Zukka Au Where Aunt Wu Looks Straight At Sokka And Instead Of Telling Him That His Future Is Full Of

Imagine that ex-husband Gojo is baffled by you giving him the cold shoulder upon your return from your romantic getaway with his replacement.

As far as he knew, Satoru didn't bother you or anyone else (except Suguru) about his grief over this trip whatsoever. So why were you upset with him? Why aren't you back happy, well-rested, glowing, possibly with a ring? (Even if that last one would've broken Satoru for good.)

"Hey, did you-- Where'd she go?" Satoru popped his head into a classroom at the Kyoto school where he'd just finished a meeting. As soon as he opened his mouth, you took off out of the room's other door. Sen looks up unimpressed while his friends give each other a dubious look.

"That's her business," he grumbles.

You'd been dodging him for going on two weeks now and while Satoru's always had an unbreakable spirit, he was beginning to think that he should leave you well enough alone. Even after the divorce, you never avoided him like this.

Sen watches his father's face fall and morph into genuine sorrow.

'He doesn't deserve her anyway.' Sen reminds himself over and over again. Satoru mumbles an apology and turns to leave.

Hikari Higuruma and Naoki Zenin both kick him under their desks.

"Come on, man," Nao murmurs.

"Say something!" Hikari hisses.

Both of Sen's friends are the type to respond to "will you help me hide a body?" with "yeah, what snacks should I bring and how many shovels do we need?" With that in mind, their disapproval in this scenario seriously puts the situation into perspective for Sen. That, and he thinks his mother stands to lose the most if he doesn't speak up.

'Dammit,' Sen thinks to himself.

"Dad!" he barks. Satoru must've truly been deep in thought when the sharp crack of his son's voice is enough to make him jump. He turns and Sen leans back in his chair, trying to look nonchalant.

"You didn't do anything wrong," Sen says before thinking of a caveat. "This time." He may not know the details, but Sen at least knows you well enough that whatever happened on your couples' retreat had nothing to do with anything Satoru did.

Satoru looks hopeful. "Then what's--"

"Didn't I just say that's her business?" Sen snaps. "Go ask her if it's so important!" Satoru affords his son a small smile. There's a nonzero chance that he spoke up out of pity, but Satoru is sure the majority of Sen's motivation was for your sake. If there's anything without doubt in this world, it's Sen's love for you.

"Right." Satoru tosses a green packet to his son, who easily catches it in one hand. "Thanks anyway, kiddo!" Good thing he grabbed a pack of chocorooms the last time he was at the train station.

As Satoru leaves, Hikari snatches the pack from Sen.

"Oh, I fuck with these," she says, tearing the bag open.

Nao reaches over. "Hand those over!"

"No way, you're too slow!"

"Those are literally mine."

"Get off!"

Satoru smiles. His son was never as lonely as he was growing up and he never would be as long as those two were around.

Imagine ex-husband Gojo hearing your soft sniffles from inside a random storage closet. He hasn't seen or heard you cry in, what, fifteen years?

He softly taps on the door. "Hi," he murmurs.

The sniffling immediately stops as you contemplate the likelihood of him going away. But you know him like you know yourself and even if you don't let him inside the closet, he'd sit down and wait by the door until you're ready. And if you don't talk to him after that, he'd walk you home. And if you were silent the whole way home, he'd keep his mouth shut until you were ready.

And that just about sums up the kind of person your husband is.

Ex-husband. Fuck.

You reach out and unlock the door, which Satoru takes as his cue to come in and shut it behind him. Normally, he'd cup your face in his hands like you were the most precious thing in the world (you are, as far as he's concerned) and wipe your tears with his thumbs, but he can't do that now because you've been avoiding him for a while now and you may or may not be engaged to someone else.

"This is my own fuck up, Satoru," you tell him with a big sniffle. You try to collect yourself before tears start to fall again. Putting your face in your hands, you tell him, "You don't need to comfort me. This is my own fault."

Satoru takes your hands in his. He doesn't feel a ring and he hates himself for feeling hopeful about that.

"Did he propose?" he asks as neutrally as he can.

You rest your forehead against his chest. "He might as well have. He offered me a promise ring. It was beautiful. I couldn't have designed a better one myself."

Saying it out loud make the guilt even heavier.

Satoru isn't afraid of much, but he is afraid to ask, "And?"

"And." You purse your lips and he deserves eye contact right now, but you don't have the strength. "I couldn't accept it."

Satoru's heart skips a beat and he curses himself for it. But even he's taking aback. The perfect man just served himself to you on a silver platter and you said no?

"Oh," is all he can say.

You reply, "Yeah. Oh."

"Why?" he can't help but ask.

"Satoru, you know why."

"I promise you I don't."

It takes a moment for you to figure out how you want to say this, but you settle for short version.

"It's just." You breathe in his scent, as familiar to you as your own. He smells like coming home after a long trip and while hotels and AirBNBs and temporary homes may be nice and have all the luxuries, nothing beats returning to the space you cultivated for yourself. "Every day I'm not your wife is the worst day of my life. So no, I couldn't promise myself to someone else. And I feel like a bad person because I went on this trip knowing that there was a possibility he'd ask to make us official and I went anyway, and you know what he said to me after I said no?"

"What?" Satoru breathes out. His mind is still reeling from the first thing you said. About how much you hated not being his wife. And now all he could think about is that from the moment the word 'divorce' left your mouth all those years ago, he'd been sleepwalking through life sustained only by the brief moments he got to see you or hear of you or be reminded of you.

You fist your hands in his shirt. "He told me it was ok. That I don't owe him anything and he'll always cherish our time together." You shake your head miserably. "I never deserved him. There's no version of me that ever will, but I just can't be with him."

Satoru doesn't move. He'd let go of your hands when you grabbed his shirt and his hands now hang limply at his sides. He stands so still that it's like he hasn't even heard you.

It may not seem like it in the moment, but your ex-husband always found the right words. From the first, "you look like crap" to the wedding vows he spent months on and ended up going off script anyways, he always knew just what to say.

As the silence stretched on, you grew increasingly uncomfortable. There was never any doubt that Satoru loved you, but now that you've said something you can't take back, has he realized how the eventual heartache wasn't worth it in the end? At some point, has he realized that maybe you were just never meant to be?

"Satoru?" you ask in a small voice.

Rather than using insufficient words for the feeling of joy and relief beyond comprehension, Satoru wordlessly reaches into his shirt and pulls out a chain. On it hangs his wedding ring, yours, and your engagement ring.

In the weeks after the divorce, you tried to give your engagement and wedding ring back to him. He didn't accept them at first, telling you they're yours and always would be, but one day, he came to work and found them sitting on his desk. He exorcised 37 curses that day.

You huff a laugh. "You keep those on you?"

The storage closet you're in is small, smells mildly of bleach and strongly of dirt, and the light fixture hands so low Satoru has to stoop to not bang his head. His elbow knocks over a mop and the bucket its in, which causes a chain reaction of falling cleaning supplies, but he ignores it all to awkwardly fit himself onto one knee.

Satoru unclasps the chain and slides your engagement ring off. Your hands fly to your mouth and to him, you look even more beautiful than you did the first time he asked. Your cheeks aren't as full, you look more world-weary, but your eyes still shine as bright and you'll always be you, and for that, Satoru could never love anyone else the way he loved you. Not even close, not even a little bit. Not even at all.

Satoru slides his blindfold up and it sits in his hair messily. "Maybe you don't think you deserve him, but if I could just be selfish this one time." He has to swallow to keep his voice steady. "I'd ask if you'd be willing to settle for me, who doesn't deserve you. Because I love you and I'll spend the rest of my life making you happy."

Your tears fall freely as he takes your left hand in his.

"If that's enough, then I hope you'll accept this as a promise ring. That I'll take it slow and I'll respect your boundaries and you can back out at any time." He winks. "And that I'll get you a new engagement ring when the time comes."

It's like you've just walked through the threshold of your home after ages away. Breathed in your scent. Taken in all the decor you've collected while living there.

"You've spent a really long time hung up on the same girl, Satoru," you laugh wetly.

Satoru grins. "You don't get it. She's a really special girl. No one compares. So, what do you say? I'll pick you up at seven tomorrow?"

And what else are you supposed to say? That's Your Man.

Hello, loves, I just moved from one end of the U.S. to the other and moved away from my parents for work. I lived in the same house in the same bedroom for 24 years, and it's been hard, so I haven't been writing, but here is the most emotional installment I've written of any fic ever. I hope you enjoy.

Click [here] to keep up with ex-husband Gojo and his estranged family | Ask stuff about Sen and the fam [here]

stop normalizing ai use in fandom 👎

Gojo x Fem!Pregnant!Reader pt. 3

He comes back, but at what price?

pt.2

@awthem @just-lilita @aesztik @yozora7154

You fretted with your hands, your body all curled up on the couch as you waited for Nanami to bring Gojo back here, back home. You needed time to gather yourself, but both Shoko and Nanami were insistent that you get this over with. That Gojo needs to know the truth.

You were nervous and it could only worsen when you heard the front door open.

“And here I thought I would be living in a flat by myself, but no I got myself a whole house!”

His voice echoed in that excited manner he always seemed to have, it made you smile.

“I wouldn’t say by yourself, Gojo,” Nanami’s voice rings out.

“You mean…?’

You didn’t hear Nanami say anything else, but he probably nodded towards the living room where you were at (where you promised to stay and not run off somewhere). And all too quickly did you see a flash of white pop right through the entryway of the living room. His eyes directly on you, his blindfold haphazardly pulled off and hanging around his neck as he looked at you.

“Y/n-?”

His voice sort of choked out your name.

“But I thought- you- someone else-“

His mind was seemingly at work as Nanami decided to leave you both alone.

“I’m sorry, Gojo…”

His nose crinkled at his name as he walked up to you, his form seemingly towering over you as he stood in front of you. You couldn’t meet his eyes.

“We’re married?”

“yes,” you managed to say, your voice small.

“You’re pregnant with my kid.”

You nodded this time, not once trusting your voice.

“And you…weren’t going to tell me…”

“We… got into a fight. You said how it was probably best that we never got together, and when you said you didn’t remember anything I just- I just thought that maybe this was a way of you not wanting this.”

You knew how Gojo was. He was quick to anger. Always lashing out. Especially when he was younger. You saw it when he was arguing with Geto, the higher ups, sometimes with you when you both were too stubborn to admit to being wrong.

Something like this… how could he not get angry?

So you prepared for it. Both mentally and physically.

You were ready for him to yell at you. Ready to be told that “you were really going to walk away because of a single fight.” But it wasn’t just a fight. At least, that’s what you thought.

And instead of being yelled at, Gojo merely fell to the couch beside you. The action made you jump as he captured you into his arms, “fuck…”

His arms pulled you close so his face could fit into the crook of your neck.

“G- gojo?”

“Don’t call me that,” he muttered, his breath fanning your skin, “call me Satoru or Toru like you did back in school.”

“A- alright, Toru.”

Your voice was still shaky but you could feel Gojo smile against your neck.

“Have we sat like this before?”

You looked down at him, the urge to run your fingers through his hair becoming strong, “yeah… though, lately, before the fight, you have been laying your head on my stomach.”

The moment you said those words, Gojo was already moving causing you to gasp when you felt him lay his head onto your stomach, his body slightly adjusting so he was more comfortable.

“Toru?!”

He looked up at you then, that same charming smile that you fell in love with adorning his lips, “what? I’m only doing what I used to.”

His voice was teasing, his charming smile soon turning cheeky and all too quickly it felt like you both were young and in love teenagers instead of two married adults about to have a baby.

What broke you out of your thoughts was his hands reaching up to caress your cheek.

“Y/n?”

“Yeah?”

You leaned into his touch.

“I’m sorry for what I said, all of it. The fight, I mean. It’s hazy and I don’t really remember it, but…I know I was wrong. I mean, how could I ever not want this life with you?”

Dr. Areej, Dr. Ahmad, and their child Sarra are a Gazan family who have been suffering from displacement, hunger, and lack of medical care throughout the genocide. Along with three other members of their family — Dr. Areej's mother and Dr. Ahmad's mother and father — they are seeking to evacuate to Egypt.

Please donate what you can and share. Donations have been slow — as of March 10, they have not yet raised even $2000. Can we try to raise at least $1000 in the next few days?

paypal.com

Help Evacuate Sarra and Her Family to Safety

Help Pelal Halbi reach their goal by donating or sharing with your friends.

Time Loop Steddie Fics

Important: READ THE TAGS! Also, leave a comment and kudos! These fics are amazing and I love them and I hope y'all do too ⏳

pulling your strings

Thorinoakentwig

He wakes up to the melody of Kate Bush and the sound of Dustin and Lucas arguing about what sounds like who would win in a fight between Batman and Superman.

It’s like ice water dripping down his spine and Steve jerks up wide eyed and horrified as the kids look over at him in confusion.

Words : 14,260 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

The One in Which a Time Loop is Fucking Exhausting.

badpancake

The one where Steve Harrington is stuck in a time loop, and Eddie Munson is really fucking hard to save, or: fuck Volume 2, these bitches are in love.

Words : 41,496 Chapters : 12/12 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

ride the dragon's wing

fypical

In the Upside Down, hours later, Steve turns and looks at Dustin and Eddie and thinks please run please run please don’t die leave us behind if you have to— “Listen, don’t … try anything, if shit goes wrong, okay? Just get out of here.”

Words : 11,766 Chapters : 3/3 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

and it all comes down to you

heartofwinterfell

Eddie Munson’s no hero. Too bad the universe—or whatever’s gonna be left of it—didn’t get the memo.

Words : 18,638 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

I can't save us, my Atlantis

kissmejusttokissme

Steve will relive the night of the battle as many times as it takes to make things right.

Words : 8,787 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

echo

CaptainHoney

Loop 6 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 27 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 304 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Loop 368 - Steve Eddie bleeds out in his arms.

Words : 30,342 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Explicit

AO3 : x

the lathe

palmviolet

"This time, do it right. This time Eddie won’t bleed out in his arms, in anyone’s arms. This time, Steve will do it right."

Words : 82,547 Chapters : 13/13 Rating : Mature

AO3 : x

Times Like These

Hbyrde

Death doesn’t hurt. It is in fact the opposite of hurt. Eddie knows precisely the moment he dies because that is the moment the pain stops. He floats away into blackness and can’t even bring himself to be scared. he’s too relieved that the pain has stopped. Before he can think much about where he’s floating off to, a loud rushing sound hits his ears. He thinks about covering his ears with his hands to drown the sound out but at the moment he’s not even sure he HAS hands.

With that frightening thought his eyes shoot open and his feet hit solid ground. He’s in the trailer and Chrissy is standing a few feet in front of him “are you sure you have it?” she says.

Words : 49,700 Chapters : 10/10 Rating : Not Rated (Explicit)

AO3 : x

you are going to die in your best friend’s arms. (but he won’t let you leave like that)

oaseas

Dustin wakes up in Max’s trailer the day of Eddie’s death. Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, but three times? Three times is a pattern.

Words : 22,505 Chapters : 1/1 Rating : Teen And Up Audiences

AO3 : x

Mama Ricci Knows Best

Part 1 Part 2 AO3

Eddie doesn't know what he'd been expecting. At this point, he knows more about Steve than should probably be allowed. Knows that his favorite color is yellow, that he's terrible with spicy food but always goes for it anyways. Eddie knows that Steve is working towards an education degree out of the city with his best friend (platonic soulmate? whatever that means), should be graduating next year. He's a great swimmer, a huge partier, and apparently an amazing cook.

And really, Steve sounds like an amazing guy, Mama Ricci has done her very best to give the impression that he's as perfect as perfection can be. But that's exactly what makes Eddie skeptical, because, yes Steve sounds great in theory, but it's his grandmother speaking, how accurate can the depiction really be?

Plus if he's being honest, finding a stable relationship is at the bottom of his priority list right now. He's content with his day-to-day routine and social life as it is, doesn't really need more than his hand and the occassional hookup. The single life is pretty chill right now actually.

So yeah, Eddie doesn't care enough to form an expectation, could watch any guy close enough to Mama Ricci's description walk in, and be neither pleased nor disappointed to learn that they're Steve. Surely that kind of open mind would prepare him for whoever he might have to eventually turn down if they happen to be interested. After all, He's too much of a coward to outwardly tell sweet ol' Mama Ricci herself to let up on her matchmaking.

That being said, nothing could have prepared him for the real deal.

For Steve Harrington in the flesh.

"Fuck Chrissy, he's beautiful."

Eddie's eyes are glued onto the hardwood floor, one hand hanging loosely off the side of the couch.

"Like actually gorgeous. I'm talking Vogue cover type shit."

There's a moment of silence that fills the small apartment living room. Then Eddie turns his head and screams–yet again– into the fluffy throw pillow. The sound is muffled but still has enough impact for its intended effect. At least judging by the snort he hears from the kitchen.

"Then quit being a big baby about it and just ask him out. You already have his grandmother's blessing, that's like what? rolling with advantage?"

And as much as Eddie appreciates the cleverly inputed DnD reference– it pleases him more than anything to know Chrissy retains at least some of his out of party campaign rambles– he finds it hard to agree.

"Um. Not necessarily?" Eddie says as he sits up and helps himself to one of the fruit platters Chrissy places on the center table as she drops onto the carpeted floor.

"I mean even if Mama Ricci did tell him all about me, doesn't mean he'd actually be interested yknow? It's his grandma for Christ sake! Guy probably doesn't think much of it."

Chrissy grabs an apple off the platter, bites down on it gracefully like she does everything, a stark contrast to Eddie who is the walking definition of a catastrophe.

"Well? Did he seem interested when he saw you?"

Eddie thinks back to their awfully brief meeting. The smile he'd been greeted with was dazzling, all pearly whites, long lashes over soft brown eyes and tanned features dotted with the prettiest freckles. As much as he loves to imagine that the cheerful greeting was anything more than a polite customer service obligation, it's hard to fully do so when the rest of his stay was met with a standoffish demeanor and a solid poker face.

There had been that one second where he swore he'd seen the guy flush– Eddie can't remember what he'd said though cause his brain had officially logged out of the conversation at that point– but that could easily have been all in his head.

Then again, the moment Eddie had gotten his order, he'd practically scarfed down the meal and ran out. Was it a panicked decision? Yes. But nothing triggers his fight or flight response more than someone that attractive. Like seriously, that shit totally snuck up on him. Thank goodness for his highschool improv classes and fake-it-till-you-make-it mentality, otherwise, he might have walked right back out the moment he'd seen the guy.

"Hard to say." Eddie settles for, and Chrissy hums thoughtfully. He thinks maybe she'll offer some solid advice. Some life changing shit that'll ring true and somehow provide the magical answers he needs to his rather pathetic problems ( it's honestly not that rare of an occurence with her), instead all Chrissy does is shrug and grab another apple slice.

"Whatever happened to 'I know Mama Ricci is sweet Chrissy, but I'm not gonna date her grandson cause of it. That's not how this shit works." Her voice is a lower pitch, meant to imitate Eddie as she throws his own words back at him.

Eddie feels something dangerously close to embarrassment boil at the pit of his stomach from the clear irony. He narrows his eyes at her, debates smacking the back of her head with the pillow, but debunks the idea once he realizes just how comfortable it feels pressed against his cheek.

"Yknow what? I liked you better when you didn't know you were allowed to have a personality."

Chrissy laughs, unaffected by the playful jab–a normalcy for them– at the days she'd spent being nothing more than a dress up doll for her mother.

"Yeah okay freak." She answers and this time fully earns the pillow smack.

Since Chrissy is completely and utterly useless (he's not just going to walk up to a dude that looks like a fucking greek god and ask him out), Eddie chooses to approach the whole thing as casually as possible.

Or in other words, decides not to approach it at all.

Eddie likes to think he can be a pretty smooth dude when he wants to be, but that's only a result of years of bullshitting his way through most of his life. He knows for a fact that if he does that now, he just might–as in definitely will–make an absolute fool of himself.

So Eddie's next few visits are brief, and he spends only a fraction of his usual time conversing with the staff before disappearing.

It's especially easy to keep his visits brief since true to Mama Ricci's words, the restaurant does get busier. There are still the occasional slow days, but the hectic ones are just as frequent now.

Eddie can see that Mama Ricci disapproves of his quicker departures. Even when she's swamped, swerving through a maze of filled tables, she always finds the time to stop by, to place one of her air kisses at the side of his cheek before diving back into the crowd of fussy customers. There's always a little frown on her face whenever he pays and instantly gets up to leave.

But it's good for Eddie because his interactions with Steve are limited to quick professional exchanges– which he definitely does not spend oggling those broad shoulders, pouty lips and that maddeningly perky ass.

Sometimes Steve isn't around and it's just the main 3 and the new handful of summer employers (which fair, the guy probably has a social life outside of the restaurant), and on those days Eddie tries not to appear too disappointed, though he always ends up leaving even earlier.

He thinks he's at least being subtle about it, until the afternoon Max slides him a plate of polenta and apologizes for the absence of Steve on their menu that day. The little brat.

Needless to say, Eddie tries to be more careful with his staring after that. (Especially when he catches one of Mama Ricci's knowing glances while looking around–not for Steve of course..)

But it's a good little routine of avoidance, and things stay that way for a bit.

At least until Mama Ricci intervenes yet again.

It's one of those rare days that start off busy but trickles off as evening approaches. Since the Corroded Coffin gig had been cancelled last minute, Eddie'd figured he'd hop in for a quick meal and be out as quickly as always.

He greets one of the summer employees on their way out, and finds the store empty when he walks in. Max is by one of the window seats scrolling through her phone with her headphones in. She looks up to regard him with a nod but doesn't bother coming over to take his order.

There's Italian bickering from the kitchen, a little muffled behind the curtains, but that's something Eddie's used to hearing at this point. Mrs. Mayfield peeks out, eyes widening slightly when she sees Eddie.

"I thought I heard the bell. Max! Don't just sit th-" But Max isn't listening, still bobbing her head in the corner. Mrs. Mayfield stops mid-sentence, sighs and pulls out her notepad with a weary smile.

"What can I get you Eds?" She asks and Eddie raises a brow as the bickering rises in volume and there's something like a door slam.

"Oh don't mind them." Mrs. Mayfield says. "Those two are always like that. Close but in that way where they'll bicker over literally anything. It's actually scarier when they're in agreement." She explains. Eddie pictures the sharp reprimands he's seen Mama Ricci give some of her workers on occasion, pictures the scowl he'd seen Steve send to a particularly rude customer once. Somehow he can picture how the two as a joined force would be quite intimidating.

"Ah, makes sense." Eddie says, then places his order.

Mama Ricci is the one to serve him, and it's almost amazing how fast the frown on her face morphs into a wide grin when she sees him. He honestly loves her so much.

Eddie doesn't see Steve through his meal, even tries to eat slower so he gets a chance. It's more than a little disappointing when he's done and still doesn't catch a glimpse.

He's tucking his wallet into his back pocket and getting ready to leave. That's when he hears the loud grunt.

Mama Ricci has one hand braced against the wall behind the counter, bending forward slightly. She's massaging her back with slow movements and there's a black bag leaning against her leg. Instantly Eddie frowns and moves forward. He swears he hears Mrs. Mayfield mumble something under her breath behind him, but can't quite make it out.

"Everything okay?" Eddie asks from across the counter and is answered with another quiet groan.

"It's these old bones of mine Eddie." Mama Ricci complains "Can't move around like I used to." Her fingers gesture slightly towards the garbage bag at her feet and Eddie does the only right thing to do in the situation.

He's barely done asking if he can help before Mama Ricci is thanking him, motioning for him to join her behind the counter.

"There's another one inside by the sink. The bin is right outside, just go through the back door and it's on your right." She points through the kitchen and Eddie nods in understanding. He grabs both bags as instructed, and since the space is relatively small, the back door is hard to miss.

It's not exactly the first time Eddie has lended Mama Ricci a hand, but usually the older woman is more opposed to hand outs of any kind. So it feels kind of good– a little odd, but good–that she easily accepts the help this time.

Eddie's swinging the door open with his leg when he sees the sharp jerk of movement. He reels back in surprise, wide eyes snapping up to face equally startled ones.

It's Steve, looking positively cornered as he hides an arm behind his back, lips pressing together for only a second before peeling apart instantly to let out a series of deep coughs. The wave of smoke that leaves with the sound is an instant giveaway.

Eddie waits through the coughs, mostly frozen in place because he definitely had not been prepared for this interaction.

"Shit." He's honestly a little surprised to find that the curse isn't from his own lips.

A few more coughs and Steve finally pulls his arm out to reveal the cigarette stick in his hand.

"Sorry I thought you were my grandma" He explains, pausing momentarily before waving the small burning stick in his hand. "I huh..was gonna quit."

Eddie blinks and finally realizes that being frozen in place probably isn't a great look, no matter how pretty Steve looks with his hair tousled like that and those pink lips curling again around the depleting cigarette.

"I see." Eddie says after clearing his throat. It's his cue to finally lug the two garbage bags out, letting the door shut loudly behind him. He pretends he doesn't feel the way Steve's eyes follow him as he finds the bin in the distance and tosses each bag in.

Eddie doesn't know why he expects Steve to avert his gaze when he turns around, but those brown eyes are still on him when he does.

Steve's leaning against the wall now, cigarette smothered and forgotten, and his expression doesn't betray anything. Considering the fact that it's their first interaction outside of the restaurant, Eddie thinks he's dying a little.

Okay, fuck that. He's dying a lot.

"So." Steve starts, angling his position against the wall so they're fully facing each other. Eddie summons every last bit of false courage he can to sound just as casual when he repeats the word. "So?"

Steve's blank expression doesn't budge, but his full attention is nothing if not overwhelming.

"The famous Eddie Munson."

Eddie grins, looks down at his feet and pushes away the tirade of 'oh my god, oh my god, it's happening.' in his mind. His voice comes out calm enough when he looks back up and leans against the wall opposite Steve.

"You've heard of me?" Eddie asks, voice laced with feigned surprise. He wonders if it's something they'll just skirt around, the clear signs that Mama Ricci wants more for them than just to meet and get along.

"Heard of you is one way of putting it. You've been her favorite sales pitch for like, months now." There's something like exasperation in Steve's tone, but it's exaggerated in a way that makes it playful.

"Trust me. I could say the same. " Eddie answers with a smile that touches on genuine. It shifts to teasing, tilting unevenly to one side in a half smirk as a memory slides to the forefront of his mind.

"Did you really crawl backward as a baby?"

And it's the right thing to ask because Steve stands up straighter, looking positively mortified as a faint flush reaches his ears. It shouldn't feel nearly as good as it does to finally pull a clear reaction out of the guy.

"Christ she told you that?" Steve groans, bringing his hands up to cover his face. Eddie laughs and he feels his nerves calm ever so slightly at the small but significant win.

"Amongst other things."

Steve drops his hands to his side instantly, seems to debate on something before letting out a tired huff. "Y'know what? I don't even wanna know."

And Eddie thinks that's where the conversation will end. They've met now, could probably move up to slightly longer hellos whenever he visits. That counts doe something.

He's pushing himself off the wall to reach for the door when Steve says. "You're nothing like I imagined."

Eddie retracts his hand, wills his heart to relax cause fuck they were still talking. Okay. That's cool. Still talking is good.

"Yeah? What were you imagining?"

Steve seems thoughtful as he crosses his arms across his chest, stature so solid that Eddie has to banish away all thoughts of breaking it down.

"I don't know. She described you like the picture perfect suburban husband. Tucked in shirt, tie, suitcase and everything." Eddie feels an eyebrow quirk, the word husband echoing into the air between them with a weight that makes him stare down at his feet again, heat spreading to his cheek because really, why'd Steve have to say it like that?

He hears Chrissy cackling at the back of his mind, mocking him yet again with a snarky 'I thought you were against the whole settling down bullshit.' which 'fuck you Chrissy', he'd kiss the guy senseless, doesn't mean he wants to marry him. Why is he even having this pointless mental argument again??

"Y'know, works hard but has a big heart, great with kids, always ready to help even when she asks him not to." Steve continues, checking each item off a finger as he recounts it. He's so casual too, as if every compliment doesn't punch at the part of Eddie that is shit at accepting it. "Caring, handsome, the day-to-day kinda superman yknow?"

"Handsome?" Eddie blurts before he can stop himself, having failed to remember that this was just the guy quoting his grandmother. There's a look of amusement on Steve's face, and when his neutral face shifts into a teasing smile Eddie wants to punch something. It has to be illegal to look that good.

"That's seriously all you got outta that?"

Fuck. Eddie curses internally, feels the corner of his confident mask twitch because there's only so much improv he can do, and he definitely did not rehearse for this shit.

He takes the easy way out by waving aside the comment, focuses on the crunch of gravel under his boots as he speaks.

"Well you're right. Wholesome as the description sounds, I'd probably break into hives if I get within a meter of a suit, much less a cubicle. Truly sorry to disappoint though." It's said as a joke, so Eddie doesn't expect the seriousness that settles on Steve's face. A second passes before the guy shrugs.

"I'm not"

Eddie frowns, isn't quite sure what the statement is supposed to mean.

"Disappointed I mean. I'm not disappointed."

And as Steve clarifies, those brown pools track up and down once, soaking in Eddie in a way that's a little too focused to be anything but intense. Something like understanding clicks into place and oh. Oh.

Eddie can feel his smile stretch on its own, knows for sure that he's safe to move in now, to push further. He's envisioning his next words already, something low and suggestive reaching the back of his throat as he takes a step forward.

There's a clack directly behind the door.

It's not loud but it's quiet enough in the back alley to reach their ears.

Both he and Steve snap their heads to the side, brows raising in mirrored surprise before dipping into confusion.

It's Steve who opens the door, and over his shoulder Eddie sees Max first. She's bent over slightly, observing an onion in her hand with too much interest as she..strokes it? Mrs. Mayfield is whisking in a bowl by her side, but Eddie's pretty sure there's nothing in it judging from the metallic sound it's making. And Mama Ricci herself, closest to the door and off to the opposite side, is squinting at her nailbed, but the angle of her body is just a little too awkward for the gesture to appear natural.

The weird moment is interrupted by Steve saying something in Italian. Something that makes Mama Ricci glare up instantly and forces Mrs. Mayfield to look away with shame. Max coughs and walks out of the room wordlessly.

Another second passes then Mama Ricci claps suddenly, sweet smile returning along with a chirpy tone.

"Thank you so much for your help Eddie." She says, entirely ignoring whatever the hell just happened. At his side, Eddie hears Steve scoff.

He's not dumb, Eddie knows they'd all been eavesdropping, watches as Mama Ricci easily lifts a box onto a kitchen counter, old bones seemingly forgotten.

It takes everything in him not to laugh, especially with how thoroughly embarrassed Steve looks staring blankly off into the distance with the reddest flush on his cheeks.

Eddie knows now that he might have a shot, so might as well end the guy's current suffering.

"No worries. I'll be on my way then."

Mama Ricci hugs him once, lets the gesture linger a little longer than usual. There's something like satisfaction on her face when she pulls away.

The moment he steps out of the kitchen, the Italian bickering erupts. Eddie wonders if they know curtains aren't doors, but either way feels completely elated.

He finds Max behind the counter, her old spot now occupied by a small group that's whispering quietly amongst themselves (probably the last customers of the day since they close in less than half an hour).

She gives him a knowing look but doesn't say anything, and when Eddie winks she simply rolls her eyes before turning back down to whatever she's doing on her phone.

Eddie can't help but notice the onion sitting awkwardly by her side, and it's the sight that finally does it for him.

Eddie's still laughing by the time he starts his van.

God he can't wait to tell Chrissy.

_________________________________________

Yeah yeah 3 parts turned into 4. But it's pretty much done so its definitely 4 parts I swear!!! I ended up tagging more people cause im a pushover like that (and yall were too sweet sjsj) but its on A03 now so if you want to be notifed when its updated just subscribe there. I really wont be tagging anyone new on the last part.

@maya-custodios-dionach @newtstabber @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @electrick-marionnett @trikigirl271 @yes-im-your-mom @justanothergirlwithobsessions @mars-the-witch @moviebuff90 @misguideadghosts @raisedbylibrarians @henderdads @gay-stranger-things @kozuuji @gregre369 @trikigirl271 @vampireinthesun @goodolefashionedloverboi @commonxsenss @m-owo-n @adaed5 @iwouldsail @original-cypher @estrellami-1 @punctualhowell @straight4joekeery

Part One

Part Two

"So this is knitting?"

Eddie watches as Steve carefully threads the loom back and forth, back and forth, "yeah."

"I thought knitting was like, with needles?"

"It can be...but I'm no good at it," Eddie admits shyly, suspects he's probably blushing. Again. "Could never hold the tension, it just got tighter and tighter until it was like chainmail. So I tried sewing, shit at that too. Well, I can do patches and stuff on my jacket, by hand, but proper sewing with a machine, to make a blanket? Carnage man, blood everywhere." Steve snorts a laugh, but doesn't look up from what he's doing, "so I tried crochet, pretty sure I had carple tunnel in like, ten minutes flat. Was ready to quit but then...I found these things. And I'm sort of okay at it."

"Well, you're managing to teach me, so you must be more than just okay."

Eddie does blush then, glad Steve isn't looking up from his work. It's sweet, watching the Alpha figure out this most Omega of tasks. Eddie has no idea how this happened, but it's his third time at Steve's.

Never turn down a free meal is so ingrained in Eddie he was agreeing before he even really realised what he was agreeing too.

And it isn't until later that very evening, when Steve quietly says, "hey, can I show you something, before you go?" That Eddie understands. Because he's standing in the doorway to a nesting room. Of course the Harrington house has a nesting room, it's big enough and fancy enough for a pool for god's sake.

Eddie stands and stares into the little windowless room, lit softly by covered lights, and examines the dip in the middle. The soft curve in the floor where Steve has very carefully constructed a nest.

Eddie's never been offered this before, never had an Alpha come even close to something like this. The whole room smells of Steve. Some of the nest is clearly Steve's bedding.

He's done a good job; Eddie's Omega preens and Eddie has to breathe sharply through his mouth to deliberately squash the purr that wants to escape his chest.

He knows now, why he's here; Steve wants his heat. Probably not the first heat Steve Harrington has offered to share with someone, Eddie has no illusions about what this is.

But this might be his chance. He's already forming a plan. It's shitty and underhand but it'll get him the pup he wants so badly. Eddie doesn't look at that nest and see his own survival, he doesn't see salvation. He sees a pup cradled in his arms.

Steve never needs to know, even. Eddie knows Steve's interest in him will evaporate once Eddie's heat is done. Once Eddie has what he wants so badly.

Eddie says, "yes."

Hallo my friend 🌹

Can you help me recover from the war?

I am Ahmed Jehad, I am 28 years old. I am married and have a daughter who is less than a year old. I live in Gaza in a displacement tent in Deir al-Balah, I lost shelter and a source of income.

My house was destroyed in Khan Yunis and I was displaced more than 3 times fleeing from the massacres. I am trying to protect my family from this devastating war.

I am in difficult days to search for water, food, and necessities for my child.

Help me save my family from destruction and poverty.

My campaign has been/ verified by the bees and watermelon organization for verified/examined campaigns (No. 171) by @aces-and-angels

https://gofund.me/665fbb6c

Please help me by donating

gofundme.com

Donate to Help Ahmed Jehad and his newborn survive!, organized by Ashika Jaffar

Ahmed Jehad (28 years old) is living in a never-ending nightmare. He got marri… Ashika Jaffar needs your support for Help Ahmed Jehad and hi

❤️

He is literally the "🥺"

save me oh catholic boy with religious trauma