#i knew that id never see them again... i was right...

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

i need to share the absolute fucking Experience i had playing minecraft tonight. i'm gonna be emotional about it for days

so me and my friends like to play on this server that's pretty much just a bunch of minigames. one of them is Murder Mystery - of a group of - i think its 13/14 people - one person is randomly selected as the murderer (spawns with a sword), the other as the sheriff (spawns with a bow). the rest are innocent. the innocents can gain a bow by collecting coins. no one knows anyone's status unless the player shows their sword/bow. i'm doing a quest where, in order to get points, i need to kill the murderer.

so as the game start countdown begins, me and my pal are checking out this Red Link skin. it's pretty neat! we're all crouching and punching at each other, as one does. i feel a connection form with Red Link. we're buddies now. we're in this together.

so we're all running around the map. every time i see Red Link, we crouch and punch at each other. the game is going fine, we're having fun. i'm delighted that i've made a one-game friend.

then my friend says that Red Link is the murderer, and i literally have a hard time believing it. Red Link? my Red Link? no, they must be mistaken. we were together at the start. they had ample opportunities to kill me. it can't be Red Link. but whoever the murderer killed was the sheriff, and i needed to complete the quest - picking up the sheriff tombstone grants me the bow.

so i run, trying to find it, and i turn the corner.

there Red Link was, standing at the end of the hall, by the tombstone, with a sword in hand. i froze. i was so upset - not Red Link! not my dear companion! i was so sure that was it.

but i walked forward anyway, thinking that maybe if i dodged around them, grabbed the bow, and turned and shot fast enough, i could get them. the thought was actually distressing! Red Link didn't put the sword away. they watched me slowly approach. we stood on either side of the tombstone, and i expected Red Link to cut me down. i was well within reach of their sword.

Red Link calmly, still looking at me, moved to the side and past me. i panicked and grabbed the bow, ran to the corner, turned and drew - Red Link was already at the other end of the hall, running away. i didn't want to shoot, but i needed the kill - who knows when i'd get an opportunity to complete the quest again. it's a tough one.

i missed, thank fuck, but man. i was in shock. i thought i was a goner.

then, after the game where awards are given - the murderer, who killed them, who collected the most coins - i went up to Red Link and crouched. they crouched back.

then they left the game.

[insipid-drivel]

Baby Boomers had a cinnamon challenge they won’t talk about that may be the reason why toothpick-chewers in classic movies are seen as cool

My mother is 65 and right bang in the middle of the Baby Boomer generation, but she’s very cool and does her best to be and stay woke, keep up with shifts in vernacular, and takes care to do things like make sure she’s strict with getting pronouns correct, etc. Her meme game is a little lagging, and she only just discovered the cinnamon challenge. I was surprised to see her... not surprised. If anything, she seemed a bit pleased and said, “Yep, kids are still kids.”

I stared at her for a while. “What do you mean?” I asked her. She’s seen other ancient memes like planking and never had that reaction before. Seeing the cinnamon challenge was downright satisfying to her.

She looked me dead in the face and said, “Sweetheart, I grew up in a time when you could get crystal meth over the counter at the pharmacy. They were called diet pills then.”

“Whaaaaaaat.” I knew that Nazi Germany passed meth around like candy, but that was in the 30′s and 40′s. I had just figured it had been prohibited already in America by the time my mom was growing up. “Did you have a cinnamon challenge or something in school?” I finally asked.

She half-nodded and half-shrugged and said, “Similar. You couldn’t have candy or gum in school when I was growing up. It was about 1969 in San Francisco and parents were starting to limit cigarette smoking to kids under 18, too, so a lot of my school friends were squirming all day long with nothing to at least chew on.”

“What did they do instead, mom?” I asked suspiciously, because she would not bring this subject up after I had explained to her that the cinnamon challenge was dangerous because of how horrible it is to accidentally inhale it into your airways.

“Well... Back when I was in school, you could get cinnamon extract from the pharmacy. It was just cinnamon suspended in canola oil, and you could use it for cooking or treating a skin fungus. Stuff like that,” she explained. “So the boys at my school would take toothpicks and dip them in the cinnamon extract. That’s why chewing on a toothpick was so common back then. If you were trying to quit smoking or couldn’t have chewing gum, you could carry a little bottle of flavor extract about the size of a bottle of nail polish in your pocket and dip a toothpick in it. Then you’d have something to chew on that the teachers hadn’t banned, and you could hide them in your cheek easily.”

“So what did the boys at your school get into, mother?” I asked again. We were still on the topic of ridiculous memes. This had to go somewhere.

She smirked. “Well, after a while, the boys started noticing that the cinnamon extract from the pharmacy was spicy. It burned. So it started to get to be a challenge to see how many cinnamon toothpicks you could hold in your mouth at once. It got so bad that kids would get blisters and burns on their mouths from it, and you could tell if someone had a few of them tucked in their cheek in class because their face would turn red from the neck up like a cartoon.”

“Why have I never heard about this?”

She wasn’t done. “Finally, the teachers figured out what everyone was doing and it became a pretty big deal. Cinnamon extract started getting banned or restricted to adults. Then they banned toothpicks for sale to anyone under 18, too. That’s why it was a sign of being cool, particularly among guys, to walk around with a toothpick in your mouth. It either meant you had a fake ID or that you were 18.”

I stared at her for a long time. “Mom, why didn’t they just use hot sauce? It was California. Didn’t you have peppers?”

Without missing a beat, my 65-year-old mother replied, “Honey, we were white as fuck.”

[astonmartinii]

peas in a pod | oscar piastri social media au

pairing: oscar piastri x fem!russell!reader

y/n and george russell may be twins, but they’re hardly two peas in a pod and oscar is just there for the ride

MASTERLIST | TIPS

yourusername

liked by georgerussell63, oscarpiastri and 602,344 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: are you alex’s appendix cause you make me wanna bust 😩

view all comments

user1: excuse me 😀

user2: sometimes i’m like yeah george and y/n are defo twins and then she says shit like this and i’m like they can’t be related

alexalbon: erm what is is ?

yourusername: gosh so other people can use your appendicitis for a seat but i can’t use it to appreciate my boyf - PC gone crazy

alexalbon: the only censorship you’ll need is when my foot is up your ass

yourusername: i’d love to see you try i’ll put you back in the hospital

alexalbon: you say that but when i woke up in hospital you were crying your eyes out begging me to never do that again 🤨

yourusername: i was CHANNELLING GEORGE OBVIOUSLY

oscarpiastri: she cried about it for a good week after alex dw she loves you really

yourusername: TURNCOAT say goodbye to your bedtime privileges

georgerussell63: okay we’ll stop right there, y/n is sorry for joking about your appendicitis alex, and y/n we will not be discussing extracurricular activities with oscar. thank you.

user3: what about the people who want to hear about the extracurriculars? and maybe want to … see them?

yourusername: @oscarpiastri how do you think mclaren would feel about an onlyfans?

oscarpiastri: i think it’ll be a hard no

yourusername: ugh boring

user4: y/n talking about an onlyfans whereas i don’t believe george has even seen a naked woman

oscarpiastri: i love you and your dumb fucking pick up lines

yourusername: what do you mean i’m literally the reincarnation of william shakespeare?

georgerussell63: more like e l james

yourusername: i knew it was you who stole my copy of 50 shades GIVE IT BACK

yourusername: anyhow … i love you too babe x

user5: every comment section we learn new y/n russell lore and it shocks me everytime

oscarpiastri

liked by landonorris, yourusername and 734,513 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: in this house i guess we celebrate hit tweets? happy one year anniversary to the alpine breakup

view all comments

user6: CAKE SCARED ME FOR A SEC I WON'T LIE

yourusername: i think the technical term is “stunting on these hoes”

oscarpiastri: for pr reasons i will not be agreeing

yourusername: @ otmar HE BROKE I’M UP

oscarpiastri: you’re going to get me into even more trouble than that tweet did

yourusername: blame me and tell them to meet me in the car park, no weapons just fists

oscarpiastri: maybe let’s not

yourusername: you don’t wanna be my sexy ring girl? :(

georgerussell63: one day of not threatening people is all i ask for

yourusername: you weren’t saying that when i beat that year 13 guy’s ass in year ten for picking on you 🤨

georgerussell63: well yes but needs must

oscarpiastri: sorry george i’m siding with y/n she’s not afraid to tell the waiter they got my order wrong

landonorris: and she can square up to the people who won’t leave us alone in clubs

georgerussell63: okay i get it damn

yourusername: SMASH

alexalbon: you can’t let anything be normal can you?

yourusername: since you wanna be in my business… lily is a smash too

alexalbon: excuse me?

yourusername: let it be known if i weren’t already with the love of my life, id steal your girl

lilymunhe: oh wow … umm ☺️😳

alexalbon: OSCAR DO SOMETHING

oscarpiastri: idk bro im focusing on being called the love of y/n’s life

user7: silly season was so boring this year thank the lord we have y/n to cause chaos

georgerussell63: do not encourage her

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, oscarpiastri and 823,410 others

tagged: oscarpiastri

yourusername: you think i look bad, you should see the other girl. don’t touch men without their consent - and definitely don’t touch my man or you will be dealt with. trust.

view all comments

user8: someone leaked the video and omg that girl has hands

user9: she did NAWT hold back omg

oscarpiastri: i love you, thank you for defending my honour

yourusername: i love you too, i’d protect you with my life but don’t get it twisted, i’d throw hands for anyone

oscarpiastri: no but for real i’m very thankful for you standing up for me

user10: why is everyone praising this? all this shows me is that piastri is a pussy that needs his gross girlfriend to stand up for him?

yourusername: i’m going to stop you right there. that girl thought she could touch a man without his consent, and it’s completely out of order. so she was handed the consequences. oscar couldn’t do anything so it fell into my hands. you are the problem, do not talk down to him or other victims in those situations.

georgerussell63: as much as i joke, im glad you and oscar have each other.

yourusername: thank you georgie

oscarpiastri: thanks george, but your sister is the real knight in shining armour here

yourusername: i'll always save you princess 👸

alexalbon: everyone is being very sentimental but YO I KNEW YOU SAID YOU HAD HANDS BUT DAMN

user11: alex spill how brutal was it?

alexalbon: i had a front seat and it was like prime anthony joshua she was NOT playing

yourusername: oh wow that’s a big statement

alexalbon: i don’t wanna sound unprofessional but it was honestly crazy and i am so impressed y/n should really consider combat sports

yourusername: in my defence she just fully turned in on my fist

georgerussell63: okay normal service resumed she's making fun of me again :(

user12: why are we celebrating violence?

user13: people have no respect for the drivers these days, just because you’re in the same club as them does not mean that you’re entitled to harass them ??? you fuck around you’re going to find out… esp when y/n is around LOL

oscarpiastri

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername and 1,023,444 others

tagged: yourusername

oscarpiastri: so a lot has happened. i don't want to give the girl any more attention. i love my girlfriend and i love how much she loves me. cry more.

view all comments

user14: OOP HE GAGGED THE HOES

georgerussell63: "cry more" y/n has clearly been rubbing off on you

yourusername: i can assure you i've done much more than just rub off on him

georgerussell63: NO NO STOP RIGHT THERE MISSY

oscarpiastri: to be fair you walked right into that one george

georgerussell63: introducing you two really is the stupidest thing i've ever done

oscarpiastri: first of all, arthur introduced us months before you "introduced us", second of all, this is a lot coming from the guy who cried to me about how i'm so great for your sister and can't wait to have me as a brother-in-law

yourusername: AWWW GEORGIE YOU SOFTIE

georgerussell63: yes i am soft. i love love. sue me gosh.

user15: they are so aesthetically pleasing to my eyes

landonorris: so does like y/n wanna give self defence classes?

yourusername: for a price, soz nothing comes for free in this economy

danielricciardo: please can you do classes? i wanna harness your rabid chihuahua energy

yourusername: i am NOT. a chihuahua take that back daniel

oscarpiastri: she's more like a kangaroo, cute but will steal your dog and beat your ass

yourusername: true, i just wanna put you in my pouch

yourusername: that sounds weird, but i just wanna hold you and never let go

danielricciardo: okay i was just messing around no need to be disgustingly cute

logansargeant: i'm glad you're both okay, but that room service debrief went so hard

oscarpiastri: honestly if i weren't holding an ice pack to my girlfriend's face it would've been top two

yourusername: eh i think it's still top two, nothing is unseating when we were next door to lando shagging and we made it a drinking game 😭

landonorris: WHAT ????

oscarpiastri: no comment

logansargeant: no comment

yourusername: it was drink every time you moaned impressively loud 👍

landonorris: no comment

alexalbon

liked by oscarpiastri, yourusername and 822,304 others

tagged: yourusername, oscarpiastri, lilymunhe

alexalbon: idc you can never get me to hate her ass if you poke the bear expect to get bitten

view all comments

user16: sorry to the galex truthers but y/n and alex are the superior friendship

yourusername: i knew you loved me + and i knew you loved oscar SEND ME THE LAST PIC NEW LOCKSCREEN INCOMING

alexalbon: i've been the personal photographer for both russells for years and i'm only just being appreciated

yourusername: HOLD ON i take just as many of you and lily

alexalbon: well that's easier because we're much easier to photograph

oscarpiastri: WOAH hold your horses pal, call me ugly all you want but one shall not dishonour y/n

alexalbon: okay someone spent the break at the russell house

yourusername: HE'S NOT UGLY YOU POOL NOODLE TAKE IT BACK

alexalbon: damn it's a tough crowd. and on a post literally appreciating you

yourusername: bare minimum

user17: okay the kardashians are over - netflix can we please get a drive to survive spin off about y/n, george, oscar and alex ????

landonorris: lando norris erasure

charles_leclerc: charles leclerc erasure

oscarpiastri: move over twitch quartet, there's a new sheriff in town

landonorris: okay i'm banning y/n from mclaren you've spent too much time with her and now a rookie is bullying me :(

yourusername: he ate you up... i'm so proud

landonorris: is this the environment the russells promote? @georgerussell63

georgerussell63: you're on your own on this one lando i gave up years ago

yourusername: @oscarpiastri i think that's called maximising our joint slay

oscarpiastri: they wish they were us for real

user18: i love watching a black cat gf slowly corrupt her golden retriever bf

yourusername: oscar is like an evil little kitten really

oscarpiastri: and you love it

note: quick one cause i'm in my feelings. enjoy this random oscar cuteness he is an aussie queen (also a friend of mine literally went to the same school as him it's so weird)

[norrizzandpia]

So American (OB38)

Summary: To the song So American by Olivia Rodrigo. In which a Brit and an American fall so deeply in love with each other.

Warnings: suggestive scenes, language, so much fluff omg, reader is from America (specifically California), reader wants to be a writer and loves Jane Austen, reader loves London, idk if you can tell yet but this is HEAVILY indulgent, reader goes to University of San Francisco (that part is not self indulgent lol)

Note: I couldn’t help myself ive had this idea for too long, my debut Ollie Bearman fic! I hope you like it because i do 🤭

Eighteen and baby-faced, Y/n thought her trip to London with her best friends would be fun and outrageous. She expected when they touched down in Heathrow that the trip would bring countless amounts of unique memories. It was part of their celebration of completion in their first year in college, a week-long trip to one of their favorite places to welcome the desperately needed summer.

None of them expected for Y/n to slam into a tall body when they were running to a musical before the doors closed and none of them expected that tall body to be that of another eighteen year old who found the short, American girl too cute to tear his eyes away from.

Ollie hadn’t been expecting much when he decided to take a day trip into London, wanting to spend the day wandering around one of his favorite cities. Though, when his eyes graced him the vision of y/h/c hair and a flushed girl frazzled in front of him, he knew it would be one to remember.

She was short, almost too short as his neck craned down to meet her eyes and the two murmured out apologies as he knelt down to pick up her bag that had dropped when they both rounded the same corner too fast.

Her ID slipped out, California’s name in bold letters right at the top and made Ollie laugh.

”American?” He smiled as Y/n’s friends glanced at each other from the side.

Y/n grinned, “Yep, American.”

Part of him knew getting into business with someone who lived on another continent couldn’t be smart, but he couldn’t bear to think of not seeing her again. Her beauty struck him and there were no thoughts in his mind when he asked for her number when she mumbled something about having to leave.

Y/n’s wide eyes turned around to meet his once more, “My number?”

Ollie nodded, his hand in his pocket and clutching his phone, “Your number.”

Her friends behind her giggled before shoving her toward the British boy who they had no idea was not your average or normal eighteen year old. Y/n took his phone lightly and pressed the correct digits. When she returned it, her name staring back at him, he blushed, “Y/n. That’s cute.”

Her cheeks warmed just like his as her friends began tugging on her hand and yelling about making the showtime, “What’s your name?!” She yelled as they dragged her away.

He waved with a beam, “Ollie!”

Ollie. That’s cute.

—

That summer, Y/n never went back to California. The moment she began talking with Ollie and he began taking her out on dates before she was supposed to leave, she knew there would be no way she could leave him. She canceled her flight back after Ollie had begged her to stay, and told her friends they needed to go back without her, that there was something more she needed to explore in London.

The girls had anticipated it, honestly. When they had seen the dazed grin on their friend’s face every time she came back from seeing the boy, they knew there was not enough willpower to hold her back from changing plans.

She would come back for the next school year, but it was clear if things went well, which they seemed they would be, she would stay for the summer.

And that she did.

Ollie forced her around all of England, showing her his favorite nooks and crannies of the country he grew up in. They would spend hours in his car as he drove her around, to the end of the country and back, just so she could experience his favorite view too. Their moments spent together forced the two to get to know each other wholly. Y/n found out about his racing career, gaped at him when he mentioned his Formula 1 race, and Ollie found out about her mundane life as a student at University of San Francisco. Honestly, he loved how regular she was. He craved her stories of college parties and nights spent up until three AM trying to turn in a paper. He loved her life stories. She loved his. They made for a good duo.

When the end of the two months drew near, tears were shed and words of distance were stressed. As they stood at the entrance to Heathrow, Ollie held Y/n in his arms and promised to find another time for her to come visit him, or one where he would come visit her. He was insistent and while they wouldn’t say it then, they were already in love.

That proved true a few months later, after calls and texts back and forth, when Y/n turned up at Heathrow once more. She was on Christmas break, one that granted her time to see her boyfriend, and while her family had been supportive of her skipping the holiday to go see someone that clearly made her so happy, she still felt a bit guilty to cancel. Though, that feeling diminished when she descended down the escalator and found Ollie holding a large sign with her name on it in pinks and greens, a large smile on his face as she yelped out and sprinted toward him.

“OLLIE!” Her bags dropped and she flew into his arms as he yelled her name back, the sign he had worked so hard on thrown to the floor the moment she got close.

He kissed her cheek and the two were looked upon adoringly by bystanders in the airport as he gently set her down on the ground, kissing her softly and whispering how much he had missed her.

When he led her out of the doors, all her belongings in his hands, they smiled brightly at each other as if to confirm how much they would make this month worth their while.

—

Drivin’ on the right-side road, he says I’m pretty wearin’ his clothes. And he's got hands that make hell seem cold. Feet on the dashboard, he’s like a poem I wish I wrote. I wish I wrote.

Ollie clutched Y/n’s thigh as he drove to their favorite spot, one he had shown her during the summer. Her head lulled to the side, staring at him lightly and lovingly right when he glanced at her, his eyes roaming over her body.

Her eyebrows pulled together, “What?”

He smirked, “You look pretty wearing my clothes.” His fingers traced up her stomach to tug on his sweatshirt that adorned her upper body. The way it draped largely over her made his heart warm and how she had the hood pulled up over her messy hair made him want to pull the car over and kiss her silly.

She looked cozy. Cozy enough that his hand traveled under the material to rest around her waist. His warm hands made her feel more sleepy, the clock in the car reading a time too early, as she cuddled further into herself. Ollie noticed the yawn that drew from her and smiled to himself, his eyes averting back to the lonely road they were on.

“Can I put my feet on the dash?” She murmured, eyes closing and head tucking further into his sweatshirt.

Ollie patted her leg, “Sure, baby. I’ll wake you up when we’re there.”

He turned the music down enough for her to find sleep again and when her phone pinged beside him, he glanced down randomly. His head had snapped back up before he could genuinely realize the notification he had seen. When it dawned on him what he might’ve seen, his eyes drifted down once more and tapped the screen to see it again.

A notification from In-n-Out stayed put on her screen and he stifled a laugh before whispering, “Oh, she’s so American.”

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

Ollie howled from laughter as Y/n giggled, her joke going over better than she expected. She knew it was funny, but she didn’t think the red in his face from not breathing was necessary. Still, she admired the way he admired her and went along with his hysterics. When his breathing regulated and his hunched over position came back to a seated one on the cold bench in Hyde Park, her stares were finally noticed by him.

”What?” He asked, arm wrapping around her shoulder as he shoved a piece of croissant in his mouth. He offered the last piece to Y/n and she took it, murmuring before putting it in her mouth, “Nothing. You just think I’m funny.”

Ollie’s eyebrows rose and he blew out a breath, “I think you’re hilarious.”

”I wonder how much you’ll laugh with me when you’re wasted.” Y/n’s head cocked to the side as she lost herself to thoughts.

Ollie giggled, “Probably an annoying amount when I’m pissed.”

Y/n’s jaw dropped in horror, “Not when you’re pissed! Don’t pee yourself!”

The couple turned to each other in confusion, Ollie fully taken aback, “Who said anything about peeing themselves?!”

Y/n jabbed a finger into his chest, “You did!”

Ollie pushed her softly, his hand on her waist drawing her back to him, “No, I didn’t!”

Her head fell into his chest in a fit of laughter, “Yes! I was talking about getting drunk and then you just brought up pissing yourself!”

In a moment of realization, Ollie found himself howling with laughter again. His hands clutched her frozen ones in the midst of winter before he got out, “It means the same thing! Wasted and pissed! Drunk!”

Her mouth fell open as she began to understand. Then, she pulled a face, “Why would you British people say pissed? That’s weird.”

Ollie gasped with a smile, “Hey! Don’t be rude.”

She crossed her arms, “You’re the one that insinuated peeing yourself.”

Ollie groaned and scrambled from the seat, running away from her with loud laughter, “Get away from me, American!”

She got up, rushing after him, with strangers giving them questionable looks as they began running through the bushes and trees of Hyde Park,

As she followed after him, his smile getting caught in her mind, she realized she had never felt this way about anyone. Sure, she had had guys in the past, but none of them compared to Ollie. The time they spent together, whether over the phone or in the actual presence of the other, always left her with a fuzzy feeling. A fuzzy feeling she always wanted to feel. The idea of forever was premature, but she was beginning to believe she was in love with the boy running away from her and jokingly berating her for being American. If she was in love, why not entertain the idea of marriage in her daydreams?

When she reached him, falling into his arms roughly with continued giggles, he leaned in and kissed her softly. The look in Ollie’s eyes when he pulled back made her think he might just be in love with her too.

Maybe they could entertain the idea of marriage in their daydreams together.

—

God, I’m so boring and I’m so rude. Can’t have a conversation if it’s not all about you; the way you dress and the books you read. I really love my bed, but, man, it's hard to sleep when he’s with me, when he’s with me.

Y/n brushed her teeth in the white of Ollie’s bathroom, his parents having generously let her stay in their home during her stay for Christmas. Her best friend, Charlotte, stared back at her from the phone. Their FaceTime had just started and Y/n hadn’t waited to say any greetings before jumping into rambling about Ollie.

”Charlotte, I’m so obsessed with him. I think it’s unhealthy.” She laughed, Charlotte laughing with her. Ollie eavesdropped on the other side of the door. “He’s so sweet and attentive. He remembers all the little things and even suggests things he thinks I’ll love. Which I always do. The other day, we were walking around Sussex and he saw this small book in a window and forced me into the shop. Turns out he had found a Jane Austen Pride and Prejudice First Edition. He told me he remembered how much I loved that movie and that storyline. He even referenced exact sentences that I had said in the midst of my rant about how much I love Jane Austen books. I looked at the price tag, holy shit, Char, it was so expensive. I made him leave the store immediately because the look on his face told me he needed no convincing in buying it for me. I thought I was in the clear, but apparently he’s friends with the owner of that store, so he went in early the morning after, while I was still asleep, and bought it for me. He surprised me with it along with breakfast in bed. I almost cried, Char. He’s even started reading it with me because he knows how much I love it.”

Charlotte’s eyes twinkled at the look on her friend’s face. Charlotte loved Ollie for the way he treated Y/n. “That is fucking insane. This man is in love with you, Y/n.”

Ollie’s heart exploded in his chest from the other side of the door. He had been caught.

Y/n’s whispering was loud enough for him to hear, “I think I’m in love with him too. I can’t get over his smile and his favorite pair of shoes that he most definitely needs to repurchase. I love his humor and how much he wants to make me happy. I love how he makes me feel so wanted and important. I love everything about him from his ratty Ferrari sweatshirt to the moles on his cheek.”

Ollie almost started giggling, jumping up and down like a schoolgirl, at her confession. He was ecstatic. This feeling was better than when he scored points in his first Formula 1 race. Yet, he didn’t want to let her know he knew yet. He wanted to plan something, something big that would show how serious he was about her.

The two friends hung up the phone after Y/n realized what time it was and rattled off to Charlotte about Ollie waiting for her in bed. Charlotte tried not to point out the suggestive nature of her statement, but she failed. “Use protection!” She yelped just as the phone hung up. Y/n stood in the threshold to Ollie’s bedroom, him staring back at her as the two took in Charlotte’s warning.

Ollie flopped down into the sheets, Y/n falling right into his arms. He kissed her neck and whispered, “She doesn’t need to worry. We will.”

They wouldn’t end up falling asleep until far into the night.

—

I apologize if it’s a little too much, just a little too soon, but if the conversation ever were to come up I don’t want to assume this stuff. But, ain’t it love? I think I’m in love.

Ollie couldn’t wait to tell her. Let her know that he felt the same way. And Y/n couldn’t wait to tell him about her most favorite idea, one she had come up in the wake of telling her best friend how much she loved her boyfriend. Neither of them knew the other had something so serious to discuss as they drove down the quiet street. Ollie had shoved her in the car, telling her he was taking her to a picnic under the stars. He threw his coat over her, taking his other for himself, and drove the few minutes before arriving at the open grass area near his house. He helped her out of the car, leading her to the trunk to get the box of food his mother had helped him make in preparation for this, and found a perfect spot with the clearest view of the sky.

The cold, winter air made them curl into each other, creating the perfect amount of warmth to stay. Y/n didn’t know how to breach her topic as they popped spoonfuls of soup into their mouths. Ollie beat her to it.

“Can I tell you something?” He whispered, finding her soft eyes.

She nodded, “Of course, baby.”

He sighed, putting his soup off to the side and trying to rid his body of unnecessary nerves. He knew she felt the same. Still, his hands shook slightly, not from the cold, “You have completely wrecked my life. You were so unexpected and not something I was ever anticipating, but I am so happy you fell into my life, Y/n. I will always look back on that moment at that random corner in London with so much love because…” He took a deep breath, “I love you and that was the start of you and me.”

Y/n’s face beamed and she set her soup down, throwing herself into Ollie. He fell backward, the two falling into a heap of limbs on the blanket below them. She kissed his face all over with sloppy, lovesick kisses, “Ollie! I love you too!”

He would never get over how her voice sounded whenever she said his name. Sure, she had said it in annoyed manners before when he had ticked her off, but, even then, he loved the way her accent sounded around the syllables. Never did he think he would be putting American accents first before British ones on his list of most beloved accents. Though, he was beginning to find that her smiling face was getting him to do a lot of crazy things lately. Like, buying a book worth thousands of dollars and reading it along with her. Chilling.

She tapped the back of his palms before tugging lightly on his fingers, “I have something to run past you.”

He nodded, pulling her between his legs and stroking her back. She let her legs wrap around his waist as they continued to sit on the blanket, “You know how much I want to be a writer? The reason why I’m studying English and everything?”

Ollie continued nodding, tilting his head as to tell her he had no clue where this was going.

She cleared it up quickly, however, when she nervously rambled, “What if I transferred to a UK university?”

Ollie’s heart almost flew from his chest, “Like, move here?”

She gave a small smile, “Yeah. I mean, I’ve always wanted to move here and study here. I love it here. But, now,” She kissed his lips, “I have more of a reason to. Would that be something you’d be okay with?”

He scoffed, “Would that be something I’d be okay with?! Fuck, yeah! Oh my God, Y/n, please move here. Holy shit, move here.” He begged with the cheekiest grin on his face.

She laughed, “Okay, okay. I still have to be accepted, but I have good chances with my grades and everything.”

Ollie shook her body lightly, “No, you’ll be accepted. If I start a manifestation journal specifically for this, would you judge me?”

Y/n cackled, “No, go right ahead. Tap into that spiritual force, Bearman.”

He kissed her hard, happy it seemed to work out for them. God, he wanted it to work out for them so bad.

—

And he laughs at all my jokes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, it’s just not fair of him to make me feel this much. I’ll go anywhere he goes and he says I’m so American. Oh God, I’m gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up. I might just be in lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-lo-love.

ONE YEAR LATER

Y/n walked down the street to her dorm, a quizzical look etched into her face as she rounded the corner and ran into a hard body. Her eyes found his familiar ones from her position below him and his smile welcomed her home after a long day.

Ollie laughed, “We have got to stop meeting like this.”

She tucked herself under his arm as they began walking, “You just need to stop walking so fast.”

He laughed at her comment before leaning down and kissing her cheek, “How was your day?”

She groaned, “So long. English in a UK university is much more in depth than I was expecting. It puts American colleges to shame. Plus, for lunch, the waiter screwed up my order.”

Ollie frowned, “Oh, no. What’d they mess up?”

Y/n gave him a sad smile, “I asked for chips with my sandwich and they gave me French fries.”

There was silence before Ollie shook his head with a soft smile, “Baby, French fries are chips here.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, “What do you mean?”

He playfully rolled his eyes, “No one says French fries here. If you want that, it’s chips.”

She stood in front of him in a stance that suggested this was an outrage. He chuckled at her, “Then, what do I say if I want chips?!”

He pushed her hair away from her face lovingly, “Crisps, love.”

She huffed and turned away, walking down the sidewalk before he quickly caught up with her. She grumbled from under his arm, “You need to teach me these crazy discrepancies.”

Ollie nodded and kissed her hair, “It’s not my fault you’re so American, but sure, I will. We can start now.”

Apparently, that sufficed for her as she let out an agreeing noise, “Yeah, so where are we going for this date.”

He put his finger to his lips and shushed her, “No, it’s a surprise.”

Her mind loved the fact that he was so obsessed with planning their outings by himself. She loved how much he initiated everything. She had never felt so taken care of. She always envied the girls loved wholly by their boyfriends and now she had that for herself. There would be no day that would come that she took advantage of the boy she fell in love with two summers ago.

She shrugged, “You better be happy I trust you so much, I’d follow you into a dark cave without any questions.”

Ollie squeezed her, “I mean, I follow you anywhere you go, so if you’re not going into that cave, I’m not either.”

He pulled her down the stairs to the Tube as he slipped her backpack off her body and onto his. She kissed him in appreciation, “So, it’s settled. No dark caves.”

Ollie shook his head and led her to the place they needed to be. He held her hand tightly as they weaved through the crowds, his head flicking behind him to check on her frequently before just pushing her in front of him, his hands around her waist as he steered her.

When they got to their platform, he added his last thought to their conversation, “We need to get married first before wandering into dangerous caves.”

He said it so nonchalantly, it made her fall in love with him more. And when he met her eyes after he was met with silence, he found overwhelming joy within them.

He kissed her in the midst of the chaos underground, his hands cradling her face and hers loosely around his waist. They were a sight for sore eyes, but no one saw them in the midst of their special moment.

It was just for themselves and would be referred back to in the coming years as the moment where their forever really started.

Bloody hell, they were so in love.

[writingouthere]

neighbor!sukuna x singlemom!reader. Sukuna picks up your daughter from school, he makes quite the impression and we learn more about his background.

cw: None really here except I guess this is low key becoming a slow burn, idk.

You were stuck at work and didn't have anyone else who could go get your daughter so you had asked Sukuna. The tattoo shop was usually slow in the evening this far into winter anyway, and he couldn't imagine saying no to you even if he'd been fully booked.

It felt strange to be going outside when it was still light out but Sukuna took in the sights as other people walked around, other parents clearly in the process of picking up their children from school.

Not that Bug was his kid, at least not as far you knew. Yet.

Sukuna didn't do things halfway, just wasn't in his nature. He knew he was moving fast, he had put up with his little brother Yuji's nervous protests at dinner the week before when he had explained his new living situation, but he wasn't going to slow things down when they were going so well.

For a long time, it had just been him and Yuji. There had been other relatives, like Yuji's grandfather and his freak of a mother, but the two had mostly bounced around foster homes and made due until Sukuna was old enough to take care of them both. Yuji was graduating college in the spring and Sukuna had been alone since he left for the dorms and now he had an apartment with some friends from school. Sukuna was proud of his brother, he was one of the only people he really gave a fuck about. Their lives had been hard and that had made Sukuna even harder. Yuji had never been like that, he had come through even kinder than the average person and Sukuna could admire the strength that showed in it's own way.

The point was, Sukuna had paid his dues. He had done right by his brother even when the world had done them so wrong and now he was ready for his reward. You and the little girl he was about to go get.

The daycare was inside of a little beige building, decorated with those tacky outlines of children playing and some fucking mural with birds that always seemed to cover the walls of places like this. Parents, mostly moms, walked out with their children in tow, asking about their days and zipping up coats. Sukuna noticed the double takes as they took him in, the way the adults seemed to pull their little ones closer. That was fine by him, he didn't want any of these fucking rugrats near him except his own.

"Ryomen Sukuna, mom should have added me to the pick-up list," he told your daughter's teacher, showing her his ID. She didn't react to his tattoos or general aura with anything but a smile and he supposed that childcare workers must be aware more than most that they really do let anyone be a parent.

"Of course, I'll go get her while you sign here," she said handing over a clipboard with the names of all the kids in the center along with blue pen with a fuzzy pompom attached to it. While he was signing his name he heard a familiar squeal and looked to see your daughter running towards him as fast as her little legs could carry her.

"Sukuna!"

She tripped on some particularly tricky air and Sukuna moved forward to pick her up before she could face plant on the hard tile.

"Careful there bug, told mom I'd bring you home in one piece."

She ignored him and started babbling nonsense about her day that Sukuna could only really catch half of, but he nodded and hmmed as he finished signing her out and with a quick nod to the amused staff member, he headed out.

He shifted her on his hip so he could finish zipping up her coat. What was it with kids and their refusal to just zip up their damn coats? He remembered Yuji had been the same.

Bug continued to regale him with tales of her day until she eventually squirmed on his hip, the universal signal for "put me down until I get tired and whine for you to pick me up again" and Sukuna put her down on the sidewalk but took her backpack which he slung across his shoulder and then grabbed her hand with his. He could see people take second looks at the two of them and he supposed they cut quite the picture. The tall scary guy with tattoos carrying a pink princess backpack and the little girl pulling him down the sidewalk.

"We in a rush or something?"

Your daughter laughed and said something about being hungry for dinner with mommy which he could get behind. You both had only been living with him for a week but you already had a bit of a routine. He made breakfast in the morning while you got the kid ready but you always made dinner that was ready when he got home. It was nice, domestic. It felt like what he imagined life was like for people who had normal families when he had been a young kid. Holding a crying, hungry baby Yuji on his lap while they ate whatever he could scrounge up in whatever shithole they were in that week.

He remembered when Yuji had been the same age as your daughter and the idea of her ever living in the places they had, or going through the things they had made him pull her a little closer.

He wasn't going to lie to himself and say he was a good man or that he wanted you, the both of you, for some pure love nonsense but he knew he wanted you all the same. He had done terrible things and he would do them all over again if it led to this moment where he watched as your daughter cooed over the neighbor's dog. Said neighbor looking at him in confusion and fear as he told your daughter they needed to leave the fleabag alone and go home.

Later, when Sukuna was working on dinner and your daughter was sitting on the counter, "helping", he heard the sound of a key in the lock.

"I'm home," you called out and Sukuna called out that they were in the kitchen.

"Hey, thank you so much for getting her. I just wasn't going to make it in time," you said, picking up your daughter.

"No worries, we weren't busy at the shop today anyway." You hummed and smiled at him.

"Still."

"You can go ahead and change," he told you and you looked ready to protest when he went to grab your daughter from you but then Bug went willingly and he saw how you melted at the two of them. Good.

"Okay, but when I get back I'm taking over dinner."

Sukuna agreed and he watched as you walked away, admiring the way your clothes hugged your frame. He was glad the only witness to his hunger was a toddler who was more interested in poking his cheek than observing social cues.

The rest of the evening passed peacefully and Sukuna felt what he could only describe as content. When your daughter started to nod off on your shoulder, you got up from the couch to take her to bed, telling Sukuna he should stay and that you got it. With your daughter on one hip, you used your free hand to press against his shoulder and lean down to where he was still on the couch. He closed his eyes at the feeling of your lips pressing gently against his cheek and then with a quick goodnight, the two of you were in your room, the door closing with a quick 'click'.

The gesture had been so innocent and Sukuna would have mocked anyone he knew who got so flustered over a gesture as meaningless as a kiss on the cheek.

But how could any gesture be meaningless when it came from you?

[norrisleclercf1]

I need angsty sebcharles where reader is having a panic attack because she had a week from hell that just exploded like a volcano and she can’t get ahold of them to calm her down. So they basically find her losing her shit in their home.

(Totally not base off my own life)

Love everything you do!!

- 🐮

A/N: Aight getting personnal here and it's finals week so yeah

You couldn't handle it anymore. You couldn't sit for hours on end reading garbled words trying to make sense of them. You were tired beyond what was considered to be normal. Drinking way to many sodas and energy drinks for the shaking to just be tiredness.

You tried to blame the restlessness on the energy drinks you've been chugging all day but you knew you couldn't keep up that excuse. Wanting nothing more than to close your books, you feel your chest tighten and your vision narrow. "Not good," You whisper and start looking around the papers and books for your phone.

You needed to call one of them, you didn't matter who, you just needed one of them to talk you down. Finding it, you shake heavily and hit Sebastian's caller ID praying he picks up.

"Pick up, please, Sebby, I need you." You whimper out, trying hard to keep yourself from breaking down. You were fighting a losing battle with your head and you needed his calm voice to talk you down, you needed Charles's soft french as he reminds you that everything is going to be okay. "Sebby, pick up." You choke on a sob trying your best to control the tears that were no falling down your face.

"You have reached the automated voicemail of-" You don't wait for it to finish before your hitting end and calling Charles. Maybe Sebastian turned his phone off again, he does get annoyed sometimes with it always going off. "Charlie, I need you." You sob out digging your head between your legs trying to do your soothing techniques your therapist taught you.

Yet again you get the same monotone robot voice before you throw the phone and hiccup, letting the sob rack your body. Standing up you start to pace the living room, pulling at your hair as you cry the world spinning. Why weren't they picking up? Did they not love you anymore? Have they realized you're not right for them? Why aren't they here? Why?

Your mind runs wild as your body racks out a loud sob and you drop to the floor as your body starts to go into survival mode. Your vision darkening.

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

"Think she'll like them?" Charles asks, nervous as he holds the little gifts and bouquet of flowers. They knew you have been studying hard and they wanted to surprise you. "Yes, Charlie, stop asking." Sebastian laughs as they push open the garage door and are slow to walk in, not wanting to alert you.

Stepping farther into the house, Sebastian stops when he hears a gut wrenching sound coming from the living room. "Y/n," Charles gasps, dropping everything as he rushes to you, Sebastian quick on his heels. "Oh god, baby." Charles is frantic seeing the state you're in.

"Fuck," Sebastian collapses beside his boyfriend as Charles wraps his arms around you. "Don't leave me," You sob, Charles and Sebastian share a look. You rarely had your episodes, but when you did they were never good and they tried to be there.

"Why didn't you answer," You whimper into Charles chest as Sebastian grabs your hand and does a pressure point to help you calm down. "We're sorry, fuck we're so sorry. We were getting to a gift and fuck we're so sorry." Charles whispers, rocking back and forth a little with you, which has you slowing your breathing.

"We're never leaving you, you know that yeah?" Sebastian asks, moving closer and you nod your head slowly. "It just got to much." You whimper and Sebastian nods. "I'm so sorry we weren't here. But, we're here now." Sebastian whispers, pulling you both into him.

"We're not going anywhere."

[eddiemunsonw]

Snow Storm

Steve Harrington x Fem!reader

Summary: You're on a 'date'. Sort of. You're really not feeling it, especially when you realize that the guy has been lying. Steve, witnessing it all during his shift at Family Video, is more than happy to meddle a little.

CW/Disclaimer: Hmmmm things start to get a little heated and sexy but nothing too dramatic. So... idk. Mention of porn?

Author's note: I have a tendency to post fics out of their season, it seems

Words: 3435

Steve’s POV

He watched as your eyes followed the section of horror movies slowly, scanning each title to try and remember if you had seen them before. Next to you, a guy stood impatiently as he eyed the curtain that separated the adult section. Steve watched with interest, as it was all that was currently happening in the store apart from a regular who looked into the slapstick classics on the other side.

“Come on, I just wanna see.”

The guy sighed, nudged you with his arm. You were having none of it and Steve couldn’t help but wear an amused smile. Eventually, when you had picked out two movies, you followed him towards the curtain. Steve, feeling particularly menacing today, quickly left the counter and approached the curtain just in time.

“Hello there! ID’s please.”

He held his hand open and you took it out immediately, showing that you were 23, a year younger than he was. When the guy handed it over with some reluctance, his curiosity piqued.

“Oof, sorry dude, can’t let you in. It’s 21+”

“What? Since when?” the guy responded, but Steve clocked something much more interesting.

“Clark… You said you were 24. Jesus this is why I never wanna say my age first,” you groaned and rolled your eyes. Steve bit down on his lip to stop himself from smiling, but it was too hard not to.

“Damn, why’d you have to lie to the lady? That’s not cool,” Steve added on.

Your POV

“You weren’t supposed to know. Now come on,” Clark mumbled and attempted to pass the curtain but Steve quickly moved in between, the smooth glide of his body grabbing your attention.

“Still a no, Bud.”

You were already tired of his pushy behavior earlier, so while Steve had him occupied, you entered the adult section. You didn’t even want to go in there, but it was better than staying.

“Grab some deepthroating! And some lesbian porn?”

Steve’s POV

Steve shook his head at him as he leaned against the wall right next to the curtain.

“Jesus, dude. Are you trying to make her run away from you even harder?”

“Shut up,” Clark grumbled, side eyeing him with annoyance.

“Hm, no,” Steve said, a small smile on his face. “Not for a pipsqueak like you.”

“Oh fuck off, says the failed jock whose daddy no longer funds him so he has to do a shitty job like this one, the highlight of his day being to be a total asshole to a guy trying to have sex with a girl.”

Steve stared ahead of him, taking a deep inhale before replying.

“Yeah. Sure. That’s a neat description of you and me both. Emphasis on the trying.”

“The day’s not over yet.”

“Oh but it is, pipsqueak. Cause you’re gonna turn around and leave now.”

They looked at each other, eyes dark and challenging. Steve wasn’t sure what came over him. He just knew that he needed to do you the favor of getting rid of him.

“The hell I am,” Clark bristled.

Steve chuckled darkly. Woah, when did he become this super villain huh? Hmm. Interesting.

“Oh you are. She wants you gone and so do I.”

“You don’t know shit about what she wants.”

“Let me go ask,” Steve said as his hand lazily slid the curtain aside. “What’s her name again?” he asked, pretending like he hadn’t checked your name on your ID. He didn’t wait for his answer and walked behind the curtain despite his protests. This, however, made him miss out on the emergency alert on the radio.

“We interrupt your favorite tunes for an important message. The blizzard is getting worse. If you haven’t yet, go home. Chances are you won’t be able to if you wait much longer.”

Clark, however, did. Besides, he wasn’t that much of an idiot. He knew he had lost his chances with you the moment he tried to get you to grab his favorite porn videos. Whatever.

Your POV

“So… see anything you like?”

His voice startled you, but at the same time it was met with relief from your end that it wasn’t Clark. Steve slowly walked closer and quickly noticed you didn’t seem interested in any of it in the slightest and chuckled.

“Or are you just planning to stay here forever until he leaves?”

You shrugged.

“Something like that. Also, you don’t just ask a lady about her favorite porn, Harrington.”

Delighted by your response, he cocked his hip against the wall as he crossed his arms with a grin.

“I mean… we both already know Clark’s…” Steve said jokingly, earning a smile from you.

“All men are the same,” you sighed. Steve pouted and scanned the titles for something interesting.

“You say that now but… wait until you find out that my favorite is actually… Granny getting a— nope, nope, forget I started that sentence,” Steve said quickly as he put back the tape he just had in his hands.

“All the grannies over the world are crying right now,” you said sadly, a smile on your lips.

“Too bad, I’ve set my eye on girls who actually are the age they say they are.”

“I’ll admit that’s the most interesting belated opening line I’ve ever heard,” you said dryly.

“As long as it catches your intrigue, I’m satisfied,” Steve said with a playful, cocky grin.

You grabbed a tape and smirked, holding it out for him.

“So I’m guessing you don’t need yourself a… Satisfyer 2.0, then?” You asked, holding up the tape which had sensual “instructions” for a vibrator.

Steve laughed and shook his head.

“These satisfy just fine,” Steve said, holding up his hands. Your mind drifted off to what he could do with those big hands. Not just to himself but to—

“… left?”

Steve had apparently just asked you a question.

“Huh?”

He smirked and nodded towards the curtain.

“I think he left. Just heard the bell above the door.”

“Maybe someone came in though…” you wondered out loud.

“Maybe. I’ll go check.” He spun on his heel and approached the curtain when—

“Wait—” It was out before you knew it. Steve halted, turned back around and looked at you patiently.

“Yeah?”

“If he is in fact not gone, can you… get rid of him somehow? I normally wouldn’t ask but he’s just such a—”

“Dick.”

“Yeah…” You smiled a small smile and watched as he approached you again. His eyes were on you, taking in even the smallest changes in your expression.

“So is he like… your boyfriend?” Steve asked softly. “Or uh, was?”

You chuckled and shook your head.

“Nah, this was the second date which I had reluctantly agreed to.”

“Why’d you say yes?” Steve asked curiously. He followed your movement as you skimmed some more tapes and smiled at the playfully quipped corner of your mouth. “I mean, it didn’t look like you wanted to be here.”

“I didn’t. I just… I kind of never said yes but he just showed up on my doorstep and then I felt too bad to not go with him, so… yeah. Didn’t know he had plans to rent some porn and spend the second date in his bedroom or whatever.”

Steve crossed his arms and nodded thoughtfully.

“Hmmh… yeah that sucks. Well, I’ll make sure there won’t be a next time,” he said as he shortly winked at you and once again turned on his heel, this time actually continuing his walk through the curtain. He was out there for a few minutes when he turned back with a frown.

“Uh… Y/N? We’ve got a little… hiccup.”

You approached him with a frown of your own and followed him to the front, unsure what to expect. What you certainly didn’t expect, was to see a snow storm going on outside.

“Apparently there’s a code red. Just heard a repeat of it on the radio but it keeps breaking up. They urge everyone to stay inside until it’s over.”

Steve stuffed his hands into his pockets and stared ahead. It was the worst storm he had ever witnessed and the fact that nothing had seemed to be going on apart from some gentle snowfall surprised him.

“Stay… here?” you asked eventually.

“I mean, yeah? You can’t drive in this weather, it’s too dangerous. So is walking. So…”

“But I can’t just…”

“Hey, I don’t bite,” Steve said softly, nudging your arm with his own. “Besides, Clark seems to have left after all. Maybe he heard the warning and decided to bolt? If so, very nice to let us know as well but I will say that I wasn’t nice to him, so…”

You smirked.

“What did you say to him?”

“Nothing, nothing. I mean, genuinely, I didn’t say much. Just that he had to fuck off, using different wording. He didn’t seem all that ready to leave when I went to look for you though.”

“Oh well, good riddance.”

“Agreed.”

Steve walked forward and locked the door, putting the closed sign up front just in case.

“Let’s go to the back, it’s warmer there. And there’s a coffee machine.”

And so your “Stuck at Family Video with heartthrob Steve Harrington” began.

Once you were settled around the table in the break room, Steve gave you an odd glance. It was hard to figure out what he meant by it, although his frown disappeared the moment he got up from his chair.

“Coffee? Tea? I think we even got a few of those instant hot choc packages,” he offered, his back already turned to you as he searched the cabinets.

“Oh, hot chocolate sounds nice actually. Is it just me or is it… still kinda cold, even here?” you asked hesitantly. Steve nodded ruefully and grabbed two mugs from the cabinet he was currently facing.

“Ah, yeah… it looks like the heating is struggling again. I could kick it to see if it helps but… chances are it’ll get worse.”

“How could it get worse?”

Steve shrugged.

“Beats me, but I’m speaking from experience. Sometimes it does the trick and other times it really, really doesn’t.”

“Let’s not risk it then. At least we have a warm drink, right?”

Steve nodded and grabbed the kettle. You watched him busy himself with putting it on, emptying the hot chocolate powder and grabbing two spoons. He was humming along softly to whichever song he seemed to have stuck in his head and shot you a smile when he caught you looking.

“So what do you usually—”

Suddenly, the room turned pitch dark. You heard Steve swear softly when he shuffled back towards the table and bumped into a chair.

“Uh… okay. That’s… kind of a problem,” he mumbled as he managed to sit back down. “No hot choc I guess, sorry. No… heating either. Maybe we should check how the weather’s doing?” he opted.

“Yeah, sure.”

There was a small strip of light seeping in from the doorway, slowly turning brighter as you adjusted to your surroundings again. Warm fingers teased your arm before your wrist was grabbed and Steve helped you up. As he opened the door, the brightness of the snow outside was almost blinding. The thin windows made it a lot colder at the front, making you shiver as you watched the outside. It wasn’t just snow anymore, as heavy hail rained down, large enough to leave dents into cars. Steve groaned and let go of your wrist.

“Let me check if I can get the power back on,” he mumbled, more to himself than to you. He grabbed a flashlight from below the counter and went to the back again. After a few minutes, he returned, looking apologetic.

“Sorry, nothing. I guess it’s my fault you’re stuck here, huh?” he sighed. “If I hadn’t bothered Clark as much you’d be on your way already. Or if I just… I don’t know. Sorry, I guess.”

“It’s not your fault the weather decided to fuck us over, Steve,” you said with a soft smile which he returned with some hesitance. “What do you usually do for fun around here?”

Steve gave you a wry smile.

“Watch movies?”

“Ah, yeah.”

There was a short silence until Steve clapped in his hands and rubbed them together. “I’ve got this huge blanket in the back, brought it here once because Rob, Robin, my colleague, gets very cold easily so sometimes we’d just huddle under the blanket during breaks and stuff. I think we might as well sit out here, at least it’s light… for now.”

You nodded, smiling as you thought of Robin Buckley. You knew her of course. Not super well, but well enough to know she was nice.

“Yeah, it’s already getting dark, huh? A blanket sounds good though.”

Steve nodded and once again disappeared for a short moment, until he returned with a bright blue blanket, which he partially draped on the floor in front of the counter before he motioned for you to sit down and wrapped it around your shoulders. He joined you after grabbing you both some water and put the other end around his shoulders once he settled down.

“How’s this?”

You were really trying not to let it get to you that you were cozying up to Steve right now. Heat was radiating off of him and it made you wonder if he was actually cold, or if he was basically doing the whole “it’s better to stick together for body warmth” kind of thing. With the addition of clothes, of course.

“It’s nice. Better than without for sure,” you told him softly. Steve’s shoulder brushed yours and soon enough you felt the pressure build up until he was actually resting against you. Not in an uncomfortable way at all. It was really… nice, actually.

“Your parents? Do you think they’ll worry?”

“Ah, no. My mom’s visiting my grandma in another state actually and my dad’s no longer around, so. Doubt he can worry,” you joked lightly. “What about yours?”

Steve snorted, then realized it probably wasn’t all that funny and shrugged.

“Dunno, they’re somewhere in Europe now, I think? So no.”

Another silence. It was by that point that you remembered how little you actually knew about Steve Harrington. Sure, he had been popular in school for some time, and then he wasn’t, and then he graduated. But you had never really talked to him other than giving him a pen or two in English class. You were from different social ladders, really. Although, right now you felt quite equal to him, somehow. Which felt weird, considering he looked like a freshly cut out of a painting model and you were… you. Mr handsome decided to steal you away from your brain, which honestly, was a good thing.

“Hey, wanna play a game?” he asked, peering into your eyes as he leaned forward a little. You watched him with newfound curiosity.

“What kind of game?”

“I spy with my little eye.”

“Isn’t that just called “I spy”?” you wondered aloud.

“Dunno. So. Yes?”

“What else is there, right?”

Steve grinned and rested his head against the counter.

“That’s right. Okay. I spy with my little eye… something green.”

“That tape,” you said as you pointed. Steve leaned into your space, following your hand.

“Which one?”

“The green one.”

“There are maaaany green ones.”

“The green one with… Fuck I can’t read,” you sighed as you tried to squint. Steve laughed warmly, which you could feel the tremble of against your shoulder. “Okay so. The sci-fi shelf, yes? Fifth on the second row.”

“Aaaah, I see it now. Nope!”

“You knew that wasn’t it from the start.”

“I had to make sure.”

“Mhm, sure.”

Steve grinned and nudged you with his shoulder before tapping your thigh with his hand.

“Your turn, your turn!”

He left his hand on your thigh. Oh shit. Yeah, you were totally normal about that. You could still think. You could definitely still find some kind of object that you could use—

“Wait, I didn’t even guess it, how is it my turn?!” you questioned. Steve, who had been looking at… somewhere that wasn’t your eyes, quickly lifted his eyes to meet yours and grinned.

“Right. Guess!” “Your vest?”

“You are absolutely right. See? Your turn.”

“It wasn’t— okay. Hm… I spy with my little eye… something red.”

“Your cheeks.”

“Shut up, my cheeks aren’t red.”

“They are a little.”

“If you keep talking about it, yes, they will turn red.”

“Oh? Is that so?”

Once again Steve leaned forward to look you straight in the eye, this time lifting a hand to cup your cheek gently. “Hm, they’re a little pink at the very least.”

You could feel the heat rising to your cheeks and took his hand off your cheek as you looked away. Steve chuckled softly and turned his hand around so he could grab yours.

“Fine, then… the bike outside?”

“Nope.”

“Damn, I thought that was it for sure. That red blob of paint that Keith never managed to get off the ceiling?”

“That’s it!”

Steve grinned at you and gave your hand a squeeze. For a moment you had forgotten about his hand, too drunk on his animated face. Fuck.

“I spy with my little eye…” Steve turned his head to look at you and smiled. “Something pretty.”

“What?”

“Purple! Purple.”

“My shirt.”

“So clever.”

It was getting darker rapidly and soon enough, even your little game became harder to play. You did some other ones, word games, guessing games, whatever you could think of. The blanket was wrapped closer around you both now, as the store became colder without the heating. You sat hip to hip, your arms a little awkward sometimes although neither of you really minded.

“Would you have stayed here if I hadn’t been around?” you asked softly.

“Hmm, nah, I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t really care if— I mean, I’d only be risking myself in that case.”

“That’s a bad reason. You’re just as important.”

“Am I?” Steve asked, and for some reason you felt like he needed an honest answer.

“Yeah, you are, Steve.”

“Hm…” A beat of silence. “I spy with my little eye… someone pretty.”

“You can’t even see.”

“I’ve memorized her by now.”

“Is it the blonde babe cardboard cutout?”

Steve, not expecting that answer at all, burst out laughing.

“Fuck, no,” a giggle, “it wasn’t.”

“Oh… hm. What about that girl from the ring? Samara?”

“Shush.”

“Or the woman from that movie where—” “Ssshh.”

You felt his hand cup your cheek and it was as if your heart was gonna jump out of your chest at any moment now. His breath tickled your cheek, warm and comfortable against your cold nose. Your lips parted on their own, eyes closing even though there was only an outline of his face to see.

“You sure it’s not the blond babe?” you murmured teasingly.

Steve giggled softly and shook his head, causing the stray strands of his hair to tickle you a little.

“Positive.”

A faint sound of lips being licked, and then his lips brushed against yours. Soft and pliable, eager to taste yours. He hummed softly, pleased, as he pulled you closer. You were easily pulled into his lap as his tongue teased your bottom lip for access. Hands smoothed up and down your waist, the blanket forgotten as your kiss provided enough heat between the two of you. It was silent, save from the gasps and soft, pleasant hums leaving you both. He gently moved his hips while simultaneously guiding yours, a gentle moan leaving him as he found a rhythm. His lips found your neck and your hand made its way into his hair to have something to grasp onto. One hand found the hem of your shirt and he was about to lift it up when—

Brightness. Light. The electricity was back on. Meaning… everyone outside could see you. If there had been anyone, that is. Still, it broke the moment instantly as Steve dropped his hand to your thigh and looked up at you.

“Shit,” he murmured, a lopsided grin on his face. “They really know how to spoil the fun today, huh?”

You smiled down at him and turned around to look outside, one hand resting on his chest for balance.

“Hm… I don’t know. It seems safe to go back home.”

Steve dug his fingers into your hips with eagerness before leaving a soft kiss on your lips.

“Your place or mine?”

end.

If you enjoyed reading this, please know that comments and reblogs are highly appreciated :) Likes are lovely but sadly do nothing to spread the fics around! Help your favorite writers (not saying me - in general) out like that so you can continue to enjoy consuming the free work they put out, it's a win-win.

[angldelight]

margaret | max verstappen x fem!merc!driver x lewis hamilton.

the youngest on the grid. the biggest dreams of them all. how sad it was, watching it end.

bad crash. life changing injuries. romance between reader, max & lewis. use of y/n! age gap

“—and oh no! there is the mercedes of l/n!” to say your car was in pieces would be a lie. it was a wreck, and it was a miracle that you could even get out of it unfazed.

you stand, hands held onto the marshall’s as you wobbled around, tears streaming down your face as you gripped your helmet in your hands.

your car would have to be scrapped, it was almost unfathomable how it had happened, another driver clipped your back right tire, the driver behind you hadn’t seen that, ramming into the back of you.

immediately you were brought to an ambulance, limping like a fawn.

the sun burned. much more harsher that day.

‘I never thought id see this happen.. I never thought id have to make this. but it is with due sadness that I come out and say, I will be retiring from formula one with immediate decision.’ your voice was calm, but your hands shook.

lewis hamilton stared before you like you were a ghost coming back to haunt him.

he sat on his couch in his home, roscoe cuddled into his side as he watched the video. again and again. his shoulders slumped with defeat, a deafening sadness, a high pitch noise was all he seemed to hear.

max verstappen’s grip on his phone was so hard he could hear his assistant shudder. he, and his assistant, sat in his office. max leaned on his shoulders, watching your face, your pretty eyes.

his world crumbled, you were his greatest rival, and most definitely the love of his life.

the crash was bad, everybody knew that. but to see you crumble beneath the truth of it all— the accident had not only made life harder, but had ruined your dreams, was like witnessing a supernova.

his heart lays heavy underneath his rib cage as his eyes gather with tears.

the relationship between max and lewis was something no poet could ever fathom into words. you graced their lives, locked their hands and hearts with your own. you cradled them like lambs and loved them like flowers.

they knew they were lucky— though jealous of having to share you. they were so lucky to be loved by you.

cards of sympathy and flowers stood by your home, fans placing their own by your gates. get well soon! written in ugly fonts.

theirs was the ones you cradled like children, and loved like a constellation.

‘i—it has been an honour to have the privilege of meeting my bestest of friends, my greatest supporters and to share a track with these people is something i will keep with me for the rest of my life.’ they want to beg you to stop talking.

‘but.. when you know, you know.’

[healmyhrt]

could you do Matt x reader smut where reader wears something showy to her friends birthday party and Matt gets like turned on and you can take over the rest!

⌗ crush, m. sturniolo

matt x fem!reader

summary: matt has had a crush on you for the longest, and you’ve had strong feelings toward him too. after a summer fling with him, things turn awkward, and you both have a feeling of relief thinking that you’ll never see each other again… until your best friends birthday party.

disclaimers!: flirting, heavy making out, thigh riding, alcohol consumption, cursing, and use of y/n

a/n: guys question, is it technically “aftercare” if u don’t fuck??? like if you just js did oral shi or something idk 😣 anywho enjoy babes

i slowly creep into the dark entry way, removing my jacket as quietly as possible. i feel a hand tap my shoulder and i grip the fingers, trying to recognize who it could be.

“y/n?” a voice whispers. it was nick.

i reach in and hug him, squeezing tightly. i can feel him smiling against me. “hey, how are you?” i whisper back.

“good, you?” he replies, holding my hand and leading me through the dark hallway. “eh, so-so. is she here yet?”

a few friends and i were throwing a surprise party for my best friend, mia, she’s turning 21.

“she’ll be here in a few, but come on, everyone’s in here.”

i enter the dining room, seeing a crowd of some familiar and unfamiliar faces, candles lit in front of them.

i scan the group, looking at everyone, when my eyes come to an abrupt stop. there he was, matthew.

his blue eyes glistened behind the candlelight, and he stared right through it, straight at me. fuck.

i tap nick as he swivels around, handing me a candle.

“what the hell is he doing here?” i question. nick looks over at matt, then back at me. “um, he knows mia?”

i roll my eyes. nicks face changes and he raises an eyebrow. “have you two still not talked since the summertime?” i shuffle in place, looking at the floor.

“no…”

nick groans. “jesus. just—sort things out tonight, okay? you two can not ruin this night for mia. got it?” he says.

i nod, and glance over at matt, who was still staring.

chris sprints into the dining room, and catching his breath before speaking. “guys, they’re here!”

we all become quiet as the front door creaks open. i look up at nick who’s looking at me, trying not to smile.

mia slowly enters the dining room, a white blindfold tied gently over her freshly curled hair. she begins to untie it, and nick looks at everyone, holding up three fingers.

“3…”

“2…”

“1…”

“SURPRISE!” we all shout, seeing mia’s face. she immediately smiles, and holds her hands to her face.

“you guys!” she beams.

everyone rushes over, hugging her uncontrollably. i step back into the hallway, freeing myself from the crowd.

i sigh, looking over and seeing matt. he gives me a small smile, and i look the other way, turning toward the stairs.

it had been about 2 hours since we surprised mia, and now the entire house was packed. the small gathering had turned into a big party.

i had stayed holed up in mia’s room, drinking, as friends came and went, bringing me more and more.

now, i wasn’t drunk. they only brought me cans of sprite with a little bit of vodka in it. thats it.

and ive only had like 3 or 4 of them.

but i knew after a while id have to pee, and eventually leave mia’s room, placing myself back into the craziness that was downstairs.

i patt my hands dry on my favorite cardigan, shutting the bathroom door behind me. stepping down the steps into the chaos, i pass by multiple people making out on the steps.

i see mia at the bottom of the steps, and it gives me a sense of direction. she sees me and smiles immediately, running into my arms. “y/n!” she beams. i grin back.

“god, i feel like i haven’t seen you all night!” she grabs my forearm, dragging me into the living room. we stumble across a couple making out on the couch.

“can we sit here?” mia questions, with a smile.

they move over, and continue. “mia, im not sitting next to a horny ass couple.” i groan. she pulls me down next to her, and displays her legs across mine. “sooooo…”

i raise an eyebrow. “so, what?” she giggles, biting her bottom lip. “did you see him?” i cross my arms.

“you invited him? god—mia!” i scoff.

she laughs. “y/n, you two need to sort things out. tonight. okay? i can’t have two of my closest friends not being able to stay in the same room as one another.”

“you sound like nick.” i reply. she smirks. “well, yeah. it was our plan all along.” i playfully push her away with a little smile.

“look, please just talk to him.” she says, giving me a look.

i sit in silence fidgeting with my fingers. she places a hand on my fingers, and i look up at her. “okay.”

she claps enthusiastically, standing. “yay, y/n!”

i laugh. “im gonna go find myself another drink. want anything?” i shake my head. she blows me a kiss, and walks off, her dress swaying gracefully with each step.

i sigh, standing up. i look over at the couple next to me.

“you guys can—y’know—do your thing.” i gesture to the sofa. they give me a thumbs up, and immediately lay down, continuing. gross.

i make my way outside, onto the front porch.

i sit, flinching at the cold pavement against the back of my thighs. my skirt was very short, and i didn’t have any tights.

the door opens and shuts behind me, and i turn around to meet a very familiar face. “matthew.” i say. “y/n.”

he walks past me, and unlocks his car. i watch him stop, and turn around. “wanna—come with?” i give him a confused expression.

“we need more ice. im just gonna run to a gas station.”

i shrug, and stand, walking over to his car. matt opens the door for me, and i give him a small smile, stepping in.

after waiting in the car for a while, matt finally exits the gas station, carrying the last bag of ice. about time.

he gets in the car, wiping his now wet hands against his jeans. “took you long enough.” i tease. matt chuckles.

“i know, usually doesn’t take me that long to get my hands this wet.” he smirks. i shake my head, looking out the window, attempting to hold my laugh in.

“let’s just go.”

the drive back was silent. (minus the ice tumbling around in the backseat.) we caught almost every red light, and matt and i would just shift in our seats, trying not to make eye contact with one another.

as we pull in the driveway. i unbuckle my seatbelt, trying to get out of this situation as quickly as possible.

“so, we aren’t gonna talk about it? at all?”

i knew it.

i turn around, and sigh. “fine. let’s talk, matt.” i say with a long stare. he clenches his jaw, and rests his hands on the steering wheel.

“we had sex. big deal.” i throw my hands up in the air dramatically. matt scoffs and looks at me, almost as if he was about to cry. “it was a big deal to me.” he stares.

i purse my lips together. “well, it doesn’t seem like it, seeing as you lack common communication skills.”

“i wanted to text you, or call you—just hear your voice at all after that night, but i was too afraid.” matt looks out the window beside him, and gently taps the steering wheel with his fingertips.

my face softens, and i slowly reach out to the place a hand on his. but before i even reach him, i pull away.

“why were you afraid, matt?” i question. i was genuinely curious to hear his answer, too. matt had gone full no contact with me after that night, all because he was afraid? it just didn’t make sense.

“because i like you.”

my eyes widened as the words left his mouth. i didn’t know what to say—how to even respond. it was insanity.

did i like matt? i mean, i guess.

no—sure—yes.

yes, i do like matt. i just get my feelings mixed up and lost in my mind. i mean, could we really work?

“y-you do?” i stutter out. matt turns around, and im left to drown in his eyes. he softly nods, and i form a smile.

i look down at my hands and begin to fidget with my rings, swallowing before i speak. “i like you too.”

i look up to see a smiling matt, and i grin back.

i sigh, looking out the window. “look at us, using the word ‘like’ to describe our feelings. what’re we, five?” i laugh, making him chuckle.

i turn back toward him, and matt immediately smashes his lips onto mine. i lean in, him caressing my cheeks.

matt swings an arm around my waist, fully pulling me onto his lap. i smile against his lips, reaching down and unbuckling his seatbelt beneath me.

matt bucks his hips up at the feeling of my fingers on him. i feel his bulge rub against my bare thigh, and he pulls away.

“s-sorry. is that weird?”

i shake my head. “not at all. it just shows that you really do like me.” i say with a smile, placing a hand on his jaw, and pulling him into me again.

matt takes off my cardigan, tossing it in the passengers seat. he places his hands on the seam of my miniskirt, and stops, pulling away. “can i?”

pushing my lips back onto his, i mumble “yes”, and matt pulls away again. i sigh irritably, and he gives me a look.

“use your words if you want this.”

i bite my bottom lip, matt’s eyes on them. i bite the inside of my cheek, and look out the window. matt places a soft hand on my jaw, turning me to look at him.

“hey, if you don’t want to do this, we can just head back inside. i’ll just be glad that we’re good again.” he smiles.

i nod, and he raises an eyebrow. “i want to do this.”

matt’s smile turns into a smirk, and he pulls my skirt up to my waist, places both hands on my ass. i smash my lips back onto his, smiling against him.

matt tightens the grip on my hips, leading them. i slowly begin to grind against his clothed bulge. matt pulls away, breathing heavily against the side of my face.

i continue, matt now kissing down my neck, struggling to contain himself. he’s practically digging his fingers into my skin, guiding my hips.

i pierce my lip with my teeth, trying to stop the moans that threatened to escape my mouth. “matt…”

“almost…” he pushes himself against me, making the sensation even more intense. my panties are probably a leaking mess on him as my eyes begin to water from the stimulation.

matt slows to a stop, and he catches his breath. i breathe heavily into his neck, my mascara smudging on his skin.

he pulls me off of him to take a look at my face.

“are you okay? was it too much?” he questions, genuine worry taking over his expression. i wipe the smudged mascara off of my face, smiling at him. “i’m okay, matt.”

he pulls me in, hugging me tightly. “i’m so glad we’re good now. i’ve missed you so much, y/n.” i grin widely.

i pull away, sniffling. we just stare at eachother, and i look down, my skirt still at my waist. “we should probably fix ourselves before we go back inside.” i say through a breathy chuckle.

“yeah.” matt replies. i climb off of his lap, pulling down my skirt in the passenger seat. matt looks down at his jeans, a wet spot on his crotch. i stifle my laughter, matt turning to look at me.

“i can’t go inside like this.” he says through a laugh.

“at least they’re dark wash denim.” i shrug, still laughing. he scoffs, and attempts to wipe it off.

“matt, it’s not going anywhere. it’ll be fine, it’s pretty dark inside anyway.” i reassure. he looks up at me, a small smile on his lips.

we climb out of the car, matt grabbing the slightly melted ice. “probably could’ve chosen a better time to do that.” he jokes.

we enter the foyer of the house, mia meeting us at the door. “soooo, are you two good now?” she asks eagerly.

i look at matt, and he gives me a smile.

“yeah, we’re good.”

[eddiemunsons-missingnipple]

Time of the month

Eddie Munson x reader

Summary: You started your period, and Eddie tries to help.

Warnings: fluff, menstruation, mention of sex.

A/n: Not proofread. no minors allowed.

The front door slamming startles you in your spot, huddled in various blankets and pillows. Eddie scans the dark living room in search of you until his eyes land on your figure. There you were hidden beneath all sorts of fluffy blankets with the ever curtain closed.

He laughs to himself, "Hey sweetheart, I'm home."

You look over to him, faking a smile. "Hi."

Eddie frowns." What's wrong? "

"Got my period." You murmured.

He pouts out his bottom lip, moving closer, sitting next to you. "Anything I can do?"

You shake your head no, leaning over to lay your head on his chest. Immediately, Eddie wrapped his arms around you.

"I heard sex can be the cure." He half joked.

You groaned, hiding your face. "Eddie!"

He lets out a belly laugh and moves to stand bending down to give you a quick kiss. He kicked off his boots and placed them by the door.

"M'just playin." He smirked.

"No, you weren't." You pouted.

His smirks grew wider as he watched you."Yeah, you're right, doesn't hurt to try."

If you weren't in the state you are right now, he'd call you cute, but he knows better.

"You sure? I can really pound those cramps outta ya." He joked again, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively.

All you could was groan at his attempt to make you laugh.

Eddie is in a playful mood, and you were absolutely not. Your cramps had you hunching over in pain. You went through three pairs of panties after bleeding through them by accident. The last thing on your mind is sex. You know he's really just joking deep down, but the thought makes you wince a little. You've been in the same position all day. Huddled under numerous blankets you could find with a heating pad on standby.

He puts his hands on his hips, looking around his trailer. You could tell he's trying to come up with a solution to your problem. Unfortunately, the only solution is dealing with it for four days until it's gone.

Eddies' coveralls were covered in grease from the dirty cars he'd been fixing all day. You could see some of the grease smudged on his neck and face. His five o'clock shadow thickening up around his jaw. If it wasn't for your period, you'd definitely would take him up on his offer. You always thought he looked good on a daily basis. But there was something about how he looked after coming home from a long day at work that made you want to jump on him.

"Wanna take a shower with me?" Eddie spoke softly.

Your face softened, and the pout that was close to being permanent on your face disappeared. "Yea."

"After we clean up, I'm gonna order out and rub your back. You like that?" Eddie walked over to help you stand. Taking your hands into his.

"Mmhmm--id like that a lot, but you don't have to." You tried to argue feeling slightly guilty.

A back rub sounded like heaven, but he's been at work all day. The last thing he should be doing is waiting on your hand and foot. You were perfectly fine resuming what you've been doing all day anyway.

"Ah, ah, don't start. Let me help make you feel better." His tone is gentle, but his face was serious. You knew there was no arguing your way out of this.

"Okay, can we rent a movie too?" You sighed, wrapping your arms around him in a hug.

"Of course, whatever you want." Eddie squeezed you tighter to him.

He leads you to the shower and helps you undress. You asked him about his day loving how worked up he got at his coworkers sometimes. Eddie told about how some guy came in for an oil change that ended up lasting hours since the poor man had never had one before. You washed his hair, running your nails through his scalp. He hummed every time you did that for him. You swore if he was a cat, he'd be purring right now.

"All done?" Eddie asked, moving around to block the water from hitting your face.

"All done." You smiled, playfully tugging on his chin, causing him to giggle.

"Let's get you warmed, and then I'll make you feel better for a little while." He whispered.

Eddie did as he promised. He fed you. Warmed you up in his arms as you cuddled in his lap. He rented you The Princess Bride to watch. When the movie was over, Eddie guided you to the bedroom where he rubbed your back until you finally fell asleep.

"I love you." He bent over to kiss your cheek.

"Love you too." You muffled in your pillow. You were relaxed and your cramps subsiding. Sleep overtaking your exhausted body.

[revasserium]

hiii i'm a new follower and i love your writing so much

ik u said no requests in ur bio but i just finished reading ur sanji fic.. so even if ur still not taking requests i'd just like to throw in an idea that u may or may not feel like using in the future, up to you (i'm requesting this with opla sanji in mind but if u wanna use it for zoro that's cool too)

k so imagine reader being invited to a friend's wedding, & being excited to go until they find out their ex is coming too (with their partner of some amt of yrs). so now reader is pressured to bring someone w/ them & ends up asking their best friend sanji bc they don't want others thinking they're still hung up on the past.

wedding dress

opla!sanji; 6,544 words, pining with a happy ending, fluff and a tad of angst, flirting, lovesick!sanji, whipped!!!!sanji, no "y/n", zeff is a whole mood, confessions, sanji-appropriate nickname usage, modern!au?

summary: you invite sanji to be your plus 1 at a wedding

a/n: im so sorry this took so long. but. better late than? never? also, there is a tiny bit of rehashing for ep 6 of the live action for sanji and zeff's relationship so... spoilers?

It’s a chilly, overcast kind of day when the call comes in. And in retrospect, Sanji thinks he should’ve known better when he’d seen your name on the caller ID. He’d hesitated, because by god if it wasn’t his New Year's Resolution to get the hell over you this year, but it’s almost December again and he still can’t help the way his heart races at the sound of your voice.

“Hey sweetheart — long time no talk!” he answers after a brief moment of contemplating his entire life, dusting his flour-covered hands on his apron.

“Hey! Sorry for calling so… out of the blue…” your voice is still as sweet as ever, and the way his stomach twists at the tinkle of your nervous laughter makes him want to kick himself. Still, he forces himself to stay calm, clearing his throat as he checks the oven — it’s almost done pre-heating.

“Now you know what I said about actin’ a stranger — just because you moved halfway across the entire world doesn’t mean we ain’t best friends anymore, right?”

It’s what you’d said when he’d been standing at the airport, three seconds from dropping to his knees and begging you not to go. But he hadn’t, because he knew how hard you’d worked for this — for this opportunity abroad, to study art in the birthplace of the Renaissance itself, in the heart of Italy.

“And… you might be able to come visit me, right?” you’d said, rocking on the balls of your feet, your eyes full of what Sanji could only call false hope — which is always, always the worst and most painful kind.

Sanji had swallowed and nodded and said something or other about Europe and fine dining, but there’s a terrible, prickling heat eating up the back of his neck and a voice that’s screaming at him to pull you to him and kiss you. He doesn’t. And he regrets it to this day.

“Ah — right… I’m actually calling because… I’ll be in the area in about a week and…”

Your voice pulls him out of his reverie and he clears his throat, hitches a smile to his face that he knows you can’t see but he’s sure you can hear.

“Oh! That’s great, darling! You’ve gotta come for a drink, I’ll whip up all your favorites — we can make a night —”

“It’s actually for a wedding.”

There are a few moments in everyone’s lives when they learn the true meaning of a thing for the very first time — elation, pride, stomach-twisting guilt, and… fear. True fear, the kind of fear that shakes the muscle from your bones and sends them tingling, threatens to overwhelm you with numbness. Fear, that pushes adrenaline through you like a drug, forces the world into a terrifying, all-consuming focus.

Sanji feels the fear coursing through him, wild and contentious at your words.

A wedding.

Your wedding? Perhaps?

He can’t bear to think of it; he’s so terrified he can barely breathe.

Then comes the moment after, the wave of everything else that the fear had washed away — confusion, anger, guilt (always guilt, for some reason), because isn’t he supposed to be happy for you? For you, the person he loves most in this entire world, to find love, to know happiness. He should. He should.

“Oh.”

Sanji sags back against the hard, metal counter. Almost mindlessly, he reaches into his pockets with shaking hands, digging around for a smoke.

Your breath is soft in his ear, too far across the phone line and a thousand miles of ocean.

“I originally wasn’t even planning on going — she’s not a very close friend — we had like one class together but —”

And within the span of a minute, Sanji also learns relief. The kind that melts the world around you into sizzling butter and champagne bubbles. The kind that makes you want to lie down on the ground and scream.

“— it was so close to your restaurant so I said yes but I didn’t know he was gonna be there and —”

You’re still talking, rambling like you do. And it takes nearly everything inside Sanji to pull himself back to the conversation.

“Sorry, love, who did you say was gonna be there?”

“My ex — you know the one —”

Sanji grimaces, flicking on his lighter with still-shaking fingers.

“Mm, yeah I do. The tall, dark-haired bastard who —”

“Yeah well — he’s gonna be there too and I just —” he hears you swallow hard and take a long, steadying breath. An unnameable something is calcifying in the depths of his stomach as he waits for you to collect yourself.

Curiosity? Why had you called like this, so suddenly, about a wedding where your ex was going to be? Concern? Were you thinking of going back to him?

But slowly, as you stutter through your next few words, the unnameable thing obtains a name — dread.

“— I just don’t think I could do it myself, y’know? And — and you were the one who got me out of it wh-when I decided to break it off with him so…”

Sanji takes a long drag of his cigarette and casts his eyes up at the high, white-slabbed ceiling of the kitchen, scored with long strips of bright, fluorescent lighting that floods the entire room in a direct, unforgiving glow.

He closes his eyes and counts to three.

“Course I’ll come with you, darlin’. It —” he wets his lips, taps off a bit of ash from his cigarette, and sucks in through his nose, clearing his throat of the words still lodged there, “— it’d be my honor.”

Relief — he hears it in your voice, and by gods he can almost see it — the way your whole face would light up, washed as if by the setting sun, your eyes wide and dark, your cheeks flushing his favorite fucking shade of pink and —

“Thank you, thank you, thank you! I really owe you for this one —”

Sanji makes a valiant effort at a nonchalant chuckle; it comes out sounding like a dog with a bit of bone stuck in its throat instead.

“Nonsense — what are best friends for, anyway?”

There’s a tiny pause where Sanji can feel the words best friend scraping along the insides of his mouth, barbed and harsh, leaving his tongue feeling raw and metallic.

“You really are the best friend anyone could ask for,” your voice is soft and honest and Sanji wants nothing more than to chuck his phone into the industrial blender.

You tell him that you’ll send him the details, that you can’t wait to see him soon, that you’ve got a world and a half of catching up to do, that you’ll buy him so, so many drinks, and that you’ll come bearing presents. He laughs at the right times, makes soft noises of consent and agreement, and when finally, finally you tell him goodbye, he clicks off the phone and takes another long drag of his smoke.

And then, he whips his hand back and throws the cigarette butt into the large sink, where it tinks against the metal and sizzles sadly in the murky dishwater.

“Real sucker for punishment, aren’tcha, lil’ eggplant?”

Sanji groans, turning around to find Zeff with his arms folded, the hip to his bad leg propped against a counter.

“Will you fuck kindly off — can’t you see I’m going through a thing here?”

Zeff snorts, clunking unevenly towards him.

“You been going through that thing for the last year and a half since you chickened outta askin’ her to stay so —”

“I didn’t chicken out — I — it was her dream to go to Florence and study —”

“And what was your dream then, ey?”

Sanji bangs his palm against the counter and sighs, “It’s not like I could leave you here with —”

“With what? A thriving restaurant business that I started? A guest list out the door and round the corner —”

“I — I helped!”

Zeff rolls his eyes, “Ah sure ya did, but I never asked you to, did I?”

Sanji huffs, pressing his tongue to the roof of his mouth to stop the torrent of horrible, sad, acrid things he could say and could never mean, so he swallows them back down. When he looks up next, Zeff is still standing there, but there’s a softness around his eyes.

He opens his mouth a few times, but eventually, all he says is, “The oven’s over heatin’.”

Sanji swears and jumps up to tug open the oven door. A wave of hot air whooshes out and nearly catches him in the face. Behind him, he can hear Zeff’s dark, gravelly chuckle, and the dull clunk of his wooden leg.

“You burn the kitchen down, you pay for it.”

And then he’s gone again, leaving the door swinging behind him, and Sanji very much alone with the too-hot oven and a counter full of things he can’t really remember the recipes for anymore.

Nearly a week later, Sanji finds himself standing at the airport, rocking on the balls of his feet, nearly in the exact same place as he’d been a year and a half prior. Except this time, you’re not walking away from him. You’re walking back towards him. He wonders if there’s a name for deja-vu in reverse and comes to the realization that that’s just called… a memory.

And memory seems to work in strange ways now, images superimposing themselves on top of one another — the flicker of a film lens, the bat of an eyelash, the shadow of a smile crimping the corner of your lips. All of this, he sees in the here and now, but he sees it in the air around you too, shimmering and mirage-like — all his memories and dreams of you layered over the shape of you. Your memory like a ghost of itself, trailing behind you as you walk towards him, a shy smile on your face, your cheeks flushed from travel and the cold and —

He doesn’t let himself hope. Not this time.

“Hey!” your voice is just as bell-like as he remembers it, pitched a little higher than it usually is, probably out of nervousness. But it still feels like a kick to the guts. Sanji forces himself to smile.

“Hi, love,” he says, leaning down as you reach him, but the motion aborts halfway because — is it still appropriate to hug you like he’d always done? To press his lips to your cheek or your hairline and revel in the bright citrus of your shampoo, to soak in the butter and cream of your skin like he used to?

There’s an awkward half-second pause before you’re standing up on tip-toe and Sanji’s heart nearly drops out of his ass as you lean in. But then — your lips skim by his cheek and your arms are around him, and stupid, stupid, stupid heart — thundering in his chest like horses or hooves or fists or thumping rabbit’s feet — leaping into his throat and pattering against the base of his tongue as he wraps his arms around you and holds you close. But it’s not close enough. It’s never close enough.

He breathes and distantly, a part of him notes that you still use the same shampoo.

“Hi…” your voice is warm by his ear, a bit muffled, but he can’t help the way it makes him shiver, “It’s… so good to see you.”

He nods, not trusting his own voice to do the normal thing and, oh, you know — work.

“I’ve — I’ve missed you.”

He makes a noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough as he nods again. He feels your arms slackening around him and a fierce, terrifying thing is flapping its wings in his stomach, screeching at him not to let you go. But he does — like he did before.

“I — I missed you too,” he says, though his voice sounds flat and scratchy and he clears his throat again.

A dozen different expressions flicker across the lovely planes of your face and finally, it settles on endeared exasperation.

“Please don’t tell me you still work through like three packs of smokes a day.”

Sanji laughs then, shaking his head as he reaches over for your luggage, “Nah — well, maybe not three but —”

You whack him softly on the arm.

“I actually tried to quit right after you left.”

“You did?”

Sanji shrugs as the pair of you start to make for the exit. He feels your gaze go slanted and shrewd.

“How long’d that last?”

He smirks, “Few hours.”

You whack him again and this time, he dodges out of the way just to bask in the bright spark of your laughter as you chase after him.

“Seriously though, you know how terrible they are for you!”

“Sure do,” he says, tugging one out of his pocket as soon as he clears the airport doors, pivoting left towards the parking garage. You have to jog to keep up with his longer strides, your breaths misting the air between you in silvery puffs.

He makes no move to light it as he helps toss your luggage into the trunk of his car, sliding into the driver’s seat. You huff as you wiggle into the passenger’s side.

“Then why —”

Sanji waits patiently for you to buckle your seatbelt before pulling out of the parking space, one hand on the steering wheel, the other resting soft against the middle console. He slates you a glance.

“Cause,” he says, fixing his eyes back on the road, an easy smirk twisting his lips, “it’s a metaphor.”

You groan, sinking into the seat, “Just because you read John Green one time —”

“Oi, I’ll have you know I read his entire bibliography after you showed him to me.”

“Ugh, whatever you manic-pixie-dreamgirl-loving ass.”

“Yeah, whatever — you actual manic pixie dreamgirl.”

You smile and Sanji allows himself the brief and aching delusion that the past year and a half didn’t happen, that you never left, and that you’d never leave. That you’d always be here, warm and laughing and just within reach.

The rest of the car ride is spent in mundane conversation, in how was your flight and tell me about Florence and how’s Zeff doing these days and I wanna know about your latest dish. It’s light and easy, and Sanji lets it warm the air around him. By the time he pulls into the front of your hotel, all the unsaid words from the past year and a half have soaked through his socks and into his shoes. It sloshes out onto the pale pavement as he opens the car door.

He helps you roll your luggage up into the lobby and tells you he’ll be here at 3PM to pick you up tomorrow. The venue’s just three blocks away.

“Yeah, I’ll see you then,” you say, pursing your lips, waving as he backpedals towards the automatic doors.

“You’ve still gotta send me pictures of the dress you’re wearing — I gotta find a matching tie.”

You laugh, a bit embarrassed, “Right — and here I thought I might surprise you.”

Sanji freezes, eyes wide.

“O-oh! Er — well, you can just — just tell me what color or —” he waves vaguely, “send a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against —”

You nod, eyes glittering, eager once more, “Oh! That’s a good idea — I’ll do that.”

“Great,” Sanji says.

“Great!” you echo, perhaps a bit too chipper.

He gives you one last smile before turning and striding from the hotel, firing up the engine as calmly as he can, forcing himself not to turn and check if you’re still watching him through the brightly lit, sliding glass doors. He allows himself a glance through the rear-view mirror as he pulls away from the drive and his heart skips a beat when he realizes you’re still standing there, right in the middle of the lobby, fingers wrapped around the handle of your suitcase, your eyes fixed on the shadow of his retreating car.

He lights the smoke the second he turns the corner, your shadow no longer in his rear-view mirror.

That night, Sanji dreams in fits and leaps, flashing images and long, sticky streams of could-have-beens —

He dreams of your laughter in a white-tiled kitchen, of powdered sugar and eggshells cracked and leaking on an exposed wood counter, chopsticks clinking against a thick glass mixing bowl. He dreams of your voice echoing off the shower tiles as you sing off-key, the way you used to when you’d sneak into his college dorm for movie night and a midnight snack. He dreams of coffee mugs and errant rose petals and dandelion seeds blowing in the wind. He dreams of dancing with you in his arms in a darkened dorm room that morphs into a bigger room with a softer carpet, one that he’d never seen before but he knows implicitly (like bodies know) is his home — it has pictures on the walls, trinkets lining the far bookshelf, your favorite scarf draped over the back of the well-worn sofa.

In the dream, you pull your head back from where it's pillowed against his shoulder and smile up at him. He leans down to kiss you, his lips hovering half an inch from yours.

Sanji jerks awake to the sound of his alarm, fingers fumbling for his phone, groaning as he smashes the orange snooze button and flips over to bury his face back into his lumpy pillow.

“Ah… fuck.”

It’s not the first time he’s had that dream, and he knows it won’t be the last. But it’d been so real that night, real enough to make him wonder if it just might come true.

He rubs at his sleep-crusted eyes and peers blearily at all the notifications on his screen. There’s a text from you with a picture attached. He clicks it open to find a short message attached to the picture — I really did want to surprise you…

He blinks for three seconds at what looks like a blurry picture of studded black silk before he remembers —

“Send me a picture of a corner of the dress — just so I have something to color match against.”

He allows himself a laugh, swinging his feet out of bed even as he types back — you coulda just told me it was black…

He watches the three little dots appear and disappear a few times, chewing on his bottom lip, before the text appears — well there are different shades of black, right???

Sanji laughs, shaking his head.

sure there are.

A string of tongue-out emojis, followed by an equally long string of middle-finger emojis.

He spends the rest of the morning fussing over which specific black tie to wear before settling on one that he’s quite sure is the exact same shade of black as your dress (and yes, he does have quite the collection of black ties), before tugging his best suit out to press.

It shouldn’t feel so easy, slipping back into the rhythm of things, of texting and smiling and hearing your voice in his head when he reads your texts. It shouldn’t feel so easy to forget the months of radio silence and guilt, the oppressive, resonant weight of what might have been if either of you had done a single thing different that day at the airport — he wonders if he should’ve reached for your hand, he wonders if you’d ever looked back.

He hadn’t. He couldn’t let himself.

He is waiting for you in the lobby at 2:45, wearing a hole into the plush Persian carpet, collecting strained looks from the concierge who had assured him three times in the last four minutes that he’d already rung up to your room and that you’d said you were on your way.

“Wow, you’re early — sorry I took a while — I couldn’t figure out what to do with my hair and —“

Sanji lifts his head and thinks distantly that all those rom-com cliches of a guy looking up, time itself slackening, the room smearing sideways around him, the music going slow, the lighting soft — all of it is painfully, startlingly true after all.

Because there you are, walking towards him, still saying something, but he can’t make out the words anymore because time isn’t really a thing anymore, is it? He can’t focus on that and also the dark glimmer of your dress, the way the neckline skates just beneath your collarbones, barely skimming the skin there before it slips down along the slope of your shoulders in a way that makes his breath unspool inside his chest like loose threads.

And in the slanted, ethereal light of the winter afternoon, your dress looks like it’s cut from a swath of darkest midnight, moonless and scattered with stars.

You blush as Sanji attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor and hitch his lips into something resembling a smile.

“W-wow… you look…”

Your smile is shy as you press your palms against the dress, looking down, “Thanks… you don’t think it’s… too much?”

Sanji shakes his head, feeling dazed.

“No! I mean — it’s —“ his mouth is dry, drier than he ever remembers it being, and suddenly it’s very hard to swallow and Sanji isn’t even sure the muscles in his neck know how to perform the action, let alone force words out alongside it. He struggles for another few seconds, his jaw working furiously as his eyes skitter down and back up the shape of you.

“You look… perfect,” he says, finally, because the word has been ricocheting around his chest like a stray bullet and he had to let it out somehow.

“Thanks — you don’t look so bad yourself,” you say, your voice breathy in a way that makes Sanji’s stomach squeeze.

He offers you his arm, and you glide forward to take it.

He drives the three blocks to the wedding venue in a daze, his mind spinning slow and off-axis, tilted so by the gentle waft of your perfume, the lullaby of your voice as you chatter nervously about this and that and the weather, I mean, can you believe it’s gonna be an outdoor wedding in the winter? He wonders briefly why you’re so nervous, and then he’s reminded of the reason he’s even here at all — your ex will be here. Ah. Right.

“Ready?” he asks, offering you his arm again as the both of you follow the meandering stream of arriving guests toward the paved outdoor garden area where the ceremony is due to take place.

“No, but… you’re here so…” you let out a breath and for a second, Sanji almost thinks he hears the hint of an ache in your voice. An ache like an old scab picked at too many times, like unrequited love, perhaps. It’s an ache with which Sanji is so intimately familiar that he immediately tamps it down and vows not to think about it again for the rest of the night.

There are stiff-backed waiters wandering around with plates of hors d’oeuvres and thin flutes of bubbling pink champagne.

Sanji grabs two glasses and hands you one.

“Cheers, then.”

“Bottoms up,” you say, tossing back the entire flute in one.

Sanji cocks his eyebrows, grinning as he follows suit, smacking his lips.

“Alright then, I guess if that’s how you’re playin’ —”

Your laughter is light, if a little strained, but he remembers how quickly bubbly drinks tend to go to your head and makes a concerted effort to slow down. You make it all the way through the actual ceremony without bumping into your ex, though you do lean over and grab Sanji’s hand as the bride and groom exchange vows — something about love being a choice, one that they promise to make every morning of every day for the rest of their lives — and he looks over to find you misty-eyed, bottom lip caught beneath your teeth.

“Sap,” he whispers, leaning over. It earns him a choked laugh and a half-hearted elbow in the ribs, but it’s worth it to see the tension melt from your shoulders.

Sanji turns back towards the bride and groom, exchanging rings now, and unbidden comes the images of you and him standing where they are — you in a dazzling white gown, him still in a dark suit, but one perhaps of more expensive material and much better tailoring. He thinks about all the things he might promise you, wonders at what you might promise him in return —

“I promise to love and cherish you —” you might say.

“I promise to make all your favorite foods,” he might say.

“I promise not to touch your emotional support le creuset pans.”

“I promise not to make you taste all my experimental dishes —”

“Okay, but what if I want to —”

He imagines the way the crowd would titter, how the officiator would affectionately clear his throat. He imagines Zeff’s warm, well-worn laughter, rough and a little torn at the edges because he’s just as sentimental as the next guy behind all the beard and gruffness. He imagines the crowd smiling up at the pair of you, the way you’d squeeze his hands to get the both of you back on track —

He jerks out of his reverie as you tug your hand away from his to clap, and it takes him a beat to realize that everyone else is clapping and cheering too. He blinks — the bride and groom are kissing, pulling apart as the music swells around them and they link hands to walk back down the aisle.

Sanji clears his throat and hurriedly gets up to clap as well, his eyes trailing the radiant smiles on both the newlyweds’ faces. Another sharp ache sings through him but he feels your hand in his again and he can’t tell if he wants to grip you tighter or pull away. They’d both hurt just as much, wouldn’t they?

“C’mon, let’s get inside — I wanna judge the catering with you,” you whisper, your breath tickling his cheek, and he knows without having to look that you’re standing on your tiptoes, your chin almost propped on his shoulder.

He fights down a bout of shivers and smiles, “My favorite part of any formal event, honestly.”

You laugh, “I know — me too.”

So you spend the entire dinner service whispering to each other about the food —

“God, this steak is so well done I think it just might dislocate my jaw —”

“What’s in this sauce?”

Sanji chews thoughtfully before making a face, “Dunno, but it’s got oregano.”

“Oh the cake looks good though.”

“Yeah, but we both know how much sugar and butter goes into that right?”

You nudge him with an elbow, “Weird, cause I’m pretty sure happiness is also made of sugar and butter.”

“Well for me, it’s always been…” but Sanji trails off, biting his tongue. No. He can’t say that — not now. Not here.

Because for him, happiness has always just been you.

So instead, he swallows passed his own mouthful of regrets and attempts a lopsided grin. And thankfully, your attention is drawn elsewhere by a loud peal of laughter before he has to make a shitty joke about happiness being a well-lit kitchen and a gas-lit stove.

You’re both at least a bottle of champagne deep when it finally happens, inevitable as a summer storm — your ex saunters up to you on the dance floor, sporting a grease-slick grin, eyeing you up and down like a piece of well-cut meat. Sanji is at the bar, grabbing more drinks and you’re catching a breath of fresh air just outside the dance hall.

“Well, well, well — look who it is.”

Sanji turns sharply at the sound of the voice, his eyes narrowing — Asshat. Fantastic. The bartender is putting the finishing touches on two custom cocktails but blinks, confused, as Sanji swipes both drinks out from the bar and casts him a hurried grin.

“Thanks mate, these look great,” Sanji raises the cocktail glasses at the bewildered bartender before hurrying off, slowing ever so slightly as he reaches you, straightening his spine and smoothing out his shoulders.

“Here, got them special-made for you,” he says, pressing the cocktail into your hand, cutting into something that Asshat is saying.

“Oh! Thanks — oh wow, this looks so good!” you beam up at him, taking a sip.

“Oh wow, didn’t know you were still hangin’ out with this guy,” Asshat says, hooking his thumbs into his belt-hoops and jutting out his chin.

You frown, pressing your lips, “Excuse me?”

Asshat scoffs, posturing, “I mean, when we broke up, it was cause o’him right? So I just thought you might’ve realized what a mistake that was and —”

Sanji barely has the time to feel offended before Asshat is gasping and stumbling back. You’d tossed the remainder of your drink straight into his face.

“What the —” Asshat sputters, his fists clenching, but quick as anything, Sanji swipes out a leg that catches him right in the shins and makes him stumble. In one fluid movement, Sanji pushes his own drink into your hand before reaching out the other arm to steady the now flailing Asshat, catching him around the shoulders.

“Whoa there! Seems like you’ve had a bit too much to drink, my friend!” he says, loud enough for the people around you to hear. He thumps Asshat on the back in a would-be kind gesture before tugging him close, still coughing, and hissing in his ear —

“Listen here, you asswipe — you’re gonna turn around and walk away and stay the fuck away from us for the rest of this wedding, you understand? I’ve got plenty more o’this for ya if you don’t, got it?”

Sanji scuffs his foot along the gravel-covered ground in a motion that could easily be mistaken as fidgeting, but you know better. And so, it seems, does Asshat, who scoffs and shoves Sanji off him with a glare, but after another second, straightens his drink-soaked jacket, turns, and stalks away.

You let out a long breath, swallowing hard.

“Hey darlin’… you alright?” Sanji turns and bends down to level his eyes with yours.

“Y-yeah — thanks — you didn’t need to —”

“Nah. Course I did — it’s why you invited me, right?” he allows himself a lopsided grin that borders on self-deprecating and you look up, eyes wide.

“No! I — that’s not —”

“It’s okay, love — I promise I’m not offended —” Sanji’s babbling, he knows he is — but he has to, because the alternative of letting you speak, of letting you confirm what he already knows to be true (that you’ve only ever seen him as a best friend, that you love him in all the ways except for the one way he wants you to, in the one way he loves you) is too much. He tucks his hands in his pockets and shrugs up his shoulders, pulling them up towards his ears like armor.

And then you lean in and kiss him, and every single word he’s ever thought of saying just to fill the silence turns to mist and mornings on his tongue. His mind turns blissfully blank and when he regains consciousness (or has he? Because isn’t this the dream he’s dreamt every waking moment of his life for the past… however many years?), he thanks every god he can name that he feels his fingers in your hair, his other hand cupping the soft curve of your jaw. He tastes your uncertainty against his lips and presses in, hoping, praying that if he just kissed you hard enough you might understand.

When you pull away, he can’t help the satisfied purr that curls up his chest at the pinkness in your cheeks and the slightly glazed-over look in your eyes.

“O-oh — sorry I —”

Sanji shakes his head, leaning in to push his forehead against yours.

“Nah, nah, nah — if you tell me that was a mistake now I might just turn around and never speak to you ever again — because don’t you dare —”

You let out a helpless laugh, shaking your head as you reach up to cover his hands with yours. It’s only then that he realizes they’d been shaking. He swallows and he thinks he can taste every single morning after for the rest of his goddamn life in the whisper of your breath.

“It — it’s not, I wasn’t —” you close your eyes and Sanji holds you still, foreheads still pressed. Distantly, Sanji is aware that people are cheering, that more drinks are being poured, that the dance floor is probably a mess. But he doesn’t care. He doesn’t think he’ll care about anything else ever again — why would he? Now that he’s got you.

“Shh… take your time, love… we’ve got all the time in the world.”

He feels the relief take you, and then you’re falling into him, burying your face in the lapel of his suit jacket, probably smearing it with your foundation. Vaguely, Sanji considers framing it when he gets home.

“I’m… I’m sorry it took so long — I’m sorry I didn’t — that I wasn’t…” you curl your fist into the material of his shirt and thump him lightly on the chest, even as he laughs and wraps his arms around you.

“I know, darlin’… I know.” Sanji presses his lips into your hair and can’t help a smile.

Finally. Finally.

Your hair smells like citrus shampoo.

Finally.

“I thought about you every single day,” you admit, your voice small when you finally pull back to look at him again. He thinks there might be tears in your eyes, or maybe it’s just the starlight caught in the thick night sky of your lashes.

“Did you now?” he asks, fumbling for some semblance of normalcy amidst this night of revelations.

You nod, fervently, and god he wants to kiss you again. Briefly, he wonders if he should, if he’s allowed to now. Instead, he smiles and cocks his head.

“So? What changed?” and he can’t help the tiny note of hurt out of his voice, the slightest shiver of disbelief. After all, cynicism is a hard habit to break.

Especially after so many years of practice.

You shrug, sighing, “Nothing — everything. I mean — I’d always… but then I thought — you had your career as a chef and I didn’t even know what I wanted to do with my life. But it —” you lick your lips, and Sanji nearly breaks when you tear your eyes away from his. He wants to force you back, to soak in the dark and bright of your gaze till he can see the world exactly as you see it.

“It’s always been you…” you say.

At this, Sanji does break. He tips your face towards him with a thumb and a forefinger and leans in, waiting for you to pull back, bracing for it. But you don’t — instead, you press in and close the space between you again, and again, and then again.

He wants to tell you — he needs to tell you that it’s always been you too, that there’s never been anyone else. From the moment he first laid eyes on you, he’s known, even though both of you were children back then, and neither of you had any idea what “love” actually meant. He knew then, too.

“Love…” his voice trails off, but you smile, and he knows you know, knows that you can hear it in the rawness behind his voice, in the softness of his breath, in the way it shakes.

You make to kiss him again. But your lips hover half an inch from his and you stop. Sanji sighs.

“What — why’d you stop?”

Your smile is sweet and sharp, honey glinting on a razor’s edge, and he knows that he has you. And maybe that he’s always had you and was just too blind, too terrified, to see it.

“Haven’t you heard? It’s a metaphor.”

Sanji groans, “Fuck your metaphors.”

You bat your lashes, pulling an expression of mock affront onto your face.

“Well at least wine me and dine me first —”

Sanji licks his lips, “What’dyou think I’ve been trying to do for the last ten years?”

Your breath catches.

“Oh.”

Sanji smirks and kisses you again, slowly this time, languid and deep. Unhurried. He luxuriates in the way you go soft in his arms, in the way he can feel the gentle hitch of your breath as he runs his tongue along the edges of your teeth, coaxing you towards him, closer and closer and closer.

The hardest, angriest part of him wants to swallow you whole, bite down just to hear you hiss, to taste your blood on his tongue. To make you feel even a sliver of the pain he’d felt. He tamps it back down — there’s time for that later.

Instead, he forces himself to pull back and allows himself the satisfaction of watching you chase him, pursing your own lips with a bashful look away, your cheeks dark.

“So,” Sanji takes half a step back, puffing out his chest in the best imitation of a fuckboy at a wedding party, “wanna get outta here?”

You let out a helpless laugh, falling into his side. He lets the sound ring through him like so many silver bells.

“Yeah, I’d love that.”

He chuckles, looping an arm around your middle and leaning towards your ear.

“Your place, or mine?”

You roll your eyes, “I’m pretty sure I still have a toothbrush at your place.”

Sanji hums, “You still have a whole drawer at my place.”

You smile up at him, open and happy and sincere, “Then… I guess that’s your answer then.”

[whoahoney]

Eddie from Chili’s Pt 2

Waiter!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Part 1 Part 3

Summary: You go back to the restaurant to make your move on the cute waiter.

Warnings: fem!reader, no use of Y/n, fluff, reader is oozing anxiety, flirting, a couple allusions to spicy things, a kiss

A/N: As usual, you guys are amazing, and I always look forward to seeing your comments and hearing your thoughts on my silly little writings 💖

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You sat perched on the barstool, eyes wandering towards the familiar doors that led to the kitchen. The tables in his section were full so you sit at the bar.

There, you waited for the bartender to show up, staring down at your nails as you wait and began to wonder why the hell you didn’t paint them. You hear footsteps approach, shoes scuffing on the carpet behind the counter as the bartender— the brother— stepped up with a familiar smile, “Hi, there! What can I get for you?”

“Uh, can I get a Tito’s and lemonade?” You ask, thinking of the first drink you remember your friends loving.

He nodded, “For sure!” and grabbed a glass to fill with ice, and then asked to check your ID. “Awesome— Texas lemonade coming right up.” He nodded and handed it back to you, his attitude much more outgoing than Eddie’s had been, though both men were perfectly personable.

He set to work making your drink silently, nothing but the swish and rattle of the drink being poured over ice and the idle chatter of the dining room to be heard.

Your eyes scanned the room, checking all the moving bodies for that familiar head of hair, wondering if he was even here, for all you knew he could’ve quit by now.

“—Looking for someone?” The bartender asked. His name tag read Dakota.

You swallow and shake your head before looking down, “Oh! No, not at all.”

Dakota chuckled, “You sure? Your eyes are practically peeled.” He sat your drink in front of you and smiled.

“Thank you.” Is all you say before taking a tentative sip and trying not to wince at the tartness.

“Well, if you need anything, let us know.” He said before slipping away and into the kitchen.

You groan to yourself before resting your head on your fist and stirring the drink with the skinny straw you never use.

Absolutely pathetic. You sit and berate yourself for a minute, concluding that you’d drink half the glass before asking for some water to drive home.

“Long time, no see!”

Your head popped up to find Eddie behind the bar, walking towards you. Looking at you. Speaking to you.

You were at another loss for words, your mouth gaping and closing involuntarily as you searched for something to say. Eddie’s smile grew as you struggled and he leaned over the counter behind the bar. “I was hoping I’d see you again.” He muttered with twinkling eyes.

Your eyes flicker up to his, your heart warming and chest unclenching, “Oh?” You suddenly play coy, “Why is that?” you say, and take a drink.

Eddie’s eyes brightened at that, “Well, you’re the most polite customer I’ve had in months!” His eyes ran down your being. He snickered at your blush, leaning closer on his elbows as his brother left the kitchen with a platter in hand— working Eddie’s tables. “Not to mention the cutest.” He winked with that smug smile.

You give a breathy chuckle before you take another swig, earning a genuine laugh from him as you set down the half empty glass.

“Are you nervous?” He asked quietly, pressing back up on his hands, somehow even closer and not close enough. He oozed confidence and cool, like he did this all the time. Like he was so used to girls practically swooning for him, unable to speak.

You could only nod in response.

“Well, why’s that?” He shrugged, eyes trailing down your face as he appraised you.

You swallow and hope it wasn’t too loud, “I’m here to meet someone.” You cringe inside of yourself, what the fuck? This isn’t the plan??

“Oh.” His smug grin falls along with the twinkle in his eye. You hate how it makes you feel inside to see him disappointed.

“A friend.” You shrug. His eyes perk at that.

“Just a friend? —I mean, like, i-is your mom coming too?” He faltered, your smile rising as his cheeks reddened and he cleared his throat nervously before looking away.

“Mhm. Just a friend. Though my mom will be thrilled to hear Eddie from Chili’s asked about her.” You smile at the sound of his laugh.

“So you do remember me?” He asks with a smile of relief.

You nod shyly at your glass, stirring the water with the other useless straw. “Kinda hard not to.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He leans on his hands, hoping you’ll keep talking.

You sigh and roll your eyes before meeting his gaze, “You’re a … a really good waiter.” You settle.

Eddie chuckles heartily, something you wanted to hear over and over and over again. “Thank you, I try my best. My goal is ultimate customer satisfaction.” He widens his eyes for emphasis and takes note on your hitched breath. “So is there anything else I can get for you?”

“Oh! Uh…”

He watches you as he picks up a menu and sets it down in front of you. “I could just bring you some chicken fingers while you wait.” You look back up at him under your eyelashes, “Four of them, right?” He asked with a hidden smile as your cheeks burned.

“No, no it’s okay, I’m not hungry.” You shake you head. Eddie cocks his to the side in question but takes the menu back without a word.

“Well, uh,” he began as another patron sat down at the bar on the other side, “—I’ll be right back!” He said, happy for an excuse to leave and stay close.

You let out a sigh of relief as he walked up to the older man, easily striking up a conversation as he took his order and went about pouring something dark into a short glass.

Your phone chimes as a message comes in from your best friend, asking for a progress report. Before you can type a coherent response, you manage to send a thumbs up paired with a melting face as Eddie walks back over to you.

“Is there anything I can get started for your friend?” He asks. You put your phone face down on the bar, meeting his eye as the perfect excuse comes to mind, “No, actually, she isn’t coming.”

Eddie tsks though it’s apparent he isn’t bummed to keep you to himself for the rest of your stay. “Well, ain’t that a shame.”

You nod down at the counter top again before the words came spilling out of you unwillingly, “—Actually she wasn’t ever coming. I lied.” You feel like you’re going to throw up. Like actually. Your stomach knots itself, ready for the cute boy in front of you to look at you in disgust and have you escorted out for harassment or something.

“Oh?” Is all he asked, leaning on his forearms, getting closer to you.

You nod shamefully.

“So you did come for me?” He clarified.

You close your eyes as the blush worked up your cheeks, giving into your smile as you nod, again, but smaller. “That’s what you care about? Not that I lied?”

Eddie’s own smile grew, “Well, you’re a shy little thing, I don’t blame you.” He winked at your burning cheeks as he leaned closer, lowering his voice and letting you peek at the man behind the cool facade, “But, if you would’ve asked for my number, or left yours on the receipt like I wanted you to,” he chided, “I would’ve called, y’know. Or answered.” He shrugged.

You manage to look at him— really, look at him. The unease in your body began to uncoil as you observed how he looked at you; not like a meal, but with intrigue.

“And what if I asked for it now?”

“I don’t think you’d call me.” He shook his head with a knowing smile.

You scoff and ask, “Why not?”

He gave you a pointed look and let his neck go limp a little as if to say ‘really?’

“Okay, wrong question—well, if you wanted my number, why didn’t you ask for it?” You ask as you twist your glass idly on the coaster, trying not to look as curious as you felt.

“Pfft, yeah, and freak you out? Be the weird skeezy waiter— at a Chili’s, no less? Uh-uh. I’m above that.” He shook his head assuringly. You chuckle and look down at the cubes floating in your glass.

“I’ve never had to try to get a number here before,” He began, his eyes on the wood you’d been so focused on for the duration of your visit, “— kinda just happens for me, so… I was counting on that receipt having a name and number on it but…” he tsked and shook his head pointedly at you, “—Nope! Nada. Just a fat tip from your mom—which I totally appreciate, by the way.”

Your cheeks redden, “So…do you want me to ask for your number…?” You ask in confusion.

“Actually, I think I should ask for yours.” He said, idly wiping at the counter, “Since you’re scared.” He teased.

Your mouth gaped, “I’ll have you know I can be very courageous.”

He snickered down at the counter before looking back up at you, “Courageous enough to join me on my break in about ten minutes?” He nodded back into the kitchen.

You exhale, “Am I.. allowed?”

“—Yes, you’re allowed.” He scoffed and pushed your drink forward. “C’mon, Chicken Fingers, drink your liquid courage, and I’ll show you where I go hide about 10 times a day.”

“Ch-Chicken fingers??” You question, leaning forward with wide eyes and an incredulous smile struggling to be shoved away by the corners of your mouth and failing miserably.

Eddie beamed as you chuckled, a blush of his own warming his cheeks, “Well, I don’t know your name, so,” he shrugged, “It was either that or Quiet Quinn.” He managed with a plain face.

You narrow your eyes at the man until he breaks into laughter, the sound charming enough to make you smile along with him before you told him your name and he smiled again and reached out his hand for yours, clasping it firmly, “Nice to meet you, I’m Eddie.”

“I know.” You chuckle as you shake his hand.

“Ooh, I’ve never had a stalker before— how flattering.” He almost purred as he kept your hand in his, running his thumb over the back of your hand as he laid it on the counter and made no move to let it go.

You scoff and roll your eyes, letting him keep your hand, “My moms been hounding me about coming back for the last month.” You roll your eyes and take a sip.

“Oh, you’ve been talking about me with your mom?” He asks.

You wanna spit out the drink but instead your eyes widen and you tip it back farther until you finish it with a hardy gulp and set it down. “I’ll be taking the check now.” You say shamefully, closing your eyes.

You open them when you hear his laughter again, watching as he releases your hand and takes your cup, “That won’t be necessary, sweetheart.” He says it, even though he now knows your name, and begins to wash the glass.

You watch him quietly, the way the water splatters on his forearms and how his rings look when they’re glittering under the added shine and clanking against the glass he cleaned. “So what do you do?” He asked as he collected the old man’s glass without as much as a glance to him.

You jump slightly after being so dialed into his movements you have to quickly piece together your response, “Oh! Well, I’m in school for graphic design. And I work at a chiropractor's office scheduling people and whatnot.”

You study how he clutches the towel in his hand and turns the knobs of the sink before turning to dry the glass. “A secretary slash designer,” he mused as he polished the glass in his hands, “So you’re creative and good with computers, I’ll jot that down.” He smiled as he looked back up at you.

“What about you?” You ask as he puts away the glass and prints a ticket to hand to the gentleman waiting patiently. Eddie slides it over and watches at the man digs out cash and some change. You watch as he smiles and thanks the old man before sliding the cash off the table and scraping the coins into his hand and counting it before shoving it in the register.

Almost forgetting you asked a question, you watch as he washes his hands again and begins to replenish the supply of lime wedges—something you suppose is his brother's job. Maybe they switched jobs a lot because Eddie moved about the bar with an ease that felt practiced.

“Well, when I’m not being the world's best waiter, I work at a body shop installing glass on cars, sometimes some side jobs pulling dents if I can get ‘em.” He shrugged as he sliced them into perfect wedges.

You nod, “Do you like it?”

“Makes good money! Lets me do the stuff I’d rather be doing.” He chuckles to himself. You cock your head slightly before he finished putting the rest of it away and turning to the computer as he dried his hands again.

You watch him press a few buttons on the screen before it printed your ticket and he threw it away in the trash below and sent you one of those dazzling winks of his.

He leans forward on his elbows again, “Ready, Chicken Fingers?” He asks before glancing to his brother, busy taking an order at one of his corner tables.

You roll your eyes and glower with a poorly repressed smile as you give him a timid nod and hop off the seat.

Eddie walks around the counter, waiting for you at the kitchen doors. He takes your hand and guides you, opening the door and keeping you close, your hand fitting perfectly in his. He kept a firm hold on you as he dodged people in black and white, more people than you thought could fit back here.

“Hey, Eddie!” A line cook greeted him.

Eddie shot the guy a charming smile and wave with his free hand without stopping, “How’s it going, Hal?” He called before facing forward again, headed for the black door at the back.

The man answered Eddie but he didn’t care to continue the conversation, he just wanted out of there— wanted you out of there.

He opened the door to the back, where the dumpster resided with walls surrounding it— keeping divers from picking through their trash, you suppose.

Eddie lets go of your hand to reach for his carton of cigarettes, “You smoke?” He asked as he pulled one out.

You shake your head, “Sorry, no.”

Eddie pauses before idly flicking his lighter twice, “Don’t be! You mind if I…“ he gestures to the stick and bic in his hands.

“No! No, go for it. I don’t mind it, just never tried it.” You assure as he burned the end of the cigarette til it glowed. His cheeks hollowed as he sucked and nodded.

“Don’t ever do it!” He warned, mumbling around the filter before pulling it away, “You’re too pretty to smell like an ashtray.” Smoke slithered out of his mouth around his teeth as he spoke and stepped forward, blowing the rest of it to the side and waving it away from you and taking another pull and keeping his eyes on yours.

He was so close you had to look up at him, your bottom lip hiding between your teeth for a moment before releasing it. “Doesn’t stop you.” You quip almost proudly.

Eddie looked impressed, “Ooh! That was smooth, pretty girl.” He blew his smoke up into the sky, exposing the adams apple jutting out of his thick neck, oh so perfectly.

You wanted so badly to know what it felt like against your lips…

Caressed under your loving hand…

His face tilted back down to yours, a brilliant smile stretching across his face bit by bit. “You think I’m pretty?” He asked. You nod, a vacant smile on your lips, “Or is it the alcohol talking?” His brows pinched in the middle as he leaned down closer to you, as if to examine you for drunkenness.

You roll your eyes and cross your arms, “It was one drink! Besides— I thought you were pretty ever since I first saw you.”

“You been thinking about how pretty I am?” He asked in false curiosity.

That bashful smile crossed your face again before you nodded, “I already told you that.” You look down again and notice how he takes another small step forward.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” He smiled, the scent of his citrus cologne was muddled with the ribbons of cigarette smoke he blew into the air around you. The warm and spicy scent practically swarmed you the second he got closer, and you never wanted to smell anything else again.

“Why?” You shake your head.

“Cause I have that same Nirvana shirt you wore.” He shrugged one shoulder and your heart sank. “Like it better on you though.” He added.

You peek back up at him, brows raised in question as your eyes flicker from his eyes to his lips. “How do I know this isn’t something you just ‘do’?” You ask, crossing your arms and looking away from his stupid, handsome face.

“What, talk to pretty girls? I do all the time, it’s part of my job.” He took a toke, talking about the pretty girls he served like art on a wall he’s seen a dozen times. “But I can honestly say I haven’t brought any of them to my secret hiding spot.” He shrugged easily, no sign of defense lining his tone. “—Not to mention had any of them swallow their tongue at the sight of me and still come back! Maybe you are courageous, Chicken Fingers.”

You roll your eyes and push his chest playfully, sending him backwards a couple steps. He chuckled as he recovered and you crossed your arms with another smile you didn’t realize you wore, “So now what?” You look around the area, stray garbage littering the wet ground and the scent of the meat cooking on the grill wafting out of vent on top of the building.

“Depends.” Eddie takes another puff on the dwindling menthol.

You tilt your head, cocking it to the side and shift your weight to your hip, narrowing your eyes the slightest bit and appraising him, “On?” You scoff with a playful smile.

“On… if you wanna go on a date with me.” He rocked on his heels and threw the butt on the ground, almost hiding under his curly bangs.

You smiled and nodded, “…and if I say yes?” You can’t help but glance to his lips again as he smiled, shuffling forward, only inches away from your face.

“If you say yes… I can guarantee you’ll have the time of your life.” He analyzed your face, searching for the same hesitation that riddled your being the last time he saw you.

He didn’t find a trace of it. You kept your eyes on him, not shying away from his gaze.

“Then I say… we should go out sometime.” You smile shyly.

Eddie’s mouth hangs open in pleasant surprise, his eyes twinkled in excitement. “Ohh, you are smooth! How could I say no to that?” As if you’d asked him out in the first place.

If he were to get any closer your chests would be touching, he’d have to straddle his feet on either side of yours—getting that close he’d have you against the wall of the restaurant.

And you wanted him to, so badly.

He leaned down to your ear, “You gonna show me the time of my life?” He asked lowly.

You inhale deeply, trying not to shudder at the way his breath grazed your neck and ear, and nod, “I’ll give it my best.” You said almost breathily.

Eddie chuckles softly as he leaned back to appraise you, tracing your collar with his finger before curling it into the ends of your hair and twirling a strand for a moment, savoring the texture.

His gaze turned more serious as his other hand came up to your other shoulder for a warm and affectionate squeeze before he tsked, “I gotta get back in there, pretty girl.” He said glumly.

You nod understandingly, “Yeah, I should head out too.”

He nodded again at you and his eyes dipped down to your lips again, lingering like he had at your table a month ago. “I, uh, I can walk you to your car.” He nodded towards the gate in the wall, an almost shut padlock through the metal rings to keep it closed.

“Yes, please.” You say softly.

Eddie’s hands leave your shoulders, with a smirk, “So polite—y’know you say please more than anyone I’ve ever met.” He chuckles, taking your hand to lead the way around to the customer parking, only releasing it once to open the gate for you and shut it back.

The walk was quiet, and you relished the feeling of his hand in yours again. You refrained from holding onto his arm with both hands, wanting his hand in both of yours as you arrived at your car.

“This is it.” You say, coming to a stop in front of the hood. He nods at you, still keeping your hand in his.

“Well, thank you for coming back.” He smiled at your sheepish grin and stroked the back of your hand, “I look forward to seeing you again.” He added.

“You too.” You say cordially before squeezing his hand and turning to go before you can throw up everywhere.

“Wait a minute!” He tugged you back to face him, “I still need your phone number.” He pulled out his phone and promptly unlocked it, opening his messages and starting a new thread for you to put your number in. “Unless you wanna come back, again.” He smiled, charming the socks off you yet again.

You take it from him and type your number, noticing his use of a cute emoji next to your misspelled name. You chuckle to yourself and fix it for him, reading it all back to yourself twice before calling it good and hand it back to him, watching as he smiles at the screen.

“Fuck, strike one, huh?” He blushes and looks up from the screen as his thumbs hovered over the keyboard.

You chuckle and dismiss it with a wave, “Nothing that hasn’t happened before. Now is it Eddie with two E’s or three?” You question playfully and watch as he bites the inside of his cheek and sigh.

“It’s actually three E’s, an I, and one D— in that order.” He types a message before locking it and putting it back in his pocket.

You’re giving him a real laugh, and an eye squinting, cheek aching, smile that has him smiling right back at you as the chime of your phone in your pocket goes off and you just can’t stop smiling at him, your cheeks burning but loving every second.

You see the way he looks at you, like he wants to say something, maybe— looking kinda bummed, even. You flutter your eyelashes at him before tilting your head, “Is there anything else I can get for you?” You say just above a whisper, your heart pounding so hard you don’t know if you’re trembling or not.

Eddie’s smile quirks up higher on one side as that twinkle reappears in his pupils, licking his lips with a knowing in his eye that said he knew what he wanted, he just couldn’t say it. He just stared at your lips for a moment longer before shaking his head dejectedly.

“Are you sure?” You ask again, shamelessly looking at his lips before meeting his eyes again.

He parted his lips before he leaned in slightly he hears his name called across the lot, “Get back in here, man, Damon’s gonna be here any minute!” His brother hollered from the door.

“Just a second!” He turned away to call back, his hand still in yours. You decide the moment he turns back to you, you’re gonna go for it— you’re gonna kiss him.

“Sorry, he’s worried about our manager coming—“ You watch intently as he turns back to you, taking his other hand in yours before pushing up on your toes to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth, tingles surging up through your body.

You pull away as he freezes, alarmed. Your eyes widened, “Oh my god, is that not what you wanted me to do? I’m so sorry, I—“

He interrupts you by cradling your face in his hands, your face suddenly so warm in his touch. His hands were so soft and the rings were barely cool to the touch as he pressed them to your face in his gentle hold.

“—No! No, I mean, yes! Yeah, that’s what I wanted, just…“ his thumb brushes your bottom lip and your chest heaves as he pulls you in close and presses his lips squarely on yours, kissing you deep and slow before releasing your lips with a pop and lingering close to your face as the haze he cast out wrapped you up in warmth and content.

“—Oughta hold me over til I see you next. And you better text me, okay? Don't make me wait a month.” He warned.

You smile and nod as he releases your face.

“I work here every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday— noon til closing, in case you miss me too much.” He winked before pressing another kiss to your mouth and running across the lot as his brother stuck his head out the door to yell at him again.

You watch him until he’s back inside, breathless before sighing to yourself as you dig out your keys and hop in your car. When the engine turns over and your playlist connects to Bluetooth, you unlock your phone to find a message waiting for you from an unknown number.

You smile and tap on it, ready to add him to your contacts as ‘Eddie 🖤’, when you read the message you can’t help but let your head fall back and bring your knees to your chest as a Lizzie McAlpine song plays.

Eddie 🖤:

You blush, your heart swelling with the growing hope he’s as dorky and sweet on the side as he is handsome and gritty on the outside.

Another message came in just as you were about to type a response:

This is Eeeid, by the way. 😘

-

PART 3

-

(If I couldn’t tag you please check your settings 💖)

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[ggsbooks123]

Memories — part two of memory garden

warning: gets pretty angsty here and character deaths 😓 mentions of suicide (jude bby is guilt ridden)

summary: you don’t know how much longer you can take it. The thoughts eating away at you telling you to kill someone in your heart you knew was pure good… but what happens when the voices turn on you?

a lil disclaimer yall i mixed cressidas name with cresta without thinking and realised half way through… i couldn’t be bothered to go back and fix it so i continued using it 😭 cresta is cressida!

— —

The next morning I woke up to Boggs shaking me and asked me to step outside, the sun was only just making its ascent.

I notice my restraint is off, Boggs must have taken them off before waking me up, I took a deep breath. I wasn’t sure why he had done it, I was in no right mind.

My eyes lifted at the doorway, Peeta was right there… No. I shook my head, following Boggs out the door.

He stood gazing over the destruction of the city, I tightened my fist when the echo of a voice tried to break through. Not now. This was the outcome of war and nothing I did to them now would prevent this. But the voices never agreed.

“Wanted to check how you were feeling after your first night” He explained once I joined him at his side, it was nice that he cared.

I shrug, glancing back over my shoulder “I don’t think it’s a good idea that i’m here, I was getting help back at the district… I don’t know why i’m here” I definitely didnt think it was a good idea, Coin had sent me here knowing i was far from recovery.

“Coin always has a reason” Boggs muttered like he’d been reading my thoughts “I think she has no use for Katniss and Peeta anymore-“ He eyes filled in the blanks his words didn’t…

“She sent me to kill them” I whisper back realisation smacking into, I was a weapon, again. But it wasn’t the capital this time, it was the rebellion.

When will i be free?

The voice sounds almost sad and I realise that it’s not a voice, it’s my own thoughts. My own depressing and given up thoughts.

“She can try and turn you into some psycho killer but the people in that room care about you, even if you don’t see it. So do I, the three of you kids have seen more hell than anyone deserves” Boggs explains, finally turning from the city to face me. “You’re just kids”

I frown, glancing down at my hands. Kids. We weren’t even eighteen years old, it was something that defined so much about someone and id forgotten.

“Thank you” I whisper, movement from inside alerts me and I reach for my gun, what if Peeta took this distraction as an opportunity but then Katniss stepped out, my heart didn’t slow but my hands dropped.

“What’re you doing out here so early?” Katniss asked stepping closer but keeping a respectful distance, my hand clenched.

She’s with Peeta, they will kill us all. The desire to kill Katniss was easier to push down but when it came to Peeta is was a thirst for blood like no other.

I shake my head, not hearing what Boggs responded with.

“How are things?” Boggs doesn’t respond to this question so I glance up and see they both have their attentions on me.

How are things? I wanted to scoff, but I knew that I was an accident waiting to happen, they didn’t know what would set me off. Apparently just saying how are things is one example. I shake my head and I notice the flash of concern.

“I can only get better right?” I spit, I don’t mean for it come out like that but she flinches and Boggs places his hand on her shoulder.

I feel it, my hand moving on its own before my right slapped down on it, instantly both their eyes slammed to me and without further explanation i declare, “We need to put my restraint back on”

And with that Katniss went inside and woke the others and Boggs cuffed me again.

Finnick was the first to step out, alongside a girl with a vines blooming flowers across the left half of her shaved head “Jude, I wanted you to meet Cresta, she’d one of the directors for this whole thing”

I smiled lightly at her, hoping to be polite since she no doubt had to stay up for an hour and watch me last night. “Nice to meet you, are you from the Capitol?”

She nods, “Do I give off that capitol ignorance?” She asked as a joke but in her eyes I could tell she was pleading I said no which made me smile slightly wider. I liked her.

“No, no. I was just asking didn’t mean to hit right on the money” I shrugged, “Maybe after this I could read palms?” I raise an eyebrow at Finnick who seems to just be smiling at me. “What?”

“Nothing, just glad you’re finally started talking about an after this” And with that Cresta and him left me, sending my mind reeling.

After…

— —

The next few days were especially hard, we had to travel a few streets at a time due to these devices called pods, the game makers had created them, no death should be boring apparently.

One of the pods had contained thousands upon thousands of snakes, luckily they seemed to stop at a certain point. Just like in the games except we could activate them from a distance.

Some of the other pods though, made it harder to remember where I was and who my friends are. Boggs had set off the last pod, four explosions had destroyed the road before them and each explosive made unbidden thoughts enter my head.

Now we were slowly making our way through the Capital streets, it seemed bizarre to think that it was once luxury.

“How’re you feeling?” His voice breaks through everything, and my neck snaps to him as I take a step back, bumping into Finnick who seems to have noticed why and is already guiding me to walk again.

Peeta frowns, turning away for a moment before looking back at me “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you” Maybe he was trying to be nice, because we both knew it hadn’t been the reason.

“It’s- It’s okay. Really. Just a lot going on, and I think I’m feeling better. The questions that i’m asking help” I respond, trying to stay calm and push the voices away, though they’re not really there at the moment.

He seems to perk at my words before shooting over his shoulder “Ask one now, can’t hurt” I blow a breath, rattling through my brain for anything and then it clicked.

We’re back in the 75th Hunger Games, it’s a couple days in and we look utterly spent, I don’t even look like i’m making my next five steps.

I try to remember when this was, must’ve been right before the arena been destroyed, Peeta and I had run into the Careers and I’d paid with three strikes to my chest, Peeta not much better off.

The thought of the wounds made me reach for my chest, but they were gone. Magically healed by the Capital just to be tortured mentally.

I watch myself trip slightly but Peetas there in an instant, arm looping around my waist, holding me for dear life.

It looked so natural. Right. Together, his eyes never leaving me, concern dripping with every blink.

I hear him whisper like he’s next to me “We’re almost at the beach alright, just a little further” I can feel the desperation in his words, he needed me to make it.

I remember the exhaustion now, the utter fatigue I felt. The thought to close my eyes was over bearing but I couldn’t let Peeta down… win, I couldn’t let him win!

I snap out of the memory, luckily Finnick has my arms in his hands because i’ve stopped again and Peeta is looking at me with concern over his shoulder every few seconds. “Jude?” Finnick whispers and I take deep breath.

“In the last Hunger Games,” I began, trying to sort out the memory, he was saving me or was he the reason I ended up at the Capitol? “You saved me after the Careers attacked us, real or not real”

He frowned at the question, was it concern or hurt in his eyes, I didn’t know because when he blinked it was gone but then he stopped turning to face me. This time Finnick doesn’t push me forwards. He didn’t save you, and now he knows that he can’t get away with his lies anymore. Kill him!

Before I could act on the voices that abruptly awokened he speaks up, “I got you to that beach, then the arena went out and the Capital got you. So yeah, I saved you from the Careers but I couldn’t save you from the Capital and it’ll kill me everyday that you had to go through that and this and I couldn’t do anything”

His voice grew more anguished and devastated with each word and I found tears falling down my own face as he took deep breaths in front of me. The old me would’ve known how much this was eating at him, would’ve helped him but how could I?

I didn’t know me anymore. Or what I could do before I snapped.

I didn’t know what to say so I said “Haymitch told me that I- I told them if it came down to it, to save you” His eyes sharpened on me somehow, “I don’t blame you for what happened in the Capital, I never will. I’m sorry”

The air hung still as Boggs turned to them finally, breaking the moment “Keep up! We haven’t got all day” Peeta sighed, glancing at Boggs before solely landing on me again.

“Real. I saved you from the Careers” I smiled lightly, kill him, I shoved it down not paying any attention to it.

“Thank you” Finally, we began to follow the others down and around another corner. Soon we were arriving at our next pod, this one had a large arch with completely and utterly destroyed walls surrounding it left to right.

More destruction passed as they continued, how long before it’s too much, until the city isn’t even salvageable. Boggs told us to hide behind the walls while he set it off the next pod and then checked for anymore. We did as told, I took position between Finnick and Katniss and two other guys i didn’t know, Peeta and Cresta, Jackson and Pollux on the other side.

I felt anticipation, the voice had free roam when the pods went off. Too much going on at once, I couldn’t control it.

The pod detonation sent my mind spiraling, as I assumed, this one, four guns emerged from the wall and rained bullets into the archway destroying bits of the wall they were behind.

If you killed them their symbol would be gone, who would push that hope and if not for Katniss and Peeta, it would die with them. The voice stronger than it’d been in days.

No! I crouched further agaisnt the wall we’d taken cover behind, I’d been given my blank gun back for the promo but this was all too much, I felt the butt of the gun against my temple as I curled into my self.

I bring my head up and smack it against the gun, get out of my head. Get out. Get out! “My favourite colour is purple, I can’t wear red bows. Peeta saved me. My favourite-“ I repeat the words, whispered and keep bringing the butt of my gun to my temple.

A hand on my shouldern brings me back, at first my eyes catch the utterly devastated ones across from me. Peeta. He looks like he’d burn the world… For me. I break the eye contact quickly and the look in Finnicks eyes said it all. He didn’t have to go through what I had to understand, I didn’t know if I’d be able to do this without him, or Peeta… No matter how much I wanted to kill him sometimes.

Suddenly an explosion going off catches us off guard, did they set off another pod? “Boggs!” Katniss screams break the air, Finnicks hands move under my shoulders and lifts me to my feet, hauling me around the corner.

We both freeze at the sight, easily three of our squad members had been hit by the bomb. But it’s Boggs who lays in Katniss’s arms that makes my stomach drop and I’m almost sure I would have crumbled if not for Finnick. Bogg’s legs were gone, nothing but two stumps and onrushing blood.

Oh god, oh god. I slam my eyes shut and a ringing breaks out in my head. This is my fault, it’s all my fault, I never should have trusted them, Boggs should have never trusted them. The thoughts come harsher than they have in weeks and I can’t break away from them.

Kill them before they kill us all. This one isn’t my voice and I snap my eyes open sure I’d see his old and drawn face in front of me, but he’s not there. Relief fills me, but the twitch in my hand isn’t as my eyes dart to Peeta.

He must’ve been hit by the backlash of the bomb, Jackson was helping him to his feet as Cresta was helping one of the twins, who’d I forgotten were even there amongst all the chaos. His blue eyes darted around until they met mine and then they drifted to my hands.

I was holding my gun… I didn’t remember grabbing it, and it was full of blanks but it could still be a weapon. Kill him, I shake my head taking a step back at the same time I hear a click from afar, my head shoot’s up and I look to see l the other twin had rushed to help the other and had set off another pod.

I flinched ready for another bomb but instead the walls to the archway we just entered and the three others all begin to close, Katniss now standing from Boggs and holding the device he had seems to catch sight before anyone of us and the look of horror on her face is enough “Run!”

An arm grabs me and yanks me forward but my hands tighten on my gun, it was his fault. I can’t shake away these thoughts anymore, not after Boggs.

“Jude, keep it together!” Finnick spoke from beside me but nothing could bring me back, not after everything, everything that he’d done.

I felt my mind unscrewing, going barbaric at the thought of Peeta being so close and safe, he would make it out of this courtyard. And I tried to fight every single part of me that wanted to change that.

I couldn’t… Not after Boggs. You’re just kids, Peeta was a kid that had been the reason of hundreds and thousands of people… He had to die.

The air thrums around us as we rush up the stairs and I take this moment to look over my shoulder, a wave of black liquid lurches towards us and with utmost certainty I don’t want to find out what happens if it reaches me but then my mind flicks.

No consequences, kill him and die knowing you saved innocents. I wanted to shake these thoughts away, Peeta rushing up behind me tells me that he’d probably only run when he realised I was safe but a larger part of me knew he had some hidden agenda to kill me and cause more harm than good.

I had time.

It was the last confirmation I needed, shoving Finnick off me and throwing myself at Peeta, I let one of hands release the gun as I grab for his shoulder but his foot catches something and I only manage to grab his shirt as we go rolling down a few of the steps as he tries to fight off my grip, I hoped I had timed it right.

“Jude! Don’t” He cried out, finally managing to grab my wrist so I raise the gun in the other, “You have to die” I whisper, unsure why I needed to say it before I bring down the gun and finally, finally-

I’m shoved, NO. Snow’s voice screams in my head and I let out a cry, the yell breaks my skull open and I feel every ounce of rage pouring from the word.

His anger becomes my own and fuels me as I jump up from the ground and grapple the man from our squad who had ruined ruined ruined everything.

I knew it was wrong, some part of me as my ears rang and my mind exploded, but I couldn’t stop stop stop. The liquid rushed behind the man in my arms now, we’d spun, had I done that? Before my foot lifted and connected with his middle and I sent him into the abyss of oil.

Then it was all gone, the ringing, the voices and my mind was clear. I just killed a man. Someone must have grabbed me because i’m moving but I don’t feel it and I don’t care I’d killed someone, killed killed killed.

I feel the tears now as a door slams shut behind me and I hauled up my stairs, these are wooden not stone. The voices come back but they are no longer on my side. And it’s my own voice.

You killed an innocent. You need to die, you’re a danger. And I agree, I scream and scream that I want nothing more than to be dead and I must’ve actually been screaming because soon all I see is the same abyss I had forsaken another to.

— —

An explosion wakes me up and proceeds to remind me of everything that had happened before I succumbed to the darkness, I took in my surrounding the only light coming from the curtained window that Katniss and Gale were peering out of.

Whatever had just happened outside had affected Katniss more than Gale, and as I shift my position to get a better look but it’s useless, Gale lets the blinds close.

I let my eyes dance around the room, there’s more people in our group than I had realised, two men sat together checking the other for injuries, another man I seen but still didn’t know the name of stood with Cresta while Finnick and Peeta sat watching the window that Katniss and Gale were at. Jackson was no where in sight, I didn’t want to see her anyways, the guilt would twist even further. The twins… gone.

I swallow the sickness I feel, I had been so crazed I hadn’t taken the time to even get to know them.

All of the squad was far from me, I realised I was placed on stairs and the rail along it is what my hands are cuffed to.

Now you can’t hurt anyone. That hadn’t changed, no longer would I fight the urge to kill Peeta, somehow my wish of not killing him had been granted. Now I had to try not to kill myself, though that statement was half hearted.

Suddenly the familiar ring of the Capitals announcement played and my veins grew cold until one of the squad members spoke up “All the tvs in Panem are connected to the announcements, if the powers on then the shows running”

I rolled my eyes, the power that they could flush into abandoned apartments was incredible when some districts could barely keep the lights on for an hour or half.

The anthem continued, causing me to close my eyes but that only let the voices free reign in the darkness.

You could’ve been helping them stop this instead you let the Capital control you. I grit my teeth together not being able to take in what was happening on screen from the inner battle I was having with my own thoughts. You nearly killed Peeta and you were proud of it.

I nearly threw up.

My skin was on fire, pure and unadultered disgust and shame with myself, how could I have not realised that killing Peeta was the worst possible thing I could do, I would be nothing. Nothing, there was no way to put into words what would happen if he died.

And by my own hand, I closed my eyes. No. Never again would I let them win, hurt him. Never. I’d kill myself before I ever did something like that again… If I was even given the chance of redemption after what I did.

I open my eyes as I hear my name mentioned and see that the Capital is replaying everything that’s been haunting me since i woke up.

I watch the black oil like substance hurtle it’s way towards us, and I see it clearly now, Peetas eyes are on me waiting until I’m safe and clear before he runs after me and in that split second decision i’ve made one aswell.

Watching it on the screen was horrifying, my arm reaching for his throat but finding his shirt instead, us rolling together and still the look of murder on my face, so twisted it doesn’t even look like me before Mitch yanked me off and I thanked him by kicking him into the pod trap.

His scream echoed through the screen and I flinched, I’d been so full of rage and out of it I hadn’t heard it or seen as a metal cage lined with spikes shot from the oil, encasing the now dead Mitch.

I close my eyes unable to watch the rest. Monster, monster, monster. My voice spits over and over again, these I can’t shut out. It’s simply my thoughts the more I push it triples.

“Well, what’s next?” Jackson asked out of sight, I glanced around the room yet none of them seemed to look at me. I understood why they wouldn’t, some of them knew Mitch.

I killed their friend. Yet no one responded.

Was it not obvious? “I- I killed him” I whispered, all of their heads snapped like my voice was the last they expected “You should either leave me here or put a bullet in my head so no one else dies”

In the corner of my eye I see a hint of blonde flinch at my words, but I’d nearly killed him if it wasn’t for Mitch… Now he was dead, I didn’t get to live. “It’s the only reasonable solution, you can’t tell me i’m wrong”

“You’re wrong” Peeta cut in before anyone else could agree or disagree, I couldn’t tell by their faces and yet none of them cut into Peeta “You are restrained and we have a watch on you, Mitch knew what he was signing up for, we all did”

I looked away from him. This wasn’t right, my thoughts were against me now but what happened when they turned on him again? Because they would.

“You saved me once, you’ll be saving me this time aswell if you just-“

“No”

My eyes met his and I knew I’d never seen the fire in his gaze that he’d held this moment, Peeta was not budging on this. I frowned, I was a liability why couldn’t he see that?

My mind flashed to solutions, none came to mind. “There has to be a way where if I know i’m going to snap that I can stop myself” My words break at the end as I gaze around the room, there’s only silence “Please… please”

Gale steps forward and I see Peeta take a step but Katniss stops him, and I’m grateful as the brunette boy crouches down and pulls something from a hidden pocket.

A small pill, it was hard to think it’d do what i asked, delicately Gale pushed the pill into my own hidden pocket and patted it “It’s Nightlock, no pain and instant. Only if you have to”

I nodded, hesitantly but promising “Only if I have to”

And with that they set out, planning a course of action. The pods were too often now, they would have to stop constantly.

It was time to go underground

—

- … sooo part three?!?

—

DONT SCREAM AT ME IK IM AN ASSHOLE IM SO SO SO SORRY FOR MAKING YALL WAIT MY GOODREADS GOAL WAS SLACKING HAD TO CATCH UP HOPE YALL LIKE THIS XXXX

taglist girlies💓: @yazminetrahan @solarbxby @abbersreads @antonietta18

[javierpena-inatacvest]

Fight

Summary: When you get a phone call from your elementary school that your girls got into a fight, Javi leaves work to figure out what happened.

Word Count: 3.6K

Pairing: Dad!Javi x Wife!reader (No use of y/n)

Warnings: Violence (the Peña girls get in a fight at school), bullying, the Peña girls being little badasses, Javi being a proud dad, idk everything I post for this series is gonna be sickeningly sweet, I'm not sure what to tell you 😩

A/N: I literally had this idea on the drive into work this morning, got a terrible migraine, went home, woke up and wrote this in like an hour 🤪 This was inspired by @bbiophiliaa asking me about the girl's personalities, and I think this sums it up pretty darn well! GOD I LOVE THIS FAMILY YALL GOTTA SEDATE ME

Can be read as a standalone or as a part of the NTL universe!

Series Masterlist Never Too Late Masterlist

The phone number for Alma Pierce Elementary was one you recognize like the back of your hand. If it weren’t for all the years you’d worked there as a teacher, the fact that two of your three daughters now attended there as 1st and 3rd graders meant that you had the school’s phone number memorized almost as well as your own. That’s why when you got a phone call from Alma Pierce in the middle of the day, while waiting in the lobby of your pediatrician’s office for an appointment with your youngest (and her never ending cold that she couldn’t seem to shake), you were surprised to see the number that you knew all too well pop up on your caller ID. 

Being a former teacher, your girls knew better than to try and play sick and call home to get out of school, and noting their usual chipper and enthusiastic demeanor this morning when you dropped them off, you found it hard to believe that a mystery illness had plagued them enough in the past few hours to warrant a call home. You ran through your mental checklist in your head of your morning routine, almost positive that Lucy and Elliot had both their lunches, gym shoes, and no after school activities that they would have forgotten anything for. Your phone continued to ring, a now slightly unsettling feeling building in your stomach as you began to wonder the reason for the midday call. 

“Hello?” you answered, bouncing a sleepy, snotty Harper in your lap as you sat waiting in the uncomfortable fake leather of the doctor’s office chair. 

“Hi Mrs. Peña, it’s Principal Coleman.” 

Oh god. 

While Lucy and Elliot were your daughters in every sense that they were just as feisty and stubborn as you, they were sweet girls, and knew better than to do anything to break the rules or be disrespectful at school.

Or, so you thought.

Your heart began to sink to the pit of your stomach, knowing that a call from the Principal at 1:30 in the afternoon most likely didn’t mean good news, letting out a quiet deep breath before responding. 

“Hi Principal Coleman, how are you?” 

“Well Mrs. Peña, I’m going to start off by saying I’m just as shocked as you probably are about the reason behind this phone call.” 

Oh sweet Jesus, what did these two do? 

You paused for a moment before Principal Coleman spoke again, without even giving you a chance to ask what had happened. “Today at recess, Lucy and Elliot beat up a boy in Elliot’s class pretty badly.” 

Was this a joke? There’s no way that she could be serious, right? You girls fought at home, but to gang up on another boy? At school? Heat began to flood through your cheeks in embarrassment and anger at your daughters as you tried to compose yourself enough to speak. “Principal Coleman, I- I’m so sorry. I’m- I don’t even know what to say. Do you know what happened?” 

“No, not yet, the girls are in my office right now, but I was hoping that you’d be able to come join us to have a conversation about it, considering what a serious thing this has become. Especially since your girls aren’t ones I see in my office often.” 

You stared down at Harper, wiping the back of her little arm against her boogery nose as she groaned and leaned against her chest. It had taken you a week to make an appointment for her, and for her sanity, or yours, you didn’t want to have to wait another week longer, but there was no way you weren’t finding out what the was reason why your girls had attacked someone out on the playground. You looked around frantically, trying to brainstorm a solution until you remembered the other half responsible for creating your fist fighting monsters. 

“Yes, absolutely Principal Coleman. I’m at the doctor with my other daughter right now, but I’ll see if my husband can come down to the school to talk with the girls.” 

“Perfect, thank you so much, Mrs. Peña.” 

You had barely hung up before you were punching the keys of your cell phone, dialing up Javi and anxiously chewing on your bottom lip as you waited for him to pick up. 

“Hey, Hermosa!” You could almost hear Javi’s smile through the phone, his voice sweet and unassuming, considering it wasn’t uncommon for you to call him during the day, and especially not about things like this. “What’s going on, baby?” 

“Um, I just got a call from the Principal saying that Lucy and Elliot beat up a kid during recess.” 

“Woah, woah, woah. Wait, Osita, you can’t be serious?” Javi responded, almost more in shock than you were at the news. 

“I’m being serious, Jav. She wants one of us down there to go talk with him, but I’ve got Harper at the doctor’s right now and I don’t want to have to reschedule if I don’t have to. Is there any way you can go?” You sighed, rubbing your fingers on the sides of your temples from the impending headache your girls were causing you. 

“Holy shit. Yeah, yeah- of course, I’ll head over right now. What the hell happened?” 

“I don’t know, she didn’t say. Jesus Jav, I’m so embarrassed, I know the girls fight at home, but to beat up someone at school? What did we do wrong that would make them think that’s okay?” You could feel the nervous, frustrated tears beginning to well in your eyes, guilt and shame creeping through every inch of your body, currently feeling like the worst parent to have ever existed in that moment. 

“Shhhh, hey, Osita, it’s alright. I’m sure there has to be a reason. I’m gonna head out right now and figure it out, okay? I love you. Give Harps a big kiss for me, yeah?” 

“Okay. I love you too. Thanks, Jav.” 

With a gentle click of the receiver, the other side of the line went silent, leaving you and Harper in the bright, sterile lights of the waiting room. The ceiling lights may as well been spotlights beaming down in your direction, now sensing several pairs of eyes on you after your phone call. You’d never been so thankful for your 4 year old’s sleepy, sick state, because if she was any more awake, she would be happily babbling about your phone call to everyone in the lobby, letting them know her big sisters got in a fight at school. 

“Harper Peña?” A voice called from across the lobby. 

Well, at least one of your 3 daughters you could help take care of. 

Javi was pretty sure the last time drove this fast anywhere was after your water broke with Elliot, making it to the hospital in record breaking time. Whipping into the first empty parking spot he found, Javi practically sprinted through the parking lot to the front of the building, his heart pounding as he stepped into the main office, greeted by the familiar faces of your old co-workers, with unfamiliar grimaces on their faces. 

“Principal Coleman’s back this way.” Señora Gonzalez mumbled, almost avoiding eye contact with Javi as she pointed to the open door behind her desk. As if the phone call from his wife earlier didn’t have him worried enough, the dismayed look on everyone’s faces sure didn’t help. 

“Hi Mr. Peña. Please, take a seat.” Principal Coleman smiled politely after outstretching her hand for Javi to shake before gesturing towards the empty seat between Lucy and Elliot. If there was one thing Javi was not shocked about, it was the way both of his daughters seemed to be handling the current situation. Lucy, being the empathetic older sister she was, was in tears, trying her best to keep from bawling as she looked up at her dad, her face riddled with guilt. Elliot on the other hand, was leaned back in her chair, arms crossed against her chest, seeming almost completely unbothered by her current situation, giving Javi a little shrug, as if to say I’m not sure why we’re here either. 

“Principal Coleman, I just want to start off by saying I’m so sorry. I was shocked when my wife called me and said the girls had been in a fight.” 

“He was asking for it…” Elliot mumbled under her breath, arms still crossed, slouching even lower. 

“Elliot Marie.” Javi snapped, giving his daughter a dangerous glare, knowing her stubborn attitude he was all too familiar with. 

“Well why don’t you go ahead then Elliot. Can you explain to us what happened?” Principal Coleman asked, nodding at Elliot. Elliot let out a deep sigh, sitting up a little straighter in her chair, uncrossing her arms and bracing them on the armrests of her seat. 

“Principal Coleman, do you know Hunter in my class?” Elliot asked, prepping the room as if she was getting ready to argue her case in court. Principal Coleman slightly cocked her head, intrigued by Elliot’s question. 

“Yes, I do.” 

“Okay. Well at the beginning of the year, Mrs. Walker told us that Hunter’s brain is kind of different than ours. He says the same things over and over and makes silly noises and moves his body around even when he’s supposed to be sitting still. She said it’s because he has Autumn-tism. I don’t know why it’s called that because he doesn’t really like the fall, but he does really like outer space.” 

“He has Autism, Elliot, not Autumn-tism.” Lucy groaned, rolling her eyes at her sister. 

“Whatever.” Elliot sighed, rolling her eyes right back. “Anyways, no one ever wanted to play with Hunter because he was different from other kids, and everyone called him weird, and I felt really sad because everyone should have friends to play with at school. So one day I decided to ask him if he wanted to play and now we’re best friends and play rocket ships every day at recess.” Elliot adjusted again, scooching up taller in her chair, looking back and forth between her dad and Principal Coleman. “And even though Mrs. Walker always says be kind to everyone, Max in my class is not very kind, especially to Hunter. He always makes fun of him and calls him mean names, and I always tell him to stop because it hurts Hunter’s feelings.” 

“Well I’m very glad that you are standing up for your friend Elliot, but how did this end up with you and Lucy both beating up Max?” 

“I’m getting there Principal Coleman, I promise.” Elliot nodded, already halfway out the door to law school at this point. “Today at recess, Hunter and I were on the swings playing rockets, minding our own business, when all of a sudden Max came up out of nowhere and pushed Hunter so hard off the swings he landed in the wood chips and started crying. And if that wasn’t bad enough, he said that Hunter deserved it because he was a freak and freaks shouldn’t get to have friends.” 

“It’s true, that’s what he said…” Lucy quietly chimed in, barely lifting her eyes off their fixed spot on the floor. “I was out at recess too and I saw Max push Hunter so I went over to help.” 

“So I helped Hunter up and then I told Max that he can’t talk to him like that, and if he keeps making fun of him, I’m gonna kick him in the nuts.” 

“She did also say that…” Lucy grimaced, looking over at her sister. 

“Well. He called him a stupid loser who should go fly to outer space so no one ever has to see him again. So I kicked him in the nuts. I warned him.” Elliot responded, holding up her hands in defense. 

“I may have kicked him too…” 

“I’m really sorry, Daddy. And I'm sorry Principal Coleman.  I know we’re not supposed to fight and use our words but I couldn’t let him make fun of Hunter anymore. It’s not fair.” 

“I’m really sorry, too. I should have told her to stop. She is right, Max is always so mean to him for no reason besides the fact he’s different and he can’t help it.” 

The girls both looked up at their dad with remorse, their sweet little faces filled with a mix of guilt and pride, knowing they were in the wrong for what they had done, but also knowing they had done what was right for Elliot’s friend, even if it meant finding themselves in the Principal’s Office. 

After hearing his daughter’s story, his face mirrored theirs. While he also didn’t think he’d find himself in the Principal’s Office this afternoon, he also couldn’t help but feel proud knowing that his daughters cared so deeply about this boy, and had gone out of their way to stand up for him with no hesitation. There had been so many times since the girls had been born that Javi wondered if he had ever done right by his daughters. But seeing them here today, knowing all they wanted to do was stand up for the person who needed it most had him feeling like maybe, just maybe, he was doing something right. 

Even Principal Coleman’s face began to soften, realizing the circumstances of the situation, recognizing the Peña girls wanted nothing more than to protect their friend, even if they perhaps hadn’t gone about it the right way. 

“Well girls. I think that we can all agree that moving forward, violence is never the right way to solve our problems, correct?” Lucy and Elliot softly bobbed their heads, looking down at the ground. “That being said, I do think that it is very brave of you that you stood up for Hunter. He is very lucky to have such thoughtful friends.” Principal Coleman smiled, Lucy and Elliot’s heads now perking back up in shock. “I do think that you still do need to apologize to Max for what you did, so tomorrow, the three of us are going to meet, sound fair?” 

The girls shook their heads in agreement, still bracing themselves for the rest of their punishment. “Mr. Peña, while I do not condone fighting in the slightest, I do think there is something to be said for the fact your girls have such big hearts.” 

“Thank you.” Javi beamed, peering down at his two girls, resting a hand on each of their knees and giving them a little shake. “Again, I am really sorry, I promise we’ll talk about using our words instead of fighting if something like this ever happens again.” 

“Of course. Alright girls, you two can both head back to class and-” 

“Actually, if it’s okay, I’m gonna sign them out and take them home.” Javi interjected, the girls now staring at their dad in confusion. Principal Coleman nodded, her and Javi shaking hands once again before the 3 Peñas made their way out of the office.  

“Daddy, why are we going home?” Elliot asked, puzzled by her dad’s proposition. 

“Just go get your stuff, okay?” Javi smiled, nudging the two girls towards the door as they speeded off to their classrooms, quickly returning with their backpacks. 

The 3 loaded into Javi’s truck, Lucy and Elliot exchanging silent, confused looks in the backseat before Elliot worked up the courage to speak. “Daddy… Are you mad at us?” 

Javi turned back around to face the girls, tilting his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose. “You guys know you shouldn’t be fighting at school, right?” 

“Right.” The little voices said in unison. 

“Good. I’m not mad, girls. I’m really proud of you. You did the right thing standing up for that kid. There may be times in life where there isn’t always an easy answer to things, but you girls did what you knew was right, and that’s what mattered most. Sounds like Max is a really big jerk anyways.”  

“You can say that again…” Elliot snorted, the 3 of them laughing along at her comment. With that, Javi turned over the ignition in his car, the engine roaring to life as he began to pull out of the parking lot in the opposite direction of home.  

“Dad, we don’t go home this way?” Lucy pointed out, in her lovingly know-it-all voice. 

“I know. That’s because we’re going to get ice cream.” Javi grinned, the girls now cheering in excitement, dancing in their seats. 

“Just don’t tell mom.” 

Your mind hadn’t stopped racing since the minute you had gotten the phone call from school a few hours ago, now only beating faster as you saw Javi’s truck parked in the driveway at 3:30, before he or the girls would have been finished with work or school. You scooped Harper out of her carseat, rushing inside to see what in the world was going on, only to be greeted by the sounds of giggles and laughter from Javi, Lucy and Elliot along with Mario Kart Double Dash dinging and clanging in the background. 

“No Dad, you have to throw the banana!” 

“What do you mean, throw it? I still have shells I have to get rid of, right? This game makes no sense and I’m in last place.” 

“Maybe if you threw the banana, you wouldn’t be in last place!” 

“Uhhhh… What’s going on?” You asked, wondering how in the world you had gone from a very serious phone call with your husband a few hours ago to him and the girls playing GameCube on the couch like it was any other day. 

“Hi Mom!” The girls shouted in unison, throwing down their controllers and running over towards you, wrapping their arms around your waist in a tight hug. 

“Hi?” You asked wearily, starting to wonder if this phone call had been a fever dream given everyone’s happy demeanor. “Are we not gonna talk about the phone call I got from Principal Coleman earlier today?” You raised an eyebrow at Javi, now making his way towards you, standing on the other side of the girls to sandwich them in between you and him in a hug, leaning over them to press a kiss onto your lips. “Taking them out of school early to play Mario Kart doesn’t look a lot like a punishment, Jav.” You grumbled into his ear, his face still pressed against yours. 

“Girls, why don’t you go play so Mom and I can talk about what happened, okay?” The girls happily agreed, taking Harper back over to the couch and resuming their game while you leaned back against the kitchen counter, arms folded over your chest in disappointment at Javi, waiting for an explanation. 

“You’ve heard Elliot talk about Hunter in her class before?” You could already feel your guard starting to come down, knowing you had a feeling exactly where this conversation was headed after hearing who was involved. “Apparently, a kid in Elliot’s class was picking on him for being Autistic and pushed him off the swings, so her and Lucy kicked him in the crotch.” You couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief, relief slowly turning into laughter as you buried your face in your hands, letting out a deep exhale before looking back at Javi. “I talked to them and they feel bad about it and know it’s wrong and they’re gonna apologize to the kid, but I couldn’t be that mad at them, right? They stood up for the kid even if they knew it was gonna get them in trouble. I’m honestly proud of them.”

You took a step towards Javi, pulling him in for a hug, resting your head against his shoulder as you spoke into his chest. “God, what are we gonna do with these girls?” The two of you chuckled, Javi snaking his hand down to cradle your cheek, tracing his thumb along your jaw. 

“Ask for a raise so we can send Elliot off to law school, apparently. Made a hell of a case in Coleman’s office. Just as head strong as her Momma.” Javi leaned down, letting his nose brush against yours as he tenderly placed his lips on yours, letting them linger for a moment while your smiles crept between them. 

“And their Daddy’s sense of right and wrong. Guess we must be doing something right if they care that much.” You smiled, looking up at Javi, his sweet brown eyes beaming down back at you, wondering how in the world you had ended up with 3 of the sassiest, sweetest combinations of the two of you in your daughters. “Okay, well, this was not how I was planning the rest of the day to go, but I guess it’s a happy surprise to have all of us home, so I’ll take it. I love you, Jav.” 

“I love you too, Osita.” 

You wrapped your arms around Javi’s waist, squeezing him in a long, tight hug as pressed his arms against your back, pulling you in closer as he planted a soft kiss on the top of your head. 

“Hey Munchkins, you want a snack and then we can pick something to play outside together?” 

“Okay!” The girls shouted from the family room over the background noise of their game until Elliot piped up again. 

“Honestly, I’m okay on snacks, I’m still really full from the ice cream.” 

You spun back around to look up at Javi, running his hand over the back of his neck, darting his eyes away from yours as you rested your hands on your hips, shaking your head. “Ice cream? Really?” 

“Hey, kickin’ ass is hard work.”

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[nyx-is-missing]

Could u write one for clarisse where she's impressed with femR bc of how good she is at fighting and all and clarisse finds her incredibly attractive bc no one has challenged her the way R does?

And like a bit of pining until the two confess

Thank you!!

Breathtaking or taken

Clarisse la rue x fem!reader

Summary: when Clarisse finds a opponent worth of her, she is breathtaken.

Warnings: none really, just fluff, not a descriptive fight scene on sight cause mama dont know how to write that, so just fluff fluff, and mutual pining fluff

(Do i need to say its not proofread? No? Thank you)

Here is one of the main benefits of being a daughter of Athena, you'll know.

DIfferent from other gods, Athena will let your parent know it is her who they are talking to.

And if letting them know beforehand isnt enough, she will let them know when the baby is brought to them, and if your parent is smart enough to live up to her choice, you'll have time to learn a thing or two before being thrown into this world.

If your parent cares enough about you, you'll have time.

And sure as hell my mom cared.

Always the intelectual woman, historian, researcher, writter, my mom knew many things about ancient greece, she knew all the stories by heart, and she, of all people, knew what she needed to do, to preserve her only daughter, her sacred gift.

She teached me all i needed to learn without compromising myself, stories, languages, art...and fight.

Little girls my age were doing dance classes, were trying to be good enough for drama club, were playing tea party with their dolls or making a mess with their mom's make up.

Well...i.. i was doing martial arts, i was fencing, i had my face in a book every free time i got.

I always asked her about it, why was she so strict about never missing a fight leasson, her answer always made sense, there and now.

"The world is cruel, especially for little girls, someday i might not be all the time with you, someday, you'll fight your own battles, you need to be ready"

Every word, every single word is true.

And that is how i ended up here, in a arena of camp half blood, sparring with Clarisse, and winnig, by two points, yes, but winning.

It is clear nobody expected that from me, neither did she actually, i can see in her eyes.

Understandable, they expect Athena kids to be calm, find a solution, not fight her way out.

Honestly their looks dont bother me, i dont even think much of it, but Clarisse's looks, they got something more to them, like a kid who finally got the dog she really wanted.

"Aaand break time Clarrise, we'll continue this tomorrow, id like to enjoy the rest of my afternoon thank you"

I dropped the sword down and started to undo my armor while walking close to the exit.

"Wait wait wait, now? Already? C'mon i didnt even had time to figure out how do you do that... all of that"

She stood next to me, still holding her sword and honestly.. she was beautiful, yes she was sweaty now and yes she was mean to everyone but.. now...right now, she was beautiful, shining, in her element really, flushed cheeks and a smile she only had when with a sword in hand.

"I practice, ever since i was a kid, everyday, well expect in weekends but yeah, almost everyday... how do you do all that? You are good...-want some water?"

I offered her my bottle also motioning for her to walk with me, both wich she gladly accepted.

"I practice too...and i never said this to anyone but, you are good, great even, and look breathtaking"

We stop walking, we stop all actually.

"I look what, Clarisse?"

"Breathtaken- you look out of breath, do you want the water back?"

Ah.

Weeks later i found myself in the same scenario, sparring with Clarisse again, actually that is all i do when it comes to training, be with Clarisse

"C'mon curls, thats the best you've got? No need to go easy on me"

"Im not going easy, i already told you, you caught me distracted thats all- GIRL WIll YOU SUSH?"

She tried to block you with her sword, thankfully for her, a succeded attempt.

"How could i? You're so fun to mess with, gets all red n all"

"Oh you want to talk about getting red?"

In a moment i was on the floor, Clarisse on top of me, and i couldnt speak, all i could do was stare into her big brown eyes, who looked right into my soul.

"Cant speak anymore huh? Oh if you could see the red im seeing-"

Now this my ladies and gentlemen, this is what i call a shot of faith.

I raised my head a little and just..i kissed her, it was quick but I did it, and her face went blank.

"Now you are breathtaken Curls, how about that?"

"And you are still breathtaking"

Still?

Oh

Oh.

"You...like me Clarisse?"

"You didnt knew?"

Oh.

"....no..?"

"Would you walk away if i kissed you this time?"

"....no."

[vacayisland]

Id be so happy if u could write some Branch x reader!! I love when he acts apathetic or like he doesn’t care but in the end will always end up helping the people he cares for. And has a weakness for the one he loves. Secretly insecure but loves looking for ways to impress them.

I dont have anything in particular to ask for, just would love to see some more branch x reader content!

@!; Bakin' with Love! Branch / Baker! Reader

"Summary"! In which Branch met Poppy's baker friend at the grand opening of their bakery and has a self realizing moment. "Tags!" Fluff :( I love Branch so much, he deserves so much better.

@!; "Oh come on Branch!" Branch was, reluctantly, following Poppy across Troll Village; Well, in fact, he was being more tugged along than anything, as Poppy was basically trying to sprint while Branch did his best to keep up, despite being unamused at the lack of explanation he has received. It was, usually, never a good thing when Poppy was dragging him off to some unknown direction. Branch has learnt that from experience, "Poppy! Where are we even going?" And that seemed to get Poppy to stop, digging her feet into the ground as she spun around to look at Branch. Which set him off, coiling away a little as he took in the shocked, jaw-dropping, exaggerated look Poppy held. Did he forget a holiday, an anniversary, a birthday? Branch didn't know, nor did he know of anything special happening on this specific day. There wasn't anything in his colander, which spans the next few years. He hasn't heard anything by mouth of other Trolls, which were always excited to word vomit about anything that might be happening the next day. So Branch only shrugged when Poppy asked, waving her arms around to emphasis her question, "Branch! Do you not know what today it?"

Which seemed to make Poppy ever so more shocked, which was slightly amusing. Though Branch also knew in the next 5 seconds Poppy was going to explode and basically word vomit what was happening to him; in an over-the-top way that he had to learn how to listen to. More like how to break down and make sense of, because sometimes Poppy made no sense when she just pukes words. "Branch!! Troll village is finally getting a Bakery and one of my very, very good friends is opening it! It's the same person who usually makes the cupcakes or cakes or baked good for any of the parties we have thrown recently. They're an amazing baker and it's always been their dream to open a bakery! I cannot believe you haven't heard about this, it's all everyone has been talking about." And there Poppy went, right on time, waving her arms and yelling with the most excited tone in her voice. "A bakery?" Though that wasn't the answer Branch had expected, and he couldn't help but cross his arms and cock an eyebrow up at Poppy. "You're dragging me across the village for a bakery?" "Not just ANY bakery Branch! This is the a bakery by the best baker in the village!" Branch snickered a little at Poppy's excitement, the way she bounced on his toes. He rolled his eyes, knowing and expecting, Poppy to grab his wrist again so they could b-line it for the bakery. "And she's opening today and we cannot miss getting her double fudge, triple chocolate, licorice cupcakes! Oh, oh! Oh her glitter ball cupcakes or- OR ANYTHING!" And Branch, again, was right as Poppy grabbed his wrist and began to rush over to the other side of the village; dragging Branch over to a little half-stand and pod-like building on the ground. There was already a crowd formed around the entrance and inside, with other Trolls sitting around and eating baked goods they had gotten. Branch watched the trolls and their desserts, noticing a wide arrange of different pastries. Some on the more simple side and others more complex, such as cupcakes, brownies, cakes, bread, croissants, and even chocolate souffle. Now that made Branch do a double take, not having expected such a high-skilled dessert coming out from a bakery that just opened. "AH! Branch, this is so exciting!" Poppy was basically jumping up and down on her toes, grinning from ear to ear. And she wasn't the only one who shared the excitement. As Viva, who seemed to come out of no where, popped up besides Poppy with the widest grin. Branch had to coil back a bit, scrunching his nose, as Viva squealed along side Poppy, "I KNOW RIGHT!" "Hey, this is different!" Floyd, with Clay in tow, walked over to Branch, Viva, and Poppy; seeming to have been following Viva before she rushed off to her sister. "It's a bakery," Branch couldn't help but shrug as the line moved forward. "So many trolls can bake, or poop out baked goods. I don't really see the fuss about it." "Well, one it's actually the first bakery we have in the village-" Floyd would start, hoping he could get his brother to understand the excitement a little better. Yet Floyd was cut off by Clay, though he didn't mind much, "And I've heard that their baking is like, THE best in all of Pop Troll village! Viva came back with a dozen of their cookies one time, I had to physically restrain myself from eating them all!" "Oh, great." Clay tilted his head at Branch's sarcasm. "You know anything anyone eats here is sweets, right? I mean it can't be that healthy." The group would reach the front of the line as Branch crossed his arms and shook his head, wondering why the village would need another output to feed such an addiction. Yet, he was only met with a hand on his shoulder from Floyd as Clay rushed forward to order alongside Poppy and Viva.

"Just be happy for everyone else, yeah?" And Branch softened a little, seeing Floyd's small smile and sincere eyes. His hard stance broke as Branch relaxed his shoulders for a moment before he shrugged softly and nodded in agreement. "Alright, yeah, okay." Branch mumbled, receiving a pat on the shoulder from Floyd and a slightly bigger smile before he turned to go order. Branch decided to hang back for a bit before he followed, standing next to Floyd as he watched Poppy and Viva basically drool over the confections behind the display case. They chattered and debated which sweets they should get, and whether or not they should just buy one of everything; which Clay was trying to disagree to, claiming it was a waste of money, yet it was obvious he also couldn't choose what to get. Floyd was the first to notice when Branch walked around behind everyone to stand behind Poppy and Viva to look into the display stand. He noticed there was some steam that rose from products, which he guessed where more fresh than others; though he could also deduct that they were all baked between yesterday and today seeing as the scent of everything was so fresh. "I think, for the most bang for your buck, you should get some of the cookies that are slowly crumbling or the ones under steam." Branch pointed out from behind the sister, which caused them to pause and glance over at him. Both confused yet intrigued at his answer. Poppy placed her hands on her hips, giving Branch a challenging look, "Branch! I didn't know you knew sweets!" Branch only shrugged, "Well, the ones still steaming are likely the freshest, and the ones slowly crumbling have a desirable texture of a soft cookie. They're stiff enough on the outside to hold their shape but soft on the inside where they're slowly breaking, a nice balance." "And here I thought you were a crunchy cookie type of man." Viva added, pointing up and down at Branch. Yet they couldn't speak for long, as the back door of the bakery, which separated the kitchen from the front floor, swung open and a Troll carrying a cooling rack of sweets rushed in. They apologized for the wait, not taking a moment to look up, before they opened the display case and slid in the hot batch of cookies. When they finally looked up to greet everyone with a, "Hello! Welcome to Pop's Cookies, my name is (Y/N), how may I help you?" They stopped mid-sentence upon seeing Poppy and Viva, in which the three would share an excited squeal. "Oh my god Poppy! Viva! Hello you two." You exclaimed from behind the counter, moving around the display case and towards the register. Poppy and Viva would follow, "What are you doing here?! I thought I told you two that you didn't have to come!" "Did you really think we wouldn't come to support you?" Poppy quipped as Branch noticed the gleam in your eye. For some reason it made him pause and stare, so much so he didn't realize his brothers coming to stand near him. Floyd softly spoke to Clay about getting a strawberry shortcake brownie slice as Clay tried pitching that he was going to get an almond-cherry explosion cookie. Though they both knew that Clay would much prefer a cherry-lime cheesecake, yet was trying to keep up his 'professional' attituded. "Oh! (Y/N), have you meet Branch?" Poppy's voice pulled Branch out from his thoughts, causing him to blink and shake his head a little. That's when he noticed all eyes being on him. Well this was awkward... and he had to save it. "Hey!" Branch waved his hand once, giving you the only type of smile he could muster on such a short notice. In which, he could tell was a little odd and off, seeing as Poppy and Viva started at him a overly questioning look. While you, you stared at him with a quizzical look; Tilting your head to the side, as you stared at him like you were trying to read the very structure of his being. It was off putting how he felt like you could see right through him and at the same time see him. Branch glanced at Poppy for some sort of help, but she gave him a nervous smile and waved him off.

Branch tried to gulp back his nerves, wondering if he was being tested on his reaction or if you were simply judging him for not being as excited as everyone else about your bakery. It's not like he didn't support it or anything, he just wasn't the overly outward excited type and he hoped someone would explain that. And Branch saw Floyd glance over, seeming ready to say something or hopefully stand up for him. Yet he didn't seem to have to after a big grin grew on your face, "Say, Branch, you look like a soft double chocolate chip cookie with a fudge center type of guy to me! Would you like one? "Oh- uh- sure!" Branch answered with a small smile, somehow feeling rather relaxed despite his earlier anxieties. Though he did notice the shocked look from the others, you didn't seem shocked or disturbed he had agreed. In fact you seemed proud, for whatever reason, as you quickly grabbed a bag, fluffed it open, grabbed a wax paper and opened the case. You mulled over which cookie to select for a moment before taking the one you deemed as 'perfect' and began to bag it. "Braanch!" This is when Poppy spoke up, "You like double chocolate with a fudge center? How come you never told me!" And to that, Branch only shrugged his shoulders once more, "You never asked, Poppy." Branch explained as he walked over to the counter and accepted the bagged cookie. Later, when everyone had ordered and they decided to take a seat inside, Branch took out his cookie and couldn't help but look at it for a moment. Everyone around him was laughing and talking, eating their sweets at the same time, and he couldn't help but feel oddly seen. And by a complete Troll never the less. Usually people assumed he would like hard cookies, or the boring almond and nuts. Usually people assumed a lot about him because he was so different, and despite your slightly unsettling stare you had correctly guessed one of his favorite cookies. One he didn't even realize you had baked every time Poppy brought a dozen over to his bunker. So then that brought up another question in Branch. Did you just correctly guess his favorite cookie or did you remember it from the countless times Poppy (most likely) told you. Either way, why and how? That's probably what confused Branch the most. It's what made him turn around in his seat and look at you, watching as you served another costumer. A chipper smile on your face and an excited gleam in your eye. You weren't doing that guessing game or glare to anyone else. . . was he somehow special? Nah, probably not. But it did make him think as he took a bite into the cookie you had given him. Maybe he should come back tomorrow and talk to you about it. Yeah talk to you about the incident and for nothing else. Just clear up the air and all. Yeah... and maybe get another cookie.

.ᐟ this work is published and owned by @vacayisland. please do not plagiarize, copy, or steal this work; like, reblogs, and saves are appreciated :D