#Sydney defended their life out

[melancholytimes]

Congratulations to Sydney FC for winning the A-league championship. Super happy to watch the game on YouTube. Thanks!! It was an intense game. An intense 1-0

[thebearer]

in your eyes, the man that i could be |carmen berzatto x reader| part two

prompt: after carmen finds out you're staying at pete and sugar's house, he goes to try and talk to you. he's faced with his furious sister and harsh truths instead.

or part two of the devastation fic lol that is based off this ask from the other day <3

contains: angst! angst! this one is very much so more carmen focused bc let's be real... he's the problem in this one lol. still hurt with no comfort but more this one than last one?? mentions to past trauma, family trauma. sugar clears carmen in this one. slight mean carmen still, slight angry carmen still. language. dad!carmen x mom!reader. no resolution but the make up is in the next and final part! still heavy so read at your own discretion! word count- 4.8k+

Fak twisted his hands, nervously watching Carmen pace back and forth furiously. One hand running through his hair, tangled and matted from the continued motion; the other lifting and pulling the cigarette to and from his lips. Fak wasn’t sure how Carmen wasn’t sick yet. He’d never seen him smoke so much, seen anyone smoke so much. 

“Neil, I’m not fuckin’ playin’ anymore, ok? You’re startin’ to really, really fuckin’ piss me off.” Carmen’s jaw ground tight, voice starting to growl with that gravelly warning shake that had Fak flinching. “You better tell me where you put my fuckin’ car keys, alright? I-I’m not sitting here, ok? I’m not gonna sit around wi-with my fuckin’ thumb up my ass like a jagoff while my wife and kid are a-at fuckin’ Sugar and Pete’s!” 

“Carmy,” Fak tried to keep his voice calm and firm, like Sugar and Richie had coached him to, hyping him up before he entered the house. “I can’t give you your keys right now, becaus-” 

“-Oh, fuck you! Fuck you! Who the fuck do you think you are, huh?” Carmen roared, teeth bared and eyes narrowed. 

Fak didn’t think he’d ever say it, but he missed the sad Carmen from before. When he’d been sent to check on Carmen and Richie, to find out where the hell they were before Sydney had a meltdown in the kitchen, only to find a nearly hyperventilating Carmen and an unsure and frantic Richie trying to calm him. Fak had known Carmen a long time, his whole life, really, and never once had he seen him so… so sad. 

That sadness was long gone now. In its wake, an anger, worse than before, than he’d ever seen or could have imagined. Fak had just tried to comfort Carmen, offer up some encouragement that you and Teddy and Anchovy were all ok, taken care of- at Pete and Sugar’s. He didn’t realize how that would flip the switch, how it would infuriate Carmen. 

“I-I’m Fak.” Fak blinked, nervously. “You know me. I’m your friend, Carm, and I-I’m just trying to help you-” 

“-You’re trying to help me? You’re trying to fuckin’ help me by keepin’ me away from my wife?” Carmen’s voice boomed, shaking the walls of the house. 

Even in his loud rage, the house seemed too quiet, too still. There was no baby TV show on, no hum of the diffusers, or Anchovy’s small purrs and chirps. Carmen missed him, missed him jumping on the counters just to piss him off. He missed you defending him, missed how Anchovy would startle and run anytime Teddy would gurgle or whine. 

God, he missed Teddy. He spent the first night in the nursery, sitting in the rocking chair, staring blankly ahead, wishing he had the small screaming bundle to rock to sleep. 

Carmen couldn’t bring himself to go into the bedroom. Not again. Not after he found your ring laying there. He’d scared Richie so badly with his cries that Richie had enforced the ‘Mikey Prevention Plan’, his twisted humor of a way at keeping Carmen from being alone, from hurting himself in his misery. 

“Carm, I-I can’t.” Fak stuttered, looking at the door, begging Richie or anyone, really, to walk through the door. “You know I can’t.” 

“This is fucked up, Neil. You know that? You know how fucked up this is? Keepin’ me from-from Teddy? From my kid?” Carmen took a long drag of the cigarette, smoke blowing out of his nose with his panicked breathing. His hands still shook, everything was still shaky and rattling with uneasiness inside him. 

“Carm, I- Don’t say that.” Fak shook his head, he could feel himself caving. Carmen could too. 

“You’re keepin’ me from her, Fak. You know that? You know you-you’re keepin’ me from my daughter? My baby? Don’t you-you know how fucked up that is?” Carmen shook his head, lips pursing in disgust. “You’re lettin’ Richie boss you around like he always does, an-and you know, you know deep down that this is wrong. Keepin’ me from them is wrong.” 

Fak hesitated, a nervous sweat breaking out on the back of his neck. “Richie said-” 

“-Richie can get fucked. Ric-Richie doesn’t know shit! He doesn’t know shit, you know he doesn’t know shit, a-and you’re lettin’ him tell you what to do? Richie?” Carmen scoffed, throwing his hands out. “The fuck does Richie know, huh? H-He’s divorced, an-an-and barely sees his kid-” 

“-Hey!-” Fak’s eyes widened in shock. “Carmen, you don’t-” 

“-Is that what you want? You want me to end up alone?” Carmen’s eyes are wild, crazed, but he goes still. “Y-You want me to end up like-like Richie? Li-Li-Like that?” 

Fak swallows, both standing in the thick, tension filled silence. “Carmen, I-I can’t.” Fak shook his head slowly. “I don’t… I think you need to, I don’t know, I think you need to calm down before you go see them.” 

“Calm down, you’re tellin’ me to calm down.” Carmen snarled, bitterly scoffing at Fak. “Fuck you. Alright? Fuck you. I will never forgive you for this shit. You hear me? You-You doin’ this to me, keepin’ me from my family. I’ll never fuckin’ forgive you.” 

Fak flinched, Carmen’s words cutting brutally through him with a bitter sting. Carmen stormed off, the front door slamming with a force that sent vibrations through the house. Fak was surprised it didn’t split the wood in two. Walking towards the front window, he saw Carmen storming off, furiously lighting another cigarette, running a hand through his hair, again. Fak assumed he was out of Spirits, that he’d smoked through another pack, walking to the corner store to get more. After thirty minutes, he called Richie, frantic that he’d let Carmen loose. 

“What part of Mikey Prevention Plan don’t you fuckin’ understand?” Richie sneered over the phone, trying to keep his voice low so the new hires didn’t hear. As far as they were concerned, Carmen was on a vacation, only the OGs knew the truth. 

“I-I didn’t mean to! I swear!” Fak’s voice lilted high, a shrill of nerves that had Richie’s eyes pinching in annoyance. “I thought he was going to the corner store to get more cigarettes, an-and then he didn’t come back for a while-” 

“-What’s a while?” Richie muttered, catching Tina’s eye through the glass. She set her rag down quickly, walking towards him. 

“I dunno… Fifteen, thirty minutes?” Fak mumbled. “Maybe closer to an hour now. B-But then I went to look for him, and he wasn’t there, so I asked the guy working and he said he hadn’t seen him, and-and now I’m driving around trying to find him. I-I’m shouting his name out the window and everything!” 

“He’s not a dog, Neil, he won’t-” Richie huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I know where he’s at.” 

“You do?” Fak perked up. 

“Yeah, I mean, no, but I-I’m pretty sure I know where he’s at since you fuckin’ told him where they were stayin’.” Richie rolled his eyes bitterly. “Just- Come over here and get me, alright? Let me call Pete- God, you and this fuckin’ kid, got me callin’ Pete. You’re killin’ me Neil Jeff.” 

Richie hung up the phone with a huff, looking up at Tina. “What’s goin’ on? Jeff alright? What’s he doin’?” She pressed. 

“Yeah, Fak-Fak fuckin’ lost him.” Richie rubbed his forehead in exasperation. “But, I think I know where he’s at. Have a pretty good idea, anyways.” 

Tina eyed Richie carefully. “Richie, you know I love that kid, you know I do. But if he’s fuckin’ with Mama,” Tina shook her head, lips pursing in fury. It was no secret how taken she was to you, even before the affectionate nickname that came with the pregnancy. 

“He’s not,” Richie shook his head. “He’s stupid, hot headed, a fuckin’ baby- all that. But… C’mon, T, you and I both know he loves her. He wouldn’t do anything to them. Do somethin’ to himself before that.” 

Tina paused but nodded, face softening. “So, you know where he’s at then? You don’t… You don’t think he’s gonna…” She couldn’t bring herself to say it, looking at the picture of Mikey with Richie, Tina, Ebra, and Marcus only a few months before he passed. Carmen had placed it at the front, a reminder of the legacy that was there before him, of The Beef and his brother. 

“No, I hope not.” Richie muttered, looking at his phone’s screen with dread, Pete’s contact on the screen gleaming back at him nearly mockingly. “I think I know where he is.” He sighed, pressing the button. 

Pete could feel his phone buzzing in his pants, ignoring it as he held the front door in a white knuckled grip. He hadn’t expected to see Carmen there, on his Ring camera, knocking on the door softly, softer than he expected given his manic looking state. 

“H-Hey, Carm,” Pete closed the door as casually as he could, only leaving a sliver open. “What, uh, what’s up, man?” 

“Hey, Pete,” Carmen could barely meet his gaze, suddenly overly aware of how disheveled he must have looked. 

“Uh, what-what brings you by?” Pete stuttered, heart picking up when he heard the soft thump behind him, Anchovy lurking behind his legs curiously. He gripped the door, shuffling his legs together, trying to close it on his frame so Anchovy wouldn’t slip by. 

“C’mon,” Carmen sighed, a tired look in his eye, too exhausted to even be pleading. “You know why I’m here, alright. I-I know they’re here.” 

“W-Who is? Sugar? Yeah, she-she’s off today.” Pete stiffened at the claim, swallowing nervously, trying to play it cool. Anchovy meowed loudly behind him, cringing when he was  given away by the cat. 

“Pete, don’t-” Carmen pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing in slowly, trying to calm the tears that threatened to fall. He could hear Anchovy, hear the sounds of the house- the home. Soft child shows, the hum of the dryer, all the things that made the house feel alive. Carmen would give anything to have his home sound like that again, the silence was beginning to drive him crazy. 

“Where is she?” Carmen looks up, his gaze much harder than before, a frantic look beginning to take over his sadness. 

“I, uh, I-I don’t-” Pete stutters, fingers tapping on the wood of the door anxiously. 

“-Pete, I really don’t want you to fuck with me right now, alright?” Carmen takes a deep breath, trying to swallow back his emotions that were already beginning to climb in his throat again. “I need to- I-I need to see her, Pete.” Carmen couldn’t bring himself to say your name, sure even the first syllable would have him in tears, breaking down on the front porch. 

Another meow, louder than before, came before Pete could answer. The soft scratching of Anchovy’s paws on the door, a demanding meow that Carmen knew all too well. He’d learned to drown it out, or try to. It became nearly a soundtrack to your sex life when you’d first gotten the cat, locking him out of the room so you two could fuck, only for him to yowl and scratch and demand to be let in. Carmen could remember how you’d giggle, pouting at him exaggeratedly to let him in. His heart fell with an ache that was warm yet still made him feel sick. 

Pete looked down at the cat, then back at Carmen, a hesitant grimace on his face. “Carm… You-You know I would,” He started. Carmen’s heart soared with hope, eyes wide, a near adrenaline rush of excitement shooting through his system. “But…You know I can’t.” 

Carmen’s heart crashed, shattered with the hope he’d finally begun to find, to feel again. “What the fuc- Pete, that’s… Pete, c’mon. C’mon. Yo-You gotta let me in. Let me in.” Anger surged through Carmen’s chest. He closed his eyes tight and tried to swallow it down. All he’d been is angry. For weeks now, it had been a never ending cycle of anger and sickness and distraught, all amplified to new heights the second you left. 

Carmen could feel himself spiraling, ears starting to ring again, rushing and roaring flashbacks flooding into his mind. Your face when you left, Teddy’s cries, the critic’s pursed lips, Sydney’s disappointed face when he forgot something again, Tina’s eyes cutting. Carmen turned, shaking his hand lightly, trying to do a breathing exercise he saw on YouTube, years ago when he’d moved to New York. 

His breaths were deep, shaky, but deep enough that it cleared his head, dulled the ringing. His mind wandered back, Richie’s voice ringing in his head. “You wanna get her back? Quit actin’ like a goddam baby. Quit actin’ like this isn’t your own fuckin’ fault. Like you didn’t do this shit to yourself, Cousin. Take some fuckin’ accountability, grow the fuck up, and get your motherfuckin’ shit together, alright? And maybe-maybe you’ll get your family back.” Richie’s voice rang clear through his mind from a few nights ago, when Carmen was especially mean and awful. 

“Hey, uh, you alright?” Pete hesitated, leaning towards Carmen, his grip on the door loosening. 

Carmen took a deep breath, running a hand over his face before he turned back towards Pete, eyes shining with tears that threatened to fall. “Pete, please? Please?” Carmen begged, voice soft, cracking at the end. “Please, jus-just let me see her? L-Let me talk to her? Just- Let me tell her tha-that I’m sorry. Please… I need to tell her I-I’m sorry. Don’t-” 

“-Carmen?” Sugar gaped, her voice coming from behind Pete. She pulled the door open, shocked gaze dropping into furious, jaw setting in a near snarl. “What the fuck are you doing here?” She hissed. 

“Why do you think I’m here, Natalie? Huh?” Carmen snapped in anger, rolling his eyes in annoyance. 

“Oh, you’ve got a lot of fucking nerve showing up here.” Natalie snapped back, pulling the door open and stepping out on the porch. She stood in front of her younger brother, arms crossed in a standoff. 

“Pete, go inside.” Sugar sneered, her gaze not moving from Carmen’s. She felt like they were children again, having a staring contest to see who got the last piece of gum from Donna’s purse, only this time, it was for worse. 

“Nat, I-” 

“-I got it.” Natalie said firmly. Pete didn’t argue with her, simply nodding, shutting the door softly behind them. Her eyes held Carmen’s gaze, both of them intense, furious at the other for other reasons. 

“You should be ashamed of yourself-” 

“-I am-” 

“-Mortified.” Sugar sneered, giving him a disgusted shake of her head. Carmen shifted, biting his own tongue to keep it from lashing out at her. “Do you know what I came home to the other night? You want me to tell you?-” 

“-No, I know-” 

“-No, I’m going to tell you.” Natalie snapped. “I came home after a very long shift because our head chef decided to, oh, I don’t know- disappear and go on a psychotic rampage apparently.” Natalie scoffed sarcastically. 

“And I walk through the door, ready for bed. Maybe a glass of wine, maybe a bath, maybe to finally catch up on my shows with my husband; and you know what I found instead?” Sugar took a step towards Carmen, intimidating him with her harsh glare. “I find my husband taking care of your baby because your wife is sobbing-” 

“-Don’t-” 

“-No, no. I mean, sobbing. A total broken mess on my kitchen table, because she said you,” Sugar jabbed a finger at Carmen. “Decided to come home and scream at her. Not only scream, but say some of the most volatile, disgusting things I’ve ever fucking heard in my life to your wife, the mother of your very much so still a newborn baby.” 

Carmen felt the familiar wave of nausea wash over him, swallowing back spit that pooled in his mouth with a cry that threatened to fall from his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, to look at her gaze anymore. It felt too judgemental, left him feeling too vulnerable and sick of himself under it. 

“So let me ask first; What the fuck is the matter with you?” Natalie sneered. 

“I don’t know.” Carmen’s voice was tight, jaw tighter, fighting a tremble that was threatening to break. “I-I don’t… I don’t fuckin’ know. I-I didn’t- I didn’t mean it-” A single tear fell, slipping out of the corner of his eyes, sliding down his cheek- the final crack in his demeanor. 

Carmen tried to fight it, deep breaths that burned his lungs and nose to control the tears, keep him from breaking here on his sister’s porch, but they wouldn’t stop. Carmen wasn’t sure how he had any tears left, after crying for days on end, how he hadn’t shriveled up his tear ducts. Yet here he was, broken sobs slipping out again. 

Sugar didn’t move. Arms still crossed over her chest, lips still fixed in a hard line, watching Carmen with intensity as he broke down, tears flowing in front of her. She didn’t comfort him, not that he expected her to. She didn’t try to give him words of encouragement, advice on how to right the wrongs like the others did. Instead, she kept a furious gaze on him, unmoved by the tears. 

“Please,” Carmen sniffed hard, running the back of his hand over his nose. “Please, Sugar, please. Ju-Just let me see Teddy. Let me se-ee her. Don’t-Don’t do this to me. Don’t ke-ep my kid away from me-” 

“-Me?” Sugar scoffed, pushing her hand into her chest. “Oh, no. No, no, no, no. Don’t you even start that shit, Carm. I’m not keeping your kid away from you, let’s make that clear.” 

Carmen’s breath hitched when she stepped towards him, toe to toe with him, teeth bared in a grit of anger. “I didn’t take your kid away. You know who did? Hm? You.” Natalie snapped, Carmen flinched at the cruelty of her words. “You did this, Carmen. You did every last bit of this. This is on you. No one else but you.” 

Carmen held in a cry that threatened to break out, face crumbling with tears. He rubbed his hand over his face, trying to soothe the burn and hide his distraught. “And you know something else? I know you don’t remember dad very well, but I do, ok? And lately, you’ve been acting just like him.” Sugar’s tone clipped, leaving a burning sting in Carmen’s chest at her words. 

“Yelling just because shit didn’t go your way? Do you know part of the reason mom’s so fucked up? Why everyone takes her side all the time and babies her? Uncle Jimmy and Uncle Lee? It’s because dad used to berate her, scream at her so badly- say some of the worst shit in the world because he was stressed out, that those guys would feel bad for her.” Sugar ranted. “And I promise you- promise you if I told Uncle Jimmy right now what you said, how I found your wife, he’d agree with me. Maybe even worse.” 

Carmen shifted, his heart squeezing in fear now. Jimmy loved you, always had. He held a special soft spot in his heart for you. Worse was probably right, and truthfully, Carmen would accept it- he deserved it. It wouldn’t be as bad as how he felt right now. 

Natalie held Carmen’s gaze, letting her words sink in. She lifted his hand when he started to talk. “I don’t-I really don’t want to hear it, ok?” Natalie shook her head. “And before you start trying to come up with some excuse-” 

“-I-I’m not-” 

“- I want you to know something. To hear it and really listen to it.” Natalie paused, waiting until his eyes met hers to continue. “I know you’ve been through a lot- We’ve been through a lot. But that doesn’t mean you get to just treat people like shit. That you can act like this and it’s ok.” 

“I know that.” Carmen’s jaw was tight, strangled words croaking out. 

“Then act like it.” Natalie snapped. “It’s not easy, none of this is easy, Carm. I mean… Do you know that every day- every single day, I wake up and something happens that’s shitty or rough, and I think about how easy it would be just to grab a bottle of wine or two. Drink myself unconscious like mom does. Just how easy that would be, how nice it would be just to drown myself out instead of face the issues.” 

“There’s days when MJ or Maggie or-or Pete just drive me fuckin’ nuts, and I want to pull my hair out, or scream, or Pete will do something that just pushes me right over the edge and I just want to rage.” Natalie continued, arms waving dramatically. “I want to throw in the towel, take the easy way out, rage, drink myself silly, scream at all of them until I feel better, but you know what? You know what I don’t do? I don’t do that.” 

Natalie crossed her arms, taking a breath to steady herself. “I don’t do that to them because I know how that feels.” Her voice cracked, just barely, enough to show the emotion that was hiding underneath. “I know how that felt. I know how that made me feel.” 

Carmen could feel his eyes brimming with tears again, too emotional to be embarrassed. Donna’s many red faced, slurred screaming tyrades came back to his mind. How he’d hide, try and stay quiet and invisible to avoid them. Even as he got older. 

“I know how that fucked me up. How it fucked them up. How it fucked you up, an-and Mikey up. I mean- how it…it fucked our whole life up!” Sugar laughed humorlessly, throwing her hands up in mock defeat. “I just… When I think about that, and about how it just ruined all of us. That’s the last thing, the very last thing, I’d ever want to do to my kids, to Pete, t-to anyone, really.” 

Carmen nodded, too overwhelmed with emotions to speak. His throat burned, scratchy and sore from screaming and crying. His chest was tight, constricting his lungs, stealing his breath. He was on the verge of an anxiety attack, maybe something worse, yet, he felt eerily calm in the moment. Still even under the shame and hurt her words brought. He sat on the porch, sure his knees would give out soon, head spinning and dizzy with this damning realization. 

 “You need to make up your mind. Make a decision, right here, right now.” Sugar continued behind him. Though he couldn’t see her, he knew her face was stoic to hide the hurt, hide the emotions. A classic Berzatto deflection trait. “You need to decide what you’re going to do to be better for your family. If you’re going to continue to be a selfish, piece of shit, or if you’re going to change; be better.” 

Carmen’s shoulders shuddered with his next breath, deep but not intentional; like he didn’t even know he did it. Too dazed and deep in thought, staring blankly ahead. “I can tell you,” Sugar stepped towards the door. “It’s not comfortable. It’s not easy. It is so hard some days. You have to fight for it every day, fight to break shit that was drilled into you, fight to recognize that some things you do, you don’t even mean to. It takes a lot of work, but… I’d rather fight every single day to be better, to be kinder and softer and more understanding for my family, than to not have them at all.” 

Carmen couldn’t stop thinking of you. How you were so naturally nurturing and sweet. You’d always been like that. You were loving and gentle freely. You’d always been so patient with him. It almost made him feel insecure, inferior, when he thought of it before, but now, he just wanted to return the favor. 

“You decide what you want to do, and then maybe- maybe you’ll get to see them again.” Sugar turned the door knob, pushing it open. “But today? Not a chance. Go get yourself together before you try and do this again.” Carmen flinched at the door slamming behind her, harder than he thought it would. Still, he didn’t move from his spot on the porch, head in his hands, deep in thought about his future, his past, everything. 

“There he is!” Fak’s voice was muffled through the car window, slowly pulling to a stop in Sugar and Pete’s driveway. 

Carmen looked up slowly, taking a slow, grounding exhale in, just as Richie and Fak climbed out of the car. “Cousin, thank fuckin’- You better be glad he’s here.” Richie glared at Fak. 

“I am!” Fak chirped defensively. 

Carmen stood slowly, turning one last time to look at the front door. He couldn’t see through the small privacy glass on the door, but he swore he could hear you- hear your voice. Soft and hushed, a little cautious mixing with Sugar’s reassuring one. It took everything in him not to turn and bust the door down, run inside and throw himself at your feet, begging for forgiveness. 

He knew that time would come. 

Instead, he walked to the car, sliding in the backseat, ignoring the confused looks Richie and Fak gave each other. “So, uh, did you-” 

“-Don’t ask that.” Richie cut off Fak with a bark of annoyance. “What’s the matter with you?” 

“Nothing! I just- I thought we all wanted to know-” 

“-Hey, Cousin,” Carmen muttered, staring blankly at the house. Richie hummed, turning to Carmen carefully. “What’s, uh… You-You said you had someone for me to talk to?” 

“Yeah,” Richie nodded slowly. “The therapist?” 

Carmen paused, swallowing slowly. “You…You think she’d see me now?” 

“Right now?” Richie lifted a brow. Carmen nodded slowly, still looking past him, eyes glued on the house. He swore he could see a figure move- your figure, peeking through the blinds before ducking back into the shadows. “Yeah, I’m sure she will. I can… I can call her. See what I can do.” 

“Thanks.” Carmen twisted his wedding band gently, the car jolting gently as Fak started to back out. 

Fak turned around, looking from the back window to Carmen with a hesitant grimace. “You ok?” He asked, his voice dropped to a low hush with Richie on the phone beside him. 

“No,” Carmen admitted, shoulders slumping in defeat. “No, I-I’m not, but… I wanna be.” Carmen looked at Fak, eyes glassy with emotion. “I gotta get my shit together. Gotta do better f-for my family.” 

Fak nodded slowly, pulling out onto the road, slowly shifting the gears back into place. The car began to roll, Carmen watching Sugar and Pete’s house disappear in the rearview. His heart tore, ripped right down the middle and split at the seams knowing he was leaving you, Teddy- his family behind. It took everything, every ounce of strength not to turn around, not to run back. It hurt, but he realized, this is what Sugar was talking about. 

So, Carmen went to the other side of town, to the small building where Richie’s therapist was. His counselor he’d started seeing a while back, when he was on his purpose journey. 

It was weird, weirder than Al-Anon. Carmen felt entirely too vulnerable sitting in that chair, having her stare at him and only him, nodding as he told his ‘story’- it felt weird to call it that. He didn’t want it to be his story, his defining qualities. No, Carmen wanted a new story, a better one with you and Teddy and his family. He’d told Dr. Mullins that. 

“I think that’s a great start, Carmen.” She nodded, giving him a soft smile. “So, tell me how you’d do that.” 

Carmen scoffed lightly, looking down at his hands. “I, uh, I don’t really know.” He admitted. “Kinda thought that’s what you were for.” 

“You’re right. I’m here to help you reach that goal, maintain it.” She nodded. “But in order to do that, I need to know a little more.” 

“Like what?” Carmen muttered. “I don’t really remember my dad and all the bad shi-stuff he’d do.” 

“You said you didn’t want that to define you, so let’s not talk about that.” She shook her head softly. “Let’s focus on what you want. What kind of life you’d want to live with your family.” 

Carmen’s knee bounced, taking a shaky breath. “I… I don’t want to lose control.” He admitted. “I don’t want t-to scream, and say shit I don’t mean, and-and to take it out on people who don’t deserve it.” He looked up at her. “I don’t want to do that again.” 

“Good.” Dr. Mullins nodded slowly. “Let’s start there.” 

[sydnikov]

Being Bold || S. Jarvis

Author: Sydney / @sydnikov

Pairing: Seth Jarvis / fem!Reader

Word Count: 7.4k

Summary: Seth has a crush on you. A bad one, and he makes it very obvious throughout the years he’s known you, though you’ve still never taken him seriously because of his immaturity and energetic personality. Much to his chagrin, you keep denying him—until one night, scorned by thoughts of your most recent ex who never knew how to touch you right, you give in to Seth’s advances.

Warnings: 18+ smut, unprotected p in v (birth control usage), oral (f receiving), very slight age gap (reader is 2 years older), alcohol mention, alcoholic consumption, minor mention of violence including blood, cursing

A/N: Wow. This one is something (it’s just smut with a small bit of plot don’t mind my dramatics). Here’s the jarvy debauchery as promised ✨ until the next, thanks for the support as always!

*Minors, you are responsible for your own media consumption. That being said, I will not block you for interacting with this fic or my blog, but always be aware of the content you choose to consume and the consequences it can have.

You’ve only seen Seth Jarvis as a kid.

Well, maybe ‘kid’ is too strong of a word to describe the immaturity gap. You’re only two years older than him, but it’s just that how he acts gives you the impression of a boy.

Not a man, but a boy. And it drives Seth absolutely insane.

He first meets you the year he joins the Hurricanes because you’re friends with the social media director (he later finds out you’re close to Lottie, Jesperi’s girlfriend, as well). He remembers the night vividly, what you were wearing, how soft your hand felt against the calluses on his own. How you looked at him, amusement and softness in the smile you flashed him.

Seth was smitten. Still is, actually, because you’re around more than ever. He sees you everywhere. After games, and even just around Raleigh because you live in the area.

He tries asking you out. Numerous times, but much to his chagrin you always turn him down.

“We just met, Seth.” A week after you first shake his hand.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend?” Well, he did. But, in his defense, he’d just broken up with her after he moved.

“I’m too old for you.” That one hurt, because that’s when he finds out you’re only two years older.

Seth is nothing if not persistent, though. He doesn’t give up even after all the rejections. He’s also pretty sure your reluctance is because you think he’s never touched a woman in his life.

Presumptuous, right? Andrei thinks so when Seth tells him after playing Call of Duty for several hours, but he recounts a conversation you had with Lottie (he still owes her and Jesperi a drink for that, actually) after Seth begged her to slide a good word in.

“You’re not into the mustache?” Lottie had giggled, taking a sip of her martini.

You were drinking a whiskey sour, which he knows because he bought it for you but had Lottie say it was from her. Your face burned red, either because of the alcohol or the question, he doesn’t know.

“No, no,” You laughed. “I like mustaches. And a nice stubble. They feel good on the thighs.”

“So what’s the problem? He’s in love with you, basically.”

“Isn’t he, like, I don’t know… Nineteen?” You had drawled, faking indifference while mixing around the olive in your drink with the little straw it came with.

“He’s twenty-two, babe.” She smirked. “Only two years younger.”

Lottie says she thinks you’re just wary of his immaturity. When he tries defending himself, Jesperi reminds him that he scored a goal the other night, pointed at you behind the glass where you sat with Lottie, and then proceeded to griddy.

Word on the street is that you weren’t impressed.

Nonetheless, Seth can’t change his personality for you, as much as he considers it. He thinks the sun rises and sets on you, but if you truly think you’re too good for him then he does have enough self respect to walk away and get over it.

But… He just doesn’t think that’s the case, here. You only seem reluctant—that’s it.

“You can’t force her to sleep with you, Jarvy.” Andrei tells him, breaking him out of his thoughts. 

“I know.” He groans, his chin falling into his hand. “What do I do, then?” And truly, he’s run out of ideas. He’s played silly, nice, gentleman… What else is there left for him to do, other than give up?

Seth thinks of your radiant smile, then groans to himself because fuck. He really doesn’t want to give up.

“Give her space?” Andrei suggests. “Have you tried, just… Going away?” He frowns for a moment, trying to think of the right words in English. “Not ‘going away’—”

“Space? You think she just needs space?”

“Well, not too much space—”

“Svechy you're a genius.” Seth interrupts, jumping out of his seat with renown vigor. “I’ll buy you a drink for this, remind me!” And then he’s springing up from the couch, grabbing his keys and sprinting out the front door.

Andrei blinks. Once, twice, then shakes his head with a laugh. He feels like he should warn you, then promptly decides this is not something he wants to get in the middle of.

Seth takes his teammate’s advice to heart, and gives you the space he thinks you need to process his zealous pursuit of you. He can tell it catches you off guard because he’s stopped following you around like a lost puppy, along with all of the antics normally associated with his creative flirting.

In fact, it’s such a sudden change from what you’re used to that it freaks you out. Hurts a little bit, too, because did he just wake up one day disgusted by the thought of you?

You tell yourself you’re disturbed because you miss the attention. It’s been a while since you’ve had a guy foam at the mouth for you, after all, so now that it’s gone you’re just going through withdrawals.

It’s more than that, though, and you won’t admit it to yourself but when you spy him chatting it up with other girls your stomach twists in a way that you know screams trouble.

Maybe it’s because you just ended things with your latest boyfriend - a bore of a man who couldn’t make time for you outside of his work - and the vulnerability of being alone yet again is getting to you.

Is Seth really so bad? You think about him sometimes, when you’re alone in your apartment or even right in front of him. You’ve always had a soft spot for him, sure, but nothing more than friendly affection.

You’re questioning this now, when his attention is no longer being directed at you, because you distinctly remember him getting into a fight with some other player on the ice, and that’s the first time you remember thinking man and not boy.

The team it was against escapes you, but you remember someone getting in Sebastian’s space with a raised arm, and then Seth came flying in with a fist to the opposing player’s face and a lot of colorful words. Your jaw had dropped as the referees tore them apart, his hair dripping with sweat and a cut welling with blood dripping down his forehead.

The moment forces you to think that maybe altogether, his energetic personality, a smile that never leaves his face, and the unwavering loyalty for his friends combined isn’t such a bad thing after all. The revelation leaves you shaking and feeling quite awkward when he’s around, or even just being brought up.

“Do you miss Scott?” Lottie asks you one day when you’re out for lunch at Perry’s - a steakhouse near her apartment in North Hills - referring to your aforementioned ex-boyfriend. Even his name is boring.

You laugh a little, unable to not roll your eyes though your ire isn’t directed at her. “No. I knew it wasn’t going to last when I got into it, anyways.”

“It’s been about two weeks since you broke up with him.” She says, a statement rather than a question. The look on her face tells you she’s trying to go somewhere with this. “Has anyone caught your eye lately? You’re too pretty to be single, you know.”

It’s obvious that Lottie is trying to ask if you’ve reconsidered Seth at all. It’s been the talk of your whole friend group, including the guys, that he’s suddenly stopped in his bold pursuit of you, though none of them think it’s because he’s lost interest.

“I don’t know.” You whine, begrudgingly stabbing a piece of potato with your fork. “I mean, he’s… Seth.”

“Seth, who has spent his entire time on the Hurricanes trying to win you over?” She says with a raised brow. “Just because he’s had his fun doesn’t mean he’s a bad guy.”

You don’t have a response to that, so instead you just nod. She is right, as much as you hate to admit it. Seth is a successful professional hockey player in his prime, of course he’s been with his fair share of women and will continue to do so as long as he’s single.

If that was your case you’d certainly be having fun, too.

“If his casualness towards dating really bothers you, you should just talk to him.” Lottie says after a moment. “He’s dying for you to speak to him, I swear it.”

You concede. “I’ll talk to him the next time I see him.”

Fortunately for you, that ‘next time’ doesn’t happen for quite a few more weeks, and when you do finally run into him again it’s when you’re slightly tipsy, drinking at a bar near to PNC Arena after the boys have won a game.

You don’t even take note of his presence at first, in the middle of gossiping with some of your friends who just so happen to know the players.

The gossip? Your ex-boyfriend, Scott, and his inability to make you come.

“I mean, he wasn’t bad or anything.” You say. “He had all the knowledge and stuff, just, like, couldn’t do anything. Y’know?” You’re slurring your words a little bit, but everyone around you nods like you’re making some big, important speech.

“So did you have to fake it?” Someone asks. You can’t even remember how Scott was brought up in the first place.

You giggle; you can’t help it. “Oh my god, yes, sometimes it was so bad I had to say I was cramping just to get him to stop trying.” That sends everyone into boisterous laughter, and in your slight drunkenness you can’t help but join in.

The song changes then, and it must be one everyone knows because it scatters you and the rest of the girls into smaller groups, some running to the dance floor while others wander back to the bar. You stay seated, however, content to watch as you sip your drink.

“Whiskey sour?” That’s when Seth makes his presence known. His voice murmured in your ear catches you off guard, and you jump a little as you turn to face him. “Seth.” You greet, not unkindly. “Yeah, but it’s only my second.”

Just as soon as he appeared, he’s jumping back up from his seat next to you. “I’ll get you a third.” You don’t have time to protest as he disappears, and your affection for this rambunctious man only continues to grow as he bounds back moments later, sliding you your drink with a smug grin.

“Thank you.” You smile, a little shy, a little bashful, as you take your first sip. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Anything for my girl.” Ah, there it is. You’re unable to hide the obvious roll of your eyes, but Seth’s smile doesn’t waver. “Not your girl, Seth. Just got out of a relationship, remember?”

“Oh, yeah.” He says. “Scott, right? Sounds like that was doomed from the start.”

You narrow your eyes, unsure of the knowing tone he’s taken on. “And how would you know?”

“He couldn’t make you come, yeah? What a tool.”

Suddenly, your throat is very dry, and you’re taking a very large sip of whiskey that has you wincing. So… He heard you say that, then. Is it hot in here? You have the sudden urge to fan yourself. Fuck fuck fuck. Seth, of all people, should not be making your thighs clench.

You don’t realize how silent you’ve gotten until he speaks up again. “I could make you, you know.”

That has you choking, and you quickly throw back the rest of your drink to soothe your throat. “What?” When you finally meet Seth’s eyes, he’s still grinning at you, though it’s more carnal. His eyes darken as he responds.

“Come. I could get you to come so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk the next day.”

Your reply is meek, knowing deep down inside you’re fighting a losing battle. “Have you even touched a girl before?” He scoffs, and you know as well as he does that he’s been with his fair share of women. It’s one of the reasons you’re so hesitant to take him seriously.

Seth is undeterred, though, as he slides even closer to you. You stare straight ahead, determined not to meet his eyes even though you’re positive there’s a red flush creeping up your neck as his breath tickles your ear.

He says your name, a low purr that’s almost mocking like he can see right through your bullshit because finally, he’s breaking through to you. “You know I have. None of them are you, though.”

You squirm in your seat as his hand creeps up your shoulders, grasping the back of your neck as he gently turns your head to face him. He squeezes reassuringly, and now you’re melting into his embrace as a gasp falls from your lips.

“I want you. You know that, baby.”

“Seth…”

“Let me show you, please?” Then those warm eyes are bearing into your own, and now you’re getting a glimpse of the boy you first met all over again. This time, though, instead of feeling innocent affection all you feel now is heat.

You were stupid to think the adoration he never hesitates to show for you wouldn’t win you over eventually.

Blinking owlishly, you move one of your hands to grip his arm, looking so dainty against the rugged muscle under his skin, and, well. You cave.

“Okay.”

Seth doesn’t expect you to give in so easily. He freezes, doesn’t move until you gain your wits back and pinch his thigh with a gentle roll of your eyes. “Are you just going to sit there or should I find someone else to entertain me?”

That gets him moving. It’s his turn to look anxious as he runs a hand through his hair, still processing the fact that he didn’t have to convince you more. He wasn’t actually expecting to get this far with you—quite literally, the woman of his dreams.

“Shit, okay.” He laughs, jumping out of his seat and lacing his fingers with yours. “You’re serious, then.”

“Somehow.” You deadpan. Somehow your legs are still clenching and your heart is beating a little too fast to be normal. “Don’t fuck it up.”

He looks to you, a little terrified, and you can’t help but break the irritated front and send him a small smile, squeezing his hand reassuringly even as your words are all snark. Truthfully, you’re also scared, but not of the sex, but rather the developing feelings that might grow deeper afterwards.

You just got out of yet another disappointing relationship. You don’t want whatever this is with Seth to end with the same result.

He does a good job of distracting you from your destructive thoughts, though, as he pulls you out of the bar like two teenagers trying to sneak away from their parents. You suppose it’s not unlike that same feeling because Jesperi catches your eye as you exit the doors, and he sends you such a shit-eating grin it has you ducking your head to avoid his obnoxious stare.

You suppose you do owe him a favor now after all.

For the first time ever, standing outside in the biting cold, Seth kisses you as you’re waiting for an Uber. You being busy trying to look like you’re not about to go hook up, he suddenly grabs you by the waist and smooths his lips against yours so good your toes curl.

“Fuck.” He murmurs into your mouth. “I can’t get enough of you.” His teeth catch your bottom lip, and you unabashedly moan. You run your hands up his chest, around his shoulders, and to the back of his neck where you card your fingers through thick strands of hair, tugging from the roots.

“Seth…” You gasp when he detaches his lips from your own only for him to smooth down your jawline, then down to your neck where he sucks wet kisses into your sensitive skin. “Fuck, we’re in public.” With a hiss, you pull him away from your neck and pointedly ignore the wetness in your panties when he groans at the loss of contact.

He looks at you like a baby getting its favorite toy taken away, and you can’t ignore how his desperation turns you on wildly. It takes everything in you to not let him go back to feasting on your neck.

“When’s the Uber getting here?” You ask after a moment. You’re both panting, tipsy from the taste of each other’s lips as you try to catch your breath.

Seth pulls out his phone, and as you admire the way the light illuminates his face you completely miss the words coming from his mouth.

You flush. “Say that again?” Seth grins wickedly, brings you in by the back of your neck and kisses you, then pulls away too soon for your liking. “The Uber. It’s right here.” He then wraps an arm around your waist, digging his fingers deliciously into your skin, and leads you into the Uber as it arrives right on time.

He rattles off his address to the driver, then settles back into the seats. His arm snakes around your shoulders, and you hum your appreciation as you sink into his chest. You feel him kiss the top of your head in response.

You could fall asleep, if you really wanted to. The sudden switch in mood from carnal desperation to gentle affection would give you whiplash if you weren’t so at ease resting against him like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

The drive passes fairly quickly, and Seth doesn’t stop touching you as you make your way up the elevator to his apartment. His hand sneaks to your ass, giving it a squeeze before you slap his arm away.

“Cameras!” You hiss, though it’s with little mirth as a small smile curves up your lips. Seth merely laughs, slides his hand back down to rest on your lower back. “They don’t care. Now c’mere.”

You make out until you can’t breathe, and as you pull away it’s just in time as the elevator doors open. Your heart rate picks up, and you hide your nerves as he grabs your hand and practically sprints out of the elevator with you.

“We have all night, you know.” You giggle, absentmindedly rubbing your thumb over the top of his hand. Seth groans playfully, but his words strike you as serious even as he masks it with a grin.

“Not long enough, babe.”

You don’t respond, partly because you don’t know how to and partly because he’s just unlocked his door, and you’re too busy taking in his apartment. You’ve been to Andrei’s house numerous times, Jesperi and Lottie's apartment, Jordan’s for his famous house parties… It’s just now that you’re realizing you don’t actually know Seth all that well.

What you do know, though, is that he’s eyeing you like he can’t wait to devour you, and the reminder that you don’t even know his favorite color exits your mind as you sidle up to his chest, grabbing him by the lapels of his suit to drag his lips down to yours.

“Time to impress me, lover boy.” You hum into his mouth, fighting a shiver when he nips at your bottom lip. Seth chuckles, one of his hands sliding down your back to squeeze your ass, the other tugging your hair back to expose your neck.

He kisses your cheek once, twice, mouths at your collarbone with teasing bites that have your eyes fluttering shut, and then it’s like he loses patience as suddenly his hands are picking you up by your thighs and curling your legs around his waist.

You squeak in surprise. “Seth!” You admonish, because of course it turns you on that he’s able to throw you around effortlessly. He seems to have that effect on you.

Seth maneuvers the two of you through his darkened apartment with ease, knowing the route to his bedroom like the back of his hand. Your attempts at distracting him include sucking a bright red hickey on his neck, fully intending it for it to be bright enough that his teammates give him hell for it the next day.

Once he pushes open the door with his foot, he brings you to the foot of his bed and unceremoniously drops you. You scoff with indignation at his manhandling, though you know he knows you like it if the smirk on his face is anything to go by.

A tiger stalking its prey, Seth crawls on top of you and meets your eager lips in another kiss. His hands smooth down the curves of your hips to your thighs, slowly spreading them open. He mumbles something, and you miss it completely.

“Hm?” You run your hands through his hair, enjoying the way the black strands are moussed from your touch. Your shirt is also already halfway up your torso as he helps you tear it off. “I said I’ll wear your marks proudly. My girl.” He coos, flicking open the clasp of your bra and immediately moving down to your chest.

“Fuck.” He groans. “They’re beautiful. You’re beautiful.”  Your laugh quickly turns to a gasp as he sucks your right nipple into his mouth.

Your other nipple is taken by his fore-finger and thumb, rolling the sensitive nub between the calloused pads. Between him sucking on one tit and playing with the other, you’re practically a whimpering mess, trying to simultaneously wiggle out of his grip yet get closer at the same time.

“Seth,” You whine. “I need you.” You’re admitting it openly, foregoing coyness in favor of your own pleasure. Yeah, so what? You like this overgrown puppy of a man, and you really want to fuck him. Pulling his head back by his hair, you eagerly slam your lips back together.

“Need me?” He grins against your lips. “Where do you need me? Gotta be specific, babe, because I can be here,” He emphasizes a quick squeeze to your tit. “Here,” The other hand smooths over your ass. “Or here...” He trails off into a low rumble, parting your eager thighs.

Based on the tortured groan he lets out, you assume he can probably feel the wetness that’s soaked through your jeans. You’re too turned on to be embarrassed, though.

“Damn it, Seth, just touch me.” You hiss, keeping his hand pressed between your thighs while the other is already working open the button of your jeans. “Fucking tease.” You mutter, though it’s light-hearted and he knows it based on his snicker.

He helps you peel off the rest of your jeans, throwing them somewhere behind you. It’ll be fun trying to hunt for those in the morning. When he sees the dainty white lace covering your pussy, he lets out his most needy sound yet.

“Shit.” He breathes. “Wore these for me? So pretty. My pretty baby.” He murmurs as he thumbs the lace, running two fingers over the soaked fabric. If you could see, you’d guarantee his pupils are blown wide.

Your hips rise at the friction, wanting more. And because you’re still hellbent on resisting him, apparently, you roll your eyes, spitting out your next words. “You knew I was coming home with you, didn’t you? Asshole.” Though your words are all snark, your tone screams laughter.

Strangely enough, the banter gets you off more than any dirty talk in the world. It’s familiar, relaxing, and Seth clearly doesn’t mind either as he merely chuckles. “I just know you that well, don't I?” The look on his face offers no room for argument.

And, well, you suppose he isn’t wrong. You are here in his bed at the end of the day, right?

You grumble something that to his ears sounds like ‘shut up’ and then you’re sliding your panties down your thighs, letting him take care of the rest as, like your other clothes, he tosses them somewhere behind him.

If you thought the sight of your covered pussy would get the best reaction from him, it’s nothing compared to the way his entire body freezes at seeing it bare.

You’d had a feeling something big was going to happen after Lottie's sly words, so you took the liberty of shaving everywhere just two nights before. You’re glad for that, as Seth is looking at the heat between your legs like he doesn’t know where to start.

Teasing him in a normal setting about not knowing how to touch a woman is one thing, but making a remark now as anxious anticipation is all over his face just feels wrong.

You do like him, after all—quite a bit, you’re coming to find.

Reaching out your hand, you wait for him to grasp it before you pull him down to hover over your awaiting form. “C’mere, baby.” The pet-name slips without thought, but you can’t make yourself regret it because the way his face lights up is a look you won’t forget any time soon.

He laughs a little as your eyes finally meet, like he can’t believe he’s actually about to fuck you and you’re going to let him. “Tell me how to touch you?” He asks, not a demand but more of a request.

Taking his right hand, you lead him down the length of your body, over your breasts and down your stomach until your hands are resting just below your navel. “You know how to find the clit?” You tease, partly joking and partly serious.

Seth scoffs like the very thought offends him, and the mild dig does its job of making him forget his earlier nervousness.

“Of course I know where the fucking clit is,” He replies, pointer and middle finger already sliding down and gathering the slickness lathered in your lower lips. “Scott is such a dumbass.”

Well, it seems the familiar, cocky Seth is back now.

“...didn’t even realize what a bombshell he had right in front of him.” You miss the first part of his sentence because he did, in fact, find your clit, and unlike your ex, knows exactly how to touch it.

Your mouth opens into an ‘o’, and Seth hums a pleased noise as his fingers work your sensitive clit into a swollen, throbbing mess. Your hips move in time with the flicks of his fingers and you don’t even realize you’re panting until Seth leans forward and licks a stripe all the way from your navel down to your soaked opening.

When you start bucking into his mouth, he grabs your hips and holds them down to the bed, forcing you to take it. You whine, hands finding purchase in his hair as his tongue laps at you like you’re his favorite meal. He dips into your entrance in time with the quick circles he’s drawing over your clit, and oh, suddenly you’re much closer than you thought.

“Tastes so good.” You hear him grunt. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“Seth,” Gasping, you can’t decide if you want to keep him close or shove him away. “Shit. Seth, fuck, I’m close.”

“Yeah? Already?” Your confession only seems to reinvigorate his efforts, and the next thing you know two long fingers are sliding their way into your cunt. “Gonna come for me?”

Quicker than you expect he finds the sensitive wall of flesh inside you, and his fingers curl up against it which sends you keening. Loudly. You slap a hand over your mouth, but Seth quickly tears it away.

“Nobody here but me and you.” He grins, and just to rub it in, presses a hot kiss to your clit. “I wanna hear you scream.”

“What a gentleman.” You manage to squeeze out, and in revenge for your snark he immediately sucks your clit between his lips and rapidly curls his fingers inside you.

Seth watches with hooded eyes as your own squeeze shut, teeth biting into your kiss-swollen lips while your hands tug at his hair. Your thighs are shaking on each side of his head, and suddenly he wants you to come for him like his life depends on it.

“You gonna come?” He asks. Your walls clamp around his fingers and he knows you’re close. “Yeah? Can you come for me? I know you want to.”

Your entire body shakes all while he keeps you tethered to the bed. Your mind, though, is floating, and you can practically see white as his lips don’t stop sucking, his fingers don’t stop curling, and it’s too much but also not enough and you want to shove him away yet demand he never stops touching you.

And your high is right there, you can practically taste it, but your body is wound so tight and you can’t remember the last time you’ve let go that you remain stuck right on the edge.

There are tears leaking from the corners of your eyes as you tug at his hair. Seth meets your eyes, looks a little concerned after reading the desperation on your face, and then understands when a broken moan tumbles past your lips.

Seth, a little shit as always, brings you back to the edge with his words alone. “It’s been so long, hasn’t it?” He slips in a third finger. “Bet you haven’t had anyone make you feel like this. Just me. Hopefully always me.”

“Seth,” You croak. “Please.”

“I’ve got you.” He urges. “Let go for me. You’re right there, I know it. You’re so tight, fuck, there you go.”

His mocking words echo in your mind with the low drawl of his voice, dark eyes staring at you like you’re a feast, and his damn fingers curling just right against your spongy wall.

His free hand suddenly moves, presses down over your lower abdomen, and oh. “Such a good girl.” Seth croons as you fall apart.

It’s the last thing you hear as your vision goes white, and the heat in your body explodes with wave after wave of ecstasy pumping from the tips of your toes all the way to the hair on your head. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you’re pretty sure you’re making some sort of strangled noise as you ride your high that seems to go on forever.

By the time you come back, your legs are still shaking and Seth is still gently stroking your inner walls with careful circles around your clit. He's my gazing up at you with pure, unbridled adoration and the emotion in his eyes makes your heart thump.

You don’t even realize your fingers are still tangled in his hair until you have to let go because they’re cramping, and then Seth finally removes his fingers and slowly crawls back up your body.

You’re still catching your breath when he presses a long, soft kiss to your lips. “How was that?” He questions almost shyly. His need for reassurance might have had a past you rolling your eyes, but right now all you want to do is hold him and thank him for making you feel so good.

Especially after Scott. Asshole.

You shudder, clit still throbbing as you wrap your arms around his heavy shoulders and bring his weight down on top of you. His very hard cock brushes against your hip with the movement, and you’re reminded that he hasn’t had any semblance of relief yet.

“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s definitely weird to thank someone after they eat you out, right? Probably, but you don’t really care.

His lips brush against your cheek in response, heart swelling at the gentle vulnerability you’re showing him. He’s planning on running to the bathroom to get you a towel, but freezes when he feels your hands peeling off the suit he totally forgot he was wearing.

“Babe?” He mumbles, a little confusingly, but all you do is kiss him and that shuts him up. He doesn’t break contact even as he shrugs off the rest of his suit, peeling off his undershirt until he’s more than halfway bare. Your hands carve lines over the hard planes of muscle on his chest, scratching lightly with your nails over his nipples which has him flinching into your mouth. Snickering, you make your way down the rest of his chest, past his waist, under his boxers, and then you’re wrapping your hand around his hot, pulsating dick.

Seth groans, almost collapsing on top of you as you squeeze lightly. It’s a dream come true, him touching you and now you touching him. He wants to close his eyes at the feeling of your gentle strokes, but he insists on keeping them open to watch the enraptured look on your face.

Then your other hand moves, unbuttoning his slacks and sliding them over his hips and that’s when he jerks back to the present. “Sweetheart,” He gasps. “You… You don’t have to.”

You smile at his breathlessness. “You don’t want to fuck me?” You pout, though it quickly turns back into a grin when his eyes widen in panic. Another day you’d blow him, when you aren’t so desperate to get him inside you.

Seth briefly removed himself from on top of you to lean over his bed, rifling through his nightstand drawer. You assume he’s looking for a condom and that his efforts fail when he eventually closes the drawer with a curse.

He looks back to you, all messy hair, swollen lips, and glistening eyes. “I don’t have a condom.” He informs regretfully.

“I’m on the pill, if you’re…” You trail off, unsure. “If you’re okay with that. And I’m clean.”

“Hell yes I’m okay with that.” He breathes. His cock hardens even more at the thought of feeling you raw, if even possible. “I’m clean too.” And then he’s kissing you again, long and slow and deep, and you’re happy to let him take the lead as your brain is still trying to play catch-up from your orgasm.

Seth eventually breaks away only to reattach to your neck, nipping at the skin likely already covered in his marks, hands now making their way back down your body. He playfully flicks your nipple as he does so, grins when you flinch upwards.

“Have I told you how much I love your body?” He says in-between kisses, almost like an afterthought. He’s in the middle of spreading your thighs open, fingers slipping through your leftover wetness and brushing your clit when you respond.

You help in his endeavors, raising your legs to curl over his hips as he situates himself on top of you. “You’ve mentioned it a few times, I think.” You reply, breath hitching when his cock presses against you.

“It’s perfect.” He continues, like he didn’t even hear you. “You’re perfect.” He wraps his hand around his dick, guides the head to your entrance and pushes in. All words escape you, and your head falls back with a moan.

He sinks into you with a pleasurable sound of his own, eyes squeezing shut as your warmth envelops him. Sucking in a breath through his teeth, he thrusts slowly into you, bottoming out. “So tight.” He hisses.

“Oh, fuck,” You whimper, digging your nails into his back. Seth stills, thinking he's hurting you. “Shit, am I—”

“Don’t you dare stop.” You quickly interrupt, crying out when his tip rubs against your sensitive inner walls just right. Seth relaxes at your words, a cocky grin spreading over his face. “Sorry, sorry.” He chuckles, picking up the speed of his thrusts.

Like before when his tongue was in you, it doesn’t take you long before noises are escaping your throat uncontrollably or for your legs to tremble from where they’re wrapped around his waist. The sensations are more because you’re already so sensitive, so strung-up, and so eager for another release that you give up any pretenses of trying to play cool.

Your head lolls back onto the bed, all strength leaving your body as Seth happily does all the work on top. Quick, short pants are coming from his mouth, and his chest is heavy where it presses down against yours. With every thrust his pelvis is rocking into your clit, sending sparks up your body as you clench rhythmically around his cock. It’s burning you from the inside-out in the best way possible, and very quickly you’re already approaching the edge.

You try to express your impending release, but all that’s able to come from your mouth is one long moan. Seth, somehow, knows exactly what that noise means, and is suddenly pulling out. “What the fuck?” You practically shout with indignation, glaring at the man on top of you with squinted eyes.

Ever the comedian, he only laughs at your irritation. “Hold on, bear with me.” His hands grab your waist, then rolls you over onto your stomach. He raises your hips, pushing down on your lower back into an arch, and all previous complaints leave you as he’s unable to help himself and runs his hands over your ass.

You’ll think later on why him being unfazed with your attitude makes your heart warm.

“Spread your legs for me.” He murmurs, tapping at the junction between your thighs. You do as he says, and shiver when his fingers go to part your cunt once you’re open. You can’t see his face, but imagine the look on it to be one of enrapturement. You turn your head finally, pressing your hips down onto his hand where it remains touching you.

Your earlier guess was right; his pupils are blown wide, jaw hung open just a little bit at having this view of you from behind. Meeting his eyes, you stare imploringly.

While the sudden need for him scares you, you don’t shy away. Rather, you meet his desires head-on in the form of pushing your hips back against him when he finally pushes in, smothering a whimper as his body looms over yours.

Neither of you talk in favor of letting your pleasure speak for you. The new position feels more intimate, oddly enough; his chest presses onto you from every angle, and you can feel his breath every time he pants into your ear. At the same time his arms are wrapped around your waist, hands kneading at the flesh of your hips while he thrusts into you from behind.

All too soon you’re reaching your peak just like before, and the buildup feels so sweet because he’s hitting you deeper, unrelenting in his thrusts despite how your arms collapse from underneath you. Seth doesn’t flinch, merely picks you back up and presses a hand to your abdomen to keep you there.

With your arms free, you realize that your clit is feeling neglected, and as you sneak your right hand in-between your legs he’s suddenly beating you to it, slapping your own hand away and replacing it with his own.

When it’s all said and done, you don’t think you’ll ever forget the feeling of his fingers circling your sensitive nub so deliciously. Between his dick rutting into your sweet spot mercilessly and the rough pads of fingers stimulating your clit, your eyes are slamming shut with your mouth opening in a silent scream as for the second time that night, Seth is sending you into release.

He carries you through it with noncommittal praise while you’re lost in white noise and starry vision. The sight of you crumbling beneath him sends sparks throughout his body, and it doesn’t take long between the rhythmic clenching of your cunt and the pleasured sounds falling from your lips for him to flood your insides with his cum.

“Oh, fuck—fuck, fuck, fuck.” Seth loses any semblance of restraint of trying to be gentle, as his last thrusts rattle your frame and have you whimpering by the time he’s done releasing, your overstimulated clit throbbing in time with the slow rocks of your calming bodies. “So good. You did so good, yeah?” Seth is rumbling into your ear, voice hoarse and tired as he carefully slides out of you. Eyes still closed, you flinch at your sensitivity. “Sorry, babe.” He whispers, having to regroup for a moment as his softening cock meets cool air after being buried inside you.

You attempt to speak, but the only sound that leaves your mouth is a groan as your aching limbs stretch. You don’t bother opening your eyes yet, either, perfectly content to lay in your post-orgasmic pleasure and not think about the future.

Seth doesn’t let you wallow for long, however, as he’s suddenly leaning over you again. “Can you turn over? I have a towel, it’s warm.” He asks, back to shy and unsure. Now that you’re not caught up in the throes of sex, he’s not quite sure how you’re going to act. “You also need to go pee.”

Your default moods of snarky and mildly irritated is what he gets. “No.” You grumble, though it’s not mean as you bury your head in his pillow, still flat on your stomach. Having no energy to move, you don’t expect Seth to do anything about it, either.

He raises a brow at your sass, not quite sure if he should be relieved or concerned. Huffing, he makes a grab for your hips. “Guess I’m carrying you to the bathroom, then.”

“Seth!” You shriek as he attempts to manhandle you, a burst of energy fueling your efforts in trying to get away. “You little shit, no, fine, fine!” And Seth wins just like that, as you concede the battle and roll from your stomach onto your back. You glare as he leans over your torso, bringing the towel down to clean up the mess in-between your thighs.

His confidence comes back, little by little, as the banter returns naturally and your dynamic doesn’t change despite indulging in your bodies’ most primal desires. “You’ll thank me in the morning.” He grins when he finishes, sliding off the bed to bring it back to the bathroom. You follow, doing your business so quickly you leave before he’s done with his own.

When he comes back you’re in the same position he left you in, like you never left. “So I’m staying the night, then?” You prompt as he goes to sit next to you, a little teasing, a little serious. Where do you stand with him now?

He shrugs, masking his nervousness. “If you want to.” He sinks his teeth into his lip, eyeing you from where he sits. He can’t tell what you’re thinking, and it slightly unnerves him.

Your mysteriousness is also what captivated him about you in the first place too, though. With that, he realizes he wouldn’t have gotten this far if you hadn’t liked him at least a little bit. Taking a deep breath, he takes the bold route, grabs your hand, and does what he does best:

Be bold.

“I want you to stay though, like, really badly.” He admits, meeting your curious eyes. You suck in a breath at his words, and Seth continues. “You know I like you. A lot. And I think you like me too.”

As if knowing he’s waiting for your reassurance, you reply quietly. “A little presumptuous of you, yeah?”

Seth grins, and you can’t help but wonder how you were able to resist it for so long.

“So… You’ll stay?” He tilts his head, reminding you of a puppy. You go to respond, maybe with another sarcastic reply, and he seems to know this even before you do. “Please?”

And, well, you can’t deny him when he’s looking at you like that; soft, brown eyes full of adoration gazing at you like you’ve hung the stars and the moon. “Okay.” You relent, grinning happily as he mouths something like ‘fuck yeah’ and rolls over next to you.

“Do you want to shower?” He suddenly asks, after you’ve already curled underneath his sheets with your body pressed against his. He makes a nice furnace, and you’re mad at yourself for not indulging in him sooner. “Because I have a big one. It has these jets that spray from different angles, and you can go alone or I can join or—”

“Seth.” You interrupt, poking his chest to get his attention. He gulps at the amused expression on your face. “Stop talking.”

“Okay.”

It’s silent for several minutes, and you’re almost asleep until he speaks up again.

“Can I be your boyfriend now?”

“Oh my god.” You hiss. “If I say yes will you let me go to sleep?”

You can’t see his face but you know for a fact there’s a stupid grin on it. “You know, I think you’re gonna fall in love with me one day.”

“Keep dreaming, babe.” You say.

But you both know he won’t be dreaming for long.

A/N: I like this one a lot tbh. But my lord I didn't realize how repetitive writing smut is so I need to have at least a little plot established before I can just jump into it 😭 regardless, I hope this is everything y’all wanted in terms of me writing for him and more! Please be sure to reblog and comment, thank youuuuu

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[currymanganese]

to continue my rambling in the tags...

Maybe Manny was a former boxer, Gary is a former athlete again, maybe Angel knows Taekwondo, what if Syd's capacity to stab someone, accidentally or not, comes back up again, what if Jimmy really has some mafia connections and has hired toughs, what if Marcus used to play American Football.....What if Nat is not above getting her vendetta against Francie out in blood? 👁️👄👁️

What if they recreate a big Ballbreaker Brawl on the show between The Found Family at the Bear and the most ornery and stubborn/violent and ignorant of the Angry Faks IRL at The Bear when they try to come break his balls for Claire? and after The Bear crew absolutely shellacks the Faks and sends them packing they trudge off to the ER and Claire has to patch them up while furiously berating them, because she's actually not that bad of a person to sanction the Faks actions and does in fact take her Hippocratic oath seriously; they way she stared at Neil and Ted in the hospital told me she had buyer's remorse about ever involving them in her love life / may have realized she shouldn't have Called Carmy in that way by getting his number from Fak, but I digress.

Both parties decide not to involve law enforcement and pursue charges against each other because at the end of the day, the Faks are pseudo family, and they were in the wrong anyway and Jimmy's people aren't narcs, because he has enough skeletons in his closet and doesn't want coppers poking around the place, thank you very much.....But what if on that day, that great day, when Carmy's balls failed to break, and his cock nevermore shall be blocked, he and Sydney get their happy ending and the Faks finally learn boundaries and learn when to fucking stop?

Mikey would be so proud, smiling down on them from heaven 'n shit. 💘🥹

P.S. What if the Ballbreaker Challenge Brawl IRL Edition happens when the Faks try to crash their wedding and beat Carmy tf up? It'd be so cathartic to see The Bear crew go postal on them (except Neil and maybe Ted because they seem harmless / to genuinely like Carmy) and the rest of the Faks, i.e. Sammy and Francie et. al are all played by pro wrestlers because they're from an old wrestling dynasty in-story???? By then the general audience would be so fed up of the Faks it'd be fanservice to see Carmy and co tan their hides and literally Shoo out the Clowns. 😭😭.

@thoughtfulchaos773 @ciaomarie @devisrina @moodyeucalyptus @caiusmarciuscoriolanus @post-woke @whenmemorydies @brokenwinebox

I'm so sorry.

Sure I'm delusional but the Claire thing this season read like it represented an addiction to me. He cut Claire cold turkey like he cut cigarettes. Children of addicts can sometimes take the personality traits of addicts. The first episode showsClaire taking an inhale of Carmy's cigarette and cuts to Carmy (without being prompted mind you) to apologize to Sydney. Carmy promises he won't abandon her but that's a lie when he shows he's still thinking about Claire and still distracted by his addiction.

He spends his time painstakingly thinking about Chef David and Claire throughout the season. I wonder why Carmy can't say sorry to Claire and move on? Mind you Natalie called Carmy spending time with her 'moderately' healthy.

I'm still back and forth on he Claire thing coming to conclusion in 3x09 APologies, this episode is the most syd/claire/carmy triangle of the season with a love song as Carmy and SYdney ponder. 3x09 also opened up with a narrator who talks about film and reading between the lines as well as deceiving the audience. Since we're in carmy's brain, is he deceiving himself with Claire? Is Carmy self-sabotaging his relationship with Sydney throughout the show's core story?

At the end of 3x09, Carmy takes the prayer card from Mikey's funeral and reads it, and when he puts it down, it's next to Claire's scrunchie- which eventually blurs. In the back of the card is Psalm 23, and interestingly enough, there's a book that exists called Psalm 23: the cure to addiction.

[meazalykov]

baby pink

sydney lohmann x reader

apart of the baby pink series

after winning against aston villa, your excitement couldn’t be contained. 

as a center-back defender, scoring a golozo at arsenal had your team and the crowd blown in joy. 

winning mvp for the match made you feel appreciated as well. this is your third season at arsenal and you've gotten this quite a lot, but your gratitude still shows.

as you're heading into the locker rooms, you look down at the pastel pink and baby blue kit over your body, the colors making you smile. baby pink and baby blue were your two favorite colors. so, having a kit in those colors– made exclusively for the women’s team too– made you happy. 

after tonight, you’ll fly to germany  to visit your girlfriend sydney lohmann, who plays at bayern munich. your three-year anniversary was coming up and nothing could ruin your happy mood about it, not even the yellow card you received in the match. 

after the match, exhausted but happy from the win, you scroll through the photos taken during the game by arsenal’s photographers. usually, they will send the photos in a big digital file. 

one photo in the pink and blue kit made you look like a star. you were– but you wanted to post and highlight that picture immediately. 

(pretend that you're in the picture in replacement of emily fox)

y/n.l/n

liked by leahwilliamsonn, and 67,712 others

y/n.l/n the love of my life (this kit) 🩵🩷

comments

sydneylohmann so what am I.. chopped liver?

stanwaygeorgia HAHHAHA

laurafreigang ya

wosofan783 sydney you're still the love of my life dw ☺️

sydneylohmann I will ignore that caption

laurafreigang wow sydney turned into a football kit?

buehlklara yes.

gunnerwillamso32927 nobody is ruining y/n's love for pink

woso.com THE CAPTION BYE

fcbfrauenluvrr come to Munich ❤️

~view all 3,901 comments~

you giggled at all of the comments between you, your german friends, and your girlfriend. you miss sydney all of the time and can't wait to be with her.

there is a flower boutique down the street from your apartment, almost every week you'll receive a delivery of a bouquet of flowers. all from sydney-- and all pink.

sydney leaves the sweetest notes all of the time. you're grateful that your girlfriend makes an effort to show you how much she loves you from thousands of miles away.

you're enjoying the rest of your time at arsenal, since this is your last season. all of your fans don't know it yet, but some are suspecting that you'll join sydney in munich next year-- since there is no updates on a contract renewal with arsenal.

the next morning, you woke up to a knock at your door.

you groaned as you quickly rubbed your eyes and put your pink slippers on. walking out of the bedroom, you walked into the hallway into your living room to open up the front door.

the first guess of who could be at your door was caitlin and katie, who lived in the same apartment complex as you. sometimes, they come and eat breakfast with you because of how lonely you can get.

sometimes it feels like everyone on the team has a companion or partner, which leaves you feeling left out sometimes. luckily, you won't have to feel fomo for much longer with bayern's offer for you to join their club. thanks to references from sydney and georgia.

"hey cai-" your voice cut off when you saw a familiar face at the door.

a woman, early to mid 40s, named josie worked down at the flower boutique down from your apartment complex. she is a face you see every week at your door-- holding a huge pink bouquet.

"goodmorning josie." you smile as you, softly, take the bouquet of flowers out of her hands.

your hair was messy, considering that you gotten out of bed. however, josie has seen you looking worse during mornings where you're sick or tired from games the nights before.

"goodmorning, sydney got these for you." Josie smiled.

"yeah-- these are beautiful *sniff* and smell great too." you took a smell of the flowers. sydney got you pink flowers all of the time, just as you sent her red bouquets to her house in munich, but she changes the flowers up.

josie nodded and smiled at your observation of the flowers.

"i'm going to the airport soon to see her too-- so I'm surprised she sent me these." you commented.

"you shouldn't be-- its tuesday. have safe travels." josie says, smiling before walking away from your door.

sydney did send you your flowers every tuesday, which josie is right about.

you placed the flowers inside of a pink vase before pulling out the note card in the middle of the flowers.

"can't wait to see you later, honigbiene

-syd <3"

<3

[bartonbones]

carmy: immediately apologizes as soon as he's out of the fridge, tells richie i'm sorry, i love you, agrees with sydney that his communication is bad, tells ebra "don't worry, i've got this" and worries that he's fucking things up, invites sydney to an industry event to help her make connections, follows up on life events (comforts marcus, asks how sydney's dad is feeling about her move), defends his ex to his friends, wonders if he should've been more present around his family despite the fact that mikey kept rebuffing him, tries and tries and tries and apologizes and tries and constantly searches for reassurance that he's not ruining things for everyone around him even though the environment he's putting himself through is a direct recreation of decades long traumas that have ruined his self-esteem and nervous system

tumblr: look at this psychopath. he's becoming exactly like his abusers. there is no difference between carmy and a man who tells his employees they should kill themselves. he rose his voice at tina and thrice was rude to sydney...he should be killed for his crimes

[whyamimherehelp]

Saw someone on tiktok say that Carmen basically became Chef David with Sydney and it pissed me off so bad.

Did Carmen shut her out creatively? yes. Is he being an asshole? yes. Did he disregard their partnership? yes. But not because he has turned into Chef David, no. It comes from his loneliness really. Carmen never really had friends, never really had a relationship (well, I guess Claire but that is not a good representation for a healthy relationship, he was shutting his real feelings out and trying to become a different person) and has never worked in a partnership before because he has always, since the beginning, done things on his own, and even when there are ppl around him, he shuts them out because he feels unworthy of love (because of his mother and father but that's a whole different conversation) so when he tries to have a partnership with Sydney, which he wants, he does it the only way he knows how, alone. To get her what he thinks she wants. He's a giver, that's how he shows love.

Sydney, for her part, needs to speak up. She needs to tell him how she feels and tell him what she really wants, a true, healthy partnership with him. One of the reasons that I think she's so avoidant is because of her mom dying. She probably has tried to ignore that pain all her life, maybe tried to keep up a good mood for her dad. So she's probably been avoiding problems since she was a child. It's her way.

CARMEN IS NOT DAVID FIELDS. He is not verbally abusing her, yes he yells but he is not telling her she is worth nothing, should kill herself, etc. He is lashing out but he is not Chef David because though he's acting like a dick, underneath it all he is good, he just hasn't reached that part of himself yet because he is buried underneath all his trauma.

Another thing, Carmen and Sydney are the center of this show. Whether you ship them or not, you have to admit that. Everyone else, Richie, Nat, Marcus, Tina, etc. are the heartbeat but Syd and Carmy are the lifeblood. They are the shows foundation. Since their relationship was rocky and strained in season 3, that's why ppl pulled away and didn't like it so much. It lacked its life force.

In conclusion, I will defend Carmen Berzatto forever because he is an excellent REAL representation of victims of childhood trauma (if you can't take that go to sesame street to learn about the basics of feelings or something) and my girl Sydney is also an excellent representation of someone who wants more but feels like they cannot do what it takes to get it. PUT SOME RESPECT ON THEIR NAMES. They're some of the greatest tv characters we've gotten in a while. I will defend them and their ship forever.

[undead-moth]

The more I think about how The Bear went from being a show that was making a purposeful commentary on how gentrification happens and the harm it does to being a show that arguably glorifies gentrification and even embodies gentrification with more and more big-name celebrities cameoing unnecessarily in the show and with the real-life restaurant that inspired The Beef now being a tourist destination -

The more I'm actually hoping for an ending with The Bear failing. I honestly think that it would make more sense narratively and be more meaningful if The Bear failed. I would like to see Sydney become disillusioned from the dream of getting a star and realize that Michelin stars are at best an empty status symbol and at worst a literal scam. I would like to see Richie realize that serving the rich is not the kind of purpose he wants to have, and that he would much rather find purpose in serving the very community he defended in season 1, the low-income, working class people that frequented The Beef. And I would like Carmy to realize that the high-end restaurant culture that caused him so much trauma is not going to fulfill him, and that running a restaurant isn't about how high-end it is. I would like him to realize that running a restaurant really is about the magic of cooking, nurturing others, and accepting imperfection - all ideas that are largely incompatible with high-end restaurant culture.

I would like to see The Bear as a high-end restaurant fail, and instead, see all of them decide that not only is running an average, low-end and little-known restaurant more sustainable and more profitable - but that it actually means more to them, and is more fulfilling to them, and what they really want to do. I think this ending would say exactly what this show needs to say, and what it in many ways was trying to say in the beginning of the show.

But I don't think that's the ending we're getting. I don't think we're getting an ending that returns the show to its initial commentary on the harms of gentrification at all. There are multiple people involved in the making of this show that not only own and run high-end restaurants but have literally contributed to gentrification and become millionaires as a result. I think whatever inspired them to comment on it at all in the beginning was either a matter of Storer getting an elephant in the room out of the way, or a matter of different writers having worked on The Bear in the first season, writers who are no longer working on it now.

It's really unfortunate, honestly, but not really surprising. Given how difficult it is to get a show produced without the contributors being either significantly wealthy, well-known, or both, shows that are genuinely critical of capitalism and its many symptoms are pretty much nonexistent.

[chaotic-toasters]

Gone (2)

So both parts of this have been out on Wattpad, I just felt like waiting a bit to post this one so you all could suffer 😈

Cortnee Vine x Reader

Arsenal Women x Reader

------------------

"Cort? Are you in there?" Charlotte joked, waving her hand in front of Cortnee's face. "You left for sec."

"Yeah, sorry, what were you sayin', babes?"

"You ready for the match tomorrow?"

The winger racked her brain. "Against..."

"Arsenal! How have you forgotten? We've literally never played them before."

"Oh, right," Cortnee shook her head.  "It slipped my mind."

"You're so forgetful sometimes," Charlotte smiled fondly. "Aren't you excited to see Y/N?"

Y/N. Just hearing your name sent pangs of guilt through Cortnee's empty heart.

"Yeah, of course," she lied. "I'm always excited to see her."

The duo sat in silence, both occupied by their own thoughts.

"Hey, Char?" Cortnee said suddenly. "Could you ever imagine a life without me?"

Charlotte was quiet for a moment. "No. I need you. Why?"

"Just asking."

--------------------

"Hi, girls," you forced a smile onto your face as you slipped into the changing room. "We ready to face Sydney?"

"Yup," Katie patted you on the back uncharacteristically softly as you sat down at your cubby. "Ye' ready?"

"Mhm," you pulled your shirt over your head, missing the way Kim and Steph shared a look. "I'm excited."

Katie snorted, ignoring the way that the rest of your teammates glared at her. "Coulda fooled me."

"I am excited."

Stina silently intervened, pulling the door open and ushering Jonas inside to do his pre-match talk. "Quiet down, girls."

Jonas raised his eyebrows at the thin layer of awkwardness in the room. "Everybody alright?"

"Yes. Go ahead, Jonas."

"Okay, so..."

-------------------

"Y/N," Kim grabbed your arm just before you left the changing room. "Wait a minute."

"What is it, Kimmy?" you asked, eyes darting to the side where Steph was standing with her arms crossed.

The Scot sat on the bench, gesturing for you to do the same. "Ye' trust me, don't ye'?"

You nodded instantly. "Yes."

"I hope ye' understand that Steph informed me of yer' current... situation with Cortnee Vine," the captain stated apologetically. "Regardless of how ye' feel about that, ye' need to let me or Jonas know if ye' can't play today."

"Steph!" you hissed, standing up quickly. "I told you all of that because I trusted you! I don't want this getting out."

The defender's gaze never wavered. "Do you think we'd let something like this get out? I was your captain. Kim is your captain. We care about you as both a player and a person. If you can't play in today's game because the emotions are too high, then don't play. You're more important than football."

You clenched your jaw, reluctantly backing down and returning your gaze to Kim. "I'll tell you if I need to come off. Can I go now?"

"Yeah. Go ahead."

As soon as you were out the door, Kim sighed. "She's not gonna tell me shit."

"No, she won't," Steph agreed. "We'll just have to keep an eye on her. I'll let Lia and Stina know."

----------------------

Cortnee's eyes flicked to the left, pursing her lips as you slipped into the line of Gunners next to her.

It was as if you knew she was watching you, automatically diverting your gaze to look anywhere but at her.

She decided to just try talking to you. "Y/N—"

"Not now, Viney," Kyra whispered, reaching over to pat the winger on the shoulder. "Later."

Cortnee turned away, deciding to just sulk in silence. The two of you hadn't spoken since the incident, and it was killing her inside. She missed you. A lot.

--------------------

"Ow, fuck," you groaned, stretching out your leg as the whistle blew. "Fuck, that hurt."

Mackenzie Hawkesby extended her hand, offering you an apologetic smile as she pulled you to your feet. "Sorry, mate."

"S'alright," you answered gruffly. "Let's get back to it."

"Y/N—" Cortnee stopped short as you swiftly turned around. "Y/N, can we talk after this?"

You shook your head, jogging into position as Katie prepared to take the free kick. You didn't need any distractions.

------------------

"WHY YE' TAKIN' THE PISS?!" Katie's booming shout was the first thing you heard after going down for the tenth time in fifteen minutes. "WHAT ARE YE' TRYIN' TO DO? KILL HER?"

Charlotte Mclean only shook her head, backing up slightly. "It was an accident."

"Katie," Kim's stern voice filled your ears next. "Leave it be. We don't need ye' gettin' a yellow."

You rolled over, clutching your ankle with a whimper as blood flowed quickly and freely down the side of your face.

"Y/N," Steph pressed a hand to the wound on your head, other hand resting on your back as you went limp from exhaustion (and maybe blood loss). "Y/N, don't move. The medics are coming."

"You'll get yer' arse over here if ye' know what's good for ye'," Katie growled, pulling against Lia and Kim. "Thinkin' ye' can just hurt Y/N like that? Think again."

Your eyes subconsciously drifted over to where she stood, taking in the way Cortnee was frozen in fear as she stared at the big screen.

It was replaying the moment in which Charlotte had timed her tackle wrong, hitting you square in the ankle and causing you to fly forwards and into the goalpost.

It spurred Cortnee into action, the winger darting over and shoving her own girlfriend out of anger. "What the hell, Charlotte?! Look at what you did! Look at Y/N! You fucking hurt her!"

Charlotte looked aghast. "It was an accident! And why the hell are you taking her side? I'm your girlfriend! Not her!"

"I wish she was!" Cortnee snapped before slapping a hand over her mouth.

You suddenly sat up, injuries forgotten as blood dripped down the side of your face. "Really?"

"LAY BACK DOWN!" Kim and Steph yelled, both pairs of hands shoving you onto your back.

"Y/N, where are we?" an Arsenal medic you didn't remember arriving asked you.

Cortnee took that as an opportunity to get away, apologizing to her manager before taking off into the tunnel.

"At the Emirates," you responded immediately, maneuvering yourself so that no blood would stian your jersey. "I don't have a concussion, mate."

"Well—"

Lotte peered over his shoulder. "She looks fine to me."

"Lotte, no," Kim protested. "Ye' had stitches all down the middle of yer' forehead and said ye' were fine. Ye' don't get a say in this."

"I do!" you objected, closing your left eye just before the crimson droplets could get into it. "It's my decision because I'minjured and I am me. And I say that I'm fine! I just need a bandage and then I'm good to go."

"Why is it bleedin' so much?" Kim sucked in a breath as more medics ran onto the field with a stretcher. "That's way too much blood just for a collision with a goalpost."

One of the medics shook their head as you shoved everybody off you and stood. "I don't—"

Their voice was cut off by the sudden ringing in your ears, hitting you at the same time the dizziness did. You keeled over, someone quickly catching you before you hit the ground.

In a panic, Steph tapped your clean cheek in an attempt to get you to respond. Unfortunately, you were already passed out, concussion symptoms making a delayed appearance but hitting you full force nonetheless.

Had you been conscious, you would have heard the cries of both the crowd and your teammates as you fell. You would have noticed the look of worry on Katie's usually smug face. You would have seen Kim's uncharacteristically terrified face. Seen Kyra hiding her face in Caitlin's shoulder. Seen Jonas sprinting onto the pitch with paramedics in tow.

Another thing that you weren't aware of was the paramedics telling your teammates that it wasn't a concussion. They weren't sure what yet, but it was something much worse.

---------------------

The waiting room was eerily silent, each and every player lost in their own thoughts as they waited for updates on your condition.

The game had been called off, both Kim and the Sydney FC captain wanting to follow you to the hospital.

Everyone had arrived at roughly the same time, storming into A&E and demanding to know what was going on.

A doctor had quickly informed them that you were suffering from an epidural hematoma and rushed to surgery.

No one had spoken since then, afraid that if another word was uttered it wouldn't end well.

It was simply a waiting game, the only sound being the ticking off the analog clock on the wall.

Seconds turned to minutes, and minutes into hours. Some of the players fell asleep, while other forced their eyes open in hopes that you'd be out of surgery soon. It didn't work, and most drifted off with their worries still at the forefront of their thoughts.

It wasn't until early the next morning when a doctor would finally enter the room, clipboard in hand. "Family of Y/N—"

Everyone snapped awake, Kim shooting to her feet at her words. "Yes, that's us. What's going on?"

"Y/N Y/L/N was fortunate enough to not incur any permanent brain damage or go into a coma," the doctor assured with a smile. "She'll make a full recovery."

Cortnee breathed a sigh of relief from the corner of the room, wiping away a few stray tears as all of the other girls cheered quietly.

"Thank you, doctor," Kim's relief was evident. "Can we see her?"

"One at a time. She's very disoriented right now and it wouldn't be good to overwhelm her."

All eyes turned to Cortnee who only shook her head. "Doc just said not to overwhelm her. I don't think it would be a good idea right now."

"I'll go then," Steph declared, standing up. "Kim, you should go next. I think you need it more than her."

-------------------

"Hey, kiddo," Steph's voice was gentle as she sat on the chair next to the bed. She reached over to grab your hand. "How are you feeling, love?"

"Hey, Stephy," your eyes were shut, voice hoarse. "My head kinda hurts."

She smiled, just happy that you were alright. "I figured. You scared us, you know."

"'M sorry," you murmured, tugging Steph's hand closer. "Is anybody else here, or just you?"

She scoffed lightly. "Kid, everyone is here. Jonas is here, Kim is here, Katie is here... the whole team is here. So are the Sydney girls."

"Is Cortnee here?"

Steph faltered. "Y‐yeah. She doesn't want to come in, though. Doesn't think it's a good time."

"Okay," you mumbled, unsure of whether to be disappointed or relieved. "Did we win?"

"We called off the game," the defender said. "We were too worried."

"Oh."

"I'm gonna head out, kid. Kim's next. I think she needs to see you more than you need to see her."

You chuckled. "True."

--------------------------

"Hey, Cort?" Charlotte's voice was hesitant. "I—"

She stopped short as her and Cortnee locked eyes. A sort of mutual understanding passed between them. No more words were spoken, but they seemed to come to an agreement. It hadn't been clear to either of them before, but now it made sense. They loved each other, but they hadn't been in love for quite some time.

They had thought that they were soulmates, and they weren't completely wrong, but they weren't completely right either. They were platonic soulmates. They cared deeply for each other, but they weren't meant to be together.

Maybe this wasn't what Cortnee had expected, but she wasn't complaining. All that was left was for her to convince you to give her a chance. If she succeeded, she was golden.

-----------------------

"Kimmy?" you questioned.

"Yeah, kiddo?" the skipper's voice was less shaky now.

"Can— can you call Cortnee in? I want to see her."

Kim was silent. "Are ye' sure?"

"Yes."

"Okay, kiddo," the Scot patted your uninjured leg. "But if it gets too much, then I want you to tell her to leave. You can't be overwhelmed right now, and this isn't a great idea, but I trust you."

True to her word, she left, the door shutting behind her before it swung open a minute later to reveal the redhead who had been on your mind since you'd woken up. "Hey, Cort."

"Hey, Y/N," the winger hesitantly sat down at your beside, offering her hand which you took without a second thought. "I— I was worried about you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I— I missed you," she admitted. "Listen, what I said yesterday on that pitch— I meant it. Char and I— well, we kind of... we, um... we broke up."

The dull ache in your head paused, brain disconnecting at Cortnee's words. "Huh?"

"We ended it on good terms," Cortnee swallowed, forcing herself to keep going despite the cowardly urge to shut the fuck up and sprint out of the room. "She understood that—that I love you. You were my best friend, Y/N. I cared for you, but I didn't realize that the love I had for you wasn't platonic. I didn't realize that the love I had for Char wasn't romantic. It was the opposite."

Her confession was everything you'd ever wanted (other than having an almost fatal brain injury in the process), but now that it was happening, you could barely form the words to respond. "I—I love you too."

"Are you sure?"

You snorted. "What, do you want me to say, 'SIKE!' I WAS JUST KIDDING!'?

"No, no, no," she shook her head quickly. "I just want to make sure it's not the epidural hemahema whatever it's called talking."

You snickered.

"What? I'm not a doctor!"

"I'm sure, Cort," you smiled at her, reaching up to pat her cheek. "I love you. Always have, always will."

"That's sweet." She smiled back at you.

You waited. "Well?"

"Well what?"

"You gonna kiss me now or you just gonna stare at me?"

"Oh," Cortnee blushed. "Can I kiss you?"

"Are you deaf? I just said yes."

"Oh," she said again. "Oh."

You rolled your eyes, grabbing her by the front of her jersey and pulling her into a kiss. "You're an idiot sometimes, you know that?"

She grinned sheepishly. "Yeah, but now I'm your idiot."

"Yeah, you are. Put that on your Twitter bio, will ya?"

"Of course, love. Now get some rest."

"Love you."

"Love you too, Y/N."

"Oh, and one more thing," you said, grabbing her by the wrist just before she turned around. "FIFA declined my request to switch national teams."

Her grin became impossibly wider. "Really?"

"Yeah. Some dumb legal shit."

She squeezed your hand happily. "I love dumb legal shit."

"Me too, Cort. Me too."

[drabbles-mc]

Take It Down

Sydney Adamu x Richie Jerimovich Carmen Berzatto & Neil Fak

For @storiesofsvu's Holiday Bingo 2023! Prompt: decorations Also completely inspired by @withmyteeth, like so many of my favorite fics are

Warnings: 18+, language

Word Count: 2k

A/N: Shout-out to Cricket for always having a never-ending supply of inspiration for all of my fictional faves. I owe you my life and also like 50% of my masterlist lmao. This is just a fun and silly little something-something!

The Bear Taglist: @garbinge @hausofmamadas @darqchilddaydreamz @ashlingnarcos @narcolini @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It wasn’t Christmas yet. There were still a couple weeks to go before it would be Christmas. The rest of the world was in full holiday swing, but stepping into The Bear wiped that entire slate clean. There were no decorations up in the dining room—it looked classy and beautiful the way that it always did, but it wasn’t festive. No one found the lack of décor surprising, per se, because they all knew Carmy and they knew enough about the history of Berzatto Christmas Bullshit to know that he wasn’t going to be decking the halls of the restaurant.

Just because Carmy had a deficit of Christmas spirit, though, didn’t mean that everyone else was in the same boat. No one was feeling bold enough to try and throw a tree up in the dining area, but apparently someone had been bold enough to sprinkle some holiday cheer back in the kitchen.

“What the fuck is this?” Carmen asked, standing directly below the light that was previously hanging perfectly centered above the expo.

Everyone turned to see what he was looking at. Richie stepped over to him, crossing his arms across his chest as he looked at the same spot. “Looks like mistle—”

“I know what it is, cousin,” Carmy cut him off.

“You asked,” Richie shot back with a scoff.

Carmy shook his head. Looking over at Richie, he gestured to the mistletoe hanging from the ceiling. “How, how the—who put this here?”

Richie held his hands up in surrender, was halfway through taking a breath to try and defend himself from the accusations he knew were about to come his way, when he heard someone giggling in the midst of everyone. He dropped his hands back down to his sides, brows coming together as he turned and looked to see who it was, not that it was really much of a question to anyone if they thought about it for more than five seconds.

“Neil Geoff,” Richie said, trying to sound annoyed with him the way that he usually did but struggling because the only thing he enjoyed more than harassing Fak was anyone harassing Carmy. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

He forced himself to get his giggles under control as he shrugged. “I don’t need to say anything for myself.” He gestured above their heads. “It’s mistletoe!”

“Yeah, we know what it is, Fak,” Carmy said. He looked like he was ready to grab a chair from the dining room so he could climb up and take it down himself. “Why did you hang it up?”

“C’mon, it’s almost Christmas! Have some holiday cheer.”

“What the fuck does mistletoe have to do with holiday cheer?” he shot back, running his hand along his browbone like he was going to flatten the stress out of himself.

Richie piped in before Fak could. “Maybe he thought if someone planted one on you, you might loosen the fuck up a little bit.”

Carmy waved him off. “Shut the fuck up.” Looking at Fak, he pointed at him and then up at the mistletoe. “Take it down.”

“I can’t!”

“You can’t?”

“Someone’s gotta kiss under it, Carm! If I take it down before that it’s bad luck!” Fak argued.

“We don’t need more bad luck,” Richie agreed, his tone so coated with sarcastic seriousness it was hard for everyone around them not to laugh.

Carmy was looking back and forth between both of them. “You’re both gonna have some bad luck if no one takes this shit—”

“We need to open,” Sydney begrudgingly inserted herself into the conversation, “so if we could finish this argument after dinner service, that would be ideal, I think.”

“I’m not leaving that shit up for all of dinner service,” Carmy said as he shook his head.

“Why?” Richie asked with a laugh. “Afraid no one is gonna wanna step up and kiss you?”

“Or he’s afraid that everyone is gonna be too busy kissing each other to do their work,” Fak chimed in before Carmy could answer.

“I’m not afraid,” he tried to stop both of them. “I’m fuckin’ annoyed. Take it down!”

“I can’t!”

Syd rolled her eyes throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Oh my god! No one cares!” She turned to Carmy. “We open in three. Can we just let it go?”

“No. I’m not leaving it up there. It’s, it’s fuckin’ ridiculous.”

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous,” Richie muttered.

Carmy’s gaze snapped over to Richie. “Cousin, I swear to—”

“Two minutes,” Sydney cut him off.

Carmy looked back over at Fak. “Take it down.”

“It’s bad luck!”

Carmy almost wanted to argue that there was no such thing as bad luck, but there was too much in his life and the lives of those around him that pointed to the contrary. However, he didn’t think that his luck, good or bad, was influenced by something as simple and silly as mistletoe hanging over their goddamn expo. But he also knew that if he said something to that effect, Richie was going to come right back with some comment about how he shouldn’t be so sure about that since his love life was either a fucking mess or completely nonexistent.

They also had about sixty seconds left until they had to open.

“Oh my god,” Sydney said as she looked over at Fak. “Neil, please. Just, take it down.”

“Can’t do it. Not until someone does the thing!”

Richie rolled his eyes. “Fuck me. We don’t have all day!” Stepping in, he placed his hands on the outsides of Sydney’s arms and pulled her up and into a kiss. It was short, almost harsh in the way that it knocked the wind out of Sydney’s lungs. It was over almost as soon as it started and Richie wasn’t even looking at Sydney when it was over, immediately turning to Fak and Carmy. “There! We all happy now?”

Carmy smacked Richie, the back of his hand colliding harshly with Richie’s shoulder. “Cousin! You can’t just fuckin—that’s sexual harassment! Don’t just fuckin’ take her and—”

Sydney cut him short, still trying to wrap her head around what had just happened. “Stop, Chef. It’s, uh, it’s fine. I’m good. Let’s just,” she turned to Richie, “let’s just open? Alright? We can do that now?”

Carmy sighed, shaking his head as he stared at Sydney in disbelief. He thought that if anyone was going to be on his side about Richie’s behavior it was going to be her. But there was no time to get into it all. He also had the feeling that the more he talked about it, the angrier he was going to get about it, and the more that Richie was going to give him a hard time.

“Fine, fine. Yeah.” He looked at Richie. “Go ahead and open, cousin.”

Richie nodded, the self-satisfied grin on his face enough to make Carmy want to hit him again only this time with a closed fist to his jaw. “Yes, Chef.”

Once Richie was heading out to the dining area, Carmy turned back to Fak. “Take that shit down. Now.”

“Alright! Alright. Now I can.” He fell into his half-muttering. “No more bad luck now. Would be nice if you had some holiday cheer but—”

“Fak!” Carmy shouted to stop him.

“Taking it down!” Fak said, finally stepping away to get his ladder so he could restore the kitchen to its former glory.

Carmy dismissed the rest of the small crowd that had gathered, telling them to get back to wherever the fuck they were before everything started. They were about to have people coming in to eat, after all, and none of the customers were going to wait or give a shit about their arguments back in the kitchen.

When everyone else had dispersed, Carmy returned his attention to Sydney. “Sorry about that. You, uh, you good?” He knew there must’ve been a more graceful way to ask that question but grace hadn’t ever been his strong suit.

“I’m fine,” she said, giving a small and dismissive wave of her hand. “I’m fine and we’re open now so I really gotta…” she trailed off and gestured towards where the orders were about to start flowing in.

“Right, right.”

He stepped out of the way, acutely aware that there were about a thousand other things that he could have and should have been doing, but he couldn’t quite pry himself away. He stared at her for another moment, gaze flicking over to the glass pane that let him see out into the dining area. He watched as Richie saw people to their seats, and he would have easily wasted much more time looking back and forth between the two of them if Fak hadn’t reappeared with a ladder.

“Here to strip away the only piece of Christmas The Bear has ever—”

“Just take it down,” Carmy stopped his sentence short.

“I’m going!”

Sydney was trying not to laugh at the two of them and was barely successful. She wasn’t laughing but she was still smiling. “Can’t believe you’re making him take that down now when we’re about to start—”

“I figured you of all people would want it gone,” Carmy argued, defensive already. “Keep you from getting fuckin’ harassed by Richie again.”

Syd was shaking her head as she finished getting herself settled and organized. “I’m just saying maybe it’s not the best time.”

“Am I leaving this up here?” Fak asked from the top of the ladder. “Because I’ll leave it up here.”

“No!” they both answered in unison.

“Dammit!” Fak made no move to hide his exasperation and disappointment.

Richie strode back into the kitchen just in time to hear Fak voice his feelings. He couldn’t help but to laugh. “If you want me to kiss you, Neil Geoff, you’re gonna have to find another way.”

“Yeah, right,” Fak said as he got down from the ladder, mistletoe in his hand, “like I would ever want to kiss you.” He shoved the small plant with its pretty red bow right into Richie’s chest. “Not even to avoid bad luck.”

Fak was walking away before Richie could try and come back with a clever response. Instead, Richie looked over at Carmy, waiting for him to say something. He must’ve also been struggling to come up with something pithy and cutting to say, because he just gave one last shake of his head in Richie’s direction before turning on his heel so he could go do his actual job. The one that had nothing to do with holiday decorations.

Richie looked down at the mistletoe in his hand and then looked over at Sydney who was already immersed in her work. Walking over, he stopped so that he was standing right next to her. Sydney had watched the whole thing happen in her peripheral and had made a concentrated effort to not say anything to him about anything, let alone what had happened before. She didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing that she was still thinking about it, that she had any type of feeling in the wake of it.

“Want the good luck charm?” Richie asked with a laugh. He dangled the mistletoe in front of her, watching her shake her head and try not to burst into laughter. “Something to remember me by? Maybe even cash in on later?”

“There are plenty of things that you need to be doing right now that aren’t this, Chef,” she replied but avoided answering the question.

“Want me to leave it in your locker?” he teased.

Sydney hated the fact that she could feel warmth creeping up her neck and into her face. “Richie.”

Richie laughed and clapped her lightly on the shoulder. “I’ll leave it in your locker.”

She rolled her eyes. “Then can you run these plates?” she called after him.

“Sure thing, Chef!” he yelled back, laughing the entire time.

[invisiblerambler]

Shapiro and Luka are the Logical Alternatives to Carmy

Notice I said logical. Shapiro is a version of Carmy that is less driven, less visionary, and more traditional. He doesn't have any kind of vision for his own restaurant, he is leaving the 'vibe' completely up to Syd. He is I'm sure very talented, but doesn't have what Carmy has. It may be a partnership, but if Syd is coming up with everything for someone else, she may not even be the face of it. If she picks the path with Shapiro it is safe, it is logical, and it would boost her career, but it's not daring. For all of his faults, The Bear would cement her legacy. It pushes boundaries in fine dining (at it's best) that I don't think a restaurant with Shapiro would. Not to mention, will Shapiro push her the way Carmy does? Almost undoubtedly no, because he already praises her unequivocally. That's not actually what she wants. Syd's entire conflict this season is picking something stable and logical over the thing that she's passionate about. The Bear after all is the thing, the potential restaurant with Shapiro isn't because it doesn't represent the same type of passion or challenge as The Bear. I saw someone say (apologies I don't remember who) that S1 Syd would have already taken the agreement. Personally, I don't agree with that, because at every turn, we have seen her make the passionate choice not the logical one.

Carmy even clocks it when she comes to stage, he knows just as well as she does that she could work almost anywhere she wants and she chooses The Beef, chooses him. Her coming back at the end of S1 isn't logical. Most people would run far in the other direction, but not only does she come back, but she commits to creating and running a restaurant with this person.

Up until friends and family, Sydney has to defend her choices to her father at almost every turn. There's no money, no firm commitment, and she doesn't even tell him about the partnership agreement, probably because she doesn't want to know what he has to say. Not because she thinks he'll say she shouldn't do it but because he will affirm what she already believes, which is that The Bear is the thing.

It is incredibly hard when the people you want most in your life to tell you not to do something, and would expect that from him, say exactly the opposite. I think that's why she hasn't told him she doesn't want to sign. She doesn't want to get into it. Which is understandable!

Now, Luka. Listen I am firmly on team whatever makes Syd happy, and if them having a cutie little fling will make her happy, which I think it would. I would love it, and on top of that I want to see Carm be jealous so bad. That man has no poker face and it would make me howl in delight. Luka has also done the work and literally as Syd says repurposed his trauma. He represents what Carmy can be if he figures out his shit. And I think he wouldn't be a placeholder, but could be illuminating for everyone about what they really want. Let Syd be happy for a second to figure out what's really going on! I see nothing, nothing wrong with that. Like Cicero points out, Carmy is like a 3 year old with too many crayons. LET'S TAKE SOME CRAYONS AWAY AND SEE WHAT HAPPENS.

[gakmaurepot]

My PCs on various saves~

Rambles below

Alice and Ellis are just alternate versions of the same person. But i'm thinking of making them twins or something.

Alice feels like she's an empty person. She acts the way she thinks others would want her to act, saying and doing things to get the best advantage out of the situation. All is about money in the end. She doesn't even spend it on anything for herself other than clothes, just to pay debt and fund construction eveywhere.

She has no hobbies, no dreams but to survive, no real life goals and is as dependant to robin as he is to her, although she's pretty sure she loves him the most, she sometimes silently resents him for the double payment, because she thinks he's not trying hard enough when she's out risking her life for him everyday. Also the way he more often than not won't stood up for her in dire situations like with bailey or whitney. I like my fluffy ship a bit bittersweet..

She does like being near sydney but is ashamed of her own behaviors she thinks are unholy, so she kept a distance from him. She fights whitney on sight. About kylar.. she is weak to pathetic people so she protects him from bullies every time yet.. he's kinda making it hard for her to defend his more freaky stuff, she knows of his stalking and arrow shooting but is somewhat happy for the protection and free money (?) She wanted to be protected once in a while because all these years she is the one doing the protecting, she's probably about to snap one day

She gets hurt a lot physically and mentally, so she frequently gets sent to the hospital. She hated going there, but she never learned to fix her bad habbits. Harper is fascinated and thinks of her like an adorable guinea pig, that likes to hiss and bite, or something.

She miserably yearns to be held normally by a parental figure. Her relationship with bailey, avery and morgan is the farthest thing from that, though. Still, she strangely upped her efforts sometimes solely for their validation.

Hawk thinks she's her wife and she just goes along with it. She visits her once a month. While Alice knew the hawk is not malicious, the situation is just too weird for her to process.

She never encountered the wolf or eden, for now. She gets the f out at the slightest bad feeling in the forest, this way she also almost never really confronted the wraith. (Habits of staying up all night) (they still hunt her though because of the necklace)

At first i gave her red eyes because rabbit but perhaps it has something to do with the wraith.

Recently i've started the farm quest so maybe i will add more lore.

I'm thinking she'd have a few outcomes at the end, happy end with robin where they killed bailey and escaped the town somehow, living normally somewhere not here. Happy? End with hawk where she never left the castle forever. Happy??? end with her settling in the assylum as harper's nurse. Bad? End with her just spirited away by the wraith and was never seen again, etc.

About my PC2, Odette, she is a bit older than Alice, she acts like her big sister figure. But one day she's just, gone, sold to the farm. Her hair turned white because of stress, She escaped at one point but never returned to the orphanage. Alice and everyone else thinks she's dead. She just lives at the home of a certain huntress... they're pretty happy together, maybe.

[littlegeecko]

Thoughts on Carl x Flynn?

EEEEEHHEHFOEAOEODJFDJABSODNJEHBEHJ!!!!!!!!!!!!! JUMPS UP AN DOWN AT MAXIMUM VELOCITY sorry anyways

This is gonna be a long one so buckle up! some spoilers for METAPHOR, BENEFITS, Jenna's good ending and parts of Flynn's route

You already kno thats my shit fr fr lmao

But if i had to go in depth about em, i would point out many things, such as the way that both pretty much sway with each other effortlessly, their interactions feel natural and nice, and granted, theres no hanging tension on them compared to Flynn and everyone else in this fucking group.I think thats moreso a side effect to Carl being so chill tho, you just...vibe with him.

I think first and foremost they're good friends, and that's what they really need in a fucked up place such as Echo, people they can trust and be with without much conflict and be themselves, hell, Flynn states multiple times that Carl is the one thing keeping him sane in this town and giving him a reason to keep going on about his life there, and i dont doubt Carl feels the same by the way he reacts to Flynn possibly leaving (and he even steps up and says he'll go back to Pueblo after they escape Echo, promising to bring Flynn with him. So its not about "Stay here with me" like someone, it's "Anywhere as long you're there")

I can totally understand how people can see their relationship as platonic considering Flynn shows mannerisms with Carl that he shared with Sydney when young, and the fact it's implied Flynn and Syd viewed each other as brothers, but i think that's just how Flynn is; a protector, making sure the people he cares about are alright to the best of his abilities regardless of how fucked up the situation might be, keeping his head high and levered so the others can hang on to him- with some exceptions, of course.

Do I think they make a good couple? i believe yes!

Their presonalities could seem clashing for some but they make it work very well, and they attend each other's weaknesses, such as Flynn helping Carl on his anxiety an depression to the best of his abilities, and Carl allowing Flynn to open up about what's on his mind and being there for him when he needs him the most, and defending him given the chance, no strings attached. Those are their sore spots as characters, and they just make it work without it seeming toxic or one-sided, at least for me

They already have good chemistry as friends, and theres a growing feeling there if you pay attention to the small little things on almost each route when it comes to them, blink and u miss it type stuff, until u get to Flynn's route and its straight up longing for each other: Carl shows jealousy for Flynn talking about Chase and what transpired between em, but he doesn't intervene (Perhaps his own low self-steem?) because he still cares for Flynn's happiness. And Flynn on the other hand is looking for a meaningful emotional relationship, and literally all the interactions he has with both Chase and Leo are turbulent and bring in a new layer of issues to the friend group, this doesn't happen with Carl, he even says he's happy to have this loser around- wishes he could sit beside him in Leo's van- and even indirectly asks him about his feelings about him ("If this wasn't real...is there anything you want to tell to not-real me?")

LIKE YOU TWO ARE SO DOWN FOR EACH OTHER IT MAKES YOU BOTH LOOK STUPID!!! and the part where they talk in Flynn's room??? JENNA'S REACTION? CARL'S REACTION??!??!?! you won't see me shutting up about it. The fact characters keep interrupting them on those moments is just so telling

and man if i had to go in depth about Flynn's route when it comes to Carl uguhhhhhhuhuuhufhdsjfsj rips my hair out

But yea, i love them as a couple, they bounce off each other and vibe together so well, and i think they can both help each other become the best versions of themselves once they leave Echo, together. Thats why i like Jenna's Good ending so much, at least there, theres a promise of them actually getting to that point in their relationship, and living together comfortably (like the waffle house scene....im obsessed, ill never be the same...)

Extra notes!

The fact Flynn fell for Carl despite him not fitting the type of guys he likes to bang just tells me he's genuinely interested in him for his feelings, personality and the way Carl treats him

AND I MIGHT JUST BE INSANEEEE BUT AFTER WATCHING METAPHOR? FLYNN GIFTING CARL A LIGHTER THAT WORKS JUST FINE ITS LIKEEEEEEE HMMMMM EEEEHEHEHEHHE YOU KNOWWWW

Carl caring MORE about Flynn leaving than him possibly having something with Chase because he feels thats how he could genuinely loose him guughhhhhgugh

AND THE WAY FLYNN IS THE ONE COMFORTING HIM IN THE JENNA ROUTE AND CARL HUGS HIM TIGHTER WHEN THEY JOKE ABOUT THEM GETTING MARRIED LIKE ??????EEEEHEHEHEH

I wish they kissed at least once womp

[wosoimagines]

Saucy Wedding - Emily Sonnett/Reader

This is Part 2 to Lover. Also not really chaotic, but I think it is pretty cute.

prompt: I absolutely loved Lover! Is there any chance for a follow up with USWNT chaos & a wedding?

warnings: none

words: 2531

(Y/N) POV

I sighed as I messed with my bow tie once again. My hands were quickly swatted away from the bow tie. I sighed as I turned to look at Christen who sent me a small glare.

“You can’t even fix it yourself,” Christen scolded. I rubbed the back of my neck at that. I knew that she was right. “Why are you so nervous?”

“Well, for one, I decided to let Lindsey of all people officiate,” I pointed out. Christen only raised an eyebrow at that. I knew that I had ultimately decided to let Lindsey officiate after Emily had begged me. “Two, I am marrying the literal love of my life.”

“Yeah, but it’s Sonny,” Tobin pointed out from where she was standing next to Christen.

“Which somehow makes it a little worse too,” I said. Tobin and Christen shook their heads at me. “It would just be right up Emily’s sleeve to plan chaos for today.”

Both of them went silent at that. They knew that I was right. It didn’t help that the entire national team was here, along with some of the retired vets as well. And some of Emily’s old Portland teammates. We both even had college teammates and friends in attendance as well.

There was absolutely no telling what Emily would have planned with them.

“We’re ready. We’re ready,” Kelley said as she darted toward us. I looked down at the defender. “Frat Daddy Jr. is ready. Just start the music and we’ll be good to go.”

I nodded at that before giving Christen and Tobin one last smile. The three of them moved to take their seats as I moved to talk to Lindsey one last time.

“Don’t worry, (Y/N),” Lindsey said as she put a hand on my shoulder. “Emily loves you. Trust me on that.” 

I nodded at that. I moved to stand at the front as everyone began to find their seats. Once everyone had sat down Lindsey gave a nod to the pianist and the cellist who began to play Cannon in D.

I raised my head to look to the doors that opened to where I saw Emily standing. Everyone stood up as they turned to look at Emily. 

I, however, was immediately reaching for the tissue in my jacket pocket. I used it to wipe at my tears.

Emily began walking forward before Lindsey gave me a small nudge. It snapped me out of just staring at Emily before I walked down the aisle to meet her in the middle. Emily grinned at me once I held my hand out to her. The blonde placed her hand in mine allowing me to lead her the rest of the way to the alter.

Once we reached the front, we both faced Lindsey.

“Don’t worry, I’m not like Sydney and won’t make you all stand the entire time,” Lindsey joked. A lot of our national teammates chuckled at that as they remembered how Ash and Ali’s wedding had been. “You can be seated.”

Everyone in the audience sat down. Emily and I slightly turned to each other.

“Welcome everyone!” Lindsey greeted after a moment. “On this beautiful day, (Y/N) and Emily have brought us together to celebrate their love and union in matrimony. Thank you all for joining us and being a part of their love story.

“After years of nurturing a beautiful, strong relationship, it’s great to see these two tying the knot and taking the next step towards building a family. If you’ve had the fortune that I have, you have witnessed (Y/N) and Emily meet, from a rom-com worthy friendship that started with Emily smacking (Y/N) in the face with a soccer ball to falling deeply in love with each other.

“I remember the day Emily told me about their first date. There was a light in her eyes that I’d never seen before. She was excited and nervous. She worried that (Y/N) didn’t feel the same connection she felt. Little did she know that (Y/N) was already calling her ‘the one.’“

“How could I not fall in love with you so fast?”

Lindsey shoved my shoulder which drew more laughs from everyone else.

“Did Saucy Sonny put you up to this?” I asked. Even more laughs came from the audience and even from Emily. “So that you two could make it a Saucy Wedding?”

“Shut up and let me conduct the ceremony,” Lindsey hissed.

“Don’t worry, I fell in love with you fast too,” Emily said softly.

We both ignored Lindsey’s glare as we stared at each other.

“It warms my heart to see the way (Y/N) looks at Emily. (Y/N) looks at Emily as if she’s the last and only woman on Earth, and to (Y/N), I know she is. I’ve seen these two be there for each other through life’s unexpected twists and turns, only growing closer and stronger from each setback. I’ve seen them share laughs, collect a library of inside jokes and most shocking of all, I’ve seen (Y/N) share her desserts with Emily, which is when I knew this was serious.

“Marriage isn’t easy but I trust these two. I have trust in their love, their friendship, and their commitment to one another. I know they’ll be there for each other, I know they’ll be loyal, and I know they’ll spend the rest of their lives growing and learning from one another. With that, I think it’s time to let them speak on their love.”

“(Y/N) and Emily, have you come here today of your own free will to declare your commitment to one another?”

“We have,” Emily and I both said at the same time.

“Do you promise to be there for each other in the good and the bad? To grow with, understand and respect one another during your life together?”

“We do.”

“Then please face each other and share your vows.”

“You know, I started writing this months ago, but goodness how they have changed in the past twelve days,” I admitted. Emily smiled at me and I could only return it. “What a week we have had. The first of many hard decisions we will have to make together, the first of many challenges we will face.

“With you, I know I will never have to do anything on my own. This past week has been a true testament to the woman you are and the wife you will be. A drop everything because I need you, work past midnight to catch up kind of wife. An ‘it’s never too late to do the right thing’ kind of wife. A ‘what can I do to help you’ kind of wife.

“I knew you were ‘the one’ when I realized that you truly are a better person than me. I admire you and look up to your for all the good you bring to this great big world. You are so blessed with the rare heart of a servant and your thoughtfulness touches everyone’s life you are a part of. Your core is one of a kind and I am the richest person to get to marry you, Emily Sonnett.”

I didn’t miss the tears that escaped Emily’s eyes.

“I think I’m going to need that tissue you have.”

I chuckled at that but I pulled it out to offer it to Emily who took it before wiping at her own eyes. Emily took a deep breath before she looked back up at me.

“(Y/N), of all the people you’ve met and places you’ve visited you ended up here - with me. It is a very powerful and humbling fact,” Emily stated. I grinned at that. “Through the years we have faced obstacles, some harder than others, that have helped us build the strong foundation of our relationship. It has shown me your unwavering love, constant support, and silent strength.

“Thank you for loving my fun, crazy, loud self. I promise to encourage you to follow your dreams. I promise to continue to challenge you to be the best version of yourself. I promise to make you laugh, when you’re taking life too seriously. I promise to love you unconditionally. I promise to put you first and never lose our spark. I promise to never stop singing my own made-up songs, although I know you wish I would. Our journey as a family has only just begun and I can’t wait to see what the future holds for us.

“(Y/N), you are the person I choose to spend forever with, as my true soulmate. As my lover. I chose you in 2018, I choose you today, and I will continue choosing you forever. I love you.”

After a moment of silence, Lindsey softly cleared her throat as she pulled out the rings.

“Let these rings represent your eternal love and the promises you have made here today. Let them be a symbol of your unbreakable bond and this new beginning of your life together with no end in sight.”

“(Y/N), take Emily’s ring and place it on her finger and repeat after me,” Lindsey said. She gave me a moment to pick up Emily’s ring. “With this ring, I promise to love and cherish you to the end of my days.”

“With this ring,” I started as I began to slide the ring onto Emily’s finger, “I promise to love and cherish you to the end of my days.”

“Emily, take (Y/N)’s ring and place it on her finger and repeat after me,” Lindsey said. She gave Emily a moment to pick up my ring. “With this ring, I promise to love and cherish you to the end of my days.”

“With this ring,” Emily started as she slipped the ring onto my finger, “I promise to love and cherish you to the end of my days.”

“Your love has now been strengthened by the promises you have made here today and the rings you have exchanged.”

I grinned at that before bringing Emily’s hand up to her ring.

“(Y/N) and Emily, we have heard the sincerity in your promise to share your lives in marriage. We recognize your love and support your decision to build a home together. By the power vested in me, I now pronounce you wife and wife. 

“You may kiss the bride!”

I immediately pulled Emily closer me before I pressed the kiss to her lips.

“Everyone, give it up for Mrs. and Mrs. (Y/L/N)-Sonnett!”

I grinned as Emily and I took down the aisle. I knew that everyone else would be headed to the reception while Emily and I took pictures. The two of us had fun getting the pictures with just each other before we had pictures taken with our families and even some of our friends. I had made sure that Christen and Tobin were included in our family pictures though.

Soon enough we were back at the reception eating before our first dance. Eventually, Kelley was the one to announce that we were going to have our first dance finally. Everyone crowded around the dance floor as I wrapped my hands around Emily’s waist and her’s wrapped around my neck. Lover filled the silence as we both danced to it.

Once Kelley announced it was time for the father-daughter dance, I let go of Emily after I pressed a kiss to her lips. I watched her for a moment as she moved over to her father before I turned. I easily found Tobin and Christen who were standing together. I walked over to them before I grabbed Tobin’s wrist.

“Come on,” I grinned at her. Tobin and Christen threw a look at each other. “Look, you and Christen and practically my parents. And between the two of you, you’re the dad in the relationship.”

“(Y/N),” Tobin hissed as her face flushed.

I didn’t listen as I dragged her out onto the dance floor. How Sweet It Is (To Be Loved By You) by James Taylor started to play and I didn’t give Tobin the option as I forced her to dance with me.

“Come on, admit it,” I said softly. Tobin only tilted her head at me. “You appreciate that I dragged you out to do this.”

“Okay, I am a little,” Tobin nodded her head. “But Christen will be even happier if you drag her out for the mother-daughter dance I assume you guys are doing as well.”

“Wait until you find all of the pictures we’ll have,” I grinned. 

While we had a professional photographer for most of the day, we had also gone ahead and given our guests disposable cameras to turn in at the end of the night so we could get the pictures that our friends and families wanted to take. I was sure that Emily and I would sit down and go through all of them one day since we had nearly a month off for our honeymoon. 

“No bad ones will be given out, right?”

“I can’t make any promises about that.”

Before long, the song ended and I moved to where Christen was standing before holding my hand out as Kelley announced that we would be having a mother-daughter dance before we invited everyone onto the dance floor. Christen sent me a smile as she took my hand.

Lean On Me by Bill Withers started to play as I swayed to the music with Christen. I had caught a glance at Emily dancing with her own mom and they looked like they were having fun.

“I never have thanked you,” I said softly. Christen opened her mouth but I shook my head. “You and Tobin both took me under your wing in 2015. I can never thank you two enough for that. You gave me the family I had been looking for.”

“You never have to thank us for that,” Christen said as she reached up to wipe a tear from my cheek. “Tobin and I love you and we would do anything for you, (Y/N). Maybe one day we’ll even make you a big sister.”

“Yeah?” I asked. Christen nodded in confirmation. “I’d like that. Big sister has a nice ring to it.”

“You’d have to come over and help though.”

“Emily and I could be like the older sisters/cool aunts just because of the age difference.”

“Maybe Emily doesn’t always come over.”

“Don’t like my choice of a wife?”

“You know I love your choice of a wife. It’s just Emily can get a little chaotic.”

“What do you think I love so much about her?”

Christen shook her head at me. Once the song had ended, the DJ immediately began to play even more music allowing the rest of our guests to flood the floor as I found Emily before the crowd completely descended on us.

This was what I had been waiting for. This moment where my life was complete. I had the family I had spent most of my life searching for. And I had the love of life who was now my wife.

[0kayblue]

Trying Not To Love You

Trying Not To Love You 

It’s been two years and you haven’t seen Leon since you died. 

(Part I)  (Part II) 

Main character relations: Leon Kennedy x reader 

Word Count: 5k (a little over) 

Mentions of death, alcohol, cigarettes, pills, and depression. Angst with no comfort. 

A/N: Didn’t see this coming did you? I didn’t either. I’ve been sad. Enjoy! @dargoww @xpipixd @azznina @ovrparty

“Don’t you dare!” Leon yelled at you while he held onto you for dear life. Your head was light and your vision was blurry while the ringing in your ears grew louder. It was a miracle you could hear him at all. 

“Take the shot!” Was all you could manage to muster back up at him while you dangled in the air. The ocean is stirring in a fury below you, ready to take you under as soon as you let go. Your open wound makes it feel like you were being ripped in half and Leon wasn’t going to let go of you anytime soon. 

It’s funny because the positions were supposed to be swapped. That’s what you saw in your nightmares all the time. Clinging to him for dear life and in the end he made the moral decision and let go. He sacrificed himself for the world over and over while you begged for any other outcome. It was your turn to make the moral decision, though. 

“Leon.” You cooed as your eyes met his. “I’ll be okay.” 

“No, dammit!” It came out through gritted teeth as tears streamed down his face. Has he been crying this whole time? “You’ve got Sydney and Bill to look after! You’ve gotta hold on!” 

“Leon-.” You tried to fight with him as you let go of him. 

“No, (Y/N)! I said no.” He took the shot and missed. Just missing Claire before he dropped the gun and grabbed your arm with his other hand. “There! I took the shot, I missed, now help me pull you up!” He begged you. He pleaded with you. He tries to tighten his grip on you as you begin to slip from his grasp. 

“Please, Leon.” 

“What about me? You can’t do this to me!” His voice breaking, “I need you! Like you, I can’t live a life knowing you aren’t out there!” You just beamed up at him as seconds felt like hours and your body begged for you to give up. 

“Leon! (Y/N)! A little help!” You heard Claire yell from down below as her and her brother fired rounds of bullets trying to defend themselves from the supernatural-esque being attacking them. 

“I trust you, Leon. Make the right decision.” You saw Leon’s mouth move and caught a glimpse of him going for his disregarded gun while you fell. Your body felt weightless as you began to plummet towards the solid ocean ready to greet you with open arms. Your eyes shut as you accepted the fate you had been dealt and as a sudden familiar warmth enveloped you. 

Your eyes open as you sit up in your bed. Your eyes heavy as you rubbed them while your limbs ached. Your hand reached for the warmth of your husband. Bill groaned slightly as your hand gently rested on his shoulder. A little laugh left you as you brought yourself closer to him, holding him to your torso. 

“Five more minutes.” He tried to barter with you. 

“It’s nearly ten thirty, sweetheart.” 

“It’s Saturday.” 

“True, but you promised a certain nine year old a-.”

“Dad!” Sydney called for Bill before you could finish. Bill sighed as he turned to you while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close to him. 

“Do you think if we remain absolutely silent and still she’d forget?” He asked as he nuzzled into your neck and you let out an airy giggle. 

“I highly doubt it.” You kissed the side of his face as the bedroom door opened. 

“Dad! Wake up.” She demanded as she crawled into the bed and forced her way in between the two of you. “It’s almost-.” 

Sydney was cut off by the sound of a loud fake snore coming from Bill as he shut his eyes. She was clearly irritated as she shoved him playfully, “Come on! You said that you’d take me out for dad and daughter day and mom said that the diner opens at eleven.” You wrapped your arms around her as you squeezed her tight. 

“Your mom told you that?” Bill asked, opening his eyes and propping himself up to look at the two of you. A sight he’s convinced he would never get enough of. As much as he despised every fiber of Leon’s being, he was eternally grateful that he jumped into the water after you. 

“I did.” You placed a kiss on Sydney’s cheek while she tried to pry away from you. 

“Mom.” She whined in disgust while you laughed. “Not funny.” She pouted, breaking free from you and climbing off the bed. 

“I love you too.” You said as you flopped on your back and looked at Bill. 

“Get up, it’s time to go.” Sydney demanded as she walked out of the room leaving the door open behind her, “Let’s go!” You both laughed as you laid on your side and wrapped your arms around Bill’s neck. 

“You heard her.” 

“I did.” He placed a chaste little kiss against your lips while you smiled against his lips. “You should come.” 

“It’s Ingrid’s birthday, remember? I’m taking her out to dinner and then probably drinks and then who knows what. Besides, before too long she’s not going to want a thing to do with daddy daughter time.” 

Bill sighed, “I’m trying not to think about it.”

“I know, she’s growing up so fast. I don’t know what to do? She’s already starting to hate me.” You whined, knowing what was around the bend.

“She doesn’t hate you.”

“Yet.” Bill laughed and you shot him a playful glare, “I’m serious. I feel it coming.”

“You’re being dramatic.”

“You can not say that. You never were a pre-teen girl.”

“That is true. Listen, I’ll talk to her today-.”

“No, you can’t! That’ll only make it worse.” Your laughter turned into a sigh, “I’ll just take it with a grain of salt.” 

“Such a trooper.” He mocked as his hands snuck up your pajama shirt and grazed over the scar tissue causing you to shiver. “Are you okay?” He asked, his tone and posture changing to rigid and serious.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m fine.” Your lips connected with his as you pushed the memories out of your head. His lips interlocked with yours and was hesitant at first, but then quickly kept up with you. He pulled you closer to him as one strong hand made its way between your shoulder blades and the other rested against your hip. He kept you in place while his tongue ghosted your bottom lip. He takes in your quiet little moan as his tongue slips into your mouth. Your grip on him tightens as you try to pull yourself closer to him. His mouth leaves yours regretfully and he trails down your neck. His name gets stuck in your throat and just as you mewl against him Sydney shouts for you. 

“Mom! I can’t find my brush! Do you know where it is? Mom!” Bill groans against your skin and you try not to yourself. 

“You better get ready.” You kiss his chin as you pry yourself away from him and stumble out of bed. Bill was quick to snap up and reached out for you; ready to catch you. You laughed and ushered him away with a shake of your hand, “I’m okay.” Walking was still difficult after two years. 

It’s been two years and it’s hard to believe how far you’ve come. From the grave to the hospital bed to now, so much has changed. Ingrid retired last year, Chris and Claire started and worked for their own privately funded agency, and Leon worked with them for a while. 

You grabbed Sydney’s brush from the breakfast bar and headed towards her room. You knocked on the door frame waving the brush in the air, “You going to let me brush your hair?” You hoped she would say yes that way you wouldn’t have to fight with her about it. She nodded as she went back to putting on miss matched neon colored socks. You smiled to yourself as you sat down next to her on her bed. “Face the door, please.” She did as she was told as you started to brush her hair. You hummed slightly as you tried to remain as gentle as possible with her. 

“Mom?” She asked slowly, unsure if she should even ask the question in the back of her brain. 

“Yeah, honey?” 

“Do you believe in true love?” You laughed slightly as Sydney turned to look at you and she grew defensive. 

“Of course I do.” You answered before she could back track, “Why? Do you have a crush?”

Her face turned bright red, “I do not!” You bit your cheek so you wouldn’t laugh. She was so easy to read and so adorable. 

“It’s okay if you do. I’ve had a number of crushes.” 

“You have?” 

“A billion. I’ve fallen in and out of love a number of times.”

“But you have dad. There were people before dad?” You raised your eyebrows, unsure of how to answer that.

So you opted for a lie, “No one came close to your father.” You got up and grabbed a headband from one of her vanity drawers to match the somewhat mixed matched outfit she picked out. She was getting better at picking out her own clothes.

“When will I find something like that?” She asked as you put the headband behind her ears and fixed her hair. 

“Not for a while.” 

“How do you know?” 

“Because when you really fall in love is when you grow older.”

“Is it complicated?”

“Sometimes.” You bit your lip not wanting to break her heart, “But, not really. You’ll know when you know.”

“Is Aunt Ingrid in love? She’s old.” 

You laugh, “Tell you what, I’ll ask her tonight and I will tell you word for word what she says.” You kissed the top of her head before she headed out the door. You chuckled trying to keep this feeling of Leon from settling in your stomach. 

Following her out you caught Bill in the hallway as he pulled you to his chest. He pushed you away and signaled for you to twirl as he held your hand above your head. You compiled before he pulled you back into his embrace and then dipped you, “My love.” He said before kissing you. 

You giggle as he brings you up and kisses you again. You hold his hand gently as you walk into the living room. He squeezed it gently and let go as he went to grab his keys, “You ready to go, Sid?” 

“Yeah.” She said as she tied her shoes. 

“Can mom come?” You gave Bill a side eye. 

“No. You said it would be just us like last time. You’d let me drink soda all day-.”

“I did. I forgot.” Bill said with an awkward little chuckle as he slipped on his shoes. 

You glared at him, “Soda all day? No water?” 

“Not a drop. Also unlimited candy at the movies.” 

“Unlimited?” You pressed on as your glare grew sharper. 

“Alright, that is enough, kid. You’re getting me in trouble.” You moaned in response as he set a hand on Sydney’s head, ruffling her hair. Messing it up. You sighed as you went over to her and fixed her head band. He kissed your cheek once you stood up. “What time will you be home?” 

“Probably later than you, but hopefully not too late. You know Ingrid, never know what she’ll throw at you since she retired. So don’t wait up.”

“Alright. Have fun and be safe. Just a phone call away.” 

“I know, I know. Same goes for you two. I don’t want to see you on the news.” You joked. 

“Alright, Sid. Let’s head out.” He opened the door slightly and then shut it, “Give mom a hug first.” 

Sydney wrapped her arms around you briefly, opened the door, and ran for the car. “Bye, love you!” 

“Love you too.” You said with a sigh and a little smile. Bill kissed the corner of your cheek. 

“Please be careful.” Your tone laced with the slightest hint of worry. 

“We will.” He kissed the corner of your mouth and then peppered a little kiss on your lips, “I gotta go.” 

“I know.” He parted from your side and went to unlock the car so Sydney could get in. 

“Also, be sure to make sure she drinks one glass of water! Sneak a vegetable or two in there as well!” 

“Yeah, yeah!” He replied as he opened the car door for Sydney and she climbed in. “Love you!” He shouted before getting in the driver's seat and shutting the door. “We are not doing that. One day isn’t going to kill us. Right?”He said as he turned to look at Sydney in the back seat. 

“Right!” It was a victorious answer that fell from the mouth of a wide smile. 

As Bill backed out of the driveway a bittersweet sigh leaves your lips. The house settles into quiet as you flop onto the couch and debate over if it was even worth it to pick up the remote. Unsure if you were able to stomach whatever the headline might be today. Depression settles in your bones as you groan and just lay down on the couch disregarding the remote. 

You were tired. So unbelievably tired. 

You slipped a hand under your shirt and grazed your fingers over the scar that you’ve had for two years. You’ve tried everything to get rid of it. Lotions and butters and special all natural balms. But it never left and you’ve gaslit yourself into believing that it was fading. You’ve thought about covering it, but with its awkward surface area you weren’t too confident on what to cover it with. 

You know you should just learn to love it and all it stood for. The fact that you went out and fought for your family. You were an active part in trying to make the world a better place for your daughter. You stood your ground and took the fall for humanity. 

But, it hurt. It hurts so much that you still actively dream about that day over and over; sometimes wishing that you would’ve just drowned. This life is everything you could’ve asked for and more than you thought you deserved.

You had a former career that genuinely helped people. You were good at it too. You were smart and were able to retire early. You made yourself into something you thought wasn’t possible. 

 You were a mother, something you never thought you had the strength to do. Sydney loved and adored you to the moon and back and you felt the same for her. If not more intensely. You may not be her biological mother, but she is your child and you would do anything for her a million times over. A parental unconditional love that you provided despite never truly experiencing it for yourself.

You had a husband that loved you so much that the moment you woke up he was on his knees thanking whatever higher power that was out there. A husband that loved you mind, body, soul, and beyond. That you betrayed every time you thought about the pit in your heart that had another’s name. 

You groaned in frustration as you turned on your side. Whenever you weren’t occupied your thoughts always drifted back here. The pills and therapy sessions could only do so much. You could only take so much while constantly feeling like you were only half full. 

So instead of fighting with yourself you opted for sleep. Shutting your eyes with a deep breath you hoped to dream of anything other than your death or Leon. 

Hours had passed and you sat across from Ingrid at one of the bar tables. You were laughing at some lame joke you told her that you found hilarious that she thought was just stupid. But, your laughter was contagious as her head started to hurt from laughing so hard. 

As you both quieted down you picked up your drink and took a sip, “Woo.” A sound of relief leaving your lips as you sit the drink back down, “So, tell me more about this mystery person.” You nudged her, hoping that the alcohol would loosen her up enough to finally spill the details she didn’t want you to know. 

Ingrid laughed, “Well, let’s just say I think there might be a future.”

“Really?” You say with excitement, “I’ll have to tell Sydney then.” Ingrid raised an eyebrow as she brought her drink to her lips. You rolled your eyes with a little smile, “She was asking me today about love and asked if you were in love.”

“She did?”

“Mhm, I told her that it’s something you figure out with age,” you took a drink of your drink before starting again, “and she called you old.” You snickered and Ingrid let out a joking frustrated sigh. 

“Thanks, kid.”

“She calls it like she sees it.” You laugh, your hand finding your knee. 

“Hey!” 

“Oh, come on, you don’t look a day over twenty-one.” You complimented her, hoping it eased some of that pain behind her joking exterior. 

“Gee, thanks.” There was a pause while Ingrid took another drink. The anniversary of your death was around the corner and she was worried for you. She always was. Your friendship being one of the things she was glad remained after your retirement. You helped her through her own, it being something she didn’t think she would struggle so badly with. “So?” She asked. 

“So?” It was your turn to raise an eyebrow as you sipped from the stronger than usual drink you’ve been nursing all night. 

“You know.” She coaxed and you sighed. She had a million questions buzzing around in her head but settled on the easiest, “Are you okay?” 

“I’m fine. It’s your birthday and it’s been years-.”

“It’s only been two and neither of us are used to that sort of trauma, (Y/N).” She fought, “So, how are you really?” 

“I’m fine…” It wasn’t a complete lie, “I’m hanging in there. I still dream about it- I did last night- but I’m going to a shrink and I talk with Bill about it. He helps a lot.”

“Mhm.” She moaned.

“What? He does. It’s hard for me to be completely open about it, y’know. There’s some things he doesn’t understand and there’s some things I’d rather he didn’t try to understand.” 

“Mhm.” More emphasis on this moan and you just scoffed. “I’m just saying.” Silence settled between the two of you as you both nursed your drinks. “Does he know it was basically you and Leon the whole time?” She didn’t know if it was the alcohol or if she was tired of you hiding from it. 

“No.” 

“What about your little confession?” 

“No. I don’t want to break his heart, Ingrid.” You sighed, “You saw the state he was in when he thought I was dead. I love him too much to break him like that.”

“I know,” Ingrid sighed, “but don’t you think you should tell him? Don’t you think it’s shitty of you to not?” 

“I know it’s shitty, but it’s for the best. Honest. I love him and that’s all that matters.” 

“I guess you’re right.” Ingrid finished her drink, “Have you talked to Leon since?” 

You shook your head, “You?”

“From time to time. He-…” Ingrid hesitated on what exactly to say. She knew you weren’t stupid. She knew you weren’t going to leave Bill or Sydney; she knew the guilt and shame would eat you whole if you did. Although- she didn’t approve of you ever going back to Leon- she wondered if you’d be happier in Leon’s arms. If your smile would ever reach your eyes again and just as she went to finish her sentence he caught her eye, “Speak of the devil.” 

“What?” You asked a little confused as you turned to face the door and your eyes immediately connected with his. Your face fell slightly as you remained in his gaze and your stomach started to spin. You quickly turned back around in your seat and looked at Ingrid. A flood of emotions devouring you as panic set into your features and Ingrid reached out to you. 

“We can go.” She suggested quickly, not a fool to the events unfolding in front of her. 

“What? No, no, no. It’s your birthday.”

“Yeah, but sometimes-.”

“This is home base for us, Ingrid. We are staying.” You were firm as you sent her a little assuring smile. “I am completely fine, okay?” 

“Okay.” She stood up as her eyes found Leon, “I’m going to get another drink, you want anything?” 

“Water, please. I’ve gotta drive us home and I think the bartender put one too many into the drink I had.” Ingrid nodded as she headed towards Leon and the bar.

She took a seat at the bar stool next to Leon, waiting for the bartender's attention. 

“Happy Birthday.” Leon greeted her, not about to act like he didn’t know her. 

“Thank you.” She turned on the stool and looked at him, “How are you doing?” 

“I’m okay all things considered. You?”

“I’m good. All things considered.” He chuckled at her response. “What are you up to lately?”

“She avoiding me?” He asked, not even giving any thought to Ingrid’s question. 

“You know the answer to that.” 

“I know. I’ll take my leave.” 

“What can I get you, sweetheart?” The bartender asked as he called for all of Ingrid’s attention. 

“A rum and Diet Coke and a water, please.”  

“You got it.” The bartender went to work as she looked back at Leon. 

“Don’t leave on our account, Leon. We’ll be out of here soon. Besides, this might be your only chance to tell her.” She sent Leon a side eye, “She’s not leaving Bill.”

“I wouldn’t ask her too.” Leon sent a rare glare in her direction as the bartender set down Ingrid’s drinks. 

“Put it on my tab.” Ingrid left Leon back at the bar as she smiled back to you. As she sat down, her seat still warm, she changed the subject, “So the kid wants to know about my love life?”

You laughed appreciating what she was doing. 

“Yeah, so listen to this, she’s got a crush.” 

“What? No!” You nodded and tried not to cackle. 

You and Ingrid continued to talk while you tried to keep your staring problem out of it. You maintained a good energy and tried not to think too hard while Ingrid’s drink turned into another and another after that. When her words started to slur slightly you tried to keep water down her throat and get her something to eat. Ingrid wasn’t a loud drunk so noise wasn’t a problem, her trying to sit in your lap the whole night was tough. For someone who could be so rigid she sure was a touchy drunk that wanted nothing more than someone to hold her. You were happy to oblige as she was comforting and you needed comfort. 

“Alrighty, missy. You stay in your chair, I’m going to go pay your tab.” 

“What? No. I-I got it.” She went to grab her purse and as she fumbled for her wallet your hands found hers. 

“No way in hell are you paying on your birthday. I got it.” 

“But-.” 

“Mine will be here before you know it.” You assured her as you pushed her back against the chair so she could rest. She was definitely spending the night on your couch. 

“You’re a saint.” 

“I know.” You smiled as you grabbed your wallet, “Stay here.” You headed towards the bar and as you squeezed your way through a group of guys you saw it. Leon’s arm was resting against the bar top while he chatted with his girlfriend. Your heart broke slightly as you smiled, genuinely happy he was moving on with his life. It’s all you’ve ever wanted for him. 

You knew just about everything about the girl and you couldn’t have picked a better match. She was smart, sweet, and ridiculously kind hearted. Her smile lit up a room and she was easy going, fun, a nice breath of fresh air.  

“Hey.” You said as you hit your card against the bar top. Grabbing the bartender’s attention you took your eyes off Leon while his eyes found your frame.  “Paying for the birthday girls tab.” You gesture over to Ingrid sitting in her chair. Her head tossed back and looked like she was starting to fall asleep. 

“Already been taken care of. Courtesy of the guy at the end of the bar.” Your eyes found Leon’s and you blinked, taking a long deep breath. Unable to stop the smile from your face as you opened your eyes. Exchanging gazes of sincere longing you just mouthed the words thank you. 

“Alright, let me-.” You went to grab some cash but the bartender just raised his hand. 

“Your money's no good tonight, ma’am. He took care of everything.” Your brows furrowed together as your lip quivered slightly. 

“Alright. Thanks for the night.” 

“Of course. See you next time.” He nodded and you turned and left to Ingrid. 

“Come on, let’s get you to the couch, you old thing.” You snickered as you helped her up. Leon remained fixated on you while you walked out of the bar, nearly carrying your best friend. 

“I’m not old.” Ingrid went to defend herself in her drunken state. She would feel it in the morning; no use in arguing with her.

“I know, I’m just teasing.” A short little laugh left you as you made your way to your car. Helping her into the back seat you shut the door and went to the passenger seat. You opened your glove compartment and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. 

“Those are-.” 

“I know you tell me everytime I grab them. One every now and again isn’t going to kill me.” You defended yourself, “Take a load off for a minute, I’ll be right back.” You grabbed a lighter before shutting the door. You packed the cigarettes as you hit them against the heel of your palm. You stepped into the light of a street lamp and pulled one out and stuck it between your lips, shielding the end with one hand and lighting it with the other. 

As you took a drag you closed your eyes. You wanted to go home. You missed home. 

“You shouldn’t smoke.” 

You jumped as your eyes focused on the man behind the scolding, “You have got to stop doing that.” You scolded him as your hand found your heart. He laughed and you couldn’t help but to smile. A smile that reached your eyes. 

“Sorry.” He apologized before and awkward silence filled the parking lot. His charm never faded and your beauty never compared. His nerves started to bounce around in his stomach as he bit his lip. What was his plan again? Where was he going with this? He just followed you into the parking lot like a creep; it wasn’t supposed to be creepy. 

“Thank you for paying for our drinks, you didn’t have to.” You broke the silence and Leon’s downward spiral into uncertainty. 

“It’s her birthday, it’s the least I could do.” He looked at you with loving eyes. Those blue oases that would always take you captive. 

“She thanks you too. A whole lot, even though tomorrow morning she’ll be cursing your name instead of her own.” You laughed and Leon snickered. Despite the night time air he felt warm. You made him feel warm. 

“I know she will. Can always count on her to hold a grudge.”

“Oh yeah.” You agreed, taking a drag of your cigarette. “Big time.” Exhaling the smoke you quirked a little smile. 

That awkward silence landed again as you continued to smoke. This would probably be the last time you spoke face to face with Leon Kennedy and regardless of all the things you wanted to say you couldn’t bring yourself to utter a word. 

“How’s Sydney?” Leon broke the unbearable silence. 

“She’s good. She’s growing up nice and strong. Strong willed, for sure. She’s entering her pre-teens and you know how that goes. She’s going to be my karma, I just know it. Bill’s become her favorite lately and I can feel her starting to hate me.” 

“She won’t be that bad.” Leon assured you. That little girl talked his ear off about tigers for that short period of time two years ago. He found it hard to believe that the little girl who named a tiger after you at the zoo would ever hate you. “She’ll never hate you. Don’t see how anyone could.” 

You chuckled at this as you put out the cigarette, “I could name a couple.” 

“I couldn’t. I won’t.” You returned his smile.

“How are you doing, Leon. Genuinely.” You hoped the concern in your tone reached him. 

“I’m doing the best I can.” It was true. It seems as if Leon was cursed with a difficult life. Plagued with always being so close but so far away from the embrace of a good and easy life. He almost had it once. He shrugged, “You?” 

“I’m doing the best I can.” You returned his half assed answer as you put out your cigarette. Sighing you bit your lip unsure, “Thank you.” 

“For what?”

“Dragging me out of the water. Getting me to the hospital. Saving me, Leon. Thank you.” Regardless of how it came out- and regardless of how sometimes you wished he hadn’t- you meant it. He saved your life, he gave you the gift of a second chance. 

“I’d do it again. In a heartbeat.” He meant it. In a heartbeat he’d save you over and over again. As many times as you needed saving. 

You nodded, assuming this conversation was over as you moved closer to your car.

“Why didn’t you call?” He finally asked, trying to piece together the little plan he had before he came out here. 

“I couldn’t.” You said as you refused to face him. Why couldn’t this be like before? Where you fought and never spoke again? Why was it more complicated now? 

“Why?” His tone slightly broke as you turned to face him. A tinge of that rookie cop being heard. 

“Because, Leon…I couldn’t trust myself. I needed to be there for Bill, for Sydney. I had to be a wife and a mother.” His jaw clenched in frustration. It hurt, but he understood. He knew you made the right decision, the decision he wanted you to make, but that didn’t make it any less hard. 

“I understand.” It isn’t what he wanted to say, but he figured it was the best thing to say. 

“If it’s any consolation I wanted too. I really wanted to.” It hurt to admit, but you did so naturally. “Also, from what I saw in there it’s for the best that I didn't.” A sad smile found your face and he knew exactly what you were referring to. “I’m happy for you, Leon. It’s about time the hero finds happiness.” You laughed as you bit the inside of your cheek, “Do you love her?” He hesitated as you tilted your head with furrowed brows, hoping he couldn’t see your glassy eyes.

“In a way.” It hurt to admit, but he did love that girl in the bar. She helped ease the pain. She helped fill the void you left. “She’s not you.” The nasty taste of guilt settled on his tongue as he admitted it. She deserved more than this, he knew that. 

“I understand.” You did all too well. Bill wasn’t him. “Love takes time and effort, but it’s worth it. It always is.” Leon bit his lip as you began to think out loud, “Do you think we ever get it right? Do you think we ever work it out?” You couldn’t stop the tears anymore as you sniffed. You rub your eye as you try to gain some type of control over it. 

“I hope so, god damn do I hope so.” He wants to reach for you. He wants to comfort you. He wants to tell you he loves you. He always has and always will. But he doesn’t. He keeps his distance, he remains feet away from you, he does what he thinks is best. He sniffs, “Trying not to love you is so damn difficult.” 

A broken little laugh leaves you and he returns it. This wasn’t funny, but what else could you do? Neither of you wanted to cry anymore. 

As your sad laughter ceased with a sad sigh he admitted, “I won’t ever stop.”

“I know.” You sniffed and nodded, “I know all too well.” Nothing between you and Leon was ever one sided. “I’ve gotta get her home.” You gestured to your car, knowing that if you didn’t start moving you’d end up in his arms. 

“Yeah. You better.” He agreed as he backed away from you. Knowing that if he got any closer he would be done for. 

“Bye, Leon.” As you climbed into the driver's seat, trying not to slam the door behind you. You rested your head against the steering wheel exhausted. Who knew getting a sense of closure could be so draining? 

You bite your lip hard as you try to keep back sobs. The truth was true love doesn’t always work out. True love was incredibly painful and yet you wouldn’t exchange a single moment with Leon. You’d do anything for him. 

“Bye, (Y/N).” Leon tried to shrug off the depression he felt as he shoved his fists into his jacket pockets. 

He knew you were trying to make this easy. He knew that you meant well. He wanted more though. One last hug, one last kiss, one last ‘I love you’. He wouldn’t get it and he knew he shouldn’t ask for it. He wanted to go back, he wanted to run to that altar and apologize for being late. He wanted to make you his wife, he wanted to fall asleep and wake up next to you each morning, he wanted to parent Sydney right beside you. 

You refused to break the heart of another you loved and he wasn’t going to blame you. Bill showed up and as much as he hated to admit it, he was right for you. He was a good man and he wouldn’t spare any expense when it came to your happiness. He was there and he could continue to provide for you. Most importantly he loved you, and that’s all Leon wanted for you. Someone who loved you and cherished you just as he had. 

As he approached the door he turned and watched you drive away. Your voice rang in his ears as he replayed your confession from two years ago: ‘I still love you.’ 

[lonelycowgirls]

Staying Afloat aka yachtie!harry

Here we go... part one of Scarlett's story!

I can't wait for ya'll to read this and what I have in store for these characters. This is mostly self-indulgent because I LOVE Below Deck, but I hope you all love it, regardless.

Click here for the Character List if you want to really form a picture in your mind.

Please like, reblog and follow if you enjoy it!

My asks are also open for feedback and ideas to how this universe can continue.

Nel xo

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Warnings: swearing Word count: 4.2k

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Intimidating moustaches and pretty boys...

Scarlett

"Buongiorno, signora."

"Buongiorno." I handed the man with a very intimidating moustache, sitting behind the immigration inspection desk, my passport. My new bright orange floral leather sleeve sat in the crevice between his thumb and forefinger as he fingered through the pages to find the photograph page. I smiled genuinely at him before looking back to my phone to check the text that told me where I would be meeting my taxi driver. Normally the broker would arrange for the drivers to meet me with a sign in the airport arrival area, but this time it looked like I would have to meet them outside the airport in the taxi rank. Not that I minded, I just enjoyed the usual more - it made me feel famous.

"Business or pleasure, signora?"

"Business," I responded, tossing my hair over to the other side and hoisting my carry-on bag further onto my shoulder. "I'm working on a super-yacht."

The man nodded once, looking completely unimpressed, before stamping my passport and passing it back to me, waving me through to baggage claim. I smiled again at him, ignoring the fact that he looked past me with a blank stare. I got it, his job looked incredibly tedious. Having to deal with people like me; ignorant people who didn't speak the language and, worse still, refused to learn, entering his country every day. That's us Brits for you.

I wandered to the baggage claim area in pursuit of my bag. Before the upcoming season, I'd just completed a winter season sailing in Australia. My phone buzzed with the familiar 'Welcome to Italy' message from Vodafone. It buzzed again with a text from my mum.

Mum: Hope you're alright, hun. Text me when you land. Dad's still upset that you aren't coming home. Have fun. Mum x

My dad never got it, my ambition to travel. Probably never would. He hadn't been out of the country since he and Mum had split up when I was seventeen. He was happy with summers spent in Skegness and Blackpool. As soon as I found yachting I was on the first bus to Cornwall, where the training took place. My nanna had been an air hostess, so I like to think travelling is in my blood. She was brave and bold and was the first person to defend me at family gatherings for my life choices. I kept an album of her photos from her travelling days under my bed at home and kept a small Polaroid of us together in my purse. It helped when I was second-guessing myself in my job or if I was having a wobble about life. It was all the motivation I needed to keep going.

Walking through the bustling airport, I checked the screens above each luggage belt for the correct one. Amsterdam... Paris... London... Sydney. As I approached the Sydney belt, I pulled my headphones out of my bag to continue listening to the podcast I'd had on during the flight. I was in the middle of being lectured on why we were all wrong about Anna Nicole Smith by a pair of millennials - who were most likely barely birthed when she was actually alive - before the plane began to land.

The belt moved around and around for almost half an hour before any bags actually made their way out to its impatiently awaiting audience. I watched as a little boy ran to jump onto a giant black suitcase that was bulging at the sides, his dad rushed to pick both the boy and the suitcase up off the belt before they both found themselves winding back out to the mysterious place where the bags were handled. No one ever really questions where they come from or who handles them, they simply just appear. The boy's mum was in the middle of breastfeeding a very young baby but wasn't deterred from chastising the boy loud enough for me to hear over my headphones.

I watched a young lad from a group of tatted-up blokes, who I assumed were on a stag do, help an elderly man hoist his very large leopard print suitcase off the belt once he'd seen he was struggling. I then watched the elderly man wheel the case and its matching carry-on over to another elderly man who grabbed his hand to guide them both towards the arrivals exit.

I spotted my Gucci (T.K Maxx Special) monogrammed suitcase as it came steadily around the corner and stepped to pick it up, dragging it to land heavily on the shiny marble floor, being careful to not drop it on my sandalled feet. Then I just had to wait for my dad's old navy-blue duffle to wind its way through.

Walking out from the arrivals exit, the heat hit me straight in the face, but with a pleasantry that only came from the Italian Riviera. I sighed happily and slid my Dior sunglasses over my eyes. They were a gift from my last boyfriend, but for that price, there was no way they'd be going to the tip like the rest of his stuff.

Before looking for my taxi, I stepped to the side to toss my curls into a high bun. There was no way I'd make it through a hot taxi ride with probably no air conditioning with my thick black locks hanging around my neck and face. Once I was satisfied with the look after a quick check in a nearby parked car window, I lit a cigarette and checked my phone again for the licence plate number of the taxi I'd be taking to the dock.

Glancing around, my eyes landed on a sleek black Tesla. My eyebrows raised, sliding the glasses down my nose, I double-checked its plate number with my phone once more. If this luxury travel was anything to go by, this charter season, I was in for a treat.

"Grazie mille." I said as the kind man, who I learned was named Tullio, tried to carefully remove my heavy bag from the boot of the car. "It's okay you can just drop it." He smiled and wiped his brow and began to wheel it up the dock. I rushed to stump out my second cigarette on the top of the nearest bin, then trotted to catch up with him, attempting to take the handle from him. "Oh, please, um, per favore, I can take it from here." He waved me off and gestured for me to lead on. I blew a few stray curls from my forehead, smiled tight-lipped at him and stepped to start making my way up the dock.

Mega-yacht after mega-yacht passed by as I searched for the one I'd been hired on, Andiamo. I felt the awkwardness creep up my spine at the thought of meeting the crew and captain alongside Tullio. I didn't want them to think I was one of those stewardesses. I already knew that I'd give that impression with my choice of designer bag - even if it was a knock-off. I didn't need a small, sweaty Italian man in a too-tight suit trailing behind me with it to make that worse.

"Ah, here we are, grazie, Tullio." I smiled widely, stopping outside a random boat. He looked at me, one bushy brow raised in question, then shook his head and continued up the dock. My face fell and I followed him sheepishly. He must have thought I was barmy.

As we approached the end of the dock, I spotted a tall man, arms folded, looking sharp in a uniform. He was standing at the stern of a boat that the closer we approached became clear to be named, Andiamo. I couldn't see how many stripes were on his uniform but my guess was that he was the captain. The rattling of my suitcase along the creaky wooden boards of the dock grabbed his attention and he opened his arms wide, laughing sharply before clapping his hands twice.

"Ciao, bella!" The man on the boat exclaimed loudly in a very American twang, making poor Tullio jump slightly and mutter incoherently in Italian. The dock was so quiet otherwise. I smiled and brought one hand to shield my eyes and the other up to wave at him. He jogged around the side of the huge ship, practically skipped down the passerelle and hopped onto the dock as we met in the middle. "Welcome, Scarlett!" He yelled, even though we were barely two steps apart. Americans.

"Ciao, you must be-"

"Captain Bobby, a pleasure to meet you." He held a hand out for me to shake, which I did with gusto - always eager to make a good first impression and wanting to match his energy. He turned to Tullio who stood beside me. "Signore, grazie, I'll take it from here." Bobby nodded, but Tullio didn't move. "Oh, right." Bobby jumped into action, patting the pockets of his trousers in search of his wallet. Pulling it from the back of his very tight white trousers, he plucked out a note and handed it to Tullio who saluted us both and meandered back up the dock. Bobby sighed awkwardly while putting his wallet back, but he recovered quickly. "Alright, let's get you on board." He clapped his hands again, rubbing them together before hoisting my suitcase onto his shoulder with surprising ease. My eyes wandered to the bulging muscle of his upper arms in his smart white shirt and epaulettes, but only for a second before I shook it off and followed him up the passerelle, kicking off my shoes in the process.

"She's a beauty, Captain." I said, glancing around the gorgeous boat before me.

"Yeah, we've got ourselves a looker, that's for sure!" He shouted again, leading me into the bridge.

"So, Scarlett-" He said, placing my suitcase onto the pristine burgundy carpet and rolling it to sit in the corner.

"Oh, please, call me Lettie. It's what all my other boats called me." I corrected with a shrug and a smile. He nodded.

"Alright, Lettie. I've obviously read over your resume many times, but please, tell me a bit about yourself." He leaned back against the arm of the big leather captain's chair and folded his arms across his chest. He smiled and I noticed how kind his eyes were, with the way they crinkled at the corners. He was a pretty young captain from my experience, I hoped that that fact would bode well.

"Well, I'm 27 years old, I'm from Liverpool originally but I've been travelling and yachting since I was 19. I've just come from a season in Oz which was a 74-footer, and I-"

"ROBERT?!" I jolted slightly at the loud interruption that sounded like it came from the dock. I whipped around whilst the captain clapped his hands again and laughed as he squeezed my shoulder, darting out of the door. I frowned as I watched him leave and moved to look at what all the fuss was about.

"Hey hey! Harold! You're looking fresh, my man!" I leaned against the small entryway to the bridge to watch the captain jog to meet a long-haired man at the end of the passerelle. The man had round black sunglasses on, a patterned shirt that was undone to just past his chest, and loose brown shorts. He'd brought half his wardrobe if his baggage was anything to go by. I counted four black duffle bags that were bursting at the seams resting on the dock. It's a good job Tullio only had to pick me up from the airport...

"You're telling me?! Get in here you handsome bastard." The two men hugged closely, clapping their hands on each other's backs. I rolled my eyes at the bro fest and stepped back into the bridge to wander down the stairs and through to the interior of the boat. It was beautiful; varnished wooden surfaces, a luxurious curved sofa as a centrepiece, all leading to wall-to-wall double glass doors that led out to a stunning view from the aft deck, and loads of vast space. I ran my finger along a windowsill and lifted it to see a coat of dust. Sure, it was stunning, but it was fucking filthy. I sighed and looked out the window, I imagined who I would be working with and hoped that they were ready to put in some hard work because I wanted to make good money this season. I heard the low timbre of male voices approaching again and turned to see them coming down the winding stairs, still chatting and catching up.

"Ah, there she is! Harry, this is Scarlett- oh sorry, I mean Lettie. Our chief stewardess for the season." I smiled at the men and stepped to extend my hand to shake.

"Great to meet you, Scarlett. I'm the bosun." He said, smiling around a deep British accent. As he took my palm in his, I noticed how rough his hands were, the classic sign of a deckie.

"You too, Harry. You're quite young for a bosun, eh?" He shrugged and smirked.

"Maybe I'm not as young as you think."

"Harry's been my first mate for three years now, we were on another boat though. I trust you guys will work well together to figure out everything on Andiamo." I nodded dutifully and hoped that Harry wouldn't be what I suspected he'd be from first impressions. But something deep inside me secretly hoped that he would. I supposed that only time would tell.

We walked further into the interior and on down to the crew mess. The captain led the way through to explain where the crew quarters were. I was surprised by how big the space for the crew was, my previous boat had had tiny living quarters. "So, Lettie you'll have two stews under you, a girl and a guy, if I remember correctly." I nodded. "And you've actually got the same under you, H."

"Nothing new there then," Harry smirked to the captain, who rolled his eyes playfully.

"I don't wanna know, man." Captain Bobby put his hands up in surrender and wandered back out to the mess. Harry glanced back at me and I quirked a brow in his direction, before moving past him to check where the uniforms had been stored.

Just as I started sifting through the laundry room and placing uniforms into piles for everyone, I heard the captain yelling again above. The crew mess was normally very soundproof, due to all the debauchery that usually took place there - he was really that loud. I guessed that more crew were arriving.

"Hey, Harry what size t-shirt are you?" I called out to him.

"Depends, is it Fruit of the Loom?"

"Um, no. They're unbranded." I looked at the label on the neck of the bright teal-coloured shirt in my hand. I walked back out to the mess to see him sprawled out on the bench seat, munching on an apple. He'd put his shoulder-length hair into a bun that didn't look much different to my own. "They're soft though. This one's a large? What do you think?" He jumped up from where he sat in the mess and bared his chest, holding the apple in his teeth. I scoffed a laugh and held up the shirt to his chest, he nodded with a smirk, his dimples poking through each side of the apple.

"This'll do, Scar." He took the shirt from me and put it over his shoulder as he took another bite of his apple, moving past me to go into his room. My move to return to the laundry room was halted by a girl coming down the stairs.

"Hi! I'm Marnie!" The girl exclaimed, her blonde hair whipping to catch up with how quickly she'd bounded down the stairs. She pulled on the straps of her enormous backpack to readjust it on her tiny shoulders.

"Oh, hi Marnie, I'm Scarlett. But you can call me Lettie." I smiled and shook her hand and tried not to be blinded by her perfect white teeth, bared in a bright smile. "I'm the chief stew."

"Great! I'm a deckie." She explained, her strong Australian accent caused a ripple of warmth through my veins. I already missed Oz. Hearing footsteps, I turned back to see Harry jogging through the narrow corridor towards us.

"Is that a deckie, I hear?" He said, still chomping on his half-eaten apple. "Hey, I'm Harry, bosun" Marnie didn't miss a beat, opening her arms up to signal a hug, which caused Harry to hesitate slightly before accepting.

"I'm so excited for this season! Is anyone else here yet?"

"Just us and Cap so far."

"Oh, pick of the rooms then!" Marnie winked, if her speech was written down, every sentence would be finished off with an exclamation mark. I loved her already. I led her to the bedroom next to Harry's, which she'd be sharing with the engineer, who, I was pleased to see, was also female.

I continued sorting through the laundry, placing fresh uniform packs onto each of the free beds. Each pack had a pair of white shirts with epaulettes, corresponding to each role, a pair of teal polo shirts, and a pair of shorts or a skort, depending on the person. Then I started unpacking in my room.

I was in the middle of organising my knickers and bras neatly into a drawer when I heard a crash. Rushing out into the hallway I was met with Harry's confused face across from me. We looked at each other for a second before he tilted his head for me to lead the way towards the crew mess.

I gasped, "Oh, Christ, are you okay?" I reached to help the girl that was trying to lift herself up off her enormous, metallic silver, hardshell suitcase that was lying flat on the polished wooden floor.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Sorry, I'm so embarrassed."

"Did you fall down all those stairs?" I asked, Harry moved the suitcase to sit back on its four wheels, rolling it to the side of the crew mess table. The girl nodded, rubbing her elbow.

"Why didn't you get Cap to carry your suitcase down here for you? Or he could've radioed me." Harry leaned against the table, folding his arms across his chest. I took her arm in my hands and turned it inspect the possible damage.

"Wanted to do it myself." The girl said in a smaller voice. She was so petite, but I could see the lines of muscles in her bare arms, she probably could have done it herself if the stairs weren't so narrow. "I'm fine, honestly. I'll just go to my room." She shrugged her arm out of my grasp and moved towards her case. I frowned in her direction and caught Harry's eye as she moved down the hallway, he smirked, confirming that we'd both had the same thought. She was a stew.

"Um, hey, I can let you know which room you're in, what's your name?"

"Molly," she sighed in an accent I could tell hailed from either New York or Boston. "I'm second stew, I think." She stopped and glanced to look at me expectantly.

"Oh, yes. I'm Scarlett, but you can call me Lettie. I'm chief stew." I smiled slightly, I felt like I was treading on eggshells around this girl. "You're in with me," I said, beckoning her towards our room. "I hope you don't mind the top bunk, I just prefer to be on the ground." I laughed lightly. Molly smiled tight-lipped at me and lifted her suitcase up onto the top bunk with minimal effort. I knew it.

We continued to unpack in silence, I hoped that this frost that had come to rest upon the beginnings of our relationship was temporarily caused by her unwanted trip down the stairs. I'd just finished making my bed when I heard another voice, this time deep and masculine, I counted my lucky stars as I left the room.

"Hi!" It was my turn to say everything with an exclamation mark. The man jumped as I rushed towards him. He had dark shades on and just a large backpack slung over one shoulder. His megawatt smile made my belly flip - he was fucking gorgeous. "Sorry, I'm Scarlett, I'm the chief stew." Stepping forward, I collected myself and held a hand for him to shake. His bulging muscle flexed as he shook it, before lifting his shades to sit on his head and slinging his backpack to the floor.

"So nice to meet you Scarlett, I'm Jesse. I'm a steward." I quirked my brow at him, but inwardly rolled my eyes at myself for assuming that he would be a deckie.

"Nice to meet you, too! Looking forward to working with you this season. Let me show you where you'll be staying." I led Jesse to where he'd be staying with the male deckhand and left him to settle in and unpack.

I looked at my Apple Watch and decided to take a smoke break before heading up to start organising the boat. I let both of my stews know to be ready to help within the hour and headed up to the aft deck.

The sun was just beginning to set over the line where the sky met the steady waves of the sea. I sat on the teak and slid my legs through the bars to dangle over the edge of the boat. Taking a cigarette out of the personalised case my Grandma had given me and lit one. I sighed the smoke out and swung my legs back and forth in front of me, leaning an arm back to rest on. I thought about quitting every time I left a boat - smoking that is. But every time I boarded a new one all I could think about was having a ciggy out on the deck. It was just too easy, the culture was smoking and, to be honest, I'd find myself desperate for one after a hard day on charter.

I took another deep drag and brought my gaze to the crystal-clear water below me. I watched two bright blue fish swim in circular patterns, one of them chasing the other. I smiled softly, leaning my chin on my arm on the metal rail. The warm breeze blew through my curls and made me feel content for a few moments.

"Hey, mind if I knick one of those?" I jumped slightly at the interference of my peace but recognised Harry's low timbre. I turned to face him, his figure stood in the golden sunshine, making him look rather yummy. I nodded and passed him my case and lighter. He flicked it open as he swung his legs through the bars to sit beside me. Lighting up, he looked closer at the metal case, turning it in his hand. He ran his thumb across the raised imagery and wording. "Is this supposed to be you?"

I laughed, blowing another puff of smoke through my lips and nostrils. "What do you think?"

"I think if it's an accurate portrayal, I can't wait to see you in a bikini." I laughed again, taking the case back and looking at it myself. On the front, there was an illustration of an extremely voluptuous woman, naked apart from the flames engulfing her intimate parts. Her head was tilted back, eyes hooded and mouth agape sensually. But her flowing dark curls were where our similarities ended, I could assure him that much.

Yeah, nana wasn't your average grandma.

"I bet. Shame I only brought one-pieces, then, isn't it?" I said, side-eyeing him as I blew more fumes from my lips. I moved to put the case to my side on the teak.

"Ah, I'm sure I've got something you can borrow." He rebuffed casually, looking out to the sunset before us. I side-eyed him harder.

"You've brought bikinis?" I questioned, running my tongue along my the edges of my top teeth in curiosity, a slight lift in the corner of my mouth.

"One or two may have ended up in my suitcase, comes with the territory." I scoffed and rolled my eyes playfully at his cocky wink in my direction. He was one of those guys who had a permanent smirk on his lips. I always got on with guys like that, at least at first. I was never one to take to people who took life too seriously. They usually ended up taking the joke a step too far though.

I decided to chance it and give him a once over as he looked out to sea. His hair was still pulled back in a hair tie, with wispy baby hairs dancing in the warm breeze. Green eyes, squinting in the sunlight but still glittering in the reflection of the ocean beneath us. He had a prominent nose with large nostrils, but it only served to enhance his distinctive face. He interrupted gruffly, a slight cough directed into a fist brought to his mouth. "You should know that. Been in the industry for an age, haven't you."

I glanced back outwards, lining up the tip of my cigarette between my two fingers with the edge of where the sky met the sea. "Certainly feels that way," I mumbled slightly, closing one eye as the scorched tip continued to sizzle away. "Yachting years are like dog years. My body would definitely agree." I decided not to question how he knew the length of time I'd been yachting, it wasn't uncommon for staff to read each other's files before a season, especially the bosun.

"Your body definitely speaks for itself." Harry side-eyed me again, taking a long pull from his cigarette over smirking lips. He was going hard, but I couldn't afford to let my imagination run too wild. He was the bosun and as the chief stew, we needed to have a strong relationship onboard. Which meant avoiding a catastrophic relationship off-board. Although, I let my mind wander to all the ways I could make him feel catastrophic.

Shaking my head and ridding myself of the thoughts, I stubbed my cigarette out in the crystal ashtray I'd found behind the bar in the main salon and moved to stand.

"Alright, pretty boy," I said, before leaning down to speak into his ear, hands squeezing his broad shoulders. "I think it's time we did some work, yeah?" With that, I left him with a parting tap, but I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. Looking into my reflection before the double glass doors began to slide open, the suspicion was confirmed with a glance at him behind me.

This was going to be one hell of a season.