#one of my favorite mug broke

[simplepotatofarmer]

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[chaoticlaurel]

Random, self indulgent art because I've been having nightmares lately about the ~passage of time~ ooOooOOOo and just generally feeling touch starved ahahahahah

Oh to be 5, who held their care on their small, little shoulders, too big to carry, yet to them, it was too little to give out to the world. How can someone so full of love be so carefree. Where did I go TvT </333

[vitiateoriginator]

Every single day of my life I am missing her

[sourb0i]

Cats will see any object on a table and say "is anyone going to knock that onto the floor?" and then not wait for an answer

[onlythebravest]

.

[rhosgobelbun]

so so so heart broken

[sapphicmsmarvel]

Azriel: Through Feyre's eyes

This absolutely follows my favorite fic plotline where Feyre and Y/N are childhood best friends and when Nesta and Elain are taken, Y/N is taken as well and Cauldron Made. 

This is Feyre, watching her best friend fall for her brother in law 💙

I def recommend reading The Night Court’s Justice and The Beginning of Your Life with Azriel. I’m pulling stuff from both those fics.  

Feyre truly didn’t know how Y/N would react to this world. 

Y/N hated change, she hated socializing unless she had her emotional support extrovert with her (Feyre or Elain), but, at the same time she loved adventure. 

And this was possibly a bigger adventure than even her favorite books were about. 

According to Rhys’ messages while Feyre was at the Spring Court, Y/N was taking a while to warm up to them. Shorter than it took Feyre (which was surprising) to warm up, but Y/N even left her room after a few hours being cooped up. 

She had helped nurse Cassian and Azriel back to health with Madja, quickly finding her footing even though Y/N absolutely hated medical things. 

When Feyre came back from the Spring Court, Y/N nearly took her out with her new strength. 

“Sorry, I'm still getting used to it. I broke a mug this morning.” She said into Feyre’s hair. Then pulled away from her, “Actually I’m not sorry, you left! Again!” She scolded Feyre, and Feyre had never been happier to be scolded. 

Feyre grabbed the necklace she always wore, the one she had matching with Y/N. “I had you with me.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes and grabbed her own necklace out of her shirt. “Bitch.” 

“Loser.” And you two clinked your necklaces together.

And that was that. 

The first dinner that night, Feyre introduced you to Lucien. She saw the blush on your cheeks and knew you thought he was handsome, Feyre herself thought he was. 

Eventually, everyone had sat at the table, you were in between Cassian and Azriel, almost like you had every dinner since she was gone. 

“Your friend is a horrid nurse.” Cassian wrinkled his nose. 

“Okay listen, I’m not used to this shit.” You said, passing the beets to Azriel. Who graciously accepted it, a light blush dusting his cheeks that told Feyre everything she needed to know. 

She glanced at Rhys who widened his eyes slightly and said in her mind “He’s been pining since she told him to ‘sit the fuck down’ when he tried to get up too early.” Rhys had a hearty chuckle, “Meanwhile I decided I wanted her around.” Feyre let out a small smile. 

“You should not gag when seeing a tendon in your patient's wing!” Cassian declared. 

Y/N gagged at the reminder. 

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

Watching her best friend fall in love brought Feyre an incredible amount of joy. She was a natural meddler and nosey in general. 

She watched as Azriel and you became inseparable. Although she had her mate to thank for that, after all you became the Night Court’s Justice and then you and Azriel began a professional partnership. 

It stressed her out, you being away. You were her emotional support person, even before her husband and mate. But you two would have mental conversations every day if you could. Unless you and Az were deep undercover. 

The secret smiles, the inside jokes, the memories that you and Az shared. She loved witnessing them.

Then, your accident happened. 

She hadn’t felt terror like that since Rhys ‘died’. When Rhys had informed her that you were on your deathbed, and that he had instructed a carriage to come and retrieve you and Azriel, she thought she was going to throw up. 

She insisted on being in the carriage, which then prompted Rhys to insist she take Nesta with her as Nesta had all the training of an Illyrian and could, frankly, kill someone with a single swipe of her hand. 

That worked out just fine for her, as Nesta and you were close as well. Her and her sister were repairing their relationship. What’s a 12 hour jaunt through the forest to retrieve their near-dead friend? 

A lot. That’s what it was. 

They argued, they threatened. But it all came from a place of worry as those arguments would end with hugs and comfort that they both needed. 

They didn’t rest either, not until they saw you. About four hours in, Rhys had reached out and alerted Feyre that you had awoken, you were eating and giving Azriel shit. 

She was so relieved she wept, and when she shared the news with Nesta, she swept too. 

When they arrived at the Inn, and alerted the Innkeeper Esther greeted them and let them know you had just woken up and Azriel would bring you out shortly. She made her husband bring out your belongings. 

He brought out a bag and she could smell your blood on the clothes in them. It made her nearly sick. She knew Nesta felt the same way. They wouldn’t ease until they saw you. 

But they didn’t wait long, once they got your bags put away in the carriage, Azriel was coming outside with you in a bridal carry.

And the best part? You were smiling. 

She let out a breath of relief that Nesta echoed. Then the smell hit them. “Their mating bond has snapped.” Feyre whispered to Nesta. 

Nesta gave her a shit-eating, conspiratorial grin. “Oh, the boys will have fun teasing him.” 

And they did when you all got back and they watched him bridal carry you into your room at the townhouse. They then watched him nurse you back to health, like you did for him many moons ago. 

If she could’ve designed the perfect male for her best friend, it would’ve been Azriel. She had never seen him smitten because she had obviously just entered his life, but she’d say he was smitten for you.

You never lifted a finger. He’d get your doors, push in your chairs, he treated you like a princess. And he was your prince because you gave that energy right back to him. 

You had a habit of rambling. In the past, she watched as your partners would ignore you and the light dimmed from your eyes when you realized they weren’t listening. Azriel however, not only clearly listening, he smiled while you talked as if just your voice brought him joy. He would respond with questions and let you go into another rambling as you explained the answer. 

She watched you become a shell of yourself with your old partners. You blossomed with Azriel. 

You two always had some point of contact with each other. Not in the gross PDA way, but like your thighs touching sitting next to each other. Your foot on his leg. A hand hold. Hand in arm. Anything. 

She was happy to see the changes in him as well. Rhysand felt the same way. He was outwardly smiling and laughing. More affectionate with his friends. Hell, he was more confident in his hands, he allowed others to touch them and even wore rings now that he loved. 

Rhysand had told Feyre “He’s always wanted to wear jewelry but was worried his hands would look bad with them. I will forever be grateful to Y/N for making him more confident and comfortable.”

His shadows even buzzed about more. You giggled because they loved your hair. 

The honeymoon phase wasn't a ‘stage’ for you two. It was the whole relationship. Of course, you two had your arguments, every partnership did. And she definitely heard about them. But you always came back together in the end, you always knew you would. It made her so incredibly happy you had that security and safety with him. No matter what argument, you knew in your soul and bones, he would never cheat, never leave. 

She felt content knowing her best friend was taken care of. She also looked forward to a lifetime of double dates.

[sorapricots]

Breaking Point

Summary: In the way where you start to lose your shit after teaching the children in Xavier Institute for so long, your partner Logan decided it's time to take a break.

Pair: Husband!Logan Howlett x Mutant!AFAB!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: Curse words, reader have regenerative healing factor like Logan so she is actually as older as as Charles but look young, reader is married to logan, blood mention, 

A/N: it might seems crazy that I only come back here to write about Logan but damn I just cannot take my mind off from Logan. I might make one for Wade Wilson too tho. Also in all honesty I am not 100% proud with this one, but I just need to write this man so bad. So maybe I’m gonna make another one. 

Wc:  1,8k 

Beep... beep... beep...

You quickly turn off your alarm with a groan as you push yourself to sit on your bed. Another groan escaped your lips when you realized you broke another alarm for the third time this week and your husband is not beside you. You wipe your face harshly as you walk to the bathroom.

You take a cold quick shower in hope it can help you freshen up. A tired sigh was heard as you looked at yourself in the mirror. Eye bags can be seen even though it's not very noticeable. You quickly grab a concealer to hide your eye bags. Once you are satisfied with your concealer you quickly put on your daily-go-to make up and decide to put on a more neutral color outfit instead of your usual colorful one.

A black turtleneck paired with your favorite jeans, as you put on a worn-out brown leather jacket, and you decide to wear your boots for the last touch. You quickly put your wedding band on your finger before you forget it. And you decided to put the necklace your husband, Logan, bought for you almost 10+ years ago. You smile a little bit as your fingers carefully caress the vintage looking necklace.

As you grab your bedroom handle, you stop to kiss your wedding band, a habit you do before you start your day. Deep down in your heart, you hope today will be a more bearable day than the previous day. But of course your wish is only a mere wish when the moment you open the door you see students running past you with full speed almost hitting you. 

"Kids! No running in the hall!" You warned them before you carefully stepped out of your bedroom. 

"Good morning!" Ororo quipped when she saw you step into the kitchen. A mug of coffee in her hand and a muffin in the other. You give her a sweet smile before you grab yourself a cup of coffee.

"Good morning, ro. Have you seen Logan?" You softly asked as you sat yourself in one of the stools. Ororo looks at you for a second before blinking, trying to remember where the last time she saw the rugged guy. 

"Oh I saw him walk to the classroom, looks like he has History class to teach today." You hummed a bit as you took a sip from your mug. Eyes slowly darting to the clock beside the fridge.

"Ah shoot, I have class too. See you later, Ro." You quickly downed your coffee and put your mug in the sink before you walked to your class. You can hear Ororo wish you good luck as you walk away.

As you approach the classroom you can hear some of the students chattering. You take a deep breath before you open the door. Revealing a bit of chaos the students cause. You can feel the corner of your eyebrow twitch but you just let it slide as the students quickly take a seat when they see you.

"Good morning, everyone. I hope you had a nice rest last night. And I hope the assignment I gave last week is finished and ready to be submitted. Please put your work on my desk so I can grade it later." You speak as you grab some of the old literature books that you have. Students start piling up in front of your desk to put their assignments. All of them except one, John. He's known for not being punctual when it's about submitting assignments.

"John, where is your assignment?" You softly asked him as you try to calm down yourself as you can feel your patience running thin. He scratched his head before he let out an apologetic look.

"Sorry, Professor. I kind of forgot about it." He answered with full honesty. You close your eyes for a second before you give him a smile.

"It's okay, but as an exchange I want you to write a resume about this Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen and I want you to submit it tonight." John almost let out a protest but decided not to when he saw you giving a look. His body slumped down on his desk before he nodded. You then continue your teaching session.

Suddenly there's a knock on your classroom door. You let out a quick come in as you write down something about old literature on the board. 

"Professor, Professor Hank asked you to meet him in his class." You turn around to see Rogue standing on the entry door. 

"Okay, thank you, Rogue. The class ends for today then. Make sure you do the assignment that I give you for today and I want it to be submitted next week. John, please do your assignment. I will wait for your resume tonight." Students start to pack up their belongings as you tidying up your desk. Then you walk to Hank's classroom to meet him.

A very chaotic sound can be heard in his class. You also hear Logan screaming. Your brows furrowed as you opened the classroom door. Suddenly you see a beaker with some weird color liquid in it flying and hitting your face. 

The classroom went quiet as sizzle can be heard. You stare at the people in the classroom blankly as your hand slowly touches your face. You can feel your skin sticky with both the weird liquid and blood. Eyes darted to Logan, Hank, and the students making sure no one else hurt as you feel pain on your face start to numb out due to your healing factor. 

"Shit." Logan quickly went to you as he held your face to make sure you heal properly. Ignoring the residue of the weird liquid that is still on your skin. You stare at him before your eyes start to become glossy. You rapidly blink your eyes while Logan pulls you into a hug. Trying to calm you down by swaying both of your body softly. Muffled sobs can be heard as he strokes your back.

"Hey, it's okay Bub. I got you. I'm here." Logan tries to pull you impossibly closer than he already did. He quickly looks behind him, telling Hank that he will be right back. Hank just gives him a quick nod before he starts to instruct the students to tidy up the mess they created. 

Logan quickly picks you up with bridal style and starts walking back to your shared room with you still crying in his arms. Your hands held to his neck as you shoved your face to his neck. Try to find comfort in his musky, pine, and mixed with tobacco scent.

Logan then proceeds to put you on your shared bed softly as soon as you both are inside the bedroom. He quickly picks his shirt and your shorts for you to change as he knows you always find comfort in his shirt. He went into the bathroom to grab your makeup wipes before he came back to you who was still sobbing with hands covering your face.

"Look up, pretty girl." He carefully pulls your hands and holds your chin. Frowning a bit when he saw your mascara ran down on your cheeks and red nose. He carefully wiped your makeup away and his frown deepened as he saw your eyebags. He leans down to kiss your forehead and your sobs get harder.

“Take a deep breath darling. I’m not going anywhere.” Logan starts to cup your face as he starts to lead you on taking deep breaths with him. You follow him soon after and a thin smile creeps up his face.

“Atta girl.” his calloused hand softly stroking your head as your sobs start to calm down. Your husband then continues to clean your face from makeup. You slowly lift one of your hands to hold his wrist that is still busy cleaning up your face. Logan then leans in to give you a quick peck on each of your eyes, nose, and lastly your lips before he pulls away. His hands carefully took off the necklace that he gave for you before carefully storing it back in the box. You slowly peel off your jacket and jeans as he walks back to you.

“Hands up, baby.” He instructed you as he took a seat beside you and he pulled your turtleneck up. You obeyed him by putting your hands up in the air. Allowing him to pull your turtleneck. He then starts to stroke your almost naked back, making you feel his warm palms to let you know that he is with you. 

“I’m gonna take your bra off okay?” he softly asked while his palms were still rubbing your back. You give an affirmative nod and his fingers skillfully take off your bra as he has already done so many times. You let your bra fall to the floor. Logan then pulls you to sit on his lap. Your hands immediately circling around his neck. He then pulls you into another hug while giving your shoulders a lot of soft kisses. It's a different kind of kisses. Nothing sensual, just comfort and love. And you hug him tighter. Letting his stubble tickle your skin.

Logan then pulls away and gives you his shirt and your shorts. You carefully take it from his hands. He stares at you full of love and adoration before he softly pushes you from his lap and walks to the bathroom to clean himself. You quickly put the clothes on and lay down on bed. Pull your blanket to cover your body and wait for your lover. Eyes blankly staring at the wedding band on your finger while your thumb carefully rotates it.

Suddenly a warmth starts engulfing you from the back. For the first time on that day you genuinely let out a soft smile. You quickly rotate your body so you can face your husband. 

"What's on your mind darling?" His voice is rough but there's softness and care behind it. His hand pushes your hair away from your face. You smile again and pull him into a kiss. 

"It's nothing. Just been tired from all of the work I have to do these past few days…" you answered in a low voice. Logan let out a low growl as he looked at you with sympathy.

"Let's take a few days off then. Let's go somewhere quiet. Just the two of us." Logan suggested while rubbing your sides before letting his hand stay on your hips. You stare at his face. Remembering every detail you can catch with your eyes. 

"Okay. Thank you, Lo." Logan smiles as he rolls to lay on his back. Pulling you with him to sleep.

"Anything for you princess." His words and his touch is the last thing you remember before you drift off to sleep

[golden-cherry]

deal - cl16 (34/?)

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Series Summary: Your whole life has gone to shit. Your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the Monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it’s his apartment.

Chapter Summary: The boat that's actually a yacht - and it's just the two of you.

Warnings: fluff, minimal angst, Google translated French, no knowledge of boats

Word Count: 3.9k

series masterlist

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A/N: we're back bitches!!! love you. feedback is appreciated!

"What do we need?" you ask, taking a sip of your coffee. "Apart from Kika's spontaneous photos, I've only taken pictures of inanimate objects so far. And the one of you."

Charles shrugs his shoulders. "When Joris and I take photos together, we'll pack a bag of different clothes." When you raise an eyebrow in confusion, Charles purses his lips. "We always take several photos, for several posts. If we don't have time to take new pictures, we always have some in stock that we can use without them looking like old pictures."

"Okay." You put your mug down on the work surface in front of you. "Anything else?"

Your roommate grins. "Your camera."

"Haha." You toss it off with a kitchen towel. "I mean, do you need anything else in the way of props or anything?"

He shakes his head. "Actually, no. Everything you could possibly need for a photo shoot is already on the boat." He nods towards the hallway. "You just need long clothes in case it gets colder later."

You nod. "All right. Then you pack a bag with the things you need and I'll pack one with clothes I can wear if it gets cold later." You walk around the kitchen island towards the hallway. 

"And don't forget your camera." You can even hear the smirk, which is why you give him the middle finger without turning around. 

As you stand in your room, you don't really know what to pack. 

Although it's supposed to be twenty degrees outside - which sounds totally surreal for a day before Christmas - your weather app tells you that it's going to be almost three degrees at night. 

"How long are we staying on the boat?" you shout loudly so that Charles can hear you. You throw a large bag on the bed. 

"No idea," says Charles calmly. When you turn around, he's standing in the doorway. "You and I can leave after the pictures. Or stay there all day. Or the night." He shrugs his shoulders. "There's no time when the boat has to be back in port."

You sigh. "I'm afraid that doesn't help me much." You point to the bag on the bed. "I can't pack my entire closet, Charles. Tell me what to pack." You look at him pleadingly. 

"All right." He enters your bedroom and looks around before reaching for some clothes lying on the floor. "Here, the sweatpants are good. If you want to lie out on the sun bed in the evening, you'll need these." He tosses them to you. You catch them and fold them up to stow them neatly in your bag. "Do you have comfy socks or something?" 

"Ehm, yeah," you say, pulling some out of the pile of clothes Kika left there and tucking them into the side pocket of the bag.

Charles kneels down on the floor and sifts through the pile at your feet. "You'll definitely need a thick sweater. It's going to be pretty windy when we're out at sea." He rummages around in your clothes until he fishes out a black sweater and holds it out to you. "Tada."

The first thing you notice about the sweater is that it's not yours. The black hoodie is too big to be yours. The second thing you notice about it is that it's the sweater Charles gave you the night you went to your favorite place. 

The night Charles showed you his talent on the piano. The night you almost kissed. It feels like it was a lifetime ago. 

You can't tell Charles that you don't want to wear the sweater, even though it's incredibly comfortable. It certainly still smells like Charles, although perhaps not as strongly - after all, he hasn't worn it for days. You don't want to be wrapped up in his scent and be at risk of getting weak. The distance that needs to exist between you is the right thing to do. 

Charles looks at you questioningly from the floor and you realize you've already hesitated too long.

"That - that's not my sweater," you simply say. 

Your friend examines the sweater in his hand. "Really?" he asks, confused, smelling the collar. "But it smells like you."

You shake your head. "That's yours. You - uh - you lent it to me when we went to petits mondes," you explain as he folds the fabric and puts it to one side. 

"Oh. Right." He looks at the sweater before his gaze lands on you again. "You can keep it if you want."

You wave it off. "It's all right. Thanks for letting me borrow it. But it's yours after all, so..." You step nervously from one foot to the other. 

Charles watches you for a moment and then turns away. "All right, then. How about this one then?" He pulls another sweater out of the pile of laundry. This time it's actually yours. It's white, with red stripes on it and the collar reaches up to your chin. You definitely won't catch a cold in this. 

"It's good," you reply with a smile and catch it as he throws it to you. You fold it before putting it in your pocket as well. "What about your clothes? Do you want them in the bag too?" you ask him, hoping that he will take his clothes separately and not infect your clothes with his smell. 

Charles gets up from the floor. "I'll pack my own bag. You still have to pack your camera," he smiles, patting non-existent dust off his pants. "About the trip to the port..." he begins, rubbing the back of his neck. 

You grab your camera bag and stow it next to your clothes in your bag. Hopefully the spare battery is charged. "Hmm?"

"I suggest we take your car and I'll drop you off. Then you won't have to walk far to get to the boat," he explains. "I'll park your car in a side street and then join you. Then we won't be seen together."

You look at him, confused. "Can people just get on your boat like that? Aren't you afraid that some crazy fans will suddenly come out of - I don't know - your cabin?"

Charles has to smile. "Someone will be waiting for you there. They'll let you on the boat."

Embarrassed, you curl your lips into a thin line. Of course there's someone at the docks to make sure no one sneaks onto strangers' boats. "Okay."

You stand opposite each other, undecided, until Charles takes the first step. "I'll just pack my bag and then we can go." Smiling, he disappears from your bedroom. 

While Charles stuffs everything he can find into a bag, you gather some snacks in the kitchen to take with you on the boat. Charles has hinted that there would be a cook on site, but you might not be there for too long, so a proper meal wouldn't be worth it. 

As you prepare some sandwiches and put them in a bag, Charles appears behind you. "Are you ready?" he asks, leaning on the kitchen island. 

"Yep," you reply and place a few small bottles of water next to the sandwiches. When you look at Charles, he grins. "What is it?"

"Nothing." His grin almost reaches his ears. "There's water on the boat too, you know."

You roll your eyes. "I've never been on a boat before." 

Charles raises his eyebrows briefly before shrugging his shoulders. "It's not as special as you make it out to be."

You squint your eyes a little. "Only rich people say that."

He tilts his head. "Do you want to go on the boat or not?"

"Like I said," you start the sentence and grab the snacks, "only if I can steer it once."

Charles reaches for the keys to your Renault. "Don't you dare crash it," he warns you as you walk towards the elevator. He presses the button and a short time later the doors open. "That boat was expensive."

"Don't worry," you try to reassure him. "I'll just hold the wheel firmly and steer straight ahead." You wink at him and step into the elevator. 

Charles has to smile and follows you. "I think I'll only let you take the wheel on the open sea. There's much less risk of you ramming other boats."

"You have a lot of faith in me," you say with mock hurt and put your hand on your chest. 

"I do," he says seriously. "I'd trust you with my life."

-

You walk uncertainly around the various walkways. 

Before you got out of the car, Charles said there would be a man standing in front of his boat to help you find it. You would also have to say a password so that you would be granted access to Charles' boat. 

"For security," he explained. "We don't want everyone to get on the boat."

With your two bags on your shoulders, you walk past a few boats that certainly cost more than you'll ever earn. But nowhere is there a man to signal that you are in the right place. 

There are a few people at the harbor, but no one pays you any attention. They are chatting with friends, frolicking on boats and enjoying the warmth of the sun one last time before the year is over and winter finally sets in. You walk past them with your head down. 

Cautiously and indecisively, you walk on and the boats become yachts on which great parties are sure to take place in summer. They are big and nice and you wonder whether you should google one of the types to find out what price range the yachts of the rich and famous are in. 

You are torn from your thoughts by a man. "Madame? Vous cherchez quelque chose?" are you looking for something? 

Somewhat taken by surprise, you stop. You are standing in front of a large, white yacht. With its two floors, it towers above its neighbors by quite a bit. 

"Uhm," you look at the man uncertainly. "Je cherche le bateau d'un ami," you explain. I'm looking for my friends boat. 

The man raises an eyebrow as if he's wondering what you're doing here. Your uncertainty and searching eyes probably made you stand out immediately. You don't fit in here, that's for sure. 

When the man doesn't answer, you try the password Charles told you. "Chicken?" you ask uncertainly, but when the man smiles at you and reaches for your pockets, you exhale with relief. 

You've found the boat. Thank goodness. 

The man helps you onto the yacht and leads you past the sun bed into the interior, which is much bigger than you imagined, and places your bags on a couch. A couch. On a boat. How crazy. 

"Voulez-vous boire quelque chose?" would you like something to drink? He smiles kindly at you. 

"Non, merci," you thank him and look around. On the floor, next to a couch and a small bar, is the steering wheel, which you hope you'll be able to take the plunge on later. To the right, a staircase leads down to the lower floor, where there are not just one, but three bedrooms, a bathroom and a kitchen. 

Astonished, you run your fingers over one of the large beds. The fabric is soft and pleasant against your skin and you can almost imagine how comfortable the bed would be if you snuggled up there after a day in the sun. 

"I was worried for a moment that you wouldn't find my boat." 

As you turn around, Charles is standing at the foot of the stairs, watching you. Without further ado, you sit down on the bed behind you. "I was looking for a boat too. Not a castle on the water."

He has to grin. "The boat is still relatively small compared to the ones that dock here in the harbor in summer."

You raise an eyebrow. "Really?"

He takes a step towards you. "Really. I'm the outsider with my little boat. There's nothing under five stories." He bites the inside of his cheek. "How do you like my boat?"

You nod. "Your yacht is really nice." You grin at him and take a look at the bed you're on. "But why do you need so much space at sea?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "I usually spend the summer break here with my family. Not all of the time, of course, but when we go out on it, it's quite a few days. And I'll be damned if I'm going to share a bed with Arthur."

You try to suppress your grin, but unfortunately you don't succeed. "Why? Does he kick while he sleeps?"

"No," says Charles, leaning against the bed at a little distance from you. "But he used to steal the blanket in the past and then I had to freeze all night."

You raise an eyebrow. "Couldn't you have just fought for it?"

"Believe me when I tell you I tried several times," he rubs the back of his neck with his hand. "He practically wraps himself up like a burrito and when that happens, you've lost."

"Then I know who I'd never share a bed with," you joke, but Charles looks a little more serious.

"I hope so." Before the mood can turn negative, he smiles at you. "Are you ready? Shall we go out?"

You look at him excitedly. "Oh yes." You jump off the bed and smooth out the creases you've left in the comforter. "How long will it take us to get outside?"

"Not long at all. I think twenty minutes and that's it," he explains, turning to head up the stairs.

When you reach the top, Charles gets behind the wheel. You look at him, confused. "Are you driving the yacht?"

"Yep."

"All the time?"

"Yep." He grins at you. "Except for the time you're at the wheel, of course."

You want to jump up and down with excitement. "And where's the man who let me on the boat?"

Charles presses a few buttons and the display in front of him comes to life. "Thomas? He's left the boat."

"Are we all alone?" you ask uncertainly and sit down on the couch. "I thought you still had a chef on board?"

He shrugs his shoulders. "You brought some snacks with you. Thomas also packed some food in the fridge in case you and I want to cook something later."

You purse your lips. You would spend the whole day on the water with Charles. Alone. And you would take pictures of him, which he would post on his official Instagram profile. And you would cook in the small kitchen in the basement. The distance you want to maintain between you seems to be shrinking somehow. 

"You're not going out on the boat with me to kill me and get rid of me discreetly, are you?" you ask him jokingly. 

"Believe me. If I wanted to kill you, I could have done it on our first day," he grins and puts his hands on the steering wheel. "Are you ready?" Charles asks, glancing over his shoulder at you. His green eyes sparkle in the sunlight and small dimples form in his cheeks as he looks at you. 

Gorgeous. 

You smile back. "I'm ready, captain."

He winks at you. "Let's go then."

Concentrating, Charles steers his yacht out of the harbor between the other boats. The rocking is surprisingly pleasant and not as bad as you expected, so you lie down on the couch and wait until you arrive at your destination. Charles remains silent for a while, so you don't say anything either, worried about disturbing his concentration, but while he steers the boat, you start working on your camera settings and think about which one would be best for your shoot. 

After twenty minutes, the yacht comes to a halt and Charles turns to you. "Alright."

Excitedly, you get up from the couch and follow him outside to the sun bed you had your eye on when you boarded. As you look around, you are amazed. You can still see the land in the distance, but you are so far out that it almost merges with the horizon. Although there is a sea breeze blowing around you, the sun is so bright that you don't freeze. It's reflected on the clear water and you want to put on a bikini and jump in. 

Charles seems to notice your gaze. "Next summer, I'll take you with me and then you can swim and sunbathe here until you get sunburnt."

You smile at him. "I'll gladly take you up on that offer." You glance back inside. "Do you need to get changed or are we going to start straight away?"

Charles snaps his fingers once before pulling his shirt over his head and disappearing towards the interior. You try not to stare after him and you ignore how wide his back is and how his muscles move under his skin as he puts his shirt down on the couch. He opens his bag and pulls out a white shirt. When he turns back to you, you turn away quickly, hoping he hasn't noticed you watching him. 

"Ready when you are."

Charles changes clothes more often than you can imagine. He has different outfits ready for every pose and every location on his yacht, which he slips into in order to take the best possible picture. In between, you take a sandwich break on the sun bed and enjoy the warm sun on your skin before getting back to work. 

It doesnt take long for you to figure that Charles is the perfect man for the job. He's so easy to work with, even though he jokes most of the time and you surely have more photos of him looking funny than serious. But you enjoy it the way it is. Happy, free, without a care in the world.

When you have finished and Charles is happy with the photos you took, he suggests going home in the evening. You nod and sit down on the couch. 

When he looks at you expectantly, you raise an eyebrow in confusion. "What is it?"

"I thought you wanted to steer the boat." In his hand, he holds a bandana that he ties around his head to control his hair, which is messy from the constant changing of clothes.

You widen your eyes. "I thought you were messing with me."

He furrows his eyebrows. "Why would I do that? There's nothing and no one here that you can put at risk. And you won't be steering for long." He leans against the seat in front of the wheel. "If you want, the seat is yours."

Excited, you get up from the couch and get behind the wheel. Charles explains everything to you and you try to concentrate on his words as best you can, but he is so close to you that his scent of perfume, a little sweat and him envelops you. 

With his help, the boat sets off and you jump up and down on the seat with joy. Your hair is blowing around your head and it's so loud that you almost scream. "Oh my God! How fucking awesome is that?" You don't even notice that you've let go of the steering wheel.

"Hands on the wheel, you crazy woman!" laughs Charles, holding the wheel tightly. As you look at him, you see a spark of the Charles you know. The Charles that existed before yesterday. 

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" you apologize and put your hands back on the wheel. "Oh my God! Can you take a picture of me?" 

Charles takes two steps back and pulls his cell phone out of his pocket. "Smile, please."

You grin so wide it almost hurts, but you can't stop. It seems so unbelievable that you are on a yacht and even get to steer it. 

You smile at Charles, tears stinging your eyes. A few days ago, you were almost homeless, all alone and on your own. There aren't enough words in the world to describe how grateful you are for the Monegasque who took you in. Who took you into his heart without hesitation. Who was there for you without batting an eyelid.

Fuck, you love him. And nothing in the world will ever change that.

"Thank you."

He lowers his cell phone. "For what?"

A tear escapes your eye and rolls down your cheek. "For everything." 

Charles takes a step towards you and you would love to take him in your arms and never let him go again. But he stops an arm's length away from you and smiles at you. "I would do anything for you."

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks, so you avert your gaze and look ahead again. Monaco is getting closer, but you would prefer to stay here. On the yacht and on the sea. You don't want to go back to reality yet - not if you can be here with Charles. The way it was before.

"I don't want to go back yet," he voices your thoughts and puts a hand on the wheel. When you look at him, he smiles a little brokenly. "I don't want to go back yet because I'm afraid that things won't be the same between you and me. That I'll lose you. And I don't want that." 

His words hit you so hard that you can't breathe. You would love to take him in your arms and kiss him and reassure him that you belong to him like the sand belongs to the sea, but that's not the way Charles means it. 

But you don't care how Charles means it. You belong to him - no matter which way.

"Then let's not go back," you suggest. "We - we can stay here and we won't go back until tomorrow."

Charles' smile looks forced. "And then?"

"Then we'll go home." You bite the inside of your cheek and purse your lips. "To our home."

Charles exhales in relief, as if the elephant that had been standing on his chest had finally gotten off of him. As if he had been underwater for too long and could now take his first breath. He would love to stay here forever, with you, far away from the reality of all the pressure he is under. 

As you smile at him, the pressure seems to fall off him. As if he has finally reached his destination, wherever that may be. Like he's home. 

Fuck, he'd do anything for you if you just asked him to.

He motions for you to let him into the seat, and as you swap places, he brings the yacht to a halt. As the engine shuts down, he slides off the seat and turns to face you. 

"Have you ever gotten drunk on a boat before?"

[oneluckydumbass]

Well, hello and welcome to the madhouse. @sock-1574, your wish is my command, here's a quick _v2 for this short. I wrote it at 10pm and it's unedited, forgive me if you find mistakes. Also, f!reader.

In his sleep, Simon turned to wrap an arm around your waist to pull you against his body, a completely casual move that he had done so many times in the past. He just wanted to warm up a little in the chilly room, because despite the thick blanket you insisted on using, he could still use a little help. But his eyes opened when he realized you weren’t there next to him. It was odd. 

When he heard something break downstairs, he jumped out of bed, his instincts kicking in right away. It didn’t sound like a window breaking, more like a mug or a glass landing on the tiles. What were you even doing in the kitchen a little past two in the morning? He called out your name as he walked down the stairs several times, but there was no response. He heard a groan, then some soft sobbing, which made him believe something was wrong. 

By the time he entered the kitchen, you were sitting on the floor with your head between your knees, a hand gripping the back of your neck as you cried. “Baby, what’s wrong?” Nothing, you didn’t even look at him. “Hey, come on, tell me. What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” you mumbled through your tears. 

“What hurts?”

“My head.”

“Anything else?”

“I’m dizzy, I feel like I could faint any second. I wanted to drink from your favorite mug and I broke it, I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t give a damn about that bloody mug,” Simon said with a nervous sigh as he took your hand. “The hospital is ten minutes away, it’s faster if I take you there myself. Come on, let’s get you dressed.”

He helped you up, but after only a few steps, he felt your body becoming heavier as you lost consciousness. Without thinking, he picked you up and grabbed the car keys from the table by the front door. The hospital was close to their house, he would get there sooner than the ambulance would arrive. It was a miracle that no cop stopped him because he drove like some maniac. He was in a hurry since you were still unresponsive, and deep down he was expecting the worst.

What if you wouldn’t survive whatever this was?

Once he got there and a doctor noticed what state you were in, they quickly took you from him to run some tests on you while someone asked him questions. Questions he didn’t really know the answer to. You seemed fine when you had gone to sleep, all he knew was that you had this terrible headache in the middle of the night. 

They didn’t tell him anything apart from the info that they were doing some scans. He bought a coffee and sat in the waiting room, his mind in overdrive from the events of the past hour. And then that hour became two, and just when he was losing hope someone would finally tell him what the hell was happening, a doctor showed up and asked for your relative. 

“I’m her boyfriend, what’s happening to her?” he replied when they asked him who he was. 

“An aneurysm in her brain. Well, two, but only one ruptured. We will take her to the OR now and see what we can do,” the doctor explained. “It will take a long time, you might want to go home. We will call you once we know more.”

“I’d rather stay. And I’ll call her parents, I’m sure they would like to be here.” 

The doctor nodded then left to focus on your surgery. This left Simon alone in the waiting room again with his face buried in his hands as he tried to fight back the tears. He had to be strong. He couldn’t fall apart. He was supposed to tell your parents that you were in there because of a damn aneurysm. He knew those things were deadly, but you were still alive, fighting. 

After talking to your parents, he sent Price a message, telling him that there was no way he would leave your side for god knows how long. He was considering writing to Johnny too, but in the end he decided not to. The two of you were friends, he would be worried for sure. At least one of them had to stay sharp, especially if he happened to go on a mission before you got better. 

What he wasn’t expecting was Price showing up a bit over an hour after he had sent the message. The Captain greeted him quickly then pulled him into a hug. Simon had no idea how badly he needed that, how much he craved physical contact at this point. It grounded him, made him focus on the present, not on the possible worst outcomes. Because his mind had been full of what ifs, like what if you died, what would he tell your parents and friends? It would mean he failed to do the one thing he promised to do–to protect you from harm. 

“You’re spiraling, Simon,” Price said as they sat down. 

The lieutenant nodded. “It’s hard to do anything else in this place. She’s been in surgery for two hours now, I don’t know how it’s going, her parents aren’t here yet. What will I tell them?”

With a hand on the younger man’s shoulder, Price took a deep breath. “You wrote me it was an aneurysm. Those things can be hidden for decades. No one knew it was there, there’s no warning sign as far as I know, and let’s not forget that you brought her here in time. She’ll pull through, don’t worry,” he said. 

They sat there in silence for quite a while, but it was the sort of comforting silence that Simon truly needed now. And then, just when he was about to go and ask someone if they knew anything, the doctor showed up again. “Mr. Riley? She is out of surgery for now. She will need a lot of rest here in the hospital, and it will take some time to see if there is any kind of brain damage. She is okay now, but I need you to understand that a lot of patients with this problem don’t survive for long. We will do everything we can, and it is a good thing you brought her in so soon after the first symptoms. I am… cautiously optimistic.”

“Thank you, doctor,” he said with a relieved sigh. “Can I see her?”

“Yes, a nurse will soon be here to take you to her, but you can’t stay for long.”

Price patted him on the shoulder after the doctor left. “She’s okay. She’s gonna be fine,” he said with a supportive smile. 

Simon nodded. Yes, you were alive. And he would do whatever it took to help you recover. 

[mj0702]

@helen-with-an-a wanted it... you all have to suffer

You hardly keep something from Lucy. There were a few times you didn't tell her things. The time you broke her favorite mug. Then when you started dating Georgia. Oh – and the time you got mint jelly all over her first Olympic Jersey. So you keeping something from her felt incredibly wrong to you. You didn't LIKE to keep things from her. But you also were a person that need to prove to yourself that you can achieve things without the name Bronze or without Lucy. That's why you kept all this from her. You were living in Barcelona now – Barcelona was your home. It was where your Family was. Lucy. Keira. Ona. Alexia. Mapí. All them spaniards (and Jenni the lanky half-Mexican from the bad area from Spain) you love more than life and that you would give your life without a second thought. So keeping one of the biggest thing in your life from your sister was hard. And it got significant harder once the others caught on that something was going on with you. You talked to Georgia a lot. You finished school in summer and you knew you just had to ask Alexia and you immediately would have a job at Barca but you wanted more. Yes, you were good at analytics and tactics but you wanted to help on a different level. So your girlfriend suggested you would start to train to be a physio but true to Bronze fashion you wanted more. You wanted what Lucy did – you wanted to study and you wanted to understand the human body and the movements and the muscles and the tendons and... everything.

So you looked up some courses at Unis in England when Georgia suggested you should probably look in Barcelona. Barcelona had excellent Universities and you did found something that would go in the direction you wanted so you wrote an application and to your big surprise you got accepted. You hoped that it wasn't because of the name Bronze but on the other hand you didn't really care when you opened the letter. You immediately called Georgia who was at training but called back ASAP once she saw the 31 missed calls from you thinking something has happened.

“Hola Cari” you heard Alexia entering the meeting room where you were hiding most of the trainings theses days working on your paper for “school”

“Hola” you squeaked and slapped your laptop shut panicked

“Are you okay Cariño?” the blonde raised an eyebrow at your weird acting

“Sí... mi bueno... mucho bueno” you nodded fast your hand still on your laptop

“We taught you better than that” Alexia huffed slapping the back of your head lightly “... what are you doing in here anyway?”

“Nothing” you answered quickly pushing the laptop a little away so Alexia couldn't snatch it away

“You weren't watching porn were you?” the blonde asked seriously still a little carefully

“WHAT??” you looked at her bewildered “NO!!”

“I mean I would understand....” Alexia said carefully “... you and Georgia... long distance”

“Oh ew...” you scrunched up your nose “.. please stop talking about... what I do or don't do with my girlfriend”

“Then what are you doing?” the blonde pushed again trying to grab your laptop

“Hello?? Privacy??!!!” you exclaimed jumping up from your chair pulling the electronic device to your chest as you took a few steps back to get some distance between you and the catalan

“Please..” Alexia snorted chuckling “... you should know there's hardly any privacy around this dysfunctional familia... how often did you walk in on Ona and Lucy now?”

“Yeah well.. I want my privacy now... so can you just leave?” you whined before you mumbled “... seven times”

“Cari....” the blonde said softly “... I don't know what you're doing but it's nothing dangerous right?”

“No... it's just something I need to do by myself” you said seriously

“If you need help you know you can come to any of us right?” Alexia said firmly

“I know...” you nodded “... I promise I'll tell you soon okay.. I just... need to figure it out myself first”

“Okay... I trust you that there won't be Police on the side one day trying to take you away” the blonde said “... if your sister asks... do Maps a favor and say you did indeed watch porn”

With that Alexia left you alone and you looked shocked at the door that just fell shut

“Hey Bubs..” your sister greeted you as you entered the locker room

“Hey” you grumbled back

“Woah... what's wrong Bits?” Keira now perked up from the opposite side giving you a once over if you sported any new bruises or wounds

“Nothing” you grumbled proceeding to stuff your laptop and some papers in your personal Barcelona Bag

“Bubs... talk to me” Lucy said softly when she came over to sit next to your cubby – yes you had your own cubby gifted by the Barca captains themselves

“What's there to talk... not an INCH of privacy in this godforsaken place...” you grumble subtly fixing the rim of your shirt

“What?” your sister said dumb folded not catching on

“Bitsy speak up... your sister doesn't get it... as usual” Keira said rolling her eyes already “knowing” what happened

“I have needs okay... my girlfriend is thousand miles away...” you looked at Lucy faking to be upset “... ALL of you should have been at training... ALL... yes ALL... except for Mrs. Alexia “I can do whatever I want because I'm La Reina” Putellas... SHE doesn't have to train... she's sooooo good... newsflash... your one touch is lacking”

“Woah whoa whoa whoa...” Lucy held her hands up in a calming matter “WHAT are you talking about?”

“I have NEEDS Luce...” you huffed

“What do you need? Can I help somehow??” your sister asked confused and you heaved

“She was watching porn Lucy... or a video from G getting herself off” Keira now interrupted dryly

“Oh my god!!” Lucy exclaimed shocked.. and disgusted.. but mostly shocked

“HA!!!” you heard Mapí exclaimed victoriously

“María” you heard a second voice smirking when Ingrid slapped her girlfriend and shot her a death glare

“NEVER say anything like this again” Lucy coughed after she gagged loudly “You are my little sister... you die a virgin because you don't HAVE a sex life”

“Oh but I...” you started nonchalantly

“Bitsy” Keira interrupted you in a warning tone “No”

“But...” you whined

“Do you really want me to come over and we discuss that in private?” Keira challenge you with a raised eyebrow

“No no... I'm good.... thank you” you said quickly when you got a glimpse of the clock

“SHIT... I'm late” you quickly threw the rest of your stuff in the bag and sprinted towards the exit just to get stopped by Alexia

“Late for what?” the blonde catalan blocked the door

“Not your business” you said getting slightly angry trying to push past her

“You really think you can push me over?” Alexia looked down at you crossing her arms in front of her chest

“I know your weak spot...” you said dangerously calm “... don't make me hurt you Alexia... let me go”

You and Alexia got into a little stare off before the blonde took a step to the side letting you hastily fly through the door

“You letting her leave? Alexia!” Lucy exclaimed confused

“Something tells me the Cari has some things to figure out” the catalan said softly

“Ehrm.. Amor?” Ona now speaks up being a little shady

“Sí?” Lucy looked at her girlfriend after she processed what Alexia said

“Please tell me you have the Car keys” Ona asked already knowing the answer

“No... I gave them to you...” your sister shook her head bewildered

“Yeah... about that...” her girlfriend scratched the back of the neck “... I think Bebita took them”

“WHAT???” Lucy yelled shocked starting to pull her clothes from her bag again looking for her car key

“No no no no no no” your sister whined after she reached the bottom of her bag “Noooooohooooo”

“She got you again Bronze?” Keira smirked evilly

“Shut it Walsh” Lucy grumbled as she fell down on the bench “... you can give us a lift?”

“Sure thing” Keira laughed “... but you better move your ass... you know I'll leave without you and just drive your girlfriend home.... and when we're at yours we pass the time by painting our nails and talk about your performance... the not on the pitch performance”

“You are an evil EVIL woman Walsh” your sister grumbled and stuffed her trainings stuff back into her bag

“Sorry for being late... got held up at... work” you panted entering the classroom now everyone looking at you

“I'll let it slide this time but only because you are one of the Best in this course” your Teacher Mrs. Hernandez looked at you strictly and then nodded her head towards your place and you quickly scrambled to sit down and pull out your papers and sat up your laptop “... and you can start with explaining your paper you better have finished since last lesson”

“Yeah.... about that... my... dog ate it” you scratched the back of your neck embarrassed

“Your... dog ate it??” the dark haired woman asked confused raising an eyebrow

Truth was... Narla didn't ate it. You worked on that paper and you finished it. In Munich. At your girlfriends apartment. On your second laptop. That was still in Munich.

“Yeah....” you tried to grin innocent resulting in a pained grimace

“How about we try the truth?” the woman asked fixing you with a glare

“Damn... you're just like Ale...” you mumbled but then cleared your throat “... I forgot it in Munich and my dearest is to... untechnical to get through me safety settings sooooo...”

“So you have time to go on holiday to Germany instead of studying?” Mrs. Hernandez asked

“No no no... I do study” you said quickly “... my girlfriend lives in Munich and no one except for her know that I'm doing this so whenever I know my familia is home I flee to Munich so I can have my peace and quiet and know one will see what I'm doing because... I don't want them to get involved before I passed this class”

“Now that's a reason I can get behind” the dark haired woman nodded understanding before she fixed you with a glare once again “... I want BOTH papers before next lesson starts on my desk in printed form”

“Sí... gracias” you nodded quickly already planning your next trip to Germany

“Aitana…” you said quietly

“Sí?” the small catalan asked confused

“I need your help….” you whispered looking around so no one would hear you “… I can offer you a deal”

“Aha” Aitana took a step back

“You teach me catalan…. I teach you English” you mumbled quickly

“I don’t need helping in English” the catalan looked confused

“You say things like “you work or no work”…. “ you deadpanned

“Yes… she was at every game” Aitana looked even more confused

“Firstly it’s rude and secondly it’s not English” you rolled your eyes “… sooooo… we have a deal?”

“Why you don’t need helping from Alexia?” the small player asked

“She’ll ask questions that I can’t answer right now….” you mumbled “… and you definitely need help with English”

“Okay…” Aitana shrugged her shoulders and that was the start of the most chaotic private lessons existing to this day.

“Bitsy... we need to talk” Keira said pulling you away after training a week later

“What? Why? I did nothing?” you said quickly a little scared

“Sit” the englishwoman gestured to one of the seats in the stands and you promptly sit down “So... what's going on?”

“Huh? Nothing?” you asked confused

“Bitsy... you never lied to me... okay once but that was technically okay since it was a surprise party” Keira said firmly “... so I'll humor you and ask again... what's going on?”

“Nothing I swear” you held your hands up in a defending manner

“For weeks now you're different... your mind is somewhere else... you hardly participate in pranks with them nutcases anymore... you fly an AWEFUL lot out to Munich... you spend hardly any time with Lucy, Ona, Alexia or me for the matter... so... what's going on.. you and G okay?” your “Mom” asked her voice showing a little concern

“Oh... OH...” you exclaimed “... yeah... all good”

“And???” Keira looked at you with that “go on”-look

“And nothing... all good” you smiled standing up for Keira to pull you right back down

“Y/n” she warned you and you know you are basically fucked

“I promise all is good... but..” you started with a little wince “... I can't talk about it... not right now... I promise everything is okay and I will tell you eventually just not... now”

“Okay...” the blonde said after she studied your face for a minute “... you know I trust you Bitsy and when you say you're okay I believe you... BUT.. if you got trouble I want you to come to me okay...”

“I promise Kei.. that's just something I have to do on my own... FOR me” you said seriously and Keira nodded slowly

“Okay... just promise me you didn't get pregnant or married... Lucy would get a stroke” Keira smiled slightly

“PREGNANT????” you screeched causing several heads to whip in your direction making Keira burst out laughing

“BUBS???!!!” Lucy yelled over shocked

“NO!!!! NO!!!!” you shook your head panicked as your sister started to come over to you and Keira

“You know she's gonna make you do a test right?” Keira wheezed out when she saw Lucys face

“I'm not pregnant” you squeak out your sister now coming up resting against the railing her eyebrows raised

“Then you won't have anything against taking a test right?” Lucy looked at you

“Told you” Keira bursted out laughing again

“You can take a test” you grumbled sinking lower in that uncomfortable plastic chair

“I'm pretty confident I'm not the one who just yelled Pregnant over the whole pitch...” your sister said in a matter of fact voice “... Alexia is already on her way to get one”

“I'm NOT taking a pregnancy test” you glared at Lucy

“So... you have something to hide then” Lucy poked your ego

“No... but I'm not supporting your stupidness” you shot back while Keira nearly fell of the chair clutching her torso laughing

“You are in a very.... difficult age Bubs....” your sister started slowly “... your hormones...”

“GOOOOOD” you groaned “... please stop.... Keira.... make her stop”

“Oh no... this is very entertaining” the blonde laughed at the uncomfortable look on Lucys and the disgusted look on your face

“You just take the test Bubs and we're good” Lucy said shrugging her shoulders not really wanting to have this conversation

“Luce... I'm NOT pregnant...” you said seriously “... G is good but not THAT good”

“Oh gooooood...” now your sister groaned while Keira interrupted into a new round of laughter

“Hey Alexia” you strolled up to the Barca capitan after a gym session several weeks later

“Yes Cari?” Alexia breath slightly labored as she wiped her face with a towel

“What are you doing next Thursday??” you asked slightly nervous

“Nothing I think... I have to check my planner but I don't think I have anything planned why?” the blonde catalan said after she thought about it for a second

“Could you and Olga maybe... be there...” you asked quietly pulling out a scrunched up piece of paper with an address and a time scribbled on it

“Ehrm... okay... can I ask why?” Alexia looked confused as she took the paper from you

“Just.... it's something important to me... so... please?” you shuffled nervously from left to right

“Okay... okay we'll be there” the blonde smiled softly feeling the nervous energy radiating from you “Thank you... casual chic... or just chic.... whatever you feel like” you mumbled quickly before you basically run from the gym

“Oh Cari.... what have you done now?” Alexia huffed lightly as she watches you leave and started to collect her things

“Luce??” you yelled as soon as you opened the door “Ona?”

“Living room” you heard your sister yelling back

“OKAY” you yelled back kicking your shoes down the hallway

“Why do you two always have to yell?” Ona groaned

“Love language” Lucy shrugged and grinned “…. When she yells I know she’s okay”

“Sooooo….” you said a little carefully

“Sooooo?” your sister asked sitting on the couch Onas head in her lap

“You free next Thursday?” you shuffled around nervously

“Think so…. Why?” Lucy looked at you expectantly

“Just… be there at 7” you said quickly and threw another scrunched up piece of paper at them and quickly made your exit

“Bubs” your sister yelled after you while Ona unfolded the piece of paper that hit her on the forehead

“What is it?” Lucy looked down on her girlfriend

“It’s an address” the catalan said confused

“I swear if she caused trouble and that’s a court date…” your sister grumbled

“It’s the Universities address” Ona said as she looked up from her phone as she googled the address

“University?” Lucy asked bewildered

“Yes…” the blonde showed her girlfriend the screen

“What the… BUBS??!!!” your sister yelled

“She’s not home!!!!” you yelled back from your room

“Stop being a Twat and get your ass in here” Lucy groaned

“No….” you whined

“Y/n Tough Bronze” your sister hollered

“Lucy… let her be…” Ona said softly “… it obviously took a lot for her to ask us to be there – so don’t squeeze informations out of her”

“I just want to know what’s going on….” Lucy defended herself

“Lucia…” the catalan warned

“Yeah okay…” your sister huffed

“Hey Kei….” you said appearing out of nowhere next to the blonde English woman

“Jesus Christ” Keira exclaimed shocked clutching her chest “DON’T do that”

“What?” you looked confused

“Don’t appear out of thin air like this” the blonde exclaimed

“I literally walked down the sideline… not my fault you don’t pay attention to your surroundings” you shrugged

“I was talking to Vicky” Keira throws her arms in the air

“Not my fault she’s not paying attention to your surroundings” you waved off

“What do you want pest?” the blonde rolled her eyes

“Next Thursday… 7PM… be there” you fished another paper out of your pocket just as scrunched up as the ones you handed out before

“And why would I want to be there?” Keira ask confused

“Just… please?” you said shyly

“Okay” the blonde huffed knowing by your reaction that it was important to you

“Thanks Kei” you smiled

“Always Bitsy” Keira smiled back softly

“You ready Babe?” Georgia asked fixing the tie around her neck

“I can’t do this…” you said panicked pulling on your robe

“Stop” your girlfriend said firmly grabbing your shaking hands

“I can’t G… I just can’t… everyone will be there…” your breathing labored

“Breath….” Georgia said calmly

“You don’t understand” you started again just to get interrupted

“… you are nervous… I do understand that… but you worked so hard… you sacrificed so much…” your girlfriend talked lowly “… you showed that even off the pitch you come out on top… you are the best of the class… I am so proud of you and everyone else will be too”

“But what if they’re mad I kept this from them…” a new wave of anxiety hits you “… Lucy gonna be so mad”

“Baby…” Georgias voice strict “… no one is gonna be mad… not Keira… nor Ona… and definitely not Lucy… you worked your ass off and you deserve it more than anyone”

“I need to hold a SPEECH!!!! A SPEECH G!!!” you squeak

“I know…” your girlfriend smiled softly “… and you’ll absolutely smash it”

“IN CATALAN G!!!” you screeched

“And you learned to speak catalan from the best…” Georgia smiled

“I…. guess….” you calmed down slightly

“See… you are prepared… and pretty…. So so pretty” your girlfriend smiled pressing a soft kiss to your lips

“I don’t…” you started

“No… we will go there… you get your diploma and then we leave… we getting a pizza at the shop down the road and then we celebrate your bachelor degree” Georgia said keeping her voice soft

“Pizza sounds good” you mumbled

“See… we just quickly go and pick up that piece of paper and get pizza” your girlfriend shrugged smiling and gently pushed you towards the door

“Alexia …” Lucy said surprised “… what are you doing here? What is this? You know what this is?”

“Cariño invited Olga and me…” Alexia looked at her teammate “… and no… no idea”

“Kei… do you have…” your sister turned around having spotted her ex

“… no idea” Keira interrupted Lucy rolling her eyes

“Then what are we doing here?” Lucy asked bewildered

“You’re here to support a person that’s important to you and you are important to her…” Georgia said appearing next to Keira “… she’s fucking nervous as it is so all of you pull it together and support her”

“Where did you come from?” your sister looked at Georgia pure confusion on her face

“From the champagne stand over there” your girlfriend pointed to a little bar with her glass “… it’s free and I thought… Eeh.. why not”

“Spill Stanway” Lucy growled getting upset

“Not in a million years…” Georgia snorted “… you’ll have to wait and see… I don’t know what your plans are but I’m going to me place now”

“I can’t believe she ignored me…” your sister started as Keira started to snort

“… you growling at her like a toothless puppy?” Keira asked “She knows you’re all bark no bite by now Luce”

“I am intimidating!!” Lucy exclaimed

“Yes Amor… so intimidating” Ona smirked and started to follow Georgia

“I AM!!” your sister shouted after the group

“I am” Lucy mumbled to herself now trotting after the others finding her place

“I can’t believe…” Lucy said shocked looking up to the stage where you were currently holding your speech in catalan

“…. She pulled that off?” Georgia helped out

“That she really …. she got a bachelors degree now…” your sister said in disbelieve

“She worked her ass off for it…” your girlfriend hummed “… the amount of times I found her at the kitchen table in the morning fast asleep on her papers… she really worked for it Luce”

“I… we… we all would’ve helped…” Lucy whispered given up already trying to understand what you were saying due to it being catalan “… why didn’t she say anything?”

“She was scared she could fail and that you’d be disappointed in her…” Georgia said remembering how often she herself tried to get you to talk to Lucy “… she said if she did fail no one but me would be disappointed”

“What a truck load of bullshit” Lucy grumbled

“I know… it still doesn’t change the fact that she wants to meet your goals Lucy… you are so fucking important to her…” your girlfriend said lowly “… the thought she could fuck up nearly broke her”

“Can you two shut up… I’m listening to the Cariño speech” Alexia sneered from two seats down

“I don’t understand anything anyway “ Lucy shot back

“Maybe if you’d listen you would’ve noticed her saying that she couldn’t have done it without the upbringing you provided her with because you taught her to fight no matter the outcome and that everything she achieved was because of you being her role model” Alexia said her voice low

“She did?” your sister asked perplex

“Yes….” Ona said tears in her eyes “… yes she did”

“But I…” Lucy looked around for help

“You showed her the world Lucy… from the moment I met you two it was clear that you were HER world… you just never realized how much…” Keira said softly “… none of us could ever reach the podium she holds you on… you two always were more than just sisters… you two always had something special”

“I…” your sister was at loss for words as you ended your speech and received your diploma smiling widely

“You are her everything Luce…” Georgia smiled clapping her friends back “… just like she is yours”

“Sooooo…” you slandered up to your girlfriend “… about that pizza….”

“Yeah I think we can kiss that idea goodbye…” your girlfriend smirked nodding behind you

“So proud of you” you recognized the voice of your sister as she pulled you into a bone crushing hug “so fucking proud”

“Lucy…” you groaned your voice strangled “… need air”

“Lucy” Keira warned “… no killing tonight”

“I’m just proud!! Can’t I be a proud sister for once?” Lucy asked flabbergasted still holding onto you tightly

“Air” you squeak out hitting your sister wherever you could reach her

“Amor…” Ona said softly prying Lucys arms away from around you “… others want to be proud too”

“I have first proud right!!!” your sister said

“Yes you do and you already showed her how proud you are” the small catalan said softly while you where holding onto your girlfriend coughing hard

“But not enough” Lucy said confused

“Plenty enough” you wheezed out as Georgia patted your back softly

“We need to celebrate” your sister suddenly exclaimed

“I already…” you started but get fixed by a glare from Keira, Alexia and Ona “… haven’t planned anything” you said quickly

“Mhm…. Thought so Bits…” Keira said eyebrow raised “… you know the tradition”

“Keiraaaaaa… come ooooon” you whined immediately knowing what she implemented

“Oh no… it’s tradition” the blonde smirked

“What?” Alexia asked confused

“Every time Bitsy came home with good grades at the end of a school year we would celebrate it and she was given the honor to pin it on the fridge” Keira smiled

“I’m not in middle school anymore” you continue to whine

“Oh I don’t care… university is school… you have good grades… tradition it is” the blonde English woman shrugged her shoulders and you knew you lost the battle – and the war.

“Ugh… so unfair” you huffed

“I’ll let you have a second cheat day this week Cari… this achievement is reason enough to eat whatever you want” Alexia pulled you into a side hug

“So generous” you grumbled “… you do realize I can eat whatever I want whenever I want”

“Oh I know Cariño…” the catalan smiled and you saw you were close to the magical line that would make her snap “… I also know you wouldn’t dare to do that because you knew I would let you run laps until your lung comes out”

“A second cheat day sounds amazing” you squeaked

“Thought so” Alexia smirked pinching your cheek

“Come on Bebita…. Let’s go home” Ona smiled grabbing your hand softly

“But G comes too…” you said as you let Ona pull you along

“Of course…” the catalan smiled and that’s how your bachelor’s degree ended up pinned to Lucys and Onas fridge making Lucy smile proudly every time she saw it.

Y/n Tough Bronze – Bachelor in Physical Activity and Sport Sciences

[chvoswxtch]

Court baby i've waiting for this moment! I have this idea for a fic living rent free in my head. Its Frank x fem!reader. They were in a very cozy and confy moment when the snap happened and reader was blipped! You could write how Frank deald with those five years and with reader coming back. With a lot of angst moments and flufly and maybe spicy after she comes back. I would love if you accept this request! Thank you, I love you ❤️

i'm not gonna lie to you, the blip is my least favorite marvel storyline, but I love you so I put myself and frank through it just for you 🖤

I would say sorry that i'm about to emotionally wreck you but in my defense, you did ask for this so...enjoy or don't

warning: swearing, mentions of blood, violence, guns, & alcohol, heavy angst, very brief allusion to suicide (blink and you miss it) word count: 4.1k

the blip.

A split second. That’s how quickly Frank lost you. He turned his back for a second to refill his mug of coffee, and when he turned back around, you had vanished seemingly into thin air. At first he thought maybe you had gone back into the bedroom to grab a sweater or something. It had been a bit chilly in the kitchen, and you were always cold. But then a few seconds turned into a few minutes, and Frank didn’t hear any shuffling or soft footsteps. He didn’t hear anything at all. The crisp silence had an icy sense of dread trickling down his spine, and when he didn’t hear your sweet voice responding to his cautious calls of your name, he went into a full blown panic.

You were gone.

Year One.

This wasn’t happening again. It couldn’t be. There was no way he had survived losing Maria and the kids just to find you, to let your endless patience and irrevocable empathy fill the gaping void in his chest, only to lose you too. It had to be some kind of cruel joke. Frank didn’t consider himself a good man; he was well aware of and acquainted with his demons. But he didn’t deserve this.

Did he?

It was forty-eight hours before anyone even knew what happened. One giant asshole snapped his fingers, and half the universe’s population ceased to exist. Frank had stopped believing in God a lifetime ago, and he certainly didn’t believe in aliens or otherworldly creatures. He had seen first hand during his time in the Marines that mankind was the real monster. But it didn’t matter that he didn’t believe in it, because it happened, and not even the fucking Avengers could stop it. Hell, half of them were gone too.

Two weeks after the snap, news broke that Thanos had been killed, and that the Infinity Stones were destroyed, but the remaining members of the Avengers were trying to come up with a way to bring everyone back. For months Frank was glued to every news outlet, frantically waiting for even the smallest of updates. Anything was something. He refused to believe that the snap was permanent. The Avengers were going to find a way to bring everyone back. They had to. 

Your pillowcase had stopped smelling like your shampoo, and Frank found himself using it and your body wash just to keep your scent on the sheets. He burned your favorite candles and read your favorite books. He wouldn’t stay gone longer than fifteen minutes in case you finally came home. He wanted to be there when you did. Frank kept himself busy with little projects around the house, things that you had mentioned changing or updating that he had promised he would get around to and never did. Frank swore to himself when you came home, things would be different. 

He would take that trip you wanted to go on. He’d take you to the shelter to pick out a dog like you had been talking about. Maybe you two would finally start a family. Whatever you wanted, he’d give you. He’d find a way to give you the goddamn moon and every single star in the sky if you wanted them. 

As soon as you came home.

But then a year went by, and nothing had changed. The anniversary of the snap came and went, and everyone seemed to give up hope on bringing everyone back, or they just decided to move on and accept that no one was coming back.

But Frank couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t. He refused to believe you were really gone.

Year Two.

The worst part about the snap was that Frank couldn’t collect his vengeance in blood like he had with his family. The one who took you from him was already dead, and even if he hadn’t been, Frank had no way of reaching him. Thanos was a Titan, someone who was revered as a God to those that followed him, and Frank was just a man. A man poisoned with rage and an insatiable thirst for revenge. So, he did what he was good at. He punished. Even though half the universe’s population was gone, that didn’t mean there weren’t still monsters left on Earth.

Frank killed without mercy or prejudice. There was no sin too harmless for his wrath. His fists collided with skin and bone until there was nothing left but ivory fragments tainted crimson and torn flesh. He didn’t stop, not even when his destructive blows caused his own knuckles to crack. It had gotten to the point where he hardly reached for a gun anymore unless he absolutely had to. He preferred to use his hands or serrated steel. He wanted to inflict every ounce of pain that he felt inside on whoever was stupid enough to get in his way.

It was like he wasn’t even mentally present anymore. His conscience had been shut off somehow, and all that was left was a relentless killing machine. Whenever he ran out of targets in the city, he moved on to hunt in the next one, and the next one, and the next one. He lived primarily out of his van, or whatever dingy motel he came across on the road. He hadn’t stepped foot in your home in almost a year. He couldn’t. It was haunted by your memory, and he couldn’t desecrate the home you two had made together with what he had become.

You would be ashamed of him. You would be disgusted and horrified by the things he had done. That thought echoed in his head as he watched the water continue to run red while he stood under the weak spray of the shower head. He didn’t know what town or even what state he was in. He didn’t know what day of the week it was, or what month it was. He didn’t care. All he knew was that you were gone, and he had nothing left.

Nothing left but the white hot fury that infected his veins and had him seeking out blood like water in the desert.

Year Three.

Frank couldn’t visit you, not like he could Maria and the kids. He couldn’t even have the closure of burying you, because there wasn’t a body. There was no final resting place for you, and he didn’t think that was fucking fair. Today was your birthday, and Frank had been drowning himself in whiskey trying to dilute the painful memories that played in his head like a haunting home movie. 

The angelic sound of your voice as you read him whatever book your nose was buried in that week, your fingers slipping through his dark tresses while he laid his head on your chest and listened in pure content. The feeling of your soft lips on his heated skin and delicate noises of pleasure as your bodies connected like they were made for each other. Your melodic laughter, the silkiness of your skin, slow dancing in the living room with the moon acting as a spotlight. 

All the words he never said. All the promises he didn’t get to keep. All the dreams that wouldn’t come true.

Somehow Frank found himself in a church. He couldn’t remember the last time he stepped foot in one. Maybe it was Sunday school back when his parents still forced him to go. He had stumbled in, his heavy boots thudding along the aisle, the only other sound coming from the amber liquid sloshing around in the half empty bottle in his hand. He stopped when he got to the front, looking up at the stained glass depictions of angels, until his weary eyes landed on the savior that was nailed to the giant cross.

Frank glared at him for several minutes before hurling the half empty bottle right at the head of the statue, causing a firework explosion of shimmering shards of glass to rain over the altar and various candles that had been lit for loved ones that had passed on. His rough voice boomed throughout the empty space.

“You son of a bitch! Why didn’t you take me, huh? Why not me? She ain’t never done a goddamn thing wrong. I’m the one you want. I’m the one that deserves it. I’m the goddamn killer here, huh? I’m the fuckin’ Punisher. So you bring her back, and you take me!”

Frank started grabbing bibles from the pews and hurling them at the statue with all his strength. In his inebriated state, some of them flew right past the statue and knocked over other small figurines and candlesticks. He let out a guttural war cry every time he threw a new one, and by the time he ran out of steam, he was panting heavily, and tears had formed in his eyes.

Dropping to his knees, he looked up at the melancholic face of the statue that matched his own, and he did something he hadn’t done in years. 

He prayed.

“Please. Please, just bring her back. I’ll take her place…I won’t fight…just…just bring her back. I’m beggin’ you…I’ll do whatever it takes, alright? Just…you can’t…you can’t do this to me again. You can’t. I may deserve it, but she don’t…okay so just…just…”

Frank was tired. Three years without you was too long. He hadn’t been able to find the peace that he had found after Maria and the kids. He spent a year waging war on everyone, and it did nothing. He spent the last few months drowning himself in booze, and it didn’t help. Nothing helped, and there was nothing to keep him going. You were gone, and you weren’t coming back, so what the hell was he still getting out of bed every morning for?

Reaching into the pocket of his coat, Frank pulled out a revolver and stared down at it. There was only one bullet in the chamber, and it wasn’t meant for anyone but him. If God wouldn’t bring you back, then he would go to you.

As soon as he cocked the hammer, a familiar voice sounded behind him.

“You don’t wanna do that, Frank.”

Turning his head to look over his shoulder, Frank squinted his blurry eyes before turning back around, shaking his head with a dry laugh.

“You gotta be fuckin’ kiddin’ me. Half the goddamn universe gets wiped out, and I get stuck with the fuckin’ altar boy.”

“Frank-”

“Mind your fuckin’ business, Red. Just cause there’s only one bullet in this chamber don’t mean I won’t handle your ass.”

Matt let out a deep exhale through his nose as he took a few cautious steps towards where Frank was on his knees in front of the altar.

“You’re drunk-”

“And you’re fuckin’ relentless. Go home.”

“Look, whoever you lost-”

“Whoever I lost? I lost everyone, Red!”

Matt didn’t flinch when Frank suddenly rose from his knees and stormed over towards him, his loud voice booming in the silence as they stood barely an inch apart. Matt cocked his head to the side slightly, his lips pursed as he grit his teeth.

“You think you’re the only one that’s lost everyone you’ve ever cared about, Frank?”

“Then what the hell are you waitin’ on, huh? You too much of a fuckin’ pussy to do it yourself, huh? That it? You need me to do it for you?”

Matt carefully reached out to place his hand on Frank’s arm, lowering the gun that was in his hand while he spoke in a calm voice.

“I don’t want to die, Frank. And I don’t think you want to either. You just want the pain to stop. But if you do this, it’s permanent, and you’ll never know if she came back.”

Frank shook his head and blew a puff of hot air out of his lips, his dark brows scrunching up in pure annoyance and frustration.

“She ain’t comin’ back-”

“You don’t know that. She’s not dead, Frank. She’s lost. Maybe she’s with Karen and Foggy. Frank, someone came down from another planet and wiped out half the universe. Is it so crazy to think that could be undone?”

The anger that was simmering inside Frank from Matt’s intrusion seemed to be burning through the alcohol in his system, and Matt’s question was igniting a tiny ember of hope that Frank wasn’t prepared to tend to. His body physically deflated as he dropped his head between his broad shoulders. There was a heavy tide of tears on his bottom lash line threatening to flood at any moment.

“Don’t do that.”

“You have to have faith, Frank-“

“I don’t, Red.”

“I do.”

Frank didn’t know when Matt managed to slip the revolver from his grasp, but he didn’t feel the weight of a permanent decision in his palm anymore. Matt had planted a tiny seed of hope, and what if’s were taking over Frank’s brain like wild ivy. 

What if there was a chance you could come back? Matt had a point, you weren’t dead. Not really. Even if the probability of it happening was one in a million, didn’t Frank owe you the same unwavering patience you had always shown him?

“Look Frank, just…give me a year. One year to show you things can be different. If you still want to make that call in a year, I won’t stop you. I’ll leave you alone. But Frank…you’ve gotten through this once before. You can do this again. If not for yourself, just try for her.”

A year. A year was nothing in the grand scheme of things. Frank had already been without you for three years now. 

What was one more?

Year Four.

Matt’s apartment was fucking obnoxious due to that goddamn billboard across the street, but it was better than the shitty motels Frank had been staying in. He still couldn’t step foot in the home he had shared with you. It had been three years now, and even though he wasn’t fully convinced you could come back, he couldn’t let it go. Everything that was you was there, and if he sold the house, that meant every trace of you and your existence was gone.

Matt had one rule for Frank staying with him; no killing. For a week, Frank lounged on the couch trying to figure out what to do with himself. He would start to read a book, but could never get more than a few pages because he remembered how much you loved to read, and then he would get stuck staring at the pages while memories of you played on loop in his head. There wasn’t a TV because Matt didn’t have use for one, and Frank didn’t care to watch anything anyway. It didn’t take long for Frank to go stir crazy. He had never been good at staying idle.

While Matt was out making the world a better place, Frank had managed to find a construction job. Busting down walls all day long allowed him to get his pent up anger out while not breaking Matt’s golden rule. Most days it felt like Frank was on autopilot. He woke up, went to the job site, smashed a sledgehammer through a wall until his hands bled, came home, tried to sleep, inevitably had a nightmare about losing you, and laid on the couch staring blankly up at the ceiling until the sun rose.

Every single day was a repeat of the last until they started to blur together. Frank didn’t speak to anyone at the job sites. He didn’t speak to anyone at all. Between Matt’s busy court schedule and his nightly patrols, they didn’t see each other often, and even when they were home at the same time, Frank still hardly spoke to him. He wasn’t sleeping, he barely ate, and on the days he had off, he didn’t leave the couch. He felt like a hollow shell of the man he used to be.

Matt knew what he was going through. Hell, he had been there himself after the second time he lost Elektra. He knew what it felt like to lose the person you loved most in this world, and that had happened to Frank twice now. He did his best to be patient, but after four months, he couldn’t take it anymore. Matt was fortunate that he’d had people that helped him combat his depression to find his way back to himself, but Frank didn’t have a soul in his corner.

Except for Matt. 

And even though Frank wasn’t shy about not wanting Matt’s help, Matt didn’t care. Frank could be stubborn, but he didn’t have the energy or the drive to match Matt’s stubbornness, and Matt used that to his advantage. He was relentless in pushing Frank to participate in life again. He purposely antagonized Frank, even if it meant being reduced to a human punching bag, because that meant Frank was still in there somewhere.

Matt started small in getting him out of the apartment, like guilt tripping Frank into joining him on trips to the grocery store.

“You’re not gonna help your blind roommate get groceries? You know, a lot of items don’t come with braille labels. So when I die because I accidentally put bleach in my coffee instead of creamer, you have to say nice things about me at my funeral.”

“You don’t need labels, Red. You got that goddamn bloodhound nose. Would you stop lookin’ at me like that? Jesus fuckin’ Christ, fine. Get your fuckin’ jacket and let’s go.”

After a while, he even managed to get Frank to join him at Fogwell’s from time to time.

“No wonder you became a goddamn lawyer. All you know how to do is fuckin’ argue, makes sense you made a livin’ outta it.”

“I’m not arguing, Frank. If we got in the ring, you would lose. That’s a fact. You don’t know how to box, you just know how to run at people and slam them into things. And you’re too bulky to move as fast as me. None of that is an argument, it’s a simple observation.”

“Why don’t you observe your ass in that ring so I can shut you the fuck up, Red.”

The more time they spent together, and the more Frank put in an effort to move forward one step at a time, the less empty he felt. The nightmares still came every so often, and there were days where the weight of your absence was too much for him to bear, but for the first time in four years, he didn’t feel so hopeless.

He could think about you without breaking down. He could see something that reminded him of you, and it warmed his heart instead of ripping it out. He had finally reached a point where he had slowly crawled out of the deep pit of grief that he had been digging for the past four years.

As much as he hated to admit it, Matt had helped him find a semblance of peace.

Year Five.

The sound of a dog barking caught Frank’s attention. He pulled his head out from under the hood of his truck, looking over at the grey and white pitbull that was standing a few feet away from the front door of the house you and Frank had lived in together that he’d finally moved back into six months ago. He glanced between the front door and the dog with his thick brows furrowed.

“What is it, Daisy?”

The dog turned her head when she heard Frank’s voice, the movement so fast it made her long velvet ears flop. She turned her attention back to the door and continued to bark. Something inside had caught her attention. Eyeing the front door warily, Frank rubbed his grease stained hands off on a small rag and walked over towards where Daisy was, kneeling down beside her to gently scratch that spot between her ears that she loved.

“Hey, shh shh shh. C’mon now, what’s got you so worked up, huh? What do you think is inside, huh? You smellin’ that-”

The sound of the front door opening caught Frank’s attention, and he instantly snapped his head in the direction of it. All of a sudden, his warm brown eyes went wide, and time seemed to freeze in that very moment. 

“Sweetheart?”

His quiet whisper was dripped in disbelief. There you were, looking exactly the same as the day you had vanished, looking between Frank and Daisy with an expression of surprise and perplexment.

“Frank?”

God, your voice. It had been five years since he had last heard it. That was all the confirmation he needed that this was real. You were real. You were really home. 

Without wasting a second, Frank stood and ran over towards you, tears filling up his eyes as he wrapped his arms around your frame and hugged you as tightly as physically possible. His heart was thrashing against his ribcage, and he was terrified this was just a vivid dream, but then he inhaled the scent of your shampoo intermingled with your perfume, felt your hands gently pressing against his back, and heard your soft angelic laughter.

“Frankie…baby…you’re crushing me.”

Frank pulled back only slightly, bringing his large hands up to cup your face to study your features, taking in every single inch of you. He caught the way you frowned softly, looking up at him in pure concern when thick tears streamed down his cheeks. You lifted your hand to delicately brush them away with the featherlight touch of your fingers.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

“You’re really here.”

“Of course I’m here. Where else would I be? Baby, why are you so upset?”

As you ran your hands through his long grown out curls, a crease of bewilderment nestled in between your brows when you took in his appearance.

“Wait…what happened to your hair? It was just short five seconds ago…and you didn’t have a beard. How…how did you do that? And when did we get a dog? Frank, what-”

Five seconds ago. 

Is that all it was for you? Frank could see the visible disorientation on your delicate features, and he had a lot of questions of his own, but right now nothing mattered but you. He leaned in and captured your lips in a deep kiss, pouring every emotion he had felt in the past five years into it. He kissed you like the world could end at any moment, because for him it did the day you vanished.

When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead against yours and let out a deep exhale of relief.

“You…you were gone, sweetheart. You were gone a long time…a long goddamn time.”

“Gone? What-”

“I’ll explain everythin’, I promise. Just…just give me a minute, please. Just let me hold you for a minute, can you do that for me, baby? Please?”

Frank had always been able to read you like a book, and he could tell by the look in your eyes that you weren’t just confused. Hearing you had been gone for a long time infused you with a sense of panic and uncertainty. But you trusted Frank, and you knew whatever hard truth he was going to tell you, he wouldn’t let you go through it alone.

“Okay.”

As Frank embraced you again, you suddenly felt a pair of paws on your back. Glancing over your shoulder, you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of the happy dog wagging its tail while looking between you and Frank. Reaching down, you gently pet the side of her face with a soft smile.

“Hi there, precious.”

“Daisy.”

Glancing up at Frank, your lips parted slightly when Frank told you her name. A soft smile covered his lips, the first smile to do so in five years. He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind your ear slowly.

“You always said if we got a dog and it was a girl, you wanted to name her Daisy.”

Tears welled up along your bottom lash line as you looked up at Frank, a gentle smile covering your lips. After a moment, you glanced away from Frank to look at Daisy again, letting out a soft laugh.

“I’ve waited a long time to meet you, Daisy.”

Frank gave your waist a light squeeze, leaning in to press a soft lingering kiss to your cheek.

“And we’ve been waitin’ a long time for you. Welcome home, sweetheart.”

tags: @day-dreaming-goddess @kdogreads @heimtathurs @mars-rants-a-lot @casa-boiardi @fireeyes-on-teller-dixon-grimes @hazallem @avencol @neverlandcity @charmedkim @queenofthenoobs @stilldreaming666 @mattymurdock1021 @bubuslutty @ninejlovebot @purrrfect @pennylovey @firesunflamed @oscarisaacsleftknee @ameliaswife @Vane28282 @kmc1989 @messymissy @dark-academia-slut @strawberry1042 @utterlynuts

[autumnywinter]

can you pretty pls do more yandere elliot?

I hope this is good! I don't know if it's obvious or not, but he's my favorite character to write for.

Yandere!Elliott x Reader

Tags: Stalking, manipulation, mentioned blackmail, gender neutral reader

From the day you and Elliott met, you had become pretty close. Moving made it pretty hard to befriend anyone, especially due to your schedule, but Elliott seemed always available for you, always nearby and ready for a conversation. You and him had practically became best friends within the first few months of knowing each other. Elliott was a sweet guy, one that you cherished as a good friend.

Over the time you had moved, you had been trying to get back into dating. Elliott was supportive, and was always there to cry on when you were inevitably ghosted or dumped after one date.

This one really hurt, however. You were really into this person you had a date with, just for them to never speak again after the second date.

You turned to the one person you felt like would always be there for you. Elliott. You knocked on the door of his cabin, trying not to cry. It was pouring rain outside, soaking you to the bone. Your clothes clung to your skin, hair soaked and dripped down to your neck uncomfortably.

Elliott opened the door, worry immediately painting his face when he saw you shivering violently in front of him. "Y/n! What happened? Come inside, it's freezing out there!" He ushered you inside quickly, shutting the door behind you both. Elliott helped take off your jacket, hanging it up near the fireplace to dry it quicker.

"I'm sorry for showing up unannounced," you mumbled.

"Don't apologize, it's alright. Here, let me get you some dry clothes," Elliott said. He rushed into the restroom, coming back out with a fluffy purple towel and a white t-shirt and gray sweatpants.

It made you feel a little better imagining him own and wear such casual clothing. He had a huge vocabulary, but "casual" wasn't exactly something you assumed was in his dictionary. Even now, he was dressed in a beige turtleneck and black slacks.

Elliott dried your hair off with the towel gently, making sure to get all of the water out as best as he could. He then handed the clothing to you, turning around politely so you could change without him looking.

You quickly stripped from your wet clothing, putting on Elliott's warm, dry clothing instead. They smelled like ink and pine. Kind of like the trees that grew around your home.

"I'm done. Thanks," you told him.

He turned back around to face you. His cheeks were dusted pink, looking you up and down. Elliott cleared his throat and broke away his stare. "Of course. Do you want something to drink? I recently bought some hot chocolate, but I have tea too."

"Hot chocolate sounds nice," you responded quietly. Elliott smiled and went into the kitchen, returning shortly with two mugs of hot cocoa. He handed you one, sitting down on the couch next to you. He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, to the point where you were basically laying on top of him.

It was normal for cuddling to ensue between the both of you. Elliott was a very touchy person, always holding your hand or hugging you tightly. You never minded, though. Elliott was always soft and warm. It was comforting.

Elliott's hand drifted to your still-damp hair, massaging your scalp. You let out a content sigh, melting into Elliott's hold. "Do you want to talk about what happened?"

Your contentment dissolved into sadness again. "I was ghosted. Again. And I really thought they were into me."

He cooed and put his own mug down on the coffee table in front of you both before taking yours. You followed suit when he opened his arms invitingly.

You crawled into his lap, arms around his neck and head buried into the crook of it. Elliott buried his nose deep into your hair and inhaled. You were too busy crying to notice.

Elliott's arms tightened around you, rubbing soothing circles into your back. "Shh... it's okay. You deserve the world, and if they don't realize that, they were never worth it to begin with."

"I think I'm the problem. It has to be something I'm doing if--what, three people now?--have already ghosted me after one or two dates." You leaned into his warm hands that thumbed away your tears. "Maybe I'm just unlovable."

Elliott stiffened underneath you and his expression hardened. "No. Y/n, look at me," he said. He never sounded so firm before.

You lifted your head up to look at him. Elliott's eyes softened as soon as he looked at your tear-stained face.

"You are not unlovable. If anything, it's their loss. You're wonderful and kind and absolutely gorgeous. If they can't see that, then they're idiots. Okay?" Elliott leaned in, pressing a chaste kiss onto your forehead. "And perhaps, true love isn't as far away as you think it is."

You were too tired to look into his usual flowery words. Instead, you nodded and curled up against him again. Elliott returned to holding you, letting you cry into his shoulder.

He hummed to you. His hand stayed in your hair, another one on your back keeping you pressed against him.

When you woke up, you were tucked comfortably into Elliott's bed. The blankets were heavy on top of you, warm and cozy. Elliott was still holding you, but you could hear his soft snores. You smiled a little to yourself. He must've carried you here. Elliott was a sweetheart, even when you cried into him for hours until you fell asleep from exhaustion.

You laid there for a while longer, trying to fall back asleep. You couldn't, though, so you carefully slipped out of Elliott's grip to find the bathroom.

Despite having been in his cabin many times, you never actually went anywhere but the kitchen and living room. Elliott's cabin was small, but the darkness made it seem a lot larger than it actually was. You didn't want to turn on the lights to wake him, so you fumbled for your phone but couldn't find it.

Trying not to trip over anything, you shuffled around until you were sure you found the doorknob to the restroom. You closed the door behind you and flicked on the light, just to see a closet.

Just as you were going to walk out, you noticed something odd. A photo of you laid on top of a box. You curiously picked it up.

It wasn't a photo of you posing for the camera, or a selfie, or anything of that sort. It was a photo of you from far away, walking through town. The photo was clearly taken without your knowledge.

There were more photos under it. All of you. You were in every single one. Some of you shopping, some of you working, some of you talking to your friends. One of them even had you changing through the window. Your stomach churned when you saw one of you in bed, sleeping peacefully. You could see his shadow looming over you in that one.

It got more disturbing. You saw articles of your clothing that you had lost and never found. A pillowcase that was stained with hopefully your past drool, a used hairbrush, and various other things were inside the box too.

The door suddenly opened and you jumped, dropping everything in your hands. You backed up against the wall, staring at Elliott with wide eyes.

He stared back at you, eyes flickering from you to the box and pictures on the floor. His mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. After a few seconds, he finally spoke. "Y/n, it's not what it looks like."

"Then what is it, Elliott?" you asked shakily. "What the hell is this?"

Elliott ran his fingers through his hair, sighing deeply. He crouched down and started picking up the pictures you dropped. "Please, listen to me. I would never hurt you. I just... I couldn't help myself." He collected all the photos with shaky hands and put them back in the box.

You didn't know why you weren't running. You should be sprinting out the door by now, but something kept you frozen in place. Elliott slowly stood up and took a step towards you. You flinched.

"I love you," he confessed. "So much. I've never felt this way about anyone in my life. I was so depressed before I met you. Everything was dark and meaningless. But then I met you." He stood close enough to cup your face in his hands, thumbs caressing your cheekbones. "You are everything to me. My light, my heart, my reason to live. I can't imagine living without you. I need you like I need air. Every time you're away from me feels like torture."

He leaned in close, forehead pressed against yours. You were still processing everything.

Elliott's breath tickled your lips. "I would do anything for you. Kill for you. Die for you. Anything you want, I'll give it to you. I could treat you so much better than those... people ever could." He spat out the word 'people', resisting to use another word to describe them.

Realization dawned on you. "Did you kill them?!"

"Of course not! I just," he dragged out a long sigh, letting you back away from him, "scared them away. If threatening them didn't work, I got blackmail on them. That was the only way your last date left you alone."

Your knees were weak. "You're sick."

Elliott frowned deeply. "I'm in love." You opened your mouth, but he cut you off. "Who do you go to when you're sad? Me. Who do you talk to about your problems? Me. Who do you call when you need comfort? Me. I'm the one who's always there for you, Y/n. Not them. Maybe you don't realize it, but you need me just as much as I need you."

"We're done talking, Elliott," you said. You tried to push past him to leave, but he grabbed your wrists tightly. You winced. "Let me go."

"I'll die without you. Please, stay," Elliott begged. "I'm sorry if I frightened you. I just got overwhelmed. I promise I'll be better. Just please, don't leave me. I can't handle losing you. I'd never ever hurt you."

Your shoulders sagged, so Elliott let his grip only slightly loosen. "You're scaring me."

Elliott cooed. "Oh, sweetheart. You have nothing to be scared of. I could never hurt you. I just love you so much." He released your wrists completely, only to wrap you up in a tight hug. "I just want what's best for you. And that's me. I can take care of you. You wouldn't have to lift a finger. I'll cook for you, clean for you, I'll do anything for you." Elliott was almost crying into your shoulder. His entire body was shaking.

Your fear and disgust turned into pity. Elliott was clearly sick. He needed help. You wrapped your arms around him hesitantly. Elliott melted into your hold like butter. He held you tighter, if that was possible.

"Elliott, you need help. This isn't normal." You rubbed his back in an awkward attempt to comfort him.

"I don't need help, I just need you." Elliott buried his nose into your neck, inhaling your scent.

You pursed your lips. Elliott was a good friend. He was always there for you. That was the only thing that prevented you from storming out the door or slapping him across the face. Well, that and the fact you were still terrified of him. "Why don't we lay down? It's late."

Elliott pulled away to look at you. His eyes were bloodshot and his cheeks were red from crying. He nodded. "Yes, you must be tired. Let's go lay down." Elliott took your hand and lead you into his bedroom again. You both laid down and Elliott immediately wrapped his arms and legs around you. Your face was almost smothered into his chest, and his scent didn't carry the same comforting smell as it normally did.

"Elliott?"

"Hm?"

"Will you let me leave in the morning?"

Elliott was silent for a moment. You thought he might've fallen asleep until he replied, "We'll talk about it in the morning."

That was code for "probably not".

[httpswritings]

nothing to be ashamed of

katie mccabe x reader

A jolt of cold dread ripped you from sleep. Disoriented, you blinked at the faint glow of the bedside lamp. A crimson stain blooming on the white sheets confirmed your worst fear. Your period had arrived overnight, and you'd bled through everything. Shame washed over you, a familiar tide during these times.

A soft sniffle beside you broke the silence. You turned to see Katie, your amazing girlfriend, her brow furrowed with concern. Her usually vibrant blue eyes held a tenderness that melted the knot forming in your throat.

"Hey, love, what's wrong?" she asked, her voice husky with sleep but laced with a concern that warmed you despite the chill of fear.

You couldn't meet her gaze. "It's my period," you mumbled, the words barely audible. You felt ridiculous for feeling this way, but periods always made you feel vulnerable, exposed.

Understanding flickered across Katie's face, chasing away the worry lines. She sat up, gently brushing a stray strand of hair from your cheek. "Oh, baby," she murmured, her voice a soothing balm. "Don't worry, I'm here."

The efficiency with which she moved next was both comforting and a testament to years of dealing with her own cycle. Reaching for the nightstand drawer, she retrieved a box of tampons and a fluffy heating pad. Her movements were silent, a silent language of love and care you understood all too well.

As you sat up, wincing at the dull ache in your lower abdomen, Katie took your hand, her warm touch grounding you. "Let's get you changed," she said, her voice calm and reassuring. "Then we can cuddle on the couch with some hot chocolate, okay?"

The idea of leaving the warmth of your bed felt daunting, but the thought of hot chocolate and Katie's comforting presence was irresistible. You managed a weak nod, a flicker of a smile tugging at the corner of your lips.

Katie made quick work of helping you change. Her movements were gentle yet efficient as she removed the stained sheets, tucking you into fresh ones that smelled like sunshine. As she plugged in the heating pad, a wave of gratitude washed over you. You never realized how much these simple acts meant until you were in this vulnerable state.

Curled under the covers with the heating pad pressed against your stomach, a wave of relief washed over you. Katie settled beside you, her strong arm wrapping around your shoulders. Leaning your head against her chest, you inhaled the familiar scent of her sweat and her favorite lavender shampoo – a comforting mix that always made you feel safe.

"Feeling any better?" she asked softly, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back, a silent massage that eased the tension knotting your muscles.

"Yeah," you sighed, a contented hum escaping your lips. "Thanks to you."

A comfortable silence settled between you, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the heating pad and the gentle rise and fall of Katie's chest. Reaching up, you brushed a stray curl from her forehead. "You're incredible, Katie," you whispered, the words thick with emotion.

Katie chuckled, a warm sound that vibrated against your chest. "Just being your girlfriend," she whispered back, squeezing you tighter.

She switched on the TV, finding a cheesy rom-com you both secretly loved. You spent the next few hours snuggled on the couch, the warmth of the heating pad and Katie's embrace chasing away the discomfort. Occasionally, Katie would pause the movie to refill your hot chocolate mug or whisper words of encouragement, reminding you of her unwavering support.

As the night wore on, the initial panic melted away, replaced by a comforting sense of security. Katie's presence was a constant source of warmth, both physically and emotionally. You drifted in and out of sleep, lulled by the sound of her breathing and the gentle hum of the heating pad.

Waking to the smell of bacon frying, you realized you must have fallen asleep on the couch. Katie appeared from the kitchen, a warm smile on her face and a plate piled high with pancakes in her hand.

"Hello again, sleepyhead," she said, placing the plate on the coffee table and handing you a steaming mug of tea. "Lunch in the sofa. Period edition. I'll clean everything up afterwards. Don't worry.”

You took a sip, the warmth spreading through you. This wasn't your ideal way to spend the day, but with Katie's love and care surrounding you, it felt strangely okay. As you took a bite of the fluffy pancake, a new realization dawned on you. Periods weren't so scary after all, not when you had someone like Katie by your side, reminding you that you were loved and supported, no matter what.

[fanaticsnail]

Your Flirty Chef

(Image Source)

Masterlist Here.

Word Count: 4,267

Synopsis: Sanji has been working hard lately, your flirty chef no longer as present as you’d like him to be. You both have some unspoken flirtation between you, hopefully something to shatter by molding him beneath the touch of your hands. 

Themes: Sanji x reader, mutual pining, idiots in love, flirtation, cooking, kissing, touching, massage, moaning, Sanji is a whimpering mess, suggestive themes, Baratie.

Notes: This was a gift created for the lovely @vespidphoenix who adores my 'Bar Shift' series. We're back home at Baratie! I hope you enjoy!

Tag List: @sordidmusings @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @since-im-already-here @feral-artistry

The light danced from the open bay windows across the circular polished floorboards, the wax allowing for a wonderful grip beneath your black, closed toe work-shoes. The handles of the porcelain tray began to heat beneath your palms and fingertips, the foamed milk and cream jiggling with each careful footstep you placed on the ground. 

You noticed first the depiction of the business of the kitchen staff through the circular windows attached to the doors, the smoke and flames rising to char the dish within the pans. You caught the eyeroll of your favorite blonde coworker as he shook his head, refusing to take direction from your boss and head chef of Baratie. 

“Alright boys, coffee time. Take a break!” you called after making your way through the swinging double doors to the kitchen. Immediately, pre-service was paused as a pile of hardened ex-pirates enthusiastically made their way to the pass. 

Echoes of praise rang from the kitchen upon your utterances, all occurring simultaneously as grabbing hands eagerly pried the dishes within your tray as you placed it down.

“Truly a lifesaver, Doll,” Carne praised, claiming his piccolo-latte from the tray and raising it to his lips in one quick swig.

“Oh, my sweetheart. Thank you, Love,” Patty shot you a winning smile, raising his extra strong flat-white from the tray and scuttling back over to his patisserie station. 

“Something there for me, Honey?” Zeff asked, the click and scrape of his pegleg and boot heel knocking against the floor prompted you to gather his long-black coffee and hand it off to him personally with a small bow.

“Of course, Chef,” you smiled at him, handing it over and turning back to the tray to witness the depletion of the amassment of coffees you’d prepared; only two now remaining. Sanji was in the middle of temperature controlling whisked egg whites and scorching sugar, unable to halt his whipping to claim his regular hit of caffeine from you.

“Just leave it on the table, Dove. I’ll be over in a second, okay?” Sanji’s brows were furrowed in concentration, the stainless steel bowl held firmly in his left hand and cradled against his chest. Soft peaks of white, fluffy meringue began to form within the bowl, his right hand continuing to beat in absolute concentration in a rotational way. 

“You want to take it outside when you're done, Ji? Have smoko?” you asked him, removing the two mugs and placing it on the tray. Sanji scoffed back a small chuckle, flicking his hair away from his eyes as he continued whisking. 

“Please, and thank you. I’ll be out in about a minute thirty? Just gotta start on the macaroons, then I’m on my quarter,” He broke his concentration on the bowl below him, flicking his cool-gray eyes over to you and watching as you began wiping down the tray, and claiming the emptied cups within to return to the bar. 

As you left the kitchen, Sanji continued to watch your departure through his peripherals while meeting optimum temperature for the egg whites. He paddled the mixture with a silicone spatula into a plastic piping bag and rotated the end to hold the pressure in place, leaving it neatly to the side of his workstation to complete forming the macaroons after his break.

“On your quarter, Little Eggplant?” Zeff asked, brow raising as he took a sip from his strong coffee. Eyeing his apprentice suspiciously, he looked him over as Sanji removed his apron and neckerchief to relax on his break. 

“Oui, chef,” he smirked, hanging his apron on his designated hook and halting once more at the door, “that alright with you, old man?” 

“Fine by me, boy. Just-,” Zeff had an almost sly twinkle in his eye, a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, “-Just be kind to our bartender, alright?” 

“What’s that supposed to mean? I’m always kind,” Sanji retorted, taken aback with his lip curling into a small snarl. A small echo of teetered laughter and snickers reverberated within the walls of the kitchen amongst the clanging of pots and pans. 

“You know what I mean, lad,” Zeff grunted, placing his empty coffee cup on the sink beside Carne who had begun washing the crockery, “Off you pop. When you get back, we’re doing Before Service. Start gettin’ it ready, lads! Family Meal in a quarter.”

“Oui Chef!” Echoed in the kitchen, each chef springing to their station to begin getting the elements of their dishes together to present to each other before the rush of the dining service. 

Sanji huffed a small sigh, exiting the kitchen and walking over to the fishmouth of the bar where you were waiting for him. Sanji had a small circle of thoughts swirling within his mind, echoing and reverberating the words Zeff had commanded of him. ‘Be kind’? What does ‘be kind’ even mean? Was he not kind? Had he not been kind to you in your interactions prior? 

There was never a doubt in Sanji’s mind that he adored you. His affections were showcased in how he regularly sought you out on advice when conflicting with your boss and his mentor, Zeff. You were the one he came to when he had a rush of inspiration in the kitchen, spoon feeding you samples of his amazing cuisine for your constructive criticism or your unwithheld praise. 

Just a simple hum and a nod of your head in response to his food had his heart swelling, but when you closed your eyes and a moan was siphoned from your breath had his pupils darkening, and thoughts of lustful interactions with you plagued him. He would lie awake at night thinking about how your lips wrapped around the spoon he presented you, your eyelashes fluttering shut and a small gasp fled from your lips as you reopened them in glee. 

And that is when it hit him. As he watched the sun dance on your skin, your fingertips casually dancing along the ropes beneath the hard surface of the bar; he realized what Zeff meant by his suggestion. 

Sanji was in love with you. 

He was so desperately in love with you, he would do anything to see you smile, to hear your laugh, or to collect one of those hummed moans you’d save only for him when sampling his dishes. He was mad for you, so much so that he charged right through the feeling itself and bypassed all of the warning signs screaming at him to not fall in love with his coworker. 

He halted his steps, the spell shattering within him as he came to terms with the feeling swelling within his chest. Sanji was a perpetual flirt, and you would reciprocate his advances in a way that had you both giggling and teetering like idiots. Your natural rapport with one another, the way you bounced off each other on the pass when you worked floor shift, or when you’d fetch him coffees and trial new designs within the foam just for him. The way he would present a meal he had created for Family Meal for everyone, but alter yours in a way that showed how much he truly adored you with its careful assembly. 

Sanji was in love with you. 

Looking over your shoulder, your body remaining presented to the water and the docks, you noticed Sanji staggering in the shadows of the fishmouth bar with his footsteps halting. You furrowed your brows, turning completely around and arching your back against the railing of the external bar surrounding the perimeter of the side-bar. 

“That you, Ji? Here for your quarter and a smoke?” you asked him, a warm smile pulling at your mouth to welcome him into the area. You thought you heard Sanji cough, a choked sound within the shadows indicating his presence. Your furrow began to descend into a frown while cocking your head to the side, “Coffee’s getting cold, Sweetheart. Come over here and keep me company.” 

You were unsure how more obvious you could be regarding your affections for the blonde suis-chef of Baratie. You were a flirt by nature, a job you were hired and paid to complete to build a successful interaction with your clientele. But Sanji. Sanji you got to flirt with for free. 

Flirting with Sanji was a competitive sport, and one you championed as the captain of the team and the cheer squad. 

It started with a game of chicken; food related innuendos and outrageously crass flirtations offered to fluster one another for entertainment, while completing a particularly grueling shift. It had you both laughing and in high spirits regardless of how little the guests respected you or physically fought with one another during the shift. You adored spending time together, building rapport and learning from one another through your flirtatious nature.

Your favorite pastime was watching Sanji work. The way he rolled his sleeves up slowly to pin by his elbows, the way his forearms stretched and flexed as he julienned vegetables, the concentrated expression of his eyes as he tweezed a piece of gold leaf atop a caramel fudge, with a careful scoop of vanilla ice cream melting on the rim.

And then it hit you. The arrow of the winged cupid struck your heart with the pierce of iron as he offered you the first spoonful of a dish he had prepared, and meticulously cared for, specifically for you. Apprehensively wrapping your lips around the spoon and flicking your tongue over the curved edge, you couldn’t help but to moan at both the flavor presented to you, and the expression of complete devotion and the eagerness to please you written all over his face. 

You were in love with Sanji.

You couldn’t help the way you felt for him, always aiming to task him with something simple: “Ji, be a sweetheart and hand me that steel jug, please?” to something a little more complex: “Sanji, would you cook that dish for me for Family Meal? The one with the brie and the rillette de canard? I adore that one.” He was a puppy, following your direction and orders with glee, and you were absolutely smitten with him. 

Sanji danced his body into the light of the bar, sheepishly not meeting your gaze as he fished out his tobacco pouch from within his trouser pocket. He opened the bag, noticing a small quake in his fingers at the knowledge that now plagued him. What was he meant to do now? Act like he didn’t worship the ground you walked on? 

“Sweetheart, why don’t you give that to me and you take a sip of your coffee? I’ll roll you one,” you asked him, reaching your hand over and claiming his right wrist beneath your hand, “You must be tired after all that hand-whisking. You just sit back and enjoy your quarter. I’m on my halfa, and you deserve more time off your feet before we get absolutely railed by the service shift.”

At the term ‘absolutely railed’, Sanji’s mind was racing beyond its capacity. He couldn’t find an appropriate word in his mind to relay onto you in return, simply nodding in confirmation as he handed over his tobacco pouch before standing beside you and watching the ocean dance against the hull of the floating restaurant. 

As the sun hit his golden hair, dancing along the glow of his tired and overworked features, you couldn’t help but look at him in awe. The way his eyes closed with his smile as he took the first look at the design you had created for him with the foam, before pressing it to his lips and sipping at it. 

You were in love with Sanji.

Setting to work on rolling the cigarette with the wafer thin paper and setting the filter within the side, you placed some of the brown, dried leaves into the fold and rolled it. From the corner of your eye, you watched Sanji’s eyes float down to your lips as you darted your tongue out to dampen the paper. You could’ve sworn you heard a catch in his breath, and a small strangled groan halted within his throat; but surely you were mistaken. 

You presented him with the cigarette, placing the filter end within his lips for him and wordlessly asking if you could ignite the tip with your lighter. Sanji’s eyes watched you carefully, nodding his head to give you confirmation to flick your flint and ignite the flame for him. Your eyes softened, cradling the flame as you elevated it to his lips and doused the end with its light to burn through the paper tip at the end. 

“You work too hard, Ji,” you commented, a flick of the corner of your lip in a small smirk captivated his gaze further, “It’s made you silent. C’mon now,” you placed the lighter back within your pant pocket, “Where’s that flirty chef I love so much?” Sanji smiled, inhaling the nicotine-riddled smoke as he extended his lungs to capacity.

“I dunno, Dove,” He began on his exhale, eyes closed and head lulling as he savored the feeling, “Your flirty chef might need some convincing to come out and play. I have been pushing myself a bit more today, and I’m beginning to feel it in my bones.” You half-smiled at him, watching as he removed the cigarette and threw back the remainder of his coffee in his mouth and swigging it with one fell gulp.

“Oh, you poor dear,” you pouted, raising your hand up and pressing it gently on his shoulder, giving him a gentle squeeze, “What can I do to bring him back?” Sanji groaned at the feeling of contact on his aching muscles, unsure of what came over him to elicit such a wanton sound. Your eyes widened, watching as his face began to contort as he hung his head low, relishing in the contact. 

“Let me take some of the weight off?” you suggested, bringing up your other hand to cup his shoulders, maneuvering your body behind him and firmly rotating your thumbs against the meat of his shoulders, “Maybe then my flirty chef will come out to play.” More of those beautiful groans escaped his lips as he succumbed to the ministrations of your fingers, molding and bending his hardened flesh within your hands. 

Sanji’s sweet cries of bliss were addictive, more addictive to you than any meal he had presented to you in the months you had worked closely together. The way he cried out in bliss as you found a particularly tender point in the center of his shoulder blade had you gasp out breathily in response. He was a slave to your touch, leaning in as a stray cat would to an affectionate caress. 

His cigarette fell from his lips to litter the ground by his shoes, the light extinguishing upon impact and rolling beneath the deck chairs surrounding you. He curved and arched his back into your touch, moaning and crying out as quietly as he could muster, with his mouth agape and a small amount of saliva collecting at the corners of his rapidly drying lips. Sanji’s body was responding a little too well to the simple touch of your hands on his shoulders and back. 

“Y-You’re so good-... mmff-... at this. W-Where did you-... oh-h merde-... where did you learn it?” He asked, lulling his head back and inadvertently rested the back of his head against your shoulder while holding onto the railing firmly in his grasp. You giggled, moving your hands beneath his shoulders and coaxing him from the railing to one of the lounging chairs, secluded in the shade of the sails of the wide umbrellas. Although this area was a public space, the lounges were private enough to shield Sanji as he rapidly fell apart in your arms from prying eyes. 

“I just know how hard the muscles work to produce the food you do, Ji,” you shrugged, sitting down on the lounge chair and ushering him to sit between your legs with his back to you. Initially, Sanji desired to sit up, his back convexing in a perfect arch to experience more of your touch. But his body had other plans beneath your skilled hands. 

He immediately found a more relaxed version of his former position: his head lulling back into your right shoulder as his eyes fluttered shut, your hands now finding rest against his biceps and rotating them beneath your firm grip to work out the kinks. 

Sanji had no idea what had come over him. The sounds falling from his lips were desperate, his body pleading and crying for more of your touch as he fell apart from the simple strokes of your hands now trailing up to his chest. You couldn’t get enough, your hands responding faster than your mind could tell it not to in order to find places on his body to have the sweeter sounds of your name rolling off his tongue between gasps and groans.

“Y-You’re-... fuck Dove-... Th-This is really good,” his breathy gasp complimented you, ending with the small pull of a whine within his throat. You tried your hardest to stop the rising heat from flooding to your cheeks at his voice, opting to giggle to relieve some of the tension surfacing. 

“You’ve got maybe three minutes before you have to go back, Sanji,” you said, patting him politely on the chest to indicate you were done assaulting him with your affectionate caress. At the small pat, he groaned, chasing the weight of your palm atop his chest by arching his back and pleading with you to continue. 

“Just a bit more?” he whined, opening his eyes and lulling his head further into your shoulder to gaze up at you with wide eyes, “Your flirty chef will come back if you do it just a little bit longer, I’m certain.” He smiled with his lips in a tight line, eyes twinkling in hope up at you. You scrunched your nose up at him, your own eyes reflecting his playful twinkle back at him.

“Maybe after the rush?” You suggested with a shrug of your shoulders and another curt tap of his chest. He groaned, slouching down and melting into your torso with the drag of his head. You laughed at him as he continued slinking lower and finally settled his head against your thigh, feet brushing against the ground over the side of the lengthy deck chair you were sharing. 

“But that’s so far away,” he groaned, a raspy growl rumbling against his tone. He clapped his hand over his eyes, squeezing his palm and fingertips in the pinch of his eyes before having it fall away from his face and down to his side with a small gasp. 

“Makes the waiting all the sweeter,” you cooed down at him. At this, he immediately rose to a sitting position, turning within your lap and gazing at you. His irises were blown, the small tint of pink dusting his cheeks and his lips were slightly parted. There were a thousand unspoken words dancing behind his eyes. The mystery surrounding such a look had you hooked and leaning in to see if a closer proximity would grant you further insight. 

At the small lean of your body from the back of the deck chair, Sanji reached his palm up and cupped your cheek, his fingers lacing in your hair, as he guided your lips to be claimed beneath his. A small squeak exited your lips in shock at the gentleness of his touch, eyes wide and watching him as his brows furrowed. A small hum of his lips against yours informed you that he was as shocked about this as you were, but not shocked enough to end the kiss just yet.

He pried your lips apart with his own, tilting his head to nudge you with his chin. You hooked your arms around his neck, pulling him against yourself and reciprocated with enthusiasm; your tongue darting out to meet his own. He chuckled against your lips once he felt you relax into it, flicking his tongue against yours with a groan of appreciation. You nudged him away from you, breaking the meeting of his lips on yours and unhooked your arm from his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you commented, raising your arms up and fixing his ruffled hair. His eyes widened, brows peaking at the center as his lips parted. Focusing on redressing him and straightening up his uniform had your gaze pulled from his, unable to read the absolute heartbreak written all over his face. 

Nodding in appreciation at the straightening of his chefs jacket, you finally drew your smiling eyes up to meet his; immediately having your grin fall from your face once meeting with the sorrowful expression painted atop his features. 

“Ji, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you asked, cupping his cheek and darting your gaze between his two gray orbs. 

“We shouldn’t be doing this?” he whispered quietly, tilting his head down and gazing up at you through his eyelashes. Your eyes widened, smiling lips now falling open with a small shake of your head. 

Scrunching your nose, you leant forward and pressed a chaste kiss against his lips which ended with as much haste as it began. You giggled as you felt him chase his lips forward to halt your retraction, but ultimately got away from his approach. 

“I meant, you’ve only got about a minute left of your quarter,” you restated, confirming your words while elevating your hand to his chin. You brushed your thumb over his lower lip, dancing over his kiss-swollen lip with your digit. “We shouldn’t be doing this while we have so little time available for us to do so.” 

“O-Oh,” Sanji stuttered, the blush once again rising to dance over the apples of his cheeks, tips of his ears and button of his nose. You had never seen such a pretty color gracing his features, your heart swooning at the chef as he attempted to stifle his rising blush. 

“Has my flirty chef come back yet?” You asked him with a sly smile, retracting your hand from his face only to be caught within his own. 

“Your flirty chef,” he whispered, eyes holding firm to your own as he elevated your knuckles below his lips and pressing a gentle kiss against your skin, “Is going to be flirting with you for the rest of this shift,” he pressed another kiss against the back of your hand, slightly further up than the last, “And hopefully all through Before Service, Family Meal, and Knock Offs,” he uttered between a flurry of pecks and grazes of his lips further up your arm. 

Now it was your turn for the hues of warmth to swell beneath your cheeks, ears and nose at his words; becoming flustered further by the animal poised behind his eyes, threatening to ravish you with the intensity depicted beneath. He chuckled as he began showering your cheek with a further flutter of his lips grazing your skin. He halted just before meeting your lips with his, choosing to tease you with a small brush of his own. 

“I’m going to cook you something,” he whispered, his breath dancing against your lips, “And you’re going to make those pretty sounds you do so well, hm?” He nodded, pouting his lips and widening his eyes with that innocent yet mischievous twinkle you have come to enjoy him wearing. You couldn’t help but nod in response, mesmerized by the enchantment held within his eyes.

“And then,” he ushered you against the beck of the chair, pressing his torso against yours and continuing to hold his lips an eyelash’s width away from your own, “I’m going show you how flirty your flirty chef can really be.” As you attempted to chase his lips to plant another kiss against his own, he quickly stood to his feet at the call of his name.

“Sanji!” Patty called, “Your macarons are portioned and ready for the oven. Take care of ‘em, would you?” Your breath caught in your throat, Sanji’s blush dissipating at the interruption and his face paling.

“Alright, I’ll be there Patty! Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” he shouted in return, frustration written over his expression. 

“C’mon kid, we all know the only knickers you’re keen on seeing are the bartender’s!” He shouted in return, turning and stomping down the hallway towards the kitchen, “Get to it, Chef Zeff’s waiting.” Your eyes widened at the thought, your smirk withholding a small scream of bashful laughter from parting from your lips as your face drew a further flaming heat to it. 

Sanji waited a brief moment, inhaling a deep breath through his nose before removing his finger from your lips, tracing it down your chin and tilting your face to meet his eyes. His gaze was doing its best to disguise the horror of having the secret he thought he’d been withholding from surfacing. 

“I-I’m sorry,” he quickly stuttered, turning and immediately walking back to the kitchen with haste, the steam almost tangibly falling pouring from his ears as he stampeded away. You were too shocked to laugh, but a small giggle fell regardless. 

You could not wait until the rush of service was completed to get to experience the flirtatious fluster of the blond chef after shift hours. Perhaps to even continue what began against the deck chairs in a more quiet and intimate setting.

[andvys]

I knew you'd linger like a tattoo kiss | part 21

Warnings: none really, the tiniest amount of angst, mentions of insecurities and jealousy, allusions to an ED. Proofread but poorly, if you saw any mistakes... no you didn't

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

Summary: You and Eddie pay Steve and Robin a visit at Scoops Ahoy.

Word count: 5.3k+

A/N: @hellfire--cult I added the ice cream scene we talked about, I hope you like it hehe

series masterlist

-

Eddie is looking out the window, sipping on the coffee he just made. The rain paddles down the windows, thunder rumbling softly in the distance. The light summer storms had always been his favorite, for some reason it always gave him an odd sense of comfort.

He didn’t sleep last night. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw the tears in your eyes, the ones that he had caused. He felt so guilty, he still feels guilty. He was scared, jealous and worried. The fear of losing you pushed him to behave so horribly towards you. The fear of losing you to him. Eddie had always wondered what would happen if you let Steve back into your life, it scared him because he knew, he knows that he holds nothing to Steve. 

He thought that it was already happening, that he was already losing you and it hurt. He got defensive and he hurt you without realizing it. 

The sound of footsteps pulls him out of his thoughts, he looks back, blood rushes to his cheeks and his eyes widen. He halts every movement, hand frozen mid air as he was just about to take another sip of the steaming hot coffee. 

He was just about to greet you with one of his cheeky smiles but, it’s not you who just walked down the stairs. It’s your mom – who he thought was already at work. 

Just like him, she halts in her tracks and looks at the metalhead in surprise. She is already in her scrubs, a bag thrown over her shoulder and a tired look on her face. 

If Eddie wasn’t in just his boxers and a shirt, he would’ve been less embarrassed. 

She chuckles when she notices how embarrassed he looks, she walks into the kitchen, shaking her head in amusement. 

“Good morning, Eddie.”

“M-Morning,” Eddie stammers, scratching the back of his neck, he places the mug on the kitchen counter. 

He feels awkward. It’s not the first time that he slept over but he usually never ran into your mom in the mornings.

“You’re up early,” she says, seemingly not surprised about your little slumber party. She reaches for her favorite mug in the cupboard, she turns around, glancing at Eddie, “couldn’t sleep?” 

He shakes his head at her, watching as she prepares her coffee. 

“The storm woke me up.”

She nods and furrows her brows as she takes a sip. 

“Are you kids doing anything fun today?” 

Eddie’s lips twitch. He is convinced that your mom will always call you ‘kids’. 

“Nah, I don’t think so,” he shrugs, “we might get some food at Benny’s later.”

“That’s nice, enjoy your last free day before tomorrow,” she says in amusement. Both you and Eddie are starting your full time jobs tomorrow. 

Eddie groans, closing his eyes for a moment. 

“From teenage hell to adult hell,” Eddie mumbles.

She laughs, shaking her head at him.

“Oh Eddie, it won’t be that bad, you’ve worked with cars before and you loved it every time, didn’t you?” 

“I mean, yeah.”

“See, it’s going to be fine. – Well, I’m going to my ‘adult hell’ now,” she jokes as she makes her way out of the kitchen but then halts in her tracks. Eddie straightens up when she turns around, now with a more serious look on her face. 

“Thank you, Eddie.”

He tilts his head, not quite understanding what she is thanking him for. 

She notices the confusion in his eyes. 

“I don’t know what would’ve happened if she didn’t have you – after her and Steve broke up, you know?” 

Eddie’s eyes soften. He nods his head slowly.

“You make her happy.” 

He looks down at his cup. He is happy to hear that, though the guilt from treating you so badly yesterday, still lingers deep inside. 

“O-Oh and Eddie, I really don’t want to have to tell you this but, please use protection, my daughter is too young to have a baby.” 

Eddie almost chokes on the sip of coffee he just swallowed. His eyes widen, his jaw drops and he stares at the awkward look on your mom’s face. 

“Ma’am! We are not – it’s not like that!” 

She raises her brows. Now, she is tilting her head at him. 

“It’s not.. Wait –” her eyes widen when she takes in the sight of his flustered face, “are you two not.. dating?” 

“Excuse me?” Eddie laughs, nervously. 

She is quiet, for the longest two minutes, she is quiet and stares at Eddie in genuine confusion. She seems to think over every moment she has seen you with Eddie. 

He would have laughed if he wasn’t so flustered. 

She shakes her head and mumbles some incoherent words under her breath. She clutches her purse tighter against her body. By the look on her face, Eddie already knows that you will be having an awkward conversation later with your mom. 

“Nevermind,” she laughs, waving at him, “I gotta go. Have a nice day.” 

She rushes out before he can even form a sentence. 

“You too,” Eddie mumbles. 

A sigh falls from his lips when he hears the front door shutting. His brows knit together and he just now notices that his heart is racing in his chest. All this time, your mom thought that you were dating. 

Should he be surprised? 

Most people think that about you two. Benny. The old couple that sat in the booth behind you the other day. Your boss at the record store, Dustin and Uncle Wayne. And now, your mom too. 

Why? 

Is it because a friendship between a male and a female is so unusual? 

Is it because you two are close? Closer than friends should be? 

Is it because of the way he looks at you?

“Good morning.”

Your voice pulls Eddie out of his thoughts, he looks up to find you standing in the doorway. A tired look on your face, lips puffy and hair falling down your shoulders messily, a big shirt hanging loosely on your frame. Fuck. You look cute. 

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You give him a small smile and make your way over to the coffee pot when you smell the freshly brewed coffee. 

“You made coffee? You’re the best, Ed’s,” you say with a tired and groggy voice. 

His heart skips a beat. It’s not the first time that he gets to see you like this. You have spent many mornings together, yet, something feels different. 

“I’m so glad you stayed over, last night. Slumber parties with you are always fun.”

“You just loved using me as your doll,” he jokes. 

You scrunch your face up, turning around to look at him. There are still a few braids in his hair, traces of the black eyeliner that you draw on his eyelids, he got a little too dramatic when soap got into his eyes after he tried to wash it off again. 

A giggle falls from your lips, “not like you didn’t like it,” you say into your cup as you take a sip. 

Eddie saw it, the cheeky smirk that crossed your face, only for a second, but he saw it. 

He would be lying if he said that he didn’t like it. 

Last night, he was scared that things would be awkward after the way he treated you all day. You had every right to be mad at him, to give him the cold shoulder but you didn’t. Instead, you hugged him, even kissed his cheek and apologized in case you did something that upset him, after all. He didn’t want that. He didn’t want you to apologize. You had no reason to apologize but somehow you completely dismissed it when he told you that. You ‘easily’ moved on from the cold shoulder he gave you all day, you took his hand and led him downstairs and pretended that everything was fine. 

You were desperate to keep the peace. 

That’s how it worked in your relationship with Steve. You wanted peace during war. The moment he laid down the invisible weapons he hurt you with, you were quick to jump into his arms, submitting to him without considering the other option – walk away and never look back, something that you should have done to protect yourself and your fragile heart. 

Eddie doesn’t want you to do the same you did with Steve. He doesn’t want you to submit just to keep the peace. You are allowed to be upset and to show him that. You have a voice, just like he does and he wants you to know that. 

That is something you still have to learn.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asks, unable to hide the grin on his face. 

You shrug, biting your bottom lip, “nothing.”

You look at him from beneath your lashes, acting innocent, like you didn’t straddle his waist to draw the lines on his eyelids, last night.

“Are you planning to go home anytime soon?” 

“Are you trying to kick me out?” He chuckles. 

“Yes,” you joke as you make your way over to him, “of course not. I was thinking that we could just watch movies all day, maybe get some food later?”

You stop in front of him and he can’t help but stare at you. The way you clutch the mug to your chest, the way you stand there in the big shirt that definitely belongs to him – you must’ve stolen it after a sleepover at his place. You look at him with the cutest smile he had ever seen. Shit. 

He reaches for your hand, pulling you closer, instinctively. 

“I’d love to spend my last day of freedom with you,” he says dramatically. 

You roll your eyes, laughing. 

“Always so dramatic, Eddie. But, I’d love to spend my last day of freedom with you too.” 

“Perfect,” he smiles at you, “let’s start with breakfast.”

“Pancakes?” 

“Pancakes.” 

-

The new record store at the mall is smaller than the old one in town, it’s much more crowded and there is less space – much less space but for some reason, it appears cozier this way. The lights are dim, making the store much darker than all the other ones in the mall, string lights hang from the ceiling and posters of bands and singers decorate the gray walls. 

You’ve been stacking up records for the past few hours, desperately counting down the hours till lunch break. It’s not that you aren’t used to working but a full time job is definitely different from part time, after school a few days a week.

You are grateful for your boss though, a middle aged man – a retired ‘rockstar’ who had taken a great liking to Eddie, you’re not surprised. He is nice, very laid back and he allows you to choose the music that always plays in the background. You can wear whatever you want and don’t have to worry about any work uniforms. 

The bell above the door rings, you don’t turn around to see who it is, assuming that it’s another customer. 

“Excuse me, miss, you don’t happen to have the new Metallica album do you?” 

A smile tugs at your lips, you place the last record into the shelf before you turn around. 

“Miss, really?” You giggle. 

Eddie stands in front of you with a teasing grin. Hands behind his back, hair pulled into a low bun, a few strands falling out of the hair tie. He is wearing a red and black flannel, the sleeves bunched up at his elbows. Your eyes stop at his tattoos as always. You swallow. 

“Where’s your sexy work uniform?” You tease. 

Eddie chuckles, leaning against the counter, he eyes you, “I don’t have one yet – besides, they let me sit at the front desk, can you believe that?” 

“Wait what? You’re the hot secretary now?” You tease, walking towards him, “the wives better hide their husbands.” 

A laugh falls from his lips and he scrunches his face up in disgust, “you mean the grumpy mechanics who don’t let me do shit?” 

You frown. 

“Lee – I mean, Wayne’s friend, the dude who hired me wasn’t in today and the other’s apparently know my dad so, they weren’t exactly happy to see me there. They don’t trust me.”

Eddie doesn’t look sad about it, more so annoyed. 

You roll your eyes and scoff, “those stinky old assholes.”

He laughs, eyes lighting up in amusement. 

“Do you want me to kick their asses? Cause you know, I will.”

He takes your hand, pulling you towards him, “oh you will, huh? Gonna get into trouble for little old me?” He smirks. 

You nod, looking up at him through your lashes, “I will, yeah.”

“Lee will be back tomorrow, he’ll let me work.”

You nod. 

“Well, if they know your dad then they also gotta know that he was good with cars at least, right?” You ask, shrugging.

He nods, rolling his eyes, “yeah but, I don’t think they remember him for that. They just remember him for the shit he stole while he still worked there, oh and the money he took from the cash register.”

“The cash register at the front desk?”

“Yeah.”

“So… they do trust you, Eddie. Otherwise they wouldn’t trust you around the cash register if they thought that you’re anything like your dad – which, you could never be, by the way.” 

Eddie’s lips lift into a smile.

“You’re Wayne’s boy, they know that. Hell, even Steve’s dad called you Wayne’s boy.”

His eyes widen, “wait, he did?” 

“Yeah! When I was over for dinner at Steve’s place, you know, back in december?”

He nods.

“I told them about you and when I told them your name, his dad called you Wayne’s boy – he knew your dad too, by the way. He still called you Wayne’s boy.”

Eddie always thought that the Munson name was a curse. Most people know him as his father’s son – something he can’t stand. He doesn’t want to be like him, ever. People always hated him for things that he never did. Not only did they accuse him of things that his father did, they also made up stories about him, the rumors he heard about himself, made him physically sick sometimes.

If he wasn’t a satanist or a criminal, he was that ‘good for nothing Munson kid’. 

He had always worried about what people thought of him, as much as he didn’t want to admit it, he always worried. Especially when it came to you but, you never made him feel like that, like he’s ‘good for nothing’. You made him feel like he is someone. Someone who matters, someone who can be more than just that Munson kid. Someone who is special. 

“You’re the best Munson – don’t tell Wayne I said that.” 

He chuckles at your words but looks down at you with softened eyes. Your opinion matters the most to him. 

“You are so hardworking, Eddie, always helping your uncle and doing everything you can to make the people around you happy. Taking me out and buying me stuff even though you don’t have to! Not that I don’t love the things you get me,” you gesture to the rings on your fingers, making him smile. “I guess, what I’m trying to say is, you’re amazing and you are good. You’re nothing like your dad.”

You always get to him like no one else can. Even with just a few simple words, you touch his soul in a way no one else ever did – no one else ever will. Not only do you give him comfort and reassurance without needing to, after all, you’re just friends, you don’t owe him reassurance but you do it naturally. 

“Shit, sweetheart, are you trying to make me cry on my lunch break?” He jokes. 

“Of course not.”

You smile up at him with big eyes, that alone, gives him that nervous tingle, again. 

You know that he still feels bad for how he treated you last Saturday. You don’t want him to. He apologized, he made you breakfast, took you to Family Video, bought you ice cream and apologized about ten times. You know that he regrets it. You know that it won’t happen again, that he won’t do it again. 

“No making out while you’re on the clock, young lady.”

You pull away from Eddie to look at your boss. He is holding a clipboard in his hands, his glasses low on the bridge of his nose, he looks at you with a straight face, though you can see the amusement in his eyes when he notices the panicked look on your face. 

“We’re not–”

“How’s it going, rockstar?” He asks, flashing Eddie a smile as he walks behind the counter, placing the clipboard down, he takes his glasses off. 

“Good, I’m just here to check out the new store,” Eddie says, lying. “Been meaning to buy the new Metallica album.”

“You ain’t fooling anyone, boy. You already bought it when we were still downtown.” 

Eddie chuckles, scratching the back of his neck, “ah shit, you got a good memory don’t you?”

Rufus crosses his arms over his chest, chuckling, “I do.” He looks at you, “do you wanna go on break now?”

“I’m not done with the records–”

“It’s fine, you finish that later, you’ve been stacking them up all morning, go eat something, kid.” 

“I won’t say no to do that,” you chuckle. 

You get your purse from the backroom and take off your name tag before you leave the store with Eddie. Even though it’s only 2pm, the mall is already crowded. 

“I’m so excited to see Steve and Robin in their uniforms.”

“Are you really ready to see them? I bet Steve is wearing booty shorts.” 

You giggle and step closer to Eddie when a group of boys walks past you. Eddie places his hand on your back when you press your side against his. 

“Do you wanna get some pizza first?”

“Uh no, I’ve been thinking about ice cream all day!” 

He looks down at you skeptically, “did you eat breakfast, at least?”

You give him an innocent smile, “yes?”

“Sweetheart,” he mumbles, his smile slipping. “You didn’t have any breakfast?”

“I had coffee.”

“That’s not breakfast!” 

“I wasn’t hungry – oh look, Scoops Ahoy!” 

He gives you a disapproving look and takes your hands in his before you can walk into the store, he turns you towards him. 

“We can go eat something first if you’re hungry,” you say. 

He smiles at you, shaking his head, “no, I’m not hungry, right now.”

“We can get takeout later?” You offer with a smile on your face, “you can pick where to go.”

“Nah, you can pick, sweetheart.”

You look into his brown eyes, you feel the warmth of his hand, he is looking at you, he is looking at you in a way that makes you feel seen. He had always looked at you that way, right from the start. You were unaware of the feeling that was going on inside of you, you were too focused on the pain. But now, now you feel. 

You squeeze his hand, his lips twitch, something else takes over his face, something that makes your heart race. 

Here you are, standing in the middle of the bustling mall, ignoring everything that is happening around you. 

You’re holding his hand, standing close, you’re looking at each other, you are looking into his eyes as he traces every inch of your face with his eyes. 

“Out of the way, lovebirds.”

You both furrow your brows and tear your eyes away from each other, looking down to find Erica Sinclair glaring at you with an ice cream cone in her hand, her friends standing behind her, with similar looks on their faces. 

“You are blocking the way!” She says, pointing her finger at you. 

“Hello to you too, baby Sinclair,” Eddie says, knowing that it will piss her off. 

She narrows her eyes at him, looking him up and down with a glare before she looks at you. 

“I’m sorry, Lady Applejack, didn’t mean to block your passage,” you chuckle. 

You and Eddie step out of the way, looking at each other in amusement when she glares at you both before walking away with her friends. 

“Such a mean girl.”

“Mean in a cool way,” Eddie says, chuckling. 

“Definitely,” you snort. 

You let go of his hand when you walk into the shop, you look around, a few tables are occupied but the shop is mostly empty. When you look over at the counter, you see him, Steve, who ‘subtly’ took his hat off and threw it on the ground the moment you walked in. 

You only see half of his outfit as he is still behind the counter, yet, you can’t help but giggle, not because of the shirt but because of the pink cheeks, he is embarrassed. 

Robin comes out of the backroom just as you walk up to the counter with Eddie by your side. 

She halts in her tracks.

Eddie stares at her and Steve with raised brows, taking in the sight of their uniforms. 

“Damn Buckley,” Eddie chuckles, looking her outfit up and down in amusement, “you ready to set sail?”

You giggle at the annoyed look on her face. 

“Has Ch– your crush seen you like this yet?” He teases her. 

“Who’s your crush?” Steve asks. 

“None of your business, Dingus,” she scoffs with flushed cheeks. 

“Steve, show me your whole outfit,” you giggle.

Steve sighs, hazel eyes filled with embarrassment as he walks around the counter. He rolls his eyes and runs his fingers through his hair again before he gestures to his whole outfit – the short shorts. 

“Ta da!” He mumbles, mockingly. 

Eddie snorts, “damn Harrington, turn around, show us the booty shorts from the back.”

“Dude,” Steve mumbles with a frown on his face, causing Eddie to laugh. 

“I don’t know, the shorts are kinda doing it for me.”

All three of them turn to look at you with surprised looks on their faces. Eddie’s brows are raised. Robin tilts her head at you and Steve looks flustered. 

You turn away from him with a giggle. Taking a step closer to the counter, you take a look at all the different ice cream flavors. You lick your lips, “so.. can I get some ice cream?”

Robin glances at Steve, who nods his head, “s-sure!” 

He walks around her, reaching for the scooper in his pocket, he flashes you a small smile, “so uh, what flavor do you want?” 

“Hmm, I don’t know, surprise me!” 

He smiles at you, loving the way your eyes are lit up as you look at all the flavors. You look happy again. He wondered how you felt after what happened with Eddie, he contemplated on giving you a call just to check on you but he didn’t want to cross any boundaries. 

He glances at Eddie, wondering how he is feeling after the way he behaved towards you. Steve always felt guilty, yet he kept repeating the same mistakes over and over again. He knows that Eddie won’t do the same thing he did, he saw the look in his eyes, the regret and the guilt when he finally realized how much he hurt you. Eddie would never do this to you again but neither would he – if he could turn back time, everything would be different. 

He hands you the ice cream cone. 

“U.S.S Butterscotch for the lady,” he grins. 

“Thanks sailor,” you giggle as you take the cone from his hand. 

“I’ll be right back,” you hear Robin say, stopping her conversation with Eddie, she goes back into the backroom.

“Oh, that’s good!”

Steve chuckles at the excited look in your eyes after trying the ice cream. 

“You like it?” Steve asks, smiling as he watches you eat. 

You nod, “mhmm, I’m gonna be here every lunch break.”

Steve’s eyes light up, this will be the highlight of every day here. Maybe, this job won’t suck after all. 

“Eddie, you need to try some of this!”

You turn to him, smiling happily. 

He chuckles, not at the excited look on your face but at the ice cream on the corner of your mouth. He doesn’t even think before he stretches his hand out to cup your cheek, using his thumb to get the ice cream off your lip. 

It’s something he had done before, hell, it’s something that you have done before. Yet, it feels different. His touch feels different. It makes your heart flutter. 

You stand frozen in place, staring at him wide eyed with a blush on your cheeks. You watch how he licks the ice cream off his thumb, humming at the taste of it. 

When he finally notices how you look at him, he grows flustered as well. His heart skips a beat when he sees how flustered you are but he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you. He stares at you and you stare at him. 

And Steve looks between the two of you with an annoyed look on his face. He clenches his jaw and rolls his eyes. The bitter taste on his tongue almost becomes too overwhelming. 

He claps his hands together to pull you two out of whatever trance you are both in. He's annoyed and jealous.

You and Eddie flinch at the loud noise, you two blink, cheeks growing hotter. 

He clears his throat and you look down at the ice cream. 

“So, what do you want, Eddie?” Steve asks, giving him a fake smile as he points to all the ice cream flavors. 

Eddie’s heart is racing and he is far from feeling calm. The blush is clearly very visible on his cheeks, otherwise Steve wouldn’t stare at his cheeks that way. 

“Give me a few samples, man,” Eddie smirks. 

“Of course, the fucking samples,” Steve mumbles as he reaches for one of the sampling spoon. “Alright dude, what do you want?” He sighs. 

A smug look appears on Eddie’s face when he sees the annoyance in Steve’s eyes. 

“Let’s start with the boring ones,” he chuckles, “give me the strawberry one, please.”

Eddie tilts his head to the side, giving Steve a smile that makes you laugh. You lean against the counter and watch the two of them. How Steve scoops up some of the strawberry ice cream and hands Eddie the tiny spoon. 

“There you go,” Steve mumbles. 

“Thanks dude.”

You lick your ice cream, watching Eddie try the pink ice cream. 

Steve places both hands on his counter, rolling his eyes at Eddie before he looks at you. Watching you. 

The windows behind him slide open and Robin looks out, smirking at you. 

“You guys wanna know what Steve said to one of our customers earlier?” She asks, “or better yet, how he tried to flirt?”

You raise your brows. 

You aren’t surprised to hear that he is flirting with girls again, but the feeling inside of you is still an unpleasant one. You don’t want him. You really don’t want him anymore but you are not in control of your feelings. You can’t help but feel that sour taste on your tongue.

Steve groans, closing his eyes, he pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“Don’t. I wasn’t flirting!” 

He really wasn’t flirting, yet, he still glances at you, wanting to know how you react to the news of him ‘flirting’. You instantly break eye contact and look down. If he didn’t know any better, he would think that you are jealous. 

“Oh no no, do tell us what he said,” Eddie says, throwing the spoon into the little trash can, “give me the cinnamon one now.”

Steve sighs, “yeah yeah.”

“What did he say, Robin?” 

Steve looks back at Robin, shaking his head at her, mouthing, ‘please don’t.’

She just gives him another smug smile before she clears her throat. 

“Ahoy ladies! Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavor with me? I’ll be your captain, I’m Steve H–”

“Robin!” Steve groans, turning around to glare at her after handing Eddie another sample.

You and Eddie burst into laughter, both at the deep voice she mocked and at the words that apparently spilled from his lips earlier. He reaches for one of the bananas on the counter, throwing it at her but she slides the windows shut again before it can hit her. 

“King Steve is Captain Steve now,” you giggle. 

He turns around, glaring at you with flushed cheeks. 

“Harrington, saying you will take them into an ocean of flavor is not the way.”

Steve clenches his jaw, glaring at the metalhead who leans down, placing his elbows on the counter. The smug look on his face, the smirk and amusement in his eyes is making him angry. 

“Now, can I try the… banana boat?” 

At his choice, Steve smirks and nods. He reaches for another spoon from the little bowl, scooping some of the ice cream on it, he holds it out to him but before Eddie can reach for the spoon, he puts it up to his mouth. Eddie frowns in confusion, he opens his mouth but before he can say anything, Steve sticks the spoon into his mouth, catching him off guard. 

“Is that enough flavor for you, Munson?” 

Your eyes widen and you raise your hand towards your lips, holding a giggle back at the shocked look on Eddie’s face. 

Eddie pulls back and throws the spoon away. 

“Nope,” he mumbles and turns away, walking out of the shop with a flustered look on his face. You watch him, you know that he won’t actually leave, but clearly he got embarrassed by this. 

Steve’s lips are pulled into a smirk. 

You turn back to him with raised brows. 

“I’m not taking flirting advice from someone that blushes when he gets fed. Jesus christ..”

“You should feed him more often,” you giggle. 

Steve crosses his arms over his chest, “he would fall in love with me, better not.”

You roll your eyes at him, “you wish.”

“Don’t get jealous now, I wonder what would happen if I fed him a chocolate covered banana.”

“Steve!” 

He laughs at the look on your face. 

“You’re a pervert,” you mumble.

“Yeah, you love me though.”

The moment those words leave his lips and he sees the stunned look on your face, he freezes and so do you. His eyes widen, a nervous laugh falls from his lips. 

Neither of you say anything, you just stare at each other, awkwardly. 

“Dingus! You need to bring in the shipment from outside!” Robin yells, opening the windows again. 

He closes his eyes and sighs, turning around with an angry look on his face. 

“Why can’t you do it?!”

“I’m weak!” She lies. 

“They’re not that heavy, they’re fucking sprinkles, Robin.”

She gives him a small smile, holding her hands up before she walks back. 

He sighs, “alright, I got it.”

“Yeah uh, I gotta go,” you mumble, looking down at your ice cream to avoid looking at him. 

“Okay uh – see you tomorrow?” 

You hear the hope in his voice and you see it in his eyes too when you lift your chin to look at him. 

“Y-Yeah.”

“Okay,” he smiles.

“Bye.”

“Bye y/n.”

You give him a small smile. A smile that is enough to make everything in him feel lighter, better, happier. His heart feels alive at every glance you give him, every smile you flash him is enough to heal his heart piece by piece. 

But every time you leave, the sadness creeps back in. 

You leave the store and look around for Eddie, a smile appears on your face when you spot him. You walk away, disappearing from his view. 

His shoulders slump and he blinks as he looks down, sighing. 

Steve knows that he might never get you back, not the way he has you, at least. But as long as you wear the locket around your neck, as long as you still smile at him, as long as you still appear in his life. 

There is still hope, right?

next chapter

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tagging friends and mutuals

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