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#it's about the kid realizing what actual family + love looks like
buckttommy · 6 hours
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I have an idea for a full-season Eddie arc that I want to put into the universe. tim, feel free to plagiarize me yet again (but this time. i want a dm. i know you're around here somewhere come say hi). So. Anyways. Season 8
8x1: Eddie has broken up with Marisol. By the time this episode rolls around, they've already been broken up for a couple weeks/months. As mentioned in 7x5, he's struggling with the idea of Catholic guilt, struggling with the idea of faith in general. He mentions, in casual conversation, to Buck, Chim or Tommy (who is still with Buck on screen *coughs loudly*) that he's thinking about going down to Texas for a while. His grandmother is the most religious person he knows and he's always found comfort being in her space and soaking in her presence, so he wants to talk to her about his feelings. Whoever he's talking to agrees that's a good idea.
8x2 - 8x7: A couple episodes pass with the idea of Eddie taking some time off in the background of the audience's mind. Nothing major, just little throw away lines about getting the truck tuned up before he makes a big road trip, paying bills before he leaves, things like that.
8x8: The 118 responds to a call of a fire in a church. Two people are getting married and their families are in attendance. Eddie doesn't go inside the church but he fights the fire from outside and helps treat the injured. Almost everyone is pulled out safely but the mother of the bride. Her daughter is crying because she and her mother aren't on good terms and she doesn't want it to be too late for them to patch things up. Eddie and the bride get to talking, and the bride mentions she always felt like she wasn't enough for mom, that she found it impossible to live up to her standards. They had an argument before the fire broke out because the bride realized, on-screen, that she didn't actually want to marry the man she was going to marry because she was in love with someone else (that's what started the fire, her making that announcement caused someone to pass out, and blah blah blah). But she was only marrying this man because her mom thought he would be good for her, and the brides makes a comment about always feeling like she was living her life for someone else, in service of a standard she could never reach. Eddie, of course, can relate. The bride's mother passes away and, it's a tragedy and is treated as such, but at the end of the episode during the voiceover (*coughs louder*), we see the bride reuniting with the person she's actually in love with because her mother's death means she's free from having to try to, like, be perfect.
8x10: Eddie's been getting a call from his dad all throughout the episode but he's been ignoring it because [shenanigans]. This is a light-hearted episode and the tone will be important because when he finally answers the phone during the last five minutes of the episode, he's like "Dad, come on, jesus, what is it" and his dad tells him that his grandmother has passed away.
8x11: Midseason premiere, the episode begins with Isabel's funeral, mainly because I want to see Eddie/Ryan in a nice tailored black suit (timothy, i'm sure you can relate). Anyway, the funeral is outside because it's important Eddie doesn't go inside a church yet. When it's finished, he goes back to the reception at Isabel's house. His sisters are there, everyone is there. He offers to help his mother in the kitchen and she tries to make conversation, but Helena Diaz has never actually learned how to relate to her son, so she says the wrong thing. It doesn't go well (but that's something to be circled back to in another season). Eddie looks at the pictures on his grandma's wall / mantle / whatever and sees himself and his sisters and his cousins when they were kids, smiling big at church christenings or whatever, and he's like... "I don't recognize this kid who was so happy to be inside of religion. I didn't know who I was then, and I definitely don't know who I am now because of it". He doesn't say it, but that's the vibe ofc, and Ryan's face is expressive enough that he can pull that off.
8x12: He's back in LA. Everyone is treating him with the utmost care because they are good people and they love him, and one evening, Eddie gets a visitor. He opens the door and it's his sister. (one of them lives in LA, remember?). In my head, that's always been Sophia, so he asks what she's doing here, and she holds up a bottle of wine. They sit on the sofa, they talk and reminisce about their grandmother, make apologies for the fact that they haven't been around for each other much despite living in the same city (but this isn't Eddie's family issues storyline, this is the Catholic guilt storyline. We will circle back to this in S9). So Eddie pitches the idea of faith to her, and asks what it means to her. It's the same question he wanted to ask his grandmother. Sophia says she has faith in the universe, faith that things always happen the way they're meant to, and it's a good answer but it doesn't speak to the core of Eddie's problem, which is that he always feels beholden to something he can't name/place.
8x14: Eddie continues to ask the people around him (Buck, Athena, Tommy, Chim) about faith and what it means to them. They all give him different answers. Athena has faith in purpose. Chim has faith in his family. Buck has faith in the inherent good of humanity. Tommy has faith in himself. It's not very helpful in the sense that no one gives him his answer, but it does reveal to him that faith can, does, and should exist absent of guilt, that maybe he's been doing it (or was taught) all wrong.
8x15: Insert an embarrassingly on the nose call about a kind, nerdy, reserved man who's lived by an unspoken rulebook all his life. He came out to Los Angeles on a whim and suffers from a hiking mishap where he's physically blinded by [something] and subsequently needs to trust that the 118, these people he literally cannot see, will save him. When they pull him to safety, he berates himself for even coming out to Los Angeles in the first place because he's not the kind of guy who does this, he just wanted to do something for him and now he feels stupid. And Eddie (because of course it's Eddie) is just like "no, you didn't do anything wrong. Look, you took a leap of faith (episode title btw). That's more than what most people can say. Maybe it didn't work out in this instance, but who knows how it'll work out tomorrow, or the next day. You don't know the future. None of us do, so maybe stop trying to live according to some giant colossal plan and just... live, and try your best. Isn't that all we can do?" And he watches the guy get airlifted away (thanks Tommy! *coughs even louder*) and it's like his lightbulb moment, like, oh. Yeah. He finally gets it.
8x16: Eddie walks into a church for the first time in years, and for the first time all season. It looks exactly how he remembers; wooden pews, high ceilings, the works. He takes a seat on one of the benches and prays / talks aloud to God and is just like, "I don't really know who you are and I don't know how to be what you want me to be. All my life I've been trying to be what everyone wants me to be to the point where I just don't even know who I am anymore, if I ever knew. So I don't know who you are, but I know I am who you made me to be, and I don't know who that is, but I know that person is enough for me right now. And maybe I'll figure you out along the way, maybe I won't. But, right now, what I know is that i can't be your perfect son because I can't be perfect at all, and I need to let go of the idea that I can and start living my life for me." So he walks out of the church and not much changes, but everything changes. You know?
And, like, obviously the story would need to be flushed out a little more. Obviously, this story centers more of the idea of faith than the idea of explicit guilt, but they're one in the same anyway because you can't have guilt without failed/presumably "failed" expectations. In this case, religious or spiritual expectation. So. I don't know. But there's just something so sexy about the idea of Eddie systematically and intentionally dismantling and releasing himself from all the things that have kept him from growing over the years. Starting with his survivors guilt in S5 and working his way through Catholic guilt in S8, I just love the idea of Eddie being purposeful in his own healing, especially in this post-breakdown era. Plus it'll give him a chance to have a storyline that's not romance-focused cos we've been leaning a bit too heavily into those. 🙃 But anyways. (Next up is his issues with Helena. btw. because we have yet to circle back to his family issues in canon but we certainly need to).
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lover-of-mine · 3 days
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Okay, but I kinda wanna talk about the panic attack conversation with new context, because here's the thing, the wording of that conversation is very on purpose. And Buck is calling Eddie out in a very specific way because what Buck is saying is actually "if you love me you're not going to do that to her" but like, everything about that conversation is crazy. Buck is checking in in a way I feel he's very entitled to considering that he gets Chris if something happens to Eddie, so if Eddie is seeing cardiologists, something might be wrong and I think Eddie gave up the right to privacy about his health when he signed his will, but like, does Buck assume the problem is the shooting because he is still anxious about it? And like, Buck is assuming things are fine with Ana, we have no reason to believe things aren't fine with Taylor, but you don't talk about a relationship you want to be in as just fine, and Buck is talking about loving someone who doesn't love him enough to be all the way in and he's talking about Abby, but is he? The will reveal was a love confession. But halfway done. It was a shield. Eddie hiding behind Chris. "My kid loves her" "Is that enough?". Is Buck saying your kid loves me. You offered him to me. What does it mean? Is that all it takes? If that's all it takes then why aren't you all the way in with me? Why does all I get is a maybe under a condition I can't live with? "Somehow we became a ready made family and I don't know if I'm ready for that" Buck has been taking care of Chris since he found out Chris existed. Someone assumed Eddie, Chris and Buck were a family months into them knowing each other. Is Buck seeing that as Eddie being scared of any type of family? Is Buck seeing that as Eddie being scared of his place in Chris' life? Does he think Eddie would freak out if it was him? That's pretty much the only situation where we see Buck seem genuinely mad at Eddie. Eddie confessed his love hiding behind his child, now he's having all these feelings about someone assuming Ana's place in their life. Is Buck feeling as rejected there because he has no way of knowing if Eddie wouldn't react like that if someone assumed that about them? Because the will is a love confession but is one that Buck can't accept. In his head that is conditional. And the price is something he will never be willing to pay. "If you don't want to hurt Ana, you owe it to her to be honest" "come on, Eddie, if you're not gonna be honest with Frank, at least be honest with me", "look, man, you don't need to pretend with me" was Buck begging for clarification? Was Buck asking if he's allowed to want this? Has Buck been daring Eddie to say it again because he doesn't know if he read what happened right since Eddie didn't mention it again and he can't risk being wrong? Is the miscommunication of this situation even deeper than we imagined? Did Eddie assume Buck rejected what he offered while Buck assumed Eddie didn't love him enough to offer everything? Does Eddie understand that while he offered everything, he put a condition to it that Buck will never take because Buck needs him too much to even consider? Does Eddie understand that he offered Buck everything he ever wanted and put it just out of his reach in a place Buck would never dare to reach for anyway, because he thinks the only way he gets there is if Eddie dies and Eddie dying means he's not actually getting everything he wanted? I wrote in a fic once "I can't ask for more of you, Eddie" "everything is already yours", but do they even realize that that's what's going on? That they are imagining obstacles that could be solved if they were just honest with each other the way they keep begging the other to be? Do they even understand that the only thing between them is the way they keep assuming things and acting on that assumption instead of just asking for clarification? "You don't need to decide right now" does Buck think that Eddie not telling him again means he made a decision already? Are they just looking at each other thinking they can't reach for it????????
Are they just trapped in the moment that gun went off watching the other fall away and helpless to do anything about it??????
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cookinguptales · 8 months
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when I was a small child, I was the unenviable combination of "loves particularly haunting ghost stories" and "is incredibly terrified of everything and cries a lot."
these days my mom is constantly like YOU??? WERE READING WHAT????
I was basically a nervous wreck at all times, and it was mostly because I was constantly reading things that as an adult I reread like "wait what the fuck?" lmao
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lloydfrontera · 7 months
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mmgghh imagine julian having a zoe murphy from deh style breakdown as he tries to reconcile the brother he remembers, the one that abused him for years and years on end, that never brought him anything but pain, that would beat him up for the slightest provocation, with the one that meets him at the academy, the one that saved a city, the one that is working relentlessly to save their family from ruin, the one that defends him from bullies and tells him it was never his fault that others harassed him
just. julian getting to express the rage and confusion and conflicted emotions that would come with the person that abused him for years changing completely out of nowhere and turning into the older brother he'd always wanted.
so don't tell me i didn't have it right don't tell me it wasn't black and white after all you put me through don't say it wasn't true that you were not the monster that i knew
#i talk a lot <3#tged#the greatest estate developer#julian frontera#if i think too hard about the fact that julian forgave his abusive older brother because of the actions of a completely different person#and we never got to see the fall out of him realizing the person he forgave never actually made amends with him#and all his feelings of rage and disgust were completely valid and he never had any reason for feeling guilty about hating his brother#because the person that he grew to care for and protected him was a completely different one. i do start going a little feral not gonna lie#i just!! don't like that julian was made to feel like he was in the wrong for feeling like he was the one that had it hardest!!#cause he did!! he fucking did!!!#this kid was abused physically and verbally since childhood by his older brother. basically ran from home the moment he was legally allowed#to and then also got harassed and humiliated by his classmates at school while all the authorities looked the other way#had it not been for suho transmigrating into lloyd's body (which is an external factor and should not be taken into account)#julian would by all means be allowed to say he had it the roughest of the family!!!#but because lloyd meddled (which is. to be fair. not a bad thing) julian was made to feel like he was being whiny#for thinking he had it rough while his older brother worked his ass off to save their family#i know no one cares about this but i do!!! i have so many feelings about julian!! he deserved better!! i needed more content about him!!#we never even got a scene with him being told that the brother he grew to love and want to make proud was not the brother that abused him#what's the point of it all 😭
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forallthepjostuff · 2 years
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Hey! I've noticed you reblogging chapters one and two of my Covered in Storms, Surrounded by Eyes fic! Thank you so much and I hope you enjoy it, but I wanted to let you know that I am in the process of rewriting it on ao3. There's the link, I'd appreciate it if you checked it out, because I think my writing has improved in terms of characterization and pretty much all around. Again, tysm for taking interest in this fic, it's one of my favorites and I'm excited for the directions it will take in the future.
Hi!
It's already in my bookmarks on ao3 😅 I came across it on there first, and then got excited when I saw that it was a rewrite and that the first few chapters from before you rewrote it were still up, because I love seeing how people's writing style develop and gets more unique over time. I've never seen a fic like it, I've seen ones where another god or goddess claims Percy, but never one where that goddess is Kymopoleia, and I'm really excited to see where it goes.
Also, I like all the ocs you're adding to it. I know liking someone adding ocs in a fanfiction might not be the most popular thing in the world, but you're doing it in a way that adds to the story; to me it's really making Camp Half-Blood seem like a more grounded place, like it's real, with real people who have real personalities, instead of just a setting with extras, which is how I've felt a lot while reading fanfiction.
I might not be 100% explaining this correctly, but it kind of reminds me of how in my small town (3,000 people), everyone knows everyone else's stories, either by hearing it themselves or through whispered gossip. And how sometimes they're nice, but can flip on you in a second if something they perceive as the wrong information comes to light.
Also, I really love how everyone's mentioning stuff that, as the reader, you have no idea about. Because we're going on that learning curve with Percy and finding these things out at the same time as him, it reminds me of how when you're young in a family and no one tells you any family drama stories, because they see no need to or you were too young and nobody mentions it anymore, so once in a while they kinda just offhandedly make a comment about the craziest batshit stories and it's up to you to just go 'hey a crumb of context please?'
So, yeah. I'm really, really interested in seeing the direction it goes in.
#it's a good thing i decided to check my email#because i was practically so deep in your tumblr page that i 100% would've and have before kept looking through it all night#/joke. but also not really#seriously though i'm really excited to see what you decide to do with it because i really love it#tbh it's probably already up there with fishing in alaska by caffeinatedflumadiddle as one of my favorite pjo stories#also sorry for just kind of rambling here but i really am excited to about this story#i know this kind of became jumbled nonsense near the end but that's because this is a great story#and trying to put all my thoughts about it into words isn't working bc my thoughts are kind of just jumbled nonsense too right now#my brain's literally working too fast for words when it comes to everything i like about this story--the one on here and the rewrite on ao3#because i feel like the one on here focuses more on the ocs development but that the rewrite definitely focuses more on the plot#love the more detail and plot centered writing on there by the way#it gives the story more depth and explains the situations better while still having the character development#and still having that sense of drilling 'these big three kids are dangerous and that's why we're afraid of them' into your head#while also making you realize why all the campers are so biased against big three kids and hate them but also panic at the thought of them#i absolutely have more that i can't think of right now because i type so slow i lose the thought before i can make it into words#...bet when you sent this ask you didn't expect to get a fucking behemoth that took an hour and a half to type did you#hope you like it anyway#also i recently experienced a moment like the one in the last paragraph#where my niece (six years younger than me) was complaining about how there's no drama in our family & i got to go 'oh? haven't you heard?'#it was really fun actually#and satisfying to do after being on the recieving end for so many years
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evilminji · 23 days
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Ooooh~ Drink mix up? >.>
Because! Wes DID, in fact, get that dream job. HAS learned... after many, many hours of "beat about the head and shoulders with an ethics pamphlet by his great aunt", to keep his mouth shut! Family curse of Sight? WHAT family curse?
He doesn't see shit! Mind your business.
What're you? A cop?
Look, he sent Fenton a gift basket. He was a shitty, shitty "I have to be RIGHT and nothing else matters!" Stubborn lil asshole of a kid. He got better. Grew up. No one is there best Self during puberty. He DOES, in fact, regret it.
Which is WHY, he is deliberately ignoring Kent's terrible, awful, paper-thin, "who meee~?" Aw shucks BULLSHIT excuse of a disguise, like it isn't blatantly obvious he's Superman. Yep. Nothing to see here! Nothing but us chickens! Mmmmm, morning coffee! Delicious.
But see, here's the THING.
The Itty, bitty, teeny lil PROBLEM...
Wes grew up in Amity "Totally Not Supernatural Hotspot For Centuries" Park. He is... to put it mildly, genetically? A freak. His biology is ALL fucked up. Everyone's is. And it WAS NOT made better by the Fenton's playing fast and loose with their hell basement. The Ectoplasmic NUKE that was that portal.
There is a REASON his morning coffee? Is COVERED. Contained. Fenton brand, LEAD LINED, specialty cups. The sort that can't be EATEN from the inside out. Eroded after a few uses. They're ugly as sin, but they work. He even ordered a few covers from Star's etsy shop. (Apparently he wasn't the only one who hated how ugly they looked. Good for her though, he heard it was doing well.)
He SAYS this? 'Cause his morning brew is less... straight COFFEE... and more... how to put this? A blend? Brew? Potion, really. Like an energy drink. From hell. Or, partially at least, the Zone. It's the combination of roots, seeds, and a few dried berries. Kinda like a tea, actually!
Tasty. Adds this nice fruity, warmth. A zing. Goes GREAT with the coffee. And it really perks you up... if you are Limnal. If you AREN'T? It'll desolve your esophagus like swallowing straight acid. And that's not TOUCHING the... witch-y, more Seer specific bit of the blend.
That stuff is medicinal. You know, "calm the mind" and "mental clarity". That sorta thing. With a good ol helping of "don't blurt out everyone's secrets, you spacey bitch! For the love of God, those are our INSIDE THOUGHTS!". Which? Really helpful! Infinitely less likely to get decked. It's a family staple.
Poisonous, though.
They're fine cause they've basically developed an immunity to that part, but like? Wouldn't recommend. It's why he NEVER shares his drinks. Food? On occasion. If he PLANS it and knows not to add and interesting spices. But DRINKS? Never. Weston family brews are basically NEVER safe.
Which? Begs the Very Important Question ™!
Who's Coffee Is This?
Cause it SURE AS FUCK AINT HIS!
You never realize quite how fast you can go from "completely calm and kinda sleepy" to "bomb strapped to my chest, primal panic AWAKE" until it happens to you. His coffee was ON HIS DESK. People have passed by. He talked to them. Cups put down and picked up. Lazy early morning. He doesn't even register, really, as his chair crashes to the ground.
He's shouting.
People confused. They don't realize yet. His head whips around, looking for that distinct cover. Before it's too late. Before someone takes that fatal sip. He spots it. Bolting from his desk. Crashing through coworkers, over desks. Chaos and outrage. "It's 'just' coffee!" They cry.
Kent turns, confused. Pretending. Raises his (HIS! Oh god!) cup to his lips, unknowing. Wes SCREAMS a warning. But he doesn't listen. "It's 'just' coffee" They never listen. Curse of Cassandra. God's damn it. This is why his family fucking CONVERTED!
He TACKLES the man of steel.
RIPS his cup away from him, knows his eyes are frantic. How much have you had?! Spit it out! Wes voice ECHOES in the sudden silence. I'm a META, Kent! It could KILL YOU!
And oh, Oh NOW they get it. Or perhaps it is the burn in his mouth that finally registers. He rolls, spits oil slick nebulae that eat away the floor. There is blood mixed within it. It took mere moments. Superman stares, transfixed and horrified, as Wes shakes. He... he should probably get off of him.
He'll move in a moment.
When his legs no longer feel weak from terror.
The news room is in chaos. Lane kneeling by her husband, Perry trying to do damage control. He... he's probably gonna lose his job, isn't he? Wes wants to cry. Protection laws only go so far, after all. And warning his boss about his dietary needs means jack shit, after an incident like this. Beloved as Kent is. Not that anyone likely believed him.
They never do.
And now he's nearly killed Superman.
@hypewinter @hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @nerdpoe @lolottes @babbling-babull @mutable-manifestation @dcxdpdabbles
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appocalipse · 1 month
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that guy ⊹ steve harrington
summary: After he's been to yet another failed date with yet another random pretty girl, Steve Harrington, your best friend, stops by at the diner your family owns for a late-night chat, same as he'd done a thousand times before. Steve is totally unaware of how much he's hurting you with his endless parade of dates, because after all — the two of you are only friends and nothing more, right? It's not like you have any secret feelings for him… | 2.6k words
── ࣪˖ ࣪ ⊹ ࣪ ˖ ──
The moment Steve steps through the glass doors of the diner, you wonder, for about the millionth time that month alone, what is it that you've done so wrong to deserve this kind of punishment.
It's Friday night, and on Friday nights, Steve Harrington goes on dates. It's just like clockwork, really: he meets a pretty girl, thinks she's the one, takes her out on a date, realizes quickly enough that she isn't quite what he was looking for, then comes here after having dropped her back home to sulk with you, in the diner that your family runs, still clad in the outfit he'd chosen especially for his failed date.
To be honest, he never looks sad, per se — more like disappointed. Frustrated, maybe.
You watch as he weaves around tables occupied by laughing friends, past booths filled with couples sharing desserts, then slides into a seat in front of you at the bar. Steve sits down with an exhausted sigh, ruffling up his hair before shooting you a tired smile.
"Hi."
You don't look up from where you're polishing the counter. "Bad date again?"
"Not even close. She talked about horses non-stop."
A quiet laugh slips past your lips despite yourself, and finally, you tear your gaze off the dark wooden surface of the counter to look up at him; he's got this pleased little smile on his face, the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly in the way they always do whenever he succeeds at making you laugh, even if just a little.
How are you supposed to keep acting like nothing's wrong when he looks at you like that?
You clear your throat awkwardly and make yourself busy stacking clean glasses next to the coffee machine.
"So...not the one, I take it?"
Steve leans forward against the counter and props his head up with his hand, sighing deeply.
"I'm starting to think she won't ever show up," he says quietly, running his other hand through his hair. You chance another glance at him and note how genuinely worried he looks. It breaks your heart almost as much as it annoys you. "What is it that's wrong with me, huh? I just don't get it."
"Nothing is wrong with you."
"You don't need to be nice to me. We've been friends since forever, remember?"
The word 'friends' makes you wince a little bit inside, but you hide the reaction behind a neutral frown. "Do you think there's something wrong with me? Because I haven't found the one yet either, you know."
Steve's expression softens as he looks at you, and once again you feel that horrible twinge in your stomach that you wish would just stop already.
"It's different. I mean—you're not actively trying to find someone." He reaches out to pull one of the half-melted mints out from the glass bowl on the counter and pops it into his mouth with a shrug. "I go out looking for her and she just doesn't come. If she even exists, that is."
"She does."
"Well, thanks for the vote of confidence, but I wouldn't hold my breath. God, why am I such an idiot, y'know?" Steve slumps over the counter with a groan, burying his face into his crossed arms. "My love life is a trainwreck."
"At least you have one."
He glances up at you curiously and lifts an eyebrow. "What does that mean?"
"Nothing. Forget it. Do you want some pie?"
You're not about to tell him what you've only admitted to yourself mere months ago — that you're actually hopelessly, madly, stupidly in love with him, and that you have been ever since the two of you were just dumb kids racing around your parents' diner.
What makes it even worse is that you had no idea your feelings went that deep until Steve started going on these dates of his again. Before then, everything was normal — you met up every weekend and binged on candy, watched bad movies on your couch, drove around town together blasting The Clash on his BMW's speakers...it was good.
Until it wasn't.
"Wait, c'mon, you can't just leave me hanging like that," Steve presses. He shifts a little on his stool to better face you, then gestures at you with his hands. "You've clearly got something you wanna say, so, like—hit me. Lay it on me."
"Nothing. I'm just saying...at least you're trying, you know," you say carefully, measuring each word before speaking them. "And at least you're the one doing the rejecting. Could be worse."
Steve's eyebrows rise high up on his forehead and he looks at you incredulously. "Whoa, wait—are you trying to tell me you've been rejected?"
You busy yourself by filling two tall glasses with soda, then slide one to his side of the counter and keep the other for yourself. "Uh...kind of, yeah. But it's fine."
"But who the hell would even do that?" he blurts out. There's anger in his voice all of a sudden, a defensive fire in his eyes that makes you feel as if someone has punched you in the gut. "To you? You're like, the nicest person on the planet, and super pretty to boot. That's just—that's crazy!"
Your heart gives a violent little jump in your chest. He thinks you're pretty. Steve Harrington thinks you're pretty.
Pretty as a friend, you correct yourself immediately, and sigh as you sip your drink. Of course, it's nothing more than that — just meaningless words spoken in a moment of unthinking kindness.
"Seriously, who?" he presses on. "Give me a name. I'll fight him."
"You mean like you fought Jonathan Byers?" you smile behind your glass, looking at him from over its rim.
Steve looks embarrassed at the memory and drops his gaze for a second or two before meeting your eyes again with a playful little smile of his own. "Different situation, okay, but that's not the point. So? Who's the guy?"
"You...don't know him," you hedge.
"It's Hawkins. I know the stray cats here by name."
"Fine, well, even if you did know him, it doesn't matter. He didn't reject me, exactly...not really."
Steve frowns a little. "Okay, you're gonna have to start making sense now. This is hurting my head."
The funny thing is, he actually looks confused, as if he can't possibly fathom the idea of someone rejecting you. It's sweet, really — way too sweet for your liking, especially when you know fully well he doesn't see you in the way you'd want him to.
You lower your gaze to avoid his and instead focus on drawing random shapes on the counter with your index finger, where tiny droplets of condensation from your glass have pooled up on the dark wood. "I mean, I never really told him how I felt. Not directly. It just…never happened."
"Oh. Well, then how do you even know if he feels the same way?" he asks you, looking rather doubtful.
You steal another glance at him and almost regret it instantly. His eyes are trained on your face, patient and attentive like you're the only thing worth watching in the world. It makes you feel horribly small and selfish and guilty, because after all, what right do you have to want him when he so clearly wants someone else?
You feel like you could cry. You might, if you don't distract yourself with something fast enough.
"I just know. Do you want some pie? I'll go get you some pie."
Without waiting for a response, you rush off to the kitchen even though there's plenty of pies sitting on the display counter at the bar, and you make a beeline straight for the back exit.
The alley behind the diner is blissfully empty as usual, just a lonely dumpster and a handful of sad-looking shrubs and weeds peeking out from under the concrete.
No, you aren't going to cry.
This is stupid.
You press your back against the rough brick wall of the diner and breathe in deep the warm night air, then exhale slowly as you count to ten in your head.
When the door opens behind you and the diner's familiar chatter and clatter of cutlery spill into the alley, you wince, mentally cursing yourself for being so goddamn weak. You should have known better.
You don't have to look up to know that it's him.
"Are you hiding from me?" Steve's voice comes, quiet and curious and maybe just a little bit hurt, even.
"I got...suddenly nauseous," you explain weakly, still refusing to look up and meet his eyes.
There's a long stretch of silence, and you feel Steve move closer to you until he's leaning against the wall by your side. You finally look up and find him smiling, this gentle, amused little thing that makes your traitorous heart skip a beat.
"You look just fine to me."
You stare up at the sky, head against the wall. "I thought I was gonna throw up."
He's still watching you, you can tell; you're keenly aware of his eyes on you, so much so that your skin prickles at the attention. "No, you didn't."
"No, I didn't," you admit with a sigh, and turn your head to finally look at him. He's got this little half-smile on his lips, the very same one you fell for years ago, and you curse yourself silently for never learning how to let him go. Really let him go.
"Hey. Listen. You don't have to tell me, okay?" Steve says gently, pushing himself off the wall to step closer to you. He brings his hand up to your face and tucks a loose lock of hair behind your ear, letting his fingertips linger on the edge of your jaw for the briefest of moments, just long enough for you to wonder whether he knows what he's doing to you.
You don't dare to move. You're afraid of breaking whatever spell has seemingly come over him.
"I should've never asked. That was selfish."
"Forget it," you say.
He's standing close now, close enough that you have to tilt your chin up to be able to look up at him properly. There's a strange kind of tension in his eyes, something dark and unsure and tentative, and his gaze darts down to your lips just the slightest bit.
You're fairly sure you're just seeing what you want to see, your foolish heart playing tricks on you. But you panic nonetheless, feeling a sudden, irrational fear that if he moves any closer, he'll realize the truth — that you're a liar and a coward, that you've been harboring these feelings of yours for him for years.
"I should—I should go. Back inside," you mutter, pointing vaguely at the door with your thumb. "In there."
"Sure, yeah. Okay. In there," he echoes, not making a single move to leave. "Not out here."
"Yup. Exactly. In there."
"So you said."
"Yep."
The wall of the diner is digging into your spine uncomfortably, and your mouth is dry, and your knees feel weak, and your stomach is doing somersaults, and the longer he stares at you with those eyes of his the more you feel like you're burning from the inside out and—
He's not moving. All he does is look at you, really look at you, as if it's the first time he's really looked, as if he's seeing something that wasn't there before.
"Okay, so—"
You try to push past him towards the door, but Steve grabs your arm, making you stop dead in your tracks. He lets go as soon as you look up at him, lifting his hand in front of him in an apologetic gesture.
"Sorry. I'm sorry," he says. He swallows hard and rubs his palm on the front of his jeans, a nervous little habit you think he's always had. He runs his hand through his hair, mussing up the carefully gelled strands, and it's probably the first time you've ever seen him look so flustered.
He laughs nervously and gestures at the ground with his hands as he speaks. "Look, this is just—this is just crazy, okay, but I think I, uh, maybe sort of realized something."
You blink at him, not quite certain you're hearing him correctly.
"Realized what?" you ask, the words barely more than a whisper.
Steve clears his throat and nods at you, seemingly pleased that you've finally spoken. "Yeah, well, this is stupid, but you know how you're always telling me to listen to my gut?"
"You're not making a whole lot of sense right now, Steve."
"Just bear with me for a sec, okay? This is like, totally new to me." He holds his palms up, and you notice his hands are shaking a little. "I just need a minute, alright?"
He breathes in deep and exhales slowly, then shoots you an apologetic look.
"Sorry, this is just...really weird," he confesses. "Weirdly real."
"You're freaking me out," you tell him, but Steve only smiles at you.
"Maybe I should just show you. Because, I mean, what if I'm wrong? That'd be terrible, obviously."
"Steve."
"Yeah, I know, but hear me out, okay?" he says quickly, and takes another step closer. You stand your ground this time, if only because you don't trust yourself to actually move without your legs giving out. "So, look. Here's the thing. You're, like—you're one of the most important people in my life. You've been there for me when nobody else was, and I...you mean a lot to me."
"Steve—"
"Shut up, you're ruining the moment."
He takes another step forward until he's crowding you against the wall, hand coming to rest next to your head on the brick. He's close, so close that you can smell the scent of his cologne and shampoo and laundry detergent, and if you were to lean in even the slightest bit, your faces would bump.
Steve is a little out of breath, his lips parted ever so slightly. And he's still looking at you with that strange, searching expression of his.
"Is this okay?" he whispers.
"I don't—what?"
Your voice catches in your throat. There's no room for doubt in his eyes now, not even the tiniest, slightest sliver of uncertainty left.
"This," Steve murmurs.
He tilts his head to the side a little and leans in until you're sure your noses are touching, and you feel your eyes slip closed in anticipation.
"Is this okay?" he repeats in a whisper. "Please tell me I'm not crazy."
"I think I am."
His lips brush yours. It feels like an accident, doesn't last long enough to be anything but a dream. You can still taste the faint, sweet trace of sugar and mint on your tongue when he pulls away, though.
"Just to be clear," Steve whispers, his fingers brushing lightly over the skin of your neck, tracing invisible lines that make you shiver, "am I the guy from earlier? The one you like?"
You don't have it in you to deny it anymore.
"Yes. It's you."
A wide grin breaks out across his face, and suddenly he's everywhere; he cups your face in his hands, pressing eager, fervent kisses along the line of your jaw, trailing hot and open-mouthed down the side of your neck.
You giggle helplessly, grabbing Steve by his collar to pull him away from you and up to your eye level. He's breathing just as heavily as you are, his hair messy and his eyes bright.
"How do you do this to me, huh?" he pants, kissing your forehead, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth. "You just—you just completely knock me out."
A pleasant little thrill rushes up your spine at that.
"Oh yeah?"
"Completely."
You kiss him this time.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 months
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Came back wrong Steve, but it’s so subtle it takes them forever to notice.
It doesn’t help that he didn’t actually die. No one assumes you can come back wrong if you never went away.
But after everyone’s healing, and Eddie is definitely back wrong, there’s little things that start to add up.
Like he can see at night way better than ever.
He prefers his steaks rare now, but thinks it’s disgusting when Eddie needs to drink blood.
He had a slight tremor in his hand after the first run in with Vecna, but it’s gone now.
He doesn’t get migraines anymore.
He rarely feels like he actually needs sleep, but he can sleep if he lays down and closes his eyes.
It’s all just shrugged off.
Until they’re downtown shopping, him and Eddie and Robin and Max, looking for some new clothes for Robin’s internship. They’re on the sidewalk talking about which store to try next out of the few options they have, when a car’s tires screech and they hear honking and yelling.
Before anyone realizes what’s happening, Steve’s got the car stopped with his hands.
It was only a foot away from hitting all of them on the sidewalk.
Everyone’s looking at him like he’s grown two heads, including the driver of the car.
He wipes his hands on his pants, waves at the driver, and turns back to his friends and boyfriend.
“I think I’ve got whatever Eddie’s got but in a lower dose,” Steve says with a smile.
———
Later, after the chaos of explaining everything to all the kids and Hopper, who insisted on keeping an eye on him for the next few days, Steve and Eddie are in bed and talking about things that Steve can do that isn’t normal.
“Oh my god.”
“What?” Steve asks, suddenly nervous.
“That’s why you don’t need a break!”
Steve rolled his eyes.
“No seriously! I just thought it was your body’s way of keeping up with me. It’s just that you’re also at least a little inhuman,” Eddie kissed him. “This is great!”
“Is it?”
“Yeah! We can go all night if we want. Actually, we should see if there’s a limit-“
Steve rolled over and ignored Eddie’s rambling, but smiled fondly at the thought of sharing something with him like this.
Tomorrow they could test whatever Eddie wanted, but tonight, he was gonna let himself be grateful that whatever humanity had been lost was replaced with plenty of space to love Eddie and protect his family.
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astrow1zar6 · 4 months
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Astro Observations-014
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If you wanna date someone who’s basically impossible to get to know date a Scorpio moon. I find they really don’t trust anyone. Not even close friends that have known them for years. Any sign of betrayal even if it’s small will cause this sign to never tell you certain things again. You guys need to realize not everyone is trying to hurt you.
A lot of Scorpio Venus’s/mars grew up seeing a lot of jealousy & manipulation from relationship’s (mostly from family) they normally pick up from this and carries it to their relationships.
Libra placements will flirt with people they have no interest in for attention. They break a lot of hearts. They act like they aren’t aware they do it but they definitely are. Y’all can’t mess with ppls feeling like that 😕
Aquarius sun women are either really popular and social or really outcasted and antisocial
Aquarius moons can be really mean when people become too emotional around them. I believe tho ironically this is the most emotional Aquarius placement. They hate dealing with others emotions because their emotions are so deep themselves that dealing with other’s problems can become too overwhelming.
Pisces risings are so secretive about their romantic relationships (Libra in 8th house) most people never know who they’re dating or talking too. They prefer a private love life.
Aquarius Venus’s are fashion icons. They can make some of the weirdest pieces look so expensive
Sagittarius and Geminis are the most compatible pair of opposites imo. I’ve seen these signs stay together for soooo long
Leo moons have the least confidence out of all the leo placements I noticed. They are really sensitive and the smallest ounce of disapproval can break these people. Be gentle with them plz🥺
Virgo suns all look so clean, they also smell like heaven too (ESPECIALLY with a Leo Venus) they all give princess vibes.
People with a 12th house taurus value stability sooo much but can never seem to settle their restless nature. This is one of their biggest challenges (cuz of their Gemini rising)
Whatever element you lack in your chart you’re more likely to find people that have that element. Ex: if you lack water placements, you’ll be more attracted to water dominants because they give you what you lack in a way.
Capricorn risings usually hate their smiles, even if there’s nothing wrong with it. A lot feel like their smile ruins their face.
When you have a lot of 12th house placements people normally make assumptions about you that aren’t even close to who you actually are.
Pisces men are the most confusing in a relationship you never know if they actually like you or not. They are so charming and lovey but deep down it feels kinda fake?
Taurus mars work the best when they are working with their hands or they’re working in nature
Virgo mercury’s are amazing writers and usually love reading. Many can be successful novelists.
I feel like the least compatible compatible signs are Taurus and Virgo. I’ve seen the spark die so quick in these relationships and they normally stay together because it “works” practically. But I notice they get more irritated with each-other as time goes.
I notice men that have a lot of kids from different women have a Jupiter in their 5th house. Or just a lot of 5th house placements.
Venus in 5th housers tend to have more girls than boys. Their first child was probably a girl. Also indicates very attractive children.
1K notes · View notes
writingwithciara · 2 months
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worth the wait ~matt sturniolo~
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summary: 5 times matt wanted to tell his best friend he loved her + the 1 time he actually went through with it
word count: 3.8k
pairing: matt sturniolo x best friend!reader
notes: i love the 5+1 fics because they are just so cute. and who exudes cuteness more than our very own matthew sturniolo?
masterlist
december 31, 2013/january 1, 2014: the first time he knew & wanted to express it
it was new years eve and mary lou was throwing a party for her friends and family to celebrate the arrival of 2013.
a lot had gone on that year and she figured the best way to unwind would be to have all her closest friends together under one roof.
y/n was best friends with the matt and her parents were close to his own parents so inviting them over was the first thing that crossed marylou's mind.
y/n walked in like she owned the place and went right to matt and chris' bedroom.
"hey guys."
"what's up?" nick was the first one to greet her, as chris and matt were both occupied with a video game.
"remember how on christmas we were discussing the fact that people kiss at midnight on new years? and then we were deciding who we would all kiss when the clock struck 12?"
"of course i remember. what about it though?" chris set his controller down and the boys all looked at y/n.
"you guys were arguing over who wanted to kiss me at midnight but to settle it, i decided on my own."
"okay." matt leaned forward in his bean bag. "so who's it going to be?"
"you'll find out at midnight." she winked and skipped out of the room. the boys just glanced at each other, trying to figure out who she picked.
as midnight slowly approached, the boys were starting to feel sleepy. y/n had decided on kissing chris at midnight but when she looked over at him, he was passed out on the couch so she shook her head and made another decision.
matt noticed nick passed out too so he gently nudged y/n.
"guess that just leaves you." she smiled through a yawn.
"was i your last pick?"
"yeah. sorry."
"no. it's okay. at least i'm getting picked." he shrugged nonchalantly.
y/n just looked at him and smiled when she heard the adults start counting. "you ready?"
"is this going to be your first kiss?" he looked at his lap.
"nope. kissed donnie ryder on the last day of school before the break."
"oh okay." matt glanced over at the tv screen. "2 seconds."
"1" y/n leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on matt's lips. "happy new year, matty."
he was only 10 years old but to him, the kiss meant everything.
by the time y/n's parents were ready to leave, they noticed she was passed out on the couch with the boys. her head resting in chris' lap. mary lou looked down at the kids and smiled.
"you can leave her ere for the night. she'll be alright."
"are you sure?" y/n's mom glanced back and forth between her daughter and mary loud.
"of course. i'm sure the kids would all appreciate it in the morning."
"okay. thank you mary lou." y/n's parents smiled and headed home, leaving their child in the care of their best friend.
when the kids woke up in the morning, y/n was on the floor and matt's arm was laying across her face. she carefully moved it off her face and he woke up.
"i'm sorry. didn't mean to wake you." y/n looked at the other 2 who were fast asleep before looking back at matt.
"it's all good." he smiled and stretched. "happy new years, y/n."
"happy new years, matty." she repeated the response from a few hours ago and matt admired her for it.
there was something in the way she called him 'matty' that made him realize that at only 10 years old, he was in love with his best friend.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
august 1, 2016: the second time matt wanted to express his feelings
ever since they kissed on new years, matt couldn't stop thinking about y/n. she occupied every vacant thought he had and it bugged him. she was his best friend and he didn't want to be feeling this way.
at his 13th birthday, his brothers had all their friends over and although he loved nathan's company, he was always looking for y/n. he found her after 5 seconds of searching, which he knew was a little odd.
"happy birthday to my favorite triplet." she whispered as she pulled him into a tight hug.
"your favorite triplet? thought i was your overall favorite."
"well if it wasn't for justin, you would be."
"right. justin." matt looked around the room until his eyes landed on his older brother. y/n had revealed to him just last month that she had harboring a crush on justin for the last 2 years and it bothered matt. he understood that girls sometimes had crushes on older men but why couldn't she have a crush on him instead?
"he's so cute." she stared in justin's direction and matt felt the pit in his stomach begin to form.
"y/n, he's 19. ain't that a little too old for you?"
"maybe. but you can't help who you love."
there it was. the one word he wanted to express to her. the one word he couldn't figure out how to say to her. the only word he struggled with.
"no, you really can't." he looked at her briefly before looking down at his feet. "it's not really love, is it?"
"course not. think it's just a phase really. but i can't help it. we grew up with him always protecting us. it's admirable."
"yeah yeah. whatever." matt threw his hand out, gesturing that the idea was nonsense, causing y/n to roll her eyes playfully.
"it's time for cake." nick appeared, grabbing the two of them and dragging them into the kitchen towards the triplets cakes. each one of them was different but so were the boys so it matched perfectly.
"make a wish." mary lou smiled and pointed the camera at the boys as they each blew out their candles.
"i wished for a lot of candy."
"me too." chris smiled at nick and they both turned towards matt. "what did you wish for?"
matt, ever a believer in superstitions, knew that if he told anyone his wish, it wouldn't come true. he glanced to his right and smiled at y/n. "sorry boys. if i tell you, it won't come true."
his wish was to finally be able to be with y/n in the future. he didn't want to screw that up in any way.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
june 1, 2020: the third time he wanted to tell her but couldn't
"i think i want to start making youtube videos." matt sighed as he flopped down on y/n's bed.
they were almost 17 and neither of them had solid plans for after high school.
"i think that's a wonderful idea, matty." y/n sat up and looked at her friend. "what are you going to make them about?"
"well nick, chris and i were talking the other day and we came to the conclusion that we'll just film videos in the car somewhere and come up with random topics each time. or maybe we could do challenge videos every friday. what sounds better?"
"i like the car video idea. but i also like the idea of watching you guys go through challenges. especially if they're one of those gross food ones or something." y/n giggled at matt's expression.
"think the boys will be up for both?" matt sat up straight and looked at his feet. "what if we fail at this? what am i going to do?"
"matthew bernard, you are incredible. you'll figure life out and if the youtube career doesn't pan out the way you want it to, i'll be here to help you figure out your next step, alright?"
"okay." he looked up at her and smiled. "wanna film with us?"
"i don't think your female fans would appreciate that very much."
"we don't have fans."
"not yet. but you will. and you're going to be the favorite. the girls are going to love you."
"you think so?"
"of course i do." she smiled. "just don't forget me when you're famous."
"i could never forget you, y/n."
right then, matt felt like he could lean forward and kiss her. but he didn't. he restrained himself. instead, he brought up the topic y/n was trying to forget about.
"so, how's your crush on justin going?"
when she giggled and hit him with a pillow, he felt so much love for her. it was insane.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
august 1, 2022: the fourth time he wanted to tell her
the triplets had just turned 19 and they were throwing a party. even though it was just their group of friends, matt was feeling anxious. he didn't like crowds and his eyes roamed the group of people, looking for his favorite pair of eyes. when he couldn't find her, he felt his chest tighten. his grip on the cup he was holding began turning his knuckles white.
"hey, matty. wanna go hang out in your room for a bit? how's that sound?" y/n whispered beside him. he looked down at her and nodded slowly. she grabbed his cup, set it on the counter and guided him back to his bedroom. she passed nick on the way and he nodded in understanding.
when y/n sat matt on his bed, he looked at her and smiled softly.
"thank you." he let out a sigh. y/n sat next to him and wiped the lone tear off his cheek.
"anytime." she smiled in return.
the two of them sat in silence for a few minutes before matt spoke up again.
"i know they're my friends out there but i just...i just..." he couldn't form the right words. y/n placed her hand on his and smiled.
"i get it, matt. you don't have to say anything."
"you don't have to stay in here with me, you know? they're your friends too."
"they may be, but you're my best friend and i feel you need the company more."
"thank you. i really appreciate it." he scooted up the bed until his back was against the headboard. y/n mimicked his actions and rested her head on his shoulder. he placed a kiss to the top of her head and lingered for a few extra seconds.
a few seconds he felt came off as a little more than platonic. but even if y/n noticed, she didn't say a thing. matt knew she was thinking about it though and he knew she didn't bring it up because she didn't want to make him uncomfortable & he couldn't love her more for it.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
february 14, 2023: the fifth time he wanted to tell her but couldn't
valentines day was a day mainly pointed at couples or people who wanted to spend a lot of money to get someone to love them. most of the time, it worked.
but for matt, it didn't.
he spent the past 5 months trying to get over y/n. after the birthday party, he figured that after almost 10 years of being in love with her and not being able to find the courage to tell her, he would just give up and try to focus his love elsewhere.
it resulted in multiple one night stands that never left him feeling as good as y/n did when she was around. he was too far in love with her to forget.
so when valentine's day slowly approached, he devised a plan to tell her how he felt. he bought her favorite flowers and bought her favorite food since she didn't like the traditional chocolate and roses. he also bought her balloons because he knew she liked the way the helium sounded. he knew it was ridiculous to spend money on someone but y/n was worth it to him.
he set everything up in his bedroom and waited for her arrival in the living room.
it was over an hour of waiting before she came through the front door, using the key he gave her.
"i am so sorry i'm late. i know we were supposed to hang out today but work was crazy swamped and my boss asked me to stay after my shift to help clean up the dinner rush."
"it's okay. we're not on any schedule." matt stood up from his spot on the couch and approached her. she smiled at him and let him guide her back to the couch. "you can pick the movie."
"i always pick the movie though. don't you want to pick just this once?"
"no. this is your day. i'm letting you pick. besides, i enjoy it when you pick. it always makes you happy."
"you're the best, matty." she kissed his cheek and rested her head on his shoulder. she pressed play on 'tangled' and even though they had watched the movie together about a hundred times, matt enjoyed it because y/n did. it was her favorite movie and he knew that.
halfway through the movie, the doorbell rang. y/n groaned in protest when matt removed his arm from around her shoulder and stood up.
"it's the food i ordered. be right back." matt ran down the stairs and grabbed the food, handed the driver a $20 tip and went back up to the living room. "happy valentine's day." he set the bag down and y/n opened it.
"you ordered my favorite meal?"
"of course." he smiled and watched as y/n began eating the food. she offered him a bite but he shook his head and she continued eating. when she finished, she looked at matt and he swore he felt his heart skip a beat. she had some sauce on the corner of her mouth and matt thought it was oddly attractive.
"what are you staring at, weirdo?"
"you got a little something right here." he grabbed the napkin and dabbed her lips gently. her eyes briefly closed at the contact and matt took this second to admire her. he slowly pulled the napkin away and stood up quickly.
"you alright?"
"i almost forgot that i set something up in my room for you." he started walking to his room but stopped. "are you staying the night?"
"yeah. i'm too exhausted to drive home and i don't want to bother you for a ride since you already do so much for me." y/n approached him and smiled. "now let's go see what you have set up for me."
when y/n's eyes landed on the balloons, she gasped. then she saw the vase of flowers on matt's beside table & it was like she was in heaven.
she stood there in silence for a little too long so matt grabbed her hand. she was startled but she looked up at him with nothing but adoration in her eyes.
"you are so perfect, matty. and when you do this for a girl for real, she's going to love you endlessly."
he felt like shouting 'this is for real. why can't you see that?' at her, but he didn't. he wanted to tell her he loved her but he had no idea how to prove it.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
march 1 2024: the one time he was finally able to tell her
matt had been silently pining for his best friend for over 10 years and he knew that he needed to face his fears and finally let it out. he wanted to tell chris and ask him for help but he knew that would be a lost cause.
nick was almost no better than chris but he knew that at least with nick, he wouldn't get some bullshit back.
he slowly approached nick's door and knocked. "hey. it's matt. can i ask you for some advice?"
nick opened the door and looked at his brother. "what's up?"
"i need your advice on how to express your feelings for someone."
"just tell y/n how you feel. don't be too grand with the gestures because she hates those. make her favorite meal and jsut tell her everything."
"how do you know who-"
"please, matthew. it's been 10 years. i almost told her for you on her birthday last year but she was pulled away by chris just in time so you're lucky. and if you don't tell her soon, she's going to end up with some loser asshole and she'll be out of our lives forever. you don't want that, do you?"
"absolutely not. i can't let her out of my life." he smiled and went to turn away but a thought went through his mind and he frowned. "what if i tel lher and she freaks out? she'll be out of my life then too."
"she's not going to freak out. she may not like to admit it but she's been in love with you for the last 5 years at least. and before you ask me how i know, i'm attentive. i see things most people don't. but you need to tell her today before you lose her for good."
"why today?"
"she's got a date with simon at 6 and if all goes well, then you'll have lost your chance."
"fuck." he checked his phone and ran down the stairs quickly, throwing in and "i gotta go." on the way down. he grabbed his keys and ran to his car. fearing that he could lose y/n, he felt the car speeding up and when he pulled onto the familiar street, he got nervous and looked at the clock
4:58 pm
he parked in her driveway and knocked on her door. when she answered it, she smiled.
"oh hey matt. what's up?"
"we need to talk." he gently pushed himself past her and went to her kitchen to grab a root beer from the fridge.
"okay. and i repeat. what's up?"
"why didn't you tell me you had a date with simon?"
"what do you mean?"
"nick told me that you had a date with simon tonight. at 6. why didn't you tell me about it?"
"that was last night, matt."
"oh.
"and it wasn't much of a date." she sighed and opened her own bottle of root beer. "it was nice at first but after dinner, we were in his car and he kept putting his hand on my thigh. i told him to quit and he did. at first. but then he kept doing it and each time, his hand went further up." matt watched as y/n's sighed. "i freaked out on him and he called me a prude, then left me on the side of the road. so i walked all the way back here."
"why didn't you call me? i would've come to get you, you know that."
"i was embarrassed and i didn't want you to see me like that." she sighed. "i just felt so.... not good enough."
"okay, no. you don't get to feel that way after defending your own rights. it's ridiculous. he should be the one feeling like shit for the way he treated you. and i swear to god. if i ever see him out in public, i'm kicking his ass."
"matt, relax. it's fine now." y/n set her bottle down and put her hand on his arm. "the fact that you're here is enough to make me feel better."
"good." he looked at her. "for the record, you're more than good enough. he was the one who wasn't good enough for you. i don't think there's anyone alive who deserves you. you're too good of a person."
"well i want to find love eventually, matty." she sighed and looked down at her feet. "i don't want to be too good that nobody deserves me. and i have so much love to give but if nobody deserves me, then who am i gonna give it to?"
"give it to me."
"huh?" she looked up with wide eyes, not believing the words she had just heard.
"give your love to me. i know i am far from worthy but i can definitely do better than simon or any other guy in your life. i've built up so much love for you for the past 10 years and not being able to express it has been killing me. you are the single greatest thing in my life and i don't want anyone else to be with you."
"matt, are you serious?"
"100% serious." matt placed his hand gently on the side of her face. "god, i have loved you since i was 10 years old and you were my first kiss. new years day of 2013 was a life changer for me. it awakened love that i didn't think was possibly so young. and when i was going to tell you, you told me you had a crush on justin. not gonna lie, i cried that night. it sucked so bad." he chuckled. "but i've struggled to come up with a good way to tell you how i've been feeling. it sucked having to watch you with other guys for 10 years."
"matt, i love you. so much. your stupid face. your stupid smile. your stupid tattoos. even though none of you is actually stupid." y/n smiled. "i've loved you since your 9th birthday. and on new years when you asked if you were my last pick for the kiss, i lied. you were my first pick but i didn't want to seem too eager. and i also lied about kissing donnie ryder before break. all he did was kiss my cheek and wish me a merry christmas. you were my first real kiss."
"i hated donnie ryder for years because of that." matt chuckled. "but im glad i was your first."
"we may have been 10 but if i recall correctly, you were the best kiss i've ever had. and i've kissed a lot of guys since then."
"okay, i didn't need to know that. i just confessed my love to you and you're telling me there's been many guys as if i didn't know already." matt smirked. "but i do like that i was the best one."
"i think i need a new sample."
"oh is that so?" matt looked down at y/n as she inched closer. "if a new sample is what you want, then it's what you'll get.
he pulled her in and placed his lips on hers gently. she kissed back immediately and when she smirked into the kiss, matt wrapped his arms around her hips and deepened the kiss.
more than 10 years of feelings was being poured out into the kiss and it was the best kiss either of them had ever had.
"since i was your first kiss, can i also be your last?" matt asked in a low whisper as he pulled away slowly.
"yes. absolutely. a thousand times yes." y/n smirked and kissed him again. and again.
they couldn't get enough of each other and their unspoken commitment to each other was all they needed.
🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸
taglist: @worldlxvlys @fearfam69691
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daycourtofficial · 4 months
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A Bite Sized Romance
Summary: you offer to make dinner for Azriel, but he gives you half-assed reasons as to why he can’t make it.
Author’s note: I love love love this idea it’s been floating around my head for a LONG time 💕
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“Have you ever had ratatouille?” You ask Azriel, taking a bite of the dish in front of you.
Every Thursday, you and the shadowsinger go out to a different restaurant, usually in Velaris, occasionally in other courts. Seeing the shadowsinger could be difficult during the week, especially with your busy schedule, so you two set aside Thursday nights to eating dinner together.
Your brain had a hard time understanding that these were not necessarily dates, even though that is exactly what Cassian, Mor, the whole IC, and even Azriel and yourself call them.
“No, what’s rat patootie?” He says, taking a bite of his pasta.
“Ratatouille,” you correct, sighing wistfully, “it’s a traditional dish my mom used to make when I was a kid. I don’t think annyone in Velaris makes it. This dish kind of reminds me of it, but it’s not the same.”
You sit up, a smile stretching across your face. “Maybe next Thursday I’ll cook it for us. It’s so much better homemade - what do you say?”
He stills at your words, almost choking on his food. Through coughs he tells you, “surely there’s somewhere we can go for it, I wouldn’t want to trouble you with cooking.”
“But I like cooking,” you object. “And despite the copious amounts of meals we’ve shared together, I don’t think I’ve ever cooked for you.”
He doesn’t want to budge, so you pull out the big guns.
You pout your lip, making your eyes look as sad and endearing as possible, “please, Az? It reminds me of being a kid again. And I’d love to share that with you.”
Mother forsake him, he couldn’t say no to your sad, puppy dog eyes.
“Fine,” he grumbles, sure he’ll figure a way out of it before Thursday comes. Perhaps he could find a way to get impaled.
You squeal, “oooh you’re going to love it!”
-
Thursday was fast approaching, and Azriel was trying to use every excuse in the book to keep this dinner from happening. He told you Rhys had to send him on a mission that night, which you immediately turned around and went to Rhys’s office and asked him to send someone else.
Rhys, having no idea what you were talking about, sees Azriel in the doorway who tells him mind to mind, “come on, say you have to send me.”
Rhys sends the equivalent of a smirk to Azriel mentally and tells you, “my mistake, I didn’t realize what day I was telling him to leave.”
Azriel stood in the doorway and gave his brother the finger from behind you.
Azriel made excuses, all ranging from Cassian needing help with training, Feyre needing an escort to the Hewn City, even to Mor needing help with the upkeep of the horses in the guard. Every excuse was denied by his so-called family, not allowing him to use them as scapegoats. It was starting to make you suspicious.
Thursday morning after Azriel’s last ditch attempt to get out of the dinner, involving some excuse about Eris needing rescuing, you sigh, exasperated.
“Okay Az, it was just an idea. Clearly you don’t want to do it, so just.. don’t bother, okay? Go save Eris from whatever it is that’s attacking him.”
You turn, wanting to leave the kitchen before Azriel sees how much this actually upsets you. “That’s not-“ he starts, trying to grab you as you pass him, but you wriggle from his grasp, disappearing into the hallway up to your bedroom.
Az was sitting on the kitchen counter, wallowing in self-pity over how poorly he handled that situation, when Cassian walked in.
“And what do you have to be so upset about, pretty boy?”
Azriel lifts his head, looking at Cassian eating a stupid banana. Gods, he wanted to throttle him. “Oh no, I’m Azriel and a beautiful woman wants to cook me dinner, even though I eat dinner with her most nights and have weekly dates with her even though I deny anyth-“
Cassian stops, taking a bite of his banana. He looks up, and realization dawns on him.
“Oh my gods,” he says, his mouth full of banana. Azriel decides to play the denial game, because surely Cassian did not figure out the secret he’s kept guarded for several months while eating a fucking banana.
Cassian looked at him, turning to look up the stairs where you had left just a few moments ago, “you two?”
Azriel rolls his eyes, “we’re friends, yes.”
Cassian rolls his eyes even harder. “I’m not an idiot. You follow her around like a pitiful puppy,” he says, coming closer to his brother, “you two eat just about every meal together, but the one day she offers to cook for you suddenly you can’t find time for her?”
Cassian narrows his eyes at Azriel, “you ashamed of her or something?”
Azriel’s eyes widen, not only at Cassian’s question that he could ever be ashamed of you, but also at Cassian’s change in demeanor.
Cassian slips into the protective big brother role when it comes to you quite easily, Azriel thinks as Cassian puffs out his chest while he strides over to stand next to Azriel.
“Now why on earth would I be ashamed of her?”
Cassian inspects Azriel for a second before asking, “then why haven’t you told her?”
He pauses, then asks, “how long have you known?”
Azriel huffs, “known what?”
“That she’s your mate.”
Azriel stills at Cassian’s words. They liked to poke fun of Cass, calling him a dumb brute, but Cassian was no fool. If any member of his family were to discover his secret, it would be Cassian.
Azriel looks at him, “a few months. I’ve been… waiting.” He sighs, “I keep wanting to tell her and then I psyche myself out. Once I tell her, things will be… different.”
Azriel hates how quiet his voice becomes as he says, “what if she is ashamed of who the mother picked for her?”
Cassian’s chest deflates, all sense of protectiveness over you gone and replaced with protectiveness over his brother.
“Then she’d be a fool.”
Looking down, Azriel watches as Cassian’s foot gently nudges his own, a silent request from Cassian for him to look up.
“There is no way she would ever be ashamed of you or be upset that you’re her mate.”
The way Cassian is looking at Azriel makes him want to shy away, but Cassian keeps his gaze steady, almost locking Azriel’s eyes into place.
“I’d be willing to bet she has journals full of doodles where she draws little hearts with your names in it, and she also writes “Mrs. Shadowsinger”
The rise in octave in his brother’s voice causes a laugh to burst out of him, but Cassian continues.
“I once tried to sit next to you for a meal and I’ve never seen anyone move as quickly as she did to claim her seat. Honestly, this will come as a shock to no one.”
Azriel looked back up at his brother to find him already looking at him, a soft gaze grazing his face.
“We’re happy for you two.”
Azriel scoffs, “I take that to mean you’ve already told Rhysand?”
Cassian starts walking away, going to pick up the remainder of his banana. “Oh yeah, we’ve had a bet for about a year now. Rhys thought the bond had snapped for her, but I knew it would be you. You’ve made me a much richer man, Az.”
Cassian bows in thanks, ducking out the door as Azriel throws a different banana towards the space he was occupying.
-
You had been sulking in your room for what felt like hours after Azriel’s latest rejection. You spent the whole time flipping between thinking about all the little moments that had you swearing there was something happening between you two, and each and every excuse he had made to get out of this dinner.
Was your cooking that bad? Was he tired of you taking up every one of his Thursday nights?
The two of you spent an absurd amount of time together - you ate most meals together at the house, you saw each other multiple times every day. Were you wrong?
A knock on the door pulls you from your thoughts, but before you can respond, the door is opening and Cassian pokes his head in. He has a hand covering his eyes, but he’s made a slit between his middle and ring fingers, allowing him to still see.
“Are you decent?” He asks, looking around the room.
He sighs at seeing you dressed on your bed, pulling his hand away from his face as he walks in, closing the door behind him.
You giggled, “Cass the whole point is to not see someone naked.”
He rolled his eyes as he plopped down next to you on your bed, “you don’t even want to give me a peak? I’ve had such a hard day, a little skin would make me feel better.”
You laugh, picking up a pillow and hitting him with it. He lets you hit him, pretending to fall dramatically onto his back.
“Tell Rhys I loved him,” he sighs dramatically, pretending to die.
You laugh at his foolish antics, but Cassian continues to pretend he’s dead. You lean into him, about to poke his face, when he grabs your waist, hoisting you over his shoulder.
“Now come on, I’ve got shopping to do and I need your help.”
-
After Cassian had left, Azriel spent some time trying to decide how he could make this up to you. He didn’t want to force you into accepting a bond that you didn’t know about by presenting him with food.
He paced his room, his long legs gliding across the wooden floors making no noise. His shadows were combing through the house, trying to find out where you had gone after your earlier spat.
Azriel replaced with pacing with purposeful steps as he headed towards his bedroom door, the perfect solution coming to him.
-
“Thank you Cassian,” you say, squeezing his arm your hand was tucked into.
“For what? My incredibly charming presence?” He smirks down at you.
You scoff, “I felt awful earlier but you pulled me out of my spiraling, thanks.” You say, nudging him a bit.
Cassian had gotten you out of your room and the two of you walked around Velaris, mostly people watching and talking.
He hums, “well, both of my brothers are idiots,” he says, getting a laugh out of you. “They take turns on who holds the idiot stick. Today it’s Azriel.”
“Do you ever hold the idiot stick?”
“Occasionally, very rarely, I will pass it between the two of them, so I only have it for a moment or two.”
You snort, looking down at your feet. If Cassian thought Azriel was being stupid, does he see what you see?
You start to ask him, to prod him for more answers about Azriel, when he pats your hand, turning your attention to where the two of you had ended up on this walk.
The townhouse.
Your brows crease in confusion as Cassian removes your hand from his elbow, pats your shoulder, and tells you to have a good night.
You start to sputter, wanting to know why you’re here. He shrugs, “I don’t question my orders.” He gives you a two finger salute before turning around and walking away.
You turn back around, looking at the entrance to the townhouse, afraid of what you’ll find on the other side of the door, but going up and knocking anyway.
The door opens, but no one is there. A small shadow swirls around you, moving up from your feet to your face, caressing your cheek before zipping off to the kitchen.
You step through the threshold and a new shadow comes and shuts the door, another two come and help you take your coat off and hang it up for you.
You walk towards the kitchen, where you can hear the clattering of plates and some delicious aromas filling the whole house. Inside the kitchen you find Azriel, with a frilly apron tied around his waist, putting the finishing touches on two plates at the table.
“What’s all this?” You ask him, doubt creeping in that this isn’t meant for you.
“Sit, sit,” he beckons, pulling out a chair for you. You look around the room, covered in flickering candlelight and flowers. He must have been working on this for hours.
You look down at your plate, the bright colors of ratatouille catching your eye. You gasp, wanting to know how much effort he went to find a recipe for it.
He takes off the apron, sitting across from you.
“I… made an ass of myself, and I’d like to apologize first and foremost for that.” You open your mouth to interrupt him, but he holds up a hand. “Let me finish, I have.. a lot to tell you.”
He takes a deep breath, stilling his nerves. You look so pretty in the glow of the candles, and the slight concern you’ll hate him is enough to distract him, but he has to tell you this.
“There’s a reason I didn’t want you to cook for me. A few months ago we were in the library, reading, and I looked up and I watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, laughing at something in your book and I.. felt it.”
You’re in a trance, listening to him speak.
“I felt like I was dying and coming back to life, like your hand was wrapped around my heart, squeezing in time, keeping it beating. I made up some half-assed excuse to leave, because I needed to talk to Rhys.”
You looked at him, hoping your gaze would encourage him to continue.
“Rhys confirmed what I thought it was - the bond snapping. And I was terrified.”
He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was terrified if I told you, you’d deny the bond, you’d break my heart. So I… put off telling you. I couldn’t.”
He looks down at his lap, fidgeting his fingers.
“I kept trying to tell you, then I’d chicken out. Then when you offered to cook for me, I couldn’t let it happen. I couldn’t let you accidentally accept the bond, accept me without knowing about it.”
He sighs, “I felt awful when I realized you thought I was rejecting you. Far from it. So I’ve uh.. made you dinner.”
You finally speak, “you made me dinner.”
“I made you dinner. And dessert, actually.”
Leave it to Azriel to outdo himself by finding the time to make dessert.
You weren’t letting a single emotion show on your face, and it made a shiver run up Azriel’s spine.
After what could have been hours, you slowly smiled, looking at him, “what kind of dessert did you make?”
He pauses, “I uh made you- us, uh chocolate mousse. I made two, but I thought we could share one.”
He looks at you, still not giving anything away, “if you want to, of course.”
He shifts, your silence making him uneasy.
“If you don’t want to accept it, I understand. I kept it from you, and I’m me, loving me would be rotten work- what are you doing?”
In the middle of his rambling, you picked up your fork, getting a nice helping of food on your fork, bringing it up to your mouth.
“Well, my mate made me dinner, and it looks incredible. Why would I not want to take a bite?”
He looks at you, a rush of emotions flooding him. Surprise, confusion, elation.
“But, but I can promise you to love me, to be my mate, it’s rotten work.”
You smile, “not to me it’s not.”
You pause, “not if it’s you,” and take a bite.
His chest sings, feeling warmth radiating throughout him. Feeling love radiate through him, and he realizes that’s you.
You keep eating the food, that hum getting louder and more vibrant, until you’ve cleared your plate, and stride over to him.
You grab his face in your hands, tilting his head so he’ll look into your eyes. “If you think I am not aware of who you are, what you do, your darkest parts, you are mistaken. And if you think I will shy away from those things, you are a fool.”
He hadn’t realized he was crying until you swiped your thumb across his cheek, swiping it away.
You smile down at him, and he has never felt so loved, so whole as he does in this moment. His mate, the one person the cauldron deemed would understand him, just chose him.
He feels like that little boy, looked in the dungeon, daydreaming about being saved by an angel. And he has.
He stands up, cupping your face in his hands, “I was in love with you before the bond snapped for me. I’m not here just because the cauldron told me to be, let me assure you that.”
You smile, a heat creeping up your cheeks. “I’m only here for the chocolate mousse.”
He laughs, a genuine, roaring laugh.
You pull his face in close to yours, gazing into his eyes. “And I have been in love with you since the day after I met you.”
His eyebrows shoot up, “the day after?”
You smile, “well I thought I was in love with you that first day, but then on that second day I heard you speak, and I knew no one would ever compare.”
You feel his happiness in your chest, as if his heart is also in your ribcage, yours and his intertwined, dancing through your chest together.
“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his mouth so close to your own your breaths are intermingling.
You smile at his thoughtfulness, his hesitation.
“Only if you promise to never stop.”
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nickfowlerrr · 6 months
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everybody talks
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pairing: bucky barnes x curvy!reader
warnings: 18+ only. smut, fluff, a bit of angst. unprotected p in v. dirty talk. nipple play. if i’m missing something that needs to be tagged, pls lmk!
words: almost 7.7k
notes: happy halloween 👻 so i had an idea for reclusive neighbor!bucky meeting reader when she stops by his house with a group of kids for trick or treating, and this is very much not that but i think it still works lol. also, i wrote this in a day? i don’t think i’ve ever written more than like 4k in a day before so, yay me!
i wanted to participate in @witchywithwhiskey’s horror movie hoe-a-thon but i decided so last minute and then thought the deadline was the 31st, but i absolutely read the guidelines wrong bc it was actually yesterday and i missed it lol. i’m linking her event still though bc i did use a quote prompt! 🖤
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The loud shaking of the wobbly cart you grabbed in your hurry precedes you as you make your way through the ridiculously crowded grocery store. Normally you would have been mortified - probably would have left the cart and ventured off to grab what you needed sans basket - but you don’t have the time to be concerned about the looks you’re getting as you walk fast down the aisles. 
When your sister asked you for help organizing a family halloween party, you didn’t realize she meant an actual little community family friendly party for the street she lived on.
You had gotten two frozen pizzas, a bag of candy, a case of soda, and some random bags of chips you were sure your nieces would love, just last night. That would have certainly been enough for you, your nieces, and both your sisters, but unfortunately, that wasn’t where the guest list ended. 
The look on her face when you showed up to her house with just those few things would have been funny if she wasn’t already on the brink of a breakdown.
Her husband was out of town for work and she was doing all the halloween prep for Sid herself, thus why she enlisted your help with the party and your younger sister’s help for the trick or treating plans.
Before she could snap and completely lose her cool on you, you were already rushing to the front door, keys still in hand, promising you’d be back within the hour and she had nothing to worry about.
That’s how you found yourself among the crowd of the woefully unprepared this afternoon. 
You loaded the cart with six more frozen pizzas, three family servings of the deli’s hot and ready fried chicken, two packs of halloween cupcakes, two more cases of soda, an extra case of water, and three boxes of capri suns before you started filling the cart with the halloween party snacks you found in the holiday section. 
You were getting a workout as you pushed the basket, less shaky now thanks to the added weight, heading to the candy section to grab a few bags of whatever they had left.
You were distracted by the end cap display as you turned down the aisle and didn’t see the man standing right in front of you, accidentally running into him. Though, running into him sounds like an exaggeration. With how heavy your basket was, and how sturdy the man before you was, it was more like a bump - a love tap. He didn’t even really react to it aside from looking over briefly to you and your basket.
Even still, you apologized profusely, rambling an apology about not looking where you were going before you finally got an actual look at your victim. 
Your words stopped almost abruptly when your eyes met with crystal blues. His stare was icy, but not cold, moreso piercing.
He blinked and broke your trance, offering you a shy smile before he looked away.
“It’s okay, you’re fine,” he said, eyes fixed back on the shelves of candy.
He was dressed in dark denim jeans and a black crewneck sweatshirt, his hair was dark and down to just above his broad shoulders, and the stubble that lined his strong jaw suited him well. You didn’t realize you were staring again until he looked back up at you.
You forced yourself to smile then, ignoring the heat you could feel creeping up your neck and rising to your cheeks.
“Sorry,” you offered with a nervous laugh before you forced the cart behind where he stood to go onward. 
You could have sworn you saw a blush rising to his cheeks as he smiled to himself, avoiding your gaze, but you weren’t entirely sure. 
And you definitely didn’t have the time to ponder on it.
Instead, you began your own search of the shelves to find not only your nieces’ favorites, but your sisters’, too. 
They were both working hard to make their kids’ halloween a good one, they deserved a little treat themselves when all the work was done. You, on the other hand, still single and child free, were planning on treating yourself all night. You were there to help, sure, but most of the work wouldn’t be done by you. You were looking forward to seeing them off to trick or treat and plopping down on your sister’s couch to watch movies for the rest of the night - handing out candy, of course, should any kids come by.
Once the party was set up and over, you’d be free for the night and you couldn’t wait.
You were lucky to find most of what you were looking for, but couldn’t seem to find the last kind of chocolates you wanted to get. 
As your eyes scoured the shelves, you found yourself looking back over to where the handsome stranger still stood. His brows were furrowed as he held up two boxes of full size candy bars, seeming to be debating between the two.
The look of concentration on his face was endearing, you could almost chuckle at how serious in thought he seemed to be over candy.
You smiled to yourself, returning to your search. As your eyes left the man, traveling instead to the rows of candy in front of him, that was when you saw the bag you needed. In the section right where he was standing, because of course they’d be there. 
He huffed in exasperation before you watched him drop both boxes of candy into his cart. He turned to head down the aisle in your direction and his eyes widened slightly when he saw you still standing there.
“Oh, sorry, I’m in your way, aren’t I.”
“No, you’re fine!” You assured him as you left your basket, walking closer to him. “I just needed to grab this,” you said, looking up with the bag in hand. He hadn’t moved from where he stood as you approached, so you were inadvertently in his personal space - but he didn’t make any attempt to move from you. In fact, he looked almost frozen. 
His bright eyes were on you, one hand on his cart, the other clenched by his side. He seemed to go a bit ridge at your proximity, like he didn’t want to make any sudden movements, but he relaxed after a second after seeing your soft smile, blinking at you as his cheeks burned. 
You quickly backed away, hoping to not make him more uncomfortable and to not embarrass yourself further.
You grabbed onto your cart and looked his way once more, meeting his eye again as his sights were already on you. 
You smiled shyly, “Sorry, again, for hitting you,” you offered, “happy halloween.”
He didn’t respond verbally, but he did give you a small nod of acknowledgement.
Your smile grew tighter before you turned and made for the check out, sighing as you rolled your eyes at yourself, mentally chastising yourself for being such an awkward inducing mess. 
The lines were long and as you waited, you had to field a call from your sister, promising her you were checking out and would be back at her house soon.
You finally got through the line and were on your way out the sliding door when your cart almost crashed into another. You gasped as you pulled at your cart to stop, the heavy weight carrying it forward, its momentum causing it to almost ram right into the cart beside it.
The doors were only big enough for one cart to go through at a time, so you looked up to offer whoever it was you almost crashed into the lead.
It was your turn for your eyes to widen as you once again were met with those piercing blues.
“I am so sorry, I’m not doing this on purpose, I swear,” you laughed nervously, backing up a bit so he’d have room to go through the doors. “Go for it,” you said.
He shook his head, “Please,” he gestured for you to go in front, “ladies first.”
Had you not been in a hurry, you would’ve argued that he should go ahead, but seeing as your phone was lighting up with messages from your erratic sister, you smiled and pushed on forward. “Thank you,” you breathed.
You were trying not to pay attention as he followed behind you, but when you got to your car, halting your basket at your trunk, you couldn’t help but notice as he stopped next to you.
You looked over at him, and he looked over at you. He smiled this time, popping his trunk, “What are the odds?”
You tittered, not knowing how to respond. You couldn’t help your smile though as you turned back to your trunk and started putting the bags in.
He himself didn’t have much in the way of bags, and was finished putting his stuff away and taking his cart back by the time you were halfway done putting your stuff in your car.
You saw as he approached his door from your peripheral, and looked up and over in his direction as he abruptly stopped just before he was about to pull open his door.
For a second, he looked like he was about to turn around but then thought better of it, reaching for the door handle again before pulling away once more. 
He squeezed his car keys in his hand before he turned back around, completely this time. You blinked at him, in a bit of a stupor as he came up to you. You waited for him to speak as he opened his mouth before quickly shutting it, taking a breath, then anxiously licking his lips.
“I’m Bucky,” he introduced himself a bit stiffly before his lip quirked up in a nervous half smile. Your brows raised of their own volition before you gave him your name in turn.
He seemed to be relieved by your reply, as if he was worried you would have ignored him, before he took another step closer to your car. “Can I give you a hand?”
“Oh, uhm, sure. That’d be great, thanks.”
“Big plans for the night?” he asked as he slid the packs of soda and the water into the car.
“My sister is hosting a little halloween party for the families on her street before they head out trick or treating tonight, I’m helping her out with setup and food. But after that,” you sighed, putting a few more bags in, “I’m planning on just watching movies between trick or treaters. Nothing crazy. You?” you asked, looking over to him.
“I’m planning pretty much the same. I don’t know how many trick or treaters to expect, I’m new to the neighborhood and… maybe haven’t been the friendliest neighbor,” he cringed to himself as he grabbed the boxes of juice. “But I got the full size candy bars, so…”
“Sprung for the full size, huh? I’m sure those kids’ll love it. You’ll be the talk of the block,” you joked.
His chuckle had you smiling so hard you had to bite your lip to keep from looking like an idiot.
Bucky took the last of the bags from you and set them carefully down before he closed the trunk for you. You were hanging onto the cart, waiting to say bye before you walked it to its home, as he turned, shoving his hands in his pockets before he spoke. He had that anxious look on his face again, his eyes down at the ground while he licked his lips mindlessly before he met your eye.
“I, uhm,” he seemed to register where his hands were then and took them out of his pockets, “I hope this isn’t too presumptuous of me, but, did you maybe, want to exchange numbers?” he asked, bright blue eyes bearing into yours.
Your lips parted unbidden, eyebrows raising in surprise, or more like shock, as your eyes widened.
“You- you want my number?” you asked stupidly. You didn’t give him a chance to answer though before you continued, “Uhm, yeah,” you nodded, “sure.”
The delicate smile on your lips grew as you reached for your phone.
You exchanged numbers and said your goodbyes before you were finally headed back to your sister’s place.
You were smiling like a fool as you drove, a sense of giddy taking over you. This kind of stuff never happened to you. You were still in a bit of disbelief as you pulled into your sister’s driveway, calling her to help you unload but deciding against telling her about your little grocery store meet cute. At least until the party was underway and her stress levels came down.
Grumpy. 
That’s the word you would use to describe your current state.
This was not how tonight was supposed to go. You should be lounging on a couch watching scary movies with a bowl full of candy right now, not clopping down the street in your wedges - a last minute costume thrown together as your niece held your hand and pulled you along with her while your sisters and baby niece strolled behind.
Sidney had thrown a fit when she learned you wouldn’t be coming along for trick or treating and only calmed down when you finally relented and agreed. But of course, you couldn’t just go out in what you were already wearing, no, that would be too easy. You absolutely needed a costume. 
At your sisters’ and niece’s goading, you were forced to put something together. 
You were already in all black, so you snagged the leftover cat ear headband your sister had and made your already done eye look a little more exaggerated. You all left soon after, your niece’s jubilance as she skipped out of the house easing your annoyance at the change of plans. As you started down the driveway, you were cursing yourself for not having brought your sneakers, and your sisters for both having smaller feet than you.
You walked up to house after house with your niece, taking turns switching who was going up to the door every two or three houses. In between houses, you finally told your sisters about the guy you met at the store earlier, how attractive he was, how he helped you load your car, and how he asked for your number before you went your separate ways.
It was nice to be able to talk with them about it, it had been a long time since it had been just the three of you together - no obnoxious boyfriends or overly talkative husbands to interrupt your conversations. You had to say, you were starting to feel a bit more grateful for your niece’s insistence on you joining them.
As you talked to your little sister while she held her daughter, you both watched as your niece tugged on her mom’s hand, refusing to go up the pathway of the house you were now at. As you looked around, you realized everyone else seemed to be avoiding the house, too. You weren’t sure why, though. The porch light was on and there was a cute, though solitary, ghost decoration that would greet you as you walked up the path to the house. 
“What is up with that?” you asked aloud.
As your older sister walked back over, she answered your question. “She doesn’t wanna go, she says it’s haunted.”
You fixed your niece with a look, “What do you mean haunted? Who told you that?”
“Evan and Fifi. They said the metal man lives here and he kills anyone who tries to come in.”
“The metal man, huh? Well,” you said, making a point of looking all around the front of the house, “it looks to me like whoever lives here is ready to pass out candy to anyone brave enough to knock. The lights are on, and did you see the ghost up front? They’re probably just as excited about Halloween as you are.”
“No.” she responded flatly.
“No?” you scoffed. “Ohhh, okay,” you exaggerated, “I get it, you’re too scared to go. That’s all you had to say, Sid, no shame.”
“I’m not scared,” she argued, her face scrunched in annoyance at your insult.
“Really? If you’re not scared then why won’t you go knock on the door?”
She floundered for a second before she narrowed her gaze at you. You wanted to laugh at the low growl that radiated from her but held it together. 
“We’ll all go,” she finally decided, looking all three of you in the eyes to make sure you were all ready to accompany her.
It had been two hours since the trick or treaters had started their nights. 
Bucky could hear the laughter and screams of playful fright as family after family and group after group of friends passed by his house. 
The bowl of king size candy bars sat on his coffee table untouched as It played on his screen. 
Every now and again he’d get up and look out the kitchen window, hoping to see a dead street to make himself feel better about the lack of trick or treaters, but only found the streets full of people.
The more time that passed without a single knock or ringing of his bell, the worse he felt. 
He could lie and say he didn’t know why he was taking this so hard, he wasn’t one to complain about his solitude, but truthfully, he knew why.
He had heard the neighbor kids talking about him the other week, telling tales of horror about the metal man who lived next door. If seeing his arm was all it took to spur their tales and ignite their fear of him, God, he didn’t even want to know what would come if they found out even a little bit of his past. 
And if it wasn’t the kids starting their own urban legend at his expense, it was the adults who would gossip about him at their backyard barbecues. The mysterious man who lived alone and kept to himself was an easy target for lowly neighborhood gossip, and the few people who had pieced together who he was seemed to be tight lipped about it. Anytime they saw him in public, their eyes would bug and they would quickly avert their gaze, like they were scared what would happen if he knew they knew. It’s not like his identity was a secret, but he wasn’t planning on striking up a conversation with them to let them know that. Especially not when they looked at him like that. Like he was some kind of monster.
Even still, he didn’t want to be the social pariah on the block. He hated to think that anyone was scared or weary of him, though he knew most of them were.
He sighed heavily as he checked the time once again. 
So much for that ghost helping to dispel his bad reputation. He’d be requesting the money he spent on it from Sam later, it was his idea for him to get halloween decorations in the first place. He should have known it wouldn’t have helped.
As his phone unlocked with his FaceID, he was tempted to send a message to the woman he’d met earlier in the day. He wasn’t sure what it was about her, but he hadn’t felt so disarmed by someone in a very long time. And the fact that she was gorgeous, and didn’t seem the least bit frightened by him, was a nice feeling, too. 
But she was probably watching movies and relaxing by now, he didn’t want to be a disturbance. Tomorrow, though. He’d definitely be messaging her tomorrow.
Another sigh left him as he locked his phone again, tossing it on the coffee table before making his decision.
Bucky paused the movie before he stood, bowl in hand, prepared to take it to the kitchen and shut his porch light off on his way upstairs. It was only gonna get later and he had to accept that no one was going to trick or treat at his house this year.
But just as he was setting the bowl down on the table, he froze.
Was someone actually coming up the porch?
He swore he was just hearing things…but then came a knock.
“You can’t just stand there, Sid, you have to knock or ring the bell, pick one.”
“No.”
“Ugh,” you exaggerated with an eye roll, turning to look at your older sister, “you live with this everyday?”
“Everyday,” she replied.
“Sid, if you don’t knock, you don’t get candy,” you told her.
“If I don’t knock, I don’t get murdered.”
“Alright, fine. I’ll do it myself,” you shrugged, adjusting the cat ears on your head.
You raised your arm to knock on the door, but Sid stopped you, pulling it back down.
“I don’t want you to get murdered, either!”
“Sidney,” you laughed, kneeling to get on her level, “I promise you, no one is going to get murdered. This house isn’t haunted and a murderer doesn’t live here.”
“You don’t know that for sure,” your little sister chimed in, earning a glare from you before you couldn’t help your laugh, shaking your head before turning back to your niece.
“I just met Evan and Fifi at the party, and I know for a fact they were just trying to scare all of you guys. I doubt they’ve ever met whoever it is that lives here. Now, do you trust me?”
Her reluctant nod was your answer.
“Okay. Then I’m gonna knock on the door, and we’re gonna get some candy. Cool?”
“Cool.”
“Cool,” you nodded with a smile before standing back up.
Sid inched back to stand in front of her mom, pulling her arm to hide herself behind as you once again went to knock on the door, this time following through.
You knocked and heard footsteps from within, smiling as you waited for the homeowner to open the door.
Once it opened, though, you found yourself completely taken aback. 
Your breath caught in your throat as a newly familiar pair of brilliant blue eyes met yours.
Bucky stood at the open door, bowl of full size candy bars in hand. He looked just as surprised to see you there as you were him. 
He tilted his head at you, a lopsided grin spreading on his face.
“Trick or treat!” Sidney yelled, seeing the big bars and coming to stand in front of you.
Bucky looked down, smiling as he showed her the bowl, “Happy Halloween,” he said, allowing her to pick which one she wanted.
“I know how this looks, but I swear I’m not stalking you,” you promised.
“I don’t know, it seems like a lotta coincidences for just one day,” he smirked, cooly leaning against his door frame. “Nice costume,” he complimented.
“Ha, thanks,” you smiled, touching the cat ears once again. “Nice ghost,” you nodded toward the lonely decoration, “Really livens up the place,” you teased. 
“That was the intention,” he laughed, a little too glumly for your liking. “You guys are actually the first trick or treaters I’ve had all night, so I guess it didn’t really do its job.”
“Sorry, you guys know each other?” your sister asked.
“Yeah, uh,” you turned briefly, “this is Bucky,” you said.
“Bucky from the grocery store, Bucky?” your little sister asked.
You gave her a look you hoped Bucky didn’t see before answering, “Yes. That Bucky.”
Your sisters introduced themselves to him and as he switched the candy bowl from his right hand to his left, extending his palm to shake their hands, you noticed a glimmer coming from  his left side.
You moved over a bit to allow them room to shake hands and as you looked closer, you realized that, peculiarly enough, his left hand wasn’t made of flesh. 
You scoffed a laugh to yourself at his “metal man” moniker. That made some sense now… In fact, a few things were clicking into place. Bucky, you thought…Bucky Barnes? The Bucky Barnes. You wondered how you hadn’t noticed earlier, not that it mattered, but you were staring, like kind of a lot, at him when you met at the store, and even when he was helping load your groceries. You really must have been distracted by just how gorgeous his face is.
Now that you were really looking at him again, you noticed just how built he was. Strong arms, solid chest, nearly six foot tall if you had to guess. 
Your sister’s laugh brought you back to reality as you followed her gaze to Sid who was now taking a bunch of bars from Bucky’s bowl as he held it out for her again.
“I doubt anyone is coming my way again, so please, take what you want,” he offered to all of you.
“That’s really nice of you, thanks,” you smiled as your sisters each took a bar of their own. “We’ll uh, let you get back to your movie,” you said, remembering his plans for tonight.
“The movie, yeah. I think I might have to start it over, actually. I went on my phone for a minute and looked up to see a blood covered bathroom but I have no idea how they got there,” he huffed a laugh at himself.
“Oh, what are you watching?” your little sister asked.
“It,”
“It? No way, that’s so funny. That’s the movie you were gonna watch before we left tonight, isn’t it?” your older sister asked knowingly, a smirk no one but you and your younger sister would ever catch flashing for a microsecond on her lips as she looked at you pointedly.
“Yeah,” you swallowed thickly, “it is,” you said, trying not to let the awkwardness that was eating at you consume you entirely.
“You should stay and watch it,” your little sister suggested, to your complete and utter mortification. Your eyes shot over to her, and you swear, if looks could kill. 
“I’m not just going to invite myself-”
“Come on, like he minds,” she turned to look at Bucky then, her hands still on her stroller holding her baby, “you don’t mind, do you?”
You peek over at Bucky, unsure of how you would even react if you were in his position. He met your eye and his lips quirked in a soft smile. “Not at all. If you wanted to, that is,” he added, offering you an out.
You looked at him a moment before looking over to your smugly smiling sisters and your niece as she tore into one of her candy bars, standing safely between the two of them. You inhaled sharply before looking back to a waiting Bucky. 
You nodded.
“Yeah,” you breathed. “Sounds…fun.”
“Great, well we were heading back anyway. So, see you later?” you sister bid. 
“Or not,” your little sister added teasingly before she shot her gaze over to Bucky once more. “But we do have her location, just so you know,” she added seriously, a hint of a warning in her words.
“Ooo-kay,” you said, breaking the forthcoming tension, “I will text you guys when I’m on my way back,” you told them, urging them to get going.
“It was nice to meet you, Bucky. I trust my sister will get home safe,” your sister said directly.
“I’ll make sure of it,” he responded gallantly while your face felt as if it was literally on fire.
What was this, it was like your parents were dropping you off for your first date in high school. But somehow worse.
She nodded, “And thank you for the candy. Sidney,” she called, getting her daughter’s attention, “what do we say?”
“Thank you! Happy Halloween!”
“You’re very welcome,” Bucky smiled. “Happy Halloween.”
It wasn’t long before you found yourself sitting on Bucky’s couch, a glass of water you had desperately needed sitting before you on the coffee table and Bucky sitting to the left of you, but keeping a respectable distance.
“I’m really sorry about my sisters, by the way. They can be a lot,” you huffed a laugh.
“Don’t be,” he brushed off, “It’s nice to see, honestly.”
You looked over at him, he seemed a bit forlorn before he came back to himself. 
“You know, my niece was almost too scared to come to your door. She said this house is haunted, that ‘the metal man’ lives here and kills anyone who tries to enter.”
“Ah, I see word travels fast when it comes to children.”
“Yeah, you’re kind of like their own urban legend.”
Bucky rolled his eyes playfully as you laughed, lifting a leg up to cross under your thigh as you turned to face him on the couch.
“What?” you asked, “Don’t you want to be an urban legend?”
“Not really,” he laughed with a shake of his head, turning to face you better as well. “Especially not when it leaves me with bowls full of king sized candy bars no one seems to want.”
There’s a pause before he continues,
“Honestly… I don’t like knowing people are scared of me. I mean I’ve known, for a long time, that they are, it’s just.. Different when you can see that fear on their faces, in person.”
You didn’t even realize you were moving as you scooted in closer to him while he spoke.
“I thought the city was bad, but ever since I moved out here, it’s all so much more intimate. The stares are a lot more pointed.” He laughed humorlessly at himself, “I heard a couple kids talking about my arm a few weeks ago and tried to tell myself I didn’t care, but I’ve been wearing nothing but long sleeves every time I go outside now. 
“I’m not ashamed of it,” he said quickly to clarify, “I just, I don’t want them to have to be scared of me.”
“They shouldn’t be scared of you just because you have a prosthetic arm,” you argued, knowing they surely knew nothing else of who he was, “and their parents should probably be leading by better examples.”
“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, “what can you do?” He swallowed the lump in his throat that was forming at your defense of him, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bring all this up-”
“No, I’m sorry, that’s on me. I am incredibly skilled at killing conversations before they even begin.”
“I don’t know about that. You don’t know me well yet, so you don’t know how big of a deal this is, but, I like talking to you,” he smiled. 
You had to look away from his gaze, breathing a laugh as you did. 
The movie was playing on screen, but neither of you were paying any attention to it as you continued talking.
Each time Bucky laughed at your lame jokes, you swore you felt like you were flying. You talked about everything and nothing. You got to know each other better, asking questions about life and preferences and favorites and what-ifs. The conversation flowed so easily, you never even really had to think about what to say next. That definitely wasn’t usual for you, and you liked it. You liked him.
Somewhere along the way, the conversation turned flirty, and again, it was completely effortless. 
Your knees were pressing against one another as you sat across from each other, almost side by side on the couch.
You laughed in unison at a cheesy line Bucky tried on you before a jump scare on the screen had you quite literally jumping. Without thought, you leaned into Bucky, and he had no qualms about it as you hid your face in his shoulder.
He laughed lightly, his arm coming around you and gently rubbing your back before you forced yourself to pull away. His warmth was so nice and welcoming, but if you didn’t back up, you would’ve tried to nuzzle right into his side - you couldn’t risk the embarrassment.
As you turned back to sit next to him though, he kept his arm around you and tugged you in a bit closer. 
You briefly wondered if he could hear your heartbeat, because you definitely could. You thought it might beat out of your chest at any moment as his warm cologne invaded your senses.
“Sorry, I guess I just assumed you liked scary movies,” he laughed.
“Ya know what’s funny is I actually hate scary movies,” you told him, “the It movies are some of the very few that don’t scare me.”
“Oh, that was you not being scared?” he smirked with a raised brow.
“That was- it just, it caught me off guard,” you defended with a smile, absentmindedly leaning more into his hold.
You had never gotten so close to someone in such a short amount of time, emotionally or physically. 
It was foreign, but you enjoyed it. It may have been sudden, but it didn’t feel rushed. 
“You get scared easily?” he asked.
“I’m the biggest scaredy cat I know,” you admitted. “I’m not hard to get a jump out of, I get scared of literally everything,” you laughed at yourself.
You turned to look at him when he didn’t say anything and felt your breath catch in your throat for the second time that night. He was so close to you now, and his eyes were piercing as he took you in, lingering on your lips and sending a chill through you.
The energy between you seemed to shift from something light and playful to something more charged, deliberate.
Your eyes drifted to his lips despite yourself, too.
He leaned in just a touch closer to you and your lips were mere inches away as he spoke,
“You’re not scared of me,” he said, though you weren’t sure if it was a question or not. Still, you responded as if it were.
Leaning in, brushing your lips against his, you breathed, “No.”
His hand was on your head then, keeping you close to him as he pressed his lips against yours, it was fervent, yet delicate, as your lips moved against one another. 
You moved a hand to hold onto his left shoulder and he tugged your body to move you completely over his lap while he continued to lead the kiss.
His metal hand found its way to your plush waist as he held you, squeezing you lightly and inadvertently causing you to sink down lower into his lap while your upper body melted into him.
His hand slid from your waist to your ass, grabbing you through your leggings, kneading your ample flesh in his large palm.
You moaned into his mouth and that seemed to spur him on because in the blink of an eye you found yourself being flipped onto your back as he pinned you beneath his large body.
When he finally broke the kiss, you were both panting, your hands fisted in his sweatshirt as his wandered your curves. 
“Do you have a bed?” you breathed, pulling him back down to be closer to you, wanting desperately to have his lips on yours once more. He nodded.
“Glad you asked,” he returned, voice low and husky.
You yelped as Bucky lifted you in his arms, standing and carrying you with ease while you clung to him like your life depended on it. If he dropped you, you weren’t sure you’d be able to recover from the embarrassment. But as he began up the steps and his hold didn’t falter for a single second, you realized maybe there wasn’t anything to worry about.. He held you like you weighed nothing and honestly, it sent a new wave of arousal through you as he reached the door of his bedroom.
He tossed you down on his bed carefully, but stopped you before you could begin tugging your leggings down your thick thighs. 
You looked at him, confused and with a touch of worry you were about to be rejected.
“I’m sorry,” he began, “I should’ve said this before I brought you up here,”
That did nothing to ease your worry…
“I really like you. And I think there could be something real here between us, I don’t want to ruin that. So if you were only here for one night,-”
“I really like you, too,” you cut him off, eyes gleaming into his, “And I think you’re right, I don’t wanna ruin it either. I wasn’t planning for this to be a one night stand, but if you want to take things slower, I don’t have a problem with that.”
“No, I’m good with where we were heading, I just wanted to make it clear that I don’t want this to be just tonight.”
You nodded, a little breathless as you smiled up at him. 
“Same page, then.”
“Good,” he grinned before pushing you to lie back on his bed as he descended upon you. 
His lips were on your neck and as he sucked on your sweet spot, you couldn’t contain the soft moan that passed your lips. 
His hands found the waistband of your bottoms and he pulled them down as much as he could manage before you lifted your hips and wiggled a bit to assist him in getting them off of you. 
You pulled impatiently at the buckle of his jeans, earning a chuckle from him before he got to work taking them off. 
While he got rid of his jeans, you pulled your shirt up and over your head, catching on the cat ears you had forgotten you were wearing. You threw them all to the side, unclasping your bra as Bucky shrugged his sweatshirt off over his head in turn.
He was back on top of you in an instant, pulling your bra off of you and tossing it to land with the rest of your discarded clothes off the side of the bed.
His large hands immediately went to your breasts, admiring the soft, heavy feel of them in his hands while he palmed them, squeezing slightly as he felt you.
You mewled under his attention, eyes closed in delight as his touch only added fuel to the fire burning in your core. 
When he leaned down and took a pert nipple into his mouth, kissing and sucking on your tit, your hand found his hair as you gasped at the sensation, holding him to you, enjoying the feeling of his mouth on your breasts.
You could feel the wetness growing between your legs as he continued to have his fun, unconsciously rutting his thick cock against you when you’d moan for him.
As he traveled down your body, his hands following your curves and his lips kissing every inch of you that he could, he paid special attention to your tummy before he traveled even lower. 
You were a writhing mess as you felt his warm breath on your folds. When your hips bucked up into his face and you felt his lips brushing your cunt, you whined obscenely at the feeling. Bucky laughed tauntingly, holding your hips back down as he poked his tongue out past his plump lips, lightly licking your folds and your sensitive clit as you gripped his hair and urged him closer, wanting, needing more.
He finally took mercy on you after a long, torturous minute, spreading you open for him before he ate you out like a man starved. 
His tongue glided all over your slick cunt, dipping in and out of your tight entrance, before coming back up to flick your clit. 
He drew figure eights over the sensitive bud and you swore you were about to come undone from that alone, but when he sunk his thick digits into your dripping pussy, curling them just right, rubbing against that special spot perfectly, you were seeing stars as your thighs threatened to clamp around his head while you shook from your orgasm. Your walls clamped down on his fingers as you came and he moaned at the feeling as he worked you through the high, more than ready to finally get his cock inside you.
“Doll, you look so gorgeous like this,” he admired as he held himself above you, “naked and sweaty beneath me. Like a fucking goddess,” he praised, grabbing his erection and positioning himself at your entrance. 
“You sure you’re ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked, running his cockhead up and down your dripping slit. 
“Yes, Bucky, please,” you moaned pathetically, spreading your legs as wide as you could for him.
“Mm, I love the way you say my name, doll,” he groaned as he pushed just his tip inside your tight cunt, moving in and out of you as you whined for him.
“God, please, Bucky, please fuck me! I want it so bad,” you whimpered. “I wanna feel you fill me up, please.”
The growl that left his throat had your pussy fluttering, squeezing around nothing before he finally gave you what you wanted.  With one hard, deep stroke, he was fully seated inside you. Your eyes squeezed shut as you gasped sharply, your hands gripping onto him wherever you could as he began to set his pace. With every thrust of his hips into you, he was hitting deeper and deeper inside your cunt.
“Oh, fuck,” you cried.
“There you go, sweetheart. Take all ‘a my cock inside this tight pussy, taking me so fuckin’ well,” his hands were tight on your hips as he fucked into you. “This what you wanted, doll?” he panted, his pace never faltering as he fucked you harder, the slapping sound of skin on skin and his balls hitting your cunt with his every thrust filled the room, mingled with your moans and whimpers and his grunts and growls. “Wanted this big dick to stretch you out, huh? Wanted to feel me fill you up with my hot cum til I’m dripping outta you.”
One of his hands left your hip and instead went to grab at your breasts again, his large hand palming your tit as he squeezed and kneaded, flicking his thumb over your nipple and only adding to the pleasure threatening to send you over the edge.
“God, yes! Please, fucking yes, Bucky, please, please, please, please” you begged pathetically, reaching a hand down to find your clit, working your bud in circles as your walls tightened around his thick cock. 
Your eyes were about to roll into the back of your head as you moaned senselessly, Bucky’s hand leaving your chest and nudging your own away from your clit. He replaced your hand and circled your clit perfectly as he continued rolling his hips into yours, his pace growing more erratic and the words leaving his beautiful lips growing filthier the closer he got to his own end. 
With one perfectly angled thrust, you were crying as your body shook at the intensity of your orgasm. Wave after wave of nerve tingling pleasure lighting you up as you rode out the high. Your toes curled, legs wrapped around him as much as they could be while he grabbed at your body, falling down closer to you as he moaned, holding your body tighter as he pumped his hips, “Fuck,” he growled as he pushed himself as deep inside of you as he could, his eyes squeezing shut, holding himself there as he came, his body shaking some as he attempted to thrust once more. 
You moaned at the feeling of him painting your walls, your hands in his hair as he buried his face in your neck, holding him to you. He stayed inside of you for a long minute as you both panted, trying to catch your breath, while he ensured he got all of his load out before he finally pushed himself up off of you, gently sliding out of you.
He flipped over next to you, laying on his back before he pulled you into him. Your hand rested on his chest as you laid in his left arm.
“Holy fuck,” you breathed, your fingers playing in his chest hair mindlessly as you worked to catch your breath.
His hand was running up and down your side soothingly as he moved to try and meet your eye.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his voice full of concern.
“Yeah,” you assured him. “I’m better than okay, honestly. That was…amazing.”
“Good, I’m glad,” he smiled, “but still, I’m sorry if I got carried away. I tend to run my mouth when I’m, uh,” he fumbled with his words, “ya know, in the moment.” 
He looked so bashful, you couldn’t help but laugh lightly at his expression.
“You just said all of what you just said, but you had trouble with that?” you tittered, rubbing his chest before turning further into him, laying on your side as he stayed on his back, propping his right hand under his head as he relaxed into the position. “But really, Bucky, you don’t have to apologize. I don’t know if you could tell, but…I really liked it,” you simpered sensually.
Bucky smiled at you as you leaned up to meet his lips in a soft kiss. 
“It’s probably way late now, right?” you asked as you pulled away from him. “I should probably head back.”
Bucky sat up after you, “Do you have to?” he asked softly.
You looked back at him, his blue eyes set on you. You nipped at your lower lip before shaking your head lightly. A new, sweeter excitement washing over you.
“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but you could stay for the night,” he offered. “I was hoping I could take you for breakfast in the morning?”
Your heart skipped a beat at the hopeful look in Bucky’s eyes as he waited for your response. That giddiness you felt earlier came over you once again as you held his gaze.
“Yeah,” you smiled. “Yeah, that sounds nice.”
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happy74827 · 6 months
Text
Unspoken Gestures
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[Mike Schmidt x Female!Reader]
Synopsis: After seeing how overly stressed your closest friend was, you decided to take matters into your own hands to ease his load.
WC: 3,210
Category: Fluff
I’m sorry but he was so fine in the movie. Anyways-
『••✎••』
Mike was… he was something. Some would say he was grumpy, and others say he was just downright cold, but you liked to think of him as a reserved kind of person. Sure, he was a bit awkward and unassertive, but he was also one of the nicest guys you knew.
It wasn't even because of his good looks. Well, maybe a little bit, but that wasn't what attracted you to him. It was his kindness. His love for his family, his baby sister. The way he'd dropped everything for her when it became just them. You loved how passionate he was when it came to protecting those he cared about. It's what drew you to him in the first place, really.
That and his face. That dumb smile, that little bit of stubble, those alluring hazel eyes. Those cheeks, that adorable laugh…
God, that laugh. You loved hearing it. It wasn't all that often that he would laugh, but when he did, it made your heart flutter. It made you want to hear it again and again, to make him laugh so much that his stomach hurt and his cheeks flushed with happiness.
He was so sweet, but sometimes he was closed off. He didn't always have the best days or the best attitude. Being a parent to your sister for the past year would’ve worn anyone out, of course, but he never really talked about it. You wanted to be there for him, you wanted to support him, you wanted him to be happy, but you couldn't if he wouldn't talk about it.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that you even realized you liked him, like actually liked him. You knew the feelings had been there for a long time, but they were always there in the back of your mind. Now that they were there and present, it was like a light had been turned on.
You wanted to be there for him. You wanted to be the one he came to when he needed to relax. You wanted to be the shoulder he leaned on when he was down. You wanted to be the other person he turned to when he needed someone. You wanted to be able to take some of the burden off his shoulders.
You wanted to support him the same way he had supported Abby when she needed him to. You wanted to help him, even if he never needed it, even if he was a bit cold sometimes. Even if he was a bit awkward and maybe just a little bit shy.
That was why you decided to help him take the stress off his shoulders on your day off. He didn't have much of a sleep schedule, with his night shift job and being a parent to his little sister, and you knew he wouldn't turn down help, so that morning, you decided to clean up his house while Abby was at school and he was out running emergency errands. You started small, picking up trash and setting it by the door to throw out. You folded his clothes that had been lying around and piled them on his bed. You picked up the dishes and wiped down the counters. You scrubbed down the kitchen sink. You swept the living room floor. You vacuumed the carpet. You washed the windows.
And you did it all with a smile on your face.
When you were done, you wrote up a quick note telling him where everything was before you left, leaving it in the kitchen. The house looked nice, really nice, and it smelled like lemons. You knew he'd appreciate that. He loved that smell and said it reminded him of when his dad used to make his lemonade when he was a kid.
With that taken care of, you decided to head back to your apartment and change out of your cleaning clothes. When you got back to your place, you took a quick shower and changed into some sweats. You were going to make some lunch for yourself, but you were so tired after all that cleaning. So, you made yourself a big bowl of ice cream and curled up on the couch.
You were halfway through the movie you were watching when the door to your apartment opened. For a moment, you thought it was a robber breaking into your house, but when you saw Mike's presence near the entryway of the kitchen, you remembered that you had given Mike a key months ago when he was over one night to help fix the sink in the guest bathroom.
He was wearing his usual green jacket, but the sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, and the collar was undone. His hair was ruffled and a bit sweaty, and he looked tired, really tired. It must have been a long day for him.
"Uh, hey," He muttered, his voice a bit raspy. His hands were in the pockets of his hoodie, and you could tell he was a bit stiff. He seemed a bit awkward.
"Hi, Mike." You greeted warmly, trying not to sound like you were excited that he was there. Truthfully, him showing up at your place was the last thing you expected, but you didn't let that show on your face.
"You look exhausted. How was your day?" You asked, setting your half-finished bowl of ice cream on the coffee table in front of you.
He didn't answer right away, instead wandering further into your apartment, taking his hands out of his hoodie pocket to rub at his eyes. You watched as he turned and dropped his jacket and keys on the armchair of your living room couch, moving around as though he was on autopilot, his mind elsewhere. "It’s fine," he responded after a few moments of silence. "Same as always."
He stretched his arms above his head and cracked his neck, his voice low and his eyes heavy. He looked like he was about to fall over any minute. It was a little bit cute, but you had to do something to get him to relax a little bit.
"You should be home in bed," You chided lightly, sitting up straighter and pointing to the couch. "Mike, not to be blunt, but you look terrible. You need to get some sleep."
"I had to come here first," Mike mumbled, sounding like he was almost asleep already as he flopped down onto the couch and kicked his legs up over the side. "The house was a mess when I left, now it's...I mean...I..." He stammered, his voice growing quieter.
"Hey," you interrupted, a small smile tugging at your lips as you rested a hand on his shoulder. He was warm, and you could feel the tension in his shoulders, the stress he'd built up over the course of the week. "It's fine, I promise."
He was still, almost as though he didn't hear you at first. Then, after a moment, he tilted his head toward you. He seemed almost dazed, as though he wasn't entirely with you, but he gave you a small, tired smile. It was enough to make your heart flutter.
Mike leaned back into the couch cushions and let his eyes slide shut as he took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. You were worried that maybe he'd nodded off, but when he spoke, you realized he was just resting his eyes.
"Why? Why do you keep helping me? You don't...you shouldn't have to do this for me." He asked softly, his eyes still shut, as though he wasn't entirely there. He was vulnerable, you could tell, but he was trusting you with his thoughts, sharing them with you.
You brushed a stray strand of hair out of your face before answering him, leaning back into the couch, closer to him. "I'm helping you because I want to. I want to be there for you."
Mike's eyes opened, but he didn't look at you. Instead, he kept his gaze on the ceiling, studying the cracks in the paint and the stain that was on the plaster. He let out another slow breath, leaning further back into the couch and relaxing a bit like a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.
"Thank you," he said softly, his eyes sliding shut again as if he was trying to rest. You knew he wouldn't sleep there on the couch, not comfortably anyway, so you leaned forward and took his hand, trying to get his attention.
Finally, when his eyes opened for the second time, his gaze fell on you, and you felt like he was looking right into your soul. The two of you stayed like that for a moment, looking at each other, neither of you speaking. You figured it was because of his exhaustion, but the way he looked at you was different from before. He didn't look tired or tired of you. He didn't look angry or irritated, not even annoyed.
Instead, his gaze was softer, more inviting. He wasn't looking through you anymore. Instead, he was looking at you. Really looking at you. He was studying your face, trying to see who you were and how you worked, what made you tick. He was looking at you the way you had always wanted him to look at you.
He leaned forward, slowly as if he were worried you would push him away, but you didn't move. He moved closer and closer until you felt his breath on your lips, and his eyes were fluttering closed. Your breath caught in your throat as you felt the warmth of his skin and the closeness of his body. You could smell his sweat, his shampoo, and the deodorant he used, and it was a mix of things that sent your head spinning.
"I don't...I don't get you." He muttered, his voice so low you almost didn't hear him. "I don't understand why you like me. I don't get it, I don't..."
He stopped, his breath still on your lips, and you opened your eyes to look at him. He was staring at you, looking you in the eyes, and you could see that he was hurting. He had always been so reserved, so closed off, and it was something you hated. You didn't like how much he hurt himself over the little things that people didn't even care about.
But, right now, you weren't going to focus on how closed off he was. You were going to focus on him. You were going to focus on Mike and the way his eyes shone in the light, how he was so close to you that you could feel his skin, how his mouth was just a hairsbreadth away from yours.
You were going to focus on the fact that he had trusted you. He had let you into his mind and his heart, and he had let you see him in his most vulnerable state. He was telling you how he felt without saying a word, and you could tell that he was trying to work up the courage to speak. You were going to focus on how beautiful his eyes were.
It was dark in your apartment, and the light from the paused television screen illuminated his face. It made his eyes glow a bit, and it made him look almost magical, almost otherworldly, like an angel or a god. Like something so good that it couldn't be real. He looked like something you were too afraid to touch, something you were too scared to break. He looked like something you wanted to protect, and he was so close to you, so warm and comforting, that you didn't know what to do.
"It's because..." Your voice was low, quiet, almost like a whisper. The two of you were so close that your lips were practically brushing against each other, and you were suddenly aware of how hard your heart was pounding. "Because you're such a sweetheart, Mike. You always have been. I like you because I know that you care. I know that you'd do anything for the people you care about."
He looked at you for a moment, and it seemed like he wasn't really there, like he was in another world. Then, he seemed to come back to you, his eyes refocusing on you as if he'd forgotten that you were there, and his jaw fell open just a little. His breathing was deep but quick as if he'd been running a marathon. He swallowed hard, his mouth clicking as his gaze darted between your eyes.
"I'm...I'm not that sweet," He muttered, his gaze finally falling back to yours. "I can get pretty rough. Especially with... certain things."
That made you snap out of your own reverie, your face flushing with heat as you processed what he'd said. He constantly said things that didn't mean the way you had. Of course, you knew that. But this time, with that look in his eyes, he didn't sound like he meant it as stress.
"I don't think Abby would appreciate that type of talk, Michael." you teased, leaning just a little bit closer to him.
"Good thing she's not here then, huh?" He asked, his tone playful. He had that smile on his face again. It was a different smile than the one before. The first smile had been sweet. This one was mischievous and playful, and it made your heart do a flip.
"Mike-"
But you didn't get to finish your thought before he slowly lifted his hand to the back of your neck and pulled you toward him, gently, so gently, like you were made of glass. His lips were warm, and you could feel his soft stubble brush against your cheeks. He didn't move at all, he didn't rush, he didn't even press into you. Instead, he let you take the lead. He let you kiss him.
His hand slowly moved to the side of your face, his thumb gently stroking your skin as you leaned further into him. You closed your eyes and felt your body relax, releasing all the tension you had been holding in your body. It was as if everything was melting away, and the two of you were left in this little moment together.
His lips were soft against yours, and he kissed you so slowly, so sweetly, as though he had all the time in the world. You had never felt a kiss like that. Sure, you'd had some passionate kisses, some sloppy makeout sessions, but this...this was different.
This was the first kiss that you actually wanted, that you had wanted for years, and it was so sweet and so soft. His hand slowly slid down your body until it rested on your hip, pulling you closer to him, but he still didn't rush. He didn't want to take what he wanted. He wasn't being selfish. No, he was giving you a choice, he was letting you take the lead and take the power.
You felt his fingers curl into the hem of your shirt, but you pulled away, opening your eyes to look at him. You could feel your face heating up, your skin burning from the blush that had formed on your cheeks, and he let his hand slide under your shirt, his fingers slowly tracing circles over your hip.
His lips were still parted as though he was ready to speak, but no words came out. His eyes were half-closed and his hair was still a mess from when he'd been running his hands through it, and you had the urge to do the same thing to him. You had the urge to run your fingers through his hair and tell him how much you cared.
"Mike," you whispered softly, reaching up to touch his cheek. His hand slid over your hip and down to your thigh, and you bit your lip at the sensation of his skin on yours. His gaze was heated, and he was so close, so close that you could feel the heat of his body and the softness of his breath. You wanted to kiss him again, you wanted to keep going, but you knew his schedule, practically by memory at this point.
"It's noon." You whispered, looking up at him from where you had laid your head against his shoulder, his fingers tracing shapes on your thigh. "If you don't get home soon, you'll be late for Abby."
'Yeah, I know," he muttered, his eyes finally averted from yours. He stared off to the side, but you could still see the longing in his expression, the way his lips had parted slightly, as though he were thinking about kissing you again. "I gotta take a shower too." He added.
"And nap." You pointed out.
Mike huffed softly, closing his eyes for a moment before getting up and stretching his arms above his head. He let out another yawn, the kind of big, wide yawn that made his shoulders hunch up. He still looked like he wanted to kiss you, but the exhaustion was weighing him down, and he was fading fast.
"Right," he muttered, taking his hands out of his pockets to rub at his eyes, which were looking just a bit more droopy by the minute. He didn't move, though. He just stood there, looking like he wanted to stay, but he also wanted to go.
"Be careful on the way home." You teased, rising to your feet. "Don't fall asleep behind the wheel."
"I'm not that tired," Mike responded quickly, letting his arms drop to pick up keys off the armchair where his jacket was. He shoved them in his pocket as you headed toward the door, opening it for him. "And if I was, I wouldn't crash my car," He muttered.
You paused at the door, your hand still on the handle as he stopped just in front of you. His gaze fell on yours again, and he looked like he wanted to say something. His eyes were sparkling, and his lips were parted just a little. You felt like you could see his thoughts just from looking at him, and they were just as sweet as the kiss he'd given you.
But he didn't speak, and you knew he wasn't going to. He just stared at you for a long moment before nodding and walking out, pausing only to shut the door behind him. You stood there for a moment, not moving, not speaking. You were still reeling from the kiss, trying to piece together what had happened in the span of five minutes.
But, despite your confusion and the way you were reeling, you had a smile on your face. A genuine, wide smile, the kind that made you feel like you could float away if you tried hard enough. The kind of smile that came with your lips feeling like they were about to split in two and your cheeks hurt from the stretch. It was the kind of smile that you didn't have very often, and it was a nice feeling.
And, most importantly, it was a smile that Mike had put there.
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quin-ns · 1 year
Text
Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)
Word count: 2.7K
Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means
Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia
A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)
cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist
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The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.
You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”
As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 
You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.
“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 
“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.
“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 
The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 
Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.
You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.
“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.
“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.
Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”
“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.
“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”
“Who?”
“The dilf.”
“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 
“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.
You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 
You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 
It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.
“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”
“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 
“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.
You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 
“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 
She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.
“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”
“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 
You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”
“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”
“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.
“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 
You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 
The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.
“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.
Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 
“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.
“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.
You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 
“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”
You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.
You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.
“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.
You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.
Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.
You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.
You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.
“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.
How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.
“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.
“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.
When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 
“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.
That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”
You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.
Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”
“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”
Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”
“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.
“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.
“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 
“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”
“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 
“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.
You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”
“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 
“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.
“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.
“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.
“Sure, yeah.”
“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”
You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.
“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”
“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 
You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”
“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 
Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 
“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.
“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.
“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.
Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”
Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.
Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 
“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”
“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.
Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.
“Do you think I’m one?”
You nearly choked on your water. “What?”
“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”
“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”
Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”
“Yes.”
Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 
“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 
“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 
You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.
Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 
“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 
The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.
“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.
“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”
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joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee
if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3
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gojos-thot-patrol · 7 months
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nah because giving birth to sukuna’s son, a little baby boy who looks like him, and watching you love and adore the little bean with all your heart and soul; you sing and hum to the little bean, celebrate every accomplishment no matter how small it is (big burp? what a good boy! ate so much!), carrying him snuggly in your arms as you talk about every flower you spot in the gardens (even when he’s asleep). nicknaming your son your little miracle, your little twinkling star and sukuna understanding maybe it wasn’t him, an innocent child back then, but awful circumstances and the wrong people around him.
Nonny, your brain is so big, and so sexy, and so electric and AHH-
He wasn't sure at first when you got pregnant. He knew what his childhood was like, and the notion of bringing another person in this world was sickening because of it.
When his son was born, he was crushed. The small child looked exactly like Ryomen, just as Ryomen had looked like his father. It was a face that was historically unlovable, a face that was historically cursed. And it crushed him because he already wanted nothing but the best for him.
His worries were quickly brushed aside as he saw you reach for you son. The love in your eyes as you doted on him, smiling with pride at your strange creation. You already held so much more warmth than his mother ever did. Maybe this kid had a chance.
His son is like him in more than looks. His son is exactly like him in behavior too. Meaning he's not the easiest kid to handle. He's fussy in the night, demanding during the day. A tike in need of constant attention. Sukuna was sure you would grow to resent the rug rat, and in turn him for giving you the child.
Yeah, that never happened. You never raised an unloving hand to your child, you rarely even raised your voice. You treated him with the same love and care you always had. Your gentle sweetness never faded. It left Ryomen floored.
Because if you could forgive his son, assure him that "that's just how babies are!" And that it would never be your "little miracles" fault, then shit why didn't his mom ever forgive him? Why was it always his fault? He was just doing what babies do.
The realization that Ryomen wasn't actually a burden, just a small child that didn't ask to be born, and that his parents were actually the villian hits him like a truck. It went against everything he had ever been taught, but it made such clear sense. In a weird way it felt like a weight was lifted off his shoulders. He didn't have to carry around the guilt anymore.
Slowly, Ryomen learns to heal his trauma while raising his own son. A son that he hopes to one day be a better man than he ever was. A son who knows love, and caring. With a mother who never faltered in her adoration of her family.
Ryomen was worried a child would ruin what you two had built, but in reality the baby only made everything stronger. He lived and cherished his family, more than he'd ever be able to express. He's so grateful for his son, his son who helped him in ways he'd never understand, that he's not even entirely opposed to the idea when you suggest child number two.
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mooshywrites · 3 months
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Just the male bg3 companions reacting to their tav saying i want a baby can we please have a baby
I want a kid with all of these men so bad its not even funny ;-;
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Halsin -
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~ Halsin would’ve been absolutely over the moon when you asked him to have a baby
~ He’d pick you up and twirl you around, chuckling with a big belly laugh
~ He’d immediately begin talking about everything under the sun
~ Where to make a nursery, toys he needed to whittle, people he needed to tell, all the works
~ He sat you down and immediately went around to all of your adopted orphans, telling them they were going to have a little siblings
~ You had to follow around after him, nervously telling all of the kids it would be a year or two before that happened
~ When you finally caught up to Halsin, he had an impossibly big grin across his face
~ “I can’t wait to bring a little one into the world. I hope they look just like you, my heart.”
Astarion -
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~ Astarion was… hesitent at first
~ He poked and prodded you with a smirk, asking to make sure you didn’t want to just practice having a baby
~ When you assured him you wanted an actual baby, his face took on a vulnerable expression
~ He never thought he’d be able to have a family, and the idea scared him just a little
~ He was even more afraid he wouldn’t be a great father figure
~ You held him close and told him that you thought he’d be a wonderful parent, that he had so much love to give if he wanted to
~ You offered to wait another decade or two to talk about it again, afraid to make him too uncomfortable with the idea. If he didn’t want a baby, that would be fine. You loved him, after all
~ He shook his head quickly, talking about how it was something he wanted. He just needed to be brave enough to think it was something deserved
~ “Besides, darling. It would be a crime to humanity not to continue these gorgeous genes.”
Gale -
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~ Gale thought you were joking when you asked, he laughed along with your question
~ As soon as he realized you weren’t joking, he froze before breaking into a bright smile
~ He pulled you into a close hug, nodding, not being able to put his thoughts and feelings into words
~ He wondered aloud whether your child would be a wizard like him or not
~ Whether Tara would teach him how to parent since she spent so much time with him as a child
~ Tara sat for a while, telling stories of toddler Gale and how much of nightmare life would be if your kid was anything like the man
~ Gale wrote out a letter to his mom before you stopped him, reminding him that you weren’t actually pregnant yet.
~ “You’re absolutely right. Should we get on that now, my love?”
Wyll -
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~ Wyll crushed you with a hug before the last word exited your mouth
~ He was so excited at the thought of being a father, almost to the point that everything took a backseat
~ Most of the time, he talked about how he could help Baldur’s gate, what else he needed to do to serve the people
~ But lately, all he talked about was the thought of having a baby
~ He was incredibly kind about it, having long conversations with you whether you wanted to adopt or have the child yourself
~ He wanted you to be completely comfortable with the process, it almost seemed to pain him to think of you holding the brunt of the responsibility in the decision
~ At night, you’d catch him reading faded books on parenting
~ You read one, almost laughing at how old-fashioned some of the advice was. He just gave you a genuine smile when you pointed it out
~ “I just want to be the best Father I can be.”
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