#Finding Natalie: Chapter 1

[biteofcherry]

To find the light, we must first touch the darkness

Please also check out @bluepinkangel​’s amazing hot moodboard for this universe 🖤

dark!mafia Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: When you’re unexpectedly appointed to run a health center, you foresee many struggles along the way, but not one in the form of a merciless mob boss. Steve Rogers’ core aim is to own and he won’t take no for an answer. To any of his demands.

warnings: dark!Steve Rogers (really, he’s not a softie here, he dark); manipulation; blackmail; threats; power imbalance; specific warnings will be added for each chapter separately

warnings for this chapter: none

Be patient, please, this first part is only an introduction and setting the scene.

Chapter 1. Storm on the horizon

~ * ~

A stream of dark cars, which slowly pulled up to the curb, distorted the innocent image of pristine sidewalk with raised flower bed pots soaked in early summer sunlight, immediately drawing Felix’s attention from the plants he’s been watering in his office. 

The center had a large parking lot on the other side of the property, where clients could leave their cars without interrupting the usual street flow at the front side. No one ever pulled up to the very front; beside that one evening a few years ago when the official opening ceremony turned into a gala with VIPs coming in their fancy limousines. 

Felix narrowed his eyes, watching through the window as three big, black cars stopped right in front of the steps leading to the building. Expensive models. They looked reinforced, too, meaning they were probably more expensive than a line of limousines. 

Two men stepped out of the first car, both of them doing a subtle sweep around before approaching the middle car. They stood on both sides of the backdoor, watchful of anything changing in their surroundings. 

A man slipped out of the front passenger’s side - big and bulky, with dark hair pulled into a bun, and dark sunglasses covering his eyes. He was wearing all black, from the heavy military boots to leather jacket and leather gloves. 

He walked around the car to the backseat guarded by two other men and pulled the door open. 

When yet another man stepped out, slowly stretching to his full height, Felix’s heart dropped to his stomach. 

That man he recognized. 

That man should not be anywhere near here. 

The watering-can almost fell out of Felix’s hand, his fingers spasming in a tremble of panic. Water spilled on the windowsill as he dropped it down with a thud, before running out of his office. 

The center has been quiet for the past few days, only slowly getting back to life after its short period of mourning. At this early time of day there weren’t many people inside, most patients coming in a bit later. 

Felix rushed down the corridor, shaken with the unexpected arrival and not knowing how to proceed. 

He should be doing something, he thought. Warn the right people. Having things not go smoothly was a novelty with which he had trouble dealing, especially in those circumstances. 

Not so long ago he boasted about having things under control, gaining even more confidence when you turned out to be kind and inexperienced in the nuances of the city’s complex socio-political wires. He could work with you without a hitch, Felix convinced himself - and others - of that fact. 

Three black cars pulling up in the early morning hours wrecked that simple plan.

Almost at your door, Felix ran straight into Natalie, your assistant. She was smaller than him, a filigree silhouette with a sharp bob and a murderous look. With a calendar in one hand and a traveling mug with hot coffee in the other, Natalie glared at him.  

“Felix, what the hell?” It was too early in the morning, for her at least, to be dealing with any crap. 

“Rogers is here! S-Steve Rogers is here!” 

He was breathless, air in his lungs burning not from the pace with which he ran, but the fear of that man about to enter the place.

Natalie frowned, looking above Felix’s shoulder at the still quiet and empty hall. Rogers’ name was recognized by many people in the city, even the lucky ones who had absolutely no connection to the dark tentacles of his criminal empire. 

Though, some whispers suggested that somehow everyone was tied to him. Some people just didn’t know it, living in sweet oblivion. 

“Well, then,” she took a sip of her coffee, “shouldn’t you be greeting him at the door and asking what exactly is he here for?”

“He’s not here for me, you know that.” Felix nearly shrunk in on himself, scared of the prospect of facing Rogers. 

He definitely didn’t want to be on his radar, even as someone simply pointing directions. They said Rogers never forgot a face. Oh no, it was better to be completely out of sight. Hide in a closet and wait for the storm to pass. 

“Of course.” Natalie rolled her eyes. “It’s obvious he’s here for the new boss.”

That moment the door to your office opened and you stepped out, almost bumping into Natalie - your newly acquired, or inherited, assistant. 

“I was actually about to go look for you.” You smiled at her.

Natalie, though she could be sour like a lemon, provided you a sense of security in the wicked waters you were treading through as of a few days. 

“I went through the outlines for the group classes last night.” You informed her.

 “I’d like to schedule a meeting with the therapists and construction manager. It would be better if they explained to him which changes in the project they need to be done.”

“I’ll arrange it.” She nodded, balancing the mug in the crook of her elbow and flipping the calendar open. 

You’ve met some well organized people in your life, but Natalie was like the highest functioning computer in a tiny human flesh. She included everything in the schedules she made, with traffic jam and bathroom breaks. 

Why she kept a paper calendar as well as a digital one in her phone, you had no idea. As long as it worked for her, and she worked for you, you weren’t going to judge her methods.

“I’ll reschedule today’s meeting with the lawyers, too.” Natalie added casually.

“Isn’t that in-” you checked your watch- “half an hour? Why do we need to reschedule?”

“Another meeting came up.” Natalie answered with a shrug, her gaze flicking to the end of the corridor from where heavy footsteps of someone approaching were gaining in volume. “A rather important one.”

“With whom?” You frowned. 

Beside the lawyers, or your grandmother, there wasn’t anyone you expected to be calling you on a whim demanding immediate attention. No one that you were aware of, at least. 

“Steve Rogers.” Felix squeaked.

“Who is that?” Your frown remained, only deepened. 

You didn’t recognize that name from any legal papers in which you were swarmed for the past couple of days. 

Felix’s eyes grew big, even Natalie seemed surprised that you didn’t immediately react at the sound of his name. 

Working at the center since its beginnings, they were probably used to all the people from elites and various organizations with whom Howard Stark used to work while running this place. 

You were barely familiar with some of the institutions. You knew you had to broaden your knowledge now, but it couldn’t be done in a week. You doubted it could be done in a year.

You were simply a neuropsychologist who spent two days every week for the past year helping Howard Stark after his stroke. A pawn on the full board of other specialists, who all tended to Howard. 

And yet, it was you with whom he grew a certain bond, maybe fondness, that led you to the overbearing mess of a situation. 

When Howard passed a few weeks ago, your mourning over a friendly patient was disrupted by an unexpected summoning. To the will reading. 

Among all of his wealth and companies, which were all inherited by his son Tony and his family (the sweetest woman you ever met, Pepper, and their daughter), the little chunk - a drop in the ocean really - was signed over to you.

The health and therapy center which Howard founded after his first stroke. Back then he bounced back to health quickly, but his road to recovery taught him how little help there is for people with neurological damages and impairments of any kind. 

It was a very narrow field. Getting appointments with specialists was hard, and mostly not covered by the insurance companies.

So Howard founded this center - in a huge building that once upon a time was a palace, then a private school, then a library before that one got a new, modern building in the heart of the city. 

You visited the place with him a few times, using very well equipped rooms and strolling through the vast inner garden. During one of your visits, you briefly mentioned how the place could also open for kids and teens after appropriate adjustments. 

Was it then that Howard decided to leave the center to you after his death? 

Was a single sentence enough to make such a drastic change in his will?

Then again, Howard was eccentric. Tony was too, from what you learned. He also wasn’t at all annoyed that his father included you in his will. 

Since the will reading, your life flipped upside down. You had no idea how to run a place like that, there was so much to learn. But it also was like a spark of courage to reach for dreams you never hoped to achieve. With the right people at your side, you could maintain the place and even expand it in the right direction.

For now, however, you were a green little sprout in a huge field of unknown. And the name Steve Rogers rang no bells.

“He’s-” Natalie paused, searching for the right word- “influential.”

He was more. 

He had power and control. 

Not only over the city’s streets, which he was ready to drown in blood if needed. Over hundreds of rats running in the wheel of the underworld’s crime machine, as well over people in pristine places and on high stools in the capitol. 

And he conquered it in brutal ways; paved his road with bodies and fear.

It was safe to assume that if someone had any influence - be it political, or in the media - Rogers had that person on a string. No, not a string, a heavy chain with immediate suffering at the end if they stepped out of line.

One could assume Stark knew Rogers in some capacity, though the man not once stepped anywhere near the center. Whether he had Howard in his pocket, or if they had a different relation, they were never seen together here. 

“I’ve been meeting influential people for the past week.” You scoffed. “Each of them had a scheduled meeting. Mr Rogers can schedule one too.” 

You wanted to maintain a good relationship with donors and patrons, but you weren’t going to bend your back for any of them. People needed to learn boundaries. Rich people especially. 

“It would be better-” Natalie began.

A male voice, deep and cool as a mountain brook, interrupted her:

“I do have a scheduled meeting.”

His voice carried over through the corridor easily, without him having to shout. In a few, long strides he was standing right behind Felix. Another man kept a step behind him. 

He walked with the prowess of someone who owned the place (and anyone in it). For a split of a second you felt like taking a step back and bowing your head. Then you remembered that he did not, in fact, own the place. 

Nor did he own you.

Rogers was tall, Felix’s head barely reaching above his shoulder. With golden blond hair, shorter at the sides and slightly longer strands coiffed back. You saw a glimpse of your own stunned reflection in his dark aviators before he took them off, revealing stunningly blue eyes. 

Broad shoulders seemed to stretch the black leather of his jacket and when he put his hands on his hips his frame appeared to double in size. 

His gaze briefly slid from you to Natalie, who was now taut like a string, quickly returning to you with a mocking glimmer in his eyes.

“Don’t I, Miss Stendhal?” He addressed Natalie. Somehow, it sounded as if he knew her, and it wasn’t a good thing at all.  

“Yes.” She replied immediately, astonishingly calm and stoic. “Mr Rogers had scheduled this meeting a week ago, but I made a mistake writing it in the calendar. It’s my fault there was a mishap. I’m sorry.” 

You turned to stare at her, disbelieving every single word. 

You may have known her for less than two weeks, but you already learned she makes no mistakes of that kind. Her organization skills were better than the army’s. 

Natalie’s face betrayed nothing. She was as poised as every day, admitting to the supposed mistake with cool professionalism. 

“That’s okay. I’m sure you corrected the issue.” Rogers smiled. 

It was charming at first glance. Reminded you of a chivalrous sweetheart from the romances you occasionally liked to read. But there was an edge to it, like a shark’s grin a second before making you his dinner. 

“Of course.” Natalie tilted her chin, as if offended that someone dared to doubt her efficiency. “Like I said, I’ve rescheduled the lawyers to clear this hour for you, Mr Rogers.”

Then she took two graceful steps to the side, clearing the entrance to your office. She sent a glare Felix’s way - who was nearly shaking like a leaf having Rogers at his back. He shuffled quickly to her side, not once glancing at Rogers or his bodyguard. 

Natalie gave him her coffee mug, so he could focus his trembling hands on something. His thoughts scattering, Felix mindlessly lifted the mug to his lips and took a nervous sip. Natalie would undoubtedly tear his head off for it in different circumstances. 

The moment his path was clear, Rogers took a single step forward. It was enough to find himself toe to toe with you. 

A waft of spicy, woody scent of his cologne swirled around you; a teasing tendril as much part of him with its dangerous allure. He towered over you and the expanse of his chest seemed to cut off your vision of anything else around. 

The fact you had to crane your neck to look up at him seemed to amuse him. Or please him. 

Perhaps both.

Whatever kind of benefactor he was, you suspected you wouldn't like him a single bit. There were no idle threats made, not even any pompous comments a spoiled prick with money could make. 

Yet he made the hair on your nape stand, your pulse quickening as adrenaline poured into your system at the instinct’s suggestion that this was a dangerous predator. 

You weren’t sure if you’d fight or flight, though usually you chose the former. 

Unknown to you yet, he wouldn’t allow you either.

[be-missed]

Not Strong Enough (Chap 1)

Jenna Ortega X Fem!Reader

(Pictures not mine)

Summary: Jenna was visiting her mom in the hospital to drop off the food that will be eaten for the hospital party, but she met a resident surgeon and she thought "God forbid I ran into an accident, but I want her to open me and stitch me up." While the surgeon tries her best to keep her fan girling low-key.

Warning: Probably mentions of kniv3s and blad3s or any surgical equipment. A few curse words as of now.

A/N: So plan on making a series, I don't know how long this will take and I don't want to say any promises. Hope you enjoy the story!

Masterlist

_________________________________________________________

Chapter 1

"Mom said I should drop by the hospital and bring the pizza she ordered earlier." Jenna yelled to her family while going down their front door.

"Okay sweetheart, you take care and kiss your mother for me" her dad said while blowing Jenna a kiss.

Starting the car and connecting her bluetooth, now she is ready to drive. As the traffic lights hit red, she remembered that one of her friend recommended her a song to listen to, and she played it as the light turn to green.

Humming to the addicting beat of the song, she now try to find an empty parking lot at the hospital, which is a difficult task to do by the way, a heavy amount of people comes and goes, and some that probably stayed.

Jenna almost passed a white civic that left the spot as she sigh, now this is the hardest part, harder than finding a parking lot, is to park the car itself, she is having a hard time since she is used to her mom beside her and helping her to look at the back. But she needs to be a big girl now and do this.

A minute or so have passed and Jenna congratulated herself by parking her car so good that it follows the line and got the sides an equal space. She picks her phone up and messaged her mom that she's going up to her.

While walking through the lobby of the hospital, she noticed that some people are occupied to not notice her which she is thankful since she doesn't want to have a crowd and some people looked at her and she smiled politely at them. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the close button so fast so that nobody can be with her inside it.

Humming with the elevator music, floors passes by and the doors open with a ding, walking through the same designed hallway makes her remember that scene from her old movie scream. As she reached the reception like part of the floor, she smiled brightly and tried to ask one of the nurse that was standing beside the desk.

"Uhm hey, excuse me.." Jenna started but got cut-off when the nurse got called in the surgery room for extra hands, so what she did next is to ring the table bell to attract some attention that she needs to find her mom.

"Hello, how can I help you?" a woman appeared from the back room with the brightest smile she could ever see.

Stagnant. Freeze. Stop. Pause.

That was what Jenna like for a second, and the person standing opposite to her started to panic "Hey, are you okay? Do you need water?" Y/N stated.

"Oh.. I... I need my mom." Jenna stated while trying to compose herself "Uhm, no, I mean... Yes, yes I need my mom."

The woman in front of her gives her a questionable look... "Miss I don't know who your mom is, may I know her name so I can help you find her?" Y/N stated.

Well, Y/N knows, she definitely knows who is this girl in front of her, holding 3 large pizza boxes, this woman who is slightly smaller than her, has this wonderful freckles that painted her face, who have this deep dimple on her cheek, a wavy black hair and this cute bangs. Oh, definitely she is familiar with the woman in front of her.

"Oh I'm sorry, I'm here for Natalie Ortega, she works here." Jenna stated while smiling. Damn it, did she really just froze there and told this beautiful lady that she needs her mom. She noted to herself that she needs to practice on how to stay cool and not to lose her rizz when she faces a beautiful women.

"Nat? Your mom is Natalie" The woman in front of her looks like a light bulb appeared above her head "I think she's inside the surgery helping Dr. Ava, but let me go to the surgery room, I let her know that you are here." Y/N stated while going to the other side of the desk where Jenna is.

"Oh, you don't need to, I can just wait for her." Jenna said while trying to hold the 3 large pizza boxes.

Y/N shakes her head and said "It's okay, I need to actually do something, I've been sitting there for so long my feet might forget how to walk if I didn't stand." with a little laugh at the end. She know think "Nice what a lame joke."

"Well, thank you, these pizza boxes is getting heavier" Jenna said and Y/N helped her to put it on top of the desk.

Fingers brushed, eyes locked, and lips started to curl.

"Well uhm... may I know your name?" Y/N asked the girl in front of her.

Then Jenna thinks "wow this pretty girl is so into me, she wants to know my freaking name." Jenna was so proud of herself she accidentally said "Why? So you could add me to the blank space on your list?" with a slight wiggle of her brows and a little smirk.

Y/N looked at Jenna and was stunned with what the girl said, Y/N thinks "did she just flirt with me? I mean, can it be? Or am I just delusional?" Y/N composes herself and replied "Well, I need to know your name since I need to tell her that her daughter is here, right?"

"Ground, swallow me please oh please" with that reply Jenna just wants to be swallowed by the ground where she stood way down below where her parked car is. SHE THOUGHT WRONG.

Jenna tried to just laugh it off and answered "I'm Jenna, Jenna Ortega" and offers her hand.

"I'm Dr. Y/L/N, I'm a resident surgeon here. So you can seat by the waiting area and I'll go to your mom and tell her that her daughter needs her." Y/N said and winked at Jenna and started to walk to to the surgery room.

Jenna walked to the row of chairs and started to cringe at herself from the inside. She fished out her phone and texted Aliyah:

To Aliyah:

I met this cute doctor and my mind just went blank. WTF!

Fr Aliyah:

Well having no love life really has a side effect, lol.

To Aliyah:

You know what, you are not helping at all, BYE!

Fr Aliyah:

WELL HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO REACT?

To Aliyah:

IDK maybe comfort me? I'm your sister after all.

Fr Aliyah:

Just deliver the damn pizza and go home so you can tell me all

To Aliyah:

I will, when mom gets out, bye, love you.

Fr Aliyah:

Love you too, stay safe!

Jenna turns her phone off and was surprised with Y/N standing in front of her.

"What the hell, you could have given me a heart attack." Jenna said while holding her chest.

"That's good, you are in a hospital, in front of you is a doctor, we are surrounded by our lovely nurses, you will live if ever that happened" and Y/N gave her a cheeky smile.

"Geez thanks doc" Jenna answered sarcastically with a smile "Where is my mom then?"

"Well your mom said she can't go out of the surgery room and told me to help you instead to bring the pizza boxes in the break room since you need a keycard to go in there." Y/N replied while showing her I.D.

Jenna nod and said "Lead the way then." and smiled.

While walking, Y/N is now holding the pizza boxes while Jenna strolled along beside her.

"Why did you not get my attention earlier when I was sitting and you were standing in front of me?" Jenna asked.

"You were smiling, and I thought may be you are talking to your boyfriend so I waited until you turn off your phone. I don't want to interrupt you know." Y/N answered.

Even if it is hard for her to think that Jenna have a boyfriend, she doesn't have the say when it comes to it.

"Okay. Then why is this the first time that I see you here? You said you were a resident yet I haven't seen you in my past visits?" Jenna asked, again.

Y/N replied "It's my third month here and maybe you just don't visit during my work time that's why we don't see each other."

Jenna nodded and accepted it as a valid reply.

Y/N opened taps her I.D and opened the door for Jenna to come in first "Here is the break room, and thank you for the pizza, I have been craving these for days, thank God Nat bought it for us."

"So, you and my mom are close huh?" Jenna asked again, which Y/N noticed.

"Well yes, she is approachable, sweet, and kind so, what's not to like about your mom." Y/N said with a smirk.

"Woah there, do you like my mom, just to inform you my dad and her is in a healthy relationship and we are a happy family." Jenna answered a bit annoyed. BECAUSE, why would you like her mom if she is literally in front of you. HELLO?! ARE YOU BLIND!?

"Hey, I didn't tell that I like your mom, I'm sorry if that's how you interpret it, she just makes me feel welcomed, okay? And your mom is pretty, but I like someone, yeah?" Y/N replied but inside her head, its is all "IT IS YOU, YOU DUMBASS, I LIKE YOU NOT YOUR MOM."

"Okay, I'm sorry too, I just get defensive when it comes to my family." Jenna smiled .

"Well if that is all that you need, then we finished our task. I also need to go back there, I have a surgery in 30 minutes." Y/N said with a sad smile.

"Sure, I'm sorry for holding you off." Jenna said while they go out of the room.

Walking back, Y/N didn't stopped by the reception and accompanied Jenna to the elevator.

Y/N broke the silence and took Jenna's arm which she was surprised while Y/N scribbled on her skin.

The elevator dinged which indicated that Jenna needs to go.

"See you around Jen!" Y/N stated while she rushed off.

Jenna was so baffled with the action and just waved, as the elevator door close, she lifts her long sleeves and saw a note

"My number, just in case you have more questions."

In Jenna's head "DID SHE JUST GAVE ME HER NUMBER?! WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK" and smiled to herself.

She is now determined to go to the hospital more to visit her mom and a side quest to see you.

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Chap 2 A/N: Well I think that was a long one. Comments and suggestions are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed the story and hope you wait for the next chapters!

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse

Masterlist

CHAPTER 1

As the new F1 season begins, a wave of anticipation and excitement envelops both Natalie and Lando. For Lando, the racetrack is not just a place to showcase his driving prowess; it's a canvas where he paints his aspirations of success. The aspiration to perform consistently, stand atop the podium, and clinch victories symbolises his hunger for glory. This season represents a pivotal moment in his career, a chance to transcend from promising talent to a formidable force in Formula 1.

Lando's focus on consistent performance indicates a strategic approach to the season. He understands the importance of not just individual brilliance but also the need for a sustained effort across races. The podium is not merely a physical platform; it's a symbol of accomplishment and recognition. Standing there signifies that Lando has not only met but exceeded expectations. Each race becomes an opportunity for him to etch his name in the history of McLaren and Formula 1.

Meanwhile, for Natalie, the new season brings its own set of challenges and goals. Her role as Lando's PR Manager is not just about managing media interactions and public relations; it's about crafting and enhancing Lando's image both on and off the track. The challenge lies in maintaining a delicate balance between showcasing Lando's personality and ensuring a positive public perception.

However, Natalie's ambitions reach beyond the immediate season. She envisions herself as more than just a PR Manager; her goal is to ascend to the position of managing the entire McLaren F1 team. This aspiration reflects not only her confidence in her abilities but also her commitment to the long-term success of the team. Solidifying her role with Lando is a stepping stone toward greater responsibilities within the McLaren organisation.

“I haven’t seen Lucas around. Is he still coming to watch the race?” Lando innocently asks Natalie as they sit in his driver’s room with Lando signing caps and other McLaren merchandise.

“I doubt it.” Natalie responds, avoiding eye contact.

“Oh. How come?” Lando asks, confused.

“We broke up.” Natalie informs him as she hands him the next batch of caps to sign.

“When did that happen? He didn’t mention anything to me.” Lando continues to pry.

“After Christmas.” Natalie bluntly answers.

Lando's signature hand pauses mid-air as he processes Natalie's revelation. The room, once filled with the mechanical hum of the race cars outside, now echoes with the weight of unexpected news. His innocent inquiry unravels a personal chapter that Natalie had kept tightly closed for months.

The dynamics between Lando and Lucas had always been a delicate balance, their interactions shaped by a shared connection with Natalie. While Lando and Lucas managed to find common ground and form a semblance of friendship, the undercurrent of tension remained, fueled by Lando's observations of how Lucas treated Natalie during her first season with McLaren the year prior.

Natalie had been the bridge between the two, her professional role demanding a level of collaboration between her boyfriend and the driver she worked with. Lando, appreciating the importance of maintaining a harmonious team atmosphere, tried to put aside his personal reservations for the sake of professionalism. However, it wasn't easy for him to look past Lucas's treatment of Natalie.

Lando, inherently protective of those close to him, struggled to like Lucas when he witnessed moments of disrespect or insensitivity toward Natalie. It wasn't just about professional courtesy; it was a matter of personal values. Lando valued the people around him, especially those who supported him in various capacities, and seeing someone mistreat Natalie sparked a sense of loyalty and concern.

In those moments, Lando found himself grappling with the conflict between friendship and principle. While he maintained a civil demeanour and tried to foster a positive atmosphere with Lucas, there were times when he couldn't suppress his disapproval of Lucas's behaviour. The struggle to balance his personal feelings with the need for a cohesive team dynamic presented an ongoing challenge for Lando.

Natalie, caught in the middle, appreciated Lando's support but also urged him to prioritise the professional environment. She understood the complexities of the situation and attempted to keep the personal and professional spheres separate. However, the tension lingered, adding an additional layer of complexity to the dynamics within the McLaren team.

“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that.” Lando says, the tone of his voice now tinged with concern. He couldn't help but feel a sense of awkwardness settling in the room. The merchandise, once a simple part of race day preparations, now carries an unexpected emotional weight.

Natalie maintains her focus on the merchandise, her eyes fixed on the caps as she avoids direct eye contact with Lando. The revelation casts a subtle shadow over the room, and she is determined to carry on with their professional tasks, steering clear of the personal. Lando, however, can't let it go

“After Christmas? Why didn't you tell me?” Lando asks, a mix of confusion and curiosity etched on his face.

“Honestly, I was just trying to keep my head above water.” Natalie confesses, her eyes revealing a mix of vulnerability and resilience. She takes a deep breath, gathering her thoughts before continuing. "Remember, we dated before I moved to the UK. We lived together, so I had to get my own place and move all my stuff."

Lucas, her high school sweetheart, had been her anchor for six years. Their journey had taken them from South Africa to the UK, where Natalie pursued her studies and Lucas secured a job opportunity in London. He was more than just a partner; he represented home, stability, and a significant chapter of her life.

Despite the duration of their relationship and the shared history, Natalie found herself in a place of grief. The breakup marked the end of a long-standing connection, and the process of disentangling their lives proved to be a challenging and emotional endeavour. Lucas had been her constant, her support system, even if it came at a cost.

Lucas's treatment toward Natalie painted a stark contrast to the nostalgia that might have lingered in her heart. The emotional toll of being screamed at, called names, and enduring his disdain for her job added a layer of complexity to the grieving process. Despite the toxicity, the familiarity of their history made it difficult for Natalie to sever those emotional ties completely.

Lando, now privy to the depths of Natalie's experience, feels a surge of empathy and concern. He realises that her grief wasn't solely about the end of a romantic relationship but also the dismantling of a life she had built with someone who, at one point, had been her everything.

Lucas merely befriended Lando with ulterior motives as to ensure nothing would ever foster emotionally between Lando and Natalie because of their close working relationship. Lando, who had tried to maintain a friendship despite his reservations about Lucas's treatment of Natalie, now grapples with a newfound understanding of the underlying dynamics.

“You should have told me, then I could have helped you.” Lando mumbles, his eyes convey a mixture of regret and genuine concern .

“Shoulda, woulda, coulda, huh?” Natalie, ever resilient, responds with a subtle smile.

“Nattie, seriously. Are you OK?” Lando genuinely asks, his voice reflecting a sincerity that transcends their professional relationship.

“I’m better now.” Natalie assures him, her small smile carrying a hint of gratitude.

The acknowledgment of Lando's concern created a bridge between them, a reminder that beyond the race strategies and public relations duties, they were individuals navigating the complexities of life.

Lando's soft spot for Natalie had been evident from the very beginning, stretching back to her first day at the McLaren Technology Centre over a year ago. There was something about her kindness, dedication, and unwavering support that resonated with him. As they travelled the globe together for races, a bond formed, rooted in mutual respect and trust.

The introduction to Lucas after the first race of the previous season brought about a different dynamic. Lando, despite his efforts to maintain harmony, couldn't comprehend the connection between Natalie and Lucas. They seemed like polar opposites, and Lucas's penchant for criticising Natalie's work only deepened Lando's reservations.

Despite his disapproval, Lando tried to bridge the gap by inviting Lucas out, attempting to understand the dynamics of their relationship. However, in those moments, he couldn't shake the feeling that Natalie deserved better. Lucas's possessive and objectifying attitude towards Natalie grated on Lando's sensibilities, making him acutely aware of the stark difference in how they viewed and treated her.

Lando grappled with the discomfort of witnessing someone he considered a friend be treated in such a way. The distaste for Lucas's disrespectful remarks and possessive demeanour fueled an internal conflict, as Lando navigated the fine line between maintaining professional courtesy and expressing his concern for Natalie.

Despite his observations, Lando refrained from explicitly sharing his thoughts with Natalie. He respected her independence and knew she was capable of making her own decisions. Yet, he held onto the hope that she would see Lucas for who he truly was - and she finally did. The news of Natalie ending things with Lucas brought a sense of relief to Lando. He felt genuinely happy for her, recognizing that she could now move forward with her life unburdened by a toxic relationship.

“Anyway, enough about me” Natalie states, her tone lightening. “Did a special lady pop up since I last saw you?”

“Nope. Still just me, myself, and I.” Lando chuckles in response, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“The fans are going to have a field day knowing you're still single.” Natalie playfully adds.

“I'm happy to be single until I find someone who ticks all the boxes.” Lando, unbothered, responds with a confident grin.

Lando reassuringly squeezes Natalie’s shoulder before he hurries off to speak with his race engineer. Natalie takes a seat behind the screens and pops on a headset as she watches replays of qualifying the day before. The ambient sounds of the garage, a mix of distant engine roars and muffled conversations, create a dynamic backdrop to the focused atmosphere.

With the headset snugly in place, Natalie's attention sharpens on the screens in front of her. The glow illuminates her face as she immerses herself in the detailed analysis of the team's performance during the qualifying session. The occasional chatter over the headset and the intermittent sounds of tools and equipment being handled blend into a rhythmic symphony, underscoring the team's preparation for the imminent race.

- AFTER THE RACE -

“Congratulations, Lando, on a great race today. What does this mean for the rest of the season?” The enthusiastic interviewer asks Lando.

“Appreciate it. Big shoutout to the McLaren crew for their grind during the winter break, putting together a solid car. We're still getting the hang of the new machine, but snagging second and fourth at the season kick-off is a promising start. Looking forward to unleashing this beast on the other tracks.” Lando explains, sweat dripping down his brow from the hot race he had just completed.

“You seemed to have a busy winter break. What, or who, do you think helped get you into a positive mindset coming into this season?” The interviewer continues.

“Honestly, just spending time with my family and friends was a great reminder to remain humble and appreciate the small moments in life. I lost my granddad over the winter break, so that kind of put things into perspective for me.” Lando answers, wiping away the sweat with a towel.

“And, no lucky lady to celebrate your P2 tonight?” The interviewer chuckles.

Natalie's gaze lifts to the interviewer, registering the conspicuous absence of sympathy in their response to Lando's revelation. The weight of the loss he had shared seemed to hang in the air, untouched by the expected words of condolence or empathy. Unsettled by the apparent oversight, Natalie decides to intervene, steering the conversation in a more considerate direction.

“That’s all we have time for, thank you.” Natalie declares - her tone firm - as she guides Lando away from the glaring cameras and back into the welcoming confines of the hospitality building. Lando, still processing the insensitive turn of the interview, quickened his pace to keep up with Natalie through the hallways. “Absolutely crass.”

“What’s that?” Lando questions, his eyebrows furrowing in a mix of confusion and frustration.

“I sometimes forget how classless the media can be. Seriously, you disclose the fact that you lost your grandfather and she makes no effort to express her sympathy.” Natalie explains, her voice tinged with a blend of disappointment and protective concern for her driver.

The weight of recent events hung heavy on Natalie's heart as she made the journey to the UK to attend Lando's grandfather's funeral. Mere days after her breakup with Lucas, her own heartbreak was set aside as she prioritised being there for Lando and offering support to him and his grieving family. The bond with Lando's family had grown strong since she joined McLaren, with invitations to holiday events making her feel like an extended member of their close-knit circle.

Lando's family had always gone above and beyond to include her in their gatherings. The previous Easter weekend, when she couldn't travel back to South Africa to be with her own family, they had made her feel welcomed and loved. These gestures had forged a sense of belonging, making Lando's family an integral part of her life.

Sitting in the back of the church during the funeral, Natalie observed the waves of grief that swept over Lando and his family. Tears and sobs echoed in the sombre atmosphere as they mourned the loss of their beloved family member. Natalie, despite her own struggles and heartache, focused on providing the support that Lando and his family needed during this difficult time.

It was precisely the depth of this loss that left Natalie annoyed by the subsequent interviewer's callousness. The media had no idea how profoundly the death had rocked Lando's family, and their lack of empathy struck a nerve with Natalie. The disconnect between the public facade and the private grief was a stark reminder of the challenges faced by individuals in the public eye, and Natalie, protective of those she cared about, found herself grappling with a mix of emotions as she navigated the intricate tapestry of personal and professional relationships within the McLaren family.

“Hey, it’s OK.” Lando offers, attempting to console Natalie. “Like I said to her, it puts things in a different perspective.”

Natalie glances at Lando over her shoulder, and a sense of relief washes over her. His calm demeanour and understanding response reassure her. He doesn't seem upset by the insensitive question or the lack of empathy from the interviewer, giving Natalie a cue to let go of her annoyance. Natalie takes a deep breath, appreciating the support from Lando and the acknowledgment that some things are beyond their control.

- THAT NIGHT -

“It’s been a stellar start to the year and we’re looking forward to seeing where Lando and Oscar take McLaren this year. Here’s to a brilliant season.” Zak Brown declares with a smile as he raises his champagne flute for a toast at the McLaren start-of-the-season dinner.

The long table is filled with the McLaren team, a diverse group ranging from mechanics to engineers to marketing officials. Zak's words resonate, creating a moment of shared excitement and anticipation for the upcoming season. After the toast, the team engages in lively conversation and indulges in the dinner spread.

Seated between the two drivers, Natalie finds herself immersed in a discussion about a specific corner at the Bahrain Grand Prix, a topic that unites the trio. Lando, with a casual ease, rests his arm on the back of Natalie's chair as he leans over to chat with Oscar. Natalie, sitting back, feels a sense of relaxation and peace. It's a stark contrast to the weeks of turmoil since her relationship ended. In the midst of her team, surrounded by people who share her passion for racing, Natalie rediscovers a familiar sense of joy and camaraderie.

“It was smooth. I don’t think I’ve taken that corner that well before.” Lando adds with a grin as he engages in conversation with his teammate.

Their camaraderie, evolving from being teammates to friends, is evident in their banter. The second season together has brought about a deeper understanding, and the shared experiences on the track have solidified their connection.

“Compared to DNFing last year, this was by far one of my favourite races yet.” Oscar comments, his enthusiasm evident in his words. However, before the conversation can delve deeper, he gets distracted by someone to his left, leaving the statement hanging in the air.

“You’re awfully quiet tonight.” Lando observes, his light nudge to Natalie's ribs coaxing a small smile from her.

“Just taking everything in. I missed this.” She explains, her gaze wandering across the lively scene around them.

“I suppose it helps not having someone constantly messaging you to find out what you’re doing.” Lando comments before realising the weight of his words.

“There is that too.” Natalie agrees, her chuckle carrying a hint of relief.

“I know it must be difficult, but I’m just glad you’ll be able to enjoy your life without feeling guilty.” Lando tells her, his eyes meeting hers. With a subtle gesture, he removes his arm from the back of her chair, proceeding to savour his dessert.

He had found her crying in the paddock one too many times last season to not be relieved about her leaving Lucas. Lando had been an inadvertent witness to the toll their relationship was taking on Natalie's mental health and self-esteem. He had seen the tears, heard the phone calls, and been privy to the distressing text messages. It was evident that the relationship had become a source of emotional strain and turmoil for her.

For Lando, seeing Natalie break free from the shackles of that tumultuous relationship was a cause for genuine happiness. He knew she deserved to live her life peacefully and without the heavy burden of regrets. The bond they shared within the McLaren family went beyond the racetrack; it extended into the realm of personal well-being. Lando, having witnessed Natalie's struggles, felt a profound sense of relief knowing that she could now move forward and find the tranquillity and happiness she deserved.

“And, for what it’s worth, you seem happier.” Lando adds, his genuine concern and care evident as he spoons a mouthful of Tiramisu into his mouth.

Natalie smiles in response, savouring a bite of her lemon cheesecake. The bond between her and Lando had been instantaneous when she started working for McLaren. Circumstances dictated their closeness as they spent more time together than with their own friends or family. Lando's visits home to his parents often included Natalie, who had no family or friends in the UK or Monaco until Lucas moved to the UK.

A shift occurred when Lucas moved to London, becoming a more constant presence in Natalie's life. She moved in with him, and the dynamic with Lando changed. Lucas's insecurity cast a shadow over her friendship with Lando, even though it was an integral part of her professional responsibilities to be by his side at races and media appearances. The relationship became stifling, with Lucas questioning Natalie's every move and decision. Lando, recognizing the toxicity of the situation, did his best to support Natalie and mitigate the escalating tensions.

“My parents are going to be in Jeddah next weekend. They’ve been dying to see you.” Lando tells Natalie.

“I’ve missed them so much.” Natalie admits with a genuine smile, the warmth of her emotions evident. “And, your sisters, of course.”

“They’re coming as well.” Lando adds, causing her smile to grow even bigger. The anticipation of reuniting with familiar faces, especially those who have become a second family to her, adds an extra layer of joy to the upcoming weekend.

As Lando and Natalie stepped out of the restaurant, the crisp night air greeted them, providing a refreshing contrast to the warmth of the dinner venue. The decision to walk back to the hotel seemed like a natural extension of the camaraderie they shared, and the short distance only added to the appeal.

The city's evening lights painted a picturesque scene around them as they strolled along the illuminated streets. The ambient sounds of the city, a harmonious blend of distant traffic hums and the occasional laughter from nearby cafes, created a tranquil backdrop for their conversation.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what was the final straw?” Lando bluntly asks her.

“What do you mean?” Natalie asks, confused.

“What made you finally break up with him?” He clarifies.

“It was a series of things that happened leading up to Christmas. We obviously went home to celebrate Christmas with our families back home. I got him this stunning watch he had been raving over for months, gave it to him and he was so uninterested in it. I mean, I get it, tastes fade, but I spent quite a bit of money on it and he was so unappreciative of it. And, he literally gifted me a notebook set that he must have bought the day before, no thought whatsoever.” Natalie starts. “Then as we got back to the guesthouse after dinner, he started complaining that I spent all day on my phone and demanded to see who I was texting. So, I gave him my phone and, honestly, I still don’t quite know what he saw, but he threw my phone against the wall and it broke, obviously.”

“So, he was getting physically aggressive?” Lando asks.

“Very much. When I asked him why he threw my phone, he went on this tirade about how he knew I was cheating on him, blah, blah, blah, and before I knew it, I was shoved into a door. Bruised my arm pretty badly. And, that was it. I don’t think I ever felt that disgusted in my life. I took my stuff, drove back to my Mom’s and booked a flight back. Luckily I had a spare phone. And, when I got back to London, I started packing my stuff and then you let me know about your granddad, then I was on my way to you.” Natalie elaborates.

“I had no idea things got so out of hand.” Lando mutters as they continue to stroll at a leisurely pace towards the hotel.

“I should have ended things far sooner looking back.” Natalie comments as she shoves her hands into her jacket’s pockets.

The two continue to walk in silence, the weight of Natalie's revelation hanging in the air. Deep down, Lando's blood boils with a mixture of anger and frustration. The idea that Natalie had endured such emotional and physical trauma at the hands of someone who claimed to love her fills him with a sense of indignation.

As they navigate the quiet streets, the rhythmic sound of their footsteps is punctuated by the heavy thoughts that occupy their minds. Lando, usually so composed, finds himself grappling with the harsh reality of Natalie's experiences.

“Just know that I’m here no matter what. If he even tries to contact you or anything, you let me know.” Lando blurts out.

“Thank you.” Natalie shyly agrees as he pulls her under his arm.

In that moment, their protectiveness for each other takes on a new level. The unspoken understanding between them solidifies into a spoken promise of support and vigilance. Lando's words carry a weight of sincerity, a commitment to stand by Natalie's side through whatever challenges may arise.

Their bond, forged through shared experiences and a genuine friendship, becomes a fortress against the trials of life. They have each other's backs, ready to go to battle if it means preserving the other’s sanity. The unyielding loyalty they share is a testament to the strength of their connection.

They make a formidable team, and in each other's company, they find solace, strength, and a profound understanding that transcends the confines of their roles within McLaren.

[clintbartoncelebrationbash]

That's A Wrap!

The 2024 Clint Barton Celebration Bang has officially come to a close!

We have collectively created 10 fics, 10 pieces of artwork, and 2 podfics, all celebrating the greatest archer in the world!! There's something for everyone - whether you're a long time Clint Barton fan or just starting out; whether you like friendships, relationships, or fully-focused character studies; whether you like shorter snapshots or longer epics. Check out the full list below and send these amazing creators some love!

💜💜💜💜

Anchor Points

Fic by @widowsresolve | Art by @betrayedbycinnamon 37,935 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton & Barney Barton, Clint Barton/Laura Barton, Clint Barton &/ Natasha Romanov

Summary: For one glorious, gravity-defying moment, Clint felt like he was flying as he jumped from the swing.

It made him feel like he could do anything. It made him feel fearless and untouchable.

He needed more of that in his life.

--

The journey of Clint's life from a boy wishing for a better life in Waverly, Iowa to the man who becomes an Avenger and the relationships that helped to make him who he is.

💜💜💜💜

(hands) touching hands

Fic by @safelycapricious | Art by @auripigmentum 2,384 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen and Up Clint Barton/Natasha Romanov

Summary: “And what name was on your wrist?” Coulson asks.

“Uh, none?” Clint says, scratching at his eyebrow.

“You have a burn scar,” Coulson says, carefully, like he’s talking to a bomber off of a ledge, “where your soulmate name was.”

💜💜💜💜

The Healing Properties of Air Vents and Hot Chocolate

Fic by @sishal01 | Podfic by @flowerparrish 4,002 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton &/ Bucky Barnes

Summary: Clint gets de aged and little Clint is who finally pulls Bucky out of the asset

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Once in a Lifetime

Fic by @betrayedbycinnamon | Art by @carcrash429 12,088 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes, Clint Barton & Laura Barton

Summary: Nobody knows exactly which Clint triggered the inter-dimensional dominoes, but it doesn't really matter in the end, because this one just needs to focus on his new reality. He discovers some things about himself along the way.

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the road not taken looks real good now

Fic by @sup3rbloom | Art by @rufferto9 5,660 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen and Up Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

Summary: Clint is going on a road trip after the events of End Game. He needs some time to clear his head before getting back into the thick of it. While on the road, Clint runs into someone unexpected, and finds himself taking care of none other than Bucky Barnes himself, which eventually leads to Clint falling in love a little along the way.

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some of us are just born with tragedy

Fic by @graffiti-bi | Art by @auripigmentum 14,424 Words, 4/4 Chapters, Not Rated

Summary: After the events of Freefall, Clint and Lucky flee to Waverly. No one's going to look for him in a town he hasn't thought of setting foot in for the better part of two decades. Plus when it's safe to head back to New York he can just sell the farm and be done with the place for good. There's nothing left for him or Barney there anyways. Right?

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Summer Seasons

Fic by @teeelsie-posts | Art by @nolanfa | Art by @carcrash429 23,285 Words, 5/? Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Dick Grayson

Summary: The autumn that Clint is 12 years old, for the first time that he can remember, something really good happens.

The autumn that Clint is 12 years old, he meets Dick Grayson.

OR A Clint Barton POV companion piece to Winter Quarters.

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Support You All The Way

Fic and Podfic by @42donotpanic | Link to Art @wyxan 10,012 Words, 6/6 Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Matt Murdock

Summary: Matt notices his Partner changes over time.

OR:

5 times Natalie struggled with gender and 1 time Clint realised who he really was

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That's So Fletch

Fic by @artaxlivs | Art by @rufferto9 10,115 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Explicit Clint Barton/Bucky Barnes

Summary: Stop trying to make fletch a thing.

(I will not, nor will I stop shamelessly plugging 80s and 90s cult classics.)

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wrap your roots all around my bones

Fic by @carcrash429 | Art by @noxnthea 30,212 Words, 1/1 Chapters, Teen Clint Barton & Steve Rogers

Summary: “What exactly do you think it is we’ve found?”

“Pieces of yourself that you thought were lost.”

-

Clint and Steve thought they knew each other pretty well after six months of working and living together. Turns out, they each have a lot of ghosts buried in their past, waiting to be uncovered.

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[dying-brb]

desolation / an ellie x f!oc fanfiction / tlou universe

!slowburn !angst !subreader !domellie !fluff

tw: this is a heavy fic. mentions of sa, violence, gore, etc.

(oc starts off 14 but only for backstory)

chapter 1: 1090 words

ᨒ↟ 𖠰 1  -  serene release ᨒ↟ 𖠰

december 2033 - colorado

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Natalie -  14 yrs old  ⋆⭒˚.⋆

As I laid there, dying, I tried desperately to find the will to escape, blinking my heavy eyes in repetition.

Stay awake, Natalie.

But my eyes faltered. They rolled back and sank back into my skull begging for the relief of sleep. No, this wasn't sleep. It was a false prophet - an early demise clawing its way inside of my being, desperately pulling and tearing my soul from the weak husk I clung to.

My eyelids weighed heavier, the urge gnawing at me to let them fall shut, let the agony end; For just a moment, I considered it.

No.

Stay Awake.

I wasn't ready to die. Not really.

Ironically so, I prepared myself for this moment - begged for it, time and time again. When loved ones had died, when previous groups abandoned me, death had seemed like a serene release.

Growing up in this sick excuse for a world, I always wondered how it would happen. Would I be torn apart by Infected? Become the Infected? Succumb to the cruelty of a harsh winter? Starve?

No.

At this moment, it seemed more likely that I was going to die to a group of savage cannibals, and I would be butchered at the hands of a man that had a fascination for little girls.

My heart sank at the mere thought, and I felt bile rise in my throat, scorching my dry esophagus. I coughed lightly, choking down the vomit, I gasped for a quick breath of air and my lungs screamed in pain at the sudden inhalation. I gritted my teeth.

This was hell, but the pain was keeping me alert, keeping me alive.

Keep your fucking eyes open.

I remembered before, the moments when I had begged for the end to come, I had wondered if it would hurt—Death. Which now, in this moment, seemed like an idiotic thing to question.

Yeah, of course it fucking hurts. It hurts like hell.

The searing agony that gripped my muscles snapped me back to reality. I yanked my mind out of the past, only to be forcefully thrust into the harshness of the present moment. My heart was thumping quicker now, my breaths, once slow and wheezing were now rapid and full, croaking and stuttering, but full. I wondered if this was my bodies last-ditch attempt to save itself.

Alarm bells clanged inside my head, their echoes reverberating through my skull, vibrating as they reached my ears. My eyes widened, my once heavy lids were lighter now. Adrenaline surged through my veins, making my legs twitch with the urge to flee. I desperately wanted to leave this place and never look back, but I remained frozen on the cold tile where I lay, my body writhing with excruciating pain.

Still frozen in torment, I harnessed this newfound mental energy to survey my surroundings and formulate a plan. My eyes darted from corner to corner of the room, the hellish nature of the scene before me causing my heart to slam in my chest, and pound against my eardrums.

Breathe. Make a plan.

I refocused, absorbing every detail my fading mind could manage. I took deep breaths, exhaling slowly, my hands trembling as I noted the positions of windows, doors, and any potential exits for a swift escape. I scanned for anything that could serve as a weapon, should I break free from this confinement.

The caged room I lay in reeked of rotting meat and iron. I honed in on the pungent smell, the harsh fluorescent lighting casting unwelcome shadows, and the distant murmur of voices echoing through the halls.

Digging my nails into my side, I embraced the pain, using it to sharpen my senses and maintain consciousness. I resolved to absorb every detail, knowing that once I escaped and recovered, I would meticulously recount my steps, retrace him. Kill him. That fucking bastard.

David.

Suppressing tears of rage, I scoffed as I recalled how I found myself in this wretched corner of the world; Merely stumbled upon it in a midnight daze.

Just yesterday, I was scavenging through the snow-laden forests of Colorado. As for my exact location in Colorado, I couldn't tell you—it had become a blur amidst the relentless hunger that left my head light and my heart faintly beating. Lost in a delirium, as if I was one of them, the infected.

Perhaps this was what the early stages of mutation felt like, just before losing oneself—their personality, dreams, aspirations, and will to live all slipping away. Maybe all that remained was a relentless hunger and confusion, grasping at the flickering remnants of life while clinging desperately to the feeble fragments of humanity.

Then again, maybe not.

I simply felt adrift, with no hope left to cling to, my grasp slipping away from what little remained. It plunged me into a primal struggle for survival, fueled by animalistic paranoia. With my mind spinning, driven by the desperate quest for food, I had long abandoned the map and strayed from the path she had set me on. The path that led to the Fireflies. The path that would give meaning to my immunity. 

This thought sparked a glimmer of hope within me, reigniting my determination. Clutching my grumbling stomach, I leaned against a nearby tree trunk for support, resting my head against its rough bark, my breath ragged.

That's when realization sunk in—I couldn't feel my fingers or toes. Hypothermia.

Was this the end?

As I contemplated giving up and surrendering to the cold embrace of eternal slumber, a light pierced through the darkness of the forest, forcing my hand to shield my sensitive eyes. A voice, tinged with feigned concern, broke the silence.

"Excuse me. Are you alright?" The voice trembled slightly as a flashlight nervously scanned my body. "You look like hell."

I groaned in response, my lips barely moving, cautious of this stranger in these desperate times. Yet, with no other options left, I felt a flicker of hope that perhaps this solitary figure could be my salvation. Someone, anyone, was here, offering a chance at survival.

"Here, come with me," the awkward, lanky man said, taking my hand and guiding me, his shoulder bearing my weight. I couldn't protest even if I wanted to, the exhaustion held me in a tight grip, suppressing even my primal will to survive.

And so I went, practically dragged alongside the man, into this wretched corner of the world that I lay in now.

[darlingshane]

Salt of the Earth ~ Part 2

Pairing: Michael Berzatto x OFC

Summary: She was Carmy's best friend growing up, and Michael never looked at her as anything other than that until years later when she comes back to Chicago to start over. In the process, she turns his sorry excuse of a life upside down.

Content/Warnings: 18+. Explicit, Friends to lovers, Fluff, Heavy Angst, Smut, HJ, Fingering, P in V, Family Drama, Dysfunctional relationships, Addiction, Alcohol, Hangover, Pets, Pet names, Dialogue heavy, Undisclosed age gap.

Word Count: 7.5k // Chapters 5-7 // AO3 Link.

— Part 1 (Chapters 1-4)

Chapter 5: Eat Humble Pie

One more mistake turns into a lesson learned for Maya.

She climbs into her car before breaking in front of him and drives back home after the party to dwell in her misery.

It was silly of her to make herself available for someone who doesn't take her seriously half of the time. She should have seen it earlier that he's just an asshole, but being blindsided by guys like him is one of her many flaws.

Against her better judgment, she put herself out there for the first time in a long time. He knew that was a huge step for her, and he just had the nerve to dismiss her feelings.

She's not the one to play games with. If Michael can admit that there's something between them, then she's not going to invest more time on this or push for something he doesn't want. Maybe she’s being a little arrogant, it wouldn't be the first time someone told her that, but this wasn’t a one-sided thing. He’s been definitely reeling her in just as much. She felt that every morning she went into the beef before work, every time they went out for drinks, every time he came over, every call, every text… He initiated a lot of those. Who does he think he is to make her feel like she's crazy? Like she made that up in her head? It could be possible, she tries to internalize. Perhaps she latched onto Michael so desperately because he was the only person that made her feel welcomed. It was strange for a long time being back in Chicago and being with him felt like being home.

Her mind jumps back and forth, trying to find a logical explanation. She doesn't find any, but she's sure he has his reasons.

Trying to forget all that and more, it’s not easy.

A week after his birthday, there’s still a part of her that keeps holding onto all those moments and memories they’ve made together. From painting her room, to the day she took care of him when he got his wisdom teeth removed. To all the many nicknames he gave her. And that time, he dog-sat for Coco when Maya went out of town for a couple of days. He’d just sent pics and videos of them playing, so she wouldn’t worry. It’s still fresh in her memory the day he invited her to his Sunday Braciole tradition. They weren’t as frequent as they used to be since Carmy left, but at least two Sundays a month they got together to cook and eat, and just have a good time with friends and family. For the past two months, she never missed one of those Sundays, but it was a hard pass this week. She got a text from Natalie asking if she was okay, that they missed her and Coco, but she was far from okay. Maya just replied with some bullshit about coming down with something.

Many times she’s found herself wanting to pick up the phone and call him as she used to. She willingly had to fight that need every day until it disappeared.

One evening, when she comes home after work, pulling up on the driveway, she spots Michael sitting on her front stoop, having a smoke under the light of the porch. It’s dark and cold and the last thing she wants to do right now is face him, but there’s no way around it.

“Hey,” She mutters, walking up to the door as he puts out his cigarette and stands up.

“Hey, can we talk?” His breath manifests in the air, as he exhales that last puff he took.

“Depends on what you have to say,” Maya crosses her arms against her chest.

“Just wanted to say I’m sorry for being an asshole the other night. I never got to say thank you for the party. That was really nice of you.”

“That's fine, Michael. I'm over it. I got the message,” she says dryly.

“This isn't as easy as you think it is.”

“I think it is. Either you want me or you don't. But you can't string someone along for months, and then make them feel like shit for wanting something more. It's fucked up.”

“Yeah, I agree it's fucked up. I'm… fucked up.”

“I'd say.”

“Hey, you're no picnic either, sweetheart.”

“You're right, I'm not. But at least I'm honest about it. I admit that I can be a little intense and inconsiderate, but I don't try to hide it. You on the other hand hide behind layers and layers of fake smiles and charms and bullshit stories, cause if people were to look closer, they'd see the real Michael. The one that I see.”

“You're also unbelievably obnoxious, did you know that? You don't know shit about me.”

“Keep telling yourself that.”

“Have you even considered my part in all this, huh? You're Carmy's best friend. I knew you as a kid. How am I supposed to look him in the eye when he comes back in a few weeks and say – hey, by the way, I've been seeing Maya… Your Maya. What do you think he’s going to say? He's gonna hate the both of us.”

It's good to know he's considered all those things that didn't cross her mind. Yes, it'd hurt her to know that Carmy could potentially be affected by this. She wouldn't want that either, but no matter what, someone is getting hurt here.

“Well, I haven't thought about it that way, but I was never his to begin with. I’m my own person. I get to decide who I want. Not you, not him, not anyone. And even if something happened between you and me, it’s not like I’d rub it on his face.”

“Maya… You don't understand. You were everything to him.”

“Were. You’ve just said it. It's been a long time since high school, do you really believe that he's still hung up on me?”

“What if he is? What if you two were meant to be together?”

“Saying that out loud over and over won't make it come true. This isn't a fairy tale. And you should know that I haven't really talked to him, not one real conversation, since last year. Last time I heard from him was a text telling me he got the job at Noma. I said hey, congratulations, I'm proud of you… And he never spoke to me again. Told him I was moving back here, and crickets. And you know what? I still love him cause he's Carmy, but I'm not in love with him. I wish it was that easy. It'd be great if people could fall in love with the person they were supposed to be with. But it doesn't work that way, Michael.”

“Look, I know it's hard to understand, but I'm not the right guy for you. I'll never be. I thought we could be friends, but I can tell that's not enough for you, is it?”

“No, it isn't. If you feel that way, you should just go. It’s cold. I’m tired. And I should…” Defeated, she vaguely gestures at the front door before climbing the porch's steps.

“It hurts for me too, you know?” He mumbles as she unlocks the door.

“How’s that my problem?” She scoffs, incredulous at the gall he has of driving up there just to cause her more grief, and guilt-trip her. At least that is how it seems right now to her. “You’re the one that is too scared to feel anything real. I told you how I feel. I kissed you, for Christ’s sake! Am I supposed to feel sorry for you?”

“Maybe if you had stayed away from me, this would have never happened.”

“Are fucking serious right now?” she glances over her shoulder, letting her blood instantly come to a boiling point. “You gonna put this on me? This is just as much of your fault as it is mine. You knew that I was having a hard time adjusting, that I missed my friends, that I couldn't even turn to my family, and you took advantage of that. Go fuck yourself, Michael! Take your damn pills and go get high like you do every night to forget you're a fucking loser!”

Maya doesn't give him a chance to respond. She slams the door shut, turns on the light, and closes her eyes for a second as Coco comes out of her room to welcome her. The dog whines, happily wagging her tail, circling around Maya's boots.

Leaning down to pet her dog, she places her bag down on the floor. Coco lowers her ears as Maya holds her head and scratches her head.

“I'm so sorry I yelled, baby. C’mere,” she hugs her neck tight, taking some extra comfort from her pup cuddles and kisses for a moment until they both hear a shy knock on the door.

Hoping he’d just leave, she closes her eyes again and ignores it.

It’s worthless.

He knocks twice again.

And again.

“Maya? Open the door… Please. I’m… I’m sorry. You’re right, I’m a fucking loser. Let me try again… Please, I didn’t mean…”

“What do you say, should we open?” She asks Coco as she tilts her head to the door.

“Maybird. Mayhem. Can you hear me? Maya Papaya?”

It’s crazy to even consider going for round two, but she’s like a moth to a flame, unable to escape the appeal of that alluring heat.

Drawing a fortifying breath, she stands up and hesitantly unlocks the door.

“I thought I told you to stop calling me that.”

“I'm a lost cause. Can I come in?”

“Are you going to behave?”

“I promise.”

She lets him set foot inside to be warmly welcomed by Coco hoisting her front paws up to his chest, wagging her tail, sticking her head out to lick his face.

“Hey, Coco girl. Have you missed me?” He pets her fondly.

“Coco, get down. He doesn't deserve kisses right now,” Maya sighs, gesturing at the dog, and she begrudgingly obeys, getting down and finding her bed in the corner of the living room. “Okay, say what you gotta say? You have one minute.”

“That's not a lot.”

“You're wasting time.”

“Straight up. Alright… I came here to apologize, and I blew it cause you're right I'm a loser. I uh… I thought that by pushing you away was doing you a favor, but I can see now that's not how it works.”

“No, it doesn't,” Maya says firmly.

“Truth is that I don't know what I’m doing… I thought that if I came here and gave you some closure, we could just move on. But I'm looking at you right now, and I don't think I'll be able to do that. It'll be pretty hard to forget about you after everything…”

“Stop trying to sabotage yourself. Live a little. Isn't that what you told me that day when you helped me unpack? Why don't you take that advice for yourself?”

“Because I'm a piece of shit and I don't deserve you.”

“That's not true.”

“It is. You said outside… For the longest time I've been pretending to be something I'm not, that I'm not sure who I am anymore. I thought you fell for that version of me that isn't real. But you didn't, you saw through all my bullshit, and you fell for me anyway… Why?”

“Why? Because I'm probably out of my mind.” She can't help but scoff a little. “I keep falling for all the wrong guys. But believe it or not, you're not the worst I’ve dealt with, Michael. You're not perfect. Nobody is. You say you’re pretending you’re something you’re not… that must be exhausting. I can see it's catching up with you already…”

“It is exhausting.”

“So stop doing that.”

“It's not that simple. I'm not you.”

“The best things in life are hardly simple, hon. It'll hurt like a motherfucker to undo all the damage, but once you make it to the other side, it'll be worth it. I've been there. I’m not perfect, either.”

“I think you're pretty perfect to be honest.”

“I've done plenty of shit that says otherwise.”

“Yeah, but you admit it. You're not afraid of putting it out there, even if people don't like it. That takes guts.”

“Well, I've realized that you can't please everyone all the time.”

“You should have been a shrink, you know that?”

“No, I'm not very patient with people. That's why I work with animals, remember?”

“You've been with me. It's been over a minute, and you haven't thrown me out yet.”

“Cause I'm a sucker. And beyond all reason, I believe everything you've just said.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“You're asking me?”

“Yeah, you're the one with all the insight.”

“Whatever happens now it's up to you, Michael. I’ve already forgiven you. You say you don’t wanna be with me but refuse to leave, and come in here for an encore. What did you expect from me?”

“I guess I keep hoping you’d change your mind about me. It’d be easier to leave if you hated me.”

“Do you want me to lie to you and say that I despise you?”

“No, unless you do.”

“Well, prepare to stay here all night, cause as much as I want to, I'd never hate you. So, it's just a matter of, do you wanna stay or go?”

He takes a deep breath and surrenders, “I… I think I wanna stay. If that’s okay.”

“That’s okay,” she exhales softly, echoing his words.

Neither of them are sure how to go on from there.

They’ve said so much, and yet there is still so much left unsaid. But the fact that he’s stopped letting that inner turmoil of shame and guilt keep him from her is a big step in the right direction. It grounds him, and gives him some peace of mind knowing that she’s looked him in the eye, and said — yes, I know everything about you, and I still want you.

Maya accepts who he is with an open heart, mind, and arms. She doesn’t seem fazed by it because she’s the most powerful force he’s ever encountered. He’s finally willing to give into what was meant to happen all along. He's tired of fighting himself. And if someone like her can find something redeeming about him, maybe he can try to be better for her.

“Can I…” hesitant, he takes a step closer. “Can I kiss you?”

“Only if you want to.”

“I wanna,” he barely mumbles below the sound of a breath. “I shouldn't have pulled away the other night. I understand if you-”

“Shh, just kiss me,” Maya's cuts him out. “Don't overthink it, Berzatto.”

“Okay.”

Drawing a shy smile, his head leans forward, as one of his hands cup her jaw.

“God, forgive me. You're so beautiful, Maybird,” he utters an inch away from her lips before sealing them shut.

This time, he closes his eyes, quiets the voices in his head, the ones that tell him he doesn't deserve her. In between the cracks of the walls he's put up, something else emerges. The relentless desire that comes with the same force of a waterfall. He lets it take the wheel as he savors the thrill that are her plump lips. Tenderly she kisses him back. Links her hands to his neck, begging him to keep kissing her, to consume her, to take her last breath. And he does. He delves deeper. Sends his tongue to soothe that aching that made a home in his chest. He's never felt his heart beat louder than now. It's like he's been dead for years, and she's bringing him alive kiss after kiss after kiss after kiss…

Chapter 6: Life is a bowl of cherries

Like most things in his life, Michael has a tendency to sabotage his relationships right before things start to get serious. He never follows through, a lot of people would agree. Perhaps, it isn't as much of a tendency but a result from his dependency to something else entirely.

The commitment to his work, the pressure to provide for his family has driven him to a very dangerous path. It’s never been more clear as it is now. His eyes are wide open. Forcefully. And for the first time ever, he’s willing to admit he has a problem that he can’t solve on his own.

It’s way past time to face the music, and he’s scared shitless to put that into words. Once the truth comes out, everyone will know how much of a failure he is.

He and Maya still haven't tackled that issue. She's not oblivious to it. She's the first one who saw that something wasn't right. She called him out on it and felt like a dagger laced in shame poked into his heart. Like most addicts, he never thought anyone would notice, he believed he was going so careful. But Maya Silva is not just anyone. She's insightful as she is sharp. She could spot his bullshit from miles away if she wanted to.

Having someone putting that into words was probably one of the hardest truths he had to hear about himself. He didn't realize it was getting out of hand until she verbalized that. They didn't touch it beyond that. While she's not a stranger to challenges, this is out of her depth. As much as it is for him.

While he got rid of a handful of demons, there are still hundreds that haunt him. They make all his fears come true the day after their kiss…

In an attempt to make a better man out of himself for her by breaking the habit, he tries to go just one day without the comfort of reaching to his hidden stash. He manages to go a few hours in the morning without it, but eventually, it becomes harder to go through the day to stay sober. He takes a lower dose, which is an achievement on its own, but it only shows how much he was relying on that.

Michael desperately wants to follow through for once, and makes the executive decision of not using while he’s with her. He’s aware that trading one addiction for another is not the best way to deal with it, but when they're together, it's easy to forget and ignore all those demons making noise in his head. It's when he's alone that he feels that devious hand trying to pull him into the dark well of desperation that his name carved on the walls.

At this moment, there's another different hand, a cold one, holding his own as they walk between rows of Christmas trees while Maya surveys each of them to choose one to bring home.

It’s the first week of December. They’ve easily slipped back to hanging out as much as they used to. And officially, they’ve been out a handful of times since that night he showed up at her door. They've been talking a lot and taking it slow, which feels nice for a change. Sometimes he wishes he could rush through all this part to see what the future holds for them. Thinking about the future in general has always been scary. However, thinking about a future with her gives him just a sliver of hope that things will get better.

Lacing his fingers with hers, he captures the glimpse of a smile as she keeps hauling his ass deeper into the tree farm. They had driven here, an hour out of the city, so she could cut her own tree, cause she read it was better for the environment. There’s no more fight left in him to chase away this overwhelming warmth, and new kind of love that envelops him. If she’d ask him to fly up to Mars, he’d do it.

His other hand is occupied by the end of Coco's leash that walks by his other side. The dog stops as Maya comes to halt to point at the chosen tree.

“This one.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. This one will fit perfectly in the living room without taking too much space.”

“Alright. Let’s haul it out.”

With the help of a saw they carefully cut the trunk at the base and then, aided by one of the farmers, then sleeve it in a net and load it into the truck.

It's a nice drive with his two favorite girls. Coco sits between Maya's feet and props her head on her thigh while she's pampered with lots of caresses and ear scratches. The dog quickly falls asleep like a baby and doesn't open her eyes until the truck has pulled up on the driveway.

They bring Coco inside, unload the tree, and put it on the stand. As Michael busies himself whipping out something for dinner, Maya brings the decorations she bought earlier and starts hanging them on the tree.

It's a pretty damn picture of the two of them, sitting on the couch, sharing food in front of the fire. He wishes he could frame that moment when she glances at him with that vivid glint in her eye that makes his heart melt.

Maya climbs onto his lap after putting the dishes away. Sitting sideways, her head pillows his shoulder, while his arm curls around her waist. One of her hands holds his bearded jaw, having her fingers softly petting his hairs.

“Thanks for helping me today,” she utters, enjoying his embrace and the cozy decorated room.

“Anytime, Maybird,” his palm slides over her legging-covered thigh.

Maya lifts her head and presses her curved lips sweetly on his cheek.

“We should go on a drive sometime again. It was nice.”

“Yeah, it was. Maybe for New Year's.”

“It's a date,” Michael squeezes her knee as her head leans to the side to capture his eyes.

Maya throws one of those disarming smiles that drives completely out of his mind. He holds the back of her head and seizes the temptation of her lips he’s come to know so well in a matter of days. He revels in the way their mouths fit together like two puzzle pieces.

They lose track of time while their tongues swirl slowly to the same cadence, savoring every second of it as if it was the last. Their arms are loosely locked around the other when Maya swifts her position to straddle his thighs instead. Her body dangerously rezones, sitting over his crotch. His adventurous hands travel to her ass, while the lock of their lips remains strong. He can’t help but pull her hips flush against his as the kiss heats up.

They've never gone further than second base until this point. Though they agreed not to rush into anything, tonight might be the day. He wants to. And so does she. But there's still that part of him that's holding him back from crossing that line with her. Maya's special. He's known her for so long, he wouldn't forgive himself from ever hurting her.

“I thought we were taking it slow.” At the most inconvenient moment, he breaks the kiss and takes his hands away from her when his body demands more of her.

“We’re making out… slowly.”

“Not anymore.”

“Do you have a problem with that?” A sly grin flashes across her face as one of her eyebrows arch.

“Don't look at me like that, Maybird.” He throws his head back on the edge of the couch.

“Like what? I’m not doing anything,” she laughs and leans her face closer to his. “Is it that bad to want you? Don’t you want me?”

“Of course I want you, sweetheart.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“The problem is that doing this with you feels pretty fucking weird.”

“Why?”

“Because I knew you as a kid. You were practically a baby when we met.”

“That’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever said, Bear. First, stop thinking about me as a kid. That's creepy. Second, you aren't much older than me, Mister. And third, do I look like a fucking baby to you now? Or… Do I look like a babe?”

“A babe. Definitely a babe,” he emphasizes, lifting his head and running his tongue across his lips, letting his eyes roam the beautiful curves of her body hugged in a tight t-shirt and a pair of leggings.

“So treat me like a babe. Fuck going slow. Kiss me like you mean it, goddammit! Stake your claim. Grab me. Touch me like the world is about to end and the last thing you wanna do is spend your last dying moments with me.” She demands so passionately, it sends a chill through his body.

He swallows, as his eyes become glossy in lust. Michael grabs her chin to keep her face still. Chasing that desire, he ravages her mouth like he’s never done before. Drinking her in, letting his tongue run wild as his hands go down to grip at the curve of her hips. He unabashedly handles her body to press harder on him, over his growing bulge, that makes her moan into his mouth every time it hits the right spot.

Maya is beyond pleased to have him finally give in to that shared crave that only grows bigger by the second. He grows bigger even quicker once he’s jumped over that line.

Without breaking from his eager kiss, Maya stops moving on his lap and sends her hands to undo the fly of his jeans. Beneath the denim fabric, she can tell how his erection strains, begging to be released by the kindness of her hand. He groans a couple of curses into her mouth when she peels back his underwear.

Maya doesn’t have to look down to know how big he is. Her palm curves around his swollen cock. It fills up both her fists as she stacks one on top of the other. There’s some wetness already that she spreads down to the underside that helps her jerk him off nicely.

Michael loses momentarily his ability to breath and parts from her lips to draw some air. He captures her eyes that hold a darker shade as both of her fists tighten around him. After a moment, he glances at her diligent, handy work that might have him come earlier than he’d want to. Michael hasn’t been touched like this in a long time. At least not with someone he had a connection as deep as this.

“Does it feel good?” Asks Maya with a grin splitting her face, as she shifts on his thighs to straddle just one and rub herself against the toned muscles of his leg.

“So fucking good,” he says under his breath as his head falls back, clutching his fingers to her moving waist. “I… fuck… fuck me… Are you riding my leg?”

“Uh-huh. Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell no. That’s…” his breathing keeps faltering as she picks up the pace. “You getting all wet for me?”

“You have no idea, Bear,” she purrs over his lips.

All his blood flows down to fire consuming his center, letting him dangle from one lousy thread.

“Don't have to hold it. It's okay if you wanna come.”

“It's just… I don't want you to think…”

“Shh. There's nothing to prove. Just close your eyes, and relax. Let me give this to you.”

Following her guidance, his mind clears completely as he closes his eyes and stops clenching every muscle of his body to let her bring him to ecstasy. His hips buck up a few times. And in just a few more pumps, his cock twitches in her hold before covering her hands in the warm spill of his orgasm.

Maya’s hips come to a halt. She tenderly kisses his exposed Adam's apple without letting go of his hardness that still throbs for a moment as the orgasm ebbs. Then she wipes her hands on her leggings while his mouth finds hers. He presses a couple of soft kisses at the corner of her mouth as his breathing recovers.

Michael cradles the back of her head and pulls it down to his shoulder. He plays with her hair, while she listens to his heartbeat as it evens.

“I’m gonna make it up to you,” he says under a breath.

“You don’t gotta.”

“I wanna. Just need a sec.”

“Okay.” She smiles to herself, hugging his chest as he descends from his high.

Once his strength returns, he’s seizing her lips again at a gentle pace. His tongue swims in that endless well of affection she offers freely.

When he's ready, he picks Maya up and carries her to the bedroom to finish what she's started. Clothes are quickly discarded in the dim lit room they both painted together. When he frees her from her leggings and underwear, she's still wet.

He's dumbstruck by the beauty of all her, all bare just for him, laying as the most precious offering.

Smiling bashfully, he props one elbow on the bed, and lies by her side. His fingers gently slide across the surface of her inner thigh. Her skin forms goosebumps beneath his palm as they ascend closer to her groin.

Aiming for that sweet spot between her legs, he locks eyes with her and watches her expression as they land on her folds. Drawing a breath, her chest swells as he tenderly craws circles around her clit. The arousal wrapping around his fingers and the sighted moans he coaxes out of her mouth makes his cock harden again.

“A little harder,” she demands between pants, placing her hand on top of his to show him exactly how hard he can go.

“Like that?”

Maya nods and then holds his bearded jaw with both hands, pulling his face closer to capture his mouth, while his fingers move quicker. She jolts at the sensation of two of them suddenly slipping into her opening. He keeps his thumb steady massaging her clit at the same time. The delicious mixture of movement makes her core thread in a tight knot of pleasure that begs to be untied.

“Michael, baby… I'm almost…” His name has never sounded as good as the way she cries to it the closer she gets to the edge.

“I know, sweetheart. Come for me, beautiful.”

His fingers slip in and out gradually faster until her body is left shuddering by the final impact of that sweet orgasm. The soft fabric of her skin buzzes beneath his palm as she rides that wave of pleasure that takes her to a higher plane. All her muscles seize up for a split second, and then her body becomes jelly.

Inhaling a long breath, Maya turns to the side and curls against him, hugging his torso.

They stay in comfortable silence for a long moment, enjoying the calmness of being wrapped around the other.

Maya kisses his neck softly while his fingers run up and down her spine.

“Did I tell you how beautiful you are like this?” He whispers.

“Yeah, I think you did,” her head tilts up to look at him.

One of his fingers draws her jaw, “I mean, you’ve always been stunning, but I’ve never seen you glow like this. It's like staring into the sun.”

“You're so fucking corny.” She smiles shyly before pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “You look different, too. More relaxed.”

“The power of orgasm.”

“That must be it. When was the last time you had sex?” She blurts out, and regrets immediately after seeing his eyes slightly widen. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”

“Sweetheart, you can ask me anything now. I mean, we’re both fucking naked. It can’t get more intimate than this.”

“That’s true.”

“To answer your question… the last time I had sex was a few months ago. It wasn’t anything serious. There was this girl in my building, we used to hang out sometimes. And then… then there was you, and I couldn’t…” he doesn’t have to finish for her to grasp the concept that he couldn’t be with anyone else but her.

“Well… If you’re up for it, we could go all the way.”

“I suppose we could. We’ve come this far… Why stop now, right? It’s the end of the world, after all.”

“Right,” she laughs, pressing her lips to his shoulder.

Feeling more energized, she guides him to lay on his back, stretches his arms above his head while she mounts his hips. Leaning over, she nibbles his bottom lip as her ass rotates over his dick, getting it to become hard-rock again with such little friction.

“Are you clean, you know, STI wise?” she mumbles over his mouth.

“That is the sexiest thing anyone has ever asked me.”

“So, are you?”

“I am. You?”

“Clean and safe, if you’re wondering. That’s sexy to me.”

“Bet it is,” he chuckles, grabbing her ass and pressing her harder against his building erection.

She moves like an enchantress, cursing every inch of his body with her charms to use for her pleasure. He welcomes it. He’s never felt this excited in years, and that’s all she is. Her impulsivity, her passion, her vitality… It's the perfect cocktail. She adds all of her to it, doesn’t leave behind an ounce of anything. It’s all or nothing. That’s why he easily falls in love with her more every day. He wants to drink her all in, absorb every drop until she becomes part of him.

When she sinks onto his cock for the first time, he’s mesmerized by the way she looks at him with nothing but radiant warmth and lust. Her hands brace his chest, as she slowly takes him all the way down. It feels like his world spins on its axis as she experiments with her hips. First, waving gently, then when she’s used to being filled with him, she starts bouncing on top of him.

Nothing ever felt more right than having her like this. Her skin melts beneath his palms, and all he wants to do is explore every corner of her body. She throws her head back and moans at the air as her hips go back to rocking back and forth when they get tired.

Michael slings an arm around her waist, pulls her down against his chest, and gingerly swifts her body around to be on top. His thrusts suddenly come sharp and measured, hitting all the right spots within her tender walls, earning a few good cries mixed with his name. He holds one of her breasts in his palm, as he madly makes love to her. He feels her nails scratching roughly along his back as they both swim closer to the edge. There’s a force taking over his hips that pushes him to his limit as if it was a matter of life or death. It is. At this moment, nothing matters more than chasing that ultimate reward. He makes it his life mission. It consumes everything in the room, makes his whole body tremble in ecstasy as he ascends with her closer to that pinnacle.

He doesn’t stop until she’s left breathless with her body shaking underneath him. And this time, he can hold on for just one more second till she comes apart to let go and have all his seed spilled inside her.

This becomes their most memorable night to date. That room becomes their safe haven to explore and love each other in ways they haven’t done before. They disappear into a daze of sleeping, fucking, and repeat. It becomes primordial and sacred. He finds new ways to worship her body. She finds new ways to reach into his soul, carve herself deeper.

Chapter 7: That's the way the cookie crumbles

Michael is sitting on the couch, absentmindedly surfing between channels on Maya's TV when Coco sprints down the staircase, anxiously whining after hearing a string of loud popping sounds outside. The dog hops onto his lap with her tail between her legs. She lowers her head, tucking it beneath his arm, trying to make herself as small as possible. He glances out the window to see a few kids playing with novelty fireworks across the street.

“Are you scared of fireworks, Coco girl?” He pets her head softly. “Shh, It's okay, baby.”

Maya's out tonight with some of her coworkers she's made friends with, and he's decided to stay with Coco. She doesn't need babysitting, but he likes staying here. To be honest, he's been sleeping at Maya's most nights since they started having sex.

He soothes the dog with lots of cuddles and a couple of treats until the kids go back home and the big scaredy-cat pit bull finally stops trembling.

They both doze off for a while, and he's awakened by the ringtone of his phone when Maya calls him to ask to be picked up. She said she had a few drinks and didn't want to drive. So, he takes Coco with him and drives to a bar that is only a few blocks away from his own apartment.

Maya is more wasted than she sounded on the phone. Her friends are only halfway there. He makes sure that all her friends have someone to give them a ride before taking Maya home. Instead of driving back to Oak Park, he decides to take her to his apartment.

It concerns him to see her in this state. She barely mumbles a word, but he can clearly see that there's something going on that she can't bring herself to say. Michael shouldn't judge. God knows how many times he's drowned his sorrows in a bottle, but this doesn't seem like her at all. She was so excited earlier to go out and now there's nothing but sadness plastered all over her face.

Upon their arrival, she vomits everything she had drank earlier and some more. Michael holds her hair and soothes her back while she leans over the toilet until there's nothing more left in her. He dutifully takes care of Maya and brings her some juice to settle her stomach after getting her to lay down on his bed.

In the morning, he quietly slips out of bed, takes Coco out on a walk and feeds her before Maya even wakes up. By the time they return, Maya is already up. She's taken a shower, and now she's just sitting on the couch, wearing one of his shirts, sulking and eating some crackers she found in the kitchen cabinets.

“Morning, sweetheart.” He kisses the top of her head while Coco goes around the couch, wagging her tail, demanding some attention.

“Hey,” Maya greets back, glancing at him while holding the dog's face and kissing her nose. “Was she good last night?”

“Yeah, she's the best.” Michael sits down on the coffee table and pats the dog's spine as she lays down on the floor. “Did you know she's scared of fireworks?”

“Yeah, she's not a fan.”

Maya tucks a knee to her chest, catching Michael's vexed look that creases his brow as he props his elbows on his knees and tensely links his fingers together.

“What?” She asks dryly.

“I didn't say anything.”

“There's clearly something in your mind. I can tell.”

“Of course you do.”

“C'mon. Out with it, Berzatto. What is it?”

“Nothing. I just… I'm worried about you. You didn't seem like yourself last night.”

“Bear, you don’t have to worry about me. I just took a few more shots than I should have.” She shrugs it off with little importance. “But I'm fine… Well, you know, besides the killing headache and the hangover. I shouldn’t have drank that much.”

“Then, why did you?”

“I don't know… Why does anyone drink at all?” She annoyingly deflects.

“You seemed okay when you called. But when I picked you up… You could barely stand.”

“Look, I'm sorry that I called you. I'll think twice next time.”

“It's not that, sweetheart. I loved that you called… I'm just trying to understand what happened.”

“People drink. Big deal. I went out with some friends and had fun. That's it. Why are you grilling me about this? It's a little hypocritical coming from you, don't you think?”

“I'm not grilling you. I'm trying to figure out what happened. It’s obvious you're trying to hide something.”

“Yeah? Tell that to your stash drawer. You wanna lecture me about drinking? Start explaining why you need that many pills.”

“You went through my drawers?”

“I was looking for a shirt.”

“You know what? It doesn't matter, cause we're not talking about me right now.”

“How convenient. You're the one that has a real problem. I was upset last night and I got wasted. The end. I'm not going to drink tonight or tomorrow or the day after that, and probably it won't happen again, cause I know my limits. Do you know yours?” She jabs sharply, meaner than he's ever heard her.

Michael hangs his head down, shame washing all over him, stares at the floor for a long moment before answering.

“I wasn't trying to start a fight or lecture you. I just wanted to know if there was something bothering you– I guess it was just a matter of time before you found… You're right… I'm… I have a problem. But I don't use when I'm with you… I…”

Maya stands up and faces the window. Looking outside, she comes to realize how tactless that was on her part. Tears slip out of the corner of her eye. She never wanted to confront Michael like this. Let alone let her own insecurities get the best of her.

“I'm sorry. I didn’t mean…” She wipes her tears, and picks up the phone from the table.

She unlocks it and presses play and speaker for him to listen to a voice message she received yesterday. In it, the voice of her sister suggests that Maya should consider not attending Christmas dinner to avoid upsetting their mother like the year before. The message goes on about their-sister-in-law being pregnant, about to give birth around the holidays, and that she doesn’t need that added stress to that night, since they’re the ones hosting this year somewhere in bumfuck, Utah. She babbles for a while about how Maya has made her situation even worse for herself when she decided to move back to Chicago and hide it for months; along with a string of excuses that she's heard many times before.

They've always been subtle with their dismissal, saying it was fine if she had other plans. But that call is the first time they've openly asked her to refrain from attending a family function.

“I got it during dinner and I just… I don’t know, it’s like a switch flipped in my head, and I started throwing back shots to forget… I wasn’t trying to hide it. I just didn’t want to talk about it or think about it right now.” She explains, placing the phone, and then paces the length of the living room a couple of times.

“I get it,” Michael sighs and stands up, running his palm over his beard, putting a stop to her feet.

“I’m sorry that I went through your stuff and that I used that against you… I shouldn’t have. That was a low blow.”

“Guess we're both kinda messed up. I wasn't trying to hide it, either. You already know that I'm fucked up. It's just… We've been in this bubble and I wanted to enjoy that for a little longer before having to deal with all that, y'know?”

“I know,” her hand gently cups his bearded jaw. “When you're ready to talk about it… I'm here. I'm not going anywhere. Bubble or not. I… I've never been happier with anyone, Michael. It might be incredibly naive and idealistic of me to say this, but I feel like if we're honest with each other, there's nothing we can't face.”

“I feel that too, Maybird.”

Michael holds that same hand that's placed over his beard and prints a soft kiss on her palm, tickling her skin.

Then, he releases it and perches his hands on her waist as Maya links her arms around his neck.

“What are you going to do with the whole don't come home for Christmas thing?”

“I don't know. Part of me just wanna show up and ruin their night. But I know if I stay, they'll see that they're just as miserable with or without me. They just need someone to blame for their misfortunes, and I’m it.”

“Hey, maybe you could come have dinner with us like you used to.”

“Christmas at the Berzattos? I'm not sure which one is worse.”

“C'mon, they both suck. It's our first Holiday since we started this, it'd be nice to spend it together, don't you think?”

“I guess… I could think about it.”

[freshbakedbreadstick]

No. 1 Party Anthem - Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader - Chapter One

Past!Mikey Berzatto x F!Reader

Carmy Berzatto x F!Platonic!Reader

Richie Herimovich x F!Platonic!Reader

Summary: You finally grab the bear by its ears and face it head on, despite all the unanswered questions. 

Warnings: All my fics are 18+ regardless of the content. Heavy spoilers. Mentions of self harm, grief, death, mental health issues, strained relationships, smoking.

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: OMG thank you all for all the kind words and love ! ! ! I'm gonna b honest with you all, after i posted the prologue I completely logged out of my account for the week LOL I was SO nervous abt it and so I just left it alone 😭 but I'm back with the first official chapter ! Also, I am opening the taglist for this series, so please let me know if you want to be tagged ! Thank you to one of you lovely readers for asking about that ❤️ your comment was very appreciate bc tbh I completely forgot abt even considering making one 💀 thank u babes ily and I hope you all enjoy !!!

Taglist: @marysucks-blog

PROLOGUE / MASTERLIST

The rumble and honk of a car driving quickly down the street took you out of your thoughts. 

Here you were, once again, on the sidewalk and across the street from The Beef. This time, it was not some odd hour of the night but rather 4 o'clock in the evening. 

After tossing and turning all night long, you rose early that morning much to the insistence of your mom and dad, who were very much eager to get you to reunite with Natalie, with bags under your eyes and stiff joints. You trudged around the house, jumping at every small noise that somewhat resembled the notification sound of your phone, before finally giving up and plopping down on the sofa to send Sugar a text. 

'Hi Sugar, it's me. Nice to talk to you again. I'll swing by The Beef at around 4 if that's okay with you.' 

About 5 minutes later, a loud buzz made you drop a glass of water to the floor.

'Of course! I'm so happy to hear from you! I can't wait (:' 

You could feel a pit forming in your stomach as you read the message. You can practically hear the way her voice lifts in excitement as you read it. To make matters worse, the smiley face felt like it had a mind of its own and it was taunting you. It practically said 'Remember the good days? Remember how close you and Sugar were? Before everything happened?' 

With a shallow breath, you threw your phone onto the nearest soft surface and scooped the broken glass up with your bare hands.  

Your parents fussed around you all afternoon before you left. At first, they said it was to make sure you were okay with going over there but it became pretty clear that they were pretty much just making sure you weren't going to back out. While you understood why they were chasing you around like a chick chased their mother hen, you got tired of it really quickly.

"Mom, I'm serious, I'm okay!" You insisted, pulling your shoe on and pausing at the threshold of the front door. 

"Are you sure? Do you want us to come with you? How about you let us drive you-" 

"I'm fine!! I'm going now!" 

With a sigh, your mother glances at your father before nodding, "Alright honey, be safe." 

With a weak smile, you headed off. 

And now here you were, finding yourself halfway down the street and being honked at by someone in their car. 

Snapping back to the present after replaying your hectic morning, you jump at the realization that you were unconsciously halfway across the street and heading towards The Beef.

"GET OUT THE WAY!" The person in the car yelled, sticking their head out the window. 

You ran to the sidewalk and half slammed your body against the wall, chest heaving. You had no idea what took over you and made you move without thinking but here you are now, in front of the same place you vowed to never be at again after Mikey's death: The Beef.

"Fuck…" you murmured to yourself, trying desperately to catch your breath as you closed your eyes. 

Focusing on the sounds of tires on pavement and rustling leaves on trees, you took a breath. You counted from 1 to 100 and then back to 1 again. You then opened your eyes and counted 5 things you could see, 4 things you could touch…

With a hard swallow, you turned around, ready to walk to the front door now. It was past 4 now but from the messages you got earlier from Sugar, you knew that there was 'no rush' and to just 'come in the front door'. 

"I can do this, I can do this…" you whispered to yourself and lightly jumped in place, hyping yourself up. 

You pushed forward, rounding the corner of the wall and to the front door, when BAM! Some guy just slams into you. 

You fly backward, stumbling as you try your hardest to avoid falling onto the pavement. 

"Watch it, idiot!" Some guy in a high vis vest barks at you before marching away with a wrapped sandwich in his hand. 

You stare, mouth open in silent shock and confusion, unable to respond. If this guy had bumped into you about a year ago, you would have practically beat him up yourself. Mikey would've had to come out of the restaurant and drag you off the guy, laughing and cheering all the way. His strong arms would wrap around you and somehow lift you up and off, voice husky in your ear as he alternates between voicing good humored apologies to the guy who had the misfortune of being an asshole to you and murmuring about how hot you looked while you defended yourself.

But in this moment, all you could do was regain the little confidence you had and go back to the task at hand: walking in. 

You swallow before standing up straight, plastering on a faux confident but cool grin onto your face. With your head held high in a way that you used to do but doesn't feel like you anymore, you jam a fist into your pocket and use your other free hand to push the front door open and waltz in. 

Cooly, you scan the empty restaurant. It seems like the lunch rush was very much over by now and the last customer for a while before the dinner rush had crashed into you and left moments before. So now, it was just you and The Beef. 

"Give me one sec!" A loud and charmingly obnoxious voice yelled from the kitchen. 

Your facade slipped as you heard this voice. Instantly, your shoulders sagged as you let out a quiet but pained laugh under your breath. 

The booming voice of Richie got louder and louder as he came out of the kitchen and to the counter, "How can I help you-" 

He paused. You immediately stood up straight again, a wide and sly but fake grin spreading over your face. 

Richie blinked, frozen. His eyes were wide and mouth had dropped slightly open.

After a couple seconds, the awkwardness started to set in for you, prompting you to speak up, "Jesus, Richie, you look like you've seen a ghost." 

In an instant, Richie snapped back to reality with a grin on his face, "COUSIN!" 

You winced at the volume, apparently not being the only one as you heard a couple muffled groans and protests from the kitchen as well as someone saying "what?!"

Richie threw his arms out, wide, before dropping them and racing around the counter to you. With a laugh, Richie's arms enveloped you, squeezing tight. 

You stiffened up immediately, feeling bad for not reciprocating instantly like you used to do. But whether or not that bothered Richie, you would never know because as fast as he enveloped you in a hug, he pulled away. 

"Cousin, what the hell are you doing this side of the country, huh?!" He grinned and placed his hands on his hips. 

"Oh my gosh!" Another voice said. 

Your head whipped to see Sugar at the doorway to the kitchen. She clutched a clipboard in her arms but as both of your eyes connected, she let it fall to the floor with a clatter. 

You can see her eyes well with tears as she raced around the counter to join you and Richie and as she got closer, she blinked them away. A wary smile appeared on her lips as she stood next to you, making her look a cross between nervous and relieved. 

"Richie, give her some space. Oh my gosh, hi!!" Natalie gasped. 

You winced a bit and smiled, "Hey…" 

You wanted nothing more than to crawl into a hole and stay there forever. 

"Shit cousin, I had no idea you were coming here! If you let us know beforehand, we could've made you a welcome party or, or, or something!" Richie said, ignoring Natalie. 

"How the hell have you been? How was it out west? I heard you got back in town but had no clue you were coming over here to visit!" Richie continued, going on and on and on. 

You stared at him, eyeing the way he looked rugged and much more tired than usual. But Richie was the same old Richie, loud and brash but caring when he wanted to be. 

Your eyes wandered from Richie's frame over to Natalie, who seemed to be analyzing your body silently. Her eyes were filled with worry and her fingers rapidly intertwined with themselves as she gave you a look that meant to say, 'Is this okay? Are you okay?'

You glance back at Richie before your eyes fell behind the two and to the entrance of the kitchen where a crowd had formed. 

And in front of that crowd was Carmy. 

Your shoulders tensed up, visibly enough to make Natalie perk up and whip her head around to see what you were staring at and make Richie go silent. The two glanced at Carmy and, unbeknownst to you, gave him a look of warning. 

Carmy wiped his hands on the towel he had and stared back, silent. His body language was unreadable and you couldn't tell whether or not he was upset at seeing you. Either way, you could feel the hair on the back of your neck stand. 

"Carmy…" you said, voice hoarse. 

You cleared your throat and awkwardly nodded, acknowledging those around him. You recognized a couple faces and others seemed unfamiliar but either way, they all looked at you with curious and cautious eyes. 

After stewing in silence for a bit, Sugar spoke up, "Carmy… say hello". 

Carmy blinked, eyes still set on you making you feel pinned to the spot. You could feel your breakfast swirl in your stomach as his eyes glared into you, analyzing your every move. Finally, he nodded and turned around, making the crowd behind him part like the red sea as he moved back into the kitchen. 

Suddenly, another face appeared in the doorway of the kitchen before yelling out your name excitedly. Fak came racing out of the kitchen, following the same path that Richie and Natalie took, before stopping in front of you.

"Holy shit!," he exclaimed happily, "Your home!" 

Your shoulder sagged. 

Home. 

You were home. 

He giggled to himself, not at all noticing your reaction "I haven't seen you in forever, how are you?" 

"Jesus man, give her some space she just arrived," Richie began, already launching into an argument. 

"What do you mean? I'm perfectly fine!" Fak said, head snapping over to Richie before the two began to bicker. 

Natalie rolled her eyes at them and turned to you, still concerned, "Just ignore them. Are you okay, sweetie?" 

You stood up straight again, wiping the wide eyed expression you didn't even know you had on your face for one with a lazy smile, "Yea, I'm okay." 

She reached her arm out, hesitating for a second to see if you would reject her, before resting her hand on your forearm when you seemed okay with it. She gently ushered you around the bickering men and behind the counter, to the kitchen. The crowd watching dispersed with curious eyes and kind smiles from those you recognized, letting you two pass through. 

As you walked through the kitchen, gulping as your eyes retraced each corner and crevice you had tried to forget about, your eyes stopped briefly to look at Carmy. With his back towards you, he silently chopped some vegetables, seemingly ignoring what was happening around him. 

"Here we are," Sugar said, quietly announcing to you to get your attention. 

You turned and dug your heels into the ground, soles squeaking as you did so. Sugar jumped back and glanced at you. 

"Can we… I'd rather we talk outside." You announce, voice wavering in a way that made your previous confident persona waver. 

Right in front of you stood the door to the office; an office you were very much familiar with as you too had spent many times there. All those memories, all bittersweet at this point, came rushing back; the nights you spent arguing over bills and paperwork with Mikey, the days you came with a bag of donuts from your favorite shop nearby, the intimate moments where your and his lips connected behind the closed door, the moments in which you hid in the office and cried your heart out. 

Sugar noticed the way your eyes had become misty and promptly led you to the back door of the kitchen and to the alleyway.

“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, that's okay. We can talk here.” she said soothingly.

Her voice was so comforting, making you feel nauseous. You hated the way that Sugar would always act very motherly, even when you were all kids. 

With a shaky breath, you nodded and smiled anxiously, “I'm okay Sugar, you don’t need to worry.”

Glancing at you, Sugar smiled softly. But her smile quickly dropped when she scanned your features, taking in your face again. 

“You look,” she began quietly, “You look good.”

You chuckled to yourself, knowing damn well that she was wrong, “Thanks, you too.”

Richie bursts out the back door, with Fak in town, still bickering.

“My God you two, just stop!” Sugar yells, getting the two to finally snap their mouths shut. 

Fak playfully salutes Sugar, a knowing look on his face while Richie rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. 

“Yea whatever. I’m just happy to see you again, cousin.” Richie says, directing his body to you, with a tone of softness in his voice that felt so foreign that it made you shiver. 

“It’s nice to see you too,” you said softly, rubbing your hands on your thighs.

It was silent for a bit as the four of you all glanced at one another, unsure where to start and what to say. Each party had so much they wanted to say to each other at that moment, but you knew that the three people standing before you had the most to say to you. 

Carmy came out the back door, silent and unsurprised to see the four of you glance in his direction. He closed the door behind him and stood off to the side, away from all of you. He then proceeded to take out a pack and light a cigarette, quietly puffing. 

“Cousin, did you even say hello? It’s rude as hell to just ignore her,” Richie said, a bit agitated at his dismissive behavior.

Yet Carmy ignored him, staring out to the side and away from you all, his blue eyes flickering, but refusing to even glance in your direction.

You could feel your eyes prickle and your throat tighten, regretting even showing up. Carmy was the one person you haven't seen the longest and here he was, ignoring you as if you didn’t even exist.

“Hey,” Richie barked, taking you out of your thoughts, “At least look at her!”

Richie began to stomp forward to Carmy, making you and Sugar flinch as you watched. Fak moved forward, reaching out to Richie and mumbling quietly to get him to stop. Right before Richie could grab Carmy by the shoulder, Carmy spoke up.

“I’m glad you're okay.”

Your mouth dried up.

His eyes turned to you and all you could see in them was pained understanding. He knew you weren’t okay; an okay person wouldn’t just pack up and leave the night after her boyfriend’s funeral. But, he saw that you were alive and the fact that you showed up here after so long meant something. 

It meant that now you were okay.

“Thanks Carmy” you said, making everyone’s head turn to you. 

Richie rocked his jaw and nodded silently, stepping back from Carmy. 

The three of them watched as Carmy lifted his box of cigarettes and offered one to you. They then watched as you walked forward, arms that had wrapped around your body falling, to grab one. He fished his worn lighter from his pocket, carefully lighting the cig you held around your lips for you, before pocketing it and leaning back against the wall.

You take a deep drag, letting the nicotine smoke fill your lungs before exhaling. It soothed your nerves, reminding you of the moments that you spent outside with Carmy, avoiding the yells from inside the house during a Berzatto family event. 

Suddenly, a deep funny feeling began to strew about in your belly. It felt odd and you tried to suppress it, but you just couldn’t help it. You barked out a laugh. 

It surprised you and everyone, not at all expecting it. You felt your cheeks heat up, horrified as to why you just laughed. 

You breathed in, only for it to come out as another laugh. Your horror was then replaced with amusement, making you laugh even harder. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all averted their gazes, a mixture of remorse and shame written all over their faces. 

You laughed even harder, slamming your back against the wall before sliding into a crouch. Your body shook so hard as you laughed, barely able to keep the cigarette between your fingers. 

Carmy looked away, an empty look on his face as he too chuckled to himself. 

After laughing so much that your belly began to hurt, you finally spoke up between dissolving giggles, “What the fuck am i even doing here!?”

Natalie turned her back to everyone, clutching her body in her arms. Fak walked forward and gently placed a hand on your shoulder. You didn’t even look at him as he hooked one of his arms under your arm and helped you up from the floor to stand against the wall again. Your knees buckled slightly as you continued giggling and wheezing in an attempt to catch your breath.

Fak stepped back and sighed softly, watching your chest heave as your breathing began to stabilize. 

An uncomfortable silence fell as you caught your breath, leaving the four of you in limbo to listen to a couple cars pass by and the wind blow softly by.

Carmy straightened up, making everyone except Sugar turn to him. He dropped the cigarette he was smoking and crushed it under his shoe. He then reached behind him to untie the knot of his apron and then moved to his neck where he took it off completely. He thrusted it forward, pushing it to you.

“Okay Chef, break is over.” He said. 

You looked over at him, finding no fear or sadness on his face, before nodding and grabbing the apron. He stepped back and turned, moving to open the back door and step inside. 

Sugar, Fak, and Richie all turned to you.

“Break is over,” you repeated and began to tie the apron around yourself before opening the backdoor and walking back inside. 

[bad268]

Ava ❤️

Breaking News Pt. 2 

(Charles Leclerc X Reader, Max Verstappen X Best Friend! Reader)

Fandom: RPF/Formula 1

Requested: Nope (I had an idea, Mr. Krabs)

Warnings: Ava is a fake ex-girlfriend, mentions of cheating, song referenced belongs to Natalie Jane

Pronouns: They/them

W.C. 2108

Chapter Summary: Y/n finds out the truth about Charles and Ava with the help of their "best friend," Max.

As always, my requests are OPEN

MASTERLIST // HITLIST

(^Came from 2 pics on Pinterest)

<- Previous Part

Thursdays were slow for significant others on track since most of the driver’s attention was directed toward the media outlets. This Thursday, Charles and Carlos were filming a couple of challenges for the Ferrari YouTube channel, so they had to leave their phones so as to not disrupt the filming. I was sitting in Charles’ driver's room, trying to write anything to build an album off of. I was feeling particularly cheerful as we were celebrating our six-month anniversary later this week, so I thought that would be the perfect inspiration.

Just as I was getting into a groove, Charles’ phone alerted me with a couple of messages. I leaned over to check who it was. It read from “Ava ❤️” which is a name I did not recognize, but the heart next to her name made me confused. I looked at the messages and became even more confused as everything was in French, but I did recognize pet names. Just as I made the connection, Charles walked through the door, laughing at something Carlos said.

“Hey, love. What are you working on?” He asked, moving past me to grab a water bottle from the fridge.

“Charles, who is Ava? And why is there a red heart next to her name?” I got straight to the point. 

“Did you go through my phone? Do you not trust me?” He got defensive immediately.

“I do trust you, Char,” I sighed, pulling back a little. “It’s just she messaged you, and I saw her name. I just want to know what’s going on.”

“She’s just a friend, don't worry, chérie (darling),” Charles reassured, pulling me into his arms while grabbing his phone from my hands. “Ava’s last name is Hart, so she thought it would be funny to have the emoji. It means nothing.”

So I let it go. 

I did not even think about it again until I was sitting on my best friend’s couch while he played a racing game. I was scrolling through Instagram when a certain picture of Charles and a blonde girl appeared in my feed.

“Hey, Max,” I called to get his attention off the simulator. He turned his head to show he was listening but didn’t stop playing, causing me to chuckle. I shook my head before leaning forward to show him the picture. “Do you know who this is?”

“Isn’t that Ava? Charles’ ex?” He questioned before turning his full attention toward my phone. “Yeah, that’s definitely Ava.”

“Ava Hart?” I asked back, remembering how Charles’ said her last name was Hart, and that was why she had the emoji.

“No, I think it was Ava Small. Might need to fact-check me on that,” He responded before turning his body to face me. “Why do you ask?”

“Max, I think Charles is cheating on me,” I whispered, coming to the realization.

“What?!” Max shouted before taking a step back upon seeing me flinch, taking a breath, and rephrasing, “Sorry, but what makes you say that?”

“He’s so secretive about his phone, and the one time he left it in his room, there was a text message from a contact named Ava with a red heart,” I started. Max began growing angry the more I explained, but I kept going because I needed to get it out. “All of the messages were in French, and I don’t speak French but I do know some affectionate names. Almost every message had mon amour (my love), ma chérie (my darling), or je t’aime (I love you) in it somewhere.” I was word-dumping and losing my breath, but Max just pulled me into a hug in an effort to comfort me. He was running his hands up and down my back as I tried to keep myself from having a panic attack. I pulled back a little bit once I caught my breath enough to continue. “I asked him about the contact because, for all I know, Ava could’ve been a cousin or something. He said she’s a friend and her last name is Hart.”

“That is bullshit,” Max seethed in response.

“That’s what I’m saying,” I chuckled weakly as I looked at the photo again. “And remember when I dyed my hair blonde a few months ago? Like when I first started dating him?” Max nodded in response, already knowing somewhat where this is going. “He asked me to dye my hair blonde. Ava’s blonde. I was just a fucking toy for him.”

“Do not call yourself that,” Max pressed immediately. He placed his hands on my face to make me look up at him as a few angry tears escaped my eyes. “Schat (darling), do not waste your tears on that fucking idiot. Do you hear me?”

“Ja (yes),” I whispered, struggling to regulate my breathing. “It’s just…did I do something wrong-”

“No,” he interrupted quickly, “don’t think like that. You are not to blame for his poor life choices.”

“Did he lie the whole time about loving me?” I started spiraling as my breathing picked up and my face began heating up. Max sighed but decided that I needed to get this out. “He always said shit about how I should change my hair, change my style, change my personality. All the while he was fucking his ex behind my back-”

“We don’t know that yet,” Max quickly threw in his two cents.

“Oh, if you saw the messages, you would come to the same conclusion, Maxie,” I fumed. I threw my head back, causing Max’s hands to drop from my face to rest on my shoulders. “I should’ve listened to you. You said that he was no good, but I wanted to see the good in him. I’m so sorry Maxie.”

“Don’t ever fucking apologize to me about that,” He whispered, pulling me into another hug. “You just want to see the best in everyone, and it’s admirable. But sometimes, you can’t help everyone.”

“It hurts, Maxie,” I cried into his chest. “Why does it hurt so much if I was never happy?”

“It’s because you care, Y/n/n,” He comforted. “It’s because you care.”

The moment was destroyed by the shrill ringing of my phone. I groan as I reach over, keeping one arm around Max, and check to see who is calling. His ears must have been ringing because it was Charles.

“Hi Charlie,” I greeted with a tight smile even though he couldn't see me as I leaned back into Max’s chest. Max gave me a tight squeeze as he moved his hand along my arm. “What’s up?”

“Where are you?” He sounded angry. Max’s face hardened hearing his on-track rival’s voice through the speaker. “You turned your location off.”

“First of all, I never had my location on, Charles,” I stated growing angry as well. “Secondly, I’m at my best friend’s house.”

“I told you not to go there,” He snapped.

“I’m not allowed? Who are you? My parent?” I snapped right back, not giving him enough time to answer. “No, you’re not, so stop acting like it. It was my off day, I told you this weeks ago, and you decided to go out.” I decided this would be a great opportunity to turn the tables, “What were you doing?”

“I was karting with Pierre, I told you this morning,” He responded. I started laughing immediately. He had been caught. “What’s so funny?”

“Pierre called me earlier to help set up a surprise date for Kika,” I said in disbelief. “He flew out at 10 this morning.”

“We went before then,” He covered quickly. “I left at 6, remember?”

“Oh, then what else did you do?” I replied sarcastically.

“Media with Carlos,” He responded exasperated. “You’re avoiding the real question. Why are you at his house?”

“Because I didn’t want to stay alone in our house,” I said in disbelief. “Did you really expect me to waste my one day off?”

“No, but I did expect you to respect my boundaries when it came to Max,” He shouted. “Come home, now.” With that, he hung up.

“Don’t even think about it,” Max comforted quietly. “What do you want to do?”

“Get this over with,” I sighed. “Can you come with me? Just hang out outside or in the car just in case it goes wrong?”

“Always, liefde (love).”

~

“Charles, I need you to be honest with me now,” I said as soon as I walked through the door. Max drove me back and was sitting in the car a couple of houses down. My phone in my pocket had an ongoing call with Max in case I said the safe word, and if I did, he would come into the house. “Why did you lie?”

“What did I lie about? You were the one that went to Max’s house when I told you that I don’t want you near him!” He shouted, stepping closer to me. 

“Ava Small,” was all I needed to say and he went silent. “Oh, did you think I wouldn’t find out? Maybe it was the fact that you asked me to dye my hair blonde as soon as we got together. Maybe it was the messages you sent her, and the affectionate names you called her-”

“I-” he tried to interrupt.

“Maybe it was the fact that you lied about seeing Pierre and Carlos yesterday because Pierre is in Milton Keynes with Kika and Carlos is in Spain with Isa!” I yelled, taking a step toward him with every point I made until I was directly in front of him. I took a deep breath before gritting my teeth as I tried to make my next point as calm as possible, “So yes, Charles. You lied. You are a hypocrite for being upset about me going to see my best friend who I have known since I was five. You are sorely mistaken if you think I’m going to stay with you after this.”

“So this is it? We’re done?” He said, a little too enthusiastically. I just nodded, not feeling like saying anything else to him. “I fly out for the next race tomorrow if you want to pick up your stuff. Just leave the key on the counter.”

“I work tomorrow,” I deadpanned, shaking my head as I started backing up toward our room to grab a few things right now. “I'll text you when I have my next day off. Just plan on not being here when that happens.” We both split off, me going toward our bedroom and Charles going to the backyard. I walked into the room, immediately grabbing a backpack and suitcase, and I just started throwing anything and everything I could fit into them. In the silence, I heard muffled words, and I remembered that Max was still on the phone. “Hey, I’m packing. I’ll be out in a second.”

“Do you want some help?” He immediately offered.

“Please, if you don’t mind,” I answered.

“Always, I have a backpack in here too,” he replied, and there was some rustling from the other end as he was probably emptying out the bag. “On my way in.”

It didn't take long for Max to come in, and start throwing things haphazardly into the bag as well. I began laughing at the absurdity of the situation. I just broke up with my boyfriend and I feel alive. I don’t feel upset in the slightest. How could I when I have Max by my side?

Like a switch, it was almost like I saw him in a new light. I would not be upset if Max, my best friend, were to become something more. Maybe that’s something I could explore at a later time.

“Lost in your thoughts again?” Max chuckled, coming up to my side. The suitcase and backpacks were already filled and zipped. “You ready to go?”

“Actually before that,” I grabbed his arm to pull him into a tight hug. He laughed lightly before hugging me back. I pulled back quickly, still keeping him in my arms, as I leaned up and placed a small kiss on his lips. Max froze for a second, so I tried to pull away, but he moved his hands to cup my face, deepening the kiss. When we did pull away, we were both out of breath. I gazed into his bright blue eyes before hiding bashfully in his chest and he was already staring at me. “Can we get out of here?”

“Let’s go home,” he rasped, keeping his hand in mine as he grabbed a backpack and the suitcase while I shouldered the other backpack and led us out of my cheating ex-boyfriend’s house.

~~~

Next Part ->

~~~~~

© BAD268 2023. DO NOT REPOST WITHOUT PERMISSION.

[melswifeasf]

Safest in your arms pt 1

|| series page || next chapter ||

Pairing: Georgia Miller x Fem!OC

Summary: A blonde woman moved in across the street, little did Samantha know she’d be turning her life upside down.

Warnings: (18+) minors DNI cursing, drug use. age gap relationships (18 and 30) grooming.

Notes: welcome to my new series! i’m really excited to write this:)

being adopted and hispanic in a small town like Wellsbury was rather lonely.

at least that's how Samantha always felt. she had never really felt like she fit in with her siblings or in her family, really. Ellen and Clint had problems getting pregnant early into their marriage, in fact they thought there was no hope so they adopted Samantha as a newborn. then two years later Ellen ended up pregnant. it was a miracle, a happy miracle. Samantha would have siblings and that's all the Baker parents really wanted.

growing up Samantha was alone most of the time, she went a school with mostly white people, only a handful of kids that could relate to Samantha. thankfully that all changed once she started middle school, she had met the twins, Oliver and Nia first during the first day of sixth grade. Samantha was going to sit alone like usual but Oliver saw her and sat at her table no questions asked. Nia followed after her brother and soon they became best friends. Mathew came into their lives only a couple of months later during their gym class. he was considered popular, he even played on the football and basketball team but even then he chose to hang out with the three best friends. it wasn't hard to understand why, they all had one thing in common; being outsiders.

the four became inseparable, even when Oliver joined the football team or when Nia joined cheer or even when they all started high school. it was as if they were a small family. they fought sometimes, like normal friends do but it never escalated into anything serious.

it was freshman year when Natalie and Jade joined their friend group. Oliver had a crush on Natalie so he asked her out and the group accepted her without much thought, Oliver seemed to really like her so they didn't find a reason to give her or him a hard time. they had met Nicole one day when they were at the skate park hanging out, she had approached them speaking to Samantha in particular and from then on she seemed to linger with them more and more to the point in which she just hung out with them everyday.

Oliver and Natalie dated most of their high school years, they broke up briefly during their junior year which wasn't surprising. junior year was known for being the most academically challenging. Oliver had practice along with keeping up with his AP classes and Natalie had an after school job so they didn't have much time to hang out. regardless they made it work and got back together just four months later.

junior year was also the year Max and Marcus started high school. Samantha didn't love it, especially considering Max would ask her for advice literally every second of the day or include herself in the friend group even though she most definitely was not. it didn't last long though, her Abby and Norah soon blended in and left Samantha and her friends alone. thank god.

the six teens were hanging out in Samanthas room the day before the first day of school. Oliver was sitting on the floor with Natalie beside him whilst Nia was on Samanthas beanbag and Jade was on the bed beside the shorter girl. Mathew was on his way and they were all waiting for him to bring the alcohol. initially they planned to smoke but Ellen had said Samantha couldn't go out since she started school the next day. they wouldn't stupid enough to do it inside though, the smell would be too obvious and Samantha did not want her parents image as a perfect child to be ruined.

Natalie giggled as Oliver kissed her neck making Samanthas nose scrunch in disgust, "can you guys please stop" she groaned and threw her body back on the bed. Oliver chuckled with his arm thrown around his girlfriends shoulder whilst the blonde stuck her tongue out at Samantha.

"suck my dick. you're just mad that you're still single" Natalie smirked.

Samantha rolled her eyes, she turned her head to see Jade looking down at her with an amused smile. the shorter girl smiled back and moved her body closer to Jade so she could rest her head on the girls lap. immediately after Jades hands began to softly comb her hair.

"yeah. why are you still single? arent half the girls at school in love with you or something?" Nia asked and narrowed her eyes in confusion.

Samantha scoffed, "please like that matters. Maxine would kill me if i got a girlfriend" she rolled her eyes with a huff.

Nia mimicked her actions, "are you serious? don't you get tired of having to put your life on pause because of her? i mean didn't she pretty much welcome herself into our group and when i asked you to join cheer you said no because 'Maxine thinks cheer is a cliche for mean girls' or whatever" she said holding her hands up in quotes.

Samantha could hear her friends chuckle at Nias words, "it's not like that. i just don't want her to feel left out, okay?" she said feeling a little annoyed by their comments now. sure, Maxine could be a lot but she was her sister and as the older child she felt like she had a responsibility to protect her sisters feelings.

"fine if you say so" Nia said holding her hands up.

it was Jade who spoke next, "what about you Nia? excited for Mathew to come over?" she said wiggling her brows in a suggestive manner earning laughs from the other two girls in the room.

Oliver looked at them confused, "Mathew? why would you be excited about him?"

Samantha glanced at Nia who was looking at her in warning. "it's nothing" she muttered lowly to try and cover for her best friend.

Jade laughed, "yeah nothing at all" she added.

Oliver didn't seem to be buying it as he glanced at each girl still obviously confused by Jades comment. thankfully the door opened to reveal the subject of their conversation with a huge smirk on his lips.

“why wasn't i aware of the smoke show moving across the street?" he said immediately moving across the room and toward the window. he moved the curtain to the side and looked outside.

"what are you talking about?" Samantha asked confused and began to sit up from Jades lap. Nia turned her body toward the window as well to look out of it, her eyes widening.

"holy shit, she's hot"

Samantha didn't waste another second and jumped up from the bed, she almost tripped on her own feet as she shoved Mathew out of the way making the boy groan and hold his stomach.

"shit girl, chill. she's not going anywhere" he joked making Samantha roll her eyes and give him the finger. the raven haired girl could faintly hear her mother yelling at her brother but she didn't much bother listening to whatever it is she was lecturing him on. it was the same story everyday with him.

her eyes roamed the street to try and find the woman Matthew was talking about. she didn't have to search for long as her eyes landed on the blonde woman in a yellow top with jean shorts on. she had a bandana to top it all off and she looked hot as hell.

"close your mouth, you're drooling" Nia said and Samantha didn't have to look at her to know she was smirking.

"fuck you" the short girl responded.

"Samantha, i made cookies!" a loud voice called from downstairs making all the teens jump up and start rushing out of the room.

"move your ass!" she heard Oliver say most likely to Matthew as they shoved one another to get downstairs first.

Samantha was about to turn around and leave when the blonde woman grabbed a box from her trunk and began to walk to her house. she was beautiful, really. her hips swayed naturally and everything about her was screaming Samanthas name. until the blonde stopped abruptly and turned her head, her eyes roamed the house until they landed on the window the young girl was currently looking through. any normal person would've backed away from the window and walked away but Samantha didn't. she felt like she was in a trance. instead she kept her eyes locked on the blonde, intently watching every emotion swirling behind her eyes. it was hard to read her though.

the blondes lips quirked into a small almost missable smile but Samantha caught it. their staring contest lasted just a second longer before the blonde turned back around and continued walking into the home.

a blaring alarm was what woke the short girl up from her deep slumber. a loud groan echoed throughout her room as she hit her hand against the pillow beside her. black hair was sprawled on the pillow underneath her and her face was smudged into the pillow, some strands of hair resting on her face. she was surprised she wasn't woken by her parents instead of the horrid noise coming from her phone. she reached over toward her nightstand where she finally found her phone and slapped it until the noise finally stopped.

it took her a couple of minutes to actually wake up. she wanted to skip school, it was the first day and most teachers just went over the syllabus or made them introduce themselves to the class as if they weren't already seniors. she only had half days, taking all AP classes when she was in her junior year paid off. so enduring three hours of school shouldn't be that bad.

the raven haired girl got out of bed lazily, her feet dragging against the ground as she walked to her dresser to choose an outfit for the day. a pair of light blue jeans and a white tube top. she'd take a sweater with her just in case she gets dress coded. her room was slightly messy from the day before, they all got a little buzzed and ended up watching a movie before it got dark and Ellen told them they needed to get home.

the white duvet on the bed was neatly made and sitting under three pillow. there was a black nightstand on the left side of the room that held a  picture of her and her friends during their junior prom. her walls were painted dark gray with LED lights along with posters of movies she liked. she had a dark blue beanbag near the window and across her bed was her dresser with a television on top. she even had a desk pressed against the left side of her room among that there was small tokens of her, like the plant on her desk, the pictures of her and the people she loved, even the mini figures of characters from her favorite movies.

once she was completely dressed with her hair curled and makeup ready she went downstairs and was met with Max and Marcus arguing about who knows what. it was like that almost every morning and at a certain point Samantha just learned to not care.

"good morning" Ellen said with a smile.

"good morning" Samantha signed with a slight smile.

"want me to make you chocolate chip pancakes?" she asked as she held up the spatula in her hand.

Samantha shook her head, "kinda in a rush. i have to pick up Jade" she said as she grabbed piece of pancake already cut up form Marcus's plate and ate it.

he looked at her with a bored expression to which she winked, "what? i'll consider that my pay for driving you around all summer" she said with a shrug.

he gave her an annoyed smile and looked back down at his food, "can we stop by blue farm on the way?" Max asked her sister.

"nope"

"what?! why not?"

"because i am not paying for your caffeine, i don't need you freaking out because i'm going five over the speed limit again" she said.

Marcus chuckled making Max groan in annoyance.

"mom, tell Samantha to take me to blue farm"

Ellen shook her head, "her car, her rules" she shrugged.

Maxine huffed in annoyance once more and Samantha shot her a cocky smile. once she drank all of her orange juice and ate half of Marcus's food, she grabbed her backpack and kissed her fathers cheek in goodbye. "let's go chums" she said as she walked toward her mom to give her a kiss goodbye as well. Ellen smiled in appreciation and watched as her daughter walked to the front door with marching steps.

she had always been the more responsible out of the three. being mexican meant she didn't get a lot of the opportunities that her siblings could have, that meant she had to get a job at blue farm since she was a freshman, had to take the most advanced classes and even join a lot of extracurricular activities. she even bought her car with her own money - although her parents pitched in for the down payment she had to pay every single bill from that day on.

the girl got inside her white Camry with her siblings behind her, as Marcus was about to get in the passenger side she clicked her tongue with a shake of her head. "nope, you know the rules. in the back, i don't need your sister ripping Jades head off" it wasn't much of a surprise that Jade and Max didn't get along, they were slightly alike yet completely different. Max thought Jade was a bitch and Jade thought Max was too loud and possessive over Samantha which meant Samantha did everything possible to keep them as far away from each other as possible.

"cant i just get in the back once we pick her up?" Marcus asked slightly annoyed.

Samantha sighed, "fine. whatever. just get in" she said waving him inside. he smiled in triumph and got inside the car like she had said. "seatbelts" she turned to look at each of them to make sure they were buckled in before finally backing out of the driveway.

the ride to school from Jades house was a little awkward, Max kept talking about how she was crush sophomore year and interrupting Samantha and Jades conversation every other second.

the shorter girl shot Jade an apologetic smile but she just waved her off, she already knew how Max was and after four years she was used to it. once they pulled into the parking lot Samantha got out with her backpack slung over one shoulder.

"later losers" she said to her siblings as she walked alongside Jade.

"i know you're gonna hate me but your sister is a bitch" Jade muttered with an eye roll.

Samantha laughed, "yeah she is and you know you're the only person i'll let say anything about her"

Jade smirked, "cause i'm your favorite?" she asked and fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously.

the shorter girl shook her head, "whatever" she muttered shoving her softly. Jade laughed loudly as they approached the other three teens who were sitting at their usual spot. "sup losers" she saluted them as she sat down on Nias lap who was sitting on the couch. the curly haired girl wrapped her arms around her best friend and placed her chin on her shoulder.

"how was it?" Natalie asked Jade who shrugged.

"like always, didn't let me get a word out" she said making everyone chuckle.

they soon fell into a conversation that didn't last long considering they all had to get to class.

"i have calc and AP Lit after" Samantha announced as she stood from Nias lap.

"fuck, isn't it exhausting being little miss perfect?" Matthew asked with an amused smile.

Samantha looked at him with a neutral expression, "isn't it exhausting acting like a slutty jock?"

he laughed holding his hands up, "damn. you're breaking my heart here, Sammy" he joked making her roll her eyes.

"yeah, yeah. save the dramatics for Lauren. where is she anyway?"

"we broke up" he shrugged.

everyone stopped walking and turned to look at the boy in slight surprise, "seriously?" Jade asked.

"yeah" Matthew shrugged once more with his hands in his front jean pockets, "she was bitching about how i don't have enough time for her so i figured it's better to call it quits now. she was only supposed to keep me company for the summer anyway" he said with a smirk.

Samantha groaned, "oh my god, you are such a fuck boy it physically hurts to be around you"

"what? my parents are divorced and i went through emotional trauma and-"

"oh my god, shut up!" Jade exclaimed quickly earning laughs from everyone including Matthew.

"you know i'm fucking with you guys"

"yeah super solid joke, it isn't five years reused or anything" Natalie shot back making Oliver laugh.

"god i love you" he admitted and pulled her in closer as he had his arm wrapped around her shoulder.

Jade made a gagging noise, "please leave and never come back" 

"gladly" Oliver said happily. he dragged his girlfriend with him into his next class.

"relationships are gross" Samantha grimaced.

"please, i live with him and they don't know what being fucking quiet is so if anyone has a right to complain here it's me" Nia said with a grimace.

Samantha and Jade laugh at her whilst Matthew slings his arm over her shoulder, "don't worry, i can keep you company" he said shooting her a wink.

anyone else would've missed the look on Nias face but Samantha didn't, the girl had a slight blush coating her cheeks and her step faltered for just a second before she continued like normal. soon after she shoved the boy off of her, "please, you would be my last option. after like - Marcus"

"absolutely not!"

three hours later Samantha and the five teens were sitting at a table in blue farm. Samantha and Nia were the only ones with half days but the rest decided to just skip the rest of the day, it's not like there was anything important anyway.

everything was going great, they were all talking like usual when a certain blonde walked in and everyone went quiet. in fact they didn't do much talking after that but Natalie commented on how obvious they were being so they tried to act as if they were making conversation. they all glanced at the blondes table as she talked to Paul and even after he left.

"i swear you guys are staring like some kind of stalkers" Natalie said in a hushed tone leaning toward the middle of the table.

"she's hot" Matthew shrugged.

Samantha was trying to be more discreet. she sipped on her coffee and listened to Matthew and Natalie argue back and forth.

the young girl was glancing at the blonde from the corner of her eye every couple of seconds, that's when she noticed the blonde woman stand from her table and approach them.

Samantha tried hush them but they weren't listening, up until the woman was standing at their table. "hello" she said a very strong country accent dripping in her voice that made the young girl feel queasy.

she had on a pink dress that highlighted all her curves and pushed her breasts up. her hair was down and she was holding a bag in one hand. Samantha's mind went blank at the sight.

"uh hey" Jade said with a slight wave.

the woman looked around the table until her eyes landed on Samantha, "i moved in just across the street from you" she said directing her words at Samantha.

the young girl gulped before nodding, "yeah." she said dumbly. she was never really the type to be left speechless, in fact it was always the other way around but somehow with this unnamed woman she couldn't come up with a single coherent thought.

"Georgia Miller" she smiled with her perfect teeth and held her hand out. they all glanced at each other then looked at Samantha in anticipation.

the girl smiled, "Samantha Baker but i assume you already know that" she chuckled softly as she shook Georgia's hand.

"your mom is so kind, she brought cookies over" she said happily.

"oh, her cookies are to die for" Oliver said making everyone look at him including Georgia. he didn't seem to care that he said his thought out loud.

"i can second that" Georgia said, "not to be.. that adult but shouldn't you guys be at school?" she asked looking around the table again.

"i have half days" Samantha said quickly, cursing at herself silently for answering so quickly.

"me too" Nia responded.

"and we're just getting lunch, we'll be back once we're done. right guys?" Jade asked looking at her friends with a slightly tightened jaw. they all nodded quickly.

"yeah, yeah. of course. we're very responsible" Oliver said with a charming smile.

Georgia seemed amused by all of them as she nodded, "okay well i'll be leaving you guys to it" she said, "have a nice rest of your day" she finished glancing at them all once more. and yet again her eyes landed on Samantha for just a second longer. soon after the blonde put on her sunglasses and walked out of the restaurant with a slight sway of her hips.

"holy shit" Matthew said practically reading Samanthas thoughts.

"she's hot as hell" Nia said breathily.

"how is it you check out girls more than your brother does?" Jade asked.

Nia shrugged with a smirk, "i actually have good taste" she said looking at Natalie who rolled her eyes and lifted her middle finger at her.

"fuck off"

"my eyes are simply captivated by this beauty right here" Oliver shrugged and pecked his girlfriends cheek.

"gross" Samantha said with a slight smile.

if only either of them noticed the look of longing in the girls eyes.

after blue farm they all went to the store to buy snacks and then parked outside of an abandoned building to smoke. Samantha opted out of it for the time being, she had to go home and confront her mom and she had already seen the way she reacted with Marcus and did not need that kind of weight on her. once school was officially released she said her goodbyes - much to everyone's disappointment who still wanted to hang out but she had to pick up Marcus from school. Max was already home, she had texted her saying she skipped after lunch.

much to Samantha's surprise they all decided to just hang out at her house. everyone was there except for Oliver who had practice and Natalie. the two worked at blue farm but Samantha wasn't scheduled in for the day. they usually had the same schedule but Joe thought they distracted each other too much so he made sure their work times didn't align all that often. unfortunately.

they were all outside, Samantha didn't feel like spending another day cooped up in her room so she decided to just stay outside instead. she was on the hood of her car with Jade beside her whilst the other two were standing to the side.

"there's gonna be a party Friday" Matthew said once he blew out the smoke out of his mouth. Ellen didn't have much of a problem that her daughter vaped, of course she didn't love it but she was eighteen and she couldn't really control that part. although Samantha always made sure to never do it in front of her or make it obvious that she was doing it.

"already?" Samantha asked confused.

"what do you mean?" Matthew chuckled, "it's the back to school party, Tyler is hosting" he says referring to one of the guys on the football team.

"hell fucking yeah, he always has the best parties" Nia smirked and snatched the vape out of Matthews hand to take a hit.

"i charge for every hit y'know" he says looking at her. Nia rolled her eyes.

"oh yeah? how's that?"

"i wouldn't mind a kiss" he shrugged innocently making Nia snort out a laugh.

"hilarious. really"

Samantha laughed at them along with Jade. the shorter girl had one leg resting on top of Jades with her head on the girls shoulder. "im assuming your going then?" Samantha asked Matthew who quickly looked away from Nia and at her.

"of course. i can't miss out on the first party of the year" he said with his usual smirk, he and Nia had a respectable space between them but every so often Samantha could see both of them inching just a millimeter closer. it was cute how oblivious they both were.

"Oliver and Natalie are probably going so count me in. just please don't let me do shots like last time" Nia said in a desperate tone.

the two girls chuckled at her whilst Matthews smirk widened. "i can take care of you"

Nia laughed, "right. sure. maybe i'll wake up in the bathroom floor and see you hooking up with some other girl in my room again"

Matthews smirk twitched, "that was one time and  i said i was worry" he said and even though he was trying to sound playful it was obvious he truly felt bad about it.

Nia chuckled, "yeah okay"

Jade glanced between them, the tension so strong it was starting to suffocate her so she turned to Samantha, "are you going?" she asked.

Samantha shrugged, "maybe. i have to ask but she'll probably say yes. i'll just need a ride" she said knowing that was one of the only rules Ellen had set when she started going to parties. she knew her daughter would drink and she'd rather be aware of it then the fact being hidden from her so she just always made sure Samantha wasn't the one driving.

"i'll drive. Oliver and Natalie will probably ditch me either way" she rolled her eyes. Samantha smiled. she had been ditched by them as well, having to find a ride home from someone she'd rather not think about.

"cool then yeah i'll go" Samantha nodded.

Matthew cheered softly knowing he wouldn't be having to venture yet another party alone. it wasn't really anyone's fault, he seemed to want to go to one every weekend and they all were busy. considering his parents were divorced he had the benefit of their guilt on his side so he didn't have to get a job or do anything other than the bare minimum. he even got a black mustang for his sixteenth birthday.

Marcus had joined them a little later as he began to clean his bike. Samantha thought it was pointless that he got one, he couldn't ride it for another couple of months and she knew their mom wouldn't be all that in favor of him riding it all that often.

they were talking calmly until a girl with curly brown hair walked out of their house. Marcus stood up from cleaning his bike and said something but Samantha want entirely listening. she wondered who the girl was, though.

she saw the teen get on the bike and put on the helmet, she was slightly confused but then assumed she was just trying to show off to Marcus. she knew her brother could be an asshole and for some reason girls really loved that. but she was wrong seeing at the teen turned the key to start the bike and soon drove off.

"shit" Samantha muttered as she stood from her car and saw Marcus tell the teen to stop and come back but it was to no use. Matthew stopped talking to see what she was talking about and by the time he did the curly brunette was back on their driveway. she took off her helmet and got off, her body turned and she grabbed Marcus by the shoulders and leaned in to kiss him.

"damn" Matthew said amused, all of them now forgetting whatever it was they were talking about as they watched the scene unfold before them. the kiss looked awkward and weird and it made Samantha laugh along with her friends.

Matthew couldn't cover his amusement so he held his fist up to his mouth to try and contain his laughter. then a car pulled up making Samantha turn to it. shit.

Padma said something to Marcus and he immediately turned around to walk to the car. Samantha knew all about them hooking up and in her opinion Padma deserved better than an emotionally unavailable fifteen year old. they all watched as Ginny watched them drive off very obviously embarrassed by her previous actions.

"bold move Maxine's friend" Matthew called out obviously having heard what Marcus had told Padma just seconds before. the brunette blushed pink and began to walk away. she saw her walk toward Georgias house. huh. could she be her daughter? Georgia looked way too young to have a fifteen year old but then again she could've been a teen mom.

once the brunette was out of sight Matthew began to laugh even louder making Samantha turn and smack his arm. "stop being an asshole!"

"hey!" he laughed, "you've got to admit that was funny" he said his laughter still not dying down.

a small smirk formed on Samanthas lips, maybe he was right. Nia and Jade broke into a fit of laughter too which a wave of laughter escaped her lips as much as she tried to fight it. she just hoped that girl wouldn't cause problems in Marcus's life, he already had to go through enough shit already.

once the sun had set everyone except for Jade went home. Samantha was the one who had to take her home and she didn't feel like being without the girl so she told her to stay for dinner instead. Ellen loved that. Jade was always extremely respectful toward her and seemed to be the closest to Samantha aside from Nia.

after dinner Samantha drove her home, they stayed in the car talking for an hour before Ellen told her it was late and she should start heading home. the girl did so, even watched a movie with her parents before saying she was going to bed. of course she wasn't, she just had to wait until it was after one before she could sneak out and smoke. her mom never really suspected her daughter smoked weed and she'd never been caught, even by her siblings. she made sure to keep her secrets hidden. that was the point of a secret after all.

the raven haired girl already had a blunt rolled so she climbed down from her window and sat behind her car where no one could see her. she took her lighter out of her pocket and flicked it on. once it was lit she inhaled deeply, leaving it for a couple of seconds then exhaled. a wave of relief hit her at the feeling. the girl laid her head back against the white car, her arm was on top of her knee whilst the blunt was held with her thumb and pointer finger.

the neighborhood was quiet to no one's surprise, she lived in a rather wealthy side of town so it made sense that there wouldn't be crime or people on the streets. it was almost depressing how boring everything around her was. only the crickets could be heard and occasionally a vehicle or two would drive by. the only thing accompanying her was the starlit sky and the full moon.

or so she thought. her eyes landed on the house across the street. it was normal, just like any other house in the neighborhood. the porch light was on, Georgia's car was parked in the driveway and it seemed quiet. just like a basic suburban home. but it wasn't just a basic suburban home because this home had a blonde woman sitting on the balcony that was on the side of the house. the woman looked to be drinking a glass of red wine and she was staring at Samantha intently.

it was dark so Samantha couldn't really make out what she was wearing but she could feel her eyes on her. she wasn't expecting much so she just sent the blonde a smile, although she wasn't all that sure if she could even see her. it was hard to make out but once she narrowed her eyes she saw the blonde motioning her over. Samantha was confused, was she imagining this? she debated on if she should go over, she reeked of weed and she's sure Georgia saw her smoking but she didn't seem like a snitch. at least that's what she hoped. maybe going over and asking her to keep what she just saw on the low wouldn't hurt.

the raven girl put out the blunt and stood, she was a little high, just enough to feel fuzzy but not enough to actually feel it. she dusted her silk shorts and put her hands in her gray sweater. she was wearing black silk shorts that didn't exactly like hide much but she wasn't exactly expecting to have eyes on her, especially not her hot neighbor. she was only wearing a tank top so she decided to throw on of Marcus's sweaters on that for the record it looked like it was drowning her.

she made sure to look both sides before crossing the road, it was pointless considering it was the middle of the night but she did not want to die tonight. once she reached the blondes home she looked up as the blonde looked down at her. "hey stranger" she said with a smile.

Samantha smiled back, "hey" she responds. the blonde looked at the shorter girl slightly amused as she looked at the girl up and down. the action alone was making the raven haired girl grow nervous. she cleared her throat,  "you didn't see anything.. right?" she asked extremely nervous now.

Georgia laughed, "oh, you mean the weed you were just smoking?" she asked with a very cocky smirk. Samantha was shifting from one foot to another and she scratched the back of her neck nervously. the blonde woman seemed to find pity on the girl as she waved her off, "i'm kidding of course."

a sigh of relief left the girls lips, "cool so you like, won't tell my mom or anything?" she asked hopeful.

there was a glint in the blondes eye that made Samantha feel even more nervous if that was even possible. "on one condition" Georgia said making Samantha raise a questioning brow. "share" she said simply.

Samantha was confused as hell by her comment. did she hear her correctly? she wanted her to share? "share?" she chuckled nervously.

Georgia simply looked at the girls right pocket that her hand was in and she was holding her blunt. the young girl finally cracked a smile, "fine" she shrugged. if she had to share her drugs to not get in trouble then that's fine with her. the blonde motioned to the tree making the shorter girl look at her confused.

"what? want to go through the front door instead?" she asked with a raised brow. Samantha glanced at the front of the house, contemplating if she should just go through the front door or not. chances are she'd end up making too much noise and wake her daughter up, not something she needs. she sighed heavily and took her hands out of her pockets.

"if i fall please tell my mom you coaxed me into smoking with you" Samantha said as she began to climb the tree. a beautiful laugh echoed throughout the dark night making the girls stomach fill with butterflies. it was hard to get her balance at first, her foot slipped once or twice but finally she was able to grab onto the railing. Georgia was standing now holding her hand out in case Samantha needed help but the girl was able to do it on her own. "fuck that was horrible" she breathed out and held her hand against her chest.

"you're so dramatic" Georgia rolled her eyes in amusement. once the girl calmed her heart she sat down where Georgia was previously sitting and the blonde followed her actions, taking the spot beside her. Samantha wordlessly took the blunt out of her pocket and the lighter as well.

“wanna do the honors?" she asked holding it close to the older woman. Georgia smirked and grabbed it from Samantha's hand before pulling it up to her lips. the raven girl turned the lighter on making the fire illuminate her face with an orange light. her freckles could be seen perfectly in that instant. the young girl made eye contact with the blonde before they moved down to the blunt, she bit her lip as she carefully brought the fire toward the blunt and heard it sizzle before it began to burn.

she pulled away a second later, still a little dazed by how close she was to the blonde. she cleared her throat awkwardly and looked at her hand as it reached into her pocket to place the lighter there. her eyes soon met Georgia's body, they started at her legs that were exposed. she was only wearing shorts and a silk shirt, both a beige color. her skin looked so smooth and soft Samantha had to hold herself back from recaching toward her and touching her. but she was snapped out of it pretty quickly by a cloud of smoke hitting her face slightly. her head shot up to see Georgia already looking at her with a small smirk.

Samantha cleared her throat, "i think i met your daughter today" she said and watched as Georgia offered her the blunt. the young girl grabbed it and brought it up to her lips, she inhaled deeply letting the smoke remain in her lungs for a couple of seconds before releasing it into the night.

Georgia chuckled, "oh, you mean the one who stole your brothers bike and then kissed him?"

Samantha smiled in amusement, "guess so"

Georgia sighed and brought the bud up to her lips and took a long drag. "that little shit doesn't know what's coming" she said as she released the smoke form her mouth. Samantha watched in amazement. she had been around people who smoked all the time but something about the way Georgia was doing it made her mind go blank.

she quickly blinked, she did not want Georgia to see her as the hopeless lesbian in love with her hot neighbor. "hey now," she said with a slight laugh "my brothers an asshole but.." she trailed off, where was even going with this? "yeah no he's just an asshole" she nodded in agreement.

Georgia laughed and blew the smoke out of her mouth once more. she did the same thing once more and gave Samantha the blunt. "you're not like your siblings huh?"

Samantha furrowed her brows in slight confusion, she looked at the ground as she took a small drag out of it. she was starting to feel it a little more now and wanted to pace herself. plus Georgia looked like she needed it more than her and she's willing to just give her the rest. "well i'm adopted" she tried to joke.

Georgia looked at her with a 'seriously' look that made Samantha laugh even more, "you know that's not what i mean"

the raven haired girl turned a lot more serious suddenly "i don't know i guess we just.. we don't have the same privilege that's all." she shrugged. Georgia saw the look on Samantha's face that told her she shouldn't push on the subject so she decided to change the conversation topic instead.

"your friends are funny" Georgia commented.

Samantha chuckled and pulled her knees up to her chest, she placed her chin on her knees for support and turned to look at the blonde. "if by funny you mean stupid then sure."

Georgia shook her head with a slight laugh. "you're a senior, right?"

"yeah. i was supposed to graduate early but i just couldn't leave those losers behind."

Georgia raised a brow, "so you're polite and smart, huh?"

Samantha did a double take "polite?" she asked completely confused and why she came to that conclusion. the blonde seemed to be asking completely random questions and she was starting to wonder how hard the weed is hitting.

the blonde smiled, it was one of those that made Samanthas heart beat a second time in just a second. "well, the first conversation i had with your brother he gave me weed" she started and was interrupted from continuing

Samantha looked a bit bewildered "he.. what?" she was aware her brother smoked every once in a while but she didn't think he'd be stupid enough to do it somewhere in which he could be caught. although she felt stupid for even thinking that considering their mother found him smoking on the side of the road a day before.

the blonde laughed softly at how concerned Samantha looked, "okay i'll admit i might've pried it off of him but regardless and this is the second conversation i've had with you that isn't ending up with you kissing up to me or you staring at my boobs."

Samantha looked even more shocked by her statement "oh?"

Georgia laughed even harder, "i just mean.." she chuckled breathlessly "you're mature for your age. that's all." she explained with a slight shrug. by now she had smoked all that she could and the tiny bud was resting on the ashtray beside her.

the girl finally understood what she was trying to say, she wasn't like her brother or maybe some of the teens she had met recently. it wasn't that she wanted be boring or a suck up but she just always craved the validation of her mom and sometimes even other adults. it was the way she could always be trusted and she was never considered to be irresponsible that really fueled her to always be perfect. she shrugged, "yeah well i guess that comes with being the older sibling and all."

Georgia nodded at her words and the two fell into a small silence. most of the time it would've made Samantha's skin crawl, she wasn't a fan of awkward encounters but somehow the way Georgia was smiling like this just gave her so much comfort. but even then she felt the need to fill the silence and he did, "so Ginny is your daughter?" she asked although she already knew the answer.

the blonde could understand the intentions behind her question pretty easily, it was everyone's question. "yeah," she nodded. "had her when i was fifteen."

Samantha's eyebrows rose in surprise "damn, that's.."

"slutty?"

the girl chuckled "i was gonna say brave"

the older woman raises a brow in question, obviously not believing her words. that had never been a way she was described and she didn't think the stoned eighteen year old in front of her would be any different.

Samantha chuckled at her actions, "i'm serious. you seem to have your life together, it's really impressive."

the blonde didn't seem to find a single lie behind her question so she accepted it "thank you"

the smile and intensity of the woman's stare was making Samantha feel all giddy. a shy smile overtook her features "yeah." she said lowly. she realized the conversation ended there when Georgia didn't make a move to speak again. a beat of silence passed before she spoke, finally getting the hint. "i think i should probably get going though."

"yeah," the woman nodded "don't want your mom knowing you were smoking with me."

Samantha smiled and stood "most definitely not. have to keep up the whole 'perfect daughter' persona up, y'know" she said and dusted herself off again.

"absolutely" the blonde agreed with a slight smile. she didn't stand and Samantha assumed she was going to stay out a while longer.

she carefully climbed to the other side of the railing and held on tightly as she said one final thing to the beautiful blonde "i'll see you around bud buddy"

Georgias eyebrows furrowed in confusion, a dozen different emotions flashed by her "i-.. did you just.. you know what? i'm too high for this" she shook her head holding her hands up in defeat.

Samantha laughed at her and climbed down the tree. once her feet were safely on the ground she turned up to look at Georgia again, she shot her one last smile that the blonde returned with ease. a second later she turned around and ran back to her house. she climbed her tree back up to her room and closed the window behind her, she didn't even bother taking off her sweater that reeked of weed and threw her body on the bed.

an uncontrollable smile overcame her features.

[ao3feed-tf2ships]

Doppelganger

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/58667821

by NatalieR

Fritz and the other mercs on BLU team thought the endless battles in Teufort would be easy work, only to find the other team looks somehow exactly like them. Fritz in particular wants to know the origins of these other men, especially the man who shares his face.

Unfortunately for him, the other Medic is curious about him, too. They end up being more alike than Fritz is comfortable with.

Words: 6052, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Team Fortress 2

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence

Categories: M/M

Characters: BLU Team (Team Fortress 2), BLU Medic (Team Fortress 2), BLU Heavy (Team Fortress 2)

Relationships: Heavy/Medic (Team Fortress 2), BLU Heavy/BLU Medic (Team Fortress 2)

Additional Tags: First Time, Hurt/Comfort, Bottom Medic (Team Fortress 2), Religious Guilt, Torture, (not in a sexual context), RED medic just gets curious about BLU Medic and wants to ask him some... questions, Pregnancy Kink

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/58667821

[rhaenella]

You & Me - Rhys Montrose x Reader - Masterlist

Summary: What happens when reader assassin is tasked with killing the possible future mayor of London; Rhys Montrose. Politician by day, Eat the Rich Killer by night. But he isn’t the only person wearing different masks. 

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Violence, murder, immoral sociopathic behaviour, mentions of alcoholism, drug abuse and neglect, (eventual) smut

Total word count (so far): 102k

A/N: Multi part Rhys Montrose x Female Reader fic. FYI, this fic will incorporate the use of Y/N. I have decided to also post this fic on AO3 (same username as on my Tumblr) and to change the x Reader to an Original Female Character over there using a fictitious name. That will be the only difference. So, if the use of Y/N isn’t your thing, go ahead and look the fic up on AO3 :)

Below you'll find the links to all the parts that have thus far been uploaded. I will try my best to upload a new chapter each week. Every part is also accompanied with a 'soundtrack', these are all listed below as well. Finally, a little preview of what's to come... I hope you enjoy the story as much as I enjoy writing it! There aren't a lot of Rhys x Reader fics out there, so I hope I can bring some extra flavour to the table.

Ps don't forget to watch the trailer/edit I made for the fic! x

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23

Soundtracks: 00. Feeling Good – Nina Simone 01. Royals – Lorde  02. Angel of Small Death and the Codeine Scene – Hozier  03. (I Just) Died in Your Arms – Hidden Citizens  04. Secrets And Lies – Ruelle  05. No Good – KALEO  06. …Ready For It? – Taylor Swift 07. Meet Me In the Woods – Lord Huron 08. The River – Daisy Jones & The Six 09. The Silence – Manchester Orchestra 10. Power – Isak Danielson 11. wicked game – Jessie Villa 12. Beautiful Crime – Tamer 13. Toxic – 2WEI 14. Cherry – Lana Del Rey 15. In the Air Tonight – Natalie Taylor 16. Whole Lotta Love (Dermot O’Leary) – Hozier 17. Lavender Haze – Taylor Swift 18. Don’t You Know – Jaymes Young 19. One For My Baby – Frank Sinatra 20. Run Baby Run – The Rigs 21. Sinnerman – Nina Simone 22. And so It Begins – Klergy  23. Darkness In Your Heart – Cowbell

Preview

Song: Feeling Good – Nina Simone

The sound of the heavy door opening as it noisily scraped the floor made you look in his direction. 

Rhys entered slightly out of breath, looking positively dishevelled as he ran a hand through his unruly curls.

“What happened to you? Killed another person?” You couldn’t help but teasingly joke, taking in his state as your eyes roamed freely over his physique. 

Rhys had put his hands on his hips, taking some deep breaths to slow down his heart rate. When he looked up at you, head tilted to the side, he shot you his charming smile that feigned innocence.

No way.

You stared at him. 

No way the man was truly this brazen.

He started to move closer to you, his eyes mischievous as they betrayed his wicked actions. You marvelled a little at how quickly you were getting better at reading him. Perhaps you recognised the murderous tendencies from the mirror. 

[whitedahlia13]

That's Where You'll Find Me

Chapter 1: I'm Not Leaving You

Fandom: Teen Wolf / The Wizard of Oz AU

Characters: Stiles + Lydia, Prada, Natalie Martin

Summary: Everything stopped. His breaths. His heart. Time.

There was only the two of them and the immensely powerful connection he felt whenever they were within a hundred square miles of each other.

Three days ago, Stiles saved Lydia’s life.

With the help of their friends, he coordinated a rather masterful plan, risked everything to free her from Eichen House.

Eichen House, where she was held against her will, drugged and shocked into altered planes of consciousness, poked and prodded for information she didn’t know how to access.

For weeks, she was trapped. Inside that place. Inside her mind. Always with the threat of what else might be done to her or to her friends. She endured the heartbreak of foreseeing their deaths, one by one. She experienced the excruciating pain and trauma of trepanation when Gabriel Valack, the madman posing as her doctor, drilled a hole into her skull to amplify her banshee abilities.

The brutal and archaic procedure left her in a volatile, virtually nuclear state of supernatural unrest.

But just when it seemed as though all would be lost, Stiles appeared.

I’m not leaving you here, he said.

He meant it too. It was clear in his unwavering tone and soulful eyes that he was ready and willing to go with her – through Hell and back.

When they were separated, she could still hear him, palms pounding on steel, echoes of his screams – Lydia... Ly-d-ia!!! penetrating thecavernous walls of that awful, century-old prison. He didn’t give up. No matter the obstacles he faced, no matter who nor what interfered, Stiles found his way back to her.

Now, whenever he walks into her room, that moment replays in her mind. Stiles bursting through a pair of industrial doors. Stiles running to her with open arms. Stiles promising, We’re gonna get you out of here.

Every time, she feels the same relief, the same awe, the same surge of love for him. Her sweet, sarcastic, occasionally clumsy, super smart, superhero in plaid.

Keep Reading: ao3 & ffnet

[nayziiz]

No Way | LN4

Summary: Lando Norris, an F1 driver for McLaren Racing, faces persistent attention on his single status. In an attempt to appease fans and quell rumours, his management suggests a fake relationship with a popular Portuguese model. However, Lando's PR manager, Natalie, disagrees, believing fans would see through the ploy. As an alternative, Lando's management notices the genuine bond between him and Natalie and proposes they feign a relationship for authenticity. Initially hesitant, they agree, given their existing friendship and professional connection. The fake relationship takes an unexpected turn as Lando and Natalie grapple with burgeoning real feelings, attempting unsuccessfully to conceal their growing emotions.

Pairing: Lando Norris x Original Character (Natalie)

Warnings: Mentions of physical and emotional abuse; SA; fluff

Masterlist

CHAPTER 7

In the weeks following the Miami Grand Prix, the bond between Lando and Natalie deepens as they find themselves drawn to each other's company. The shared experiences of the racing world create a unique connection, and they gradually begin to spend more time together away from the bustling atmosphere of the tracks.

As the Monaco Grand Prix approaches, Lando extends a heartfelt invitation to Natalie to stay with him in his apartment in Monaco. It's not just about the proximity to the upcoming race; it symbolises a growing intimacy and trust between them. Natalie, appreciative of the gesture, accepts the invitation, excited for the chance to spend more time with Lando outside the pressures of the racing circuit.

The week in Monaco becomes a pivotal chapter in their relationship. Lando and Natalie share not only the scenic beauty of the principality but also the quieter, more personal moments. They explore the charming streets of Monaco together, indulging in local cuisine, and taking in the breathtaking views of the Mediterranean. This time away from the track allows them to discover each other beyond the adrenaline-fueled world of Formula 1. Despite the bond between them growing stronger every day, they both use the excuse of their fake romance as a cover to hide their true feelings for one another.

Lando's apartment becomes a haven where they can relax and be themselves. The atmosphere is filled with laughter, shared stories, and a growing sense of connection. Amidst the backdrop of the glamorous Monaco lifestyle, their budding romance flourishes, creating lasting memories that extend beyond the confines of the racing calendar.

During this week, Natalie gets a firsthand look at Lando's off-track passions and interests, and they find common ground in their pursuits outside of racing. This shared experience not only strengthens their emotional connection but also sets the foundation for a more profound understanding of each other's lives. Determined to keep Monaco and his apartment a haven for the two of them, Lando sets up his friends in a hotel as opposed to letting them stay with him and Natalie in his apartment.

As Lando gets ready to head out for a night of drinks with friends, the atmosphere in his apartment is a blend of anticipation and tranquillity. The soft glow of bedside lamps casts a warm ambiance, creating a cosy contrast to the bustling nightlife awaiting him outside.

In the bedroom, Natalie is nestled under the covers, engrossed in the pages of her book. The gentle rustle of the turning pages harmonises with the muted sounds of Lando moving about the apartment. Occasionally, she steals subtle glances at him, her eyes tracing the familiar contours of his movements.

Lando, dressed in casually chic attire, moves back and forth between the bathroom and his bedroom. The faint scent of cologne lingers in the air, leaving a trace of his presence. As he checks himself in the mirror, adjusting a collar or running a hand through his hair, Natalie can't help but smile at the easy confidence he exudes.

Their contrasting activities create a serene tableau—the peaceful reading nook juxtaposed with the energetic anticipation of the night out.

“Have you seen my shark tooth necklace anywhere?” Lando asks as he peers around the corner from the bathroom

“It’s on the vanity.” Natalie nonchalantly responds without lifting her gaze from the book

“It’s not there, I’ve checked.” Lando informs her, a touch of frustration in his voice.

“It was there before you started getting ready.” Natalie counters, her expression a mix of amusement and bemusement. There's a subtle teasing tone in her voice, as if she's unravelling a mystery she finds rather amusing.

Lando, wearing an expression of defeat, returns to the bathroom, his search for the elusive shark tooth necklace proving unsuccessful. Natalie, sensing his frustration, decides to join the quest for the missing accessory. She gracefully gets out of bed, her oversized hoodie cascading over her hips and covering her pyjama shorts.

With a knowing smile, Natalie follows Lando into the bathroom, her gaze scanning the familiar surfaces. As she spots the necklace nestled behind Lando's hair gels and aftershave on the vanity, she can't help but suppress a playful giggle. Reaching for the necklace, Natalie picks it up with a triumphant air and holds it up for Lando to see.

“Looking for this?” She teases, her eyes sparkling with amusement. Lando, turning to face her, is met with a mixture of relief and playful reproach.

“You found it? And here I thought I was going to have to search the entire apartment.” He breathes a sigh of relief. Natalie hands him the necklace with a mischievous grin.

“You might need a treasure map next time.” She quips, enjoying the light-hearted moment. Lando takes the necklace, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation.

“I swear, it grows legs and hides every time I need it.” He jokes, his playful demeanour matching hers. “Sometimes I wonder what I would do without you.”

“You’ll be alright.” Natalie chuckles as she leans against the vanity to watch him struggle to put it on.

As Lando bends down to retrieve the fallen necklace, the delicate piece of jewellery slipping through his fingers and landing just before Natalie's feet, a moment of subtle tension hangs in the air. The room is momentarily hushed as their eyes meet, a shared awareness of the proximity between them.

Lando, rising slowly, inches away from her, locks eyes with Natalie. The atmosphere shifts, and the playful energy from the earlier search transforms into a quiet, charged connection. The air seems to thicken with a mixture of curiosity and unspoken emotions.

Their closeness becomes palpable, the shared space charged with a magnetic pull. Lando, still holding the necklace, allows a brief pause before breaking into a charming smile.

“Looks like it wanted to be closer to you.” He quips, injecting a touch of humour to diffuse the building tension. Natalie chuckles, a hint of blush gracing her cheeks.

“Maybe it just needed a change of scenery.” She replies, meeting his gaze with a playful glint in her eyes.

Lando, with a hint of vulnerability, extends the necklace toward Natalie.

“Will you help me put it on, please?” He requests with a genuine warmth in his eyes. She accepts the necklace with a smile, appreciating the endearing clumsiness in his request.

As she clips the necklace around his muscled neck, their hands briefly linger in the shared moment. The simple act of helping him put on the necklace becomes a quiet exchange of intimacy, reinforcing the connection that has been growing between them. While fastening the clasp, Natalie glances up at Lando, her smile softening.

“Are you sure you don't want to come tonight?” He asks, a note of concern in his voice.

“Yeah.” She replies, her fingers deftly securing the necklace. “I'll order room service and read. Just feeling a bit worn out after the last few days.”

Lando nods, appreciating her honesty. As Natalie fixes the collar of his crisp white cotton shirt, he can't help but watch Natalie's eyes intently. The soft glow of the room accentuates her features, and in that moment, he feels an overwhelming desire to express how beautiful she looks. However, a sense of restraint holds him back, perhaps a combination of the lingering playfulness from the necklace incident and the understanding of the importance of timing.

Natalie, oblivious to the internal struggle within Lando, notices some stray fuzz on his shoulder and chest. Her hands delicately dust off the tiny particles, a gesture that carries both care and familiarity. In this simple act, there's a silent communication between them, an unspoken connection that transcends words.

Lando's gaze remains fixed on Natalie, his eyes reflecting a mixture of admiration and affection. He restrains the words that linger on the tip of his tongue, aware that sometimes actions can convey more than words ever could. The room seems to hold a quiet energy, filled with the unspoken sentiments that swirl around them.

“You're looking quite dapper tonight, Mr. Norris.” Natalie comments, a half-smile playing on her lips. Lando, appreciating the compliment, feels a twinge of guilt for leaving her behind.

“I feel bad for leaving you here alone, though.” He mumbles, his concern evident in his voice.

“Please, don't. I think the rest will do me good. Just go have fun.” Natalie reassures him, her tone gentle yet firm,

Lando looks at her, a mixture of gratitude and longing in his eyes. He appreciates her understanding and selflessness. With a final glance and a tender smile, he heads towards the door, leaving Natalie in the cosiness of the room.

As Lando leaves for dinner with his mates, a sense of unease washes over him. The absence of Natalie by his side, a constant presence for weeks, leaves him feeling exposed. Throughout the night, he finds himself glancing at his phone, wondering if she's doing okay without him. The usual banter and shared moments are conspicuously absent.

As the hours pass, the lack of a message from Natalie gnaws at him. Concern grows, and he realises that her absence has created a void that he hadn't fully acknowledged until now. The usual buzz of the night out with friends becomes somewhat muted as thoughts of Natalie occupy his mind. After some contemplation, Lando decides to reach out, his fingers typing a message to her.

L: Wanted to say goodnight in case you're asleep when I get back.

Minutes later, a response appears on his screen, and a sense of relief washes over him.

N: Be safe and have fun ;)

Her simple yet reassuring words alleviate the worry that had been building within him. Lando smiles at the message, grateful for the connection they share even when physically apart. As he continues with the evening, her words linger, providing a comforting reminder that, even in moments of distance, their bond remains strong.

Lando arrives back at the apartment shortly before midnight. He knows Natalie will be fast asleep when he gets back. The travelling this season has been more intense on her than last season and it’s starting to take a toll on her. He knew their fake relationship was only there to get the fans off his back, but he couldn’t help but care about her.

As Lando unlocks the apartment door and steps inside, a hushed atmosphere surrounds him. The night light, left on by Natalie, softly illuminates the room, casting a gentle glow on their surroundings. Appreciating her considerate gesture, he tiptoed through the apartment to his bedroom, avoiding loud creaks that might disturb her peaceful slumber.

Upon entering the room, he notices Natalie, completely enveloped by the covers, lost in the realm of dreams. The rhythmic rise and fall of her breathing indicate a deep sleep. Taking care not to make any noise, Lando quietly changes into a pair of sweatpants, ensuring he won't disturb her with any sudden movements.

Sliding into the bed beside her, Lando's slow but deliberate motions on the mattress catch Natalie's attention. Though initially lost in her dreams, the subtle changes in the bed's weight caused her to stir. She gradually wakes up, turning her head slightly to confirm the presence of the person beside her.

Her eyes, adjusting to the dim light, meet Lando's. A soft smile forms on her lips as she recognises him. The room is filled with a tender ambience as their eyes lock, the unspoken understanding between them bridging the gap between sleep and wakefulness.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry.” Lando whispers apologetically beside Natalie. “Go back to sleep.”

“What time is it?” She asks, groggily, as she turns to him, blinking away the remnants of sleep.

“Just after midnight.” He informs her, settling down under the covers.

“Did you have a good time?” She wonders.

“Not really.” He hesitantly answers.

“How come?” She curiously asks, turning even more so she can see more of his face.

“Just missed you there tonight.” He admits, his voice sincere.

The vulnerability in his words hangs in the air, a testament to the depth of their connection. The subtle admission reveals that, despite the company of friends and the night's activities, Lando's thoughts were consistently drawn back to the absence of the one person who had become an integral part of his everyday life. Natalie, still half-lulled by sleep, smiles at his confession.Her cheeks burn up as she turns back to her original position.

“Get some sleep.” Lando urges, gently redirecting the conversation, perhaps wanting to shift the focus away from his emotions.

After a few minutes, Natalie reaches behind her, searching for Lando's arm. When she finds it, she pulls it over her waist and runs her fingers gently over his forearm.

“Your skin is so cold.” She whispers. In response, she pulls his arm under her hoodie, allowing his arm to rest on the warm skin of her midriff.

“You're so warm.” Lando whispers back, moving closer to her. “You're so good to me.”

Lando, not fully aware that he had spoken his thoughts aloud, senses a shift in the atmosphere as Natalie remains silent in response to his vulnerable admission. Undeterred, she chooses not to address the statement directly, opting instead to continue playing with his fingers under her hoodie.

Feeling her push herself closer against him, sharing their body heat, Lando appreciates the unspoken connection between them. In the quiet of the night, their intertwined fingers become a tangible expression of the emotional bond they've formed during their fake relationship.

For Natalie, the complexity of their situation weighs on her mind. She had agreed to fake date Lando, anticipating the challenges that might arise, but the depth of the connection and the joy of being his "girlfriend" caught her by surprise. The realization that their fake relationship will eventually come to an end looms in the back of her mind, a difficult truth neither of them is ready to confront.

As they share the warmth under the covers, the unspoken acknowledgement of the impending end casts a bittersweet shadow. The joy of their time together is palpable, but the looming conclusion adds a layer of melancholy to the otherwise tender moment.

- THE NEXT MORNING -

While Lando is in the shower to get ready for the day, Natalie seizes the opportunity to make a call to her boss, Charlotte.

“I've been meaning to ask you, uh, has management given you any indication of when they expect this relationship to come to an end?” Natalie inquires, ensuring she can hear the sound of the shower in the background.

“What do you mean? Is something wrong?” Charlotte quickly asks, a note of concern in her voice.

“No, no, everything's fine. It's just, I suppose this can't last forever, and we need to prepare for that if that makes sense.” Natalie explains, choosing her words carefully. There's a moment of silence on the other end of the line as Charlotte processes the information.

“Ah, I see. Well, there wasn't a set timeline communicated to me, but it's a good point. We should think about how to manage the transition when the time comes.” Charlotte agrees, her tone professional yet understanding. “I think the two of you will need to chat about it and decide for yourselves when the best time would be for that. I can understand that you want to go on with your own life.”

“Yeah, I guess that makes the most sense.” Natalie concedes, pacing the room in front of the bed as the weight of the impending conversation settles on her shoulders.

“Are you sure you're okay?” Charlotte probes, sensing something beneath Natalie's reassurance.

“Yeah, everything's fine.” Natalie responds, not wanting to burden Charlotte with the complexities of her emotions.

“You didn't catch feelings for the boy, did you?” Charlotte questions, a note of concern in her voice. Natalie takes a moment before she answers, contemplating the honesty of her response.

“Possibly, that's why it'll probably be best to kind of nip all of that in the bud before it escalates, you know.” Natalie confesses, running a hand through her dark brown hair. “But, I'll sort that out and let you know if there are any changes.”

“Alright, well good luck, darling. I’ll see you two later today.” Charlotte says, her words carrying a mix of support and understanding before they end the call.

As Natalie hangs up the phone, a sense of responsibility and the weight of her emotions converge, setting the stage for a conversation that could shape the course of her fake relationship with Lando.

Caught up in her thoughts and scrolling through notifications, Natalie suddenly realises the absence of the sound of the shower. Instinctively, she turns around, only to be met with the unexpected sight of Lando leaning against the bathroom door frame. He stands there, with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his body glistening from the water droplets that cling to his skin. Lando's curly hair is soaked, and droplets of water cascade down, creating a mesmerising pattern against his toned physique.

“You're ready for this to end?” He asks, his tone betraying a sense of disbelief. “Did you meet someone?”

“Lan, no...we need to be realistic about the situation. We can't keep up the fake relationship forever.” She explains, choosing her words carefully.

Lando, still processing the conversation, repeats his question: “Did you meet someone?” Natalie, looking directly into his eyes, shakes her head.

“No, that's not why I was asking.” She confirms, emphasising that her inquiry wasn't prompted by the emergence of a romantic interest elsewhere. He runs a hand through his wet hair, his eyes searching hers for some hidden meaning.

“I thought we were doing well. I mean, I've enjoyed having you around, and I thought you felt the same.” Lando admits, a hint of vulnerability in his voice. Natalie sighs, feeling the weight of the conversation.

“It's not about not enjoying our time together, Lando. But we need to consider what happens when this arrangement comes to an end.” She says, her gaze steady.

The room becomes filled with palpable tension as they navigate the complexities of their fake relationship and the looming prospect of its conclusion. The unspoken emotions between them swirl in the air, leaving both Natalie and Lando grappling with the reality of their situation.

“Please, just be honest with me.” He pleads with her.

“Fine. I’m scared. I’m scared we’re going to get too comfortable with this arrangement and we’ll end up getting hurt when management decides to pull the plug.” Natalie admits, her breath shaking as she speaks. “It’ll just be better when we have a day, a date, something so we know. It’s going to be an adjustment going back to normal.”

“Don’t you think we’re past comfortable already? I mean, I am standing in front of you with just a towel in my bedroom. We spend most nights sleeping in the same bed. This is our new normal. It has been for months. What would the old normal even look like?” Lando counters.

Natalie, caught off guard by his perspective and his apparent desire to continue their faux relationship, finds herself at a loss for words. The complexity of their situation, the blurred lines between fiction and reality, leaves her feeling confused and uncertain about the path forward.

“Nattie.” Lando pleads, his voice carrying a mixture of earnestness and confusion. “How could we ever go back to normal?”

“I don’t know, Lando. I just want to be prepared for it when it happens, OK?” Natalie responds, a tinge of frustration evident in her tone.

She's annoyed that he overheard the conversation and finds his teasing demeanour, particularly in just a towel, distracting. “Why would you want this to continue anyway?”

“Because you're incredible!” Lando exclaims, his frustration and genuine feelings coming to the forefront. “Your smile feels like home. Your embraces make me feel secure. You motivate me every day to be the absolute best I can be. When you're not with me, I feel like a deer caught in headlights.”

His heartfelt declaration hangs in the air, a vulnerable admission of the depth of his emotions. The room is filled with the raw honesty of his words, and Natalie, caught off guard by the intensity of his feelings, is left momentarily speechless.

Lando's confession lays bare the genuine connection that has developed between them during their faux relationship. The unexpected turn in the conversation adds a layer of complexity to their situation, forcing them to confront the authenticity of their feelings amid the backdrop of a relationship built on pretence

“You're not doing this. You're not going to confess your feelings for me, Lando. That complicates everything. That's why I'm scared, because how do I listen to this and be happy to end this fake relationship?” Natalie argues, her voice strained with the weight of conflicting emotions, tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

“Why should we have to end it, then? Why can't we just be this until we don't want to be anymore? You know this hasn't been fake for a while.” Lando, equally determined to express his feelings, counters

Caught in the whirlwind of emotions, Natalie grapples with the revelation that Lando's feelings align with the unspoken desires she buried deep within herself. The unexpected turn of events challenges the carefully constructed barriers she built to maintain the facade of their fake relationship.

In this moment of realisation, Natalie is confronted with the vulnerability of her own emotions, a stark contrast to the pragmatic approach she adopted to shield herself from the impending end. The weight of the truth settles on her shoulders, and the room becomes a silent witness to the uncharted territory they find themselves in, both emotionally exposed and uncertain about what lies ahead.

Natalie, overwhelmed by the surge of emotions and unable to confront Lando's confession, refuses to answer him. Instead, she tosses him a shirt and a pair of shorts, a physical distraction from the emotional turmoil.

“I can't have this conversation with you when you look like that.” She states, her voice steady but her back turned to him. As she wipes away the tears from her cheeks, the room is filled with an unspoken tension.

Lando quickly gets dressed and dries his hair with the towel. He clears his throat, a silent indication that she can turn around.

“Nattie, why are you so scared all of a sudden?” He gently asks, his earlier emotional intensity calming down. Lando, dressed and composed, seeks to understand the source of Natalie's sudden apprehension.

When Natalie turns around, she's a sobbing mess. Lando, seeing her emotional state, hurries over and wraps his arms around her, providing a comforting embrace.

“I'm scared that when things come to an end, you'll stop looking at me like I'm the sun, the moon, and the stars.” Natalie mumbles into his chest, her vulnerability laid bare.

“You are my sun, my moon, and my stars, Nattie.” He assures her, his voice filled with sincerity. “Don't end things before we've had a proper chance to really make it work. Not for the cameras, not for the fans or management, but really make it work because we care deeply for each other. Can we do that?”

Natalie pulls away and studies Lando's face for any doubts, but his expression conveys a mix of hope and desperation. He looks down at her like she's about to rip his heart out of his chest if she answers anything else apart from yes.

“Please.” He whispers, his desperation evident in his plea.

Instead of a verbal answer, Natalie crashes her lips against his, pulling her arms around his neck in a passionate embrace. After a few intense moments, she pulls away and looks at the time on her watch.

“We have to go. Free practice starts soon.” She reminds him, her voice a mix of urgency and a lingering connection.

- LATER THAT DAY -

Lando finds himself distracted by Natalie's movements around the garage as she prepares her media packet. He watches her effortlessly engage with the mechanics and engineers, sharing laughter and exchanging comments. Her brown hair whips from side to side as she moves, an animated presence that captures his attention.

Natalie's focus shifts between assembling her media packet and stealing quick glances at Lando as he prepares to head out for FP1. The top half of his race suit is tied around his hips, revealing the black fire suit underneath that complements his tanned skin perfectly. The casual yet alluring sight of him in the garage momentarily captivates her attention.

“Girl got your brain upside down this morning?” Oscar asks Lando as he stands beside his teammate.

“You have no idea.” Lando simply answers, his eyes not leaving Natalie for a second.

“Lily!” Natalie exclaims when she spots Oscar's girlfriend entering the garage. “It's so nice to see you again.”

Natalie quickly embraces Lily in a tight hug. She loved having Lily in the paddock. Lily's university schedule made it difficult for her to attend race weekends, but whenever she had the chance, she came to support Oscar.

“You didn't say Lily was coming this weekend, shame on you.” Natalie comments as the girls approach Lando and Oscar.

“She surprised me last night by knocking on my hotel room door.” Oscar explains, chuckling at Natalie's overreaction.

“We need to have dinner sometime this weekend.” Natalie insists.

“That'd be lovely, thank you.” Lily agrees.

“Yo, Lando. Time to head out!” Lando's race engineer yells, pointing to the car behind the group.

Lando tears his gaze away from Natalie, Oscar, and Lily, turning his attention to the race engineer's call. The racetrack beckons, and with a nod to the group, Lando heads towards his car, ready to focus on the upcoming practice session.

Natalie hands Lando his helmet and walks with him to the car. She watches with a mix of pride and concern as he gets in and gets strapped in. Lando looks up at Natalie with a sparkle in his eyes.

“Be safe out there.” She breathes.

“Of course.” He assures her as he puts on his gloves.

When he's almost ready to be rolled out, Natalie taps his helmet, making him look up at her.

“Make me proud, Norris.” She warns him.

“Always, baby.” He replies with a sneaky wink.

The endearing term 'baby' effortlessly rolls off Lando's tongue, and Natalie can't help but love hearing it from him. It brings a warmth and sense of adoration that adds a personal touch to their unique dynamic. As the car is rolled out to the track, Natalie watches, a mix of emotions coursing through her.

- THAT NIGHT -

It had been a long day of practice. Lando and Natalie spent minimal time together aside from their usual lunch with his trainer in between sessions. Natalie has been on a high all day from the second she heard the word ‘baby.’ She couldn’t wait to hear him say it again, but he was professional all day, only holding her hand here and there as they walked through the paddock.

“It was a good day, no?” Natalie asks as they arrive back at their hotel room. “The pace looked really good and this isn’t even a track we usually perform too well at.”

“Yeah, I’m actually quite surprised it went as well as it did.” Lando agrees as he collapses on the bed, sprawling out his limbs.

Natalie heads to the bathroom to change out of her uniform and into something more comfortable. She opts for a pair of shorts and an oversized shirt, seeking the ease and relaxation of casual attire after a long day at the track.

“I was thinking of going to dinner with Lily tomorrow after qualifying, that gives her and Oscar time to catch up.” Natalie speaks from the bathroom. Lando is quiet.

As Natalie peers around the corner, she finds Lando fast asleep in the same position he laid down in. A smile crosses her face, and she decides to put on a pair of jeans instead, opting to go for a walk to avoid disturbing his rest. She scribbles a note down on a piece of paper and leaves it next to his phone before quietly exiting the hotel room.

The note reads, "Went for a walk. Back soon. Sleep well, Lando. - Nattie." With that, she steps out into the evening, leaving the sleeping Lando in peace as she takes a moment to herself. The city outside holds a different kind of energy, and Natalie embraces the tranquillity of the night, knowing that the upcoming race weekend holds both challenges and moments of connection.

An hour later, Natalie's phone starts vibrating in her jeans pocket. She pulls it out and answers immediately when she sees it's Lando.

“Hey.” She greets, a soft smile forming on her face.

“Hey.” Lando's voice comes through, filled with a hint of sleepiness. “Where are you?”

"Just went for a walk, needed some fresh air. I’m just down the street, actually.” Natalie replies as the city sounds faintly audible in the background.

“You should've woken me up. I would've joined you.” Lando suggests.

“I didn't want to disturb your sleep.” She chuckles. “How are you feeling?”

“Good, a bit groggy, but good.” He admits. “Want to go for dinner? I just have to change.”

“That sounds lovely. I’ll be up in a few minutes.” She affirms.

“See you soon, love.” He greets her before ending the call.

Natalie can't help but smile at the endearing term. The word 'love' slips from Lando's lips effortlessly, and it warms her heart. She heads back to his apartment, eager for a quiet dinner together after a day filled with the intensity of racing. Upon her return to the apartment, she hears him busy in the bathroom.

“I’m back.” She informs him as she heads to her suitcase to find something else to wear for dinner.

“You don’t perhaps have a little black dress packed in there?” He asks as he leans against the bathroom’s door frame. Natalie turns her head to find him dressed in all black and freshly shaved.

“Not a black one, but a green one?” She answers as she pulls out the silk emerald green dress.

“That’ll work as well. Green looks good on you.” He comments before returning to the bathroom to finish up.

Natalie changes into the emerald green dress, perfecting her look with makeup. She then searches for her black block heels to accompany the outfit. As she finds them and sits at the edge of the bed to put them on, Lando watches her intently from the bathroom's door frame, captivated by every movement.

He loves every second of seeing her cross her smooth, tanned legs over each other to put on her shoes. The quiet and intimate moments shared while getting ready for dinner underscore the depth of their connection.

“You know, when you asked me to go to dinner, I didn’t think it would be this smart.” She comments.

“Felt like treating you.” He responds, his voice carrying a note of sincerity.

As she stands up and straightens her dress that reaches her mid-thigh, the atmosphere takes on a subtly romantic undertone.

“Oh, like a date you mean?” Natalie teases, a playful glint in her eyes.

“Exactly like a date.” Lando agrees, his tone laced with warmth and affection as he takes a step closer to her. The proximity adds an intimate touch to their interaction. “You’re the most beautiful girl in the world.”

“Stop it.” Natalie says shyly, a blush colouring her cheeks.

Lando's genuine compliment evokes a tender response, and the genuine exchange captures a moment suspended in time. Lando frowns at her refusal to accept his compliment and steps even closer, resting his hands on her hips before they travel around to her back.

“Gorgeous.” He whispers in her ear sending shivers down her spine.

“Lando.” She whispers back as she presses her forehead onto his shoulder. His hands keep travelling up and down her back over the silky material covering her body.

“Breathtaking.” He continues before planting a soft kiss on her neck. “Now let’s go to dinner.”

He pulls away from her, grabs her hand and leads her out the door.

Dinner was pleasant. The absence of fans crowding them in the restaurant provided a welcome change. What took Natalie by surprise was the newfound sexual tension between them. Lando had awakened a repressed part of her femininity that she had kept hidden after her last relationship. The intimate atmosphere of the evening seemed to have unlocked a deeper connection between them.

As they walked back to the hotel, the city lights casting a soft glow around them, Natalie couldn't help but lean into him. He wrapped his arm around her, and his jacket covered her exposed shoulders, creating a subtle yet intimate shield against the cool night air. The shared closeness and the unspoken understanding between them added a layer of complexity to their relationship, creating a moment that transcended the boundaries of their initial arrangement. The cityscape witnessed the quiet beauty of their connection as they navigated the streets together, each step echoing the newfound depth in their evolving relationship.

Throughout the night, Lando struggled to keep his hands to himself. Somehow, his hands kept finding parts of her exposed skin. He had always admired and loved every aspect of her body – her curves, her hands – she was, in his mind, perfect. However, it was her kindness and compassion that he cherished the most. He just wanted to show her how special she was to him, to love her in a way she truly deserved.

In Lando's eyes, Natalie was an embodiment of beauty, both inside and out. Her physical features were complemented by the warmth and genuineness that radiated from her. Yet, she couldn't shake the awareness of her insecurities, a lingering effect of her past relationship. He wished she could see herself through his eyes, free from the shadows cast by her ex-boyfriend. The desire to make her feel cherished and adored fueled his restraint throughout the night, as he navigated the delicate balance of expressing his affection while being mindful of her comfort and past experiences.

They stop outside his apartment door and turn to face each other.

“That was lovely, thank you.” She says.

“It’s the least I could do.” He responds.

“What do you mean?” She asks, confused.

“You do so much for me and it never feels like I can give back to you.” He admits.

“I know of one way you can.” She teases.

“Yeah?” He curiously asks.

“Keep calling me baby.” She whispers, sultry and smooth.

“Oh, that’s just too easy.” He teases her. “But I‘m open to suggestions.”

Natalie giggles as Lando unlocks the door, allowing her to enter first and closely following her inside. The apartment, a familiar space, offers a sense of comfort and privacy. Natalie immediately takes off her heels, relishing the feeling of being flat on solid ground once again. Lando watches her with an appreciative gaze as she bends over to pick up her black heels. There's a natural grace to her movements, a fluidity that reveals the ease and comfort she feels in his presence.

Her short dress, a vibrant emerald green, offers just enough glimpses of skin to ignite a spark of desire in Lando. The way she moves around him, carefree and unguarded, captivates him in ways he finds both thrilling and comforting. As she bends over, there's a subtle allure that adds a layer of sensuality to the moment, leaving an indelible impression on Lando.

Aware of the rising tension, Lando turns away and distracts himself by switching on the TV. It's not the first time he's been captivated by her, his primal instincts occasionally surfacing. He's learned when to divert his gaze and clear his mind of those thoughts, maintaining a respectful boundary. However, tonight, the magnetic pull is stronger than usual, and he can't help but keep his eyes on her as she struts down the hallway to the bedroom, the emerald green dress enhancing every step with an irresistible allure.

He mindlessly flicks through the channels, but his eyes keep finding her. The soft glow of the television provides a subtle ambience, but his attention is drawn back to the hallway where Natalie's figure moves gracefully in the emerald green dress. Lando zoned out for a moment, lost in the subtle allure of the scene.

Before he realises, he feels a pair of hands running over his abs from behind. The touch interrupts his thoughts, and he turns around to find Natalie standing close, a playful and alluring smile on her lips.

“You seem a tad distracted.” Natalie mumbles against his back.

“Not more than usual.” He replies. “It’s difficult to focus on anything when you look the way you do.”

The heat rushes to Natalie's cheeks as her hands keep travelling up to his chest. The palpable tension between them intensifies, the warmth of her touch adding to the charged atmosphere.

“And, the way your eyes light up when you smile.” He adds.

One of her hands stays on his chest, feeling the rhythmic beat of his heart beneath her touch, while the other travels underneath his button-down shirt. Her nails trace shapes onto his skin, leaving a trail of sensation that ignites a cascade of shivers down his spine.

“And, the joy that escapes your lips when you laugh at my silly jokes.” Lando continues, his words carrying a fondness that mirrors the affectionate moments they've shared. Natalie, with deliberate slowness, starts unbuttoning his shirt from the bottom, revealing the contours of his chest inch by inch. “Or when you leave sweet kisses on my neck when you think I’ve fallen asleep.”

“I do not.” Natalie lies.

“Oh, but you do.” Lando retorts, his shirt completely unbuttoned now. The air in the room becomes charged with a mix of playfulness and desire. The gradual exposure of his chest accentuates the vulnerability of the moment. “And, when you hum your favourite songs in my ear when I can’t fall asleep.”

Lando turns Natalie around, softly pressing himself against the back of the couch. The air becomes charged with a palpable tension as his fingers gently and meticulously work to unzip the dress she has on. The room is filled with a quiet intensity, a merging of desire and vulnerability.

“And, when you bite your lip when you can’t get what you want.” Lando continues as he turns her to face him once again. The room is filled with a charged atmosphere, their banter seamlessly merging with the growing intensity of their connection. “Kind of like you are now.”

“Who says I can’t get what I want?” Natalie counters, a smirk forming on her pink lips.

“You can have everything you could possibly desire.” He informs her, his voice carrying a sincerity that reflects the depth of his feelings.“What do you want most, right now?”

“For you to shut up and kiss me.” She informs her, his voice carrying a sincerity that reflects the depth of his feelings.

“Of course, baby.” He melts as he presses his lips against hers. The kiss is a culmination of their unspoken desires, a moment that transcends the boundaries of their previous arrangement. He pulls away after a few seconds and just holds her in his arms.

“Be my girlfriend. Like my real girlfriend.” He says, his voice carrying a vulnerable sincerity.

“I thought you’d never ask.” Natalie whispers to him before they continue kissing, sealing the unspoken agreement between them.

At this moment, the transition from a fake relationship to a real one is marked by a shared understanding and a genuine connection that has blossomed.

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

Taglist: @noneofyourfbusinessworld @scopeiguess @tbsloneely

[sinning-23]

Mona Lisa

Warnings; none(yet)

Updates: Introduction found here

Chapter 2 found here

Chapter 1

The house was alive with guests and music. Of course, you were on the clock, taking time to paint the scene in front of you. Natalie was sweet enough to offer you some wine but you declined, needing the utmost attention in order to paint. So instead you were graced with a glass of water that rested beside you. The pleasant and savory aroma of spices filled the air. You felt at ease as the smells ignited nostalgic Memories of home.

You’d been painting for hours now, the once blank faces now taking shape as your background was completed. Needing to place your focus elsewhere for a minute, you looked out the window. The sky was a gorgeous purple and the lush clouds scattered around it was breathtaking. The trees outside were darkening as shadows cast over the house and a breeze gently shook the leaves. It’d make a beautiful landscape. 

You sigh, finally placing your brush down on your canvas after holding it for so long. Despite your work taking form in a culmination of calculated paint strokes and colors, your wrist was ready to betray you, the cramp beginning to form and your arm beginning to give out. Reluctantly leaving your station, you stand and stretch, deciding that you most definitely needed a break. 

Squeezing past partygoers, you find your way to the kitchen, hoping it’d be empty. But like always, your hopes were crushed when you spotted someone. A man with curled blonde locks falling over his face stood in front of a stove. His eyebrows lowered and knit together with a scowl on his lips.

He was just as into his craft as you were.

What was he cooking? That must’ve been what you were smelling when you were painting before. Maybe you shouldn’t hover over him. You take a step back, silently backing against the countertop, watching how his eyes darted from bowl to bowl of mixed ingredients but never to your figure standing across the room. Every movement made the muscles in his arms flex.

“I didn't know Nat had a personal chef.” You murmur, the rings on your fingers feeling uncomfortable with how tightly you were squeezing the countertop.

Damn Nerves. 

You must have startled him because he flinched at your voice and was just now taking the time to make quick eye contact with you.

“She uh- she doesn’t, just watching this for her…but she has a personal painter?” His icy blue eyes scan you. He’s analyzing and his focus lingers on your frame.

 What was he looking at? You averted your gaze, the coldness of his baby blue’s clashing with the warmth of your chocolate brown eyes. Since he decided to stare you took it upon yourself to return the favor. His arms are flexed, and the fabric of his simple long sleeve is rolled up enough to have them exposed. Black ink contrasts with his porcelain skin and his face has noticeable splotches of red, most likely from the heat of the stove. You allowed your eyes to trail down the middle of his face. His lips remained pressed into a line still awaiting your answer with his head tilted to the side. 

He’s pretty, really pretty. But you’d be a fool to say it aloud. 

“I wouldn't say personal. It's a favor for a friend.” You finally answer, turning to wash your hands and break the seemingly awkward stare-off you were having. His attention returns to the food. 

—-

The party had died down quite a bit. Your station clean up went better than you expected, the only thing left of your area was the canvas was on display. You return to the kitchen for the second time this evening to clean your brushes hoping to run into the ‘personal chef again’. Unfortunately, the blonde from before was nowhere to be seen.  The smell of spices was almost nonexistent now, every few minutes you’d turn around expecting to see him appear, even if it was just for a second. Judging on how spotless the kitchen looked, he must have cleaned up for Nat and left after he was done ‘watching’ whatever food for her. Speaking of which-

“The painting looks amazing.” She compliments with a smile.

You smile back, taking time to get between the bristles with your fingers, the clear water mixing in a sea of browns when your brushes made contact. 

“Thanks, I was starting to panic though, I got a cramp halfway through.” You chuckle, setting the brushes into your apron once they are rinsed. 

The two of you joke back and forth for a bit, discussing whatever subject came to mind. You’d gotten close enough to her for that type of thing now. She insists on paying you but you decline and reassure her this is simply a favor amongst friends. Of course, you just had to open your mouth and mention the stranger. 

“Who was that by the way? He said he was watching your food for you but I saw him add some stuff. He was kind of… I don't know. Anyway, who was he?” You question, clearing your throat a bit.

“Who, Carmy?” She questions, voice raising an octave as her brows raise. 

“So that's his name. I was kind of disappointed that I didn't see him again. He moves quickly. Whatever he was helping cook it smelled great.” You grin, the memory making you giddy. 

“Y/n, he’s my brother.” She explains making your eyes widen. 

“Really? Huh, he’s not much of a talker is he? I mean I was just- we just- I didn't want to interrupt him. I came in for a sec to take a break and…Well he was here but..” You try to explain, but Nat sees right through you. 

“Mhm, Well here’s his number. Give him a call sometime, he never talks to me anyway. Maybe he’ll talk if he has some extra company like you around.” She explains, handing you a freshly written Post-it note. 

—

The sun had long set, stars sprinkling the sky here and there while the cold nips at wherever it can get a hold on. Early spring still felt like winter. You decided to leave your paint supplies in your car and draw a few landscapes in your sketchbook. Maybe you'd even pull the stuff out in the park if you were feeling spontaneous. 

The apartment is warm and the whirr of your appliances is the first thing you hear upon entry. Bubbles, your fish is inside the castle of his own little fishbowl apartment and your lights are dim. To anyone else, this would be messy. But your studio was calculated chaos in your eyes. There was a system and in your mind, you knew where everything was and where it should be. 

Hot water runs from the shower head and onto your skin, soaking off the day's dirt with ease. You're sure not to wet your braids, the humidity from the steam already doing enough damage to make them fuzzy. It was time for fresh ones anyway. Your mind trails thoughtlessly over to-do lists and possibilities for tomorrow, but the person you’d least expect to cross your mind was the stranger you knew as, Carmen.

Natalie did say they were siblings and the more you think about the two of them the easier it gets to see the resemblance. Speaking of which, you knew of her older brother. Michael? Yeah, Michael. That's who you did the portrait for that day she requested…well it was a portrait for her of course. It's been months since you touched it but she was so understanding.

You lower your sleep mask and tuck into the warmth of your comforters, turning off your phone for the night after drafting your message.

To: ***-***-****

Personal painter to personal chef. What are the odds of us meeting again?

[daydreamgoddess14]

Aspirations pt. 6 - The Finale!

Sydcarmy Masterlist

Aspirations previous chapters: CH 1 | CH 2 | CH 3 | CH 4 | CH 5

Full Masterlist

Here we go, it's the end 😥 I hope this chapter wraps everything up for you and you enjoy it. I've had an absolute ball writing this - loved every second! Thank you so much for reading, commenting, sending the sweetest messages - you guys are AMAZING! 😘

We switch it over to Carmy's POV and there is also some smut in this here chapter 🔥

I listened to a couple of songs in particular when I wrote this chapter - Hozier Take Me to Church just had me picturing Carmy worshiping Syd for like, the rest of his damn life, and Taylor Swift Dress - in particular the bridge:

There is an indentation in the shape of you

Made your mark on me, a golden tattoo

All of this silence and patience

Pining and anticipation

My hands are shaking from holding back from you

Anyway, enough talking. Fingers crossed I stuck the landing with this 9k (wtf?!) final chapter! 💜

~~~~~~~~

From the moment she stepped into his office and asked what he was doing in Chicago, he knew he was in trouble. She'd painstakingly won over every member of the crew one by one, called him out on his bullshit and helped build The Bear up from literal rubble. She'd stabbed Richie and then become one of his closest friends within the space of 6 months, she'd been a source of support for Nat, and she'd raised up Tina and Marcus in particular. In short, he had no idea how he'd gotten to this point of his life without her in his corner, but he knew now that he couldn't live without her. She was his constant, his north star, his fucking guiding light. He could acknowledge that to himself right away, but it took those final days before opening for him to realize that Syd was also pure love. Real, raw and honest. Not some dreamlike, fictional, glossed over version, but messy and sometimes very fucked up. The last thing he'd wanted to do was destroy it, so he'd taken what he'd thought was the safest path - to hold it at arm's length and protect it. Protect her. 

“I thought… I thought we could get over what you said in the walk-in. I thought I could be the one to show you that you can have the things you talked about. That damn restaurant doesn’t have to run you into the ground - you can have a life as well, you know?” He didn’t say anything, looked at his hands and tried to find the words to apologize.

“The restaurant is my life, Claire. It was never fair for me to expect you to put up with that. I promise I never intended to make you second best, you deserve so much fucking more than that. But I can’t be the one to give it to you. I’ve got too much shit going on and I can’t drag you into it.” 

“So you’re finally calling it?” She sighed. He nodded,

“I’m sorry.”

“Me too, Carmen. I don’t know what you think you deserve or what you're looking for… but for what it’s worth I do hope you find it. Don’t end up like Mikey.” He studied his hands, he could make out a faint crescent shape on his palm, in the soft pad under his thumb, from where Syd had gripped his hand with her own last night in the kitchen. Their kitchen. He had a faint bite mark on his shoulder as well, a small bruise. He wondered vaguely if she had similar marks.

“I’m sorry, Claire.”

He felt like a weight had been lifted. Not from breaking things off with Claire, although that was certainly the catalyst, but from the weight of expectation. He’d gone from the restaurant to take Syd home, where they’d shyly said goodbye. He’d then gone home and slept for all of three hours before deep cleaning his apartment. He was on Claire’s doorstep with coffee before 9am and in Natalie’s kitchen by 11am. 

“I broke it off with Claire.” He said quietly, taking the bottle of milk and checking the temperature on the back of his hand.

“I know.”

“Did she call you already?” Satisfied with the temperature, he leaned Mikey back and put the silicone teat to his mouth.

“No honey, I just know. Sit him up a little more, it might take him a minute to settle - breastfed babies don’t always take to bottles, so sometimes he needs a little bit of encouragement. That’s it, perfect.” She guided his elbow into a more comfortable position and watched with pride as Mikey fed. 

“Aren’t you going to ask why?”

“No. I want you to want to tell me.” She put her feet up next to his on the coffee table. “Y’know, it’s not the best time to learn shit - immediately after having a baby. Hormones, lack of sleep, you’re bleeding like a fucking murder victim… but they just kick you right out of that hospital and say ‘see ya later’ and you’re expected to know how to breastfeed them, how to burp them, change them, understand their every need… it’s fucked up. And no one mothers the mother, y’know?”

“You have a Pete.”

“I do have a Pete, and he is incredible. Gets right in there with the shit and the vomit.” She laughed, “It’s not Mikey’s job to teach me those things. It’s not his responsibility to be a ‘good’ baby, whatever the fuck that means. His job is just ‘baby’.”

“Where’re you going with this, Nat?”

“You don’t call me Sugar anymore.” She stated.

“No. I try not to.”

“Why?”

“I guess I don’t want you to feel put down. It’s not a nice nickname, it didn’t come from a nice place.”

“No. It was a way of belittling me. It was another way for mom to make me feel shitty about myself. And you recognizing that, Carmy? Tells me you’re on the right path. Sit him up and put your hand under his chin, now rub his back.” He did as he was told, waiting for her to continue. “I… I’ve realized a lot in the last few months. Pretty much since mom didn’t show up to Family Night?”

“Oh yeah?” Mikey let out a loud burp, making them both smile.

“I’m not responsible for her, I never was. We didn’t fail her as kids, she failed us as a mother, Carmen. She was emotionally manipulative, she didn’t always care for us properly and now as adults, we are fucked up because of her.” Carmy turned to look at Nat, expecting tears, but she looked at peace. “I have had to work really hard to unlearn some of the stuff I thought was right but really isn’t.” She turned her full body to address him properly, “Claire told me what you said when you were in the walk-in? I didn’t get it word for word, but something about not needing to give or receive amusement or enjoyment?” Mikey balled his little fists as he finished the bottle, Carmy sat him back up for another burp under Nat’s watchful eye. She nodded as he put his hand under the baby’s chin to help him.

“Yeah, I said some pretty dark shit.”

“It’s not true. You do need to receive those things - that’s what makes a life, Carmy. And just because you feel like you didn’t deserve to get those things from Claire, or want to give them to her, doesn’t mean you don’t already provide them unintentionally. You do it for everyone who works for us, our friends. For Richie, for Syd, for Mikey… I think you need to think about the difference between doing something intentionally and unintentionally. They’re not a party piece or a grand gesture. They’re supposed to be as natural as breathing. So when you buy Richie a pack of smokes cos you know he’s about to run out, when you give Tina a random night off just cos she looks a bit tired?”

“That’s just… it’s -”

“It’s love, Carmy. It’s love. And if you found it hard with Claire, if it didn’t come easily, then it’s not because you’re a disgustingly horrible human being! It’s simply because you don’t love her. You can’t force that feeling. It’ll destroy you.” He felt her eyes on him, watching him as he put the baby on his legs so he could sit up and face them both. “I love you, Carmy. You have got to stop being your own worst enemy and actually let us love you.” Mikey gurgled and held up a little fist, “or this kid is gonna kick your ass.” She teased, Mikey giggled.

“You’re right.”

“I know I am. You gonna stay for lunch?” She asked, getting up and clearing their coffee cups.

“Yeah. Yo, Nat?” She turned back to look at him, “I love you too.”

*

On Monday, with Nat’s words still ringing in his ear, Carmy made his way through the front of the restaurant and locked the door behind him. He could see through the window to the kitchen immediately, Syd was at one of the stations with her back to the window, swaying on the spot and… singing?

“You are my sunshine, my only sunshine, you make me happy - no, no Chef, that’s Auntie Syd’s knife and your mama would fucking kill me if you touch it. I’ll teach you when you’re a little older - when skies are gray. You’ll never know, dear, how much I love you. Please don’t take - please don’t take the broccoli, you are just like your Uncle Carmy, do you know that? - Please don’t take my sunshine away.” She turned and he could see that she had Mikey in a baby carrier strapped to her chest and facing outwards, “You’re too cute. Oh! Happy smile! You like being called a cutie, huh? Well, it won’t last forever so take it while you can buddy. Although, Jesus kid, if you keep those baby blues then we’re all doomed. Trust me, I was totally fucking gone the day I stepped into this place.” He watched her wipe down where she’d been chopping vegetables and put the knife away. She moved out of sight but came back with a small cup of flour which she sprinkled onto the work surface, “there you go baby Bear, shall we draw in the flour? Shall we make a chef outta you when you're older? Just like Uncle Carmy and Uncle Mikey. That’s right! You like Uncle Carmy, huh? Me too, Chef, high five!” The baby babbled and waved his hands wildly in the flour, covering them both in fine powder, “I didn’t know Uncle Mikey, but I promise mama and Uncle Carmy will tell you all about him. Hey, Chef, we don’t put our hands in our mouth when we’re working, ok? It’s gross. For other people, I mean.” She pulled a towel from her apron and wiped his hands and mouth. Her voice dropped a little and she spoke so quietly he couldn’t hear her for a few minutes, but he stayed near the door, watching her brush flour out of Mikey’s curls and clearing up their mess. “... and when you’re 16 you can come and work here with me and Uncle Carmy and we’ll teach you everything. You’ll get so good when he teaches you. And then when you’re bigger you can go with Marcus to wherever Luca is and learn pastry.” He cried out a little, “I know, I know. I feel the same about pastry, Chef, but you gotta learn the whole thing if you’re gonna be as good as Uncle Carm, right? Shall we get you one of those bullshit fuckin’ stars? Yeah? Baby Berzatto, the youngest Michelin star holder in the whole fuckin’ world?” She twirled on the spot as he giggled. He felt his breath catch in his throat as he watched her moving around the kitchen, getting ingredients out and putting them in the correct sections, checking off the list on what needed to be done and when. So busy, and yet taking time with his nephew with such care and love. He was blown away initially, but instantly remembered what he’d said to her under the table at Family night, 

“You love taking care of people.” He pushed through the swing door and she looked up with a smile, 

“Hey Mikey, look! Uncle Carm’s here.” She said brightly, ignoring his statement. Mikey kicked his legs in free air from his carrier and waved his chubby arms around. “Is it me or does he, like, age so much so quickly?”

“He rolled over yesterday,” Carmy told her with a smile,

“Fuck off, no way?!”

“For real. And uhh, I think I just unlocked a new favorite kitchen memory.” She looked up sharply, a shy smile breaking out across her face.

“Hmm. Well at least this one is family friendly.” She retorted.

“Ahh yeah. Think I’ll keep the other one quiet. Where’s Nat?”

“Just running a couple of errands. I said I’d watch Mikey so she could get them done quicker. I was here early.”

“Trouble sleeping?”

“Something like that.”

“Heard. Can we talk later?”

“Sure. We’ll find some time.”

“Ok, good. Can I take him, is that ok?”

“God, please do, he’s heavy!” She put a hand on Mikey’s belly and unclipped one of the straps so that Carmy could lift him up and out of the carrier, then she unclipped the whole thing and went to hang it up in the office.

“So you’re gonna coach him to a star, huh?”

“How much did you hear?” She asked warily. He waved a hand, brushing off her embarrassment,

“Just the star.”

“Good. I’m taking advantage of being able to talk shit about you while he doesn’t understand.” She teased. He didn’t call her out on the lie. Nat came back and the others started to arrive. Mikey was happily passed around various sections all morning while Nat worked. Carmy took him through to the office just as she was packing her bag,

“Ready to take him back?”

“For sure, I’ve missed him! Hi sweetheart - have you had fun with your kitchen family out there?!” She cooed. “You ok, how’re you feeling today?” She asked Carmy.

“Yeah, I’m good. Been thinking about everything you said yesterday. I’m gonna just… soak this in a little, I guess?” He gestured out to the kitchen where there was happy chatter. Tina was telling a dirty joke, and as the punchline landed, he heard Syd and Richie’s roars of laughter.

“I think that’s a very good idea. Be with the ones you love, Carm and for fucksake let us love you back.”

“Yes, Chef.” He smiled.

“It’s not a cure to being a better person, but it’s a start.”

“Yeah, you’re right. I’m… I’m really… it’s good to get back to this, right?” He pointed between them both,

“Getting along? Yeah, Carm. It’s good.” She put the baby into the carseat and stood to hug him tightly. “I love you.” She whispered.

*

“It’s fucking freezing out here.” Syd complained, he could see her pulling her jacket tighter around her, trying to shrink into it further. Underneath, she’d pulled on his sweater - yet again - and Richie’s gloves which were miles too big for her hands.

“Next time, I’ll find somewhere warm for us to talk?” He teased,

“That’d be ideal, thanks. So what’s up?”

“Just thought we should… y’know, check in?”

“After Saturday night?”

“Yeah. You ok?”

“Well, it’s a little weird. And totally fucked up. But I don’t want to go back to barely speaking to you. Like, I’ll put up with this insane awkwardness just so I don’t have to avoid you.”

“I hated when you avoided me.”

“Me too.” She said, studying the broken glass shards mingling with the concrete on the ground.

“I broke up with Claire.” She didn’t look up, but he saw her eyes widen a little.

“Oh. How’d it go?”

“About as well as you’d expect.”

“Yeah.” She breathed, puffs of air visible. They fell silent again. 

“And I had a really good talk with Nat. About, like, fuckin’ parental trauma and all that shit and how it effects us as we get older? It’s fucked up.”

“It is. I’ve talked to her about it before as well.” He looked up, surprised, “You weren’t talking to her. Not really. Or not listening, at least. She just wanted to feel heard.” He nodded, 

“I just… I want you to know that I want to be a better person. I know I’ve said it a million fucking times, I was always trying to do it for someone else though? I thought I should be doing it for you or Nat, but I should be doing it for myself.”

“You can’t be better for us if you’re not doing it for yourself. My dad’s sister always said you can’t pour from an empty cup.” She mused. 

“How do you do it?” He asked, curiously.

“I listen to my heart. Figure out what it needs. I watch movies with my dad, I laugh with my friends in there,” she pointed into the restaurant, “I cook for them. I cook for you or Nat or my dad. I hang out with Mikey. I watch you cook. I let my family look after me and love me when I need it. Like you said, I love taking care of people, but it’s nice to have it returned.”

“You’re too fuckin’ smart for this place.”

“Fuck off,” she pushed his shoulder, 

"You watch me cook?"

"Yeah, I do. It's… therapeutic. Oh, and if you think that just because you broke up with Claire I’m gonna jump -”

“I would never expect that. Never. Let’s just… get back to where we were and then see what happens?” He suggested, taking her hand. She nodded,

“Great idea, Chef.” He kissed her palm and listened to Tina singing from the kitchen.

*

Carmy could tell Richie was about to hit the roof. He bounced on his heels and fidgeted for the last hour of service but everytime someone asked, he’d give them the brush off. 

“Chef, could you tell Richie to take a step back please?” Syd sighed, rolling her eyes at Richie who was standing so closely behind her she could hardly use her knife. Carmy laughed,

“C’mon cousin, back it up. Whatever it is, why don’t you just tell us?”

“Can’t, we need to wait til we’re closed.” 

“Well then get the fuck outta our kitchen and encourage people to finish up?” Carmy smiled at Syd’s use of our kitchen.

“Fine, fine but you guys wait. You just fuckin’ wait.” 

“Can I have another 3 duck and 2 sirloin please?”

“Yes, Chef.” The crew chimed back to him. Tina brought the plum sauce over for him to try,

“Needs something, Syd, check this?” He handed her a spoon,

“Half a teaspoon of the winter spice mix.”

“Exactly. Thank you. Tina, you ok with that, Chef?”

“Sure thing Jeff.”

“Let it incorporate for another five minutes, we’ve got time.”

“Make it eight minutes, Chef? My dauphinoise are fucked.” Syd asked, shooting her potatoes a look of disdain.

“Heard Chef. Eight minutes, Chefs.” He looked over at Syd, “Yo, you good?”

“Yeah, too much garlic.”

“No such thing!” At least three people replied, including Carmy.

“I’ll save it for you then, Chef.” She smiled at him over the pass. Richie bounced back and forth with plates and information until he was finally able to lock the front door. He burst back into the kitchen as Syd and Carmy were sharing the extra garlicky dauphinoise.

“Here we go.” Carmy murmured, receiving an elbow to the ribs.

“What you got for us Richie?” She asked, pointedly ignoring Carmy.

“Would you like to hear a review?”

“From?”

“A Mrs Beata Jerimovich, my wonderful grandmother -” Carmy threw a towel at his head, 

“Fuckin’ dipshit.”

“Kidding, kidding. It’s only the motherfuckin’ Food and Beverage Magazine!” There were whoops and cheers all round, but next to him, he felt Syd tremble. He discreetly brushed her little finger with his own and heard her sigh softly. “Ahem!” Richie cleared his throat, “The Bear, Chicago…” he held them in suspense, Marcus beat a drumroll on the counter while Tina bellowed at Richie,

“Richie, fuckin’ tell us, pendejo!”

“Five. Fuckin’. Stars. Chefs!” They were euphoric. Manny and Angel banged pots together, Tina wrapped her arms around Syd and Richie hugged Carmy. As soon as he saw Tina let go of her, he first reached out for the shorter woman who patted his cheek, and then for Syd. He counted down from 10 in his head so as not to hold onto her for too long. He made every second count. His senses clambered to be reminded of the softness of her skin, the fullness of her lips, how perfectly her body fit against his. He felt rather than heard the faintest moan drag from her body as his lips grazed her earlobe, and then he reluctantly let her go. “If you’ll allow me to read some of it to you, Chefs?” Carmy leaned back on the counter and felt Syd do the same next to him, innocently close to those around them but the smallest amount closer than she had been standing before. He let his arm rest against hers and let their knees knock gently together as Richie spoke. “I had the wonderful experience of dining at The Bear around a month ago, during the first week of their festive menu. It was a Saturday night and they had been fully booked for months… Hey, wasn’t that the weekend of bad dates? Fish guy is still salty that he can’t get a date around here anymore.” Carmy locked eyes with Syd, she bit her lip to hide her small smile. 

“Good, I’m sure he’s working on a wonderful relationship with his right hand.” She pointed out to sniggers.

“Hey, I object to that.”

“Gross Richie, carry on please?”

“Ok, ok. I tried the spiced pumpkin soup with plaice, the scallop ceviche, the duck in plum sauce and blah blah blah, those are the new dishes, looks like they tried everything though, man. Ok, here we go, here we go - the food was nothing short of miraculous. Every element and ingredient held its own, the service was personal and impeccable, the atmosphere was joyous.” He paused for long enough for the squeals of delight to die down, struggling to be heard, “Exec Chef, Carmen Berzatto - formerly of Noma and The French Laundry - and his partner, CDC Sydney Adamu, have created close to perfection. Whatever their secret is, may they hold onto it. I am already booked back for another visit, my only disappointment is that I have to wait 6 months for it! If they aren’t already looking at this spectacular place for recognition in March, the Michelin guide needs to get it on their list very quickly. A star certainly cannot be too far out of reach.” Richie’s voice quivered with emotion, “It goes on and on… that’s us, man. This is talkin’ about us.” He said, holding the magazine aloft. “I fuckin’ love you guys.” Syd pushed herself off the counter and into his arms. He leaned down to rest his forehead against hers, “you did that, Chef. You fuckin’ did that.” He said to her, “fuckin’ love you Syd.” There was another mass movement of people clinging to each other. Carmy noticed Syd slip into the walk-in once Richie had let her go. He got caught up with Ebra and Marcus before he could get there,

“You good, Chef?” She was leaning against the back wall with her head in her hands, she nodded without moving them, “in front.” He whispered once he was standing directly in front of her, not wanting to startle her. She threw her arms around his neck, he could feel her tears in the neckline of his jacket and wrapped his arms around her tightly. 

“Thank you.” She said, her warm breath against his collar. He laughed,

“No, this is all you, baby. All you.” She pulled away from him, allowing him space which he used to wipe the tears from her cheeks. “C’mon, Tina’s looking for you.” He told her, knowing there were too many eyes outside for them to be alone. She went for the door handle but it was pulled from her reach and Richie joined them,

“I’m only in here so that when you both leave, it doesn’t look like you’ve been makin’ out in here, ok?”

“Richie, I came in here so I didn’t cry in front of everyone.” Syd told him, giving him a gentle shove.

“Seriously? Fuck me, I wish I’d been right first time. Syd, honey, I bawled my eyes out - they’re all cryin’ out there. No one cares!”

“Fuck, I’m not tellin’ em when we get Syd’s star. That’s on you, cuz.” Carmy pointed to Richie. 

“Can we stop talking about stars? And stop calling it mine?  I’m gonna hurl.”

“No, no hurling, we’re goin’ out. Tina wants shots and karaoke.”

“Oh fuck no. No shots.” Syd pushed between them to get out of the walk-in.

“It’s a yes to karaoke though, right?” Richie called out, following her. Clean down had never been so fast or willingly taken on, Manny turned up the radio and the atmosphere was electric. Anyone crossing the room was hindered by hugs along the way and no one seemed to want to let go of each other. Carmy looked out at the crew and for what felt like the first time in forever, didn’t mask his smile or hide his emotions. The door to the office was partially closed and he couldn’t see Syd so he knocked softly. He heard his sister’s voice via Facetime.

“I swear to god Syd, this is so exciting! Michelin are gonna come knocking. I can tell. They might have already been!”

“I hope they didn’t come before November, it’s gonna be that plum sauce that clinches it.” She smiled at Carmy as he came in and joined her on the screen, 

“Carmy! I’m so proud, I wish I could be there to celebrate with you all.”

“It’s just a review, Nat.”

“But it’s an incredible review, and that magazine is, like, insane! It’s a precursor to more, trust me.” He stood close to Syd, leaning down over her shoulder so they could both fit into the video call, his cheek almost pressed against hers. "This right here,” she held up Mikey, “100% of The Bear right in this call! Ok, you guys go have fun. I am so ridiculously proud of you both and I love you both so much.”

“Love you sis, see you later.” Syd smiled, Nat’s eyebrows raised a little as Carmy turned to look at her.

“Bye guys.” She hung up the call with a smile. 

“Sorry, I just thought she’d want to know and I knew they’d never let you escape. I’m amazed Tina has let you go.”

“Yeah, me too. She’s stronger than she looks.”

“Right?! It’s crazy! Are we done out there?” She stood from the desk,

“Yeah, we’re heading out now.”

“Ok, I’m on my way then.” She cocked her head towards the door, “C’mon. I suspect the first round is gonna be on us.”

“Did you just call Nat, sis?”

“Yeah,” she shook her head, “never underestimate the strength of female friendships, Carm.” She told him sagely, leaving him alone in the office.

*

The bar was hot and crowded, standard for a Saturday night. The karaoke was predictably awful, and Richie was wandering between the three booths they'd managed to grab trying to get people to sign up and sing. Carmy was grateful for the spare jeans and t-shirt he kept in his locker, and it turned out nearly everyone else kept some kind of 'to go' bag either at work or with them, ready for those magical evenings where they finished early, had a date after work or got 5 star reviews in one of the biggest hospitality industry magazines in the world. He was pinned into his booth by Ebra on one side and Neil on the other, both talking over the table to each other and leaving him stuck. Tina was talking Marcus into a duet and it looked like Gary, Manny and Angel were playing some obscure drinking game. Richie had an arm slung over Syd’s shoulder and pointed to the stage with his beer. The combination of humor and terror on her face as she tried to decline his offer of a song was currently making his night. He watched her pinch Richie's stomach and move out of his grip, laughing at him as she hopped into the seat next to Neil to get away. 

"Whatcha singin', CDC Sydney?" Fak asked.

"I'm not Fak, but Rich is desperate for a partner on Cruel Summer if you think you can handle it?"

"I can do that!" He exclaimed, "Syd, I can nail that bridge, I fuckin' hand to God… I'm gonna do it!" She moved to let him out and raised her beer to Richie in support of his new karaoke partner. He was about to take advantage of Syd sitting next to him when Ebra pulled him into a far-fetched story he'd probably heard a million times before. He stuck around long enough to listen to Tina and Marcus and Richie and Fak before leaving enough cash for another round and saying his goodbyes. He sat in the car for 10 minutes, phone in his hand, weighing up the pros and cons of texting Syd. He decided against it and put the car into gear, before a tap at the passenger side window stopped him. 

"You ok? I thought you left ages ago?" Syd asked with concern. 

"Uhh yeah, I was uhh… y’know what, jump in." She did and immediately put her hands to the air vents already pushing warm air through the car. 

"So, you were what?"

"Trying to decide whether to send you a message and see if you want to cook tomorrow." 

"I'd love to," she nodded, "at the restaurant?"

"Or my place? You could always…"

"Take the couch?"

"Yeah. Or I could." She glanced down at her phone, seemingly weighing up her own pros and cons. 

"OK, let's go." He made his way through the dark streets, finding a space a few meters from the main door of his building. He led the way up and unlocked the door, letting her in first so he could lock up behind her.

"You sure you wanna stay?"

"I'm sure. Yo, it looks great in here, Carm?"

"Thanks. I thought I should start making it feel a bit more like home, y'know? Cleared up, no more denim in the oven,"

"For real?" She asked, opening the door to check, "Fuck me, Carmy that's… that's good." He felt the blush bloom in his cheeks. Since he'd decided to deep clean the place over a month ago, the night before he ended things with Claire, he'd slowly been emptying boxes, hanging pictures and sorting through his cookbooks. "Dude, is that a fucking plant?" She asked, looking to the kitchen window.

"It's been alive for a whole month." Not just alive, it had been half dead when he'd brought it, so he'd actually brought it back from the brink.

"A better man, huh?'

"Trying." He offered with a shy shrug. "Beer?" 

"Please. Netflix?" She asked, loading up the cooking shows, 

"Yeah, there's one I haven't seen yet, Nadiya?"

"Oh, she's so great! You'll love it." She put the first episode on and clinked bottles with him as he sat next to her. "I need to watch Salt Fat Acid Heat." She muttered, he watched her add the note to her phone before crossing her legs and focusing on the screen. It didn't take long before he was reaching out for his sketchpad and looking around for a pen. She pulled one from the knot of her bun and handed it over without looking. 

"Rhubarb glaze." He stated. She moved to kneel next to him so she could look at his drawing. Her hand came to rest on his shoulder to keep herself from falling forwards. 

"In the spring? Change up the duck dish and serve it with something super fresh?" 

"Like a slaw." He suggested, she nodded slowly,

"Like a slaw." She didn't look away from the sketch, "Fuck. You really are so fucking good at this Carm." She said, barely above a whisper. 

"You make me better at it." He countered. She absentmindedly rubbed the cotton of his t-shirt between her thumb and index finger. He hesitated before reaching out to cup her cheek and turn her face towards his. She leaned into his palm. He watched her eyes close, a trembling breath on her lips as he leaned in to kiss her briefly. Her hand on his shoulder gave her some leverage to turn and straddle his lap. She stayed further back though, not bringing their bodies flush. She sat back on his knees, 

"I don't want to do this if -"

"You're not ready?" He finished.

"Me? I meant you. You've been doing so much better this last month. I don't want to fuck that up for you?"

"You couldn't."

"So you… we could…?"

"We could just take things easy and see what happens? Have some,"

"Fun? We could both stand to have some fun."

"Exactly. No pressure." His hands rested lightly on the top of her thighs. 

"No pressure." She repeated, sliding deeper into his lap until their chests were pressed together. He waited for her nod of agreement before kissing her again. She hummed with approval, her head tilting to slot against him perfectly. His tongue swept across her lower lip, demanding access which she willingly gave. His hands moved to squeeze her hips, and she let out a needy whimper he knew he’d spend the rest of the night trying to get from her again. He bit her lip lightly as she ground down against him. “Bed this time.” She mumbled against his neck, “please Carmy, now.” He could feel the reluctance radiate off her as she considered letting go of him long enough to stand so they could move. He stood quickly with her in his arms, making her squeal in surprise. They made it the handful of steps to his bedroom where he sat her on the edge of the bed and knelt between her knees. She was bathed in the streetlight from the window, but it wasn’t enough so he clicked on a small faint lamp at the bedside. He tugged the hem of her top up over her head and she lay back to unbutton her jeans and lift her hips to slide them off, he brushed her hands away and pulled the tight denim down her legs. He rose to climb over her on the bed and she moved further back into the center, reaching for his t-shirt. He unclipped her bra and pulled it off before covering her body with his own pressing kisses along her collarbone. He could feel her heart racing against his chest as he chased each breathy moan that fell from her lips. He kissed a hot path down her body, cataloging every noise she made. He took his time, savoring the way she responded to his touch,

“You’re so beautiful,” he marveled, grateful at last to have her where he could actually see her. He paused with his chin on her stomach to look up at her. She’d covered her face with one hand, suddenly bashful. He reached out to link their fingers, gently encouraging her to look at him, “this ok?” He felt her body shudder as her breath hitched, she nodded. “Need to hear you say it, baby.”

“Fuck you,” she huffed out a tiny laugh, “please, I want this. I want you.” 

“I need to taste you, Syd, please?” He hooked his fingers into the waistband of her underwear and slid them down her thighs. He nudged her knees further apart and looked back up at her, holding eye contact as he swept his tongue into her folds and circled her clit. Her back arched off the bed and he used his free hand to hold her still. It was akin to worship, every touch designed to bring her closer to the edge. He’d spent years learning the art of consistency and this was no different, he filed away every sigh, every grip of the sheets and every moan of his name. She practically wailed his name as she came, and he watched her come down, boneless from her first orgasm. He let her think he was done before he went back for more. By the time she was pulling him back up the bed to her, the need to have his skin against hers was sinful.

“Jesus fuck, Carmy,” she panted, reaching out to kiss him. He was painfully hard and he knew she could feel him against her. She tried to undo his jeans with shaking hands, giving up with a frustrated groan. He took over and pushed the denim off, giving her the opportunity to push him onto his back. “Condom?” She whispered, still breathless. She reached past him to the drawers by his bedside to grab one as he bit the underside of her breast. He took the condom from her and ripped it open, rolled her onto her back once more and pushed into her in long, slow strokes, his whole body weighted against hers. The closeness was both intense and intimate, and when he kissed her it felt so much like a promise it was almost overwhelming. He held her tightly, pressing her into the mattress as he fucked into her deliriously slowly, lewd noises filling the air. Her legs wrapped around him, holding him against her. He felt her walls flutter around him, she sighed his name as she came again,

“F-fuck, Syd,” he rasped, shuddering against her as he came. He moved just far enough off her so that he didn’t crush her as his arms gave out, his chest heaving.

“Oof,” she huffed as his weight pinned her to the bed. She ran her fingers through his hair and down his back as far as she could reach before gliding back up again. 

“Fuck, that was… wow.” His breath tickled her neck as he spoke,

“Yeah.”

“Should move.”

“Yeah, no, I can’t do that.” He mumbled an apology and moved off her completely, tying off the condom and throwing it to the bathroom. He pulled her to him as he got back into bed, asleep almost instantly.

He woke alone to the light streaming in from the windows, noting that their discarded clothes had been picked up and a damp towel hanging over the bathroom door. He pulled on boxers and a clean t-shirt and went through to find their beer bottles disposed of and the TV off. He vaguely recalled waking briefly in the night to the quiet sounds of a cooking show, but he’d been so warm and relaxed that he didn’t think to move and turn it off. Not that he’d have been able to with Syd buried into his side. He followed the sounds in the kitchen where she had her back to him, looking after whatever she was cooking. 

“Hey, mornin’” He said, voice still heavy with sleep. She turned with a shy smile, wearing his t-shirt from the previous night and little else.

“Hi, did I wake you?”

“No, no way. You making breakfast?”

“Thought I’d bring it to you in bed, but -”

“I can go back,” he joked. She turned back to the pan and cracked four eggs into it. He moved to stand behind her, hands on her hips and his head in the crook of her neck. “Shakshuka?” 

“Yeah. Imagine my surprise when I opened your fridge to find it fully stocked.” She laughed.

“Told ya, I’m trying.”

“I legit spent twenty minutes trying to decide what to make you.” She turned down the heat on the pan and twisted in his arms. “Did you sleep ok?” 

“Yeah, I think I might have figured out the secret.”

“To sleep?” He nodded, kissing along her jawline.

“You.” 

“Pfft, shut the fuck up.” He pulled them backwards so he could sit at one of the dining chairs, bringing her down into his lap with her legs either side of his. “Hmm don’t get any ideas, I don’t think this chair will survive.” It creaked under them as if in response as she squirmed in his lap.

“How long on breakfast?” He asked pulling the t-shirt over her head,

“Long enough.” She confirmed, reaching out to turn the stovetop off completely.

*

“Baby, you look all flushed, you good?” He heard Tina ask Syd as she finished off the canapes.

“Yeah T, just warm.”

“You look beautiful, don’t get anything down your dress!” She warned, Syd had tugged an apron over her dress but had left it untied. As she moved along the counter piping blinis with sour cream, the thigh split opened further. He turned away as Tina looked at him with a curious eye,

“I’m gonna unlock, Chef?” He asked,

“Ok, sure. I think we’re good.” She turned to the servers with a nod and took the apron off, throwing the piping bag into the sink. 

“Let’s party!” Tina beamed, leaving Syd to turn off the lights and join her in the restaurant.

Syd’s dad took another canape as the tray passed by them, Carmy shook his head as the server offered the tray to him as well. 

“These are incredible.” Her dad beamed,

“Aren’t they? She was working on them until about a minute before we opened the doors.”

“Sounds like Sydney.” He chuckled, “I’m sorry I didn’t get to meet you on Family night. It was a very special night.”

“Yes Sir, it was. I had some things to take care of in the kitchen though, so I didn’t spend any time out here. I'm sorry I missed you, it's good to meet you at last.”

“I guess that’s the trouble when you’re the one in charge, you don’t get to enjoy the spoils.”

“Fortunately I’ve got everything I need back there.” Carmy replied with a smile. They both watched Syd in a beautiful one-shoulder copper coloured dress as she crossed the room to speak to Tina’s family. She studiously avoided eye contact with either of them and instead got swept up with talking to Tina’s elderly mother. She dropped down onto her haunches to bring herself below eye level to the woman, and held her hands. He took in her taut calf muscles in her heels and the curve of her thigh as the dress pulled tightly. He was flooded with the memory of taking it off her earlier in the evening as she was trying to get ready, her hands swatting him away before pulling him back in. The reason they were late and the reason she was still in the kitchen as they opened. 

“She’s really something. I wish her mama could have seen her.”

“She is. You must be very proud.”

“I am. I hope you’re good to her?”

“I’m sorry?”

“She tells me she’s staying with friends two, three - sometimes even four nights a week. You and I both know that her closest friends are in this room right now, and I don’t think she’s singing lullabies to your nephew four nights a week.” He chuckled as the blush crept across Carmy’s face. “I may be an old man, but I’m not blind.” He put a hand on Carmy’s arm, “thank you for believing in her.”

Her laugh sounded around the room as she pushed back up to standing and turned to talk to Pete who’d lightly tapped her arm. She nodded at whatever he’d said and made her way back past them towards the kitchen. Her dad managed to catch her hand just before she stepped out of reach,

“Honey, Carmen and I were just talking about everything you’ve both achieved here. It’s tremendous.”

“Thanks Dad, I’ve just got to see Richie about something. Can I come back to you in a few minutes?”

“Take your time sweetheart. I’ll be right here.” He smiled, Marcus coming over to talk. Carmy managed to catch her eye briefly with a small smile. She made her way to Richie who was holding court near the center of the room. Christmas songs filled the air and he was once again forced to admit that Nat had been right - a less formal Christmas party for family and friends had been the right way to go. She took Richie’s arm, but he grabbed her hand instead and spun her around, twirling her under his arm and pulling her into some empty space to dance. She tried to pull away, laughing, but let him spin her a couple of times and dip her before she could escape. With Syd’s dad in deep discussion with Marcus, Carmy went through to the kitchen to check what was left in the walk-in. The heavy door swung partially closed behind him and he heard the tap of Syd’s heels as she came through the swing doors not far behind him. He went to call out to her, but Nat’s voice spoke up.

“You can’t escape out here, Syd!” “I just need a minute, my feet are killing me. C’mon, gimme a break.” He could almost hear rather than see Nat roll her eyes.

“Fine, you can hold Mikey while I go to the bathroom before I feed him." Nat rushed past the walk-in to the staff bathroom. 

“What’s the time baby Bear? How long til I can be in Uncle Carm’s bed again, huh?” She muttered, bouncing the increasingly hungry baby. “Are you ready for bed too? Party animal.”

“I thought about a sitter but then I figured, it’s family night?” Nat said, coming back in and taking Mikey. “Oh, he should be here for sure.”

“You ok?” He heard Nat ask, softly. "You've barely stopped all night?" He could hear her settle Mikey and the baby fell silent.

“Yeah. If I tell you something can you promise not to lose your shit?”

“I can try?”

“So Carmy and I have been… hanging out. And it’s good, and I don’t want to push him too fast too soon on anything,”

“Wait, hanging out somewhere other than here?”

“Yeah. Like, his apartment… specifically.” Syd wrung her hand together, presumably waiting for Nat to catch up.

“Ok, so what’s new about that? Oh. Oh! Fuck! You guys are hanging out hanging out?”

“There we go. Yep, that’s what’s been happening.”

“Since when?!”

“About a month ago? Not long. Long enough?”

“So what’s the problem?”

“There isn’t one, I guess? I just… What if it all goes horribly wrong? What if this ruins everything? For all of us, I mean. It could ruin both of our careers, could kill this place? Everyone I love is in that room -” she paused, “I don’t want to push him, but I also kind of want to know how he sees all of this… ending up?”

“Syd, relax. I guarantee if you look into that room right now, he’ll be the happiest you’ve ever seen him,” Carmy frowned, hoping they didn’t actually look for him, “that’s because of this place. Because of you, honey.” 

“I guess…”

“I know. The good thing about doing this together, is that you’re in this together. Don’t stress, whatever happens happens. I mean, look at you! You’re the CDC of one of the hottest new restaurants, it’s your Christmas party and yet you’re in the kitchen in your dress and heels making sure everything is as it should be. There is nothing at all that you can’t do. You’re nothing short of incredible, you’re a force of nature Syd. If I had to bet on one thing, it’s that you have Carmen’s complete support in everything you do. I fucking love you.” He heard the shuffle of fabric, and from Syd’s muffled response, assumed they were hugging.

“Thank you, I love you too. Maybe you’re right.”

“I keep telling you both this, I’m always right. Now please, let’s go drink some more champagne and have some fun. You’re not wasting that dress in this kitchen. Jesus, I can't believe I didn't realise you're fucking my brother!” He heard the door swing and sighed, leaving the walk-in to go out back for a smoke.

*

“Cousin, yo, what’s goin’ on - you comin’ back in?” Richie stuck his head out a few minutes later, breaking the silence.

“Yeah man, I just needed to burn one.” He held one out for Richie who came to join him and let the door shut. “It’s goin’ ok, right?”

“Carm, it’s fuckin’ amazing. I am legit so fuckin’ proud of this place and everyone in it. You an’ Syd, man, you guys have made this place.”

“S’good you two get on now.”

“Aww she’s pretty great. Don’t fuckin’ tell her I told you.” He warned,

“I think she knows, dude. If it makes you feel any better, she was tellin’ me this morning that the nights you do expo are her favorite.”

“Fuckin’ knew it!” He laughed, then paused suddenly, “Wait, how’d you see her this morning?” Carmy felt Richie’s eyes scouring his face, widening in shock “No fuckin’ way, cuz!”

“I meant last night. Here. At work.”

“Bull fuckin’ shit. How long?”

“About a month. The night we got that review?”

“I mean, I thought you guys were eye fuckin’ over the pass, like, a little more than normal… but I did not expect that. Fuck, I owe Fak 20 bucks.”

“Great, thanks.” 

“Hey man, don’t be mad at me. Are you… I dunno, are you happy?”

“I think I might be, yeah. Feels fuckin’ weird.”

“I bet. And Syd? She good?”

“I think she’s happy, yeah.”

“You in love or what?”

“I think I might be, cuz. I just… how do I know if I'm ready? Like, what if we fuck this place up?”

“No one is every fuckin’ ready, man. Never. And what if you make this place even better?” Carmy let the thought sink in, “Like, separately you’re both freaky fuckin’ geniuses and together it’s, like, even better. I know you’ve been on that ‘self care bein’ better for yourself’ kick cos you feel like you don’t deserve her,” Carmy sighed, “but you complete each other, cuz. There’s no other fuckin’ way to say it.”

“Fuck me, Richie, you should get a fuckin’ talk show.”

“Fuck you. I’m bein’ nice to you for once in your damn life.”

“I know, I’m still in shock.” They nudged each other. “I should tell her, right?”

“Yeah man, you should tell her.”

“Thanks cousin. Hey, don't say anything to her, yeah? That you know? She’s really stressed and I don’t want to make it fuckin’ worse.”

“Nah man, my lips are sealed. Love you dude, we’re gonna build a fuckin’ empire here.” Richie grasped his shoulder and joined their foreheads.

“Heard, Chef. Let it fuckin’ rip.”

“Anything for you, cuz.”

*

Though Carmy was right behind Richie going back into the party, he wasn’t quick enough. He entered through the swing door just in time to see Richie smile graciously at Syd and her dad before taking her elbow and pulling her to one side. He leaned down to talk in her ear. Carmy saw the way her eyebrows flew up to her hairline and the panic that crossed her face as she tried to pull away from him. She caught his eye briefly as Richie leaned down again and continued to talk, as he did so, she visibly started to relax. 

“Your CDC is something fierce Carmy.” Uncle Jimmy said, handing him a beer. Carmy laughed,

“Yeah, she is pretty great.” They watched as Richie was joined by Nat and the baby, with Pete hovering beside them, Syd took the baby and held him to her like a human shield as they laughed together.

“I gave baby Mikey my 1% for a reason, you know?”

“Oh yeah?”

“This place, it’s 100% Berzatto. It has to be, Carmy.”

“Syd’s not a Berzatto, Unc,” Carmy raised his beer to his lips,

"Well yeah, not right now. But she will be. I could tell when you all came creeping for $500k. She matches your ethics, your outlook. She's your equal. I mean, look at her," They watch her with the family, with Richie and the team, with Nat and the baby, even with Pete. “She’s already a Berzatto. You might want to rescue her before they scare the shit outta her though?”

“Nah, she’s got it. She’s fuckin’ fearless. That’s why I love her,” he shrugged. Jimmy beamed, clapping him on the back,

“He’d be so proud of this, Carmen. He really would.”

“Thanks Uncle Jimmy.” He picked up a glass of wine from one of the trays and took it over to Syd who swapped him for the baby. “Can we try and get out of here for a sec?” He asked quietly. She nodded once and he passed Mikey to Pete. He followed her to the kitchen. Their kitchen. 

“So Richie knows?” She sighed,

“Is that a bad thing?”

“Nat knows as well,” she admitted, “I told her earlier.”

“Your dad too.” He said with a sheepish grin,

“Oh my god.” She muttered, “how?!”

“I guess we’re shitty at hiding it? I know we said about just taking it easy and no pressure but,” he caught the frown that crossed her face,

“Fuck. I knew it, I knew it. This is why I said we had to stop, and now everyone fucking knows and it’s all gonna -” she stepped away from him

“No, Syd, fuck you’re so fuckin’ impatient. Would you just,” he took her hand, “would you let me finish? Please?” He sighed, dragging a hand through his curls. “I would go to the fuckin’ ends of the earth for you if that’s what you wanted. I don’t care about easy, or too much fuckin’ pressure, I only want you, and I want to be by your side when you take over the world and get three bullshit fucking stars - not just one. I can’t do this without you and I don’t want to, and I know I said that before but it was because I was too much of a fuckin’ coward to tell you that I’ve been in love with you since the day you walked in here.” She stared at him. Didn't say a word, just stared. "Syd?"

"Are you sure?" She asked eventually, still wary. He closed the gap between them again and took her hand. 

"Am I… am I sure?" He laughed, "Yeah sweetheart, I'm fuckin' certain. And I will spend every day proving it to you if you'll let me?" 

"I think I could live with that." She said softly. 

"Yeah?" His hands slipped around her waist, drawing her closer. 

"Yeah. The most excellent chef, occasionally a piece of shit," she teased.

"Only occasionally now? I'll take that," he smirked. 

"Occasionally a piece of shit, rarely a total dickbag, thankfully," she assured him. "the best former CDC, now Exec Chef I've ever seen?" she leaned into him with a contented sigh as he kissed her. "I love you too."

"Thank you for showing me that none of this is a waste of time." He kissed her again, the stainless steel counter cold through the thin fabric of her dress. She broke the kiss, breathless, and looked over his shoulder and out to the restaurant. Their restaurant. 

FIN

~~~~~~

[chronic-ghost]

Chapter 1 of Recovery Road

chapter rating (this will change!): T

pairing: dieter bravo x f!reader

word count: 6444

chapter summary: dieter joins the production of an old friend and meets his new co-star

chapter warnings/tags: discussions of addiction/rehab, smoking, cursing, angst, no use of y/n, named reader but no physical descriptions other than hairstyle/clothing, adult language

a/n: Highly recommend reading the AO3 version. I've been working on doing some fun things with formatting work skins, so please check that out! My FC for Heidi is Sarah Goldberg and Timothy Olyphant as Mark, but yours doesn't have to!

▲ Series Masterlist | Next

▲ AO3 Link

“Despite the meteoric success of their first and only film together, Recovery Road, neither Dieter Bravo nor Natalie Lorraine were present when the film won the Oscar for Best Picture that year— an oddity for the main leads of such a critical and commercial darling. Cobbled together from stories from other cast members, director’s cut commentary, and straight up rumors, there is no clear cut picture of what happened to prevent the two stars from basking in the rewards of the film’s success. Perhaps in twenty years, if we’re all still around and the internet monolith continues to chug forward, we’ll get some tell-all documentary on Netflix where all things will be revealed. Blood shed. Lives lost. The whole shebang. Until then, you can find this old reviewer sitting up in his attic rewatching one of the most poignant and moving depictions of love and addiction we’ve gotten in the last three decades. Recovery Road is not, nor has it ever been, one to miss.” - John Michael David, Rolling Stone, “Why Recovery Road Still Stays With Us Today”

It’s getting hot inside the car. 

If he was going to sit this long in the fucking car, he should have left it running. Summers in LA are sneaky. Desert air is cold in the dark, but piercing in the day. He had purposefully parked in the shade, but it was still too much. He feels sweat break out across his hairline and he knows that won’t be a good look. He needs to look completely put together, completely at ease, relaxed. Unflinching. Unrufflable. Like he does tai chi every thirty minutes and can harmonize with the universe during rush hour traffic. 

He’s got to keep it together. 

But he can’t take his fucking palms down from his eyes. The heel of his hands dig into his eye sockets and for all the pressure it builds, it feels good. The pressure flushes out every other thought in his head and he needs to go into this clear-headed. If he fucks up again, it’s not just his ass on the line. 

He wants to believe things are going to be different this time. He wants to believe he’s going to be different. He’s worked his ass off to get here – sweated and shook and vomited into his own lap as the withdrawals tightened every muscle in his body – and now he just needs this one chance. Chloe – patient, perfect Chloe – was counting on him. If she said he could do it, he probably could. 

His left hand, third finger, twinges and that’s what brings his hands down from his face. He looks at the ring there. That gold beautiful ring. A promise made real. He swallows. 

Today, it’s a table read. Done it a thousand times. He’s actually early, for fuck’s sake. He glances down, triple checking he’s not wearing slippers or that mangy robe. Jeans. Black shirt. Easy. Chloe warned against the rings, but he’d sooner part with those than his right hand entirely. Sure he fucked up, sure he was a fuck up, but there were parts of Dieter Bravo that just had a right to exist. People wouldn’t recognize him without his rings. 

He did cave about the earring though. 

You’re almost thirty-six, darling. Nobody but rockstars can wear earrings at that age. 

When he went into rehab, he was thirty-three. He had lost two years of his life in that prison and he was not about to do it again. He had left his sobriety token at home, but he wished he had it now, just for something to squeeze, something to soothe his feverish palm. Again, Chloe had quietly nudged him: “do we need to get you a fidget spinner, baby?”

He wanted to joke, “that’s what the adderall is for”, but given that his doctor was forced to prescribe him something else for his ADHD after they found a dozen empty pill bottles under his bed, it probably wasn’t all that funny. 

He breathes, counting down just like the nice lady at the rehab center taught him to. 

Your self-destructive habits formed out of necessity. It’s time to reshape them. 

Today, it’s just a table read. He can do this.

He pops the sunglasses out of their holder on the console and slips them over his eyes. He takes one more glance out of the rearview mirror, half-expecting to be staring down the long lens of a TMZ reporter. He grabs the script from the passenger seat, curls it under his fingers— and still doesn’t move.

He likes this script. He likes the writer, seen their work in the past and it rocks. It’s good. It’s a good part. It’s actually better than good. It’s Oscar bait, they say on the internet, and he has the lead part. An aging musician struggling to rebuild his life after a drug addiction ruined his band’s final tour. The scriptwriter didn’t actually say that he had Dieter in mind when he wrote the part, but Jesus– suffice it to say, he understood the material. 

The aging musician was going to help a young upstart find her way in the music scene. She joins the band. They flirt, they fuck, they fall in love, and everything is ruined by their own egos. End credits. Lights up. Oscar in his hand. 

He didn’t recognize the name of his co-star when his agent sent over the cast list. He honestly didn’t even ask about her. He knew the director, had worked with her in the past, and thought she had a real eye for scenecraft and a knack for finding that beating heart of a moment. He trusted her with casting the right part for his opposite, just as she had casted him. But it wasn’t even about her, his co-star– he was ready to dig in and see what the director could pull out of him. 

And fuck, if it worked for RDJ, then it could work for him. 

This had to work for him. He feels the pressure return behind his eyeballs. 

“Fuck it,” he hisses and nearly kicks the door open. The script curled up in his hand like a baseball bat, Dieter Bravo strolls across the hot parking lot to the studio sound stage and into the rest of his life.

He is used to being stared at. He is used to all eyes on him, but not like this. This feels too much like that last party when the cops showed up and found all of his illegal prescriptions. It makes him itch.

The empty stage is filled mostly with crew and staff, setting up lighting and testing the sound recording. They’re all busy, getting ready for next week to start filming, but they all still have time to send him a worried glance. Because if he fucked up, they’d all be out of a job until shooting wrapped. They had enough courtesy to not actually whisper in front of him, but he knew exactly what they were saying just after he’s out of earshot:

“Oh, fuck, this is a Bravo flick? Shit, I gotta get another gig.”

“That asshole is here? Oh my God, this thing’ll be shut down in two weeks!”

“Fuck that guy and his stupid hair.”

Okay, that last one might have been projecting. He catches his own gaze in a pane of glass while he waits for the director’s assistant to return. His hair, despite his best attempts, would not lie flat, would not stay unrumpled. Another thing Chloe thought a man of his age shouldn’t have. 

He hasn’t seen another cast member and now he’s worried he got the time wrong and he’s missed it and he’s already started all of this off all wrong —

“Dieter! Oh my God, you’re here!”

Heidi, the director, beams at him so bright he actually feels himself go warm. She has her arms out open for him and he rushes to her, picks her up in his arms and twirls her. Her hair is back to her natural silvery blonde, cut short and kept out of her face with a tornado of bobby pins. He’s never seen her without her jean jacket, even at premieres. 

Early on in their careers, he found he had too much respect for her to try and sleep with her and they formed, over the years, the closest thing he could call a healthy relationship. She was like his sister, since his own didn’t seem like she’d ever pick up the phone again. 

It also helped that she was a raging lesbian, happily married, and wouldn’t go near his dick for all the money at Warner Brothers Studios. 

“Dieter, you look so fucking good, dude.” She pats his face and scrunches up her nose, those black headphones knocking around her neck. “Fuck, it’s been too long.”

“I know, Di, I know.” He always liked that their nicknames sounded alike. Dee and Di. A team. “How’s Lucy?”

“Pfft, you know her. Taken the kids up to Canada for the summer. Says the trees are more ‘real’ there,” she says, rolling her eyes. “I miss the little buggers, but shit, it’s nice to have a quiet house.”

He laughs, the knot in his chest easing. “Before school starts up again, you’ll have to come by the new place.”

“Oh, shit, that’s right. You just moved back into the neighborhood, didn’t you? I heard about that. You and, uh . . .”

He hides the blush in the tips of his ears with his hand, acting like he’s scratching an itch on the side of his head. “Yeah, Chloe and I are still together. Been married for a little over two years now.”

At that, Heidi’s bright green eyes snap open wide. She nearly launches herself at him to grab his hand, gawking at the only gold ring on his finger. “Shutthefuckup. You got married?! You asshole, why wasn’t I invited?”

He swallows past the hard knot in his throat. “It was a small thing. Could hardly call it a party.” 

Heidi, as she usually does, takes not a lick of his bullshit. “Uh huh. Well, shit, I guess we have to double-date now.” 

“I’d like that.” He grins.

Her shock softens, and she punches his shoulder softly, her smile wide across her face. “You fuckin’ dork. I can’t believe you got married. Who knew Dieter Bravo would settle down?” 

He doesn’t know what to say to that, doesn’t know what’s going to come out of his mouth if he tries to answer, so he just shrugs. Her eyes linger on him for a second more, before looping her arm through his and leading him away from the stage. 

“So have you read the script?”

He nods eagerly. “Yep. The whole thing. Front to back. It’s fucking incredible, Heidi.” 

“Yes it is! There’s so much to work with. It’s a little hoity-toity for my taste in some places, but I think there’s a way to balance the shmaltz with genuine emotion, you know? The script, it’s so raw and real, I know you can get to those places.”

“Yeah, like I haven’t already,” he jokes off-handedly. They’re standing in the big open bay, where the crew can wheel in giant cranes for lighting or special effects, when Heidi freezes. A frown is growing over her face as though realizing something for the first time. A wind blows in and he thinks he can smell the desert in it.

“Oh, fuck, Dee,” she murmurs, not even looking at him. “This script, the material . . . you just got out of fucking rehab, and—,”

He shakes his head, a bit frantic. He’ll get on his hands and knees to let her keep him on this project. “Heidi, this is fine. I’m fine.”

He takes her by her shoulders and makes her look him in the eye. 

“I want this part. I want this part so fucking badly. I know I can do it too. I’m going to do this project and it’s going to blow your fucking socks off. You can count on me. I’m responsible now, I promise.”

At that, her green eyes soften. “Responsible and married? Who the fuck are you and what have you done with Dieter Bravo?”

Early on in their careers, she had also been right by his side, doing line after line of coke off hookers and strippers. But then she grew up. If she can have a family and a beautiful wife, then why can’t he? 

“Dee, look,” she says softly and touches the hand around her shoulder. “I’m not worried about any of that. I always knew you were something special, if you could just get out of your own way.” She glances away, shame making her mouth tick. “But I should have checked in more. I knew you were still in rehab, even after those times I called. I should have stayed in touch. I’m sorry.”

Something about her pity was unbearable. “Don’t. Please. It’s in the past. It’s over and I want to move on. This time, it’s going to be different.”

Heidi nods, smiling. “For sure, dude. We’ll do this together.”

He can fucking breathe again. She sees this and takes him by the arm, letting him get his feet under him. The air is warm, and Heidi’s hand is firm against his forearm. 

“I know the email said to meet at the sound stage, but everyone’s working out here, so I just put us in the back of the studio. Much more quiet. C’mon, I think I saw Mark’s car up front.”

She leads him to the next building, chattering on and on about the composer they got. How the music is gonna fuck so hard, they’re even trying to convince the studio to let them record a full fake album for the movie — “if you don’t wanna sing, Dee, that’s totally fine but I am begging you to do at least some of the guitar,” — and the building door opens.

It’s a squat building, probably more offices than anything to do with production, but it’s where Heidi is taking him, and the door opens. A man, much younger than he is, stumbles out, giddily laughing over his shoulder. He looks to be a PA of some kind — wiry, a little strung out, probably with dreams of writing the next Citizen Kane someday — but he’s looking at something over his shoulder. 

Or rather at someone. 

A woman, barely that but with all the cosmic designs of one, steps out after him. Her white cowboy boots hug just below her knee, her smooth legs, rich with the sun, curl up into a men’s white collared shirt. She walks and only a flash of denim shorts peek out from under the shirt. 

She isn’t laughing, but smirking. Knowing something this poor PA has no concept of. Her black aviators push her lush hair out of her face and her fingers glitter with silver jewelry. She’s smiling at the PA like a leopard seal smiles at lemmings. 

She chews something in the back of her teeth and then blows a bright pink bubble. The PA’s smile falls off his face as he watches, wide-eyed, the gum snaps in her mouth. 

Dieter immediately and, without question, dislikes her. Dislikes her so much, he can feel it burn in his chest.

Her wicked eyes slide from the PA, over his shoulder, and lands squarely on Dieter. She blinks. 

“Oh, hey, kiddo, you found the right place.” 

Heidi walks up to her and shakes her hand. That sharp-toothed glint in her eye is gone as she eagerly chats up Heidi, and the PA might as well have disappeared off the face of the earth. 

Heidi waves him over and it takes a full two seconds for him to remember how walking works. The sun is hot on his back. 

The woman — the girl — is looking him up and down, calculating and cool. As if she, unlike him, hasn’t quite made up her mind about what she thinks of him. 

Heidi waves a hand in between you two. She says your name and his mind suddenly locks onto it. He suddenly knows who you are before Heidi says it. He read it on the cast list. He hadn’t given it a second thought. 

“This is your new co-star, Natalie Lorraine. The other lead. You two will be working very closely together for the next couple of months.”

She’s stopped chewing gum. Either she swallowed it or tightly packed it to the back of her gums, because there’s no slur, no crumpled edge to her words, when she extends her hand and says:

“Hi, Dieter. Nice to meet you.” 

Your hand is soft in his and your lotion reminds him of lilac. 

Today is just a fucking table read.

He tries to unclench his jaw when he says, “nice to meet you too.” 

He’s on his third bottle of water and he’s eying the trashcan in the corner, wondering how discreetly he could throw away several plastic bottles before it looks weird. He’s got the script out in front of him on a long, white plastic table and a few people have stopped by to say hi. He had gotten up to stand and shake their hand, and several of them had blinked up at him, as if they had forgotten how tall he was, when he wasn’t hunched over, fighting a hangover. Heidi was gathering the last of the cast mates before the table read and had been gone for twenty minutes or so. Maybe — 

In the corner, she laughs, the sound brilliant and loud. In a world full of perfect, practiced laughs, hers is noticeable, but not entirely bad, and a few people turn to look at her. She’s got a hand on Mark Bronson’s arm, clearly delighted at something he said, and he is obviously starstruck. 

Dieter actively fights the scowl on his face. He’d known Mark for a while. Good guy, little vices, always put in the work. Been married to the same waitress he met out in Oregon on a shoot a decade and a half ago, and never once stepped out. Dieter had been thrilled to see him, to catch up on old times, Dieter purposefully making a joke that referenced the one time they were on that old cop show together when they first got to Hollywood. “Nobody would really believe we’re gangsters, now, eh, Dee?” Mark had said with a grin. “Too fuckin’ old.” 

Mark had stayed and talked and that again eased the tension in his chest. If Mark actually hated his guts, then the Oscar really should go to him.

But as more people filed in, he excused himself to catch up with one of the directors of the art department and Dieter had taken the opportunity to grab as many bottles as a reasonable person would from the cooler. He likes ice cold water. The colder, the better the burn. 

But here Mark is, sidled up to that girl, laughing it up like they were old friends. Traitor, he muses glumly, and thumbs the white plastic cap. He’s thought about Googling her — who the fuck is this girl — but didn’t know how to justify it if someone caught him.

The back door to the room opens and Heidi steps in.

“Alright, five minutes. Take your smoke breaks, your pee breaks, your whatever breaks. Hopefully not all at the same time, but I ain’t here to judge.” 

There’s a collective chuckle before everyone moves to take their seats. He keeps his eyes trained on the water bottle as bodies weave around him, chair squeaking as they are pulled out and sat on. The atmosphere is relaxed, easy, everything he wanted. So why is he so fucking tightly wound?

“Thirsty?” 

It takes him a second to unstick his gaze from the bottle. He knows you’re talking to him. 

He glances up at your face from under his lashes. You aren’t exactly smiling at him, but there’s a light in your eyes that feels . . . playful. What a normal, innocent question. But when he doesn’t respond, you lean forward on your elbows, your rings interlocking on your fingers. Your gaze drops his and nudges the two empty plastic bottles around his script.

“And there’s two more under your chair. So are you—,”

“I like to keep hydrated,” he says, cutting you off. “It’s summer in LA and . . . uh, it’s hot.” 

“Uh huh,” you reply, slowly. “Can I have one? You know, since it’s hot.”

His mouth twitches — get off your perky ass and get one yourself — but then he’s liable to see your bare legs again. And he knows a comment like that would get him some stares, which would not be good. 

He swears you know all of this too, by the way your eyes glitter at him, daring him. That’s the worst– he’s figured it out. You look at him from under your thick eyelashes like you want to play a championship round of Truth or Dare, but it would only ever be Dare. You want to see him dance on hot coals, eat a sword, kiss a snake. You want to watch him squirm and it’s so obvious, he clenches his jaw.

He swallows and bends down. He holds out the water bottle by the very end to you, but you somehow manage to brush your fingers up against his anyway. He doesn’t physically recoil but he feels like he needs to go wash his hands.

“Thank you,” you say as you unscrew the cap then drink heavily from the bottle. It’s halfway empty when you put it on the table. Your tongue laps up the water from your lip. 

He grunts as a response. You open your mouth to bother him further, when Heidi calls the start of the read. Dieter pulls his reading glasses out of his pocket, when he sees you’ve done the same. Silver, though, to his black, they’re perched on the edge of your nose, and you’re looking down at the script as if trying to divine lighting rods. You’re focused, the playful, tempting air gone, and there’s an intensity to your eyes that wasn’t there before. You look . . . almost normal. 

He slides his glasses on and looks back to his pages, the tips of his ears burning.

The table read goes well. 

Sort of. 

There’s a handful of scenes Heidi has picked out for the majority of the cast to read together. Mark does well, as the manager who is trying to hold all the egos together but struggling with demons of his own. He’s funny when he needs to be, but serious enough to flip a line read that deepens his character. God, he’s so fucking talented, Dieter thinks as the table laughs at one of his character’s jokes. 

The other members of Dieter’s band in the movie are made up of a few guys, two girls. They have a natural chemistry that makes it seem like they’ve been friends for years. Dieter makes a note to try and get to know them better as people off the set to hopefully find his own rhythm with them. A few smile at him as he’s doing his own line reading and he feels good about it. 

Everything is fine and easy, until there are a few scenes specifically between him and you.

You’re putting too much emotion into it for just a table read and it’s making him uncomfortable. These things are just to get to know everyone, to see how the cast can play off each other, but you’re out here acting like there’s cameras ten feet back. Have you ever even been to a table read before? Shouldn’t you know this?

After you deliver a heartfelt monologue about feeling lonely in the world, he hears a few sniffles. The two girls of the band are red-eyed and Mark is stone-faced. Even Heidi looks affected. 

What the fuck is going on? Is he the only one not swayed by your bullshit? 

All of a sudden, you take his hand from across the table, your eyes pouring into his and he’s caught off guard. 

“Tell me you understand,” you say, your voice wet with emotion. “Tell me you understand why you can’t ever leave me.”

He wets his lips and sits up straighter in his seat. He squeezes your hand, opening up the light in his eyes. Fine, two can play that fucking game.

“I’m no good for you, baby,” he croons. “There’s a million of me out there and only one of you.”

“But you’re the only one I want. The only one I need.” 

Fuck, you’re good. But he’s better. He turns your hand over, exposing your wrist to the cool air and thumbs your pulse gently. He smiles wistfully at you.

“What we want can kill us. I love you, darling, but that’s not enough.”

The room is silent.

He glances down and read the next stage action:

They meet in a passionate kiss.

His eyebrows raise and he glances back at you, halfway expecting you to throw yourself at him from across the table. 

But, no. Instead of looking at him with love in your eyes, you are fucking furious. Your mouth is pulled into a tight line and he can see you mentally picture strangling him.

“Alright—,” Heidi calls out, her voice gruff. “Alright, let’s move on. Page one-fifteen.” 

The room fills with the fluttering of paper and a few people sniff, rubbing their eyes.

You yank back your wrist out of his grip but don’t move to turn the page. And neither does he. 

Oh, you’re mad that I did the exact same thing you were doing, but better? Sorry, hot tits, you have no idea who you’re fucking with. Welcome to the real world.

You look like you want to sink your fangs into him. You’re kind of cute, with your nostrils flared, in that megalomaniac kind of way.

A woman to his right asks what page they’re starting on, and it forces him to break eye contact with you. He tells her and thumbs to the correct page himself, where Mark is having an argument with one of the guys in the band.

He glances up at you. Tension still lines your body but you aren’t looking at him anymore. In fact, you’re making a clear point not to. His chest soars. 

He is definitely counting that as a win.

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

After the reading, Mark came over and congratulated him again on getting the part. He makes sure Dieter has his number before saluting him and announcing he’s heading home for the night. The band is hanging out in the corner, but the talk dies down as he approaches. One of the guys looks positively horrified as he smiles and waves at them.

“You did a great job today,” he says to their half circle. He’s never seen anyone’s eyes so wide in their heads before. “Have you all worked together before?”

“We’re an actual band and you’re really Dieter Bravo,” one of the girls blurts out. Her friend, presumably, elbows her and she blinks as though slapped. “I mean, we play real music. We’ve been on the radio a few times . . . but you’ve probably never heard of us . . .” She trails off, glancing helplessly at her friends to make her shut up.

Her friend, a young woman with hair so red it had to have been fake, rolls her eyes. “We’re The Sixers. We started out here in LA and we’ve been on the strip a few times. Our agent said that it would be great publicity if we were in a movie.” 

“Oh, shit,” Dieter mutters, as surprised as they are, “The Sixers – yeah, I have heard of you before. I’m fucking old as hell, but I still listen to the radio.” 

“You’ll have to give us some acting pointers,” one of the other guys offers up, his hands in his jean pockets. He seems less obviously starstruck but trying to play it cool. 

“Only if you help me to remember how to play the guitar,” Dieter grins. 

“You know how to play?” The first girl gawks.

He winks at her. “When everyone else around me is too drunk to notice I’m terrible.” 

They laugh, the girl’s face whiter than a sheet, and then the redhead introduces everyone. “That’s Nick, Cooper, and Samuel. Our resident ghost here is Marie, and I’m Roxie.”

He vaguely wonders which of those are stage names, but is absolutely sure that’s not Roxie’s real name. But she seems like the kind of person who’d like it that way. 

“You all are in good hands with Heidi,” he nods to the director, who’s been chatting with Mark and the art director. “She’s a visionary and really knows her shit. You’re lucky you get to have her as your first director.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Cooper, one of the guys with legitimate beatnik hair, asks. 

Dieter nods. “Several times, actually. She’s fantastic.” 

“Have you worked with her before?” Roxie asks as you walk across the room to pick up your purse. Dieter can feel that burn in his chest again as you bend over. He shakes his head. 

“Is she new to the scene? Is that why she can’t afford any pants?” Roxie mutters and both Cooper and Samuel chuckle. Marie glares at her. 

“I heard she was a child actress in the early 2000s,” Marie continues as if trying to re-right the ship. “Was pretty successful, but then dropped off the face of the earth. Until now, I guess.”

“Maybe she went the Bella Thorne way of child actresses,” Nick murmurs, shamelessly watching your ass as you’ve turned to speak with Heidi for a moment. 

Roxie snorts. “She’s not that slutty. No one is that slutty, not even to sleep with the likes of you, Nicholas.”

“Oh, yeah, you’d like that, wouldn’t you –” 

Roxie slams a hand over his mouth. “I will junk-punch you so hard if you say what I think you’re going to say.” 

They’re like siblings, Dieter muses. Five, very talented, outrageous siblings. 

“It was great to meet all of you,” he says and Marie’s eyes flutter back to him. “But I gotta split. We should all go out some time. Meet up outside of work.”

“Oh, I think we’d looove that,” Cooper sing-songs, his eyes on Marie. She flushes bright red and pinches his shoulder, while Samuel laughs. “Ow!”  

Despite himself, this could actually be a fun shoot. He waves but none of them really see it, devolving into a squabble that makes him grin. 

You’re gone, he notices, but Heidi is sitting alone at the table, going over her notes. The art director has left too. 

He slides into the seat next to her and she lifts her head, smiling.

“Hey, Dee, you fucking crushed it today. Everyone’s been coming up to me to say how impressed they are with you.” 

He huffs and rolls his eyes, leaning back in the chair. “Yeah, and did they follow it with, ‘especially after how much of a fuck up we thought he’d be’?” 

Heidi playfully frowns at him. “C’mon, man, give yourself some credit. You earned the right to be here. I didn’t have to approve your audition.” 

His throat tightens. No, she really didn’t. He shakes his head.

“You’re right. As always.” 

Heidi grins, pleased, and drops her head back to her notes, marking things in a red pen. 

“So what did you think of your co-star?” 

Be nice, Dieter. “She’s . . . fine.” 

Heidi smirks, but doesn’t look up. “Wow, I don’t think you’ve ever used less words to describe someone, much less a woman.” 

He doesn’t like the way she says woman, as if there’s this cosmic reckoning that’s started and he just doesn’t know it yet. Sam and Diane, Bones and Booth – a destined sort of thing. 

He rolls his jaw. 

“She just acts . . . uppity, is all. Like she’s better than everyone else.” 

Heidi snorts. “Okay, tell me how you really feel.”

“I don’t like her.”

At that, Heidi pauses and looks up, genuine concern on her face.

“Really? You don’t like her? She came recommended by the studio and she’s a bit much, but I didn’t think you’d actually dislike her.”

He back-pedals as fast as he can. This day is so close to being perfect. 

“I mean, I don’t not like her . . . I just . . . I don’t know her.” If he is being honest, the best time to tell her exactly what’s been on his mind all day is probably right now. “And, fuck, Di, isn’t she a bit . . . I don’t know . . .” He swears he can hear the old Dieter laughing at him. “. . . young?” 

Heidi grimaces, taking his concern seriously and he loves her even more for that. 

“It was a studio note. Execs say it makes the central conflict feel more . . .”

“Predatory?” His eyebrow lifts, disdain evident in his drawl. She frowns at him.

“Transcendent.”

There is nothing about that girl that is transcendent, he thinks bitterly. 

He sighs and leans closer. Heidi notices his change in body language and leans forward too.

“I just cannot fuck this up, Di. I have to come out on top with this. It’s really important.”

That pity flashes across her face again and his stomach curdles. But she soothes a hand over his, her eyes serious. 

“Dee, I know. I really do. I’m not going to let anything bad happen here. She starts acting up, she’s out. We don’t need her that badly.”

He couldn’t be sure if she actually had the power to kick a co-star off the set, but he wanted to believe she did. More importantly, she wanted him to believe she did. 

“Thanks, Di,” he sighs. “I don’t know what I would do without you.” 

She chuckles and pulls her hand back. 

“Go home to your wife at a normal hour.” She pauses, making a face as if she tasted something sour. “Your wife – God, I will never get used to that.”

“Hey, I got used to it, after my best friend left me for some brunette out in Bali,” he teases as he stands up. 

Heidi scoffs. “That wedding was sick as fuck and you know it.” 

“You know, I never did bill Lucy for the piercing I got there. Sober Dieter would never have made the decision to look like a Keith Richards knock-off.”

“Oh shut the fuck up and go home. To your wife.” 

He’s laughing as he waves her good night. 

He opens the back door to the studio lot and breathes in the evening air. Day one, knocked down and dragged out back. He feels so fucking good. 

He’s thumbing through his keys when he smells smoke. Acidic smoke. Like those disgusting American Spirits he used to choke down. 

You’re leaning by the trunk of your car, one heel kicked over the other, smoking a white cigarette through your fingers. Which would be fine with him, except your car is parked tightly in the space next to his and you’re blocking the way to the driver’s seat. He’d rather crawl through the trunk than have to bend around you.

You’re biting on your thumbnail, contemplative, and staring directly at him with unabashed contempt. 

“Your reading was stilted,” you announce and then take a long drag. 

“Excuse me?”

“Your reading today,” you say slowly as though talking to a stupid child, “it was stilted.” 

He pops his jaw. 

“That’s because it was a fucking . . .” He remembers to breathe. “That’s because . . . it was a table read. Have you ever been to one?”

“Yes.” You tap the ash off your cigarette on the heel of your boot, drawing his gaze to the flush of your thigh but he’s not going to fall for it. “It can be a great opportunity for actors to find their chemistry. To find their rhythm.”

“I know that.” 

“Then where was yours? Huh?” You lift your eyebrows. Did you ever not want to play Dare?

“What are you talking about? I had a fine time with the band. We’re actually going to hang out outside–,”

“I mean with me.” 

That burning sensation returns to his chest. You look at him as if you could sear a hole right through him. Your cigarette is left smoking, forgotten, between your fingers at your hip. 

“The only time you ever gave me anything was after I touched you and even then, your performance was so saccharine, it made my teeth ache. I’m out here to prove I belong here, on this big budget film, and you’re stonewalling me. What do you have against me? What did I ever do to you? 

He runs his tongue against the back of his teeth, guilt smothering the fight you aroused in him. He drops your gaze and puts his hands on his hips. He’s too old to be scolded like this.

“Nothing, alright? You didn’t do anything,” he says quietly. “It’s not you–,”

“Of course it fucking isn’t but thank you for saying so,” you snap. 

You take one more drag before flicking the white butt onto the pavement of the gathering darkness.

“This is going to be a long shoot if you can’t get your head out of your ass.” You step forward and he instinctively takes a step back, but you come close anyway and shove a finger in his chest. “I don’t know what your deal is and I don’t care. We’re going to get through this even if I have to grab you by your hair and pull you to the finish line. Got it?” 

Your eyes are shining, fierce, powerful. Your mouth could crush rocks. 

He nods. 

Maybe it’s the trick of the failing light, but he thinks your pupils are a little too unnaturally wide. 

“Great. See you Monday.” 

You turn away from him, stalking back to your car and hurling your purse into the side seat. The car, a Chevy that’s possibly older than he is, roars to life, with just as much vitality as you possess. He leaps back a second before the wheels squeal as the car lurches backwards and darts off into the dark. 

He stands, watching the car pull away onto the road, until it’s gone. He can still hear the engine screaming in the distance. 

He thumbs his keys again, shaking his head. For the first time in months, he would literally kill someone for a cigarette.