has it been a big mistake? Cause if someone made up all of this, I'd wanna ask them, "Why? Why?"

Why would you call us out to walk upon the waters? You fill the sea with monsters and waves Praise God who listens Praise God who saves

I forgive myself for I know now that desires burns down slowly And time's a cosmic river that we measure to make sense of where we're going All of our collected egos grit their teeth beg for freedom suddenly in the form of our discomfort Until we learn the point is loving one another

[possiblytracker]

feeling normal (birthday in like 3 days that im not ready for) feeling normal (too artblocked and preoccupied to even think about finishing artfight and wrestling with guilt about it) feeling normal (-£600 in bank account) feeling normal (realised breaking my foot last year led to Lasting Consequences but cant see a physio abt my fucked up legs til january) feeling normal (has to learn to drive stick and the instructor is scary) feeling normal (stlil has no idea how to un-fuck social life after the great mental breakdown of april 2023) feeling normal (gross sobbing)

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer Park Steve AU part 5

part 1 | part 4

“…Henderson? Oh, holy shit, Henderson!!”

Eddie sounds like a kid on Christmas morning as he comes bounding across the street, movements like a great dane tripping over gangly limbs. He barrels into Dustin and tackles him in a great big hug, swings him off the ground in a circle and puts him back down so they can do some elaborate handshake with slaps and switchbacks and an ending tap-tap of their ankle bones.

What the fuck?

Steve watches this whole thing go down with his hands on his hips and his face doing something horribly sour because seriously what the actual fuck? Stupid handshakes with Henderson are his thing.

“What are you doing here, man?” Munson asks Dustin with a jovial pat on the back. Dustin’s squeezing him around the middle, tucked into his side like a little kid hugging a giant teddy bear, face just lit the fuck up with excitement over this. Steve feels his nostrils flare in a brief flash of petty rage.

“Steve!” he shouts happily. “Why didn’t you tell me you’re neighbors with Eddie?”

Eddie’s face falls when he looks up and sees Steve. Feeling’s mutual, dickwad.

“You’re here to see Harrington?” He asks in a voice like flat soda, all the earlier enthusiasm sucked out into the void. He takes a tiny step away from Dustin — just the smallest bit of distance, a subtle lightening of his touch against his shoulder — but Steve doesn’t miss the flicker of hurt that passes between Dustin’s brows. As if he needed another reason to hate this guy.

“Uh, yeah?” Dustin asks, confusion coloring his tone. “He’s my brother.”

“He’s your what?”

Steve’s chest swells with pride. “He said I’m his brother.”

“Not my blood brother,” Dustin clarifies, and Eddie makes a little noise. “But yeah. He’s fucking awesome. And you’re fucking awesome—”

“Language?” Steve tries for Claudia’s sake, but Dustin’s on a roll now, getting louder and more exuberant as he starts talking with his hands.

“—And oh, holy shit, this is the best! Wait ‘til I tell Mike and Lucas about this. With you guys living so close, we can hang out all the time! And we won’t even have to make two bike rides!”

Dustin leans in to squeeze Eddie in another hug, so stoked he’s bouncing on his toes a little (so stoked he doesn’t even bother to ask Eddie if it’s cool if the whole party shows up at his door, but that’s Dusty for you). His face is turned into the front of Eddie’s shirt, and over the top of his baseball cap Eddie gives Steve this look that Steve’s pretty sure he returns. Serious. Somber. Resigned. A fucking gallows stare, because…

Because fuck. Fucking- goddammit.

They’re gonna have to pretend to tolerate each other now. For Dustin.

Steve’s left eye starts to twitch.

—

“Are you selling him drugs?”

“Excuse the fuck outta you??”

Okay. Yeah. Bad start. Backtrack. Steve knows this is not the right way to approach a conversation, especially not when it’s Saturday night and you just interrupted your neighbor’s house party to be an accusatory dick to him. The Munson trailer door is wide open behind Eddie, and Steve can see a couple guys he vaguely recognizes from school sitting in the living room — a chubby white dude, a nerdy black guy, and a baby-faced kid with a scowl to rival Mike’s. They’re eating pizza and smoking cigarettes and sipping some cheap-ass brand of beer, and Steve is clearly interrupting.

“Sorry,” he tries again.

“Wow,” Eddie smirks. “Didn’t know you knew that word.”

“Shut up, man- just— ugh.” He takes a deep breath, wills himself to stop rolling his eyes at the guy he needs to ask a favor. “I’m sorry, okay? Can I just talk to you for a second?”

Eddie considers him for a moment; chin tilted up, lips pursed; and then he steps onto the porch and shuts the door behind him. “I’m listening,” he murmurs around a fresh cigarette, hand cupped around the end to light it.

He holds the pack out to Steve. “You want one?”

“Do I- what?”

Eddie shakes the box for emphasis. “Do you want one?”

“No, I heard you, I just…” The weird ceasefire between them is tripping him the hell up. He doesn’t think it’ll go too well if he says that out loud, though. “…Yeah. Fuck it. Thanks.”

“Sure.”

They smoke in silence for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, looking out into the dark of the woods that kind of freak Steve out if he lets himself look too long. Something about the branches like long, spindly fingers in the dark; like jittering spider legs; like a Mindflayer made of—

“You wanted to ask me something?”

Steve rubs his brow with his thumb, lets the panic out on a slow breath. “Yeah, I just… Look, I’m not trying to— I mean, I shouldn’t accuse you of anything, man. I just spent the afternoon getting myself all worked up thinking about it after he left, and- and Claudia needs me to look out for the kid, so—”

“Who the hell is Claudia?”

Steve tilts his head at him. “Dustin’s mom?”

“Oh.”

“I thought you two were close.”

Eddie shakes his head, curls bouncing around his shoulders, “Nah, man, not yet really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, the little guy’s cool and all — smart as shit, too—”

“Isn’t he?”

“Fucking genius. He’s gonna cure cancer or some shit, I swear.”

Steve catches himself smiling; hides it behind another quick puff of smoke.

“Anyway,” Eddie says, “I don’t really, like, know the dude. We just met because I run Hellfire.”

Oh. “The DnD club?” No wonder Dusty’s obsessed.

Eddie shoots him a look, a quick blink of pleasant surprise. “Yeah, exactly.”

“Cool. He loves that game.” Steve pulls in more smoke, takes his time on the exhale; lets the nicotine buzz swim in his veins. He forgot how nice it feels. “So yeah, Claudia— his mom—asked me to look out for him, y’know? And I just, I know you used to supply the weed for my house parties and shit— and it was good quality shit and all but I don’t—”

“Hold on,” Eddie says, snorting a little in disbelief. “You think I’m gonna sell weed to Dustin?”

Huh. “You wouldn’t?”

“Hell no! One, he’s way too young; that shit’s, like, bad for young minds or something, allegedly.”

Steve frowns to himself, thinking back to him and Tommy smoking weed in Tommy’s basement in middle school; the brain damage they probably gave themselves doing it. Whoops.

“Secondly, can he even smoke? I thought he was sick or something.”

“What? Why would you think he’s sick?” Oh, shit, is he sick? Does Steve not know about it because he missed all those family dinners?

“Dude, take a breath.” Eddie waves a dismissive hand, wafting smoke in pretty tendrils under the trailer’s flood light. “I just meant, like, chronically. ‘Cause of his bones and shit?”

“Oh,” Steve breathes, relieved. “Oh, yeah, no, he’s fine, he’s just like missing collarbones and stuff; he can bend like Gumby.”

Eddie laughs at that, dimple popping out, and Steve can’t help but laugh a little, too, remembering the last time he told someone that. “Don’t tell him I said that, though, he’ll get pissed.”

“Scout’s honor,” Eddie salutes.

“You a boy scout, Munson?”

“Nah, Harrington. Just figured you were.” His eyes are bright and playful, sort of magnetic as he drops the last of his cigarette and stubs it out with the toe of his boot. “Anyway, I gotta get back to the boys. You wanna stick around for a beer, or are you satisfied with my answer, Nanny Steve?”

“Okay, do not fuckin’ call me that,” Steve laughs, sharp and short. Tries to season the words with a glare, but Eddie’s face is too impish and pleased to hold on to any real anger. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think your friends would try to kill me.”

“Mm, yeah,” Eddie agrees, wiggling his fingers as he waves a hand to gesture at the whole of Steve. “Gareth is not exactly a fan of your kind.”

Aaand he’s pissed again. Jesus Christ. “My kind?”

“Yeah. Jocks? Rich assholes?” His lips tip up in a crooked smirk, “Or, well—”

“Don’t.”

Steve’s just done with his stupid jokes suddenly, and Eddie must hear how much he means it because he raises his palms in surrender and steps back. Always stepping back and away, this guy. Fucking coward.

Steve doesn’t know why he reacts like this, but the shame is turning to fiery fury in his gut, curdling his blood like sour milk, pricking hot at his lash line. Damn it; he’s not about to let Eddie Munson of all people see him cry.

He scoffs at himself, shoves his hands into his pockets. “Whatever, man,” he sniffs as he turns his back on him, “Enjoy your party. Screw you.”

—

The most pathetic part, Steve thinks to himself as he writhes and twists in his tangled, sweaty sheets; 2am and he’s up again after a nightmare because of fucking course he is; is that somewhere between the insomnia and guilt over the way their conversation imploded earlier, his staring-blindly-at-the-ceiling-until-his-eyeballs-start-to-burn morphs into, like, daydreaming about how it could have gone.

He keeps repeating the scene in his mind, rewinding the tape to let it play out in richer detail.

It goes like this:

1. Eddie comes over.

2. Eddie comes over and apologizes.

3. Eddie comes over in the middle of the night to apologize because he’s so, so sorry that he just can’t wait until morning, even though it wasn’t really his fault; no, Steve’s the sorry one; no, Eddie is; no, they’ll both agree to do better, for the kids.

4. It’s two in the morning, after the cars are all gone and the party’s died down, and Eddie comes quietly across the yard; taps gently on Steve’s window so he doesn’t wake his mom.

Steve leans out and snaps, “What?” because he’s still a little pissed, and Eddie makes big, contrite eyes and plays with his own hands; fingers dancing in nervous circles; spinning rings.

“Listen, I, uh—” Eddie begins, “I might have… Shit, man, I might’ve been a bit of a massive dick earlier, and seeing as we have to play nice on account of the kiddos, I— do you- I mean— come have another smoke with me? Please.”

Please.

Please.

Please.

It’s a pleasant dream. Steve rewinds again, lets it play out in his head for a few more loops. Falls asleep just as he’s getting the dialogue right.

When he wakes up, Munson’s van is gone.

They don’t talk again for weeks.

—

part 6

tag list got absolutely outta hand lmao and i can’t tag some of y’all bc of your privacy settings, so sorry if i didn’t tag you but here ya go i did my best 🩷 follow the tag #trailer park steve au for future parts. @steves-strapcollection @discorporatedmess @questionablequeeries @nburkhardt @disrespectedgoatman @a-little-unsteddie @thedragonsaunt @ledleaf @perseus-notjackson @devondespresso @loop-deloo @annabanannabeth @thewyvernkore @callas-shitshow @sentry-nest @aliea82 @anne-bennett-cosplayer @steddie-as-they-go @insominaticthoughts @lofaewrites @crazyhatlady86 @gothwifehotchner @potent-idiocy @discount-izukumidoriya @hbyrde36 @goldensnitchbcs @mightbeasleep @lawrencebshoggoth @beckkthewreck @silversnaffles @dawners @hellion-child @stray-bi-kids @iswearitsjustme @ilovecupcakesandtea @slowandsteddie @gaysonthefloor @pennyplainknits

[pearlzier]

“why the fuck did this shit just squirt on me,” matt's gaze narrowed at the four year old in front of him, brows raising for a moment before he yelped as he felt your hand hit him upside the head. he glared at you, “what was that for?”

“you can't swear in front of my niece!” you gawk, ruffling his hair gently to apologise for whacking him.

“okay, but, what is this,” he lifted the LOL doll, staring the shit out of it as it makes him severely uncomfortable. the little girl, however, seems positively thrilled by it spewing water whenever you filled it up and squeezed it. she giggled and clapped her hands, and matt merely huffed, proceeding to fill the doll back up with water.

“it's uh,” you grab the piece of paper with names scribbled on them, trying to find where your niece had named her dolls, and soon landing on the name, “chrissy?” matt practically burst out laughing, causing your niece to also laugh too even if she didn't actually know what was happening.

“s'this chrissy, kid? yeah?” he waved the doll around, gently holding it for her and watching as it spewed water from its mouth and made her giggle again. “like uncle chrissy? yeah, that's my girl.”

your heart practically melts, as you watch your boyfriend and your niece play together. he lifts his gaze to yours and he smiles, humming under his breath, “you look a lot like her,” your niece looks a lot like your sister, sure, but matt thinks you two look similar. both incredibly pretty, and adorable. “you two smile exactly the same.”

he looks between the both of you and that only corroborates his claims, and he nods his head again, watching as the little girl handed him a stuffed toy from her toy box. he held it gently in his hands, and he giggles softly. “come sit with us, pretty sure me and the kid are scared of you bein’ up so high.”

you were only sat on the bed, but fair enough, the kid didn't have a great sense of scale from her tiny height. conceding almost instantly, you find yourself sat beside matt, arm to arm, as your niece hands you two various things to play with. “fluffy,” she mumbles at the toy that matt's holding, and he nods gently.

“fluffy toy? or are they called fluffy?” matt looks at you for answers, blue eyes wide and soft. he's so at ease right now, it makes you feel at ease. “wait, look at the uh..” he snaps his fingers, “the list.”

you grab the list once more and your niece stabs a chubby finger at a name on the list, one that says ‘bartholomew’. you and matt both stare at it for a moment, then look up at the baby, then at eachother, and matt says exactly what you're thinking in the first place—“can she even pronounce that..?”

no, she can't, clearly, since the slurry of siunds that slipped from her wet lips were not nearly anything close to the word, ‘bartholomew’. the two of you burst into little giggles and lean against eachother. it's adorable, it's wholesome. even the kid can see it. “uncle matt?”

“yeah, kid?” he speaks up, not looking at the girl but still putting his full attention into talking to her despite the fact he's trying to set up her barbie car.

“do you like auntie?” she bats her lashes idly, chewing idly on her bottom lip as her chubby fingers tug at matt's shirt. he lifts his gaze to hers, his head leant against your shoulder. the question makes both of your brows furrow, and he nods, answering after a second.

“‘course i like auntie, she's my girl,” he says naturally, which too makes your heart warm. matt looks over at you and he interlaces your fingers together, holding your hand for a moment before he looks back at the kid with a little tilt of his head. “why you askin’, hun?”

his gaze searches hers as he sits cross-legged, and he nods his head for her to continue, tone gentle. “uhm.. are you gonna marry auntie?” matt's eyes widen and he swiftly lets go of your hand out of pure instinct.

your gaze flits to his, and when he sees that, he soon clasps your hand into his again, squeezing it. “if she wants to, sure. one day,” god fucking god, he's perfect, you say to yourself. you knew it already however this solidifed it. his blue eyes meet his and he smiles, leaning into your shoulder. “one day, kid.”

your niece seems very happy to hear this, and she continues playing with her toys like literally nothing had happened. like she really hadn't just given you two something to talk about when your sister came and picked the kid up. “you really mean that?” you spoke up after a little moment, eyes searching his as you shifted yourself a little closer.

“mean it, baby,” matt admits, leaning over to press a kiss to your shoulder with an arm around you before your niece decides conveniently that she wants something to eat. not from you, but from matt. “uncle matt? wan’ sumthin’ to eat..”

“you hungry? aight, c'mon,” he releases you gently and holds out his hand for the little girl so the two of them can head over to kitchen, before matt holds his hand out for you too. he offers a gentle smile, “i'll make somethin’ for you too.”

hey, who can say no to that? you push up off of the floor and you grasp his hand, the three of you making your way down to the kitchen. your niece bounces happily, just happy to be accompanied by her auntie and her uncle.

you realise, a little surprised with yourself that it's taken so long, that matt would make a perfect father. and that maybe that conversation you have is gonna change your lives a little more than you thought.

tags ┆.ᐟ ᰍ ︵ @junnniiieee07 , @st7rnioioss ۫ .

a/n ┆i am so full of ideas to write oh my god ୭ ✧ ˚. ᵎᵎ ✶

[luveline]

what about Steve finding out he’s gonna be a dad for the first time??? or him doting on you while you’re pregnant 🥹

You’re asleep when Steve’s starts kissing you. “Love you,” he’s saying between presses of his lips, the words bouncing off of the side of your nose. 

You blink, eyelashes sticky with sleep. Your back aches and couch springs groan as you try to stretch, Steve’s arms locked around you to hold you in place. “What time is it?” you ask. Your voice barely comes out. You try again, “How long have I been sleeping?” 

You tip your face back. He’s laid down beside you, smiling, his hair crushed by the cushion under his cheek. You brush it out of his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding happy and affectionate at once. “I’ve been home for an hour. We napped.” 

You can tell. You feel distinctly relaxed. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Nauseous.” 

“Oh no,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. His hand slides down to your stomach. “What’s she doing to you?” 

For a moment, he talks so gently, with so much love, you assume he’s talking to the baby. But then you realise he’s talking to you, and you melt like soft taffy under a hot sun. “Nothing, really.” 

“No?” he asks, hand on the topmost curve of your bump. 

“I think I didn’t like lunch. My taste buds are changing or something.” 

“I can make you something. I’m an excellent chef.” 

“Maybe…” You curl into him as much as you can in the limited space. “In a minute.” 

“In a minute,” he repeats, half teasing, half something warmer. He’s turned on his side to give you and your bump enough room, an arm curled underneath you surely dead and the other still resting gently on your stomach. The air between you is warm, almost damp, too hot from napping together but neither of you willing to move away yet. 

You get lost in thought. The nice shape of his smile is distracting, especially still lax with the after effect of a good sleep. 

“What was your day like?” he asks eventually. 

“Just quiet.” You close your eyes and let them sting, tears collecting under your eyelids that you blink away. “I think the baby is making me really tired.” 

“Well, you’re making a baby. It’s hard,” he says. “Much easier to begin with.” 

You smile rather than laugh, too tired. “Way too easy. How was,” —you yawn wide, eyes watering yet again— “your day?” 

“A little less tiring than yours, obviously.” 

You rub your nose into his polo shirt. “Every shift is another pair of socks.” 

“This one’s worth more than that. A box of diapers for sure. And a couple of days of groceries, I guess.” He kisses your nose messily. “Got your vitamins on the way home.” 

“Thank you… Actually, my day was agitating. I have this itch between my shoulders I can’t reach.”

“Yeah?” he’s immediately interested. 

“Yeah, would you– yeah, to your– little more…” You drift off as his hand sneaks under your shirt and his nails find the awful evil itch that’s irking you. He knows exactly where to go from the slightest hitch on your breath, and he isn’t cute about it. He likely leaves scratch marks behind. It’s exactly what you needed. “Thank you so much.” 

He rubs the scratches with the side of his thumb to cover the pain until it’s faded. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m your guy. Itches, rashes, headaches, weird moles. I’m always gonna be your guy.” 

“Until the baby comes along ‘n then you're their guy.” 

“I guess so. I think you kind of…” You’re both so tired your conversation comes out slowly, but it comes. “…make that promise when you decide to have one. I’ll be her guy, but that’s not– I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m still gonna be your guy. You’ll have to share me, that’s all.” His nose crinkles with his smile. “I’m not gonna give you half, though. I’ll just have to double my efforts.” 

“Really?” you ask. You hadn’t realised you were worried until he mentioned it. 

“Duh, babe. Not gonna punish you for something I did to you.”

“This isn’t a punishment.” 

His fingers spread over your shoulder, skin on skin. “For sure not. I’m not talking about the baby, I mean me. The way I am. I’m not gonna choose her over you, I’m going to take care of you both.” 

His polo is easy to collect and squeeze in your hand as you tip into his chest. “You’ll have to choose her sometimes.” 

“So you admit it’s a her?” 

“I admit nothing, H.” 

“I’m on your side forever,” he promises, noses inclined together, your bump pressed to his abdomen. He’s hugging you like there’s nowhere else in the world to be. “I’m always gonna look after you.” He scratches your skin in emphasis, much kinder and longer strokes of his hand. “Always.” 

[vigilante-3073]

Helping Hand

Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Putting together a bookshelf becomes a lot more complicated without the help of a super-soldier.

TW: Fluff, girl construction, mild flirting.

Y/N sat on the floor in the middle of the living room. Various wooden pieces were scattered around the floor along with a singular pink bowl filled with screws.

Y/N had bought a bookshelf to put up in the nearly empty apartment that she lived in with Bucky. The place could definitely use some decor in order to start feeling like an actual home.

She sat on the floor in front of the television as it played some overly dramatic reality show that Bucky insisted he loathed, but secretly loved.

Y/N put the screws into the wooden pieces with the backside of a metal nail file as the door opened.

"Doll, you home?" Bucky called, tossing his keys into the dish on the table by the door.

"In the living room!" She called without looking up from her project.

Bucky made his way into the living room, bright eyes finding the chaos that had unfolded while he was out.

"How was therapy?" Y/N asked, tightening one of the screws.

Bucky looked around the room slowly "What the hell are you doing?" Bucky questioned.

Y/N looked up at him, "Building a bookshelf," She stated plainly, turning her attention back to the pieces.

"We don't have any tools. What are you using?" Bucky asked, looking around for evidence of a recent trip to the hardware store.

"This," She said, holding up a nail file proudly.

"What is that?" Bucky asked, making his way over to her.

"My building nail file," Y/N said.

"You're seriously using a nail file to put together a bookshelf?" Bucky asked incredulously.

"Yeah, it's worked out well for me so far," Y/N stated, looking down at the book of instructions.

"Did Steve let you put together stuff with that thing?" Bucky asked.

Y/N dropped her hands to her lap with a huff, "No," She admitted reluctantly.

"He always did it for me, but I swear I can do it myself," Y/N said, looking up at him.

Bucky sighed, squatting down beside her "What kind of screws are they?" He asked.

"I have no idea. They have a little 'x' on top," She said.

"I'm gonna run to the hardware store and them I'll help you put the rest of it together, okay?" Bucky questioned, she nodded.

...

Bucky lifted the bookshelf, sliding it back against the wall of the apartment. He took a step back, standing beside Y/N as they admired their handiwork.

It had taken Bucky under an hour to put together the rest of the shelf with the appropriate tools.

"Now that the shelf is put together, I bought you a little something to put on it. Wait here," She said, rushing out of the room.

She returned quickly with a blue gift bag, white tissue paper sticking out the top.

"You didn't have to buy me anything," He said.

She waved her hand, "It's a gift. Now, c'mon, open it," Y/N said, holding it out to him.

Bucky sighed, taking the bag from her hand and pushing aside the tissue paper. He reached into the bag and pulled out a boxed set of books.

His brow furrowed as he turned the plastic wrapped books in his hand, "This is The Lord of the Rings," He stated.

"Yeah, Sam told me that you read them when they first came out and I thought you might like to have a copy of your own," Y/N said.

Bucky stepped forward, tossing the gift bag onto the couch before placing the boxed set up onto one of the shelves.

He stepped back again, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her body close to his side. Bucky pressed his lips to the crown of her head, "Thank you for thinking of me, doll," He said softly.

"I always think of you," She stated, wrapping her arms around him.

He ran his hand over her back gently, "I do have to say, you did a pretty good job with that nail file," Bucky said.

"That's girl construction, for you," Y/N smiled.

[lesbianrobin]

you were warm when everything was cold

5,470 words

lucas/max, steve/eddie, lucas-centric

Lucas can't stop staring.

“Whaddya think?” Eddie twirls, showing off every angle of his borrowed letterman jacket with Harrington embroidered across the back. “So, Harrington? Gonna take me to the prom?”

Steve laughs, taking Eddie's outstretched hand and spinning him around again. “What, are we going steady?”

Eddie gasps. “Why, Steve, what kind of girl do you take me for? Of course we're going steady, I don't just go parking in cars with any old boy!”

Steve dissolves into laughter, pulling Eddie close by his belt loops and resting his forehead on his shoulder until the laughter subsides. Eddie runs his hands through Steve's hair aimlessly, playing with the strands, and shit, Lucas needs to look away, but he just can't.

“It looks good on you,” Steve says, so low that Lucas can barely make it out. He raises his head from Eddie's shoulder, leans in close so their foreheads are pressed together.

“Would you be mad if I added a few patches?”

“You can add patches if I can fix up the rips in your jacket.”

Eddie frowns. “Hey, I earned those rips.”

“And I earned my letterman.”

Eddie hums. “You'd make a good housewife.”

“How's that?”

“Well, you like to sew.”

“It's a basic life skill!”

“That you often practice for fun. You do all the cooking, you look after the kids, you love to clean…”

Steve clicks his tongue. “Only one problem there, Munson.”

Eddie raises his eyebrows. He's doing a terrible job of hiding his smile. “Oh really? What's that?”

Steve lightly grabs Eddie by the front of his jacket. “I'm not doing all that for a bum.” He pushes Eddie back a little just to pull him back in, knocking their foreheads together.

Eddie gives up on hiding his smile. “Oh, a bum?”

“That’s right. I need a man with a good job. Steady paycheck.”

“I provide.”

“You think I'm gonna raise children with a drug dealer?”

Eddie laughs, shakes his head, leans even closer to Steve, and—Okay, yeah, Lucas has gotta look away. He turns back to the pile of clothes he and Max have been sorting through.

Max is looking right at him, single eyebrow raised. Lucas’s stomach drops. “What?”

Max shrugs innocently, looking down to the stack of clothes in her lap like nothing happened. “Nothing. You like this?” She holds up a dark blue turtleneck sweater.

“Uh, for me or for you?”

“You, I can’t stand stuff around my neck like that.”

It does look soft. “I’ll try it.”

Steve apparently has an infinite abyss for a closet. Every time Lucas thinks Steve must have brought down the last of it, there’s another box, another armful of sweaters and t-shirts and polo shirts that Steve doesn’t need anymore even though they’re functionally indistinguishable from the stuff he wears every day. He’s got a lot of jackets, too, and Max has already claimed three for herself while Lucas has yet to snag one. Probably because he’s been distracted from their treasure hunt by… Well. He’s not sure what.

There’s something about watching Steve and Eddie that makes his chest ache, just a little bit. Something that feels like it’s just out of reach, like if he could just jump an inch higher he could grasp it and know what it is, have a name for it, figure out what feels like it’s missing with Max. He never felt like something was missing with Max before. She was perfect. She is perfect! Like, sure, not actually perfect, because nobody’s actually perfect, but she’s perfect for him just like he hopes he’s perfect for her, and they’re perfect together.

Maybe Lucas is overcompensating.

Max has been more present lately. More herself. Honestly, if anything, she’s more herself than ever. Vecna gave her this… confidence, sort of. Sureness in herself. Like, she just has this aura now, like she’s been to hell and personally kicked the devil in the nuts, and even though he knows it’s because she did essentially go through hell and personally kick the devil in the nuts, Lucas still kind of loves it. It’s like he’s dating the actual Max Max, or Ripley from Alien.

And yet. Even though Max isn’t hiding anymore, even though they talk now, even though their relationship is objectively better than ever, sometimes Lucas is just a little bit sad.

—

Movie nights are becoming worryingly essential to Lucas's mental wellbeing.

It doesn't have much of anything to do with the movies. It's how he feels safe surrounded by all of his friends, how the darkness forms a blanket to block out the rest of the world. Everyone that matters is right there in the glow of the TV. He knows they're all safe.

Right now, half of them are asleep.

Erica conked out early. So did Robin, who's curled up into a little ball and snoring lightly against Steve. Steve is awake, but Eddie is asleep in his lap, Steve's arms around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder. Dustin is awake, but he keeps jerking his head suddenly, like he's trying to keep himself up, and Lucas figures it's just a matter of time before he's out, too.

Max is awake. She's lying on him, and Lucas knows from experience that his arm is going to fall asleep pretty soon if she doesn't move, but what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him? Maybe a guy who doesn't even like girls.

But he definitely likes girls. Like, that's not even remotely up for debate, and it's not some deep-seated repression thing, it's just the truth. He loves when Max lays on him, up until the point where his arm gets numb and tingly. So what gives? What's the problem?

Lucas closes his eyes. He tries to picture Max with short hair, although Eddie's hair is long, and El's is short, so maybe that doesn't mean anything. He imagines her with a sharper jaw, although Dustin's jawline is soft, and Nancy's is sharp, so that probably doesn't mean much either. He imagines a Max with broader shoulders, maybe an inch or so taller than him, a Max he has to lean up to kiss, a Max with more than just peach fuzz on her upper lip.

He's not particularly into it, but he's not repulsed, either. Franken-Max is still beautiful. Handsome. Lucas still loves him. But that's a bad example, probably, because he already has feelings for Max, and changing some superficial stuff doesn't change the feelings. Who's a hot guy celebrity? Max likes Ralph Macchio. When he thinks about Ralph Macchio, though, all Lucas really feels is jealousy, maybe a little bit of disdain. So he thinks of Han Solo. Lando Calrissian. Luke Skywalker. They aren't bad-looking, sure, but Lucas doesn't feel too strongly about any of them, appearance-wise. Maybe he just can't find guys in movies hot.

His mind drifts, as it often has lately, to Steve and Eddie. It's not the way they look that has Lucas obsessing over them. He knew Steve and Eddie both long before they were Steve-and-Eddie, and he never had this kind of fixation on either of them before. Well, sure, maybe he's spent some time looking at Steve's arms, but that was more of an athletic inspiration thing than anything else. What is it about the two of them together that's so fascinating?

So many little scenes are burned into Lucas's brain. Eddie holding the door for Steve, calling him sweetheart and babydoll and a thousand other little nicknames that make Lucas's face and ears go hot. Steve carrying Eddie piggyback through the rain because Eddie was wearing those ratty old Converse with the floppy sole and Steve was worried that if he stepped in a puddle he'd get frostbite or trench foot. The two of them sharing clothes, wearing each other's jackets. The way they move, how sometimes when the radio's on they'll dance, and first Eddie's the girl, and then Steve's the girl, and neither of them is actually a girl, and it doesn't even matter, it's all just whatever's fun in the moment, whatever makes them feel good, and holy shit. Oh, shit. Oh, God.

Lucas wants to fall asleep during movie night in Max's lap. He wants her to drape her jacket over his shoulders when he shivers. He wants her to put her arm around him, hold him like he's precious. He wants Max to want all of that, too.

His arm feels numb. If Lucas were a girl, or if Max were a boy, he'd ask if they could switch places. But he isn't, and she isn't, and what kind of guy asks his girlfriend to get off of him so he can use her as a pillow instead? Lucas isn't sure if there's a word for a guy like that. If there is, it probably isn't very nice.

So he lets his arm go numb. He tries not to look at Eddie, at the way he nuzzles into Steve's chest and Steve just holds him closer.

“Hey,” Max whispers in his ear. Lucas jerks a little in surprise and she huffs out a laugh. “You okay?”

“What?”

“You've been spacey lately,” she murmurs, “Usually you'd be trying to figure out the logistics of all the Muppet action.”

She's not wrong. Lucas is fascinated by how they make the Muppets ride bikes and stuff. There must be a lot of wires and people involved.

“Everyone's asleep,” Lucas whispers back, “Didn't want to talk. You know Erica hasn't been getting much sleep lately, didn't wanna mess it up.”

Max shifts, pulling Lucas' arm around her shoulders so she can snuggle into his side. It's a bit better, but now he's gotta endure the pins and needles phase.

“You're sweet.”

He can almost hear it, sweetheart like how Eddie says to Steve, but that isn't Max's style and it's silly of him to even think about it. It's not like he wants her to change. It's just nice to imagine a world where none of the gender shit really matters and they can be like Steve and Eddie, and Lucas can be held and feel safe because the real-life Ripley's got his back.

God, he's pathetic. Lucas sighs, flexing his arm to encourage that terrible tingling to run its course. He has an amazing girlfriend and he's whining about nothing. Well, whining to himself. In his head. It still counts. It's still total pussy behavior.

Lucas pulls Max closer, kisses the top of her head. He can feel her head turn to look up at him, but he keeps his gaze leveled at the TV, and she doesn't say anything. They're fine. He and Max are fine.

—

“You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Huh?”

Max turns her head sideways to take a bite out of her hot dog. It's cute. She always gets ketchup and mustard smeared on her nose if she just bites straight into it.

“It goes both ways,” she says, chewing, and it should be gross, but it's not, really, because it's Max. She finishes chewing and swallows before she opens her mouth again. “I'm your friend before I'm your girlfriend.”

“You got some…” Lucas picks up a napkin from the picnic table, leaning forward to wipe a smudge of ketchup off the corner of her mouth. He kisses her, quick, because he's there anyway, and she smiles into it before shoving him away.

“Nice try. You gonna answer me?”

“Answer what?”

Her smile fades. It's replaced by a look of concern that makes Lucas feel nauseous.

“You can talk to me. You know that. Right?”

"Right." Lucas takes a sip of his Coke, just for something to do with his hands.

“I'm not…” Max looks down, sighing before she meets his eyes again. “I'm doing better. I can… you don't have to be okay all the time, you know? You can tell me things. You can tell me anything.”

God, his chest aches. Lucas reaches out and takes her hand.

“I know,” he assures her. “I know.”

He hasn't seen Max look this deeply sad in a while. She looks down and lifts their entwined hands, pressing a kiss to the back of his knuckles, and his heart flutters.

“Okay,” she says. She lowers their hands, drops his, and picks up what's left of her hot dog.

As she tilts her head to the side and gets mustard on her cheek, Lucas gets the distinct impression that she doesn't believe him.

—

When did he start spending so much time around Steve and Eddie?

It sort of makes sense. He used to spend a small amount of time with Eddie, a moderate amount of time with Steve, and then they all went through some shit and bonded and Lucas's Eddie time got bumped up to moderate, and then Steve and Eddie became an annoyingly adorable package deal, and now Lucas can't escape them. He's a little pissed, honestly. Fuck them for being gay and in love and equal and shit. Ruining his life. Lucas has never really been the type to envy other people's happiness, and he feels like maybe Steve and Eddie are making him a worse person. Before, he always figured that if his friends are happy, then he's happy, and that's it.

Upon further reflection, though, it occurs to Lucas that perhaps he just never had friends with much of anything to envy.

“You look adorable, sweetheart,” Eddie states out of nowhere, and some small part of Lucas still expects Steve, with his jungle of chest hair and unreasonably large biceps and many years of womanizing, to shove Eddie away, to reject the sweet kiss Eddie presses to his cheek, but he doesn't. Of course he doesn't.

Lucas suddenly recalls the wild look in Steve's eye, the ferocity in his voice, the strength with which he batted the demodogs away back in the junkyard. It feels like so long ago.

Steve does sigh a little. When Eddie tries to move away, Steve tugs him to his side and kisses the mass of curls on his head. The vibe is kinda weird today. Steve seems… off. So does Eddie, but Eddie is so perpetually strange and erratic that Lucas could just be making shit up.

“Okay, okay,” Robin says, more to herself than anyone around her, “I think this is it? Yeah, this is…” She squints at the binder in her hand. “Okay, yeah!”

She hands over the impressively large binder to Steve and Eddie, who each hold one side so that it'll stay open and Robin can read her sheet music. Robin raises her trumpet to her lips. She pauses.

“Just remember, this is, like, totally unofficial, and I'm only playing one part, so it—”

Mike groans. “Oh my god, just play it.”

Nancy flicks his ear. He bats her hand away.

Robin waves Nancy off just before she delivers what looks like a devastating smack to the back of Mike's head. “No, he's—yeah, I'm gonna play it.”

She raises her trumpet, takes a deep breath, and then Lucas is hearing an incredibly loud rendition of the Star Wars theme reverberating through Mike's basement. It's honestly, like, really impressive. When Robin finishes, Lucas claps and whistles, and Mike says, "Holy shit, that was awesome," and Dustin and Nancy cheer too, and Robin's bashful smile warms Lucas's chest.

“Just imagine it with, like, a bunch of other trumpets and trombones and a tuba and some other horns and I think there's, like, piano and synthesizer and maybe a timpani too, but I think it sounds okay just with the trumpet. I mean, nowhere near as good, but you can, like, recognize it, you know?”

Robin's concert continues. This was supposed to be a big group study session, but Lucas doesn't mind the delay. Steve doesn't even need to study, he's just here because he's Robin's ride, so he'd probably say something if it was a problem. She plays Fly Me To The Moon and a few others that Lucas vaguely recognizes. Eventually, Robin tires, packing the trumpet away and condemning them all to hell.

“This shit sucks,” Dustin mutters, flipping a flashcard back and forth without looking at it.

Mike sighs his agreement.

Lucas shrugs. “At least we're not Eddie.”

All three of them glance over to where Nancy and Robin have been drilling Eddie for the past hour, only to find that he's nowhere to be seen.

“Huh. Guess he had enough.” Mike sounds jealous.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom,” Lucas says, “Do me a favor and kill me when I get back.”

“Kill yourself,” Mike says.

“Don't worry, I'll kill you,” Dustin says supportively, “I'm a real friend.”

“Thanks.”

Lucas leaps over the coffee table to avoid disturbing the pile of backpacks and textbooks on the floor. He takes the steps two at a time, enjoying the chance to stretch his legs after an afternoon of sitting on Mike's couch. When he gets to the bathroom, the door is closed, and he reaches for the handle but freezes when he hears a voice.

“...didn't mean it like that,” Eddie says.

Lucas puts his hand down, but he inches closer to the door, just shy of pressing his ear up against the wood.

“I know, I already said it's fine.” Steve sounds tired.

“But it's clearly not because you're upset.”

“I'll get over it. You had a point.”

“Well, yeah, but I was being a total dick about it.”

“You know I don't mind a dick with… wait. Wait, I meant… uh, I'm used to your… shit.”

“You're used to getting dick from me? Or… uh, you don't mind a dick when it's mine?”

Steve snaps his fingers. “Yes! Yeah, those. Ugh, you're a genius.”

“No,” Eddie whines, “Don't be nice to me right now, I feel evil.”

“Ed, it's literally fine. You're right, it doesn't matter if I look perfect every time I walk outside.”

“But you do, that was my point, you don't need to worry about—”

“Eddie. Let it go. It's fine. I'm fine.”

“Can I just… Okay, I know this morning it seemed like I was just being an asshole because you were making us late with your hair stuff, but can I just explain what I meant to say?”

Steve sighs. “Yeah. Yeah, sure, go for it.”

“I just… I see you freaking out all the time about how you look, and what people think of you, and it's not that I think it's dumb, because I can understand wanting to feel confident and wanting people to accept you, but the thing is that you don't have to do that. You don't have to. You are the kindest, sexiest, most badass person I know, and that's not something you have to put on for other people, it's just who you are. So it drives me crazy to see you driving yourself crazy over who thinks you're a loser and who thinks you're a douchebag and all of that, because not only does it not matter at all what some random assholes think of you, but, like, when you're just yourself? When you're just being yourself, Steve, everyone falls in love with you, that's how I fell in love with you, and it breaks my fucking heart when you feel like you need to put on some kind of act or have perfect hair or whatever for people to like you, because you don't.”

Silence. Lucas waits, afraid that somehow they realized he was listening, but then Steve speaks, his voice thick with emotion.

“You love me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie breathes immediately. “Yeah, I hadn't mentioned?”

“Mm, no, no, I think I'd remember if you—”

“You sure? You forget things a lot, you know—”

“Oh, shut up, I love you.”

“Ardently?”

“If that means a whole lot.”

“More or less. Means passionately. It's, uh…” Lucas can hear the embarrassment in Eddie's voice. He doesn't think he's ever seen Eddie embarrassed before. “It's from Pride and Prejudice.”

Steve laughs. “God, I love you. Then yes, Eddie Munson, I love you ardently.”

“And I you, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, with a tinge of that regality he uses for upper-crust NPCs, but it sounds sincere at the same time, nothing about it even remotely artificial. “I love and admire you ardently.”

Lucas backs away from the door. His head feels kinda… buzzy, as he walks to the upstairs bathroom. He shouldn't have been listening in. That was a private moment, seemingly an important one, but Lucas has terrible impulse control lately and he has that feeling again, that one like he's reaching up for something that's barely out of reach, his fingers brushing it when he jumps, but he just can't quite jump high enough to get his hand around it and bring it down to his level.

When he gets back downstairs after his overly long bathroom break, he says he's feeling sick and heads home early. Steve seems concerned, but even as he asks if Lucas needs anything, he has this air about him, like he'd float right off the ground if his shoes weren't weighing him down. It's been a long time since Lucas felt like that.

He goes home. He switches out his jeans for sweatpants. He lays in bed, he stares at the ceiling, and he wonders.

Steve has kind of been, like, the pinnacle of being a man to Lucas these past few years. He's cool. He's strong. He's brave. He always goes in first, always comes out last, always puts himself between the people he loves and the source of danger, and Lucas wants to be like that. He's always tried to be a good friend, to listen and empathize and help when he could, but once the world shifted and suddenly bullies weren't the biggest threat in everyone's lives, he was left reeling.

He can still remember fumbling with his wrist rocket, shooting rocks at the Demogorgon because there was nothing else he could do, and he remembers the dawning realization that he was going to fail, and that his friends were going to die, and that it was going to be because he wasn't strong enough.

Steve fought off the Demogorgon.

He had a bat, yeah, and a lot more height and muscle than Lucas, but still. He did it. And if he could do it, then maybe so could Lucas one day, if he just kept working out, kept practicing with his wrist rocket and watching The Karate Kid. In retrospect, Lucas's logic wasn't great, but he was in middle school, so whatever. He's gotten a lot smarter since then. The wrist rocket is more useful for distraction than outright combat, and karate moves aren't really that helpful in a fistfight.

Steve was just… always solid. He always bounced back. He could take the worst beating Lucas had ever seen and then get up and save the world, and he was always okay at the end of the day, always Steve underneath no matter how bloody and bruised he was on the outside.

Lucas has never been hurt like that, but he's still had nightmares for about four years now. They never really go away. They aren't constant, but every time he thinks maybe he's kicked it, they come right back and leave him panting, sweaty, trembling with the lamp on at three in the morning because he needs to have a light or else he won't know that something's coming. He worries about not being strong enough. He worries about not being enough in general.

According to Eddie, all this time, Steve's been worrying too. Worrying what people think of him. Trying to earn his keep and be what everyone else wants him to be. Showing up late sometimes not because he was too cool to care about being on time, but because he was trying to make sure he looked perfect before going out in public. Eddie wasn't just complimenting him out of the blue earlier for no reason, he was trying to reassure him, comfort him, because Steve Harrington has insecurities. It should have been common sense, but the knowledge hits him like a firework to the face, lighting everything up and leaving Lucas disoriented in its wake. What else has he been missing?

When Steve and Eddie started dating, they didn't, like, announce it or anything. They just didn't hide it, and eventually everyone got the memo, and Lucas is still deeply ashamed of the fact that he was one of the last to realize. It was less about the fact that Steve was dating a man and more about the fact that Steve was letting a man stroke his hair and put a leather jacket on his shoulders and call him dollface, like, seriously. Lucas thought it was a joke. In his defense, he thinks a lot of Eddie's little nicknames are jokes, but there's also something painfully earnest about them that he recognizes now, like each one is a little I love you, and it had been hard for Lucas to see Steve as somebody who wanted that, as someone who needed reassurance and affection and wanted to be treated with care.

Maybe Steve has nightmares too. Maybe even muscles and a nail bat aren't enough to keep the demons at bay. Maybe if Lucas stopped hiding the fact that he needs reassurance and affection and sometimes he wants to be treated with care, maybe if he talked to Max… But Max has had to deal with so much worse. It wouldn't be fair to just dump all of his issues on her, too.

God, she'd be mad if he said that out loud. Lucas can almost hear her voice, saying something like, don't decide for me what I can and can't handle, and he smiles, alone in his room staring up at the ceiling, because he's been a little bit of an idiot.

If even Ripley can need some support now and then, why can't he?

—

“You seem lighter.”

“Hm?”

Max nudges his leg with her own. “That thing you've been weird about all month. You figure it out?”

Nobody is paying attention to them, sitting on the floor in front of Mike's couch side by side. The others are all debating something to do with DnD, he thinks, but he hasn't really been paying attention. Max rented The Karate Kid, and the two of them have been focused on the movie while everyone else got distracted.

“I think so,” Lucas says, and takes a chance. He leans over, resting his head on Max's shoulder, and immediately her arm comes up to wrap around him.

“And you're not gonna dump me?”

Lucas sits up to look at Max incredulously. “What? Why would I dump you?”

She looks embarrassed. She leans in and lowers her voice. “Okay, don't be, like, offended, and this might make me sound stupid, but I noticed you've been looking at Steve and Eddie a lot lately.”

“Oh my god,” he mumbles, and Max laughs.

“So, you’re not…”

“No.”

“That’s good.” Her eyes widen a little bit as soon as the words leave her mouth. “Uh, I mean, that’s good for me as your girlfriend, not, like, in general. And I mean, obviously you could like guys and still like me, but, you know, you seemed really deep in thought, so…”

Lucas laughs. “Wait, so you thought I was, like, having a sexuality crisis, and you didn’t…”

“I didn’t want to push you on it,” she shrugs, “I figured you’d tell me when you were ready. But then you just seemed like you were getting more upset about it, and you were doing that thing where you pretend like you don’t have feelings—”

“What? I don’t—”

Max raises an eyebrow. “Yeah, you do.”

“...Maybe.” Lucas sighs. “I kind of was. But that wasn’t… it wasn’t about, like, guys. Trust me, I tried, and the closest I got to being into a dude was you.”

Max’s face scrunches up. “Me?”

“It’s… listen, I was going through a lot of hypotheticals!”

She giggles. “And one of them was me as a guy? Was I hot?”

Lucas shrugs. “Yeah, I wasn’t not into you.”

“High praise.”

“No, it was…” Lucas trails off, unsure of how to say it. He turns back to the TV and lowers his head to Max’s shoulder again. She lets him, wrapping her arm around him, and actually, how did Lucas ever think this would be wrong? It’s Max. It’s only Max.

“I wanted this,” he mumbles.

“This?”

He grabs her hand where it rests on his arm. “Yeah. You know, they always… like, I just wanted you to hold me.”

“Lucas,” Max says, her voice uncharacteristically tender.

“I’m not saying I wanna be all gross like them, but… I don’t know.”

“...Could I give you my jacket sometimes?”

“Oh my god, yes,” Lucas says, and Max laughs.

“You don’t even know how many times I’ve wanted to give you my coat because you never learn—”

“I learn!”

“No, you dress for fashion instead of function and then you freeze your ass off!”

Lucas laughs too, turning to bury his face in Max’s dark blue jacket, one of the ones she snagged from Steve, and she tugs him closer until he’s practically sitting in her lap. He feels light, like he might float away if she wasn’t holding on to him. But she is. She’s holding him, and she’s laughing, and none of their friends seem to have noticed anything different. It’s just Max, and Lucas, and they’re better than ever.

—

Lucas holds the door for Max, letting her enter Family Video ahead of him. Steve and Robin are at the counter, Robin gesturing wildly as usual. Steve raises a hand, waving as Lucas and Max approach. “Hey, nice jacket, Sinclair. Is that one mine?”

“It’s mine now,” Max says, wrapping an arm about Lucas’s waist and pulling him into her side. “He only wore a t-shirt even though it’s freezing out because he needed everyone to see his arms.”

He rests his arm over her shoulders. “I don’t need to bring a jacket, I have you.”

She rolls her eyes. “You know, one of these days I’m not gonna take pity on you and I’m gonna let you freeze to death.”

Lucas hadn’t even been cold when Max took off her jacket and wrapped it around his shoulders. She had just done it out of the blue, stepped back, grinned, and said he looked good.

Robin sighs. “Ugh, you two are adorable. See, Steve, this is what I’m talking about!”

“And I’m telling you, all you have to do is have a conversation like a grown-up!”

“But it’s scary,” Robin whines, leaning her forehead against Steve’s chest and groaning. He pats her head comfortingly.

“I know. Max, I got your stuff on hold right over there.” Steve nods at a small stack of tapes on the counter. “Already checked them out for you.”

“You had stuff on hold?”

Max had spontaneously decided she wanted to have a home movie night instead of going to the theater, and Lucas had assumed it was just because she didn’t feel like going out.

She pulls him over the counter, and Lucas sees all three Star Wars movies in a neat pile.

“Surprise!”

Max isn’t that into Star Wars. She likes watching horror movies on date night, and she hates sitting through more than one movie at a time, but here she is with three space operas and a tentative smile on her face, and Lucas can’t help it.

“I love you.”

Max raises her eyebrows before dissolving into laughter. “That’s it? This is the moment?”

“Yes, shut up!”

She does not shut up. Max continues laughing. “Really? Because I rented Star Wars?”

“Because you know me.” Lucas grins. “You love me.”

“Well, yeah,” Max says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. Like he’d said that the sky is blue or that El’s a superhero.

Lucas hears a high-pitched squeal, and he turns to find Steve with a hand clamped over Robin’s mouth. Her eyes are wide and excited.

“Go have your little date before she explodes,” he says, waving them off.

“Thanks, Steve.” Max takes the tapes and turns to the door. Lucas jogs ahead to open it for her.

As Lucas follows her outside, part of him feels like he might just float off the asphalt right into the clouds, but he doesn’t worry about it. There’s no need. Max is right there, and he’s wrapped in her jacket, and she’s taking his hand for the short walk from the store to their bikes. No, Lucas won’t float away.

Max will keep him tethered.

[tastesousweet]

⭒ blurb : calling hamzah your “friend”

bf!hamzah x poc!reader

summary : headcannons/blurb based on the tiktok trend of calling your partner “friend”

mickey speaks : since ppl really liked my first lil blurb imma just play out all my tt fantasies with our fake bf :D also pls send me any hamzah reqs my brain is very empty lmfao!!!!

─────────── · · ୨୧ · · ───────────

you prop your phone up against the vase of flowers on your dining room table, capturing both you and hamzah in frame.

“guysss!! look my friend brought me takeout hibachi for dinner tonight!” you squeal and lift the styrofoam box to show off your meal.

hamzah doesn’t catch it the first time, he’s honestly tweaking because he stopped to get you both dinner right after the gym.

he feels starved but maintains composure and a smile for your tiktok bit

“i just got the basic fried rice, veggies, and chicken. i think my friend got the same, hamzah what’d you get?”

his eyebrows pinch in confusion for a second, “uh yeah, i got the same as you.”

“okay first bites! i’ll have my friend go first” you can’t help but smile when you grab the phone and start to record hamzah, but he’s paused holding his fork in the air.

“why do you keep saying that?” he softly asks through a laugh.

“what?”

“callin’ me your friend?”

“are we not friends...?" "i mean yeah sure but like not just that?" "you're confusing me, just take your bite please we’re gonna run out of time on this”

he nods his head compliantly and exaggerates a hum of “mmm!” after his bite before taking your phone to film yours.

“okay friend, your turn!” he loudly mocks with a wide grin.

you try not to laugh while taking a bite yourself

“it's actually so good, i needed this right now.”

you now record the both of you, “okay my friend and i are gonna finish this and then we’ll be back with more bestie activities!”

as soon as you say 'friend' again hamzah leaves the frame to chuckle through the amount of food in his mouth.

“right, best friend?” you urge some more

he swallows and pettily glances from side to side, “where's the best friend at???”

“okay he’s trippin’ but we’ll be back”

you're both in your bathroom now, hamzah reads over the packaging of two sheet face masks while you pull your hair away from your face with a fuzzy cat-eared headband.

"'kay, now we're gonna do these face masks together, because hamzah’s such a good friend!” you hold and rub his arm.

he puffs his lips and closes his eyes in defeat while shaking his head, “stop,” he looks down at you, noticing your headband, “that’s cute,” he flicks one of the cat ears on your headband.

“you look like one of those get ready with me girls; you'd be like,” he mockingly pretends to push his hair back, “‘get ready with me to lie on the internet!’”

you laugh with him and add to the joke as well, "get ready with me to kill my boy-friend! my friend!" your eyes widen and you try hide the embarrassment.

hamzah quite literally points and laughs, "look at you! even you know you're a damn lie! girl, get outta here!"

cuts to a clip where it’s just hamzah talking to your phone as he shifts the mask around on his face, “i don’t even know if i’m doin’ this right, bruh.” he looks into the camera, “oh hell nah, i look crazy!”

“it feels so weird…” he taps at the slick, cold mask some more before coming close to the camera again, “guys im having a fucking identity crisis. why’s my girlfriend gaslighting me right now?"

“like, i didn’t even know that girls knew how to do that…comment down below right now and give me tips on how to understand women.”

“okay i found one, look how cute!” you’re back and holding another fuzzy headband with a bow in the middle.

hamzah laughs, “i love you, but im not wearing that.”

in the next clip of course he’s wearing it, “aw don't we look so cute?”

finally cuts to a clip of you later that night throwing yourself next to him in bed and flipping the camera to record him as he plays candy crush, curled under the comforter. “hi babbyyyyy! i was joking about the friend thing i know you’re my boyfriend.”

“i know you know i’m your boyfriend,” he distractedly mumbles, laying on his side while continuing to move his thumb around his phone screen.

you flip the camera once more as you wrap an arm around him and squish your face on top of his hooded head. he looks into the camera and smirks to himself when he sees your sweet face.

he sticks his tongue out obnoxiously, yells “goodnight vlog!!!” and covers your phone's camera with his hand forcing a loud cackle out of you.

[solarmorrigan]

“That’s it?” Steve asks. “You’re not going to go to prom because you don’t know how to dance?”

“I’m uncoordinated enough! I don’t need to be out there making even more of an idiot of myself in some floofy dress,” Robin insists.

“Rob, no one at prom knows how to dance. Everyone kind of looks like an idiot, that’s half the point,” Steve says.

“Oh yeah, Steve, you’re really selling me on the experience,” Robin drawls.

“No, listen, I’m not done,” Steve says, giving her a nudge. “The other half of the point is just… going and having the memories, y’know? You get to dress up and take the dumb picture with your date, and avoid the punch because someone probably spiked it, and you get to dance and be close to someone and just, like, be carefree for a night.”

Robin says nothing. She doesn’t agree that prom night is paramount to the teen experience, she doesn’t tease the shit out of him for having such stereotypical expectations of a dumb high school dance, she’s just… watching him. She’s turned sideways on the sofa, one leg drawn up to her chest, and she’s looking at him like he’s something between a fascinating puzzle and the saddest thing she’s seen all day, and he knows what she’s thinking.

Steve hadn’t gone to senior prom. He’d been planning to, of course, at the beginning of the year – he’d had Nancy then, and even as early as October, he’d been fantasizing about the flowers he’d bring her and the dinner they’d go to and the way they would sway slowly to whatever shitty songs the DJ put on. But by the time spring had rolled around, he not only hadn’t had Nancy, he hadn’t really had any friends in school at all—not real ones—and so he hadn’t seen the point in attending.

He'd gone to a movie with Dustin that night, instead (he’s at least eighty percent certain the little shit had set it up as some kind of pity outing, since he’d known Steve wasn’t going to prom, but it had been kind of nice that someone had cared enough to even try). It hadn’t been bad, but it hadn’t been exactly what he’d wanted.

Stiffly, Steve glances away from Robin and shrugs. “Or whatever. That’s what it’s like in the movies, right?”

Robin opens her mouth, but her eyes are still soft, and suddenly Steve doesn’t want to hear what she has to say. Instead, he levers himself up off the couch and turns to her, holding out a hand.

“C’mon, I’ll teach you,” he says, cracking a grin. “Then you won’t have an excuse not to go.”

“You… want to teach me how to dance,” Robin asks flatly.

Steve shrugs. “You got anything better to do tonight?”

Raising a sharp brow at Steve, Robin starts to smile, too. “You sure you wanna subject your feet to that?”

“I think I can handle it,” Steve shoots back, and then Robin is up off the couch and helping him push the coffee table out of the way.

They rifle through Steve’s collection of tapes until they find something he deems just the right tempo, pop the cassette in, and stand in the middle of the living room.

“Okay, give me your hand,” Steve says, taking her right hand in his left, “and your other goes on my shoulder.”

Robin does as he says, glancing dubiously down at her feet as Steve places his hand on her waist. “I’m not actually sure this is a good idea,” she says with a grimace. “I might be unteachable.”

“We haven’t even started yet,” Steve reminds her. “Seriously, relax, this is super easy. It’s just a box step waltz.”

Despite her uncertainty, Robin can’t help but smirk at him. “A waltz, huh?” she teases. “Did your parents make you take fancy-pants, rich kid dance lessons when you were younger, or something?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “No. My mom taught me,” he says, and then rushes on before Robin has anything to say about that. “So you’re gonna start by stepping back with your right foot when I step forward, alright?”

Brows furrowed, Robin nods and looks down at her feet again, and Steve squeezes her waist gently to get her attention.

“Look up at me, not at your feet. It’ll be easier, I promise.”

“How am I going to know what my feet are doing if I’m not looking at them?”

“You’re attached to them, Robin.”

“That’s debatable.”

Steve tries not to laugh. He really does. “Okay, you’re in marching band, right? This cannot be harder than following whatever steps that involves while also playing an instrument.”

“This is different!” Robin insists. “I can’t step on the French horn’s feet! The French horn isn’t gonna judge me if I fuck up! Like, the worst that’ll happen in marching band is that the drum major will yell at you, and the drum major is always yelling, so it doesn’t even make a difference anymore, and–”

“Hey,” Steve cuts in, squeezing Robin’s hand this time. “I’m not going to judge you if you fuck up, okay? I am literally the last person qualified to do that.”

Robin huffs out a little laugh. “Right. Two of a kind,” she says.

“Exactly.” Steve grins. “Now c’mon, Buckley, I know you’ve got this. On one, back with your right foot.”

Nodding, Robin glances down at her feet, but looks right back up at Steve. “Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps forward with his left foot, and Robin immediately steps forward with her right and kicks him in the shin.

“Ow,” Steve says, dry and flat because it hadn’t really hurt.

“Sorry!” Robin ducks her head, laughing nervously.

Steve shakes his head. “Let’s try that again. Back with your right foot.”

“At least I had the right side?”

“Yep, now aim for the right direction, yeah?”

This time, when Steve counts off, Robin’s right foot goes back, and his left follows her.

“Okay, now what?” Robin asks, looking down again.

“Now, you’re gonna bring your left foot–” gently, Steve judges the top of her left foot with his right, “back,” as she begins to slide back, he moves and taps the inside of her ankle, “and to the left. Just like that.”

“No injuries this time,” Robin quips, and Steve smiles.

“Now move your right foot over next to your left.” He nods as Robin gets her feet back together. “Forward with your left foot – good,” he encourages as he steps back to mirror her. “And now forward and to the side with your right. Like you did with your left before, but opposite.”

“Uh.” Robin makes the move slowly, still staring down, but she looks back up at him when she gets her right foot planted. “Like that?”

“Yep. Now left foot over, and–” Steve follows her, bringing them back to the same position they started in, “that’s it!”

Robin blinks at him. “That’s it?”

“Easy, right?” Steve says.

“Yeah.” Robin nods hesitantly. “I think I can handle that.”

“Of course you can,” Steve insists. “Now let’s try it again. Back with your right foot. One–”

Robin steps forward with her right and kicks Steve in the shin.

“Sorry!”

Steve quickly becomes glad they’re both in their socks, or he’d be sporting much more serious bruises by the time they reach the end of the tape. Robin doesn’t have any trouble keeping the order of the steps in mind, but keeps moving in the opposite direction of where she’s supposed to be going, and Steve has been kicked and stepped on more times in the last half hour than he thinks he has been in his entire life.

“This is ridiculous,” Robin groans. “This is the literal definition of women having to do everything backwards and in heels!”

“You’re not wearing heels,” Steve points out.

“I would be at prom,” Robin says. “Why do I have to go backwards?”

“Because you’re following.”

“Well why can’t I lead?”

“Because you don’t even know how to follow!”

“Exactly! I’m starting from scratch either way!” Robin aims pleading eyes up at Steve. “Can’t we just try it in reverse? How much worse at it could I be?”

The thing is, Steve’s only ever led when dancing – he’s never had reason to learn how to do the follow part. But then, he’s already been reversing the steps in his head all night in order to instruct Robin; following couldn’t be that hard, could it?

“Fine,” Steve groans, letting his head hang back for a moment. “Fine. Trade me.”

“Yes! Trade!” Robin pumps her fist once in triumph, and Steve can’t help but laugh.

He lets go of her right hand and instead takes her left before putting his other hand on her shoulder.

“Hand on my waist.” Steve nods to his to his left side, and Robin moves into position. “Right, so you’re gonna step forward with your left this time, okay?”

Robin nods. “Forward with my left. Okay.”

“Okay. One–”

Steve steps back with his right foot. Robin steps back with her left.

They stand there, each half balanced on their back foot, staring at each other, before Robin bursts into laughter. Steve follows suit.

“I– I told you I was unteachable,” Robin giggles once they’ve caught their breath, her forehead resting on Steve’s shoulder.

“Nope, this is a personal challenge now,” Steve insists, still grinning. “I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a quitter. You’re going to learn to waltz if it kills me.”

“Shouldn’t it be ‘if it kills me’?” Robin draws back to ask.

“My death is looking a lot more likely at this point,” Steve says, and Robin snorts.

“God, you’re so dramatic.”

“Yeah, okay, Miss Unteachable. Ready to try again?”

Robin takes in a breath, wiggles her shoulders, and puts her hands back in position. “Ready.”

“Great. Just remember–”

“Forward with my left foot,” Robin echoes, overlapping Steve’s instruction perfectly.

Steve grins. “Okay, then. One–”

Somehow, Robin makes a better leader than a follower. Once she gets over the initial nerves, she manages the reverse order of steps just fine, even getting confident enough to stop looking at her feet after several sets.

(The fact that Steve has no trouble immediately reversing the steps himself and still instructing Robin receives no comment, though it does receive a brief glare, which gets a smug grin in return.)

They rewind the tape again and keep going. Steve lifts their joined hands to spin Robin around when they hit the second song and she follows with a laugh before insisting that, since she’s leading, she should be the one spinning Steve. He has to duck a little to get under her arm, but they feel the maneuver is quite successful.

Robin offers to try to dip him, but Steve declines, insisting he doesn’t feel like getting dropped on the floor today, earning a pinch at his waist even as Robin laughs.

As the evening wears on, they give up their carefully-held waltz positions and lean in close, until Robin’s head is resting on Steve’s shoulder again, her arms wrapped around his waist, while Steve drapes his arms over her shoulders and leans his head on top of hers.

“This is the kind of slow dancing I would’ve expected from Steve Harrington at prom,” Robin says as they sway in gentle circles to the beat of the music.

Steve hiccups out a little laugh. “Yeah, well, I had to make sure you knew how to do the real thing, first.”

“And?” Robin asks. “Do I pass?”

“I think you’ve got the hang of it,” Steve says. “Now you have no excuse not to go.”

“Steve,” Robin draws back a little, enough to look up at him without pulling away, “who the hell do you think I’m going to be dancing with at prom? It’s not like I can ask– anyone I’d be interested in.”

Steve’s heart sinks a little, the same way it always does when he’s reminded of how fucking unfair the world is to Robin and to other people like her. He shrugs a bit lamely. “You could go with friends?”

“I guess,” Robin says, staring at the front of Steve’s shirt, suddenly lost in thought.

Steve frowns. He doesn’t even remember what had gotten them onto the subject of prom—it’s January, the dance is months away—but what had started out as something fun is starting to make Robin feel bad, and he can’t have that.

“Hey, I didn’t mean–”

“You should go with me,” Robin cuts in, looking back up at him.

“What?”

“To prom,” Robin says. “You should be my big ol’ platonic date.”

“Right,” Steve drawls. “Because going to prom the year after you’ve graduated doesn’t scream that you haven’t moved on from high school at all. Definitely not sad, or anything.”

“Sure,” Robin agrees wryly. “About as un-sad as not going to your senior dance at all.”

Steve cuts a sharp look at Robin, who just smiles at him.

“I mean, I’m just saying: who better to give me the whole prom experience?” Robin shrugs, tone entirely too innocent to be trusted. “If you go with me, we can dress up and get the dumb picture together, and we can avoid the punch, and you can tell me all the gossip I know for a fact you still know about at least half the people there, we can dance… The whole shebang.”

When Steve had been imagining prom night with Nancy the year before, he’d imagined romance. He’d imagined meeting her eyes across the dinner table and sneaking kisses on the dance floor. He’d imagined going back to his place afterwards and making love, spending the rest of the night worshipping Nancy and making sure she knew how beautiful she’d looked and what a wonderful time he’d had with her.

But when he thinks about it now, he thinks about making jokes at dinner with Robin, about standing around in the tinsel-strewn gym and making catty remarks about who’s dressed terribly and whose dancing is even worse. He thinks about them dancing together, still, and maybe they’ll still go back to his place afterwards, where they can watch terrible movies for the rest of the night.

It doesn’t sound at all like what he’d wanted a year ago.

It sounds perfect, now.

“You’ll have to buy the tickets,” Steve finally says, and Robin’s face lights up. “And I expect my corsage to be very fancy.”

Robin laughs. “Should’ve known you wouldn’t be a cheap date, Harrington.”

“We can go Dutch on dinner, if you want,” Steve says.

“How generous,” Robin deadpans, and Steve doesn’t bother to hold back his own grin.

They both know he’s probably going to pay for dinner. He doesn’t mind.

“You’re serious, though?” Robin asks, looking up at him. “You really want to go to prom just to waltz with me?”

“Well, I went to all the trouble of teaching you.” Steve shrugs.

Robin bites her lip around a smile. “Do I get to lead?”

“For the sake of my shins, you’d better,” Steve says, and Robin laughs, leaning back in to cinch her arms around his waist again.

“You are my favorite person, you know that?” she says softly, just audible over music still crooning from the stereo.

“Yeah,” Steve says, pressing his cheek to the top of her head and closing his eyes. “You’re mine, too.”

[Prompt: Slow dancing]

[fvllingflower]

Something Different

pairing: nonidol!joshua afab!reader

genre: smut

warning: making out, sex toys, toy play, praising, boob play, lingerie, some tears, penetration, biting, hickeys unprotected sex (stay safe!), aftercare

song recommendation: sugar rush by bibi

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

You and your boyfriend, Joshua have been together for about 2 years. In those 2 years, the sex was always rough but you wished it could be more fun but you didn't want to say anything cause you're scared you'd hurt his feelings.

One day, you and Joshua were at his apartment, cuddling and watching some stupid reality show. He had his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you close to his side. The way you looked so comfortable and relaxed made him feel amazing. He couldn’t think of a time when he was happier than right now. He looked over and smiled at you, kissing your cheek.

"I love you" You mumbled.

"Mm? I love you too, love" He pulled you even closer to him as he spoke. You felt his body heat slowly start to warm you up. He smiled at you as he ran his hand through your hair, wrapping it around his fingers. He kissed you on the cheek again.

“can I be so bold as to ask you something?” He asked suddenly.

"Yeah sure" You smiled at him sweetly. He smiled and looked at you as he thought of how to word his words.

“I’m just gonna come out and say it, but I was wondering if you would be comfortable with us trying some new stuff in the bedroom?” He looked shy about it.

"I'd like that" You grabbed his hand as you answered.

"Why kind of stuff exactly?" You looked up at him.

"Well... please don't think less of me for this... but I have this box in my closet with some.. toys and I was thinking we could use them.." His face turned red as he spoke.

"Mm" You nodded with a smile.

"Can you show me what's inside this box?" You seemed so calm about this and in truth you were actually excited to try something out with him.

"Um yeah" He got out of bed and grabbed the box from his closet and brought it to the bed as he sat down next to you. He opened the box and honestly you were surprised with everything you saw.

"Have you used these before?" You kept your eyes on the box.

"N- no I bought them some months ago but I didn't know how to bring it up..." He seemed scared on how you're going to react. You pulled handcuffs out of the box.

"Didn't take you as the guy to tie me up" I teased.

"I think you'd look pretty handcuffed" You added. He just blushed heavily. You pulled more toys out. A vibrator, more types of restraints and some other things you weren't sure of.

"You went all out" You looked at him.

"You don't think I'm weird for this?" He looked nervous.

"I don't think you're a weirdo for this. This is normal, baby. Kinda want to try it out tonight" You smiled.

"Really?" He smiled.

"Mhm" You nodded.

"Oh! I also got something for you to wear" Joshua got up and went back into the closet and came back and handed you a pink lingerie set.

"You want me to wear this?" You raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah... I think you'd look really sexy" He smiled softly.

"Okay" You signed happily and took the lingerie and went into the bathroom and changed into the set. You walked out of the bathroom and saw him, in just his underwear, sitting on the bed and when he saw you his eyes widened and a smile came across his face.

"I knew you'd look sexy" He smiled. You walked over to him, and he put his hands on your hips. You kissed him softly and then pulled away. He pulled you closer to him until you decided to sit in his lap. You two started making out. Your lips were fighting his lips and tongues fighting while your hands flew into his hair. As you two continued to make out, you were grinding your hips against his pelvis. He started kissing down your jawline, down your neck, and down your chest, making sure to leave love bites behind. He pulled your bralette down, freeing your tits from the material. He started sucking on your tits like a hungry baby. He left kisses and bites across your tits.

"Oh-" You gasped when he started biting your nipples.

Joshua flipped you onto the bed so that he could on top of you and kiss down your stomach and leave bites all across your body. He got up from the bed and grabbed something from the sexual box. He got back on top of you and lifted your leg onto his shoulder. You suddenly heard vibrations.

"You know what that sound is, love?" He smirked, keeping the object away from your view.

"Mmm sounds like one of the toys" You smiled.

"Correct.. my love is so smart" He kissed your calf and then suddenly you felt the vibrations against your cunt. You threw your head back against the bed as you moaned loudly.

"Fuck! Josh" You couldn't help but moan loudly.

He rubbed the vibrator against your clothed cunt. He suddenly pulled it away and dropped your leg and got up. He pulled your panties off, leaving you in the lacy bra. He got back in his position on the bed and put your leg back on his shoulder. He pushed the vibrator into your hole. He was fucking the vibrator in and out of you.

"Oh god! Joshua!" You moaned louder.

"Such a good girl" He smiled as he continued fucking you with the vibrator. He pulled the vibrator out and laid it against you clit.

"Oooh fuck!" You moaned loudly.

The pleasure felt so good, that tears were slowly streaming down your face. It didn't take much more of the vibrator for you to cum every where. Joshua turned the vibrator off and placed his fingers against your cunt and collected your release on his fingers and licked it up. He let you rest for a moment before doing more. He caressed your cheek and wiped the excess tears.

"Did that feel good darling?" He asked sweetly.

"Mhm" You nodded weakly.

"Do you prefer the vibrator over me?" He kissed your shoulder.

"No... always you" You mumbled. Joshua smiled.

"Good girl" He kissed your lips. His hands rubbed your sides.

"Do you want more fun?" He asked.

"Please Joshie" You begged. He kissed your neck. He took his underwear, letting his thick, red, angry cock spring out.

"You want me?" He smirked.

"Ooh" You moaned softly as you felt him enter you. You feel yourself stretch around his cock. No amount of preparation can prepare you for his thick cock. Your hands gripped his pecks, nails digging into the muscles, making Joshua groan.

"Yes.. please" You whined. He pushed your legs open. He rubbed his cock against your folds making you whine from his teasing.

"Does that feel good, darling?" He smirked.

"So— so good" You whined. Suddenly he pushed his cock into your hole.

"Handsy today huh?" He teased. You just nodded. He kissed your chest again and smiled.

"Are you ready?" He asked softly and you just nodded again. He starts thrusting slowly, trying to find a rhythm.

"Faster baby" You begged.

He nodded and started thrusting faster and more rough. One thing about Joshua in these 2 years when it comes to sex is that he's always gonna love missionary style, he just loves looking at your face as he fucks your brains out and he loves watching your tits bounce as thrusts fast. He continues fucking you until the only thing coming out your mouth is his name. You kept clenching your walls around him every time he hit your sweet spot and he knew you were getting close.

"Mm- gonna- cum- gonna cum" You spoke between moans.

"I know darling.. cum for me" Joshua spoke softly as he continued fucking rough and with little mercy. You hit your orgasm and made a mess all on him and the bed. He kept thrusting, riding you through your high. He could see your head thrown back and eyes rolled from the pleasure. Just looking at you in that state was enough to make him cum inside you, painting your walls white and sticky. He filled you to the brim and then pulled out. He fell on the bed next to you and you two tried catching your breath.

Once you both calmed down, Joshua went to hug your body. Just peaceful silence between you two. He laid his head on your chest and listened to your heart beat go back to its regular pace. You carefully played with his messy hair.

"You did so good, love"

"So good for me" Joshua continously praised you.

"I wasn't too rough, was I?" He looked up at you.

"No you weren't. You know I like it when you're rough with me.. it feels good" You smiled tiredly.

"I love you" He kissed you softly.

"I love you too" You smiled again.

"Let me clean you up" He got up and started a bath. When the bath was ready, he picked you up and sat you in the tub.

"I'll be right back, I need to change the bed sheets" He kissed you quickly and walked off to change the sheets like he did. When he came back, he saw you fighting to stay awake. He got in the tub and let you rest your back on his chest.

"Is my love sleepy?" He spoke softly and kissed your cheek.

"Mhm" You nodded.

"Let me take care of you and then you can go to sleep, okay?" He kissed the side of your neck.

Joshua carefully washed your body and in between washes, he'd be kissing you, making sure you knew he loves you. Once the bath was over, he picked you up and dried you off and helped put you in clean clothes. He laid you on the bed and then he took care of himself. He got back in the bed with you and kissed your forehead.

"Do you want me to massage your legs?" He spoke softly. You shook your head no.

"Mm. Do you want to go to sleep?" He asked with a gentle smile. You nodded your head.

"Okay, we can do that love" He helped put you under the covers, and he cuddled your body, holding you tight.

"Mm I love you" You mumbled.

"I love you too darling" He kissed your shoulder and closed his eyes as he smiled.

"Now get some rest, pretty" He whispered.

[angstflayer-council]

July Drabble #10- Moving Day

“We’re moving!” Eddie says, spreading his arms wide in greeting as Steve steps out of his car at the Munson trailer that day.

“Yeah I figured. ‘Cause of the U-haul in front of me.” Steve snarks back with a smirk.

“Oh yeah…Well, better get at it, we’ve got a whole trailer of mugs to wrap up and pack up.” Eddie claps his hands together once, then starts taking off the jean jacket he had on.

“You excited about movin’ to a new plac–whoa, whoa! What’re you doing dumbass, you’ll freeze!” 

Eddie rolls his eyes, “Steve, darling, it’s 54 out here and we’re going to be hauling boxes….”

He probably says more, but that’s all Steve heard because Eddie’s arms are now free. Free and toned.

“...Steve!”

“Huh? What–whatever Eds, let’s get crackin’ on this. Just don’t complain to me when you get cold.”

Steve jumps up the steps onto the Munsons’ porch and opens the door, holding it for Eddie to come in after him, but-

“What’re you still standing down there for? You comin’ in or what?”

Eddie stares at him for a second longer with that confused expression, then smirks slowly and struts up the same two steps. 

“Such a gentleman,” he says as he passes Steve, trailing one burning hot finger across his chest as he does.

‘Holy shit, oh fuck, okay, okay, you can do this, Steve. You’ve survived him flirting before, you can do it again.’ Steve hypes himself up while closing the door behind him. ‘Just hope he doesn’t also put his hair up, and you’ll be fi–’

The sight of Eddie pulling his hair up into a bun nearly sends Steve to the floor. He manages to catch himself on the back of one of the chairs at the little table to his left, but only barely.

“Oh shit, you alright, Steve?” Eddie moves to help him stand, but Steve stops him short.

“Nope, nope. Stay there, just–” he keeps his hand up, “Eddie, I swear you’re gonna be the death of me.”

“Me?” Eddie huffs out a nervous chuckle “What do you mea–”

Okay, this is happening. “You’re so goddamn perfect, Eddie. I can’t stand it, you’re like, actually affecting my ability to function and if I don’t get my shit together now, I’m gonna wanna kiss your stupid pretty face, and if I do that,” Steve stands straight, finally taking in Eddie’s shocked expression, “I’m gonna want to pick you up, take you down the hall, and have my way with you.”

Eddie’s responding “Yes!” bursts out of him the millisecond Steve’s done talking. “Yes, yep, definitely would rather do that than pack.”

Steve blinks once, taking in Eddie’s perfectly flushed face, and snatches him up.

Eddie’s legs wrap around his waist immediately, his lips on Steve’s in the exact same moment. 

Ten seconds later, Eddie’s back is pressed into the hallway closet door. 

And at 30, three half-packed boxes are shoved off Eddie’s mattress and Steve does exactly as promised.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook/platonic!OT7

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 [Part 3: Glow]

And suddenly, the thing you feared most becomes the only thing you can seem to trust.

Main tags/Warnings: Werewolf!Jungkook, Werewolf!Bangtan, strangers/enemies to lovers, romantic Jungkook x reader, Platonic bangtan x reader, eventual smut, mentions of past emotional/psychological manipulation, hurt and comfort, fluff!, some angst, actually a bit more than just some, but we're getting spicy

Length: 2.5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

🌲── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ─🐺─ ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ── ⋅ ⋅ ──🌲

None of it makes sense. Or at least, you refuse to let it make any sense.

Suddenly, the medications in your drawer look more like poison to you, as you anxiously unlock your phone to search up the name of it online. But the moment you do, you accidentally accept Jungkook's call- who's unaware of the panic you're in right now. "I was wondering where you were. You're not ghosting me right now, are you?" He laughs, jokes, but you can't really see any fun in it right now.

"I'll- Jungkook can I call you back later?" You say, trying to sound normal- but you don't, because Jungkook's now serious tone gives away the fact that he knows something's up.

"Everything okay?" He worries. "You sound upset." The alpha wolf states, and you sigh, running a hand over our face.

"Yeah- yeah!" You force out. "I'm good, just, a little sick. That's all." You stutter out, staring at the now opened letters from your mother and the final notice you got today.

"I'm sorry but I'm not buying that at all." He sighs on the other end of the line. "Do you need anything? Even just some company?" He asks, offers, and you're not sure about that. "I can just stay on the phone, too. Don't have to come over or anything-" He rambles, when you swallow thickly, cutting him off.

"Do.." You start, before you summon all of your strength to speak it out loud. "…Do you know a medication called Amatropin O-plus?" You ask, and he's quiet for a moment, before he answers you.

"I know of Amatropin A-plus. It's.. a prescription medication used to control instincts in prime-Alphas." He explains, and you put your phone down at that, putting your face into your hands. "Why are you asking?" He presses, saying your name after to gain your attention back.

"What the fuck.." You breathe out. "I'm gonna lose my job- my whole life-" You rant, deadline for your IC-evaluation test staring back at you, before you grab your phone. "How do I get out of an IC test." You demand to know, voice quivering.

"What are you talking about?" Jungkook asks. "An IC-evaluation is mandatory, you can't just get out of one. But why are you even-" He suddenly stops. "…I knew it." He suddenly says.

"Knew what?" You bark. "Knew what?! Has everyone been lying to me now?" You break, as Jungkook's voice is heard again.

"Can you let me in?" He asks, and you're not sure what he's talking about- when a knock is heard on your door. and as you open is, he's right there, ending the call before he slips his phone back into his pant pocket. And you're not sure why exactly you do it- probably some weird wolf-shit that you just don't understand yet, but you just open the door fully, and let him hug you for a good little while.

"What do I do now.." You whine, while he closes the door behind you, and wraps both of his arms back around you.

"We'll figure it out." He reassures. "Can you show me the notice?" He asks, and you part from him and sniffle, collecting yourself a little to walk him into your bedroom, where the floor is littered with ripped open envelopes, handwritten letters, and lastly- the notice, right next to your opened box of medication. You sit down in the mess, and he himself takes his place right next to you, taking the official notice for himself to read over it. "It's a final notice. Where are the other two?" He asks, and you shrug.

"Probably having been sent to my mother." You say, defeated. "God my whole life is over." You complain, face in your hands.

Jungkook doesn't want to pry, but as he reads some parts of the handwritten letters, he begins to put one and one together. It's not unusual- especially with omegas, situations like this happen more often than not, really. Parents hiding their daughters and sons either out of shame or fear- and in this situation in particular, he doesn't know which one it might be.

Some parents are ashamed due to the stigma russounding omegas. Others are afraid because of how they're treated, and how often they're the victims of crimes.

"She knew. She.. must've known that they'd send me this, right?" You ask, and Jungkook shrugs, trying to contain his own instincts right now. You've probably not taken your medication since yesterday now, because your smell is now a lot more present than he's used to.

"Absolutely." He agrees. "She probably didn't react to them either, which is why they searched for your personal address now for the final notice." Jungkook explains. "You can explain to them what your situation is though. I'm sure they can offer you more time to prepare."

"But I've been technically living alone in the city illegally, right?" You worry. "I've been working illegally- oh god what if I go to prison.." You whine, and he runs a hand over your back in comfort.

"You didn't know." He tells you softly. "I'll help you with things, okay?" He offers, and you nod, trying hard to calm down now. "And I'm sure you have a place with Namjoon and the pack too, if they really deem your score turns out too low to stay here." The wolf comforts.

"She's not even my actual mother." You mumble quietly, staring at the letters with an empty gaze. "She knew all along what I was, but she didn't want me like that. She just.. kept me because she promised my dad to take care of me."

Jungkook feels for you. Omegas aren't seen very fondly, especially not by humans- simply brushed off as sex-hungry beasts who can't even take care of themselves properly without a pack or alpha around or a dick inside them. Which is entirely untrue- but years of written fantasy novels and the misuse of them in online erotica and porn in general has given them a stigma they can't shed. Just like alphas are said to be violent creatures with no sense of control, Omegas are just filled with lust and nothing else.

He's upset at that. You don't deserve to be forced into a situation like this- no one does.

"But that's the past now." He tells you. "I very much want you just the way you are. And I promise you, the rest of the pack won't mind you either." He explains, and you nod.

"Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply, before you lean into him, clinging onto his warm body. "Thank you." You mumble, and he can't help but smile.

"No problem."

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"Not surprised." Yoongi says as he finishes his food. "She might've been able to fool other humans, but not other wolves." He says, while Jimin sighs.

"Poor thing." He sympathizes with you. "I remember my mom went through the same thing. She was so glad when I turned out to be a Beta." He remembers, and Jungkook nods.

"I'm going to try and push the evaluation date back as much as I can today." Jungkook explains. "There's no way she can just be evaluated in two weeks, when she's never even had enough time to prepare. It wouldn't be fair at all.." The alpha wolf complains.

"It's never unfair to them in any case." Namjoon worries to himself. "I still can't believe that they're still seen as something to be ashamed of. I mean, that's her mother we're talking about." He shakes his head. He doesn't know the full situation yet, and Jungkook also doesn't want to involve them too much until you yourself want to.

"I'm more concerned about her safety." Yoongi argues. "Is she taking her suppressants?" He asks Jungkook, who shakes his head.

"She's scared of them now. Refuses them." He explains.

"So you left her?" The alpha growls. "You left an omega alone, who's never even experienced her own Instincts without any control before, and is under added pressure of her entire life basically falling apart?" He scolds angrily, causing Jungkook to shrink in on himself.

Yoongi can be quite intimidating.

"Yoongi has a point." Namjoon offers a lot more kindly. "I'd suggest you either stay with her, or even better bring her here so she's in a safer environment while she adapts to things." He suggests.

"I can ask her if she wants that." Jungkook nods, before he gets up. "If not, I'll stay with her instead." He mostly tells himself, leaving the packhouse.

"Do you think that's a good idea?" Hoseok wonders. "I mean.. we all noticed it.. right? Will he be okay alone with her?" He asks, and everyone grows a bit more quiet.

Because you're not just any kind of omega.

And everyone worries about the added challenges you might face because of that.

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"Maybe you should ask about a lower dosage before you just quit them like that-" Jungkook tries, watching you struggle with your clear headache next to him on the couch.

You shake it softly. "No, I don't have time for that." You deny. "I've got too much.. paperwork to fill out and all.." You complain, raising your head to look at all the unopened and opened letters on the table, stacks of paperwork ready to be read and filled out with your personal info as soon as you want to.

Or can, in your case.

"You do have time." He gently argues. "Half a year, remember? Six months to prepare, and these documents don't need to be signed for another three weeks." He attempts to explain to you. "Please think about your health first. Quitting medication you've been on for years just like that isn't a good idea." The alpha urges, and you sigh.

"I don't want them." You argue however. He knows it just has to be overwhelming- if not just mentally, then physically as well. Your body is entirely confused and out of balance now that the usual hormones and other ingredients of your medication aren't present any longer. And yet, you refuse to see anyone for it, and he doesn't know why

Is it shame? Embarrassment? And if so, what does that say about what you think of him?

But he swallows that down, or at least tries to, when you furrow your brows in confusion, suddenly looking around, before your eyes find him. He looks at you in question, when you stare into your kitchen in alarm, getting up to check- but on your way, you already stop, because no, that smell is not coming from there at all.

One look back just offers you Jungkook sitting still on your couch, confused as ever.

"I.. you.. smell that too, right?" You ask, and his golden eyes are unsure.

"I don't really know what you mean." He asks. "What exactly do you mean?"

"Something.. burning. I don't know. It smells like.. I'm not sure, like plastic burning almost." You cringe, and at that, his face softens.

"I'm sorry. That's.. probably me." He chuckles a bit as you walk back towards him to sit down once more. "Your senses are probably.. I guess returning as they're supposed to be." He offers.

"But- my meds are only for instincts-" You start, when he shakes his head.

"No, they're used to prevent sensory overload." He explains. "That's a bit different. It's to basically shut down all the things that make us.. well, different. Our instincts get shut up, our senses become dull, and in turn, our own scents and stuff become almost unnoticeable too because our bodies dont produce the same hormones and stuff." He shrugs. "Which is why I'm trying to tell you you shouldn't just cut them off like that. It'll be incredibly hard to go through that." Jungkook offers.

You feel horrible for him.

For years you believed all the stories told, never actually thinking about what he or any of his kind must be going through. He probably deals with all of this daily but knows how to handle it- and from what you read online, his instincts are even stronger than most.

Which is another thing you want to know more about.

"Jungkook.. what does 'prime' mean?" You ask. "It's.. like, it's in front of your sub-gender, and on the evaluation invite it said the same for mine." You wonder with a good amount of worry.

"That's something for another time." He offers, while you wince from the pain in your head as you move it too quickly to follow him with your gaze as he walks towards the kitchen. "For now, lets settle with some simple human meds for your headache, and then we'll visit a specialist, okay?" He questions, squatting down where you sit on the couch with a glass of water and some regular headache pills.

"...you don't have to go everywhere with me, you know." You mumble, reluctantly taking the items from him- mostly because your headache is getting unbearable at this point.

"I can ask someone else from the pack then- but you shouldn't be out in this state by yourself." He sighs, before he takes his place sitting next to you again.

"Why not?" You whine, after taking the pills and eagerly chugging the cold water down. Somehow, you feel thirsty.

"Because.. You're pretty much a walking target right now." He sighs. "Wolves might not be what they always say but they're still.. some have the potential to be dangerous, let's just say it like that." He offers. "Your scent alone.. is like a drug to alphas especially." He says.

You watch him for a moment.

"Even for you?" You ask, and he shrugs- and only now do you notice the sweat on his hairline.

"Even for me." He nods, before he smiles. "But I've got good self control, so no need to worry." He tries to joke- but you don't find it funny at all.

"I'm sorry." You shake your head, staring into the kitchen where the medications lay. "I.. didn't think about how this could affect you at all.." you apologize, but he just shrugs it off. "No- it's not fair on you at all. You're being nothing but nice to me and I'm acting like a child basically.."

"Your whole life got turned around. I don't blame you for anything." He just shakes it off, and it doesn't make the weight on your soul feel any lighter.

"Jungkook.." you ask quietly, and he leans a bit closer to hear you better. "Can we... still be friends now? Even though I'm.. an omega and all?" You worry.

And Jungkook just laughs.

"Of course we can."

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[harrysmimi]

Gotchu!

Synopsis: YN pranks Harry after he's returned home from the gym

Idea courtesy to @vrittivsanghavi

Series Masterlist | More of my work

It was a day off for YN, so she decided to spend it at home.

She has been making a crochet bag for her mother-in-law for her birthday which was coming up soon. She cosied up on the sofa with a cup of tea with a rerun of her favourite show on, taking in some alone time. She had dropped off Milo to the vet for his checkup, surgery and vaccine updates this morning, he's due pick up in the evening. And she went grocery shopping for few things she needs to try out this new baking recipe.

Though Harry will be home soon, he had to rush to a quick meeting and then he went to the gym for a little. He came home way too soon.

YN heard the door open and close as Harry walked in dressed in his workout clothes and cup of coffee in his hand. His tote bag hung over his shoulder.

"Hey baby." He smiled at her, "I'm just gonna go take a shower real quick and be with you, yeah?"

"Hi, yes of course." YN nodded, and sat there starting on her new project.

Anne loved one of YN's bag she made and wore on one of their girls day out, since then YN's been wanting to make one for her. Her birthday was coming up so it was the best occasion to take advantage of. Gift giving is really nit her thing, so this was a golden opportunity for her there.

Harry's been jealous. He wants one too but he steals her bag everytime so he doesn't really know how to ask for one. He felt stupid. But at the same time it warmed his heart to see how the women who raised him get along so well with the woman he fell in love with.

He's honestly got to up his game of birthday presents for his mum after this. It's always been his forte, but a handmade gift has special value to it to everyone.

YN had been asking him what colour he thinks his mum would like the bag to be. It was a tricky choice to make without letting Anne can not know about this. It is a surprise.

"It's coming along right?" Harry asked he sat next to her, freshly showered and shirtless with droplets of water still shining on his shoulders and chest. YN rught away snuggled to his side.

"This is the last square for the bag." She said as she continued to crochet.

"That colour looks very pretty by the way." He added.

"Yeah? I'm making you one too." She beamed at him in excitement, "you can take this one and I'll give Mummy Anne the other one."

"Oh, thank you love." He chuckled watching her go back to do her thing, "I've been wanting to ask you to make ine for me, but didn't wanted to bother you."

"Please, you're never a bother to me." She rolled her eyes.

"Yeah--" Harry realised something, "baby, where's Milo? He's usually attacking my feet by now." Harry asked looking around.

YN was too busy counting up the stitches on the crochet piece, or was she? Actually she was cooking a plan to prank him in that moment. She's the bored okay!

"He's in the Man Cave you built you or he must asleep in some nook." She shrugged, which had Harry immediately jumping up to go look for their fur baby.

"Did he eat McFish--" he checked the aquarium but the fish was the swimming around with the secure lid still on. "No, baby, did he fell into toilet bowl again?"

"You just came from the bathroom, didn't you see?" YN called from him as he frantically ran to their only bathroom to check.

Milo was just learning to adjust to the closed litter box, which was kept in the bathroom obviously and being the cat he is, he jumped on the box and accidentally falling into the toilet bowl. It was his fault that he didn't closed the lid.

YN had to bathe him twice after that, because well he doesn't let Harry give him the baths. Yeah, he's that spoilt. But Harry still loves him, he's just grown to bond with Milo. Even though the kitten always tries to trip and make him fall the best he could, or when he just attacks his dad's toes for no apparent reason. No, no, he doesn't do that to his mum, he's in fact very cuddly and sweet with her. Well, occasionally the cat likes to cuddle with Harry but that's very rare. That doesn't change the fact he loves that cat to bits.

"He's not there." He announced, "baby can you please put that down? We can find the cat!"

"Check in his man cave, dude!" She tried to break out laughing the best she could, acting nonchalant as Milo does like to be on his own sometimes.

Harry walked upto the little-- well it's not very little box fixed seven feet above the ground for Milo to sit in and rule over his kingdom along with wooden steps and comfiest bedding inside. The cat even sleeps in it at night. Harry had it custom made for just him, with facy ass design and his name plate on the front. Harry called it: Milo's Man Cave.

News flash, Milo isn't in his man cave.

"We have the balcony all netted and shit, where is he?" Harry was stressing out now. "Did you leave the door open by any chance?"

"Uhhh, no..." YN tried to act like she is not very sure and surprisingly it worked.

"Baby, no don't fuck with me like that!" Harry gasped as he ran into the bedroom to grab a shirt. He was soon heading out the door to check but YN's phone started ringing so he stopped thinking someone might have found him. He's microchipped, and got a collar with his name YN's number on it (not his for his privacy and as a prevention from getting his number leaks). He was teary eyed by now.

"Hello Ms. YLN, this is Amy from Medivet. How are you doing today?" The girl on the line spoke.

Now YN doesn't have her phone on speaker but Harry could hear the girl speaking through. It was Milo's vet. But he's still anxious.

"Hello, I'm good, thanks and you?" YN said politely.

"I'm doing fine. I've called you to let you that Milo is ready to be taken home, so you can come pick him up." The girl sounded very upbeat.

Harry immediately pulled out his phone to check, it was Milo's appointment day and his turn to tak him there. Fuck did she just pranked him?

"Yeah, I'll come pick him up in fifteen. Thank you, Amy." YN spoke before the girl was bidding her bye and hanging up.

"That was not good." He sniffled as he went on to grab his car keys with a puppy face on.

"Harry, I'm sorry!" She cooed rushing, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

"Got anxious!" He sighed, "he's just too little."

"I know, I'm sorry, don't cry please." She tried to hug him.

"God my heart in beating fast," he sat down on the dining table chair.

"Hey, I'm sorry I was just trying to prank you." She felt embarassing now as she now hugged him. With her hand rested on his chest she could really feel how fast his heart was beating then which made her feel even more mad and embarrassed. "I'm sorry, Hazza."

"Just don't." He gently pushed her away. "This isn't funny, YN."

"I'm sorry." She repeated herself, now with her own eyes getting teary and a puppy face on she stood there in the corner.

Now, Harry doesn't usually get upset. He's just that caring and understanding but when he rarely does, he gets really badly upset. This seemed to be one of those rare times and he used her first name in ages. She just grabbed her car keys and slipped on her slippers to go pick up the baby.

"Hey, hey, hey, I was just kidding!" He rushed to pull her back giggling, "gotchu!"

"God you little shit, can't just turn this around on me!" She whined now crying like a baby in defeat.

"Don't you cry now." He wiped off her tears, "not going to lie, you did get me until I heard Medivet. Got you back though." He seemed proud of himself as he tightly hugged her.

"No, go away!" She tried to push him off but he barely budged.

"I'm sorry." He mumbled.

"No, move, I have to pick him up." She now managed to pull away.

"Hey come on, this is not fair!" He whined, "well... Baby I'm sorry." He grabbed her face cooing as he placed sloppy wet kisses in her cheek and mouth. It took him a second to realise that. "You sit and relax, I will make the trip to get him."

"Okay." She nodded.

"Am I forgiven?" He asked, to double check.

"Am I?" She countered.

"Of course you are, my darling." He placed another kiss on her mouth and got one right back.

"You are too then." She finally smiled.

"Okay, bet back in thirty, yeah?" He placed a few more kisses on her face.

"Yeah." She nodded.

"I love you!" And she recieved another kiss.

"I love you too!" She reciprocated, "now go bring our son home."

"Yes, yes." He quickly put his shoes on before he was headed out, "oh, keys!"

"Here." She handed him her car key as she was holding it, with that he was heading out again.

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

N O T E :

This is not how I intended it to go but dayummmm this is hilarious!!!!!! *cries"

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[suzukiblu]

currently having EMOTIONS abt your 'Billy adopts kon and it goes p good actually'. Billy's there just like oh man I'm rambling they're gonna think I'm so lame...meanwhile I as a reader (and presumably also Kon and possibly the other characters present??) are actually going 'oh my god. oh my god he's known Kon for like one singular minute and already arranged a flat according to his best predictions of Kon's needs/wants, gave Kon FIRST PICK OF BEDROOM, and has freely offered to learn how to cook AND how to drive for the sole purpose of taking better care of Kon'. like. oh my god. oh my god. Billy is so precious and I want to give him a hug. I hope Kon isn't too overwhelmed or suspicious due to Billy's enthusiasm tho lmao. (pls could there be..more? more Billy adopts kon, if possible?) anyway I love ur writing. thank you. idk how to ask from a sidelong but this is tryingahandinholdingapen btw :D

I gotchu, friend, lol. @tryingahandinholdingapen But yeah I love a good unreliable narrator, one way or the other it's just so fun peppering in all the bits of "the actual situation that the narrator is oblivious to", hahaha.

Rich people are weird, Billy decides, then sets the swiss rolls and zebra cakes and rest of the strawberry shortcakes on the counter in case Kid Flash is still hungry or Superboy wants any of them and closes the pantry. Batman’s just doing his best, he guesses. Though Billy hopes he knows how to coupon, if he’s always buying brand-name. 

Well, he’s Batman. It’d be weirder if he didn’t know how to coupon, Billy figures.

It looks like Superboy ate all of his snack cake while Billy and Kid Flash were in the pantry, at least, which Billy hopes means he liked it. He doesn’t know how much real food Superboy’s had, but Batman’d said he should be fine eating solid stuff and not just whatever he’d been getting in his cloning pod. Though Billy’d still asked if they could get some bottled smoothies and protein shakes and stuff like that to keep in the fridge, just in case. He figured those might be easier for him to eat and digest, if it came up. Or like, maybe appeal to him more, if nothing else? 

Billy has no idea, honestly, he’s just doing his best here. The wisdom of Solomon is pretty useful but it’s not really, like, that much of a parenting guide. 

He is not going to cut Superboy in half. Like, ever. Like he understands the idea of that story but also it is an insane and incredibly freaky story and he is just not invoking it, ever. Just no way.

“If it’s alright, Captain, we should get going. We’ve got a bit of a drive to get home,” Mrs. West says, then sighs as Kid Flash empties the boxes of swiss rolls and zebra cakes in lightning-fast succession, though he leaves the strawberry shortcakes alone. Billy checks in the fridge and offers him a couple of the more filling smoothies–peanut butter and banana should be more filling, anyway, even with a speedster’s appetite. He steals those from convenience stores sometimes, when he can. He can’t be Captain Marvel all the time. 

Well–maybe he could, he guesses. But he does miss being himself, sometimes.

“Thanks, man,” Kid Flash says eagerly, then immediately shotguns both smoothies. 

“Wally,” Mr. West says in exasperation as Mrs. West sighs again. “Don’t eat Captain Marvel out of house and home.” 

“It’s okay, we’ve got lots of food!” Billy promises cheerfully. “I work with Flash, I know how hungry he gets. I bet it’s way worse when you still have growth spurts to get through.” 

“It is so much worse,” Kid Flash mutters vehemently, eyeing the empty smoothie bottles in his hands accusingly. Billy gets him another peanut butter banana one on principle. He really doesn’t want Kid Flash to be that hungry. It’s . . . not a good feeling. 

“We appreciate it, Captain, really, but we’ve got snacks and a cooler in the car,” Mrs. West says. 

“Oh, good,” Billy says, relieved. Mr. and Mrs. West both give him strange, inscrutable looks, then glance back to Superboy. Billy wonders if he likes peanut butter banana smoothies. Though if he liked the snack cakes, there’s strawberry banana ones too, so that might be better? And strawberry kiwi, but that’s probably less filling. “Superboy, do you want a smoothie too?” 

“No,” Superboy says. Billy pauses again, then gets him a strawberry banana one and tosses it over. Superboy catches it, eyes it, and then opens it and takes a sip.

Okay, Billy thinks he’s getting the hang of this. But also they should probably talk about how “no” needs to actually mean “no”. Like, for Superboy he’s sure it’s just like that phase when toddlers want to say “no” to everything no matter what, but it’s still important for him to understand. Billy doesn’t want to accidentally upset him or overstep because Superboy doesn’t know how to really say “no” to something.

Yeah, they definitely need to talk about that, he decides.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Treat You 4

Warnings: dark elements, noncon, violence, abuse, other dark elements. Proceed with caution. (Tall!reader)

Note: Please let me know what you think as it helps me a lot with ideas and I love interacting with you all.

Part of The Club AU

Around noon, you think about leaving. You should head out before you grow bothersome. As you slide your laptop into the crochet bag, that man approaches. The young one with the bright brown eyes.

“You leaving?” He asks. His apron is gone and he has one of the flat cafe boxes in his hands.

“Yeah, should go,” you stand, at least half a foot taller. You slope your shoulders and bend your neck, “got a long way to go.”

“Oh, yeah? You walking?” He asks.

You stare at him, hesitantly nodding.

“I’m done. Half-shift today so… yeah. Um, could I walk with you?”

You blink, “why?”

He chuckles, “because I want to.”

You look down and hook your bag over your shoulder, “you don’t have to… you already gave me the tea–” your lip starts to tremble, “you don’t have to be nice because you think I’m pathetic.”

“I don’t think that,” his tone turns steely, “I just thought… we seem close to the same age and you’re nice so, well, yeah, I don’t have a lot of friends and I was hoping…”

“Oh.”

He shifts his weight on his feet, “oh?”

“I didn’t think…” you trail off and shrug, raising your eyes meekly. “I’m sorry. I hope I didn’t insult you.”

“No, you didn’t. You couldn’t,” he lets himself smile again. “It’s a nice day. I wouldn’t mind a walk.”

“Hm, well, maybe halfway,” you agree.

“Sure.”

You twist your finger in your fist, not sure what to do next. He outstretches his arm towards the door, “you first.”

You slouch and go to the door, pushing outside and stepping quickly out of Peter’s way as you hold it open. He follows and you let go. You turn and head back along your usual route. He catches up and keeps pace with your long legs.

“Do you like strawberries and cream?” He asks as he flips up the lid of the box, “special scones. They’re yummy.”

“Oh, uh, that’s nice but…”

“You haven’t eaten,” he offers the box to you.

“I’m not hungry,” you argue but your belly rumbles in rebellion. You hang your head in embarrassment.

“It’s fine, I just need to save one for May.”

“May? You’re girlfriend?”

“My aunt,” he fills in and takes a scone, shoving it in your direction. “Come on, you think I can finish all these?”

You accept it and chew your lip. You walk to the corner before you dare to take a bite. It crumbles and you try to catch the mess with your hand. It’s so good and sweet it makes your empty stomach squeeze.

“Good?” He asks.

“Mhm,” you hum.

“So, you got a boyfriend waiting at home? You can take one for him.”

“Boyfriend,” you murmur, “no…”

“Ah, not that far in yet.”

“No boyfriend,” you insist.

“Right, well, me too. No boyfriend, no girlfriend,” he laughs.

You’re quiet as you nibble on the scone. You take measured bites, both savouring the taste and trying not to show how ravenous you really are. You don’t often get treats like this. You don’t always eat in a day.

“Shame about your computer. You know, I’m a bit of a techy, I could try to fix it,” he says.

“No, that’s okay, it’s… broken.”

“Never know if you don’t try,” he suggests.

“I can’t pay you to fix it.”

“That’s fine, I didn’t say anything about money.”

“So why would you want to?”

“Well, I thought we were making friends. Friends help each other out.”

“Friends.”

“Yeah, actually, I was gonna ask, do you like video games?” He chimes.

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?” He echoes.

“Never played em.”

“Never… well, guess what? I got a few friends coming over, you could tag along, we could play some MarioKart.”

“Wouldn’t be any good,” you mutter.

“You’d be great,” he insists, “It’s Friday night, if you’re interested. I can give you my phone number.”

“Don’t have a phone,” you grumble, looking away in embarrassment.

“Well, you could have my email.”

“Computer’s busted.”

“Yeah, right, forgot,” he sighs, “well, how about if you’re interested, you could meet me at the cafe on Friday. At three? My shift ends then.”

“Maybe,” you reply evasively and take the last bite of scone.

“You live alone then?” He asks.

“My dad…”

“Oh, that’s cool. Just you and your dad?”

“Mom remarried.”

“Ah,” he accepts coolly, “it’s just me and Aunt May. My parents are gone and Uncle Ben passed a few years ago.”

You gulp as a shiver rolls over you. You feel awful for him. You can complain about your dad’s outbursts but at least he’s still around.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t, please, I’m lucky, I got May and now you, right? Cause we’re friends.”

“Sure,” you stop at the crosswalk and turn to him, “it’s far from here. I can go on my own.”

“I don’t mind.”

“You live around here?” You wonder.

“No, actually, the other way, but I’ve been standing behind a counter all day–”

“You worked. You should go home,” you say.

He sniffs as his smile falls, “do you think you’ll come on Friday?”

You think about it. After all he’s done, the tea, the scone, and just being kind, you shouldn’t say no.

“Okay.”

“Okay? Yay!” He claps his hands and you wince. “I’ll see you Friday at three.”

“Friday,” you confirm, “er, bye then.”

“Bye,” he chirps back, “be safe, alright.”

You hum and cross the street. As you get to the other side, you look back. He stands and watches you. You give a tiny wave and keep going, walking until you’re certain he’s out of sight. 

You hope your dad’s calmed down. He usually has by now. You stop just a block away from the building. You can’t make yourself go any further.

You turn and head down to the small park behind the pharmacy. You find a bench to sit on and bring your bag into your lap. You peek inside, examining the cracked edge of your laptop. You wonder if you still have your library card laying around, though you don’t know if you can scrape up the money to pay for the computer time.

You look up and your head snaps around as you see a spec at the corner of your sight. It’s nothing. Just the old swings and slide. Probably just a robin or piece of trash blowing by.

[mynameismckenziemae]

Unbroken

Part 11

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x You

Summary: More time goes by and Bradley moves in. You get some news that shocks you to your core.

Warnings: 18+ MDNI! Adult language and themes, pregnancy talk.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Sick again, sweetheart?” Bradley asks with a yawn as he stumbles into the bathroom. He rubs your back as you empty your stomach into the toilet.

“Yeah,” you moan as your stomach turns again. “Sorry I woke you up again.”

This is the fourth morning in a row you’ve woken up on your way to the bathroom covering your mouth. You both had the stomach flu a few weeks ago and Bradley’s back to normal but you haven’t felt right since.

“It’s okay, I had to get up anyway,” he murmurs, wetting a washcloth with cool water and wiping it over your forehead. “Maybe you should go to the doctor?”

You nod. “I think so too. I’ll call when they open.”

“Mmkay,” he replies, placing a kiss on the top of your head. “Let me know what they say.”

“I will,” you say, wiping your mouth and flushing the toilet once you close the lid. “Thanks.”

“For what?” He asks, crouching down to brush your hair off your neck to place the cool cloth there.

“Taking care of me when I’m sick,” you reply, closing your eyes as you remember the way Chet laughed and left you heaving on the ground the first time he got you drunk. “Not being grossed out by me emptying my guts the past few mornings.”

“I want to because I love you, Em,” he says, rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“I love you too,” you whisper.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Once the nausea is at bay, he helps you to your feet and gets in the shower as you brush your teeth.

“We should be done by 4 today, and then I’m going to stop by the apartment to pick up the last of the boxes, but you can call me if you need anything. We’re just in the classroom today,” he says over the running water.

You had been meaning to ask him to move in for a while but didn’t know how to bring it up; but that was remedied when you blurt it out after a particularly good round of morning sex a few weeks ago.

“I will,” you say, heading back to the bedroom to lie down as another round of nausea hits.

Emma: Hey guys, I’m not feeling well again and I’m gonna make an appointment with my doctor when they open. Do you think one of you could see Akin’s new calf? That’s all I had on the schedule for today.

Gav: Of course, feel better.

Noah: No problem. Let us know how it goes.

Emma: Will do. Thanks guys. I appreciate it.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You snooze until Bradley leaves you with a kiss and a reminder to call the doctor.

You set an alarm and make an appointment for 10:00 AM and plan to have labs drawn beforehand.

Emma: Made an appointment for 10:00.

Bradley: Good, let me know how it goes. Love you.

Emma: I will. Love you too.

You drop a coffee off for Charlie on the way to the lab since the therapy department is connected to the hospital.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Charlie yawns before she takes a drink. “Jake kept me up way too late last night.”

“Gross,” you scrunch your nose. “Be careful what you say, I actually might throw up this time.”

“Stomach still bothering you?” She asks after she giggles.

“Yeah, it woke me up again this morning,” you reply, checking your watch. “I better go though, they want me to have labs drawn before the visit.”

“Let me know what they say,” she murmurs, hugging you.

“I will,” you reply, giving her a squeeze before letting her get back to work.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

By the time the doctor comes in, you’re feeling back to normal and feeling a little silly for making an appointment.

“Good morning, Emma,” your doctor smiles as she shakes your hand. “We’re still waiting on a few labs to come back but I figured I’d come in and take a look at you and ask you a few questions.”

You nod, lying back as she guides you down and begins her exams, starting with your stomach.

“Any breast tenderness?” She asks as she palpates said area.

“A little,” you answer. “It’s not uncommon for me though; I take my birth control pills continuously, taking a break every 3 months to get a period.”

“Okay. When was your last period?” She asks as she helps you up.

“About a week before we got sick,” you reply, swinging your legs at the end of the exam table.

“Alright, let’s see if those results are in,” she says, clicking around. “Well, I know what’s going on.”

“What?” You reply, heart pounding.

“You’re pregnant.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“…help me put her feet up and get an ice pack,” you hear the doctor say. She sounds far away.

“What…what happened?” You say, sounding funny to your own ears; your tongue feels heavy.

“You fainted, honey. It’s okay, happens all the time,” the sweet old nurse reassures you, wiping a cool washcloth on your forehead. Just like Bradley did this morning.

Oh God, Bradley.

Your stomach rolls as you think of him leaving you.

“I can’t be pregnant,” you say, trying to shake your head. Your lips go numb as you begin to hyperventilate. “I take my pill every day, I’ve never missed one or taken one late. I’m not- I can’t-“

“Shhh,” the nurse shushes you. “Everything’s okay. Breathe with me, okay? Inhale for 3. 1…2…3, good.”

“Is there anyone I can call? Someone close by?” The doctor asks from your other side once your breathing is back under control.

“My sister, Charlie Seresin. She works down in PT,” you say, closing your eyes as the nausea starts to creep in.

“Oh, I know Charlie. I’ll go get her,” the nurse nods and pats your hand before heading toward the door.

“Is this a welcomed surprise?” The doctor asks as she rubs your hand. “I know last time it wasn’t.”

“I-I don’t know,” you say, closing your eyes as you try not to panic. “It’s not like last time, no. My boyfr-my Bradley-we just started to go without condoms a few months ago, I thought it would be okay since I’m so diligent with taking it.”

“You were doing everything right,” she assures you. “According to your HCG levels, you’re about 6 weeks along, which coincides with you being sick.”

“And it’s probably not very effective if you throw up shortly after taking it,” you say, lip trembling as you begin to cry as you realize. “I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not-“

There’s a knock on the door and Charlie rushes in.

“What’s wrong?” Charlie asks, rushing to your side.

“I’m…pregnant,” you choke out on a sob.

“Hey, hey, look at me,” she says, wiping a tear and holding your face between her hands. “Bradley’s not Chet. Bradley’s not going to leave you. Okay?”

You nod through your tears.

“He loves you and he’s going to be so happy,” she whispers, kissing your forehead. “He’s going to be the best dad and you’re going to be the best mom. This isn’t a bad thing. It’s maybe a little sooner than you’d like, but it’s going to be okay, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, trying to believe her.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Charlie holds your hand as the doctor goes over what to expect in early pregnancy and helps you set up an ultrasound for the following morning.

All while you ignore the constant buzzing of your phone.

“Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” Charlie asks as she walks you out to your truck.

“Yeah,” you say, giving her the best smile you can muster.

“Okay, text me when you get home,” she says, obviously not convinced.

“I will,” you agree.

“Everything’s going to be okay, Em. This isn’t a bad thing. Bradley’s not going anywhere,” She murmurs after wrapping you in her arms. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“Okay,” you nod, tears filling your eyes again.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

You drive home on autopilot and suddenly you’re in your driveway without remembering a thing about the ride.

You pull out your phone and wince at the 11 missed calls and 7 new texts from Bradley as you open Charlie’s thread.

Emma: I’m home. Gonna lay down for a bit, I’m exhausted.

Charlie: Okay, please call Bradley, he’s freaking out.

Emma: 👍

Instead, you turn your phone off before changing into one of Bradley’s threadbare US Navy tees and climbing under your covers as tears steadily fall from your eyes. A sob leaves you when you smell his sweet shampoo on your pillow.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“Emma?! Where are you?!” Bradley’s panicked voice pulls you from your slumber.

“In here,” you croak; your voice hoarse from your sobs. Your head pounds as you sit up.

He rushes into the bedroom and wraps you in his arms. “Thank God. That was the longest 27-minute drive of my life” he breathes, pulling back to look you in the eye, face falling as he takes in your tear-swollen eyes. “Oh sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

You just shake your head and bury your face into his shoulder as you begin to cry again.

“Whatever it is, we’ll get through it, okay?” He says, stroking your back which just makes you cry harder. “It’ll be okay.”

Your tears eventually begin to slow and you take a deep breath before pulling away from his shoulder but unable to meet his eye.

“What’d the doctor say?” he asks, wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

“That I’m not sick,” you whisper.

“Okay, that’s good,” he replies, pressing a kiss to your lips and tilting your chin up. “What’s going on then? Talk to me, baby.”

You take a shaky breath and finally meet his eye.

“I’m pregnant.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: sorry for being MIA lately. Been a little discouraged and a lot busy.

Did anyone see this twist coming? 🙂

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I love hearing what you think in comments/reblogs!

Tagging (please let me know if you want to be added/removed!):

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