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#but I guess they don't count December posts for these
worldsentwined · 2 years
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I posted 231 times in 2022
55 posts created (24%)
176 posts reblogged (76%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@grammarpedant
@blackrabbitrun
@minutia-r
@baladric
@notapaladin
I tagged 231 of my posts in 2022
#my art - 39 posts
#the queen's thief - 24 posts
#dnd - 23 posts
#the murderbot diaries - 21 posts
#dungeons and dragons - 20 posts
#queen's thief - 20 posts
#poetry - 19 posts
#silly things - 16 posts
#oh i love this - 15 posts
#murderbot - 12 posts
Longest Tag: 139 characters
#because at this point i've sort of forgotten who's into what and also half of my brain is at all times consumed with my original characters
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
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Not quite midnight here, but since the AO3 collection is live, here is my gift for @vaysh11 in the @mbd-gift-exchange! True story, I haven’t actually watched the Mandalorian but the idea of Murderbot and the Mandalorian encountering each other in a bar in space was such a good mental image that I had to draw it. I hope you like it! You can also find it on AO3. (Bonus: a ficlet describing Murderbot’s reaction to this heavily armored stranger, as seen in a conversation with everyone’s favorite research vessel. Read it on AO3 or under the cut!)
<opening secure feed channel>
SecUnit? Is everything okay?
I'm not sure. Running a risk assessment now.
Do I need to deploy the-
For fuck's sake, ART, do NOT deploy the Pathfinders. This guy just has a lot of weapons, that's all
Just weapons?
And armor
What kind of armor?
<file sent: ArmorGuy.img>
Mandalorian
What?
That's a Mandalorian warrior. Culturally significant armor style, beskar steel. I can send you an info packet if you want
<file sent: Mandalore_culture.file>
<file sent: Mandalore_history.file>
<file sent: Mandalore_religion.file>
Sure, ART, go ahead and send it, not like I have anything better to do than read
You don't have to be sarcastic, I'm just trying to help
You can help by telling me if I need to worry about him going after my humans
Our crew, you mean?
...
...
Yes, our crew
Unlikely. Has he shown any interest in them?
No. I just...he has a LOT of weapons
And armor, don't forget the armor
Yes, thanks, I'm very aware of the armor
Do I detect a note of jealousy?
Fuck off, ART
<secure feed channel closed>
62 notes - Posted December 31, 2021
#4
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Wanted a new phone wallpaper (that would fit my new, awkwardly large phone) so I played around and doodled on top of a pretty texture my friend @audreycritter made.
92 notes - Posted February 21, 2022
#3
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New @mayakern skirt arrived today! I love how the pockets are green inside, it's such a fun detail. (Also, many many thanks to Devin for exchanging my order for the next size up after I bought a different skirt in the recent sale and realized I'd prefer a larger size, this one fits perfectly!)
124 notes - Posted June 2, 2022
#2
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Immakuk and Ennikar they anointed each other with the oil of the gods made only for the gods
So a few weeks ago @shaelit asked if anyone had drawn that scene, and then the request got shared in the QT discord server and I was bullied into drawing it lovingly reminded that I have the ability to draw. Anyway, it was high time I did some art from these myths, the Immakuk and Ennikar stories are my favorite in the series and this one is a particular favorite.
124 notes - Posted November 11, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
This has probably been said before on the posts about leaving comments on fics you like (especially when you get the "already left kudos here" banner) but it just occurred to me that the easiest comment to leave when you have already left kudos is "I liked this fic so much I read it twice".
223 notes - Posted October 12, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
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maddy-ferguson · 23 days
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shows i've watched the most:
4. new girl (x7)
3. teen wolf (x4-11 depending on the season)
2. glee (x8)
1. gilmore girls (x16.5)
i don't know why i wrote it like this because i don't know where i should actually put teen wolf
#just letting you know#and like i say: brf slt#i'm in the midst of my 17th gilmore girls rewatch. watch. my 16th rewatch#i've actually also seen mtv scream 7 times that's crazy#it's only two seasons like 22 episodes so it feels very different the others are all over 100 episodes#(well no teen wolf is exactly 100 episodes)#that's why i'm not putting it. i didn't even think of it i just remembered it and checked...but i'm telling you now#with teen wolf it's like. i rewatched it every december from 2019 to last year last year was my last rewatch i think i made a post about it#and the first time after i was done with season 6 i was like i want to rewatch the first seasons so bad they're so fun so i did that i#watched the first three seasons again and then there's years where i rewatched everything once and then season 3 again and i really don't#fuck with season 6 so at one point i was like why am i putting myself through this. i can literally stop doing this it doesn't even matter#i've already seen it plus i'm watching season 3 again after that anyway#i think the only other show i've seen more than twice is grey's anatomy? not in full but there's a lot of episodes from the first 10 season#s#i've seen 3 to 4 times. for all my other shows it's probably only 2 times#wait lie i've seen all of stranger things more than 3 times. but it's so short and i've seen season 1 a lot more than i've seen season 4#and that's obviously also the case for tw but it's not the same...there's only like 35 episodes or however many there are#there aren't even 35 episodes there's 34#i've seen season 1 six times. which isn't 'a lot more than how many times i've seen 4 if i've seen all of them more than 3 times'.#ngl. i actually don't know how many times i've seen a lot of teen wolf episodes like these are my numbers on tvst but i actually can't#count so i have to trust my past self who also couldn't count. but if it's not 4-11 it's 4-10 or 4-12 idk...there's episodes i've seen 15#times it happens#it hasn't happened for any other show it's just tw and gilmore girls. but they're so different i never watch just one gilmore girls episode#by itself. except twenty-one is the loneliest number when i turned 21#actually my most rewatched teen wolf episode is probably closer to 20 than it is to 15. and you would never guess what it is. it's#insatiable! i love it. hold still don't fight hold still <- only real insatiableheads will understand this#insatiable probably taught me the word insatiable both in french and in english i was like 13#i hope you won't judge me for being a wolfie🙏
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dirtyzucchini · 5 days
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Let me tell you something about Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police, who came to Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father and, for reasons that don't need exploring at this juncture, remained, attached as liaison with the Canadian consulate.
There was never much of a chance that Benton Fraser would grow up to be what most people would casually call "a regular guy". From what little insight we get, no part of his childhood would have been standard. Looking at the anecdote Bob Fraser tells in Burning Down The House, we can assume that Benton grew up in a cabin his father built by hand, in a location remote enough and far enough North that living in an igloo during the construction of said cabin was a sensible thing for his parents to do. We see one picture of the family in Good For The Soul, and it is a puzzler:
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Now, I wasn't around in the mid to late 1960's when that photo would have been taken, and I've never been to Canada's far North, but everything I could find anywhere tells me that that is not how (white!) people dressed then even up there, and no, I am not talking about trendy fashion. Everyday clothing looked pretty much like what we still wear today, but the people in that picture don't. They look like this guy - a European "explorer" whose picture was taken in 1889:
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Side note: I am purposely only talking about white/western/mainstream society in this post because the Frasers are white.
I wonder what drove them to live like this, and so far away from other people? It can't have been money, Bob would have made enough to support them. I guess Fraser's parents weren't regular guys, either.
Anyway, we know that Bob wasn't around much while Fraser's mother was alive, and even less so after her death. He handed the boy off to his own parents instead, and Benton was raised by literal, real life Edwardians, people who were born before the invention of band-aids and bubblegum. Public radio broadcasts were cutting-edge technology when they were young. I'm glad they stepped up, and I'm sure they did their best, but they weren't exactly well-equipped to prepare a child for life in modern society. They were librarians who for some reason moved around a lot. When he was eight, they took Benton to a place called Alert - the northernmost continously inhabited place in the world. Unfortunately it's inhabited by soldiers and researchers who go there on six-months-tours, but it counts because the tours overlap. Fraser would have been the only child there, and, the times being what they were, his grandmother the only woman. What librarians would have done in Alert we can only speculate about, but between this and the fact that they helped build an English-speaking library in China before the revolution, we can safely assume that we are dealing with another generation of non-regular Frasers here. This idea is supported by the fact that they fed Fraser arctic tern for Christmas. Each bird weighs under 130 grams, and they would be hard to come by in northern Canada in December because they migrate to literally the other end of the world after breeding in the Arctic in the summer. I'm not entirely certain what this says about Fraser's grandparents, but it sure says something, doesn't it?
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This bird may scream, but it does not scream Christmas to me.
Listen, I LOVE that Fraser's grandmother taught him how to box from a book.
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Perhaps this one from 1922? In this book, the writer "not only describes the various moves of the game and traces the history of their development but deals comprehensively with all the factors of body and mind that make for success in the ring." Sounds like a good choice!
I do NOT love that she taught him that being in the hospital for three weeks after being shot in the back is "babying yourself". She also raised Bob Fraser to be the kind of man who tells his journal "The last time I saw Ben, he was barely tall enough to reach my belt. When I said good-bye he shook my hand. Never a tear or a complaint. Seven years old and he's already a stronger man than I'll ever be. Someday I'll tell him.", and friends, I DO NOT love that at all. That is NOT a healthy way to deal with emotions, and I think we can agree that growing up guided by these mindsets did Fraser no favors at all. Look at how he lives! His apartment is absolutely bare-bones, no personality, and after that he literally lives in his office - this is a man who gets REALLY uncomfortable when he's comfortable, is what I'm saying. Everything he does is quick and efficient to make sure he can devote a maximum amount of time to his work. I'd bet "Idle hands are the devil's workshop" was a very common saying in the Fraser household.
Look, our upbringing informs who we become, how we approach life, how we connect to those around us. Fraser's view of the world is completely different from how other people see it. Long before he's displaced geographically, he's displaced in time.
He grew up without TV, and while living with librarians gave him access to a large number of books, the libraries they worked at served remote communities and would not have been all too well funded. It stands to reason they would have had to make their books last as long as possible, and that new purchases would have been, shall we say, conservative? Copies of beloved classics, books with general appeal, books with educational/instructional value would have made up the bulk of purchases. Even if the librarians wanted to, there would have been little money to buy more controversial books - and it doesn't seem likely that Fraser's grandparents would have wanted to. Fraser probably grew up on adventure tales, detective stories and, as a teen and young adult, the classics from Austen to Shakespeare.
When he gets to Depot in Regina to become a Mountie he has nothing in common with the other recruits, and that continues throughout all his career. There's a reason he's still a Constable after all his years of service: he's severely lacking in social skills, and his upbringing is a big part of that problem*. He was raised by Edwardians on Victorian (and Romantic) mores and values, and bridging that gap to make connections with people from what's essentially a different world is very, very hard.
TL,DR: Fraser is both an alien and a time traveler, and we should remember that when we talk about him.
*Other parts of the problem are his queerness and neurodiversity, but those are topics for another essay. Please know that by problem I do NOT mean there's something wrong with him, I mean that there's something wrong with how society treats people like him.
Big thank you to @sammaggs and @sammeltassensammelsurium for excellent feedback!
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 9 months
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Holiday Treats
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Summary: Christmas Eve is filled with cuddles and cookies, but Christmas morning....now that's filled with something even more delicious
Warnings: slight angsty bits i guess, smut(fingering, unprotected vaginal sex)
Authors note: yes, i said I wouldn't be posting here anymore but ya know what, I've put too much work into this damn masterlist to not carry on even with lack of interest, and anons are off so i hopefully can't receive any more hate
Authors note 2.0: its late, but here's the first Christmas fic!
Word Count: 4293 BuckyNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist
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   Steam surrounds Natasha as she stands under the showerhead, letting the hot water cascade down onto her body and soothe her muscles. After a few more minutes she decides it's time to get out, even if she doesn't want to leave its warm embrace and step out into the chill of the apartment. Not that it truly was cold, not with the heat cranked up the way it was to fight off the outside December weather, but still, it was enough of a difference to matter.
   With the water now off, she's treated to the sound of Christmas music as it softly plays in the living room, filling the apartment in a cozy and cheerful atmosphere. It brings a smile to her face, and she now finds herself much more willing to get out. She opens the glass shower door and carefully steps out, wrapping herself and then her hair in fluffy towels adorned with little snowmen embroidered in the corners.
   She quickly dries herself off and moves closer to the countertop, grabbing her clothes and quickly putting her bra and underwear on. She slips on a pair of leggings next before finishing the look with her new Christmas sweater that you had gotten her. She wipes away the fog on the mirror in order to get a glimpse of how she looks in it, and her smile widens. She hopes you like it on her just as much as she does.
   After drying her hair she finally emerges, and makes a beeline out of the bedroom in order to find her lovers, and her heart practically melts when she finds you both. 
    “Why are you making some when we have these?” James, who also has on the Christmas sweater you bought him, asks as he looks over at a pile of boxes on the table
   “Because those are premade kits for us to make gingerbread cookie houses” you explain, “And I, am making us regular cookies to eat”
   “We can't eat these?” he asks
   You chuckle as you sort through your cookie cutters, “We can, yes. But I thought it would be nice to have a variety to bake together too”
   “Can we make peanut butter ones?” Nat asks, making her presence known. Your face lights up when you see her in her sweater, making her heart swell
   “Of course we can” you answer, smiling softly at the two as she joins James at the table, “I have supplies for some chocolate chip ones and sugar cookies too”
   “You're spoiling us” James says, but the way the corner of his mouth tilts up tells you that he isn't really against that notion 
   You shrug, “The two of you deserve to be spoiled. Especially at Christmas”
   Both practically melt at hearing that, and neither could fully understand what they did to deserve such a loving and caring partner after all they've done, but they certainly were glad they were able to call you theirs.
   “Okay, so what are we making first then?” Nat asks, making her way over to you and your countertop covered in supplies and ingredients
   “Well, since we wouldn't want to ruin these fantastic sweaters you both have on” you tease, “Lets put these on”
   By the time you grab the aprons, James has also joined you at the counter, and he can't help but laugh when he sees Well Hung written on the one you're handing him in fancy cursive writing accompanied by a few decorative bulbs.
   “Don't laugh, we all know it's true” you say with a wink, leaving his cheeks to turn pink as you hand Nat one of the others
   She reacts similarly when handed hers. Santas face wearing sunglasses takes up most of the space, with the words I do it for the HOs written underneath
   “Does that mean you and James are hoes then?” She teases, “Because you know I only do things for the two of you.”
   “I know love, and I'm happy to be your hoe any day of the week. What about you James?”
   He playfully rolls his eyes before answering, “Gladly. Anytime and any place”
   “Oh, now don't tell her that” you scold, slapping his arm, “Or we'll never get these cookies done”
   She laughs, confirming your thoughts with her signature smirk, “Well, we wouldn't want that, so lets see your apron then”
   Yours has a picture of old parchment with an ink quill with the phrase I'm the reason Santa has a naughty list scrolled across it. Both chuckle as James shakes his head
   “You could say that again”
   “Hey!” You pout, “I'm actually very well behaved thank you very much”
   “Oh, we know detka(baby)” the redhead purrs, making you gulp, “Now, keep behaving and tell us where to start”
   You clear your throat in order to regain your cool, even if the blush on your cheeks remains, “Well, I have all of the dry ingredients set out already, so if one of you could grab the mixing bowls and spoon and the other grab the eggs, butter, peanut butter and vanilla extract please?”
   Without even speaking a word to each other, they head in separate directions, Nat going for the rest of the ingredients and James going for the bowls. You smile in gratitude as they both set everything on the counter, both giving excited smiles and return and it breaks your heart to think about the fact that probably neither of them have made cookies before.
   “Okay, so Tasha you're in charge of the peanut butter ones”
   “Of course” James teases, making her stick her tongue out in response
   You shake your head at their antics, but carry on, “And James, you've got the sugar cookies”
   “That's because you can’t mess those up” Nat tells him, jabbing his ribs with her finger
   “Ow, stop that” he chastises, batting away her hand with his metal one
    “Behave” you tell them pointedly, though the smile on your face tells them you aren’t entirely serious
   Still both compuse themselves, and turn to you waiting for you to guide them in cookie baking. They follow along as you tell them how much of each ingredient to put in while you get your own batch of cookies ready, and when the time comes for mixing everything together you watch fondly as they do their best to get all the lumps out. The next task is to portion out the dough and get it on baking pans, which you had already laid out on top of the oven. You hand them each their own tray before bringing your own over
   “Good job loves, you did very well and your doughs look delicious” you praise, watching their faces light up, “Start rolling them into balls for the trays so we can bake them”
   “How big do we make them?” Nat asks, already starting to roll one
   You take a bit of your own dough into your hands and begin rolling it, “Big enough that you can fit all the dough onto the tray, but small enough that there's a decent amount of space between them so they don’t end up touching.”
   They both nod before proceeding to follow your instructions, and before long you have three trays full of cookies ready to bake. Natasha smiles as she looks down at her peanut butter tray and pride fills her. It was hard for her sometimes, not feeling embarrassed for having to learn something that most people were taught growing up or just learned through the normal human experience. But from the start, you and James had never treated her differently for not knowing something. Instead the two of you would always explain things to her and help her, doing it in a way that didn’t make her feel stupid or babied but instead had her confidence blossoming. And she would forever be grateful for both of your kindness and patience.
   On your other side, Bucky feels proud too, but for a different reason. He's just happy to have done something fun that will bring joy. Even if it was short lasting and in the grand scheme of things, was inconsequential. He's done so much violence and harm in his life, and even if it hadn’t been done of his own volition, that doesn’t ease the guilt that gnaws at him. But doing stuff like this, yeah, sometimes that made the guilt fade for a while. Because it was good, and harmless and it just let him be normal and use his hands to create instead of ruin. And having the two women he loved more than anything by his side, loving him despite his flaws and traumas, and sharing in those good memories, it meant more to him than words could ever even begin to describe. 
   “Okay, that should do it” you announce, breaking both of them from their trains of thought, “James could you preheat the oven to 350 please?”
   “Yeah, sure” He says, wiping his hands on his apron before moving to do as he's told
   Nat takes this opportunity to wrap her arms around your middle to pull you close against her and kiss your cheek, “Thank you detka(baby), for helping us make these.”
   “Of course love, and it can be one of our new Christmas tradition for us if you’d both like”
    “We’d love that” James answers, having seen the look on the redheads face at your words and knowing his face showed the same
   You smile as he joins in the embrace, placing a kiss on your other cheek as his one arm wraps around your waist to tangle with Nats, “Good. It’s important to have traditions. Now let's get everything in the sink and clean ourselves up. By then the oven should be heated”
   Sure enough, as soon as you all finish up cleaning and removing your aprons, the oven dings. You put your own tray in first before watching them do the same, but you had to stop yourself from shouting out to James to be careful not to touch the coils, momentarily forgetting that his metal appendage wouldn't be harmed.
  “Alright, now that they're in, we should have enough time for a cuddle session in the living room before they're done.”
   “Oh? Is that so?” Your girlfriend teases, the corners of her mouth lifting up to show her interest in the idea
   James wraps his arms around you both, “Well, then what are we waiting for? Come on”
   He leads you both into the room, but as he sees the state of the couch, his excitement falters a bit. Sensing his posture shift, the Russian tears her gaze away from the beautiful tree in the corner and moves it over to the furniture. She can hardly stifle a giggle as she takes in Liho and Alpine all stretched out, nearly taking up all the cushion space
   “Come on guys, that's just unfair” he huffs, “Can't you move over to your bed? It's just like a giant cushion. And it's in front of the fire, nice and warm.”
  To no surprise, neither feline moves or even shows interest, which deflates him further. Now you're the one trying to stifle your giggles as he goes to move them, only to be stopped by Nat
  “Nope, don't think so. They were their first”
   “You can't be serious” your boyfriend scoffs, looking over at you for help
   You raise your hands in defense, “You heard the lady. And besides, you said so yourself, their huge bed is indeed a big cushion. So…”
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   A few minutes later, the three of you are indeed on the comically large pet bed, with James squished in the middle. His arms are wrapped around your waist and Nats while the two of you hold hands behind his back. It's an incredibly soft and domestic scene, one which you doubt either of them had ever thought they'd get the opportunity to indulge in. Thoughts like that always make you simultaneously sad and happy. Sad because they deserved so much more and so much better, but happy because they're here with each other and you which means they are getting what they deserve now. And you’d give them that until the world stopped
  A log crackles and pops on the fire, which gains your attention, and as you gaze at it James breaks the silence, “Thank you for all of this Y/n, it really means a lot to Nat and I that you've helped us have our first true Christmas in god only knows how long”
   “You don’t have to thank me for that, neither of you do. It’s my pleasure to be able to give you happy memories as we spend time together. Have you enjoyed anything more than the other activities so far?”
   “I think the cartoon movies were my favorite.” Nat admits, “They brought out that childhood wonder I have rarely gotten to feel since Ohio.”
   The admission has you smiling wide and tearing up a little if you're honest, “I’m glad to hear that baby.”
   “I liked decorating the tree.” James says next, “Reminded me of when my sister and I would do it together. We always did it too, even after I’d grown and started my training for the Army and even once I was enlisted too. I hope she always carried me in spirit while continuing the tradition just like I carried her with us this year.”
  Now Natasha was holding back tears of her own as she kisses his cheek, “I’m sure she did dorogoy(darling), I’m sure she did”
   After a few more minutes of shared memories and peaceful silence the oven timer dings, signaling that the cookies were done baking. You and your two helpers trot to the kitchen to remove your respective trays, and James immediately attempts to take one to try.
   You slap his metal hand, “Your hand may not feel it, but I promise you that your mouth would”
   “But they look so yummy, and it's already past ten” 
   “Grandpa” Nat chuckles, earning herself a playful glare from the man
   “It’s not because I’m old. It’d because I know that we’ll all be up earlier than we normally would in order to enjoy ourselves here before going to Tonys” he elaborates, though you and Nat know it really is a bit of both
   “Alright, fine. I’ll give you that” you tell him grabbing some glasses and plates from the nearby cupboard, “So we’ll have our milk on stand by”
   You each put a few cookies on your plates and fill your glasses with milk before taking a seat at the kitchen table. It gives the perfect view of the city on a normal occasion, but now it's even more magical. Snowflakes flutter through the air, drifting down towards the piles that already adorn the rooftops and alleyways, and the twinkle of multicolored lights is almost endless. IT was the perfect scenery to end the night looking at, and the silence that fills the air as your partners also look over the city tell you that they feel the same and are just as enamored by the view.
   It doesn’t take long for the three of you to finish your cookies, turn off your Christmas playlist and get changed into your festive matching pajama sets. And now the three of you are settled into bed, a mess of tangled limbs and body head as you all cuddle together. 
   “Goodnight you two” you whisper, squeezing them both affectionately
   “Night Y/n, Nat” James mumbles, already half asleep
   You can feel the Russian smile against your neck at his sleepy response, “Goodnight loves”
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  Come morning, Natasha is of course the first to wake up. And no, it had nothing to do with her being excited, she was just naturally an early riser. Okay, so maybe she was a bit excited, but she would have been awake at this hour regardless. With the curtains being drawn the room is still enveloped in darkness, but that doesn’t stop her from gazing in her lovers directions. With her highly tuned senses her eyes quickly adjust, and when can begin to make the two of you out. James, as expected is still out cold, snoring softly. But to her surprise she finds your eyes wide open as you stare at her with a loving smile
   “Hi”
   “Hi” she greets, reaching out to grab your hip, “You're supposed to be sleeping”
   “One could argue the same about you” you reply, cupping her face
   She chuckles, “Touche, but we all know I’m an early riser”
  “I am too on Christmas” you explain, “I just get filled with too much excitement for the day, can’t keep my eyes closed”
   She lets out a hum of understanding as she shifts, wrapping her arms around your waist to pull you closer. With you now right up against her she tucks her face against your neck, letting her warm breath fan across your skin as her hands trace comforting circles against your pajama top
   You relax into her embrace and reach out to run your hand through her hair, scratching lightly at her scalp as you do so. It's one of her favorite gestures, and she practically purrs at the affection as she places a gentle kiss against your collarbone. As careful as possible she slipes her thigh between your own, and you catch on to what she's doing
   “You're up to something” you whisper, making her smile against you
   “Maybe” she responds, letting one of her hands go up under your shirt
   Her cool hand makes you shudder and you press yourself even further against her, “Tasha, you don’t have to”
   “I know. But I want to” she answers, beginning to trail kisses across your jaw, “I want to show you how much you mean to me, how much I love you. Please Y/n, can I?”
   You fight the urge to dumbly nod, remembering the still slumbering man behind you, “What about James?”
   “Oh, I’m sure he wants the same thing detka(baby), and we both know you can’t stay quiet” a whine escapes you at this and she chuckles before continuing, “So when you wake him, he can join us. Does that sound good?”
   “Yes” 
   “Good” she says, kissing you briefly as her hand makes it way to your hip, “Now, start grinding my love, I know you want to”
   You begin to roll your hips against her and she tenses her muscle for you. The feeling of her strength alone is enough to have even more heat pooling in your belly, but when her hands move to cup your breasts, you know you're making a mess in your panties
   “Tasha” you whimper out, feeling you core throb at just her simplest of touches
   “I’m right here” she assures, letting one of her hands trail down your body until it reaches your waistband. She shifts back enough to get a good look at your face as she slips into your pants, swiping her fingers through your soaked heat, “So wet for me”
   “Please” you beg, pushing your hips closer to entice her, and it works. She eagerly obliges, pushing two of her fingers inside you with ease and curling them just right, “Oh god”
   She begins to pump her fingers steadily inside you as her other hand still works at your chest. It's a miracle your still cognizant of your surroundings with as easily as she's able to work you up, and you can’t help but let out sounds of pleasure as she does everything just right
  “You sound so pretty detka(baby)” she whispers before connecting her lips against yours. It's full of nothing but passion as she pours out her love for you in it, making you feel a bit bad that all you can do is return it sloppily due to your current mindset
   When her lips finally pull away from yours, another arm wraps around your center and James hot breath is in your ear, “She definitely does. Best sound to wake up to”
   He gropes you over your pajamas, causing a wanton moan to leave you as your walls clench down upon Natashas fingers which has her moaning as well. She can tell how close you are so she brings her thumb up to brush against your clit
   “Ah! Tasha!”
   “Gonna cum for her pretty girl?” James asks, feeling how your body begins to shake. You nod furiously at his question and he looks at the redhead with a smile
   “Go ahead, cum when you're ready” 
   As soon as she says in you clamp down on her with a vice like grip and throw your head back against James as pleasure washes over you. Natasha is treated to a gush of your juices down her palm and the sight of you blissed out in pleasure coupled with all your earlier sounds has her underwear quite a mess themselves
   “Hell of a way to wake up” James teases, his hand gently rubbing your side to help calm you down
   Nat only smiles at him, “Well, she isn’t complaining”
   “Neither am I” he assures, reaching out to cup her face, “But now I think it's your turn”
   Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink as he pulls her in, letting her lips meet yours once more before his takes your place. You let your hands roam across the toned muscles of her abdomen as the two of them kiss, and try not to squirm as her fingers finally slip from inside you
   “But Y/n- ”
   “Will be fine, I’m a great multitasker.” he states, shifting slightly to allow you to feel the bulge at the front of his pants
   “Oh” you moan, feeling yourself already becoming needy for him
   “You like how that sounds baby?” he asks, his chin stubble tickling your ear
    “Yes please” you answer, reaching back to palm him
    His hips lightly roll against you, “Get your pants off for me then”
    You wiggle to do just that while you're still stuck between the two. Once he realizes you've done as he asked he moves his pants and boxers down enough to free his length, which is already throbbing at just the mere idea of pleasing his girls. He guides it forward, pressing the tip against your dripping folds and you watch his hand move to grab your girlfriends plump ass, “And what about you Tasha, you okay with this?”
   “Yes” she affirms, moving slightly to both be closer to you and give him better access
   His hand withdraws from her momentarily to hoist your heg up over her waist, and he pushes himself inside you. You gasp as his thickness stretches you open, and your hands find purchase on areas of your girlfriend to help ground yourself. Before Natasha can even register it, his hand is in her bottoms, and his fingers are toying with her entrance
   “James…please”
   “I've got you” he tells her before slipping two fingers inside her just as she’d done with you
   She moans at the stretch and shivers at your despret touches as he starts to roll his hips forward, making you take him even deeper. One of the perks of his serum is the extra stamina, which definitely comes in handy at times like this. He's able to keep up with ease, pumping and curling his fingers in Natashas cunt in perfect rhythm with how he's thrusting his dick into yours
  “God you both feel so good around me” he groans, quickening his pace a little 
   Natasha lets out a moan of her own and her own as he hits that perfect spot inside her, and you find yourself eye to eye with her as her hand clutches onto your thigh as pleasure overtakes her features. The sight alone has you clenching down on James even harder so he starts to move his thumb against your girlfriends clit, reveling in how she begins to shake
   “Oh god…oh god, James” she moans, her eyes practically rolling back
   “Go ahead krasivaya(beautiful)” 
   The Russian word is what sends her over the edge with a cry, which effectively has you coming right after her. As pleasure crashes over you, you can feel James erupt, filling you with his seed. 
   He continues his movements, helping you both come down from your climaxes until Nat whimpers. As soon as he pulls his hand from her she's curling up against your still heaving chest, seeking the comfort of cuddles. You waste no time in indulging her in this, wrapping your arms around her waist and pepper kisses against her hairline while James simultaneously rubs her back soothingly and kisses your neck as he snuggles against it
   “Merry Christmas moya lyubov'(my loves)” she says, trying her best to get her arms around you both, “Thank you both for being the best gift I could ever receive on any holiday”
   “Merry Christmas Tasha, James” you reply, “I love you both more than words describe”
   James smiles at you both, having never felt so full of love or hope before, “Merry Christmas my girls. Thank you for making this one, and every one after it, special”
   You and Nat hum in acknowledgement and you truly just take a moment to thank the universe. You're so glad it was you that got the privilege of having these two incredibly kind and misunderstood people by your side. You're glad it was you that could help mend their wounds and broken hearts, and know they feel the same. Without you they'd be lost, but with you they have a home. A place to be and a thing to celebrate this holiday season. And what could be more perfect than that.
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Taglist: @when-wolves-howl @chaoticevilbakugo @crystalstark02 @blackwidow-3 @mistressofinsomnia @eline03 @wizardofstories @marvelonmymind @bitch-616 @yelenasdiary
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ltbarnes · 9 months
Text
‘Tis the Damn Season
Stark U #6
Summary: It’s Christmas Eve, you’re too drunk, you’ve basically avoided Bucky and Steve for six months and the last person you’d want to meet at this party just happens to be yelling in your face. The panic attack is inevitable, really.
Pairing: college!Steve Rogers x reader, college!Bucky Barnes x reader, college!Sam Wilson x reader, college!Natasha Romanoff x reader
Word count: 7.8k
Warnings: so much angst, past SA, alcohol, talk about violence, Christmas celebrations, things finally start to happen, kissing :)
A/N: Happy holidays to anyone who celebrates and to those who don’t, I hope you have a good few days anyways <3 This is the first I’ve posted since July which is awful of me so sorry
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You didn't see them all summer. The day after your last exam was over, you bolted back to your hometown and spent the entire summer selectively ignoring messages from Bucky and Natasha and Steve and Sam asking what you were doing and how your summer was going and maybe you could all meet up and go somewhere and—
It's December now, and every goddamn day since June you have been trying to figure out if what Bucky said to you when you were sick was a fever-induced hallucination or if he really, actually, said that he wanted you to take his last name someday. It made you panic, because the entire spring term you tried to convince yourself that your feelings towards them were batshit crazy and any inkling to them feeling the same was a delusional reach, grasping for crumbs that in reality were just friendly gestures. And then he says that.
"She's just practicing her future last name, Stevie."
So, yeah...things have been weird. Three months have passed since classes started and none of you want to mention what happened right before summer break. Actually, with each day passing you feel more like maybe it was just a hallucination or a very vivid dream, because both Bucky and Steve act like it never even happened. Bucky even had his mouth latched onto some blonde sophomore at a dumb, stupid frat party on Halloween. You went home right after and cried for two hours. But it's not hard to conclude that even if there was some spark or connection or anything beyond friendship with either of them before summer, it has died out completely.
The subject will probably never be broached. You're too scared of confrontation and definitely too scared of revealing unreciprocated feelings for that to happen. The slightly tense atmosphere in the loft is entirely your fault—your lack of communication with anyone in the group during the summer has made them a little confused, you guess. You mostly spend time in your room, giving excuses of studying and talking with parents on the phone and 'I'm just tired, sorry'.
Spending too much time with Natasha scares you too, because she reads you so well and you don't want her to know how hurt and unhappily in love you are. She'll try to do something about it and then Steve and Bucky will catch on and then you will end up rejected and labeled as crazy, because who the fuck falls in love with two people?
That doesn't mean you've managed to avoid her. Living in the same apartment as her definitely makes that hard, but just the fact that she won't let you makes it impossible. Last week she even broke into your room when you had it locked, because apparently she knows how to pick a lock open in under ten seconds. She absolutely knows something is off, but so far she hasn't brought it up.
Natasha is the sole reason why you're now standing in the backyard of some rich kid's house just off campus, surrounded by smoke from cheap cigarettes and fairy lights hung up between the trees and one too many shots of vodka in your blood. It's December utterly and thoroughly—there's snow on the ground but people still haven't accepted the fact that wearing their short dresses and tank tops without jackets does not work anymore. Ice drops hangs from the tree where you stand, listening to Natasha talk with a drunken girl looking for her phone.
It's fun, sure. Not the worst party you've been to and not the best either. You talked to the girl you've been sitting next to in History class earlier for almost twenty minutes. Got free vodka. It's Friday and you don't have any exams to study for. None of that makes you forget that things aren't the same.
"Nat. Nat." You poke her shoulder repeatedly, obnoxiously probably, until she glances over her shoulder with a slight glare.
"What is it?"
"I'm gonna get 'nother drink. Inside," you tell her, pointing with your thumb towards a hedge even though it was meant to be the door. Natasha seems to understand anyway.
"Okay. Don't wander off too long. And come back here right after."
"Yes, ma'am." You give her a half-assed salute before turning around, swaying slightly in your step. It's the uneven and slippery surface of the snow-covered ground, you tell yourself.
There's a lot of people here, is what you note as you push yourself through the seemingly endless crowds of the living room. You kind of hate that they haven't played a single song you like and if Steve was here he would agree, because he doesn't listen to any music made after the internet was born. Bucky would then make fun of Steve and you would laugh and everything would be right in the world. Instead you're pressed to kitchen drawers of a dark kitchen, cheap vodka mixed with soda running down your throat.
The kitchen is crowded too, but either way it's a respite from whatever the hell's going on in the living room. Jumping up and down and calling it dancing (you were doing the same the hour before). You're too drunk to be miserable about everything happening in your life this entire term and much too drunk to feel the absolute atrocious taste of your drink.
In half an hour you will probably throw up and tomorrow will be spent nursing a horrible hangover, but those consequences seem insignificant right now. You just keep thinking about the image of Bucky shoving his tongue down someone's throat that wasn't yours. It was heartbreaking. That he's not here is a good thing, because you'd either witness the same thing again or actually bring it up to him, and that's much worse. God knows it's only a matter of time before Steve does the same thing.
Someone pushes into you, forcing the liquid from your cup to spill from the confines of the red plastic onto your dress. It's black, so it doesn't really matter, but the alcohol still seeps through the fabric until it reaches your skin.
"Shit, fuck—"
Your hand tries to somehow dry your dress by fanning the fabric, which obviously doesn't help very much, and the paper towels placed on the counter in front of you escape your drunken mind completely.
Fresh air and icy winter winds are the only options, so you push through and stumble into people on your way outside. It takes a lot longer than it should. You can't really see much considering the dizziness and darkness inside, but somehow, magically, you are eventually dragging your way towards Natasha who stands in the same place as before.
"Nat. Natty—I spilled. Look."
The black dress with the now wet patch is lifted towards her by your hands, highlighted for her to see. You sway as you tell her.
"Jesus, you can barely stand straight," Natasha answers with a stabling hand to your shoulder, shaking her head to herself instead of focusing on the very urgent fact that you spilled on yourself.
Natasha turns to the girl she's talking to, saying something you can't bother to decipher, before stepping aside with a guiding arm around you.
"We gotta get you home before you embarrass yourself for real," she mumbles underneath her breath.
"I heard that," you whisper, a loud hiccup following. Whoops.
She rolls her eyes, fishing her phone up from her pocket.
"Who—who you writing? To?" you ask, slightly aware that your sentences lack correct structure but not really caring. As long as the message comes across, right?
"I'm texting Steve. I can't drive and you sure as hell can't."
Even in your state, panic instantly sets in over the mention of his name even though you live in the same goddamn apartment.
"Nooo. No Steve."
Your hand grasps for her phone. Nat pulls it away from your reach much quicker than you can comprehend.
"Yes Steve. You're a mess and he's the only one with the patience to take care of this level of drunk. I don't care that you're avoiding them for some stupid goddamn reason," she tells you.
"Nat," you whine. "He can't see me. I spilled!"
She just glares at you. "I swear to god, Y/n...nobody cares that you spilled your drink. I can't even see it."
"I'm so drunk!"
"Yeah, I know. Just—just stay here, okay? I'm going to get you some water so you can sober up by the time your precious Steve comes for us."
Natasha is heading inside before you can process her words. Waiting in place for a few minutes turns into an eternity in your mind. She should know better than to leave you unattended and then expect you to stay—really, it's her own fault. You will accept no blame if Nat gets mad at you for going inside again. It's cold and you need to go to the bathroom. Also, you're mad at her. Telling Steve to come get you? That's just...embarrassing.
Once again you're shouldering your way past people on about the same level of intoxication as you. There's a bad remix of a Christmas song playing loudly. Makes you wanna punch whoever's phone is connected to the speaker. The bathroom is so, so far away. It's something the architect of this house should've thought of before he put it at the very end of this long hallway you're currently making your way through, but clearly he didn't have you in mind.
"Fuck! Watch where you're going, asshole," some girl seethes at you as your shoulder nudges against hers. A nudge is an exaggeration—you brushed against it at most. She's probably an aggressive drunk, that's all.
You don't answer, instead fumbling for the door handle to what you believe might be the bathroom. Some couple is making out in here, the girl with her ass planted on the edge of the bathtub and the guy nearly devouring her face. Doesn't look very pleasant, if you're honest.
"Out. I need to pee."
Your hands find their way to their shoulders, ushering the lovesick pair out of the room without much protest from either of them. They're still making out as they walk out.
Despite your less than sober state, you manage to remember to lock the door after they leave. Some of the mascara that previously inhabited your lashes has moved down to rest under your eyes. You rub it away, smudging it slightly, but it just makes you look a little more like one of those cool girls you always see on campus. It will do.
You kind of want to throw up, but decide against it. That hasn't happened since you were a freshman, and you'd like to keep it that way. Staring at yourself in the mirror occupies your time in the bathroom instead, swaying slightly with your hands placed on the cold sink. If Steve saw you now he would be so disappointed. At least you imagine he would be—that fatherly look on his face as he tells you how you need to be more mindful with your alcohol consumption. Did you even watch who poured your drink? Never go anywhere alone at a party. Especially not a frat one. You know better than this, Y/n.
Steve's imaginary voice is interrupted by someone banging on the door, shouting for you to hurry the fuck up. It's been over ten minutes, but to you it just feels like three, and Natasha has been looking for you ever since she returned to the garden with a glass of water in her hand and no one to give it to. It's not her banging on the door, unfortunately, but instead a dickhead guy who has no patience. Can't a girl spend some time alone in the bathroom doing nothing anymore?
The guy glares at you as you push the door open, stumbling out into the crowded hallway while paying him no mind. It's dark save for the red LED-lights plastered on the walls, making it feel like a seedy dive bar instead of a seedy house. You don't see much.
"Hey! Hey, you—the girl with the black dress!"
Someone pushes their way past the people talking and making out and leaning against the walls, shoving through them as he searches for your attention. Of course, you don't really think it's you he's after. Half of the people at this party are wearing black dresses.
A clammy hand finds purchase on your shoulder, halting you in your less than gracious steps and turning you around with ease. Head tilted back, gaze running upwards until they settle on the face of a quite attractive guy. He doesn't look pretty happy to see you. You're not very happy to see him either.
The blood drains from your face, stealing away all that alcohol-induced heat within a second as his curly hair and green eyes look down at you with that same contempt he had when Sam dragged him away from the kitchen almost a year ago. You had hoped you never had to see him again. It was a naive thing to wish for.
"Y/n, right?" he asks bitterly. You don't answer, but he takes your silence as a yes. It was probably a rhetorical question anyway. His slightly crooked nose was perfectly straight the last time you saw him. His face is committed to your memory, burned in to taunt you on sleepless nights and everytime an unknown man walks a little too closely when you're out alone. "Your little boyfriend broke my fucking nose. You know that?"
Another rhetorical question. Definitely more threatening. Might be the tight grip he has on your arm too. Either way, his mere presence has apparently stripped away your ability to breathe normally. It feels like you've been running to the point of nausea, dark spots dancing before your eyes as he shakes you in attempt to get an answer.
"You ruined my fucking reputation. For what? I barely touched you. Such a sensitive fucking bitch, going around telling everyone that..." His voice trails off, ushering you into a quiet corner when he realizes people are staring. "Got nothing to say now, huh? Been so good at running your fucking mouth before, haven't you?"
"Let me go," you whisper, voice wavering. You don't sound assertive at all, instead weak and fearful. It's what you feel, as an upbeat, slightly bad cover rendition of "All I Want For Christmas" booms through the house. Girls shrieking in excitement over in the living room reaches your ears. You would have joined them if you weren't currently cornered by the guy who assaulted you in your own kitchen a year ago.
"No, we're going to fucking talk. What the fuck were you doing, going around saying shit like that about me to everyone?"
"I...I didn't..." Your lips part between words, breathing out shakily, trying to articulate sentences long enough to make sense. Why can't you speak? Why can't you even think?
"You didn't what?" he seethes. "You're such a fucking bitch, you know that? Acts all innocent and hides behind her friends. My nose is fucking crooked forever because of that fuckhead you sent after me."
Is it the alcohol that renders you this goddamn useless? There's just tears springing to your eyes, unable to say anything in defense of yourself. Can't even walk away.
He pushes you against the wall, knocking the breath out of you. To other people it probably looks like you're hooking up. At least that's what you hope they think, because otherwise you want to wonder why no one is intervening.
"Joshua, please let me go," you tell him again, even more pathetic this time. You're crying now, curled in on yourself in attempt to make yourself as small as possible.
"Fuck, you're so—"
"She told you to let her go."
The assertive, familiar tone booms through the hallway. It doesn't really, can probably only be heard by the people around you, but it feels like it when Steve's tall figure pushes through with hasty steps towards where you and Joshua stand, followed by a glaring Bucky with his jaw clenched so fucking tightly. A sob of relief is drawn from your lips, muffled by the back of your hand.
Joshua steps back instantly. Kind of funny to think that he's so scared of those two, and sad to think that he only respects a 'no' when it comes from men.
"Nice nose job," Bucky speaks up, pointing at his own nose as he stares at Joshua's crooked one, courtesy of the damn good punch he managed to land with his left fist all those months ago.
"Fuck you," Joshua growls, taking a step forward in attempt to appear more threatening or something. He doesn't really succeed—both Bucky and Steve towers over him in both length and build, unrelenting in their stance. As if they're stone walls keeping out the enemy.
Steve rolls his his eyes, shaking his head with a sigh. "Just get out of here. Don't go near her ever again, you hear me? Bucky's glad to fix your nose otherwise. Break it right back. Can't promise the result will be very good, though."
Bucky stands slightly behind Steve, raising an eyebrow in Joshua's direction that tells him there's not even a trace of a lie in the blonde giant's statement.
"You—fuck this." Joshua throws his hands in the air, aiming the most distasteful glare over his shoulder in your direction, before pushing past Steve and Bucky with a shove.
Your body instantly deflates, the tension melting off your limbs as you close your eyes and lean back against the wall. Gentle, firm hands instantly reach your cheeks, your arms, searching for any trace Joshua might have left behind on your body.
"Hey, hey. Y/n, are you okay? Did he touch you? Sweetheart, look at me."
Bucky's voice draws you out of the anxious, panicked state you slipped into, fluttering your eyelids open to see his worried frown and an equally worried Steve looming behind him. Wet cheeks and red-rimmed eyes greet them, pupils dilated from the alcohol.
"Y/n, are you hurt? How long have you two been talking?" Steve adds, looming over you in such a way that his large frame blocks out any of the colorful lights plastered on the walls.
They already know you're drunk—Natasha was the one to call them here to get you, after all. Maybe your silence and obvious intoxication makes it clear to them after a couple of seconds that an answer from you is a few minutes away, a few miles of distance from this foggy, packed house. Nothing more is said or requested from you. Instead your trembling form is led away and out into the biting cold by gentle hands belonging to your friends. Even your slight shock can't shield you from freezing your ass off as soon as you get out into the fresh air again, teeth beginning to chatter within the second step on tightly packed snow.
"What the—where the hell have you been? I swear to god, Y/n, I was gone for two minutes! I've been looking for you everywhere!" an angry Natasha yells, running perfectly towards the three of you down the slippery lawn to where Steve is currently helping you into the backseat of his car.
"Nat," Steve says, giving her a pleading look that silently tells her it's not the time for a scolding.
"What? I told her to stay put when I went to get her a glass of water and she just disappeared out of nowhere. Slippery motherfucker while drunk, I swear she'll be the death of me—"
"Nat," he repeats, sternly this time. In that tone only he masters, silencing even the most eager tongues with a single exhale. "She met Joshua. And she's not okay. So please, leave your yelling for tomorrow and get in the car."
Steve holds the passenger door open, gesturing for the seat beside Bucky. He's turning the key, letting the car warm up properly while he clutches the wheel tightly. Natasha's irritated frown turns into a concerned one, nodding silently before slipping inside. Steve closes the door shut behind her.
You lean your head against the frost-covered window, fogged up by your breath two inches away from it, and close your eyes. Steve leans over you, reaching for the belt and fastens it over your torso. You forgot. He never does.
It's no surprise, doesn't startle you despite your absentminded state, when his warm hand cups your cheek, turns your head to face him. Soft, blue gaze and ridiculously long lashes. It's nothing but contrasting against the clouds released from your mouths with each breath—warm, concerned...loving? Maybe.
"Are you okay?" he whispers, thumb rubbing over your cheek.
You nod. "Yes. I am now."
Bucky puts his foot on the gas, turns on the blinker, and pulls away from the curb, out onto the streets. It's nearly soundless. The usual rumble from wheels against road is cushioned by the snow.
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"This was a mistake. Sorry, I can't—" Sam gags, moving his head out of the bathroom before returning his presence within a few seconds. "You're a real shitty guard, Nat. Why'd you let her drink this much?"
All four of your roommates are gathered in the bathroom, surrounding you as if you're a newly born lion cub in a zoo, while you puke your guts out into the toilet. Steve is kneeling on the floor beside you, a comforting hand rubbing your back, while Bucky sits a few feet away with a glass of water in hand, ready for whenever you need it.
"Fuck you. You weren't there—she was like a goddamn ghost, just slipping away everytime I blinked. Looked fucking everywhere for her. 'S not my fault," Nat answers, residing on the floor of the shower in lack of space.
"Not true," you murmur in answer, your voice echoing off the ceramic surrounding you.
You're pretty much done throwing up, it's just the exhaustion following that's keeping you slumped over on the bathroom tile. Your hand stretches out in Bucky's direction, reaching for the glass of water that's gulped down within a few seconds.
"Careful. Gonna get sick again if you do it this fast," Bucky says, unable to help himself from brushing away the stray drops of water running down your chin.
The gesture is nothing new from him. He did it when you were sick all those months ago too, and you haven't forgotten it at all. His thumb gently rubbing over your skin as if you're precious, something deserving of gentleness, is engraved into your mind. You're thankful for getting most of the alcohol out of your system, because you might not have remembered this moment in the morning if not. Fuck it if you forgot the way his pupils widen just slightly, as if he didn't mean to, as if he couldn't help himself.
"I'm fine," you whisper in answer, clearing your throat. "Got it all out."
"Good." Steve's hand moves up from your back to your head, stroking it for just a second before withdrawing his touch. "Let's get you to the couch."
"I don't wanna go to the couch. Wanna be in my bed." You're pouting. Maybe there is some trace of alcohol left in you.
"Steve and Buck will feel much less like creepy stalkers if they stare at you sleeping on the couch instead of hovering around your bedroom all night like a bunch of pervs," Natasha speaks up. A snort follows after, as if it was a joke and not a statement. Definitely tipsy too, despite unwilling to admit such a weakness.
Steve raises a reprimanding eyebrow Natasha's way, telling her to shut her mouth with just his gaze. She smirks in answer.
"Don't listen to her. A fucking liar," Bucky remarks, but there's still some form of amusement in his expression. He can't even deny the statement—he is going to watch over you. Doesn't really matter if it's in the living room or in your bedroom. "Now let's get you up. C'mon."
With a push from your arms against the cold tile, you're standing on two legs again. Steve is hovering his hand near your back, ready to support if the vodka decides to topple you over. But you're fine—just tired now.
For ten minutes it feels things are back to normal again. On the living room couch, nestled in between them, your head leaning on Steve's shoulder as a stupid Hallmark Christmas movie plays on the tv. Sam and Natasha are in their rooms sleeping, and for a few moments you forget why you kept your distance. Everything would have been good if this is how the night would end. If Steve didn't have to address the past six months.
"I've missed this. With us," Steve whispers as he strokes your shoulder absentmindedly, like it's second nature to him to have his hands on your skin. "You've been so distant lately. For months, Y/n."
The room instantly becomes tense enough to make you nauseous. A clearing of your throat, an attempt to sit up out of Steve's hold and away from this conversation that you'd much rather avoid is futile—it's instantly stopped by Bucky's hand on your chest that pushes you right back.
"No," he says sternly. "You're gonna sit right here, sweetheart, and tell us why you've barely let us see you since fall term started. 'Cause it's sure as fuck not something I take lightly. Why have you avoided us?"
You look away, shaking your head to yourself as you try to talk yourself down. You will not break. You will not confess a single thing. You are going to act like everything is fine and you are not currently freaking out being sandwiched between the only two men you would gladly be sandwiched between under different circumstances than this.
"What are you even talking about?" you answer meekly. It's clear as soon as the words come out of your mouth that no one is falling for your innocent act, not even sweet, naive Steve. Then again, you're doing a particularly bad job. "Both of you think I've been distant?"
"Cut the bullshit, Y/n. If we've done something wrong, just say so." Bucky bites his cheek, glancing down for just a second, but it's enough to let his vulnerability slip. He's hurt.
A wave of guilt instantly washes over your body, an unusual feeling. During all these months of avoiding any interaction with Bucky and Steve besides the necessary ones, you didn't think that they'd actually mind your absence that much. They might not be hopelessly in love with you like you are with them, but they're still your friends. Friends miss each other.
"Or if it's something personal, you can tell us, you know? Is it anxiety, or are you feeling generally low, or...?" Steve chips in, trying to drown out Bucky's accusatory tone.
"No, no...I'm not depressed, Steve. And none of you have done anything wrong, I promise," you say hastily, shutting down their concerns as quickly as possible while trying to buy yourself time to come up with an excuse. "I just...needed some alone time."
Bucky rolls his eyes, shaking his head. Sassy man. "Bullshit again. You've spent a bunch of time with Natasha. Sam, too. It's us you're avoiding." He points to himself and Steve with his hand. "It's been almost six months, Y/n. What the hell's your problem?" He pushes himself off the couch, standing up and blocking your view of the tv. It's as if his frustration is all contained while sitting down.
"Bucky," Steve scolds, glaring up at his friend. He's not appreciating the tone at all, that's for sure.
"There's no problem, Bucky," you tell him, shaking your head. Trying to dismiss this entire conversation before you reveal too much.
"No! Y/n, I'm going fucking crazy! This is the first time you've even let me touch you in half a year!" Bucky yells, a pleading tone in his voice that breaks your heart just a little. Because it's true. You have barely even hugged since June. You've barely talked for more than five minutes at a time.
"Don't yell at her, for god's sake, Bucky," Steve adds, his hands on your shoulders and ready to get up from the couch any second.
"What the hell's going on with you, huh?!" Bucky continues, ignoring Steve's statement. His eyes are solely focused on you, void of the usual softness. There's just anger. "Cause if you can't stand us, then tough fucking luck. I can have your fucking things moved out by tomorrow for all I care. Can move right into Walker's dorm. Bet he'd accept you with open fucking arms if you get to your knees and—“
The drop of your heart down to your stomach can almost be heard, an echoing, hollow sound. You're sure of it. Bucky shuts his mouth, as if he realizes what exactly was about to come out of it. What is not even a second of silence feels like a whole minute, before Steve shoots up from his seat beside you and grabs Bucky by the collar, rattling the whole room with the force in which he nearly tackles Bucky against the wall with. The tangy taste of iron starts to fill your mouth, your teeth biting down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. There's tears lingering in your eyes but you can't hold them back, not anymore.
"You don't fucking talk to her like that, you bast—"
"I love you! It’s ‘cause I fucking love you guys!” you yell, a pathetic sob marring the words. “So I’m fucking sorry that I’ve avoided you two but I’m trying to get over these goddamn—these feelings, but I can’t, okay! I can’t!”
The bitter delivery is punctuated by the sleeve of your sweater wiping away the tears furiously, cutting Steve off and drawing both of their wild eyes towards your figure now standing up, just a minute away from a complete breakdown. You don't even process the fact that Steve cursed. It would've been teased about endlessly in any other situation.
"I will go. I'll leave if that's what you want," you seethe with a voice so unsteady that it's almost unbearable to listen to. "But I don’t hate any of you. I don’t, and I get why you’re mad. But fuck you, Bucky. Fuck you for saying that.”
More tears fall. It's futile to wipe them away when they'll be replaced the second after. You want to say more, hit Bucky where it hurts, but you cannot get the goddamn words to form on your lips. Opening your mouth and closing it again, shaking your head, comes before hastily walking towards your room and locking yourself inside without giving them a chance to answer.
As soon as the door is slammed shut, your hand comes up to your mouth to muffle the sobs. Sinking down to the floor as if you’re in a movie, forehead resting against your knees. The rate of your heartbeats could be considered dangerously high, but you just blurted out a whole love confession for two of your roommates in the midst of a fight. How the hell could everything turn to shit so quickly? Half an hour ago all of you were joking around in the bathroom, and now you're not sure you have the courage to face any of them again.
It's a rash, impulsive decision fueled by anger and betrayal and shame, but you rush over to your closet and pull out an overnight bag that's soon filled to the brim with enough things to last you a few days. You're crying the entire time.
When you pass the living room again, Bucky isn't there anymore. But Steve is. Barely a glance his way is spared, with hasty steps heading towards the hallway. You remind yourself of a furious toddler when you angrily put on your jacket, stick your feet into your winter boots. The bag is slung over your shoulder, hand resting on the door handle.
"Don't go. Y/n, please don't leave."
Steve stands at the other side of the hallway, a broken down expression on his pretty face.
"Bucky went out of line, but he didn't mean it, I swear. He's just too prideful to admit it," he continues. You shake your head, biting down on your bottom lip. "Please, honey. It’s Christmas Eve. It won’t be the same if you’re not here tomorrow.”
"I just need some space," you whisper, brushing away a stray tear with the sleeve of your jacket. You’re so embarrassed and hurt that you can barely look him in the eye. "I can't be in the same apartment as him right now."
Steve sighs, looking about ready to just throw you over his shoulder to get you to stay. But he won't do that. That's not Steve. So instead he glances down to the floor, shaking his head to himself.
“Did you mean it?” he asks softly. “The thing about—you said you loved us. Did you mean it?”
It takes a few seconds before you nod tentatively, sniffling and keeping your gaze on a spot past Steve. He doesn’t say anything.
Steve gathers courage enough to walk up to where you stand by the door, grabbing your cheeks with his hands, thumb running over the tear-stained skin gently. For a few moments, he just looks at you. Loud thoughts running amok in that perfect head of his.
“Nothing I say right now will do my feelings any justice, so I’m gonna save any big speeches for tomorrow. But just…stay. It’s 2 am, it’s freezing out and you’re still drunk. I don’t want you out there on the streets alone. I need you to stay, even if it’s only for your own safety. Don’t have to talk to any of us if you don’t want to.”
His words makes you nod automatically. All it took was his hands on your skin and the flicker of hope his words ignite in your chest, and you conceded within a second. No hesitation left in that exhausted body of yours. He‘s not saying outright that your feelings are requited, but it doesn’t feel like a rejection either. He doesn’t seem disgusted by your confession, by the knowledge that you’re in love with both him and his best friend.
“Good girl. Let’s just—let’s get you to bed, okay?”Steve tells you, squeezing your shoulder gently. With your confirmation in form of another silent nod, he nestles the bag out of your grip and takes off the jacket from your torso.
The bed feels so soft and warm and comforting when you lie down. Steve tucks you in. It’s achingly sweet and you don’t really deserve it after avoiding him and Bucky like that for so long, but he looks out for you nonetheless.
“Steve,” you whisper, drawing his gaze up to meet yours. “I’m sorry. For being so distant.”
He shakes his head. “You have nothing to be sorry for. You were scared,” Steve answers. “Don’t worry about anything, okay? Get some sleep. You’ve had a tough night, Y/n.”
The softest of smiles grazes your lips, puppy eyes gazing up at Steve. Your wonderful, caring, perfect Steve.
“Are you alright? It must’ve been hard meeting Joshua again. And what Bucky said, it…it was far from okay.”
“I will be,” you whisper.
He nods, observes your face for a few seconds. Leans down to press a kiss to your forehead—what kind of college guy even does that? And then he leaves the room, turning the light off behind him.
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You’re woken up by a red headed, crazy woman sitting on top of you over the sheets, shaking your shoulders.
“Wake up, fuckhead. You’re gonna open the presents I got you,” Natasha urges, grinning down at you as you blink your eyes open, groaning.
“Fuckhead?” you ask, a tired chuckle from your lips as Natasha climbs off the bed.
“Yes. Don’t like it, huh?” she teases. “C’mon. The guys are already waiting.”
With slow steps and a loud yawn, the slightest trace of a hangover plaguing your body, you drag yourself out into the living room. Around the ugly, little tree that Sam insisted on cutting down from the campus gardens last week (he almost got arrested by the security guards) the three boys sit. Your gaze falls to the floor, scratching the skin right above your lip nervously, once Bucky looks up at you. Can’t really read his expression, but you figure you’ll lay the fight aside for the day. It’s Christmas, after all.
“Merry Christmas, sweetheart,” Steve says, urging you to sit down next to him right there on the carpet. You offer a soft smile, and an even softer ‘Merry Christmas’ back. You’re still unsure about yesterday. Despite there being no rejection from either of them, the uncertainty is kind of killing you. A pit of anxiety rests in your stomach, an uneasy feeling corrupting every cell as you sit down on the floor next to Steve.
Not even ten minutes later, the living room is drowning in a sea of wrapping paper. Natasha went overboard with the gift shopping this year, it seems like, but her absent father is also some kind of Russian oligarch or something so she tends to use up as much of his money as she can. You’re not complaining.
The special edition of The Hobbit, signed by the director of the movie, that you managed to get on eBay and cost you a fucking fortune is received with a whispered ‘thank you’ from Bucky. He holds it in his hands tightly, staring down at the book without a word, and you don’t know if he’s happy for it. Maybe he’s not happy with anything touched by you at this moment. He hasn’t gotten you a gift, it seems like, or maybe he threw it in the trash and burned it yesterday.
Steve got you three books that he’d heard you say you wanted months ago, and a dainty silver necklace with a bee pendant hanging from it. “You know, uh, I usually call you ‘honey’ and I thought it was a little funny, maybe. But I can exchange it if you don’t like it. It’s no problem,” he had said, even though there were tears of gratitude in your eyes. Your arms were thrown around him a second later, hugging him tightly as you thanked him profusely for the most thoughtful gift.
Now you’re leaning your back against the couch, still on the floor, watching as Sam and Natasha are tinkering with his new Nintendo Switch that he got from her (overboard with the gifts, as previously mentioned). He’s so happy it almost makes you zoned out as you watch his childlike excitement. It’s nice to see the two of them so calm and sweet with each other too. Usually bickering and getting on each other’s nerves all the time otherwise.
“Y/n, can we talk?”
Your head tilts back, looking up at Bucky standing nervously in front of you, his hand rubbing the back of his neck. There’s a deep hesitation within you, a pride that wants to say no and remain in your angry state forever without confrontation. But it’s Bucky. You hate this animosity between the two of you, the tension. Despite being pissed off and hurt and afraid that he doesn’t want you, you can’t say no, so you nod and push yourself up to a stand.
Bucky closes the door to his room behind him gently, clearing his throat and looking at anything but you. A sigh comes out of his mouth, shaking his head, before he parts his lips to speak.
“I’m so sorry, Y/n. What I said was disgusting and unforgivable and so fucking out of line. You didn’t deserve that at all. So out of proportion to what I was mad at you for,” Bucky says, running the palm of his calloused hand over his face.
“It was,” you answer honestly. There’s no use in denying that what Bucky said was stupidly hurtful. He nods, looking away from your gaze.
“It made me angry thinking that you ignored me, because at first I didn’t know what I had done, you know? And then I thought for a few months that me and Steve had been too overbearing and that you tried to keep your distance because you thought we were annoying or something. But that’s not the case. I should’ve known better by now than to think that you would do anything to purposely hurt us.”
You gulp, nodding, looking down to the floor. “I’m sorry too,” you whisper. “I didn’t know that you guys thought I had something against you until last night. Obviously, you…you know now that’s not the case,” you tell him, embracing yourself with your arms. “But last night, Bucky, I…you hurt me. I know you were angry, but saying those kind of things isn’t okay.”
“I know that. God, I know, Y/n. I’m so sorry. It was fucking childish of me, retorting to saying that Jo—“ Bucky shakes his head, hands coming up to tug at the roots of his hair. “And it felt stupid giving you that present in front of everyone, so now you think I didn’t get you anything, too, and—“
“You got me a present?”
“Yes. Of course I did, Y/n. But I saw how much Natasha had bought and that necklace Steve gave you and my gift felt stupid in comparison to that. Just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone,” he says, a little awkwardly. A little boy giving his mother a drawing he made in kindergarten, he reminds you of.
“Bucky…that doesn’t matter. I don’t care what you have gotten me. I’ll like it no matter what if it’s from you.”
He shifts in his place, contemplating something, before picking up a sweater on his bed, revealing a wrapped present hidden underneath. Bucky took the gift from the pile without anyone noticing before, throwing it into his room so no one would see.
With a tentative hand, he reaches it out to you. Doesn’t watch as you unwrap it, instead biting on his thumbnail. You reprimand him for it, and the hand returns to his side.
“Is it a book?” You run your fingers over the cover, a hardcover with nothing on it. Blank.
“It’s a photo album. Shit, it’s stupid. I don’t know,” Bucky answers, looking about ready to snatch it back, but you open the first page up before he has a chance to.
A picture of you, Natasha, Sam and Steve on the first page. It was taken last year in November. You’re all running after one of Sam’s model planes, fall leaves singling down from the sky. It’s a beautiful picture.
“4 grown idiots running after a kid’s toy - November 12th, 2022”
“It’s just pics I’ve taken with my phone, so it’s nothing artsy or anything, but…uhm.” Bucky runs his hand through his short, brown hair.
You flip the page. You’re looking out through the kitchen window, the sun shining through and casting shadows over the room and your figure curled up on the chair.
“Angel in the sun - March 25th, 2023”
A soft chuckle is drawn from your lips, resisting the urge to run your finger over the photo, but you don’t want to smudge the blank paper. On the same page there’s another picture of you with your arms around Natasha’s shoulders, nearly wrestling her to the ground with the force of your hug. You look so happy.
Bucky looks nervous as you glance up from the photo album at him. “Know it’s not much, but…yeah.”
A loud huff of hair escapes Bucky as you throw your arms around him. It takes a second or two for him to hug you back, but he soon has his chin resting on top of your head, arms around your waist.
“I love it,” you whisper, holding onto him tightly enough to constrict his breathing.
“You do? I can take it back if you don’t like it.”
Your grip around him releases, arms coming down to your sides so you can take a step back and look him in the eyes. “This is everything, Bucky,” you say softly, feeling a lump in your throat that can turn into tears any second. “The fact that you took the time to make this for me is just…it’s the most thoughtful thing ever. And these pictures are so beautiful, Bucky, and just the thought of you sitting down and glueing them onto the page and writing captions and—“
His lips against yours. Oh god. Oh my god, Bucky has his lips pressed against yours. Gentle hands hold your jaw, his head leaning down to compensate for the height difference, and Bucky Barnes is kissing you with urgency and desperation.
The shock is enough to make you unable to return the kiss. He seems to take your surprise as rejection despite the fact that you literally yelled ‘I love you’ in his face last night. Bucky steps away and takes his hands off your skin, running his hand over his mouth, shaking his head.
“I’m so sorry, don’t know what the hell came over me, I—“
On your tiptoes, fingers grabbing his sweatshirt to pull him closer, and you nearly smash your lips against his to shut up any of that doubt he carries. It’s not a graceful or very romantic kiss, but by the sound akin to a very mild growl that comes from Bucky and his hands sliding down to your waist to pull you closer, you guess he likes it anyway.
It doesn’t last more than 20 seconds. A harsh knock on the door to Bucky’s room interrupts it, forcing you part from his lips and get down from your tiptoes again.
“What the hell are you doing in there? C’mon! I’ve made goddamn Christmas brunch!” Sam yells, drawing a soft chuckle from your lips as your forehead meets Bucky’s chest.
With a soft smile, nothing said, you back away from Bucky. Slipping out of his room and leaving him there all flustered and semi-hard from a 20 second make-out session. The first ever between you, though. He thinks it’s pretty understandable.
As Bucky follows you into the kitchen, sitting down at the table by Steve, he leans towards his best friend and whispers into his ear low enough to make anyone else unable to hear.
“I kissed her, Stevie,” Bucky says with a shit eating grin on his face. “I finally fucking kissed her.”
The blond man turns his head enough to look over at Bucky, the red flush of his cheeks and ears enough to tell anyone what’s been said.
“Are you serious?” Steve asks.
“I kissed her and she kissed me back, I swear. I gave her that photo album I’ve worked on for weeks. She said she loved it, Steve.”
“I guess it’s my turn then, isn’t it?” Steve answers, a shy smile on his lips as the two of them watch you sit down opposite of them at the table, glancing through the window out at the heavy snowfall. Natasha puts a newly toasted bagel on your plate.
“Go get our girl, Stevie.”
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simmerianne93 · 8 months
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- Language of love - by Simmerianne93 x Herecirm x Simmireen
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It's finally here!!
Our spicy and lovey Countdown to Valentine's is starting now!
A beautiful collaboration between the incredibles @herecirmsims , @simmireen and myself <3.
Back in December I talked to the girls about doing something together for Valentine's Day. They were both delighted, but then at the beginning of January, they came with this wonderful idea of a counting down to Valentine's Day... and as you might have guessed, I gladly accepted.
Don't miss these two weeks of loving and spicy content for your sims to enjoy.
Today I'm opening the collab with a beautiful package base on a bouquet of roses, because what is more representative for Valentine's Day than giving roses to your loved one?
As it's said, flowers are the universal language of love. I hope you enjoy these beautiful poses that my mates and I are bringing for you.
Here you can take a look at the Blender screenshots of each pose:
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And don't forget to keep an eye on my partners and friends' accounts because we will be alternating every day to publish a pack of poses until the 14th:
Herecirm: Tumblr | Instagram | Ko-fi | Patreon
Simmireen: Tumblr | Instagram | Ko-fi | Patreon
But, without further ado, I leave you with the package description, as always:
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What is on it?
10 couple poses + 1 solo pose, all with a bouquet.
---
What do you need?
Andrew poses player
Teleport any sim by Scumbumbo or Mccc by deaderpool.
RosesBouquet_ Poseacc_fixed_STIGMATA (included in the download archive)
Instructions in the original post.
——
TOU
Do not claim my creations as your own.
Do not re-upload or modify my creations.
Do not make money of my creations.
Do not include my creations in Mods folders to download.
Please follow my Term Of Use.
——
Download it now here — FREE FOR EVERYONE!!
——————
If you want to support me:  Patreon | Ko-fi
For more poses: Pinterest |  Wix
My socials: Twitter | Instagram | BlueSky
——————
I really hope you like them and I will say on advance: Thank you so much for use them.
@ts4-poses
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petrssecrethideout · 4 months
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"Alright everyone we are back! And y'know what, instead of trying to do more of an intro, I'm just gonna leave it to you Dale."
"What? Why?"
"...you're kidding right? It's December second there's no way you're not gonna spend the whole podcast talking about cu-"
"OHHHHH YEAH! I almost forgot. Thanks for reminding me. Well folks, the cum drum challenge is finally over, and I... well I have some bad news. I didn't fill a whole barrel."
"What?"
"Yeah dude I'm really bummed about it, I feel like i let a whole bunch of people down and--SIKE! I ACTUALLY FILLED TWO!"
"Oh my god, you--"
"Hahaaaaah, I got you there didn't I? You were so worried!, but don't worry y'all, when Dale says he's going to deliver, he fucking DELIVERS!"
"So how the fuck did you manage that?"
"Ok so you know how i said I had to cum 10 times a day to make my goal, well 10 quickly turned into 14, then 23, then 34, and after that I lost count because I got this machine from a friend that jerked me off while I was sleeping, so even after I was cumming 34 times a day there was more after that."
"Jesus Christ dude, that's crazy."
"I know, I was in this constant horny haze, it felt so good, like outside of the podcast all I was doing was lifting, eating and jerkin it! Kind of felt like a vacation honestly."
"How did it affect your gains?"
"Get this: I gained 20 pounds of muscle in a month."
"NO FUCKING WAY!"
"i KNOW RIGHT! And like, I'm fucking huge so every pound at this point is an uphill battle, so, like 20!? its crazy."
"Fuck, man."
"And I'm not the only one either, I got some dms about guys who also took the challenge, and dude holy shit look at this."
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"Who is that!?"
"That is.. well I'm not gonna give out full names but Douglas from North Carolina, who was a former bodybuilder, kinda got out of it, tried out the challenge, and gained.... you're not ready for this: 134 pounds in one month."
"That--there's no way that isn't possible."
"I'm telling you dude, I thought it was fake, but he's been posting on Instagram every day and its not only real, but its SO fucking hot. He said something about competing again and, dude PLEASE. I would love to flex on stage with you."
"Ok stop trying to flirt with the fans."
"Hey, we just proved that cumming as much as possible makes me get fucking huge, I think we should let me be as horny as I want now."
"Okay, fine I guess I can't argue with that anymore, but how are you feeling now?"
"My balls hurt."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I think its like the lack of stimulation. Honestly I might have to up my rates a bit. Oh, also that reminds me I have a business idea for you. You know how those people did the bathwater thing? Well I was thinking we could maybe sel--"
"No. Absolutely not. That's probably illegal."
"Ok but if it isn't can we do it? I know I'd be able to keep up with demand, and once I add a jerking off schedule to your workout plan you'd definitely be able to help"
"MY WHAT SCHEDULE??"
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gallavichthings · 11 months
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Gallavich Masquerade
Welcome to the first ever Gallavich Masquerade!
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This is a brand new event, so feel free to ask any questions you might have.
In a Masquerade, fic authors will write one-shots anonymously. These one-shots will all be revealed at the same time on December 21st - our Masquerade Ball! - and readers (who may also be other writers) will have a bit over a month to attempt to guess who's behind each mask, that is, who wrote what. And the writers, of course, will try to fool everyone!
Details after the read more, but don't forget to please spread the word. This will be fun!
Fic requirements
All fics must have between 2,000 and 5,000 words.
No theme is required or forbidden, but, as this is an event in which the goal is to have as many people reading your fics as possible, writing fics in niche categories is not advised.
I don't know what to write about!
You can get inspiration from anything you want. It can be canon-compliant, canon-divergent, after the show ended, AU...
But, if you still need some ideas, you can find some here, here or here (not to mention @callivich always has tons of prompts lists).
Sign-ups
Signing-up is required and can be done here. For this event, sign-ups can be done up to the time of posting. Unlike other events, this is one where you will need to sign-up only at the end, after the fic is done. You'll be required to add your AO3 username, the title of your fic, the word count, and possible categories under which it falls.
What are the categories for?
In case there are too many fics and I feel like people won't be able to read everything, I'll divide the fics into categories, which will depend on what we get as well. These may be according to fic size, canon or AU, with or without smut, etc., as long as the amount of fics or words in each category is pretty much the same. But it all remains to be seen.
What if I don't have an AO3 account?
Then I'm very sorry, but in this case, you won't be able to participate (as a writer). For his event, having an AO3 account is mandatory so that you can post in the collection. That being said, a lot of people have AO3 invites, so ask right now and someone may be able to send you one.
Posting
Posting will be done on AO3 and AO3 only! This is because the Masquerade Collection will be unrevealed and anonymous. All posting must be done until the eve of the Masquerade, so December 20th. On December 21st, all fics will be revealed and available for the readers. The fics will remain anonymous until January 31st, when the game ends. On February 1st, the authors' identities will be disclosed (and your fic will appear under your account just like any other fic).
As an author, all you have to do is, when posting on AO3, choose to do it under the Gallavich Masquerade 2023 Collection (as in the picture below). I'll take care of the rest. It's important to do so when posting and not after, or it won't work.
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Voting
Voting will be done via a new form, which will be disclosed only after the fics are posted. All fic titles will be displayed and readers will chose from a menu who they think the author is.
Points
There are two ways of winning this game, as an author and as a reader.
Authors are awarded 1 point for each person who correctly guesses their fic and 3 points for each person who wrongly guesses it. That's right, you get more points if you're actually able to deceive everyone!
Readers are awarded 5 points for each fic the guess correctly, but they lose 1 point for each wrong guess. (This is to discourage people from guessing on fics they haven't actually read, as we do want people to read as many fics as possible.)
Authors can also be readers, so they have twice the chance of winning. In case categories are applied, each category will have an author and a reader winner.
Prizes
Winners will get boasting rights! XD Plus, of course, a special post for them.
If anyone would like to make fanart or edits for the winners, please let me know, that would be super nice!
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writingsforwhatever · 11 months
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Part 1: Love letters to Matthew (m.s.)
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summary: matt never felt the same way until he finally did.
warnings: very very slow burn. this is a long read, go get a snack! if you don't like reading, don't read it. ALSO, i have one shots based of this story. Their little moments leading up to the reader and matt confessing their feelings for each other. Let me know if you all are interested! enjoy my little bored mind.
A/N: Hi, before you continue reading this story, please be aware that I wrote this work of mine two years ago for my creative writing. It's my baby, and I hold it close to my heart. I lost inspiration for it a while back, but now I'm sharing it with the world. This is a long read because it's the entire story in two post. (Part 2 is posted). It's in no way connected or affiliated with Matt Sturniolo. I just made him the character because he fits the character's personality, and I needed to envision someone while I continued writing it, so I thought, why not?
word count: 27,231k
"If I could choose to live anywhere in the world, I would still choose to live here," she remarked, passing the bowl of Cheetos to Matt. "I mean, I could also pick a place in Sweden, somewhere in Northern Europe, but who could leave Massachusetts?"
Matt, sprawled out on the couch with the TV playing in the background, shrugged. "You could," he replied, smiling down at her. "Come on, don't be so negative. You can't possibly stay here forever."
"Why not? What's wrong with here?" She asked, standing up. She was now facing Matt, and a change of heart suddenly took hold. "I mean, I guess you're right." She flopped down next to him once more, sighing. "Do you think we'll ever fulfill our dreams and go to Europe together?"
"Of course, you idiot. We will, don't worry about it too much," he reassured her, glancing at her. It was the 19th day of December, a snowy day in the Bay State, and excitement was in the air. Airports were busier than usual, which meant one thing: Christmas was just around the corner.
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September 2023
"Damn it," she cursed as she unpacked her suitcase. It was September, with summer in the process of ending and fall about to arrive. She couldn't believe her parents had thrown a "party" to welcome her back from her two-month long vacation. Before leaving, she had made it crystal clear that she didn't want any crazy shit, but it turned out that Luke had talked to her parents behind her back while she was spending time with him abroad. She glanced at the poster on her wall once again and whispered with a smile, "That idiot."
Luke.
The boy with light brown eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, the one who swam throughout college, briefly dropped out, and then returned to college. He was the boy she met at Samantha's birthday party, the one her little cousin had a crush on - Luke.
"I'm so sorry," she apologized frantically, searching for the green tissue pack in her little bag while setting the glass of beer on a nearby table. Her white shirt was now stained with liquor, which was just great. The embarrassment of the situation was overwhelming, leaving her unable to think straight.
"No worries," Luke chuckled, clearly taken aback by the unexpected encounter. "I should've been more careful."
She handed him the tissues, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "That was so embarrassing. I'm truly sorry," she said with a sheepish smile.
"Don't worry about it. It’ll dry," he replied with a reassuring smile.
In that moment, she wished she could vanish into the ground, hoping some higher being might intervene and make it happen right there and right then.
"I’m going to miss you so much," Luke sighed, embracing her from behind.
She turned to face him, her expression softening. "Me too, but we'll see each other again on Christmas, okay?"
"That's a long time. I'll really really miss you," he admitted with a sad smile.
"Oh, shut up. You're probably tired of seeing my face every day," she giggled while still unpacking her suitcase.
"I could never. I love you too much." He chuckled, shaking his head.
"That's a nice touch," she pointed at her wall, changing the subject.
"You like it? Your mom helped me," he replied, smiling at her.
"Ya’ll are so dramatic," she chuckled.
Welcome back! – Haley, Mom, & Dad
After that fateful night in March when she met Luke, she had slowly stopped composing letters to Matthew altogether. The dynamics of her relationships with him had shifted, leaving behind a stack of handwritten words that now belonged to the past.
Matt.
Matt, with eyes as blue as a warm sunny day's sky, was someone she could lose herself in. He was the boy she loved so deeply that if her heart were torn from her chest, his name would be etched there. Matthew, the only one she had ever loved before Luke.
During the summer of ’20, she came to the realization that she had developed a crush on her best friend. On the night he drove her home, she silently prayed for God to make her feelings for him disappear. It seemed absurd; this was Matt, her very own Matt, her dearest friend in the world, and she was in love with him.
As they both grew older, she began to perceive him in a new way. He underwent changes; growing out his hair became something she loved. His height increased too. Whenever she sees him, a permanent smile adorned his face, and she found herself deeply and irrevocably in love with him. Everything he did captivated her, particularly the moment he slept on her shoulder in the car. It was ridiculous how loudly her heart throbbed at that time.
"Do you think they'll mind if it's just the two of us, Matt?" she asked, settling into the passenger seat.
"Why? We've done this plenty of times before; they'll be okay," he reassured her, quieting her with a gentle shush as he started the car.
On the day they left for LA, tears streamed down her face, staining Nick's shirt. "We'll be back for Thanksgiving, you goof," he reassured her.
No matter if it was for Christmas or her birthday, she didn’t care but the fact that her best friends were leaving at that moment weighed heavily on her. "You’re moving to the other side of the country, and I’m heading to college," she sniffled, the airport surroundings continued to add to her gloom.
Chris, empathetic, offered her a comforting a hug. "The other side of the country is crazy,” he said. "You can visit us, you know."
Her response came with a hint of frustration, "I'll be in college, Chris."
With a warm smile, Chris reassured her, “You can visit us during breaks. We're just one flight away."
She gazed at Matt, noticing his pink cheeks. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll see each other again in no time," he smiled sadly at her. She wanted to believe Matt wholeheartedly, as she always did, but deep down, she knew that things would never be the same.
August 23, 2021
Dear Matt, I miss you all so much. Mom and Dad just dropped me off at college, and my roommate, Samantha seems nice. She's from San Diego. You don't think my Boston accent is interesting, do you? She keeps saying it is, but I don't think so. I hope you're having a blast over there. I know you are. I really wish you were here. I miss you the most. Massachusetts sucks without you guys.
September 15, 2021
Dear Matthew,
I already miss you. It's funny; we just spoke on the phone, and here I am writing you a letter already. You sounded really happy, which makes me happy too. By the way, I just realized I brought Nick's shirt with me and your white hoodie too!! I didn't mention it earlier because I thought you might want them back. Haha.
Anyway, I can't wait for Fall; maybe we can visit a pumpkin patch. I know how much you love those. I'm looking forward to seeing you and everyone. Homesickness is setting in, and I miss home, especially you. I miss you the most.
P.S. Samantha thinks Nate is cute, but I don't think she’s his type.
The days went by, and she found herself missing him even more. The calls and texts lessened, she became busier, and Matt was texting her when she was at class and would reply to her when she was face down on the bed, asleep.
She struggled to admit it, but the Instagram posts featuring their new friends tugged at her heartstrings with a sense of longing. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being left out, as if life was in full swing without her presence, playing out somewhere in Southern California with her friends and the love of her life, while she sat alone at UMass, eating a sandwich in the cafeteria. She yearned to turn back time to those carefree 9th-grade days, where she’d laugh at Chris’s antics in class or when Matt and Nick would whisk her away for impromptu beach adventures.
September 28, 2021
Dear Matt,
I saw a guy today who I thought looked just like you in an ice cream shop while I was out with my friend. I think I might be losing my mind. College is going pretty well so far. Alahna sent me a snap from early 2021 last night, and it was of you getting annoyed at Nick because he had the megaphone while we were in the drive-thru. It was so funny. I thought you looked great that night, but then again, when did you ever not? Congratulations on hitting 4 million!
Oh, and does Chris have a crush on Natalie? Never mind, I'll ask him about it later. I miss you guys so much.
Years had passed since she last laid eyes on the photos that adorned the walls of her childhood bedroom. The pink and white paint of the room served as a poignant reminder of the unrequited love that had once consumed her heart.
The photos of her, Matt, and their friends playing in the snow, or the selfies Nick snapped during sleepovers when Chris and Matt would crash on the floor of Nick's room - memories she cherished dearly. The thought of past Thanksgiving gatherings tugged at her heartstrings, recalling how he'd tower over her at the table, his tender touches igniting a warmth in her skin. She loved Matt deeply, more than words could express.
October 11, 2021
Dear Matt,
I got my hair cut today. It felt weird. I was going to take a selfie to send it to you, but I got shy. I hope you're doing well over there. I heard you guys went to a party; Nick won't stop talking about it, lol.
I can't believe it's been months since I last saw you in person, even though I saw you the other day through a video call, it's just not the same... Time is flying by.
Also, Chloe just passed her driving lessons. I wish you guys were here to see it. I know she texted Nick about it, but still, I miss you, Matthew. Anyway, I'll text you later. I have this professor who's very old, and he hates late students.
She did see them on Thanksgiving, and she couldn't forget how Matt looked. Those moments made her question how she could go on with her life, knowing he was completely oblivious to her deep feelings for him. She hated herself for falling in love with him. It was a realization that left her feeling stupid.
November 30, 2021
Dear Matthew,
You looked absolutely handsome at dinner last week. I couldn't help but wonder how LA gets to see you like that every day without turning the whole state upside down. You mentioned missing me, but I'm pretty sure I missed you even more. It's odd that Mom keeps talking about how much taller you've grown, because she should have expected that. Yesterday, when you brought up about meeting a girl, my heart sank. I believe you genuinely like her. I didn't want to ask more because I didn't want to be too obvious, but I think Chris saw my smile disappear. He was kind enough not to ask about it though so it’s all good.
Why do I still miss you even when you're sleeping right beside me on the couch? It's as if you're so far away.
It was early August 2022 when she paid them a visit in California for their birthday. She could recall every detail – the weather, the ride from the airport, and the woman in his arms.
She had faced numerous challenges before, like the time she had to carry Samantha, who was far too drunk for her own good, or when Chris begged her to retrieve his backpack in subzero temperatures. However, this situation felt entirely different. As the doors swung open, she yearned to be anywhere but there – perhaps back in her small dorm room in Boston.
From within, she could hear the voices and music, the uproar of celebration and delight. Outside, the soft hum of Los Angeles traffic persisted as cars rushed by. Yet, above all else, she swore she could hear the unrelenting rhythm of her own heartbeat, as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded in that moment.
The woman was already there, wearing a warm smile, eagerly awaiting her boyfriend Matt's arrival. She couldn't help but admire Matt's taste, as in that moment, she found the woman to be stunning. With her dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a height of 5'3, she gave off an endearing aura that she effortlessly carried with her. The woman greeted everyone with an open-hearted smile, embracing her as if they were long-lost friends reuniting after a decade apart.
"Hi! It's so great to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," the woman's voice was flawless, yet there was a hollow feeling within her. She genuinely liked the woman and had an inkling that she would become a significant presence in their lives for quite some time to come.
Her gaze fixed on Matt, a mixture of confusion and hurt in her eyes. How was it possible that he hadn't disclosed that he had a girlfriend? Those nights when he would call her, those were the very nights she longed to be in his arms, not realizing they had already been spent with someone else.
That night was etched in her memory, a vivid recollection of the moment she had realized it was impossible for her to remain friends with him. She couldn't maintain their friendship, not while she was overwhelmed with sadness while he was immersed in happiness.
December 6, 2021
Dear Matt,
Today, I spent the day baking cookies with Haley but the real takeaway is being back in Boston and just one car ride away from you.
Weird, Nick brought up the name of the girl you're talking to, and it took me by surprise a little because you never mentioned her to me. I could sense Chris was giving me the stare, like he knows something, but that's just Chris, right?
It was a scene she had seen countless times before, both in movies and in real life – the clichéd tale of falling in love with your best friend and the inevitable heartbreak that followed.
There he sat, a picture of handsomeness in the midst of the kitchen, so immersed in what he's doing that he only noticed her staring when he looked up and playfully asked, "Any boys I should know about?" She chuckled, finding Matt's question entirely characteristic of his random sense of humor.
"No one, Matt," she replied, rolling her eyes with a smile. Inside, she thought, "It's only you. It was only ever you."
"I find that hard to believe," he said, casting a shy glance her way, his smile never wavering.
She pressed, "And why is that?"
"Because you're..." he started, his voice trailing off, leaving the unspoken feelings hanging in the air between them.
"…because you're amazing. You're good at baking cookies and-"
"Please, shut the fuck up, Matthew," she blushed, looking away.
"It's true! Ask Chris. He thinks you have a college boyfriend you’re not telling us about," he defended himself.
"Well, Chris is stupid," a small frown appeared on her face.
"Hey, I heard that!" She looked toward the boy sitting on the couch in the living room. "Shut up, Chris, Nick is sleeping."
She was standing over the kitchen counter, finishing the gifts she had prepared for her cousins and parents. She rolled her eyes, feeling a bit exasperated. "You're all so dramatic; I'm trying to do something here, fucks sake.”
"Let me help you with that. I'm almost done with this," Matt offered, standing beside her. His proximity alone nearly sent her into a frenzy.
He was incredibly touchy with her, and it only added to the intimacy of their connection. His frequent and intimate touches with her left her in a state of confusion. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was normal for best friends to share such physically intimate moments like this.
"You're terrible at this," he chuckled.
"Whatever Matt," she grumbled, continuing to tape the wrapper.
He leaned even closer, almost putting his entire weight on her. "Matt, you’re so annoying! Get off me," she exclaimed.
Years later, she learned that Chris had glanced at them, shaking his head in bemusement, and thinking about how oblivious his brother Matt was to her feelings. Chris couldn’t help but realize how deeply in love she was with his brother, even if she had never voiced it. She didn’t need to, Chris thought.
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August 2022
She felt stuck in place. In that moment, she felt like time had frozen. Her feet glued to the ground.
The realization hit her like a ton of bricks - he had a girlfriend, all this time, and no one had told her. It was a profound sense of betrayal and feeling forgotten, it didn't matter that their relationship is just starting, she had loved Matt for years!
It was as if she wasn't worthy of knowing this crucial piece of information about the person she had secretly loved for so long, even though he didn't know he was the love of her life. The waves of emotion threatened to make her sick, but she managed to maintain her composure.
Chris remained by her side throughout the entire party, his friendly nudges and conversation attempts providing a comforting presence. "You know, I still can't believe you're here," he remarked, genuine surprise in his voice. "It's only been a couple of months, right?"
"Only a couple of months, Chris," she confirmed, her gaze fixed on her drink.
"I missed you so much. We all did. It felt like forever since the last time I saw you," Chris continued, offering a playful smile.
She managed a smile in response, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She kept her thoughts to herself, silently yearning for the familiar comforts of Boston, even though it no longer felt like home. In truth, nothing felt like home as long as Matt was in the arms of another. Chris could see through her facade. He understood the reason behind her dull mood, realizing it was linked to the presence of two specific individuals in the room. However, he respected her feelings enough not to confront her about it here and now, choosing to let her navigate her emotions in her own time
The days seemed to stretch on, with summer taking hold. Matt's girlfriend had flown back home to Florida, they were back to their old routine, but her heart couldn’t forget the feelings she had buried deep within.
They drove her to their favorite restaurants and shops in L.A., but the nagging ache in her heart persisted. With her pretending to enjoy the days while ignoring the sinking feeling that gnawed at her treacherous heart, she tried to be as cheerful as possible before her return to the East Coast.
Until one particular car ride with Nick and Chris temporarily absent and inside Ralph's, she couldn't keep her feelings bottled up any longer and decided to have a heart-to-heart with Matt. It was a brief respite from the facade of happiness she had been trying to maintain.
"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It all happened so fast," he said, his eyes pleading for her to meet his gaze.
She cut him off, "It doesn't matter, Matt. I guess I just felt really sad that you didn't tell me. I'm your best friend, for heaven's sake." She fought back the urge to cry, keeping her emotions expertly concealed.
"I'm sorry, okay? It all happened in a whirlwind, and suddenly, you were on a flight from Boston to L.A.…," he trailed off. "Plus, I wanted it to be a surprise." He sheepishly smiled.
"God, Matt," she whispered, genuinely taken aback by the revelation.
She continued, "It's okay, it's all in the past now. I was surprised, no doubt."
She smiled, rolled her eyes, and forced a lighter tone into her voice. "So, tell me about her. Where did you guys meet?"
He chuckled, sensing that things were somewhat getting back to normal, but it was never quite the same, she thought to herself.
The night before she left for Boston, they drove and explored the city once more, just the two of them. Chris seemed too tired to join, and Nick had editing work to do.
"I wanted to take you here. It's one of the best viewpoints in L.A.," Matt explained, his excitement palpable.
"What, Griffith Park?" she replied, laughing. "You mean the spot from GTA, right?"
"Yeah, exactly. We used to play that game, remember?" he smiled down at her, feeling nostalgic.
How could she forget?
After several minutes of driving, Matt parked the car, and a heavy silence hung between them, no one seemingly wanted to step out. "Thanks for spending your summer here. It means a lot... That you're here," he expressed, looking at her with his blue eyes that shone through the Los Angeles darkness, seemingly even brighter than the city lights.
"Of course, anything for you guys," she replied, breaking their eye contact, and shifting her gaze to the dashboard in front of her. How could he do this to her? How could he not know? She wished she could freeze this moment in time, his face looking so soft in the gentle glow of the traffic lights. His tired eyes and tousled hair that had always made her heart leap and now, she felt like she could cry right there; she loved him so much and he didn’t know. She also wished she could tuck this memory away in the pockets of her thrifted yellow dress.
Tonight felt different, marking the end of summer, and they were both a year older. They weren't 19 anymore, and yet, she remained deeply in love with him.
~
Nicolas Sturniolo was a smart man, and his brothers secretly admired him for it, even if they would never openly admit it. Of course, he noticed the lingering glances she directed at Matt but never said anything. Nick believed that Matt had informed her about his girlfriend months before she arrived in LA but was shocked upon learning that his brother didn't. That explained the sudden change of mood he'd seen with her at the party.
The older brother had always had an inkling about it since they were young, ever since Matt hadn't asked her to prom. He remembered how she had waited for Matt to notice her new hairstyle, and when Matt already did compliment her, Nick swore he saw her smile so big it could light up the entire school that day. Nick thought his brother Chris was dense, but Matt was on a different level.
He had brought up the subject with Matt once, while they were in line at TSA, just before a flight to California, a mere 7-hour journey away. "You do realize she's in love with you, right?"
"What?" Matt's brows furrowed; genuine confusion etched on his face.
"Come on, Matt. We all know she's had a crush on you since high school," Nick exclaimed, adjusting his backpack.
"That's not true, Nick," Matt responded, shaking his head in disbelief. He found the idea ridiculous.
"Whatever, Matt. You guys are both stupid. I see the way you look at her, and I see how she looks at you. What's holding you back?" Nick shrugged.
"Because we're just friends, Nick? Can't two people of the opposite sex be friends?" Matt retorted, feeling exasperated.
"Okay, Matt, we get it," Chris chimed in, adding his two cents. "We're just telling you what we see."
As Nick appeared impatient and tired of the conversation, and Chris pretending to not care, Matt pushed the thought to the back of his mind.
December 18, 2021
The sight of you on my porch brought me immense happiness. Dad was yelling, which woke me up, and he said you guys were at the front door. Honestly, that pie was incredible; I couldn't believe you three made it.
I wanted to thank you for joining me today. I understand you're not a fan of walking in the snow, but I loved every moment of it.
Christmas is just around the corner, and it's only a matter of days now.
I often wonder if you notice how frequently I steal glances at you whenever I have the chance.
As I sit here writing this, I’m looking at the Christmas gift I got you. It's a necklace. It might seem cliché, but I genuinely hope it brings a smile to your face whenever you see it.
~
She held onto the memory of that day, those tense days after learning he had a girlfriend and before the car confrontation.
"Are you planning to sleep on the couch?" Matt asked.
"I am," she stubbornly insisted.
"Come on, you're our guest; you can sleep in my bed," Chris mumbled with a mouthful of chips.
"And have you sleep here on the couch? No way, Chris," she replied firmly.
Nick chuckled, watching Matt's obliviousness. How could his brother not realize that she was upset with him?
"Alright, then we'll both sleep in my bed," Chris suggested, glancing at Matt for his reaction.
Matt was puzzled. They always shared his bed, so what was the issue now?
Snatching the blanket Nick had given her, she hurried downstairs to reach Chris's room.
Matt's jaw hung open. "What did I do?" he mumbled, frowning at his brothers.
Nick shook his head, grinning. "I'm off to bed. Matt, quit being stupid."
"What?" Matt looked to Chris for answers. Chris shrugged, "I guess she just wanted to sleep in my bed tonight, Matt."
"But-"
"Goodnight, Maaaatt," Chris sang, leaving Matt bewildered and hurt.
"But she always sleeps with me," he whispered to himself, still trying to make sense of the unexpected change.
Lying in Chris's bed that night, she silently yearned for divine intervention. Avoiding eye contact with Matt as she passed by him on her way downstairs, she couldn't ignore the confusion and hurt etched across his face. Deep down, she desperately wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that things were alright.
It was unusual for her to sleep in Chris's bed, given that she always slept in Matt's, so the sudden change had caught Matt off guard. She was aware of it, but at that moment, her anger towards him outweighed her care.
Earlier that day, Madi had teased her about her apparent coldness toward Matt when they were getting tacos in Melrose. It seemed that everyone had noticed her subtle avoidance of his touches and comments, leading to hushed discussions among their friends.
She was also certain that Chris was a light sleeper. He didn't snore, but he definitely woke easily.
"Couldn't sleep?" Chris whispered, turning to face her.
"Yeah, too much on my mind," she replied, exhaling wearily.
The stillness of the night, combined with their exhaustion, allowed for a comforting silence to settle between them. A beat passed, "Why don't you just tell him?" Chris suggested, his voice barely audible. She couldn't see her best friend, but she sensed the sadness in his gaze.
"Tell him what, Chris?" she deflected, shutting her eyes.
"You're not fooling anyone, you know? You might fool my stupid brother but you can’t fool me and Nick," he remarked, adjusting himself under the covers.
Silence descended once more, but this time, it felt oddly reassuring knowing that one of her closest friends was aware.
"It doesn't matter. He would shut me out."
"No, he won't. He genuinely cares about you, and you know it," Chris assured her. While Chris might not be privy to his brother Matt's true feelings, whether he reciprocated them or not, one thing was certain: Matt cared deeply for her, more than she could ever comprehend.
"It's also different now that he has a girlfriend. I don't think she'd appreciate me sharing a bed with her boyfriend. It's more about respect," she added.
Chris disregarded her attempt to change the subject and pressed on, "Matt loves you, bro. If he ever shuts you out for telling him how you feel, then he's an idiot. You have me and Nick by your side forever. If you never tell him, you'll never get the chance to express your feelings."
“You guys should talk.” He added.
"I don't think I'm ready, but I'll think about it," she replied, her exhaustion evident in her voice.
Chris nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He understood the weight of the emotions she was carrying.
"Of course, at your own pace."
"Chris?"
"Hm?"
"Thank you."
"Anything for you, kid."
In the quiet of that night, as dreams and sleep intertwined, she found solace in the knowledge that Chris, her closest friend, understood the depths of her emotions. It was a small source of comfort amid the uncertainty that had clouded her heart.
As they both drifted into slumber, she imagined a future where everything would fall into place, where she could openly express her feelings to the boy upstairs. In the warm embrace of their Los Angeles home, she held onto the hope that the friendship that she shared with Matt would weather these feelings she has for him.
January 10, 2022
Dear Matt,
I have to say, you can be pretty stubborn. I warned you not to visit me and bring me food because I’d probably end up puking it all out (eww), and now you’ve gone and caught the cold too. Now everyone’s infected!
 But you know what? You bringing me food made my heart leap, I’m pretty sure you know how to make me fall in love with you even more. Nick texted me earlier that he and Chris have lost their sense of taste because of Covid, but you seem to be fine already so you’re making them try different drinks.
I’m feeling a lot better now and I’ve tested negative for Covid, thankfully. Still, I’m dreading the day I go back to school. Ugh.
Alahna mentioned about wanting to visit you guys, but I know deep down she just wanted to see Chris. Haha.
Just so you know Matt, I love you. I think you probably know that already, but I wanted to say it anyway here.
She was certain that Matthew Sturniolo was going to be the death of her. The mischievous boy had cornered her against the kitchen counter, removing the chocolate residue that Nick had playfully smeared across her forehead. It was a sticky, gross mess, but Matt was attentively cleaning it up with a wet face towel. And there he stood, in all his splendid glory – tall and handsome. Nick and Chris's laughter in the background only intensified the fluttering of her heart.
"There, all gone," he confirmed, a warm smile gracing his features, the kind of smile that always had the power to weaken her knees.
"You're such an idiot, Nick," she scowled, avoiding Matt as she walked toward the center of the room.
"What? It kinda suits you," Nick replied, and the hearty laughter of Chris and Matt filled the room.
She flashed a playful smile. "Whatever. Are you guys ready to go?" she asked, her impatience showing.
The car ride proceeded as usual, with Matt behind the wheel and Chris in the passenger seat, en route to Chloe's house for a swim and to meet their other friends. The broken AUX meant the soft tunes of the radio filled the air, harmonizing with the breezy Boston weather.
"Matt, if you don't put me down, I'll kill you!" she screamed.
"Come on, it's not that serious," he laughed, making his way towards the pool.
"I don't care! Seriously, Matt, don't do thi-" But before she could finish her sentence, she found herself submerged in the pool.
"You're such an asshole," she grumbled, retaliating by splashing water at him. He chuckled and swam away.
A few feet away, Chris was engrossed in conversation with Nate about an Amazon package he had ordered, while Nick sat nearby, casually nodding and occasionally chiming in.
When she turned her attention back to Matt, he quickly splashed water on her face again. "Stop it. I mean it," her voice carried a trace of laughter.
"Okay, okay." Matt gazed at her for a moment, his smile fading.
"What?" she grumbled, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness under his gaze.
"Nothing. You're just really pretty," he said.
Moments like this only added to her confusion about where she stood in his life. Her heart skipped a beat, and she was momentarily taken aback, but she was swift to respond and hide her feelings. "Yeah, pretty annoyed at you," she said, pinching her nose to hide the forming blush.
Matt shook his head, a warm chuckle escaping his lips. He decided not to delve further into the matter. Why was he acting like this?
They lingered at the pool for a few more minutes. Matt's intimate touches making her melt, and his constant glances at her lips only added to the simmering heat of the Massachusetts summer.
The ride back home was interesting, she couldn't ignore the flutter of anticipation mixed with uncertainty that had settled in her heart. The day had been filled with subtle gestures and flirty remarks, leaving her wondering if their friendship was tiptoeing towards something more.
That night, when everyone had returned to the boys' home and a drowsy Matt lay beside her, she allowed herself to sleep soundly, knowing that something was undeniably changing between them.
February 3, 2022
Dear Matt,
I watched with Sam your new video. Chris mentioned about a little dinner you guys will have later, I’m so sad. I wish I was there. Anyway, Nick is Sam’s favorite. I couldn’t help but agree. Haha.
I know you’re busy with like stuff there and me too. My professors are killing me with these projects and assignments, also, I learned matcha helps with anxiety. I’ll have you taste it next time we see each other.
Also, you keep asking me why I’m sad, I didn’t think you would notice. How do I tell you, Matt, that the reason I’m sad is because I love you?
March 14, 2022
It has been so busy lately, oh my god. I lost my trusty pen because we moved dorms, but it’s all good now. I got so much work to do with finals coming up as well.
Anyway, I saw your tiktok with Nick today. You looked really cute with the Eeyore shirt, and I’m glad you’re still wearing that necklace I gave you last Christmas.
I miss you Matt. I’ll text you later when I’m done with class.
The car ride to IHOP proved to be quite intriguing, to say the least. Chris had evidently concocted a few surprises before their departure to California and before Spring break came to an end, forcing her to return to Morrissey Blvd.
Matt seemed unusually cheerful that day, expressing his desire to take her out, as well as everyone back home, for a little treat.
In that moment, it almost felt like things were back to the way they used to be. She occupied the passenger seat, engaged in a playful argument with Chris over control of the aux cord. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Matt, his amusement evident as he fought the urge to break into a broad smile.
As Nick and Chris hurried to enter the house after Matt had parked the car at their Somerville home, he prevented her from getting out. Matt fixed his gaze on her, a gentle smile dancing across his face, as he softly uttered, "I really missed you."
There he was again, stirring emotions within her, clouding her thoughts. "Me too," she responded shyly.
"Truth is, I wanted to spend the day with you, alone," he admitted, rolling his eyes playfully. "But I couldn't say no to them."
"That's okay."
A brief silence settled between them.
"What's on your mind, Matt?" She furrowed her brow, sensing that he had something he wanted to say something.
"Nothing. I'm just happy I'm home..." He trailed off, his voice carrying a hint of longing. "Seeing you, being here... with you."
Inside, she silently pleaded with him, "Don't do this to me, Matt. Don't say these things and expect me not to fall in love with you."
"Why? Has LA not been treating you well?" She pressed.
"No, no, LA's great," he replied, offering a smile before shifting his gaze towards their small garage at home.
"What is it?" she whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear.
"I really don't know," he confessed.
Meeting his gaze once more, she couldn't help but smile. "Okay, then tell me once you've figured it out." She chose to lighten the mood, knowing that he was dangerously close to unraveling her with those looks he kept giving her.
April 8, 2022
Dear Matt,
Today you asked me what I want.
to be with you, that’s all I want.
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September 2023
When Luke left for the San Diego, she looked around her room.
She gazed at the framed photo that hung beside her closet. In the picture, she and Matt were watching a movie, and slowly, they had leaned on each other. As they grew more comfortable, she had briefly considered adjusting her posture, but she couldn’t resist a sleepy Matt. The next thing she knew, his arms were wrapped around her, and they were nestled together, fast asleep. Neither of them had acknowledged it, but Nick had managed to sneakily capture a photo of them when he woke up at 4 a.m. to turn off the living room lights.
A bittersweet feeling loomed over her. She remembered the day all too well. With his mom waking them up for waffles and before things took a turn for the worst.
May 13, 2022
Hi Matt,
Only a few more months till I visit you guys in L.A. I’m kind of nervous but Chris assured me that everything would be fine.
I’m also excited to meet Madi, Nick said she’s nice, so I feel like we’ll get a long pretty well.
Everyone around them can see how much they love each other, from her mom and his mom to her dad, her sister, and even the entire Sturniolo family, including their grandmother. But a silent understanding prevailed; no one uttered a word about it. Perhaps they were all waiting for the day when Matt and her would finally act on their feelings. That's why when Luke entered the picture, it took everyone by surprise. Her mom, Elizabeth would drop hints about Matt’s brothers, mentioning that she saw their mom at the grocery store, and asks about Justin's new girlfriend, in which were all met with her silent nods. From behind her, her parents shared a knowing look.
Luke was the safe choice. He didn't make her feel like she had to beg for his love. He was dependable, polite to her parents, adored by her cousins, and fulfilled all the checkboxes of what she needed. He was unafraid of public displays of affection, and constantly tells that he loves her. Luke wasn't bothered by the story of her intimate friendship with Matt; he remained indifferent.
As time passed, the difference between Matt and Luke became more apparent. Luke, with his warmth and openness, brought stability and security to her life. Their relationship flowed smoothly, and the world seemed to accept them as a couple without question.
Yet, the blue-eyed boy who had once held her heart had an uncanny ability to infiltrate her thoughts. No matter how much she had tried to move on and embrace this new love, Matt remained an enigma. He was the unspoken part in her life, a book she couldn't close. She always wondered if he ever thought about her as she did about him.
It had been a few months since she had made the choice to be with Luke, months of happiness and contentment. But the heart has a way of keeping secrets, and hers held a special place for the blue-eyed boy in Los Angeles.
June 9, 2022
Dear Matt, two more months! God, I’m so over these classes, I swear. Samantha got really drunk two nights ago, it was so funny. I should’ve taken a video but whatever. Mom called me earlier today asking for my flight details, I guess she’s as excited as me.
July 16, 2022
Summer is finally here! I mean, it's been here for a while, but I'm looking forward to seeing all of you for your birthday next month. You better bring me to the thrift shops Nick was talking about the other day in the call.
August 17, 2022
I still can't quite believe you never told me about her. So, she was the girl Nick mentioned the last time you guys went home.
I couldn't help but notice the way you looked at me, and how I instinctively recoiled when she introduced herself. How did I not know? And why does she seem to know so much about me when I didn't even know her name?
Chris tried to console me that night, and I appreciated it. I also noticed how Nick was glancing at me, likely gauging my reaction to it all.
Matt, you don’t know what I’d give to stop being in love with you.
As the months passed, the girlfriend revelation of Matt was soon forgotten. She became increasingly immersed in college life. While Matt would text her from time to time and they would occasionally have video calls with Nick, she learned to accept the way things were. She had to make a conscious effort to push aside the memory of that night in Griffith Park when they had laughed and hugged, with her secretly gazing at his face and him giving her that look she adored. She came to the realization that if this was how things were going to be, she would be happy for him, even if it meant breaking her own heart. She contemplated Chris's words, but they didn't matter; what mattered was that Matthew was happy, and that's all she cared about. It seemed like everyone had forgotten about it too.
Matt was a private person, subtly posting little reminders of his girlfriend, but it didn't escape her notice how much it hurt her heart.
The longer she suppresses her emotions, the easier it seems, she believes. Suddenly, seven months have passed since that fateful night in LA, and March ‘23 is approaching steadily. Deep down, she's aware that she hasn't been honest with herself throughout this entire period, but she resigns herself to the reality of the situation. It is what it is, and she's compelled to carry on, masking her true feelings.
September 20, 2022
Dear Matt,
It's been a month since that night in LA, and Chris has never brought up our conversation again. I trust him. Life has felt quite mundane lately. I still have my moments, but I'm doing okay. I'm trying my best not to dwell on it too much. I suppose I felt betrayed, you know?
Yesterday, Chloe and Alahna came to visit, and we ate burgers. When I finally admitted my feelings to Alahna, I broke down. She told me she had always known I was in love with you, and with Chloe agreeing, both of them sharing the same sentiments, it left me wondering just how oblivious you can be.
October 5, 2022
Dear Matt,
I don’t know why you look at me that way, as though you could genuinely love me, even though deep down, I know you don't, and I know you won't.
Nick mentioned your plans for a trip to Florida to visit her. I tried to convince myself that it wouldn't hurt, but my own curiosity led me to check her Instagram. It was a mistake. I stumbled upon a photo of you two kissing on the beach, and I felt like such a fool for thinking this was something I could handle. I ended up in tears, obviously, poured my heart out to Samantha. I desperately wanted to forget, to stop these feelings.
I truly did try not to love you.
I really did.
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November 3, 2022
"You know I hate these types of parties," she grumbled. "Do I even look good?"
"Girl, please, you look good every day," Madi assured her.
The night was still young, and everyone was on their way to this party the boys had been invited to. Chris was practically bouncing in the front of the car, and Matt, always effortlessly handsome, drove with calm and cool confidence.
Nick tried to comfort her. "You'll be fine. They're actually nice."
But she tuned out Nick's words as they entered the venue. The booming music only heightened her nervousness amid the lively crowd.
When Nick, Madi, and Chris entered the party, she found herself walking closely beside Matt. He was well aware of her uneasiness at these kinds of gatherings. With a gentle touch on her lower back, Matt guided her towards a group of people. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, his face mere inches from hers, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire party. "You look really good tonight. Don't worry too much. I'm here."
A thought crossed her mind – he's such a flirt without even realizing it.
Under the party's red lights, his lips looked incredibly inviting. If only he didn't have a girlfriend living across the country, she might have kissed him. Of course, that's only if he wanted to kiss her too.
She sighed, as the party continued to buzz around them and the night progressed, surprisingly, she found herself genuinely enjoying the evening, engaging in conversations with Madi. However, she couldn't help but notice that Matt kept stealing glances at her. Fueled by newfound confidence, she walked up to him. "Hey, stranger," he greeted her with a smile, her savoring the sight of that familiar grin.
She could feel his warmth. "Shut up, Matthew. I'm so hot right now; you guys weren't kidding about Los Angeles being intense."
"You are hot, sweetheart."
"Yeah, this leather jacket Madi lent me—"
"No, I don't mean your outfit."
Before she knew it, their faces were inches apart, his eyes locked onto her lips. This was it, she thought. He was going to kiss her. After all those years of pining for him, the past didn't matter anymore. What mattered was now.
He was driving her crazy. And then it happened – he kissed her, and the world stopped. Their lips met in a passionate, consuming kiss. Sure, she had kissed boys in high school, but this was different. This was Matt. She could feel his hands on her neck and waist, his lips following hers when she needed to breathe. This was how it was supposed to be, she thought, her lips on Matt's. Her best friend, the boy she had loved since they were 18, kissing her beneath the Los Angeles night sky. As their lips remained locked in a passionate kiss, she felt an electric charge surge through her. All the inhibitions, the uncertainties, and the fear of what might follow were momentarily forgotten. All that mattered in that heart-pounding moment was the taste of Matthew Sturniolo on her lips, a forbidden but intoxicating sensation she had yearned for since they were teenagers.
“Five years of friendship flushed down the drain just so I could know what Matthew Sturniolo tastes like.” (Ifykyk. This is one of my favorite lines from a book!!)
When their lips brushed again, a soft moan threatened to escape her swollen lips, and her head began to swim with desire.
"Oh my god," she muttered senselessly, her mouth still locked with Matt's.
His touches ignited a fire within her, the heat of his mouth overwhelming her senses.
"Fuck," he breathed, pulling away from her and running his hands through his unruly hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have done that."
Her stomach sank as embarrassment washed over her. She didn't speak for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. "I'm sorry."
"No, I—" He choked on his words. Horror painted his expression as he struggled to make eye contact with her. "I shouldn't be kissing you."
His internal conflict was palpable, and the emotions on his face left her feeling utterly perplexed. They were both breathless, caught in a state of shock. She was about to cry when Chris walked in with a cup full of soda.
"Are you guys ready to go? Nick's about to beat a bitch up-" Chris asked laughing, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired. "What happened, Matt?"
A concerned look began to appear on Chris’ face as he assessed the aftermath of the situation.
"Just let it go, Chris," Matt muttered, looking at the ground.
"Let's go," she insisted, taking quick strides past Chris to find Nick and Madi, eager to get away from the confusing situation and head back home. Meanwhile, Chris tried once more, his voice hushed as he approached his brother. "What happened, Matt?" Seeing Matt in such a shocked state had him deeply concerned and worried about his brother.
November 29, 2022
I never should have visited again and allowed you to kiss me the way you did because I couldn't stop thinking about it afterward. The pure shock and regret in your eyes were enough to shatter me into pieces. We never discussed it when we got back to your house. Chris, with his knowing glances, probably figured it out, and I know you told him but thankfully, he didn't press the issue. The morning after was just as uneasy; you didn't come out from your room until 4 pm. Nick was concerned, but I was too nervous to say anything, feeling like a colossal mistake that had happened.
But I knew, when you looked at me to say goodbye at the airport, that I was hoping it meant even a fraction as much to you as it did to me.
We didn't speak for two weeks following that day, but today you sent me a text saying you were sorry. Our conversation resumed, but neither of us mentioned it again. I didn't ask if you had told her; that was none of my business.
You have to understand, Matt, that before you kissed me, I was always yours, if only you had looked closely enough to see it.
Christopher Sturniolo had never appeared shocked in his entire life. It was as if the heavens had granted him this shocking revelation.
Nick's voice echoed, "Okay, what the hell happened between you two at that party? You've been moping for days, and you didn't even take out the trash when I asked you to!"
"We kissed!" Matt lashed out at Nick. “Happy now, Nick?”
"Oh, shit. This is good. I mean no, this is bad, you have a girlfriend," Chris winced.
Matt's thoughts raced to Florida. His girlfriend’s going to be furious.
"I know," he muttered, feeling a headache coming on.
Days had passed since they dropped her off at the airport and her departure making Matt more confused as ever.
He groaned, unable to believe he had allowed that situation to unfold. He had also been ignoring her.
"Get your shit together, Matt. Seriously, you can't just kiss her and pretend it didn't happen!" Nick's frustration was too intense for Matt's liking.
"This is bad, Matt," Madi's voice sounded small as she contemplated the situation, her thoughts divided between the girl in Florida and the other one in Boston. This was undoubtedly going to be a messy affair, she thought.
Their comments offered no solace to Matt's torn heart, a whirlwind of suppressed feelings from his teenage years. He didn't genuinely regret the kiss, but he had a girlfriend, someone good who trusted him, and he had shattered that trust by succumbing to his feelings for his best friend.
"Okay, okay, Matt, breathe," Chris tried to comfort his brother.
"I can't do this," Matt said, standing up in frustration. "Let's not talk about this again. It's too much."
He stormed off and slammed his bedroom door shut, leaving Nick, Chris, and Madi in stunned silence.
"I don't understand why he just won't admit that she's always been it for him?" Madi questioned, her gaze shifting between the two brothers.
"Because he's an idiot, Madi," Nick replied, his annoyance evident in his tone.
The situation was complicated, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing with fire. His relationship with his girlfriend was hanging by a thread, and the unspoken tension with his best friend was driving him to the brink of frustration.
Matt knew he had to make a choice, a decision that could alter the course of his life. The pain of knowing he had hurt someone he cared about and the fear of losing the person who had been his confidant for years weighed heavily on him.
He was at a crossroads, and there was no easy path to take. He couldn't escape the truth, unsure of where his heart truly belonged.
December 20, 2022
Dear Matt,
It seems like things have returned to normal. Nick has stopped bombarding me with constant texts, asking if I'm okay, and Chris's late-night calls have ceased. I heard you broke up with her, I know you'd never share all the gritty details with me, but it probably was for the best. I can't help but feel like a terrible person for playing a role in your relationship's downfall. Alahna said it wasn’t my fault, but I feel like she’s just saying that, you know? I can't shake this feeling, I keep thinking I wasn't worth the risk. But then, you had a girlfriend at the time, so I understood. You'll have to forgive me, because I've never stopped thinking about that night since you kissed me.No one will ever be able to knock the wind out of me again. Not like that, not like you, Matthew.
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January 2023
Matt clung to the familiar comforts of their Boston home, the very thought of remaining in the same bed that had cradled him in warmth and surrounded by the cherished memories of his childhood with his brothers offered solace to his melancholic heart.
Despite the fact that it was only the second week of January, the jarring noise of Nick's suitcase scraping against the floor downstairs served as an unwelcome reminder of the imminent reality awaiting him in just two days.
He yearned for the days before their move to California when life was different. He pined for the crisp, cold embrace of winter and the warm, welcoming smile she had for him whenever she would visit. Without a doubt, summer was his least favorite season.
Three days ago was her birthday, yet she was still in Nantucket, enjoying a vacation with her family. She texted him just two hours ago, explaining that she would be busy exploring the place with her aunt.
He had also gifted her a necklace, a token of their shared memories, as she had once given him last Christmas ago. The necklace was a heart-shaped silver pendant, a symbolic representation of his heart. He had chosen it with such devotion that Chris had teased him, saying he was like choosing an engagement ring. Matt silently agreed, but the truth was, he couldn't forget that night, the kiss they had shared, and how she had looked painfully beautiful beneath the soft, dim lights of the party.
His mom offered a comforting hug upon their arrival from the airport; Nick had probably told her over the phone about what had happened last November. As he looked around, everything had changed, yet he always felt the same.
He noticed it, as did everyone else, when Alahna and Nate visited; she didn't come. She was distant, and he couldn't help but feel guilty. It was all his fault. He had kissed her and pretended it didn't happen, only offering a sorry that didn't even comfort his own heart. Matt couldn't help but recall the conversations he had with his brothers late at night, in the car, about her being in love with him. Had he been so foolish not to notice the longing glances she directed his way?
It was four days after Christmas when he finally got up and entered Chris's room, the brightly lit space giving him a headache.
He found his brother scrolling through his phone, stress evident on Matt's face.
"Wow, you look like shit," Chris said, looking up. "What's going on? Nate has been bugging us to go to his house. Apparently..."
"Chris," Matt whispered, frustrated.
Chris leaned in, his concern evident in his eyes. "What's eating at you, Matt?" Matt had now settled on his bed, his legs touching Chris's sock-covered feet.
Matt sighed heavily, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "It's her. Something's not right, and I can't ignore it anymore. I kissed her, and then I acted like it never happened. I gave her this weak apology that didn't even begin to cover it. Now she's distant, and I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault."
Chris listened attentively, his brows furrowing with understanding. "You've been worried about this for a while, huh?"
Matt nodded, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "Yeah. I mean, remember we've had late-night talks about her having feelings for me?  And now, I can't help but wonder if I've been too blind to see it. Maybe I've hurt her more than I realized."
Chris put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Look, you can't change the past, but you can talk to her, try to understand how she feels. Maybe it's not as bad as you think."
A beat passed as Matt solemnly gazed at his brother.
"I think I'm in love with her, Chris. Nick was right. I am in love with her," Matt said, eyes heavy from lack of sleep.
With Matt's confession hanging heavily in the air, Chris finally broke his silence. He leaned forward, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Congrats Matt, you're the last one to know," he said. "We've known for a long time that you felt this way."
Matt sat up, eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"
Chris nodded. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious, the way you'd light up every time she walked into the room. Mom mentioned before that you guys are two peas in a pod. She said it was only a matter of time before you realized she had always been here."
Matt sighed, unsure of himself. "I have no idea what to do, Chris. I'm just so scared of messing everything up."
"Well, technically you already did, idiot," Chris grinned sheepishly. “Just tell her how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"
January 19, 2023
Chris was being weird, big time. He kept asking if I have talked to you. We talk every day, don’t we? Does he not know that?
Anyway, Chris being Chris, I guess.
You wanted me to visit for Spring break again, but I don’t think I can, but I’ll see you when you fly for Nate’s birthday in June. I cannot wait.
You seemed different these days, Matt.
As days turned into weeks, Matt struggled with his emotions in silence. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her and making things awkward between them. His ex-girlfriend didn't handle his confession well. She said had expected it and firmly told him not to contact her again.
This situation took a toll on Matt because he never intended for things to become so complicated. He was willing to do anything to prevent it.
Realizing he was in love with his best friend left a bittersweet feeling in his heart. He had been fooling himself all these time with him ignoring the intimate moments they shared and him being clueless as to why she reacted the way she did when she found out he had a girlfriend or when he kissed her.
He wanted nothing more than to fly to the East Coast just to see her, but he felt like it wasn't the right time, especially with college going on.
Matt appreciated the updates from her about school and life, but he can't help but feel things have changed in the air between them especially when she turned down the suggestion of her visiting again for the upcoming spring break. Matt understood and he knows that she too, was processing her own feelings just as he was.
Chris, talkative and ever supportive, insisted that she had always loved Matt too, with Nick joining in on the teasing, he couldn't help but feel hopeful. All of his loved ones reassuring him that things had always been this way. Two peas in a pod.
His Mom also called the other day after Nick had shared the details with her. “Oh, honey, we’ve always known,” her sweet voice comforting Matt. “Don’t worry about a thing; I’m certain she has loved you since the day she laid eyes on you.”
February 14, 2023
Dear Matt,
Samantha teased me today about not having a Valentine's date, but I told her I didn't need one. Anyway, seeing all the couples around campus makes me miss you even more and I know I might sound negative but it's a bit overwhelming.
I remember 2 valentines ago when you made me that pink cupcake with a heart on it. You were so excited to give it to me that you had a little argument with Nick in the car because he was taking too long to get ready, and you couldn't wait for me to see it. I also remember that rainy Valentine's Day when you stopped by my house just to give me the flowers you had bought earlier that day. The soft look on your face, the sly smile and damp hair was enough to make my knees weak. I also remember how Chris snickered from the passenger seat when you said the flowers reminded you of me. I miss you so much Matt. I wish you could have been here with me today, but you're in Palm Springs having a blast.
It's already February, Matt and I don't know how many more seasons I'll spend loving you.
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February 14, 2019
"Hurry up, you idiot. Holy shit, I've been sitting here in the car for 20 minutes, and you're still not ready," Matt complained, clearly annoyed.
"Wow, Matt, what's gotten into you? Sorry, holy fuck," Nick responded, taken aback by his brother's sudden outburst.
Chris chimed in; his teasing tone evident as he laughed. "Calm down, Matt, I'm sure she'll understand if we're a little late."
"Shut up, Chris, it's not that. It's just the fact that Nick always does this," Matt retorted, starting the car.
"Is this what this is about? You being excited to give her your cupcake?" Nick teased, making a face at Chris and smirking.
"You're stupid, Nick." Matt grumbled, proceeding to drive down the familiar road to her house, a route he had taken many times before.
February 14, 2020
"Chris, come on, wake up!" Matt's voice boomed through his brother's room. It was 3 pm in the afternoon, and Nick had already been pestering them to go out. "I'm up, please get out of my face, Matt. I'll kill you," Chris grumbled sleepily.
With Chris in his usual grumpy state and Nick being overly excited, Matt found himself stopping by a nearby flower shop in Somerville. As he stood in front of the various types of flowers, his focused remained on a bouquet of tulips. He had heard from their mom the other day how exceptionally pretty tulips were.
Unbeknownst to Matt, Chris had slipped out of the car to join him. "You're getting flowers for her?" Chris asked, his tone laced with teasing.
"Yeah," Matt replied with a nonchalant shrug.
"Huh," Chris remarked, flashing a smile at the elderly woman behind the counter before turning his gaze back to his brother. "Why?"
"Because" Matt rolled his eyes, "why not?"
"Fair enough, geez, I'm just curious."
"Do you think she'll like tulips?"
Chris grinned and gave his brother an incredulous look, as if he found Matt's question amusingly strange. "She'll absolutely love them, Matt."
"Great," Matt said, clapping his hands together. "I'll get it," he cheerfully declared, already making his way toward the old woman.
With his usual teasing, Chris added, "Why don't you pick up some chocolates and write her a love letter too while you're at it?" He couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle.
"Shut up, Chris," Matt said dismissively.
As the rain began to pour, Chris watched his brother buy the flowers and wondered how unaware Matt can be with his own feelings.
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March 2023
It was the week of Samantha's birthday, and she found herself contemplating on going. She didn't want to come across as a buzzkill for considering not attending, but the truth was, she often found immense joy in staying in on Friday nights. However, there were moments when she felt sad while lying in bed, especially upon hearing from Madi that all of them was heading to a party. Her thoughts would drift to Matt, wondering how he was doing or if he met someone. She tried to push the thoughts away still.
Matt would text her late at night updating her that he was already home, and she would read his messages in the morning. She hated how different their lives now were, with her being in college and him having the time of his life in California.
Sadness washed over her again when she remembered the kiss, they had shared last year. It saddened her to think that it might not have meant as much to Matt as it did to her, but it felt too late to bring it up now. He had apologized, and she had told him to forget about it.
With a change of heart, she confirmed to Samantha that she would indeed attend her birthday celebration. It was time to step out and have some fun, she thought. If Matt could do it, so could she.
The backyard of the Airbnb is transformed with colorful decorations and fairy lights are strung along the trees. The little bonfire in the center, surrounded by Samantha's friends chatting and laughing made her anxious, there is a lot more people than she thought.
She spotted Samantha and approached her cheerfully. "Samantha! Happy birthday!"
"Oh my gosh, you're here! I've been waiting for you. I'm so glad you made it."
"Me too," she replied, enveloping the curly-haired birthday girl in a warm embrace.
"Please, enjoy yourself tonight, alright? We have drinks and food in the kitchen, and I think Lorraine is around here somewhere," Samantha mentioned.
"Yeah, of course. You don't need to worry about me. I'll have a great time," she reassured her. "Go ahead and mingle."
"Alright, I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Samantha planted a peck on her cheek and continued welcoming other guests.
When she surveyed the crowd, she mentally reminded herself to grab a drink to avoid just standing there awkwardly. The party was in full swing, and despite her nagging desire to be in her cozy bed, she was determined to have a great time.
"Hey girl, how are you? I didn't see you come in. Have you seen Sam yet?" Lorraine greeted her with a warm hug, while Hannah waved.
"Hi, Lor, I'm good. And yeah, I just did. I just got here too so," she replied.
"That's great. You didn't get lost, did you?" Lorraine said with a playful grin.
She chuckled, “No."
Lorraine is Samantha's best friend from high school, she has long black hair, sharp eyes, and legs for days.
"Do you drink?" Lorraine asked, as Hannah busied herself mixing drinks at the counter.
"Uh, sometimes," she admitted, although deep down, she wasn't really fond of alcohol but tonight was different, though. She was feeling bold and what's a little alcohol after a rough week?
"We've got plenty here—tequila, beer, vodka, and all that jazz."
"I'll take a beer, please," she decided, opting for a more casual choice.
As the night wore, she took small sips of her drink and appreciated the light-hearted conversations with Lorraine and Hannah, which kept her from constantly checking her phone. Two hours ago, Matt sent her a text about whatever, but she ignored it. Truth is, she still feels a little hurt and awkward with him because of everything that has happened. Just for the night, she allowed herself to clear her mind of thoughts about the blue-eyed boy in California.
"I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back," she informed the couple, receiving only nods in response.
Aware of the dangers of drink spiking, she was cautious and brought her beer with her.
The hallways were narrow, and she wondered how many people had made out in these halls. There were many rooms too and photo frames with inspiring quotes that adorned the walls. Her trip to the bathroom was going fine until she bumped into a guy.
“I'm so sorry," she apologized frantically, searching for the green tissue pack in her little bag while setting the glass of beer on a nearby table. Her white top was now stained with liquor, which was just great. The embarrassment of the situation was overwhelming, leaving her unable to think straight.
"No worries," The guy chuckled, clearly taken aback by the unexpected encounter. "I should've been more careful."
She handed him the tissues, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "That was so embarrassing. I'm truly sorry," she said with a sheepish smile.
"Don't worry about it. It’ll dry," he replied with a reassuring smile.
“"I'm really sorry," she winced as she saw him examining his now alcohol-soaked shirt.
"It's okay," he smiled softly, causing her cheeks to turn pink. When he noticed her freezing in embarrassment, he spoke up again, "Hey, apology accepted. Please don't worry about it. I can just wipe this off, and I'll be fine."
She nodded and whispered, "I'm so embarrassed."
"Really, I'm over it now. Besides, it's my fault for not looking. You got drenched too," he chuckled, glancing at her blouse.
"Yeah, don't worry about me. It's not as bad as yours. Can I at least help you with that?" she offered.
"What? Help me wipe this beer off? Nah, I'm good. You go do your thing," he dismissed her with another friendly smile.
Feeling somewhat defeated, she simply nodded and said, "Alright."
In the bathroom, she found herself shaking her head in embarrassment while trying to wash off the small beer stain on her top. The night is not going well, and she was starting to regret not staying home. Why did embarrassing situations always seem to find her at parties?
After a few minutes of recovery and self-reflection, she returned to where Lorraine and Hannah were. But before she could reach the couple, she spotted the guy she had bumped into earlier. Hannah was chatting with him and giggling, while Lorraine wore an amused expression that made her feel even more self-conscious. Great, he knew them and had definitely shared the incident with them.
Hannah noticed her approaching and said, "Oh, I see you've already met our friend, Luke!"
The mischievous glint in Hannah's eyes confirmed that he had indeed told what had happened.
"Yeah," she replied shyly, smiling. "I think he has already told you how we met."
Luke laughed while Lorraine snickered. "Don't worry, he's not upset with you. In fact, he thinks you're cute, right Luke?"
"Oh..."
"Ignore Lorraine. Nice to meet you," he said, flashing her a warm smile and offered his hand. She couldn't help but notice the dimples in his cheeks or how perfectly curled his hair was.
"You too," she replied with a smile, shaking his hand, feeling her embarrassment vanish little by little.
Matthew Sturniolo was confused once again for the millionth time in his life, and his brothers found it funny.
Just five minutes ago, Nick mentioned she was at a party. Matt's head shot up upon hearing what his brother said.
"So, that's why she wasn't replying," Matt said, fingers fast on opening Instagram. "She didn't mention about going to a party."
With furrowed brows, he watched her story, where a girl with jet black hair was seen pouring a drink into a red up. The background confirming that she was indeed at a crowded party.
"She doesn't have to share everything with you, you know?" Nick rolled his eyes, as if Matt should already know this.
Chris chuckled, rising from his slouched position on the couch. "Yeah, you guys aren't dating, so why should she keep you in the loop about everything?"
Chris was teasing him, and he was aware of it. Nick gave Chris a look that said, 'who does he think he is?'
But Matt didn't care. It bothered him that she didn't even tell him knowing how much she disliked parties. He reopened their text conversation and stared at his unanswered message.
He sent another text:
Hey, just checking in. Saw your Instagram story. Hope everything's ok 😊
Turning to his brothers, who were now grinning, Matt asked, somewhat annoyed, "What?"
"Come on, Matt, lighten up. She can take care of herself," Chris teased again.
"She's a grown woman, Matt," Nick shrugged.
"Fine, I don't care," Matt grumbled, shifting his attention to the TV in front of him.
"Except you do, lover boy," Nick replied, and Chris laughed.
Matt stayed quiet, ignoring his brothers' teasing. He didn't need to know every detail of her life, and Chris was right. She could manage on her own but tonight he just felt uneasy. Was she ignoring him on purpose? Is he losing her?
He did his best to shake the thoughts as he stared at his empty notifications bar, hoping it wouldn't bother him as the night wore.
“Trouble in paradise?” Luke asked curiously, a playful smile gracing his beautiful face as he observed her reaction to a text message she had received, which seemed to elicit an anxious sigh from her, if Luke were to point it out.
She nervously chuckled and replied, "No, it's just my best friend asking how I'm doing," explaining helplessly. Luke nodded, choosing not to press any further.
They were now outside, surrounded by the soft chatter and faint music coming from the house. Lorraine and Hannah had left them 15 minutes ago to mingle with the other guests.
"So, is Sam a good roommate?" Grateful that he was attempting to initiate conversation and maintain a lighthearted atmosphere, considering what happened earlier. Lorraine had already explained that they had all been friends since high school and that Samantha was her roommate.
She chuckled and replied, "Yes, she is, thankfully. Although she tends to dance when she's drunk."
Luke laughed and shook his head, agreeing, "I heard she could be a handful when drunk," recalling a conversation he had with his own friends years ago.
"What do you study, again?" She asked, changing the subject. Realizing she couldn't quite remember what he had mentioned earlier, as she had been preoccupied with trying to forget the awkward bathroom encounter.
"Oh, I study business at SDSU, same school as Lorraine," he replied. “You’re studying computer science, right?”
She nodded, unwilling to discuss her major further. "How's Boston treating you? Do you enjoy it here so far?"
"Well, I've only been here for three days, and I've still got two more to go, but yeah, I like it. Just not used to the weather, that's all," Luke replied, looking down at her.
"Oh, yeah, I completely agree. Boston's weather is moody, unlike California's. It's very different," she said.
"I don't mind," Luke shrugged. "It's my first time here, after all."
"Really?" She turned to face him fully.
"Yeah, don't tell anyone, but I've never actually been to any state other than where I live," he chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink.
"Well, I think you deserve a proper tour from a native!" She looked up at him, smiling.
"You think so?" Luke grinned at her knowingly, his eyes twinkling with playfulness.
"Yeah, I mean, I've got nothing to do. I'm finished with most of my projects."
She couldn't pinpoint the source of her newfound confidence, whether it was the influence of alcohol or perhaps Luke’s casual smiles and affectionate glances throughout the evening.
He laughed, obviously amused by her eagerness, and she couldn't help but notice how nice his teeth were and how his curls looked.
"What's so funny?" She raised her eyebrows at him, a faint smile on her lips.
Still smiling, Luke replied, "Nothing, you're really cute."
She went silent, a blush forming on her cheeks. She was about to speak when he continued, "But yeah, a tour would be nice. Maybe we could get some lobsters?"
She snickered, the alcohol giving her confidence once again. "Are you asking me out on a date?"
"If you want it to be," he shrugged coolly, his eyes never leaving hers.
"Well, it's not a date. I'm just a new friend touring my new friend in the city," she declared.
He chuckled once again, his voice ringing in her ears. "Okay then, it's not a date."
She didn't even realize how engrossed they were in each other until Samantha approached them with a wide smile. "I see you two have already met," Samantha said, her eyes holding a hint of mischief.
"Sam!" She turned her attention away from Luke, her surprise evident. "Hi. Yeah, it's kind of a long story," she said, offering a sheepish smile.
Luke chuckled. "Your roommate here seems eager to show me around the city."
"Is that so?" Samantha looked between them, clearly amused.
The atmosphere remained light-hearted. Samantha’s playful smirk hinted at her enjoyment of the situation.
“Well, if she’s offering to be your tour guide, you’re in for a treat,” Samantha said, looking at Luke with a playful glint in her eye. “She knows all the best spots in Boston.”
Luke nodded with enthusiasm. “I have no doubt about that. I’m excited.”
Samantha winked at them both. “You’re in good hands.”
She understood that Samantha was insinuating something else. She wasn't stupid and she very was certain that tomorrow, the birthday girl would pester her about this encounter with Luke.
Samantha and Lorraine gave them knowing looks after Luke offered to walk her home and after a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. It was just a 10-minute walk to campus, after all.  She didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn't want to walk home all alone at night.
She couldn’t help but remember Matt. Her Matt. The Matt she had been ignoring for hours now.
It had been an eternity since someone had taken the time to do this for her. She remembered from their high school days, how Matt used to walk her to her door, the way their hands would touch a little while walking, and her secret hope that he would kiss her goodbye. Of course, Matt never did.
“It’s been so long,” she whispered, her heart aching, unintentionally saying it out loud. Luke stopped mid-sentence.
“What?” He asked, confused.
She shook her head, caught off guard by her unexpected outpouring of emotion. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a bit lost in thought. Please continue, what were you saying?”
“You did seem a little distracted all night. Is this still about the drink you spilled?”
“No, something else,” she replied, stealing another glance at her phone. Matt’s unanswered goodnight message, sent 20 minutes ago, weighed on her. “Just a lot happening in my life,” she chuckled, attempting to make it sound light for Luke’s benefit.
“Like school?” Luke asked again, his gaze steady.
“Yeah, something like that,” she answered, slipping her phone into her jeans pocket, concealing her suppressed longing.
Matt rose from his bed, finding no solace for his troubled heart in its confines. He headed downstairs to see if Chris was still awake.
"Hey, you up?" Matt opened the door to find his brother engrossed in his phone.
Chris looked up and said, "Oh, hey. Yeah."
Matt let out a long sigh and flopped down on Chris's bed.
"Uh-oh," Chris turned off his phone and turned his full attention to Matt. "She still hasn't replied to your texts?"
"Nope," Matt grumbled. "I want to call her."
"Matt," Chris frowned, "Don't. I'm sure she's fine."
"This is just not like her," Matt added, feeling stupid.
"I thought you didn't care?" Chris teased.
"Of course, I care," Matt sighed, rolling his eyes.
"Damn, you’re really down bad.”
"Chris, what's keeping her so busy at this party? Tell me, have you ever been so engrossed at a party that you forget to check your phone all night?" Matt asked, sitting up as he tried to calm his racing mind and heart.
"Uh," Chris tried to think, but honestly, he wanted to say no. There was no plausible reason she would be so absorbed unless she was actively ignoring Matt.
"You see?" Matt widened his eyes, attempting to convince his brother. "What if something happened to her?"
Chris intervened, "Whoa, we're jumping to conclusions here. Look, Matt, I'll call her."
Matt watched hopefully as the seconds passed by.
Five rings, and then her voice came through the speakers. "Chris?" Her voice sweet as a honey to Matt's ears. She must have made it home because he couldn't hear any background noise.
How could she answer Chris and not even reply to his texts?
"Hey, look, I'm sorry. Did I wake you? Matt here has been worried sick about you. You're not replying to his texts—"
Matt snatched the phone from Chris's hand. "I'm sorry. Chris is an idiot. I'm not worried, trust me."
There was a brief silence, and Chris facepalmed, whispering, "What are you saying, Matt?"
When she didn't reply, Matt continued, "I mean, I am worried. Just checking in, you know?"
"Oh."
"Yeah."
"Sorry, no, yeah, I'm good. I just got caught up with friends, that's why I didn't get the chance to reply." A lie.
Matt paced slowly in Chris's room, trying to imagine her face. Chris gave him a look that said, 'What are you doing? Get it together.'
"I was a little concerned," Matt admitted chuckling, downplaying his worries.
"I'm fine, Matt. I just got home 20 minutes ago," she replied, her voice a whisper. She must be smiling, Matt thought, though he couldn't see her.
"Thanks for checking in, and sorry for not answering your texts," she added.
"That's... that's okay. I'm glad you're home and safe."
"Me too. This guy was kind enough to walk me home. I mean Samantha's friend from the party, Luke."
Matt and Chris exchanged surprised glances. "Luke?"
"Yeah, he was really nice. Offered to walk me. Also, I didn't tell you, but I spilled beer on him, which was embarrassing, but he was sweet about it, so we're good."
Chris snickered, and Matt shot him a hard stare, his stomach sinking by the minute. Who the hell is Luke?
"You can't be serious," Matt chuckled, trying to conceal his concern. “What?”
"No, I'm dead serious. We talked all night, and then, yeah, that's it. I offered to show him around Boston tomorrow, just to make up for what happened, I guess." She continued her story, seemingly unaware of how it was affecting Matt.
Matt couldn't hide his unease. "You just met him like 3 hours ago, and now you're spending the day with him? Who is this guy?"
"No, he's really nice, I swear. Plus, he's Samantha's friend, so..." She was quick to defend.
"I'm just saying, you don't know this guy well enough to spend your whole day with him," Matt said, growing more upset by the minute.
"Well, how am I supposed to know him if we're not going to hang out?"
Chris chuckled, shaking his head, while Matt tried to keep his feelings in check.
"Up to you. I'm just looking out for you, you know that. Again, just saying. Be careful," Matt replied, struggling to hide his true emotions.
"Yes, Dad," she teased, rolling her eyes, though she was likely fighting off a smile.
"I'm serious. I'm just looking out," Matt insisted.
"I appreciate that, Matt. Don't worry, I'll update you guys tomorrow. Also, do you still remember the address of that pasta place we visited a year ago where Chris fell in love with the chicken alfredo?"
"I'll ask him," Matt's voice sounded small. He felt like he was losing her by the second. Who was this guy? Were they going on a date? He can already feel a headache coming and a lump forming in his throat.
"I'll text you the address," Chris shouted from across the room.
"Alright, I think I'm going to bed. I'm really tired," she said, still painfully unaware of Matt's feelings.
"Okay, then. Go to sleep. Text me tomorrow," Matt pleaded, his voice carrying a sense of desperation. "Please."
"I will, Matt. Goodnight."
"Goodnight."
"Goodnight, Chris."
"Goodnight!" Chris cheerfully replied, clearly enjoying the situation way more than Matt was.
Deep inside, she felt a bit guilty for distancing herself from Matt, ignoring his texts, and even considering dating other guys, possibly including Luke in the future.
However, she loved Matt for a long time, but he never felt the same way. Some days it felt like he did, especially that time he had kissed her, but it was never enough. She believed that if he had ever felt the same way about her, she would have been aware of it by now.
She was becoming tired of constantly holding onto false hope, longing for a love that would never happen and yearning for a touch that seemed always just out of reach. She desired to be consumed by his fire, even if it meant getting burned.
She craved the warmth of his affection, the reassurance of his reciprocation, and the simple comfort of knowing that her love was not in vain.
Truth to be told, she knew that Matt deserved to know the depth of her feelings, even if it meant facing the harsh reality that he might not feel the same way. Love, after all, deserved to be known. On the other hand, she feared the potential fallout – the awkwardness, the possibility of rejection, and the damage it could do to their friendship.
She couldn't escape the fact that she had held this love within her for so long, it had become a part of her very being. It was like an unspoken truth that lingered in the air whenever they were together.
"Love has a right to be spoken. And you have the right to know that somebody loves you." - Ursula K. Le Guin, A Fisherman of the Inland Sea
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From the moment she pushed open the imposing wooden doors of the campus, she spotted Luke, leaning against a tree. The sunlight played upon his brown hair, making it appear lighter, and his eyes took on a golden hue.
It was undeniable, Luke was handsome. Every time she looked at him, it felt like a breath of fresh air on a crisp morning. Maybe it was something about the way his eyes locked onto her when she told stories, or how effortlessly he could reply with clever comebacks that always seemed perfectly timed. It was the way he carried himself that caused her poor heart to race a little.
When he caught sight of her, his face lit up. "Hey you," he grinned, his hands tucked into his pockets.
She returned his warm smile. "Hey yourself," she replied playfully, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, extending his arm, inviting her to link hers with his.
She shot him a look that said, ‘I’m not doing that,’ but she rolled her eyes, still smiling and continued walking.
Luke caught up with her, shaking his head with amusement.
Walking side by side, Luke kept his hands in his pockets, while she tucked hers inside her jacket to shield herself from the chilly air. She couldn’t wait for March to be over.
The curly-haired boy was surprised when he noticed a list of places on her notes app. Luke found it incredibly cute that she had taken the time to jot it all down for him.
“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’ve listed everything,” he chuckled, glancing at her phone to catch a glimpse of their planned destinations. “You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?”
Despite his best efforts to meet her eyes, she remained engrossed in her phone, her gaze fixed on the screen. “Of course. I did say I’ll show you the city, remember?”
Luke’s curiosity was piqued, and his eyebrows raised. A small smile played on his lips. “Do you always do this?”
She couldn’t help but laugh at his question. It was quite out of character for her to agree to tour someone around the city, especially when they had only met the night before. But Luke had proven to be a pleasant distraction from the strange texts she had been receiving from Matt lately plus he was really cute.
“To be honest,” she began, looking up from her phone to turn to Luke, “no. I just felt like doing something different today.” Her gaze softened as she spoke, and for a moment, her thoughts drifted to what Matt had texted her earlier that morning.
‘You do know that’s a date, right?’
Her response was that it wasn’t, explaining that she was simply acting as a good friend, and this left her message without a reply.
As the day went on, she found herself more and more drawn to Luke. If she were to describe the distraction from her unrequited love, who was miles away from the East Coast, it would undoubtedly be a flirty man with curly brown hair, coffee-colored eyes, and a smile that could light up any room he walked into.
With a playful tone, she leaned in and asked, “So, what’s one more thing on your Boston bucket list, aside from the lobsters?”
They sat together at a cozy coffee shop near the school, where a handful of students were studying. The shop’s walls were adorned with rustic brown bricks, and colorful flowers added a touch of charm. As the sun began its descent, the interior was bathed in a golden hue, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.
Samantha had just texted her asking how the date with Luke in which she replied again that it was not.
Luke paused for a moment, considering the question. “Well, I’ve heard Fenway Park is pretty iconic.”
She agreed, reaching for her cup yet again. “That’s a fantastic choice! You’ll get to experience the true Boston sports culture.”
Luke grinned, appreciating her enthusiasm for everything he says. “And what about you? Any more must-see places you’d recommend?”
She thought for a moment, remembering the restaurant Chris loved, but chose not to mention it, as if she were safeguarding a secret that the world couldn’t know, the restaurant symbolizing memories that were now part of the past. Instead, she decided to keep their conversation in the present, allowing it to flow naturally.
She smiled shyly, a glint in her eyes, as she playfully remarked, “If I didn’t know any better, I think you’re just finding reasons to see me again.”
Luke's grin widened, his charm shining even brighter. "Ah, you've caught me," he admitted, "guilty as charged but who could resist an opportunity to explore Boston with such beautiful company?"
Her shy smile only added to the allure of the moment, and he couldn't help but appreciate the twinkle in her eyes. "Well," he continued, his tone dipping into a more flirtatious register, "if this is me saying I’d like to see you again, then what do you say? Perhaps you could be my personal tour guide for a while longer?"
She couldn't help but blush at him. "If that's your way of saying you'd like to see me again, then I say you're in luck,” she teased.  “I wouldn't mind being your tour guide for a while longer."
Luke laughed, his face lighting up at her response, and he couldn't help but shake his head amusingly. "That's fantastic news! I supposed I'll have to come up with even more reasons to see you then."
Her smile remained coy, eyes locking onto his. "I look forward to it."
“But on a Saturday, in a café, she watched it begin again.”
(ifykyk haha)
May 2023
Nick Sturniolo couldn't tolerate it any longer; once again, his brother was wallowing in his room, shrouded in darkness with the covers pulled over his head. It seemed like Matt's sole agenda was eating and sleeping these days.
"That's enough," Nick's voice reverberated through Matt's room, with Chris trailing behind him. "This has to stop. Seriously, you need to get out."
Matt grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, Nick."
"Dude, come on." While Chris empathized with his brother's emotions, he knew that spending five days holed up in bed was far from ideal. "Have you even talked to her?"
"No," came the quiet, dismissive reply.
Exchanging concerned glances, Chris and Nick understood that Matt was avoiding them once again. Unmoved, Nick reached out and yanked the covers away, leaving Matt exposed from his warm cocoon.
"Nooo, Nick," Matt whined, rising from his bed, and walking past them into the bathroom. "Can you two just leave me alone?"
"Matt, please, this needs to stop," Nick pleaded, following him. However, Matt shut the bathroom door before Nick could utter another word.
Chris shook his head, deeply concerned. "This is getting out of hand."
"I'll call her," Nick declared, determined to mend his brother's broken heart as he headed toward the couch to grab his phone.
Chris halted him in his tracks. "Don't, Nick."
"Why not? This is ridiculous. She needs to know what's happening to Matt, you know?"
While Nick loved her just as much and empathized with her feelings for her brother, witnessing her heart break over the same guy repeatedly over the past few years, he also loved Matt and understood his reasons and he would go to great lengths to ensure he never saw his brother like this again.
"Don't do it, Nick," Chris warned again.
"Why not?" Nick persisted, challenging Chris, his frustration mounting.
"Because what are you going to tell her? That Matt's been depressed as shit because she went on multiple dates with this guy, and it all went well?"
Matt, listening from the other side of the door, emerged and interceded between them. "No one's going to tell anyone anything, okay? I'll be fine. I just want to be left alone."
"You have to tell her, Matt," Nick said, speaking more softly this time.
Chris gazed at the side of Matt's face, his heart aching at the sight of his brother in such despair. "Before it's too late," Chris added.
It pained Chris to see his brother like this, but he couldn't help but consider that maybe Matt had missed his chance with her months ago when he failed to understand why she was so upset about him having a girlfriend. Chris also couldn't deny that she had pined for Matt for years, and it had taken a long time for his brother to realize his true feelings and he also knew that even time would not wait for Matt.
In the weeks that followed, their household was like wrapped in an atmosphere of melancholy. Matt's isolation continued, and it seemed like there was a cloud of sadness hanging over them, especially when she announced that she plans to make it official with Luke.
Each day that passed without Matt addressing his feelings felt like a missed opportunity, and Nick couldn't help but wonder how much time they had left before those feelings became irrevocably entangled with regret.
He knew Matt's heartache was genuine and real. It wasn't just about a date gone well; it was about missed chances, miscommunication, and the unraveling of a connection that had been there all along. Nick also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that time was slipping through their fingers like grains of sand. It was an unspoken truth, a silent echo in the house, that they were running out of chances to mend the rift between Matt and her.
Meanwhile, Chris wrestled with his own conflicted emotions. He remembered that moment when Matt had failed to understand the depths of her pain when he had kissed her and pretended it didn't happen, his brother's lack of action when she needed him the most. It had been a missed opportunity, an oversight.
March 29, 2023
Dear Matt,
Spring’s break over. Been over for a few days. Everything is back to normal, and the air is getting warmer, which makes me a little happy. Mac Demarco’s song came on shuffle earlier on my way to class and it reminded me of when we were listening to it during the car ride back home. Remember the mint ice cream I let you try, and you hated it? Yep, that was the day.
I’ve already told you about Luke. He’s okay. He’s nice. I think I like him. I mean, what’s not to like? He flew back to San Diego, but we've been talking non-stop through FaceTime and texts. I think he might like me too, though I don't want to assume anything. You did say to get to know him better before rushing into anything.
I feel like things are changing, Matt. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I miss you so much. I wish you weren’t so far away.
April 7, 2023
Hi Matthew,
I’m just struggling with my feelings right now. Luke admitted last night after nonstop calls and texts, that he likes me more than a friend and he wants to take things further but slow.
I was frozen for a few seconds. I like him but I don’t know. I guess I’ll see where it goes.
I texted you about it, but you didn’t reply, Chris said you were out with Nick and Madi. I’ll tell you all about it later. I wish you knew, Matt. I wish you knew.  That it has always been you.
It was the second week of June of 2023 when Matt Sturniolo landed in Boston, Massachusetts. After being gone for months, he was immensely grateful he was back home. The weather was warm which made everything feel just right. Things had improved significantly with him compared to the previous month, following a heartfelt conversation with Nick and Chris. They all agreed that confessing his feelings while she was entering a promising relationship wouldn't be fair, and his brothers supported this decision.
The way she would light up when talking about Luke during their video calls was enough for Matt to accept the situation as it was. He also realized that the opportunity had already passed him. She had already met someone else, and he believed, or at least liked to believe, that this person makes her happy and that was more than enough for him.
This newfound understanding brought a sense of peace to his heart, but he couldn't deny, not even to himself, that he was truly heartbroken. Despite the acceptance, there were moments when the weight of the unspoken emotions, the timing, and the distance bore down on him.
Remembering their intimate moments together leave him with a lingering ache in his heart. Matt had been in love with her long before he could put a name to his emotions, but by the time he understood his own feelings, it was already too late.
"Yo, Nate just texted me," Chris said while munching on chips and leaning against the kitchen counter. "He said shit’s ready."
"Wait, I need to take a shower first, and then we can head out," Nick shouted from the other room.
Matt appeared from the laundry area, a sock on one hand, and asked Chris about his outfit, "Do you think this looks good?"
"Yeah, that's alright. I really like that shirt," Chris replied.
Matt smiled and said, "Me too."
Impatient, Chris sighed and yelled, "Can you hurry up, Nick? Alahna just texted me, she said they already pulled up to Nate’s house."
Nick shouted back, his words somewhat unclear, "Yeah, I'll be quick."
Silence enveloped them again. After a moment, Chris whispered, "Are you sure you'll be okay there, Matt?"
"I'll be fine, Chris. It's Nate's birthday," Matt responded, still engrossed in his phone.
Chris sent him a half smile. “You know she’s never going to replace you right? Your friendship with her is already special in its own right.”
Matt looked up, his expression softening but still uncertain. He nodded, agreeing with his brother's words, though not entirely convinced.
"Alright, I'm ready to roll," Nick announced after 20 minutes, already heading for the door.
Chris could sense Matt's tension and placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey, Matt," he began, his tone gentle. "It's gonna be okay."
Matt leaned on him, nodding. "Thanks, Chris."
With a nod, Chris turned to Nick who's already impatiently waiting by the car. "Let's get going then. Nathan's waiting."
Hands on the wheel, Matt did his best to focus on the familiar road ahead of them. Nick sang along to the radio in the backseat, while Chris stared out of the window. Deep down, Matt wanted to turn around and retreat to the safety of his bedroom, but he hid his anxieties by remaining silent.
As Matt parked the car and they approached Nate's house, he couldn't shake the nervousness that had been building inside him. Chris and Nick walked ahead towards the sliding door in the backyard, where they greeted Nate's family.
For Matt, however, it was as if time had slowed down. As he scanned the gathering, he saw familiar faces - people he had known since middle school, some high school, and some he forgot the names of. Life appeared to have moved on for them, unaware of the feelings he was facing with.
With his hands in his pockets, he looked timid and shy. But then, as if the universe conspired to grant him a moment of relief, he saw her. It had been seven months. Seven long months since he had seen and kissed her, and it felt like finally witnessing the sun after a cold winter night.
Nick was approaching her first, and she welcomed his brother with a big smile on her face. Matt couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in her appearance - her hair now cascaded just below her collarbone, framing her face beautifully. Her smile, however, remained as radiant as ever, perhaps even more so. The way she held onto Nick, the carefree way her hair danced in the breeze, the sunlight gently touching her face made her seem almost unreal. The summer air had given her a healthy flush on her cheeks, making them pinker than he remembered. Her laughter like music to his ears.
After what felt like an eternity of hugging and catching up with his brothers, she began searching for him in the crowd. Her eyes eventually found him, standing there in all his handsome glory. With knowing smiles exchanged between Chris and Nick, his brothers left them alone. Matt approached her slowly, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "Hi," he greeted her with a shy smile.
She looked up at him, biting her lip, her voice now softer compared to when she had greeted his brothers. "Hi."
Subtly and unwittingly, her body leaned towards his, just like old times, and reached out to embrace him. Matt couldn't help but notice the familiar scent of her hair, the same fragrance that used to linger on his pillow for days after she had slept over.
As always, good things must come to an end, and she reluctantly pulled away, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she looked up at him. They were so close that they could feel each other's breath.
"Missed you," Matt blurted out, unable to contain his feelings. He had truly missed her more than she'll ever know.
"I missed you too, Matthew. How are things?" Her affection for him was evident in her words. Matt, who had been the love of her life for years, was now back home.
"Things are good," he replied, his voice carrying a mixture of emotions. "I'm so glad to be back home."
"Finally," she murmured softly, the word laden with longing and spoken with an intimacy meant only for his ears. Her gaze remained locked onto his, they were so absorbed into each other that they didn't notice that their friends were watching them, both oblivious to the hushed whispers in the background.
"Yeah, finally," Matt whispered, eyes steady with hers.
Observing this interaction, Nate nudged Chris gently, nodding towards them. His eyes wide.
"Oh no, Matt," Chris whispered, seeing Luke, who stood a few feet away and had seen everything. Her and Matt are standing really close, almost as if they were about to kiss. "Don't do it, Matt." Fearing his brother would do something stupid, again.
A faint clearing of the throat from behind them interrupted their moment.
"Luke," she whispered, surprised and wide-eyed. Luke responded with a polite smile, concealing his uneasiness.
Watching from a distance, Chris's heart continued to race.
Feeling embarrassed, Matt wished he could disappear. He had let his emotions get the best of him and now found himself in an awkward situation. Sensing her pull away, Matt watched as she moved closer to Luke's side, putting some distance between them.
"Luke, this is Matt," she introduced them, her voice slightly small. She gestured towards both of them. "Matt, meet Luke, my boyfriend." Matt hid his true feelings behind a polite greeting and shook Luke's extended hand but from a distance, Chris and Nate could see the sadness in his eyes as he glanced back and forth between the new couple.
"Nice to meet you, Matt. I've heard a lot about you and your brothers." Matt couldn't help but find irony in the situation, as he remembered the night in Los Angeles when he had introduced his ex to her, and his ex had offered similar words of welcome.
Matt smiled and nodded, his gaze lingering on the way Luke held her waist.
Luke started a friendly conversation, trying to ease the obvious tension in the air. "So, when did you guys get back from L.A.?"
"We got back just two days ago," Matt replied casually, shifting his gaze to Chris and Nate a few feet away from them, who was now stopped dead in their tracks, watching their interaction unfold. "What about you? I heard you're from California, right?"
Luke, keeping things relaxed, replied, "Yes, San Diego. I've been here for a week. Planning to stay for the rest of the summer."
"Oh," Matt struggled to find the right words. Spending a whole summer, indicating a serious step into their relationship.
"That's cool. Boston has nice beaches, although they might not compare to the ones on the West Coast." 
Her gaze remained locked on his, searching for a reaction. Nathan, Matt's best friend since they were 13 has always known the right words to say. He swooped in just in time to save Matt from a potentially explosive situation. 
"Hey, you guys, do you mind if I borrow Matt here for sec?” Nate asked casually, offering them his playful smile. "We need help with the ice and stuff." He said cooly, earning a knowing glance from Matt.
This was Luke's first time meeting Matt, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the history between her and her best friend. After witnessing their intense interaction moments ago, he wondered if it has always been like this.  As Nate led Matt away, a moment of silence settled between Luke and her. She could sense the curiosity in Luke's eyes. Finally, he broke the silence with a gentle tone, "You guys seem very close. Is there more than what I know?"
She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt. "We've been friends for a long time, you know that." she replied, her voice a mixture of apprehension and vulnerability.
"I just never expected you two were that close," Luke chuckled lightly, making an effort to lighten the mood.
When she didn't reply, Luke gently continued, "Hey," speaking in a softer tone this time, he turned his entire body to face her, ensuring she could look into his eyes. "I'm not worried about anything. If you say you guys have been nothing more than friends all this time, then I believe you."
She smiled, feeling grateful that Luke had gracefully dropped the topic. But there was no lie in that statement; they were just friends. Matt had never reciprocated her feelings, and it had always been that way. She should be happy that she has a love like Luke's. A love unwavering, ever-present affection that wraps her in a sense of security and even though this love was just starting, it's here. It wants to spend the whole summer with her. It kisses and hugs her at night. A love that loves her back.
Chris followed Nate and Matt into the house and found them already engaged in a conversation. "Dude," he began. With Nate, deeply looking into Matt's eyes Chris knew he was helping calm his brother down. “What was that?”
Matt snapped, growing irritated with Chris, feeling the situation become more increasingly awkward and cringeworthy. "Just be quiet for a second, Chris."
“You need to keep your feelings in check before it gets complicated,” Chris informed, arms up in defense.
Matt sighed, realizing the truth in his brother's words. "Was it really that bad?"
"Bro," Nate gave him a sideways glance.
"Matt, with how close you two are, you might as well just kiss her," Chris whispered loudly, scanning the room for any guests who might have overheard them.
"It was like you guys were the only ones in the room," Nate chimed in, to which Chris nodded in agreement.
Matt hung his head in shame, anxiously sighing once more and burying his face in his hands. "I can't handle this."
"Yes, you can," Nate reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're here for my birthday, nothing else and you're gonna go out there and we're gonna have fun. Look, look, Karl's already setting up the barbeque."
Matt can only nod. Tonight was all about Nathan, and no boyfriend was going to ruin it for them.
Truth was, Nate was hesitant when she asked the question of whether she could invite Luke as her plus one. Deep down, he understood that she was slowly unveiling to the world the fact that this charming, curly-haired brunette with captivating brown eyes is going to be in their lives whether they like it or not. Nate was also aware of the feelings Matt is dealing with, feelings he suspected had been simmering beneath the surface ever since he witnessed them sharing a slice of pizza in his very own backyard three years ago. He feared that Matt wouldn't take this well, and the feelings of regret over missed opportunities might shadow him as he watched her with Luke. Yet, despite these, Nate couldn't bring himself to say no. He firmly believed that she deserved to show her love, just like anyone else and to Nate, this love was something his best friend would ultimately need to come to terms with.
The night proved to be a blur for her, with Matt's presence lingering nearby like a shadow. Just the knowledge that he was only a few feet away made her stomach churn. It hadn't always been like this; typically, she had a firm grip on her emotions and could maintain her composure, but the situation earlier, with the three of them – herself, Matt, and Luke – had left her wanting to go home and avoid talking to anyone ever again.
It had been a slip, a slip that should never have happened. The way she had clung to him, waiting for any sign, anything that might reveal his disapproval of her relationship with Luke. But when he walked through the door with Chris and Nate trailing behind him, she realized she had been fooling herself once again.
Matt had calmed himself down, thanks to Nate and Chris. With Nick giving him raised eyebrows as if to say, 'What the hell just happened? We'll talk about this later.' he shifted his focus to the food that was being handed around, attempting to divert his thoughts.
The night progressed smoothly, and the final blow came when Matt sat across from her in the group circle. Chloe, who had joined them, shot knowing looks her way as she sat beside Matt. "So, what are your plans for the summer?" their friend asked.
Various answers were heard from the group. "What about you and Luke?"
"We're going on Europe with Luke's friends from New York," she blurted out, her eyes finding their way back to her hands, avoiding Matt's piercing eyes.
She could hear the excitement and wows reverberated around the circle.
Luke chimed in, adding, "Yeah, it's going to be fun. I’m excited."
The conversation continued, with the group asking about when they will leave, and some were sharing recommendations for must-visit spots in Greece. She tuned them out, feeling smaller with each passing moment.
A European adventure was Matt and Her’s secret dream, a dream they had shared only in the quiet of the night, under the covers, with Nick sleeping on the couch nearby. It symbolized another significant step in their relationship, something that Matt couldn't help but notice.
Matt felt his heart break a little more with each passing moment, like a series of painful stabs. Of course, he didn’t forget the plans to elope in Europe and here she was fulfilling those dreams with another man.
When their eyes met, he masked his pain with a faint, forced smile.
Finally, the night ended with Chris giving her and Luke a friendly hug. With Matt already in the car avoiding the couple and Nick in the back saying his own goodbyes to Alahna and Nate.
Matt went straight to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Chris stopped Nick in pestering Matt and asking him about what happened at the party, he insisted that they give their brother space to work on his feelings.
~
"You're awfully quiet," Luke nudged her gently. They sat in the living room, surrounded by her sister and cousins, watching cartoons as the warm Boston summer air flowed in through the open windows of the house.
"Just lost in thought," she sighed.
"What's on your mind?" Luke asked, rubbing her hand while his gaze remained fixed on her face.
"Nothing much, just a bit nervous about meeting your New York friends," she chuckled, trying to keep her tone casual.
"They're not that bad," he reassured her, his fingers now absentmindedly playing with hers. "They'll love you. Who wouldn't love you?"
One person, she thought, but she managed to smile at Luke, appreciating his warmth. It had been a week since Nate's birthday, and Matt hadn't reached out. Part of her was secretly relieved; she wouldn't know what to say to him anyway. She knew Matt tended to withdraw when things got awkward.
This had been her problem since they were young. Matt always looks at her like he could love her, and she fell for it every time, only to have her heart broken again.
She knew she was lying to Luke about her old feelings for Matt, but she was determined to bury those emotions and start fresh with Luke.
"What if they don't like me?"
"They have no choice but to like you; they're going to spend two months with you in Europe," Luke chuckled before giving her a sweet kiss.
"I guess," she replied.
Silence settled between them once more. "Is everything ready for you? We leave really early tomorrow," Luke asked, mentally checking if he had brought everything he needed in his head.
"Yup, all packed and ready. Actually, I think I'm going to visit Nick and the boys later, you know to say my goodbyes," she shrugged.
She could feel the mood had shifted between her and Luke.
Luke straightened up, letting go of her hand. "Oh. Do you want me to come with you?"
"No, that's fine. Nick has been bugging me to hang out since they got back. He wanted to catch up and stuff."
"Alright," Luke nodded, smiling at her, not pushing further.
Setting foot in her lifelong friends' house brought a wave of nostalgia; it felt like an eternity since she had last visited. Nick welcomed her at the front door with a cheerful smile, the sounds of a heated argument between Chris and Matt can be heard from the kitchen.
"You just don't get it. I didn't know it was yours," Chris defended himself, dressed casually in shorts and a white shirt.
"Well, you should've asked me! Can't you leave a soda in the fridge for 24 hours max?" Matt shouted, clearly agitated. "Geez, you're so fucking grumpy today, is this because-" Chris replied, and Nick cleared his throat, worried that Chris might say something she should not hear. Chris noticed her presence first and practically lunged at her, almost knocking the air out of her. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."
She smiled and patted his back, returning the hug warmly. When he released her, he continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a playful tone, "I'm so sorry we couldn't talk much at Nate's party. You were so busy."
"Chris," Nick warned with a pointed look. Chris shrugged, still grinning.
"I missed you too and no, I wasn’t," she chuckled, glancing between Nick and Chris, offering a reassuring smile.
"Yes, you were. You were busy with your new boyfriend," Matt snapped, his tone cutting and bitter, causing her smile to slowly vanish. He wasn't looking at her, not acknowledging her presence and not even trying to hide that he doesn’t want her there.
The room fell silent, Chris and Nick exchanging shocked and speechless glances in response to Matt's outburst, making the atmosphere tense.
"In fact," Matt added, his voice sharp as knives, "you were so busy with your new boyfriend that you forgot we had plans to go to the beach with Chloe yesterday."
His words were meant to hurt, like venom injected into her heart. "Matt, please." Chris intercedes, but the tears and the lump in her throat were already starting.
"Shut up, Chris. It's true! She's Miss College-this and Miss College-that. Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to be in Europe with your boyfriend?" Matt sneered, his blue eyes piercing through her soul, oblivious to how much his words were hurting her.
"What the hell, Matt?" Nick glowered at Matt; his eyes wide, unable to believe that his brother was speaking to her like this.
"No, it's okay Nick, leave us," she whispered, stopping him. She swallowed hard, attempting to hold back the tears and keep her composure.
Chris, sensing that this was a necessary conversation between her and Matt, guided Nick out of the kitchen. He believed in her; if anyone could handle this, it was her.
"What's your problem?" She approached Matt slowly, keeping a comfortable distance, with the kitchen counter acting as a physical barrier between them.
"You! You're my problem," Matt mumbled, avoiding eye contact, turning his head, and looking towards the window.
In the years of friendship with Matt, they never once had an argument like this. Matt had never been this upset with her, especially over missed plans. She had missed one or two in previous years, but he had never been this furious.
Her heart ached trying to understand Matt’s current level of distress. She was not understanding why the boy in front of her was seething with frustration, his cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, and his eyes usually so warm and inviting now looks exhausted and empty.
This was not the Matt she had grown so close to.
"How am I your problem? Are you seriously this fucking upset because I forgot about our plans to go to the beach yesterday?" She was getting angrier, and her voice was rising.
Matt finally looked at her again. "Just forget it."
He tried to walk away, but she blocked his path. "No. Tell me. What's wrong?"
She peered into his bloodshot eyes; he looked so done. But before she could speak again, Matt beat her to it. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's just great. Go back to your perfect boyfriend; he must be worried about you."
"He's not worried about me, Matt. Are you kidding me? What did I do to make you this upset? Look, I’m sorry, okay? We had to pack-"
Matt didn't answer and brushed past her, bumping her shoulder in the process, his back turned to her.
"Seriously, you're just going to leave? So this is about Luke? Are you jealous? Do you think I'm too busy for you guys now that I have a boyfriend?"
"I'm in love with you, okay!" Matt turned around, facing her. His blue eyes now on the verge of tears.
She stood there in stunned silence, her feet rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe it — Matthew Sturniolo, her best friend, and the boy she had secretly pined for over the years, was in love with her.
Meanwhile, in the other room, Chris and Nick listened in wide-eyed shock, their brother’s confession echoing through the house. Chris exchanged a surprised glance with Nick, who couldn’t help but roll his eyes, muttering, “Finally,” under his breath.
Matt continued, his voice frustrated, "I cannot, for the life of me, forget the day I kissed you and how much I still wanted to. How much I wanted to chase after you that night, to kiss you again, I cannot stop thinking about it."
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"Interview" With NRC Students
Last set of my December Drabbles posts. Written after Chapter Four / Scarabia Chapter, burnt out and taking no shit Yuu. Word Count: ~5k ----------------------------------------------- You read over the set of questions Crowley had provided to ask for end of year interviews. Technically, it was supposed to be Dire's job to check in on all the students, but yet again the task was passed onto you. As you looked over the questions, you felt your eyes glaze over but a certain burning in your chest. None of these had anything to do with checking in with mental health, which was clearly what the students needed. You're no therapist. You're no faculty member, you're not someone who should be doing this anyways. You flip the paper over and think over a question you could ask. Just one. You have so many people to get through, and your emotional capacity and mental tenacity are nearing their limits. As the first person walks in an the two of you get to chatting, you finally settle on a question, maybe seeking some wisdom for yourself, and a glimpse into the way your friends, enemies and acquaintances think "What advice would you give someone who's looking to improve their day to day life? Or just advice in general?"
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Riddle is slightly taken aback by the question, before smiling assuredly. "I've been learning quite a bit myself what improvement can mean from one person to another. As you know, the standard for improvement and growth has always been set very high for me, but I think...I think that perhaps the best advice I can give is to learn to set a high standard for yourself rather than....someone else's approval.....it's not advice I've learned to follow, but I received it from a close friend this year and I believe it's sound. At least if you are disciplined enough to do so for yourself." -----------------------------------------------------------------------
Trey laughs a little bit in response, grabbing at his glasses frame and tipping them up slightly, before crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair, sighing a bit. "Advice, huh? Well, I can't say anything for sure, but I guess...don't sweat the small things. It's old advice, but there's a reason it's been said." "Did you want to elaborate on that?" "What else would there to be elaborate on? I thought that was pretty straightforward." "Maybe it has a little more of a personal meaning to you?" "I mean, I've got a bunch of younger siblings, and as vice housewarden I end up looking after a lot of people in the dorm, including Riddle. If I had to worry about every single thing everyone shorter than me was up to or doing, I'd have grey hair by now." He had a shit eating grin on his face as you stopped writing and looked up at him unamused. "You're not funny." "I like to think I am." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Cater's face almost falls a bit when he hears your question, but he keeps himself smiling. "Could...could you repeat that please? Cay-cay's um....I need to make sure I heard that right." "What advice would you give someone who wants to improve their day to day life?" He looked almost haunted, though he was trying to maintain his happy disposition. "Did...do you want a different question?" "Ahah um well no! No, it's ok, I got it I just...need a minute I guess! It's...I guess nobody's asked me for advice...ever. I've given it just never asked...specifically, y'know? Ahhh, never mind, can you forget all that and we can take it from the top?" You can't hide your concern and confusion all that well, but you nod a bit and smile reassuringly. "What advice would you give someone who wants to improve their day to day life?" Cater lights up as if the emotions he was conveying a moment ago had never existed. "That's easy! Cay-cay's got you covered! Find something to smile about everyday, because if you don't-...just find something to smile about everyday. Even if it's just one thing that'll keep you going, you're still going, and that's what matters." His smile falters just slightly. "That's all you needed from me, right? I can go now?" You give him a small smile and nod, and watch as he leaves the room, an awkward tension still sitting in the air. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Deuce looks like a deer in the headlights at the question. "Why would you ask me that?" You gave him a knowing smile, cocking your brow a bit and he cleared his throat awkwardly. "I think you have plenty to contribute to this, Deuce. We both know you've undergone a lot of personal growth to get to where you are now." "Well yeah but it hasn't been easy! And you were there when I've had.... when I've flown off the handle and just gone right back to who I was before." "But you're not the same as you were before. You feel regret, which was what made you want to change in the first place, because before you heard your mother on the phone, you didn't. I wasn't there when you were a delinquent, but I've known you for a few months now and can say with confidence you're doing a good job Deuce, you're making a lot of progress towards your own goal. If you could just share a little bit of insight on what's made it easier, or what's been a motivator other than seeking your mother's approval, I'd really appreciate it." He thinks it over for a moment, nodding slightly as the words slowly come to him. "I...I don't really know, but I guess....I've never stopped trying my best...and I give myself room to be angry when I need it. I think a lot of people either try their best most of the time, or don't put very much effort forward at all, so I think the second thing might be the advice I would give someone. To give yourself room to feel your emotions, big or small, just make sure you have a safe place to do it where you won't hurt other people too." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------Ace looks stupidly unamused and kicks his feet up on your coffee table, blatantly ignoring the look you gave him for doing so. "You're bein' so formal. We're friends why are you acting like that?" You couldn't help but huff a bit, amused but not wanting him to know that. "I have to do this for Crowley, it's not like I want to. Just answer the question Ace, then get out, I have so many other people I have to get to today." You regret the second part of your sentence when you see his shit eating smile from across the way. He settles even deeper into the seat and sighs deeply, happily and puts his hands behind his head. "So I get your full, undivided attention until you get the answer you're looking for? Cool." "Mmm, mhm, you get my full undivided attention until you waste my time and I throw something at you and the countdown is starting my patience is paper thin right now Ace, do not test me." He scoffs and sits up properly, groaning out of boredom. "Fiiiine, but is it really wasting time if you're hanging out with me? You owe me an hour after thi-" "Sure, yeah, whatever, shut up and get out, or answer the goddamned question and get out." "Sheesh, ok, fine, the best advice I can give is for you to loosen up, Great Sevens you're tense." "NO SHIT SHERLOCK." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Leona didn't even come to you for HIS interview, you had to go track down the lazy lion yourself. He mumbled something when you knocked at the door, but you didn't hear nor care if it was to come in or to go the fuck away. You let yourself in, sat at the end of his bed and waited for some sort of response. "I will throw this clipboard at your head I know you're awake." Clearly, he thought you were bluffing, as a few seconds later a very angry cat was growling at you, and your clipboard had bounced off his head and sat on the floor. You remained unphased, tapping your pen against his nose once, lightly. "You don't scare me, now what advice would you give someone who wants to improve their day to day life?" "The fuck kind of question is that to wake me up from my nap from?" "The kind that if you don't answer I'm calling your sister in law and asking her to make you because I don't have time for this shit either Leona. Answer the question. And before you say anything about me not having your family's contact info, I do have both your phone and password so tread lightly." It hadn't been hard to get, Ruggie was an open book for the right amount of Thaumarks, and Leona's phone had been on the floor, but Leona looked mildly impressed for a split second before remembering he was annoyed, huffing and laying back. "You're lucky I don't eat you alive for throwing that piece of shit at me, herbivore.” “Are you going to answer the question?” “Yeah, I just woke up, give me a damn minute.” “Mira, set one minute timer.” Setting one minute timer. “Oh for Great Seven’s sake, is that how petty you’re being? Fine. If you can’t sleep it off, get something to eat. Now get out of my room, before I decide to eat you.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ruggie didn’t even bother sitting down, he recognized the set up from the year before and laughed a little. “Shyeeheehee if these are the same questions from last year, can’t y’just hand over the paper and pen and I can pretend to write something that Crowley won’t read?” You couldn’t help but snort a bit. While it was tempting, your curiosity for what the hyena boy had for advice outweighed your want to be a little lazy. Besides, at this point it wasn’t for Crowley, it was for you. “Not this time. I’ll be honest. I have a question for everyone, I’m just trying to maintain my sanity though, this isn’t about the headmage anymore, this is me holding on by a thread and looking for some hope for the future.” You laugh weakly, and Ruggie smiles a little, concerned, but it was understandable. You had a lot on your plate, and he was kinda happy that you were that honest with him. He finally sat down across from you and slung his bag from over his shoulder to sit on his lap as he dug through it. “I’m not great with advice, but my gramma always said something about if you wanna go fast, go alone, if you want to go far, go together. So surround yourself with people that are gonna getchya to the end of the school year, ok? Or until Crowley can send’ya home. The other freshies are doin’ a pretty good job from what I can tell but if y’ever need a lil pick-me-up y’can let me know. Might even do it for free.” He grins and winks at you as he finally produces an apple from his bag, rubbing it gently with his sleeve before offering it to you. “I don’t got much, but you’re doin’ a good job prefect. Hopefully y’can pretend that’s like…a bigger prize or somethin’. And I wasn’t kiddin’ when I said I could be a part of that group if y’want me to be.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jack’s ear flicked a bit at your question, his rather stoic expression making you question exactly what was going through his mind. “That’s a pretty broad topic…but my grandparents and parents always say that ‘we will be known forever by the tracks we leave’…so…don’t do anything you wouldn’t want to be remembered for.” “Is that all you want to say?” He simply nods once, happy with his answer. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Azul pushes up his glasses and chuckles a little. “That isn’t something Crowley had you ask, now is it? If advice is what you’re seeking, then perhaps scheduling an app-“ “Azul. I would love to hear you out but frankly I don’t have the time nor the fucks to give about your business deal you’re about to offer, so if you won’t answer the question, I’ll just inform Leona that you refused to co operate and I know how to push his buttons in just the right ways to do so.” An awkward silence filled the air before Azul cleared his throat a bit. “That won’t be necessary. Wisdom that had been imparted on me by my nonna goes as follows: chi non fa, non falla. In other words, he who makes no mistakes, makes nothing. The path to greatness is full of obstacles but can be paved as you learn how to get rid of them. In my case, I recognize that I was fortunate to have seen the road paved by my nonna, and learned from her mistakes so I wouldn’t have to make my own. On the other hand, not having had that example to follow would have allowed me- er…and individual to learn on their own so that they understand and appreciate just how much effort is required. As long as you’re learning, you’re not failing, and sometimes that’s enough.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jade looked rather amused at your question, folding one arm across his chest and holding his chin with the other. “Tried and true advice is the best advice I have to give. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, you never really know who you can trust.” He smiled a bit at you, but you weren’t quite sure how to feel about it. “I’ll be going back to the lounge now. If you require anything from me, I’m simply a call away.” Did having his number make you a friend or an enemy? Did you really want to know?? ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Floyd giggles as he turns the chair around to sit in more comfortably, rocking a bit, before your question finally processes and all his excited movement stops and he slumps in his seat. “Awww but that’s so borin’. It’s not like under the sea where if y’don’t like someone you can just y’know…” he draws his hand in a slitting motion across his neck, tilting his head, and making a wretched squelching noise. “Soooo I guess the only advice I can give ya is if someone’s bein’ stupid to ya, call me! I’ll squeeze ‘em reaaaaal good for ya shrimpy!” He rocks in the chair a bit before he gets up. “I ain’t answerin’ any other questions, so ya better be happy with whatchya got.” It was good enough. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Kalim was bubbly as ever, but tilted his head like a confused puppy at your words. “Oh um, I don’t really know. I did hear this one saying though that I thought was really pretty and it was like..um well it went like ‘don’t let the shadows of today take away tomorrow’s sunshine’.” He sat, expression rather blank but happy. He looked rather expectant though, as if he was awaiting praise. You smiled a little bit at him and decided to dive in a little further. “What does that mean to you?” He looked a little surprised, but really thought it over for a moment. “Well, everything can’t be great all the time. Things are usually ok at best for a lot of people, most of the time. But dwelling on the mistakes we make isn’t going to make us feel any better, so why hold onto them when we can let them go and be happy?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Jamil frowned, shaking his head a bit. “You’re asking me this now? What question are you going to ask everyone else?” He looked rather haggard, but you couldn’t decide if after the whole hostage situation, you thought he deserved it, or if you felt bad for him. You ignored your feelings on the matter for now and sighed. “Everyone’s getting the same question.” “Very well then. My advice is don’t fucking overblot.” You looked up to see a somewhat smug expression. “Ask stupid questions, you get stupid answers. I’m going back to my dorm prefect.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Vil was poised and ready as ever. “That’s easy. The only way to ever improve is to practice. Most people say practice makes perfect, but that’s simply not true. If you don’t put your full effort into practicing, if you take short cuts, then you will never reach the level you hope. Perfect practice makes perfect. You must be persistent in achieving greatness; persistence is what sets apart the greats from everyone else. Regardless of what you’re practicing for, whether it’s a role in a movie or to develop patience, the saying remains true.” He smiled a bit and sat up more in his chair. “Was there anything else you wanted to ask me?” You smiled back a bit, finishing writing his response best you could. “Nope, that’s all for now. Thank you Vil.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Rook tilted his head a bit and smiled. “Ah, mon trickster, is that all you are looking for? Surely the head mage would not be asking a question of this depth.” He hummed a bit to himself, not really looking for an answer from you- he already knew. “I don’t so much have advice as I do a saying I learned in my time in Pomefiore. There is no rainbow in the soul if there have been no tears in the eyes. Isn’t there such beaute in that? Your soul only grows more beautiful as it does strong when you face hardships, so do not despair when the clouds blur your vision and a downpour slows you in your path. I could simply go on for hou-“ “You really don’t have to Rook, I got the gist….I think. Thank you for your time.” He smiled and tipped his hat politely. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Epel was more prepared than you may have thought, but it was appreciated. "You don't ignore the fuel gauge on a blast cycle when it says its empty. You don't ignore the flashing lights and alerts that let you know when your bike needs something. So apply that to yourself. You need fuel too, so don't wait until you can't go anymore to eat. Don't go until you're so exhausted you break down. Sometimes circumstance makes it difficult, but don't ignore the really big signs that's something's wrong and assume its gonna get better." As if on cue, his stomach rumbled, and he flushed a bit. "That bein' said, my dorm ain't exactly a picnic.  The servin' sizes barely fill me up and peanut butter can work miracles, but not that big. Jack sometimes brings me leftovers from the meals at Savanaclaw, and Deuce sneaks me desserts but it ain't the same as one home cooked meal a' comfort food, y'know?" You nodded apologetically. You refused to get actively involved, but you could offer a fellow freshman a hand. "If you bring ingredients, you can use my kitchen. Just don't get caught. And make me some food too." He looked surprised, then absolutely beamed and laughed softly. "Y'betchya! I'll make sure it's the best damn food y've had in yer life!" ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Idia’s tablet floated in front of you. There was a drawn-out silence, and you wondered if he was even paying attention behind that screen or not. Finally, he responded. “Just advice in general? Lol why would you ask me? You want gaming advice, reqs, strats, sure then yeah, you could shoot me a text or something I guess but this is just p. stupid. I literally don’t leave my room and I’m a nepo baby what relevant and useful advice could I possibly give to a normie?” “Just give me an answer I can write down Idia, it really doesn’t matter.” “Fine then. Avoid middle schoolers at all costs. I can absolutely destroy newbs in game, but IRL? Those guys can pin down your biggest insecurities in two seconds flat and won’t be afraid to call you out on it.” “You took that from a comedy sketch.” “….shut up, I tried, ok? I guess…..read all the tips on the loading screen of a game when you get the chance. Does that work?” You sighed softly, before giving him a tired smile. “Yeah it’s good enough.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Ortho let out a sad sounding beep. “What’s wrong Ortho?” The little robot kicked his feet a bit in his seat, processing. “I’m not human. I could give advice, but it might not apply the way I think it does. I could search for it, but it would not be my advice to give. Even if I said something as simple as ‘do your best’, I don’t know, really, what that means. If I give 100% effort in something, I’m pushing the extents of my hardware and software. I run the risk of overheating. I might hurt myself, and in doing that, waste my brother’s time in making him repair me over something that could have been avoided. I have my “best” programmed into me. A human can push past that discomfort, past that risk if they so wish, and in theory, achieve giving more than their best, or something that would be recorded as an anomaly or outlier in a research setting. I have no advice to give.” He lets out a sound like a sigh and sits cross-legged. “Even when I try to give big brother advice, when he follows it, things seem to go wrong. I don’t think I should be who you ask.” You looked over his defeated looking figure. You couldn’t help but feel empathy for him – clearly this had been on his mind for a while. You set aside your clipboard and held your arms open. “You look like you need a hug.” The little robot looked up surprised, then visible relief flooded his features as he nodded a bit and floated into your arms, hugging you tightly, but took care to not let his hair get too close to you. “Doing your best, regardless of who or what we are is all that matters Ortho. My best on a day-to-day basis fluctuates. Sometimes my best means I got out of bed in the morning. Sometimes my best means I finally do those tasks I’ve been meaning to do for weeks. Sometimes my best means I’m on top of everything, getting things done, and feeling great. Everyone’s best looks a little different, sometimes even within the span of hours. You’re doing great. You have people that care about you and will pick you back up if you need a little self help. While some of your capabilities are limited by programming, your actions are not. You still choose to help where you can. You are kind when you want to be. I think that’s when you’re at your best.” Ortho pulled away, nodding a tiny bit. “I think I understand. Thank you, prefect. I appreciate it.” Even though his mouth was hidden, the wrinkles around his eyes told you he was smiling again as he went on his way. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Malleus seemed intrigued, but a little surprised at your question. He shut his eyes gently as he thought it over. “For the fae, years pass by like seconds. To give advice that would only aid you in growth for the next year seems rather near-sighted, though I suppose for you, that is plenty of time to develop your character.” He hummed softly, trying to think of something he could give you, that wouldn’t be overwhelming. You gave him his time, rather happy in the comfortable silence the two of you were able to sit in. “I suppose I’ve always taken the passage of time for granted. Perhaps that is something I will work on as I set my own goals, though with that comes the advice I wish to impart upon you. Your time is precious. However, the only thing more precious is how you spend it. I only wish for you to be happy, healthy, and successful Child of Man. Ensure that the time you spend with others lifts you up, encourages you, and allows you to grow into your potential. I hope that one day, I will see you grow into your full potential.” He smiles softly, hoping that you catch on that he hopes you’ll include him in that circle of friends that will help you continue growing. However, it’s the wording he used that has you wondering if he has had something to do with why you haven’t been able to go home yet. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Lilia giggles softly. “Asking for advice from your elders, hm?” He settles in his seat on the ceiling, enjoying the fact that you couldn’t hide a tiny smile from forming from his antics. He pouts thoughtfully and taps his chin. “There’s a lot I could say. Learning to change with time, to live everyday to it’s fullest, to learn to not be afraid to take risks, that there is value in re-evaluating who you’re friends with, that you should follow your heart until your mind screams no, icicles are ideal weapons, you can train crows to sound like humans and then send them after people you hate, develop your vocabulary to the point where if someone makes you mad you make them feel stupid in your response, that you should never swim on an empty stomach, but never go on a roller coaster with a full one, don’t stick metal where it doesn’t belong, never trust where a toddler’s hands have been….I was going somewhere with this.” He paused, spacing out for a moment before shaking his head and coming back to earth to finish what he needed to say.  “Truth be told, I think the most important advice I can give is learn to tell others how you need to be loved. Nobody will ever know what you need, so even if you can’t tell the full extent of what you need, someone close to you will do their best to interpret what you mean to get you what you want. The second step to that then, is to let yourself be loved. You are the only person who sees you in as harsh of a light most people see themselves in. Let other people in to make it better.” He beamed and turned right-side up again. “Will that suffice, prefect?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Silver looked very concentrated, but needed you to repeat the question. He closed his eyes a bit as he thought, but seemed to startle when he opened them again and sighed. “Be grateful for what you do have, what you can do, instead of being upset at your incapabilities…you have other talents…and other traits than mistakes and shortcomings.” He sighed softly, mumbling something under his breath. You couldn’t make out much, but it sounded like something he had heard many times before, himself. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sebek puffed his chest out, looking disproportionately proud at being asked for advice, though as soon as he opened his mouth you realized you forgot to set a very important boundary and interjected. “It can’t be about Malleus. At all. Or any specific person for that matter.” Sebek’s shoulders fall a bit and he looks a little annoyed. “You did not specify that BEFORE HAND HUMAN!” “Well I did now, so deal with it.” “FINE! I will share with you something that has been shared with me often. It’s-“ “Please your inside voice?” “THAT WAS NOT WHAT I WAS GOING TO SAY.” “I bet you hear it a lot though.” “THAT IS IRRELEVANT. NOW BE QUIET SO I CAN COMPLETE THIS TASK, BENEATH ME AS IT IS, THAT I MAY LEAVE YOU TO YOUR PATHETIC UNDERLING WORK FOR THE HEADMAGE!” You didn’t justify that with an answer, just gestured with your hand for him to get on with it. He cleared his throat a bit and tried to calm down a little. “I was going to say…the more challenging a conflict, the more glorious the triumph. You mustn’t forget to allow yourself to be proud of what you have achieved. While your conflicts and mine may vary in how difficult they are, it does not change the fact that on an individual basis, we must acknowledge the effort we put in to overcome them.” ------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Grim sat across from you, his tail swishing curiously side to side, his head tilted and eyes wide before he grinned widely. “Course ya want advice from the Great Grim? Now listen up hench human, ‘m only gonna say it once so ya better make sure y’write it all down, got it?” You nodded a bit, trying to downplay your smile a bit at the toddler-like energy your companion emanated. He stood up on his chair, pacing back and forth a little bit like a drill sergeant. “Never eat expired tuna. If you’re really that hungry, no YA AIN’T. If ya need something from the tallest shelf, climbin’ on the counter is sturdier than any chair in Ramshackle. Sneaking food from the cafeteria works real well if your cheeks are big enough to store it!... And if ya don’t eat it as you’re tryin’ to make a break for it. Ace’s most ticklish area is behind his ear, which is why he always pushes me off when my fur rubs up against him when I’m on his shoulders. If ya ever need me to bug’m, let me know! I think that’s all I got for now.” He stopped and placed his paw on his chin in thought, before one more thing came to mind and he hopped over to you, pushing his face gently against yours. “Oh yeah. ‘Nd don’t forget t’tell the people y’care about they mean somethin’ to ya, in one way or another, 'kay?” ------------------------------------------------------------------------
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lolahasmoxie · 2 years
Text
Ready to Rumble - E.M.
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I saw this post today. Enjoy.
PAIRING: Dad!Eddie & Mom!Reader
WARNINGS: Cursing, pregnancy talk, and fluff
COUNT: 1.4 K
NOTE: I was unhappy with the ending, so I fluffed it out a bit. Enjoy!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
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It was a frigid winter day in Hawkins, and you had never been happier to pull up to your little house. The smoke from your chimney told you that Eddie and your son were already home and preparing for your return. December 24th had been spent picking up last-minute items for your get-together tomorrow and dropping off gifts in near sub-artic weather. Your bones were chilled, and you were thrilled to finally be home so you could fully relax for the holidays.
There was no need to announce your arrival; your son happily did that as he came running from his bedroom to tackle you at the garage door to the kitchen.
"Mommy!" Ozzy Wayne Munson was six years old and was the spitting image of Eddie. He had the same cow eyes, curly brown hair, and the same smile that could light up a room. You ran a hand over his curls as he buried his face against your hip, hugging you as hard as his little body could.
"Aw baby, did you miss me?" He nodded his head as you felt a hand on your waist and another gently gripping your chin and turning you to look up at a smiling Eddie.
"Hey, Mama," he said with a charming grin before pulling you towards him for a kiss. It was chaste but heartfelt, quickly making the winter chill in your bones disappear. But before you could press further, you were both interrupted by a gagging sound from below.
"You know, when you get a girlfriend, I'm going to do the same thing to you, buddy." You gently swatted Eddie in the chest before he turned and went back to the stove, the faint sound of "cock blocking gremlin" barely audible over Ozzy telling you about his day.
"Oh, guess what?" Ozzy asked. You sat at the kitchen table and pulled your son onto your lap, his little legs straddling your hips as he looked up at you with eager anticipation.
"What, my love?" Ozzy opened his mouth and grabbed his left front tooth with two little fingers. You opened your mouth in surprise when he started to wiggle it back and forth.
"I noticed it this morning; I've been wiggling it all day."
"Baby, I know you're excited about the Tooth Fairy, but you should be careful. You don't want to yank that tooth out before it's ready."
"I know, but I want it to come out tonight. It has to be tonight!"
"Why does it have to be tonight?" Eddie asked after putting a casserole dish in the oven. He wiped his hands on a dish towel while Ozzy sighed before turning away from you in your lap to face his father.
"Because if the tooth comes out tonight, then it means that the Tooth Fairy AND Santa Claus will be in my house at the same time."
"I guess it would be pretty rad if they met each other," Eddie said with a thoughtful look on his face. Ozzy nodded in agreement, his little body vibrating with excitement.
"I know! And then after they meet, they'll have to fight each other."
Eddie would have gone home with the gold if there were an Academy Award for keeping a straight face when your child says something alarming. He stared blankly at his son for a moment before his eyes glanced up at you. Because your son was facing away from you, your eyes had gone wide, and all you could do was mouth to Eddie, "WHAT THE FUCK,"
"Um, why do you think they would fight, buddy?"
"They could see who's more powerful, then the winner could rule ALL of the holiday figures, right, dad?"
"Sounds logical to me. Why don't you play while dinner finishes, okay?" Ozzy bounded off your lap and down the hallway. You and Eddie stand there perplexed for a moment before you both break into giggles and go about preparing the table for dinner.
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It's almost 11pm when you make your way to the couch in the living room. Eddie is waiting for you in black sweatpants and a shirt with a picture of Krampus. He's got the plate of cookies Ozzy had prepared for Santa on the coffee table, and he smiles as he takes a boozy glass of eggnog from your hand. You settle between his legs and rest your back against his chest, clinking your glasses before taking sips of your drinks.
"I didn't think he would ever fall asleep." Eddie mused. Ozzy had been allowed to open one gift, and Eddie had handed him an illustrated children's version of The Hobbit. Of course, Ozzy had made Eddie read almost three chapters before he finally gave in to sleep.
"Makes sense since he's our spawn. But don't act like you weren't tickled fucking pink when he started asking about the Hobbit two months ago."
"I was, but not as happy as Ozzy was when his tooth fell out brushing his teeth."
"I can't believe we created a child who wants Santa and the Tooth Fairy to fight." You groaned as you ran a hand over your face.
"Yeah, we for sure created one weird-ass kid."
"You sure you still want to try for another one?" You asked, leaning back to look Eddie in the eye. Ever since Ozzy had turned three, you had both stopped using birth control and had taken an "if it happens, it happens" attitude. He smiles down at you before placing his drink on the table.
"For you? I would have a million weird-ass babies," You can't help but smile back at him as he leans down to kiss you softly. When he pulls back, he has a serious look on his pretty face.
"Thank you."
"Baby, for what?" you ask as you reach for his hand. He squeezes back as he thinks of what to say.
"I never thought I would have any of this; a house, a wife, a fucking kid. I was just the freak of Hawkins, a joke. Then you came along, making me feel like I matter, that I was worth something."
"Eddie," you say before sitting up and climbing onto your husband's lap. You cradle his face as you wait for him to say something.
"Yeah, Princess?" he asked as his hands found purchase on your hips. Your thumbs caressed his cheeks, and his vulnerability made you want to hunt down every person who broke him down to make him feel unworthy of love and affection.
"The ones who called you that in high school are fucking idiots. You are the best person I know. That adorable monster asleep in his bedroom is a good and kind person because that's who you are. He didn't get it from me; I threaten to fight people on the regular," Eddie chuckled as he gripped your hips a bit tighter.
"Don't remind me; I can still see Hopper's face after that whole laundromat incident”.
"And that bitch should have kept her mouth shut about us," you replied haughtily as if threatening to punch a woman in the face was the appropriate course of action. "Point is, you are my favorite person in the world. I would do anything for you because you deserve it, and I really hope we get to add a couple more weird-ass kids to the party in the future”.
Eddie's eyes were glassy as he looked up at you. You leaned in and kissed him gently, hoping to convey how much you really loved him. When you pulled back, he looked more at peace, and you knew that, at least for tonight, those demons wouldn't haunt him.
"Well," Eddie sighed. "We should probably set up and make it look like Santa came through here, yeah?" You smiled at him before wrapping your arms around his neck, pressing your chest to his. You smiled at how his breath hitched when he felt your lips against the shell of his ear.
"It's not even midnight; we have time. How about we finish these cookies, have another glass of nog, then you let me love on you a bit. Yeah?”.
In the morning, Ozzy woke up, and instead of heading to his parent's bedroom, he made a beeline for the living room. He looked around, first noticing the presents under the tree, then the plate of empty cookies he'd left for Santa on the coffee table. When he looked at the couch, he realized that some of the cushions were askew, and one was on the other side of the room near the TV. His little feet took him from the living room on the path to his parent's room; he couldn't wait to tell them about the battle between Santa and the Tooth Fairy.
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thisapplepielife · 9 months
Text
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Written for the @steddieholidaydrabbles December challenge.
3AM
Prompt Day 14: Angst with a Happy Ending | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: None | Tags: Post-S4, Self-Sabotage, Post Break-Up, Hurt/Comfort, Making Up, Eddie POV
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it's all gonna end, and it might as well be my fault
Eddie can't sleep. Hasn't been able to in weeks. Not since Steve's been gone. Eddie ran him off for good this time, he's pretty sure. You can only push someone away so hard, for so long, before they actually listen and stay gone.
Steve has stayed away this time. And Eddie's been too stubborn to just call him, and say he's sorry. That he didn't mean it. That, of course, this thing between them is something real. The look on Steve's face when Eddie'd argued that this was just fumbling hands and mouths, just fucking, just bullshit, is seared into Eddie's mind. He can't see anything else but that look on Steve's face. That hurt.
That hurt, he caused. 
Just because he was scared. He pushed Steve away before Steve had the chance to leave on his own. Jesus H. Christ, he's a goddamn idiot. 
He rolls over onto his other side, and decides that's not any better, and rolls back again. He looks at the clock, and it's three a.m. It's useless. He climbs out of bed, grabbing his cigarettes and lighter. He walks out onto the porch, and lights one up. Inhaling deeply.
He looks down the street, and sees a familiar car parked along the curb. 
Eddie's barely dressed, just a t-shirt and his boxers, but he heads down the sidewalk. He leans down to look inside the car, and Steve is looking back at him. 
Eddie flicks his cigarette away, knowing he can't smoke in Steve's car, and slides inside. 
"What are you doing out here?" Eddie asks. 
"Couldn't sleep," Steve says quietly, leaning his head back against the headrest. 
"Same," Eddie says.
"Sorry for lurking," Steve says, eyes closed.
Eddie just hums in acknowledgement that he heard Steve. 
"Is this ever gonna get better? Between us?" Steve asks. 
"There is no us," Eddie says. And it's mean. Too mean. He's just tired.
"Yeah, trust me. I'm aware you don't want me around. That's a signal I actually read loud and clear." 
"Steve." 
"I know. Don't bother. I'm bullshit." 
"You're not bullshit. Stop saying that," Eddie says, cutting a look his way. 
"Then why don't you love me? Why doesn't anyone ever want me to love them?" 
All Eddie wants is for Steve to love him.
"Steve, this has nothing to do with you." 
Steve laughs, low and dry. It's cynical. 
"Yeah. It's not me. Right. It's never me." 
Eddie reaches over and touches Steve's thigh, "It's not. It's me. You're too good for me. You're going places." 
Steve laughs, a little unhinged. "I'm not going anywhere." 
"But you could. You should. Run. Flee. Get out of this town and never look back." 
"Well, that's not happening. So, I guess I'll just stay here and be miserable. And you can stay and be miserable, and we'll both just be miserable."
Eddie hates to hear Steve sound this weary.
"You don't want me," Eddie says.
"You're all I want! How do you not know that?" Steve yells in the confined space, scrubbing his hand over his face, pinching his nose. He's worn out. Exhausted. Eddie can tell, and he hates it.
"Steve, I don't-"
"No, it's fine. I shouldn't have been out here. You don't have to talk to me. You don't have to do anything with me," Steve says, turning the key over, bringing the engine of his car to life.
It's Eddie's cue to go. Eddie knows that, but he can't seem to make himself budge. He thinks if he does, that this might be the last time he ever sees Steve Harrington.
And as much as Eddie doesn't want to drag Steve down with him, he can't seem to let him go. Not again.
"Steve," Eddie tries again, and Steve's put the car in drive and has pulled up the few feet to the little house they moved into after the trailer collapsed into that split in the earth.
"We're at your stop," Steve says, eyes forward, not looking at him.
"I just want-"
"Either get out now, or I'm leaving and you're coming home with me."
Eddie crosses his arms, not reaching for the door handle, and true to his word Steve pulls away from the curb. 
It's a quiet ride back to his big, empty house. When Eddie gets out, he's acutely aware he's in his underwear and has no shoes. But he follows Steve into the house, and straight up the carpeted staircase. 
Steve pushes open the door to his bedroom, and starts undressing. Stripping down to his underwear, crawling in bed. 
That's when he finally looks at Eddie, and stretches his arm out. An open invitation. 
Eddie takes it.
He slides into bed with Steve, and buries his face in Steve's chest. Steve wraps both arms around him, and holds him close. Resting his chin on the top of Eddie's head.
"Are you done being an idiot?" Steve finally asks. Soft and quiet in the darkness.
"Yeah," Eddie says, because he is.
Eddie's quiet for a few seconds, then laughs, "You kidnapped me."
"Guess you shouldn't get into cars with strangers, then," Steve says, teasing, pulling him closer, "See you in the morning."
And Eddie knows it's Steve's way of saying Eddie better be right here when he wakes up. Eddie understands that fully, and he will be. He's done running. He loves him too much. Even if deep down, Eddie thinks Steve would be better off without him.
Eddie's eyes are heavy, the lack of sleep hitting him hard. He closes his eyes, and that's it.
The sun is streaming through the windows, and right into Eddie's eyes. He whines, and rolls over, cuddling against Steve who is still sleeping through the onslaught of sunlight ushering in the brand new day.
They have a lot of things to work out, Eddie knows that, but he is also certain that he never wants to run from Steve Harrington.
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Notes: Title and lyric at the top is from Matchbox Twenty's song 3AM. Thank you Spotify for feeding this to me when I didn't have an idea for this prompt, lol.
If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!
If you want to see more of my entries into this month-long challenge, you can check them out in my Steddie Holiday Drabbles tag, right here!
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charlesslut16 · 9 months
Text
-Candy cane-
summary : you and mick bake candy canes and realise something much more confusing...
PAIRING : mick schumacker x fem!reader
WARNINGS : none
note : i am ill, so i didn't post as much, as i would have liked...
december masterlist ; masterlist 
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You and mick have been seeing each other for weeks now. Today would be your fourth date, well ''not a date''. It was a joke that mick, and you, had since you said yes to going into a restaurant with him.
Mick and you have known each other since you were little and after the accident of his father, your mother didn't want to see him like this so she left and decided to live in the US. She visited, but she could never be fully with him.
And you and mick were separated, feeling to form for each other.
But after you turned 21, you decided to live in Germany again and weeks later you saw mick and since then you had been talking and going onto dates, like you were never away.
Mick arrived at your apartment for your fourth "not a date" encounter, and you both laughed at the ongoing joke. As mick settled in, you suggested you bake something, aiming for a casual and fun time together.
You ended up in the kitchen, surrounded by the aroma of vanilla and cinnamon as you flipped through my grandma's old recipe book. A vanilla candle in the box and next to it a cinnamon candle on the edge of the counter.
Among the yellowed pages and handwritten notes, you stumbled upon a candy cane recipe, instantly capturing your attention. Mick's eyes lit up with excitement as he read out the ingredients and instructions.
You decided to give it a shot, despite the challenge the recipe promised.
Mick and you gathered the necessary ingredients and began measuring, mixing, and shaping the candy canes. It turned out to be quite a task, twisting and shaping the hot candy mixture into those familiar striped shapes.
You laughed at the imperfect attempts, embracing the mess you were making.
Amidst the sugary chaos, your hands accidentally brushed against each other, sending a jolt through both of you. The both of you paused, your eyes meeting, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still.
Mick's gaze held a hint of something you couldn't quite decipher, but before you could contemplate further, you returned to our candy cane project. The messy candy cane project.
Eventually, after some trial and error, you managed to create a handful of reasonably decent candy canes. They might not have been perfect, but they were your creation. With a sense of accomplishment, you leaned against the kitchen counter, savoring the moment.
In that instant, a playful smile crept across Mick's face, and without a word, he leaned in. Your lips met softly, a tender and unexpected connection that lingered briefly before the both of you pulled away, your hearts racing.
"I guess this officially counts as breaking the 'not a date' rule, don't you think so, mausi" Mick said, his voice filled with a mix of uncertainty and excitement.
You chuckled nervously, feeling a rush of emotions. "I suppose it does," you replied, trying to steady your shaky, uneven breath.
Who would have thought that you and mick would be something else than friends? You had always thought that you would never see mick ever again, but now here you are.
But amidst the uncertainty, there was an unspoken understanding that something had shifted between them. They shared a glance filled with unspoken words, and as they cleaned up the sugary mess, the air around them felt charged with a newfound sense of possibility and a hint of sweet anticipation for whatever might come next.
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prolix-yuy · 2 years
Text
Plus One
Pairing: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x F!Reader "Ms Jackson"
Summary: It's Ms Jackson's company holiday party, and Frankie makes his debut.
Word Count: 3.9k
Warnings: Explicit, 18+ MINORS DNI, references to past escort work, semi-public sex, slight exhibitionism kink, references to oral sex and anal play, unprotected PiV sex (don't be a fool, wrap your tool), spanking, possessive play, little bit of brattiness, Frankie is too damn hot and Ms J is gonna make him pay for it (in the best way).
Notes: Here's my (slightly late) SW!Frankie Christmas story! This is dedicated to @lowlights for saying "All I want for Christmas is SW!Frankie" and I couldn't resist giving her exactly that. She also picked Frankie's holiday party outfit, which is absolute perfection and I would climb him like a tree if he showed up in this fit.
Takes place after Callback.
Cross-posted on AO3
Sex Worker!Frankie AU Masterlist
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The internal monologue running in the back of your mind comments on the tasteful decor, how the poinsettias and fake candles and red and green tablecloths really dress up the restaurant. The thought that “HR did a really nice job” skitters through your mind, and the warm scent of cider and mulled wine and store-bought cookies all envelops you in a nostalgic holiday mood.
Well, it would, but on the other hand this holiday party might actually kill you. Honestly. And yet you have to pretend that you’re not dying inside, a calm smile on your face while you fight back against the urge to scream.
It all started with an email.
Hi Team!
It’s that time of year again - our annual holiday party! Please join us for appetizers and drinks at Lesandro’s at 6pm Friday, December 23rd. If you want to enter the raffle for a special prize, please email Alison for a ticket.
This was all fine and dandy until you got to the next line.
Plus ones are welcome!
You shouldn’t have been surprised. It’s not the first time your office has extended invites to partners. You had brought your ex-husband in the past, the brief sting of the memory flitting through your mind. It was to be expected every year, a night to enjoy yourselves on the company’s dime in lieu of bonuses. 
You would gladly accept a check rather than the cocktails and finger foods, but you weren’t not on the planning committee. 
A little tremor of excitement over that line lightened your spirits for the rest of the day. Thinking of Frankie schmoozing with your coworkers made a smile come to your face, and his solid comfort being by your side actually made you look forward to the event. The scales tipped more towards anxiety when you walked into your home, Frankie coming down the stairs with damp hair.
“Hey sweetheart,” he said, a quick squeeze of a hug before heading to your car for groceries. Worrying at your lower lip, you waited until you were both in the kitchen sorting produce before you spoke up.
“I’ve got a company party coming up in a couple weeks,” you said, toppling a few apples onto the counter.
“You’ll be out late?” Frankie asked, dumping fruit into a colander in the sink. The running tap let you take your time with your response.
“Actually, I can bring a plus one,” you tried to say breezily, rolling a stray lemon under your palm. It grounded you as Frankie turned to you. “If you want to come,” you added at the end. When his pause went on too long you hazarded a look up at him. He was smiling in that somewhat exasperated way that let you know you’d been overthinking again.
“Why wouldn’t I want to come? Maybe I can guess which one of those girls steals your yogurt on Wednesdays.” The remark made you giggle, leaning back against the counter as Frankie’s mischievous eyes eased your tension.
“I don’t know, I built it up in my head, asking you.” You shrugged, voice getting a little softer. “My ex never liked going to these things. Complained for weeks before and after, then would barely talk to me when we were there.” You shifted, crossing your arms over your chest. It wasn’t the first time you’d talked about your past relationships with Frankie, but having to feel the grief, the sickness in the pit of your stomach, the tension of revising those memories still made you want to crawl out of your own skin. Frankie’s hands, heavy and soothing, wrapped around your biceps.
“If you want me there, I’m there,” he said, rubbing your arms with a reassuring smile. You nodded, letting your forehead drop against his shoulder when he stepped closer. Sucking a deep breath in, Frankie’s clean musk and fresh soap smell released the tight muscles in your jaw. “Where are they having it?”
“Lesandro’s.”
“Oh, so it’s like, a nice party,” Frankie mused, hand kneading at the back of your neck where you held much of your stress. You melted into the massage, pressing your cheek to his plush chest.
“Eh, we come from the office, you don’t have to dress up,” you mumbled into his worn t-shirt. He hummed in response.
“Could be fun, though,” he said, working his thumb into the meat of your shoulders. “Dressing up for it. I’d like to make a good first impression.” 
Leaning back, you raised an eyebrow at Frankie.
“Oh really?”
He blushed, and you thought your heart might explode at the sight. Slipping your fingers into the wisps of gray-brown hair at the nape of his neck, you swayed against your boyfriend.
“Then bring your A-game, handsome.”
Which is why you’re standing here now, close to literally exploding.
Because when Frankie texted to tell you he was here, you didn’t expect what walked in the door.
First of all, no Standard Oil hat. You didn’t expect him to wear it, but it’s such a part of himself now you forget he can go without it. He styled his hair loose and curling, not a wild mane but controlled wisps that flick out around his ears and bounce along his forehead. Little glints of silver you refuse to let him cover up at a salon catch the glittering lights in the restaurant. He’s wearing a white button-up, the top two buttons open to bare a delicious vee of tan skin around his throat. He clearly wasn’t patient enough with the sleeves, though, because he’s rolled them up around his elbows, accenting his strong forearms. You’ve never seen the pants he’s wearing, some sort of dark blue-black slacks that hug his trim hips perfectly before descending to black leather monkstrap shoes. 
And he’s wearing his fucking glasses.
Your cunt throbs at the sight.
He searches the crowd, the smile that breaks out when you lock eyes making your legs weak. He weaves his way through your coworkers, a few watching him curiously as he scoots by. Once he’s made it to you, a hand on your lower back and a kiss to your cheek, the eyes that followed him now land on you. The pride this swells in your chest makes you giddy.
“Have I missed all the food?” Frankie asks in your ear, your response a shaken head. He mock-sighs in relief before Cindy strides up to you both, ever the nosy one. Her smile is too big, hand outstretched to Frankie.
“And who have we here?” she asks, eyes flitting between you both. You brim with a little more pride when Frankie takes her hand, giving her a kind but firm handshake.
“Francisco Morales, the boyfriend,” he says with a little jest in his voice, Cindy laughing louder than necessary. 
This is the theme of the night, Frankie approached by coworkers and chatting his way through the first impressions. You smile and schmooze along with him, but inside marvel over how smooth he is. The perfectly timed jokes, the attentive smiles. As Cindy (and some people you’ve never even met) approach and leave, he knows exactly how to engage and play off their differing personalities. Giving space to the chatterbugs, coaxing conversation from the quiet ones, engaging in interests and offering his opinions. 
“This won’t be my first time in a room full of strangers with high expectations,” Frankie had said a few days before when you offered him an out on the party. The implication flew over your head until he added, “I’ve been hired as an escort too.” 
The revelation led to another one of those matter-of-fact conversations that were so fascinating with Frankie. He talked about sex work (and escorting, in this case) with no more emotional attachment than discussing what cars he worked on.
“I did a charity event once, older woman who wanted a younger man on her arm but didn’t want to look pathetic.”
“A girl had a bodyguard fantasy we played out at the Plaza. One of the nicest hotel rooms I’ve worked in.”
“You learn a lot by acting like the trophy, and people will tell you the wildest shit if you just listen.”
All of these skills were in action now as you watched him listen to someone from customer support discussing chatbot services. The second glass of champagne in your hand is warming under your fingers but you barely notice because this is a Frankie you rarely see. He’s in an element that’s foreign to you, used to his soft competency and attention and now witnessing his surety, his confidence, his ease at shifting into exactly what everyone wants.
Even the moments when you feel a stab of jealousy - Debbie touching his arm when he makes a joke, how he gives everyone his undivided attention - he always makes his way back to you. His hand rests on your lower back,  pulling you into conversations when you’re being edged out. And when you’re leading, having a discussion with a coworker, he listens closely by your side and nods along, even if you know he’s lost as to the topic.
It’s turning you on way more than you want to admit. 
The party is grating on your nerves after an hour and a half, your brain screaming at you to leave. Listening to Carl complain about the cost of events planning pales in comparison to showing Frankie exactly how much he’s been affecting you all night. The ache only worsens when you catch a glimpse of his profile, smiley and easygoing, as his shirt gapes to reveal no undershirt underneath. You could slip your fingers inside and drag them along the smooth expanse of skin there, before slipping them down to pop every button open as you descend lower and lower…
“Your man not dress up for you much?”
Erica, one of your favorite coworkers and confidant, sidles up next to you as Frankie tries to leave a conversation by the drinks table, two glasses in hand. Your face heats up as you fan yourself surreptitiously with a napkin.
“Mmmhmmm, okay no need to answer that one for me. Boss left ten minutes ago, go get your man out of here before Johnson bores him to death,” she murmurs, giving you an approving look before going back to her lost-looking husband. Her revelation, coupled with your increasing need, rockets you across the room to Frankie’s relieved face.
“Sorry Johnson, I need Frankie for a minute. Nice seeing you!” you rush out, depositing Frankie’s proffered glasses on a waiter’s tray. Hands free, you tug Frankie to the exit, his voice lost in the rush of blood to your ears. 
Out of the stuffy room and into the cooler night, Frankie huffs in surprise when you push him back against the building’s exterior and steal a heated kiss, a quick press of the lips preceding your tongue pressing into his mouth, stifling his moan with your own. Taking the hint, he pulls your hips flush with his, attacking your mouth with as much fervor as you’re giving. His teeth scrape against your tongue, letting you grind him against the concrete wall before he spins you to switch places.
“You had to wear the fucking glasses,” you gasp when he pulls back enough to nibble along your jaw. 
“Thought they’d make me look smarter,” he whispers in your ear, palming one breast with the broad expanse of his hand. You mewl under the attention, mind hazily realizing you’re way too out in the open to be getting groped so thoroughly. 
“Thought you’d ruin my panties is more like it,” you hiss back, spreading your legs to invite him between them. He shakes his head against your neck.
“Not here, let me take you home and take my time,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss behind your ear. The whine you squeeze out surprises you both, “needy little thing” the next words that Frankie drips against your skin. 
“C’mon Frankie, feel how wrecked you made me,” you goad, the roll of his hips against your core revealing Frankie’s desire as plainly as your own. Stealing a glance towards the front door, he slides a hand under your skirt and swiftly pulls your panties to the side, sliding two fingers through the slick mess.
“Fuck, baby, all this for me?” he asks, and the buck of your hips against his hand slides his fingertips inside you shallowly. He growls in your ear, that feral noise that makes you want to push him until he snaps and takes from you. Pulling you away from the wall, he sucks his wet fingers into his mouth with a flash of darkness in his eyes.
“Get in the truck, we’re going,” he says quickly, his stride longer and faster paced than usual. His own need mirroring yours makes a wicked idea bloom in your lust-addled mind. It would get you into some trouble, but the reward would be as good as the punishment. Maybe better.
Frankie buckles in and drives you swiftly out of the parking lot, your house only a twenty minute trip from Lesandro’s. Twenty long, aching minutes with Frankie so close you can almost taste him. You need to taste him.
Palming his hard cock through the slacks earns you a groan and a swat at your hand, Frankie’s knuckles tightening on the steering wheel.
“Baby, stop, I need to get us home. You can last twenty minutes,” he admonishes, which only mounts your need. Another long stroke, another warning, and you’re popping the top button of his pants open. He says your name now, hand coming to wrap around your wrist as you slide his zipper down.
“Please, Frankie, just let me taste you. I’ll be good, I promise,” you beg, one hand slipped under your own skirt and sliding through your slick. “You got me so worked up, I just want to make you feel good.” Leaning over you blow a puff of hot air onto his cock, still straining against his boxer briefs. A string of curses fall from his lips as you mouth him, wetting the cotton with your tongue.
“Fuck, you just can’t wait, can you? Okay, baby, okay, but you can’t…you can’t suck me off, I’ll crash the fucking truck if you try. Just hold me in your mouth if you need it that bad,” Frankie gasps, the words finally allowing you to slip his cock from its confines and into your hot mouth. He groans loud at your heat engulfing him, your clever fingers finding your clit and stroking quick circles as you try your best to follow his rules. But Frankie is large and thick in your mouth. You can’t help sliding back up to adjust your jaw wider. Or when you slide back down your tongue flattens against the underside, lapping at the thick vein. That’s just a force of habit. 
When you hum at the feeling of his head brushing the back of your throat, you can’t help but admit that you’re doing it on purpose.
“Fucking Christ,” Frankie swears, and you feel the car move from asphalt to dirt before coming to an abrupt stop. You slide your lips up and off his cock to ask why he stopped, but Frankie is already unbuckling his seatbelt and pulling you up to his mouth. He crashes his lips against yours, holding you in place with one firm hand on the back of your neck. 
“Little tease,” he purrs, and the rush of heat to your cunt has you arching into his chest, burying your wet fingers in his hair. “I was going to take you home, spread you out on our bed and make you cum so many times you’d lose your voice.” Frankie’s thick fingers pinch your jaw, widening it so he can delve deeper with his tongue. You’re practically dripping on the bench seat, trying to move to your back but he holds you there, and the roughness of his touch makes your body thrum like a live wire.
“Was going to lick this pretty pussy until you came on my face, then flip you over and do it again. Maybe even tease your perfect little asshole,” he continues, your heart hammering in your chest as he pushes your arousal higher and higher. “Then I was going to make you cum around three fingers. Get you to squirt for me.” 
“Frankie, fuck, please…” you whine, hips rocking against nothing, but he wraps his hands around them and bumps your noses together.
“Oh I’d have you begging by then too, but no, you couldn’t behave. Couldn’t wait the twenty minutes to get you home.” Your world spins as Frankie turns you to face away from him, pulling your ass tight against his hips. Heat blooms along your chest and face when you realize you’ve pushed him enough to lead to this.
“So you’re getting what you wanted, sweetheart. I’m gonna fuck you, needy little thing. Gonna give you my cock and you’re gonna take it just like this.” With that he flips your skirt up over your ass and slides his cock through your slick. Your jaw drops open; the truck is barely off the road, hidden by a few overhanging trees and a lack of streetlights but still very visible to another car passing by. Thighs trembling, you try to steady your breathing. It’s dangerous and mollifying, exhilarating and terrifying. 
“You know what to say if you don’t want this,” Frankie murmurs in your ear, gentler than before. You do, you know the colors and the words that will slow Frankie down. But like hell do you want that right now.
“Green, handsome,” you shoot back, wiggling your butt against him. He chuckles darkly, guiding your hips to slide his cock over your clit. 
“Then put your hands on the door,” he says, nudging you forward to brace yourself against the passenger door. Knocking your knees apart, Frankie’s bulk settles against your ass before his thick head begins breaching you.
Eyes rolling back and your mouth open in a silent moan, you savor the girth of Frankie’s cock with no preparation. You’re so slick and yielding, but he always stretches you to your limits. Even as he fucks shallowly into you, getting you used to him, you beg for more.
“Please Frankie, fuck me, want you to wreck me, been wanting you inside me all night,” you groan, pushing back to bury him deep inside, grinding the base of his cock to tease your throbbing clit. Frankie’s hands tighten around your hips, and with a sharp snap that knocks a gasp out of you as he sets a powerful pace. 
The truck cabin fills with the lewd sound of Frankie’s fat cock fucking into your wet cunt, his guttural moans mixing with your higher ones. When you look behind you, Frankie’s baring his teeth and puffing air through his nose, curls sticking to the sweat at his temples.
“This what you need, beautiful? Needed me to pound this pussy until you can’t think? Needed me to claim what’s mine?” His filthy words hit a chord deep inside you didn’t know existed until he spoke it into life. You roll your hips back against him, leveraging your thrusts with your hands on the door.
“Yes Frankie, need you to fucking take me, make me yours, take what you want, I want everyone to know I’m yours,” you babble. A sudden crack of skin on skin makes you cry out, flooding your cunt with arousal. Frankie soothes the red handprint on your ass before tapping his fingers along it. 
“Fuck, baby, you like that?” he moans as you nod vigorously in response. “Yeah, I can feel how much you liked that. Take it,” he orders before he slaps your other cheek, admiring how your movements get sloppier as you writhe in pleasure. “Mine,” he growls, another gentler slap. “Mine,” he pants as he yanks you back and pushes your chest to the seat, arching your ass up high for him to keep pounding into. “Mine,” he growls into your ear when he folds over your body, his thrusts shortening but hitting that powerful spot, tightening you around his cock.
“Oh fuck, sweetheart, I can feel it, you’re so close. Cum on me baby, I’m…fuck, I’m yours,” Frankie gasps, the possessiveness now curling in your own heart as you listen to him rail you within an inch of your sanity while repeating “yours” under his breath. 
“Frankie, please…” you ask, not sure of what you need but he nods against your spine. Threading his fingers between yours, he slides his other hand to your clit and strums it fast and hard, the intensity throwing you off the edge of your impending orgasm. 
With a muffled shriek you cum, feet scuffling against the leather seats and your hips bucking beneath Frankie’s weight. He holds you down, guiding you through it as he works his cock slowly through the grip of your channel. When the aftershocks subside, Frankie pumps into you a handful of times, then pulls out to spill on your ass with staccato moans. 
For a long moment the truck is filled with gasping breaths, Frankie using your own skirt to wipe up his spend. When his heat disappears you prop yourself up to catch him leaning against the driver door, legs splayed and his head tipped against the cool glass, chest heaving. It takes a moment to rearrange your limbs but you finally slide between his legs and rest your head against his chest. His arms come up to cradle you there, stroking your back. You enjoy the silence, the comforting cadence of Frankie’s breathing bringing you back down.
“Was that too much?” he asks, a little apprehension in his voice. “I know we don’t go down that kind of path often…”
“Frankie, that was fucking amazing,” you soothe, grinning into his chest. “And I instigated that, I knew what I was asking for. Though you did almost make me end it with that plan you laid out.”
“Oh did I?”
“Very tempting.”
“You made your choice.”
You both laugh a little, the glow of the truck’s clock reminding you of the late hour. But Frankie has one more question to air in the dark.
“You weren’t jealous tonight, were you?” he asks, tucking his chin to look at you. “Because nobody in that room held a candle to you tonight. Or any night. I’m yours, babe,” he says, stroking his thumb along your cheek. The love that blooms in your chest is all the answer you need, but you’ll still say it.
“I loved being yours tonight. And every night.”
After getting back on the road, Frankie hums thoughtfully.
“If you wanted to do that every now and then…” he says tentatively, drawing your attention to his stunning profile. “You know, tease me, get me riled up, I’d be into that.” 
A wicked smile curls your lips, half hidden in the dark.
“You like it when I rile you up?” you ask, leading Frankie’s hand back between your legs. You could find the energy for another round, your folds still soft and dripping. He gives you a look like he could devour you whole.
“I like it when I can show you you’re mine,” he rumbles, cupping your sex as the minutes until you’re home tick by.
“Show me again, then.”
END
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The story continues in Frankie's First Time
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lowkeyrobin · 3 months
Note
👀 guess who's back
Is now a bad time to request a Foosh fic?
helloooo!! ; also I'm backed the fuck up but dw I swear I'll get this shit posted LMAO ; also went for some angst cause why not (I wanted to write maze runner angst of some sort but idek I have too many reqs)
FOOLISH GAMERS ; meet you at the graveyard
summary ; you have to say goodbye to one another
warnings ; language, suicidal innuendos
disclaimers ; snow in carolina 😭🙏 forgot where bro lives for a minute, reader is 23 but can mostly be ignored ig, young sheldon reference, me venting about loss and grief kinda idek
track ; meet you at the graveyard, cleffy
word count ; 853
b/m = birth month & b/d = birth date
masterlist
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Foolish somblerly walks up to the graveyard where you lay now, where you stay now. He carries a bouquet of crimson red roses in his hand, the snow under his feet making a crushing sound as he walks.
His head hangs low, the vision of the accident and your face clouding his mind as he lays eyes on your headstone. He sets the flowers down across the snow, covering the bottom of your headstone like a freezing cold blanket.
You didn't deserve this, being only twenty-three.
His fingers trace your birth date and death date fragiley, like he'd hurt you beyond the grave.
B/M B/D, 1999 - December 28th, 2022
It stung seeing those numbers like that, under this circumstance. Your birthday was something to be celebrated, bringing joy and excitement, but now it hurt. Instead of creating more fun, happy memories with you, he'd have to sit in silence and ponder, drowning in those old memories because he couldn't make any new ones with you.
He sits down, looking blankly at the grey stone, then up at the grey skies above.
He talked to you every once in a while when he visited, trying to fill the empty hole in his heart. He felt like Mary Cooper talking to you like this, still hurt and alone, just wishing it'd all get better.
"How do you ever expect me to be happy?" He asks, his tone laced with the slightest bit of anger. Anger at himself mostly, angry at the force that took you away from him. "Why isn't letting go as easy as loving you?"
Tears stream down his frost-bitten cheeks, glowing a bright red. He wasn't properly dressed for the cold, only wearing some thick shoes, jeans, and a heavy coat over a t-shirt. He'd nearly left the house wearing basketball shorts until he saw the snow in his yard.
"I can't help it, it's just the way I'm wired, I know. I just can't let go. I love you too much to even try." He shakes his head, shoulders raised as he tenses up. "Every time I see photo recaps of you on my phone, I just cry. I don't wanna cry anymore, Y/n/n. I wanna smile when I see you, but I can't."
He wipes his tears away with his thick sleeves, sniffling a bit as he attempts to keep his composure.
"You taught me so much, you gave me so many new experiences and memories and showed me things I never would've if it weren't for you. I'm here right now because of you, everything is because of you." He admits. "Getting over you feels so wrong, even if it's just trying to live with myself without you. Those words that you said before you left my house are stuck in my head like glue, I don't know what you even meant. I can't even tell between fact and fiction with it"
He thinks of it over and over again before whispering it aloud. "'See you tomorrow, maybe', what does that mean?" He questions, "What does that even mean?" He asks again, his voice breaking.
At the response of nothing, he hides his face in his hands, struggling to hold back the tears. He quickly stands up without wishing you goodbye, heading back to the front entrance to leave and get back home.
You watch as he does so, his frozen fingertips hidden in his pockets. You sat on top of your headstone, knowing he couldn't see nor hear you, hoping one day he could. You always answered his questions, responded to his statements. You'd stay there until he joined you, hoping it was later rather than sooner, if anything.
As much as you'd been waiting for him, you could wait longer. You wanted him to live the long, fulfilling life you didn't give yourself. He'd be okay without you, he just needed time to adapt.
The days flick by quickly as if they're merely seconds, showing the snow melting over time and those roses wilting. Eventually, they're fully decomposed, leaving the plastic wrapping to be picked up by a stranger visiting their loved one, as it'd blown in the wind toward them. The grass is cut again once it's warm again.
They never weed wack, but mow over the flowers Foolish left at your grave, angering him. He decided that every time he'd come, about once every two to three months, he'd plant new ones. They hadn't run over the new rose bush he'd put beside your headstone, pleasing him at least.
You watched as he grew month after month, clearly happier and healthier after each visit. They'd become more sporadic, but he'd never healed, you don't just heal after losing someone like that. You break for good, you're able to super glue the broken plate back together, but cracks and small missing pieces still remain.
His goofy laugh makes itself present one day, lighting up your whole face like you'd never smiled before. It glued together one of those broken pieces inside of you, you swore it.
"I love you, Y/n/n."
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eirikrjs · 1 year
Text
UPDATE 9/2/23
Wow, it's almost fall and I'm still kickin', so here's a proper update about what's been going on with me. I do feel great most days, and with Halloween in season around the US, it makes me very happy. As far as stroke recovery goes, my leg has a newly made brace and my walking in general has greatly improved the past few months. I really don't roll my left foot anymore, in other words, my foot can go flat instead of landing on the ankle and possibly causing injury.
My arm is still mostly nothing but a couple weeks back I was able to move my shoulder again so there's hope. I also got a home electrical stimulation device so I give my arm and hand a jolt for an hour everyday. With time, I feel confident i'll recover.
A great help with my recovery has been the amazing @dagdasgoddess , a fellow young stroke survivor who has been watching out for me and offering encouragement every day for a couple months now, exactly when I needed it. Mentally, stroke recovery is pretty damn tough but most days I feel positive about it, with great thanks to her.
And now on to some business. Shortly before my stroke I was planning on celebrating the 10th anniversary of my blog (which would have been in December of last year, but I was still in the hospital, obviously...) And one of the things I was going to do was photograph and review all the smt demon figures I have, using my special diorama table. I got around to starting the project a couple weeks before the stroke, naturally starting with the Leonard figure. Here's one of the pics:
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I also made something of an anniversary banner, just because, I guess:
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I also want to talk about some milestones reached, starting with some follower counts. By December last year I finally surpassed 2k followers, so thank you so very much. This is after Kanekos Crib Notes quickly dwarfed my own blog followers shortly after its establishment in like 2014. But now my own blog is even ahead of kcn, as undoubtedly its current annual schedule limits its growth and reach. (But hey, it's almost October, aka KCN MONTH)
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The last milestone is above: my Stealing Knowledge blogger has reached half a million views! Unbelievable, thanks for reading and sharing over the years! Identity crisis part 3 remains the most viewed, with over 50k on its own.
Finally, I want to talk about the future. Another 10th anniversary plan was to try and monetize the blog somehow, probably via a Patreon for new articles and such and many other ideas, maybe even doing YouTube videos to answer asks instead of them being all text. I have lots of other ideas too, but they'll have to wait until my arm works again. So instead of monetizing the future, for now I'm just going to ask y'all kindly to chip in for the blog's past. I'm amazed at how much activity the blog still generates from--let's call it "legacy content".
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To that end, I have set myself up a kofi account where you can show your appreciation for that "legacy", kuwabara, kuwabara, if you'd like. All money earned will go towards paying down bills accrued during my recovery, like my hyperbaric treatments. In perfect honesty, it's been around 3000 US dollars so far. Don't feel obligated to contribute and thank you all for still sticking around with me despite my relative inactivity. And if course, continue keeping @sorenblr busy if you wish.
I would also not expect my own recovery before next year, that's just stroke for you. Thank you all!!!!!
p.s. I was featured as a stroke survivor again on another therapy facebook post:
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