#Pov: you have to eat at the little kids table | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

notjustjavierpena · 9 months

Text

The Making of Ellie - Part I

A/N: This DILF!Joel piece has rotted my brain for 24 hours straight. I have had absolutely no break from thinking about this, and it’s never been easier to write something.

Summary: A look into how you and Joel’s relationship is going two years in. Joel’s POV on his never-ending love for you and his extreme baby fever.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader/You (No y/n)

Tags: +18 Smut (MDNI!), Joel’s POV, domesticated Joel Miller, Sarah makes an appearance!!!, tooth-rotting love and fluff, they’re crazy about each other, talk about birth control and ovulation, pussy eating (joel is a cunning linguist), fingering, bit of praise kink, dirty talk, bit of body worship, breeding kink, daddy kink (if you squint real hard), slow and sensual piv sex, intense orgasms, creampie, God they are in love

Word count: 4k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/49183051

Song inspiration(!!!): Too Lost In You by Sugababes

Baby-Making

Joel comes home from work around the same time each day now — and it’s never after dinner time. He has made it his mission to make time for Sarah and you, cut down work since you moved in, because two working adults living in the house means that he can slow things down.

His health has improved, his mood too, his fatigue has practically gone and Sarah has had more time to just be a kid, started playing soccer again, and has even taken up coaching the little league team now that she’s 16. It’s good for him. You are good for him. For both of them.

He loves it. He takes the afternoon post-work ritual very seriously. Always texts if he should pick something up from the grocery store. Sometimes brings you flowers too, remembering that one time you’d said that you didn’t actually mind the cheap cellophane-wrapped bouquets.

It’s interesting to him how natural it feels for him to slip right into domestic bliss with you because he never thought that he would get there again after Sarah’s mother. On top of it, he never considered himself a gentle thing, but after you, it’s like you kiss the calluses of him away. He is nothing but gentle now, even in his roughness.

He throws the keys onto the side table by the front door after arriving home, shrugs off his jacket, and bends down to take off his boots. The sound makes you appear in the doorway. Joel notices that you’ve changed into gray sweatpants and a tank top with a strawberry on it since arriving home, basically removed anything from you that is professional and uncomfortable. Joel loves you like this because he is the only one who gets to enjoy you like this; relaxed and beautiful, hair in a messy bun on top of your head and fuzzy socks on your always-cold feet. He smiles at your radiance, then pads across the floor to kiss you hello.

There’s something in your eyes; a flicker of mischief as you grab his wrist to look at his watch. With a grin that nearly sets his heart into overdrive, you hold his hand up so he can look at the time too.

“It’s five minutes past,” you tut.

“Right, but I got ya something,” he says, reluctantly turning away from you to rummage through his jacket pocket. He fishes out a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup and you immediately snatch it from his hands, holding it close to your chest.

“Gremlin,” he teases and you stick out your tongue at him, “No needa hide it. ‘S too sweet for me anyway.”

“I shall save it for later then,” you walk to the kitchen and open the top cabinet that holds the mugs. You stand on your toes to reach into the very back, shirt riding up just a little, and stash the chocolate cup for later consumption.

“Hidden from Sa-rah, the candy thief,” you purposely pronounce her name wrong for dramatic purposes. Then you lower yourself onto the soles of your feet again, not bothering to pull your top down again. Joel watches the slight reveal of the dimples on your back.

“Right,” he chuckles.

Dear Lord, he loves you so much that it is ridiculous. In a way that makes the future look better than it ever has because it’s no longer filled with uncertainty. He knows what’s going to happen; he’ll build a house for the three of you, he’ll marry you in the Texan spring and he’ll give you as many babies as you want. He’d do it all today if he could.

“How was work?” You interrupt his thoughts by wrapping your soft hands around the nape of his neck, resting them there. You have rosy cheeks, feel warm against his skin, with love radiating from your fingertips.

“Good, told Tommy to handle the next few clients. Some hotshot guy comin’ into the office tomorrow,” Joel tells you, wrapping his arms around your waist and tugging you closer. He thinks that you don’t actually care about any of this, but there’s no indication of boredom on your face.

“He building a castle or something?” You ask.

“Somethin’ like that. Guy’s filthy rich but not from his own doin’, looking at blueprints at the end of the week. Should be interesting,” he continues, “Not that you care about that.”

“I do actually like hearing about your job,” you kiss him on the lips, peck them repeatedly until he cannot help himself and lifts you up to hug you tight. His arms rest along your back and his hands on your sides, fingers sprawled out underneath where your bra had been in the morning. You must’ve taken it off too. He loves you comfortable.

“You just love my hands,” he retorts, nose against your cheek, “Don’t deny it. I see right through ya.”

“It’s definitely not completely wrong,” you admit when he sets you down again.

You walk back to the kitchen, too tempted by the knowledge of what is in your kitchen cabinet. You only take half, proclaiming some bullshit that you have to watch out for your blood sugar since one can never know when it’s going to get you.

Joel rolls his eyes, following you, “I can give ya some sugar.”

“Joel Miller!” You pretend to look shocked. He tastes the peanut butter in your mouth, pushes you against the counter.

“Gross,” a teenage girl’s voice says.

“Oh right, Sarah’s home,” you announce sheepishly.

Joel pulls away to look at his daughter, “Hey kiddo. How was school?”

“You don’t care about that,” she smirks, “But if you must know, it was fine. No homework.”

“That don’t sound like Mrs. uhhh…”

“Green, it’s Ms. Green, Dad,” Sarah says dramatically as she moves across the floor to put on shoes. Her tone turns taunting, “Go ahead and make out with your girlfriend. I’m going to soccer practice.”

“Have fun, Sarah! We’ll have dinner ready,” you chime in.

“See ya, honey.”

The door closes behind her. The house grows quiet for a moment, but then the mischief is back in your eyes, “She’s seeing a boy.”

Joel nearly gets whiplash, not sure why his pulse spikes. He trusts his daughter to make good decisions and has taught her how since she was just a baby, “Nah, she ain’t. Just said she’s going to soccer practice.”

“Joel,” you sigh loudly, “It’s Tuesday.”

“So?”

“She has practice on Thursdays.”

“Christ,” he runs a hand over his stubble, tries to keep his composure, and ignores the urge to send her a text.

“But you know what?” You’re back in his personal space, tugging at his arms to make him hold you close again, “Such a fun coincidence. I’m also seeing a boy.”

Joel can feel the tension seeping out of him in an instant.

“Really? ‘Cause I’m seein’ a girl. She’s real pretty,” he wishes that he could show his past self how tooth-rottingly sweet he is being with you because he’d hate it. Though if past-Joel found out who he was treating like this, he’d instantly become a goner just like present-Joel is now.

“‘S her sweet tooth, unhinged behavior that I love the most though,” he continues.

You whine in his arms, lean your head back and it earns you a kiss on your neck, “Don’t be like that. Not when I’m ovulating. I’ll climb you like a tree.”

Oh.

It may seem innocent but Joel knows this is how you play dirty. It suddenly explains a lot. The sweatpants, the rosy cheeks, the way you glow, no bra, the cravings, why Joel wants you so bad.

Joel wouldn’t say that he is controlled by biology, and he hates the men trying to argue their way out of acting like cavemen. But looking at you right now in your stupid strawberry tank top, knowing that you’re horny and ready because your body wants to make him a daddy... Joel’s head swims.

Something shifts in the air. You can see it on him, but Joel assumes that you wait for him to act on whatever is bubbling up in his chest and below his belt.

And act, he does. He distracts you with deep, long kisses until he can snatch you up from the ground and carry you upstairs. You squeak out a giggle but don’t fight back, enjoying the freedom of being alone with him.

“That’s why you’re so fucking sexy,” Joel says after placing you on your shared bed. He is already shedding himself of his shirt, undressing hurriedly to get close to your skin with his own as quickly as possible.

You crawl back on the bed, untying the strings of your sweatpants and yanking them down your legs. You match his urgency, but still decide to tease him, “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Shut your mouth,” he yanks the rest of your pants off as soon as he is naked in front of you. He throws them in the pile of his own clothes, “You know exactly what I’m talking about, dirty girl.”

You’re just about to take your top off before Joel stops you with a hand curled around the hem. He knows you’re sensitive at this point in your cycle, but it’s not why he wants to keep it on, “I love how cute you are in this shirt. Keep it on like this.”

He crawls properly onto the bed to demonstrate and tugs the shirt up over your tits so he can still see the stupid animated fruit on the front. Afterward, he tugs your panties down your legs and off your feet. He will swear to a higher power that he can even smell it on you, sweet like strawberries and honey between your legs and it makes him feel like an animal.

He has had baby fever for a while now, even told you his plans on giving you a whole bunch of babies and you’ve merely giggled at him, especially when he told you that twins don’t run in his family, but he is sure that nature will give him a whole litter with you.

“Want me to eat you out?” He asks to which you whimper and nod. He doesn’t give you what you want right then and there, instead climbs up to cradle your head in his hands and gives you a long, slow kiss. He sucks on your tongue, hums into your mouth, and gets you worked up and wet before he’ll treat you right.

“Tell me,” he says when he breaks the kiss, nosing along the bunched-up fabric of his new favorite top of yours. He sucks at the skin between your breasts, places open-mouthed kisses along the swell of the left whilst cupping the right.

“I want you to eat my pussy,” you moan softly, running a hand over his hair as he licks a nipple. You slide your fingers into it, but you don’t tug at it unless you feel like you need to hold onto it for dear life.

“God, you’re the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” he growls before going further down your body, his spit leaving a shine where his mouth has been, “Can’t believe I own these tits.”

He goes further down, lets out a satisfied noise when he can see between your legs, “—and this pussy.”

“Yes, it’s yours, fuck, baby,” you sound delirious already, happy and eager to be touched, on the verge of a giggle even, “Joel, need your mou—“

You gasp loudly into the quiet bedroom. Joel has covered you with his mouth, eyes almost rolling back into his skull at the taste of your ripe cunt. He is too lost in you, a complete idiot with how head over heels he is for you, and he shows it by devouring you like he is starved.

“Baby!” You cry out, sensitive, “Fuuuck— just like that!”

He watches your thighs twitch in his peripheral, holds you down by placing a strong hand just below your belly button, and uses his thumb on said hand to pull the hood of your clit back. He sucks the little now-hard nub into his mouth, sending you into a state where he is unsure if you can even sense the sheets underneath you. If you had superpowers, he surely would’ve made you lift off the bed as if you were possessed.

He bobs his head a little, probably looking obscene as he hums against your clit and wiggles his head too. He looks up at you through his lashes, sees the red flush on your chest, and knows that you are close. Christ, he hasn’t been this into someone before.

“I’m gonna— you’re gonna make me—“ you say like always, announcing your departure from reality. He keeps going, feeling your stomach jump in a stuttering manner underneath his palm with how uneven your breathing has become.

“Fuck, I’m coming!” You sob with a yank of Joel’s hair and suddenly your thighs are shaking violently without your control. Joel can feel you coming before you announce it, your cunt clenching rapidly against his lips and your clit pulsing in his mouth as he sucks your folds into his mouth. You taste so good as a gush on slick smears his lips and chin even more. He laps it up.

You push him away when he gets too much, and he turns his head to kiss your inner thigh. You finally release the giggle that you’ve been suppressing, drunk on dopamine and Joel falls in love with you a bit more.

“You’re fucking incredible,” you say. The hand in his hair slides down so you can affectionately run your knuckles over his cheek. He responds by gently rubbing your thighs, soothing you on top of putting such strain on your heart and your breath. You hum, “I love you so much.”

Without warning, he smacks your thigh and you sit up straight. He grins, “Love ya too, sweetheart. Think you can give me one more before I fuck ya?”

“Jesus, what’s gotten into you?” You ask genuinely as you lower onto your back again.

“Wanna fuck a baby into you,” he replies, voice an octave lower than normal. He senses your shiver without having to look at your face, “Please. Wanna get her red and puffy so it fucking sticks.”

You let out an involuntary moan at the idea. You want this as much as him, he hopes, and he slides two fingers into your neglected pussy whilst he waits for the green light to fill you up. He crooks them upwards, fingers the spongy spot that only seems to have been discovered by him, “Lemme in. Lemme come in you.”

You’ve been off the pill for a while with the reasoning that it wasn’t doing any good for your body. Joel had stocked up on condoms since then, actually filled the top drawer of his nightstand to the brim because honey, we’re young and healthy, red-blooded Americans. But it had planted the idea in his mind that he could potentially knock you up, and suddenly the stash of condoms was being used rapidly.

“Okay,” you say with a half-moan, “Fuck, okay.”

Joel immediately sits up on his knees, still fucking you open on his hand. You squirm underneath his touch, trying to get a hold of your breathing this time, holding eye contact with him as he drags another orgasm from you.

It is much less hurried and a lot more intense, muscles clamping down on his digits rhythmically as you bite your lip and close your eyes with a soft gasp. He can’t decide if he finds this more sexy.

“Did you mean it?” He asks as he trails kisses up your belly. He kneels between your legs and places an elbow on either side of your chest so he can hold both your breasts in his hands. He squeezes them together, sucks on a nipple until you sigh deeply, and then watches them bounce back into place.

“Yes,” you say and your voice doesn’t sound unsure at all, “Fuck yes, I want your babies. Wanted them since I saw you. Want you to make me a mommy.”

“The prettiest momma out there,” he says, euphoria evident on his face. He slides his arms underneath you, rests his head on your breasts, and hugs you close to his chest, “Wanna fuck ya.”

“Please,” you say softly, spreading your legs open for him but he has other plans. He releases you from his arms to sit up again, spreading his knees a little. His hands wrap around your ankles to lift your legs up onto his shoulders, your feet behind his ears. He leans over you afterward and bends your flexible legs backward until the front of his thighs are against the back of yours. He can go deep like this, fill you up with his come how he has wanted to for months.

He takes hold of his cock, eases it inside of your spent and warm cunt inch by inch. You feel incredible around his dick without a piece of rubber separating the two of you. He can feel the head of his dick nudge at your cervix, moaning quietly as he is engulfed by your wet, pulsating heat.

“How are you still so fucking tight?” He groans, resting his forehead against your calf as he gives you a moment to adjust to the stretch. He knows he is big, gets a thrill out of how well you take him each time as if you were made specifically for him. There had been one time where he’d called you a trooper, and you had laughed so hard with his dick inside you that it had made him come.

“You feel so big like this,” you say as you look down between the two of you, already sounding out of breath. Joel kisses your calf repeatedly and softly, trying to soothe your overwhelmed body.

“Goddamn. You’re so sexy,” he praises, placing both hands on the sides of your head so he is hovering above you. He finds your hazy eyes, “Look at you.”

He gives an experimental roll of his hips that makes you whimper, both hands reaching for the backs of his knees. You hold onto him, staring up into his eyes with that siren-like look in them, and then you moan softly.

Joel starts fucking you desperately at that. He doesn’t hurry though, keeps his hips’ movements slow and sensual to have you moaning and gasping ever so slightly at the intensity. He knows he could just give in and fuck you rough and fast, but the heavy-lidded gaze that you are giving him with your mouth hanging open is too good to spoil.

“Joel,” you cry but it’s barely audible compared to what he sometimes drags from you. He can feel your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his thighs, creating half-moon shapes in the flesh. He switches to a rocking motion, and it sends your eyes rolling into the back of your head. You moan with your bottom lip between your teeth, “Mhm—“

“I know, baby, let it out,” he can see your pulse jumping wildly underneath the sensitive skin of your neck, feeling the heat of his orgasm pool at the base of his spine. He needs to be closer to you.

“Lift your legs down to the sides,” he tells you gently, thrusts coming to a halt and him realizing that you’ve heard absolutely nothing. He repeats himself, waits for you to follow his instructions, and then hooks his arms underneath your knees.

Joel gets closer to you by resting his weight on his elbows, his own body on top of your slightly contorted one. You reach for him, grabby hands in the air until he allows himself to be pulled in for a kiss. You cradle his face, make him feel safe in your arms.

“I love you, baby,” he breathes deeply. The new position gives him an opportunity to reach deeper inside of you, and it’s accompanied by each upward snap of his pelvis causing his cockhead to push into your g-spot. It makes it difficult for you to continue kissing him, eventually simply breathing into his mouth as he has you speared on his dick. Never once do you let go of his face, thumbs on his cheekbones, and tip of your nose against his.

“I love you,” you whisper, unable to catch your breath. Joel can feel your walls flutter around his dick, threatening to pull his own climax from him too soon. You pant, eyes burning, “You— baby, shit… you’re gonna make me come.”

“Yeah?” He speeds up a little, carding a hand through your hair and gently tugging on the bun. He coaxes you, “Gonna milk my cock into you? Make me a daddy?”

“Yeah,” you whimper wantonly, tightening your legs into his sides as you try moving with him, “Yeah, baby. Gonna make you a daddy! Fuckfuckfuck. Ah— I’m, I—“

Joel doesn’t know if he’s ever made you come like this; without all the muscle and rough touches, without the fast-paced snaps of his hips and the foul taunting from his mouth of how dirty you are. But come you do, with your brows furrowed, gaze on his and a controlled breathing that suddenly becomes erratic and uneven after you let out a high-pitched cry.

“That’s it,” he admires you, “So good f’me.”

You clamp down on his cock so hard that he sees stars, fucks you through each convulsion of your cunt. His mouth drips with filth as he works himself toward his own pleasure, “You make me so fucking horny, baby. Wanna knock— ngh, wanna knock this pretty pussy up all the time. Give ya a whole fuckin’ litter.”

He tips over the edge not long after, heart pounding in his chest and the sensation in his balls tightening. He releases with a groan, settles deep inside of you to make sure he doesn’t waste a single drop. His orgasm pulses through his cock, swirls in his belly, and warms the small of his back.

“Fuuuck,” he pants. He carefully removes his arms from underneath your legs before he collapses, allowing you to stretch out underneath him. You look completely fucked out, gasping feebly as he teasingly gives you another thrust before pulling out.

You wrap your arms around him as he falls onto you, nose against the shell of his ear. He can barely lift his head when you speak, humming into your neck that vibrates as you talk, “You think other people have sex this good?”

“Nah, ‘s why everyone is so fuckin’ miserable, why they gotta build mansions with their parents’ money,” he murmurs.

“Stop thinking about the hotshot client in bed,” you tease as you cradle his head in your arms, lifting your legs to wrap them around his waist. It seems you cannot get close enough, “You should only think about sticky, sweaty me.”

Joel finds that he doesn’t care about sticky, sweaty skin and you feeling like a furnace after three orgasms. He lays with you like this for a while, sure that you’ve drifted off to sleep at one point, until you push at his shoulder, voice back to your normal pitch as the post-orgasmic bliss has faded slowly, “Gotta pee.”

“Sure,” he rolls off of you. The sight of your waddle to the bathroom makes him smile, eyes following the way the fleshiest part of your ass and thighs jiggle with each step.

When you’ve closed the door behind you, Joel finds the strength to rid the bed of the dirty sheets and start dressing again. He’ll have a shower before bed, he decides, ignoring the sensitivity of sliding on boxers and jeans again.

Hurriedly, he bounces down the stairs to the kitchen. He gets the rest of your peanut butter cup, places it on the nightstand with your clothes right beside it.

He checks the time. There’s no point in trying to cook something up for dinner if Sarah is home from ‘practice’ soon, so he goes down into the kitchen to order pizza, heart thrumming in his chest as he hears you shout a thank you from upstairs at the discovery of the other half of your favorite snack. He is happy. So so happy.

Especially as he writes ‘pregnancy test’ into his Notes app shopping list.

@elissaaa @queerponcho @casa-boiardi @gracieispunk @hiddenbabynyc @hopelessromantic727 @livingdeadmaria @its-nebuleuse @milly-louise @cool-iguana @pawnshopbluess222 @joeldjarin @queenbrownie18 @scarletsloveletter @ladyburberry @swiftsgirlfriend @walkintotheriveranddisappear @sunnywithachanceofjavi @strang3lov3 @hellishjoel @toxicanonymity

Join my taglist

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller smut #joel miller imagine #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal smut #the last of us #joel miller fic #joel x reader #joel x you #tlou hbo #my writing #dilf!joel

1K notes · View notes

yourimagines · 3 months

Text

Roses

* English is not my first language I apologise

* Gif is not mine

* Triggers: Swearing and fluff

Summary: It’s valentine day and your Lando’s girlfriend

Y/n POV

“Baby are you ready to go?” He asks me as I was getting ready. “Yes, I’m coming.” I quickly grabbed my purse and walked downstairs. He was waiting for me, standing in the hallway with my jacket in his hands. “You ready?” I nodded and grabbed my jacket from him. “I’m ready.” He smiles and opens the door for me. “Then let’s go you muppet.” I giggled and walked to his McLaren. “What did you plan for us?” He shrugged his shoulders. “Don’t know.” I rolled my eyes at him and got in the car. “That’s bullcrap Lando.” He giggles and smiles at me. “Sorry but I can’t tell you, you have to wait.” I sighed and slowly nodded. “Okay..”

We both walked into that beautiful restaurant what I saw on instagram, he reserved a table for us. “Welcome mr Norris and miss Y/L/N, please follow me.” I looked at Lando and smiled as we both followed the waiter. We walked up a few stairs and walked into a beautiful room. My mouth fell open and I heard Lando chuckling. “This is your table for the night.” He gently pointed at our table. “Thank you.” The waiter helped me to sit down by slightly moving my chair for me. “Thank you.” I said with a friendly smile on my face. He nods and excuses himself. I grabbed Lando’s his hand. “Lando this is way too much.” He shook his head and grabbed my hand with his other one. “No it’s not, you liked this place right?” “Yes but look around Lando.”

“I have for the lady, the chef’s choice. It’s an oceanic dish with some bread and rice. For the gentleman I have the lamb with chips and bread.” He placed our dishes on the table. “I also have for the lady this wine that goes with the fish.” I nodded and he filled my glass. “Bon appétit.” He bowed and walked away. “I’m so sorry Lando, I didn’t know it would be fish.” He shook his head. “It’s okay.” I smiled and grabbed my glass. “I love you.” He grabbed his and toast it with mine. “I love you darling.”

“Oh look at it.” Our desserts were served and it looks good. “I know right?” Lando grabbed his phone and snapped a picture of me. “Lando… I wasn’t looking.” He smiles and puts his phone away. “I know.” I playfully slapped his hand. “Hey. It’s a cute picture.” I rubbed his hand and he gently grabbed mine, pulling it close to his mouth. He gently placed a soft kiss on the back of my hand and smiles. “I love you my little muppet.” He says with a grin on his face. “I love you as well my big muppet.” We both giggled and started to eat our final dish.

He was driving us back to his apartment. I was looking outside the window, totally in my own thoughts as I felt Lando’s hand on my thigh. I blushed and looked at him, he was looking in front of him but he was smiling like a big idiot. “What?” I asked him, he shook his head. “Nothing.” He chuckles and shoot me a quick wink at me. “Are you flirting with me?” I crossed my arms and waited for him to response. “No…maybe.” We both started to laugh. “Liar.” I said as he kissed the back of my hand. “I definitely was flirting..” “I know…”

Lando opens my door and I got out. “Thank you sir.” I gave him a polite nod and walked to the front door of the apartment building. “No problem miss.” He opens the door again and holds it open for me. “Thank you again.” I grabbed his hand and he smiles at me. “No problem..again.” We both giggled our way up to his apartment, looking like two kids having way too much fun. “I’m tired.” I say as he opens his door. “Yeah, you want to cuddle?” I nodded and walked in, I immediately walked to his living room and gasped. “Oh my goodness.” My hands were up to my face as I looked around the room, there were roses everywhere. “Lando.” I turned around and he was standing there with one rose in his hand, reaching it out to me. “Happy Valentine’s Day my love.” My eyes started to sting and I immediately hugged him. “You like it? I asked max if he could place this surprise for you.” I nodded and let out a soft sob. “Darling are you crying?” He carefully looked at me, holding my face with his hand. Tears were running down my cheeks and he smiles, wiping them gently away. “Oh baby…stop crying it makes me sad too.” I saw his eyes tearing up as well. “I’m sorry, nobody done this for me…I’m not sad, I’m happy.” I cracked a smile and he pulled me back into his chest. “Baby, I told you that I’m going to love you, this is just the beginning. I want to do more for you, I love you.” I pecked his chin and smiled. “I love you too.”

Lando was cleaning up Max his mess, as max thrown rose peddles through his apartment. “Maybe it’s a hint.” I said as I wrapped my arms around his waist. “It’s a bit stupid, it’s everywhere ” I giggled and kissed his back. “Lando, come to bed. I’m waiting for you.” I felt him relaxing as I kissed his back. “Okay, but we need to clean this up tomorrow. It will mould if we don’t. I rubbed his shoulders and gently pulled him away from the mess. “Come on, your girl wants you, don’t be a muppet.” He turns around and smiles. “She wants me?” I nodded and he scooped me up and carried me to his bed. I was laughing as he throws me on his bed. “Lando.” I squeaked out as he joins me, hovering over me. His necklace was dangling loosely around, I gently grabbed it and pulled him closer. Our lips connected together and with that we had a long night ahead of us….

209 notes · View notes

ist4rgirlo · 9 months

Text

─ 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐞𝐝 - 𝐜.𝐟 : 𝐈𝐕

Summary: Now that your life has turned upside down, are you still willing to put your siblings' feelings first? Or would you rather fight for your feelings and do what makes you happy regardless of the consequences that might result in the future?

Prev ; Next || Conrad Fisher x fem!reader || My blog

Warnings: S2 SPOILERS! fluff, swearing, yelling (lmk if i missed anything!)

SEQUEL TO BEFORE EVERYTHING HAPPENED

───────────────────────────

Y/n’s Pov

"God why is it so hot!" Taylor complained -- holding her hair up, fanning herself with her hands. "Well, Aunt Julia said that the AC is broken" Belly said walking in the kitchen.

"What? No fucking way!" Steven groaned. Aunt Julia walked inside the kitchen "Alright, today's open house is cancelled. I need you all out of the house before the AC guy gets here." Aunt Julia said — we all looked at each other, smiling.

"Great, let's go to the beach! We could go surf and all of that" Jeremiah suggested, I looked at him and nodded. "You guys should go.” Conrad said patting me. I looked up at him “What? what about you?” I asked him.

“I'm not leaving the house" Conrad said, shaking his head no. "Oh come one Conrad!” Jeremiah pushed, "I mean we can go to the mall, they have good ac" Taylor suggested - still using her hands to fan herself.

Conrad still shook his head no "Cool, have fun. But I didn't ditch finals just to leave this house-" — "Conrad, I am trying to keep my shit together" Aunt Julia said cutting Conrad off, placing the papers down on the table "You already ruined my day and I would at least appreciate it that you guys get out of my hair for a few hours." Aunt Julia continued — she was pissed.

Conrad was about to say something else but I grabbed his shoulder gently, calming him down not wanting him to say anything that'll ruin everyone's mood "You know, we can go to the boardwalk" Belly said, I looked at her and nodded. I looked back up at Conrad nodding at him. Everyone agreed.

I watched Skye sit down infront of Aunt Julia "Hey you should come with us, Skye" I suggested looking at them — smiling. "Oh uhm sounds very state fair plus I should just stay here with my mom.. right?" they said - turning to Aunt Julia for confirmation. Aunt Julia shook her head no.

"It wasn't my favorite but you should go" Aunt Julia smiled gently. Skye nodded "I guess I'm coming with you guys" they said with a smile — standing up, walking towards us.

"Great! let's go?" I asked all of them, they all agreed and started to walk towards the door. I felt an arm around my shoulder, "Thank you, Y/N" Conrad said, I looked up at him and nodded "Of course, Connie" I said putting an arm around his waist before walking towards the door.

TIME SKIP

We were now here at boardwalk, we all decided to buy some ice cream first just to cool off.

"I promise you'll have fun, Skye" I heard Belly say to Skye — trying to convince them somehow. Jeremiah scoffed "Fun? The last time we went here you were crying" he said teasing Belly.

"Hey I remember that! Susannah had to throw your clothes away after" I said, pointing at Belly — chuckling at her. "Hey! you were crying too" Conrad said, poking my arm. I shook my head no “Nuh uh! I wasn’t!” pushing him a little.

"You know, Susannah used to force my mom to go here when they were kids. My mom hated it but Susannah loved it" Skye said. Conrad looked at her before saying “You know what my mom also loves?" he paused "The beach house"

I went beside him and grabbed his shoulder gently "Connie" I whispered. "My mom's not evil, Conrad" Skye paused "And your mom wasn't a saint" Skye continued — raising her brows before going back to eating their ice cream. We all stopped walking, looking at Skye.

I sighed, "Skye, have you ever played shoot your shot?" Belly asked Skye, breaking the tension. "No, I think I'll keep it that way" Skye said, looking down — shaking their head.

"Omg you need to see us beat Conrad's ass" I chuckled — shrugging my shoulders, looking at Conrad who was already furrowing his brows at me. "You can never do that" Conrad said smirking. I squinted my eyes at him, "Oh really?" I teased more, “Yes” he hummed — looking at me before eating his ice cream.

"Oh come on you guys, not another great boardwalk showdown" Steven complained — poking my side. I pushed his hand away, slapping it “Stop!”

“So basically they have this thing where whenever they go here they would try to beat each other in shoot your shot” Taylor said. “Yeah every year, not until they got so competitive that my mom banned them from playing” Steven said chuckling — Conrad chuckled too, agreeing with Steven. “So is everyone in?” I asked — looking around. All of them agreed except for Skye.

“Uhm.. I should probably head out” Skye said, their voice quiet, “No you should stay” Conrad paused clearing his throat “It’s fun” I nodded at Skye. “You’re in our team now” I said, patting Skye — smiling.

“Okay, just so you know, I dont do high fives or trash talking” Skye infromed us — Belly nodded “Deal” Skye nodded back before asking “So what’s the prize?”

“Well the loser has to buy the winner the biggest bag of candy” Jeremiah said “Candy? can’t we have something that is a little more sexier?” Taylor suggested — shrugging her shoulder.

“You know, we can talk about the prizes later” I said raising my shoulders — looking at everyone. Conrad clapped “Alright! Let’s go?” he said before walking towards me putting an arm around my shoulder — I nodded and started to walk towards the arcade.

TIME SKIP

We played a variety of games, such as 'Shoot your shot', 'Go kart', 'Rock Climbing', 'Basketball' and even went to see Cam Cameron, who was with us the entire time. When the competition ended, our team lost. So it was either me or Belly who must ride the Tower of Terror as a punishment.

"Okay, you guys should do rock, paper, and scissors!” Steven suggested — clapping his hands, liking the scene of both of his sisters not liking the thought of riding the Tower of Terror. I looked at Belly — pressing my lips together. Her face filled with fear.

I clapped my hands “You know what! As the older sister, I’ll do it for you” I said winking at Belly before walking towards her — patting her shoulder. I walked towards the gate of the ride, I felt someone grab my shoulder “You know, you don’t need to do it alone right?” It was Conrad, smiling down at me. I looked up at him, confused.

“Come on, Y/N?” he said guiding me. He was going to ride it with me, “Let’s go!” they all yelled — clapping. We went in and got buckled in, I took a deep breathe. I felt Conrad’s hand against mine, I looked at our hands before looking at him. “You’re going to be alright, I’m here” he said — smiling gently before locking his hands with mine.

He was always there for me. When we were kids, he was always there for me, making sure that I did not feel left out. He was always by my side, including me whenever they played games. That's how he was, he never left me alone.

We just held hands the entire time - looking at each other smiling. Afterwards, we went down and high fived with everyone else and decided that it was time to head home.

───────────────────────────

Conrad’s Pov

We we’re now on our way home, I was in Steven’s car. The girls were in Jeremiah’s car. “You know, today was fun” Steven said, smiling. I nodded, agreeing with him “It was fun” I smiled.

Steven shrugged his shoulder, still smiling “I dont know, I haven’t seen you that happy for such a long time”

“Well it did feel good feeling like a little kid again” I paused “And that’s what mom probably wanted, was us to be happy again” I continued. “But today was good” I said nodding — smiling at Steven.

“Okay but I just couldn’t help but notice something between you and Y/N” Steven said — I looked at him confused. “What?” I asked. He went and slapped my shoulder gently “Oh come on! Let’s forget about the Belly thing, she’s my sister too but you know I just noticed that there was a vibe between you and Y/N” He smiled at me, raising his brows teasingly.

My smile couldn't be contained - it was good that it was somehow dark. “What?” Steven chuckled “Just an observation” he said. “Well..” I laughed “I appreciate it” I nodded before looking away from him — still smiling.

TIME SKIP

We were now here infront of the beach house, as we all started to walk towards the door, we heard Jeremiah yell “What the fuck!” so I immediately went and ran inside. I looked and my heart dropped, the house was empty.

There was nothing left, no furniture, no plants, no paintings. All the things that reminded us of mom were gone. We stood there trying to take everything in. Our world has been shattered. I felt someone hug me from behind, it was Y/N, crying, making my heart break even harder.

The worst part of today was returning home to this, everything gone. It broke me, it broke all of us - to see our house, my mom's house, empty. It was like pushing the truth that Mom is really gone.

───────────────────────────

taglist : @maybankslover @urmomisafinewoman @user3729107491 @melllinaa @anthgoldenhrry @arunabrak @amj2277 @whoisalexa @remuslupinwifee @gulphulp @layanderson @astrvalee @goldenmoonbeam @podiumprincess @johannelis2302nely @silcintilla @smw-96 @apollo3475 @drikawinchester @fangirl-kimora @sanjanapm @milyswrld @scysuxx @starkeylover @fallingforel @mysticalstarlightflower @ifilwtmfc @allnrsnz @yeosxxx @elvishoe69 @be4tric3s @users09 @mirrorwalls1989 @sunflowers1610 @rubes26

hope u guys like this one !! i’m still sick but i feel much better than yesterday :))

love lots !!

426 notes · View notes

morgana-larkin · 26 days

Note

Hey! Are you still taking prompts? If yes, can you write about r, a librarian that's like a ray of sunshine to everyone at Abbott. But not too much ray of sunshine like Janine and Jacob (more like UV light jk). Then one day, r arrived at Abbott so quiet, not in her usual self,like her sun is heavily clouded. In the break room she's like spacing out, they noticed it and when they asks her if she's alright she would just look at them with a neutral reaction and not talk to anyone,as in anyone much to Melissa's dismay as she tries to make you talk. She misses you talk about your day when she visits you at the library before leaving. Mr. J notices, since r usually gives him a high five when she sees him in the hall way. Even Ava, as she made a joke and everyone laughed but you just gave her a blank stare and leave the break room. They thought r just needs space so they let her be. Then a day of being like that became a week, shutting people down and now the staff are worried, so Melissa decided to finally take the matter in her hands and helps R to finally snap out of the state she's in.

Thank you so much for this prompt! And yes my inbox is open for prompts. I thought this idea was cute and I hope you like it. Not edited in the slightest. I wrote this in more of Melissa’s POV but I don’t think any of you will mind.

Her Poco Sole (little sunshine)

Warnings: reader trapped in their head but that’s pretty much it.

Words: 2.6k

It’s Friday morning and you walk into Abbott with a smile on your face as always. You’re the librarian at Abbott Elementary and you love it. The kids are great, the staff is amazing, and you’ve never been happier. You see Mr Johnson and as always you raise your hand up for a high five and he happily gives you one.

You arrive in the break room and everyone is already there. You cross the break room to the fridge to put your lunch in there. “Good Morning everyone. Any weekend plans?” You ask everyone as you go to make a coffee.

At that, everyone shares any interesting plans that they have for the weekend. As you finish making your coffee you go to sit at Barb and Melissa’s table like always as Jacob finishes telling his plans and you smile at him as you listened.

“What about you Melissa? Got a hot date? Tv marathon? Seeing family and friends?” You ask her and she looks at you with a smile.

“What makes you think I have a hot date?” She asks.

“A little presumptuous of me then, alright got a normal date then?” You ask her and she snorts.

“You’re such a goof. No date this weekend. Unless you count my couch.” She jokes and you laugh.

“I would think that counts as a date.” You tell her. Then you engage in conversation with Melissa and Barb until the bell rings, and you all get up to start the day.

The day goes by and it’s spent organising and checking out books for kids. At lunch, you head to the breakroom and get your lunch and sit at your regular seat, beside Melissa, and start eating. The rest of the crew comes in a couple minutes later, as well as Ava.

“Hey y/n, I’m going to the club tomorrow tonight, wanna come?” Ava asks.

“Ava, the last time I went with you, you forced me to talk to a girl there and she was straight. So I think I’ll say no.” You tell her with a shake of your head. Ava looks at you and laughs.

“What if I promise that I won’t force you to talk to any girls?” She asks.

“I think I’ll sit this one out Ava, I got big plans to laze around and do nothing.” You tell her.

“You and I got similar plans, we should do it together.” Melissa says and you look at her with a smile.

“You got a date though.” You joke with her and she laughs.

“Hun, I can drop the date with my couch if I wanted, I’m sure it won’t be disappointed.” She says and you roll your eyes.

Lunch ends and you all get up to finish the second part of the day.

At the end of the day, you’re putting a book back in its rightful place when Melissa walks in.

“Hey you.” She says as she walks in.

“Hey yourself.” You reply back to her with a smile.

“How was your day?” She asks.

“It was good.” You then proceed to tell her all about your day. You tell her interesting things that the kids said or did, interesting gossip from teachers and everything else in between. Melissa looks at you the entire time with a smile as she listens. She always loves it when you tell her about your day, you always talk so passionately. “Anyway I’m rambling, how was your day?” You ask her.

Melissa proceeds to tell you all about her day as you both exit the library and you lock up. This is a little routine you both have at the end of the day. You both look forward to it, you tell each other every little thing about your day as you walk to you cars.

Melissa didn’t like you at first, she thought you were too cheerful and happy like Janine is. But she learned that while you are cheerful, it's not annoying like it is with Janine or even Jacob. She learned to love how happy and nice you are with her and everyone else, poco sole she likes to call you, which is little sunshine.

You end up just staying at your place that weekend instead of taking Melissa up on her offer, you sometimes do and you both always enjoy it.

Then Monday morning comes, and you drag your feet in through the doors of Abbott, the usual smile on your face is replaced with a frown. You pass right by Mr Johnson and you don’t offer a high five and he looks at you weirdly.

You enter the break room and you cross over to the fridge to put your lunch and get a coffee. Everyone sees that you don’t have a pep to your step and your usual smile. As you get your coffee ready, you're looking at your phone as Melissa speaks up.

“Hey poco sole, you alright there?” She asks and you look up at her then go back to your phone without answering her. She looks at you confused, as well as everyone else. Once your coffee is done, you pour it in your mug then you sit down at your usual spot. Melissa looks at you as she tried again.

“How was your weekend?” She asks you. You just look at her and shrug. Melissa looks at Barb worriedly. You’re never like this, this isn’t you. Before anyone could say anything else, Ava walks in and she pours some of the coffee in her mug.

“Y/n, there were a lot of cute girls at the club, you missed out, although I would have had you do karaoke.” She says and everyone laughs, they know you’re a bit shy singing in front of a crowd. Everyone laughs except you, you just look at Ava with a blank stare and then get up and leave. You pass by Mr Johnson on your way out and once again, you don’t offer a high five.

“What’s going on with y/n? She doesn’t seem like herself.” Mr Johnson says and everyone looks at Melissa who’s the closest to you.

Melissa doesn’t know, you were fine on Friday, and you two texted on Saturday and Sunday like always and everything seemed fine. “I- I don’t know.” Melissa says and she’s worried about you. She’ll try again at lunch, maybe you’re just not having the best morning, it happens to everyone she thinks.

At lunch your mood didn’t change, in fact it seemed it got worse. You seemed like you were in your own head the entire time, and if anyone talked to you or asked a question, you would just stare at them for a few seconds and go back to what you were doing or just ignore them. Everyone decided that maybe you just need some space as maybe you’re having a rough day but then you’ll be back to your usual smiling self tomorrow.

You were not back to your smiling self tomorrow. You came in again the same way, Mr Johnson sees you and you’re still not smiling and he sighs. Everyone else in the break room stopped what they were doing when you walked in. They all hoped you would be back to yourself again but no. Melissa was getting worried, she went to the library after school yesterday like always and you had already left. She didn’t like seeing you like this, the worst part is you didn’t seem sad, you seemed disconnected, like you aren’t even here. You were supposed to be her poca sole and right now you aren’t, and it broke her heart a little.

Melissa knew she had gotten feelings for you, I mean how can she not when you are how you are. Always smiling when you talk to someone, always listening to people talk with 100% of your attention, and she loves how passionate you are about even the smallest things. You always brought a smile to her face, no matter the mood she was in, and she wanted to do that for you.

At lunch she went to the library when you didn’t show up and when she tried talking to you, you just looked at her with a blank stare and went back to what you were doing. She gave up after several attempts and went to talk to Barb, “maybe she just needs some time Melissa. I’m sure she’ll be back to herself when whatever it is passes” Barb told her. So Melissa did just that. She didn’t talk to you when you sat down, she didn’t go to the library after school, she didn’t text you that she got home safely like always, that usually sparks an hour conversation over text.

And soon, the week goes by and it’s Friday and you’re still not back to yourself. Melissa misses you, she knows that you’re going through something and you’re not telling her, you and her tell each other everything. So she takes matters into her own hands. Friday after school, she goes home and grab’s leftovers from yesterday and then heads to your place.

She knocks on your door and you answer about 30 seconds later. And you have the same look on your face as you have had at school all week. Still she gives you a smile and offers food. And you just stare at her, not talking.

“Can I come in? I can heat this up and we can eat and watch tv.” You just step aside to let her in, Melissa thinks it’s a start, she will literally take anything.

Melissa heats up the leftovers and puts half on a plate for you and half on another plate for herself. She comes to the couch where you already are and she hands it to you with a smile. You take it from here with just a simple “thank you.” Even when you seem disconnected, you will always say thank you, it’s automatic. And again, Melissa will take it. She misses you so much that a simple ‘thank you’ from you makes her happy.

After you both finish eating and the episode of the show you're watching ends, Melissa has had enough. She sets the plates down on your coffee table, turns off the tv and looks over at you. You just stare at her with that blank expression you’ve had all week.

“What’s going on with you y/n? You seem so disconnected that it feels like you’re not even here even though you’re sitting right beside me. And not just today, you’ve been like that all week. You don’t talk to anyone anymore, you don’t come in with your bright smile and uplifting spirit. Mr Johnson says you don’t give him high fives anymore and you don’t laugh at Ava’s jokes like you usually do. And you know what? I miss you, I miss when you come in with that beautiful smile and ask me anything, our conversations at lunch , and especially our chats after school when I come and visit you in the library. And I also miss our little texting chats after school and on the weekend I miss hanging out with you or texting you.” She finishes and when she looks at you , you’re still just looking at her with that blank stare, the only difference is that you keep looking down at your hands.

And that makes Melissa break, she starts crying. You don’t know what to do, you’re not yourself right now but to your core you’re still her poco sole. You put one of your hands in hers and then you just continue to stare at nothing in front of you, still holding her hand.

Melissa is surprised when you hold her hand and it makes her stop mid sob and she sniffs. She realises that you’re still there but maybe trapped in your own mind. She’s heard about people that have done that , and they said that they just woke up unhappy about anything for no real reason and they detach themselves from reality. She remembers that a shock helped them, something that broke them out and snapped them back to reality, something real. So Melissa does the first thing she thinks of, she reaches over , pulls you to her and embraces you in a tight hug. “Please come back to me y/n, please.” Melissa begs while still hugging you.

And then she feels arms wrap around her, hugging her back. She pulls back to look at you and you have the smallest little smile she’s ever seen and your eyes aren’t blank. “Y/n?” Is all she says.

You look at her. “Hi Melissa.” You say. And she covers her mouth in shock and happy tears start rolling down her face. You’re coming back to her. She gets so excited that she leans over and kisses you on the lips and you freeze for a second, you pull her more to you when she goes to pull away and you kiss her back. And Melissa melts into the kiss, she’s been missing you all week and kept her feelings to herself about you for about 4 months. And while she’s happy this is happening, she wants to make sure she truly has you back. She pulls back and looks into your eyes, and she sees the familiar light behind them you always had and she smiles at you. “You came back to me.” She says and for the first time in a week, you smile at her, your usual genuine smile. “Are you ok?” She asks you suddenly.

“I think I am now. I didn't know what was going on, I woke up and suddenly felt nothing, I didn’t feel anything and it scared me but it didn’t stop so I guess I hid in my own mind, tried to find something, feel something. And then I saw you crying and a spark came, a spark of sadness and so I held your hand, and then you hugged me and my whole body

felt happiness again. The kiss was a nice add on. You tell her and she looks at you smiling, she’s glad to have her poco sole back.

Monday morning, you walk in the entrance with a smile and your usual pep to your step is back. You see Mr Johnson and he looks up and sees you smiling. You then raise your hand for a high five and he excitedly gives you one, happy that your back.

You walk into the break room and everyone is either on their phones or talking to each other, Melissa sees you though and she smiles at you, and you smile at her. You walk over to the fridge “hey everyone, did you have a nice weekend?” You ask and everyone looks up at you and sees you smile as you pour some coffee in your mug. And everyone smiles at you.

“Y/N! You’re back!” Jacob says and you nod as he runs over and gives you a hug. “We were worried about you!” He says

“Ik, I hope I didn’t freak you out too much.” You joke as you sit in your usual seat. You look a Barb who gives you a smile with a “welcome back sweetheart.”.

Melissa is still looking at you with a smile. She then tucks a lock of hair behind your ear and you smile at her. Everyone sees the interaction and smiles then goes back to what they were doing.

Melissa doesn’t care if they know, all that she cares about is that you came back to her, her poco sole.

Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta ,@imaginesmultifandoms

If you wish to be added, then let me know!

#melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x oc #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti #x reader #fanfic

133 notes · View notes

itsplumwriter · 4 months

Text

Worst Nightmare

POV: Bucky has a nightmare he has hurt his entire family, but has no memory of doing so.

A/N: So this was intense... I love that it's a dream but we have y/n's perspective as if it's real. I think this would be Bucky's worst nightmare if he had a family. I can't wait to write a part ii for this! Would you guys like to see that? (:

Warnings: wounds, blood, nightmare, implied children attack

—-

Bucky pulls into the driveway. He can't quite remember the drive home or what he was doing right before he got there, but his mind is fixated on changing out of his dirt-ridden uniform as quickly as possible and eating the spaghetti you promised you’d make him when he came home.

His shoulders relax as he approaches the door, fumbling for his keys.

“I’m home,” he calls out, tossing his keys in the entryway table bowl and dropping his work bag.

The lack of an immediate answer was a little odd. The announcement that he was home usually sent the boys rushing towards him at least.

“Doll?” he calls upstairs. No response.

It was strange, the house being so silent.

Then he hears a strained whimpering from the kitchen. He bolts towards it.

“Honey?!”

When he rounds the corner, his eyes widen.

You were on the floor, clutching your stomach. Blood everywhere.

Bucky rushes to you. “Y/n!! What happened??”

“Bucky... The kids...” you utter, as he eyes the large gash pooling blood on your abdomen.

“Your stomach...” he utters in horror, unable to focus on anything else.

He grabs the kitchen towel, trying to put pressure on your wound.

“James...” you say, grabbing his hands. “Check the boys... Upstairs...”

He stares at you, his eyes now red. He doesn't want to leave you, but he knows you won’t forgive him if he doesn’t put the kids first.

He secures the towel in place. “Keep the pressure on it.”

He runs up the stairs, two at a time.

He bursts into their room. “Boys!?”

Bucky falls to his knees when he sees what happened to them.

---

You’d been sitting on the kitchen floor, breath hitching, barely hanging on, drifting in and out... but you needed to hear what happened to your kids.

You hear Bucky storm down the stairs. You’re not sure if you’ll be able to speak, but you’ll be able to tell from his face the status of your children.

So when he enters the kitchen and he can’t even look you in the eye, you immediately start crying.

You squeeze your eyes shut, tears burning through. It feels as though your heart’s been ripped out of your chest, worse than any pain from your injuries.

“It’s gonna be okay...” Bucky says. “You hear me?”

Bucky kneels beside you, gripping your shoulders, trying to ground you. You were inconsolable. You couldn’t even catch a breath.

He inspects your wound, eyes widening when he sees the towel hasn’t done anything, completely soaking in blood.

He looks down, trying to think. “I can fix this.”

You shake your head.

Bucky tries to carry you. “Please let me fix this.”

You push him away. You refuse to let him take you to a hospital. You already know it's no use.

Bucky sits beside you, defeated. He rolls his head back, the tears stinging his eyes. “This can’t be happening. Why did this have to happen?”

He buries his head in your neck, crying softly. "I can't lose you too."

You’re really weak, but you manage to rest your head on his shoulder. As soon as you do, his whole body shakes with sorrow.

The two of you sit on the kitchen floor, accepting the reality of it.

Suddenly, he pulls back his tears and takes a deep breath. He takes your hand and squeezes it tight. “Honey, who did this...”

Your eyes widen, shaking your head.

Bucky takes both your hands and puts them in his. “Honey, please. You need to tell me.”

You press your lips together, burning tears streaming down your face.

Bucky narrows his gaze, confused as to why you won’t tell him. “Honey, just tell me.”

You look him in his watery eyes. You hesitate for as long as you can. You weren’t gonna tell him. You told yourself you weren’t gonna tell him. His pleading blue eyes squeeze it out of you.

“You did.”

--- --- ---

Part ii on my Patreon!: https://www.patreon.com/itsplumwriter

Follow me on insta!: https://www.instagram.com/itsplumwriter

i really hope you guys liked it!! I love u and God bless you, dolls!

119 notes · View notes

avonne-writes · 2 months

Text

Lunch break

(High school AU, Brady’s POV, Buck has long hair. I'm writing a complete fic in this verse, but I had a conversation with @hogans-heroes that inspired this drabble 💕)

Johnny falls into his usual chair in the cafeteria with a heavy sigh. It’s Monday, undoubtedly the worst day of the week, and he has just had double Trigonometry with Bucky. That’s like having two classes at once, one about triangles and shit, and another in parallel with that on how Buck makes his sandwiches. Or how he leaves strands of his long hair on Bucky’s pillow. TMI, if anyone were to ask him, but no one bothered with that even once since fate decided he should be John Egan's friend.

Whatever. It’s lunchtime. He's starving. He tucks into his fries with an enthusiasm that makes Benny laugh at him from across the table, and he holds up his middle finger in response. Someone claps him on the shoulder, and he hears Curt's rambling, periodically interspersed with swear words as if they stood in for punctuation marks. If Curt sits next to him, it means Buck and Bucky are going to take the chairs beside Benny, which Johnny doesn’t miss to rub in with a smirk shot in Benny's direction. It’s a 50-50 with those two, whether they're a blast to be around or permanent third wheel pain, but it's usually worse in the beginning of the week because they spend the weekends lost in their own little world.

Benny makes a deadpan face at him just as Bucky's tray lands on the table beside him, as predicted.

"Just saying." Bucky continues making some kind of point to Buck, who doesn’t comment on it with more than a playfully raised eyebrow. He rolls a brown hair tie off his wrist and puts his blond hair up in a messy bun. Bucky might as well be eating him for lunch, with the way he’s practically drooling at him.

"It’s something." He says.

"Hm-m." Buck hums and puts his arm on the back of Bucky's chair, behind Bucky's back. They look at each other, seemingly still in conversation although neither says a word, then Bucky breaks into a blindingly happy grin and reaches out to squeeze Buck's cheeks.

Curt gags with an exaggerated, gross sound. "All right, all right, knock it off, there are kids present." He gestures at Johnny.

Johnny shoves at him, smiling. "Fuck you." Curt grins back.

"Aw, don't be jealous, Curtie, you can still be my little spoon." Bucky winks at Curt even though his hand is clearly on Buck's thigh under the table. Buck, for his part, ignores them both and starts eating with the hand not draped behind his boyfriend.

"Hey, I'm the big spoon here." Curt returns, then launches into another story, something about a giant wasp nest video he saw the other day. Benny automatically perks up at the mention of animals, no matter how creepy, and he leans forward in his seat as he and Curt start talking over each other about it.

Johnny can’t say he’s interested. He puts another handful of fries in his mouth and glances at the opposite corner of the table. Buck and Bucky are staring at each other again until Buck mouths a word that Johnny can’t hear, something that causes Bucky to burst into near manic cackling. In contrast to the volume of his laugh, Bucky's reply is a whisper that makes Buck grin at his plate.

"It’s something." Buck drawls in his enviably low voice, and Bucky smiles ever wider before leaning in close and pressing a kiss to Buck's lips.

Curt throws a napkin at them. "Hey, I wanna eat here!"

Johnny raises his eyebrows in exasperation and shakes his head at his plate. Mondays, right?

#mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #john brady #curtis biddick #benny demarco #hs au

84 notes · View notes

anonymous-dentist · 3 months

Text

Honestly idc about the Tallulah vs Sunny vs Leo babyfight going on because, really, that kind of stuff is just what little girls do.

I work in childcare professionally and seasonally- specifically with 9-10 year olds- and it’s gotten to the point where my higher-ups ended up telling everyone that it isn’t our job to sort out the Little Girl Drama because it happens so often! At least once a day we have at least one group of girls have a dramatic friendship argument that will drastically shape their lives forever, and then they’re best friends again the next day. Little girls can be full of such hatred that is only ever seen otherwise in angry NFL fans after a bad ref call, it’s INSANE.

So Tallulah and Sunny not getting along? And Tallulah actually being pretty mature for a little girl and being all “We can’t be friends yet, but maybe in the future when I’m in a better place” and seemingly working on herself and her problems before tackling the Sunny Problem? That’s chill, 10x more mature than the way the girls at work can be

Leo and Sunny not getting along? Now that’s realistic. Sometimes kids just don’t like each other. You can’t force people to be friends, children included. Doing that just makes the kids hate each other more, especially when one of the kids is as traumatized and depressed as Leo is.

And then both Tallulah and Leo hanging with Empanada and Pepito but not with Sunny? Again, that’s normal for little kids, especially considering how both Tallulah and Leo may have seen/are currently seeing Sunny as an antagonistic force.

Sure, it makes sense that Sunny is hurt by all this, and that’s when an adult figure should step in: when the kid starts to cry and act out aggressively. She’s in a bad situation here, but so is Leo. Sunny fans have gotta start considering Leo’s pov and stop insulting her and her admin, and so on.

If this entire scenario was happening in a school?

Leo and Sunny would be kept apart at all times. Different tables, desks, whatever the classroom uses. Don’t pair them up for activities, and keep them across the room from each other. They don’t get an option in this because of how they antagonize each other.

Tallulah, though, would probably get an option. She’d be allowed to play with Sunny during recess or gym time if she and Sunny can both promise to play nice, and they might even be allowed to eat lunch together depending on how their behavior’s been that day. This is because of the open communication these two kinda have going on; Little Girl Drama isn’t always a constant, sometimes there’s moments of peace within.

This is all to say: this babyfight stuff is awesome because it’s the single most realistic depiction of Little Girl Drama/Friendship I’ve seen in my LIFE, and I’m saying this as someone who works in childcare for a living who has had to deal with Little Girl Drama for years at this point. It’s actually super impressive!! Kudos to the admins, they’re doing great!!!

103 notes · View notes

lokisrealpurpous · 5 months

Text

words hurt like a blade

pt1

father!loki x daughter!reader

warnings: bullying, sh, mentions of sewersl*de, mentions of scars, description of blood and wounds, angst, mention of weight.

description

when loki finds out his little girl isn't dealing with things well, falling into dangerous habits that he once did too, he does everything to try and look after her.

☆ please please do not read this if you find anything in the warnings list at all triggering, keep yourself safe and I'm always here if anyone needs me or just needs someone to message ☆

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

your pov:

After my father had gained the trust of the Avengers we've stayed at the tower, it was a new start which meant: new schools, new people and a completely changed routine, it was draining.

I joint the high school that Parker went to, he was a close friend, being the only other kid my age on the team, and tried everything he could to help me fit in, but as fate leads the path, I was the target of everyone that walked into my life.

As the days moved on antagonisingly slowly it got worse and worse, it began with names, roumers, nudges and smirks but was becoming more than just a lurking shadow, it hurt, it was exhausting.

"sort your face out"

"you alright fatty?"

"just kill yourself"

"cut your arms open"

It was the same threats everyday, along with fights and pushing and shoving and arguments.. getting worse... and worse as the weeks went by. It wasn't just a voice i could ignore anymore.

I began to not go into school, I stopped eating or I ate too much, I struggled to brush my hair, brush my teeth, shower, all the hope of that once little girl inside me had been burnt. Words hurt like a blade..

2 years clean.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

lokis pov:

I knew something was going on. The circles under her eyes were painted black, her hair was in dreads and her body was slow and achey. She refused to go into school and she rarely came out her room, and every now and then she'd be sick, but ive just brushed it off as anxiety.

I missed my little girl, my todler running in fits of giggles around The Gardens of Asgard Castle. The way her face was always illuminated with joy, the only tears that every stained her face was from happiness or a graze. I had gone wrong.. I know I have at some point, she's in pieces that neither of us know how to put back together but I'll always be there with the glue to seal the cracks.. she's my princess and she always will be.

The setting sun casted a golden brushstroke across the towers corridors, I haven't heard from y/n all day, not for food, nor anything, so I slowly paced down the silent rooms to her door, knocking gently as I twisted the handle.

your pov:

My breath was caught in my throat, strangled as the harsh words tangled in my head. I gasped for air as tears flooded down my crimson cheeks, desperately rummaging through my beside drawers with shakey hands.

where was it...

I mumbled, merely a whisper.

where is my b..

there it was. I felt the cold metal against my fingertips, the small blade burning my skin with fear and defeat.

2 years clean.

I pulled up my sleeve desperately and stared holes into my arms, only then to press the small razor against my arm.. deeper and deeper... then dragging it across the frail skin which cried sepia teardrops.

My eyes winced in pain, but my shoulders fell in relief, like the tension breathed through the cuts that patterned my arm. 1...2...3...4. The sence of control betrayed me as I cut over and over again, they faded white before they painted my arms red and the salty tears that clung onto my lashes fell with no sympathy as they sung the fresh cuts.

14... 15... 16...

then there was a knock.. shit.

I fumbled with the stomach twisting scene before me, the blade fell onto the icy wooden floor and the once white bedsheets were ruined with the blood of self pity. I gasped between clenched teeth as I pulled down my sleeve over the deep cuts.. and grabbed a book off the table next to me.. it was too late to grab the razor below me.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

lokis pov:

my heart sunk to my legs. the sheets were red. her eyes were irritated and rashed, her hands were shaking violently and her lip was quivering subtlety. Swiftly my eyes wandered over to see the blood dripping knife on the floor.. a small puddle dripping through the floor boards.. my angel.

I went to walk towards her but my body was trapped in a paralysis of fear and guilt, seeing her eyes overwhelmed with such emotion tore me to peaces. How could she have done this to herself.

what have you done..

I whispered, loud enough for her to hear me, evident when her voice cracked into antagonising sobs.

I ran over to her vulnerable frame and took her limp, exhausted body into my arms, protecting her in a tight embrace. I felt the blood stain my shirt as it seeped through the fabric of her jumper, but ignored it as I rocked her shaken figure back and forth.

oh my angel

I said as I brushed strands of hair behind her ears.

why.. why would you do this...

All I could hear was whimpers and sniffles coming from her, tilting her chin up to look at me.

I'm here... I'm here...

I say softly and I hold her face in my cold hands.

May I?

I ask as I hold the end of her sleeve, when she nods I slowly pull it up, my eyes widening and my throst strangling me as the deep cuts were revealed.

your pov:

as he rolled up the sleve guilt drowned me.. I felt sick as I saw how deep the cuts were, and the terror on my father's face. My head felt faint and the blood continued to stream down my arm.. the last thing I saw was the corner of my eyes bluring black and myself falling into my fathers tense arms.

The next time I woke up, bright lights of the healers room pieced through my eyes, my head was pounding and everything was spinning in parades of colour and movement. my eyes trailed off to my arms which were bandaged, underneath I could feel the stitched that were sown through my wounded skin. To my left there was a moniter and my iron levels, they were life threateningly low, also told by my exhaustion, pale colour and excruciating headache. Then my eyes landed on my father, he was sat asleep on a chair infront of me, in the same clothes he was in the night it happened... however I had no clue how long ago that was. As he felt my consciousness he woke and rushed to my side.

are you alright princess?

he asked, his worry stabbing my heart. I nodded weakly and gave him a soft smile as he ran his hands through my hair.

you're safe.. you're going to be okay... I'm here I promise. Angel please come to me before you ever do anything like this... no matter what I am doing you come to me and I can help you.. I know what it's like.. I've been close to where you are and darling I cannot bare to loose you. I love you.

His voice broke and he clung onto me as to never let me go.

I knew then that I was safe with him.. but I had alot to question for once better.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

106 notes · View notes

urhoneycombwitch · 4 months

Text

witch of ages, cleft for me [part I]

🍯 honey flavour: Christmas-themed fluff and comfort

🐝 the bees: Eddie x greenwitch!reader, ft. The Gang (special appearance by Max Mayfield herself)

wc: 3.8k

Content warnings: weed mention, cussing, reader is given a nickname (Poppy), fem verbiage/motifs used for reader, r is a witch with a troubled home life, fluff, pov Eddie for part I.

foreword: new series alerrrrrt. self-inserty? MAYHAPS. I’ve endeavored to keep reader neutral enough for general x reader purposes while still givin’ her some flavour. please lmk if I need to update the cw to make things more clear. smut in later chapters planned so MDNI. happy readin’!

Christmas has never been Eddie’s favorite holiday.

When he was a kid, and his mom was still around, sure- he’d do the whole peppermint sticks in cocoa, snowman-making schtick, but that was ‘cuz his mom was his favorite person and, well, shit, he didn’t have any Scrooge-like tendencies back then. He was just a kid.

The lack of holiday cheer came later, settled in around teenage-dom, never quite left. Eddie can count on one hand the number of memorable Christmases he’s had, and this one sure won’t be added to the list.

Wayne had made a valiant effort that morning to distribute the cheer- holiday radio buzzing tinny over the stove while he flipped pancakes for the two of them. Didn’t even grouse at Eddie for taking a premature smoke break. Over breakfast, he’d slid a brown paper-wrapped parcel across the table and said, “Merry Christmas.”

“Wayne,” Eddie teased, slamming a hand in the middle of his chest, syrupy palm sticking to the old band t-shirt he was wearing- “I thought we said no gifts. You’re going soft on me, old man.”

“Old man my ass,” Wayne had muttered, but Eddie was already tearing into the paper.

It was a killer gift. Special edition Tolkein, bound in red leather, gold lettering and vines curling around the sides.

Eddie was stunned into silence as he turned the book over in his hands. Wayned tapped the edge of the chipped mug he held, thoughtfully.

“You survived this year, boy. That’s something to celebrate.”

Clearing his throat that’d gone stuffy with emotion, Eddie flipped through the pages reverently. “Well, shit. I keep up my living streak and you get me a sword replica next year, that what you’re tellin’ me?”

Wayne had chuckled, then risen from the table to ruffle his nephew’s hair. “Don’t push your luck, kid.”

He’d offered to take Eddie along on his Christmas Day Drive (as he’d called it, which was actually just code for Wayne and his fishing buddies getting sloshed on schnapps in some dingy Hawkins living room), but Eddie had declined (assuring Wayne that no, actually, he wasn’t gonna be moping around the house- in fact, Steve’s throwing a party and he’s gonna go).

Which they both knew was code for Eddie staying home and getting high. Wayne took his time getting out the door, shuffling around the kitchen, instructing Eddie to eat something in his absence, finally taking off in that rickety excuse for a pickup just before noon.

Which suited Eddie fine. Really. He was sprawled out on the couch now, arms lax above his head, dozing catlike, thinking about lighting up one of those joints rolling around under his bed. Trying not to think about you.

And sure, yeah, maybe he stayed home ‘cuz he was hoping you’ll call. The holidays are making him sentimental, not pathetic.

‘Kay, maybe a little pathetic.

You’d been over at the trailer last night, curled into his side on the couch while Wayne snoozed in the corner chair, It’s A Wonderful Life playing for no one in particular, when you’d told him quietly that you weren’t gonna be around the next day.

“You mean for Christmas?” He’d asked, rubbing a smooth path up and down your arm. “How come?”

Your fingers plucked a steady rhythm at one of his shirt buttons, head resting on his chest, so all he saw was the crown of your head while you explained. “I mean, I’d rather be here. With you and Wayne. It’s just… my dad asked me to hang out. And he never does, yanno? Least I can do is give my old man a few hours to try and make it up to me.”

Eddie was quiet for a bit. Even though you knew about his turbulent familial life (god knows he’d told you more about it than anyone else in his life- your fault for being such a goddamn good listener), he didn’t think a lecture about how disappointing fathers could be was quite appropriate.

So he’d said “Sure, sweetheart, if that’s what you want,” and he’d kissed the top of your head, breathing in that earthy blend of cardamom and sweet mint that you’d tapped into your skin that morning, and you’d thanked him for understanding and gave him a kiss so soft he could’ve cried.

You looked like you were going to cry, yourself, saying goodbye later that night in the doorway, backlit dreamily with soft streetlamps, arms wrapped tight around your frame to keep out the cold.

He’d kissed you goodbye once, twice, got a little goofy with it and pressed quick manic kisses across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, your eyelids that were scrunched with amusement, as if he was trying to memorize your face with his lips.

“Just one day apart. We can do that, right?” He’d said, holding you at arm’s length, trying to assure himself just as much as you.

Your eyes were misty underneath the rim of your knitted hat, but you’d nodded, hiding the tremble in your bottom lip with a brave tilt to your chin. “Just one day apart.” And with a final kiss, you set off down the snow-covered path, waving a red-mittened hand over your shoulder before getting into your car.

So you weren’t gonna call today, Eddie knew that. He’d have you tomorrow, curled in his lap with that strange herbal tea that you were always trying to get him into, and you’d tell him all about your holiday with your dad that you lived with but barely knew.

Just one day apart. He could deal with that, right?

Eddie groans, scrubbing his hands over his face and turning belly-down into the couch.

The thing is, he’s not the overbearing type. At least, he tries not to be. But when you meet the girl of your dreams under circumstances such as the end of the world, you tend to be a little more on the anxious side of things.

Eddie can’t actually remember the last time you’ve spent more than a few hours at a time apart in the last four months; at first it was you playing nurse, tending to Eddie for weeks after the demobats had fucked him up, rotating from couch to makeshift floor-bed that was probably hell on your back. Not that you’d complained.

Those days were a narcotic-fueled haze in Eddie’s memories; the first week he really only surfaced when he smelled the bergamot wafting from your neck each time you leaned over to change his dressings, or when he heard the gentle tinkling of those delicate flower chain earrings and stacks of thin silver bracelets you wore.

And then your time spent by his side just sort of naturally… evolved, along with your feelings for each other. He’d been crushing since high school on the starry-eyed, quiet little thing that sat behind him in Kaminsky’s class. The fact that you were rumored to be a witch really only encouraged his flirting by the day.

You weren’t so easily enamored with him- not playing hard to get, necessarily, but you never seemed to have time for romance- what with your whole saving the world thing. Information that Eddie was now privy to, after all that Upside Down shit.

Eddie would have happily taken his crush to the grave (nearly did, he has Dustin to thank for dragging his bony ass topside) if it meant keeping things between you both smooth. Because it was smooth, easy, as natural as breathing, being around you. The fact that you made the first move as soon as he was healed up (on this very couch, no less) was a dream come true. You’d basically attacked his mouth, a story he loves to drag up at the most torturous times just to see you light up with embarrassment before he kisses it better.

So now you wear one of his guitar picks on a chain around your neck and he spends his spare change on moody 70s cassettes to stock in his van for the midnight drives he loves to take you on; neither of you want to put a boyfriend/girlfriend label on each other ‘cuz it feels weirdly trite, for the amount of intimacy you’ve got going on.

Belonging, though, that’s a phrase you’ve both used before, to each other. You’re mine. You belong to me. Said sweetly and chastely during backyard BBQ’s at the Harrington house, with possessive fierceness between open-mouthed kisses, whispered cozily under the cover of thin sheets and sprawling nights.

He was your boy, for sure. You were his girl. And fuck’s sake was this day without you dragging its goddamn heels.

Eddie pounds a closed fist into the couch cushion, petulantly, then shoves himself up and off, the metal chains at his hip clinking with the sudden movement. He roots around in his bedside table drawer, then the top of his bureau where you stash your clothes sometimes- clothes that probably still smell like you. If he’s gonna be pathetic, mind as well be really pathetic, right?

Eddie’s just pulling out one of your lacy tanktops with a victorious fist pump when there’s a knock at the front door. If it’s carolers interrupting this pity-party, he’s gonna lose his shit.

But it’s not carolers. It’s Max Mayfield, red braids poking out of a green knit hat that he knows for a fact you made her last winter. She’s holding a blue tin of Danish butter cookies, customary scowl on her freckled face.

“You gonna let me in or make me freeze to death? Don’t think I won’t call child services on you, Munson.”

She ducks under Eddie’s arm, and he lets the door shut behind her with a bang. “Look, Red, Merry Christmas and all that but I’m really not in the mood to-”

Max holds out the tin, bracketed by her fuzzy mittens. “These are for you. My mom’s making me take some ’round to all the neighbors.”

Eddie pops the lid and is mildly surprised to find not the customary butter cookies but a neat stack of gingerbread people, with gumdrops for buttons and chocolate chip eyes peeking out from the wax paper.

He lifts an eyebrow at the girl, who’s dripping melted snow into his carpet, and can’t help but tease. “These look like they took some effort, Red. You treat all your neighbors this nice?”

Max glowers again, crossing her arms best she can against the thick puff of her coat sleeves.

Eddie bites the head off one of the cookies and points the desiccated corpse in her direction. “You want something, huh.”

“No,” Max says, a little too quickly, then sighs, and cranes her neck down the hallway. “Not from you, anyways. Where’s Poppy?”

Eddie flinches a little at the nickname the kids all use for you (an homage to the red lipstick you used to wear, or maybe it was the detention you got for getting caught with a jar of the seeds on school property freshman year, the story changes each time he asks) and drops the partially-eaten cookie back in the box. “She’s not here today.”

“She’s here every day,” Max counters, still looking down the hallway hopefully.

“Trust me, I wish I was lying to you,” Eddie continues, snapping the tin closed and setting it on the kitchen counter. “She’s with her dad for Christmas.”

“Poppy is willingly spending time… with her dad… for Christmas?” Max repeats the information slowly, as if she thinks Eddie is not so bright.

He lets his silence and return scowl do the talking for him. Max stamps in place, knocking more snow onto the carpet, annoyance rolling into uncomfortability. “Uh. Okay. Well… I guess I’ll just… ride my bike to the party across town. In this blizzard,” she tacks on, pointedly.

There’s a beat of silence. Eddie drums his fingers against the countertop. It’s hardly a blizzard, and there’s less than an inch of snow on the ground, but he knows what you’d do, if you were here, which you usually are.

“Goddammit,” Eddie cusses, before snatching his keys off the hook behind Max’s head and stuffing his arms into his thermal flannel, muttering, “If she wasn’t actively making me a better person, you’d be a popsicle, Red.”

___

On the drive to Steve’s, Max pokes around in the dash and complains about the lack of Kate Bush before settling on a Fleetwood Mac tape and shoving it into the deck.

Stevie Nicks croons Rihannon over the speakers, and Eddie thinks maybe he’ll get a few minutes of peace and quiet but no such luck. He’s making a slow turn onto the main road when Max asks, “What’s this?”

Eddie fights the urge to snatch the crushed velvet jewelry box out of Max’s mittened grasp and stares resolutely at the road. “I’m trying not to spin out and kill us in a fiery wreck, kid, would ya put that back where you found it?”

She bumps the dash compartment closed with her knee. “Someone’s testy today. Is it for Poppy?”

“Yes,” Eddie grits out, white-knuckling the wheel. “Christ, Max, you’re like the annoying little sister I never asked for. Would you put it-”

There’s a quiet snick as Max ignores him and opens the box. “C’mon, don’t you want a lady’s opinion?”

“Lady, my ass,” Eddie mutters. It’s pretty quiet in the passenger seat area all of a sudden, and he forces his gaze to stay safely on the snowy road as he asks, “Well?”

“Cute,” Max muses. She lifts the delicate chain from the box, the charm at the end swinging like a pendulum with the movement of the van. “A little on the nose, though, don’tcha think?”

Eddie was afraid of that. But when he saw the tiny poppy in perfect cast silver at a jewelry store on his big city excursion last month, he couldn’t help it. His girl makes him all sorts of mushy.

“Put it back,” he tells Max again, the fight going out of his voice, and she complies, this time, reaching out to pat his shoulder after reassembling the box.

“Don’t worry. Girls go crazy for that cheesy shit. Especially if they’re in love,” she says, sagely, gloved fingers absently playing with the gold heart locket around her own neck.

“Uh huh,” Eddie says, with a pointed grin aimed sideways at the girl.

“Shut up.” Max flushes beet red, then reaches for the volume dial and cranks Stevie up to ten.

___

The Harrington house is a flurry of activity, apparently chosen as the main hub for the Gang and their various extensions. Mrs. Byers chirrups a hello as he passes the kitchen, Nancy waving a wooden spoon in greeting. There’s a cheer from the group of boys in various states of sprawl over a board game on the living room floor when Eddie clomps in, Max practically shoulder-checking him on her way to Lucas’s side.

If anything, this party will be a welcome distraction from the silence that is his trailer without you. Eddie figures he’ll hang around for a bit, help eat up some of Harrington’s fancy holiday food, and dip into his weed reserves (that lacy tanktop of yours on his mind) before the bell tolls six.

After giving a dorky salute to his Hellfire kiddos, Eddie drops into the last available couch cushion: next to Argyle (silk black hair adorned with a pair of reindeer antlers), who turns sleepily and gives him a weed-laced lazy smile.

“Heyyyy, brochacho. Where’s your girl? I still owe her some cold hard cash money for those morels,” Argyle says.

“She isn’t here.” Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose. Maybe this party won’t be a good distraction after all, but he’ll be damned if he doesn’t wanna keep bringing you up anyways. “What the hell are morels?”

“Mushrooms!” Jonathan pipes up from the end of the couch. Judging by the red eyes, he’s just as gone as Argyle.

Eddie isn’t judging. Christmas is hell without the help of weed and pretty girls.

“Yeah, dude, mushrooms.” Argyle slings an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, talking over the raucous noise of the kids engaged in a tense game of Monopoly a few feet away. “She’s a wicked good forager. Better than my mushroom guy back in Cali by a loooong shot.”

“Morels are the ones that look like brains,” Jonathan says, focused on his attempt at a house made of paper money on the coffee table in front of him.

“Brains,” Argyle confirms. This seems to set Jon off in a fit of giggles, and then Argyle starts up, snickering into his closed fist, and the sight is almost enough to get Eddie to crack a smile when Steve Harrington appears in the archway.

“Uh oh,” Jonathan says, practically spasmodic at this point, “His hands are on his hips. That means he’s pissed about something.”

“Would you chuckleheads knock it off?” Steve snaps, hands still set on his hips in prissy little fists when he rounds on Eddie. “And seriously, man, you couldn’t’ve waited until the afterparty to get them stoned?”

“What, you think I did this?” Eddie gasps in faux shock. “I’m real hurt, Stevie, that you think these fine established gentlemen would need my help in getting their hands on good kush.”

This sets the boys on the couch off into conniptions again, this time Dustin barking at them to “Keep it down, assholes, we’re getting cutthroat over here,” and Nancy calls out “Language!” from the kitchen, which has Mike yelling back at her, and Eddie is just starting to enjoy himself when Steve whips the towel previously over his broad shoulder at Eddie’s face.

“If you’re done wreaking havoc here there’s someone on the landline for you,” Steve says, bending down to wipe crumbs from the coffee table.

That wipes the smirk off Eddie’s face. He sits up ramrod straight. “Who?”

“Who do you think?” Steve shoots back, and then shouts at the board game group, “ALL right, which one of you little shits spilled orange soda on the rug?”

There’s a return yell of “LANGUAGE” from the kitchen as Eddie hustles down the hall, the noise of the party fading as he reaches the mounted wall phone. He nearly pulls the cord from its socket in his haste to get the receiver to his ear- “Shit- hello?”

“Hi, Eddie.”

Eddie sags against the wall, letting his head tip back, eyes closed all the better to savor your voice- “Sweetheart. Thank god. I was dyin’ out here. Say my name again, would ya?”

“Eddie,” you laugh, and it’s chiding, but he doesn’t care, too flush with relief at hearing from you.

“How’s this nightmare of a holiday treatin’ my girl, hm?” he asks, settling the phone into the crook of his shoulder. If he had it his way, there’d be technology to laserbeam your voice permanently into his eardrums.

“It’s okay,” you sigh down the line. “I tried calling you at the trailer first, then when it kept ringing I figured you were at Steve’s party.”

“Yeah, honey, I’m at Steve’s. You want me to come pick you up?” Eddie brightens at the idea, warming up to it the more he talks. “I mean, I’d keep you all to myself, but it’s Christmas and I’m feeling generous. All anyone’s asked about so far is where the hell my girl is at.”

“That’s sweet,” you reply, and Eddie thinks you sound a little distant, a little… off, somehow. “No, that’s okay. I’m not in a partying mood. I just wanted to hear your voice, that’s all.”

“Well you have it, sugar,” Eddie purrs. “You want me to read to you? There’s a real slick copy of the phone book hangin’ right next to me. Could really get you going.”

Eddie’s only partly joking. He’d happily read the yellow pages to you until his voice gave out if it meant keeping you on the line for a little longer.

He can picture you so clearly in his head- sitting pretty in that bay window, sock feet tucked under your thighs, twirling the phone cord around your fingers in anxious little twists as you speak softly- “That’s okay, Eds. You enjoy the party, okay? I’ll come by the trailer tomorrow morning with your gift.”

“Sure,” he replies, a little deflated.

After saying his goodbyes, he hangs the phone back on the hook and returns to his spot on the couch, leg bouncing a frenzied beat amid the chaos.

He lasts about three minutes like this, which he feels is more than generous.

As he’s sliding his arms back into his green fleeced flannel, there are a few jeers from the peanut gallery about how “Eddie’s going to suck some face with his girlfriend”, which earns the room a halfhearted and generalized middle finger.

Mrs. Byers stops him in the hallway, but it’s just to hand him two cling-wrapped plates of food with a warm, knowing sort of look about her.

And then Eddie’s off into the night to see his girl.

___

okay hoped you like it gonna post pt. 2 soon follow if u wanna see when it comes out!!

#eddie munson x reader #eddie Munson x greenwitch!reader #eddie Munson x witch!reader #eddie Munson #stranger things #eddie Munson fic #eddie munson x you #max mayfield

77 notes · View notes

howlingtides · 5 months

Text

Dazai visits Chuuya after Chuuya used Corruption to save him (Chuuya's POV)

Takes place immediately after Dead Apple

tags: hurt/comfort, soukoku's version of fluff, Chuuya has chronic pain

Every time Chuuya activated Corruption, it took him a little longer to recover. When he was younger, he'd sleep it off in a few hours. The last couple of times, it had taken him maybe a day or two.

It had been three days since he'd defeated that dragon and saved Dazai's ass, and his entire body still felt like it had been crushed beneath the pressure of his own ability.

It was absolutely brutal.

He'd definitely exceeded the recommended dose of painkillers over the last seventy-two hours, and though they did help a bit, it still wasn't enough. His head throbbed and his muscles burned and his bones ached and it took every ounce of effort he had to get out of bed and force himself to eat something.

All he had left in the fridge was some leftover rice and a half empty bottle of white wine, and cooking was the last thing he wanted to do right now. He opted for the rice, popping the lid off the container and grabbing a pair of chopsticks and bringing everything with him over to the couch where he all but fell against the cushions with a groan.

He'd just taken his first bite when there was a knock at the door.

You've gotta be fucking kidding me.

It crossed his mind to play absent, to let whoever was here think he wasn't home so they would go away and just leave him the fuck alone while he wallowed in his post-Corruption agony.

"Chuuuuuyaaa," came a sing-song voice from outside, another knock following suit.

Oh he was definitely pretending that he wasn't home.

"I know you're in there," Dazai said. "I can feel you pouting."

Damn it all to hell.

"Go to hell you goddamn coat rack."

"But Chuuya," he pressed, "I come bearing gifts."

Gifts? What the hell could shitty Dazai have possibly brought him?

He pondered it for a moment before ultimately deciding that this was a losing battle. Chuuya was either going to let Dazai in or Dazai was going to eventually let himself in.

He set the rice down on the coffee table and pushed himself up with a grunt, dragging himself over to the front door. And he must've been in worse shape than he thought because the moment he opened the door, Dazai's stupid smile faded a little.

Just a little.

But it was enough.

"Please don't," Chuuya said before Dazai could comment on his appearance.

"Don't what?"

"Just. Don't." He scrubbed a hand over his face. "Not today."

They stood there in silence for a moment as Chuuya held his breath.

Eventually, Dazai held up a brown paper bag. "In the mood for some carbonara?"

Chuuya was always in the mood for carbonara, and shitty Dazai knew that, but Chuuya was not in the mood for company, and Dazai probably knew that, too.

It was then that Chuuya's stomach growled and he remembered the cold white rice he was about to eat.

Begrudgingly, he stepped aside, allowing Dazai to enter.

It was also then that he realized how dark his apartment was. He'd kept all the blinds closed and the lights off because everything hurt and the light hurt, but if Dazai had something to say about it, he kept it to himself. Which was unsettling.

Was Chuuya dreaming?

"I figured you were still wallowing," Dazai said, setting the bag down on the coffee table next to the sad leftovers. "I haven't heard from you since you passed out in my lap."

There it was.

"That was not by choice, asshole," Chuuya snarled, limping back over to sit on the couch. "You held me down."

Dazai sat on the other side. "You looked pretty comfortable to me."

Chuuya could feel himself getting worked up, the pain increasing. "Dazai," he warned, rubbing at his temple.

"What?" Dazai continued. "It's not like it was the first time you've ever-"

"I should have left you to die."

"Well if you'd've done that, you'd be dead, too."

"Not the worst thing in the world right now."

Dazai paused at that and gave Chuuya this look.

Was that pity?

"I swear to god, if you-"

"I never got to thank you," Dazai said, cutting him off.

Chuuya froze, still trying to decide whether or not this was a dream.

"You saved me," Dazai continued. "You're always saving me, Chuuya." He slid the paper bag across the table. "So. Thank you."

Chuuya's chest felt warm. He stared down at the bag then back up at Dazai. "That's not poisoned, is it?"

Dazai gasped. "Chuuya! So soon after what happened to me? Consider a guy's feelings."

"You're so fucking full of it."

Dazai smirked. "You want me to take the first bite?"

He grabbed the paper bag, holding it away from Dazai. "Don't fucking touch it."

"I brought it for both of us."

Chuuya thought for a moment before setting the bag back down. "I guess," he uttered, "I guess I owe you one, too. For," he stared down at his hands, "saving me."

Dazai hummed in acknowledgement. "Has Chuuya gone soft?"

"Dick," Chuuya said, softly punching Dazai in the arm.

Dazai chuckled. "You're so easy."

Chuuya felt his cheeks go hot, and he wanted to scream, but he was also starving, and if it meant sharing a meal with Dazai to eat some delicious carbonara in his time of need, then.

Well, he guessed it also wasn't the worst thing in the world right now either.

#soukoku #bsd chuuya #bsd dazai #dazai osamu #chuuya nakahara #bungou stray dogs #hurt/comfort #soukoku's version of fluff #chuuya has chronic pain #skk #kris drabbles

72 notes · View notes

freshloveforthefit · 4 months

Text

Cheer you up - Sturniolo Triplets

y/n is going through a depressive episode & hasn't talked to anyone so the triplets come over and help her get back to doing daily tasks

Y/n's POV

I was woken up from my phone going off again from my nightstand beside my bed. I hadn't talked to anyone in a couple days, just ignoring my phone hoping my problems would just disappear if I didn't acknowledge them.

My room was a mess and I hadn't left my bed in almost 3 days. Only leaving to grab food but then never eating it. I get like this sometimes but it hasn't been this bad in a while. Ever since I moved from Boston to LA with the triplets it's been contained pretty well, until this week.

The triplets and I have been friends for as long as I can remember, our parents were best friends so when they found out they were having kids at the same time we were instantly going to be friends in our parents heads.

I figured I should at least look at my phone to let them know I was okay, seeing as I haven't replied in a couple days and they were probably getting more worried.

The most recent being a missed call from Nick and a missed text from Matt.

"Please at least reply or answer one of us Y/n. Are you okay?"

I set my phone back down telling myself I'd reply in a little bit and went back to sleep.

When I woke back up again there was knocking on my door. I thought if I just let whoever it was knock they leave eventually. Boy was I wrong, the knocking just kept getting louder and more frequent.

My phone started going off again and I saw it was Nick. Remembering I was going to reply soon, I picked up the call.

"Let us in. We're at your door." Nick said, then hanging up.

I really didn't want to see anybody in the state of myself and my room, but I still got up to go to the door and let them in.

They stood there all looking concerned for me when I opened the door.

"Hi? What are you doing here?" You asked very confused.

"You haven't answered in days and expected us to just let that slide? We know you haven't been doing the greatest so we're here to cheer you up." Chris said, walking past you into your apartment.

"Sure invite yourself right in..." You mumble as they all walk through following Chris.

They set 2 bags down on your kitchen table and start unpacking them. They were full of all your favorite foods, drinks, games, and a new blanket. They also brought the ingredients for one of your favorite meals that they always made you make since they loved it too.

"Now, we are going to help you clean up some and you can go shower then we can cook. How does that sound?" Nick said.

"Yea sure, so demanding." You joke back. " But seriously thank you guys so much."

"Of course. We noticed something was wrong so we wanted to try to help some." Matt said coming to hug you.

"Okay everyone get to your jobs!" Nick said pushing you towards you bathroom so you could shower and get ready.

After you were done you walked back out seeing everything looked much more clean and the triplets were getting everything out to cook.

You all cooked and listened to music before you sat down to watch a movie while you ate. Eventually one movie turned into three and you fell asleep with your head on Nicks lap and your legs on Matts lap.

Being around friends really did help, and you felt better the next day surrounded by your three favorite people.

Omgggg first fic I've posted 🤯 I hope yall enjoy!!

#sturniolo fanfic #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo

70 notes · View notes

tip-top-cloud-surfer · 1 year

Text

Family Man - Fanboy

Pairing: Fanboy / GN!Spouse!Reader

Word Count: 0.7k

This work, all of my works, and my entire blog is 18+ Only

Warnings: Messy Kids; Implied Stay-at-Home Reader; Second Person POV ("You"), No Y/N, No Mention of Gender or Appearance for Reader; Unnamed Garcia Kid OCs (not Referenced if they're Adopted/Biological)

Summary: After a long day at work, Fanboy returns home to complete his most important job: taking care of his family.

Master List

Mickey returned home from work to find the house just as he left it—a disaster.

But with a toddler and a baby at home, there was no such thing as clean. There was no time to clean. And anyone who expected a house with a toddler and a baby to be anywhere close to clean had clearly never interacted with a child before. But he knew that a messy house always stressed you out and made a mental note to try and clean some of it after dinner.

Setting his work bag by the door and toeing off his shoes, Mickey walked into the kitchen area to see you already sitting at the dinner table. Your son was sitting in his high chair, happily taking the little bits of baby food that you fed him. Your daughter was making a, though you tried to get her to cooperate enough to eat some vegetables.

“I’m home!” Fanboy called, causing your daughter to let out a squeal.

“Daddy!”

She hopped down from her seat and raced around the table to Fanboy. He happily scooped her up and pressed a kiss to her forehead as he settled her on his hip. Fixing the bow in her hair, Fanboy pressed another kiss to her cheek.

“Did you miss me, huh?”

“Yeah! You left!” your daughter complained, playing with the pins on Mickey’s uniform.

“I had to go to work, Princess.”

“Why?”

“Well, you like eating food, don’t you?” Fanboy joked, bouncing your daughter teasingly. “Are you being a good girl?”

“Yeah!”

“Mostly,” you joked as your husband walked around the table to greet you. Fanboy leaned down to press a greeting kiss to your lips, earning a disgusted screech of ‘ew’ from your daughter in return. “How was work, Papi?”

“Long. The contractors from the Pentagon were still hanging around,” Fanboy explained, turning to kiss your son on top of his head. “Lots of long meetings that I could have done without.”

“Dinner is up on the stove,” you told him, scooping out more baby food for your son.

Fanboy set your daughter down in her seat and noted the fact that you didn’t have a plate of food in front of you yet. You were more focused on feeding your children than yourself, like the good parent that you were. But you had a long day too and Fanboy was sure that you were hungry.

He walked over to the stove and grabbed a plate from a cabinet. Filling it with enough food for two people, Fanboy returned to the dinner table. Sitting down across from you and in between your children, Fanboy put two pieces of vegetables on his fork. He held it out to you so that you could take a bite. You glanced over at fork and shot your husband a small smile before eating the vegetables.

Fanboy fed himself and dabbed at your daughter’s chin with a napkin before grabbing some chicken with his fork. Holding it out to you again, this time while you were feeding your son, Fanboy waited patiently for you to reach out and eat the chicken. You sent him another thankful smile as you ate it off of his fork.

And from there, the cycle continued. You would feed your kids and Fanboy would try and keep them settled and clean. He would feed himself some food and then feed you from his plate.

When your kids were done eating, Fanboy moved to take them away to give you a moment alone. Holding your son in his arms while your daughter ran off to grab her toys, Fanboy placed the plate full of your favorite food that he picked out for you down in front of you despite your momentary protest. You shot him a look, though your lips curled into a small smile.

“Take your time,” Fanboy assured you, pressing a kiss to your lips. “They’re a lot of work.”

“Of course, they are. They’re your kids,” you shot back at your husband. Though before he stepped too far away, you grabbed him by the front of his uniform and pulled him in for a better kiss that he happily returned. Pulling away, you cupped his cheek with your hand. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” Fanboy told you, sneaking another quick kiss. “Now, eat.”

A.N. This was lowkey inspired by the photo of the TGM cast with Andrew Garfield where Danny was more focused on eating than anything else.

314 notes · View notes

thisapplepielife · 5 months

Text

Written for the @steddiemas challenge.

If You Only Believe

Prompt Day 7: Mall and/or Job | Word Count: 4905 | Rating: T | CW: (Past) Loss, Loneliness | Tags: AU, Future Fic, Mall Santa, Christmas, Companionship, Finding Love Again, Second Acts, Happy Ending, Steve POV

This one is also available right here on AO3.

Steve sits alone at a small table near the fountain in the center of the mall a few miles from his house. He drinks his cup of coffee and eats his mall pretzel in the near silence. Weekday mornings are often peaceful, at least this early in the day. There aren't a lot of shoppers out and about, not yet.

The only real movement is from the mall walkers, making their continuous laps, and he watches them as they go by in their sweatsuits and new walking shoes. Arms pumping far faster than their legs.

His late wife was a mall walker, once upon a time. She's been gone for a while now, but he thinks of her here, in her color-coordinated jogging suit and smiles.

He's recently realized that he's lonely, especially as it's getting to be that time of year, when the holidays are happening in full force, and he misses her. Misses being part of a team. A couple.

Misses love. Being loved. He still loves her, but she's gone, and he's still here.

He has love to give, and nobody to give it to. Sure, he has his adult kids, and Robin, and he loves them all desperately, but it's not the same. To not have a romantic love, well, it's another loss he's suffered.

He's a husband, with no spouse.

Steve's not young, but he's young for a widower. That's what everybody says, anyway. You're so young. You should get back out there. He retired early, with big plans. Then his wife died, and those plans evaporated into thin air.

They all mean well, but he doesn't have it in him to date, not again. He wouldn't even know how to start. He's not getting on some app. Not at his age. That's just not for him. So, he comes here to the mall, several times a week, just to be around other people for a little while. To hear the bustle, the talking, the laughter that comes later in the day.

To hear and see people moving about their busy lives, the world spinning faster around him, as he sits stagnant and still.

To see little kids running around, looking in every store window, wanting everything they see on display. His kids are grown, and there aren't any grandkids. Not yet. Maybe never, and if that's how it shakes out, that'll be okay, too.

He just wants his kids to be happy. Wants their lives to be fulfilled in all the ways that make them happiest.

He wants to be happy, himself. And he is, most days. It's not the same, but it's a different version of happiness, and he's learned to adjust. He has Robin, but she's so far away. He's considered packing up and moving closer to her, but he can't see letting go of his home. Their home.

Not yet.

The mall is quiet today, but it won't be that way for long. Around him, they are setting up for the mall Santa display, since Thanksgiving is over and Christas is coming, once again. They're turning off the fountain, draining it and covering it, all to make room for the stage for Santa. For all the decorations.

They're on ladders, hanging garland and huge snowflakes from the ceiling. The speakers start playing Christmas music softly throughout the entire mall.

And Steve watches it all happen, day after day, until there's finally a full stage set up and a Santa with a line of children waiting to see him.

The quiet of the mall is gone until next year. That's okay, he's had a lot of quiet lately, and he thinks it might be nice to have a little excitement for a change.

So, Steve watches and listens from a table out of the way, as the mall Santa talks to each kid, attentive and animated. He seems to have a gift for charming even the shyest of kids into engaging with him before their time is up and their picture has been taken.

Steve remembers a lot more crying and tears when his kids were that little, and waiting their turn to see Santa. He recalls having to bribe them to even approach the larger than life man in the red suit, just to get the picture his wife so desperately wanted for the Christmas card.

If they'd had a Santa as good as this one, all the bartering might not have been needed. These kids are flocking to him, ready to climb on his knee and tell him what they want for Christmas this year. Gone are the days of wanting footballs and dolls. Everything has a brand name, and Steve recognizes almost none of them. He's too far removed from that stage of life.

Even if it seems like only yesterday.

But he likes to listen to the mall Santa charm the kids. Likes to hear them fall in love with the magic of Christmas that he's so heavily selling to them.

So, Steve comes back, day after day, to the mall. Drinks his coffee. Eats his mall pretzel. Watches people. The shoppers, the mall walkers, and the entertaining man in the Santa Claus suit.

He hasn't been in a mall this often since he was a teenager working in a food court ice cream shop with Robin.

Steve gets a Cinnabon today instead of a pretzel, just for a change, for a treat. He can't eat them everyday, not at this age, but every once in a while it's nice. Steve watches as the line forms to see Santa, but when Santa comes out it's a different guy than it has been. And he's far less lively.

That's okay.

Steve knew that it wouldn't last forever, this free entertainment that he's been getting. He doesn't know what the schedule of a mall Santa might be like, or how much it might pay. By the day? The season? Are they volunteers? Do they do one week shifts, and now that lively Santa has gone, having done his duty for the season? Steve really has no idea. He's never thought about it, honestly. Mall Santas are just part of the tapestry of Christmas. December hits, and there's a Santa in the middle of every mall in America.

Steve finishes the cinnamon roll, and tries to wipe the icing out of his mustache. He's sure it's in there, it always is. He drinks the last of his coffee, and is getting ready to stand when someone approaches his table from over his shoulder.

"Mind if I join you?" the voice asks, and Steve looks up.

There's Santa. Well, the man that has been playing Santa during the past week, anyway. He's a little thinner out of the suit, but he still has white hair, and a matching white beard. Not to mention a truly impressive handlebar mustache. Steve guesses he assumed it was fake. The beard, the mustache. But it appears to be very real, and Steve's mustache has got nothing on the one on this man's face. He could seriously twirl it like a villain, if wanted to get a side gig playing someone a little less wholesome than Santa Claus.

But his voice is the same.

He's in street clothes, and all traces of his red suit are gone. His little, gold wire glasses have been replaced with thick, black frames. He looks younger this way, up close.

"Sure," Steve says, "I think denying Santa a seat might get me put on the naughty list."

Santa laughs, but lowers his voice.

"Shh, I'm not Santa. Not today," the man says, hooking his thumb towards the other Santa. "Today, I'm just Eddie."

Eddie offers Steve his hand across the table, and Steve takes it. Shaking.

"Well, it's nice to meet you, Eddie. I'm always just Steve, no secret identities here," Steve answers, smiling at the other man.

"And here I was hoping you were secretly Batman," Eddie teases. "And for the record, I don't think you're just anything," Eddie says, and Steve blushes. He wasn't sure his face still did that.

All it takes is a little attention from a stranger, and it's like he's never socialized a day in his life.

"Yeah, well. You've been entertaining to watch this past week. You're very good at what you do," Steve tells him, because he's not sure if mall Santas get compliments very often. But they should. At least, Eddie should.

"Eh, it just gives me something to do in retirement," Eddie says with a chuckle.

"I understand that," Steve says, "I've been retired five years and I still don't know what to do with myself most days. Hence, the mall pretzels."

Eddie laughs, and it's warm and lovely. Friendly. Open. Steve leans closer to him, towards the center of the table, just to hear what he has to say better over the crying kids and hustle and bustle. His hearing isn't as good as it once was, especially with a lot of background noise.

"Is today your day off?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods. So, Steve continues, "And you just couldn't stay away from the place? Needed to scope out the competition?"

Eddie grins, "Something like that."

"Well, you're clearly better at it. Don't worry about that at all," Steve says, softly. "Way better."

"Thanks, Steve," Eddie answers, and takes a drink of his own coffee.

And they talk. About nothing. About everything. It's nice to talk to someone his own age, but that doesn't know him. To make a new friend, if only for the day.

They talk long enough that Eddie gets up and buys them another round of coffee. Something different this time from the Starbucks menu, and Steve likes it. He usually just gets black coffee. But trying something new is nice. He should branch out more often.

Later, Steve buys them lunch. Big slices of pizza, that they eat while they laugh and talk. He watches Eddie try to keep his sauce out of his white mustache and smiles. It's a universal problem, and he's got it easier than Eddie, that's for damn sure.

"Aren't you a little young to be playing Santa?" Steve asks, looking at him.

Eddie laughs, "I haven't been called young in a while. Thanks for that."

"You know what I mean," Steve says, because they aren't young, but Santa feels old old. Not their age, old.

"I like the chance to put on a production. A show. It's been a while since I've gotten to do that. And being a mall Santa actually pays good, especially if you're a Real Beard," Eddie says, tugging on his white beard.

Steve smiles and nods, at least that's one question answered.

Eddie gets up to go to the bathroom, and when he comes back, he hands Steve a pretzel with a knowing look.

"I will not feel shame about the mall pretzels," Steve says, quoting David Rose and Eddie smiles and laughs. He gets the joke, and Steve grins.

"We could go see if the Suncoast has Bridget Jones's Diary?" Eddie offers, teasing him.

"Suncoast," Steve says with a laugh, "now, there's a name I haven't heard in a while. I'm not sure that's a thing anymore."

Eddie just smiles. But Steve's sure they've gone the way of Blockbusters at this point. Few and far between, if there are any left at all.

Put out to pasture, like he feels, a lot of the time.

But they eat their mall pretzels together, and talk about Schitt's Creek.

And they keep talking, until it's dinner time. Steve's gonna be stoved up once he stands again. Getting older is a bitch, that's for sure. Nothing moves as well or as fast as it used to, and you've just got to adapt.

They've both had to take pee breaks, age will do that to your prostate, but they keep sitting back down together, neither in a hurry to leave.

"You hungry again?" Steve asks, and Eddie nods.

So, they debate what to get, and settle on Chinese food. They eat and talk, and it's the best day Steve's had in a long while.

When it's time to leave, they walk towards the parking lot, and when Eddie pushes open the door for him, it's dark outside. It's always a little disorienting to enter a mall during broad daylight and leave after dark.

Steve turns to Eddie.

"Thanks for keeping me company today. I had fun."

"I had fun, too. If you want to come later in the day tomorrow, we could always do it again after my shift on the sleigh is over? If that works for your schedule."

Steve nods, because he doesn't have a schedule, not anymore, and that sounds great. He'd love to spend more time with Eddie.

So he does. Everyday he shows up, and watches Eddie be Santa for a while, and then waits for him to change clothes afterwards to meet up with him. Then they eat together. They're working their way around the entire food court, trying every stall at least once. Some things have been good, some others not so much, but they're definitely having a good time.

Steve's having fun, and maybe making a new friend.

He learns that Eddie is divorced. He had a husband, and now he doesn't. Steve understands. He had a wife, and now he doesn't. Different losses, but they've both been sent out adrift, alone, after years of having a partner by their side.

That's a universal feeling, he's pretty sure.

After they eat, sometimes they sit and have coffee, and other days they'll walk through the mall, window shopping. They discuss the stuff they see, the stuff they remember from their childhoods that are long gone, now. They talk about the state of the world, and how they don't know how to fix it.

And, as Christmas approaches, they stop window shopping, and do some regular shopping. Steve buys gifts for Robin, for his kids, for his mailman. He stops at the Hickory Farms kiosk and buys a meat and cheese gift set to drop off at his former office.

Eddie buys things, too. He doesn't have kids, but he has friends he talks about. He buys a tin of popcorn from a kiosk, for his weekly poker game.

And it's the best month Steve's had in a very long time.

"I have a mall friend," Steve says into the phone, sitting down in his recliner to talk to Robin. They talk a lot, but they always make time on Wednesday nights. It's been that way for decades, a constant. Tradition.

"What's a mall friend?" Robin asks, immediately curious.

"A friend at the mall," he answers, like, obviously. If he had an aquarium friend, he would have said so.

"Are they a real or imaginary friend?" she questions, sounding suspicious.

"A little of both," he teases, then adds, "he's the mall Santa."

"You're friends with the mall Santa?" she repeats, disbelief in her voice.

"Yeah? He's a real person under the red suit, you know. His name is Eddie."

"Are you one of his elves? Are you sitting on his lap?" she teases.

"No!" he says, too loud and too fast.

Goddammit.

Now she's gonna make it into a thing. It's not a thing, not really. But she's never letting this go now, and he's the only one to blame. He shouldn't have said anything at all. Eddie and him don't talk outside of their afternoons in the mall. They haven't exchanged numbers, or made any plans.

Eddie is his mall friend. That's the most accurate description.

"Steve…" she trails off.

"I like him, of course I like him, but it's not that easy. The kids aren't ready for me to date anybody else, let alone a man. Let alone a mall Santa," Steve says, rationalizing this situation.

"Your kids would love for you to be happy. You know that, and I know that," Robin says. "And in what world would they care that he's a man? I know the kids you raised. They love me and their Aunt Penny. So, that's just an excuse you're making."

Steve makes a non-committal sound.

"Steve…"

"We aren't like that, Robin. We're just mall friends. That's it."

"Well, what happens when Christmas is over, dingus? Then what? Is he also the mall Easter Bunny?"

Steve smiles at the thought. He'd never considered that to be a possibility, and now it's all he can think about. Eddie in that giant bunny suit. Huge, pastel polka dot bow tie around his neck.

"He's not the Easter Bunny," he answers.

"Send me a pic of him, I need to see this Santa," Robin demands.

"I don't have a picture of him. Why would I have a picture of him?" Steve asks.

"Well, you could have a professional one taken with him," Robin suggests.

"Yeah, and get banned from the mall for life for being a weird pervert? No thanks, Rob," Steve says.

"I'm just saying, if you like him, tell him that."

"It's not like that. We're friends. Mall friends," he says, again.

"So you've said," Robin says, sarcastically, and he changes the subject. It doesn't want to talk about Eddie, the mall Santa friend, right now.

Christmas Eve is bustling in the mall, full of last-minute shoppers rushing around to get everything they need before the stores shutter for the night.

Steve watches as Eddie pays attention to all the kids that are making their list minute wishes known. Their stressed parents nearby, worrying how they're going to make these last requests happen with so little time left in the shopping season.

Eddie stays until the last kid has been greeted, and then disappears into the back, only to reappear later, Eddie. Not Santa.

They eat at the last stall they haven't tried yet, a little stand slinging cheesesteaks. Steve's gonna have heartburn from the peppers and onions afterwards, surely, but they're really good.

Steve's not ready for the month to end, but it's time to go. Things end all the time before you're ready. Steve knows that, intimately.

"What are your plans for tonight?" Eddie asks, as they make their way out of the mall for the last time before Christmas is over for another year. It's a weirdly bittersweet feeling. Steve's enjoyed Christmas again, in a way he hasn't since, before.

"Not much. My kids won't be here until tomorrow. You?"

"Nothing much on my end, either."

"Well, it was a lot of fun watching you be Santa, Eddie," Steve says, pausing by his car.

"It was fun hanging out with you, too, Steve."

And they part ways, like they have every night before this one. With little fanfare.

Steve sits in his car and the entire drive home he wonders if he should have offered Eddie his phone number or email address. Something, anything, so they could have stayed in touch. But they've spent a few weeks together, and that's never come up. Eddie would have surely offered or asked, if he wanted that kind of contact.

So, Steve is just grateful for what this was. A temporary friendship, when he needed one desperately.

"Merry Christmas Eve," Robin says, and Steve settles into his chair.

"Backatcha," he answers, stirring his cup of coffee. He bought some fancy creamer after Eddie turned him on to all the different kinds of coffee out there.

"So, how's your mall friend?" Robin asks.

"Fine, his last Santa shift was today," Steve says.

"...and?"

"And what? Christmas is over," Steve says, sipping his coffee.

"Steve! Please tell me you got his number, or he took yours. Something. Anything!" she shouts, and he sips his coffee, trying to ignore her outburst.

But his stomach is tight. He's pretty sure he fucked up. He should have done one of those things, and now it's too late. Santa is gone for the year, and has taken Eddie with him.

"Seriously? You've been dating him for a month and you just, what? Left?"

He scoffs, "I haven't been dating him for a month. I'm not dating him at all. If hanging out with someone is the metric for dating, I have bad news about our relationship."

She laughs, but then is quiet, "I wish you'd have done something to keep him around, Steve. Friend, or more."

"Yeah," Steve says, "me too, I think."

Steve doesn't go back to the mall the day after Christmas. Or the day after that. He doesn't want to know that Eddie's not there.

But, on the third day, he goes and buys his coffee and has his mall pretzel in hand, when he spots the back of Eddie's head sitting at a table.

Steve smiles and makes a beeline towards him, coming up to him from behind him, already talking as he rounds his shoulder, "Hey, I didn't expect-" he starts, only to realize it isn't Eddie at all. "Oh, I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else."

"Who? Santa Claus?" the familiar voice asks, full of joy.

Steve does a double take. The voice is Eddie, but the face…

Eddie runs his hand over his clean shaven cheeks, grinning up at Steve.

"It takes six months to grow out, and about six minutes to shave off," Eddie says.

Holy shit.

Steve laughs, and sits down across from him, just staring.

"That is one helluva transformation," Steve says, continuing to stare.

"Were you only friends with me for my badass beard and mustache? Are you a Santa groupie? Is that what's happening here?" Eddie teases, his eyes soft. The eyes, those are the same.

"You got me. The red suit does it for me, and I always choose all my friends by their facial hair. It's a strict requirement."

Eddie laughs, and it's nice to see so much more of his face. He's handsome. More than Steve even realized.

And they talk, and eat, and it's the same as it was all the days prior.

"Do you play poker?" Eddie asks, and Steve nods. At least in theory. It's been a while.

"You have plans tonight? It's my weekly game with some friends. The more the merrier, if you want to come?"

Steve should say no, shouldn't let Eddie pity him. But he finds himself nodding at the invitation, all the same.

"Great," Eddie says, seeming delighted, "let me text you the address. And that way you'll have my number, if you get lost."

And just like that, they aren't just mall friends. They're phone friends now, too.

Steve nervously walks up to the door, but he doesn't have to even ring the bell, because Eddie is swinging open the front glass door with a smile.

"Hey, glad you made it," Eddie says, ushering him inside.

He hears chatter, and laughter, and it's warm inside. In the dining room, at the table, there are three women holding hands of cards.

One of them hops up when she sees him, and the rest follow. She's short as can be, but smiling up at him.

"This is Di," Eddie says, "and that is Mel and Carla," Eddie adds, pointing at each woman. "This is Steve."

"Hi, it's so nice to meet you," Steve says, and he had assumed Eddie's poker game was with men, but now he realizes that was a stupid assumption to make.

They all fawn over him for a minute, which makes him feel silly. But they seem fun.

"Okay, you old hens, leave him alone," Eddie says with a laugh, and puts his hand on the small of Steve's back. Guiding him towards the basement stairs.

Eddie leads him down into the basement of the house, and oh, there are three other older men sitting around the green felt table. Eddie makes introductions.

"Gareth, Jeff and Charles," Eddie says, pointing at each man

"Don't you get him calling me Charles, you asshole," the largest of the three men says.

Eddie laughs, rocking on his feet. Seeing Eddie so giddy makes Steve smile. He's ornery, and Steve's a little smitten.

"What should I call you, then?" Steve asks the man who clearly doesn't want to be called Charles.

"Goodie," they all say in unison.

"Okay, Goodie it is. I'm Steve," and they all nod politely.

Steve sits down and is dealt in.

"Did you survive the welcome wagon?" Jeff asks, looking over at Steve. Steve smiles and nods.

"They have to play upstairs, because they are way too cutthroat for us. They've been put in a permanent timeout," Eddie says, and that's a hilarious thought.

Steve looks around the table. He wonders what it's like to have this many people around you all the time. It must be nice, even if it's only one night a week. To be in a full house, again.

"So, you're Eddie's pretzel friend?" Gareth asks from his right side, passing Steve a bowl full of mall kiosk popcorn, and Steve laughs.

The mall friend and the pretzel friend. They really are a pair.

"That's me," Steve says with a laugh, and looks at the cards in front of him. He's been dealt a pretty good hand, he realizes.

And it's fun, and easy, this poker game. They give each other shit, and don't seem to be on their best behavior just because there's a guest at the table, and Steve likes that. Loves that this is just a normal poker game, and he slides into it like he's always been here. He might not know them very well, but watching Eddie, he realizes he does know him. This Eddie is the same Eddie he's spent hours with, in that mall.

Steve lays down his next bet, eats his popcorn, and makes some more new friends, hopefully.

He wins, and he loses, and it's fun. All of it.

When the night is over, he's glad he came. Really glad.

"Next week is casino night," Gareth says, "so, get ready."

"Casino night?" Steve asks, and he's picturing them all sitting around in green dealer visors, spinning a plastic roulette wheel.

"All of us go to the casino right outside town for the night. Eat a nice dinner together, gamble a little, have a few drinks, and then we stay in the attached hotel. It's a lot of fun," Eddie says, "you should definitely come with us."

Steve doesn't want to crash their party, especially one that is obviously so couple-based, but with the way Eddie is smiling at him, Steve just nods. It does sound like fun.

At the end of the night, Eddie walks Steve out to his car that's parked along the curb. Eddie stuffs his hands in his coat pockets, and rocks on his feet, like he's nervous. Steve just watches him, curious.

"Thanks for inviting me, that was fun," Steve says, and it was. He likes Eddie's friends, he thinks.

"Of course, you're welcome every week. Same time, same place," Eddie rambles a little and Steve smiles. He might just take him up on that offer. It might be nice to have something to look forward to every week. Wednesdays are for Robin, but maybe Thursdays can be for Eddie and poker.

"I might just do that," Steve says, smiling at Eddie.

"And I hope you'll come to the casino with us, too," Eddie says, and Steve nods. He thinks he will.

And then they fall into a soft quietness, just looking at each other. Eddie looks like he has something to say, but he's just standing there, frozen. So, Steve reaches out, and squeezes Eddie's arm through his coat sleeve, "Thanks for inviting me."

And then, Eddie is finally talking.

"If I'm reading this wrong, just tell me and I'll shut up, but would you be interested in getting dinner together some time? You know, outside of the mall?" Eddie asks, and he looks far too nervous for a man that's lived nearly this many decades.

"You're not reading it wrong at all," Steve says, smiling at him, "I'd really like that a lot."

Eddie grins, and it's still funny to see that now that Steve can see his whole mouth. It's a great mouth. With full lips that are just begging to be kissed.

But Steve hasn't kissed anybody new in, goddamn, what? Over thirty years? Even the thought of doing so is a little daunting.

He doesn't have time to dither long though, because Eddie steps forward, and his intent is clear, so Steve leans into it. Into Eddie. Into the moment.

It's chaste, and brief, but Steve feels warm inside. His heart is racing, and he didn't realize that was something that could still happen at his advanced age and not just be the signs of an imminent heart attack.

They part nearly as quickly as they joined, but Eddie is smiling, right up close. So Steve kisses him again, a little longer this time, and yeah, this is what he's been longing for, he suddenly realizes. This kind of connection. He didn't know he could be lucky enough to get it more than once in a lifetime. But he's realizing that he can have a second act. He just needed a little intermission to get his bearings, to adjust to his new reality, but right now, with Eddie, he definitely feels like that is possible.

Anything is possible, if you only believe in it.

And Steve, he believes.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddiemas and follow along!

#steddiemas #mall or job setting #mall santa #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #older steddie #stranger things fic #thisapplepielife: short fic #thisapplepielife: steddiemas #steddie christmas fic #platonic stobin

57 notes · View notes