#big scoop ice cream shop

[prankprincess123]

Theres a startling number of tourists who come in to the ice-cream shop asking what vegan options we have, and I'm just like "Ma'am, this is a town with approximately 10 permanent residents, where you can buy handmade moccasins next door. We are naught but simple country folks who drink milk and eat meat, both of which came from farms down the road."

[missacensnakelover]

The Gangreen Gang all here enjoying double scoop ice cream cones while at the mall here!

Made by me! (x)

[ms-demeanor]

When I worked at the second coffee shop we had three sizes of ice cream, junior, single, and double, and they were all a *lot* of ice cream.

People would come up to the counter and ask for a double with strawberry and cookie dough and I'd say "you might want to do a single or junior with two flavors instead of a double, a double is really big" and they wouldn't listen, and it was always a delight to watch their eyes open in mild panic as the scoops materialized in front of them.

But the *best* was when a kid would ask "dad can i have a double scoop?" And I'd say "you might want a junior scoop with two flavors, they're big scoops" and the parent would say "no, he wants a double" because i worked at that coffee shop for six years and I had a lot of time to practice and very strong arms and I could easily pack a pint and a half of ice cream on top of a sugar cone, and I did so with gleeful abandon every time someone made that mistake and the kids *loved* it when I'd pass the cone over and it would almost tip out of their hands with the weight of the ice cream.

Kids who ordered a junior cone *also* got a truly unmanageable amount of ice cream, but that was never as amusing to me as watching the parents' reactions as I was shoveling a monkey's paw worth of ice cream into a waffle cone and they couldn't change their mind mid-scoop because after all I *had* warned them and backing out after telling me to go ahead would be admitting defeat.

Anyway. If you were a kid who had an unwieldy double scoop at Bean Town Coffee Bar from 2005 to 2011, I hope you had as much fun with your ice cream as I did.

[witchywithwhiskey]

first and last

pairing: childhood best friend!steve rogers x female reader

summary: after more than a decade away from your home town—and your childhood best friend—you return. everything is exactly the same, but also, entirely different.

warnings: 18+ content (minors dni!!!), fluff, angst, smut, drunken antics, some arguing, drunk masturbation (f) with an audience, semi-public, choking, dirty talk, praise kink, begging, boundaries, very light bdsm vibes, references to past sexual intimacy (piv sex, oral sex [f receiving]), nicknames (buttercup, baby), aftercare

word count: 8.8k

a/n: this is my entry in @the-slumberparty's Sundae Bar Challenge, and i've been working on it since june so i'm very excited to post it!!! i wanted to make a sundae i'd actually eat so i used the prompts Butterscotch (childhood friends) and Caramel (drunk/delirious/not in their right mind). it also might be a bit literal to have Steve working at an ice cream shop but whatever!!

i mentioned when i teased this fic that i'd thought about turning it into a much longer story/potentially saving it for a novel, but honestly i just don't know when or if i'll ever have time to do that. but these scenes don't necessarily follow right after each other, so if they feel disconnected, that's why. they're just the ones i wanted to write 😅

The sidewalk of Brambleberry Cove was warm from a full day under the August sun, the concrete gritty with sand beneath your bare feet as you walked the rest of the short distance to Seaside Scoops from your rental house a few blocks away. 

The sun dipped low on the western horizon, casting long shadows over the coastal town like stretching fingers reaching for the Atlantic Ocean. You could hear the steady sound of the crashing waves over the near distant sand dunes, their rhythm a background to your walk. 

It could’ve been a peaceful moment—you were back in your home town, surrounded by familiar sights and sounds and smells. But you were in a wretched mood, and all you could focus on was everything wrong with the world and your current place in it.

There was, of course, the throbbing pain in your big toe from when you’d stubbed it moments ago on the cursed, charming sidewalk, as well as the slight sting on the sides of your foot where your flip flop straps had torn. Your ruined shoes dangled from your fingers because Brambleberry Cove didn’t have a trash can on every street corner like the city you were accustomed to living in. 

In addition to those grievances, the straps of your bathing suit—which you hadn’t worn in far too long and hadn’t realized had become too small—were digging into your shoulders and hips uncomfortably. And, though you’d only been walking for five minutes from the little bungalow you were renting, your thighs were already beginning to chafe beneath the simple dress you’d thrown on. 

All told, you were not in the mood to appreciate the simple beauty of Brambleberry Cove. Instead of admiring the sun-bleached cottages that gave way to the small coastal shops lining main street, and letting yourself sink into the comfort of being back in your tiny beachside home town, you were fixated on everything wrong in your life—both in that moment and the larger scheme of things.

In your defense, though, there was a lot wrong in your life. There’d had to be to get you back to your home town after so long away. 

There was the dream job you’d lost, the ex who’d left you for someone else, and the friends who’d all promised to be there for you, but then vanished when you actually needed help. The only people who’d come through for you were your parents, who’d had a friend willing to rent a little Brambleberry Cove bungalow to you for a fraction of its normal summer price since it was already August and they weren’t going to make much more money anyway. 

You’d had to pack up and leave the city where you’d built your life for 15 years, and move back to your home town, which you hadn’t seen in nearly that long since your parents had moved out west shortly after you’d graduated high school. Being back home made you feel like you weren’t only taking a single step backward, but moving leaps and bounds in the wrong direction. It made you feel like a failure. 

But you tried not to think about all that on your short walk to Seaside Scoops, instead focusing on the pain in your toe and the digging ache of your bathing suit. 

By the time you saw the familiar neon sign for the ice cream shop, it felt like finding an oasis in the desert. You picked up your pace, ignoring the way your body protested, the soles of your feet no longer used to walking on the sandy sidewalk like you’d done countless times growing up in Brambleberry Cove. 

You could see through the window that there was a short line in Seaside Scoops, and you hurriedly pushed through the door of the shop. Once inside, you breathed in the familiar scent of sugar and hot fudge and reveled in the feel of the air conditioner ghosting over your sun-warmed shoulders. 

Surreptitiously, you shoved your ruined flip flops into the garbage just inside the door and got in line behind the couple with their two small children. You glanced around the shop, not really taking it in, and hoped whoever was working behind the counter was still lax on the ‘no shirt, no shoes, no service’ rule that had theoretically been in place since before you were born—but had never been enforced in practice. 

Finally looking to the counter, wondering idly if you’d recognize who was working or if it’d be some local teen that had been a baby the last time you’d been to Brambleberry Cove, you were shocked to see who was working at Seaside Scoops. Your belly swooped like you were standing on a boat on the choppy sea, your heart racing when you recognized the man behind the counter. At one time, he’d been the boy you’d shared so much of your childhood with, so many of your summers with. 

When you got a good look at him, you were almost surprised you recognized him so fast. He was no longer the scrawny teenager you’d left behind when you’d gone off to college and never looked back. He looked so different from the boy you’d known well enough you could recall his face in perfect detail, but, in so many ways, exactly the same.

On the whole, it was a shock to see the man Steve Rogers had become. 

Sandy brown hair fell on either side of his handsome, suntanned face, swept back like he had a habit of running his hands through it countless times a day. A short, well-kept beard decorated his strong jaw, bracketing a set of soft pink lips that were curved in a devastating grin. His bright blue eyes sparkled beneath the fluorescent lights of the shop, and when he spoke to the family in front of you in line, his voice rumbled like the distant roar of the ocean.

Seeing Steve Rogers for the first time in over 15 years made something loosen in your chest, anxiety uncoiling from around your heart and shaking free for the first time in a long time. A sense of safety and comfort washed over you, and you had the sudden thought that this was how you were supposed to feel about coming home. 

But you shoved that thought aside and continued your perusal of your childhood best friend, making note of all the ways he’d changed from the boy you’d known.

Thick, golden biceps were bare and bulging beneath the edge of his white t-shirt, and dense, brown hair covered corded forearms as Steve folded his arms on top of the ice cream case. He was tall—tall enough to lean over the case to talk to the kids with the couple in front of you, asking them about their favorite ice cream flavors and if they’d like to try anything new.

The kids, a boy and a girl, both stared up at him with wide eyes, shyness and wonder clear in their twin expressions. They looked to their parents for permission before shyly revealing what flavors they’d like to try. Steve gave a deep, hearty chuckle at their timidness, and complimented them on their choices, which seemed to make them both loosen up a bit.

Inexplicable heat flushed through your body at the sound of Steve’s deep laughter, and the easiness with which he interacted with the kids. You’d never been particularly good with children, mainly because you’d never had much of a chance to interact with any, and you’d never felt any particular desire to be around them. But seeing Steve looking like he did talking to those kids made your belly swoop again and something inside you pulse with a need you didn’t want to fully unpack.

Shoving those thoughts into a box in the back corner of your mind, you forced yourself to look away from your childhood friend and up at the menu that listed all the ice cream flavors. You’d been to Seaside Scoops hundreds of times in your life, if not thousands, and, at one time, you’d had the list memorized. 

Hopefully you still had that knowledge tucked away somewhere in your brain, because you weren’t taking in anything you were reading as you not-so-patiently waited for Steve to finish up with the customers in front of you.

It felt like forever, and by the time the family took their cups and cones of ice cream toward the side door that opened up into an outdoor seating area, you’d already cycled through three rounds of the same argument with yourself about why you should leave Seaside Scoops without talking to Steve. You couldn’t imagine your first conversation in 15 years going well.

But you couldn’t leave without talking to him. Not when he was right there and it had been so long and you were dying to know everything that he’d done in the last 15 years since you saw him last. 

Still, it took you a few extra seconds to gather the courage to lower your eyes from the menu board and finally look at your childhood friend. When you did, your gaze caught immediately on Steve’s, and your heart gave a little flip at the devastatingly charming smile on his impossibly handsome face.

“Hey there, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, his tone as friendly and familiar as it had always been. All of a sudden, it felt like no time had passed at all. 

“Hi, Steve,” you said, trying for the same casualness he’d achieved, but your voice sounded faint and faraway in your ears. The corners of your mouth flickered in a tremulous smile.

You couldn’t understand the surge of emotion filling your chest and rising in your throat, pricking at the backs of your eyes like you wanted to throw yourself into your oldest friend’s arms and sob about everything wrong in your life. 

The same deluge of emotion had hit you when you’d stubbed your toe on your walk to Seaside Scoops and you’d had to stand there by yourself, sucking in deep breaths of salty Brambleberry Cove air, nails biting into the flesh of your palms to keep yourself from breaking down. 

Just as you’d done then, you beat back the emotion, blinking your eyes rapidly to rid them of tears. Still, a thought needled you as you stood across the counter from Steve—the knowledge that if you did let yourself break down and cry, he wouldn’t hesitate to fold you into that broad chest of his, wrapping you up in his thick arms and holding you so securely, the world might not seem so grim anymore. 

You chalked it up to nostalgia and the rough time you were having, forcing yourself to take a deep breath and paste on a bright smile. Casting your eyes around Seaside Scoops, you pretended to give the place a real look, though you didn’t really notice much as you continued to blink back tears. 

“You work here now?” you asked lightly, looking at the new standee in the corner.

It was a cartoon shark holding up a sign advertising Seaside Scoops and their many ice cream flavors. But what caught your eye was that it looked a bit like the shark Steve had drawn for you when you’d gotten a bad grade sophomore year and wanted to cheer you up. It even had the same little sailor hat sitting perched on top of his head—which only made sense because sharks didn’t have blowholes, he’d told you at the time.

You’d smiled then, and you smiled again remembering it.

“Uhh,” Steve started, and you turned tear-free eyes back on your old friend, your gaze drawn to the way his bicep bulged against the sleeve of his t-shirt as he scuffed the back of his neck. There was a little bit of a sheepish tinge to his smile. “I actually own Scoops now,” he said in a rush, like he was confessing to something, though you couldn’t imagine what. “I bought it when Mr. Wallace retired down to Florida.”

“Oh,” was all you could think to say, glancing around the ice cream shop with a keener eye.

The shark standee wasn’t the only new thing in the place. Everything, from the tables and chairs to the menu board and counter, looked slightly newer than you remembered. Nothing was wildly different, which was why you hadn’t noticed it when you first looked around. Everything just looked better than it should if it had aged a decade since you’d last stepped into the shop.

Something about it made you think Seaside Scoops looked exactly like your memory of it—but the polished, perfect version in your head, instead of the place as it had been. Yellowed with age and a lack of upkeep. It was genuinely astounding what Steve had done with the place and it took you a few moments to find the right words, though they still felt pale in comparison to the bittersweet nostalgia in your heart.

“The place looks great,” you said with a half smile as you turned back to Steve. A small thread of pride wormed through your heart at seeing what your oldest friend had accomplished and your smile widened when he brightened under your praise. “I like the shark,” you said, hooking a thumb over your shoulder at the standee. 

A bit of pink tinted Steve’s cheeks above his beard, and he cleared his throat. 

“Is a dipped twist still your favorite?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject and your smile dimmed just a little. The Steve you’d known had been shy about showing his art to anyone but you, and it seemed that you’d been gone long enough to be lumped in with everyone else. 

You swallowed back a lump in your throat and nodded. “Yeah, that’s still my favorite,” you answered, more than a little surprised Steve remembered your order.

Sure, you’d gone to Seaside Scoops together countless times as kids. It had been your hangout spot for most of your childhood, and even into your teen years. You’d study together over a cup of cookie dough with sprinkles for Steve and a cone of vanilla and chocolate softserve dipped in chocolate sauce for you. But that was more than a decade ago.

Your heart gave a heavy squeeze when you remembered the night before you’d left Brambleberry Cove, the way Steve reminded you of the promise you’d made as children—that you’d always be friends. Your stomach twisted into knots as you were confronted with the reality that you hadn’t kept up your end of the deal. You’d left, and you’d allowed your oldest friend to become a stranger. 

You wondered if Steve remembered the promise you’d made, the reminder he’d given you as a parting gift, or if he’d forgotten. You wondered if he’d ever want to be friends again.

Steve’s back was to you, his wrist flicking expertly beneath the softserve machine as he filled up a sugar cone with the twist of chocolate and vanilla. You forced yourself to push aside the memories of the past, blinking back more tears before Steve could catch them in your eyes. 

You and Steve weren’t friends anymore, and you needed to accept that. It was unreasonable to hold him to a promise he’d made more than two decades ago, especially when you were the one who’d left and had barely tried to stay in touch between college classes and exploring your new city.

With a great amount of effort, you kept your mind blissfully blank as you let your gaze trail idly over Steve’s broad back, unable to stop yourself from noticing just how wide his shoulders were, or the way they moved beneath the soft, worn cotton of his t-shirt. He really did fill out the shirt well, his sides tapering down to a thin waist. And his ass looked particularly good in the curve-hugging denim of his jeans. 

As Steve turned around, you raised your eyes quickly and arranged your expression into one of innocence. Steve paused, giving you a shrewd look like he would’ve done when you were teenagers and you were hiding something from him, but then he just shook his head and laughed under his breath, turning to the chocolate sauce where he’d dip your ice cream cone. 

“So, what brings you back to Brambleberry Cove, buttercup?” Steve asked, his gaze focusing on dipping your ice cream just right, a look of determination on his face that was endlessly endearing. 

You grimaced at the exact moment he glanced up at you, and he chuckled at the face you made. The sound was smooth as warm caramel and sent a new wave of heat rolling down your spine. 

“That bad, huh?” he asked, genuine interest in his tone.

Although there was a point in your life when you could’ve told Steve anything, and the urge to do so still lingered deep in your bones, you knew your relationship was different. You couldn’t dump all your problems on your childhood friend after not talking to him for 15 years. You didn’t even know if you were still friends anymore. 

Plus, there was a small crowd gathering behind you as the late dinner rush started to filter into Seaside Scoops. Even if you’d wanted to tell Steve everything that had happened to you in the 15 years since you’d last seen him, it wasn’t the time. 

So you just gave him a sad smile and accepted the ice cream cone from Steve’s hand, ignoring the butterflies and ticklish warmth that fluttered through your body at his touch. You gripped the sugar cone tight—but not too tight—so you didn’t fumble it. 

“Yeah,” you whispered in answer to his question, leaving it at that. There was an awkward beat, and your eyes dropped to the ice cream that was already beginning to melt despite the air conditioning in the shop. Thankfully, you had an easy way to move past Steve’s questions. 

You pulled some cash from the wristlet where you’d also stashed your phone and I.D., asking, “What do I owe you?” because you figured it must’ve been more expensive than what you remembered. And you didn’t want to risk looking up at the menu and catching Steve’s eye, not wanting any of the emotions or heat that seemed to flood you whenever you looked at him.

But a large, warm, golden hand closed over your fumbling fingers, startling you enough to look up into the sky blue eyes of your childhood friend. Your lips fell open in surprise as tingling warmth worked its way up your arm from your hand, wrapping around your heart and making it beat harder. 

For a long moment, you simply stared at each other. Steve really had grown up and changed so much, the evidence in the weathered grooves of his forehead and the lines between his brows, but his eyes still looked the same—soft as clouds, warm as the summer sun. 

“It’s on the house,” he murmured, his voice low and earnest, the thrum of some emotion you couldn’t identify laced through his words. “It was nice to see an old friend,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze before he pulled his away.

It wasn’t until Steve straightened up to his full height that you realized he’d been leaning over the counter, and your faces had been very close together. Heat crept into your cheeks at the realization that Steve had been in your personal space, and all you’d thought about was his eyes. 

Shoving all the money in your hand into the tip jar, you muttered, “Thanks, Steve.” As you zipped up your wristlet, you noticed that some of your ice cream was in danger of dripping onto your hand.

Without thinking, you licked quickly around the edge of the sugar cone, a soft moan slipping free when the cool sweetness of the ice cream hit your brain.

Steve made a strangled sound that dragged your attention away from your treat, finding your childhood best friend looking away and coughing into his fist, a deeper pink flushing his cheeks. You quirked your eyebrow in confusion when he looked back at you, but his expression gave nothing away and you had to wonder if you’d imagined the noise. It had almost sounded…aroused.

Shaking that thought clear from your mind, you gave Steve a smile and began to step away from the counter so he could help the next customer.

Steve’s eyes lingered on you, and he offered you one last charming, friendly smile, raising his hand in a wave. “Don’t be a stranger, buttercup,” he rumbled, his low words managing to reach your ears over the chatter in the shop. He gave you a long look, emotion swirling in those familiar eyes of his, and your breath caught in your throat.

The intensity of his gaze and the warmth in his parting words hit you straight in the gut, and you stood stunned in front of the register while Steve turned and walked to the other end of the ice cream case to help the next people in line. 

For a long moment, you couldn’t get over the way Steve had been able to read your mind, to pluck the thought that you were strangers to each other out of your brain and then tell you he didn’t want that to be the case. Your mind raced with questions. Did he still think of you as friends? Did he remember the promise you’d made all those years ago to always be friends? How did he know the exact right thing to say? 

But then the rational side of your brain resurfaced from wherever your heart had momentarily buried it, and you remembered his farewell was a normal thing for people to say to each other. Especially people who hadn’t seen each other in a while and likely would again because they both lived in a very small town. That’s all it was, just a normal goodbye. 

Not Steve Rogers somehow reading your mind because he knew you so well. 

With those rationalities ringing in your head, you dashed out of Seaside Scoops and it wasn’t until your feet had carried you to the next block that you remembered your broken shoes and stubbed toe and chafed thighs. 

But those problems didn’t seem quite so bad anymore. Not with the delicious ice cream cone in your hand, and the sunset casting Brambleberry Cove in gorgeous, golden light—and especially not with Steve’s warm, honeyed voice ringing in your head, calling you buttercup. 

It had felt so normal to hear the nickname roll off Steve’s tongue that you hadn’t even thought about it, hadn’t realized how long it had been since you’d last heard it. But, just as it had when you were younger, it filled your chest with a bright, golden warmth. You grinned to yourself as you strolled back to your little bungalow, licking up the melting ice cream as fast as you could.

Your mood was decidedly better, and you enjoyed the walk home, refusing to think too much about why exactly you felt lighter and happier and less miserable about being home in Brambleberry Cove than you had before going to Seaside Scoops. It was just the ice cream, obviously. There was no other reason.

“You’re staring.” Steve’s voice was low, the undercurrent of laughter in it almost mixing with the sounds of the distant waves. You could hear them through the open windows of his truck as he eased the vehicle down the winding road leading away from the docks on the north side of Brambleberry Cove. 

His comment dragged you out of your drunken haze, and you took a deep breath to get your bearings. Your lungs filled with the salty nighttime air of the sea and the earthy leather interior of your childhood best friend’s truck, a small smile curling the corners of your lips and your eyes sliding closed. When you forced them back open, you realized he was right.

Huh, you really were staring at Steve. 

Your head was swiveled to the side, your cheek pressed to the brown leather of the seat back, your eyes fixed on the profile of his face that was highlighted in the glossy silver of the moon and warmed by the golden light of the town’s street lamps. 

You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel embarrassed or ashamed for staring at Steve, though. And it was at that moment you realized you were drunk. 

It didn’t surprise you. After all, you were the one who’d thrown on some jean shorts and a cute top and then took yourself to Shanty’s, the only place in Brambleberry Cove to go if you were a local looking to avoid tourists. 

You’d been happy to see Bucky Barnes, your other oldest friend after Steve, manning the bar. But you’d been much less happy with him when he’d insisted on calling Steve to take you home after you’d downed more than your fair share of liquor. 

It was probably for the best, though. You were drunk and horny and if you weren’t careful, you would’ve gone home with Brock Rumlow. Just thinking about it made you grimace at yourself and your poor almost-decisions. 

Focusing back on Steve, you couldn’t fault Bucky too much for calling your old friend to pick you up—not when it had ended with you able to watch his side profile while he kept his eyes on the road. It felt practically shameful to indulge yourself so much. That is, if you’d had any shame left, but you’d drowned it all in alcohol.

“You’re still staring, buttercup,” Steve rumbled, the humor clearer in his tone. The edges of his mouth were flickering beneath the silvery golden light of Brambleberry Cove at night and you knew he was trying to suppress a smile. It was fascinating to watch, but then Steve rubbed his hand across his mouth, scrubbing through his beard, and it broke you free of your drunken trance.

“I just can’t get over how different you look,” you huffed, raising your arms and flopping them back against the seat in your best approximation of a shrug. “And how exactly the same.” 

Steve barked a laugh, the sharp sound bringing a smile instantly to your face. You’d never heard him laugh like that, and you couldn’t help but love that you were still discovering new things about him, even after knowing him all your life. 

He glanced over at you, his expression bemused like he was sure you were drunker than he’d thought. You probably were, but that didn’t stop you from being right, and you tried to convey that in the brief moment he looked at you. 

Steve’s gaze slid quickly down your body, not like he was checking you out—more like he was checking to make sure your seatbelt was still buckled and you weren’t in danger of doing anything ridiculous. You were only in danger of saying ridiculous things, at least, according to him apparently. He shook his head after he’d turned back to watching the road.

“You’re gonna have to explain that one to me, buttercup,” Steve said, a little bit of gruffness in his tone. He cleared his throat before he went on. “Usually when someone we went to high school with comes back, they tell me they never woulda recognized me.” 

You gave an unladylike snort, drawing another surprised laugh out of Steve before he bit off the sound to let you speak.

“Well those people should have their eyes checked,” you muttered scornfully, pushing yourself up from where you’d been slumped against the warm leather seat. You twisted your body in your seat so you were facing Steve, your eyes tracing the lines of his face from across the cab. “You still have the same eyes,” you pointed out vehemently, as if Steve was arguing with you, even though he wasn’t. “And your nose still has that little bump in it, and your lips are still so soft and full…”

You trailed off, realizing far too late that you were saying your inside thoughts out loud. Sinking your teeth into your bottom lip, you watched Steve as he processed what you’d said—the way his fingers scratched a little nervously at his beard, those twin lines forming between his brows. Your gazed traced every curve and line and divot in his face, examining his expression, wanting to memorize it and save it for the rest of your life. 

“I don’t think any of those people noticed those things,” Steve murmured, his voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it over the slight breeze drifting through the windows while he drove through town. 

Your heart lurched at the implication of Steve’s words, but you couldn’t bring yourself to take them back, even if they were dangerously close to revealing something you hadn’t even had the courage to admit to yourself yet. 

Instead, you focused on your anger at the hypothetical people who weren’t recognizing Steve just because he’d grown up, gotten tall, gotten buff, grown out his hair and his beard and looked altogether very different to the skinny teenager he’d been.

“If they didn’t see those things, they didn’t really see you,” you muttered to yourself, indignant on Steve’s behalf, but trying to keep it to yourself. Apparently, you weren’t good at moderating the volume of your voice, because Steve snorted at your remark. 

“No, no one ever saw me as well as you did, buttercup,” Steve said, his voice low and warm, and your heart promptly rioted in your chest. 

There was something so dizzyingly wonderful about hearing Steve say such intimate words to you in that deep, caramel voice of his, genuine affection shining through his tone. It took your breath away for a moment, and your brain short-circuited. 

It was on the tip of your tongue to tell him…something. The thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself yet. But you were still you, and your brain tripped at the last moment, and instead you blurted, “Do you ever think about our first time?”

Steve choked on a snort, his eyes darting to you with honest surprise. You couldn’t blame him. You’d had no idea those words were gonna spill from your mouth until they were out, but you supposed they weren’t as bad as what you’d almost confessed, so you didn’t try to take them back or change the topic of conversation. You waited with bated breath for Steve’s response, and whether he remembered your night together when you were both 18.

When he saw you were anticipating his answer, he spluttered, “You mean when I came three seconds after getting inside you?” 

You began to smile, because he remembered, but then Steve continued talking.

“Y’know, I told Bucky about that once,” he said, his eyes fixed so fully on the road that you got the impression he didn’t want to meet your gaze and your stomach plummeted. “I was drunk, and didn’t know if it really counted as sex. Bucky was no help, of course—he said he didn’t know either since it was so quick.” 

Something new was swirling in your gut, and for long moments you could only sit there on the warm leather of the truck and stew in that hot, feral feeling. It must’ve showed on your face because, when Steve finally looked over at you after you’d been quiet for so long, the truck lurched forward, his foot pressing too hard to the gas.

“Don’t worry,” he rushed to say, guessing at what was upsetting you and guessing wrong. “I didn’t tell him it was with you.”

“Don’t you dare,” you snarled, the words bursting out of you with a ferocity you’d never used in your life, let alone when talking to Steve. But you were furious all of a sudden, and it wasn’t until the words were spilling from your mouth that you understood why you were so angry. “Don’t you dare try to take this away from me, Steven Grant Rogers.” Your voice was seething and barely recognizable, but you couldn’t stop. “You were my first, and it was perfect—because it was you.” 

Steve glanced over at you, something like shock written across his face, but when he looked back at the road, his brows settled low over his eyes. The muscle in his jaw popped and you knew he was grinding his teeth together, taking his time to gather his thoughts before he spoke. It took him a long moment to respond.

“You deserved better.”

The noise of your scoff was loud, even to your ears, and you strained against the seatbelt still buckling you into the passenger seat as you leaned toward your childhood friend.

“You ate me out until I came three times, Steve!” you cried, holding up three fingers as if the adult man your friend had grown into somehow didn’t know how many three was. “No man has ever made me come so many times in one night as you did then.” 

When Steve still didn’t look at you, just kept driving with his hands gripping the wheel and the muscle in his jaw popping, you huffed an exasperated sound and flopped back into your seat. Your back was to the leather as you crossed your arms over your chest and stared out at Brambleberry Cove through the open passenger side window. 

The silence grew until it was suffocating, and you needed to break it. So you said the first thing that came to mind. Again.

“You’re who I think about when I touch myself, Steve.” Your words drifted from your side of the truck to the other, carried on the light breeze floating through the cab. “I think about you and that night, and it gets me off every single time.”

Steve made a strangled kind of sound, like a growl that was torn free from his throat against his will. Then he was quiet, and he was quiet for so long, you thought that was the only reaction you’d get to admitting the truth. Until…

“I think about you, too, buttercup.”

The confession hung in the air between you, settling heavily onto the leather bench seat in Steve’s truck, the air rushing in through the open windows buffetting around it. 

You didn’t feel Steve’s admission sink into you. There was simply a before and an after. And in the after, you were moving. You were unbuckling your seatbelt and scooting across the seat toward Steve until your bare knee brushed against the denim of his jeans. 

He shot a startled look in your direction—which, in a distant part of your brain, you registered as completely adorable—before quickly pulling over to the side of the road. He was just throwing the truck into park when you slid into his lap, straddling his thighs and pressing your chest to his. 

“We should do it again,” you purred, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning close. When Steve didn’t respond right away, just kept giving you that surprised look, you thought he might not have understood you, so you explained, “Have sex.”

Steve closed his eyes and a light tremor shuddered through his body as his hands settled respectfully on your waist, a few of his fingers brushing the skin where the edge of your tank top didn’t quite meet the waist of your shorts. Then, it was your turn to shudder, the feeling of his warm, calloused hands against your bare skin making heat flood between your thighs, your core warming and your body melting into your old friend’s hands.

“Please, Steve,” you whispered, tipping your head forward until your lips were a hairsbreadth from his, so close you could taste mint chocolate chip ice cream on his tongue and it took everything in you not to lick into his mouth desperately. Your voice was practically a whine as you went on, “Let’s see if we can do better this time.” 

Steve’s hands shifted to your hips, his fingers digging into your soft flesh hard enough to almost hurt, and you thought he was going to give in. But then he swallowed audibly, his adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and he pushed you gently away, his head tilting back against the leather seat so your lips no longer teased him with an almost-kiss.

“You’re drunk, buttercup.”

Steve’s voice was a delicious rasp, and you couldn’t help but shiver at the sound of it even as the meaning of his words settled into your drunken mind. You pouted at your childhood friend, hoping the fact that he hadn’t pushed you off his lap entirely meant he wasn’t saying no.

“And horny,” you said, the words slipping from your lips on another whine. Of their own volition, your hips squirmed on your oldest friend’s lap, trying to get closer, trying to find some kind of friction to work against the aching heat pulsing between your thighs. But Steve’s firm grip held you in place. “Stevie.” His name was nothing but a pathetic whimper. 

A low growl rumbled in Steve’s chest, and then one of his hands was abandoning your hip to cup your face, tilting it up so he could loom over you. The lines of his face were hard, stubborn, and the look in his eyes left no room for argument. 

“You know I won’t touch you when you’re drunk,” he bit out, his voice soft, but as firm as his hold on your body.

A memory slammed into you—you and Steve planning your first time together. You’d made a deal at the start of high school that if neither of you lost your virginity through all four years, then before going off to college, you’d lose it together. 

When the time came, you’d been a little nervous, even though it was Steve, and you’d joked that you could take some wine coolers to the beach and get it over with, just like all the other kids in your school. Even then, Steve had looked at you stubbornly, and said, without a shred of willingness to waver, that he wouldn’t touch you if you were drunk.

Back then, it had sent a shiver down your spine, and it had much the same effect more than a decade later in his truck. Your body trembled with arousal, and you pushed feebly against Steve’s hold—not really trying to break it, just enjoying the feeling that came from realizing how strong he was. Those biceps and corded forearms of his weren’t just for show.

“What about just the tip?” you murmured, the words tumbling past your lips before you could think better of them, knowing there was no use trying to argue with Steve when he’d made a decision. But you were clearly thinking with something other than your brain, because the words kept coming. “That’s not sex, just the tip—please, Steve.” You were begging shamelessly, but your shame and embarrassment were still nowhere to be found since you were still definitely drunk.

Steve’s jaw ticked so hard, you could’ve sworn you heard the muscle pop in the quiet of his truck as he ground his teeth together. 

“Buttercup,” he growled, a warning in his tone. “That’s not happening.”

Your fists gathered in the front of Steve’s t-shirt and you yanked on it restlessly, not trying to do anything more than annoy him. “Whyyy,” you whined, drawing out the word until it was nearly a wail. Unslaked heat burned in your blood and, while you knew why he was refusing to have sex with you, in the moment, you couldn’t understand why your oldest friend was torturing you.

Steve’s hand slid down from your cheek to wrap around the front of your throat, and you stilled immediately, something about the possessive, dominant gesture making you calm. That was new, Steve hadn’t done anything like that when you’d first been together, but you liked it more than you would’ve expected. Your lips were still parted, your panting breaths gusting out of them, your heart racing, and you were finally calm and quiet.

Your oldest friend’s eyes roamed over you, taking in your reaction. At first he seemed surprised, but then a glint of something you’d never seen before sparked to life in the depths of his blue eyes. You watched his gaze drop to your mouth, and nearly whimpered at the way the corner of his lips flickered in the ghost of a smirk. But then he fixed his gaze back on yours, pinning you in place with that stubborn look in his eye, though it was slightly dimmed in favor of that new, hungry glimmer. 

“I won’t fuck you only to wake up tomorrow and find out you regret it,” Steve said, enunciating all his words clearly despite the fact that his teeth were grinding together “That you only wanted it because you needed to scratch an itch.” 

Your lungs dragged in a soundless gasp and you finally understood his reticence, even if you couldn’t imagine ever regretting doing anything with Steve. But when you opened your mouth to protest, Steve’s fingers squeezed the sides of your throat. 

Your words died on your tongue, and your mouth went slack, your eyes going hazy with pleasure. You couldn’t have been more obvious that you liked the way Steve choked you if you tried. And he read your enjoyment easily from the expression on your face, that look of hunger sparking brighter in Steve’s eyes before he went on.

“When I fuck you again,” he growled, his words a promise. “I don’t want you drunk on anything but my cock.”

“Stevie,” you whined his nickname again, the name only you were allowed to call him, your lips forming into a pout. It hadn’t escaped your notice that he’d said ‘when’, and not ‘if’, about having sex with you again, but you didn’t want to push your luck. And besides, unslaked need was still burning brightly through your body, consuming most of your focus. “I need…something, please.” You let out a little whimper and squirmed in his lap again, unable to stop yourself.

Steve huffed a laugh, his thumb stroking down the side of your neck, over your thrumming pulsepoint, while the fingers of his other hand slipped half an inch into the waist of your shorts, only far enough to dig harder into your soft curves.  

“I’m not going to touch you more than this, buttercup,” Steve began, his voice a low, delicious rumble that you swore you could feel in the clenching of your core. “But I didn’t say anything about stopping you from touching yourself.”

Your eyes widened in excitement, and you wasted no time in acting on the implication in Steve’s words. Holding his gaze, one of your hands slipped free from his shirt and trailed down your body. When you reached between your thighs, the backs of your fingers brushed against a thick bulge in the front of Steve’s jeans. 

It twitched against your soft touch, and you gasped in delight, loving the proof that Steve’s body recognized you just as much as his mind.

But when you twisted your hand, intent on giving Steve’s bulge a friendly squeeze, his hand darted down from your hips to your wrist, his fingers circling around you and stilling your hand. “Buttercup,” he rumbled, another warning. 

A shiver raced down your spine and you reveled in the way it made you feel to hear Steve say your nickname like that. It occurred to you that it was new—you’d never heard him say it quite like that before, with frustration and arousal flooding his tone. 

You wanted to hear every flavor of your nickname on Steve’s tongue. You wanted to hear him whisper it like a prayer, and groan it into your lips while he kissed you. You wanted to hear Steve shout your nickname while he came with you. 

But the look in Steve’s eyes was stubborn again, and you knew you’d have to wait to hear all the ways he could say your nickname. 

“OK, Steve, ‘m sorry,” you mumbled, twisting your hand in his hold and pressing the tips of your fingers to the seam of your shorts, your hips jerking forward to seek more of the friction you offered yourself. 

Steve’s hold loosened, but he didn’t let go of you entirely, like he didn’t trust you just yet. But you didn’t care, your fingers were pressing into your clit through the thin denim of your shorts, and you were rocking your hips to grind against them, your wetness soaking through your panties almost immediately.

The moment when your fingers found just the right spot, you sucked in a sharp breath, your spine arching and your hips pressing down hard against your hand. Your head tipped back, your eyes narrowing into slits as you held Steve’s gaze. You moaned while you rubbed tight circles against your clit through your shorts.

“I’m going to come embarrassingly fast,” you huffed in warning, your chest heaving already with labored breaths. 

But Steve only smirked, a touch of smugness in the curve of his lips.

“Don’t worry, buttercup, I remember exactly how sensitive your sweet little clit is,” he rumbled, and you moaned loudly. His fingers flexed against your throat, digging in enough to quiet your sounds and making your eyes widen as your hips lurched in their rhythm. He chuckled at your reaction before continuing on.

“I remember sucking on your puffy little pearl, your thighs squeezing my head, my fingers buried deep in your tight, warm hole,” Steve purred, seemingly knowing exactly what to say to drive your pleasure higher. “I remember the exact way your pussy gripped my fingers when you came, like you wanted me deeper—deep enough that you could feel me in your belly.” 

“God, Steve,” you groaned, your head falling back listlessly on your shoulders, too heavy to keep it up. But Steve’s fingers dug into the back of your neck, and you understood the wordless command immediately. You lifted your head and caught your oldest friend’s eye while you kept rubbing your clit, pushing yourself closer to coming apart in his lap. 

“I remember how big your cock felt inside me,” you confessed, spurred on by Steve’s own filthy words. “I remember how long it took for you to sink your thick, fat cock into my tight pussy.” You paused only to take a quick, hitching breath. “I was already so close when you came, and I remember, I thought, maybe if you hadn’t been wearing a condom, maybe I would’ve come, too.” 

The lines of Steve’s face shifted, hardening, his jaw ticking wildly and his eyes going molten fierce, like the blue at the center a campfire that burns too hot to sit near. 

“Don’t fucking say that, buttercup,” Steve growled, his voice gravelly like he was chewing on seashells. “If I hadn’t been wearing a condom, I would’ve come so much faster—I never woulda made it all the way inside you. Woulda been coming with just my tip inside your warm, wet pussy, baby—woulda been too risky, buttercup.” 

Your eyes wanted to fall closed as you moaned, but you didn’t let them. You couldn’t tear your gaze away from Steve, not with that furious and ferocious hunger in his eyes, his desire for you etched into every single line and curve of his face. 

You were so close. You just needed a little more to push you over the edge.

“Fuck, Steve, I know I shouldn’t, but I love the thought of you coming inside me, filling me up, making me yours,” you confessed, the words bubbling up from the very depths of your soul. It was on the tip of your tongue again, that thing you hadn’t admitted to yourself. Instead of letting it free, you moaned, long and loud, your fingers rubbing faster against your clit and your hips grinding against your hand. 

“Christ, baby,” Steve gritted through tightly clenched teeth. His fingers were digging into your hip again, diving further beneath the waist of your shorts, nearly skimming the edge of your panties. His other hand tightened around your throat and dragged you into him, until your face was right in front of his and he could watch every twitch and change in your expression as you pleasured yourself. 

“Come on, baby,” he said, his voice urgent with need. “Come before I do something we’ll both regret.” 

The hand that wasn’t wedged between your thighs pressed to the center of Steve’s chest, just above his heart, and a moment later, you felt his warm palm cover it. He was still holding your throat, his fingers digging into the sides hard enough that you knew he could feel your fluttering pulse beneath his touch. And you could feel his heart pounding beneath your palm, the rapid pace nearly matching the frantic one in your chest.

“Come, buttercup, come for me,” Steve commanded, his eyes holding yours. For a moment, it felt like he could see straight into your soul. It was a scorching intimacy you hadn’t felt since that night you’d first been with Steve, and you were helpless to it.

“Stevie,” you cried his name as your pleasure rose up and consumed you, sending you over the edge into a earth-quaking orgasm. Your body writhed in Steve’s lap, your hips grinding gracelessly against your hand as you collapsed forward, leaning into the grip of his hand around your throat. You sobbed your pleasure, the waves of your release wracking your body for long moments.

Eventually, the final swell ebbed and the last of your energy receded with it. Your damp forehead fell against Steve’s cool, dry one and you struggled to catch your breath. His hand slipped from the front of your throat around to the back of your neck and he smoothed it down your spine. 

He held you close, whispering in your ear, “Such a good girl, buttercup, you did so good.”

Once you finally settled, Steve shifted, his beard grazing your lips as he pressed a kiss to your cheek. 

“Can I take you home now?” he asked.

You huffed a laugh and slumped against his chest, laying your head sleepily on his shoulder. “I don’t think I can move yet,” you said, slurring your words with tiredness. And drunkenness.

Steve chuckled, but made no attempt to move you. You only felt him lifting his arms around you, though his hands didn’t settle on your body. 

“If you see Sam while you’re back in town, don’t tell him I did this,” Steve murmured in your ear. Then you felt the truck rumbling to life and getting back onto the road and you realized where your oldest friend’s hands were. He was driving you home, with you still sitting boneless in his lap.

When Steve arrived at your rental house, not too long after, he helped you down from his truck and looped an arm around your waist, getting you into the bungalow. Thankfully, you were sated from your release in his truck so you didn’t try to proposition him again, just dutifully did as he said, changing into your pajamas in your bedroom while he waited outside the closed door. 

Then he let you lean against his broad chest while you brushed your teeth and washed your face, before guiding you back to your room and tucking you into bed. Last, he pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead that was so comforting, and made you feel so safe, your eyes fluttered closed and a soft smile curled your lips.

Before he could leave, your hand darted out and grabbed Steve’s wrist with surprising precision given your state and the fact that your eyes were closed. You dragged them open again, blinking away the bleariness until your childhood friend’s face came into focus. 

“I don’t regret anything we’ve done together, Stevie,” you mumbled, the side of your mouth hitching up in a lopsided smile. “I’m glad you were my first.” You lost the battle with your eyes and they fell closed. You also, apparently, lost the fight against biting back your feelings, murmuring sleepily, “I want you to be my last.”  

For a long moment, Steve was quiet. He seemed to wait until you were just on the edge of sleep before responding to your drunken confession. 

“Tell me that again when you’re not drunk, and I’ll believe you, buttercup,” Steve murmured, ducking down to press a kiss to your hand, still wrapped loosely around his wrist, before carefully extricating himself. 

You were snoring before Steve closed and locked the front door of your bungalow behind him. He walked down the short path to his truck, which sat at the curb, a subtle smile on his lips and a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

[mialikeshockey]

mini stories w Luke Hughes

I’m gonna add more to these randomly, these are just little stories that I didn’t have enough ideas to fully write something about, you can use these ideas if you have ideas to fully write something!

—

- cuddles ⬇️

“have you always been like this?” I question the boy, who’s currently wrapping his body around mine. “Like what?” Luke asks, “So cuddly; you’re never this cuddly.” Luke smiles and tries to get even closer to me. “I think that’s as close as you can get Hughes.” I let out a giggle, but he doesn’t try to stop.

“You can’t escape it.” He mumbles basically into my neck. “Escape what? Someone being basically a big teddy bear?” He lifts his head up, “Maybe I’m just in a mood.”

“And that mood would be?”

“Very cuddly and missing you.”

“You could’ve just said that, I don’t mind cuddling Luke. You’re just never this cuddly — are you sure something isn’t up? Nothing happened today?” Luke stays quiet for a second. “Nope”, he puts his head on my chest.

I stay quiet, and I start to play with his hair. Not even minutes later, he’s fast asleep on my chest.

—

- sweet treats ⬇️

Luke turns on the tv, as I scoop ice cream into bowls. “I don’t want any sprinkles on mine!” Luke calls out. “You’re boring; sprinkles make everything better!”

“They are only good on cookies sometimes…” He says, has I hand him his ice cream. “You’ll never understand until you try it! You can’t hate on something that you’ve never had. I made Jack try it, and guess who eats sprinkles with his ice cream now? Jack.” Luke puts his spoon down, “First off, Jacks just Jack. He will eat anything and everything. Second, the sprinkles make it taste weird and feel weird. Third, I’m just a certified hater. I learned from the best…” He basically side eyes me.

“I’m not a hater — sorry people do stupid things that need to be talked about. Please just try it for me?” I scoop some of my ice cream onto my spoon, making sure to get a lot of sprinkles. “Fine, but it’s gonna be nasty.” He states, taking the spoon full of ice cream and sprinkles into his mouth.

I wait for an answer, he looks up and nods his head. “Okay…maybe it’s not too bad.” I jump up, “YES! We got another sprinkle lover!” I practically yell; He just lets out a little giggle.

—

- flowers ⬇️

It was rarely that Luke and I would get into arguments. We always knew how to communicate with each other, but this time, it just wasn’t working. It was like we heard each other, but we weren’t listening to each other. I said something and it went right out of his head — he said something, it went straight out of my head.

Even after small fights, Luke and I always figured everything out minutes later. But it’s been over 6 hours since the argument and we haven’t spoke or seen each other since.

I was beginning to worry and wanted to text Luke, but as I go to pull my phone out, the door bell rings. I put my phone down on the coffee table and open the door to see, Luke with a bouquet of flowers…My favorite flowers to be exact.

“I’m sorry for not listening to you. I didn’t mean to upset you or anything. It wasn’t my intention and I apologize if it seems like it was.” He says softly, holding the flowers out to me. I smile and take the flowers, “it’s okay, it’s not just your fault. I should’ve been listening to. Wanna talk about it over some dinner and actually listen to each other?” Luke nods.

—

- painting ⬇️

Luke and I always found ways to make the most random things happen. We went from, drinking coffee at a quiet coffee shop to getting paint all over each other in my backyard.

We were supposed to be painting each other, like that TikTok trend that all the couples are doing. I purposely messed mine up, hoping to get a laugh out of him. The next thing I knew, paint was all over me.

“You’re helping me get this out of my hair, I hope you know that!” I yell out before I run up to him, putting my red painted hands all over his arm. “I’m so gonna get you back for that.” He gets more paint on his hands before chasing me around. “You won’t get me!” I say running, I watch him chase after me.

Not even seconds later, he gets me.

We both have paint all over us. “This is gonna be fun to clean up.” Luke sighs, “Someone shouldn’t have got paint all over me in the first place.” Luke laughs. “Oh sure, I started it. Maybe don’t make me look like I’m a broken donkey!”

“It was to make you laugh! Of course you don’t look like a broken donkey.” I walk up to him and put a red dot on his nose. “You’d be a cute Rudolph.”

“It’s October! We are not close to Christmas!”, “Christmas is better than all!” I yell back, he just sighs following behind me as I go start to clean up.

—

- notes ⬇️

Luke always tends to leave me notes everywhere. When he’s away for games, he makes sure that there’s some in random places that he knows I’ll be looking in. Even when he’s there with me, he always finds a way to put notes in places.

They weren’t bad notes; nothing mean or sad. They were always sweet. Most of them were sometimes corny dad jokes, or that I was pretty. He sometimes leaves presents with the notes. It’s like a game sometimes: the note telling me where to go to find the present.

Luke wasn’t have the best week, so I thought I would do some notes for him. Hopeful that it would cheer him up a bit.

I woke up early to start an early breakfast for him. I was never a breakfast person, it sometimes makes me really nauseous throughout the day but, since living with Luke, sometimes I just eat a bowl of fruit while he eats a full breakfast meal.

I make eggs, bacon, toast, and some pancakes. I made sure to leave a note next to Lukes phone so that he could see it right away. Knowing, he would use his phone to turn off his alarm.

I finish up breakfast at the last second of me cleaning up, I hear Luke’s alarm going on…perfect timing. I hear it stop, I try to make sure everything is in place before he walks out of the room.

“So we’re switching roles today huh?” He says walking out of the room in only sweatpants, with very messy hair. “Perhaps; I just thought to also try to do something to cheer you up, since you’ve been down this week.” Luke smiles and kisses my forehead, moving back to say, “Thank you, you’re amazing.”

— (added new ones)

- clean ⬇️

“What are you doing?” Luke asks, walking out of the bedroom. “Cleaning? What does it look like I’m doing?” Luke sits down on the couch. “You clean a lot, you know that?” Luke lets out a little giggle. “At least I’m cleaning. Someone doesn’t do it often enough.”

“Oooh, that sounded bratty.” Luke laughs, getting up from the couch. He takes the broom out of my hand and starts sweeping. “Thank you.” Luke gives me a thumbs up with a gentle smile.

“Why do you like cleaning so much anyways?” I turn over and look at him. “I don’t know; it honestly calms my mind. Gives me something to think about.” I look back over and continue to dust off the shelves.

“I guess I could start helping with that too. Maybe it will help clear my mind.” I hum in response.

After about five minutes of silence, I turn to look to see what else needs cleaned and I meet with Luke’s chest. “Can you“ before I could say anything, Luke picks me up. “Put me down! I’m trying to clean!” Luke giggles, “nope! Time for a break. I miss you.”

He sits me down on the couch and starts tickling me. “I’m gonna kick you, stop it!” I say between laughs. “I dare you.”

—

[sweetimpurity]

c.w.: very smutty, ice cream and sex

The hot sun beats down on your hometown. It’s finally summer and you’re ready for the beach, freedom and romance. You and Miguel have been together since you were both 15. Growing up together, going to school, falling in love and staying in it until now. 18 years old, the two of you. You can’t wait to spend every day with him this summer, and you really can’t wait for those hot summer nights. 

The only thing that gets in the way is summer jobs. If only you two were 10 again and you could spend every minute wasting the day away in the kiddie pool. But now at 18, there are other, better things you two can get up to. 

This summer you’re working at your Dad’s store in town and Miguel is logging in his 3rd consecutive year at Sunny Scoops ice cream. A cute little place by the boardwalk with really good waffle cones and the cutest boy in town behind the register! 

There, Miguel works all day, sweating and smiling, handing out ice cream to little kids, the elderly, families, anyone who’s having a beach day. And any girls who ask for his number, he just tells them to text you and ask for it. That usually prevents them from ever asking again. 

He’s grown muscle over the past three years and ultimately you just had to help him cut the sleeves off his work t-shirt. Complaining about the ‘fit not being right’ on the bigger sizes. 

The uniform he used to wear when he was 15 was pretty horrendous. Pink and blue striped and that goofy ice cream cone hat. Then he turned 16… 17… now 18 and wowza. You’ve watched him grow into a man. Now his arms are showing, his muscles from scooping rock solid ice cream all day long. Toned and extra tan from the summer sun. A bandana wrapped messily in his dark curls to keep the sweat off his forehead. Sometimes you’ll sit there with ice cream melting down your hand and between your fingers because you’re just staring at him moving around behind the little counter and through the little shop. Smiling handsomely to customers, his muscles flexing when he’s scooping the frozen treat, catching his eye and his smile when he sees you watching him. Flustered and flushed pink when he comes back over to talk to you, licking the drips off your knuckles. 

“Your ice cream is melting, baby…” He would coo. Licking his lips of the sweet chocolate melt. “You’re really hot.” You’d sigh, completely in a daze. 

You’re finally done with work now, letting your Dad know you’re leaving for the night. A plan in mind. A need for something sweet. Not just ice cream tonight.  Leaving your Dad’s store at 9:30pm and Sunny Scoops closes at 10. You get in your car, letting the summer night breeze blow in through the windows. The cool down finally here as the sun is set. The night is still warm and sticky but not as blazingly hot as before.

…

“Here you go… have a good night.” You hear his voice as you’re walking up to the window. Watching a little boy and his mother walking away happily with huge ice cream cones in hand. And would you look at that… you’re next in line.

“Hey, gorgeous…” He smiles seeing you, leaning his elbows on the counter and watching you approach the window. “Hey!” You chirp, smiling up at him. “Busy day?” You ask, admiring his tip jar full to the brim. “Yeah, busy but good.” He nods, grabbing a waffle cone and moving around behind the counter. You peer over the edge to look inside. Watching him at the soft serve machine. He knows you so well of course. “Chocolate vanilla twist for the pretty lady…” He announces and hands you a tall swirl of ice cream.

“Come around back, I’m just closing up.” He nods and you take your ice cream, moving to the back of the teeny building to the back door. Walking inside. Like you do most days you come to see him. Miguel slides the window closed, locking it and pulling the wooden panel over to block the window. Locking the place up. 

You hop up to sit on top of the big box freezer, licking the swirl of ice cream in your hand and watching him move some stuff around and close up.

“You wanna go to the beach tomorrow?” You ask, looking over at him with those eyes that make him weak. His eyes watching your pink tongue lick up your ice cream. “Sure.” He answers just softly. Focusing on doing his job before he loses all control. Not just yet. You smile and kick your legs softly. He walks past with a box, grabbing your ankle as you kick your foot up, giving you a look and letting his fingers run up your calf, bringing a smile to your lips, walking away as he finishes clearing the place up, taking the box to the shelves in the back. Coming back after a minute or two. 

“Hey.” He hums, stopping in front of you, a sly sort of smirk on his face. “Hey.” You respond, just as softly, your ice cream only beginning to melt. “You’re so pretty…” He hums as if he hasn’t told you a million times before, making you smile and he steps closer, between your knees. His fingers teasing the sides of your thighs. “Preciosa chica…” He whispers, looking in your eyes and licking the drips off the back of your ice cream cone. Like he always does. Licking all the way to the top of the swirl and then his lips are on yours. His lips moving against yours, his tongue parting your lips. His tongue tasting of chocolate swirl and his lips sugary slippery sweet. His tongue delves into your mouth, his hand going to cup the back of your head, ice cream smashed and mixed between your two tongues. So sweet. Until he’s pulling back, both of you with a slurp. 

You giggle softly, feeling sticky sugar all over your lips. “You want more?” You laugh, raising a brow at him and he grins. You tilt the cone towards his lips. “It’s yours, baby… I wanna see you eat it.” He replies. 

His hands move up under your shirt, tickling your sides as he pulls you closer, sliding you across the freezer top. You smile, bringing the swirl to your lips and licking the melting ice cream, sucking gently and enjoying it, all while staring in his eyes. His hands move under the fabric, fingers moving up your ribcage, your diaphragm, to your breasts. 

“No bra, mami?” He laughs, fingers exploring and kneading the plush of your tits. Staring in your eyes as he does it. “Took it off in the car…” You smile so innocently. He grows harder at the thought. That you took off your bra on the way over here. Like you wanted this to happen, you wanted him. Watching you gasp among the ice cream in your mouth, his thumbs rubbing over your nipples, rolling them gently between his thumb and index fingers. Massaging gently under your shirt. He leans forward, placing three deep kisses to your throat before pulling back again, his fingers grasping the hem of your t-shirt. 

“Can I take this off?” He asks and you nod, mouth full of ice cream. He pushes your shirt up and off, the neon lights of the shop reflecting off your skin, off your breasts, making his mouth water. His arm anchors around your lower back, lips latching onto your breast, licking and sucking and squeezing the other in his hand. “Mmm- miguel…” You sigh, sensitized from his caress. He slurps and smooches your soft skin, the naughty noises filling the small space. The hum of the many fridges and freezers a soothing harmony with your soft moans and the sticky sucking of his lips.  

He pulls back, kissing you a few times, tasting that sweetness on your lips. Keeping one arm around your back and your eyes widened in surprise watching him dip his fingers into the mountain of ice cream in your hand. Picking up dollaps of cold chocolate swirl on his fingers and smearing it over your nipples. Eliciting a sharp gasp from your throat as he does it. Looking down at your chest. He does the same with both sides. “You like that?” Grinning the whole time, holding you tight as you squirm. Freezing coldness hardening the buds until his warm lips come back down to suck the ice cream off. A shuddering and trembling moan leaving you at the feeling. Your free hand going to his hair, tangling in the dark curls. Pulling the bandana off of his head and watching his summer curls bounce free. “Ohhh- Miguel- '' You moan sweetly and he groans against your chest, your sticky sugary nipples sucked and kissed over and over until it's all gone. 

“So sweet baby…” He pants, pulling his shirt off, coming back up to kiss your lips and holding your flushed cheeks in his hands. “Mmm..” You whine, kissing him back hungrily, deeper, your free hand running up his toned abdomen to his chest, a map of his body already ingrained in your brain after all these years, then wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, the ice cream dripping down your knuckles and onto his bare back, making goosebumps on his skin, his big hands running down your back and to your waist. “I don’t have a condom, baby…” He pants against your lips, his fingers in your hair; the words making your tummy flip in butterflies, knowing he wants you; he’s going to be inside. He pulls back for air, desperate to have you as he’s had you many times before.

“I do.” You pant for air, reaching blindly in your back pocket for the one condom you brought. “You really came here just to get fucked, didn’t you?” He laughs and smiles, taking the small foil packet into his sticky fingers. “I came here to see my love…” You hum, tilting your head at him. Not very convincing. His brow cocks in suspicion. “Fine. I came here to get fucked by my love.” You finally admit and the two of you can’t help the giggles. 

Outside the small ice cream shop, cars drive by, peepers peep and crickets chirp. The temperatures go down as the night goes on, but inside the little parlor, things are heating up. 

“Tell me where baby… tell me…” He whispers in your ear, knuckles deep in your heat and you’re barely able to hang onto him. One hand still occupied by the dripping melting ice cream cone. “Right there! Oh right th-there!” You squeal, his thumb moving expertly on your clit and his fingers flicking and curling deep inside. “Oh my god…” You whine, back arching and leaning back so far you almost fall back off the freezer. “Hey… hey… there you go…” He coos, holding you and helping you lay on your back. Limited on space but you make do. His fingers pumping generously into your needy pussy. 

His bottoms are long gone but he takes the condom foil between his teeth, ripping it open carefully. “C’mon baby…” He pants. Taking your free hand and pulling it down to his dick. Guiding you to roll the condom onto his length. Shuddering and groaning feeling the lubed rubber and your soft warm hand pushing it down on him. All while his fingers still curl up against your g spot and you’re on the cusp of coming already. For a few moments, he thrusts into your hand around him. Relishing that pleasure until it’s not enough. 

“Ready, sweet girl?” He steps forward, pulling your hips down to meet him at the edge of the freezer. “Mi corazón…” He whispers, a hand running flat over your tummy. “Mmm… yes please…” You whisper. And when he gets that confirmation, there’s no stopping his gummy tip from kissing your clit, pushing through your slick before slipping down and inside. Like the two of you were made for this. He was made to be with you in this way. You were created to be in love. 

“Haahh…. Baby…” He sighs and shudders, easing himself in with small pulsing thrusts to stretch you out nicely for him. He doesn’t want to hurt his precious girl. Soon he’s pressed to the hilt and your back is arching from that alone. Your trembling legs latching around his waist as he starts his rhythm. Skin slapping skin in the sickly slip of sticky slick. 

Moaning loud and free, the both of you, at the feeling. The feeling of being so full, so filled to the brim. Of love. Of him. The ice cream cone nearly falls out of your hand, your brain unable to think of anything but the pleasure between your legs. One leg wrapped around his hip and the other held in his arm, your knee draped over and his big hand wrapped around your thigh. Keeping you open for him; spread. Pumping into you steady and deep. His heavy eyes watching your face to see how much you love it. His hand on your thigh finds your free hand, lacing his fingers with yours. Panting and focusing. On getting you there. On making you feel the best he possibly can. 

You’re delirious, hazy, a mess of moans and a buzzing burning ache for him. 

“Baby baby-” He grabs your wrist when the ice cream almost slips entirely, holding your wrist and making it stay upright so he doesn’t have to mop the floors. Smiling when he sees your fucked out face. Easing the cone out of your hand so he can hold it. So that it doesn’t splatter on the floor. Letting your hand fall, fingers gripping and clenching around nothing. His thrusts are so deep, so giving, and he’s hitting every little spot that has you melting. 

“That’s it, baby…” He encourages you, trying to bring you that sweet release. “So good Mig…so so sooo…” You whine, on the very edge of bliss. Miguel watches, breathing so fast and heavy. His eyes trail down your face to your soft, marked neck, to your shoulders, your tits, sternum, stomach. Until it’s almost involuntary, he dumps the cold, melting, dripping ice cream cone on your soft tummy. Pulling a high pitched squeal and gasp from your lips, the cold like the spark in a chain reaction, back arching as he drags the freezing smushed chocolate swirl up to your sternum. Your orgasm hits you before another second can think to pass. Your skin shining in melty vanilla and chocolate swirl. The cold making you clench around him. 

Screaming in ecstasy and squeezing him so tight he's doubling over and groaning at the pressure. Thrusts become impossible and all he can do is spurt deep and hot. Filling the condom with a groan and feeling you fluttering around him. He licks a stripe up your sternum, slurping ice cream from your skin. Pressing messy kisses to your chest and his face just drips with the melted sugary substance. Drops and dribbles rolling down your sides as you gush on his dick. Trembling, shaking, coming down from what might be the strongest climax you’ve ever experienced. 

“Oh baby… hah… that was amazing…” He pants, his voice wavering, leaning over you, kissing your cheeks, your neck, your lips. “I love, love you… hah…” He huffs, looking over your face to make sure you’re okay. “Mmm… I love you” You sigh, a blissed out smile on your face. He smiles seeing you’re happy and you’re feeling good; because that’s all he’s ever wanted. And all he’ll ever want.

[base0h]

had this random thought and thought I'd request. what if a random kid just comes over and confesses their love for you (a fully grown adult.) and the one piece men are just standing there like 'wtf is this kid on'

a/n - OML 💀💀💀 I’m laughing so hard right now 😭 anon this idea is hilarious how do you guys think of such funny stuff

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, it’s a random kid not kidd himself- just wanted to clarify that bec i thought it was kidd, major crack

- If it wasn’t already apparent, Luffy has made it quite clear that he loves you VERY much

- let’s say you’ve been on this island for maybe about a month, and you love it there! The weather’s nice and cool, there’s a nice ocean breeze, and the sun is always out but not too strong

- you were sitting down on a bench with nami and robin, waiting for Sanji and Luffy to come back from their shopping spree

- suddenly, a kid appeared in front of you, holding a bouquet of flowers and a little hand made present

- “Um-! You’re super cool and pretty/handsome! And- I love you! Please take this gift and these roses!”

- the shock that just froze the three of you

- robin raised an eyebrow while nami burst out laughing, unable to breathe

- “BAHAHAHAHSUBDIDBD- YOU’RE LIKE 22 AND THIS IS A LITTLE ASS KID-“

- “Nami! Be nice! Um… Thanks kid- I like the flowers. But like Nami said- I’m a lot… Older than you.”

- The kid looked like they were about to start sobbing, so you quickly took the flowers and present to make the kid happy

- the present was a little origami heart and a butterfly, it was actually quite adorable

- All of the sudden, Luffy fucking tackled the poor child, flying across the sidewalk

- “Y/N’S MINEEEEEEEEEE!!”

- bro was hissing and growling like a feral monkey at the poor kid wtf 💀

- Sanji had to rip Luffy off the poor child and this grown man was throwing a fit, yelling at this kid

- “Y/N’S MINE! I LOVE THEM!” -luffy

- “I LOVE THEM TOO!” -kid

- “I LOVE THEM MORE!” -luffy

- “NO I DO!” -kid

- this argument continued for about 20 minutes. 20 minutes

- you had to drag Luffy and I mean DRAGGG him back to the sunny while he kept yelling at the kid about how he loved you more

- “Hmph! I bet i could take him in a fight!” -luffy (please keep in mind that this child is like 6)

- “Yeah ok luffy, don’t beat up a child.”

- “I’m a pirate! I’m already a criminal! HEY KID! GET OVER HERE IMMA BEAT YOUR ASS!” *feral screeching*

- “LUFFY NO-!”

- (rewatched marineford, I promise and swear I did not cry)

- ace is a bit more mature (not a lot) but he’s more mature than Luffy

- it was such a nice day! You and ace were hanging out on an island as a tiny vacation for the crew

- the crew got some ice cream, went shopping, and stocked up on food for the day

- ace, being the gentleman he is, carried all the bags for you, and even bought you THREE scoops of ice cream (y/n pls give me some this weather is ridiculous💀)

- ace was telling you about a story when he was younger, it was mainly about how Luffy was really stupid and loved to eat random mushrooms from the forest

- “He was SO dumb- it was really bad. He hallucinated for like- 2 days, and almost ate Dadan.”

- “HE ALMOST ATE HER?”

- “HIS TEETH WERE AROUND HER ENTIRE ARM.”

- bro Luffy is wild

- all of the sudden, something tapped you on the shoulder, and you turned around, not seeing anybody behind you

- “Um.. Excuse me?”

- The voice was coming from below, and it sounded like a kid’s voice! As you looked down, you saw this cute little child with brown hair and green eyes, their cheeks were bright pink, and they were holding something behind their back

- “Uh hi there! Did you need something from me?”

- “Um… I- I wanted to give these to you.. I picked them myself.”

- this kid was adorable, they were handing you a hand picked bouquet of flowers!! How adorable is that?! You smiled and pat the kid’s head softly, thanking him for the flowers

- ace had a big grin on his face, he found this kid absolutely adorable too

- “Uh- I think you’re super pretty/handsome! And- I think I really love you!”

- now this is where you both froze and stared at the kid with wide eyes, what did this child just tell you?..

- “I’m sorry what?” -you

- “I love you.” -kid

- “What?” -you

- this poor kid was about to cry, this was his first rejection after all 😭 and you could tell if this kid started crying, holy shit this kid’s going to SCREAM

- “Ok- sorry! I was just confused for a sec.. Are you sure you mean me? Not that little kid over there with the pig tails?”

- this kid was determined, shaking their head as they took your hands in theirs

- Ace was struggling, struggling not to just start cackling, the only thing keeping him from laughing was you pinching his arm

- “Ace don’t even think about laughing.”

- “I’m sorry- *wheeze* this is hilarious.”

- Ace’s face was turning red, bro looked like he was choking on food. But you really didn’t know what to say to this kid- I mean- you’re an adult and this is a literal child. Secondly- ace was your boyfriend already

- “Hey kid, how about I buy you some ice cream and we can talk about y/n together eh?” -ace

- The kid smiled and took Ace’s hand. How cute, your boyfriend was talking to this little kid about all the great aspects of you

- You heard about 1009 compliments today, and it warmed your heart 💜💜

- ace is awesome, 100% husband material

- doesn’t matter if it’s a child, girl, or animal, he’ll cut them up into pieces if they hurt you or his friends

- but outside of his tough demeanor, zoro was actually pretty loving, especially when the sunny was docked on an island and it was just a day to hang out

- he liked taking naps on you, literally anywhere (he sleeps the best on your ass 💀💀)

- today was not a nap day sadly, but as long as he was with you, today would be a great day

- you had dragged him along to stock up on cola and things for the ship, the whole crew was hanging out on this summery island too

- you weren’t sure why you hadn’t invested some berries into getting a leash for your boyfriend because oh my god

- this bitch keeps getting lost

- you could be looking at some cute shoes for two seconds. TWO SECONDS. And this man disappears, and he somehow ends up on the island next to the one you were on 💀💀

- but anyways, you were now holding him by his collar, keeping this dumbass marimo from running off 👍

- “Y/n are we almost done? I’m kinda tired.”

- “In a second.”

- “you’ve been saying that the past hour.”

- zoro’s feet are about to die

- all of the sudden, a kid tapped your shoulder, looking up at you with wide eyes

- “Oh hello! Did you need something?”

- “Um… I have some flowers for you!”

- The kid handed you a nice bouquet of red, white, and pink roses that were all tied together with a lovely ribbon

- Aw- this little kid was so cute! How nice of them to give you some flowers, right?

- “I- I think I really like you!”

- *pause*

- Maybe this wasn’t so nice 😭

- “Sorry what?” -you

- “I like you!”

- “But- you’re a kid!”

- this kid started sobbing, clinging onto your waist like a baby, crying about how they thought you were so pretty/handsome

- “Hey! It’s ok! Can you let go??”

- zoro was getting pissed, he didn’t like it when kids whined and wailed about stuff, especially about you

- zoro pried the kid off, setting him down with a glare, “Get off y/n, they’re mine, get lost kid.”

- “Hey zoro be nicer! It’s just a kid.”

- “NO! I LOVE Y/N” -kid

- basically this is what happened

- zoro and this literal child were pulling you back and forth, giving you severe whiplash 💀

- “Omg Robin come over here this is hilarious!!” -nami

- “NAMI PLS HELP ME.” -you

- “I think you’re fine y/n! Just wait until robin gets here!!” -nami

- wow what help you are nami 😭😭

a/n - Luffy hisses at people and growls 💀

[vagabond-umlaut]

toasty

sometimes, it isn't just the weather which is comfortably warm. sometimes, it can be one person, because of another person, as well.

gojo satoru x fem!reader; pre-relationship; gojo is a menace; you're a miniature circuit breaker; gojo calls you 'cookie'; mentions of food; i repeat: gojo is a MENACE; 610 wc; *empties a big container labelled 'fluff' into this fic*

belongs to the series 'you make my heart flutter and fibrillate' but can be treated as a stand-alone fic if you wanna

divider by @/benkeibear; pls don't plagiarise, translate or repost this; jjk isn't mine

"do you like that dress?"

you shouldn't look this surprised, no. hell no.

you know gojo's been sitting beside you for the better part of the last fifteen minutes. and you know he has a rather sharp set of eyes, with or without his 'six eyes' activated— yet you do look surprised. terribly so— and the man wonders, what made you think he would not notice you staring at the bright piece of cloth in the shop window.

particularly when you've left your favourite ice cream on the brink of melting and falling on your uniform— not that it'll make it any dirtier though; the curses from before have done a splendid job of it...

stealing a bite from your cone, gojo plops back into his seat. the grin threatening to bloom on his lips wilts when he sees the surprise turn into something shocked, maybe even scandalised in your features— eyes wider, brows higher, lower jaw hanging lower...

he lets the grin form anyway. "what? your ice cream was melting— i cannot let the money i spent to buy it, go to waste now, can i?"

you snap your mouth close in less than an instant. then open it again to take quite a large bite from your ice cream, brows scrunching and eyes screwing close— the brain freeze gojo was in wait for, for you to suffer from, never comes.

you take a second bite, even bigger.

some part of him shrivels, disappointed— before it swells up again, at the narrowed-eye look you send his way— before it dries up a second time, when your gaze returns to the dress from before.

the fabric looks extremely dull to the sorcerer now. he kicks your leg under the table. biting back a grin when you look back at him, lips in an annoyed little frown.

although it doesn't take too long to become a smile. tired, yes. but a fond one all the same— you've always been too soft to him, haven't you?

he repeats his ask, "do you like that dress?"

"i..." your gaze drops to your ice cream for a beat. then rises. a warmth settles into your cheeks, visible and adorable. "i kind of like that dress. it looks pretty." a beat. your lips part in a tentative smile. "what do you think, gojo-san? will i look good in it?"

the addressed man pauses.

but it is not because he has to decide on an answer— the answer is a yes. a resounding yes— still, he doesn't find the voice to say the word, the monosyllable repeated over and over and over again in his brain—

"you always look beautiful to me, cookie. no matter what you wear."

the shocked, scandalised expression makes a return to your face, not a moment later than when the words leave his mouth.

only to be shoved away when you attempt to take such a huge bite of your melting ice cream, the chocolate chip treat ends up caking a big portion of the lower half of your face— from your nose and extending till your chin.

gojo doesn't bother to hold back his laughter this time— its loudness increasing at the resulting wrinkle in your nose when he reaches over to scoop up a bit of the mess with his fingers, then licks it off them—

"you're a disgusting man," you mutter, voice so mortified and frail as your gaze keeps jumping from his hand to his blindfolded eyes.

something curls up inside the sorcerer. the sensation growing worse, growing better, the longer he stares at this precious little face you've made:

"and you're a cookie— my choco chip cookie!"

the reader is an mcb— reasons for which, i hope, u all hv understood by now 🤭🤭

masterlist

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 22

Warnings: none. mostly fluff. slight jealousy.

Pairings: Steve Harrington x fem!reader , Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Summary: The summer days get hotter and your feelings confuse you more and more. A day at the lake might make things better.. or worse.

Word count: 4.7k

A/N: So, I really really struggled with this chapter and spent more time rewriting it than actually writing it. I'm sorry if it seems a little scattered and rushed, I promise the next one will be better. @hellfire--cult thank you as always, you were such a big help, you always are but especially with this chapter so thank you, love

series masterlist

-

Steve never thought that he would end up here. Working at some ice cream shop with a girl who despised him for the first few weeks. He couldn’t blame her. Robin is your friend, she knows what he did to you and it’s not just that. Up until this spring, he didn’t even really know who she was, she was just someone he passed by in school and didn’t even bother to glance at or even acknowledge.

Now that he got to know her a little, he couldn’t help but take a liking towards her. She may be snappy at times but she is.. cool. He likes her. Not in the way he liked Nancy or you. But, in a way he should’ve liked Nancy – just as a friend. 

He calls her friend. Robin refuses to call him that. 

She likes to pretend that they are enemies but really, they finally get along after weeks of bickering at Scoops Ahoy. After a little incident that got them locked up in the storage room for a whole night, they got even closer – who knew that weed and a little heart to heart would get them to like each other?

Robin looks at Steve differently now, her looks aren’t filled with hate or annoyance anymore – well, she still rolls her eyes and makes fun of him but it’s not the same anymore. 

Sometimes when you’re around, she gives him pitiful looks. He can’t stand it. He doesn’t want or even deserve pity, not from her, not from anyone.

She is looking at him with that look right now. 

He sighs, trying to give her somewhat of a smile before he looks down at the red solo cup in his hand. Your giggles make his heart flutter and hurt at the same time. You are sitting on one of the logs around the fire, with Eddie. His jacket is wrapped around your shoulders, your legs are thrown over his thigh, you are practically sitting on his lap. You are nodding along to something he’s saying. 

You two are in your own little world, ignoring the rest of the people around you. It’s hard to tell what the two of you are. Every day, he wonders if you have made that move yet. The one he made with you back when you went from friends to something more. 

People are celebrating the fourth of July with a bonfire party at Lovers Lake, just like every year. In all the previous years before this one, you were by his side, giggling at something he would say, wearing his jacket, sitting on his lap. 

Now you sit there with Eddie. 

And it all feels so wrong, you shouldn’t be there with Eddie. 

You belong with him. 

“Are you okay?” 

Robin’s voice pulls him out of his thoughts, he looks at her, nodding. 

She tilts her head, giving him another pitiful look. 

“You’re not drunk, are you?” 

He shakes his head, chuckling softly, “no, whenever I get drunk or high I end up doing or saying something stupid.” 

She chuckles, though, it’s more of a sad chuckle. When they got stuck in the storage room, Steve opened up about a lot of things – things that he would have never talked about had he been sober. 

He let her have a look inside. 

Robin didn’t think that she would ever understand Steve and why he left you. But, she understands him now, a little. 

He was scared of how much he loved you. 

“Do you wanna go home?” 

“Nah, I’m your ride, remember?” 

She pats his back, giving him a smile, “that’s right, dude. You should go and have some fun.”

He snorts, shaking his head. He glances at you, not expecting to see you looking at him – staring at him. He can’t read the look in your eyes but he can see the smile that tugs at your lips. You raise your hand, waving at him, shyly.  

His eyes light up, his lips twitch. 

Robin notices the look on his face, the happiness that takes over in an instant. She follows his gaze. 

“Do you wanna go talk to her?” Robin asks, nudging his shoulder.

He looks at you with softened eyes. His shoulders fall when you break eye contact, turning away from him to face Eddie again. 

“No,” he whispers. 

“Why not?” Robin asks, knowing that he wants to talk to you.

“She’s with Eddie.”

“So? You talk to her every time they come to Scoops together.”

“That’s different.”

“How so?”

Steve nudges his chin towards you, “look at them.”

Robin sighs, looking over at you and Eddie. His arm is now wrapped around your shoulder, he is smiling as you whisper something in his ear. 

“I won’t interrupt that.”

She knows how Steve feels about you, she knows how Eddie feels about you but, what she doesn’t know is how you feel about them or how you feel in general. You don’t talk about your feelings, you don’t know how to, every time you did try to talk about them with her, you fell into a ramble, mixing up words, stringing together sentences that would make no sense, confusing both her and yourself. 

It wasn’t always like this. 

You used to be able to talk about your feelings. You never rambled or broke down in the middle of a sentence and she felt like you were getting better after each conversation you had. 

Then, you went on that date with Ray and everything went downhill after that. 

You spent so much time trying to get over the pain that Steve had caused you. You got stronger and more confident. And it seemed as though you got – or, started to get over him. It took months to get up and all it took was a night to fall back down. 

She sighs. 

“I get it, Steve.”

-

“Careful.”

“I am careful!” 

“No, you’re not! You’ve been on this ladder unsupervised.” 

“So?”

“So? You’re a clutz!” 

You roll your eyes, snorting at his words. 

“No, I’m not, Eddie.” 

You finish taping the new Metallica poster to the wall, glancing down at him, “alright, give me the next one, please?” 

Eddie chuckles, he lets go of the ladder and leans down, reaching for the last poster in the box. He unrolls it and his eyes widen. 

“Holy shit, that’s a new Iron Maiden poster!” He gasps, staring up at you with big eyes. 

You giggle, nodding, “I ‘accidentally’ ordered two.”

He furrows his brows. 

“Got one extra for you.”

His eyes light up and a smile appears on his face.

“No fucking way!”

You laugh at his little outburst. 

“It’s in the breakroom, I’ll get it after I put this one up,” you say, pointing to the poster in his hand. 

“You’re the best, did I ever tell you that? In case I haven’t, you’re the best, sweetheart!” 

He holds it out for you, grinning at you as your eyes meet. 

You shake your head in amusement, giggling, “I think you are the best but thanks.”

He grabs the ladder again, eying you with a smile on his face. 

To know that you thought of him while making orders for the store, to know that you got something for him, something that he didn’t even ask for, makes him so happy. 

“So, what are we doing tonight?” You ask. 

He watches the way you furrow your brows as you tape the poster right next to the Metallica one. You bite your lip, focusing on getting it even. 

“Uh, I’m not sure, what do you feel like doing?” 

“Dinner and a movie night?” You suggest, “Heather is throwing a party but I don’t feel like going.” 

“Me neither.” 

“So, dinner and movies it is.” 

“Sounds perfect to me, bab– s-sweetheart,” he clears his throat. 

Baby. He wanted to call you baby. 

Your cheeks heat up. You dare to glance at him, finding him looking completely flustered. His eyes are closed, his brows are knit together and his cheeks glow red. Cute. You have to suppress a giggle. 

“Alright, all done!” You clap your hands together after finishing hanging up the last poster. You grab the tape and the scissors, handing them to Eddie before you make your way down the ladder. 

“Careful,” he teases you. 

You only roll your eyes in response. You jump on the ground, looking up at him with a proud smile, “see? Not a clutz.” 

You shouldn’t have spoken too soon. The moment you take a step forward, you trip over the open box on the ground, stumbling forward. His hands land on your waist.

Your hands fall to his chest, your knee buckles but you don’t fall, he holds you tightly. 

“Not a clutz, huh?” He chuckles as he looks down at you. 

“That was an accident,” you pout, looking up into his eyes. 

You furrow your brows, his racing heart that you feel beneath your touch pulls your attention to his chest and for the first time, you notice how much bigger he actually is, how much taller he is. 

How did you not notice before?

“Hey guys!” 

Robin’s panicked voice causes the both of you to flinch. You both turn to look at her, frowning in confusion when you see the way she looks between you both. 

You slowly step away from Eddie. 

Why is she looking at you like that? Nothing happened.

“Hey,” you smile as you lean down, picking up the empty box. 

Eddie gives Robin a questioning look, tilting his head to the side. 

Her eyes are wide and she’s smiling, nervously. 

What the hell is she so nervous about?

A moment later, Steve walks into the store. Oh, right. Her new best friend, the one who gets jealous at every interaction he sees between you and him. Eddie rolls his eyes, not at him but at Robin and how protective she is of his feelings.

“Oh hey,” Steve mumbles, turning to look at Robin in surprise, “you come here on your day off?” 

She nods, stepping further into the store, “yep.”

“Buying new records for the car you don’t have?” He teases, smirking. 

“Ha ha,” she rolls her eyes. 

He chuckles and finally turns to face you. 

“Hey.”

You smile at him, “hi.”

Steve glances at Eddie who turns away, pretending to look around.

“So uh, what are you two doing here?” You ask, chuckling. 

Robin raises her brows, pointing at Eddie, “what’s he doing here?”

You walk behind the counter, putting the box down. You reach for the drink on the counter, lifting it up, “he brought me coffee and lunch.”

Robin nods, tilting her head, she smiles at Eddie, “you’re such a sweet friend, Eddie.”

He rolls his eyes at her, mumbling something under his breath before he turns away again. 

“I uh– I wanted to ask if you wanted to spend lunch break with me but, I see you got something already,” Steve mumbles, running his fingers through his hair as he looks down. 

“Oh, maybe next time?” You ask, trying to give him a smile.

‘Maybe next time’ sounds like a nicer version of ‘no, thank you.’

Steve knew that it was a mistake to come here and ask you to spend time with him, alone. But, he wanted to try. 

“W-We can go out for lunch together… on Monday?” You offer. 

His eyes light up and he looks up from the counter, he nods with a smile on his face. 

“I’d love to.”

He smiles at you and you smile at him. Neither of you notice the annoyed look on Eddie’s face. 

“And I wanted to ask if you wanna go to the lake tomorrow? You, me, Chrissy,” Robin smiles, “and your two uh–” she stops herself from saying what she actually wants to say as she gestures to Steve and Eddie, “buddies.” 

Steve squints his eyes at her, “buddies?” He whispers. 

“It’s supposed to get super hot tomorrow,” Robin says, ignoring Steve and Eddie’s glare. 

“Uh– sure, why not,” you shrug, “Eddie, do you wanna go?”

“Yeah, sure.”

You lift your brows, giving her a smile, “great.”

She lifts her hands, giving you two thumbs up, “great,” she grins, nudging Steve’s shoulder.

-

You should have known that Robin and Chrissy wouldn’t be here on time – poor Steve is probably in his car waiting for them. A part of you is relieved that Eddie didn’t have to pick them up though, you would still be waiting for them. 

You and Eddie are sitting on a large picnic blanket, looking at the water as you both snack on the grapes you brought. You are still in your sundress but the longer you sit out in the sun, the more you feel like ripping it off and jumping into the cold water. 

There aren’t many people around, a few kids with their parents, some teenagers you recognize from school but you and Eddie chose to sit away from everyone else. 

You are both quiet, enjoying each other’s company in silence as you wait for the others.

“They are taking so long,” you whine.

“I know,” Eddie chuckles. 

You glance at him, he stretches his legs out and leans back, looking at you with a smile on his face. 

“Do you wanna go swimming?”

You bite your lip, looking him up and down. You take your sunglasses off and put them on your bag. 

“If you come with me,” you say, giving him a sweet smile. 

“Do you think I’ll let you swim alone? There could be monsters and shit, I gotta protect you.” 

You laugh, shaking your head. 

“Monsters in Lovers Lake? The only monsters I see are those teenage boys – hold on, is that Carver?” You ask, scrunching your face up in disgust as you point at the blond who just jumped into the water, “you might be right, there are monsters.”

Eddie chuckles, “yeah, that’s a real monster.” 

You start to unbutton your dress. 

Eddie gets up, reaching for the hem of his shirt, he pulls it over his head, throwing it on the ground, it lands with a soft thud beside you. You look at the shirt as you push the dress down to your waist, looking up at Eddie. 

You have seen him shirtless before, countless times, actually. He is actually one of the only men you had seen shirtless – one was Steve, another one was Billy, but only because he walks around shirtless whenever he gets the chance to. Besides, he was never one that you had been attracted to. So, Billy doesn’t count. 

But you look at Eddie.

His body, his skin, his scent, different from the one you already know, the skin you traced. The freckles that are not on his skin, yet it is covered in tattoos. No sun kissed skin, yet still beautiful in its paleness. No brown luscious hair, but a messy mop of dark curls that still fall beautifully on his shoulders. Both beautiful, both different. But why are you even comparing?

“Ready to go?” 

You snap out of your thoughts, nodding. 

Sighing, you look down and finish taking your dress off. You press your lips together as you adjust your top. 

You hear the sharp breath he takes, the curse word that fell from his lips, the one he tried to cover with a cough. 

“I-Is t-that a new one?” He stutters, trying to rip his gaze away from your chest as he points to your swimsuit. 

You feel amused by the stutter, by the blush on his cheeks and the shakiness in his voice. 

“Yes,” you giggle. 

Eddie stares at you, at your body, at your soft skin that he is dying to touch. Your eyes that shine beneath the sunlight, the cherry red swimsuit that is hugging your body so perfectly. The way you look up at him with big eyes, parted and glossy lips. You look so gorgeous. 

“I love it.”

Your eyes widen and you are once again blushing. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He looks at you, not hungrily, not in a way others have wanted you before. He looks at you like you are the most precious thing in the world.

You push yourself up, leaning closer to him, you give him a teasing smile. 

“I’ll race you to the water.” And with that, you run off, giggling when you hear him cursing. 

“Hey! That’s not fair!” 

You squeal in surprise when he catches up with you quickly, he wraps his arms around your waist, picking you up and running into the water with you. He laughs at the squeal that falls from your lips again when the cold water touches your skin. 

“Got you,” he whispers in your ear as he holds you tightly, sinking in the water with you. 

“It’s so cold!” You gasp, holding his forearm tightly. 

“Wanna dive, sweetheart?” He teases. 

“No!” You squeal as he takes you deeper into the water. 

He chuckles when you push his hands off, putting some distance between you before you turn around to face him. 

“You wanna fight me?” You splash water his way. 

“Oh,” he chuckles, shaking his head, “you wanna play that game?” He asks, splashing water back at you. 

You nod as you walk back, suddenly feeling nervous when an evil smirk appears on his face. 

“How about you play the helpless victim?” 

“And you play the big bad monster?” 

He suddenly jumps forward, reaching for you but you quickly pull back, trying to run in the water.

“No!” 

You hear his dark chuckle behind you, “we didn’t even get started!” 

“You’re an evil water monater!” You giggle as you take a look at him, watching the way the few wet strands of his cling to his cheeks. 

His eyes light up with amusement, “the evil water monster is gonna get the pretty human.” 

Your giggle makes his heart flutter and his smile widens when you squeal again as his fingers brush against your wrist. 

“I almost got you!” 

“Leave me alone!” You laugh, making the mistake of running into the other direction, giving him the chance to grab you. His hands grab your waist and he pulls you against him, your back is now flush against his bare chest. His fingers digging into your sides as he starts to tickle you. 

“H-Hey!” You laugh, throwing your head back, “t-that’s not f-fair,” you giggle, gripping his wrists but he is stronger than you. “E-Eddie!” 

“Eddie!” He mocks, laughing. 

You push him back, hard enough for him to lose balance and as he falls, he takes you with him, wrapping his arms around you, you both fall into the water, laughing together as you fall against his chest.

The water sloshes around you. You are both giggling as you help each other up, holding each other's hands. He pulls you into him causing you to stumble forward a little. Your free hand falls against his wet chest as his falls to your waist. 

“Hi,” you chuckle. 

“Hey,” he smiles, moving his hand up to tuck the wet strands of your hair behind your ear.  

You look at his chest, eyeing his tattoos for a moment and then, you look up, eyes drifting to his lips. 

His brows knit together. He watches the way you look at him. His breathing stutters when your eyes continue to stare at his lips. But you are confused and completely lost. Why? What are you thinking about?

You pull away from him when you catch yourself thinking of something that shouldn’t even cross your mind. 

Why did you even think about it? 

Why did you have to get so close to him?

Wasn’t the kiss with Steve enough? 

Why are you trying to ruin another friendship?

You already lost Steve, you don’t want to lose Eddie too.

“Hey guys!” 

Both you and Eddie look up to find Robin running into the water, grinning at the both of you. 

“Hey!” 

The smile on your face is fake, Eddie can see it. 

“Took you long enough, Buckley,” Eddie chuckles. 

“Yeah, I uh– we stopped by the store, got some snacks,” she says with a shaky voice as she gets into the cold water. 

“Hey guys!” Chrissy yells from the spot you and Eddie picked, waving at the two of you. She sits down on the pink towel she just put on the grass next to yours. 

“Hi!” You smile, waving back at her. 

Judging by the tanning oil in her hand, you already know that she won’t be joining you in the water. 

Finally, you look at Steve, who seems unaware of what just almost happened. He takes his shirt off and runs his hand through his hair as he stands there in just his swim trunks, looking like some model that just walked out of a magazine. Your eyes widen as you stare at his chest. 

Since when does he have chest hair? 

He used to hate it and always shaved it when you were still together. 

You stare at it without meaning to, your eyes roam his body. He changed a little, his arms are more muscular than before, his shoulders are a little broader. His hair is longer too. 

When he looks up, you turn away, not wanting to be caught staring. 

“Robin, can I talk to you for a moment?” Eddie asks with pleading eyes. 

“Yeah sure.”

You watch as they both step away, leaving you standing by yourself for a moment. Good, you need it. You look around, deciding to go swimming without them. You take a deep breath and walk deeper into the water, letting the coldness envelope your body. You close your eyes and you start swimming. 

As you swim further away from the shore, the voices and the laughter from the people get lost in the distance. You hear the water sloshing, your breathing and your beating heart. 

You stop swimming and tilt your head back, stretching your arms out as you lay on your back, letting your body float. 

You try to not think. You try to not feel. You try to just be here and enjoy this. You enjoy the cold feeling on your skin beneath the water, the warm feeling of the sun shining down on your face. 

For a moment, it’s so quiet out here, it’s almost eerie.

You think about the joke Eddie made. Monsters in Lovers Lake. Now that you’re out here by yourself, you can’t help but think about it. Maybe there is something in the deep end.

Something could just snatch you up and pull you down. You definitely watch too many horror movies. 

“You’re too far out.”

Your heart leaps to your throat and you open your eyes, gasping as you clutch your chest.

“You scared me!” 

Steve’s lips part, his brows furrow. You place your hand on your chest, trying to calm your breathing. He can’t help but laugh as he takes in the terrified look on your face. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, swimming closer to you, “did you think about that weird lake monster that you were so afraid of when you were a kid?” 

“Huh – oh! O-Oh, you remember that?” You laugh. 

He nods, “yeah, you only talked about it like every day.” 

You snort, rolling your eyes. 

“I wasn’t thinking about that monster.” 

“A different one then?” 

“Maybe.” 

He laughs, “still scared of monsters that don’t exist, I see.” 

“Hey, you never know, something could just emerge from the water.” You swim towards him, getting closer and closer. His cheeks are a little red, water drips down from his hair, single droplets rolling down his cheeks and his lips. 

“And what, snatch me up?” He chuckles, licking his lips. 

“Mhmm, maybe monsters love guys with uh that,” you giggle, pointing to his chest, “I thought you hated chest hair, Stevie.”

You always told him to stop shaving it, you always wanted to see what it would look like on him.

His cheeks heat up and he doesn’t know whether it’s because of your words, the nickname or the closeness of your body. 

“I’m trying new things,” he shrugs. 

New things. He is trying new things. He tried new things when he dated girls before you, new hairstyles, new clothes, new music. He only ever tried new things when he was interested in someone and thought that he had to change – be better, look better. 

“L-Like what?”

Your eyes flash with something that he struggles to read.  

“For girls you mean?” You ask before he can even respond to your first question. You remember what Robin told you the first time you visited them at Scoops Ahoy. “A-Are you– do you have someone?” You ask before you can even stop those words from spilling. 

“What?” He asks, shaking his head at you. 

“Nothing,” you mumble, “forget it.” Why do you even care? 

This is none of your business. He can do whatever he wants. He can flirt as much as he wants. He can go on dates. He can have flings. He can have girlfriends. 

You tear your eyes away from him, desperately wanting to get away when you feel your cheeks heating up but just as you’re about to swim back, you notice how loose your bikini top is suddenly feeling. You raise your hand, placing it on your chest, “shit,” you mumble when you realize that the knot came undone. 

“W-What’s wrong?” Steve asks as he snaps out of his thoughts. 

“M-My stupid bikini – the knot–”

He realizes what happened when he notices your hand on your chest as you keep your other arm stretched out so you stay afloat. 

“Can you help me?” You ask with big eyes. 

His heart melts at the tone in your voice and the look in your eyes. 

“Of course,” he whispers, swimming towards you.

This isn’t ideal but, he touched you before, he had seen you naked before, it won’t be weird or foreign for him to do it. 

He swims behind you and he stares at your bare back for a moment, swallowing nervously. He takes in a shaky breath and reaches out to gather your wet hair, he brushes it to the side. 

A shiver runs down your spine when you feel his touch for the first time again. His calloused fingers touching your bare skin. You press your lips together, and close your eyes. 

He moves closer than he has to, he can’t help it. He reaches for the strings of your top and he starts tying the knot, slowly. He can feel the goosebumps on your skin and he can’t help but wonder if it’s because of the cold water or if it’s because of his touch – he hopes that it’s because of his touch. 

He looks at your soft skin, wondering what it would be like to feel it on his again. He wonders what it would feel like to touch you, to have your body pressed against his. He looks at your shoulder, wishing that he could lean down and press his lips against it, pressing kisses up to your neck. His heart flutters just at the thought of it. 

He is close, so close. 

His fingers brush against your spine and your breath hitches in your throat. He heard it. 

His touch feels so different from the way it used to feel. It’s soft, gentle. Something that it never used to be. He is careful with you, he never was, not when you were still his. 

You wonder if he ever thought that you looked beautiful. 

You wonder if he ever craved you the way you craved him after he left. 

Your heart starts racing the longer you feel his hands on your skin. Hands that used to be so rough on your body are now so light and caring, it makes you nervous. His hands feel familiar yet so strange and foreign. 

Is he touching someone else with those hands now?

“There’s no one else.” He says as though he could read your mind.

For a moment, you stop breathing.

“There’s only one girl for me,” he whispers as he puts his hand on your shoulder, turning you around carefully so he can see you, so he can look into your eyes. 

He felt the way you reacted to his touch. He heard the sadness and the jealousy in your voice when you had asked him those questions. He can see the look in your eyes. 

There is still a chance. 

There is still a chance, right?

next chapter

-

tagging friends and mutuals

@mysticmunson @taintedcigs @littledemondani @wroteclassicaly @corrodedcorpses @corrodedseraphine @succubusmunson @trashmouth-richie @take-everything-you-can @xxhellfirebunnyxx @sherrylyn628 @somethingvicked @nemesis729 @chrissymjstan

[timetoeatthebread-blog]

Heartsteel! Members suddenly have to take care of a child; Headcanons (Gender neutral and in an imaginary world where police is THAT useless. I like to think it isn't)

How they found you and how they reacted :

Kayn:

- He was literally minding his own business

- You ran up to him because of his pink eye and pink hair.

- Just straight up grabbing his left leg and not letting go, like a little menace.

- He tried to shake you off

- Almost fell face first into a wall while jumping around with his free leg.

- The little tic (You) had the grip of a true warrior.

- You bit him in his calf.

- Didn't hurt him that much. Instead it spooked him because he didn't expect a small child to have such sharp teeth. He hit his face on a pole on the sidewalk.

- What are you, a vampire? You little menace.

- You didn't know what menace meant, but vampire sounded cool. You pretended to be a vampire from this moment on, trying to bite him.

- At some point he finally got you off his leg and carried you under his arm like a bag.

- Wha- THE FU--

- Yes, you bit his arm

- Dude was so confused that he didn't even call the police

- Instead he took you home so Yone can take care of you.

Yone:

- Was grocery shopping, rolling his cart and checking the list if he needed anything

- Suddenly there was you, running around with a mini shopping cart.

- Totally proud of yourself. You were acting like an adult and you liked it (Because rolling the cart is fun).

- At some point you got lost from your family and then you saw Yone.

- It's not everyday you see someone in a zebra (in your child words. It wasn't a zebra print) shirt print.

- Like the young and cultured child you were, you asked if he saw your parents.

- The mom of the group tried to find your parents.

- Failed.

- The police wasn't really much help either. No one reported you missing.

- They (Police) were trying to take you but you cried so much because you didn't want to be separated from the gentle giant.

- One thing led to another and the police have his number and they will call him if they have any information.

- Brought you a pair of clothes so you have a change of clothes for later.

- Everyone was surprised when Yone didn't return with groceries and instead with a child.

K'sante:

- Was walking out of the gym and through a park

- Instantly noticed that you were alone on the playground.

- Checks for anyone in the vicinity of the park.

- The nearest residential area was a long way from the park.

- Walks up to you, crouches and greets you.

- Another gentle giant. But more energetic.

- Your sibling left you here as a prank to scare you.

- Parents gone on a trip.

- Cue inner anger at your sibling.

- Takes you to an ice cream shop. Buys you your favorite. With extra whipped cream/fruit.

- Contemplates his next options.

- Decides to take you home since it was getting dark, left his number at the police station and let them know the situation.

- Let's Yone know. Yone buys you a few things.

- Shows you his big armadillo plushie.

- The rest doesn't know that you are there yet (minis Yone)

Aphelios:

- Yes, he was in a store.

- Yes, they sold plushies.

- Yes, he bought a plushie gun and he was buying ammo.

- It's all for a prank I swear.

- You were hiding under one of the tables.

- Initially didn't care for you. Was sure your parents were nearby.

- They were not.

- Walks with you hand in hand, slow peace isn't a problem for him

- Thinks how you follow after him with your steps is cute.

- Calls his sister for help. She is completely serious and comes to you guys.

- She falls instantly in love with how cute and precious, scoops you up in her arms and carries you around.

- Aphelios kinda regrets not picking you up sooner.

- They go to the police station and they do nothing.

- Time to let Yone know what was happening...

- Since you were cute and you made his sister happy, he was quite happy himself to join his sister to buy cute things for you.

Ezreal:

- Was buying himself boba in a mall.

- And a new phone charger.

- His last one got destroyed by a mistake by Aphelios' prank.

- Saw you in the cutest, silliest outfit.

- Dude loves cute things almost as much as Aphelios.

- But you were alone. Like sitting in the corner alone and looking at people.

- You noticed him.

- Big pant look cool.

- Cue you running up to him and asking all about his pants, not understanding why it had so many unnecessary accessories.

- He discovers you were left alone by your sibling (again).

- You've been in the mall since the early morning. It was almost evening now.

- Goes to the police. Police is useless.

- Carries you around on his shoulders. Your laugh is precious and so is your happiness.

- His (not biological) little sibling! His little angel!

- He swore to protect you until the end.

- Gave you his boba since you were thirsty.

- MMm boba balls. They pop. It's cool as frick.

Sett:

- Was totally practicing basketball

- Found you alone. No one around.

- You asked about his ears. Reminded you of a dog.

- You love dogs.

- So does he.

- Instant connection.

- Calls his Mama for help.

- She is far away now but tells him to get you something to drink and eat and then take you to the police.

- Does as told.

- Buys you something to drink.

- Buys you dino nuggets.

- You both love them.

- Hols your hand and walks with you.

- Gives up when his back eventually starts hurting from bending so much and walking so slowly.

- Police is useless.

- Comes home and notifies Yone so he can take care of it.

- Feeds you more dino nuggets and sugar, while Yone does all the work.

[monsterfactoryfanfic]

I'm transcribing an interview Aaron King did with me about Detente for the Ravenous and I had to stop and clip out their answer about what they think constitutes good writing. With the story breaking about NaNoWriMo supporting AI text generators, I was just reminded how fucking good it feels to hear someone talk like they give a shit about the craft.

Transcript below the readmore.

"The first time, no, the second time I dropped out of college, I moved to a different town and I was working at an old timey confectionery and ice cream place. So four to five days a week, I would go in and put on black pants and a nice white shirt and an apron and a paper hat. And I would either be scooping ice cream or washing dishes or helping the owner's dad, an 80 year old man named Oscar make homemade chocolates and stuff. So we were on a main floor of a building. We had the ice cream shop, we had a coffee shop, and then we had a basement where we stored all this bulk candy that we ordered from people. And we had the place where Oscar would make these chocolate turtles: almonds, caramel, chocolate. And one day Oscar was like, “Hey, look at this.” And he took me to the basement stairs and he pulled down this plywood slide that he had constructed on a hinge that would cover the right half of the stairs. And he took a big box that we just received and put it at the top of the slide and shoved it down. And he was like, “What do you think of that?” And I said, “Well, that saves me a lot of time carrying stuff down the stairs.” And he was like, “Yeah, every day you try to improve a little bit. You try to make this place a little better.”

And I just like was almost crying because this man that could you know, not lift anything was so old, was still just like making these weird little changes around here and thinking of other people other than him. That's one of the things that I just carry forward in this process of making stuff is just like… I will never be a Will Jobst. I will never be “insert name of my favorite writer here.” But I'm driven to make these things. There's no reason for me not to make them. I might as well try to get a little better every single day. And sometimes that means reading and sometimes that means sitting down and doing some hard self assessment and figuring out where the weaknesses are. Or how to get better or how best to spend my time. Sometimes it's fun. Sometimes it's really hard. But I don't… I'm not going to become fucking William Faulkner, you know? I'm not going to become Louise Erdrich. But that's poison brain, to try to like become and overcome them or whatever. I think it's just, if this is something I'm going to do, no matter what, I would like to get a little bit better at it every single time I practice it. Then hopefully someone will put that on my gravestone. “Tried a little bit every day. Here lies Aaron King.” "

[hypnolurker]

We All Moo For Ice Cream

It all started in the supermarket. Clara wheeled her trolley steadily through the endless aisles in her regular search for groceries. When she got to the frozen section, she recalled the recent hot and sweaty summer nights which had left her exasperated and drained. Here, she saw something both delicious and which could potentially provide a respite from the unbearable temperatures – ice cream. She eyed the various flavours and brands for a while, but one particular brand stuck out to her. The horny cow. Each tub had a picture of a cartoon cow with exaggerated horns and a visibly excited expression. They also featured rather odd flavour names, possibly copying the more popular Ben and Jerry’s practice of odd flavour names, but these were just even more confusing. ‘Big and Milky’, ‘Cow Feed’, ‘Soft and Serve’...what on earth were these crazy flavours?

However, all of Clara’s doubts were assuaged by the one all important factor, price. There was some kind of sale on horny cow ice cream and she could get 3 large tubs for the price of 1. Plus the price of a single tub was already stunningly cheap relative to the other brands. It may be some inferior knock off, but with this deal she had to at least give it a try! Clara decided to purchase one of each sort, since she had the 3 for 1 deal on her side, and chucked them into her trolley with a shrug. She would certainly be well stocked on ice cream for these hot summer days to come!

It was later that day when she actually tried the product. After shopping and some cleaning up she decided she had earned a rest and put on a classic old movie. Something she had seen many times before but it didn’t matter in the slightest. And what better reward to go with her film than some ice cream? She was only in a pair of shorts and a thin white t-shirt but she was still overheating and something cold and creamy was exactly what she needed.

She settled in on the couch and began watching as she opened up the tub. She still didn’t know what the flavours meant, so she picked one at random. Soft and Serve. It seemed the most normal sounding, and as she popped off the lid she could see the familiar light yellowish tint of a typical vanilla soft serve. Her spoon slid easily into the fluffy frozen treat and she brought it up to her lips with mild trepidation.

Moment of truth, it was cheap but was it bad? No! As she felt the soft cream melt into her tongue a charming burst of vanilla spread across her mouth and she gave a pleasant sigh as she swallowed happily. It was fantastic!

She gobbled down scoop after scoop as she watched her movie. Despite vanilla typically being a ‘boring’ flavour, this was anything but. It had the perfect balance of rich creaminess and sweet vanilla essence and she hungrily swallowed it down. She was eating it so fast that she experienced something that hadn’t happened since she was a child. Brain freeze.

As she shoveled spoonfuls of ice cream into her mouth eagerly, she started to feel a cool tingle spread through her mouth and shoot through her teeth and up her face until it hit her head. She honestly couldn’t remember quite what brain freeze felt like, but this was surely it. Her whole head felt cool and her mind seemed to stop. She lost all focus on her movie for a while as she struggled to overcome the odd sensation. The icy chill which gripped her mind.

It wasn’t as bad as she recalled. Sort of relaxing even, but she wanted to concentrate on the film and so she tried to push past it. Yet, even as she felt her mind freeze up, she continued to hoist massive spoonfuls of ice cream to her lips and swallow them down without regard to the consequences. It was like she wasn’t even in control of herself anymore. Her head was cool and numb and her thoughts slowed and all she could think about was the creamy and delicious ice cream which kept melting on her tongue.

As this went on, her whole body seemed to cool and relax as well. She felt oddly weak, sinking deeper into the couch and even the spoon felt heavier as she continued to scoop and swallow. Getting down to the bottom of the tub now, and the name of this flavour kept dancing through her frozen head now. Soft and Serve. Soft. Serve. Soft. Serve. Soft…Serve…

By the time she had finished, she was completely lost as to where she was in the movie. She had also eaten quite a bit of ice cream, though she didn’t feel particularly full. Maybe because she had eaten it so quickly, or perhaps this was lower in calories? Whatever the case, her mind started to thaw and now she could go back to focusing on the movie.

But as she slowly regained her senses, she glanced at the now empty tub in her lap and read some text on the side.

‘Soft and Serve. Feel your strength and cares melt out of your body as this smooth and intense vanilla sensation makes you docile and subservient. When you finish this tub, make sure to try more of our fantastic flavours!’ it said.

Clara wrinkled her brow for a moment. Sort of an odd description...docile and subservient...though she certainly did seem to feel that way. Soft and weak and willing. Just waiting here to be told what to do. And of course, that order was right there in front of her. She would try more of the flavours. Yes, of course!

Almost in a trance, her mind not quite unfrozen, Clara wandered to the kitchen and grabbed another tub at random. Then she marched mindlessly back to the living room and slumped into the sofa to stare forward as if watching the film, though her mind was still too sluggish and relaxed to actually follow the plot. She simply watched the colours shift and flicker across the screen as she opened this tub and dug in.

This flavour was Big and Milky and it was a pure white colour. When the first spoon hit her tongue, she recognized the flavour and smiled. Coconut! Big and Milky, it made sense now. She giggled softly as she swallowed it down.

Just like the last tub, it tasted amazing! It was light and creamy and made her shiver with joy. She liked it even more than the last, and wasted no time in stuffing her face with it. Her spoon shaved delicate white peels of ice cream much like pieces of coconut and she eagerly scooped them into her mouth and felt waves of delight with each mouthful.

Once more, her mind froze over and all thoughts became encased in a wall of ice as she fell into a loop of scooping and swallowing. Her movements grew more sluggish and robotic, but she continued nonetheless, gobbling it down greedily.

Meanwhile, Clara had not yet noticed a rather peculiar change that was happening. It was gradual enough to be nearly imperceptible, but as the minutes rolled on the effects became more and more undeniable. Her breasts were swelling.

They started at a reasonable C cup, but by the time the dazed and delirious Clara noticed something was odd they had gained a whole cup size. Her breasts felt heavier, and they tingled slightly. She groaned around another spoon of addictive coconut cream as she forced her cold and useless brain to figure out what was happening.

She had lazily eaten several more spoonfuls before she finally realized that her breasts had actually grown. Once it dawned on her, it seemed so obvious. They were pushing up against her previously loose t-shirt more and more as she felt them continue to swell. She was sort of glad she hadn’t been wearing a bra that day.

At the same time as the soft breast tissue was swelling and her chest ballooned, the tingling got stronger. She moaned softly between mouthfuls of ice cream as she felt them becoming more sensitive and tender. Her nipples even stiffened and swelled like her breasts, until they were poking boldly through her top, making her swollen chest much more obscene.

At this point she was an E cup and her top was very constrictive. She managed to put down her spoon for long enough to tug the tight tee over her head and fling it across the room. The feeling of the silky material brushing her tender and puffy nipples as it was removed made her squirm and become flushed as it sent sparks of pleasure through her chest and directly to her crotch.

After that, she had one hand holding the spoon and the other on her chest, fondling her ever swelling breasts as she continued to mindlessly consume the product which was so clearly altering her. Deep down she was concerned as to what was happening to her, but those concerns were utterly frozen by her brain freeze. In her state she was only capable of eating and swelling and squeezing and moaning.

When her breasts reached F cup, her hand gave one breast a firm but playful squeeze and she was shocked to feel a surge inside it as something spurted forth from her hard nipple. Droplets of white milk dribbled out afterwards as she groaned and circled her thumb over her nipple, feeling the jolt of pleasure as well as the wetness of her milk coating her thumb.

She brought her thumb to her mouth instead of the spoon for a second and tasted her creamy lactation. To her surprise it tasted just like the ice cream. Yet her brain was too frozen to mull on that thought. Instead she continued brainlessly toying with her nipples and kneading her chest as more milk flowed out. Each surge of liquid which dribbled messily down her chest brought a wave of arousal and satisfaction. All the while she was spooning ice cream into her mouth.

When she reached the bottom of this tub, she was in quite the state. Her breasts had expanded to an incredible G cup and a trail of milk trickled down her chest whilst at the same time her jaw hung open as she drooled a mixture of spit and melted ice cream past her lips and down her chin. Her mind was now taking longer to thaw and she couldn’t stop rubbing and massaging her fat tits and writhing in joy.

In a total daze, she once again glanced to the tub, entirely uninterested by the movie which had long since become background noise. This tub had a similar message on the side.

‘Big and Milky. Coconuts are big and milky, just like your swollen udders will be after you finish this tub of creamy coconut ice cream. Don’t forget to try our other flavours next!’

“Big and Milky...swollen udders...” she mumbled as she read the tub.

Now she was topless, leaking milk and drooling with her crotch growing just as damp as her swollen udders. But she still managed to stumble back to the kitchen for the final tub. After strolling back to the couch, drops of milk splashing carelessly to the floor along the way, she began her final tub.

This was her favourite flavour. The label called it Cow Feed but she recognized the chocolate taste the instant it hit her tongue. She shivered and raised the tub to her face and began to hungrily and frantically froce more and more of it past her lips.

The brain freeze this time was more potent and faster. It could have been the way she was eating it or the fact that her head was already assaulted by the utter numbness of continual brain freeze, but she didn’t care. She had long since grown used to it. It was just like her mind wasn’t there. She didn’t need it anyway. She just needed more of this wonderful ice cream.

Between desperate shoveling her hips grinded into one of her cushions and her inflated udders bounced mesmerizingly as she humped and jiggled and swallowed like a stupid and greedy cow. Moans became more sultry and slowly morphed as she continued.

“Mmmmm, Oooooohhh….mmmmmoooooo….mooooo….moooo….” she cooed with a dopey expression.

She hadn’t even noticed her moans transforming into moos. More and more, every piece of her mind was being reshaped as she willingly ate it up like the happy head of cattle she was soon becoming. Humping and leaking and mooing. Her mind was fading away as all that ice cream went straight to her head.

She finished this tub even faster than the others. By the time she was done, she barely knew where she was or even what she was. She knew she was horny. She knew her udders were heavy and full of milk and she wished they could be pulled and pumped properly. She knew her mind was frozen and she didn’t want it to unthaw. She wanted to keep eating lovely ice cream and leaking and mooing.

Then she noticed something on this tub.

‘Cow Feed. Eat it and feel your old thoughts fade as you become what you were always meant to be...a horny cow! Want more ice cream? Call us on 0842XXXXXX for delivery.”

Clara clumsily stumbled over to the phone and after a few attempts, managed to type in the number.

“Hello, horny cow ice cream, how can I help you today?” a friendly man answered.

“M-moooooooo!” was the first thing Clara said.

The man chuckled softly before responding “Ah, looking for delivery huh. We will send our people right away. Can you tell me your address?” he asked patiently.

It took some work for Clara to give the man her address. Her mind was a soft and frozen mush, like ice cream. She was just a dumb and dopey pair of udders. The whole time had one hand on her sloppy pussy, rubbing and fingering her folds as she spoke to the man, or tried to. Her moans and moos were obvious and constantly interrupting not just her speech but her own thoughts.

However, the man was patient and kind and helped the silly cow along the way. He also reassured her that everything would be fine and their people would arrive soon. She only hung up when she heard her doorbell ringing.

Opening the door eagerly, the two men who had arrived stared in awe at the woman who answered. Massive udders exposed and covered in trails of milk, she had one hand pinching her nipples and the other was under her shorts, working her slick slit as she gawked brainlessly at them.

Clara expected them to deliver ice cream to her, but instead they strapped a collar with a bell to her neck and led her outside. On the collar it read her name, or her new name as it would be. ‘Clarabelle’. The man she had spoken to must have taken liberties with her name after she told him. Not that Clarabelle actually cared. She stumbled forward, guided by the men to a trailer where she was pushed inside. Once inside she fell to her knees and she was too clumsy and dumb to stand back up.

There, she saw a few other women like her. Well, they didn’t exactly look like women anymore. With their enormous udders dangling from their chests and their dull and dimwitted expressions...plus the collars with bells which jangled as they crawled around on all fours. These were clearly livestock. Soft and curvy cows to be milked and bred.

Clarabelle was right at home. She mooed happily as the trailer sped away towards her new life.

[bettysupremacy]

congrats on the jobbbbb!!!! you’re gonna be the cutest ice cream scooper evaaa (close tie to Steve) 🍦

Could I please request something where you’re the cute new hiree at scoops and Steve has to teach you the ropes while crushing a little (are we sensing a theme?)

thank you beautiful I loved writing this he’s such a nerd

“Okay,” Steve sighs heavily, leaning his weight onto the counter. “And this is where we make the cones.”

“Got it.”

“You might think ‘how hard could this be?’, well, you’d be surprised-“

“It was only hard for you!” Robin yells from behind the counter.

Steve laughs, welcoming the tease. “Yes, she’s totally right. It really was only hard for me.”

He shines in the fluorescent light of the sailor themed shop. The lights are actually loud, louder in your nervousness than you assume for him. His hair is big, swooping over and curling at the nape of his neck. He wears no hat, but you can assume why.

“Would you like her to teach you?”

You shake your head adamantly. Steve’s cute. Really cute. You’d seen him around town before, glimpses of a boy seemingly untouched by the hurdles of life, but you hadn’t known he’d worked here. Robin had given you the application as she had laid in your bed. Music played, the windows were down, the warm summery air drifted through the windows smelling of grass, and the both of you had collapsed silently on your twin.

“Please.” She had said, and you’d agreed.

But you didn’t know Steve worked here as well. Maybe Robin held that on purpose. You’d been to his house once. Once, for a party. It wasn’t lame and neither was his home. Tall ceilings, pretty staircases and family portraits. Why did he work here for $3 an hour? Steve doesn’t seem to know either.

“I’m very clumsy — I burn myself a lot — please ignore it.”

“I promise.”

He teaches you the mechanics of the waffle machine. It’s really simple actually, a lot simpler than he made it seem. The batter is pre-made, shipped once a week and held in the small fridge they desperately need to upgrade. Pour it in, wait 30 seconds, flip, and wait thirty seconds again. He’d burned himself pulling it out, hissing, but never faltering.

It’s golden and warm, crunchy and smelling softy of vanilla. He holds it until it’s no longer hot, and then hands it to you.

“Here,” he shrugs. “Eat your first creation.”

“Really?”

“It’s already touched my hands.” He smiles innocently. “I can’t tarnish our A+ health inspection.”

Your smile is shy as you grab it. “Thank you.”

“Mhm.”

You bite it carefully, tearing off a piece for him to eat. He takes it from your nimble fingers, eyeing the blue nail polish that cracks on your fingertips.

“So..” Steve’s awkward. “I heard you’ve known Robin awhile?”

You break off another piece of and pop it on your mouth. “Definitely awhile.”

“She’s cool,“ He smiles fondly. “Or whatever, but yeah.”

“Yeah.” You laugh a little at his redirection.

“Also,” he adds messily. “They say you have to wear the hat but..” he leans in to whisper cheekily. “screw company policy.”

You laugh loudly, startled at his closeness.

He goes to say something, pink lips parting before he’s cut off by Robin. All he can get out his a huff a breath and dully you notice you’re staring at his lips. You think he’s noticed too.

“Y/N!” Robin yells from the ice cream stand. “Get out here and let me teach you the scooper!”

You turn, smiling in the direction of your short haired friend.

“Guess I’ve gotta quit slacking.” You murmur.

“See you soon.” He’s remorseful.

“See you soon.” You amuse a little, walking towards the swinging door. He walks too.

“Right,” He bumps into you, laughing nervously. “Sorry.”

You smile, talking over him. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He cringes.

The door swings behind you, letting glimpse of laughter from the bustling store through. He sighs, palm to his eyes.

Yeah, he’s pretty cute.

[imaginaryf1shots]

My Girls (|||.5) | Max Verstappen

Words count: 5149

Driver!oc X Max Verstappen

Platonic!Driver!oc X the grid

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

This is just how some of the grid found out about Nathalie.

Series Warnings: cursing, child abandment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

A/N: Wasn't planning on posting this today, but I've been recieving a lot of love on this series so I thought why not treat you all.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous || Next

How they found out

2018 (Lewis) Nathalie is 2

It’s a nice day in Monaco, a lot of people who live in Monaco are now out of the country and it has a few tourists. The summer break is full on, Cecilia decided to enjoy the day and take Nathalie out, the mother daughter duo had a full day out. They went shopping, got Nathalie a new toy and a couple new outfits, Cecilia can’t believe how fast Nattie is getting bigger she’s walking, talking and eating. Then they got ice cream, Cecilia drove around for a bit while Nattie slept, Monaco is so small that Cecilia felt like she drove all of Monaco over 10 times, she stopped at a pier for a bit, Cecilia got out of the car, left the window open and lent on the side of the car looking out at the sea, it’s been so long since she’s partied on a yacht, it’s been a long time since she’s gone to any party. Period. 

Does she miss that time in her life, yes, does she regret it, no. She'd do the same things all over again, make the same mistakes, date that asshole if it meant she’d have her daughter with her. 

When Nathalie woke up, Cecilia decided it was time to head back. Having some disney music on, the windows down, wind in their hair, they were having so much fun. Glancing at the rearview window to see her beautiful girl smiling and moving around, made Cecilia the happiest woman alive.

Parking the car Cecilia got out of the car, grabbed their shopping bags, before she unbuckled Nathalie, the girl wanted to walk on her own. Closing the car and locking it, Cecilia held out her hand for Nathalie to take it.

“Maman, I don wanna goh home.” The small girl looked up at her mum with puppy dog eyes, pouting in the way she knew that Cecilia was weak for.

“Why Mon Ange? Want to spend more time with maman?” She asked with a smile, ever so patient, the way her mother was with her. Nodding, Cecilia smiled, she unlocked the car, placed everything back in locking the car before she held her hand out for Nattie, holding her mum’s hand, they walked around their neighbourhood. Nathalie was telling Cecilia about the play date she had with her cousin, or more like trying to, the two year old’s vocabulary was still very limited. One of Cecilia’s older brother’s sons is Nathalie’s age, so they often had play dates. Cecilia still lived with her parents, she never got to move out, her brother’s old room now Nathalie’s. 

The girl let go of her mum’s hand and started skipping as they walked, a woman with her dog was walking on the other side, the dog suddenly barked, scaring the little girl, who stumbled and fell down, in an instant her eyes filled with tears. 

“Maman!” She sobbed, holding her hands up wanting to be carried. Cecilia rushed to her making sure she wasn’t hurt before she scooped her up. The girl hugged her mother and cried. 

“It’s okay baby, let’s go home, it’s okay, you’re alright” She hushed, rubbing her hand up and down the toddler’s back in a comforting manner, she turned around to walk back to their house, her eyes looked around before they settled on a familiar pair of eyes. There he stood her colleague, she knows they live in the same neighbourhood, Monaco is small but Lewis Hamilton lived on the same street as her. They’ve met before on the grid and at FIA events.

Lewis knew it was her, the girl’s crying and shouting for her mother, gained his attention. Looking from mother to daughter, he quickly assessed the situation before giving Cecilia a kind smile. He nods in understanding before he walks up the steps for his building. Acting like he saw nothing.

Cecilia wanted to cry but she hoped that the nod and smile from the older driver meant that he’d keep it a secret. From her knowledge of Lewis, from his character he isn’t the type to tell. She doesnt know him that well but she hopes she knows him enough to make that judgement. 

Walking back home she hopes that she’s right.

2019 (Seb and Charles)

“I think you did great.” Sebastian said, making Cecilia roll my eyes at him, and sigh. The four time world champion took no offence knowing how frustrated she is, and he’s very close to the female.

“I don’t know about that.” Cecilia muttered and chose not to look at both the drivers with her, they were both out of their champagne covered clothes and into their team kits, the three finished their post race media duties and were in the hotel lobby slowly making their way to their rooms. They were all placed in the same level as each other, for the Canadian Grand Prix, it was accidental but none of them was complaining. 

“Has anyone at Mclaren said anything?” Charles asked his friend, they have known each other for years now, cecilia was the only female who was at all the races growing up, not the only female at a race but she was at all of them, any race she could participate in she was in, and any race she could go to watch she went, because of that the girl’s social circle is big. Which wasn’t a good thing when the media found out about her being the new Mclaren driver, calling her all the names under the sun, ‘fans’ asking for her to be removed.

“No, but I'm on a yearly contract, I have to get as many podiums as I can to guarantee a seat next year.” Cecilia said and they got into the left, she leaned into the back of the elevator and crossed her arms.

“Then you got nothing to worry about, you’ve been winning Mclaren points every race, something not a lot of drivers can do in their first year.” Sebastian says, patting her shoulder.

“Says the great Sebastian Vettle.” Cecilia says and pouts, Seb and Charles laugh at her antics, Seb pulls her for a side hug. He’s been looking out for her since she was a reserve driver, she had met him a few times before she got into F1, she is a F2 World Champion after all. 

“Come on Cece, you’re doing amazing, Mclaren has been singing praises about you since the start of the season besides we’re only 7 races in AND you won in Austria.” Charles said and the trio got out of the left walking down the hallway towards their rooms.

“Maman!” A young squeaky voice shouted before a small body crashed into cecilia. The woman instinctively picked up the girl, before she froze.

“Nathalie!” Another older voice shouted, the males stared wide eyed as another woman who they know as your mother ran over, a nervous and apologetic look in her eyes.

“It’s okay Maman I got her.” Cecilia told her mother with a small smile, Nathalie wrapped her arms around her mum’s neck and laid her head on her shoulder shyly looking at the men staring at her and her mother.

“Are you sure?” She asked not convinced, Cecilia nodded, her mother leaving back to her room which is next to her daughter’s.

“Is she yours?” Sebastian asked softly, he had no idea cecilia had a daughter, and from the looks of it he knew that Charles also had no idea. 

“Yeah, Nathalie, say hi.” The young girl refused and hid her head in her mother’s hair.

“She looks so much like you.” Sebastian said with a smile, he could see the worried look on her face, he instantly knew this is the reason the girl disappeared for a year and a half.

“That’s why you took time off.” Charles concluded, saying what Sebastian was thinking, Nathalie is a spitting image of her mother, a mini her, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes, the eyes are something the Hannsons all had, a family trait. “How old is she?”

“Nattie, why don’t you tell them how old you are?” cecilia tried to prompt her daughter softly, the young girl looked at her mother, seeing them looking at each other, they couldn't spot anything that wasn’t cecilia, Cecilia is looking at a younger version of herself. “Come on, mon ange, you always see them on the telly.” 

“I’m three.” The little girl looking at them and holding her four fingers out, Cecilia laughed and pushed one finger down, kissing her cheek.

“Such a big girl.” Sebastian told her with a grin on his face, making Nathalie grin at him, she’s at the age where she doesn’t like to be babied, and loved to act a little older, wanting to be independent. But at the end of the night all she wanted was to snuggle and sleep with her mum. “Did you eat?”

“No, I wanted to eat with maman.” 

“Come on, let’s get into my room where we can talk, privately.” Cecilia followed the two males silently into Sebastian’s room, Cecilia sat on the sofa and Nathalia got out of her arms and started wandering around, her curiosity getting over her shyness. As the males sat down everyone made sure they could still see Nat.

“Why didn't you tell me?” Charles asked, he didn’t want to sound like he was angry or betrayed even if he was feeling a little sad his friend didn’t trust him enough to tell him she has a daughter.

“It’s a decision that my family and I took when I decided to keep her, and still continue racing, I was barely 18 when I had her, I got pregnant when I was 17, and it was a hard time, my family gave me the all the choices and told me they’d stand by me no matter what. But when I told them I wanted to race there were some things that we agreed upon.”

“Being the only female isn’t easy, people were already talking, brining a baby into it would’ve just pushed it more.” Sebastian added before Cecilia continued, again he understood her reasoning. He saw tears in her eyes a couple times when she was hounded and booed, she looks strong and unbothered on the outside but when she’s alone she lets her tears out, the one time she had a podium this year was just filled with boos and hate.

“Yes, and I couldn’t just tell anyone, I was hiding her, but if people started to find out then they found out, but I wasn’t going to parade her around. A couple of people at Mclaren know, and I think Lewis knows.” Cecilia ran her hand through her hair pushing it out of her face.

“Lewis knows?” Charles was surprised by that, yes Cecilia and Lewis weren’t enemies, but they weren’t close, not close enough for him to know and for Charles to not know.

“I think he does, you know he lives close to me and my family, he saw us once in Monaco.” Cecilia explained.

“He didn’t say anything?” Seb asked knowing that if Lewis knew he wouldn’t say anything to anyone anyway, you can trust Lewis with your secrets.

“No, never asked either, but I’m 99 percent  sure he knows.” Cecilia said and smiled at Nathalie who came over saying she’s hungry. The group took a break and ordered food from room service, in the meantime Cecilia left her daughter with the two men and quickly went to her room getting her daughter’s plastic plate, utensils and cup, with a toy she can play with. By the time she was back Sebastian had Nathalie laughing so hard. Taking out her phone she took a quick video wanting to savour the moment. Nathalie looked up to Seb so much and for some reason seeing him with her daughter made her so happy, her role model with her daughter. Seb already had two children and another on the way, he knew how to handle kids.

Cecilia sat next to Charles leaving Seb to play with her daughter, Charles took Cecilia’s hand in his making her look at him, he was smiling at her, before he pulled her in for a hug. Thinking about how hard it must’ve been for her, having to choose and take all those decisions at only 17.

“Mathew?” He whispered and Cecilia nodded into his shoulder, she tried not to tear up, it’s been over three years, but out of her family she never talked about it with anyone, she doesn’t want to keep her daughter a secret, she wants to take her to races for her to see her mum race in real life and not just on screens.

“But he gave up all his rights, couldn’t even stay for her to be born, his name isn’t on her birth certificate.” Cecilia told him and he squeezed her tighter, if she had another family she would’ve been so lost, he’s thankful for the love her family has for each other.

“She doesn’t need him and neither do you, she has a family that loves her.” Charles told her, pulling back and smiling at his friend.

“And new uncles.” Seb added before tickling Nathalie, who just laughed her heart out.

The food came and as Cecilia ate she helped her daughter and answered all the questions the two had for her, ranging from does Nat travel everywhere with her, to how hard she had to train to be able to get back in shape after the pregnancy.

2019 (Lando, Pierre, Alex)

The end of the first half of the season, summer break. Most drivers went back home to begin their time off. Not all drivers though. Before everyone heads home, some of the drivers decided to spend a few days in Monaco to party and live it up before they returned home. Of course those already living in Monaco were already there. 

A yacht was rented for the group to have a semi-private time together and let loose, the drivers made a group chat and agreed on a time and date to meet up and just party, all plus ones and close friends invited. Charles had Lando, Pierre and Alex at his house for a pre-party hangout.

Cecilia made her way to Charles’ house first in her Mclaren, one of the guys would be riding with her on the way there, she planned not to drink, knowing she had to be sober for her plans with Nathalie the day after. Her mum told her to postpone her outing with Nattie to have a night out and drink and live like everyone her age, Cecilia wasn't like everyone her age, she has a daughter she has to think about. To Cecilia, Nathalie always came first.

It didn't take her long to reach Charles’ building, before she made her way up, having already been there a few times before. Ringing the doorbell once, the door swung open and Pierre was standing there with a drink already in his hand. An amused Cecilia raised her eyebrow.

“Cecilia!” Pierre greeted dragging the ‘a’ a little, looks like the drink in his hand wasn’t his first one. 

“Piereeeee.” Cecilia exaggerated before she invited herself in, seeing as the Frenchman wasn’t moving. Making it to the living room, Cecilia saw her teammate sitting with a beer in his hand, Alex and Charles talking about something. “Looks like you lot are already having fun.”

“Cece, you’re late.” Lando told the older girl, with a little whine.

“I’m not, I came on time like we agreed.” The girl said looking at her phone.

“You left me with them, you’re my teammate, you're supposed to help me.” Lando fake whined making Cecilia laugh as she sat next to him. “When are we leaving anyway?”

“Daniel said the yacht will move in an hour or so.” Alex told the group. 

The group decided to leave in 40 minutes or so, Charles’ girlfriend was on her way anyways. 20 minutes in, Cecilia’s phone rang while she was in the bathroom.

“Cece, your phone’s ringing!” Charles called for his friend, standing outside the bathroom door. “It’s your mum.”

“Answer for me please, I'll be out in a minute.” The female called trying to finish her business faster to get out. She heard Charles talking to her mum in french, but she couldn't make out what he was saying. Everyone in her family spoke French, Swedish and English as main languages, with a few speaking more, but the baseline is those three languages. So it wasn’t weird for her to have Charles talking to her mum in their mother tongue.

Getting out of the bathroom after washing her hands, she found Charles in the kitchen with her phone looking worried and conflicted.

“What is it?” She asked, holding her hand out for her phone. “What did she want?”

“Uh, she wanted to tell you that Nathalie is sick.” He didn't know how to tell her without scaring her, he thought about saying it in other ways, but how do you tell a mother that their child is ill without scaring them, you simply can’t. 

“Sick? How sick, I was just there.” Cecilia asked, already moving, Charles followed after her. He cursed himself once he saw the look on her face, she’s imagining the worse.

“She said it wasn't serious, she just threw up and complained about her stomach.” Charles explained, the others looked at the duo, Lando and Alex having no idea what the other two were saying only knowing a few french words but nowhere near the amount they'll need to understand the fast and panicked French, Pierre who got what they were saying had no idea who they were talking about.

“That’s serious, I’m sorry but I have to go.” She got her bag and turned to leave, her hands were shaking and her heart beating in her chest so fast she wondered if anyone could hear it.

“Wait, you’re panicking, you can’t drive like this.” Charles said, driving over the speed limit in streets like Monaco is dangerous even to people like motorsport drivers, driving fast is second nature, but not when you’re panicking. 

“What do you expect me to do? She’s my daughter!” Pierre choked on air it seemed looking wide eyed at the blonde woman. “I’m getting there, move out of my way.”

“What’s going on?” Lando asked moving closer, he’s never seen either driver mad at each other, but Cecilia was shaking, tears were gathering in her eyes as she tried to push them away.

“Fuck, fuck.” Cecilia cursed noticing how much she’s shaking, no way she could drive right now, Charles is right. She looked at Lando. “I uh, I have a daughter, who is sick right now, i have to go.”

“I’ll drive you.” Charles offred being the only one who didn’t drink. “Come on.”

He pulled her by her shoulder leaving the rest of the drivers shocked. Charles and Cecilia left, leaving the other three to put the pieces together, Pierre telling them what he heard in French and like those before them they started connecting the dots, the reason she took time off. Lando being her teammate, looking back now there were hints, but without context he wouldn't have got it.

A bracelet with Maman, flashes of pictures when she was showing him something on her phone, lots of I love you darling and what not, but he thought maybe she was dating someone, he’s seen her mother in their hotels but she doesn't always come to the track. A woman who can guess now is a nanny who’d come up to talk to Cecilia and leave. So many hints, but damn Cecilia hid it well.

“Who do you think the dad is?” Alex asked after they came to a few theories and conclusions, waiting for Charles to come back.

“Must be that asshole Mathew, they dated when we were racing years ago and continued until I'm guessing she got pregnant.” Pierre said, none of Cecilia’s friends ever liked Mathew. 

“Who?” Lando asked, he had no idea who they were talking about, him and Cecilia didn’t really get close before F1, she was always in the groups above him.

“An asshole Cece dated for a while, filthy rich, a couple of years older, was taking over daddy’s job and wouldn't shut up about it.” Pierre informed Lando. “Cecilia’s also very rich but you don’t see her walking around throwing it in everyone’s face, don’t know who he was showing off to.”

“He used to stay in Monaco a lot, but from his Instagram I haven't seen him here in years, his Instagram was once filled with pictures of him and Cecilia but one day everything was gone, I thought that meant they broke up.” Alex said, frowning.

“Me too, she too deleted all their pictures, before she went MIA.” 

They talked for a bit more before Charles came back, and filled in the gaps given permission by Cecilia and made them swear not to tell anyone, giving Pierre a look. They swore to keep it a secret, if this came out it would hurt their friend, the backlash could be carrier altering. 

They got ready to leave Charles’ girlfriends texted that she’ll meet them there. One the way they got a call from Cecilia telling them(charles) that Cecilia is okay, she just ate something that didn't agree with her stomach. Lando shouted that he wanted to meet his niece before he went back to London, Cecilia laughed and told him to come over whenever. Pierre and Alex also invited themselves, making Cecilia laugh again, shaking her head at her friends who couldn't see her.

With a final ‘have fun’, she hung up.

Late 2019 (Max)

By this time in 2019 Daniel and Carlos also knew about Nathalie, they haven’t met her, seen pictures but they knew about her. With it being Monaco Grand Prix weekend, and under the reassurance of her family and friends mixed with her daughter’s pouty face and big eyes, Cecilia decided to let her daughter come to the race. She’d come in with her mum from the back entrance, with the help of Mclaren they were able to get in undetected. They were there since early morning, Nattie met Daniel and Carlos, they were mesmerised by the little girl, Charles once again was saying to anyone and everyone(that knows about Nattie) that he’s her favourite and he had a reason to say that, proud uncle. 

Cecilia’s mum stayed with the girl in the drivers room whenever they saw any cameras coming around, Nathalie had a little nap before they went to watch the race from the hospitality.

It was race day, everyone was buzzing, Cecilia was starting fourth, not bad. She didn’t just want to win this race because it’s her home race but because her daughter was watching, and she looked so cute with the headphones she had on that muffled the sounds a little, the place is noisy as hell. 

Starting the race, Cecilia had Max, Lewis and Charles ahead of her with Seb just behind her. The Monaco race is always a fan favourite, Cecilia knows this track like she knew the back of her hand, she ran it and drove through it, she can find her way around with her eyes blindfolded. This may be the reason she was able to get to second place, taking over Charles, before she took over Lewis. Cecilia was just thinking about how proud her daughter would be watching and knowing that her mum was the only woman in F1 and that she was beating all those men. When the race came to an end, she was back in third place, lewis having overtaken her in the final two laps but she had the fastest lap so that’s another point for her team.

Cecilia was grinning when she took off her helmet, happiness cursing through her, she wished she could win, but having a podium is something that she loved the feeling of, she’s becoming better and better with each race, and it’s evident in her scores. Mclaren are over the moon with her. She celebrated with her team, before she got weighted and interviewed.

After the celebrations and more interviews, the venue started emptying. Cecilia saw her daughter for a few minutes before she was rushed for a quick meeting. By the time she was done, most of the place was empty; a few teams were still present, also doing meetings or last checkups and whatnot. 

“Maman, where's Nattie?” Cecilia asked her mother, seeing her sitting alone. The small room made her feel a little claustrophobic after a long time.

“She is napping in your room.” Going to her room to take her daughter home, she opened the door and saw the small blanket Nattie couldn't sleep without but she wasn’t there, there wasn't any place for the girl to hide in, but Cecilia still looked everywhere, with each passing minute she started to panic. 

“Maman! She isn’t here.” Cecilia called to her mother who was talking with Lando now, both looked as panicked as her when they heard her words. “Start looking around, if you find her, call me.”

“I’ll tell the others!” Lando called as both him and Cecilia left the Mclaren garage, they went opposite ways, while Cecilia's mum started looking in all the small spots Nathalie could’ve gone to in the garage. Cecilia called for Nattie as she walked/ran, her eyes taking in everything as much as she could. Managing to take out her phone and call Charles while still looking around.

“Hey are you-”

“Is Nattie with you?” She cut him off, he could hear the urgency in her voice, frowning.

“No, I’m with Seb, we'll look for her.”

“Okay my mum and Lando are also looking, call me.”

“Okay.”

Coming up on RedBull’s garage, it looked empty, but Cecilia wasn’t leaving a place where she didn’t look. She crouched as she tried to see if the tiny human she gave birth to was anywhere. “Damn it Nattie, where are you?”

Standing up she was about to leave when she heard talking, walking in more, she was going to walk where none RedBull personnel were allowed, and at this moment she didn't care. And it’s a good thing she did, rounding the corner where her daughter was, in her orange Mclaren shirt and a RedBull(?) hat, in the arms of today’s winner, Max Verstappen himself. 

Her daughter is okay, and looked like she was having the time of her life talking to Max. quickly texting her mum and Lando that she found her, before she made her presence known.

“Nathalie! Where were you?” Walking up to the due, once she was in range her girl leaned over and Cecilia easily took her form Max. “You scared me so much.”

“I’m sorry Maman.” She whispered not looking sorry at all, looking up at Max she found herself tearing up, she only just held herself together to find her girl, now letting a little bit of the panic she was feeling get to her, she couldn't help it. 

“It’s okay, I found her walking by the garage and she said she wanted a hat like mine.” Max explained(maxplained) trying to calm the almost crying mother, he found out from Nathalie that her mum is Cecilia and he could see the resemblance loud and clear. “I came back here to give her one, before taking her back to Mclaren.”

“Thank you.” Cecilia said letting a few tears slip out of her eyes, Nattie seeing the tears on her mother’s face also started crying, Max instinctively just pulled the mother daughter due in his arms. He doesn't know why he did it, but it felt like the right thing to do, he felt one of Cecilia’s hands grab his RedBull shirt tightly and her hand was shaking. 

“She was telling me how her mum was on the podium, how she was the only girl racing.” Max said to Cecilia, trying to lift up her mood a little, pulling back a little, Cecilia gave her daughter a teary smile. Max whipped Nattie tears. 

“I’m okay baby, don’t cry.” Cecilia told her girl softly.

“Mum was just worried about you.” Max said in a tone Cecilia hadn’t heard out of the man before. Yes they’ve grown closer as drivers/friends, their relationship is different from the one they’ve had before, but Max is no Charles or Pierre, they aren’t as close as she is with them. 

“Yes, mon ange, you have to be careful, you have to tell me or grand-mère where you’re going.” Cecilia said softly, pushing Nattie’s hair behind her ear, the hat on her head far too big for her. 

“I’m sorry momie.” 

“It’s okay baby.” Cecilia said and placed Nathalie on the floor, holding her hand. She turned to look at Max, she didn’t ask him because he might’ve not agreed, but she hugged him with one arm around the neck, yes he gave her a hug but she was crying. “Thank you so much Max, I was going out of my mind.” 

Max placed one of his hands around her waist and the other one landed on top of Nathalie’s head in a comforting manner.

“It’s okay, I was just about to go find you.” He told her they were talking so low, Nathalie couldn't pick up on what they were saying. 

“I owe you one.” Cecilia said and pulled back the hand he had around her took a few seconds before it dropped as well.

“Well, I’ll hold you onto that.” He cheekily replied, making Cecilia smile and nod her head.

“Whatever you want.”

“I call first dibs on babysitting duties, I mean not a lot of racers in Monaco.” He shrugged. “And Nathalie said she wanted to see who won today, so she may have to see me a lot.”

“We’ll see about that, I might just start winning.” Cecilia joked with the other driver, they held eye contact for a moment, shades of blue meeting in a stare they couldn't decipher yet, Cecilia’s phone rang breaking them from their moment, she fished it out of her pocket answering once she saw Charles’ name. Telling him she was at RedBull and that she’s coming, ending the call quickly. She gave Max another grateful look. “I’ll owe you another one, if you could just keep Nattie a secret.”

“You don’t have to owe me for that one, I wasn't planning on it.” telling thank you again Nat and Cecilia left for Mclaren where Charles, Seb, Lando, Danny and her mum were waiting, Pierre had to leave once he knew that they found Nattie.

-> Next

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif  . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr

[willowser]

you know gojo satoru as a friend of a friend.

you hear more than you think you should about him, given that he's not really your friend, but that's all just chalked up to him being gojo satoru.

you hear conflicting things. some say he's a playboy and some say he's the biggest virgin on the planet. some say he's rich only from family money and some say he's been the most important part of the gojo business since it began. some say he's so fake that it's frightening, and some say he wouldn't hurt a fly.

it's enough to kind of ward you off a little bit, how much is said about him. whenever he pops into your thoughts, you always end them with a shake of your head, a "i really don't have time for that kind of drama in my life".

he disappears for a little while. you notice and you don't. parties and dinners without him are less chaotic, but not as memorable. the gift exchanges you do with your friends are, as much as you hate to say, lackluster. you're not invited to any weird, big events anymore—like some celebrity birthday or fashion shows or black tie silent auctions—even though you never went before; the tickets would just sit on your dresser until the ink faded and lost color, and now you don't have any.

you never ask, because you don't know who to. he and suguru weren't talking before he left, anyway, for reasons that you're too far removed to get the scoop on. you know of the students he mentors but you don't know them, actually, and you think the little mauve-haired one would have the answer, but you can't commit to the awkwardness of asking him. after a few weeks, his cousin disappears, too—a quiet boy with a sad look in his eyes, who has only ever been kind to you.

you run into him by chance, at an ice cream shop of all places.

his hair is not styled, flat and a bit dull against his head, and his eyes aren't as bright as you think you remember them being. but it's hard to tell. that makes you feel bad, and so you stop trying to find all the little ways he's changed—because if you want to know so bad, why don't you man up and ask?

he looks tired and his smile doesn't dimple, but it stretches thin across his face regardless when you say hello to him. something about his smell is off, too. expensive but not in a sharp, cologne way, but a sterile, clinical way. he knows your name and when he says it, his voice rasps, like he's been asleep for a long time. you don't know what any of it means, but it alarms you in an instinctive way, like how you know when someone is hurting and just needs a bit of kindness.

yuuta comes from around the corner while you make small talk, but he gives gojo his space. shoots him a small thumbs-up that is returned.

you've both been standing in the corner for an amount time that doesn't match the distant relationship you have, but leaving him now feels like abandonment. you never realized how much he towers over you. you never realized how much he joked until he doesn't.

you realize you don't have any of your own opinions of him, of satoru. only ones that have been fed to you.

you decide to start forming your own.

"i feel like," you reach behind him for the counter, for a spoon. the little cup of ice cream in his hand is melting because you've been talking for too long. "i haven't seen you in a long time."

he doesn't say anything when you scoop up a little and hold it to his lips. you don't know if you're being offensive or weird because you don't have any sort of threshold with him, but there's only one way to get one.

the first thing you really truly feel about him is that maybe he needs a little more help than anyone realized. maybe that's where he's been.

eventually some life comes back to his face, and he takes the bite you're offering. "yeah," he agrees, and when his eyes shift towards the window, the sun shining through makes them seem translucent. "i didn't feel like myself for a while."

"well, do you now?"

"i think so," he eyes shift towards yuuta, who smiles reflexively, a bit shy, when you glance at him. "i hope so."

you turn back to him and take your own bite of his ice cream—a rather large one, too, since it's melting—before saying, "yeah, me too."

and you still don't know what's right or wrong in his eyes, but he smiles, dimpled, and you think you're finding your footing.

[vecnuthy]

Slingin' 🍦⚓️

second entry for @steddiemicrofic pool | wc: 442 | rated: G | cw: a little suggestive at the end

It was the hottest day of the year yet. Mall culture drew the masses, and the masses had flooded Scoops, which was currently manned by only Robin Buckley and Steve Harrington.

The space? Packed.

The line? Through the door.

The sticky ice cream residue smeared across their uniforms caught on their forearms, snagging at their skin as they worked up a sweat in the ice cream shop. They didn't have time to clear tables, clean up spills, or take out the trash, let alone deal with the typical bullshit banter that customers threw at them.

"We're out of peppermint stick."

"How? That's literally your least popular flavor."

It took everything in Robin to just smile flatly. Steve, however, couldn't hold back his exasperation as he threw his head back with an eye roll, pushed through the door to the back, then re-emerged with a challengingly deadpanned, "We're out."

He's pretty sure their ordering a USS Butterscotch was petty revenge. Whatever. It was only the seventh banana split he'd had to assemble in the last hour. His eye didn't twitch or anything.

After that, he and Robin swapped out. Figured it was time, since Steve had been scooping ice cream for so long. No other reason.

"Captain," the next customer greeted with a smirk.

Steve couldn't help but smile.

"What can I get you, sailor?"

"Oh, 'sailor' today," the customer said. Steve shot an amused look of warning. "I see."

Steve took in their appearance — deeply sleeveless band tee, flushed skin, sparkling brown eyes, curly hair in a low bun — as they mulled over options.

"Scoop of chocolate in a cup with a waffle sail, please," they smirked, placing a bill in Steve's open hand.

"You could've just gotten a cone," Steve replied, gathering change.

"Not the same, big boy."

Steve's lips curled up into a smile as he grabbed a spoon, stuck it in the scoop next to the artfully-placed wedge (nice, Robin), and handed the cup to Eddie.

"Aww, no baby spoon?"

"We're out." Steve glanced at his lips.

Eddie's eyes shifted to peer over Steve's shoulder to the well-stocked container.

"I'll eat it too fast."

"Aww," Steve gave a faux sympathetic pout. "Guess you'll have to get another scoop."

Eddie hummed then raised the cup in thanks with, "Birdie."

Robin saluted, and Eddie settled into a seat with a full view of Steve at the counter.

Through the hustle, Steve couldn't help but look over and take in Eddie slowly eating a big spoonful of ice cream. How his lips contoured the lump of chocolate. With full eye contact.

Steve overshot a cup, making strawberry milkshake pool onto his shoes.