#this is like station 19 all over again | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

parkerflix · 11 months

Text

—cielo en la mente

miles morales x gn!reader

genre: fluff, angst

wc: 4.5k

synopsis: miles morales had you seeing double. but what if it wasn’t your eyes playing tricks?

warnings: atsv spoilers! canon divergence

taglist: CLOSED as of 6/19!

part of my 1k celebration! & part two to this fic!

You had been ignoring Miles lately. It wasn’t that you wanted to see him, but you were confused. Nothing seemed to make sense, or add up.

You sighed, sweeping up the last of the hair on the ground. You mom had already packed up and gone home, telling you to finish the last of the cleaning while she got dinner ready. You went over to the wash bowls, rinsing the hair brushes from the barbicide.

The front door had been locked, and music was playing from the speakers. A bang came from the front door, and you turned around to see Miles standing there.

His hair was out of braids again, and he seemed to be wearing the baggiest jeans and sweater you’d ever seen. He waved at you awkwardly, and you walked over, standing in front of the lock. His eyes were pleading with you to open the door, and you sighed, knowing you wouldn’t be able to leave him outside.

You unlocked the door & opened it so he could come inside. The silence between the two of you was awkward, but neither one of you knew what to say.

“Hey.”

You fiddled with the keys, and went to lock the door, stopping when he asked you a question.

“Could you do my hair? Please?”

It was such a simple question, but it still caught you off guard. Miles normally never asked you to do his hair, he’d just show up during regular hours or text you in the middle of the night and you’d do his hair in your room.

You steeled yourself, and nodded.

“Yeah. Follow me.”

Miles quietly followed you to the washbowls, and sat down at a clean one.

“Do you want me to use a different shampoo & conditioner?”

He was quiet for a moment,

“Can you use the ones you like the most?”

You hummed in agreement and pulled the mint scented shampoo and conditioner. You eyed the deep conditioning treatment, and grabbed that off the shelf.

Returning back to Miles, you leaned his head back into the wash bowl before starting the water.

“Let me know if it’s too hot or cold, okay?”

“Ah!”

You quickly turned off the water and panicked before you heard Miles let out a laugh.

“I was joking. The water is fine.”

You started up the water again and flicked some towards his face.

“Ack!”

“That’s what you get for scaring me like that!”

You both laughed, and soon it turned into a comfortable silence. Grabbing the shampoo, you made sure to lather his hair & rise it out. Miles was secretly a cry baby when he got shampoo in his eyes, so you covered his eyes with your hand.

Grabbing the deep conditioning treatment, you placed it in his hair, making sure to really get his roots. His hair had definitely seen better days, and you were confused how it got to this state when you were the last one to do his hair.

You finished with the deep conditioning treatment and went on with the regular conditioner, the minty scent hitting your nose as the cap opened.

“Smells good.”

Miles had been quiet up until now, and you genuinely thought he had fallen asleep.

“Yeah. Mint.”

He hummed.

“I like it, it seems to be very you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up at the comment, and nodded, knowing he couldn’t see you nodding.

You rinsed the last of the conditioner out of his hair, and wrapped it in a towel, tapping his shoulder to let him know you were done.

He opened his eyes and stretched out, reminding you of a cat.

“That was nice. You should do this as a profession, I think it would suit you.”

You rolled your eyes.

“Har har. You act like I haven’t been doing your hair and the neighbor’s hair since I could walk.”

Miles gave you a small smile and walked over to your station.

You got your tray ready with all your supplies, not noticing Miles was watching you.

You were different from Miles. He wasn’t sure if you existed in his universe, but he hoped that there was a version of you, hopefully near him. He had seen how you treated him, so gentle but had an edge with your words. He wondered what his counterpart in this universe meant to you.

“You know,” he started, catching your attention when he paused.

“You’re pretty special. You have a cool heart.” Miles inwardly cringed at that, wondering what the hell a cool heart could be.

“Mmm. Thanks.”

“Also, thanks for doing my hair.”

You nodded, ignoring the way something in your stomach flipped.

Miles was never one to outwardly express his gratitude, he was always the type to just show his gratitude and appreciation in smaller ways. He was more reserved with his words in that sense, and this change was different to you.

The rest of time you were doing his hair was relatively quiet, Miles asking you small questions here and there. You enjoyed the atmosphere, happy that you got to spend some quiet time with him.

You finally finished the braids after a little while, showing him the end result. It was the same style that you had done before, but you just thought he looked good in them.

Miles got up from the chair, and got closer to the mirror to inspect them.

He looked at himself in the mirror, unable to shake off a feeling of happiness that swam through him. His hair had never really been in braids before, it was something that he just assumed didn’t suit him, but here he was. He could tell that you put so much effort and love into them, it made his heart swell with joy.

He turned to you, and engulfed you in a hug. He wasn’t one to be affectionate with people he just met, but there was something about you that drew him in, and made him comfortable.

You froze for a second, before hugging him back, ignoring the nudging questions at the back of your mind.

“Thank you.”

“No problem.”

You had asked Miles that day if he wanted to come over for dinner, but had declined and said he had a few things to do. You understood, but felt a little sad that he wasn’t going to come over.

The rest of the night had gone by pretty unceremoniously, giving you time to think about Miles and his weird behavior.

You sighed and texted him, seeing if he was willing to meet you for breakfast in the morning at your spot. He quickly responded with a yes, and a small pit of anxiety formed in your stomach, nervous for the morning.

The next morning your alarm went off and you groaned, not wanting to get up. Turning your alarm off, you closed your eyes for a moment, before remembering you were meeting Miles for breakfast.

Swearing under your breath, you quickly got up and threw on a sweater and jeans, not even bothering to worry about anything else.

Your mom seemed to still be asleep, so you slipped out of the front door, quickly switching your slippers for shoes at the door.

Your spot wasn’t far from either of your houses, and the walk was always nice in the mornings.

Yosi’s diner was the place that you’d been going to even since you were little kids, back when there were 5 of you coming. Even after your parents stopped coming, you and Miles made it a tradition to only have breakfast there. It held memories of you guys sharing good news, and bad.

Miles had seen you cry because a date had stood you up the night before, and you had been his support when his dad passed. Yosi’s diner meant everything to you both.

You finally made your way to the entrance, the flickering sign feeling like a signal that you were home. Opening the door, the soft tinkling of the bell along with the smell of pie placed a smile on your face.

Yosi was standing behind the counter, telling one of the servers some instructions. She was slightly older than you & Miles, with an aura that made everyone comfortable around her. Her parents had opened the diner, naming it after her when they found the place, hoping for her to inherit it.

She glanced at you and smiled. Shooing away the server, she rounded the corner of the counter and came to give you a hug.

“It’s so good to see you! Donde estabas escondida? It feels like I haven’t seen you in so long.”

You chuckled, embracing her.

“I’m sorry. El salón está tan ocupado, toda la gente quiere su pelo arreglado. I’m sure quiñce season is right around the corner.”

She laughed a parted from you, turning her head to the booth at the end of the right side of the diner.

“He’s been waiting for you.”

You hummed.

“He’s in a mood, good luck.” She walked away after that, going back into the kitchen.

You took a deep breath and walked over to the booth. Miles had been watching you since you walked in, eyes never leaving you until you sat down.

“You’re late.”

You rolled your eyes.

“We never agreed on a time.”

“We always meet at the same time.”

Before he could respond, food came to your table, your usual and his usual.

He always got the same chocolate chip pancakes with some whipped cream and a few cherries on them. He never mentioned it, but you knew he got it because his dad used to get them and share with him. You assumed it helped him feel closer to his dad, and understood it was his way.

Both of you tucked into your food, not saying anything until he broke the ice.

“So, que quieres?”

“Damn, what’s with the attitude?”

“There’s no attitude here mamí, just asking a question.” He said, taking a big bite of his pancakes.

You dropped your cutlery, glaring at him.

“Seriously, qué te pasa? What the hell did I do to deserve this weird ass mood?”

Miles didn’t want to say what he was thinking, but he was jealous. He hadn’t seen you in forever, and he had passed by the salon the night before, seeing you doing someone else’s hair when you were closed. He could tell that you seemed comfortable with whoever the guy was, your smile the same you normally only gave him. He hated feeling this way, especially because you weren’t huge on jealousy. Previous partners of yours always were jealous of Miles, and you’d go to him and tell him how annoying it was, not knowing they had reason to feel jealous. He knew you better than anyone, and he wasn’t shy to show it.

“Nothing.”

You raised a brow, not buying his words.

He glanced up at you, seeing your eyes already trained on his face.

“What?”

“Seriously, what’s with you?”

“Nothing, mamí. How was your night last night?” He had hoped that switching up the topic would divert your attention.

“Well, mi mama hizo pupusas, she left some for you. She missed you at dinner, you know.”

“I miss your mom too. Tell her I’ll try to come over one of these days for dinner. Did you miss me at dinner?”

Your face heated up slightly, and you cleared your throat.

“I-no.”

Miles’ face had a huge grin on it, and you knew you were in trouble for it.

“Oh so you did miss me? Mamí, if you miss me that much, you always know where my house is, we could remedy that.” He winked at you, making you roll your eyes.

“First of all, you know I hate when you call me mamí. Makes me feel like those groupies Jaime has. Secondly, you wish I missed you. I haven’t climbed up your window since you decided you'd rather spend everyday with me, papi.”

He laughed at that, he knew you knew he hated being called papi by anyone but his mom. Somehow, whatever tension that had grown between you two had dispersed and left you both pushing away any budding feelings. The rest of breakfast had gone without addressing it anymore, and Miles was thankful.

When it was time for the bill to come, Miles stopped you before you could even pull your card out. You thanked him, and he waved you off, not too worried about it.

“Well, thanks for breakfast.” You said, grabbing your things and getting ready to leave.

“Can I walk you home?”

You nodded and you both got out of the booth, waving bye to Yosi when you left the building.

“So, what’s with the gentleman act?”

Miles clutched his chest like he was wounded and gave you the saddest look he could muster.

“Amor, cómo puedes decir eso? I’m always a gentleman.”

You pushed him slightly, making him burst out into a fit of laughter.

“The only time I’ve seen you be a gentleman was when you were dating that cute enby.”

“Which one?”

“The one with glasses??? God, I can’t remember their name but they really were like your polar opposite, I have no clue how you managed to date them.”

Miles thought about it, and nodded his head.

“Ah, I know who you’re talking about. They were cool. Liked science, and wanted to major in it. We still talk now and then.”

“Mírate, keeping friends who aren’t just me! Rio should be proud.”

“You’re annoying, you know that?”

“Yet you still hang out with me. Admit it, me amas.”

You were too busy looking around the neighborhood to notice Miles’ face get flustered, and he shrugged it off, knowing you didn’t have any hidden meaning behind it.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m stuck with you.”

You glanced at him and smiled, before realizing you guys had already made it to your apartment building.

“Well, this is me. Te veo mañana?”

He nodded and you gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before walking into your building.

Once you had disappeared into the building, Miles groaned and ran his hand down his face. His feelings for you were going to be the death of him.

The next day you regrettably had school.

Both you and Miles went to different schools, him getting into Visions and you going to the local highschool.

You slipped into your uniform, never quite getting used to how annoying the polo shirt looked on you. Fixing your hair a bit, you ran to grab your shoes from the doorway before Miles showed up.

Your mom was sitting at the dining room table, sipping a cup of coffee watching you frantically grab all of your stuff for the day.

“Llevaste comida?”

You grabbed an apple from the counter & a couple bucks off your piggy bank in your room.

“Yeah, totally.”

“Don’t be lying to me. No puedes ir sin comer, te vas a enfermar.”

“I’m not! I’ll see you when I come home?”

She nodded and you gave her a peck on the cheek, running over to your window and making your way down the fire escape.

Miles was already waiting for you, a shit eating grin on his face.

“Don’t-”

“Two days in a row, I’m starting to think you’re hiding a boyfriend up there.”

“Oh shut up.”

The walk to your school was fairly the same except today he bought you a breakfast sandwich. You gave him a questioning look, and he just ignored it.

Making it to your school first, you both stopped at the entrance, shuffling to the side to not block the doors.

“So, any big plans for today at school?”

Miles shook his head.

“Nah, there’s a bunch of lectures and maybe a lab or two. The school’s not that much different than yours.”

“Mmmm, well. Don’t forget to make friends!”

Before he could respond, someone behind you called your name and wiggled their brows.

“Nice boyfriend! Maybe that’s where you sneak off to all the time!”

You flipped them off & took a deep breath, turning back to Miles.

“Maybe you should be worried about making friends.”

“Nah, they just know you and I are close.”

“What’s that about though?”

“What?”

“You sneaking off?” Miles tried to hide the jealousy that was creeping into his voice.

“Oh that.” You scratched your neck and gave him a bashful smile.

“Everyone thinks I’m seeing someone but I go out and grab lunch nearby and then come back. We’re technically not supposed to leave campus so…”

Miles laughed and you felt some pride in your chest.

“That does make more sense.”

You both idly chatted for a little longer before the first bell rang, and you knew he had to go.

“I’ll see you after school?” You said, hopefully.

Miles shook his head and gave you a sad smile.

“Sorry amor, I gotta help my mom and my uncle with some stuff at home.”

You nodded, understanding.

He ruffled your hair and you swatted his hand away, annoyed.

“I’ll see you around then!”

He saw you walk into his school and checked his phone, seeing he was late for school. He didn’t really care though, knowing he would rather spend time with you than be on time.

On your way home from school, you decided to stop in at a bookstore.

You were strolling the aisles, trying to find something that you were interested in. You had found a book, and someone accidentally knocked into you.

“Sorry!”

You turned around and saw Miles there, in a completely different outfit from when you saw him leave for school.

“Oh hey! I thought you were helping your mom with something at home?”

Miles scratched his neck awkwardly and nodded.

“Yeah, turns out she didn’t really need my help.”

“Oh did Aaron have it under control?”

“Yes!” He coughed and glanced around the store.

“Yeah, she had him helping so there wasn’t that much for me to do.”

“So you decided to come to a bookstore?”

“Yes?”

You hummed and turned around again, looking for the book again.

You could tell that Miles was still hovering behind you, hearing the shuffling of his Jordan’s.

“Miles,qué quieres?”

“Uhh… I was wondering if that book was good? I’ve been trying to find something new to read that isn’t an action type of book.”

You whipped around, stumbling into him not realizing how close he had been behind you.

“Are you asking me for a book recommendation? Because if so, we should do a book swap!”

“Book swap?” He tilted his head and gave you a confused look.

“Yeah! We can find books from our favorite genres for each other! I know they have a little cafe area and we can read them there!”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“Great! Do you wanna meet up front in like 15 minutes?”

He nodded and you clapped and walked off to a different section of the store.

15 minutes later you both met up at the front, both with books in your hands.

Getting to the register, you plucked Miles’ book out of his hands and paid for both of them. He gave you a look and you just shrugged.

“Think of it as payment from breakfast yesterday.”

You thanked the cashier and both of you had made your way to the cafe.

Miles watched you order a drink, and declined your offer for anything. Both of you sat down at a couch, and you put the bag with the books in the middle.

Pulling out both, you handed him the one you picked out for him.

“Six of crows?”

“Yeah! It follows like a group of thieves and you get to see all the different perspectives, I really enjoy it.”

“Oh, sounds cool.”

You smiled and looked down at the book you held.

“Oh hey, Lord of the flies!”

“You’ve read it before?”

You shook your head, a small frown tugging at your lips.

“No, you and I used sparknotes to write my essay on it?”

Miles’ eyes widened.

“Right. Right.” He cleared his throat.

“Well, after that, I decided to read it and I think you’d enjoy it.”

You hummed and nodded, opening the book and beginning to read.

Miles opened his book as well, and was reading, until he felt your head on his lap. He looked down and you and you smiled, seemingly not thinking anything of it.

Miles on the other hand, his heart was racing and he was hoping you couldn’t hear it. He wasn’t uncomfortable per say, he just didn’t know if it was normal between you and his counterpart. You didn’t seem to notice his inner turmoil and were fixated on the book.

A little while had passed, and Miles had seemingly got more comfortable, mindlessly playing with a strand of your hair. You were halfway done with the book when your phone had gone off. You sat up, Miles’ hand dropping down to his side.

Picking up the phone, you saw your mother had texted you to come home, she needed you to run an errand for her.

Packing up your stuff, Miles stood up when you did.

“I gotta head home, my mom needs me to run a few errands for her.”

“Want me to help?”

You looked at him and smiled.

“Sure. I know mom would love to see you anyways.We can talk about the books on the way there.”

You both quickened your pace, and you grabbed Miles’ hand dragging him along with you.

Neither of you had realized the whole way to your house that you were still holding hands, fingers intertwined.

Miles had told you what he thought about the book so far, and he was interested in it. You explained some things he wasn’t sure about, and gave him some fun facts about the characters and the author.

In turn,he told you about the book he had recommended and about the movie that they had made based on the book. He hated the movie.

Finally getting to your apartment building, you climbed up the stairs to your apartment, dropping his hand to look for your keys.

You opened the front door and the smells of cinnamon permeated your senses.

“Ya llegué! Traje a Miles también!”

You kicked off your shoes and Miles followed suit, staring at the photos on the walls. The walls were covered in pictures of you and your mother, of you and him, and your families together. He pulled his attention away, following you into the kitchen.

You gave your mother a hug from behind, kissing the top of her head. She let out a laugh and shook her head. She would always say you’re her favorite child (you were her only child).

“Dónde estabas? Necesito que lleves esto para mi.”

“Estábamos en la tienda, quería otro libro para leer.”

Your mother turned to Miles, giving him a big hug. He hugged her back awkwardly and you snickered at his eyes pleading for your help.

She parted from him and pointed to the fridge.

“Te dejé algunas pupusas, llévalos a tu mamá también.”

“Uh gracias, I’ll make sure to take them to her.”

Both you and your mom shared a glance and she shrugged, before walking over to hand you a package.

“Just this?”

“Yes, and then no getting sidetracked, you have to come home straight after. I trust you will be with them, right Miles?”

“Si!”

He didn’t miss the way you bit your lip, trying to hold in a laugh. You both bid your mother farewell, and went to deliver the package.

The walk to the place was quiet, Miles had no clue where you were going. You cleared your throat, eyes still forward.

“What was that back there?”

“What was what?”

You stopped walking and Miles stopped a moment after, turning to look at you.

“That accent, Miles!”

“Huh?”

“My mom literally side eyed you, she was definitely confused as to why you were trying to pull a joke on her…”

“Oh, right.”

“I found it funny though, mainly because I do that to her all the time.”

“Right.”

Miles started walking again, and you followed behind him, grabbing his hand that was just swinging.

“Estás enojado conmigo?”

Miles stopped and looked down at your hands that were intertwined. He had a strange feeling in his stomach, he wasn’t sure if he could pinpoint it. He was trying to get home, to figure out how to even get back there, but he didn’t even know how long it had been. Time was relative and he wasn’t sure if he was too late.

He also didn’t know why he felt attached to you, a sense of comfort while being around you. He secretly hoped, that even at home, you would be there.

“I’m not mad.”

“Good. I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.”

He squeezed your hand, giving you a small smile.

“Nah. You’re good. Don’t worry about it.”

“Hm, okay. But let me know if I do okay?”

“Got it.”

The rest of the walk to the place was filled with you two talking about different things, laughter from the both of you, once again never letting go of the other’s hand.

Miles realized that the area you guys were going to seemed familiar. It was his uncle’s place. His hands started to get sweaty, and he was panicking. He had actively avoided his family, watching from afar.

You, on the other hand, seemed perfectly fine. You hadn’t seen Aaron in a while, and you always wondered if he was doing okay. Miles always seemed on edge when you asked what he and Aaron did, which made you suspicious but you also knew he didn’t have to tell you everything.

You both made it to the hallway, and Miles squeezed your hand once more. You assumed it was an unconscious thing, but Miles did it to reassure himself.

“Why don’t I wait here for you?”

“Come on, I’m just gonna knock on the door and if he’s not there, we’ll leave it on his doorstep.”

He nodded and took a deep breath following you.

You knocked on the door, fully assuming no one would be home. Miles told you beforehand that he was helping Rio, so you just did it to reassure Miles. You weren’t sure if they had fought beforehand, but you didn’t want him to feel uncomfortable.

You knocked once more, hearing a voice on the other end yell for someone else to open the door. You straightened yourself up, plastering a smile on your face. Miles rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb, taking another deep breath.

The door creaked open, and when you made eye contact with the person at the door, your heart fell to the floor. Miles Morales stood in front of you, still wearing his uniform, his smile slowly dropping as he looked at your hand, being intertwined with someone. He looked at the person, eyes growing wide and jaw clenched.

Miles next to you felt his heart stop for a second, unsure what to do. He was staring at himself, who if looks could kill, would have him 6 feet under.

You dropped your hand from Miles’, thoughts going a million miles a minute. The main thought though was:

What the hell is going on?

taglist! @nameless-beanie @carmendanny2 @kukigirli @rayendrop @lovefks @anuncalledbridge @immortal-t @riki-gf @shuriri4life @starboychanyeol @sakura-onesan @the-smut-plug

if your name is in bold i was unable to tag you!

#miles morales x y/n #miles morales x reader #miles morales angst #miles morales #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales prowler #e42 miles morales #miles morales x you #miles morales fluff #across the spider verse spoilers #spider man: across the spider verse #paris writes

4K notes · View notes

mattsturnioloswifey · 20 days

Text

Vacation

Pairing: Matt Sturniolo x Reader.

Summary: You and Matt have known each for as long as you can remember due to your parents being best friends. The only thing is, you hate each other. Now you were going on vacation with the Sturniolos.

____________________________________________

"I'm not sitting by him." I say, annoyed.

"Well I'm not sitting back there." Chris shrugs. "I'm not either." Nick agrees. I clench my jaw, theres no way was I gonna sit by Matt Sturniolo for hours on end.

"Please someone just switch me seats." I beg as Nick and Chris shake their heads. I sigh and sit next to Matt in the very back seat. He doesn't look up from his phone. MaryLou gets in the driver's seat as my mom gets in the passenger's seat.

"Everybody ready?" MaryLou smiles as she begins driving. Nick, Chris, and my mom all nod. I put my airpods in my ears and listen to music. This is gonna be a long ride.

After being in the car for 9 hours, stopping occasionally on the way to go to the gas station and whatnot, we finally made it to a hotel. I live in Boston, as well as the triplets. We are going to Orlando Florida. 19 hours away and we still had 10 more to go. 10 more hours.

"I'm so tired." I say as we all walk into the hotel. "Me too." Chris nods.

We check in to the hotel and go on the elevator to the 3rd floor. Once we get there my mom speaks, "Okay so we are gonna have rooms in pairs. MaryLou with me in room 105, Chris with Nick in room 106, and Matt with y/n in room 107." My face drops.

"No. I am not sharing a room with Matt." I shake my head. Matt glares at me as my mom speaks, "you two need to get over whatever hatred you have for each other. It will be perfect for you to bond. You're sharing a room whether you like it or not." I roll my eyes, "Fine."

Marylou hands everyone their room key and we all go to our rooms. When I open the door my face drops in disbelief. Only one bed. "Where are you gonna sleep?" I ask, turning to face Matt.

"In the bed." He states blankly. "I'm not sharing a bed with you. You can sleep on the floor or something." I say, sitting on the bed.

He sits on the bed next to me, "I'm sleeping in the bed whether you like it or not." I sigh, "Fine but keep some distance." He nods and I head to the bathroom to shower.

After I've showered I wrap the towel around myself, brush my teeth, and do my skincare. I realize I forgot to grab pajamas from my bag in the room so I walk out of the bathroom and get some pajamas from my backpack. I see Matt looking at me before turning away.

I walk back into the bathroom and get dressed. I put my hair in two french braids and walk to the bed, I lay down and Matt rolls his eyes, muttering something underneath his breath. He stands up and stomps into the bathroom. A minute later I hear the shower turn on. I drift off to sleep.

I wake up and try to move but then stop, realizing Matt's body was pressed against mine, his arm around my waist. I hear him breathing softly and feel his heart beating against my back. As much as I hate to admit it, I'm really comfortable right now. No y/n you can't be thinking about Matt this way.

I sit up and his arm wraps tighter around me before I push it away and go into the bathroom to get ready for the day.

"You ready to go yet?" Matt asks, sounding slightly annoyed. "Yeah." I grab my backpack and exit the hotel room, seeing My mom, MaryLou, Chris, and Nick all exiting their rooms.

"How did you guys sleep?" My mom asks softly. "Good." Nick and Chris say in union, Matt and I not saying anything.

My mom tilts her head at Matt and I. "what about you two?" I look at the floor, trying to avoid Matt's gaze. "I slept fine." I lie, knowing I slept the best I have in a long time. Matt nods his head, agreeing with me.

"Well, we better get going!" MaryLou says happily and we all walk to the elevator.

"I have to sit back there again?" "Yes y/n Chris and I already agreed we were all gonna sit in the same spots that we sat in yesterday." Nick says, sitting down in his seat.

I roll my eyes and sit by Matt. This time he looked up at me, stared for a moment, then looked back down at his phone. It's okay y/n, you only have to sit by him for 10 more hours.

"We're here!" Marylou sings loudly. "Finally." I mutter, stepping out of the car. I grab my bags and suitcase from the trunk and walk up to the vacation home we're gonna be staying in.

I walk in, everyone following behind me. "Theres only 3 bedrooms so MaryLou and I discussed what we'll do." My mom says, looking at Marylou. "We are each gonna share a room with the person we shared the hotel rooms with. Nick with Chris, MaryLou with me, and Matt with y/n."

My eyes widen "What?" Matt glares at me. "Y/n you'll be fine. You and Matt need to spend some time together." MaryLou smiles softly.

"Which room is it?" My mom points to a room and I walk in, setting my bag down on the bed. Of course there was only one bed. I didn't even question where Matt was gonna sleep.

I wake up and realize this time Matt wasn't holding me from behind, I was resting my head on his chest, my arms wrapped around his waist, and his hand resting on my hip. I sit up and go to the bathroom to get ready, same thing I do everyday.

"Matt I need your help." I say, unzipping my suitcase that's on the bed next to where Matt's sitting. Matt looks up from his book with an annoyed expression on his face "What do you want?"

I pick up two bikini sets "Black or blue? I don't know which one to wear first." He looks at me for a moment "Blue." I smile at him and he shakes his head, looking back down at his book.

I head to the bathroom and change into my blue bikini set. I put on some shorts and a t-shirt over it. When I go back into the room I see Matt shirtless and notice he put on blue swim trunks.

I look down, grab a beach towel, and walk out of the room. I walk to the car where MaryLou, my mom, Chris, and Nick are all waiting. I sit in the same seat Nick and Chris assigned me. Matt walks out and sits in the car next to me a few moments later. Matt looks at me and then looks away quickly.

"Let's get to the beach!" My mom says happily.

How am I gonna keep my eyes off of Matt. Shirtless Matt.

"CHRIS!!!" I laugh as he pushes me into the water with him. I look over and see Matt glaring at us, I quickly look away.

"You two lovebirds having fun?!" MaryLou shouts at Chris and me from the spot her and my mom are laying at. Chris smirks at me and I hit his chest playfully, but I probably shouldn't have because he picked me up and threw me at Matt who was standing in the water next to us.

Matt wraps his arms around me to catch me and then pushes me back towards Chris. "Chris stop doing stupid shit." Matt says angrily. Chris looks at Matt and sticks his tongue out, acting like a child.

"Chris you're acting 5 right now." Nick laughs as Chris turns to face me, wrapping his arms around my waist "You love it, don't you?" Matt clenches his jaw, clearly not liking what Chris just said to me.

"I do not, Christopher!" I giggle, shaking my head. Matt grabs my wrist and drags me away from Chris. "Let go of me!"

Matt keeps a tight grip on my wrist, dragging me to where my beach towel lays. He grabs it and turns to face me, letting go of my wrist. He wraps it around my body and grabs my wrist again, walking towards the car.

"What are you doing?" I try to get my arm away from him but he grips my wrist tighter. "We're going back to the vacation home." I furrow my eyebrows, "what? No, not yet."

"Yes."

"No."

"Yes, we are."

"No, we aren't."

He stops, letting go of my wrist as he turns to face me. He grabs my shoulders and looks into my eyes with an unreadable expression.

"I need to talk to you, so we are leaving." I furrow my eyebrows out of confusion, "about what?" He sighs, "just come with me." I nod and he grabs my hand, leading me to the car. We sit in the seats we usually do and everyone else comes in the car too.

When we get back to the vacation home Matt grabs my hand and leads me into the room we're staying in, shutting the door behind us. He sits on the bed and I sit next to him.

"What did you wanna talk to me about?" He takes a deep breath before responding, "I don't hate you. I thought I did, but I don't."

"So you wanna be friends with me now?" I question, looking up at him. He shakes his head, "I think I'm falling in love with you." My eyes widen and he continues to speak, "I know you don't-" "I'm actually in love with you, I just acted like I hated you because I thought you hated me."

His eyes widen and he grabs my face, making me look at him, "I love you, y/n."

"I love you, Matt." I smile and he presses his lips against mine.

The end.

____________________________________________

a/n: this is horrible. There might be an epilogue but idk. I put all 3 parts together for this since they were so short and could all be 1 part.

#matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader

687 notes · View notes

asdfghjklmals · 3 months

Text

SEALED & DELIVERED✩༶‧˚

GENRE + T/W: sfw, angst. hurt and NO comfort. WORD COUNT: 4.5k words. TAGS: satoru gojo x fem!oc. established couple. adoptedkiddo! megumi x fem guardian!oc.

SYNOPSIS: after satoru gets sealed in the prison realm, megumi realizes that he has to be the one to tell oc gojo girlfriend the bad news—includes child megumi flashback story. AUTHOR'S NOTE: the awkward moment where this doesn't end with fluff... this fic just focuses on satoru getting sealed and megumi's relationship with oc gojo girlfriend. sorry about the ending. i was starting to word vomit and run out of ideas. there will definitely be a continuation about the 19 days satoru was sealed away though. REMINDER: if you want to imagine yourself in oc gojo girlfriend's character descriptions, please do!

intro

"sweetheart, we need to talk."

you looked up from your pile of paperwork while satoru sat down in the chair in front of you. he planted his elbows on your glass desk and leaned over, a troubled look on his handsome face. you could tell from behind his black blindfold that something was really bothering him.

"what did i do, gojo-sensei? am i in trouble?" you teased.

the white haired sorcerer dramatically clutched at his chest, "you know i love it when you call me that. don't distract me."

"yes, i know babe." you giggled, "what's wrong? what's going on in that big, beautiful head of yours?"

satoru pouted at you, he was going to say 'my head isn't big!' like he always did, but he decided to save that bickering for later.

"with sukuna's vessel showing up... i just don't have a good feeling about all the things going on." satoru explained, "so... i want to create some contingency plans if anything were to happen to me."

you frowned at the statement 'if anything were to happen to me'. you didn't even want to think of a possibility of anything happening to the love of your life.

"—and why would anything to happen to my man?"

satoru leaned back into the leather chair and crossed his legs, ignoring your question. "you have to promise me that you'll tell megumi about his father. the zen'nin clan will make megumi the head if i'm deemed mentally incapacitated or if i die. some deal his dad had with naobito, i guess.”

you shut your eyes and slammed your silver pen on top of the stack of paperwork you were filling out, "fine... i promise, but none of that is going to happ—"

"i'm not finished, sweetheart." satoru interrupted, "i need you to get yuta back to japan as soon as possible."

yuta was currently training in africa with miguel. satoru always mentioned how strong yuta was becoming after each visit and how the next generation of jujutsu sorcerers could rival himself. you and satoru depended on yuta quite a bit nowadays. (read ‘the cursed child: yuta okkotsu’ here)

you glared at your blue eyed lover sitting across from you, "anything else, mr. gojo?"

"can you promise to wait for me to come home if anything happens?" satoru asked with earnesty. it almost sounded like he was begging you.

present time: oc gojo girlfriend’s office

“you’re going to be late if you want to meet everyone at shibuya station on time.” you patted satoru on the chest, pushing him away from you.

“—just one more kiss.” he begged.

satoru was so needy tonight. you thought to yourself, 'what was up with him?'

you kissed him again, but he refused to let go of your body. he held you tightly. you furrowed your eyebrows at him.

“what’s wrong?” you asked, “you have that look on your face.”

“i just have a bad feeling about tonight.” he mumbled to himself. you wished you could read what was going on in that crazy mind of his.

your heart dropped, frowning at his eery statement. “promise me you’ll be careful?”

“i’m always careful.” satoru stated confidently.

now that someone he loved was waiting for him to come home, he always took into consideration his safety so that he could make it back to you unscathed. he knew you would never forgive him if anything happened to him and if he left you alone. he promised to protect you. (read ‘the honored one’ here)

you held out your pinky as satoru intertwined his with yours. instead of kissing his thumb to seal the deal, he leaned over to kiss you again fervently, muffling whatever you were about to say.

you groaned once his lips left yours, whispering breathlessly, “do you really have to go?”

“i’m the strongest… so yeah.” he sighed, “remember, if anything happens to me, you have take care of my students.”

“can you not say stuff like that?” you hit his chest as he continued to hold you. “why are you talking like you aren’t going to be coming back home to me?”

“i’m just saying, babe.” satoru sighed again as he booped you on your nose, “you have to be strong for me.”

but what if you didn’t want to be strong? what if you selfishly didn’t want satoru to go to shibuya? what if something happens to him and he doesn’t come home to you? what if he leaves you all alone?

satoru finally let go of you as you stood in the middle of your office at jujutsu high. you shook your head to steer away your selfish thoughts.

“i love you, satoru,” you called out to him before he turned to leave your office, “remember your promise.”

he gave you his signature grin before sneaking back over to you to give you one last kiss. “i know. i’ll remember. i love you, (y/n). remember your promises too.”

"yuta is on his way home..." you reported, "and i'll tell megumi about his father."

satoru frowned at you, "you're forgetting something else."

"—and yes, i'll wait for you to come home." you stated confidently.

for better or for worse, right? it’s been 10 years that you and satoru have been together. you were pretty sure you were a patient person. you could wait for him forever if that’s what it took.

"that's my girl." satoru smirked at you before leaving your office, clasping his hands to teleport to shibuya.

***************************

october 31st. shibuya. 8:31pm. satoru gojo arrives.

“good night, satoru gojo. let us meet again in the new world.” kenjaku said smugly. he had just sealed the world’s strongest sorcerer, adamant that nothing would get in his way now.

satoru scoffed at the ridiculous sight in front of him, “yeah, maybe it’s good night for me, but you need to wake up, suguru. how are you gonna let yourself get used like that?”

kenjaku felt resistance in the body that he took over. hands that belonged to the body of suguru geto attempted to grab his throat.

he laughed in amusement, “well, this is the first time that has happened.”

he suppressed that very resistance with his cursed energy again.

satoru watched and reluctantly listened as kenjaku and mahito had a conversation discussing souls and techniques. he was getting impatient.

“can you just get this over with?” satoru grumbled, “you two aren’t the most pleasing things to look at. i definitely didn't want you two being the last thing i see before getting taken by my own will.”

kenjaku laughed at the sorcerer who was on his knees, arms shackled behind his back, unable to do anything to free himself from the hold of the prison realm. he looked so weak.

“i think i’m enjoying this view, but you’re right. i can’t risk anything happening, so goodnight.” he took one last look at satoru and smirked.

“close gate.”

“we can’t use the prison realm anymore right?” mahito asked curiously.

kenjaku nodded his head, “right. unless the person who's trapped takes their own life inside the prison realm, we can only use it on one occupant at a time.”

inside the prison realm, satoru kissed his the back of his teeth, annoyed but somewhat impressed by this cursed object. “looks like time doesn’t pass here.”

he sat on top of a pile of skeleton heads, repeatedly flicking his blindfold off of his forehead, “damn it. i really messed up this time… (y/n)’s gonna kill me after i promised her i’d be careful.” satoru muttered with a grim smile.

“it’ll be okay. i have faith in everyone...”

***************************

“satoru gojo has been sealed.” nanami announced grimly.

megumi looked at the 7:3 sorcerer in disbelief. “sealed? what do you mean sealed?”

“change of plans,” nanami said as he started walking towards shibuya station, “we need to meet up with itadori. if the sealing is true, it’s over for us. we don’t stand a chance without gojo.”

megumi felt as if his world was spiraling. how could his all-knowing, crazy strong sensei get sealed? did (y/n)-sensei know about gojo-sensei’s sealing? no, (y/n)-sensei couldn’t have known. (y/n)-sensei was probably with shoko at the relief area since you two could heal injured sorcerers.

megumi knew that the school didn’t like to use you offensively because of the damage you could inflict on the city with your cursed technique. no one wanted to fill out that damages report. instead, you were their trump card, their last resort. gojo-sensei was usually the go-to special grade sorcerer if the school ever needed something to be taken care of swiftly.

“i have to tell (y/n)-sensei.” megumi mumbled out loud.

nanami pursed his lips, “if you tell her, there’s no telling what she’ll do. if she finds out that gojo was sealed, she might flood all of shibuya.”

“but she deserves to know.”

megumi took out his cell phone. his fingers were trembling as he sifted through his contacts to find your name. his heart was racing at the thought of having to tell you bad news. he hated disappointing you and he definitely didn't want to worry you. but if it had anything to do with gojo-sensei, you had to know.

this moment reminded him of the time he called you from the principal’s office when he got in trouble for fighting at school.

flashback

'i am so grounded,' 7 year old megumi fushiguro thought to himself, '(y/n) is going to take away my new books for sure. maybe i should call gojo-sensei instead.'

you were the maternal figure in megumi’s life since you and gojo-sensei had taken him and tsumiki in. gojo-sensei let you make all the important decisions regarding the kids. you were the one that always had to have the disciplinary conversations with the two fushiguros. gojo-sensei didn’t like to play the bad guy, he was the type to sneak treats to him and tsumiki after you scolded them.

“well, megumi. are you going to call (y/n) or satoru?” the vice principal of the school, mrs. akita asked him.

megumi sighed, “i guess i’ll call (y/n)…”

he knew that if he called gojo-sensei, the blindfolded idiot would just tell you what happened anyways and he would still end up having to tell you what he did himself. so he might as well spare himself the hard conversation later.

he grabbed the phone from mrs. akita’s desk and took a deep breath before dialing your phone number. his heart was racing. he knew he was going to disappoint you, and he hated that feeling.

you picked up the phone, your bright laughter gave megumi the shivers, “hello?”

“uh—(y/n)?”

your tone immediately became serious, “megumi, are you okay?”

"uh, yeah. i'm okay. i got in trouble at school today." he admitted. he closed his eyes, waiting for you to start lecturing him.

he could hear that you were walking with someone. you were probably on a mission.

"what?! megumi... what happened?" you asked, concern in your tone.

"i, uh, got in a fight. mrs. akita said that i'm getting suspended for two days." he made eye contact with the vice principal in front of him as she sat with her arms folded. this was not megumi's first rodeo.

"megumi... we had this conversation about fighting at school..." you sighed.

yes, you were disappointed, but megumi was your baby. how could you stay mad at the cute little 7 year old boy with the same green eyes as you?

"i know, i'm sorry, (y/n)."

"i'm sorry, megumi. i can't come pick you up today because i'm on a mission. satoru will be there soon, okay?" you felt guilty. you knew the last person he wanted to see was satoru after getting suspended. satoru would never let him live it down.

"okay. i'll wait for gojo-sens—wait, can you send nanami to pick me up instead?"

you laughed at his question, "nanami is actually on a mission with me right now.. sorry kiddo. i'll see you at home later, okay?"

megumi grumbled, "okay..."

megumi hung up the phone and turned around to sit back in the office chair. mrs. akita was filling out the paperwork on his suspension.

***************************

once you hung up the phone, you sighed and turned to nanami. "sorry, nanami. megumi got in trouble at school today."

the 7:3 sorcerer stopped walking and turned to you, your troubled face concerned him, "do you need to call gojo?"

"yeah, he needs to pick up megumi from school. he got suspended for fighting." you groaned.

"being a mother must be hard." nanami teased as he patted your back in reassurance.

you laughed, "having a boy is hard. tsumiki is an angel. god forbid my future children have megumi's temperament."

"you better hope your future child isn't satoru's mini-me." nanami teased.

you grinned at him and joked lightly, "who says i'm having more kids with satoru? he already gave me two to take care of."

you and nanami knew that satoru would pout all day if he heard that joke. you giggled before dialing satoru's phone number as you both took a quick break on a park bench.

"hey babe, you okay? do i need to come help?" satoru asked as he picked up your phone call on the first ring. he never let you go to voicemail in your 2 years of dating.

"no, satoru. we're fine. but i need you to pick megumi up from school. he got suspended today."

"you don't say?" satoru laughed out loud in amusement, "alright, i'll go grab the kiddo."

"i'll be home later. and don't you dare reward him with something sweet on the way home."

satoru was appalled that you would even think he was going to pick up megumi and grab ice cream on the way back. however, you already knew he was thinking about it.

"so feisty." satoru chuckled, "we'll see you at home later then, sweetheart."

***************************

satoru teleported into the front office of the elementary school. mrs. akita opened the door to her office and brought the white haired sorcerer into the room while megumi waited outside. satoru sat down on the leather seat as mrs. akita sighed.

"satoru, megumi has been getting into a lot of fights lately. is everything okay at home?"

"(y/n) and i have been talking to him about not fighting at school..." satoru started, "but he always has a good reason for fighting, so we couldn't exactly reprimand him. what happened today anyways?"

"megumi got in a scuffle with a group of bullies. there are a couple troublemaker cliques in his grade and he beat up three of them." mrs. akita reported back to him, rubbing her temples. "they have extensive injuries, satoru."

satoru started laughing, impressed that megumi took on three school bullies by himself.

"—satoru, this is serious. their parents want him expelled."

"did megumi win?" satoru asked curiously, ignoring mrs. akita's last statement.

mrs. akita glared at him in annoyance, "clearly he won if the parents are wanting him expelled, satoru."

"then that's all that matters to me. that's my kid we're talking about here. end of discussion, akita." satoru said, standing up from his chair and waving off the conversation. “megumi will take the two-day suspension and we'll pay the fines. tell the other kids' parents we're sorry, yada yada yada.”

mrs. akita rolled her eyes, "you're lucky principal kinomoto and i love you and (y/n). no other school would put up with this behavior, satoru."

satoru winked at the vice principal and opened the door to look at megumi. he had a couple of scratches on his face, a bandaid on his cheek and left knee. megumi looked like he was going to burst into tears with the way he was frowning as pouting.

"alrighty, kiddo. let's head back to jujutsu high."

satoru gave megumi a piggy back ride while the child shoved his sniffling face into the back of satoru's uniform. satoru teleported back to jujutsu high as they walked through the school corridors together. he knew that he would have to have a conversation with megumi before you got back from your mission.

"you know you're going to have to tell (y/n) what happened, right?"

megumi glared at his guardian, "i don't want to." and in a matter of seconds, megumi started to burst into tears.

"you cryin', megumi? didn't you win the fight?" satoru asked.

megumi wiped his tears with his forearm, hiccuping, "y-yes."

"then why are you cryin'?"

"i'm scared to see (y/n)." he sheepishly admitted.

satoru started laughing. megumi could feel his laugh vibrating through his back as satoru carried him. he clutched his arms tighter around satoru's shoulders.

the sorcerer grinned, "you and me both, kiddo."

"...is she going to be mad at me? what if she doesn’t love me anymore?" megumi asked satoru full of worry. he knew that satoru knew you better than anyone else in this world.

satoru thought out loud, "hmmm, she'll probably be a little disappointed. but—she’ll always love you and she cares for you a ton. at the end of the day, you’re her baby."

megumi's eyes continued to water as his grip on satoru's uniform tightened. the closer they got to the dining hall, the more nervous the child got.

"looks like you're in luck, kiddo. (y/n) isn't back from her mission yet." satoru sighed in relief, "let's go see shoko and get you all healed up."

***************************

"oh my..." shoko gasped, "what happened to you, megumi?!"

megumi looked at satoru and then back at the ground. he was too embarrassed to tell shoko what had happened at school.

"he just got in a little tussle at school." satoru told his bestfriend, waving it off.

shoko started laughing, "sounds like you when you were younger, gojo."

"yeah, but i wouldn't have gotten beat up." satoru grinned at the doctor, "i was untouchable."

the brunette rolled her eyes at him, "you're so full of yourself."

satoru scoffed and put megumi down on the exam table. "can you just make sure he's okay before my girlfriend sees his scratches and yells at me?"

shoko nodded. she healed up megumi's minor cuts and bruises so that it looked like nothing ever happened.

***************************

you and nanami were walking through the school's courtyard after your mission today. the mission ended up running later than usual.

"sorry that mission took so long," nanami mumbled. “i know you were worried about megumi.”

"it's okay, nanami. satoru’s with him." you high-fived him, "good job tonight."

as you continued the walk through the courtyard, you saw satoru leaning against the entrance to the school building with his arms folded. he cleared his throat.

"your jealously is showing, satoru." you grinned at your boyfriend.

"me?" satoru called out to you, baffled, pointing at nanami, "jealous of him?"

satoru laughed as nanami rolled his eyes at him. "megumi has been waiting for you, babe."

"what?" you asked in disbelief, "it's past his bedtime. it's almost 10pm. satoru, you're supposed to make sure the kids go to bed on time."

"he wouldn't go back to the apartment, he won't go to sleep without talking to you." satoru grinned thinking about megumi’s tenacity.

satoru walked with you back to the dining hall, holding your bag in one hand and your hand in the other.

"i'll wait in the hallway. go talk to megumi." satoru said as he blew you kiss. you caught his air kiss and threw it on the floor, making him laugh out loud. your feisty personality was one of his favorite things about you.

you entered the dining hall. megumi looked up at you with sad eyes. you sat down in front of the child.

"hey, megumi." you greetled him softly, he was quiet and a little awkward. it looked like you were going to have to break the ice. you started the conversation with the 7 year old, "so, wanna tell me what happened at school today?"

"the kids i beat up were talking about you and gojo-sensei." megumi muttered. he folded his arms, angry at the thought of those bullies and what they had said about the two guardians he cared so much about.

"well... what were they saying about us that made you so upset you had to go and beat them up?"

megumi quietly told you what happened, "they kept saying that you and gojo-sensei weren't mine and tsumiki's real parents and that we don’t look like you two. it made tsumiki cry."

your heart shattered. kids were so mean nowadays. you admit that megumi and tsumiki's situation was unique, yes, but the fact that kids bullied each other about their parents was cruel. you never wanted the kids to feel bad about their situation.

you scoffed, "how can i be mad at the fact that you were defending mine and satoru’s honor?" you ruffled megumi's hair, "why were you so scared to tell me that?"

"because i keep getting in trouble for fighting." megumi frowned, disappointed in himself.

"megumi, i want you to be able to tell me anything. i don't want you to keep things bottled up."

"—but what if you don't love me anymore after i tell you the bad things?" megumi asked quietly.

you were shocked that a 7 year old could have such thoughts. how could he think that you wouldn’t love him anymore? megumi and tsumiki were the center of your world since satoru swiped them off the streets and brought them home to you. (read 'learn to love' here)

you asked megumi a question, "how many times a day do i tell you and tsumiki that i love you two?"

"you tell us every morning before we go to school and before we go to bed. and sometimes randomly throughout the day." megumi smiled at the mental reminder.

"—just because you get into fights at school doesn't mean that i'll love you any less. if anything, i worry about you getting hurt." you lectured him, "now, if you grow up to be a horrible curse user, we might have a problem."

"does that mean you're not mad at me?" megumi asked quietly.

"i am a little disappointed," you sighed, "—but i don't love you any less."

you reached out to him for a hug. the boy jumped into your arms. you squeezed him tightly, rocking him back and forth. "now tell me... did satoru buy you ice cream after school?"

megumi froze, his eyes widened. him and gojo-sensei were caught red-handed.

"uh huh... got it." you laughed. you were going to have a word with satoru later tonight.

end flashback

the dial tone was echoing through megumi's ears as he waited for you to pick up. he felt a lump in his throat, his heart was racing, just like back then when he was 7 years old, but this took the cake for the hardest conversation he's ever had to have with you. he would rather tell you that he broke the glass coffee table in the living room trying to summon max elephant a hundred times over again.

"megumi, are you okay?" you answered, "do you need me to—"

"i'm fine, (y/n). it's gojo-sensei."

your felt sick to your stomach. it was in that moment that you knew something had happened to satoru.

"what happened to him?"

"he was sealed." megumi said grimly.

you furrowed your eyebrows, not understanding what megumi was saying, "what do you mean sealed?"

"i—i don't know all the specifics." megumi stuttered through the receiver, "—but i'm going to find out. i'll save gojo-sensei, (y/n). i promise you. so don’t worry and… don’t be mad at him."

"megumi, wait..." you said, voice barely coming out as a whisper. you heard the younger sorcerer disconnect from the other line.

you felt a lump in your throat as you fought back tears. you had to be strong for the students... and for satoru. you felt this immense pain and anger in your chest. if satoru was sealed, that meant he was still alive. there was a sliver of hope that you would see him again. satoru had to be okay... right?

"(y/n)!" shoko yelled out your name, "you're going to flood all my medical supplies!"

you snapped out of your thoughts and looked around the area. water was starting to flood the ground, surrounding the both of your feet.

"what did megumi say to upset you that much?!" shoko asked, "i haven't seen you do that since high school!"

"satoru was sealed, shoko. and i don't know what that means!" you yelled in frustration, throwing your ice shards against the concrete wall.

the street lamps started to flicker as ice started to form around the streets, fire hydrants started to explode due to high water pressure, water started to fill the streets of shibuya. your cursed energy was starting to become uncontrollable.

you wondered how megumi was feeling at this moment and how horrible he must have felt telling you that satoru was sealed. it couldn't have been easy for him, nor could it be easy for the rest of the jujutsu sorcerers and satoru’s students knowing that the strongest was sealed away. the team morale was probably destroyed.

shoko distracted you out of your thoughts again, "you should go to shibuya. the students need you. you're second in command if anything happens to gojo."

you looked at shoko with determination in your eyes, she nodded at you as you made your way out the door to head straight for shibuya station.

the students needed you right now more than ever since satoru was gone. they needed the support from you, the support that you always gave to them no matter what the situation was. you were their go-to person for comfort. whether they got a bad grade on their mission, if they lost a spar, or when they needed an ear to listen to them, you were there.

you thought back to the conversation that you and satoru had. promise number one would have to wait. promise number two was on a flight back to japan and would be landing in a couple hours. promise number three...

'don't worry, satoru.' you thought to yourself, 'i'll wait for you to come home. i don't care how long it takes. we'll find a way to get you back.'

little did you know, the nineteen days that satoru gojo was sealed away was the most excruciating pain you've ever experienced in your life, not even an injury from a curse could compare.

it was as if something was missing from your life and you never wanted to experience the pain of losing someone so important to you ever again.

DIVIDERS PROVIDED BY @/ANLIAN-AISHANG

850 notes · View notes

megalony · 17 days

Text

Matters Of The Heart

This is an Evan Buckley imagine I've been trying to write for a while now. I hope you will all like it, let me know what you think.

I'm planning follow up parts for this imagine.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyjen @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @stefansalvatoresgf @kyky9103 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra8484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @shelbygeek @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan keep their relationship private, but they're happy. But when (Y/n) falls pregnant, she doesn't know what to do; she's suffered miscarriages before and worries this will end up the same way.

Enjoy.

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

Evan let himself slump down until his weight was resting on his knees and his forearms that were dented into the mattress either side of (Y/n)'s shoulders. The uneven distribution made him feel like he was at the gym trying to do the plank position, but he couldn't drop his weight down when (Y/n) was laid beneath him. He would crush her.

He could feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck towards his shoulder blades and he knew his skin was starting to turn blotched red and flushed. The heat was radiating off him as his chest heaved up and down, pressing deeply into (Y/n)'s chest every time he inhaled.

A dazed smile spread across (Y/n)'s lips while she moved her hand higher up the back of his neck and slowly tangled her fingers in the short curls at the back of his head. She could feel his head burying into the side of her neck causing his hair to tickle her cheek and make her squirm beneath him.

He was kissing the hickeys he had just bitten deeply up and down her neck a few minutes ago.

His hips were crushing down on hers, their groins mashed together while (Y/n) tensed her thighs to squeeze Evan's legs that were resting between hers. His broad frame squished between her legs and caused her hips to bend outwards to accomodate him.

"You're gonna make me late, I should have been up ten minutes ago," (Y/n) whispered and her smile turned into a grin when Evan laughed into her neck. She loved the sound of his laugh. She didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay right here with Evan laid on top of her, pinning her down for the whole day. Preventing her from leaving with his intoxicating kisses that he was now peppering along her jaw.

If it was her choice, they would stay here in bed all day with no interruptions to get in the way.

But they both knew (Y/n) didn't want to be late for work, she was never late to the station. And she didn't want anyone wondering or asking why she was late. No one at the station knew about her and Evan.

"Hmm, I want you to stay here with me." Evan kissed along her jaw until he was hovering over her enough to reach up and peck her lips, gently at first. Then again and again until he was pushing her down into the pillow, devouring her lips like they were the air he needed to breathe.

"I have to get up," (Y/n) groaned against his lips when he rutted his hips down into hers and took her lower lip between his teeth. Her hands moved round from his neck to cup his face and her thumbs brushed across his sharp cheekbones. She pressed a quick, simple kiss to his lips before she attempted to push up against him but it didn't work.

Evan tensed his bare chest and leaned down, effortlessly pushing her back down beneath him where he wanted her.

"Can't you spare another ten minutes for me? I'll make it worth your while."

He let his weight lean on his left forearm so his right hand could slither down (Y/n)'s side and grip the underside of her thigh. Surely she could spend another few minutes in bed with him before she had to get ready and head to work. For once, he didn't have to get up and he was wide awake when normally he was sleeping until noon after a long shift.

"I've already given you ten minutes, Buckley, I can't spare any more." Coiling her leg higher, (Y/n) smacked her foot down on his backside and curled her arms tighter around his neck, doing her best to try and push him back so she could sit up.

It worked this time, but not like she hoped. Evan kept a tight hold of her thigh and he leaned up so he could sink back on his heels. He pulled (Y/n) up with him and curved his arm around her lower back, sitting her on his lap.

(Y/n) tilted her head to the side before she leaned closer and attached her lips to his sharp jaw. She sucked and bit down until she could feel him practically shaking against her, growling her name through gritted teeth while his hand slithered up from her thigh to cup her bum.

Evan was breathless and on the verge of stuttering when he felt her kiss and nip down his throat, something she knew made him putty in her hands.

"Let me get to work on time, and I might just come back to see you after my shift. How about that?"

Bargaining was the only thing (Y/n) thought would work to get Evan to let her get up. He had the whole day and tonight off after all and (Y/n) was only doing a day shift, she would be leaving the station tonight. She was more than willing to come by his flat and see him later on tonight if he let her get to work on time this morning.

(Y/n) squeaked when she felt his short nails puncturing into her bum and his other hand moved to cup the back of her neck. He tilted her head up so she could no longer kiss his throat and hovered his lips half an inch away from hers. There was something devilish and daring in his eyes, it made her unsure whether he was going to agree or throw her down on the bed for round three.

"Evan," She whispered against his lips, moving her hand to cup his jaw when he didn't set her down.

His lips barely touched hers before (Y/n) unhooked her legs from his hips and managed to shuffle off his thighs and flop back onto the bed. She leaned up on her hands, a tender, if cheeky smile on her face when she brought her knees up either side of his thighs.

"Where do you think you're going?"

Shivers bolted up and down (Y/n)'s spine and a pleasurable thrill like ecstasy thundered through her blood when Evan's low voice hit her ears. Within seconds, his large hands dug into the bare flesh of her thighs and with a sharp tug, Evan yanked her across the bed. When she fell on her back, he thought she looked like an angel with her hair fanned across the mattress like a golden halo and her smooth, bare skin exposed for him to take in and possess.

"To work." (Y/n) responded against the side of his neck and as quickly as she could, she unhooked her legs from his hands and flung them over the side of the bed.

The moment (Y/n) was up on her feet, she felt like the apartment had tilted at an angle and her body stumbled to the right, following her skewed sense of balance.

Her hand reached out for the bedside table and when her head filled with air, she crashed down to her knees on the carpet which thankfully softened the blow. She almost smiled when her vision started to sway from left to right like she was on a choppy boat in the middle of the sea. But after a few seconds, she felt herself levelling back out and the air dwindled from her head like a balloon slowly being let down.

"Hey, wow, you okay?" Evan hopped off the bed and latched his hand around (Y/n)'s elbow and wormed his arm around her bare waist to cup her hip. He pressed his lips to the back of her head and gently pulled her up to her feet when she nodded.

He watched the way (Y/n) tilted her head back into his chest and grinned up at him.

"Just went dizzy, I'm good." (Y/n) gave his hand a squeeze and pressed a kiss to his shoulder before she looked around the bedroom for her clothes. She could see them scattered around the floor in odd places, her bra here, her shirt over near the stairs. The mess of clothes showed the fun they'd got up to last night.

"You sure?"

"Hm."

"And you'll come back tonight?" His hands found her hips and he turned her around so she was facing him. Her head tilted back to look up at him while his hands wormed around to fan out on her lower back.

"Yeah, I'll come over after shift."

***

(Y/n) slipped her phone in her back pocket and pushed herself off the side of the ambulance she was leaning against. Her teeth sank down in her bottom lip and she smiled in Eddie's direction when he waved her over.

Bobby was cooking; it was time for lunch.

She walked over to him and walked beside him as they headed up the stairs and turned to the left towards the kitchen. She knew he was keeping a slow pace to walk at her speed which wasn't very fast today, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you want a drink?"

"Sure. You okay?"

"I'm fine," She smiled in his direction and headed over to the fridge while Eddie took his seat at the table.

They were short staffed today, Evan was on his day off and Chimney was on annual leave. So were two other probies which meant they were all doubling up on calls and they had barely been in the station all morning.

(Y/n) had stayed on from the night shift to cover today and help the team out. She knew what it was like to work here when the numbers were down.

She tried to take deep breaths to get rid of the fog rolling in behind her eyes. But her breath got caught in her throat when she grabbed a glass from the cabinet and realised her hands were shaking.

Shift patterns, hundreds of call outs and odd schedules messed with all their meal times and their food habits. (Y/n) hadn't eaten anything on shift last night and she had skipped breakfast this morning. She hadn't been feeling well these past two weeks and work wasn't exactly helping. Last night and this morning had been hectic too and had snatched most of (Y/n)'s energy.

She was hungry but the smell and the thought of food made her uneasy and her head was pounding like she was being hit with a hammer.

Her lips pressed into a thin line as she poured two glasses of juice and dug her nails into each glass so harshly her fingers began to throb and ache. She couldn't risk dropping the glasses.

It was a relief when she shuffled over to the table and was able to put a glass down in front of herself and Eddie. She let herself flop down into her seat and took a second to tilt her head back and close her eyes, relishing in the way her muscles stopped aching and weighed down when she sat and relaxed.

"Are you alright?"

A shiver bolted down (Y/n)'s spine and her eyes snapped open when she felt Eddie's lean close enough that his chest bumped her shoulder.

Being close to Eddie always felt strange nowadays.

At first, she thought it would be hard to work with someone she used to have a relationship with- if what she and Eddie had could be classed as a relationship. Hook ups after hard shifts, drowning their sorrows together in the nearest bar, trying to rely on each other when things got hard.

It hadn't been a proper relationship, no rules, no boundaries or labels and they didn't exactly go on dates.

(Y/n) thought they had something, until Shannon died. Eddie stepped away from her after that. Neither of them said anything but it was crystal clear, Eddie was spiralling and lost after Shannon died so things between them settled back to a strange, close friendship.

"I'm good." (Y/n) quickly nodded her head despite the pain it caused to bolt down the back of her neck and how her eyes rolled and lost focus from the slight movement.

She managed a smile when Hen held a plate of pasta out to her since she was the one dishing up the food today.

The steam coming from her plate made her nose crinkle and her head started to swim from the heat. She already felt like she was trapped in an oven, she had switched to her thin cotton shirt earlier with no sleeves to try and let her body breathe and cool down.

Two bites of pasta had (Y/n) pressing the back of her hand against her mouth as she willed herself not to throw up at the dinner table. Her head tilted down and she took a few deep breaths, trying to keep her food down as she set down her fork and grabbed her glass instead. Maybe skipping lunch would be a good idea today.

She tried another mouthful before she placed her fork down and switched to down her drink instead.

Her eyes lifted from her plate to look across the table and she locked eyes with Hen. She narrowed her eyes behind her glasses and tilted her head down, silently checking if everything was okay. Hen knew (Y/n) wasn't one to turn down one of Bobby's dishes, especially after being on a long shift and having as many call outs as they did last night and into today.

Hen could see she wasn't paying attention to the conversation floating around the table and frankly, neither was she anymore.

"I'll clean up…" (Y/n) collected all the plates when everyone was finished and made her way over to the sink. She would rather keep herself busy than risk sitting down and fretting she wouldn't have the energy to get back up again.

Her head was splitting like someone was banging a drum so harshly that her head was ripping open at the seams. The thudding of her heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin and pounded through her head so badly that she couldn't even hear anything else anymore. All she could make out were snippets of words threaded together in the wrong order.

At least with doing the washing up, (Y/n) could dunk her hands in the sink and pretend they weren't trembling. And it stopped anyone else from noticing either.

Once she was finished, (Y/n) raked her hands up and down her thighs and tried to hold her head up as she walked around the kitchen island.

Her head snapped to the right when a familiar hand curled around her wrist and stopped her from walking away. She dug her left hand into her back pocket and stared up at Eddie while her teeth punctured down into her bottom lip.

He was leaning back against the dining table that was now empty, one leg crossed over the other and his right arm around his chest. She could feel his fingers feathering along her wrist and his thumb traced circles along the back of her hand.

"You sure you're alright? You can tell me, you know." His words made her lips soften and she dragged her eyes up to meet his gaze. She didn't like to see him worry about her. She didn't like any of the team worrying about her.

"I'm just tired, don't worry 'bout me."

"I can't help it." His response surprised her. Was that something a friend said to another friend? Was that just a gesture of how close they were, or was it an indication of something more? Something they used to have?

He couldn't be implying anything by that. Not now. Not anymore.

It had been a hard, dampening experience to shrink back to friends with Eddie after having a glimpse of something more with him. Whatever they had was behind them and (Y/n) was looking ahead now.

At least what she had with Evan was different. He wanted to be with her, and not just to drown his sorrows or for her to warm his bed. She enjoyed spending time with Evan, she loved being around him and his bubbly nature. The only reason they hadn't told anyone was because they worked together and (Y/n) didn't want them to say anything if they knew she had gone out with Eddie and was now dating Evan.

"I'm fine," She reitterated quietly and gave Eddie's arm a squeeze before she walked past him and headed over to the stairs.

Her boots clamoured against the metal steps as she made her way down and trailed across towards the locker room, dragging her feet behind her. Maybe she needed to ask Bobby if she could leave soon. This was an extra shift after all, and if she was feeling this run down and sluggish, she wasn't going to be much help to the team this afternoon.

Her thoughts seemed to be spoken outloud when Bobby walked out of his office and moved in (Y/n)'s direction.

"Two extras are coming on the B shift, you can head home now if you like. Thanks for stepping in today."

"Oh, okay, thanks Cap."

A rest would do her some good, she could recover for the next two days and be back ready for her twenty-four hour block shift. (Y/n) had a gut feeling that doing a shift that long was going to kill her off, but she had agreed to it now and she couldn't go back on her word or let the team down.

When she got to her locker, (Y/n) leaned forward and slumped her head against the next door while she rummaged around and stuffed her phone and keys back into her bag. She slung her bag on her shoulder and turned round, slumping her shoulders back against her locker when she watched Hen walk into the room.

"You heading home?" Hen moved towards her own locker on the far right and rummaged around for a towel and a fresh set of work clothes.

"Yeah, I'm done for the week."

"Nice, got any plans? We still need to go out and get that drink, you know." The last time the pair had arranged to meet up for drinks, both of them got called into the station at last minute. And they had yet to rearrange and go out on a drinks night together.

"I'm free this Saturday, if you-" (Y/n) cut herself off, gasping as she caught her ankle on the corner of the bench.

Her bag flew off her shoulder and her hands planted down on the polished floor with a thud that made her elbows jerk. Her knees took most of her weight when she crashed into the floor and she bit down a cry at the shock it sent through her kneecaps.

"Oh God," Hen mumbled, trying not to laugh as she dropped her towel on the bench and reached out for (Y/n)'s arms. "You know you're…"

Tilting her head up, (Y/n) looked back at Hen to see why she had suddenly stopped talking. She reached her hand out on the bench to prop herself up and take a steady breath, but when (Y/n) looked down in front of her to see what Hen was staring at, her blood ran cold.

Reaching forward, she scraped her hands along the floor and tossed everything back into her bag that had spilled out.

Including the unused pregnancy test.

Her eyes stayed focused on her hands as she shakily stood up and moved to sit down on the bench. Walking out the station and leaving this conversation behind wasn't going to be an option. Hen would either follow her out or ring her until she answered and explained.

She scrunched her trousers up between her fingers that were ice cold but somehow her palms were beginning to sweat. Her knees began to jitter up and down and she couldn't bring herself to look to the left when she felt Hen take a seat next to her on the bench.

"Are you okay?" Her question was careful, considerate, and laced with understanding and a deeper meaning than a simple passing phrase.

"It's not a big deal, besides I haven't taken it yet." (Y/n) began to tap her feet against the floor, but when she looked over at Hen, she felt her stomach do an awful twist. She didn't like the stern look she found in Hen's eyes or the way she rolled her lips together and tilted her chin down in that manner that made (Y/n) feel like she was trying to tell a lie to her parents.

"No big deal? This is huge (Y/n), you can be honest with me."

"No it's not. I highly doubt I am I just… I wanna make sure. And if by some strange twist it comes back positive, in a few weeks this will all be a dream. I can't have kids, Hen."

A twinge pulled at (Y/n)'s heart as if it had suddenly impaled itself on her ribs in defiance to her words.

"You don't know that-"

"Yes I do, or have you forgotten what happened last time? Pretend you didn't see anything, please? We both know how this will end and I'm fine, I swear I'm good and if I wasn't I'd talk to you about it. I just wanna do the test and move on."

She hated the way Hen rubbed her temple as if this conversation was giving her a horrid headache. It was doing much worse to (Y/n), she didn't want to talk about this to anyone, not even with Hen who she thought of as her closest friend.

(Y/n) couldn't have kids. Her body worked against her on just about everything; (Y/n) was always catching colds and getting sick. If she got a bruise it would last weeks, if she fell over she sprained something and got aching muscles for weeks. And when she got pregnant, her body miscarried every time.

And she had come to terms with it. (Y/n) was past the point of caring; she threw herself into her work and did her job to the best of her ability. She worked with friends who had become her family, they were her life and (Y/n) was okay with the knowledge that she wasn't going to have kids to rely on her. She wasn't at risk of leaving people behind if something happened to her on the job, she had no dependants.

(Y/n) knew that if the test was negative, she would sigh in relief and think of this as some strange dream. And if it was positive, she would just wait for her body to do the inevitable. She had been pregnant three times before and never got past fifteen weeks. (Y/n) knew the drill, she knew what her body would do and how it would work against her and she was prepared.

"Please don't do this alone, let me be with you when you take the test. If it's positive I'll go to the doctor with you."

The last thing Hen wanted was for (Y/n) to go through this on her own. Whether the result was yes or no, it was still nerve-wrecking and Hen would rather sit with (Y/n) and be by her side than have her doing this alone.

"No, I'm grateful, truly I am but I can do this by myself."

"Have you told Eddie?"

Panic struck a cord right through (Y/n)'s heart and twinged all the way down to her stomach.

Her arms bound around her chest and she looked down at her boots for a moment, trying to think up a response. No one knew about her and Evan. She didn't want anyone to look at her differently. Not many people at the station knew she had had a 'thing' with Eddie, whatever their relationship could be classed as.

But Hen was the only person (Y/n) talked to about it because they were close, and Hen had been with (Y/n) when she had her last miscarriage. She promised not to tell Eddie or anyone else about it and that was the way (Y/n) wanted it to stay.

And whether or not she was pregnant, it was nothing to do with Eddie. (Y/n) didn't want him to know, and she certainly didn't want Evan to find out either. What she had Evan had together was good, it was new and fresh and different and (Y/n) was having a hard enough time as it was trying to be with Evan and not tell herself that she needed to break up with him for his sake.

He was the type of person who would be an amazing father and (Y/n) knew in the future Evan would want kids. He couldn't be with (Y/n) if that was what he wanted. Telling him now would save them both a lot of heartbreak, but she wanted to be selfish and be with Evan and wait to see how things turned out.

"No, and you cannot tell him or anyone else. Hen I mean it, don't-"

"I wouldn't do that." Her solemn response calmed down one of (Y/n)'s many nerves and she nodded, trying to take a deep breath to calm herself down. "Just promise me you'll come to me if you need anything, okay?"

"I promise."

With her bag on her shoulder and the test burning a hole right through to her heart, (Y/n) walked out the station on trembling legs. That result needed to be a negative; it had to be.

***

(Y/n) curled her left arm around the rim of the toilet and slumped her cheek onto her arm, letting her tears soak down her face and onto her burning skin. She tried to close her eyes to see if it would make her feel any better, but she couldn't shut off her mind or relax.

Her right hand dragged across the floor and her numb fingers hooked around the handle of her bag. She shuffled the bag closer until it bumped into her bare knees and she found the pack of tictacs she had in there. She popped a few in her mouth to try and make herself feel better. (Y/n) had only suffered morning sickness in one of her very short pregnancies, and it was something she didn't want to experience right now. Not at four o'clock in the morning when she and Evan had to be up at seven for work.

She dumped the apck of tictacs back in her bag but a jolt surged up her arm when her fingers brushed across the test she took this morning. She had put it off long enough and this morning she took the plunge and took the test. She wished she hadn't.

Hen was at work and (Y/n) didn't want to bother her while she was on shift and risk panicking her.

Her eyes flickered over the plus sign in the little square box.

What was she going to do? What if she lost this baby while she was on shift, in front of everyone- in front of Evan? What if it happened when she was out or home with Evan? Or if she was alone and it went wrong and she couldn't call for help?

Couldn't this just go quickly and smoothly like the first one? A little blood, some pain and minor discomfort for a few days, then back to normal as if nothing had happened.

Tears traced down the bridge of her nose and fell harder when she thought about the last time. With Eddie. A low moan choked at the back of her throat and she turned her head, smothering her face in her arm as she dropped the test back in her bag and curled tighter around the toilet basin.

It had been pure luck that Hen was with (Y/n) when it happened last time. They had been on their way home from shift together, about to go for some lunch when (Y/n) collapsed with a fever and horrible stomach cramps. Hen drove her to hospital and stayed with her while she got assessed, diagnosed with an ectopic pregnancy and subsequently went for surgery.

An ectopic pregnancy happened when the egg started to grow outside the womb, and in (Y/n)'s case it grew in one of her fallopian tubes and ruptured. She had a lot of internal bleeding, but the doctor told her she was lucky she didn't need a hysterectomy. Only the split tube was removed and she could 'still conceive naturally' in the future.

She wished they removed both tubes. It would save (Y/n) all the pain she was going to have soon enough.

She wanted kids, but her body didn't agree. She wanted to get past fourteen weeks and have a healthy baby instead of evicting them all and feeling like a failure.

Hen had agreed not to tell Eddie because it was (Y/n)'s choice and she didn't want to worry him or anyone at the station. Bobby only knew (Y/n) had gone for an emergency operation, he was under the impression it was for a general women's problem, which it sort of was. (Y/n) had two weeks off, spun Eddie the same lie as Bobby and pretended everything was fine.

She couldn't do that again. Not with Evan.

"Baby, you okay?" Evan tapped his knuckles tiredly on the bathroom door and gingerly poked his head round.

He wondered what (Y/n) was up to, she had been out of bed for a while and Evan was starting to get lonely. But when he leaned against the door and looked down, his heart softened and his smile faded as he sighed.

"Okay, let's take a look at you." The tiredness Evan felt washed away immediately and he crouched down in front of (Y/n). He watched the way she limply lifted her head to look up at him and she tried to smile but couldn't quite manage it.

He cupped her face in his hands and pressed his fingers against her neck to check her pulse. His heart fluttered when (Y/n) managed a lopsided grin when he pressed the back of his hand against her temple. She was burning up, and he could see that she'd been sick.

She hadn't been unwell when she came over to his place this afternoon after he came off shift. They agreed to have dinner together tonight and (Y/n) was staying the night so Evan could drive them both to work for their shifts tomorrow. But he wasn't taking her if she was still throwing up in the morning, he would tell her to stay here at his place and rest.

"You're burning up, are you in pain sweetheart?"

(Y/n) pulled herself up off the toilet and looped her arms around Evan's neck, burrowing her face into his neck.

She felt him hum and smile as he tucked his face into the crook of her neck and wrapped his arms around her waist. If she wasn't just sick, Evan would have made a comment about her wearing his clothes. He hadn't seen her in his clothes before now but it was something he could easily get used to.

All she was wearing was her underwear and one of Evan's grey shirts that scarcely covered her bum and hung high over the top of her thighs.

"I feel better now." (Y/n) sucked in a deep breath when Evan moved his hands to cup the back of her thighs as he began to stand. He effortlessly lifted her up with him and hooked her legs around his torso so he could carry her back to bed.

"Hm, well I don't think you're going to work tomorrow."

"I'll be fine," (Y/n) whispered into his neck while she leaned her cheek on his shoulder. She didn't hide the fact she was staring up at him and when Evan looked down at her with a cocky grin, her smile softened even more.

She would be fine to go to work in a few hours, this was only morning sickness and it wouldn't last long. (Y/n) knew it wouldn't. But she couldn't tell Evan why she was ill, not without opening up a very bad conversation that she didn't want nor need right now.

"I'll be the judge of that, sweetheart. Come on, back to bed." Evan wasn't taking her word for it when she was burning up and had just been sick. He would see if she could sleep it off and check her over in the morning. There was no way he was letting (Y/n) go to work tomorrow if she wasn't well. He knew (Y/n) well enough to know she would try and work and overdo things when she wasn't well.

"Whatever you say, Buckley."

She pressed hollow, open-mouthed kisses along Evan's neck as he carried her up the stairs towards his bed.

God, what was she going to do?

#evan buckley #911 imagine #imagine #pregnant! reader #evan buckley imagine #evan buckley x reader #buck x reader #buck imagine #eddie diaz #bobby nash

386 notes · View notes

lovelybucky1 · 6 months

Text

trailer trash!anakin

this au was a joint effort with my bff @fuckmyskywalker 🫶🫶🫶

warnings: DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT, alcohol consumption, smoking, mentions of drug use, age gaps, unprotected sex, mentions of pregnancy, anakin is objectively a bad person in this, 18+ minors DNI

masterlist

Anakin and Padme divorced many years ago because he was a deadbeat father, an alcoholic, and she suspected him of an affair. Little did she know, it wasn't just one affair.

Anakin has three kids who are now all adults. He has an older daughter who's just like her mother and has no patience for her dad's bullshit, and a set of twins, a boy and a girl. His son has his temper, much to his mother's dismay, and his younger daughter is his little princess.

Padme and the kids stayed in the house, so he had to move to a trailer park across town. Padme always did all of the housework, which was part of the reason for the divorce, so Anakin's place is always a wreck.

There's beer cans and cigarette butts everywhere, laundry on the floor, dishes piled in the sink, playing cards scattered around. They're not all his, some of the mess can be attributed to his buddies he invites over on the weekends, but either way, he makes no effort to clean it up.

Since his wife, Anakin hasn't dated. He's brought home plenty of girls, all significantly younger than he is. Any time he's asked about it, he explains that he just prefers younger girls. He and Padme were only 19 when they got together, so he's used to being with a younger woman.

Anakin is in his forties now, but he doesn't act his age. He has a job at the mechanic's shop and he does what minimal dad duties are required of him, though now that his kids are adults, he isn't needed as much. In his free time, he gets drunk and high with his friends, goes to strip clubs, and gambles his money away.

You're a waitress at the diner near the trailer park. Anakin is a regular, though your coworkers told you he only comes in when you're working. He usually orders a cup of coffee and sits at the counter where he can flirt with you every time you walk by.

He's told you a lot about himself; you know what kind of guy he is. Borderline alcoholic, irresponsible, unfaithful. Maybe you should've listened to your parents when they told you to stay away from older guys because you've found yourself charmed by him.

Anakin showers you in compliments, especially when you wear your hair in pigtails. He tips generously even though you know he doesn't have much extra money to spare. He asks about your day and he really seems like he cares.

He knows you don't have a car and one day, when your shift was about to end, he offered you a ride home. You agreed like the naïve little thing you are and got into the passenger seat of his shitbox car. He asked if you wanted to stop at his place for a bit before he took you home. Said he had beer and he could scrape together something a bit sweeter for you if you'd prefer.

The two of you flipped through the stations on his TV until you found something good, but you didn't get to watch it for long. After the second commercial break, Anakin pulled you into his lap and grabbed at your ass greedily. You giggled and slapped at his chest playfully, and though he returned your smile, you could see the hunger in his eyes.

Anakin told you he's been obsessed with you since he first saw you. Said you're the prettiest thing he's ever laid eyes on. Said you make him feel young again. That's the kind of sweet talk that gets him all the girls that don't know better.

He drags you to the bedroom and he kisses you dizzy so you don't notice how the fitted sheet is pulled up over the corner of the mattress or the Baywatch poster on the wall. He gets on his back and sits you on top of him, ever the lazy bastard. He wants you to put on a show for him to watch eagerly like you're his personal porn star.

Your tight cunt grips him perfectly and your tits bouncing in his face mesmerize him. He loves how you're so eager to give yourself up to him. Loves that you're inexperienced enough that every tough feels electric. Loves that you're dumb enough that his promise to pull out is enough.

When you're finished, he holds you in his arms against his bare chest while he smokes. When he looks in your eyes, he knows he has you. You're gonna move in and make this place a home, you'll get pregnant and he'll promise to marry you once he has enough money for a ring. Maybe this time he'll stick around, but Anakin's never been good at breaking cycles.

#anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #anakin skywalker fanfic #anakin skywalker smut #trailer trash!anakin #anakin au #anakin skywalker au #star wars #star wars smut #star wars au #star wars fanfiction

610 notes · View notes

deluweil · 1 month

Text

People are joking about ABC realizing why FOX put Ryan in interview jail - Without realizing the consequences of what FOX and KR have done.

Actors don't say anything that they aren't allowed to say, that is Hollywood's iron rule when filming a project.

Whatever Ryan is saying, he was given permission to do it.

ABC sees and understands the ramification of the homophobic narrative forced on the show on FOX's network they can see the bad writing and the altogether 'don't give a fuck about this' attitude the show was getting from it's showrunners.

ABC wouldn't take something that is circling the drain just to continue with the bad form of handling the show got so far.

Now Ryan, bless him, he loves Buck and he loves Oliver and thank God he loves Eddie, he understands the character better than anyone, he also knew where it was supposed to go when Murphy first hired him.

KR taking over put a wrench in that original plan but the choices made by both writers and actors on screen showed her exactly where she could shove her heteronormative narrative.

ABC is simply amplifying the obvious cast and writers cry and giving them a safe heaven to exist in peace.

It's not for nothing that the publicity and the premiere party were this big, this is a promise to the cast and crew that they will be treated better than the crap hole FOX network treated them.

Now, I don't know what will happen, but gay storyline or not, Eddie does love Buck to the core, it doesn't have to be in a romantic sense, it can be in any way possible, that saying alone does not scream gay, everything else that happened in the story up until now, however, does.

Because in CF Severide and Casey loved each other to the core in their best friend way, Vic and Travis love each other to the core in Station 19 without there being a romantic entanglement, Gibson loved Miller until he died still managing to stay straight lol and same for Cruz and Otis in CF - both had gfs both loved each other like brothers.

Eddie loves Buck, it doesn't have to mean anything romantic unless it was played into it, 911 leaned into it and failed to follow through on FOX, I am hoping ABC gives them that last shove.

After all, ABC is the home of Station 19, Home of the beautiful Marina pair, and the first male bi-character, finally, portrayed brilliantly by Eli in S6.

So stop saying Ryan is simply burning the house down, he does better PR for this show than all the anemic interviews Oliver was instructed to give so far.

Again, not Oliver's fault, KR made him, picked her favorite and dragged him down with her kicking and screaming. Shame on her and FOX.

#a little psa #ryan guzman #eddie diaz #evan buckley #oliver stark #911 spoilers #911 speculation #911 abc #fox and KR suck!#thank you ryan!#buddie

335 notes · View notes

pandorxxx · 1 year

Text

Sleeping beauty

Lo’ak (19) x Avatar fem reader (19)

Warnings: somnophilla, intense orgasms, cursing, p in v, choking, creampie

🔞Minors, do not interact🔞

Lo’ak crept in like a thief in the night, walking towards your lifeless avatar body. He kneeled down beside your cot, caressing your arm.

“My sweet, y/n. You’re so beautiful when you sleep.” He whispered, tracing your body up and down. He looked around, ensuring that no one was watching. He pulled the sheet back, climbing on top of you. He bent down to your neck, kissing it softly as he fondled your breasts. He slid down your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses before reaching your loincloth. He gently pulled it down, unwrapping it from around your ankles.

He sat up, admiring your half naked body. He slowly pulled your legs back to reveal your glistening cunt. He licked his lips before bending down to French kiss it, sucking on your clit. He sat up, eyeing you lustfully as he untied his loincloth. He threw it to the side before lining himself up with your entrance, sliding into you slowly. He bit his lip, trying his best to suppress his moans, but he couldn’t help it.

“Mhmm shit!” He strained, pulling your leg onto his shoulder as he thrusted into you deeply. He kissed your ankle, looking down at your, still unconscious body…and nothing. He almost forgot that you were an avatar, lifeless without your consciousness.

Back at the lab

“I’ll take you tomorrow. You’ve got to get out of this lab.” Neteyam chuckled, watching you work on your computer. You rolled your eyes, shaking your head.

“Neteyam, I’m busy. Hallelujah mountains next week, I promise.” You spoke soullessly, razor focused on your computer. All of the sudden, your computer was slammed shut, and you were whipped around to face him.

“I said tomorrow.” Neteyam spoke, eyeing you up and down before meeting your eyes again. Now, all you could focus on was him. You traced his entire body before looking back into his eyes. You nodded wildly, chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Smart choice.” He smiled, kissing your lips before standing up straight. You blushed, turning your seat back around to your desk.

“Now if you would excuse me, I have to go sleep next to my lifeless girlfriends body tonight.” He smiled sarcastically, walking towards the door.

“I’ll be up when you get there, neteyam.” You chuckled, fanning him away as you leaned back in your chair.

“Ah Yes! that is what you always say. Then I find you sleep at your desk the next morning.” He replied, walking out of the door.

“ILL BE THERE! I PROMISE!” You shouted, watching him close the door behind him. You fell into deep thought for a moment:

Was I really neglecting Neteyam? That’s definitely not my intention. I’m just busy, he understands that right?

You sighed, rubbing your hands through your hair before standing. You walked over to the linking station, queuing up the transformation.

You opened the top, laying down before shutting it. You took a deep breath before closing your eyes, as you felt your mind travel to your avatar.

As your mind shifted to your avatar, you could feel your surroundings changing; the smells, the textures, the air. Your ears twitched when you heard faint moans, and grunts. You could feel a familiar sensation in your lower abdomen. Your eyes finally shot opened to an unbelievable scene.

“Hey, baby. You’re finally up!” Lo’ak muttered breathlessly as he rolled his hips into yours slowly, watching your consciousness pour into your body. You shot up, trying to push him off of you, but he pinned you back down by your neck.

“w-what the fuck are y-ughhh you doing?” You whined, unfortunately feeling your orgasm slowly approaching. He speed up the pace, hitting your sweetspot with each stroke.

“I’m fucking you, duh?!” He smiled sarcastically, licking his lips before kissing your leg again, maintaining eye contact. You threw your head back, involuntarily submitting to his touch. You tried to push him back with the little energy you had, but he was fucking you too good.

“Lo’ak! neteyam will be back any second.” You moaned, turning away from his gaze. He grabbed your neck tighter, turning you towards him.

“You don’t wanna look me in the eyes? Huh? Afraid you might fall in love?” He asked, tilting his head at you before reaching down to plant wet kisses on your neck.

“Fuck, lo’ak! Im serious! He’s on the way.” You whined, nudging his head to get him to sit up. He hissed loudly, sitting up to meet your nervous gaze.

“I’ll be quick, y/n! So you can go back to your perfect little boyfriend like you’re not seconds away from squirting off the strength of ME.” He growled, rolling his eyes as he rolled his hips into yours once more, making your legs twitch.

“yeah yeah, whatever! Just don’t stop!” You moaned, grabbing his broad arm. You bit your lip, swirling your hips into his, feeling your orgasm coming.

“Lo’ak, I-I’m almost there!” You shouted shamelessly, earning a shocked look from lo’ak. His eyes widened, covering your mouth quickly.

“Woah woahhh, what the fuck? Shut up! Are you stupid?” He joked, keeping his hand over your mouth to muffle your screams. He watched your eyes roll back as you started to spazz in his grasp. You whimpered in his hand, cumming all over his cock.

“Ahhh fuck, you keep clenching around me like that and I’m gonna fill you up.” He groaned, rutting into you as he chased his orgasm. You nodded frantically wrapping your tail around his thigh. He looked up at you through his eyebrows.

“Y/n, no! Are you fucking crazy?” He yelled quietly, throwing his head back as he felt his peek nearing. You yanked your leg off of his shoulder, wrapping both of your legs around his torso, pulling him closer to you. His eyes widened at the realization that he was stuck.

“Y/n, stop fucking around. I-I’m almost there, shitttt!” He laid his head on your chest as you wrapped your arms around him, scratching his back up as you chased your second orgasm.

“Lo’akkkk!” You whined loudly, eyes rolling back as your legs started shaking. He rolled his eyes, placing his hand on your mouth again.

“Bro, hush! I know it’s good and all, but-” He chuckled, but was quickly cut off by you spazzing harder than last time. He watched your spit slip through the cracks of his fingers as it dripped down your chin. You were going cross eyed as your whole body shook uncontrollably.

“Goddamn…” Lo’ak muttered, watching you seize under him. He was shocked that he had you feeling this way. He thrusted into you slowly, letting you ride out your high. You finally came to, eyes wide as you tried desperately to catch your breath.

“Was that your first time cumming like that? Neteyam could never make you feel this good.” Lo’ak grunted, thrusting into you relentlessly as he felt his orgasm approaching again.

“Shit, w-where do you want it?” He asked, contorting his face in pleasure. He looked into your desperate eyes, shaking his head all knowingly.

“Y/n…come on! Don’t make this hard for me.” He pouted jokingly, pushing your damp hair out of your face. You gripped his arm tightly, rolling your hips into his again.

“Shittt, stop that!” He strained, smacking your hand away. You clenched around him repeatedly, smiling into his hand.

“Y/N!” was all he could say before painting your walls with his seed. He convulsed, falling into your arms as you both tried catching your breath.

“And I thought I was crazy…” lo’ak panted, pulling out of you slowly, taking his hand from across your mouth. You gasped loudly, licking the spit from around your lips. He watched you in awe, slapping his tip on your sticky cunt.

“We gotta do this more often. How do you feel about that, mama?” He glared at you, rubbing his cock in between your sensitive folds. You sat up on your elbows, solely focusing on his cock.

“Mhmm!” you bit your lip, nodding your head frantically. He shot you a sadistic grin, getting off the cot to put his loincloth back on. You quickly found your loincloth, tying it around your hips as well. He looked back to see you wrapping yourself in the sheet, watching his every move. He bit his lip, winking at you before walking towards the door.

He stopped in his tracks, seeing Neteyam sprint around the corner. Neteyam stopped, shooting lo’ak a confused look. You shut your eyes instantly, pretending to be sound asleep.

“h-hey lo’ak. Is something wrong?” He asked confused, looking at him and then back at your sleeping body under the sheets. Lo’ak looked back at you, almost bursting out in laughter as he watched you fake sleep to save your own ass.

“Uhh no, I was just looking for my dagger. Mom said that it might be in here, but I’m not seeing it. I was sure to be quiet, so I wouldn’t wake her.” Lo’ak explained, gesturing softly. Neteyam shook his head, smiling at his younger brother.

“Baby bro, you have GOT to stop losing your weapons!” Neteyam chuckled, slapping his hand on lo’aks shoulder. Lo’ak sighed in relief, laughing along with his brother. Neteyam shot his head back at you, watching you sleep soundly.

“Did she move at all?” Neteyam asked, walking over to you. Lo’ak thought back to about 5 minutes ago; how he gave you 2 body shaking orgasms. He smiled to himself before speaking.

“Not an inch, bro.”

Last story of the week, and this might be my favorite one. Had to make it funny😂. As always, I love y’all to death, and I’ll see y’all soon!!❤️🫶🏽🫶🏽

Outtie❤️🖖🏾,

Pandorxx

2K notes · View notes

theemporium · 27 days

Note

NO DRINKS FOR SVECH??? oh absolutely not! lets give him a lil dirty flirtini! "Let's flip coins. Head, I'm yours. Tails, you're mine."

thank you for requesting!🫶🏽

19. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.”

“You look pretty lonely over here.”

You paused, the rim of your glass hovering just at your lips as you turned your head to find a familiar face grinning at you. In all honesty, you were surprised it had taken him as long as it did to come over, considering the fact his eyes had been glued to the second you walked into the bar.

“You been watching me?” You asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Maybe,” Andrei murmured, his cheeks rosy and pink from whatever drinks he had been nursing since the win earlier that night. It was a big one, one that deserved the boys heading out to a local bar and pretending like they didn’t have practice the next day. “Thought you’d come and say hi.”

Against your better judgement, your eyes flickered over to where the boy had been stationed for most of the night. Most of the players were sitting around or near the booth, along with a flurry of girls in a mix of jerseys that had followed them from the rink. You tried to not roll your eyes at the sight.

“You looked busy,” you answered eventually with a halfhearted shrug.

Andrei was grinning when you looked back at him. “Not fun when my favourite girl doesn’t talk to me, though.”

You tried to ignore the way your face heated up at his words. “You trying to sweet me up so I buy you a drink, Svech?” It was meant to be teasing, funny even. Something to cover up the fact the boy had more of an affect on you than you cared to admit.

“Maybe I was hoping you’d let me buy you a drink,” he retorted, stepping a little closer until his arm was leaning against the counter and his body was mere inches away from you.

You cleared your throat, taking a long sip of your drink.

Andrei tilted his head to the side. “Do I make you nervous?”

“No,” you lied before turning to face him again, his eyes watching you with focused intent. “I just…”

“You just?” He prompted, fingers lightly tapping against the wood of the bartop.

“I just thought you would have more fun over there,” you answered eventually, nodding in the direction of the booth where the majority of the team was still sitting. “I was probably going to leave after this drink.”

“It wouldn’t be fun over there,” Andrei said with a shake of his head. “Not without you.”

“Andrei,” you sighed, his name heavy on your tongue. Because he did this. He always did this when the two of you were drunk. He would come over, make you feel all warm and fuzzy with his flirty words and cute accent and then you would feel like an absolute idiot in the morning when he acted like nothing had happened. “I can’t keep doing this.”

It was adorable the way he frowned in confusion. You hated yourself a little for thinking it was adorable.

“Doing what?” He questioned, his lips turned downwards.

“This. Us. This friends with benefits situation,” you confessed, your chest feeling oddly tight as you managed to spit the words out. Every cell in your body was screaming for you to stop, to not rip away the chance to feel his body pressed against yours again. But your brain knew better, your brain was being logical. “It isn’t healthy.”

Andrei blinked. “You think we are just friends?”

Your gut twisted a little. “You think we aren’t?”

“I–” Andrei looked a little bashful, and it was oddly endearing to see. He seemed to contemplate something, his eyes watching your expression closely before he spoke again. “Let’s make a bet.”

You paused, thinking you misheard him. “What?”

“A bet. You know, with a coin,” he continued, and hints of that self-assured smirk started to appear as he stepped forward. His hand cupped your elbow, keeping you close as the small distance between you closed and that familiar warmth of him overwhelmed your senses.

“A coin,” you repealed, still a little lost in his touch to fully compute what he was saying.

“Yes,” he nodded, smiling down at you with that grin that made your heart lurch a little in your chest. “Let’s flip a coin. Heads, I’m yours. Tails, you’re mine.”

You could feel your cheeks burning. “I—”

“You weren’t just a friend to me,” he spoke up, a little more serious as he lifted his other hand to gently cup the back of your head. “I just thought…I don’t know. I thought you knew. There was no one but you for me. From the start.”

You blinked, your chest feeling heavy for a whole other reason now. “Oh.”

“Can I buy you the drink now?” He asked, that playful smile of his spreading across his face as his thumb lightly brushed against your cheek. “Or do I have to find a coin to flip?”

“You did say it was a bet,” you teased.

“If that’s what it takes, malysh,” he murmured, his gaze dipping down to your lips and, for a second, you thought he would lean down to kiss you. But then, he was stepping back and you found yourself instantly disappointed as he continued to walk backwards.

“Where are you going?”

His grin widened. “To find a coin and make you mine!”

You snorted. “I might win.”

“I’m not complaining.”

#cece's cocktail celebration #andrei svechnikov #nhl #carolina hurricanes #andrei svechnikov x reader #andrei svechnikov x you #andrei svechnikov x y/n #andrei svechnikov fic #andrei svechnikov one shot #nhl x reader #nhl x you #nhl x y/n #nhl fic #nhl one shot

163 notes · View notes

leosxrealm · 3 months

Text

003 — ɴᴏᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ

★— pairing(s): Max Verstappen x Male! Leclerc! Reader

★— warning(s): none!! possible grammar mistakes, hints of angst

★— (a/n): idk a lot about modeling either so i just made up what i think would happen there. we're finally building up the plot (barely started), not proofread!

★— character information | series masterlist

19-22

September 3, 2019

"Tilt your head to the right... just a bit... yeah, just like that." You did as you were told. You hear the sound of the camera and the lights flashing. The photographer takes another quick shot.

The director goes to check the pictures that were taken recently. The photographer gives you a quick nod, a little something he does to indicate he liked the pictures.

"Okay everyone!" the director claps his hands to get everyone's attention, "15-minute break, and then we do the last shoot for the day!"

There was a chorus of sighs of relief from everyone around you. It looks like everyone else couldn't wait to leave the studio either.

You return to the changing rooms along with a few of your coworkers. You had gotten to know some of them over the past few months and could now confidently call them your friends.

You pick up your phone from your makeup station. Opening it, you see a couple of texts from your friends and brothers. Clicking open your brother's contact, you answer his recent messages.

"Tell him to come up," another model who you've befriended said, looking over your shoulder. "Is that even allowed?" you ask. He had been in the industry for far longer than you; he was sort of like an upperclassman to you.

"Friends and families come to shoots all the time," he said emphasizing the word 'all', "Usually you have to get permission and stuff but it's the end of the shoot. Nobody has enough energy to care."

"Oh."

He pats you on the shoulder, getting up from the chair beside yours, "You will have to go downstairs to get them. The security won't let them through." "Thanks, mate," you call after him, he throws a lazy smile your way, disappearing into one of the changing stalls.

"Uh...you guys can sit on the couches over there," you say pointing to the couches near the makeup stations, "and we have snacks over there," you say pointing to the opposite side of the couches, "and right next to that, we have refrigerators. Help yourself with the drinks."

You show your brother around for a bit before settling on the makeup station with your name on it. Your makeup artist gets to work immediately, getting you ready for the last shoot, when you hear your name being called. You let out an exhale, mentally preparing yourself for the last of the shoot.

---

"Damnnnn... you're actually good at something," Arthur says, chuckling at his own little joke. "At least I look natural," you retort back, earning a punch on the arm from your twin.

"I look natural in my photos," he says back defensively, looking at Charles for some kind of reaffirmation. Charles turns his head, deciding not to comment on his younger brother's awkward poses for photoshoots. You snicker at your older brother's reaction, earning a smack on the back of your head from your twin.

"Okay... Are you two hungry? What do you want to eat?" Charles finally intervenes, before you two decide to start a full-on brawl. "Man...," you whine out, "I'm starving."

"Me too," Arthur adds with a scowl. "We couldn't even get food because someone," he gives you a stink eye, "can't even finish up by the time they said they would."

You roll your eyes at him, ready to retort back when Charles' car comes into view. "I call shotgun!" you say, running towards the car. "Bitch-" Arthur runs to catch up, leaving Charles behind. Charles shakes his head, long given up on you two. Freaking kids, he thinks.

You look in the rearview mirror, at Arthur's scowling face. He scoffs looking out the window, still pissy about having to sit in the back. You laugh at him (again), resulting in him kicking your seat. Charles finally decides to cut in before the two of you destroy his baby.

Charles mentally celebrates when the restaurant comes into view. At least he won't have to worry about his baby getting destroyed for another hour or two. He sighs once again, pushing the both of you inside. Freaking kids, he thinks (once again).

"Oh yeah, what happened to that girl you were dating?" Arthur asks just as you were about to bite into your food.

---

18-21

You raised your hand, ready to press the doorbell, before lowering it back again. Taking a deep breath, you ring the doorbell. You cleared your throat while waiting for the door to open. Hearing the door open, you look up.

Max sucks in a deep breath, not expecting to come face-to-face with you. Is that a suit you're wearing? Are those flowers in your hands? "Wha-what are you doing here?" He questions you, suddenly remembering how to speak.

"Oh... Um... I'm here for-" you begin to say before stopping abruptly. You look up suddenly, and Max thinks it's to look at him, but instead, you look behind him. The corners of your lips lift up into a soft smile.

(a/n): i'm sorry the title is so lame😭 anyway any guesses what's happening?

ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ (ᴏᴘᴇɴ): @miloformula123fan @its-ares @fangirl-dot-com @wolf-knights @zyonsay @1obsessedwithfictionalmen7 @fevndue @erinpiastri @woozarts @sebastianstansblog @badblondebisexualboy @lovecarsgoingvroom @kurating @saintraikkonen @v3lnys

#★—wish you were (mv1)#formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen #charles leclerc #f1 x reader #f1 x male reader #formula 1 x male reader #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x male reader #charles leclerc x male reader #charles leclerc x reader #x male reader #male reader #gay #leo's works #leosxrealm

202 notes · View notes

deathbecomesthem · 6 months

Text

You Can't Go Home Again

Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader | 8.1K Words

Hawkins, Indiana - 2006. Reader and Eddie are both 40. The Reader has a 19 year old daughter that is mentioned.

Summary: You're both in town for a funeral. This is a love story.

Contains smut, death, love, booze, and weed. Just like all the best things in life, you take the good with the bad or your ass misses out.

+18 only. No one under the age of 18 has my consent to interact with anything on my blog. I am old enough to be your mother.

If you like this story, please let me know. Reblogs are strongly encouraged. If it doesn't get passed around, it dies in this spot. Thank you @jo-harrington and @br0ck-eddie for reading this over and telling me it's worth publishing on this blog. I love you both more than words can express.

---

You can’t go home again. Or so you’ve been told. Yet here you are, zooming down the familiar stretch of highway that leads back to that place. You turn the thought over in your mind while your hand surfs against the wind outside of your car window. You aren’t going home, not really. Hawkins isn’t your home anymore. It hasn’t been since you pulled out of your parents’ driveway over a decade ago.

At least he had the common decency to die as the leaves started changing color, you think to yourself while your hand surfs in the wind outside your open window. The view is really spectacular. The trees look like they’re on fire as the sun begins to dip below the canopy. Indiana is flatland, but it’s still pretty in its own way. Wide open, it bares itself to you. It is what it is. There are no hills to hide behind. Not in these parts, anyway.

As you cross the county line, you flip on the radio and tune to the local country station. Might as well acclimate, you think, but really, you’re happy to hear Bonnie Raitt’s bluesy voice as you pull off the highway. She’s singing about how she can’t make someone love her, and you hold up an imaginary glass to toast the sentiment. That’s something you’ve learned the hard way.

I’ll close my eyes, then I won’t see.

The love you don’t feel when you’re holding me.

You don’t realize a tear has escaped your eye until you feel it rolling down your cheek. You wipe it away angrily and wonder when every little thing will stop making the tears come. It doesn’t matter, not right now. Not this week. Tears are appropriate for a funeral, and it’s what everyone will expect to see from you. Even if they’re borrowed tears.

At the stop sign at the corner of Elm and Maple you sit longer than the 3 seconds required by law. It’s not until a BMW pulls up behind that you push up the indicator to hook a right. As you pass by the entrance to Forrest Hills, Deanna Carter is singing about Strawberry Wine and being 17. You can feel heat rising in your cheeks when you let your own memories flit across your mind. It’s true, the hot July moon really did see everything the summer of 1985.

You chuckle at yourself and turn the wheel, left this time. The old motel is up on the right, just at the Hawkins line. You’ve spent too much of your life thinking about a time that only existed for a moment. And it doesn’t matter anyway, because despite all of the daydreams you’ve had about running into him throughout the years, it’s never happened. And you’ve never taken the time to look. You’ve only seen him in your dreams, and what a delight that’s been.

The gravel crunches under your tires, and the feeling that something’s been forgotten rises like a wave. Every couple of hours, it comes unbidden. No, you haven’t forgotten her, she’s in her new apartment on the other side of town from your own. Right now, she’s probably out to dinner with Janey. It’s discount movie night, and that’s something every college student knows to take advantage of. You’re not forgetting her, but her absence leaves a hole that can only be filled with anxiety. It’s something no one really tells you, something that you wouldn’t be able to understand from words alone - your children are a piece of yourself that moves freely in the world. The further you move from them, the deeper the cut.

You’ve already decided you’ll try to call tonight, hoping against hope that she’s still at her place when you ring in. Hearing her voice will fill you a little, and maybe at least make sleep easier. Maddy told you she’d miss you, and you know that’s true. It’s a good thing to hear each other every day, even if it’s only for a moment.

When you come around a wide curve in the road, you’re pleased to see that the bar next to the motel is still standing, and that the lights are on. You’re getting drunk tonight. Why not? For the first time in a long time, you’re only accountable for yourself. Hawkins can swallow you up for the week, and no one outside of this place will see it. And then you’ll never step foot into Indiana again.

—

It’s stupid, and he knows it. He hasn’t been back here in years, and the only reason he’s doing this is because he liked the old guy. Wayne taught him to respect that. To show up for the family. Always go to the funeral, he’d told him, it eases the pain for the loved ones and makes ‘em remember there were people in the world that gave a shit about ‘em. When Eddie was a kid, he remembered how it felt to look out into the church and see so many faces with tears in their eyes. He remembered thinking that it was important that so many people turned out to say goodbye to his Mama, even if they were people that he never got to know outside of that mourning space. Wayne was right, it does matter. It does help. And he’s showing up, even if the thought of seeing you makes his stomach dip and his heartbeat faster.

It’s not about you, you fucking idiot. The words have been surfacing in his mind over and over this last week. It’s not about him, and he knows that. At least, his brain knows that, but there’s a place deep inside of him that can’t help but think about the possibility of something. Of what? Well, if he thinks too hard about it, his dick takes over. There have been many times over the years that Eddie let his mind wander back to his 18th summer, when the heat of your bodies rivaled the heat of the sun beating down on the two of you. Many times he’s touched himself, trying to find the right way to move his fingers to replicate the way your hands felt on him. He’s ashamed of it. He tries not to think about it, but the news of the funeral seems to have lit that spark inside of him again, just as he thought the old smoldering embers were finally snuffed out.

He told Wayne he’d be driving up for the services, hoping the old guy would be able to bring the rambler to meet him in Hawkins. It would save him the cost of a motel room, and the death of the old man’s friend is an unwelcome reminder that everything comes to an end eventually. But Wayne isn’t going to make it. Eddie should’ve known. As much as Wayne taught him about being there for the family, Wayne was closer to Jim than his blood ever was. Especially you. Wayne would be the first to admit that Jim made his bed, and now he’ll spend his eternal rest in it. Wayne will mourn in his own way, he’ll come down when no one knows he’s there to pour one out on his buddy’s grave. That’s alright. It’s how Jim would want it. The funeral will be a farce. People saying goodbye to an old bastard that no one really liked.

When Eddie passes the southerly Indiana border, his ass really starts to get sore. He should’ve flown in and rented a car. He’s getting too old for these long bike rides, and the Indian’s seat isn’t made for this kind of trip. He’s never seen the need to replace the warehouse installed seat, his daily commutes to the construction trailer are short, and he takes a work truck out to the job sites. Maybe it’s time to think about investing in a vehicle that allows for a little more comfort. His ass is only going to spread more from here on out. Turning 30 was like hitting a brick wall, all the years of fun have finally caught up. Now that he’s passed the 40-year mark, every day is a new opportunity to feel aches in parts of his body he never thought about in his younger years. Sometimes he would swear that he could feel his small intestine groan when he caught a whiff of something greasy. And sometimes he can’t go through the night without having to hop out of bed to take a piss. The most obvious reminder for Eddie is looking in the mirror and seeing the way his old tattoos have turned gray over the years, especially his beloved bats. Working outside in the sun has made them fade, and no amount of touch ups can bring them back to their former glory. Sometimes he thinks about you running your fingers over them, the way you ran them along the outline of the wings.

Time passes, and tattoos fade like memories. He knows too. He got to watch Wayne age, see the lines dig deeper and deeper into his face while he made sure Eddie kept a roof over his head. It’s amazing for him to think about the old guy, not really as old as he used to think. Eddie’s got more years than Wayne did back in those days. Close enough to be brothers more than father and son, but neither of them got a choice when it was time for his own Mama to go into the ground. The only one choosing in those days was Al, and every decision was a wrong one.

Eddie hates coming back to Hawkins, it stirs up the old shit he doesn’t think about anymore. It’s easier to see those times through rose colored glasses when he isn’t smack dab in the middle of the town that cut him so deeply in so many different ways. But he’s showing up. He’s doing this thing because it’s right. It has nothing to do with the minute possibility that he might get to find out how the years have treated you. Especially since he knows how you left Hawkins. But time does heal. Eddie’s proof of that.

—

The roadside motel is in better shape than you expect, so you strike your mental chalkboard on the pro side. At least you have a clean bed to sleep in for the next 6 nights. At least you won’t be forced to sleep on Uncle Jim’s couch. You think about what it will feel like being in his little shack. You think about how his own kids won’t show up to sift through his shit belongings to pull out any hidden treasures before the bank throws it all in the dumpster. You’re doing this thing for your father, because he asked you to. You need to make sure the stuff that ended up with Jim when your grandma died doesn’t get lost forever. No cash value to any of it, but it’s worth something to your dad, and he can’t face the ghost of his brother. Not even for his mother’s wedding band, or the family bible.

Your first thought when you opened the door to your home for the week was that you could still smell the faint scent of bleach hanging in the air. Good. These kinds of places have more personality, but it’s always a roll of the dice about cleanliness. The bed is soft, and the comforter smells of Snuggle. Also good. The scent is nostalgic, you can feel the muscles in your shoulders relax. You’ll be able to sleep here. You think that’s exactly what you’ll do. The heavy shades are drawn, so it’s full dark and quiet. You’ve got the room at that butts against the woods, but it doesn’t matter anyway, your car is the only one in the small parking lot tonight.

You’re sinking deeper into the mattress, and you begin to float away. You sit on the edge of sleep, about to topple over it when your ears begin to register a distant sound growing closer. It’s a purr that grows into a deep growling rumble. You stumble to your feet to peek your head out from behind your curtain. It’s full dark now, but the orange glow of the lights at each door along the row of rooms illuminates the parking lot enough for you to see the bike and its rider. Leather clad, head to toe, he’s wearing a small bucket helmet - the kind your daddy used to say they’d have to scoop your brains out of if you wrecked - and sunglasses. You watch him make his way to the door next to your own and let himself inside.

Well, you can think of a worse neighbor to have. At least you know you’re not alone out here. Maybe you’ll make a friend while you’re stuck in the hell that is Hawkins, Indiana. Maybe he'll let you bum a smoke or two.

—

You think about your call to Maddy while you walk down the street to the Hideout. She’s fine. All good. She got her new set of pots and pans from the big Sears out at the mall, and she didn't even need your help picking them out. Her dad did a good job. You’re happy for her. A girl doesn’t forget her first move away from home, and you suspect she's more nervous than she's been letting on. You can almost feel the butterflies beat in your own belly at the thought of rent checks and overtime while making it to class every morning. You hope she knows she can talk to you about it. You hope she remembers that you promised to help her if she gets into any jams. Maybe. Maybe not. She deserves to keep her secrets if it's how she wants to go about life. You'll be there either way.

Before you even open the door to the bar, you can smell the smoke and booze wafting through the cracks. That’s perfect. It’s why you’re here. You look down at your black jeans and smile. It took a few good jumps to get into, but your ass looks fantastic in them. You think you might even manage to get a drink out of someone, as long as the clientele is the same as it was when you were here last. Tammy Wynette is coming through the speakers of the jukebox, and the old curtains are pulled across the jury-rigged stage at the back. No band tonight. Just a couple of old drunks passing time at the sticky counter. You take the stool at the end, back facing the door, and think about what song you’ll choose for the room.

“Hello, ma'am,” a bright eyed 20 something from behind the bar greets you as you shift your weight to get comfortable on the cracked cushion under your ass. Ma’am. You decide to let that one slide and give him a big smile. “What can I get for you?”

“Oh, I think I’d like a whiskey sour, kind sir.” The words escape your lips without much thought. You haven’t had one in ages. Possibly the last time you had a drink as sweet as a whiskey sour was in this very bar. It wasn’t hard to get served with Big Dave behind the bar, especially when Eddie and the boys played.

The boy nods at you and gets to work on your drink. You see him flip through a rolodex of cards hidden under the bar, cheat sheets. He likely spends his nights pouring pitchers of Budweiser, rarely having to figure out how to make mixed drinks. Especially when the customers are good ole boys between the ages of 35 and 70. Even back in your day, the girls only showed up when there were boys their own age on the stage. You wonder if Bev is around somewhere. If she’s still kicking. The way the place still feels the same as it did back in '84 tells you she's still the owner of this shit stain of an establishment. But it's her shit stain, and good for her.

The bartender sets the glass in front of you with a cocktail napkin under it, fancy, and you feel a draft when the door at your back swings open. The drink isn’t bad, but you wouldn’t know if it was wrong. You don’t do mixed drinks. You’re a neat bourbon drinker. The sweet liquor does what it’s meant to, because you swear you can almost smell something familiar from the past as a figure goes past you. Like smoke and Old Spice with a hint of weed. This place is full of ghosts, you think, returning your focus back to glass coated in ice sweat.

“Hey, man. Three Wise Men and 3 fingers of Jim Beam.” The voice of the newcomer at the bar makes your head snap up. You watch his profile for a second. You see his hand disappear inside his jacket and come out with a pack of Camels. With a flick of his Zippo, his face is illuminated by the glow of the flame. You’ve seen it so many times, but even from this distance you catch sight of the creases that didn’t exist the last time you saw him. You wonder if you really did fall asleep if you’re really back in your motel room having one of your dreams again. The too sweet liquor on your tongue is real, and so must Eddie Munson be real.

You can’t peel your eyes from him, so you don’t try. You keep your gaze fixed to his face and wait for him to notice you. There are no words in you, and you’re afraid your legs will buckle if you try to stand up and walk over to him. You look at his hand, black lines decorate his knuckles. The ring on his left hand is silver, and you’re happy to see it sit on his middle finger. You banish the thought and break your gaze for a second to shake your stupid head.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Eddie’s voice echoes through the room, and everyone looks at him, even the drunk in the corner that can barely keep his head up. “Jesus Christ.”

Blood rushes to your head as he stands and makes his way over to you. Your heart is in your throat. You’d refused to let yourself believe that seeing Eddie this week was anything more than just a fleeting fantasy. The same fantasy that’s been playing through your mind for years. Pinch yourself, you fool. Too late, you’re standing on wobbly legs and giving him the kind of awkward hug reserved for old classmates - and apparently old lovers.

You break apart slowly, and sink down into your barstools, eyes never breaking contact. You think if you look away right now, he might turn into smoke and escape through the air vents. Your hands are on your lap, body still turned towards Eddie, Eddie Munson, and you pinch the skin between your thumb and index finger on your left hand until it hurts. This is real.

You’re both brought out of your shared reverie when the kid behind the bar slides Eddie’s drinks down to his new spot, along with the ashtray holding his still smoldering cigarette. Without a thought in your head, you pick it up and take a long drag before pinching it between your fingers to hand it back to him, filter out.

“So.” You exhale smoke through the word and let it hang for a second while Eddie brings the filter to his lips. The smoke of a kiss between the two of you hangs heavy in the air. “Eddie Munson, what brings you here tonight? Is Corroded Coffing playing a set later?”

Eddie’s crooked grin sits on his lips the same as it ever has, but it’s complemented by more fine lines at the corners of his eyes. You think it would be something to run a finger along them and feel the texture of his skin there.

“You know, I had this-” Eddie shakes his head and makes a noise like a huff of incredulity at what he hasn’t even said yet, “-I had this idea that I might see you here tonight. I’m sorry about Jim.”

“Oh,” you can’t hide the surprise on your face. The sudden presence of Eddie has scrubbed your mind clean of your purpose in Hawkins this week. Uncle Jim is dead. You try for a small frown, but decide against it and say, “yeah. I’m here for the funeral. Also, I promised my dad to go through the house before everything ends up at the dump.”

Eddie nods. His eyes dart across your face and then down to your hands. You’re suddenly very aware of the way your ring finger on your left hand still holds the indent of a band that’s been missing for months now. You think it may never truly leave you. You wonder if he’s seen it.

“Well, I think this is fate.” Eddie slaps his hand down on the bar, still as sticky as ever, and waves over the bartender that’s drying a glass with a bar towel. He turns back to you and says, “We’re drinking to that old bastard tonight.”

—

“Do you remember,” Eddie’s voice is too loud, but the only person left in the bar other than the two of you is a drunk with his head resting on the counter. He doesn’t seem bothered enough to lift his head, “breaking into the abandoned warehouse? Oh god, you were shaking like a leaf ‘Eddie, we should leave. What if someone’s hiding out in here?’” Eddie’s impersonation of your 18-year-old voice is both insulting and wildly inaccurate.

“You fucking asshole, you were the one that hauled ass out of there when a squirrel crawled out from under a desk. The noise you made,” you snort at the memory, “you sounded like my mom that time she found a dead mouse in her sugar dish.”

“That little fucker went straight for me, you can’t deny it.” Eddie’s finger is pointed directly between your eyes in an accusation. On instinct, you grab it with your fist and twist his arm. This is an old routine, one that the two of you had down pat all those years ago. Except now, Eddie’s a lot stronger, and he’s able to twist his arm back. You find your wrist in his strong grip, and you have no idea how it got there.

This is when you notice it. This is Eddie in front of you, but he’s not a boy. It’s not just your body that’s changed since the last time you were together. With his jacket thrown on the stool beside him, his forearms are bare before you. Sinful. Old ink and new, black lines and gray. But right now, it’s the flexed muscle that’s caught your eye. Oh, to be held by him.

The laughter in your chest dies and Eddie releases you. He waves the bartender down before he can call out a last call. One more round for the road, and you’re wishing you had a way to freeze this moment in time and keep him here.

But you can’t, so you take your final shots and hug each other. Jackets are thrown over shoulders, and you make your way side by side to the door.

“I’m staying at the motel on the corner. You should stop by sometime, I’ll be here all week.” You shove your shoulder into Eddie’s playfully and find that the booze has made your feet a little unstable. He puts an arm around you to keep you from stumbling.

“Well, let me walk you home then.” His arm doesn’t leave your side. You’re both hyper aware of the way his thumb strokes against the patch of soft exposed skin at your waist while you wander up the sidewalk, a little zig zag to your movements.

It’s been a night of sharing memories with no talk of the present. No acknowledgement of that indent on your finger where a ring lived for so long. You let yourself drink in the cool autumn air with Eddie’s arms holding you close to him. You let yourself feel held by him. You let yourself imagine that maybe this is real, and you let a sliver of moonlight pierce the darkness you’ve been hiding yourself in for these long months.

“This is my stop.” You pull away and lean your back against the door to your room at the end of rooms that line the facade of the old motel. It’s dark out, and the pale orange glow of the light above the door frame does little more than cast shadows across Eddie’s face. He could be mistaken for that boy if not for the way his shoulders stand wider than you remember. “Will you come in, Eddie?”

He tastes like whisky and smoke, and that’s just how you remember him. Gods, his mouth. His tongue moves swiftly across your lips, and your knees begin to sink. Those strong arms hold you up, they keep you in your spot so he can take his fill. This is the kind of kiss, one that makes you weak in the knees, that you thought was a thing that only existed in your past.

“So, yes?” You break apart from his kiss and rest your head in his chest to catch your breath.

“Yes, please.” Eddie kisses the top of your head and breathes in your hair before spinning you around to face the door. “Open the door, Sweetheart.”

The clicking of the door, and the snap of the deadbolt. Those things are clear, the anticipation of what comes next makes you laser focused on the feel of the metal under your fingers. And then it’s a flurry of mouths and hands. Teeth clicking, noses bumping. A stumble over a shoe in your shared path. You fall to the bed in a heap, it’s surprising how many articles of clothes have been discarded in the short distance between door and mattress.

“Is this real, or am I dreaming?” Eddie whispers into your neck, hot breath on the spot that he remembers makes you keen. His teeth test the skin, and you reward him with a gasp and a roll of your hips. “Fuck, I don’t care if I wake in a mess like a teenager. If this is a dream, I never want to leave it.”

You’d forgotten the way Eddie uses his words, but your body remembers the steps. Fingers waltz along your wider curves, they’re a quick study and map out the places that make you whine. Make you catch your breath. This is what he thinks about so often, the way you get lost under his touch. Your trust in him is still alive, and his need reaches a fever pitch.

“Eddie, please.” It’s all you can say, but it’s enough to snap Eddie out of his reverie. His hands are stroking the valley at your chest while his cock throbs against the cotton fabric of his boxers, hypnotized by the way your skin gives under the pressure of his fingers.

As above, so below. Hot mouths reach into one another as he spreads your legs and sinks his length into your heat. For a fleeting moment, it's a perfect union of bodies. Two as one. You need your breath as he reaches deeper inside you. He rests his forehead on yours and snaps harder into you. His open mouth takes the groans that leave you as he hits that tender and hard to reach place inside.

“You’re so fucking beautiful. You feel so good.” Eddie’s words float around your face as you reach your peak. It’s the words, not the ecstasy, which draw the tears from your eyes. Beautiful. You believe him, how could you not? You want to tell him that he’s beautiful, because he is. Instead you wrap your arms around him and kiss him while he cums. The last rocks of his hips move in rhythm with the languid kisses you share.

—-

You wake in the morning to find crumpled sheets in the space that was occupied by Eddie Munson as you drifted off to sleep. It really was a dream, you think, but the stickiness between your thighs tells you that there was a man in this bed last night. The idea that he’s left without a trace doesn’t even pass your mind, because not Eddie. He doesn’t do that.

You ignore the pounding at your temple and drop your feet to the carpet. A full bladder is an urgent thing that can’t be denied. The freezing tile under your toes jolts you to attention. You map your next steps while you piss, and then wash your hands. You take the time to brush your teeth before heading back into the dark bedroom to find an outfit for the day. It doesn’t matter where Eddie has wandered off to, you need to head over to Jim’s. Eddie can find you later. Eddie will find you later. That’s something you know. Right now? You need coffee. It’s when you go to put your shoes on that you see it. A tiny scrap of paper on the side table next to your keys.

I didn’t want to wake you. I had some business to take care of while I’m in town. Dinner? I’m staying in the room next to yours. I’ll be back by 6.

You shake your head. Your boozy brain missed it last night. Of course it’s Eddie in the room next to yours. The thought of him on that bike makes your head spin. Makes you throb. Dinner, sure. Food is fuel and you’re gonna fucking need it. In the meantime, you have a job to do.

The way to Jim’s house is familiar but strange. Like trying to hold onto a dream as you’re starting to wake. The roads have the same names, but the trees are taller. It feels smaller, the houses closer together. In no time, you’re pulling up the drive to the shack that stands at the far end of Oak Street. It’s easy to forget it, set a little farther back than the other homes, hidden in the shade of the oaks the road is named for.

With a deep breath, you step out of your car and move swiftly to the front door. The smell hits you immediately. It’s not overwhelmingly awful, but it’s not good. Mildew and smoke. It smells empty. So you fill it with the fall air by opening every window. You’re happy to keep your jacket on to replace the smoke with the smell of the dry oak leaves that litter the yard around the house.

The soundtrack to your day digging through the life of your Uncle Jim is provided by the records stacked up by the player in his living room. Bob Dylan, CCR, and Pink Floyd. It could be worse, so you’re grateful. The treasures you discovered hold no true financial value, but they are priceless. Photo albums of long-lost family members, depression glass cake stands and punch bowls, and the piece de resistance - the family bible. You run your fingers across the leather cover and smile. You did good, kid. Grandma’s ring, though. You’ll come back at least one more time and truly tear the place apart before you hit the road. If it’s here, it’s going home with you.

—

Rick’s place is still home for Eddie, more so than the trailer park ever was. Wayne’s home was never Hawkins, and it served him well to be back in the wild mountains of West Virginia from where the Munsons hail. But Rick is a Hawkins institution, and he’s only ever had love for Eddie without the pressure of the constant concern that weighed on Wayne and Eddie’s relationship. That’s how it is with a father and son. Rick is the fun uncle that taught Eddie a way to bring in cash without being under the thumb of some asshole. It’s served him well throughout his life, even now. Eddie can find work anywhere, he carries his skills in his hands.

Rick is expecting Eddie, and he’s sitting out front when the Indian hums up the road that hugs Lovers’ Lake. It’s still pretty out here from Eddie’s perspective, especially with the trees still hanging on to the leaves of various colors. Eddie’s already thinking about getting you to come out here with him before you both leave town at the end of the week. As soon as he caught sight of you last night he had decided to wring out as much as he could from this brief reunion. No time to waste, especially if maybe there’s someone you’re going home to. He’s not going to ask that question. He doesn’t want to know. For now, you’re both here, and that’s more than he thought could ever be possible.

“Eddie! Oh man, it’s been too long, brother.” Rick’s on his feet and meeting Eddie in the driveway for a bear hug. “Sight for sore eyes.”

They sit outside on the back deck for hours, talking about the old days and the new. They watch the sunlight dance along the ripples in the water when the occasional fish comes to the surface for a waterbug. They pass joints back and forth, and sip on the instant coffee that Rick swears is better than that overpriced bullshit the coffee houses try to con people into buying. And then they get down to business for a few minutes over a game of pool. Like the old days. It’s healing to remember there is a place in this godforsaken hellhole that Eddie can feel like himself. It was never all bad, but nothing ever is. Eddie knows this, his own life is a mixed bag. He has to take the bad or else lose out on the potential good.

The sun is starting to sink down below the trees when Eddie swings his leg over the seat of his bike to head back to the other side of town. He’s glad. He’s hoping that you’ve decided to accept his dinner invitation. The memories were fun to relive, but his mind is whirring with questions about who you are now. He’d like to hear it. He’d like to tell you about the bands he plays with on the weekends back in Charleston. Last night was nice, but he’d like to spend some time with you while the lights are on. He let his cock carry him away too quickly last night, he hopes he gets a chance to take his time with you tonight. His thighs vibrate from the hum of the engine while he weaves down the streets. He’s half hard remembering the way you smell and the sound of your voice when you get lost with him.

—

“You’d really like her. She’s a natural musician, like her dad. I’m just glad she’s sticking close to home for college. I worry enough even with her living less than a mile away.” You’re rambling on about Maddy while Eddie watches your lips move. He’d had a feeling there was at least one kid back home, he’s dated enough moms to recognize the signs.

“Oh, a girl after my own heart. I already love her.” Eddie’s thumb strokes the back of your hand, his arm reaching across the table. Your plates are empty, and your glasses are drained. Your concern about telling Eddie you have an adult child is forgotten now, and you’re gushing. Just as it should be.

“I’m sorry, I’ll stop talking about Maddy for a while. She’s the sun my life orbits around.” You tip back your martini glass, searching for any last remnants of gin. No luck.

“Yeah, you’re a good mom.” That thumb rubs again. “Of course you are.” Eddie looks around the restaurant and watches as the servers very purposely place chairs on top of tables, inching ever closer to the one where the two of you are seated. “I think we should probably let them shut it down, head back to the motel.”

Head back to the motel. That sounds really good, because Eddie’s wearing a tight black t-shirt that leaves little to the imagination. You can just make out the farmer’s tan that starts at the middle of his biceps. You hadn’t noticed it as much last night, but Eddie’s skin is sunkissed from years of working outdoors. A contract carpenter, he told you, and you could almost smell the sawdust and varnish when he explained about his special word working projects. You want to see them. You want to touch them. You have no doubt that they’re unique and special pieces. Eddie’s always had the ability to pull beauty out of the mundane.

“Will you drive, Eddie? Take me the long way home?” You’re already handing him your keys before he can answer. Of course he will. He’ll do anything you want, it’s always been that way. He’d stop the world if it would make you smile.

“Let’s go, Love. You can rest your head on my shoulder.” And that’s what you do. The walk to the car is slow, but Eddie’s arms need to stay around you. It’s where they belong.

He does take the long way, hooking a right when he pulls out of Enzo’s parking lot and heading for the back roads. One hand sits on your thigh. Your head can’t reach his shoulder in the car, so you lean it back and close your eyes. Linda Ronstadt’s been cheated and mistreated, she’s wondering when will she be loved? Some day, Linda, even if it’s for just a fleeting time. The idea pricks your chest, and you push it down. We won’t think about the end until it gets here.

“Will you be my date for the funeral, Eddie? I might not go if I have to do it alone.” You keep your eyes closed, and he squeezes your leg. He’ll go with you, you already know that.

“Yep. And then we’ll go back to the bar and get shitfaced. Bev will love it. Give the old gal something to be pissed about.” You snort at the thought of Bev trying to wrangle two 40 somethings trying to relive their youthful dalliances. Poor woman. But she would probably love it.

“I like your plan, Ed. Now tell me, did you smoke it all, or do you have some weed back at the motel?” You turn to face him, you want to see that crooked grin of his. “I’ve gotta call Maddy when we get back, but I think it’d be nice to sit outside and get nice and toasty.”

“Yeah, well, I might have a little. Can I ask you something?” Eddie turns the wheel and you’re looking at downtown Hawkins. You nod, but your mouth is dry thinking about the possibilities of what he wants to know that you haven’t already told him. “What kind of an asshole wouldn’t hold on tight to someone like you when you’re so fucking perfect?”

“Christ, Munson. Are you high already?” You pull a cigarette out of the pack sitting on the dash and light it. Just a drag before handing it back over to him. You’re both giggling, it was too much. “Well, you might have been the first to let me go, but you weren’t the last. But look at us now, hm? I think it’s better like this. Makes you realize that the grass isn’t always greener, ya know?”

Eddie blows smoke out of his nose and quietly mutters, “I was blind.”

“Nah. What I told you back then is still true, I’ll take what I can get from you, Baby. Any time, any place. It doesn’t have to be forever.” Eddie bites the inside of his cheek at your words but keeps his response in his mind.

—

Eddie sits in his room rolling joints while you’re on the other side of the wall talking to your daughter. All that talk about the kid, and no mention of the dad. Eddie knows who Maddy’s dad is because word travels fast. He’s never really thought about the guy much, but Eddie’s pretty sure he’s the one responsible for the sadness living behind your smile.

Eddie pulls the comforter off his bed. He’s taking it outside with him to wait for you on the bench that’s at the entrance to the cemetery across the street from the motel. There are no streetlights out here, and the dead won’t mind the company. They never do. The plans he had for this week are fading into one persistent thought - be with you as much as possible before it’s too late. The threat of Sunday coming too fast hangs over every second that ticks past.

It’s harder for Eddie to push those thoughts away than it is for you, because of the regret. He can’t help but feel it, even though he knows that 1984 Eddie is not the same as Eddie today. He’s learned how to spot a good thing, and that’s you. The idea of holding onto you with both hands doesn’t send a lightning bolt of fear through his guts like it did when he was 18. This couldn’t have happened then, whatever this is. It’s a battle in his mind, trying to see through the haze of the memories, how real can it be when everything is shrouded by the past.

The inward battle halts when he sees the door to your room open. He focuses on your form growing larger with each step closer to him. He watches each step of your feet until you’re looming over him, blotting out the weak light from the motel across the street. You have a soft smile on your lips, and he memorizes the way those lips feel on his forehead before you flop down on the bench next to him. He spreads the comforter over your lap, and pulls you into his side.

“This is so romantic, Eddie. You, me, and the sleeping dead.” You sigh and nuzzle your nose into his neck. “You smell nice.” Your lips brush against his skin and the hair stands up in answer.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” Eddie asks as he places a joint between your lips. “I’m hoping to wake up next to you again, but I don’t wanna make any assumptions.” Sparks fly out from his Zippo, and you breathe in the weed smoke before answering.

“Baby, as far as I’m concerned, you could cancel your room for the rest of the week and move into mine. You don’t even need to ask what I want. This is it.” You look up at him and place the joint in his mouth. It’s hard to see his features in the dark, but you think his eyes look a little misty. “Hey now, don’t give me sad eyes, Eddie. We’ve talked about this already. I’ll take what I can get.”

“That’s bullshit.” Eddie’s voice is low and you’re already feeling a little lighter. It’s been a long time since you’ve smoked, and you can feel the cloud starting to creep across your thoughts.

“Oh? Well never mind then. Fuck you, Munson.” Your retort, but there’s no bite. You pluck the joint out of his fingers.

“I just mean, you deserve better than that, and I’m sorry.” Eddie kisses the top of your head, an apology of sorts.

“We all deserve better than we get, Baby. You should know that. It’s easier to accept it than to try and demand what other people can’t give.” You think the words came out right and can’t muster the energy to care if they didn’t.

“Yeah, but it’s still not right.”

Right or not, it’s a truth you accepted a long time ago. It doesn’t stop the pain, but it kills the resentment. What more can you do? Life is hard enough.

—

The light stays on in your room tonight. The weed slows down time. It swallows you and Eddie up, and gives you the space to study each other. The rough calluses on his fingertips travel along the lines of your body, creating a roadmap in his memory. He needs to remember how to find you again, even when you’re a thousand miles away. He needs to taste you on his lips.

The hunger is as strong as the previous night, it’s why your center on Eddie’s face. It’s why your nose leads the way down his torso, inhaling the smell trapped in the dark hair at the base of his cock. He tastes how you remember. Your mouth wraps around him while his tongue and fingers make you sing. He keeps one wide palm planted on the fat of your ass, his rip is hard enough to bruise. He keeps you in the spot until hot tears spill down your cheeks with the intense pleasure of it all. He keeps you there until he spills himself inside your mouth. And you drop, head on his hip, looking at his softening cock in front of you. You lean over and kiss its tip.

Eddie’s giggles are music to your ears. He suddenly needs to see your face, but your legs are still spread in front of him. He slaps your ass, hard enough to sting, but it works. You slowly move your legs over to the side, freeing him so he can crawl down to the end of the bed. He can taste himself on your lips and is surprised to feel his cock jump. You need a little more time than that, Bud.

“I need to tell you something.” Eddie’s arms are wrapped around your sweaty body, and he’s peppering kissing along the bridge of your nose. You release a questioning hum, trying to focus on his words. Sleep is calling to you. “I’m going to the funeral with you tomorrow. I’m going to Jim’s with you to finish the scavenger hunt from hell. I’m spending every fucking second with you until we both leave this shithole. But I don’t want that to be the end.”

“Everything ends, Baby.” You mutter into the skin of his chest. You feel his breath hitch and wonder if there are tears to match the stutter. “But it doesn’t have to end so soon if you don’t want it to.”

“I want to hold onto this, Love. I think we both know this -” Eddie points a finger between the two of you, “- is something special. It always has been. I’ll fucking pick my shit up and move to wherever you are. I won’t even complain about the snow. At least not the first year.”

“I’ll complain enough for the both of us. I always do.” You kiss his chest and look up at him. There are tears, You reach up to rub them off his cheek. You look at the hair at his temple and see the way the gray hair threads through his dark curls. You think it would be something, wouldn’t it? To see the gray overtake the black over the years. And you know Eddie doesn’t say anything to you that he doesn’t mean. It’s not something he’s capable of doing. “For Eddie Munson, my door is always open.”

“What about Maddy’s dad?” Eddie chokes on the words a little, but he gets them out along with a fresh tear that leaks from the corner of his eye. That’s something you’ve always loved about Eddie, he’s never hidden the tears when they show up.

“That’s been over for a while, Ed. I should’ve told you that.” You stroke his cheek and smile. “You’re down bad, old man. Wow, that’s really something, ain’t it?”

Eddie’s laugh rumbles through both of you. The years in front of you don’t look so bleak when you picture Eddie’s arm around your waist. The tears won’t sting so much if you have each other to wipe them away. It’s not too late, you’ve got two feet above ground. You’ve got two hands to hold onto this thing, and Eddie’s hands are holding on just as tight now. The memories and the future swirl together, and you thank god for those years apart. It’s so much sweeter this time around.

You fall asleep with Eddie inside of you. I love yous breathed into your mouths. Eddie’s going to have to replace that seat on his bike if he expects you to ride on it with him. He’s adding it to the mental list he has running. Tell Wayne he’s moving closer. Pack his shit up in a Uhaul. Drive a couple hundred miles. Replace the bike seat. Wrap his arms around you and never let go.

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #eddie munson fanfic #thanatos writes #stranger things smut #wayne munson

240 notes · View notes

paper-mario-wiki · 5 months

Note

Do you do farm stuff Scout? Or would you like to? Like owning chickens or tending an outdoor garden, that sort of thing?

From ages 7 to 19 I lived on farms, and was made to be an active participant in maintenance and usages of the facilities I don't know why the fuck I'm typing it like this, but I grew up on a farm. I was kinda in charge of everything, but slacked a lot and my brother had to cover for me. That said, I still spent a LOT of time doing chores.

At one point or another I've been responsible for most every farm chore you can really think of. All the basics like raking leaves, milking goats, collecting eggs, feeding chickens- but also the big stuff like moving tons of hay, herding flocks, caring for large animals such as llamas, alpacas, horses, and cows, as well as delivering babies, gutting and plucking fowl (only chickens and turkeys, though I've also cared for ducks and geese), dehoring, hoof cleaning, corpse transportation, crop maintenance, winter ice removal by breaking up frozen water troughs in 10 below weather (thought this was usually circumvented by anticipating the cold and setting up water heaters beforehand), constructing enclosures, slaughtering pigs, and etc etc etc etc etc all that shit. Bunnies snakes mini horses donkeys. All that shit. Farm stuff. Ya know.

Moved away when I went to college and immediately plunged into a mixed-zoning district in the Fushimi district in Kyoto. This was a really good transition from rural living to city living, because mixed zoning districts have blocks dedicated to apartment complexes and family homes right next to blocks of rice fields and ponds, which was behind the 7-Eleven I bought most of my food from.

Now I live in a SHITTY mixed zoning area in SHITTY America where we never stop hearing cars because there's a massive parking lot nearby and constant police sirens, not because the area is particularly dangerous, but because there's like 2 police stations nearby.

My ideal housing goal, which also happens to be my current goal in life, is to reach a slightly more rural version of the Kyoto living situation. The goals are very distinct:

0. I'm editing this one in after the fact to note that while I've used Kyoto as an example a few times in this post, I'm just looking for an area that feels right and would happily live in any prefecture that fits my needs.

I want to not be tied directly to a visa which would draw me away from doing whatever work I really want to do, like my student visa did later on when school started getting worse as professors were struggling to learn digital classroom mechanics. The visa I'm shooting for is dependent on a few ideas I have for businesses, but that's still kind of a long shot.

I want to be in a position of relative financial freedom so that I can spend enough time genuinely living there instead of just being tied to a computer all day, limiting me to the world I already know. This one's the big one, so I'm still workin on that. That said, recently I've been taking some pretty massive steps towards making this a more tangible circumstance. Fingers crossed.

I want to have a home that I own instead of renting, and I'd like to work with a Japanese architect to actually construct it. Again, these are big big plans, but I think a life goal is a thing worth thinking big about. And it's not like I'm trying to build a mansion, or even a family-sized house, I think I'd be content with three bedrooms, a kitchen, and common room. Of course, in keeping with the "dream big" spirit, in a world where I've got enough money to have a nicer, slightly bigger home, I can imagine as many as 5 bedrooms. It's nice to imagine in this "perfect" outcome that I've got a reason to have enough space for guests to sleep over. A local community, or an otherwise tangible, real-world web of relationships would be nice. Like, Real Adult Socializing Shit.

I want to have a significant emphasis on self-reliance on this home. As far solarpunk as I can reasonably go, without biting off more than I can chew as someone who's kinda limp-wristed. In a gay way and a feeble way. I figure this will come down to solar panels, water filtration, a well, and a garden (or at least the space to have gardening stuff like pots and soil). Some chickens would be nice too, but I don't know that I'd ever take on livestock proper.

I want to be properly submerged in trees without being more than a 5 minute bike ride from a train station. Somwhere like Yase-Hieizanguchi Station in north Kyoto is a good example of station that's on the edge of a metropolitan area and the forest. There was an apartment there I almost got, but backed out when covid hit cuz I decided moving across town would be a whack decision.

This is a BONUS goal, but I think it'd also be nice to not compromise on a single location, and instead have a home out in the inaka, while also having a small apartment rented in the city I can go between whenever I need to. In a world where I can afford a plot of land out in the country, but would still need to travel into town for business, that would be nice. Though in that scenario I'd likely need to also take on the arduous task of getting a Japanese drivers license. If I know far enough in advance that I want to take this specific route then I could bypass that last one by getting an international license before moving to Japan, but after moving to Japan you're barred from getting an international license.

I couldn't tell you in honesty that I'm a Salt of the Earth, Red Blooded American Farmer in my heart, and in fact I could not WAIT to move away from the farm. I hated that I didn't have a say in living on a farm, and was made to take care of animals. But what I DID enjoy about that life was the stillness. The opportunities of perfect silence. The stars unobstructed by light pollution. The ability to explore. Those things I was incredibly grateful for. And as such, in my perfect world, I would like to live on something like a farm again one day, just on my own terms.

#anon

218 notes · View notes

darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months

Text

All the Good Girls Go To Hell 19

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, obsession, power imbalance, injury, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You come home for the summer but your break is not as relaxing as you expect.

Character: Bucky Barnes, Steve Rogers

Note: Friday!

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you all. Take care. 💖

"Is it berries?" Bucky asks as you cradle your head and the phone.

You shake your head, hunched over your knees, still sat on the cold tarmac. "There aren't any berries here," you sniffle, "just flowers."

"Oh, well, is it a flower?" He continues to guess.

His coolness, his light tone, it makes your own world seem less dire. You hear a car door, a noise that seems to echo speaker rustles. You sigh and tell him no again. He's been trying to guess this whole time and it's starting to get frustrating.

"Alright, game's over, doll. What was it?"

You look up as a shadow strides up the driveway. You get to your knees as Bucky comes closer. You lower the phone as you stare at him dumbly.

"How did you find me?" You blubber.

"You said you were with Naomi... I can track her phone. I bought it. Plus she always ends up with that kid," he shrugs as he offers his hand, "come on, let's get you off the ground."

"Why?" You stare at his thick fingers.

"Why what?"

"Why are you helping me?"

"Doll, let's not get into those feelings right now," he sighs, "please, you can't stay here. I can't leave a sweet thing like you out in the dark all night. Not like she did."

"Alright," you croak and take his hand. He hauls you up easily and lets you lean on him,.

"So, what was it?" He asks.

"What was what?" You murmur.

"The red thing."

"Oh, uh," you swing around and point, nearly toppling as he catches you, "the gnome's hat."

"Huh, never would've guessed," he clucks as he clings to you, "come on, doll, we really should get you out of here."

You let him lead you down the driveway. You feel very week as you let more of your weight lean on him. Your head lolls as your eyes threaten to close on their own. You open them as you approach the car and he opens the door. He sits you down in the seat and bends to get you in straight. His rough palms graze your knees and thighs before he pulls back, putting a hand on the roof.

"You good? Get your belt done up."

You nod and do as he says. He watches, looming over you, moonlight limning his figure.

"Good girl," he growls and his timbre sends a shiver through you, "I want you to stay awake for me, can you do that?"

"Yes, Bucky," you lean your head back and focus through the windshield, vision glazing.

"I know you can, baby," he caresses your shoulder and closes the car door. He gets in the driver's side as you hug yourself and chatter. "Cold?"

You nod and he reaches into the back seat. He pulls forward a grey hoodie and offers it to you. You take it and spread it across your shoulders. It smells like him. It's almost comforting.

"Right," he hits the button and the engine rolls over, "some music will help."

He turns on the stereo and flips to a pop station. You doubt it's his kind of music. He shifts into gear, giving you a long look before he pulls out.

"Doll, why don't you tell me what happened?" Bucky prompts as he keeps a hand on the bottom of the steering wheel, his other on the corner of your seat.

"I..." you sniff and take a deep breath, "I don't want to talk about it."

"Ah," he hums and nods, "did Naomi do something?"

You shrug and look out the window. He exhales as he slows at the stop sign.

"Did she hurt you?" His voice is gravelly.

"Not exactly," you lean into the door and cover your face with your hands, "it's not just what happened at the party... it's-- it's-- my mom. And Steve. And everyone!"

Your babbling. You can feel it but you can't stop it. The alcohol has you under its spell and fuels your distress. You just want to explode.

"Oh, your mother?"

"Yeah," you whine and pulls your hands away from your face, "her and Steve– and I can’t even go home–”

"Your mom and Steve?" He asks.

You snap your mouth shut. You shouldn't have told him that.

"Oh, doll," he coos, "I'm sorry."

His fingers stray down to your shoulder and he rubs it through the fabric of the hoodie. It's soothing despite everything. Gentle. You're tired. So tired. You just want to sleep. You lean back and yawn.

He squeezes your shoulder, "doll, stay awake. Remember what I said," he retracts his hand, "I'll get us home and you can lay down there, alright?"

You nod and peel your eyes open, "okay... thank you, Bucky."

"Anything for you," he says so quietly you barely hear him, "I'm gonna keep you safe."

🏡

The world sways around you. You can hardly lift your head. You open your eyes and see Bucky above you, feel his arms around you. He carries you throughthe shadows of the house.

You shift in his arms and he peeks down. "It's alright, doll, you tried."

You kep your head on his shoulder. You can hear his heartbeat. He's warm, he smells like cedar. You blink, eyelids sticking. He takes you into the guestroom and places you on the foot of the bed.

He makes you sit up, hands on your arms as he holds onto you, bending to look you in the face. You notice the fresh sheets, no longer the crisp white but patterned with dainty pink flowers. He brings a hand under your chin and makes you meet his gaze.

"I'll get you something to wear, doll, and some water," he explains.

You murmur and nod. He lets you go and reluctantly turns away. He stalks off as you lean over your lap, elbows on your thighs as you struggle not to fold.

"Here," he surprises you as he comes in again, "there's a shirt for you."

He hands you a tidy white tee shirt, one of his. You thank him through your sticky mouth. He goes to the night table and puts down the glass of water in his other hand.

"Make sure you drink that before you lay down," he says.

"I will," you whisper.

He goes again as you tug at the dress. You slip free of the tight sheath, tits falling out as you stand in nothing but your panties. You swoop the shirt over you and struggle to poke your head through. You grab the water and gulp it down, feeling it swish into your belly.

You put the glass back and turn to the bed. You teeter and fall onto the mattress, sprawled on your stomach.

You hear a subtle creak. Bucky's footfalls lightly glance over the floor and he sets a bucket next to your bed.

"Just in case," he touches your shoulder, "try not to roll onto your back."

"Got it," you utter sleepily and close your eyes, another yawn escaping you.

He drags his hand away and you feel him tug on your tee shirt, pulling the hem to cover the edge of your panties. He then drapes the blanket over you before retreating with a soft 'good night'. The light turns off and you're left in the dark, quickly succumbing to a drunken stupour.

🏡

You feel like you’re drowning in sludge. The morning blares over you from the window as you emerge from the deep pit of alcohol-laced sleep. You groan and stiffly bend your arm, pressing a palm to your forehead as it pulses. This is why you don’t drink, it’s not worth it.

Confusion comes after the onslaught of agony. You stare at the ceiling, taking in the room little by little. Your mind pieces together how you got there. The party, Naomi grabbing you, kissing you, running out… fractured memories that lead to that very moment.

You push yourself up with aching arms. You didn’t expect to be back here. You don’t know how to do this. After all he’s done, you feel like you owe Bucky. You can at least hear him out. He can’t be as bad as Naomi claims if he’s the only one trying to take care of you.

You get up, stopping to lean on the night table. Your hand trails onto the empty glass and you pick it up. It’s as good an excuse as any.

You go out into the hall, peering up and down. You pad along towards the kitchen, an eeriness follows you knowing that it’s only you and Bucky. You’re not surprised to find him waiting in the kitchen. He always seems to be a step ahead of you.

The smell of coffee draws a rumble from your stomach. You look sheepishly at your host and show the glass, going to the sink to rinse it. As you place it in the rack, he takes down a mug and fills it, sliding it towards you. He’s the first to speak.

“Morning,” he waits, watching you as you hook your fingers through the handle of the cup.

“Morning,” you eke out, too nervous to try the coffee. You inhale and make yourself look at him, “I’m sorry–”

“I should be sorry,” he says, “I shouldn’t have let you go with Naomi. I should’ve told the truth. Way before that. I shouldn’t have gone along with any of it.”

You stare at him. His blue eyes flicker as his cheek dimples, anxiety needling in his forehead. He gestures towards your hand on the cup.

“Please, have your coffee.”

You drag the mug to the edge and lift it. You drink with a long hum. Oh, it feels good. You pull the brim away from your lips and swallow thickly. You clear your throat and peek up at him again.

“So it’s all true?” You ask, hoarsely.

“I don’t know what she told you but…” he hesitates, “I’m not her father.”

“Yeah,” you agree crisply.

“I can show you,” he turns and reaches for his phone, “everything. Right here. This is what she sent me the first time she brought you over.”

He shows you the screen, holding his thumb down to keep the chat from rolling back up. You see Naomi’s name at the top of the chat and the bubbles back and forth. You read the received message by his thumb.

‘Bringing a friend. Please say you’re my dad, don’t wanna freak her out.’

You chew your lip. It doesn't disprove anything she told you. You frown and he starts to flick through the conversation.

“Look, just tell me the truth,” you demand, though your tone is less than intimidating.

He sighs and lowers the phone, “we have an arrangement. I support her and she… supports me. In a way.” He looks down ashamed, “I’m not going to make excuses. I could say I was lonely, newly divorced, stupid. It was convenient–”

“She was vulnerable,” you suggest.

He nods, “that’s true. But I never intended… when she brought you…” He pokes his tongue out and closes his eyes, “I’m trying to just explain but there’s so much. Thing’s fizzled out.

"When she got back from college, she was just angry all the time so I gave her space. I told her that we could end things but I would help her find a place, keep paying her tuition and she could make it up to me later. When she got a job.”

He backs up and leans on the counter. He crosses his arms and raises his head. He looks tired, drawn.

“She brought you over and you’re so nice and it was– is refreshing. To have someone look at you without hate. My ex-wife, she had the same look as Naomi got. I don’t know what I did,” he sniffs, “but I’m sure I deserved it. I guess I’m needy.”

“Alright,” you mutter, unsure what else to say. Two sides of the same story. They line up, to a point.

“I know I can’t ask you to trust me. If I was you, I’d be… I’d be confused, creeped out, everything. I really don’t know what to say or do at this point. I called you over and over thinking I could explain myself out of it but there’s no excuse. And then you answered and you were drunk and crying and I came without thinking. Because I know Naomi, she’s destructive and I thought maybe she got you into trouble.

“And then you mentioned your mom and well, that broke my heart. I really can’t believe that she’d kick you out. Her own child. Even Mimi’s parents weren’t that cruel.”

You blanch and take another swig of coffee, trying to set yourself straight.

“They didn’t? Her parents didn’t kick her out?”

“No,” a stitch forms in his forehead, “no, I guess she stormed out after some argument. They suggested maybe she stay and go to school here but she didn’t like that. She was on Steve’s couch for a while and then ended up here. Wanda got a bit crowded.”

You try to hide your surprise. You put the cup back on the counter and stare into the depths. Naomi lied. Maybe not about everything but she made it seem much more sinister.

“Doll,” Bucky rasps, “you okay? You gonna be sick or something?”

You bat your lashes, fighting back tears. You’re lost. You don’t know who to believe but your best bet is the one who isn’t groping you for her friends or cornering you when you’re alone. Your lip quivers as you search for a response.

“I… I believe you,” you breathe.

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #dark bucky barnes #dark steve rogers #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #all the good girls go to hell #au #marvel #mcu #avengers #captain america #winter soldier

318 notes · View notes

asliceofzosan · 5 months

Text

zoro doesn't care if people forget his birthday. he really doesn't. but when it's his own boyfriend who doesn't acknowledge his birthday at all... that's a whole different thing entirely. (zosan modern au for zoro's birthday!)

Zoro never understood the hype around birthdays.

It's just another year. 19 didn't feel that different to being 18. 21 didn't feel that different to being 20. He's pretty sure it's going to be the same all the way up to his 80's. He understands the importance of milestones and whatnot but other than that, celebrating his birthday was an afterthought.

It's the big 26 today — one year closer to his thirties — but again, it's just an ordinary day. He woke up, showered for once, and headed straight for the kitchen where his boyfriend was already cooking breakfast and dancing to whatever new K-POP song came out. One of the perks of moving in with Sanji was the early morning entertainment Zoro gets everyday.

Zoro leans against the kitchen island, just watching Sanji hum along to words Zoro can't understand. He loves moments like this. He developed a habit of watching Sanji every time he isn't looking. It's his favorite way to start the day. It gets even better when Sanji notices him, his face lighting up brighter than the sun, and throws his arms around Zoro in their daily good morning embrace.

However, this time, Sanji just looks over his shoulder with a shocked expression.

"Oh, you're already awake!" Sanji exclaims and he steps aside from his work station to reveal he was packing up bento boxes. "I wasn't expecting you to wake up until 10 since you're off work today."

"Thought it would be a good day to wake up early," Zoro says slowly, brows furrowed at each passing second that Sanji doesn't give him his morning hug and kiss. Zoro doesn't think he's clingy, he'd murder you if you said so, but they have a routine. And the routine includes morning hugs and kisses until they're both breathless. Why isn't Sanji bounding over to him and showering his face with kisses and squeezing the daylights out of him? Was he in the twilight zone?

Sanji just keeps on arranging the bento boxes carefully, labelling them with post-it notes and his signature sparkly gel pen that Nami gave him as a joke gift. Zoro stays rooted to the spot, patience waning the longer Sanji doesn't kiss him.

"I was called in today to cover some shifts at the Baratie," Sanji starts to say as he maneuvers his way to the fridge. Zoro scowls when Sanji passes him and doesn't even peck him on the cheek. His voice is a little muffled when he places the bento boxes into the fridge, explaining that he might be out the whole day and won't be back until 10PM earliest.

10PM. Earliest.

"I already pre-made your meals for the day. Breakfast is warming up in the oven right now." Eventually, Sanji does end up giving Zoro a little peck on the cheek, but Zoro felt himself subconsciously chasing after the cook's lips as he moves away. Sanji gives him a warm smile. Zoro thinks he's about to have an aneurysm.

"Sorry, I can't eat breakfast with you today." And to his credit, Sanji looks genuinely apologetic. "The Baratie's gonna be packed. You'll be okay by yourself, right?"

Zoro knew that not making a big deal out of his birthday was his own damn fault but this just seems... off. In every way possible.

Because of all the people in the world, how is it that Sanji has forgotten his birthday?

Sanji, the man who marks every major and minor holiday on his google calendar so he has an excuse to cook a big feast for his friends? Sanji, the man who cried his eyes out when he found out Zoro never had a proper birthday party because he understands the feeling of not being celebrated. Sanji, who loves rom-coms, choose-your-own-adventure interactive novels, and thinks that the way food is arranged on the plate can clearly indicate one's emotions.

Sanji, the biggest sap in history, has forgotten his boyfriend's birthday.

"Zoro?" Sanji's voice slices through the fog of confusion slowly filling up his brain. The hand cradling his face forces him back to reality but all he could do was stare longingly at Sanji, begging him with his eyes to not go. Sanji runs his thumb gently over his cheek and Zoro nuzzles into his hand like a stubborn child. Sanji chuckles.

"I'll be back, you big softie." His reassurance doesn't sit well with Zoro but he only manages to nod. Sanji leans down to kiss Zoro, too chaste and too fast, before pulling away far too quickly. Zoro watches miserably as Sanji puts his jacket on, grabs his keys, and bids him goodbye.

Zoro manages to meet him at the entryway, his hand catching Sanji's arm before he leaves. Sanji tilts his head at him, smiling at him in the way he does when Zoro is being stubborn. "What is it, marimo?"

Zoro stares down Sanji with his good eye, willing and pleading him to remember. "Aren't you forgetting something?"

Sanji blinks. Zoro blinks. Then, Sanji smiles and Zoro thinks he actually gets it.

Until Sanji pulls him into a searing kiss. When they pull away, Sanji rubs their noses together and lets go.

"Can't forget the goodbye kiss!" Sanji places one more kiss on Zoro's nose then leaves a very dazed, very irritated Zoro at the entryway.

from: cap'n luffy

zoooorrooooooo happy birthday !!!!!!!!!! zoro zoro zorooooo have a good day ^_^

from: witch of the sea

happy birthday you big lug <3 as my present, your debt is reduced by 10% ;)

from: chopper

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ZORO! I LOVE YOU! DON'T GET SICK TODAY OKAY?!?

from: ussop :^\

BIG 26 ! HBD MY MAN ! you don't look a day over 19 ^_^ honest!! maybe they'll even ID you at the club HAHAHHAHAHAHA

from: robin

Happiest birthday, Zoro. I've deposited birthday booze money into your bank account. Have fun.

from: franky B)

HAVE A SUUUUUPPPEEERR BDAY BRO ! My bday gift isnt ready yet tho i still need to tweek it bUT ! ur gonna love it!! trust !

from: brook

zoro_birthday song_final_real final_absolutely final.mp3

from: jinbe

Have a fruitful birthday today, Zoro. You only turn 26 once!

Time ticks by and Zoro reads and re-reads all the birthday greetings from his friends. Many of them even sent multiple messages in their group chat. It mostly consisted of Luffy and Chopper spamming the chat with birthday gifs. It eased Zoro's racing mind just a little. But he can't help himself from opening up his chat logs with Sanji...

And still nothing.

Just a simple 'hbd marimo' from him would have eased his worries. But Sanji hasn't even messaged him once throughout the entire day. Usually, he'd send a couple of pictures to prove that he's alive. One time, he event sent a selfie while something caught on fire behind him. That's Zoro's wallpaper right now.

It really, really shouldn't be bothering him this much that Sanji hasn't said anything about his birthday. It's also not hard to forget Zoro's birthday. It's literally 11/11. It could not have been a more convenient date.

But Sanji was always the more romantic one of the two of them. Zoro can be accidentally romantic, sure, but Sanji likes grand gestures and showering others with love in every way possible.

Sanji is the last person on earth to forget Zoro's birthday.

He may have never understood the hype around celebrating his birthday. He hasn't had a party since his 18th. But there's something that's mildly irritating that his own boyfriend just straight up treats it like any other day. And not only that, he just leaves Zoro alone too. To celebrate his birthday miserably in their empty apartment with a box of reheated leftovers on his lap.

He doesn't want to admit that he's hurt.

But he is.

However, before he could pick up his phone again to call Sanji and give him a piece of his mind, it starts to ring. He scrambles to answer it without even checking the caller ID. The relief that washes over him when he hears Sanji's voice on the other line was indescribable.

"Cook," and it really shouldn't have come out this desperate. But Zoro is really hanging on by a thread here. "Are you going to tell me something?"

"Yeah! I can't believe I completely forgot!" Sanji's laugh is like a balm to Zoro's anxious conscience but it immediately slips away when Sanji continues.

"I forgot my phone at home."

Zoro almost growls in frustration. "I'm borrowing Patty's right now. Can you do me a favor and look for a recipe that I saved on my notes app? It's super important."

"What could be so much more important than..." Zoro trails off, managing to actually find Sanji's phone on the kitchen counter. Right where he was just this morning. "I fuckin' found it." He taps on the screen, his heart pinching when he sees that Sanji's lockscreen is a candid photo of the two of them taken the exact day they finally got together. Sanji's head was tucked against Zoro's shoulder, his cheeks flushed red, laughing and laughing at something Zoro can't remember anymore. And Zoro... was just looking at Sanji like he was his whole world.

And he still is.

Maybe that's why Sanji forgetting hurts even more.

"What's your passcode?" He grumbles, putting his own phone on speaker.

"I'm surprised you don't know it," Sanji says, footsteps seeming to echo on the other line. "It's pretty hard to forget."

"Contrary to popular opinion, I respect your privacy sometimes Curly."

"How sweet," Sanji says sarcastically. Zoro can practically hear the eyeroll. "But seriously. You know the passcode."

"No I fucking don't?" He exclaims incredulously, glaring at his phone in the hopes Sanji can probably feel it too. "What the fuck are you on about, cook? I don't know your damn passcode!"

"Yes, you do." The fact that Sanji isn't yelling back like he usually does sits uneasily in Zoro's stomach. "Fine, I'll give you a hint since my little marimo needs some help with his homework." Zoro grumbles that he's not a child but Sanji just ignores it. "It's related to the most important person in my life."

Zoro furrows his brows. "Zeff?"

Sanji chuckles. "Try again."

"Um," He scratches his head this time. "Nami?"

"As much as I wish that were true," Sanji sighs dramatically and it was Zoro's turn to roll his eyes. "It's not her. Come on now, mosshead. You know who it is."

The way Sanji's voice softened made something click in Zoro's brain. With a long shaky breath, Zoro took Sanji's phone, stared at the lockscreen one more time, and inputted a significant number.

111197

November 11, 1997

Then Sanji's phone unlocked.

"Did you get it?"

Zoro couldn't concentrate on Sanji's voice. Because staring right at him was the picture Sanji used as his homescreen.

A beautifully edited candid picture of Zoro, his face glowing against a gorgeous sunset, the light shining through his hair in an otherworldly haze. There was text edited above his chest and it read, clear as day:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Can you open the door for me, love?"

As if on autopilot, Zoro walked to the door, Sanji's phone still in his hand, and he opened it to see his boyfriend standing right there. His face was illuminated by the glow of a single candle sitting on top of a simple vanilla cupcake. Surrounding that cupcake was a plate full of carefully arranged sushi, onigiri, grilled meats, and dipping sauces.

And written with an elegant hand at the edge of the plate, with something Zoro can somehow identify as a thickened oyster sauce was the same thing he read on Sanji's home screen wallpaper:

Happy Birthday, my everything

"Did you really think that I would forget?" Sanji says, the love in his eyes shining through the light of the candle. "You guessed the passcode, didn't you?"

"You piece of shit." Zoro's voice cracked only slightly (only slightly!) "I'm gonna fucking murder you, I swear to god."

"You don't believe in god," Sanji says matter of factly, reaching up to cup Zoro's face with one hand. Zoro scoffs but there's no lick of malice to it. Sanji then presents the cupcake to him and with another roll of his eye, Zoro blows the candle out, much to Sanji's amusement.

He knows he's supposed to be making a wish or whatever but he doesn't. Everything he's ever wished for is right here, standing in their doorway, with a plate of food made by his own hands. Hands that he kisses every night. Hands that cradle his face like Zoro is something to be treasured.

Hands that hold his, no matter what life throws at them.

Stepping into the apartment, Sanji places the plate of food on the table at the entryway, then drapes his arms over Zoro's shoulders. Zoro's hands find Sanji's waist immediately.

And finally, Sanji says the words Zoro's been waiting to hear all day.

"Happy Birthday, Zoro."

Then, Sanji kisses him, his lips soft and his hands warm as they tangle into Zoro's hair. Zoro deepens the kiss, thinking that maybe celebrating his birthday isn't so bad after all.

#niki's fics: remember the 11th of november #zosan #one piece #zosan modern au #roronoa zoro #sanji #vinsmoke sanji #one piece fanfiction #happy birthday to our favorite marimo!#roronoa zoro x vinsmoke sanji

301 notes · View notes

simp4pedropascal75 · 8 months

Text

Secretary (Javier Peña x Reader)

summary: You graduated from university with dreams of becoming a DEA agent. One year before your graduation, a class trip took you to Colombia, where you met Javier Peña. The two of you quickly bonded over the six months you spent together, but after you left, he grew distant. When you return as a freshly minted DEA agent, you discover that you have not been hired as a DEA agent, but as a secretary.

words: 5.2k

this ff takes place in the late 1980s! (but you still can chat with him? yeah, doesn't make sense)

trigger warnings: 18+, MINORS DNI, age gap(reader in her 20s, Javier in his late 30s), explict language, mentioning of s3x in public, fluff, violence, smoking, being catcalled and harrased by a man, a little bit of angst (?), spoilers of narcos season 1 (?), one mention of y/n

a/n: sorry for taking a while for writing a new ff, but i thank you for over 500 likes on bad guy and also thank you so much for over 108 followers<3 this really keeps me motivated to write.

I also apologize if I mess up the plot of narcos and don't get everything right like it is in the series. English is not my first language and I'm not finished with the series yet. I just finished season 2 episode 3, and lord have mercy with this sex scene of pedro.

But please don't spoiler me in the comments what happens next in the series, thanks<3

And I guess I'll be making a little series out of this, when my creativity is working, what do you think?

i wish you a fun time reading:)

-------------------♡❀˖⁺. ༶ ⋆˙⊹❀♡--------------------

You are finally getting your mark on your uniform from your teacher. You stand there with a proud smile, looking into the crowd and seeing your parents.

You finally graduated from university to be a DEA agent.

Since you were a kid, your dream was always being a DEA agent, just like your dad. Your dad was stationed in Colombia, that’s why you didn’t see him that much, but when you came visiting him or he came home to Miami, he told you about his stories. He told you how he chased drug traffickers, went on missions and all the other stuff. As a kid, it just amazed you.

That’s why you began to train early for being an DEA agent. Since you were 5, you started solving riddles, like: ‘who stole grandma’s cat?’ and so on. When you got older, you loved solving murder, drug cases or already solved cases from your dad, which you had to solve again.

And it was pretty fun… and to be honest, you were god damn good.

That’s why after you finished high school with 19 years, you went to a DEA university. You were lying, if you're saying it wasn’t pretty hard… sometimes, when you were on your lowest, you even thought about quitting. But even if it was difficult, you didn’t want to throw away your dream, so, you kept going.

One year before your graduation, you went to Colombia with your class. You stayed there 6 months and of course your lessons continued there.

You visited the station where your dad was working and that was also the time where the hunt of Pablo Escobar started. And also, the time… well, where you met Javier Peña.

Every Sunday, you and your class were allowed to go to the station and were shown around, got told some stories and some tips how life works as a DEA agent. It was pretty interesting…

and who really made it interesting was Javi.

You and Javier got pretty close for the whole six months. You got friends… well maybe a little more than that…

Of course, you also met his partner Steve Murphy and you got along also, but just as friends.

You didn’t remember exactly how everything with Javier started, but in the first weeks you were going to the station, you and Javi always talked and you two just got along well. Sometimes he would steal you from the rest of the group to show you some more private folders, because he knew how interested you were in all of this… and also, to make out with you.

But expect of how good he kisses… or fucks.

He was there when you needed him.

Unfortunately, in the last month, your dad got injured when he was on a mission with Javier and Steve. Your dad got shot bad in a shooting and when you got the news, Javi was there to comfort you. Luckily, your dad did survive, but he was left incapable of working ever again.

Also, you didn’t ever know, what you and Javier really are. You know, he slept with a lot of women, mostly to gain information for work, but he also stopped sleeping with other women, for the whole six months when he was with you,

well, that’s what Steve told you.

But he never actually asked you if you would be his girlfriend or something… but neither did you.

One time when he showed your class around, the topic was the balance between work and personal life. He told everyone that he personally doesn’t do ‘relationships’ because of work and he isn’t interested in it, he finds it more exciting to get to know many women. And that’s what probably kept you from asking him because you were scared to get rejected.

Of course, you fell in love with him, but you thought he didn’t.

Also, your dad doesn’t know anything about what you and Javier had… and if he would have found out, he would probably fire Javier. Since his incident he was very protective over you and worried about you getting a DEA agent like him.

But nothing got in your way again, even if you were really not feeling great because Javi and you barley had contact after you left.

You kept going.

And now you're finally standing on the stage, proud with your mark on your uniform and even graduated as the class best.

At the evening you begin packing your suitcase for the flight to Colombia. You planned since the beginning of your studies, to go back to Colombia and work at the same station your dad did. You feel excited of the thought that your dream is finally going true. Also… how will it be meeting Javi again?

You sigh at the thought and suddenly your phone vibrates. You grab it and look on the display.

Javi

‘heard you graduated, congratulations, hermosa.

Your heart skips as he writes you that and you don’t notice how red your cheeks get. He didn’t write you often, nearly never, but when he did, he continued calling you hermosa, cariño,… and all the other names he had for you.

you

thanks, agent. maybe I’ll be your boss soon.

Javi

you wish. your dad told me to pick you up at the airport tomorrow.

You start to get a nervous feeling in your chest, but also can’t help to smile.

you

okay, looking forward for tomorrow then, agent.

Javi

see you tomorrow, cariño.

You throw your phone on your bed and lay down next to it. You can’t keep down your butterflies in your stomach. The thought of seeing him again after one year has you smiling, but also getting you even more nervous.

What should I say when he picks me up?

Should you hug him? What if he kisses me?!

God, I really need to know what to talk about, I hate awkward silence.

You think and start panicking. You groan in frustration into your pillow. You grab after your phone and scroll through your chats with Javi.

Your smile fades as you see your calls he didn’t pick up, how he responded to some messages from you after literally one month. Sometimes he didn’t even respond. You know, he has really much work to do and doesn’t have it easy… but seeing how he barley contacted you, makes you feel disappointed… you really thought he would like you back…

Maybe I have to high expectations, you think.

Maybe he doesn’t care so much about that, but you do. You gave him your trust in so many ways…

And with that thought, you get up with a sigh and look frustrated at your closet. You watch at some of your bikinis. “yeah, I think I’m going to take this one”, you mumble to yourself with a smirk, taking the string bikini in his favourite colour.

…

You walk towards the exit with your two suitcases and back bag. As you step out of the airport, you take in the warm, tropical breezes. You feel the air brushing across your skin and hair. The sun’s rays are warm and comforting as they peek through the clouds. You take a deep breath and close your eyes, taking a moment for yourself that you’re finally reaching your dream.

“bienvenido a casa, hermosa.”, you hear a very familiar voice saying and you wince.

“goddammit- you scared the shit out of me”, you say out of breath and then take a moment to look at him. He’s leaned against the car, with a cigarette between his fingers. Your feelings are going insane again. He’s still the same, just like when you left. But… he got a little more muscular.

“really? that’s how you act when we see each other after this long time?”, he chuckles and raises an eyebrow.

“shut up”, you mumble as you roll your eyes and walk towards him. You don’t think about it and just wrap your hands around his neck and pull him into a hug. You hug him tightly and you don’t know why, but your eyes start to get wet. Smelling his scent again of cigarettes, leather and musk… it’s addicting.

As you feel how he pulls you closer by wrapping his hands around your waist, your heart skips.

“missed me?”, he whispers and you sense his smirk. “maybe.”, you answer and even if you don’t want to, you end the hug and go some steps back to take your suitcases.

As you feel a wet drop rolling down your cheek, you immediately wipe the tear away and pull yourself together to give him a happy smile. “would you mind helping me with these?”, you point out your baggage.

Javi chuckles as he takes the last drag out of his cigarette until he throws it away and takes two of your suitcases, putting it into the trunk. “god woman-, how many clothes have you in these?”, he gasps and closes it.

“‘need something to dress, you know”, you chuckle and roll your eyes while going into the car. You expected him to say something like: “around me you won’t have to wear many clothes”, but… obviously he holds himself back.

You take a seat next to him and he starts the engine, drinking away from the parking lot. You roll down the window to let the warm breeze of Colombia fly against you. As you were driving through the city, you couldn’t help but just stare out of the window. “feels good to be here again”, you mumble and notice how much you missed this.

You expected him to say something like: “feels good to have you near me again”, but no… nothing.

After a while you finally hear his voice again. “class’s best huh?”, he chuckles and you roll your eyes. “yeah. my dad told you?, you ask and see him nod. “yeah”

“How’s the situation with Pablo? I watched the news, but they don’t tell much and you never know if they’re telling real shit.”, you ask while looking at all the buildings. You see kids play soccer outside and smile. “He’s a fucking pain in the ass, that’s what I can tell you”, Javier mumbles while concentrating on the road.

“You know, we’ll be working together now, you can tell me?”, you point out and raise your eyebrows.

“Let me say, the situation got worse. It’s true that he killed all these people by blowing up an airplane”, he answers and you gulp when you hear that. “There’s a fuckin’ war right in Colombia.”, he adds.

You see that he’s tense because of this topic. As you take a closer look at his face, you also notice he didn’t get proper sleep for like a whole month. “And… you’re fine?”, you mumble concerned.

“I’m fine, hermosa. Nothing to worry about.”, he answers and drives in the streets of Medellin. You remember now where you are. You see the streets you and your class walked down. You also remember that you will soon drive past an ice cream truck… and memories pop up in your mind.

…

Javier kidnapped you from a trip with your class through the streets of Medellin, again. You were walking down the road, he was right behind you and constantly staring at your ass, because you wore a shorts.

How couldn’t you? It was like 40 degrees in the middle of the day.

A heat wave was surrounding you and the sun was shining right into your face. “you’re not very unobtrusive when it comes to staring, you know.”, you smirk and take a quick look behind you.

“maybe I don’t want to be unobtrusive…”, he says while taking a drag from his cigarette. You roll your eyes at him. You just continue walking and hear a chuckle behind you as you rolled your eyes.

As you keep walking, you spot an ice cream truck. “You know, I really need to cool down now.”, you say and with that you just cross the street, walking towards the ice cream truck. “ice cream, really?”, you hear Javi saying behind you. “You want one too?”, you ask but he shakes his head to no in response.

“Hola señor, me gustaría una cucharada de vainilla y fresa en la oblea, por favor.”, you order in Spanish. You smile proud as the man in the truck understands you and gives you a smile. “Impressing.”, you hear Javier whispering right behind you what makes you laugh. Your Spanish wasn’t actually that bad, when you came to Colombia as a kid to visit your dad, you heard this language all around you. And in school you also had some Spanish lessons.

The man hands you over the ice cream and you hand him the money instead. “Gracias”, you say with a kind smile and then go on the crosswalk again. You and Peña walked to a shady spot, to give you two a break from the burning sun.

You start licking your ice cream from the bottom to the top. And, he was watching you.

He sees how you take long stripes of the ice cream, sometimes licking just the tip. Because of the hot Colombian sun, the ice cream begins to melt quickly.

Drops of ice cream land on your hot, light sweated neck, your thighs and your chin. Then, also on your tank top. “Fuck…,” you mumble and don’t notice how hard you’re making it for Javier. You take your finger, wipe the ice cream away and lick it off your finger.

“goddammit, y/n.”, you hear him cuss quietly, you look at him and notice the bulge on his jeans. “Ops.”, you say innocently and chuckle. You just continue licking your ice cream while looking directly into his eyes. You love teasing him… and always know where it leads you too.

It doesn’t take long to Javier grab your arm and drag you into a small alley. You let your ice cream fall, because of him. “Javi! My ice cream!”, you say literally heart broken like a kid and pout.

Suddenly you feel his tongue licking up the ice cream, which landed on your neck. “Javi, what are you-“, he cuts you off by smashing his lips onto yours. His tongue slips into your mouth, tasting the flavour of your ice cream.

Some minutes later, you find yourself being fucked from behind and pressed against the cold wall.

…

You don’t notice you’re pressing your tights together, but he does. “How about we get some ice cream? I really want to have ice cream now”, you ask with a slight smile on your face. You wanted to see if he remembered, if his body still responses to the memories of you.

And… it does.

He hesitates and wants to disagree. “Please...”, you beg and you know one thing, he can’t resist your begging… well, not for a long time.

You hear him let out a loud sigh, before whispering a quiet: “okay”.

Yup, still works, you think.

He pulls over and parks right next to the ice cream truck. And it’s really the same as one year ago.

You get out of the car and order yourself an ice cream, you feel him looking at you while you’re waiting. After you finally got your ice cream, you come back in the car and buckle up. You took the same flavours as last time. You take a long stripe of the ice cream and let out a soft satisfying moan.

God, how you missed this.

You hear Javier starting the engine quite impulsive and you can’t help but chuckle.

“So, where we’re going?”, you ask while licking your ice cream. “I’ll let you out at your dads old apartment. You can get yourself comfortable there and unpack your suitcases until I pick you up to drive to the station.”, he says tense but focussed on the road. You let out a cute short “okay” and just continued looking out of the window.

After thirty minutes, you arrive at the building where your dad’s old apartment was. You get out of the car and Javier opens the trunk, taking out your suitcases. As you wanted to take the suitcases, Javier has them already in his grip and getting them up the stairs.

“such a gentleman”, you tease and he opens the door of your building. “just get your ass up these stairs”, he says while rolling his eyes and you laugh.

As you two walked up some stairs, you finally arrived at your apartment. He gets out the keys your dad left for you and locks up the door. You walk through the door and immediately look around while Javier is getting your baggage inside. “It’s cute”, you say and walk to the front door, where he’s standing.

“There you go, cariño.”, he hands you over the keys, “‘gonna pick you up at 4, okay?”, you nod in response. “Thanks”, you say to him with a smile before he closes the door and you see him driving away.

You sigh and everything still feels pretty unrealistic. You go on your small balcony, feeling the hot sun burning in your skin. “I’m back, Colombia.”

You started unpacking your suitcase and made yourself comfortable. You took a shower, put a little make up on to cover the rings under your eyes and got yourself a dress. You’re wearing a white tank top with a shorts, since it’s still very hot outside. “I really need to go grocery shopping...”, you mumble when you’re looking in the empty fridge. You grab an apple out your bag pack and take a bite.

You look at the clock and it’s already 4 o’clock. You grab your cardigan, in case it gets colder in the evening and walk down the stairs, going out on the street and looking around for Javier. It doesn’t take long until you see a black Jeep Cherokee driving down the street.

Yeah, that’s him.

He pulls over and is leaned out of the window with a cigarette in his fingers. He’s wearing the same as in the morning, but now with yellow toned sunglasses.

God, he looks fucking hot.

“Ready?”, he asks while taking a drag of his cigarette. “always”, you reply with a smirk and get in the car. As he starts driving, you feel the excitement building up in you. The thought of you finally working and getting your place in a DEA station, makes your heart jump from happinesses. You worked your whole life for this.

You don’t live far away from the station and as Javier was parking, you saw Steve waiting outside. A big smile comes across your face. You two get out of the car and we’re walking towards the entrance.

“Hello, newbie”, Steve chuckles as he pulls you into a hug. “Shut up”, you roll your eyes and hug him back. “good to see you again”, he says as he lets go of you and you give him a smile. “good to see you too”, you reply and suddenly the door opens and Colonel Carrillo comes out.

You’ve seen him not often, just sometimes when your dad talked with him. “Buenos días, señorita Álvarez”, he says and offers his hand for a handshake. You give him a smile. “Colonel Carrillo.”, you nod and shake his hand, as Javi and Steve greet him too. ”also congratulations for graduating”, he says kind but with a stern face. “Follow me”, he says and walks into the station with you three following.

You squeak quietly because of excitement and your heart beats out of your chest. You walk through the hallway, and already seeing the office of the DEA agent, but instead of walking further, Carrillo opens the door to the secretary’s office.

“There you go”, he says and you just stand there confused. But not only you’re confused, you also feel Javier and Steve’s confusing look. “Um… that’s the secretary’s office”, you mumble and Carrillo nods. “Yeah.”, he says confidently. “I’m a DEA agent, sir.”, you point out, still completely confused.

“Oh, your father didn’t told you yet?”, you shake your head to no. “Your dad wanted you to watch first, to get some feeling for the job before working completely as a DEA agent. Also, the case with Pablo Escobar is kind of heavy.”, Carrillo continues explaining and you can’t believe what you’re hearing.

“What.”, you gasp slightly and feeling complete anger flowing through your whole body.

“‘being your boss soon’, huh?”, you hear Javi quoting your message with a chuckle. You find that anything but funny. “Shut the fuck up.”, you growl to him, and then force a smile to Carrillo.

“If you would excuse me for a minute, sir.”, you mumble tensely and get out of the office, walking out of the station and calling your dad. Murphy and Peña follow you outside, watching you walk up and down while holding your cellphone to your ear.

“poor girl.”, Steve sighs while leaning against the wall. “guess daddy is pretty scared for her”, he adds and Javi sighs while lighting up a cigarette, handing the lighter to Steve. “I mean, she isn’t bad… I think she would be a good help for us.”, Javi says while taking a drag of his cigarette while they watch you literally yell into your cellphone.

“Dad what the actual fuck?! You know how hard I worked for becoming an agent, and now you’re hiring me as the fucking secretary?”, you yell upset. “You’re not even working as the Colonel with Carrillo anymore, how can you still decide something like that!?”

“I wouldn’t want to get into an argument with her, that’s clear..”, Steve mumbles as he’s taking a drag of his cigarette too and looks over to Javi, who’s just watching you.

“You’re planning to fuck with her again?”, he asks and laughs slightly. “Shut up, Murphy”, Javi mumbles. “No I mean seriously… I know you like her, man”, Steve says while you’re still yelling into your phone, shortly before throwing it on the street.

“‘dunno… I didn’t reply to her calls, or texts often after she left…”, Javi sighs.

“Wow.”, Steve gasps as he finishes smoking. “You really are an asshole”, Steve points out and claps on his shoulder.

“but seriously, she likes you, Peña. Make it up to her ”, he says seriously while you’re on the edge to destroy your phone. “You really need a woman in your life, man”.

“Dad, I’m fucking 26! I can take care of myself”, they hear and see you scream.

Javi starts thinking about Steve words and finishes his cigarette too.

“she’s not gonna throw her phone, is she?”, Steve asks while raising his eyebrows as he keeps watching you how literally go rage. “If you think that, you don’t know her enough”, Javi just answers and one second later, you hang up and throw your cellphone directly throw it on the ground.

Steve just stays there in shock. “Told you”, Javi chuckles. As Steve sees how you walk towards them, he immediately makes his way into the station again. “‘need to do some paperwork”, he excuses and Javi rolls his eyes at him.

You take a deep breath and walk to Javi. “Well unfortunately my dad thinks I’m incapable of taking care and defending myself, even if I trained my whole fucking life for this.”, you complain and run your hand through your hair.

“'guess being class best and graduating after such a long time, isn’t enough.”, you sigh and try to calm down. Javi just keeps looking at you.

“I’ll talk to him”, he suddenly says and you look at him. “what? with my dad? that won’t help”, you scoff. “No, I mean with Colonel Carrillo. "I have a good rapport with him.”, he tells you and puts his hand into his pockets.

“If it doesn’t help, you can come over to us in secret, going through some folders and stuff”, he suggests and you nod slowly. “yeah…”, you just sigh. “thanks.. “, you add, turn around and take your phone with a pretty broken display from the ground.

“Would you mind driving me to the grocery store? I don’t have my car yet”, you ask after some minutes of silence. He takes a look at his watch. “Well, I have thirty minutes until my shift begins, if you do it quick, then I can drive y-”, he replies while still leaning against the wall. “good, thanks.”, you cut him off and make your way to his car.

…

You're leaned on the card and walk through the market. Your cart is already half full and you’re soon finished. Javi was walking behind you and the whole time his eyes were fixed on your ass, you could feel it.

And that’s why you couldn’t stop smirking. “Stop smirking so much, you’ll get wrinkles”, he chuckles and you make your way towards the checkout. “says the man who’s soon in his 40s”, you tease him back and he laughs.

How much you love his laugh…

When you walk to his car with him carrying your two full grocery bags, he takes a look at his watch again and you hear him cuss in Spanish. “I’m already ten minutes late..”, Javier hisses.

“Oh, I’ll walk the rest. My apartment is not far from here and I have to get my cellphone repaired anyway.”, you say, wanting to take the bags from his hands. “I won’t let you walk home alone on these streets, especially if it’s getting dark.”, he says serious, not handing you over the bags. “I can defend myself, it’s fine. Go to work”, you mumble more seriously and grab your bags, ripping them out of his grip.

“When something happens to you-“, you cut him off. “Go to work”, you shout and make your way on the other side of the street.

You hear him cuss in Spanish behind you and just chuckle. You changed in many ways after one year, but one thing always stayed the same.

Your obstinacy, confidence and trust in your skills.

“maybe if you hadn’t been busy with staring at my ass, you would’ve checked the time earlier.”, you shout with a cheeky smile to him as he goes into his car. You chuckle and hear him drive away.

You know when the whole case about Pablo Escobar wasn’t so serious, you know he would’ve driven you home, but unfortunately it was.

It was getting dark and you made your way to a electronic shop. After you talked with the man behind the counter, he told you, you can pick up your phone tomorrow.

When you got out of the store, it was dark outside and got kinda cold. You wanted to put on your cardigan, but notice that you forgot it in Javier’s car. “fuck..”, you mumble and continue walking with your grocery bags.

A group of men were walking next to you on the other side of the street, beginning to catcall you. You start to feel uncomfortable and walk a little quicker, ignoring them. They were continuing catcalling you, and being a woman, alone on a street while it’s fucking dark, is kind of scary.

But that’s life as a woman, I guess…, you think

But you pull yourself together and remind yourself of your confidence, knowing you would knock the fuck out of them. You were five minutes away from your apartment, but suddenly one of the men decided to switch sidewalks and walk to you.

“Buenas noches, hermosa. ¿Buscas alojamiento?”, he asks while walking next to you.

Someone else calling you hermosa, who’s not Javier, gives you the shivers.

Your Spanish wasn’t perfect, but you think he asked you if you have a place to sleep tonight or something.

You continued ignoring him, and he continues speaking to you, but now you didn’t understand shit… and to be honest, you didn’t want to understand it.

You could sense and smell he’s drunk. “Vete a la mierda”, you tell him to fuck off.

Suddenly he grabs your arm, and that was it. You let fall your grocery bags, grab his hand and kick him right into his balls. He couldn’t react fast enough because of the alcohol, so you also kicked him with your knee right into his face.

You hear a car coming nearer, but ignore it. As the guy lies on the ground, you punch him right in his face. You hear his mates being shocked. “You want too? Come here then!”, you shout challenging, but they didn’t thought twice and ran away.

You just scoff as you see them walking away and bending down to grab to pick up your groceries.

Suddenly, you feel a hand on your back. “Cariño, are you o-“, before your brain can process and recognise that it’s Javier’s voice, you punch him directly into his face. You hear him groan in pain and as you look up, you see his car. “Omg- I’m so sorry-“, you panic and take his hand into your face, looking at his bleeding nose. You take out a tissue of your shorts and hold it against his nose.

“I thought it was someone of these men-“, he cuts you off and takes the tissue himself. “You got a hell of a punch, you know that”, he says while holding the tissue at his nose.

A part of your brain starts thinking, he deserves it. For ignoring you for so long. You start to form s slight smirk on your lips, but then throw the thought away.

“What a secretary I am, huh?”, you chuckle and pick up your groceries. He stuffed the tissue into his nose and then helps you, getting all your groceries together and then lifting up your grocery bags.

“Don’t you have to work?”, you ask him confused because it was just 20 minutes ago when he left. “‘told Carrillo I forgot a folder at home, I can’t let a beautiful woman like you, walk home alone.”, he says while going to his car. “but I have to say, you handled the situation pretty well, he’s completely knocked out.”, he smirks and gets the grocery bags in his car.

As he called you beautiful, you blush slightly and take a seat in his car. “‘didn’t train for nothing, you know”, you giggle while he starts the engine and drives you home.

As you arrive after literally 2 minutes, you take your cardigan and get out of the car. “thank you for still looking for me”, you mumble and put the cardigan on.

“no problem… but I kind of deserved this punch, didn’t I?”, he sighs while you take your grocery bags.

Now you can’t hide your dirty smirk anymore.

“Yeah, you kind of did”, you answer and close his car door.

“‘wish you a good shift then, be careful”, you give him a smile and then walk to the building, getting out your keys. “see you tomorrow, hermosa”, he calls after you and as you walk through the door, you hear him drive off.

...

The next morning you finally got your car and could drive alone. Even if you enjoyed Javier’s as your driver. You get to the DEA station and walk to your office…

You see a sign with your name on your desk, and under it is written: secretary.

Yup, still hate that, you think and let out a loud sigh.

You take a seat on your chair and lean back. After a while some woman comes in and gives you some paperwork, and also a folder that you can catch up with everything. Even if the thought, that you normally could work in the DEA office to take down some of Pablo’s guys, makes you angry, you need to live with it for a while now. And then, you get started…

After some hours you hear a knock on your door. “Come in”, you say loud and as you look up who it is, you roll your eyes. “Agent Peña”, you call him while having the folder in the hand.

“‘The previous secretary was fired because being caught flirting, kissing and sleeping with one of the agents’”, you read out loud and then look up at him. “And who might that be huh?”, you ask serious while raising an eyebrow at him, knowing exactly who it probably was.

“Even if you won’t believe me now, it wasn’t me”, he answers and places a coffee on your desk. You raise your eyebrows at him. And he was right, you didn’t believe him.

But, why should you care? You’re not together or anything… but the thought of him fucking another women, makes you jealous… and kinda sad.

“you’re fucking all your secretaries now, Agent Peña?”, you ask cheeky while being leaned back in your chair. He just chuckles while shaking his head and places his hands on your desk, leaning against it.

“No, just you.”, he answers and you choke on your coffee because you took a sip.

“We’re definitely not fucking and I’m not your secretary.”, you say serious to make a point.

He takes a cigarette from his ear into his fingers and puts it between his lips, while making his way out of your office.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that in some weeks.”

244 notes · View notes

brbsoulnomming · 6 months

Text

Tell Me Sweet Little Lies Part 26

-----

"You boys all right?" Hopper calls, after the sound of Chief Powell reading Jason his rights has started to fade.

"Can't complain about the rescue," Eddie calls back.

"Doing a lot better than we'd be without you," Steve agrees.

"All right, just hang tight until I get confirmation that Carver's all settled in the cruiser and on his way to the station," Hopper says.

And Eddie sees the merit in that, really, he does, but Steve had dodged directly answering the question of if he was all right the same as Eddie had, and Eddie needs to see him.

He creeps off in the direction that he'd heard Steve's voice come from, sticking to the growing shadows, until he damn near collides with Steve - who must have had the same idea.

"Eddie," Steve breathes out, grabbing the front of Eddie's shirt and hauling him in for a kiss.

Eddie wraps his arms around him, holding him as close as he can as he kisses him back, every last bit of the terror he'd felt in the last however long coming out in sheer desperation.

"Eddie," Steve murmurs against his lips, his voice a little frantic like he needs to say it but doesn't want to stop kissing him. "Eddie, baby, are you hurt?"

"No," Eddie says, muffled by the fact that he can't stop kissing him, either. "No, I'm okay. Are you?"

Steve doesn't answer right away, kissing him again and again, and Eddie cups the line of his jaw, cradles it in his hand for a moment before he pushes his fingers into Steve's hair, checking for any tender spots.

"Hold up for a minute, let me look," Eddie insists, but he doesn't pull away when Steve stubbornly keeps kissing him.

"Stevie," he whispers, the sound stolen up by Steve's ragged inhale.

"I'm kind of trying not to freak out," Steve admits.

Eddie registers the press of something cold and hard against his chest where Steve's still holding his shirt, the clink of metal when he shifts, and he remembers the handcuffs.

"Fuck," Eddie curses. "What can I do?"

"You're okay, right? He didn't hurt you?"

For a moment, Eddie thinks Steve might be deflecting, but the look on Steve's face tells him no, he's answering Eddie's question just fine - that's what Eddie can do to reassure him.

"He didn't hurt me," Eddie says. "He pushed me a couple of times, and one made me lose my balance, but no damage."

"Let me see-" Steve starts, but Eddie shakes his head.

"Uh-uh. You let me see first, then you can look," he insists.

A tiny smile tugs at the corner of Steve's lips. "I take care of you, you take care of me?"

"Bingo. So no trying to get fresh with me again until I've had a good look, all right handsome?" Eddie teases.

This time, Steve lets him cup his jaw again, peering closely at his face. It's getting dark enough that Eddie can't tell exactly, but nothing looks broken. He's pretty sure he's going to have some bruising, though.

"Okay," Eddie says once he's satisfied - or as satisfied as he's going to get until they're home. "Your turn."

Steve lifts Eddie's shirt up without any preamble, peering at his stomach and chest and running his fingers over his skin. His touch brushes over some of Eddie's soulmate ink, and - oh, fuck, if last time was Steve's hands in his hair and hot water washing away a week's worth of grime, this is molten heat running down his spine, the taste of Steve's tongue in his mouth, the feel of his breath on the back of his neck. Eddie shudders, lips parted in a soft gasp.

"Eddie?" Steve asks.

"Soulmate words," Eddie says.

"Oh," Steve says absently. Then, "Oh."

"Yeah. Fuck, we're doing that again once we're home," Eddie says fervently.

Steve's looking at him again, all warm and happy like he's just had the best experience of his life.

"What?" Eddie asks.

"You said home," Steve replies softly, gently tugging Eddie's shirt down and leaning in to kiss him again.

Oh.

"It is," Eddie says. "With you and Robin, it is."

Steve closes his eyes, forehead pressing against Eddie's. They stay like that, tucked in close to each other, until Hopper's voice calls out and tells them it's safe to come out.

Hopper's got a flashlight on him, and he looks them both over when they emerge, the corners of his mouth dropping down lower and lower when he looks at Steve's face and wrists.

"Hey Chief?" Hopper says into the police issue radio he's got hooked on his belt, as they walk back towards Forest Hills.

"Yeah Hop?" Chief Powell asks.

"Get the handcuff master key out and ready for when we get to the station," Hopper tells him. "And you might want to add unlawful restraint to that list of charges."

Eddie blanches. "Who says we want to go to the station?" he grumbles.

"We can't do it tomorrow?" Steve asks.

"You'll be glad you got it over with," Hopper points out.

Which is probably true, but Eddie isn't going to give him the satisfaction of saying it.

"Got it," Chief Powell's voice comes back over the radio. "Which one of them is it?"

Hopper shoots him and Steve a little look. "Better get ready to hear from Lillian Harrington."

"Ah, shit," Chief Powell mutters. "All right, see you soon."

There's no police cars when they get back to the trailer - just Steve's BMW, still parked out front next to the abandoned boxes of Eddie's things.

"Can you help get those in the trunk?" Steve asks.

Eddie wants to point out that they don't feel all that important right now, but Hopper's already crouching down to pick two of them up, and Steve's awkwardly fishing his keys out of his jeans pocket. And it's - yeah, okay, if they went through all of this on a mission to get Eddie some of his life back, he doesn't want to come back empty handed, either. He picks up the last box, tucking it inside the trunk.

"Found this, too," Hopper comments, setting Steve's bat next to them.

Just the sight of it makes some of the tension leak out from Steve's shoulders.

"Get in," Hopper says. "I'll drive you to the station."

"It's my car!" Steve protests. "I've driven with way worse!"

"That's exactly why you're not driving now," Hopper says.

"That doesn't make any sense," Steve mutters.

"Stevie, if he isn't driving, I am," Eddie tells him. "You want me driving your car in my current state?"

"I know you've done it before, kid," Hopper adds, his voice gentler this time. "You shouldn't have had to then, and you don't have to now."

Steve looks away for a moment. Then he nods, clambering into the backseat of the car. Eddie joins him, sitting as close to him as he dares. Once they're in route - Eddie risks slipping his hand over, palm up. An offering, just in case.

Steve grabs it immediately, lacing their fingers together and holding on tight.

"How come the cops are so scared of your mom?" he asks Steve in a low voice.

There's a little laugh. "My mom's a lawyer. She's mostly a corporate lawyer now, but she was a criminal defense attorney for a while, and she'll still take some cases. She's going to be all over this."

Hopper gives a soft snort of amusement. "She's going to threaten to sue everyone from Powell to the mayor if Carver doesn't get charged the way she wants him to."

"She's a good lawyer," Steve agrees, grinning a little.

Hopper's eyes flick down in the rear view mirror, and Eddie knows he can see him and Steve holding hands. For a moment, his heart jumps into his throat - but Hopper doesn't say anything, just slips his gaze back to the road.

Flo's waiting for them with a set of keys and three steaming mugs of hot chocolate when they get to the station.

Eddie takes the keys before Hopper can, hurriedly unlocking the cuffs from Steve's wrists. Steve sags a little when they're gone, leaning into him for a moment before straightening up to accept his mug of cocoa.

"You can wait in the break room," Flo tells them. "The phone's free if you want to call your mom."

She ushers them in and closes the door.

Steve and Eddie take the threadbare couch, squished together, while Hopper plops down on a folding chair.

The phone's on a table by the couch, and Steve puts it on speaker after he dials.

"Wolfram, Hart, & Harrington, this is Lacey Shepherd speaking."

"Hi Lacey," Steve greets. "Can you connect me to Mrs. Harrington? This is Steven, one of her clients. I'm calling from a police station."

"One moment, please," Lacey says, before some truly terrible music drifts through the phone.

"One of her clients?" Eddie repeats.

Steve gives a little shrug. "She's working. She'll answer for a client."

But not for her son?

Eddie doesn't know why he's surprised, considering everything, but getting hit in the face with it like that is still a bit of a shock.

Fuck, he's going to hug Steve so hard after all of this.

Granted, he was going to do that anyway, because Eddie really wants a hug after this, but still.

The hold music stops.

"Steven?" Mrs. Harrington asks.

"Hi, Mom," Steve says.

"Steven." There's comprehension in her voice now. "What happened?"

"Jason Carver," Steve says. "He ambushed me with a gun when I was walking back to my car, threatened to kill me and my soulmate."

"Just threatened?" There's a sharp alertness in her voice now, and Eddie can hear the scratching of writing.

"He handcuffed me to a railing, took my soulmate out into the woods and shoved them around. Punched me in the face a few times."

"Punched you in the face," she repeats.

"In his defense, I was choking him with the handcuffs he made me put on," Steve adds.

"Steven Everett Harrington," she hisses. "I know you didn't just say that in a room full of cops."

"It's just Hopper," Steve says.

"No cops here now, Lillian," Hopper says.

She sniffs. "Once a cop, always a cop, Jim. You don't talk to cops."

If he wasn't for everything else he knew, Eddie might actually like her.

"What did the Carver boy say to you?" she asks.

"Uh - that he was trying to get justice and remove the curse from Hawkins. He said he believed we could do it. He was upset about Chrissy, and wanted to make us suffer. Something about planning to send people to Hell."

All technically true, and Eddie sure as shit isn't going to volunteer anything that puts Jason Carver in a better light.

"I knew that boy was unstable," she mutters. "The whole police force was wrapped up in looking for some insignificant gutter trash, and they're letting the real threats go around right under their noses."

Right, shit, so much for liking her.

Eddie slouches down, until he sees the anger in Steve's eyes. As nice as it would be to let him say whatever he's going to - Eddie puts a hand on his arm, shaking his head.

"You tell Chief Powell to call me after you're done giving your statement," she says. "If I don't hear from him in less than an hour, he won't like the outcome."

"Yes, Mom," Steve says.

The dial tone rings out in response.

"I don't want her to talk like that about you," Steve says immediately.

"I appreciate it," Eddie says, reaching out to gently brush his fingers against the bruise appearing on Steve's cheek. "But you've taken enough hits for me tonight. You can save swinging at your mom for later."

It wasn't until he said it that he recognizes the feeling in the pit of his stomach. He knows Steve doesn't agree, knows he's made it very clear otherwise, but - part of him can't help but feel like this is his fault, like Steve wouldn't have had to go through tonight if Eddie wasn't his soulmate.

He doesn't say anything, but Steve narrows his eyes anyway.

"You're my soulmate," Steve says. "I don't regret it."

Hopper clears his throat, and Eddie jumps, his hand dropping away.

Fuck, he can't believe he almost forgot he was there.

"Hop," Steve says.

Hopper shakes his head. "He's your soulmate, right? Whatever that means, you got nothing to fear from me."

There's a beat of silence, then, "At least it's better than Mike Wheeler, anyway."

Eddie barks out a startled laugh, clamping one hand over his mouth.

"Yeah, yeah, laugh it up," Hopper grumbles. "I'm sending the little shit to you when he gets on my nerves."

It's not long before Chief Powell comes to take their statements. They give him the same spiel that they gave Steve's mom, with a little more detail about how Jason was trying to make Eddie confess.

Chief Powell sighs. "Boy's not saying much in there. I think he finally gets how much trouble he's in. I better go give Judge Ellison a call, then get Lillian on the phone."

He scrubs a hand over his face, then looks at Hopper. "You sure you don't want your job back?"

"Nah," Hopper replies with a grin. "It's all yours."

Steve doesn't put up a protest when Hopper gets into the driver's seat of the Bimmer this time. He just reaches one hand out, and Eddie takes it, giving it a soft squeeze.

"The whole motley crew's probably at your place by now," Hopper warns them as he drives. "Your girl called a code red. The only reason we didn't have the rest of those numbskulls showing up at Forest Hills in a panic is because she'd already called 911, and the police were on their way as soon as they heard Jason Carver and gun. Joyce took the kids and Argyle over to wait with Robin, so I'm sure the rest of them are there too."

Sure enough, the Wheelers' station wagon, Argyle's van, the Byers' car, and his uncle's truck are all parked outside when they get there.

Part of him thinks so much for getting to kiss Steve senseless, but the bigger part is touched that they're all here like this. He sneaks a glance over at Steve, sees a slightly stunned smile, and gives his hand another squeeze.

Hopper walks in first, mostly so he can fend off the immediate rush at the door.

Robin's the only one that gets past him, flinging herself at both of them and hugging them.

"I'm okay, Robs, we're okay," Steve whispers into her hair.

She hugs them tighter.

Then she steps back. His uncle is in her place immediately, folding Eddie up in his arms - and then hauling Steve in to hug him, too.

"I'm okay, we're okay," Eddie says.

Finally, his uncle lets go, too, letting the crowd get a better look at them.

"What happened?" Dustin demands. "Robin said Jason locked Steve up and dragged Eddie off somewhere!"

"Handcuffed," Steve says. "But I got free."

"Handcuffed?" Erica repeats flatly, shoving her way to the front of the group.

She looks him and Steve up and down. Eddie can see the way the fire in her eyes burns hotter and hotter as she lingers over the welts around Steve's wrists, the bruises on his face, the dirt and blood on Eddie's own hands. He hadn't noticed that before now, but he must have ripped at the edges of a couple of his fingernails, digging his hands into the ground like that.

Then Erica turns on her heel. "I'm going to call Tina."

"Tina?" Eddie asks, confused.

"She's the biggest gossip at Hawkins Middle," Erica replies. "Jason Carver is a ruined man."

"He's already in jail!" Steve calls.

"Yeah, and when I'm done with him, everyone will know what a psychopath he is!" Erica shouts back as she slams the door to the study down the hall.

Nancy makes this little giggling snort sound - the same one he heard her make when he was in the hospital, what feels like forever ago.

Apparently it was a good sound, because she's smiling.

"She's going to be a terror when she gets to high school," Robin says fondly.

"Yeah," Steve agrees. "I'm so proud of her."

"Ugh," Lucas groans.

"Luckily, she's got better friends than I did, to keep her grounded," Steve adds, looking out over all of them.

Joyce worms her way to the front, looking both of them up and down just like Erica.

And just like Erica, there's a ferocity to her as she takes them in, though hers burns cooler.

"Oh, honey," she murmurs. "Come on, let me look at you in the kitchen."

There's a moment of silence, then she looks at them.

"Both of you, now," she orders.

Well, not that much cooler.

"Hopper, will you order pizza for everyone? I know it's late, but I'm sure we could use it," she calls back as she ushers them into the kitchen.

She points them both to the kitchen table, and what the hell else is Eddie going to do but obediently sit? She digs into the freezer, gets out an ice pack and wraps it in a towel, then gently places it over Steve's eye and cheek.

"Hold it there for a little while," she tells him.

Then she wets another towel and comes over to Eddie, taking his hands in hers and gently cleaning them up. She looks at him with such softness and warmth when her eyes catch his that, horrifyingly, he feels his chin quiver a little, and he has to look away.

"I haven't gotten to tell you," she says quietly. "It was a very brave thing you did, helping fight against One."

"It doesn't feel like it," he finds himself admitting.

She hums softly. "Because you were scared?"

"Terrified," he agrees. "But because I didn't do enough."

She makes a tsk noise, wiping away the last of the grime and wrapping a bandaid around the tip of his finger, where a drop of blood had sprung up. "You're here. That's more than enough."

Jesus Christ, he's not going to cry, he's not.

She takes pity on him, patting his hand one more time and then going to check on Steve.

"That goes for you, too," she tells him as she lifts up the ice pack to take a peek, then puts it back down. "You think I haven't noticed that it's always you?"

"They're kids," Steve protests softly.

"So are you," she tells him, in the kind of tone that manages to be both gentle and leave no room for argument. "And you are worth more than how much damage you can take for them."

"Okay," Steve says, one hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

She tsks at him, then gently cleans the dirt off of his face and hands.

"There's juice and stuff in the fridge for everyone," he says.

"You're a sweetheart," she tells him.

Eddie snorts before he can stop himself.

She raises an eyebrow at him. "You have an opinion on that, Edward Munson?"

Shit.

"No ma'am," he says quickly, even though he knows it's a lie.

Steve drops the ice pack away from his face, grinning. He looks - a little punch drunk, a little like how he'd light up so high every time the house is filled with people. "That was a lie," he stage whispers to Joyce. "He definitely has an opinion."

She tries to hide her smile. "Oh? Enlighten us."

Eddie groans. "Look, I love Steve, okay, he's the kindest, bravest, best guy I know, but he's way too much of a bitch to be a sweetheart."

Steve cackles, head tilting back as he laughs.

Joyce has one hand over her mouth, her eyes wide and glistening with what looks like unshed tears. Eddie frowns, tries to think back to what he said - fuck, he'd said love, okay, but everyone knows Steve's his soulmate now, and he hadn't said what kind, so there's no way she'd assume -

She reaches out, takes one of their hands in each of hers. "Will you boys come to dinner on Sunday?"

Steve's brows furrow in confusion. "Well, yeah, of course."

"Good. Will and El missed you," she tells Steve, then nods at Eddie. "And I think Will's unsure about it, but I know he'd like to be in that club of yours. I think having you around, together, will be nice."

Oh.

"Of course, Mrs. B," Eddie says, exchanging a look with Steve.

She squeezes both of their hands, smiling softly at them a moment longer. "Are you ready to go back out and face the questions?"

They are, and they do.

Eddie takes over, dropping into DM mode to spin the story of what happened into something a little more colorful, a little less scary - and manages to cut his poetic waxing about Steve ripping the railing off and choking Jason while handcuffed short when Robin pointedly nudges him.

He's just about done when Erica emerges, looking very satisfied with herself.

"The whole school knows all the details of what a creep Jason is now," she says. "Both schools, by morning."

Steve picks her up, twirling her around.

She shrieks.

"Steven Everett Harrington, you put me down!" she shouts at him, kicking her feet.

Eddie notices she doesn't actually do anything to try to get him to let her go, and her shrieking is definitely the more gleeful variety, but he doesn't point it out for fear of the verbal dressing down he'd get.

She flips her hair when he finally sets her down, loudly commenting, "Ugh!" as she storms off to the couch.

"Me next," El requests, holding her arms out to him.

Steve immediately picks her up, smiling wide and playful as he spins her around to the sounds of her delighted laughter.

When he sets her down, he turns to Max - who was apparently waiting for that, and promptly throws a couch pillow at him.

"Don't you dare! What, just because I'm a girl! How sexist is that, why don't you try to twirl one of the guys?" she demands.

Steve tilts his head like he's considering that. "Okay," he agrees.

Eddie expects him to chase down Dustin or Lucas - but instead, the next thing he knows there's a pair of arms around his waist and Steve is hauling him up to twirl him around.

He cackles, draping his arms over Steve's neck and tipping his head back. "Come on, Harrington, put those muscles to use and twirl me faster," he teases.

Steve spins him around again, then sets him down, beaming at him.

Joyce whacks him on the shoulder.

"Quit that," she scolds. "You should both be resting. Go, on the couch, the both of you."

"How does Erica even know your middle name?" Eddie asks Steve once they're settled on the couch, after Uncle Wayne, Hopper, and Joyce have gone back into the kitchen.

"I know everything," Erica replies smugly.

Dustin scoffs. "Sir Everett is Steve's paladin. She only knows because he told us when we played."

In his indignation, he says it loud enough for the whole room to hear, and Lucas, Mike, and Will's heads immediately swivel over to look at them.

There's a moment of silence, as Dustin seems to realize what he just said. His eyes widen, gaze cutting over to Steve.

"You told!" Erica shouts delightedly. "Shotgun privileges revoked for a year!"

"You played with my sister?" Lucas asks, sounding betrayed.

"What the hell!" Mike agrees. "He was our friend first!"

Steve raises one eyebrow at him.

"You were!" Mike insists. "We even made you a part of the Party and gave you a walkie everything!"

"You sure that wasn't just to con your way into free movies last summer?" Steve teases, hands on his hips.

"Steve," Lucas protests.

"I think we're forgetting that Dustin knew about this," Will points out.

"Will, come on!" Dustin whines.

"All right, how about this," Steve says. "Will, when are you running one again?"

Will looks thrown. "Me?"

"Yeah, you," Steve says.

"Oh, I, uh. I don't know." Will's gaze cuts over to Eddie, then skitters away so quickly he's not completely sure it happened.

Yeah, looks like Joyce was right about him being uncertain. Eddie remembers Steve saying that Will was leaving his party behind and didn't want anything to play for a present, but his friends clearly hadn't done the same. Eddie can see how that'd cause some conflicting feelings.

"I've heard a lot about you," Eddie chimes in.

He feels Steve tense briefly next to him, then relax when it's clear Eddie isn't lying.

"What?" Will asks, looking back at him.

"Oh, yeah. Not to my face, of course, before spring break these little shits were terrified of me - and I already mourn the loss - but I heard them talking." He clears his throat, making his voice all high and squeaky. "'Can you believe that? Will never would have done that! Will would have given him a whole backstory! Will's introduction was ten times more interesting!'"

All right, maybe he's playing it up a bit - but he had overheard them talking about the differences in his and Will's styles a few times, and there were times that they liked Will's better.

"I wasn't the only one who DMed, though, Mike used to do it, too," Will says, face a little pink.

"Yeah, but you're way better," Mike says earnestly. "Remember how long my last couple of campaigns took me to plan and how quick we finished them?"

"Tell you what," Steve says. "You both work up one together, and Eddie, Robin, and I will play."

Jesus Christ, it's like Christmas came early.

Eddie cackles. "Just wait, boys, you haven't seen me as a player yet."

"Why am I roped into this now?" Robin protests, but it's the tone of voice she uses when she's going to do it, she just wants to bitch.

"We'll all play," Jonathan cuts in, glancing over at Nancy and Argyle. "Right, guys?"

"Oh, for sure. Bring it on, little dudes," Argyle agrees.

"Fine," Nancy says, rolling her eyes, but she's smiling. "I'm not dressing up, though."

"Dress up?" Eddie repeats, pouncing on it immediately.

"No!" Nancy retorts immediately.

Eddie wriggles, twisting so he can peer at her from over Robin's shoulder, eyes wide and beseeching. "Come on, Wheeler," he whines.

She glares at him, managing to hold it for a few seconds before she caves. "Fine! Remember this when it comes time for your study sessions."

Shit, that's right.

…eh, worth it.

"Dress up?" El repeats.

"Yeah, but boring dress up, not fun dress up like at the mall," Max says.

Eddie clutches his heart. "Mayfield. Don't you want to be a maiden fair? A tiefling princess?"

Max narrows her eyes at him.

El squeezes Max's hand.

"If I get a mace," Max says. "And I get to hit Munson with it at some point. I'll consider it."

"Deal!" Eddie immediately agrees.

He's pretty sure she means her character, and he can sacrifice a few hit points.

…she definitely means her character, right?

Eh, still worth it.

"Wait, there's costumes now?" Steve asks.

Eddie drops himself back over Steve. "Don't worry, I've got you covered."

Steve pulls a face. "Great," he mutters, voice dripping with sarcasm.

Mike and Will, who'd bowed their heads together to have a quick, fervent discussion, separate to look back up at the group.

"Okay," Will says. "We'll let you know when we've got it worked out."

The pizza arrives not long after, and even though he, Steve, and Robin already put away one earlier - that feels like forever ago, and he still devours a few more slices.

Eddie kind of expects some of them to go home at some point that night, but they never do.

Uncle Wayne takes the guest room that Steve told him he could have, and Joyce and Hopper end up in the other one. The rest of them all crash out in the living room, on couches and chairs and in sleeping bags.

No one bats an eye when he, Steve, and Robin tangle themselves up in each other.

Eddie falls asleep surrounded by his family, and thinks - there's no better feeling in the whole damn world.

Just one more part left, and then this will finally be wrapped up!

-----

Part 27

Tag list (always happy to add more for the last bit!): @vampireinthesun @koibug @estrellami-1 @mentalcyborg @allbimyself26 @questionablequeeries @the-s-is-silent @whimsicalwitchm @a-gae-af-racoon @tinyplanet95 @n0-1-important @velocitytimes2 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @newtstabber @jcmadgirl @roblingoblin285 @lexyvey @paperbackribs @goodolefashionedloverboi @evix-syne666 @raisedbylibrarians @stxrcrossed186 @nightmareglitter @greekgeek24 @starman-jpg @crazyhatlady86 @imfinereallyy @manda-panda-monium @deleataecount @prideandsensibility @chaoticvictorianspirit @maydillydally @disrespectedgoatman @scarlet-malfoy @i-less-than-three-you @hbyrde36 @hallucinatedjosten @dragonsandgayships @arepaconchocolate @g4ys0n @novelnovella @bisexualdisastersworld @ghostofyourvampiregf @scarletyeager @pettrichore @nerd-and-nervous @hiimlevi @queenie-ofthe-void @cinnamon-mushroomabomination

#steddie #eddie munson #steve harrington #stranger things #steddie fic #robin buckley #dustin henderson #erica sinclair #joyce byers #jim hopper #steddie soulmate au

175 notes · View notes