#I want to have someone as excited as I am about these things
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Hello I was wondering if you could do Jackson ellie x bestfreind reader and like they have had a crush on eachother for a while and have a sleepover where they smoke or drink maybe or play some type of game like truth or dare and find out they like eachother and get kinda freaky idk. Thank you!
EEE I am so excited for this one watch me cook on this request. This is a rlly good request and I wanna write something just as good!! Also I want to recommend you an ao3 fic with this EXACT plot it's tagged here actually my favorite Ellie fic ever.
Content: 4k words, bestfriend reader, Jackson setting, pent-up feelings, nipple-play (r! receiving), fingering (r! receiving), tribbing, Ellie puts a finger into your mouth how fun!, a lot of dialogue before the actual sex sorry but I loved writing Ellie to be funny, reader likes pink a lot (couldn't help myself) and is afab, reader and Ellie 18+, NOT PROOFREAD LMAO
You're far from safe from liking people you shouldn't like.
That doesn't even cover the multitude of feelings! Like doesn't cover it. You're pretty sure you love Ellie.
Maybe in another lifetime, you and Ellie could've met and went on a date. You could've loved her freely. In this universe, she is your childhood best friend.
You know it could ruin the best thing that has ever happened to you if you tell her, or if she finds out in some way, but fuck; when she looks at you, it's like you forget how to breathe. You just wanna breathe her in, you want to share the same air and feel her lips on yours.
Ellie is unlike anyone you've ever known. She's sweet for you. She's impulsive to others, and honestly sometimes an asshole. That only makes you fall more and more in love for her. You didn't know it was possible to be attracted to someone's flaws, but you want every piece of her, even the bits that others in Jackson label as "annoying."
Ellie has always been there for you since you were just 15 and she moved to Jackson right by Joel's side. You just seemed to click. She was brash, foul-mouthed, and told ironically funny dad jokes. You were the type of person who liked having adventures and never shut up. Ellie always listened. She held you while you cried, let you borrow her book of puns, and volunteered to do patrols with you just so she could have fun adventures with you.
You couldn't ruin a good thing. You don't know what you would even do without Ellie in your life. You didn't wanna freak her out or make things weird. You feel like such a coward, but even thinking about Ellie distancing herself from you because of your stupid crush on her? It just makes your stomach churn with dread.
Little did you know Ellie was equally obsessed with you.
You're like a fucking ball of sunshine to the girl, always there laughing at the stupid things she says, defending her when she gets in trouble for something minor, and your smile should be considered warfare for how easily it could kill her. She tries to keep her feelings to herself, but it is so hard to when you look at her with bright eyes and the sweetest smile like you're trying to give her a toothache.
It's a recipe for a bomb, and it only takes one game to set it off.
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You're sitting criss-cross on your bed and Ellie is in your floor. It's a Saturday, which means both of you get to have a sleepover. No patrol, and no major chores to be done around Jackson.
Ellie just got back from a multiple day lasting patrol and she missed you so much while she was gone, it's not even funny. Seattle is beautiful, but boring when there isn't a sunshine girl in awe about how the verdure clings to the buildings. But at least now she is here, back in your bedroom which she loves so much.
Ellie's room is vastly different from yours. Well, her garage is. Her bedsheets are grey and minimalistic, and her make-shift kitchen is lined with posters. Her favorite is the one with the punk green-haired man holding a guitar. Her closet, however, it quite impressive. Her shelves are lined with comics and space movies, and her hangers are lined with flannels, of course.
Your bedroom, in contrast, has white bedsheets and a cozy pink blanket. You have a few raggedy plushies from scavenging around and your shelves are filled with lighter-colored clothing. White curtains decorate your windows and frilly pillowcases (that end up in the floor most of the time) compliment your bed. You have a full-length mirror in the corner of your room and a shelf of DVDs you usually just bring over to Ellie's garage, since she has a much nicer tv than you do. Ellie glances up at you from the floor, squiggling her eyebrows.
"I'm so fucking bored!" You groan, making Ellie laugh in the process.
"And how is that my problem?"
You flip her off and she clutches her stomach.
"Seriously, Ellie. I wanna actually do something and not just eat grilled cheeses and read your nerdy comics."
She scoffs.
"Excuse me? It's not my fault you have bad taste in literature."
You snort at that. "Starlight Savage and Raven Mouse are not literature."
"Oh, then what are they, huh?" She stands up, amusingly offended.
"Comics!"
Ellie grabs one of your pillows and pretends to suffocate you with it. You're laughing and trying to pry it off of your face.
"Hey, quit! You're actually gonna kill me!" You giggle, your voice muffled from the cushioning.
Ellie finally relents, laughing along with you.
"Better think twice before disrespecting Starlight Savage." She is wearing her signature shit-eating grin.
"Oh, whatever.. Hey!- You got me off topic." You groaned.
Ellie laughs at that. "And what was the topic?"
"I am bored out of my fucking mind," you complain, your voice rising in pitch to sound whiny, which she pretends to absolutely hate.
Really, she just hates that it makes her stomach clench when she hears your cute complains, and the tone of your whines only makes it worse.
"Okay, okay, fine. We can do something fun." She feigns reluctance, setting down on the bed beside you.
"Great!! So, what should we do?"
"Seriously? You don't even know what you wanna do and you gave me whiplash bitching about being bored?"
You scoff, jumping to your own defense. "I was tryin' to get you to come up with something," and then you add to complete your argument, "I wouldn't be bored if I knew what we could do."
Ellie sighs, and you smile because you know that means she has had enough of your bullshit and she just wants to throw in the towel.
"Fine. Well, we can play a game perhaps?"
You groan in protest at the suggestion. "You're a dirty cheater when it comes to Monopoly!"
Ellie only lets out a sheepish laugh at that, because she knows that you're being 100% truthful. "That is what makes the game fun!" When she sees your glare, she sighs once more. "Fine. How 'bout Truth or Dare?"
That sounds intriguing; the game begins.
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You and Ellie sit across from each other, and the game has been going on for around 10 minutes now. It's getting quite boring - always questions like "What's a secret you haven't told me?" or Ellie dares you to do something she knows you won't do, like lick the toilet bowl.
Then, she asks a question that brings the game onto another level.
"What's your favorite sex position?"
You stare at her, your jaw practically in your lap. You don't wanna talk sex positions with the girl you secretly wanna do sex positions with.
"What the fuck, Ellie?!"
She looks a bit guilty, but shrugs with a smirk that doesn't go unnoticed.
"What? I wanted to spice things up. C'mon, don't be a pussy."
You think it over, but finally, with a heated face, you say fuck it and give into her bullshit. "Missionary."
Ellie bursts out laughing.
You're sitting there not knowing what to do! She is laughing like a hyena at this point, tears in the corners of her eyes. She slaps her knee. What the fuck?!
"What's so funny?!"
Ellie just laughs, falling over and she is snorting like a pig now before she finally settles down. "It's just.." she tries to stifle a giggle, "that is the most boring thing you could've possibly said.”
You know that, but you're keen on defending your word. Ellie loves that about you, how you're always quick to stand up for yourself. "It's romantic!"
"Okay, okay," she shrugs. "Enlighten me on how missionary is more romantic than any other position that actually feels good."
You don't hesitate to list off the facts. "First of all, it does feel good! You just haven't tried the pillow method. Second of all, you can kiss your partner and actually talk to them." You sigh, getting a bit flustered (and turned on) by the conversation at hand. "Imagine fucking someone and getting to kiss all over their face while doing so, or on their neck or their tits. It's about the intimacy."
Ellie looks just as flustered as you now. She is silent for a moment before giving you the benefit of the doubt. "Okay, I guess you can rest your case now. But there is much more intimate positions than missionary, you know. You're just thinking vanilla ones like riding the strap-on, or from behind."
You raise an eyebrow at that. "Okay, I'll bite. What's more intimate than looking into someone's eyes while they cum?"
Ellie laughs at your vulgar question, pink tinting her freckled cheeks. "Tribbing." Her voice is more quiet, and that only makes you more aware of the slight tension.
You quickly brush it off with a laugh.
"Of course your gay ass would say that."
She grins and sits up at that, quick to defend herself. "Hey, you have no room to be talking, little miss 'my gay awakening is Rose from Titanic.'"
Your jaw drops and you look at her like she has said something crazy. "Hey, Rose is hot!"
She giggles. "Yeah, Sherlock, thanks for pointing out the obvious."
You roll your eyes. "Okay, okay. Can we get back to the game?"
She nods, and it continues.
As time passes, the questions grow more and more...uncomfortable to answer. You're still asking her the more casual things, but Ellie is daring you to do stupid, impossible stuff, or to answer questions like "what was your first time like?", "do you have a friends with benefits situation with anyone in Jackson?", and "if you could kiss anyone in Jackson, who would it be?" (which you brushed off jokingly by saying old man Eugene. She didn't press any further, only mocking you).
Then, she leans forward after you choose truth, and she whispers something you can't really brush off.
"Who do you like?"
You're fucked. If she asked "do you like someone?", you could answer without revealing who it is. She knows she has you trapped. Sneaky cunt.
You don't answer right away. Ellie is so close, your knees touching. The air in the room is insanely hot, and you want to leave your own house, you want to hide under your blankets or cover your face, but you can't.
Ellie doesn't wait for you to answer.
"I know you like someone, I can tell when my best friend is in love. Who is it?"
"That's way too personal, I.."
She scoffs, but it's not a rude sound. Just shocked, maybe slightly hurt. "You have always told me your crushes. Why won't you tell me now?"
You feel guilty now because she doesn't understand. She doesn't get why you won't tell her. She can't understand that it's because you like her. You want to scream it: I'm in love with you, Ellie! But those words won't be the next you utter.
"I just...I feel like this time it should be private." You know that your reasoning is weak, for once in your life, the defense is slipping and it's ugly. You internally wince.
She just stares in silence, not really meeting your eyes. It makes you panic, and then, then the words slip from your mouth seeing the hurt on Ellie's pretty face.
"It's you."
She stares at you like she didn't quite hear what you said, even though it was shaky, nevertheless loud and coherent.
"What...?"
"I..I'm in love with you, Ellie." You repeat yourself.
She leans into you. "Fuck.." Her breath hitches. "You better not be fucking around with me, I swear to-"
"No!", you shout loudly and quickly try to compose yourself. "I mean..I'm not joking. I like you. I hope this doesn't fuck with our friendship, or like.." You trail off, not wanting to think about what could happen now.
"I'm in love with you, too." There, now Ellie has gotten it out too.
Ellie didn't even fully understand why she asked you that. She knew she could've gotten her feelings hurt, that you could've liked someone else or that it would definitely mean you did like her, and then she had to be vulnerable and confess it back. Still, she was so exhausted, so fucking tired of pretending like hugs and casual touches were enough. They were never enough.
"Can I kiss you?" She doesn't even give you the proper time to react to her shared confession before she springs that onto you. You don't complain, only nodding quickly.
Her breath is warm against yours, and you can tell how shaky it is. You've never seen her so nervous, it makes your own stomach flutter with butterflies. Then, Ellie's grasping onto your face and smashing her lips against yours. Her mouth is warm, and the kiss doesn't even start out gentle. It's all devouring, all need and passon.
You quickly move into her lap, thighs on either sides of hers, and both of you are desperately pulling each other closer, finally sharing the same air. She tastes like everything natural, something so unique it can't be described but you immediately know you need more of it. Her tongue moves inside of your mouth, devouring you just like how she has been dreaming of for who knows how long, and when you're forced to pull away for a breath, her lips are sloppily trailing down your jaw to your throat, her hands grasping your hips to pull you closer.
"I've wanted you for so long, you know that?" Her voice is warm against your sensitive skin, and you think you could just burst with how it feels to be practically intertwined with her.
"Show me how it feels, Els.." You gasp and tilt your head back for more, but Ellie pulls away to look at you.
"How what feels?' She doesn't sound rude, only confused with her lips swollen and wet.
"The intimacy..the intimacy you talked about.." Oh, that.
She nods quickly, and her mouth is all over your shoulders, leaving soft pecks between words, "We can do that, but I wanna do something first..is that okay?"
"Yeah, go ahead."
With that, she pulls your shirt over your head and stares at you like she has never seen a pair of boobs before. Her eyes are wide and she takes you in before her.
"You're so pretty," she mumbles with conviction, kneading your tits through your bra. You can only moan when she sticks a hand into your bra and rubs her palm over your nipples, her other hand deftly undoing the clasp of the fabric.
That was the hottest thing you could do for a woman, Williams..
Her lips quickly find a nipple, pulling it into her mouth to swirl her tongue around the bud. Your fingers tug at her hair, begging for more. You need her closer. She reluctantly pulls her mouth off off of its new favorite place and leans back up to face you, planting an affectionate kiss on your cheek before smiling sheepishly.
"I'm gonna say something I want to do to you, but you can't laugh.."
That makes you already giggle, despite the heat building between your thighs. That is something you love about Ellie, the way she can make you laugh even when you aren't supposed to be.
"I'll try my best. What is it?" You ask, and she fiddles with her fingers nervously.
"I wanna use my fingers on you," she says it so quietly, voice nervous but filled with hunger before she quickly adds, "if you want me to. It's okay if you don't wanna go any further-"
"I want you to finger me, Els."
That was easier than she thought it would be.
She nods now, slowly unbuttoning your jeans and watching with an intense gaze as you hop off of her lap to shimmy them off. Now you're in nothing but a cotton pair of panties and you look so gorgeous.
Ellie has always found you to be beautiful. During patrols and on lookout, your hair had a shine to it that most people wouldn't care to think too much about, but Ellie always noticed it. Ellie always noticed the way your lips parted when you were zoned out, or how you walked like you always knew where you were going even on the paths that were mainly uncharted. You were so lovely-looking.
Now, nearly naked for her, she doesn't know if she can bare to blink even for a second. She is currently having a never-ending starting contest with your body, and she has to stop herself from pouncing on you. She wants to love you, not just fuck you.
Ellie is on her knees between your legs, hooking her fingers into the waistband of your underwear. Her eyes flicker over your body before looking to yours for confirmation.
"You sure you want this?"
"Please, Ellie. I want you." You know you sound desperate for her, but it can't be helped. You were soaked through your underwear, clit beating with need, and Ellie is just eyeing you like she wanted to devour you. She probably would, but she wants to save your clit for later.
She nods and slips your underwear down your legs, pulling them off of your ankles and throwing them behind her. The action made you giggle, but Ellie quickly squashed your outburst.
"Somethin' funny?" She asks, slipping a finger through your slick folds. You gasp and jolt.
"Hey, where the fuck is the warning, you cunt?"
She has to stifle her own laugh at your outburst, but she is growing tired of the cute giggles; if you laughed one more time, she'd be fucking you until you were limping-
"Sorry, pretty. I'm gettin' impatient." Her tone mkes you involuntarily clench. You rarely hear that tone, the serious one when she is either around someone she doesn't know and is keeping it professional or just not in the mood to joke. Now, you discover it's her horny tone, too.
You nod, tilting your head back to rest it on your frilly pillow. Finally, she slips two digits past your lips and you resist the urge to let a whorish whine slip past your lips. When she easily slides into your heat, you then can't resist.
Ellie's eyes are glued to your pussy like it's magic, watching your hips try to rise for more, feeling the way your walls tighten around her intrusion.
It's too much for her poor, fucked head to bare.
She is already as wrecked as you are. She wants to taunt you for the way you already look like you're going to cum from her barely brushing at your spongey g-spot, but she can't. She is probably in rougher shape right now.
"You feel so warm." It's all she can manage to get out, and she curls her fingers inside of you into upward, making you moan.
"I wanna cum, Els..please, more. Give me more." Ellie has never seen you this dumb for pleasure before, but who is she to deny you?
Her fingers aren't thrusting in and out or finger-banging you, just slowly sliding through your cunt, her fingertips stroking where you need them to. You feel so full, so complete. You hope she does this every single day from here on out.
It doesn't take long to get you into a state of complete bliss, and you haven't even climaxed yet. Your legs aren't clamping down, rather spreading wider as if you're begging for her to take you in the most obscene ways possible, fill you up with more than just her fingers. If only she you two were currently at her house, she has that unopened strap-on box... maybe for another day.
The knot that builds in your stomach, the temperature of it overheating your insides is about to snap. You're begging as if Ellie is teasing you or something. You're whining, and you look like you're about to start sobbing if she pauses her pace even for a nanosecond. She just wants to gives you everything, thinks you deserve the whole world, so she leans forward and intertwines her fingers with yours as her other fingers pump deep inside you, and you swear it's rearranging your guts. You wanna be wrecked so damn badly.
"You keep fluttering around me, gonna cum?" She asks, and you whine and nod.
Your orgasm soon hits you like a tsunami, once in a crash and then it simmers throughout you in waves. This is probably the hardest you have ever came. You gasp onto her hand tight, squeezing her fingers. You can't even speak or you'd be howling her name. It feels so euphoric and you wonder how it can get any better than this.
When you come down from the peak, she eases her fingers out of your tender insides and licks her ring finger clean. Then, she settles her hips between your legs, bringing her soaking middle finger to your lips.
"Open up."
You do so without question, tasting yourself on her digit before she swiftly pulls her finger away with a "pop!"
"I taste weird," you mumble and she rolls her eyes, mumbling a little "fuck you" before sitting up to strip out of her flannel.
You feel maybe a little nervous before. Something about the thought of feeling her in such an intimate way makes you feel even more fluttery inside. You've been with women before, you are far from a virgin, but you've never clashed clits before (omfg what). Most girls thought it was just a porn thing.
"You okay?" Ellie pauses, her flannel on the bed and a black t-shirt layer underneath it.
"Yeah," you mean it, "just a little nervous."
Her eyes soften, and she takes your hand and squeezes it. "I promise I'll be slow with you. I'm not gonna rush you into this, and if you want, we can always stop."
You feel more assured now, and you smile. "Okay."
When she finally strips out of her clothing, you take her in. She is breath-takingly beautiful. Her body is pale but covered in tan freckles, and her nipples are perky with arousal. Her shoulders and collarbone look so fucking kissable. You're still in a daze as she hooks a leg over yours, her warm cunt only an inch or two away from yours. She hovers.
"You ready?"
"I want you, so yes."
That makes her smile, and she slowly eases down onto you, her folds rubbing up against yours and both of your neglected clits finally getting the attention they deserve. Both of you are already moaning and Ellie leans down onto you, her tits brushing against yours as she kisses you deeply.
This kiss is slower than the first, less desperate but just as emotional. It's hungry and consumes you in a sensual way. Her hips grind against yours, her slick mixing with your soaked pussy to make you only whine into her mouth.
Now you understand how intimate this is. You feel so connected to Ellie in a way you hope you never get to feel with anyone else. You wanna always be this close. You think that even after this ends, you'll feel that tie to her body and heart, always leading you back to her.
When you both cum together, it's much different than what she gave you before. You can feel her tense up with you, hear her shaky breaths and moans, and you feel a warmth inside of you reminding you that she feels this way because of your pussy, because of her feelings for you. It's making you obsessive to feel this way.
When the high fades, she collapses on top you. You're both breathing heavily for a few minutes. Her breath is against your neck and it feels like a kiss. Your brain is thinking of something stupid now that the horniness is over.
"Isn't it obvious that I'm your girlfriend now?"
Ellie laughs and squeezes you tightly.
"Yeah. You're my girlfriend now, and I'm not letting you go."
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#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie williams#ellie the last of us#ellie x fem reader#ellie x reader#ellie smut#the last of us part 2#cheyisagirlkissermailbox#requests
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Want You
Summary: LN4 + "But I don't want them, I want you." 🥧🏈
Song: Sweater Weather by The Neighbourhood
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! 🫶
Word count: 10.8k
You stand in the mirror, pacing back and forth as you fix your hair for the third time. Tonight is one of those nights where the universe feels electrically charged, a perfect blend of thrill and anxiety swirling in your gut.
Layla, your best friend, has just finished getting ready and is practically beaming with excitement beside you.
Her skin glows under the soft lights of your apartment, and her dress hugs her figure perfectly. You can’t help but feel slightly overshadowed by her beauty.
"Do I look okay?" you ask, biting your lip, your eyes darting from her to your reflection.
"Are you kidding? You look amazing!" Layla exclaims, twisting a lock of her hair, her eyes sparkling. "But you really need to get out there more. You’re gorgeous in your own right!”
You chuckle, brushing off her compliment with a wave of your hand. "Yeah, well, even if I am, who's going to notice when you're around? You’re the one who gets all the attention. "
"That's not true! But anyway, tonight we’re supposed to have fun, not talk about that,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and shaking you lightly. “Now, remember the plan?”
You nod, though your heart feels heavier with those words. “Right. We’re meeting Lando and the guys at the club. I just hope he doesn’t think I’m some awkward third wheel. He’s popular.”
Layla rolls her eyes playfully. “You say that every time. You two are friends. Besides, I think he likes you more than you think.”
“Whatever you say,” you respond, your mind racing back to the day Lando had randomly entered your life during a charity event you were volunteering for.
He was charming, funny, and incredibly humble for someone so famous. But the thought of anything romantic blossoming between you seemed absurd, especially when Layla was practically the embodiment of what everyone desired.
At the club, the bass vibrates through the floor, and colorful lights dance around the crowd like fireflies in the night. It’s an atmosphere alive with energy, but you feel your heartbeat quicken at the thought of seeing Lando.
You spot him near the bar, a bright smile on his face as he talks to some friends. Dressed casually, Lando is effortlessly cool, like a magnetic pull that draws everyone’s attention.
“There he is!” Layla exclaims, her excitement infectious. You watch her eyes grow wide like a child spotting a shooting star.
“Go! Go talk to him!” you nudge her, unable to keep the urge to play matchmaker at bay.
“No way! I’m not going without my wingwoman,” she whispers urgently, grabbing your wrist.
With a resigned sigh, you stride forward, Layla trailing closely behind. The moment Lando sees you, his face lights up, and he waves enthusiastically.
The way his presence commands attention is almost intoxicating.
“Hey! You made it!” he greets, pulling you in for a quick hug. You can smell his cologne, fresh and invigorating. Suddenly, your shyness mellows into warmth, though a tiny inner voice reminds you that you’re about to play cupid.
“Of course! Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” you reply, your demeanor suddenly a mix of confidence and nervous fluttering. “Lando, this is my best friend Layla. You should hang out with her more—she’s awesome!”
Layla’s cheeks flush, and a playful smirk spreads across her face, but you can’t help but feel anxiety gnawing at you.
“Nice to meet you, Layla,” Lando says, his bright green eyes sparkling with genuine curiosity. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”
“Only good things, I hope!” Layla giggles, twirling a strand of hair around her fingers as if she wasn’t sure what to do with her hands.
“Yes, definitely,” he chuckles lightly, shooting you a glance that feels a bit mischievous. “I always wanted to meet the friend who keeps you so grounded.”
You fight to keep your composure, trying to bury the layer of jealousy creeping in. “Well, tonight’s all about celebrating. We should hit the dance floor!”
Hours pass with drinks flowing and laughter echoing. You dance, reveling in the rhythm while keeping a watchful, almost possessive gaze on Layla and Lando. They banter, and you notice how easily they connect, the chemistry undeniable.
A part of you feels satisfied, hoping for the sparks to ignite. Yet, another part steals glances at the way Lando laughs—could he truly like her?
“Hey,” you hear a familiar voice call, pulling you from your thoughts. Lando approaches, his brow slightly furrowed. “I was looking for you. Want to join us?”
You swallow, glancing at Layla, who is leaning against her car, her smile bright. “Um, sure. Just one moment.”
He watches you, a look of concern crossing his face. “Everything alright?”
You smiled, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah but you know, Layla really lights up the floor.”
“She does,” he nodded, taking a sip of his drink. “But I think you’re just as fun. It’s nice having both of you here.”
“Nice being here with you.” The words spilled from your mouth before you could bite them back.
Before you nerves could take over, you added, “You know, if you’re interested, Layla would love to get coffee or something. She’s crushing on you.”
A flicker of surprise crossed Lando’s face, followed by an understanding nod. “Yeah, I picked up on that. But honestly?” He paused, searching for your eyes. “I think I’d prefer hanging out with you instead."
Your breath hitched, and you felt a giddy thrill dance in your chest. “Really? You mean that?”
“Definitely,” he said, leaning forward with a grin. “You’re fun to talk to, and we have a great vibe. I really like spending time with you.”
“Wow, I… I wasn’t expecting that,” you stammered, a mixture of confusion and excitement swirling inside you. “I mean, Layla is great and all, but—”
“Look,” he interrupted gently, his eyes softening. “I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings, but I’d love to get to know you better. Just you. No Layla.”
The morning sunlight peeked through the curtains, casting soft golden rays across the small living room where Lando and you sat. Your head ached, pounding in rhythm with your heartbeat, and the remnants of last night's festivities loomed over you like a heavy cloud.
Lando chuckled softly, shaking his head. “It wasn’t anything too wild, don’t worry. Just that you really like spending time with me… and that you might like me in a different way.”
Your face burned even hotter, a mix of embarrassment and panic flooding your senses. “Oh my god! Lando, I’m so sorry. I really didn’t mean to… I don’t remember any of that! It’s embarrassing.”
“Hey, don’t stress,” he said, a warm smile crossing his lips. “It’s not like you announced it to the whole party or anything. Just me, your trusted partner in crime. Besides, it's actually kind of sweet.”
His words were laced with a sincerity that calmed the storm brewing inside you, just a little. “You really think so?”
“Definitely,” Lando nodded, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy? It made my night a lot better.”
“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”
“You were not a mess, you were just… liberated,” Lando smirked, leaning back on the couch and folding his arms behind his head. “And honestly, I don’t think it’s a bad thing. In fact, it kind of makes me happy.”
“Ugh, Lando, you’re just saying that to make me feel better,” you replied, your voice wavering as you tried to muster a hint of displeasure.
“No, I’m not.” He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “I mean, how often do you get to hear someone’s true thoughts when they’re tipsy?”
“Are you serious? I was a mess!” You tossed a pillow at him, your heart still racing from the earlier confession. “I can't believe I let that slip.”
“No you weren't.” His face lit up with a smile that was infectious. “First things first, though—let’s get you over that hangover.”
You chuckled softly, grateful for the shift in energy. “Right.”
“Exactly,” Lando said, standing up and moving to the kitchen. “How do you feel about greasy food? Because I believe that’s the primary cure for hangovers.”
Your lips curved into a smile. “Always a solid choice. I could go for some toast or maybe even pancakes.”
“I can whip up something interesting,” he called back, a hint of mischief creeping into his voice. “But it might not be traditional breakfast food. I’ve been experimenting a little.”
“Oh boy, this should be good,” you said, following him into the kitchen, the earlier tension still lingering, but now more like a hopeful promise than a cloud of uncertainty.
Lando looked back over his shoulder with that charming grin that made your heart race. “Just trust me. You’ll love it.”
As he rummaged through the cabinets, you felt a flutter of excitement amid the remnants of your embarrassment. Maybe today wasn’t just about curing a hangover. Maybe it was the start of something new—something sweet and just a little bit wild.
The kitchen filled with the aroma of sizzling ingredients, laughter, and casual banter, the gravitational pull of your connection drawing you closer.
And for the first time that morning, as the sunlight spilled in and the soft music played, you felt truly, undeniably alive. . . .
The sun hung high in the sky, casting a golden hue over the McLaren paddock as the roar of engines filled the air. You had arrived earlier than expected, feeling a mix of excitement and apprehension.
Lando had invited you specifically to watch him race, and you had decided to bring Layla with you, thinking it might make the day more enjoyable.
But now, as you watched the interactions unfold around you, you began to regret that decision.
“Look at them,” Layla said, nudging your arm and pointing toward the racing cars as they zipped around the track. “Isn’t it incredible? I still can’t believe we’re here!”
“Yeah,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to suppress the tension knotting up your stomach.
Lando was on the other side of the paddock, surrounded by his team, engrossed in the pre-race hustle. He looked effortlessly cool in his race suit, flashing that signature smile that made your heart skip, and exchanging laughter with his crew.
You could see the admiration in Layla’s eyes, the way her gaze followed him, almost too fondly.
“Do you think he’ll win today?” Layla asked, her voice bright with enthusiasm. “I mean, he’s been so on form lately. This might be his season!”
“Yeah, I hope so,” you managed, but your heart sank a little at the way she spoke about him, as if Lando was already hers, as if you didn’t even exist in the context of their perfect relationship.
As the anticipation built, Lando finished up with his team and made his way over to you both. With a warm grin, he wrapped you in a tight hug, his comforting scent of fresh cedar and sunlight enveloping you.
“Hey, you made it!” he exclaimed, pulling back to look into your eyes. He waved cheerfully at Layla, who returned the gesture with a beaming smile.
With a playful tap on my shoulder, he kept his attention locked on you. “I bought your favorite snacks in case you get hungry. Just ask anyone in hospitality and they'll give them to you.”
“Oh, Lando, you didn’t have to,” you said, touched by his thoughtfulness.
“I knew you didn’t eat much,” he replied, with a hint of teasing in his tone. “Gotta keep you energized, right? What would the fans say if they saw you fainting in the stands?”
You chuckled, the lightheartedness of his comment managing to ease some of the tension in your chest. “I appreciate it, really. Thanks, Lando.”
“Of course!” He flashed that dazzling smile again, and your heart skipped yet again, wishing it wouldn’t betray you so. “Are you excited for the race?”
“Absolutely,” You said with a grin. “I can’t wait to see you speed past everyone. You’re going to crush it!”
Lando’s cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment. “I’ll do my best. And if all goes to plan, maybe we can celebrate afterward?”
“Definitely!” you replied a little too quickly. “That would be amazing!”
As Lando left to get ready for the race and you walked to the garage, Layla nudged you playfully. “Haven't you seen the way he looks at you?” she said, a teasing smirk on her face.
“How do he… look at me?” you asked, a hint of confusion in your voice.
“Like he's helplessly falling in love,” Layla teased, her tone light but with a touch of sincerity.
Your cheeks heated. “Oh, come on. He’s just friendly. You know how he is.”
“Friendly? Girl, he’s practically glowing when he sees you! It’s more than friendly.”
You didn't reply but her words were replayed in your head for most of the day. . . .
The roar of the engines and the excitement of the crowd filled the air as you settled into your seat, your heart racing along with the cars on the track.
You had been eagerly watching Lando drive with impressive precision, your admiration mixed with nerves as he expertly navigated the twists and turns of the circuit.
But as the laps dwindled down, your stomach began to rumble louder than the cars. You leaned over to Layla, who was just as engrossed in the race aside from the occasional glance in your direction.
“I'm going to grab some snacks Lando got for me. Want anything?” you asked, trying to mask your growing hunger with a light-hearted tone.
“No, I’m good! Can’t believe you have personal snacks from the Lando,” Layla teased, a smirk playing at the corners of her mouth.
With a playful roll of your eyes, you made your way to the hospitality room, the bright lights and lavish decor a stark contrast to the rawness of the track.
You felt a rush of nostalgia thinking about all the times Lando had surprised you with silly little gestures, like snacking during breaks or rescuing you from long queues at events.
As you entered, the atmosphere abruptly shifted. A tall, undeniably handsome man leaned casually against the bar, a cocky smile on his face that could light up the room.
He had perfectly styled hair and a confidence that was palpable. You instinctively felt your pulse quicken, but not in the way you were used to with Lando.
“Hey there,” he drawled, his voice smooth like velvet as he turned to face you. “What’s a gorgeous girl like you doing all alone?”
You blinked, taken aback. It was the first time someone had openly flirted with you in public, and the realization made your cheeks flush.
“Um, just grabbing some snacks,” you stammered, glancing back toward the snack table. “Not much to see here.”
He moved closer, leaning forward on the bar, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “Well, I’d hardly call you ‘not much to see.’ You definitely stand out from the crowd. What’s your name?”
“Uh, it’s…” you hesitated, almost forgetting your own name for a moment. “It’s Y/N. And you are…?”
“Ethan,” he replied, extending a hand with an air of confidence. You hesitated but eventually shook his hand. “So Y/N, do you come to the races often?”
“More often than you’d think,” you answered, forcing a smile.
Your mind kept drifting back to Lando, his curly hair bouncing with every turn, his infectious laugh, his enthusiastic spirit. You couldn't help but mentally compare every detail of Ethan to Lando, a habit you couldn’t shake off.
“What do you think of the race so far?” Ethan asked, diverting your thoughts back to the present.
“Oh, it’s exhilarating! Lando’s doing really well,” you replied, your voice faltering slightly as you mentioned his name. “He’s a great driver.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow. “Lando? The Lando?”
“Yeah, we’ve known each other for a bit. He’s… well, great,” you added sheepishly, not wanting to divulge too much about your friendship.
“Sounds like you’re a bit smitten,” Ethan teased, his eyes sparkling with playful banter.
You cut him a look, a blush creeping up your neck. “No! It’s not like that. We’re just friends!” The resolve in your voice felt weak against the wistfulness laced in your words.
Would Ethan ever understand the depth of what Lando meant to you?
The race continued, and Ethan shifted his attention from the track to you. “While I might not have curly hair or that… infectious laugh, I can still try to impress you,” he said with a smirk.
You couldn’t help but laugh softly. “I can’t deny you’re charming, Ethan. But the thing about Lando—”
“Is that he’s Lando,” Ethan interrupted, his voice low as though the name itself held some power. “I get it. You’ve got this history that I can’t compete with.”
He looked down, running a hand through his hair. The gesture seemed so reminiscent of Lando, yet distinctly different.
You couldn’t shake off how much every flick of Ethan’s hair and every smile he flashed felt in stark contrast to Lando’s bouncy curls and radiant grin. He smiled, sure, but it felt like a shadow of something brighter.
Just then, a staff member waved at Ethan from the other side of the grandstand, beckoning him over for photographs. “I’ll be right back!” he said, throwing you one last flirtatious grin before he slipped away.
You decided to take the chance to get back to your seat, curious as to why the cheers around the paddock were getting louder.
“Did you get your snacks?” Layla asked, her eyes still glued to the screen where the race was unfolding.
“Yeah,” you replied absentmindedly, still feeling the flutter of excitement from Ethan's attention. As you focused on the race, your thoughts danced back to him intermittently.
The atmosphere was electric; Lando was still in the lead for qualifying, much to the delight of the crowd, and your heart raced not just from the race—but from the momentary thrill of flirtation.
“Come on, come on, Lando!” Layla shouted, her enthusiasm infectious. You mirrored her excitement, your eyes following the sleek McLaren as it whizzed around the track.
When Lando crossed the finish line, securing pole position, the roar from the team was deafening. Everyone in McLaren was ecstatic, their cheers echoing the adrenaline that surged through the air.
"Yes, Lando," you said, smiling as the cameras captured the jubilant scene.
With Lando’s triumph, you watched as the team swarmed to congratulate him. You couldn't help but chuckle at his signature grin, the way he seemed to glow with the thrill of victory.
But as you looked closer, you realized that despite the chaos around him, Lando’s gaze was searching the crowd.
“Do you think he’ll spot us?” Layla asked, her eyes narrowing, trying to catch a glimpse through the throng of people.
“I doubt it. I mean, look at him! He’s the star of the show right now,” you replied, attempting to downplay the hope that fluttered in your stomach.
Still, your thoughts were interrupted as Layla suddenly grabbed your hand, pulling you through the crowd.
“C'mon! We need to get a closer look!” she shouted over the noise. Your heart raced for a different reason now, excitement growing as you maneuvered through the ocean of fans, team members, and media.
You just managed to catch a glimpse of Lando standing on his car, fist raised triumphantly in the air. “Look at him! He’s on top of the world!” you exclaimed, your voice barely audible over the cheers.
“I know! He’s incredible!” Layla responded, beaming at Lando’s joyous display.
Amidst the clamor and celebrations, you decided to yell out, “Lando, over here!” hoping he might hear you.
To your surprise, he turned in your direction, a radiant smile breaking across his face. He scanned the crowd, and for a heartbeat, your eyes locked. His smile grew broader, and you felt warmth flood your cheeks.
Then, without a thought for the crowd around you, you made your way over to him. You squeezed through a chaotic throng of jubilant fans, the buzz of celebration swirling around you, until you reached the area near the barriers.
There he was, laughing and exchanging high-fives with the team. You couldn't help but grin as you approached.
“Lando!” you shouted over the noise, arms open wide.
He spotted you immediately, and a look of pure joy washed over his face. With almost immediate instinct, he lunged toward you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight embrace.
The strength of his excitement was palpable, and you squeezed him back, your heart racing.
He chuckled as he lifted you slightly off the ground. “I did it! I can't believe it!” he cried, setting you back down gently. “Did you see that last lap?”
“Are you kidding? It was amazing! You were so fast!” you exclaimed, your voice rising above the cacophony.
As he pulled back, he looked down at you with his bright eyes sparkling in the fading light. “I couldn’t have done it without all your support. You were here every step of the way.”
“You’ve worked so hard, Lando. You deserve this,” you said, your gaze drifting for a moment as you felt the warmth of his presence envelop you.
But then, staring at him with the backdrop of the ecstatic crowd, your heart felt odd. Being so close to him, you suddenly found yourself stammering. “I—uh, I mean… you really did great.”
Lando tilted his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes. “You alright?” He took a small step closer, his arm still around your waist, making you acutely aware of the physical closeness between you, which felt both comfortable and electric.
“Uh, yeah, totally fine,” you replied quickly, but your voice was barely above a whisper. You caught a brief glimpse of Lando's gaze flitting to your lips, and it sent a jolt of connection rushing through you.
“I just… I mean…” You struggled to finish your thought, the reality of your best friend stepping into the limelight making you feel both thrilled and ridiculously nervous.
“Just what?” he teased gently, his smile unwavering but those eyes—oh, those eyes were searching, digging deeper.
“Just… I didn’t think you’d get pole position! I mean, I thought maybe, like, third or fourth?” You laughed nervously, but his gaze didn’t waver.
“Hey, you should always believe in me!” Lando said, but there was a soft intensity behind his words that made your heart race all the more. “If I can get here today, then you have to promise you’ll always believe in me, no matter what.”
You paused, looking earnestly into his bright eyes, biting your lip. “I promise. But you’ve gotta promise me too; no matter how famous you get or how many trophies you win, you won’t forget about me, okay?”
“Never,” he said softly, but the way he said it sent a shiver down your spine. He lowered his voice, his teasing demeanor fading slightly.
“You’ve been my constant through all of this, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”
Lando’s words lingered palpably in the air between you. You felt like the entire world had faded away, the crowd’s roars dimming into background noise. “I just… I could never replace what we have.”
“Exactly,” he said, moving a fraction closer, eliciting butterflies to flutter chaotic within your stomach. “Remember that time you thought I’d mess up in Monaco, and then I didn’t? I was convinced I could do it because you believed in me.”
You laughed, flushing at the memory. “Yeah, and you laughed at me for just being realistic.”
“Realistic is boring! You should know that by now. In racing, and in life, you gotta dream big,” he said, voice lightening as humor returned to the moment.
Just as you were about to respond, Zac approached. “Hey! Lando! Congrats, mate!”
He clapped Lando on the back, breaking the synergy you had created. “That was an incredible race! You crushed it!”
Lando’s hand left your waist as he turned to engage with Zac, his infectious excitement pulling him into the conversation. “Thanks, man! I can’t believe it! I was so nervous the entire time!”
You stepped back slightly, allowing the two of them to revel in the adrenaline of the moment. Lando beamed, his eyes sparkling as he spoke animatedly with Zac about the race strategy.
You watched as he made his way to get weighed and interviewed, your heart fluttering with a mix of pride and something else you weren’t quite ready to admit.
“Really, though, I don’t understand why you’re still on the fence about it,” Layla said, stepping beside you as you discreetly observed Lando.
Her voice was laced with curiosity as she nudged your shoulder. “He’s been so into you these past few weeks. Did you see how he looked at you when he saw you?”
You sighed, leaning back against the wall, your gaze still fixed on Lando. “Yeah, well, I saw that. But just because he looks at me a certain way doesn’t mean he likes me. He’s excited about the race, Layla. I’m just… there.”
“You’re not just ‘there.’ You’re practically glowing in his vicinity. It’s like he only sees you when he talks!” Layla insisted, her tone shifting to teasing. “You could light up an entire stadium with the way he smiles at you.”
“Okay, maybe he enjoys spending time with me,” you conceded, your cheeks warming at the thought. “But that doesn't exactly scream ‘I like you.’”
“Maybe not,” she replied, tilting her head as she watched Lando waving at fans and signing autographs, “but you’ve got to admit, there’s something more. I mean, look at him! The energy is off the charts!”
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the conversation light. “You know how he is. He’s a charismatic guy. He’s like that with everyone.”
“Maybe. But wouldn’t it be amazing if he was like that with just you?” Layla’s voice softened, and she nudged you again. “Take the leap! Ask him how he feels—it doesn’t have to be a grand declaration.”
The sun was beginning to set over the racing circuit, casting hues of orange and pink across the sky as Lando settled himself into a high-backed chair in the paddock lounge.
It had been a day filled with adrenaline, the thrill of achieving pole position lighting up his thoughts.
The victory celebrations had been electrifying, but they were quickly overshadowed by a single purpose that surged through him like fuel to an engine—he wanted to see you again.
After the debrief, he had scanned the crowd, searching for you, his excitement building with each passing second. He had been talking about trying a new restaurant in town, and he couldn’t wait to explore it with you.
But the moment he stepped into the bustling lounge, he spotted you, and his heart sank just a little.
You were laughing.
Not just a polite chuckle, but a full-bodied laugh that lit up your face. You were engaged in conversation with Ethan Smith, the American actor who had been brought in as a special guest to support the race.
Lando could see the chemistry between you two—it was glaringly evident in the way Ethan leaned in slightly, his playful jokes coaxing out laughter and smiles that made your eyes sparkle.
“Hey, you look like you’re going to kill Ethan,” Layla, your best friend, teased as she sidled up to Lando, noticing the tense atmosphere that had suddenly enveloped him.
“Who?” Lando asked, tearing his gaze from you for just a moment.
“Ethan Smith? One of the most famous actors in the US? You don’t know him?” Layla's voice was filled with disbelief.
“Nope, and I don’t like him either,” Lando grumbled, eyes narrowing as he watched Ethan wink at you.
You giggled, and Lando felt a twinge of jealousy in his chest. He stood up properly, unable to resist the pull any longer.
As he stormed over, Layla rolled her eyes, giggling softly in amusement. “Good luck, hero.”
Lando approached, trying to keep his expression neutral even while he could feel a competitive spark igniting within him.
“Hey, sorry to interrupt,” he said, forcing a smile as he sidled up next to you, “but I thought we were going to check out that new place together.”
You turned to him, your smile blossoming even wider. “Lando! You were amazing out there today! I still can’t believe you got pole position!”
“Thanks! It was a good day, but I’ve got even better plans,” he added, shooting Ethan a pointed look. “I’m taking you out for dinner remember.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, clearly unbothered and amused by Lando's sudden intrusion. “Oh, is that so? Looks like you’ve got some competition, Norris.”
Lando’s jaw twitched slightly. “I don’t see any competition, honestly. You’re just a—”
“Just a what?” Ethan interrupted with a smirk, leaning back casually. “Just a huge star who happens to be having a lovely conversation with someone he finds incredibly charming?”
You giggled again, a sound that made Lando’s irritation simmer down just a fraction. “You guys, come on. I’m just trying to enjoy the evening here.”
“Exactly,” said Ethan, flashing you a disarming smile. “And you deserve it! Besides, I was just giving her some advice on how to handle the media.”
“Media?” Lando questioned, crossing his arms. “I didn’t realize you were running a media workshop.”
Ethan shrugged, unbothered. “Hey, just sharing the wisdom I’ve gained. It can be tough, huh? Like staying out of the limelight while everyone’s watching you, waiting for you to slip up.” He shot a harmless smile, but Lando felt the jabs in his stomach.
You frowned, sensing the tension. “You guys, let’s not make this into a competition. Lando, you were the one who wanted to go out tonight.”
Lando looked at you, and then back at Ethan. “Right,” he said, softening his tone as he fixed his eyes solely on you. “I just wanted to celebrate with you a little, that’s all.”
Ethan grinned, raising his hands in surrender. “Alright, alright! Looks like you’ve claimed your prize, my friend. I was just enjoying the company. I’ll step back.”
Lando glanced at Ethan with a nod, appreciating the concession, but still feeling a little victorious as he turned back to you. “So, are you ready to go eat? That new place is supposed to be amazing.”
You looked back to Ethan, and then nodded, a sweet smile curling on your lips. “Yeah, I’m ready. Sorry for taking up your time, Ethan.”
Ethan waved it off with a playful wink. “No problem! Have fun out there, you two. Just remember, she was laughing with me first!”
As you and Lando began to walk away, he turned back to you with a raised eyebrow. “You know, just for the record, I think he was flirting with you.”
You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh please, he’s just a friendly guy! Besides, I already have someone I’m interested in.”
“Good,” Lando muttered, feeling a rush of relief and warmth flooding his chest. “Just making sure.”
He smiled down at you, his heart feeling a little lighter now. “Let’s go enjoy our dinner and make some headlines of our own, huh?”
“Sounds perfect,” you said, linking your arm through his as you both made your way out, leaving the tension behind you.
Lando couldn’t help but smile at the thought of spending the evening with you, feeling that maybe the only competition that truly mattered was the one he could embrace.
The evening air was cooler than expected, igniting a small thrill of anticipation as you stepped out of the car. You looked up at the restaurant’s glowing sign, your heart fluttering a little.
This place was newly opened, a fusion of modern and vintage charm, and you were eager to see if it lived up to its reputation.
As you adjusted your jacket, you glanced at Lando, who was standing beside you with an easy grin, his eyes sparkling like the city lights around you. Ever since he came into your life, each moment felt a little more vibrant, a little more alive.
“Have you seen the menu?” you asked, looking up at him, excitement bubbling in your voice.
He nodded, brushing a lock of hair from his forehead. “I did, and I can tell you right now, I’m going for that pumpkin risotto. It sounds incredible.”
You laughed. “Pumpkin risotto? It seems a bit heavy for someone who just came off a race, doesn’t it?”
“Hey, I need my carbs!” he retorted playfully, nudging your shoulder with his. “Especially after that race last week. I burned more calories than I could count, you know.”
“Fine, but I’m holding you to it. If you fall asleep in the middle of dinner, we might have a problem,” you teased back, stepping inside the restaurant.
The atmosphere enveloped you like a warm embrace—soft lighting, a hint of herbs wafting from the kitchen, and laughter echoing from nearby tables. You felt a buzz of excitement in your veins as you and Lando were led to a cozy corner table.
“So, what are you going to have?” he asked, picking up the menu and scanning it with genuine interest.
You shrugged, pretending to gauge the choices with utmost seriousness. “I think I’ll try the seafood linguine. It’s been ages since I’ve had good pasta.”
Lando’s expression softened, and he leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand. “You know, I love when you get excited about food. It’s one of those little things that makes you… well, you.”
A warm blush crept onto your cheeks. “I didn’t realize you were so observant, Mr. Norris.”
He chuckled, shaking his head. “I notice the important things. Like how you scrunch your nose when you’re thinking, or how your eyes light up when you talk about your favorite books.”
“Okay, now you’re just getting mushy.” Your voice barely hid your embarrassment, but the fluttering in your chest was unmistakable.
You loved how easily he could make you smile.
Their server arrived, and you both ordered. As you waited, the conversation flowed easily, moving from playful banter about Lando’s racing experiences to sharing your dream travel destinations.
“I really want to visit Japan,” you said, your eyes dancing with the thought. “The culture, the food, the cherry blossoms… it seems magical.”
Lando leaned back, an amused smile plastered on his face. “You’re a romantic at heart, aren’t you?”
“Maybe,” you admitted, biting your lip. “What about you? Where would you go if you had the chance?”
He paused, his expression thoughtful. “Probably somewhere quiet. Racing is intense, so I think I’d like a peaceful beach. Just to sit, reflect, and maybe learn to surf.”
“Surfing, huh?” You quirked an eyebrow. “You? I can already picture you wiping out spectacularly.”
“Oh, I’d definitely faceplant! But I’d get back up,” he said, his laughter infectious. “Just like on the track. That’s what makes it all fun, right?”
Before you could respond, your food arrived, and the divine aroma filled the air. You both dove into the dishes eagerly, enjoying the burst of flavors that danced on your tongues.
“This is amazing!” you exclaimed, savoring a mouthful of your linguine. “You have to try this.”
Lando took a bite of your pasta and nodded approvingly. “Wow, that’s really good! But I’ll stick to my risotto for now.”
As dinner continued, the conversation turned more personal. Lando shared stories of his childhood, his dreams, and the pressures of being in the limelight, while you opened up about your own aspirations and the challenges you faced.
“Sometimes, it’s overwhelming,” he confessed, a hint of vulnerability lacing his words. “I mean, I love racing, but it can feel like everyone’s expectations are just weighing down on you.”
You reached across the table, placing your hand on his. “But you’re doing something incredible, Lando. You’re following your passion and inspiring people along the way. Just don’t lose sight of what matters.”
His gaze locked onto yours, lips curving into a smile that reached his eyes. “You always know what to say to make me feel better. I’m lucky to have you around.”
In that moment, you understood something deeper was blossoming between you—a connection that transcended the thrill of racing. It was a shared dream, a mutual understanding, and an undeniable chemistry that lit up the evening.
As the night wore on and the plates were cleared, you felt a mix of contentment and longing. The restaurant buzzed with laughter and conversations, but in your little corner, it was just you and Lando, caught in your own world.
“Next time, we should pick somewhere even more adventurous,” he suggested, a playful gleam in his eyes.
You leaned back, thinking of the possibilities. “That sounds perfect. Let’s make it a tradition.”
Lando grinned, and in that moment, you knew this was just the beginning of something beautiful. You just hope that your feelings won't get in the way. . . .
Layla’s coughs echoed through the empty hall as she wrapped herself tighter in a soft blanket on the couch, trying to drown out the sound of the outside world.
It felt bitterly unfair that her body had rebelled against her just when she’d been looking forward to watching the race with you.
“Hey, Layla,” you called from the kitchen, where you were prepping a few snacks. “I’m heading out now. Are you sure you don’t want to come?”
She turned her head slightly, her hair tousled and her cheeks flushed. “No, really, you should go. I’d just be a downer. Besides, I’d hate to get Lando sick. He’s got that race this weekend!”
“True, but…” you hesitated, feeling the weight of the unspoken words. “I mean, it would have been nice if we could all hang out together. I was kind of hoping you'd be there.”
Layla's smile was faint but brightened her pallid complexion. “I think you’re hoping for more than just ‘hanging out.’ You like him, don’t you?”
You sighed. “Maybe? I mean, after last night’s dinner… I just can’t tell if it was all in my head.”
A soft laugh escaped her lips, quickly followed by a cough. “You actually thought he was, what? Just being polite? You guys were practically flirting all night.”
“Flirting? Really?” You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “I thought he was just being friendly. Charming, even. He’s always like that.”
“Yeah, but that look he gave you? Come on! It was like, 'how do I impress you?’ and 'you’re amazing’ wrapped in one.” She coughed again, and you felt guilt worming its way into your chest.
“Maybe he was just being a nice guy. Or he was bored...” you trailed off, unsure.
“Or maybe he’s into you, and you just don’t want to see it,” she countered, her voice softening. “You should go talk to him. Tonight could be your chance!”
You ran a hand through your hair, pondering Layla's words. What if? What if that spark you felt between you was mutual?
You took a deep breath as you nodded. “Okay. I’m going. Just to check in on him.”
“Good! Now go knock his socks off!” Layla replied, her enthusiasm cutting through her congestion. As you waved goodbye, a quiet mix of excitement and apprehension simmered in your stomach.
You arrived at the paddock, the unmistakable hum of excitement buzzing in the air. The energy of fans waving flags and donning their favorite team colors could be felt all around; it was palpable and infectious.
You took a moment to soak it all in, engaging with the fans milling about, sharing smiles and snapshots that captured the thrill of race day.
But amidst the joviality, you couldn't shake off the knot in your stomach. Lando had been acting differently lately, receiving an outpouring of negative comments and disproportionate criticism on social media.
It made your heart ache to see someone so talented being torn down and misunderstood, especially when he had always been so kind and considerate.
Today was supposed to be about racing, but you had a growing worry that Lando might not be able to shake off the weight that was pressing down on him.
Once you greeted the last group of fans, you made your way through the paddock with purpose. The noise faded slightly as you approached Lando's garage—his sanctuary, where he would armor up for the battles on the track.
The energy there was different; it was practically electric, the team buzzing around, making final adjustments to the car and going over the last-minute strategies.
Still, your focus was solely on Lando.
You searched for him in every nook and cranny, peeking into the bustling pit area and checking around the hospitality suites. But a feeling of dread began to take root when you couldn’t find him.
“Maybe he’s in his driver’s room,” you murmured to yourself, trying to push down the worry that lingered like a shadow.
At the door, you hesitated, your heart racing. You knocked once, then twice, listening for the sound of his voice.
When no response came, you slowly turned the handle and pushed the door open, half-expecting him to be absorbed in some last-minute race preparation. Instead, the scene that greeted you was far from it.
Lando was curled up on the small, worn sofa, hands wrapped around his knees. He jumped slightly at the sight of you, his eyes wide, a mix of surprise and vulnerability.
“Oh Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in,” he said, forcing on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.
You frowned at the sight of him, the dim light casting shadows across his face, revealing red-rimmed eyes. Your heart sank. “Lando… what’s wrong?”
You lowered yourself onto the sofa next to him, the familiar scent of his cologne wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, but it did little to ease your concern.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he replied too quickly, the practiced lightness in his voice clashing with the heaviness in the room.
You could see the slight tremor in his hands, and your worry deepened. You reached out, tentatively placing a hand on his knee.
“You’re not fine,” you said softly, searching his face for the usual spark you loved. “I can see it. Talk to me?”
He looked away, glancing out the window at the racetrack where the cars were roaring around the circuit.
You followed his gaze but quickly turned back to him, determined to break through the wall he had put up. “Does it have to do with the race? Is it the pressure?”
Lando shook his head, something between sad and grateful passing over his features. “It’s not that. Just… a lot on my mind, you know?” His words were heavy, like anchors sinking in deep water.
“That’s okay,” you said, shifting closer to him. “I’m here. You don’t have to go through it alone.”
He chuckled softly, though there was no humor behind it. “You’re always here, Y/N. That’s what I like about you. You make it easier.”
“Then let me help you,” you insisted gently, nudging him with your elbow while you tried to coax out a more genuine response.
“Can I get a hug?” you asked, knowing that physical closeness might be the best way to pull Lando out of the shell he’d crawled into.
He hesitated, eyes darting around the room like a deer caught in headlights. Then, hesitantly, he leaned into you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders.
The warmth of his body was comforting, but as he buried his face against the curve of your neck, you felt the tell-tale signs of him holding back. You hugged him tighter, hoping he could feel the strength of your support.
“Let it out,” you whispered, holding him as he exhaled deeply, searching for words that seemed stuck in his throat. “Please.”
You rubbed his back in soothing circles, the silent rhythm cocooning you both in a bubble of softness. You didn't care if you were basically sitting on his lap; all you cared about was Lando.
“It's just... a lot,” he murmured finally, his voice muffled against you. “The media, the fans—they're relentless. I don’t think I can do it today.”
“Shhh…” you soothed, leaning back slightly to bring his gaze toward you. His big, dark eyes looked lost, a storm brewing behind them. “You’re stronger than they think. You love racing, remember? You belong out there.”
He looked away, swallowing hard. You could see the emotions swirling within him, battling between fear and desire, doubt and determination. “But what if I mess up again? What if…”
“Lando,” you interrupted gently. “What if you do great? You can’t let fear write your story for you. You have to give yourself a chance.”
His fingers found your waist as he held you closer, the intensity in his grip conveying everything words could not. “I just don’t want to let anyone down,” he confessed finally, his breath warm against your ear.
“You won’t,” you assured him, your heart racing with the intimacy of the moment. “Not with me by your side. You have me, Lando; I believe in you.”
With every squeezed breath, the hug felt too tight, arms closing around you, squeezing you, pressing together, inch by inch. You could feel his hesitance melting into something else, something deeper, something that felt like your very own electricity.
Lando was the unpredictable force that set your heart aflame. Those arms wrapped tightly around you felt intoxicating, like a drug that sent your pulse racing when the rest of the world faded away.
His phone buzzed, jolting you both back to the reality of the upcoming race.
“It’s Oscar,” he muttered, annoyance tugging at his features. “I don’t want to go; I can’t face the pit or the cameras.”
You lifted your chin, meeting his gaze fully. “Well, I can’t do this for you, but I can be right there with you. You need to let them see how you feel. It’s okay to show vulnerability, Lando.”
He took a deep breath, and you could see the gears in his mind turning. “What if it’s not enough?” he muttered, but the fire in his voice was finally wavering.
“Enough for who?” you pressed. “You don’t have to perform for them. Just do your race, and I’ll be right there cheering for you.”
“Really?” He looked at you, the hope flickering in his gaze almost enough to make you lean in and kiss him.
“Absolutely. I wouldn’t miss it for the world.” You grinned, feeling the air shift between you, filled with the promise of something more.
Suddenly, Oscar’s voice boomed from the other side of the door, urgent and loud. “Lando, it’s time for the race!”
Lando groaned, clearly annoyed at being forced back into reality. “I guess I can’t hide in here forever, huh?”
“Nope. Now come on, let’s get you out there and show them what you’re made of.” You smiled, standing abruptly and holding out your hand to him.
He hesitated for a heartbeat before taking it, and you felt that warm pull between you. The brief moment of intimacy melded into something more solid as he clasped your fingers. He rose to his feet, tilting his head slightly to find your gaze once again.
“Thanks,” he said softly, his voice clear and stronger now. “For everything. I don’t know what I would do without you.”
“Probably get a lot more nervous,” you teased lightly, nudging him playfully. “But seriously, let’s go. You’ve got a race to win.”
As Lando Norris crossed the finish line for the fourth time that season, the entire track erupted in a symphony of cheers and celebrations.
You could barely contain your excitement, adrenaline surging through you as you pulled off your headphones, the sounds of the race still echoing in your mind.
All that mattered was Lando—your brilliant, talented Lando.
You joined the staff, a vibrant mix of engineers, mechanics, and strategists, who were all equally charged up. The atmosphere was electric, the air thick with the scent of burnt rubber and victory champagne.
You barely noticed the chaos unfolding around you as everyone rallied around the pit area. The crew, those unwavering supporters who had helped you get closer to Lando before, ushered you closer, their enthusiasm infectious.
“Come on! Right this way!” one of the crew members shouted over the noise, grabbing your hand and leading you through the throng.
You felt your heart race as the crowd’s energy swirled around you, anticipation making you giddy.
“Lando! Lando! Over here!” you shouted, waving your arms above your head like a lunatic.
A couple of crew members pointed in your direction, assisting the chaotic dance of the crowd.
And then it happened. His eyes met yours—green and bright like emeralds sparkling in sunlight. Time seemed to slow as he brightened at the sight, a genuine smile breaking across his face.
Without hesitation, he tore away from the crowd, sprinting toward you. The world blurred around you, the cheers fading until nothing mattered but the two of you.
When he reached you, it was like everything else faded away. He enveloped you in the biggest hug, his head tucked tightly against your neck.
Warmth washed over you, and you couldn’t help but laugh with pure joy.
“You did it! I knew you could!” you shouted, the excitement lacing your words as your arms wrapped around his neck.
His grip tightened as he pulled back to look into your eyes, the sexual tension thick between you. Lando's gaze lingered on your lips momentarily, and something about the way he held his gaze left your heart racing.
“I couldn’t have done it without you cheering me on,” he confessed, his breath warm against your skin. “You’re my good luck charm.”
“I think it’s the other way around,” you teased playfully. “You’ve got the talent, but I like to think I add a bit of magic.”
Lando chuckled, a sound like music that echoed around you, making your heart flutter. “Well, keep that magic close then, okay?”
Before you could respond, he leaned in and pressed a quick kiss to your cheek, just a breath away from your lips. Your breath hitched as the world fell away again, your cheeks flushed with warmth and perhaps a bit more than embarrassment.
“I—I should let you go celebrate with everyone,” you said, almost feeling shy as you took a step back, the rest of the team rallying around him with congratulations.
“Hey,” he said softly, his gaze never wavering as he reached for your hand, holding it tightly. “You’re coming with me, right? We have to celebrate together after!”
You blinked, surprised. “Really? Don't you want to celebrate with only your team?”
“I want to celebrate with you too!” He smiled, an infectious grin that made your heart skip a beat. “We’ll carve out our own little celebration. Just us after.”
Your heart soared. You nodded eagerly. “Okay!”
After the podium celebrations ended, the crowd dispersed, and the atmosphere filled with the crackling excitement of victory turned to an afterglow.
Lando Norris, with his signature grin and a trophy held high, had basked in the limelight, soaking up the roaring applause of the fans.
But that was only a moment for him; now, he was dragged away to the media center, leaving you standing at the edge of the pit lane, heart fluttering with the kiss he had planted on your cheek moments before.
You leaned against the pit wall, watching as he disappeared behind a barrage of cameras and reporters.
The warmth of his fleeting affection lingered on your skin, and a smile crept across your face despite the noise around you.
“Thinking about him, I see,” a voice interrupted your thoughts. You jumped slightly, caught off guard as you turned to see Ethan approaching.
He wore a knowing smirk, one that made your stomach twist of embarrassment.
“Oh, hi Ethan, what are you talking about?” You feigned nonchalance, crossing your arms.
“Lando, I’m talking about Lando,” Ethan replied, rolling his eyes dramatically. “Look, it’s clear you’ve got this enormous crush on him, but let’s not kid ourselves. He doesn’t like you like that. He’s just being friendly.”
Your heartbeat quickened for a different reason now—a mix of frustration and hurt. “What do you mean he doesn’t like me? He just won a race, and he kissed me, it was sweet.” You tried to sound more confident than you felt.
“Sweet?” Ethan scoffed. “That was just a celebratory peck. You know how he is with his fans. He flirts with everyone. It doesn’t mean he has a thing for you.”
You rolled your eyes, pushing back against his doubt. “But it felt different. The way he looked at me before he left… Ethan, we’ve talked, we’ve laughed.”
Ethan raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Look, you’re a great person, and I get that you want to believe he’s into you. But do you really think he’s capable of liking someone with all of this fame and pressure around him? He’s got a busy life, and girlfriends are just more trouble in that world.”
The frustration bubbled in your chest. “You sound like my mom,” you shot back, unable to hide the sharpness in your tone. “You don’t even know him like I do.”
“Fair enough,” Ethan said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “But you’ve got to admit, you’re setting yourself up for a huge disappointment here. Just... don’t get your hopes too high. I wouldn’t want to see you hurt.”
His exasperation was genuine, but it only deepened your resolve. “And I wouldn’t want to live my life scared to try because of what ‘might’ happen.”
Ethan sighed. “Okay, I’m not trying to ruin your fantasy. I just want you to be realistic.”
“Realistic or pessimistic?” you countered.
He laughed softly, the tension in the air easing just a bit. “Alright, let’s call it realistic, then.”
“Lando doesn’t like you that way,” Ethan had said, concern etched on his features.
Those words replayed in your head like a broken record, setting a tight knot in your stomach every time you thought of the charming driver.
Just as you attempted to shake off the lingering doubt, a staff member materialized out of thin air, his voice breaking through your thoughts. “Lando wants to see you now.”
“Thanks!” you called out, excusing yourself from Ethan’s company.
You felt a mix of anticipation and anxiety as you navigated through the hubbub of the garage, pushing aside doubts that had lingered since your morning conversation with Ethan.
Finally standing before Lando’s driver’s room, you raised your hand and knocked gently. “Come in,” his voice called out, warm and inviting.
You opened the door to find Lando leaning against the wall, a genuine smile lighting his face, so different from the frown of earlier that day. “Hi, champ!” you greeted him, a spark of joy igniting within you.
“Hey!” he exclaimed, standing upright as he approached you. “I’m really glad you’re here.” His eyes sparkled with a mischievous glint, and you could feel an electric tension crackling in the air between you.
You both settled into a rhythm of lighthearted conversation, laughing and reminiscing about the week’s events, but underneath every playful jab and shared joke, there was an unspoken acknowledgment of the chemistry that simmered between you.
Lando’s gaze felt heavy on you, filled with unexpressed words that lingered just beyond reach.
The air crackles with an unspoken tension as you stare into Lando's eyes, a mix of confusion and yearning coursing through every nerve in your body.
You can feel the warmth of his presence enveloping you, a fire igniting in the pit of your stomach as you try to decipher the myriad emotions swirling between you.
“So,” Lando began, his voice almost a whisper, eyes glistening with something serious, “there’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you.”
His voice quivers with uncertainty, the weight of his unexpressed feelings hanging heavily in the atmosphere, and it sends a shiver down your spine.
Your mind raced back to Ethan’s words: “Lando doesn’t like you, Y/N. He’s just playing around.” You shook your head slightly. You wouldn’t let yourself believe that.
You couldn’t allow the confusion between friendship and something more to blur in your mind; it was too painful.
He said, his tone firm yet tender. “I like you, Y/N.”
“You don’t, you can’t,” you protest meekly, recalling the stinging words Ethan had casually tossed your way, words that left a lingering ache in your chest.
The notion that Lando might not harbor genuine feelings for you feels like a betrayal, an unwelcome specter haunting the edges of this beautiful moment.
“Y/N—” His voice was earnest, but you shook your head, biting your lip to keep the tears at bay.
“Please don’t joke about that. If you don’t like me—if you’re just messing around—then don’t joke about it.” Each word felt like a dagger, piercing through the bubble of hope forming in your chest.
“Why do you think I’m saying this?” he asked, his voice low and laced with emotion. “Why would I bother if I didn’t mean it? This isn’t just some casual fling for me. I care about you, and it’s driving me insane keeping it all bottled up!”
You took a step back, your back hitting the closed door. “Lando, please, you can’t say that!” Tears began to stream down your cheeks unbidden.
“Why not?” he challenged softly, moving closer again, his gaze intense. “Why can’t I? Are you really going to deny what’s been between us? You feel it too right?”
The truth in his words shattered your defenses. “Lando, I—” Your voice broke, and the words tumbled out, heavier than you imagined.
“I’ve never been someone’s first choice before. It’s hard to believe that you actually want me.”
“Then believe me,” he urged, his hand gently cupping your cheek, wiping away a tear with his thumb.
Lando’s arms wrapped around you, pulling you close as he whispered, “You deserve to hear it, and I mean every word.”
You melted into him, your head resting against his chest while he held you tightly—firmly yet gently, a safe haven amidst your unraveling emotions.
He didn’t flinch as the tears soaked his shirt.
“I’m scared,” you admitted, sniffling against his shoulder. “I don’t want to lose this.”
“You won’t lose me. Not ever,” he promised, pulling back slightly so he could look into your eyes. “Just give us a chance. I won’t hurt you.”
After a long while, you managed to calm down, your heart still racing but your breaths a little steadier. Lando pulled back just enough to look you in the eyes; the concern etched on his face warmed you.
“Can I kiss you?” Lando asked, his voice laced with just a hint of uncertainty, as if he feared this moment would evaporate into thin air.
Time seemed to stand still as you considered his question. You could feel the heat radiating between you, a magnetic pull that drew you closer.
This was the moment you had both been dancing around, the very reason for the tension that crackled in the air.
You felt a flutter in your stomach at the question, your body reacting before your mind could catch up. “Yes,” you finally breathed out, the single word filled with yearning.
His eyes sparkled, and he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. But you didn’t; if anything, your heart raced as he brushed his lips against yours, soft and hesitant at first.
His lips met yours in a soft, tender kiss that spoke volumes of the feelings you both had kept hidden for too long. The world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you wrapped in a warm embrace, filled with the promise of love and acceptance.
As the kiss deepened, you felt an overwhelming sense of relief and joy. It was as if everything you had fought against—the doubt, the fear—melted away, replaced with the certainty of Lando’s affection.
You knew, right then and there, that you had finally found someone who would stay, who truly wanted you for who you were.
When the kiss finally broke, you rested your forehead against his, your hearts still racing from the intensity of it all. “I’m sorry I pushed you away,” you murmured.
“Don’t be,” he replied softly. “I’m just glad I finally got to you.”
And in that moment, surrounded by a haze of newfound love and vulnerability, you both knew that this was only the beginning of something beautiful.
Something that you both deserved. . . . .
#lando norris x reader#lando norizz#lando norris#lando x reader#lando imagine#miami gp 2024#oscar piastri#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n#lando norris x oc#x you#zoro x reader#x reader#formula 1#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fic#formula one#formula racing#lando x you#lando x y/n#mclaren#mclaren f1#mclaren racing#mclaren formula 1#mclaren formula one#f1 2024#miami grand prix
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onlyangel4 1k event - P2. LH44. SMAU.
trope: soft launch
pairing: lewis hamilton x actress!reader
faceclaim: candice patton
y/ninsta posted a story
written: exciting things happening today
mercedesamgf1 posted a story tagging y/ninsta
written: actress y/n y/ln has joined us down in the silverstone paddock today !
y/ninsta posted a story tagging lewishamilton and georgerussell
written: the merc boys have arrived in style!
y/ninsta posted a story
written: huge congratulations to sir lewis hamilton on his home win
f1wags
liked by user1, user2, user3 and 129,384 others
f1wags: so lewis has just confirmed that he is in a relationship !
when asked about how he was going to celebrate his win his answer was "i'm probably just going to go home with my girlfriend and watch a bad film, that is how we celebrate everything"
when asked to elaborate on who is girlfriend he just shook his head, laughed and walked off
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user1: i am much too nosey for this shit, lewis i need to know who she is
user2: he looked so happy when he was talking about her and that is what he deserves
user3: i an just happy he finally has someone
lewishamilton posted a story
written; wins are so much sweeter with you by my side
y/ninsta posted a story
written: date night!
lewishamsightings posted a story
written: lewis with a fan in central london today !
y/nfan posted a story
written: y/n is up for a bafta tonight, fingers crossed !
lewishamsightings posted a story
written: lewis has made a surprise appearance at the baftas
y/ninsta posted a story
written: i just got home and de-glammed i just wanted to say i love you all and thank you all for helping me win my first major acting award, i'm crying while typing this
y/ninsta posted a story
written: this is how i got home because i was "too emotional to walk"
lewishamilton posted a story
written: so obsessed with you
y/ninsta
liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell and mercedesamgf1 and 2,19,231 others
tagged: lewishamilton
y/ninsta: it has now been a month since i won that beautiful bafta (which is currently sat on the trophy case watching me write this) i have one final thank you to make. a massive thank you to the man that ran lines with me for this role, the man who convinced me to audition for the part in the first place, the man who has been by my side for two brilliant years. i love you more than anything in the world lew, i could not have done this without your constant support.
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lewishamilton: i am so incredibly proud of you my love
y/ninsta: i love you more than anything
mercedesamgf1: thank you for finally hard launching y/n now i don't have to spend hours editing you out of the back ground of pictures
y/ninsta: thank you for your service admin
carmenmundt: does this mean i can finally post our double dates
y/ninsta: of course my love
user4: wdym two years, how tf were we so blind
user5: i love them so much
∘•···············•∘ʚ ♡ ɞ∘•··��·············•∘
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#f1#f1 x reader#f1 fanfic#f1 smau#f1 fandom#formula 1 smau#formula one smau#formula 1#formula one#f1 social media au#lh44 social media au#lh44#team lh44#lh44 x reader#lh44 smau#lh44 fic#sir lewis hamilton#lewis hamilton#mercedes amg petronas#mercedes amg f1#lewis hamilton social media au#lewis hamilton x reader#lewis hamilton x you
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kerosene (part 2) // ellie williams
*・゜゚・* summary: the one where she breaks up with cat.
*・゜゚・* pairing: jackson!ellie x reader
*・゜゚・* content: sfw
*・゜゚・* length: 0.8k
this is part two of this series! find part one here
I AM ENJOYING WRITING THIS SO MUCH i literally don't want them to get together because i just love yearning so much sighhh. i'm already up to the part where things finally happen and i know i'm gonna end up posting those, then going back and writing little extra parts to slot in where they're still friends. anywayyy hope you enjoy <3
something about the conversation makes ellie deliberate for weeks. it was the way you’d spoken about your relationship just not feeling ‘right’, the way she couldn’t really verbalize anything she felt like she should say about cat. she doesn’t know if she’s just overthinking everything. cat’s great. sure, she can’t see herself spending the rest of her life with her, but she makes her happy. they have fun. they have things in common. she feels like she starts to make a mental list of all the reasons they’re together, analyzing the relationship, analyzing her own feelings. she can’t shake the notion that now they’re settled in, the excitement of newness gone, she, too, feels like something isn’t ‘right’.
she hopes it just goes away on its own. but when just over a month passes and nothing has changed, she knows she has to just do it.
it starts off as a regular day; she meets cat at a spot they frequent, stomach churning at the anticipation. she wants to just rip the band-aid off, but she can’t. the words won’t come out. she flounders around for a while, talking about nothing, knowing full well cat can tell something’s up. finally, when she straight up asks her why she’s being weird, she just comes out and says it. she wants to break up.
of course, she feels awful. cat’s confused, and crying, and asking all kind of questions ellie can’t really express any answers to. she’s upset about it, too. but she just knows in her heart it’s for the better.
it’s cemented when she’s walking back home, realizing she feels a little lighter.
she sees you properly again about a week later, when there’s an event in jackson. she really wasn’t planning on going, not wanting to risk seeing cat (not wanting to have to interact with anyone, pretty much), but dina had convinced her, saying she ‘can’t lock herself away forever.’
she walks in late, party already in full swing, and immediately spots you in the corner chatting to jesse. you haven’t actually spoken in a few weeks, just a greeting when you saw each other out and about, but you seem happier than you were before. she kicks herself mentally when she finds herself hoping it’s not because you’ve found someone new.
she awkwardly hovers around, getting herself a drink and sipping it, people watching. these things were never her idea of a great time.
after about ten minutes, dina appears at her side, visibly tipsy. “what the hell are you doing?” she asks playfully, gesturing at the room full of people. “you’re a single woman now, c’mon. get out there.”
ellie pulls a face, rolling her eyes and taking a sip of her drink. “yeah, that's definitely my style.”
dina lets out a short, exasperated sigh, taking ellie by the wrist and tugging her across the room, towards you and jesse. “at least socialize. you’re all… weird. more than usual.”
“oh, shut up,” she retorts lowly, but allows herself to be hauled over to the two of you. her stomach flutters slightly when she gets a proper look at you; you’re a little more done-up than normal, eyes sparkling in the warm light as you greet her.
she doesn’t know if it’s the alcohol or something else, but that night is the first time things start to feel explicitly different. on one hand, it’s similar to how it was before — the odd pleasantness dissipated in the air. it feels more like a real friendship again, rather than two people dancing around each other. but on the other, something just feels… new.
she actually ends up having a really good time. she spends the majority of the night with you, drinking more than you both probably should, conversation flowing easily. and when it’s over, she insists on walking you home, despite you saying dina’s staying the night and you weren’t going to be alone anyway.
she just shrugs and smiles.
on the short walk back, dina’s chatting your ear off, thoroughly drunk, but you can’t really focus on anything she’s saying. not just because of the fuzzy feeling in your head, but because of the way you’re so, so aware of ellie’s presence. you’re walking in between them, noticing the way she seems to gravitate towards you, swaying away slightly, then back in. you cross your arms, not wanting to accidentally brush against her, not really understanding why.
she lingers at the door when you get home, dina heading straight in and kicking her shoes off, flopping down on your couch.
“well… thanks. you’re free to go,” you joke after a small pause.
ellie shoots a lopsided smile, leaning against the doorframe. “welcome.” she pauses, like she doesn’t want to go, like she wants to say something. but she doesn’t. she just taps the doorframe and stands up straight. “see you later.”
dina yells out a ‘bye, ellie’, and you wave goodbye as she turns around to leave, trying not to think about the way that smile sent your stomach all funny. “get home safe. update me on the hangover.”
she looks over her shoulder at you as she walks away, chuckling. “will do.”
you go to close the door, watching her stuff her hands into her pockets and make her way down the street for a moment too long.
#tlou#tlou2#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie williams fluff#ellie x reader#ellie x you#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams x you#ellie williams tlou2#wlw fic#lesbian fic#my writing#livvieloveswomen#seraphicsentences#lvlymicha#sapphicarribean#chappellroankisser#lil-elliesgf
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Giving thanks for..
Genre: smut, enemies to lovers.
Word count:2.8k+
Warnings: rough!ni-ki, shy!y/n, fingering “under the table”, worshipping, unprotected sex, teasing, dirty talk, praising, throat-fucking, hate-fuck. Note: I love making these stories idk why but they peak my interest so much!! I know it’s not thanksgiving yet but imma be busy on those days I’m off, but plz enjoy :3 and take care of urself 💕🙏🏼
You’ve been enemies for a really long time. Ni-ki, which you couldn't stand him, had been teasing and humiliating you throughout school. But then, out of the blue, he invited you to his family's Thanksgiving dinner. Sure, there would be the usual “I‘m grateful for…” moments, so you figured nothing too surprising would unfold, right?
Today you were just chilling at home alone while your parents were at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving dinner, you felt bored, alone. Of course you didn’t want to go because you didn’t feel like it. But once you finished an hour call with them, you stared up at the ceiling from the bed.
You sigh in boredom, sitting back up from the bed. “What am I gonna do, I’m all alone.. I guess I can make dinner for myself and watch some Netflix or something.” Suddenly you receive a notification from your phone, you assume “oh! Maybe my parents sent a picture of themselves!” You check but your excited expression turns into shock and confusion.. it says: “Hey y/n, sorry to annoy you as always lol 😂, but anyways I was wondering if you’re interested in coming over to my house for thanksgiving I have no one to enjoy besides my parents.”
“What?! Ni-ki.. he seriously invited you to his thanksgiving dinner, seriously?” You tell yourself blankly staring at the message for minutes. You roll your eyes and reply:
“Fine. 😒Only because I also have nothing to do, fine I’ll come over. What time?”
He types back: “Around 6PM, it will just be a normal thanksgiving, nothing out of the ordinary. 😊”
…
It’s 6PM and you’ve just arrived in front of his home, and you ring the doorbell. You stand there waiting for him or someone to open. You know you look stunning in that red dress, which perfectly highlights your curves without being overly short. Then Niki opens the door, “Hey y/n, come on in, I’ll introduce you to my parents.” As he gestured you to walk in. “Thank you.” You say, as he shuts the front door leading you to the dining table. You see a neatly organized dinning table, with a candle in the middle.
Ni-ki clears this throat and speaks, “Mom, dad. This is y/n, a “friend” of mine I invited, I hope you guys don’t mind her.” His mom replies, “N-no we don’t mind! Hello, y/n. Please I don’t mind you inviting her over, please sit down and join us for dinner today.” You look at his mother and smile politely, as you take your seat. “Hello, Mrs. It’s nice to meet you, it’s kind enough of your son to invite me over, since my parents are at their hometown enjoying thanksgiving.” His father speaks behalf, “Oh no worries! That’s very nice of our son to do that, inviting someone like you over, you seem a very well polite girl so there’s no harm in that.” Ni-ki then sits down next to you, “Yeah, I felt like that’s a nice thing to do behalf that it’s thanksgiving, we should be kind to each other, right y/n?” As he says that sarcastically.
You feel a bit nervous about meeting his parents, but you manage to smile and nod. “Of course, it's a good thing to invite friends over." You say softly, trying not to show how anxious you really feel. To pass the time waiting for the dinner his parents and especially you talk about how you’ve been, your parents, mostly about your life. But then his father asks, “Do you have a boyfriend yet, young lady?”
You blush slightly, feeling a little embarrassed by the question. "Well, I haven't found anyone who really catches my interest yet," you admit shyly.
"Maybe one day soon though!" You add quickly, hoping to change the subject before things get too awkward.
But it gets interrupted as soon as the food arrives. You smell all of the delicious aromas wafting from the dishes. "Wow... everything looks amazing!" You exclaim enthusiastically, trying to cover up your earlier blunder. “Who’s cutting the turkey today?”
Niki looks around, his parents and you seem to be waiting for someone to cut into the turkey. He takes a deep breath and stands up. "I'll do it," he announces confidently. "After all, it's Thanksgiving.” With that said, he walks over to where the turkey is sitting and grabs a knife. He gives it one swift stroke, carving off a piece of meat before placing it onto a plate. You can’t help but deny the way he looks in that suit, the way he picks up that knife, it’s like you wanna touch him.
But you then take a bite of some turkey and gravy - it's even better than it smells! As you all savor the meal throughout the evening, saying what you’re grateful for, besides Niki.. and of course, remembering to keep dinner etiquette in mind, everything was smooth. But soon enough you feel ni-ki leaning against you, his hot breath in your ear. “You look damn good in this dress.. I can’t help but notice it so much.” You blush deeply at his compliment, your heart pounding in your chest. You're not used to receiving compliments like this, especially not from someone as attractive as him. “T-thanks.. I mean I have to look presentable to your parents..” After you finish your food, you place your fork down gently and lean back in your chair. You take a deep breath to calm your racing heart. “Was the food good, sweetie? I made it this morning.” His mother smiles softly at you.
Before you could respond, you feel a hand sliding up and down your thigh making you gasp quietly. “What the..” you mutter to yourself, as Ni-ki continues doing that under the table. You try to play it cool despite losing focus on the conversation.
"O-oh, your food was amazing!", you respond sincerely, doing your best to ignore Ni-ki’s wandering hand. "I've never had such delicious mashed potatoes before..." He then leans over you and whispers with a small smirk, “I didn’t invite you just for a normal thanksgiving, I also wanted something else.. to tease and make you feel humiliated in front of my parents.” But then, Ni-ki’s mother speaks trying to get your attention, “Sweetie? You okay..? I was asking you where do you plan to go for vacation next month with your parents?” Ni-ki then slides your panties aside and inserts 2 fingers inside you without warning.
“O-oh! I was thinking maybe Thailand-ah!” You say making you blush in embarrassment, “Sorry about that.. it’s just something accidentally hit me. You shift uncomfortably in your seat, doing your best to keep a neutral expression.
“Thailand sounds lovely! It’s a wonderful place to travel.. when I was young..” she continues talking while you continue trying to hold your moans infront of them two. “Ni-ki.. stop that.. it’s embarrassing..” you whisper to him. “Come on~ your pussy deserves my fingers in you now, you make me crave you so much in that dress.” He says in a low, sultry voice.
His mother notices the blush on your face and the discomfort in your voice, but assumes it's due to the heat of the room or perhaps nervousness from being in new surroundings.
"Oh dear, I apologize if we're making you uncomfortable. We just love sharing stories about our travels!", she says reassuringly.
“N-no Mrs.. it’s not your fault it’s just it’s a bit hot right now.”, as you manage to choke out between stifled moans. Ni-Ki’s father then speaks, “We’ll clean up the mess, why don’t you show her your room.”
Ni-Ki inserts a third finger, making you moan quietly. “Yes of course father, I’ll kindly show her my room.” And with that both of his parents head to the kitchen with the dirty plates, and utensils. You finally pull his hand away from your pussy, “What was that for Ni-ki!? You can’t just do that while I’m talking to them.. that’s embarrassing. I nearly came all over your hand.” He winks, “Oh really? because I really wanted that pussy of yours.. I couldn’t resist.” “Now come on, let’s head to my room, shall we~?” He takes your hand to make you stand up so you can follow Ni-ki upstairs to his room. Once the door is closed behind you, he pins you against it.
"You know," he murmurs seductively, "Your little moans were music to my ears..." Before you can respond, he silences you with a passionate kiss. His tongue explores your mouth while his hands roam freely over your body. “I should worship your pussy.. eating you out, making you moan..~”
You quickly responded blushing deep red. “N-no that’s a bad idea.. especially right now..” Hearing your protests, Ni-ki pulls away with a playful grin. "What's the fun in all this if we don't take risks?" He teases, pressing himself closer against you. “No im going home, I’m not doing your kinky ideas with you.” Ni-ki seeing you attempt to leave, grabs your wrist tightly. "Running away so soon?" He chuckles darkly, pulling you back towards him. Without warning, he kisses you passionately once more. His other hand reaches down to cup your breast roughly through the fabric of your dress.
“Mmph! F-fine I want it! But this is a one-time thing, we are still enemies.” You stumble to say, as he releases your wrist and moves to unzip your dress hastily. "Just remember..." he whispers into your ear, "This doesn't change anything between us..." And with that, he pushes you onto his bed and begins undressing you fully, and he kneels in front of you. “Let me worship your pussy.. I can tell it’s already wet from my fingers, naughty girl..”
"F-fine! Go ahead," you finally relent, biting your lip nervously. “But only this once." His tongue laps at your clit with expert precision, causing waves of pleasure to ripple through your body.
"Mmm...so tasty..." he murmurs against you before continuing his relentless assault on your sensitive nub. “Ah~! Fuck.. k-keep going..” you moan but you quickly cover your mouth making sure no one hears you. Ni-ki increases the pressure of his tongue on your clit. His hands grip your thighs tightly, holding you in place as he devours you and makes your legs tremble, "Oh God...I'm close!", you gasp out, writhing beneath him. Noticing your impending climax, Ni-ki slows his pace slightly, prolonging your torture. He looks up at you with a devilish grin.
"Not so fast, sweetheart..." he purrs, "I haven't finished yet." You whine desperately, “N-no please I’m close! I need to cum..”
"Oh, is that so?" he teases, trailing his tongue along your inner thigh. "That's the point isn't it?" he teases again, "To feel pleasure so intense that you can barely stand it?" “N-Niki!" you cry out, clenching the sheets beneath. "Please...don't tease me like this! I really need to cum.. come on.” Niki chuckles darkly, his eyes filled with mischief as he watches you squirm underneath him. He knew how to push your buttons, knew exactly what to say and do to get a rise out of you. “What's wrong, sweetness?" he purrs mockingly, "Can't handle a little teasing?" You whine again and looks at him with pleading eyes, “No! I mean yes! Just shut up and let me cum! You asshole! Please.. I need to cum so badly..!”
Niki laughs, his hot breath tickling your skin as he leans in closer.
He takes a moment to savor the desperation lacing your words. "Fine," he concedes, sliding a finger inside of you. "But only because I want to see those pretty eyes roll back into your head." “Yes please..! I’m gonna.. fuck! Gonna..”, You quickly grab a pillow to cover your moans as you cum onto his face. Niki licks up every last drop of your sweet release, savoring the taste of you on his tongue. He pulls back slowly, standing up to look down at you with a satisfied smirk. “Good girl, I might just fuck you right now while we at it, how about you ride me?”
"No way I’m not riding you! You’re an asshole!” As you stand up from his bed. “Plus your parents are washing dishes, we can’t just do that..they might hear us!” He smirks pushing you back onto the bed, “Oh come on.. we could make some noise, who cares about them..” He tries to persuade you. “You might like it when you’re handcuffed, I have them.”
You roll your eyes and scoff at him, “Ugh.. whatever I’ll ride you while I’m handcuffed…” “Really?” Niki asks surprised, “Well alright then.” He goes to his drawer and takes out a pair of handcuffs. “Put these on.” “Alright.”, you say as you hold out your wrists for him to cuff you. Once he locks them, he smirks, “Fuck, you look sexy like this, handcuffed.. I can easily do anything to you.” He reaches down and unzips his pants, freeing his thick member. It throbs slightly as it bobs free from its confines. "Here," he says, offering you his shaft. "Why don't you start by sucking on this?"
“Alright, I’ll please you..” You say as you lean down taking his cock in your mouth. You bob your head slowly licking his tip before sliding down further, taking half of his dick in your mouth. Without warning, he thrusts deeper into your mouth. His cock hits the back of your throat, causing you to gag around him. “Mmph!~Too big and deep.!” You manage to say while he doesn't stop though; instead, he continues to fuck your face ruthlessly.
You tease him back by saying, “I’ll pull my mouth out-” “No you won’t,” he says. “Or else I will kick you outta of my house and make sure you never return.” Then he forces his way inside your mouth again, his member hitting the back of your throat, forcing another round of gags from you. As he keeps fucking your throat, you slap his leg hard, trying to signal him to stop. Ignoring your weak attempt to resist, Niki continues to thrust into your mouth. He can feel the familiar tingling at the base of his spine, signaling his imminent release.
"That's it..." he groans, "I'm gonna cum..."
Before long, he explodes inside your mouth. His hot seed fills your mouth and spills onto your chin as he rides out his orgasm. "There..." he pants, "That wasn't so bad was it? Now why don't you get those pretty legs of yours moving and ride me like a good girl." “O-okay..” You stutter out as you position yourself to sit on his cock despite being handcuffed. With a single thrust, he buries himself deep within you.
"Fuck..." he groans, "So tight..." As he begins to move beneath you, bucking his hips upwards to meet each of your downward thrusts. The sound of skin slapping against skin fills the room as they make love roughy. "Ride me baby," he growls, "Show me how much of an asshole you think I am." “Fuck.. you..! Ah~!” , you moan out quietly. “J-just don’t thrust up more..” “Oh, is that what you want?" He teases, "Don't worry, I'll make sure to keep things gentle for you." Despite his promise, he continues to thrust up into you ruthlessly. His large member filling you over and over again until both of you are panting heavily. "You like that?" he growls quietly, "You like being fucked by an asshole like me?"
“I hate you so much! Ahh~” you continue to moan out as you start to ride him faster, grinding your clit against him as you ride him. Niki groans deeply as you grind against him, his hands gripping your hips tightly. He can feel the heat building up within him again.
"Fucking hell..." he mutters, "You're such a naughty girl..." With one final thrust, he buries himself deep inside of you. His hot seed spurts inside of you as he releases inside of you. “Fuck.. I’m cumming too..!” Niki grunts as he feels you tighten around him, your own climax rippling through your body. He can feel every spasm and twitch of your pussy as you cum. "Good girl," he murmurs, "That was quite the show." As he uncuff and removes the handcuffs from your wrists, “There.. am I still an asshole to you, y/n? Despite panting you responded, “n-no.. you were good, I give you that. I guess we aren’t really enemies anymore.”
Suddenly you both hear a knock, his father was yelling from the door while Ni-ki’s mother was standing next to him, “Ni-ki, y/n, Are you okay? I hear some noise and wanted to make sure you guys were okay!”
Niki sighs as he hears his parent's voices, realizing that they've been too loud. He quickly pulls up his pants and straightens out his shirt. "Yeah dad, we're fine," he calls out, "Just having a little fun." He looks at you with a smirk, "Guess we better clean up real quick."
You smirk and laugh at him, “I told you this could’ve happened.” He laughs softly, "Yeah, you did." Niki gives you a playful wink, "Maybe next time we should try to be quieter especially you, y/n." As he listens to his parent's footsteps fade away, he relaxes again. Turning back to you, he grins mischievously. “One last thing.., I’m grateful today for eating your pussy, y/n.”
#Writercookies🎀#enhypen#ni ki#enhypen niki#niki enha#nishimura riki#niki x reader#niki x y/n#enha fanfic#enha smut
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decided to watch all of buck’s breakups last night and here are (part) of the conversations/how each of the breakups played out to compare and contrast if you so desire. i didn’t include the entire conversations because it would be too long and i think the parts i included capture the core of the breakups well enough.
note: information in square brackets is just some context i included since i didn't add the full conversations
buck and abby, breakup, 1x10:
[after abby’s mom passes and she books a ticket to ireland in an effort to find herself and what she wants]
abby: “. . .i care about you so much. you’re amazing. and these last few months, i think you've gotten me, at least halfway, to the person i want to be. but I've got to do this [go to ireland/travel] so that i know i have something to give.”
buck: “i’m excited for you. almost as much as i am, um, sad for me. i’m gonna miss you.”
abby: “i’m gonna miss you, too.”
[when buck is dropping her to the airport]
abby: "you're not gonna come in with me?"
buck: "i learned a while ago, you never go beyond the glass doors."
abby: "i must be crazy to be leaving you behind."
buck: "you're not leaving anything behind. you're moving toward something. and i'm gonna be right here when you come back, okay? go on. you got this, okay?"
abby: "take care of yourself, okay?"
buck: "you, too, abby."
buck and abby, ‘closure’, 3x18:
[after abby and buck meet for the first time since 1x10 when she and her finance are in a train derailment and buck + the 118 save his life]
abby: “. . .i just had no sense of self. i had to leave everything that i knew so that i could remember who i actually am.”
buck: “and you did, right? i mean, you did remember, but you still didn't come home.”
abby: “yeah, i know. i think i was afraid that if i came back, i would become that person again. because i missed you. i wanted to see you. but i didn't trust myself.”
buck: “because being here, being with me, you might lose yourself again?”
abby: “yeah.”
buck: “i’m glad to see you happy, abby. you deserve it.”
—
buck and ali, 2x18:
[after buck’s leg gets crushed under the fire truck and it hits ali what it means to be with a firefighter]
ali: “. . .look, it’s not like i didn't know you were in a dangerous line of work when i met you, you know, ten stories up of a collapsing high rise.”
buck: “exactly.”
ali: “that was one day. one day of my life, evan. it’s every day for you. i’m just starting to really understand what that means.”
buck: “wait, so-so you want me to quit my job, that's what you're asking me to do?”
ali: “no, i would never, i would never ask you to do that. listen. i know it's who you are. i’m just not sure. if it's…”
buck: “…who you are.”
ali: “hey. i don't know yet. okay?”
—
buck and taylor, 5x18:
[after taylor publishes the story about jonah buck had asked her not]
taylor: “. . .i’m sorry you're still upset about the story.”
buck: “you’re not sorry for what you did, though.”
taylor: “the story was gonna come out regardless. if i hadn't have broken it, someone else would have.”
buck: “you couldn't have called me first? no. you-you just, you figured i’d be fine. i’d get over it.”
taylor: “buck, i wasn't trying to hurt you or anyone else. i was just trying to get the truth out there. a truth the public has every right to know.”
buck: “this is literally our first argument all over again.”
taylor: “which is why we shouldn't be having it. you knew who i was when we started dating.”
buck: “i guess i thought i could learn to live with it.”
taylor: “i don't want to be something you have to learn to live with.”
buck: “and i don't want to keep on making the same mistakes. i need things to be different, taylor.”
taylor: “okay. i’m willing to try that. clean slate.”
buck: “yeah. just not together.”
—
buck and tommy, 8x06:
[after bucks tells tommy that he also dated abby]
buck: ". . .my relationship with abby was—it was the most transformative of my life. until now. look, i-i think one of the reasons that i am so comfortable with you is-is 'cause you're so comfortable with you."
tommy: "i wasn't always that way."
buck: "i know, i-i do. and honestly, it just makes me admire you more."
buck: "i want you to move in with me. i want you to move in with me. i-'m ready to take the next step. and i'm not saying let's get married or engaged, even though we would have the right, thanks to the brave people who came before, including you. all I'm saying is, why be apart when we can be together?"
tommy: "evan, that is so sweet but I can't move in with you."
buck: "and why not?"
tommy: "because, i know how this ends."
buck: "uh, wh-what's that supposed to mean?"
tommy: "look, evan. you're an incredible guy. big-hearted. hot as hell. funny. impulsive. but what you're feeling right now is... is new. and it's exciting, and it feels like forever. but you're still figuring yourself out. and that's good."
buck: "what are you saying?"
tommy: "i'm saying no matter how bad i wanted to be, i'm not your last. i'm your first."
buck: "well, hey, they-they can be the same thing."
tommy: "but they usually aren't. if i were to move in with you, you wouldn't mean to, you wouldn't plan for it but you'd end up breaking my heart. and i, i don't think that i could deal with that."
tommy: "i should go."
buck: "wait, wait, wait, hey, hey, um... wait, d-did you just break up with me?"
tommy: "yeah. i guess i did. believe me, i didn't see it coming, either. should've known that parking spot was too good to be true. i'll see you around, buck."
#evan buckley#bucktommy#i’m not really sure who this will be of interest to lol but these were the conversations in case anyone’s curious#let me know what yall think
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I bought your 'Empire' the other day (which I am excited about; I haven't started it yet), but somehow completely missed that you had written historical fiction, and about the Plantagenets, my favourite historical dynasty, so I'll be jumping on that.
I was wondering if you had recommendations for historical fiction set during the Plantagenet reign? I've tried Sharon Kay Penman and unfortunately didn't get on with her writing, which is a shame as I've heard good things about her series. I know Philippa Gregory has several novels set during that time period, but her books seem to be verging on bodice rippers, which isn't what I'm looking for. Was just curious if you had any suggestions for well-researched fiction set during the Plantagenet reign.
This ask has been sitting in my inbox for several days (my apologies) largely because I was trying to think of a more helpful answer for you. Medieval historical fiction is VERY hit and miss for me, not least because it is often written by people who, uh, are not historians and thus have Certain Ideas (TM) about what the medieval period is like. Or they want to use various aesthetics, or they want to make some (usually questionable) point about how women were treated in the past, or they just go whole-hog on total nonsense. As an example of all of these things at once, let us all stare in horror at this recently-released book description together:
(The book is called the Stone Witch of Florence, by the way. I took one look at this and ran screaming. WHY.)
A stone witch?? So she channels the power of gemstones like a modern-day Instagram healing crystals influencer??? BUT ZOMGZ WITCHCRAFT. In the middle of the Black Death. "Unorthodox cures" you say. But they also need holy relics for protection, and I totally trust the author to understand about medieval hagiography/cult of the saints. Totally. We definitely won't get some half-baked comparison between Sekrit Women Magical Gems Which Really Work and Dark Ages Church Superstition Holy Relics Which Are A Fraud, or.... something??? And our nobly mistreated protagonist will super definitely be a real physician if she gets these and never ever accused of witchcraft (which LET US ALL SAY IT TOGETHER IS AN EARLY MODERN THING!!!!) Because medieval medicine was just a bunch of gemstone vibes anyway! Makes total sense!
...my head hurts.
Anyway, while not all examples are this egregious, the point is: I love historical fiction, but I almost always can't read it when it's set in the medieval era. I read Sharon Kay Penman a while ago and enjoyed her stuff at the time, though I have assorted gripes with it on a stylistic/historical level. While Philippa Gregory does have real academic credentials, she likewise has gone totally down the bodice-ripper alternate-history crackpot theory Secret Women Magic version of things, which is... fine if that's your jam, but just like you, it is not mine. I thus have to read fiction which is set in other periods or which I know less about or where at least I am more capable of turning off my brain and accepting things for the sake of the story. So as you see, I unfortunately don't have many useful suggestions for you in this field, since the kind of medieval historical fiction that I like to recommend is, say, The Name of the Rose. Which is terrific and written for someone of a professional medievalist's level of knowledge, but is not exactly everyone's cup of tea when they just want something fun and easy to understand.
I am, of course, happy to give other book recommendations if you'd like to broaden your request, and I'll do my best to think -- but yes! As I said, I wish I could be more helpful here. I shall persist.
(Also, of course: thanks for buying EMPIRE! I do hope you enjoy.)
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☁️Invisible| George Clarke
Summary: you have a crush on George, but you don't believe you're good enough for him, little do you know you're just his type.
It wasn't unusual that you were the last person someone picked, whether it be for a teams in games or dates; you were the black sheep. You were outgoing, a bubbly person but was shy at the same time. You'd recently joined content creating and started on TikTok, expanding your taste palette for new ideas you came across a guy name George, he posted funny skits and impression videos, although you weren't the type to do those things, his content inspired you to create something new. You decide to follow him.
You post a haul of your shopping trip to b&m, showing your followers the new things and dupes along the way, you were an eye for bargains and anything similar to the expensive price tags. Racking just over 70,000 followers in just a short few months you were invited to a pr event with White Fox. A brand that you'd never personally purchased from but you did love their products, you accepted through your management and agreed to vlog/promote the brand at the event.
You were so excited, your first Pr opportunity. Tears form in your eyes from joy as you make a video "hey guys i have some exciting news! I've just been invited to my first pr event with White Fox, I'm going to vlog my whole experience and break it down for you guys along the way, I'm so grateful to be able to have these opportunities thanks to you guys watching!" You say with beams of happiness as you sign off the video and upload it.The event was 3 days away so you had time to prepare. You placed your phone on charge whilst you did the laundry, a time you like to take off social media and block out the outside world, although it's your job.
After your small detox you open up your phone, lots of TikTok notifications flooding through with congratulations when two stood out to you.
@georgeclarkeey liked your video
@georgeclarkeey started following you
Your eyes widened in shock, a creator you took inspiration from had followed you, you wasn't sure why all your content being girly related but non the less you were buzzing. You responded to a few comments on your video for a while as you sipped on an iced coffee, when a message popped on your phone.
@georgeclarkeey: "hey sorry for the random message, I saw your video about your pr event and I just wanted to firstly congratulate you on it, you're doing really well! Also I am aswell invited to the event, wonder if you'd like to meet there? Don't want it to come across weird haha"
Your mouth ran dry, a sense of shock and excitement overboard your body, how could someone like George Clarke want to meet me you thought, you were never people like George's cup of tea, the lonely kid in school who'd eat alone and now a big creator asks to meet you. You hesitate to reply incase you make a fool of yourself, strumming the confidence to reply.
You: hi! aw thanks for that, I appreciate it! It's been a shock to the system to say the least haha, I'd love to meet up, I'd know nobody there apart from my management so you'd do me a solid!"
You smile into your phone like a schoolgirl with her first crush, George was undeniable attractive he had a big girl following and everyone went crazy for him. You were quite fond of him yourself to say the least. @georgeclarkeey: "no problem at all, it's always a shock when you get your first but honestly the only way from here is up, would you like to meet at the event or beforehand? A coffee or something?"
You: "a coffee sounds great, let me know where and I'll be there, thanks for being so kind"
@georgeclarkeey: "perfect! I'll text you a coffee shop closer to the event so we won't have far to walk afterwards also it's my pleasure! Nice to see some other varieties of content surfacing, your contents lovely to watch"
Shut the front door. THE George Clarke telling you your contents lovely to watch? You're kidding. The world seems fake right now, so many emotions rushing through you.
You: "Thankyou George, it means a lot, I've took a lot of inspiration from your videos to try and open my confidence up a little, so you could say your contents helped me in ways to boost my career"
You continue to chat, getting to know eachother.
-
Day of the White fox Event
Your nerves were setting in, your first event meeting new people and also meeting up with George. You opted for a some casual clothes, baggy mom jeans and a white crop top with a flannel shirt over the top. Your makeup as basic as normal, a touch of brow gel, a pop of mascara and some skin tint. Nothing major. You make your way into London to meet George, he'd text you the address beforehand, a 2 second walk from the venue. Your hair cascaded over your shoulders as the London breeze hit your skin, a mix of crisp and warm air. Just as you get to the coffee shop your stomach sinks, what if he doesn't like me? Thinks I'm weird? The battles of your overthinking brain looms and looms as you step in, there he was, blue eyed and handsome.
His eyes shoot up as you walk through the door, a warm smile makes it way over his face "hey, glad you could make it" he says arising from his seat to hug you, a mixture of mint and aftershave flooded your nostrils as you embraced him for a hug "I wouldn't have missed it for the world, how are you?" You reply sitting down "ah I'm good, busy but good, yourself?" He replies "same really, not so much as busy as you probably but yeah, I'm excited" you smile, his gaze wandering down to your lips as you spoke as shivers tingle down your spine. You talk over coffee for a while before heading to the venue.
"You ready?" He says with a warm smile opening the door for you "I think so" you chuckle nervously "you'll be fine, don't worry I'm here if you need anything" he says with a reassuring tone which wrapped around you like a warm blanket of safety. You give your names to the people at the desk and collect your lanyards, you pull out your phone to introduce your video.
"Hi guys, I've just arrived and the nerves are kicking in, I'll try to film as much as I can for you all, trying to sink into the reality of it all along the way and make new friends which I seem to have-" you were interrupted by George poking his head in "she's already made one friend, well should I say I practically befriended her" he chuckles placing a hand on your shoulder as he walks to grab a drink. You put your phone away, saving the footage, George Clarke in your video would be a big shock to your fanbase for sure.
The night goes on and you meet new creators, have interviews with some labels and tell everyone on how you got into influencing, the night couldn't have gone much better; George was there to reassure you when you felt nervous and just guide you through the whole experience which you were thankful for. There was an after party, but you opted not to go.
"Leaving so soon?" George asking raising a brow, "yeah sorry, parties aren't really my thing, Thankyou for tonight George I appreciate it a lot" you say smiling "we could go grab a drink elsewhere if you wanted, just me and you?" He says, you were taken a back by his response that he wanted to leave the event, to be with you, in a strange turn of events you'd never imagine something like this would happen, you weren't up to beauty standards nor were you a model, why did he want to go for a drink with you? "You don't have to, I wouldn't pull you away from your friends" you reply "you're not, you're my friend and I want to have a drink with you" his sweet smile returns, a gaze of sincerity plastered over him like a genuine interest in you loomed inside him "okay, maybe just a quiet one" you say as he nodded, you said bye to everyone and left, scoping out a bar to indulge in.
You chatted for a while at the bar, like you'd known eachother a life time and not just a few days, you got on like a house on fire, taking in eachothers interests. It's like no matter what you said, did or how you acted George would always match your energy and it comforted you. After a while you call it a night, it was getting late. You walk out the bar as you book an Uber home
"I've really enjoyed today, Thankyou" you say with a soft smile "me too, normally I hate pr just because of the social interaction, but you've made it easy to bare" he says laughing "well atleast I could be of some use" you retort, silence looms over you as George stares at you for a little longer than normal "can I kiss you?" He says nervously, your eyes widen "really?" You say shocked "is that okay?" He says "yeah-just nobody's ever wanted to kiss me" you say nervously "why not, you're really pretty, funny and easy to get a long with" he says brushing his hand against yours, with a soft smile as he cups your chin and places a soft kiss onto your lips, a magnetic shock goes through you like it was something you had longed for a while, a connection that felt so right. You pulled away and stared at eachother for a minute as you sink in the reality of what had just happened. You exchange numbers and arrange to meet up again, turns out your worrying was for nothing, you were just his type.
-
🫶🏻
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Okay, once again I feel insane watching this. Everyone is screaming about how adorable and sweet it is for Kant to be jealous and how lucky Bison is......
Kant orchestrated the whole thing! He wasn't jealous, because Tawan was never an actual threat. There is no cuteness here!
He intentionally stood Bison up for hours and paid another guy to hit on Bison so that he could appear infatuated and worm his way into Bison's heart. But it's impossible to be jealous/possessive over someone when you know the third wheel isn't a threat (and you in fact paid them to be there!) so there is zero cuteness here, sadly.
Yes, I agree Kant wants to sleep with Bison again, it definitely rocked his world in a way that it did not for Bison (that moment where Kant was hyping up their first night together and Bison looked unimpressed made me giggle). But Kant's #1 motive for hanging around Bison is just for his mission. He says in the first 30 seconds of the first episode that he has no interest in dating and only does one night stands. He might want more of that dick, but he is fully playing at everything else.
I am, however, excited for next week when Kant gets desperate to break into Bison's home and makes this bet which we know is going to end up with some very fun BDSM and also some very tasty Kant learning he actually wants to give up control in bed. I think when Bison begins to reveal his actual preferences and Kant begins to actually cede the dominance battle and stop being such an alpha-male flirty himbo, then we'll finally see progress.
Bison will start to find some value in Kant besides a way to feel flattered and have a life outside of his job (Bison states in this episode that he just wants Fadel out of the way to live his life, not to date Kant), and Kant will start to become actually fond of our little psycho assassin and the freedom Bison gives him via giving up control. But I don't think either of those things have happened at this point yet!
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so based off the poll results, majority wanted me to write these one shots for a Marauders' Band AU. So here's the first one:
Remus Lupin does the BuzzFeed Puppy Interview:
Remus shoots the camera his shy smile that makes people’s stomach do the thing. “Hi there, I’m Remus Lupin and I’m here with Buzzfeed to answer some questions with puppies.”
He’s wearing an all-black outfit: a black knit sweater that looks warm, paired with black trousers and sturdy black boots. His right wrist is adorned with bracelets; a plain black one with the word ‘moony’ next to a full moon, a beaded one with a star and moon on the centre and a band that reads ‘The Marauders’ with a wolf, dog, deer and rat. His left wrist is free, but he has multiple rings on those fingers.
“I’m really excited and also a bit nervous, because I love dogs. I really do. But I want them to love me too, so,” he ends with a chuckle.
“I don’t know if they’re going to like me.”
Cuts to a clip of a puppy licking his entire face.
“I don’t know if we’ll connect.”
Cuts to a clip of Remus carrying two puppies, with another in between his legs.
“And I doubt I’m going to be able to answer your questions in any form, when I’m-Oh my god!” He’s cut off as a golden retriever runs towards him.
“Hi,” he says, letting the puppy smell his hands.
Remus coughs out a breathy laugh as the golden retriever jumps into his lap. Just then, a pair of corgis start nibbling on his shoelaces, to which Remus laughs and mutters, “You two are trouble, aren’t you?” They reminded him of James and Sirius.
Remus laughs for ten seconds as a Jack Russel walks slowly towards him and wastes no time on laying his head on Remus’ thigh and starts to fall asleep.
“Hi loves, I’m Remus” he says, as one of the corgis joins the golden retriever on his lap.
Question 1- What’s your favourite thing about meeting fans?
“It’s just this…really nice feeling I get. Like I feel giddy, whenever a kid waves at me or some fans who’ve said that our songs helped them in tough times. It just gives this sort of nice feeling,”
“No..no,” he says as a corgi pulls on his sleeves, “this is one of my favourites, you can-okay then.” He finishes in defeat, as it manages to pull out a string.
Question 2- What’s the hardest part of being in a band?
“No privacy,” says Remus, he himself startled by how fast he answered. “I mean like...” he says, rubbing the Jack Russel’s belly, “When you live with James and Sirius, who have co-dependency issues, and Peter, whose love language is physical touch, you’ve got to throw personal space out the window.”
Question 3-Describe the way you see your bandmates.
Remus is quiet for a while, as if he’s thinking, while letting the puppies climb all over him.
“There’s James, who I connect with like a brother. He is a ray of fucking sunshine and if I am insecure or sad, he makes me listen to all the 764 reasons for why he loves me. And then there’s Peter, who is like the calmest person I know. He is the friend you need when you just want someone to listen to you. He is always there for you, even if he never says it, you’ll still know that he’s there for you.”
He smiles as the golden retriever settles on his shoulder and one of the corgis has decided to take a nap on top of Remus.
Remus starts with a smile, “And well there’s Sirius, who is one of the most beautiful souls out there. He’s one of the first people that made feel valued and always looked at my scars like they were some kind of treasure. He’s also made me realize a lot of things about myself and uh…yah, our bond is a bit more…special than the rest, and we’ve come a long way, and I wouldn’t trade it for anything else.”
“I am scared to move,” he whispers, as the Jack Russel snores loudly on top of his thighs, golden retriever asleep on his shoulder, a corgi on his belly and the other held within his arms.
Bonus puppy stuff:
The corgis start fighting with each other. “Am I supposed this stop this or something?” Remus asks, looking lost. Just then one of the corgi trips and falls on the sleeping Jack Russel. It opens its eyes, confused. Remus bursts out laughing, which ends up making his face as red as a tomato (and that's a win for all the video editors out there).
PS: Its my first draft btw. i guess ive done good. lmk if its bad, i need honest feedbacks. also gonna put this on ao3, which is my first time ever. and this is set in pre-wolfstar period or they are established but hiding it from public (choose whichever you want)
#marauders#marauders era#remus lupin#sirius black#james potter#peter pettigrew#mauraders#the marauders#band au#sorta pre wolfstar#first draft btw idk how to feel
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Peter Maximoff x fem!reader
Summary: Peter stays by your side, bringing comfort, teasing, and a love that feels like home
Warnings: fluffy, light teasing, emotional comfort, mild suggestive language, established relationship, hurt&comfort
A/N: This was my first request and I was so excited! I hope you like it (and damn, I'm head over heels in love with it)
Materlist
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It was hard to explain how someone like Peter had become the most important person in your life. He was a force of nature: fast, unpredictable, and impossible to ignore. From the day you met, he had never seemed afraid of you.
No, in fact, he found your power fascinating. It was strange, honestly, especially after spending years surrounded by people who feared to hear your voice. Your parents always suspected, but it wasn’t until your ninth birthday, when you showed up with a brand-new BMW in front of the house – just a simple request and the salesman himself drove the car over – that they knew their little girl was not like the other kids.
“You have a voice that can make anyone do whatever you want? What kind of comic book villain are you?” he teased at your first meeting, a mischievous grin spreading across his face as he leaned in closer, his dark eyes shining with curiosity.
“I’m not a villain, Peter,” you replied, crossing your arms in mock indignation.
“Oh, sure, Miss ‘do as I say.’ And I’m Captain America.” He shrugged, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “If it were me, I’d make people bring me food all the time. Or let me win at Pong.”
“You don’t even need help with that, cheater.”
He laughed, tilting his head to the side as if about to respond, but instead, just looked at you for a few seconds. “I think that’s what I like about you,” he said suddenly, the tone surprisingly serious. “You stand up to me. It’s cool.”
You tried to hide the heat rising to your cheeks, but something in that moment stayed with you. Peter never looked at you like someone dangerous or different. To him, you were just… you.
And he never changed.
The years passed, and Peter continued to be the same boy who was impossible to keep up with. He spoke too fast, thoughts racing faster than his words, and loved to tease you.
“Are you really going to pretend you didn’t hear me?” he said, leaning against the doorframe, holding a Twinkie like it was a prize. “I know you’re in there. I’m going to count to three… One… Two—”
“Peter, if you annoy me, I swear I’ll make you leave here singing Abba in the square.” You hoped your voice sounded like a real threat, even though a smile fought to spread across your face.
“Oh, the power of the magic voice.” He rolled his eyes, taking an exaggerated bite of the sweet, cream smearing across his lips. “I knew I should’ve brought earplugs. What an amateur I am.”
And you just laughed, shaking your head as he kept talking, always jumping from one thought to the next without pause.
Your friendship was like that: full of teasing, laughter, and an intimacy that felt natural. It was easy to be with Peter, easy to forget the complicated world outside when he was by your side.
On that particular night, in the basement of his mother’s house, you realized just how much he meant to you. You had spent hours together, surrounded by old pillows and wrapped in the soundtrack Peter insisted was “essential to understand the decade.”
“You have to admit, Bowie is a genius,” he said, pointing at the tape player like it was a work of art.
“I admit he’s good,” you replied, raising an eyebrow. “But not as good as Queen.”
“What?” Peter placed a hand on his heart, pretending to be offended. “Take that back now, or I’ll be forced to challenge you to a Pong duel!”
“You always want Pong,” you muttered, but the challenge in his eyes made you laugh.
You spent what felt like hours playing and arguing about bands while sharing the almost endless supply of sweets he always hid. After a lot of laughter and sugar, you both fell asleep side by side in the middle of the mess.
You woke up first, senses still numb. It took a moment to realize where you were, who you were with. Peter’s arms were wrapped tightly around you, holding you close to his chest. His breath tickled the top of your head, and you could feel each rise and fall as he inhaled and exhaled. It was a feeling... good. Being held so tightly by him. You sighed, pressing your face into the curve of his neck. There was something there, a scent mixed with the warmth of his skin, that made your heart race.
Without realizing it, you gently pressed your nose to the soft flesh, letting his scent fill your lungs. The skin felt so soft, so smooth. What would it feel like to slide your lips across it? The thought triggered an alert in your mind. Friends didn’t think these things.
“Hmm… you’re smelling my neck now?” he murmured, his voice still rough with sleep sending shivers down your spine, making you feel even guiltier.
You pulled back as if you’d been shocked. “I… No!”
He opened one eye, the familiar glint of teasing starting to show. “Of course not. Didn’t notice a thing.”
You huffed, pushing his shoulder, determined to put some distance between you. “Stop, Peter.”
He laughed, but you felt the heat in your face as you looked away. Because, at that moment, you realized something you had been trying to ignore: you were in love with your best friend. Was there a greater tragedy?
And that thought stayed with you ever since, buried too deep for him to notice. Because, deep down, you knew Peter had always been the kind of person who could pull a smile out of you, even on your worst days. (...)
The week had been a real nightmare.
Since Monday, obligations seemed to pile up like an avalanche. Exhausting training sessions with the team, a particularly complicated mission involving a hostage rescue at an enemy base, and the weight of final college exams. Even your powers weren’t much help—quite the opposite. Convincing someone to cooperate with your siren voice required extreme mental control, and using it during the mission only added to the emotional exhaustion you were already carrying.
“You’ve got this, Siren’s Tear,” Kurt joked, trying to lighten the mood as he adjusted the communicator.
You smiled at him, but the smile didn’t reach your eyes. Siren’s Tear. It was a nickname Peter had made up, a mix of joke and admiration that had spread among the X-Men. Normally, it made you smile. But this week, it felt like an extra weight.
The mission had been chaos. Explosions, confrontations, and life-or-death decisions in a matter of seconds. Even with Kurt’s teleportation and Ororo’s storm control, the enemies were better prepared than expected. You found yourself cornered more than once, forcing your voice to a dangerous limit to make guards lower their weapons. When it was all over, you could barely stand.
And yet, there was the rest of the week waiting for you: piled-up studying, reports for Professor Xavier, and a persistent feeling of inadequacy that whispered you never did enough.
When Saturday finally arrived, your body and mind were at their breaking point. All you wanted was a moment of peace, a break from missions, responsibilities, and any reminder of how difficult it was to balance the two lives you led.
It was in this state that Peter showed up.
You barely had time to process his entrance, as he appeared the way he always did—unannounced, without ceremony, with that playful smile plastered across his face. He held a bag of Twinkies in his right hand and a copy of Space Invaders in the left, as if there was no chance in the world you wouldn’t want to spend the next few hours with him.
“Hey, Siren’s Tear, missed you,” he said, completely ignoring the pitiful state you were in. He threw the bag of snacks on the sofa and started rummaging through the stuff on the table, talking so fast you could barely keep up. “I thought maybe we could relax a bit. I know you’ve had a crazy week, but guess who got the highest score at the arcade? Me. Of course, it was me. And I thought—”
“Peter…” you started, your voice hoarse from the repeated use of your power over the past few days. The pressure in your head was so intense you could almost imagine it exploding.
“—that maybe you could try to beat my record. But good luck, because I’m unstoppable. Seriously, they should rename the game ‘Peter’s Challenge’. What do you think?”
“Peter, stop.” You looked at him with no trace of humor.
He finally looked at you, confused, but with that smile still there, as if he couldn’t imagine that you weren’t on the same wavelength as him.
“Are you okay?” he asked, tilting his head, his dark eyes like coal examining you from head to toe. “You look like you could use a Twinkie. Or two.”
You closed your eyes, trying to take a deep breath, but fatigue and irritation finally broke through your self-control.
“I don’t need Twinkies, Peter!” you exploded, your voice louder than ever. “I need a minute of peace! Just one minute, without you talking nonstop, without you messing everything up, without you… Without you annoying me! Can you just disappear for a while?!”
The room fell into absolute silence. Both surprised, not knowing how to react. You had never shouted at him, not really. The weight of your words made your shoulders sink, a bitter taste in your mouth.
His eyes were wide, surprised, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Peter Maximoff, the boy who never stopped talking, was speechless.
You realized the gravity of what you’d said in the same instant, but before you could try to fix it, he took a step back, the usual smile replaced by something much sadder and more vulnerable. You had never seen him look so sad. Regret made your stomach burn.
“Wow,” he murmured, his voice low and hesitant, fingers fidgeting nervously. “I… didn’t know you could be influential without your powers.” He commented, his voice dry and brittle.
You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but he raised a hand, as if asking you to stop.
“It's okay,” he said, forcing a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.”
“Peter, don’t—” He disappeared long before you could finish your sentence.
The characteristic sound of his speed faded as quickly as he did, leaving only a heavy silence behind.
You stood there, frozen in the middle of the room, your hand still extended in the air, the words you wanted to say stuck in your throat. An overwhelming wave of guilt washed over you, along with the emptiness left by him. Tears came before you could stop them, flowing hot and silent as you collapsed onto the bed.
Why did you have to explode at him? Why did you have to hurt the one person who always made a point of being by your side, even when you didn’t want to be?
You knew Peter had good intentions. He always had. He just didn’t know how to show them the right way.
But now, he was hurt.
And for the first time, you felt completely alone.
(...)
Three days.
Three days without a sign of Peter.
The Xavier mansion, always so full of life, felt suffocating now. You could barely look at the familiar faces around you without feeling a tightness in your chest. Everything seemed darker, slower, as if the world were mirroring the whirlwind inside you.
The others noticed, of course.
“Are you okay?” Jean asked, her voice soft as she touched your shoulder. You just shook your head, unable to respond. There were no words for the weight of regret you felt.
Even Logan, always so distant, paused as he walked past you in the hallway and gave you a concerned look. “If you need anything, anything at all, let me know,” he said, his voice low and serious.
But nothing helped.
You barely ate, barely slept. When you closed your eyes, all you saw was Peter’s face, the sad smile he tried to hide before disappearing.
“I’ll do what you want. I’ll disappear.”
His words echoed in your mind like a curse, a constant reminder that you had done what you never thought was possible: pushed Peter Maximoff away.
He had always been there. From the first moment, when you arrived at the mansion nervous and lost, he was the first to break the ice. You were startled by his repeated closeness. One moment you were alone, and the next he was right in front of you, all silver hair and easy smiles.
“So, what’s your power?” He leaned in, eyes narrowed as he looked at you with interest. “Can you make people give you free pizza? Because that would be impressive.”
It was a silly question, of course, but the way he said it—with that crooked smile and energy that was impossible to ignore—made you laugh for the first time in weeks.
And from then on, he had been a constant in your life.
You played Space Invaders until your hands hurt, stole treats from the kitchen on midnight missions, and spent hours in his basement (his mother’s) listening to records of bands he insisted were the best in the world. You knew he had tough moments, but he never let it show. He masked the pain with jokes and speed, and you loved him for it—the lightness he brought to your chaotic world.
Now, his absence felt like a hole in your chest.
On the third day, you were sitting on the living room sofa, staring at a book you hadn’t managed to get past the first paragraph, when you heard Kurt and Ororo talking in the distance. A draft of air carried his words to you.
“Peter didn’t show up for training again today,” Kurt said, his voice full of concern. “This isn’t like him.”
“He didn’t come to breakfast either,” Ororo replied. “Do you think he’s okay?”
Your heart sank the moment their words reached you. It was as if the world had stopped, leaving only the deafening sound of guilt pounding in your ears.
Peter wasn’t okay.
You knew that.
Rising, you left the room without saying a word, ignoring the curious looks from the others. Each step felt heavier than the last, but you knew what you needed to do.
Deep down, you already knew where to find him.
The Maximoff house had a peculiar charm that always made you smile. A mix of the '70s, nostalgia, and controlled chaos that perfectly suited Peter. But today, as you climbed the steps to the porch, your heart was too heavy to be swayed by the usual sense of comfort.
At the door, holding the stack of sweets and the pizza box—the favorite of both of you, with extra pepperoni and that crispy crust Peter always called “a gift from the gods”—you took a deep breath before knocking.
Mrs. Maximoff opened the door almost immediately, with her warm smile and curious eyes. “Oh, dear! It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!” she exclaimed, pulling you into a tight hug.
“Hi, Mrs. Maximoff,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady.
She stepped back, holding your face for a moment. “You look... tired. Are you okay?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Actually, I came to see Peter.”
Her expression softened, but her eyes shone with a touch of concern. “He’s in the basement. He spends most of his time down there lately.” She hesitated before adding, “He misses you, you know? And so do I. You bring good energy to this house.”
Her words were simple, but they hit hard. You gave a small, shy smile and a “Thank you,” before heading down to the basement, your heart pounding too fast in your chest.
As you descended the steps, a familiar soundtrack began to fill the space: the sound of an intense pinball game, interspersed with muffled music from a nearby radio.
Peter was in his element.
The first thing you noticed was the speed. He darted back and forth across the basement in a typical frenzy, alternating between playing the arcade game, taking bites of a Twinkie, and making quick adjustments to the stack of vinyl records by the old record player.
For a moment, he passed by too quickly, the movement so fast it looked like a silver blur. But even so, he paused long enough to take a good look at you. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the tired expression, and, most of all, the look of regret that seemed to weigh on you like a second skin. And, of course, you still looked beautiful as always, in one of those summer dresses that left your shoulders and collarbone on full display. God, he loved those dresses, and loved seeing you wearing them even more.
Peter went back to the arcade as if nothing had happened, but his game slowed down a bit, the movements less precise. It was enough for you to catch up.
He looked the same as always, but completely different. There was a crease between his eyebrows, his hair was tousled, and he looked disheveled.
You set the pizza and sweets on a makeshift table full of empty wrappers and called out, your voice wavering, “Peter, can we talk?”
He stopped pressing the buttons but didn’t turn around right away. For a moment, he stood there, his shoulders rigid, before straightening and turning to face you. “Sure. I’m all ears.” You felt small under his gaze.
The attempt to look nonchalant fooled no one. The tension in his jaw, the slight crease between his brows, and the arms crossed over his chest told another story.
You stepped forward, hesitating, really trying to find the right words. “I came to apologize. I was wrong, Peter. I was exhausted and overwhelmed, but that’s no excuse for yelling at you. I... I hurt you, and I’m sorry. You’re my best friend and... I really want things to go back to normal. For us to go back to how we were before.”
His eyes narrowed slightly, and he shook his head, letting out a long, heavy sigh. The gesture made your heart drop, as if you were falling off an endless cliff.
“No,” he said, his voice low but firm. A punch to the stomach wouldn’t have hurt as much.
“No?” you repeated, unable to hide the confusion and tightness that overtook you. Your heart sank in your chest, the feeling like falling.
Peter rubbed the back of his neck, clearly uncomfortable, shifting his weight between his legs. “I don’t want things to go back to normal,” he explained, his voice even lower, almost a whisper.
You blinked, completely bewildered. “What does that mean?”
He took a step toward you but stopped, maintaining a small distance. His eyes met yours, and the intensity in his gaze made you hold your breath.
“It means that I’m sorry too,” he began, his voice heavy with emotion. “I shouldn’t have provoked you like that, especially when you were already exhausted. But... I do it because...” He stopped, clearly struggling to find the right words.
“Because what?” you urged, feeling your palms begin to sweat.
This was it—Peter was a tiny step away from ruining everything again. But damn it, he had to risk it. He couldn’t just pretend he wanted to be just friends. How could he? It was painful to be so close and so far away at the same time. He needed more; he wanted more.
“Because I like your attention, okay?” he finally blurted out, his voice louder than he intended. “I like when you look at me, even if it’s to tell me to shut up or roll your eyes. I like when you smile at my stupid jokes, even if you pretend you don’t find them funny. And, damn, I like being near you.”
“Peter…” you began, but he raised a hand to interrupt you.
“I know, I know,” he said, laughing nervously. “I’m terrible at this. That’s why I always hide everything behind jokes and teasing. But... it’s true. I like you. I really do. And I don’t want things to go back to normal, because, to be honest, ‘normal’ was never enough for me.”
You stood still, each of his words piercing deep into your chest, but in a sweet, almost painful way. He was there, completely vulnerable, and you didn’t know if it was possible to love him more than you did at that moment. Your heart slammed against your ribs with each painful beat.
He felt the same. Peter felt the same.
You felt tears prick your eyes, but you kept your gaze locked on him, taking in every word.
“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” you finally said, your voice heavy with emotion.
He raised an eyebrow. “Is that good or bad?”
“It’s annoying,” you replied, a small smile playing on your lips. “But it’s also… everything I needed to hear.”
His eyes widened slightly, shocked by your confession. “Really?”
You shrugged, feigning casualness, but your smile gave you away. “So, are you going to kiss me or keep stalling?”
The surprise on his face turned into a mischievous grin. “Oh, so now it’s me who’s stalling?”
“Peter,” you warned, but he was already closer, so fast that you barely noticed the movement.
His hands cupped your face, purposefully slow, still with a small smile curled on his lips as he moved closer and closer. Your eyes closed as you felt his breath intertwine with yours, his sweet breath making you imagine that his mouth must be even sweeter. Gently, his lips molded to yours, remaining that way for a moment before he pulled back. You felt his chest rise and fall unevenly, as if he had run around the planet. Peter murmured something, too fast for your ears to understand.
The next second his lips pressed against yours again, hungry. His hand went down your spine, firming on your waist to pull you closer, crushing you against his chest as his lips explored your mouth. You sighed as you felt his tongue, soft and warm, slide across yours, kissing you deeply. He kissed you for what could have been an eternity, stealing the air from your lungs, turning you into a fragile creature dependent on the caresses of that wicked mouth.
When you separated, he refused to stop kissing you, rubbing his lips along your jaw, leaving love bites on the side of your neck, adoring every part of you, as if to make up for all the lost time. Small noises of pleasure escaped your mouth, your knees barely seemed capable of keeping you upright, so your hands quickly found support on his broad shoulders. “Peter.” You sighed weakly, feeling your face heat as he straightened, leveling your faces. His mouth was red and swollen, with a crooked smile, his eyes darker than ever.
“I should do this more often,” he teased, his voice low and husky, his fingers still kneading the soft flesh of your waist.
You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the smile. “Maybe.”
He chuckled, gently brushing your hair away from your face, looking at you more closely. “You’re tired, aren’t you?” he asked, his tone more serious now.
“A little,” you admitted, shrugging, afraid of ruining the moment.
“Then I think it’s time for you to rest.”
“But—” He didn’t allow any objections, guiding you to the bed nearby, wide enough for both of you. He settled down beside you, pulling you to lie against him. His fingers traced calming circles on your back. “You can’t send me away anymore, got it?”
You nodded, your face pressed against the curve of his neck, inhaling the familiar scent that dulled your senses. The accumulated exhaustion finally began to ease. “But I can still make you dance to ABBA in the street.” You joked, smiling as he shuddered dramatically.
“Do your worst, you little troublemaker.” He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, then another to your temple, and countless others until he reached your ear. “Ask me to stay,” he whispered, and just because he could, he nipped the sensitive skin just below.
You shivered, holding him tighter in your arms, feeling his chest vibrate with a silent laugh. Raising your face, you used your siren voice. “Stay with me, Peter.”
His eyes widened in surprise, staring at you for long seconds before his lips curled into a devilish grin. “Fuck, can you do that again? Please, we need to test your powers when—”
“Peter.” You cut him off with a laugh, burying your face back against his chest, feeling your cheeks burn at the direction the conversation had taken. “Later, okay? Can we just rest now?”
“You don’t have to ask twice, love.”
The familiar sense of security you always felt around him returned in full force, but this time there was something more. Something deeper, more intimate.
With your face pressed to his neck, you hesitated for a moment before placing a soft kiss there, a silent thank-you for everything he was.
Peter tightened his embrace, and for the first time in days, you felt whole.
#quicksilver#quicksilver x reader#peter maximoff#peter maximof x reader#romance#idiots in love#evan peters#request#ask me to stay#fanfiction#fluffy#hurt/comfort#x men#evan peters x reader
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Stuck Together (TF Prime Knock Out)
pairing - Knock Out x F!Reader
summary - just a few short scenarios between you and the mad doctor if the Autobots got stuck on the Nemesis with the Decepticons
warnings - none
a/n - just some thoughts i had, not enough works for this bot, who happens to be my favourite after Bumblebee
The situation between Autobots and Decepticons had never been more awkward or uncomfortable. Stuck in the same location, forced to get along to avoid complete destruction of the Decepticon ship. Tensions were at an all-time high with both sides being in such close proximity but unable to do anything.
You couldn't bring yourself to care much, not when you were occupying the same space as a certain Decepticon doctor.
"Again, Starscream? What is it this time?" The mad doctor spoke without looking up or turning around, too engrossed in buffing his own arm to notice it was actually you.
"I always wondered if his footsteps sounded the same as a femme's, with those heels he calls peds," you mused.
This made Knock Out turn, "Oh, it's you." He sounded rather excited, his disinterest from just now being replaced. "Don't tell me you got into another fight."
"Okay, I won't," you shrugged and sat on his operating table.
The red mech sighed, "May I ask why is it that you came to me? Your medic is also on board."
"Ratchet doesn't like to be bothered while he's working," you told him. "And he's already on edge just being here. But I suppose you wouldn't want to attend to an Autobot, right? I'll just leave."
"No, wait!" He quickly stopped you, "I mean, usually no. But I can make an exception for you."
"Oh?" You raised an eyebrow. "That's flattering."
"So what was it this time?" He asked you as he tended to your very small (he noticed) dent.
You groaned, "I swear, your fellow cons act like they've never seen a femme before. I know you guys have only Airachnid, but that's no excuse to try and get touchy with me."
"I see."
The doctor hid it well, but he was burning with both anger and jealousy. How dare the vehicons attempt to put their servos on you in any way, even if you were an Autobot?
"It wouldn't be such a problem if it was you, however."
The Deception froze at those words, then looked at you, "You want me to harass you?"
"Don't say it like that!" Your faceplates burned. "I just meant...I wouldn't mind if you were the one taking an interest in me." You looked away. "I should go."
"Do I get to say what I think about that?" He drawled, his usual smirk plastered to his face.
"Uh-"
He suddenly came in very close, his face mere inches from yours. His blood-red optics flickered from your bright blue ones to your lips, and the desire in them was unmistakeable.
"I think you underestimate just how interested I am in you."
And then he was kissing you.
Because Cybertronians don't need to breathe, this continued for a while. You ended up kissing for what felt like hours, until someone else walked into the cons' medbay needing assistance.
"Knock Out, I-"
You both jumped apart, turning to see an astonished Starscream standing there staring at you with wide optics.
Before any of you could say anything, you tripped Knock Out, shoved Starscream aside and ran off. That seemed like the most logical thing to do at the time, to eliminate suspicion.
"What was that?"
"What is it you want now, Starscream?" The doctor asked, returning to being disinterested.
"Did you just-"
"I'm quite busy you know, get on with it."
"I-"
And the red Decepticon continued to gaslight the second-in-command into believing that nothing had happened.
-
"What is this?"
Knock Out looked up as you examined one of his tools, a small smirk forming on his lips as he watched you. Though he would never admit it out loud, he found your intrigue...adorable.
"That would be an isoprobe."
"I...don't know what that is," you laughed and set it back down, with surprising gentleness. "I assume it's important."
"Mhm," his optics continued to watch as you navigated his lab, pride swelling in his chassis as he observed your fascination with everything in it.
He initially thought he could overcome his little crush on you. Never had he been so wrong, because despite being an Autobot he was starting to feel like you were the other half of his spark. His sparkmate.
You noticed his gaze, and quickly stopped touching things, "I'm sorry, just curious. Ratchet doesn't allow us near any of his things."
"No, by all means continue," the mad doctor encouraged you, "I quite like seeing an inquisitive mind wandering around my lab. Especially one so pretty. Makes working here easier."
Your faceplates burned, "Oh...Well in that case..." You walked over to him, "Mind telling me what you're doing, doctor?"
He shivered. Having you this close to him with you calling him that was really not helping his attraction to you. It was, in fact, inspiring him to think other, less appropriate thoughts, as well as imagine you pressed against him, holding him as he worked.
"I...seem to have forgotten."
You laughed a little bit, "May I suggest something else then?"
He nodded, and you closed the distance. Once again, you were kissing the Decepticon medic, hands on his shoulders while his found your waist.
You were starting to like this forced closeness.
-
"Why, you-!"
"What's going on here?"
You walked into the Decepticon med bay slash lab to see Knock Out and Smokescreen right up in each other's faces, each yelling insults or mocking the other.
"How dare you?!"
They did, however, stop and turn their helms when you walked into the room, Knock Out's optics going wide.
Then, like sparklings, they pointed at each other.
"He started it!"
You groaned and face-palmed, "I don't care who started it, just stop it. We don't need any unnecessary fights you two. Now step away from each other."
To your satisfaction, they obeyed.
"Smokescreen, I think Optimus wanted to speak to you anyway," you told the Autobot mech, who was gone in a flash after that.
"He scratched my paint!" Knock Out protested.
"I don't want to hear it," you sighed and grabbed his buffer, moving over to helo him with his grievance. This wasn't anything new with him, so you got used to doing it for him in the short time that you had been here. "What did you say to him?"
"I didn't say anything," the con medic lied.
You rolled your optics, "Knock Out."
"Fine! I told him his vehicular form is uglier than mine."
"...Mechs," you sighed.
Knock Out calmed down a little after that, watching you tend to his scratch. He had no idea, but the adoration held in them was so obvious it made you flustered.
"Stop staring at me with those creepy optics."
"Hey! You said they were pretty!"
"You're right. They ARE pretty. Your face is the problem."
He knew you were teasing him, and he quite liked the fact that you were making an effort to make him smile or laugh. No one else had ever done that for him, much less be nice to him. He didn't ever receive a thank you or a compliment, but while you'd been here you'd given him all of that and more.
"You like my face, admit it."
"I do, I really do."
-
"(Name)? What are you doing still awake?"
Knock Out couldn't keep the concern out of his voice, his optics scanning your clearly exhausted form. It looked like you hadn't powered down in days.
"I couldn't sleep," you admitted. "Too jumpy."
"Even with Optimus Prime by your side?" He asked, surprised.
"Yeah. They put us in another room to power down. Still, I can't help but worry about them. I have to stay awake."
Knock Out frowned deeply. It troubled you to be on this ship so much that you couldn't even power down peacefully? Megatron himself had ensured no conflict, due to the threat of the Nemesis being destroyed, but you still worried.
"Why don't you power down with me, then?" He suggested. "I was just about to finish for the night. And your friends will be okay."
"Are you sure?" You mumbled, tired beyond measure. "I don't want to bother you."
"Come here, sweetspark," he cooed, pulling you against him. "I've told you before, you're never a bother to me. So stop worrying and power down with me."
"Okay," you smiled tiredly. "I love you."
The Decepticon medic froze in his movements, his arms around you tightening. He couldn't believe the words that had left your mouth, and tried to convince himself you were too tired to know what you were saying. It wasn't real. You didn't mean it.
"Knock Out?* You frowned. "You don't feel the same way?"
"N-no! I mean yes!" He panicked. "Yes I do, sweetspark. I always have. But you're exhausted, let's get you some rest and we can talk in the morning okay?"
"Okay."
The two of you lay down on his berth and you cuddled up to him, burying your face in his neck cables. You powered down before he did, finally at ease and comfortable in his arms, while he stayed awake to ponder your words.
Did you really mean it?
#transformers prime#tf prime#tfp#tfp x reader#tfp x you#knock out x reader#knock out x you#knock out#transformers prime knock out
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transcription under the readmore:
Thomas and Martha Wayne and Jason Todd are not coming back. Bruce Wayne has never accepted their death, not in all his years of specialized training, and not in all his years as Batman. What is this leading to?
Bruce Wayne, the unbending tree, is setting himself up for a huge fall, whether he's conscious of it or not. I hope that Alfred, Dick, and the Commissioner are there to catch him before he falls too far. Denny and Dan, I have faith in the creative teams you've assembled. The Batman is in capable hands, and I look forward to the tales to be told in the coming months.
Denny, congratulations to you for being named writer on LEGENDS OF THE DARK KNIGHT. I am very excited about the prospect of a Deluxe Format Batman book, and I understand Ed Hannigan's providing the art for the first five-part story. This is wonderful news. Will it be carrying a "Suggested for Mature Readers" label? Time will tell.
Sincerely, Jubal L. Myer 10139 Trevett Road Springville, NY 14141
The rumors are true! There will be a third Batman title and it begins in October! LEGENDS OF THE DARK KNIGHT will be different from the other Batman titles due to its structure--every five issues will be a complete story by a different creative team. Denny will be writing a lot of stories for this new title, but not all of them! The first story-cycle is titled "The Shaman of Gotham" and is indeed written by Denny and illustrated by Ed Hannigan and John Beatty. LEGENDS OF THE DARK KNIGHT won't carry a "Suggested for Mature Readers" advisory, but you can expect the stories to be slightly more sophisticated than the stories in the regular books.
Thanks for a very thoughtful letter, Jubal.
*****
Dear Batmen,
I'm a counselor at Sky Ranch for Boys in South Dakota, a home for troubled boys. Batman is very popular among the dormitories, even though the life and death of Jason Todd struck home hard with a lot of the kids.
Many could identify with Jason's juvenile problems. There's a popular consensus that they would like to see Dick Grayson return as Robin someday. For now the boys prefer Batman alone as they are, always haunted by memories and past mistakes, yet continually striving to find peace in their lives and someone to share their future with.
Batman is a tragic figure, as are many people, and because of this he is their cult hero.
In SUPERMAN, WONDER WOMAN and the other super-hero comics, the villains are always trying to "take over the world," where in BATMAN, the villains are very real compared to the criminals that infest our society today. Keep it that way. We need a hero that we can identify with--Batman.
Thanks for listening.
Joe Brindley Sky Ranch for Boys Sky Ranch, SD 57724
*****
My Dearest Friends at DC,
Why does the Joker get all the fame and glory? If I don't appear in one of Batman's comics soon, things may get nasty.
(signed) The Riddler
Oh, this is just great. My first Batman letter column and I'm already receiving threats from costumed villains. Well, Edward (can I call you Ed?), information about the Riddler can be found at the end of this very letter column! But don't skip ahead!
*****
Dear DC,
I do not like where the BATMAN comic is headed. Of late, Batman has become "soft" on criminals. And now, on the letters page of #436, you say Batman does not want to kill the Joker anymore. How can Batman be a "Dark Avenger of the Night" if he doesn't even want to kill his worst enemy, who has murdered countless innocents?! Batman imprisons the Joker, knowing full well the Arkham Asylum can't hold him. The Joker escapes (again), goes ona crime spree, and the cycle begins again. I know you can't kill the Joker (he is the main villain, and I like him!), but at least have Batman THINKING about killing him, like in the DARK KNIGHT novel, instead of all that wimpy "crossing the line" and "sinking to their level" crud! The Joker knows what he is doing, and insanity should not stop the Joker from getting the justice he deserves. The Joker should escape Batman's wrath through cunning, not Batman's unlogical leniency. This would make both characters more interesting. Batman should also kill the really BAD criminals (murderers, rapists, pedophiliacs, etc.). If Batman is so restrained, then he is nothing more than an aid to the police, and all the menace is taken out of him.
Please change your comic, and have the Dark Knight earn his name.
Sincerely, Chris Small Houston, TX
I have to tell you up front, Christ, that your perception of who and what the Batman represents is a little frightening to me. But it provides an interesting focal point for discussion. Is the Batman a killer? Or, more to the point, do you perceive him as being one? Letters, please!
*****
Batdudes,
I really like the way "Batman: Year Three" is going. I can't know this for sure, of course, but from where I sit, it looks like by the end of this 4-part tale we'll be seeing young Timmy in the yellow cape at the big guy's side. I hope I'm right. Batman has been through a lot and taking on a new partner might be good for him. Tim must be about 15 now, which is a good age. He'll be more mature than Jason, less reckless and easier to control. Of course, I could be completely wrong about this, which could be pretty embarrassing.
'Til Jim Gordon shaves his moustache--
Christopher Scott The Bronx, USA
This letter has been censored due to Christopher's almost spilling the beans about the conclusion of our next storyline. You know, some people are just too clever for their own good…
*****
Dear Bat-Guys,
Who cares about the great storylines? Give me Denny's column any day!
'Til next time, MAKE MINE "From The Den!"
Bat-fanningly David Child York, Yorkshire ENGLAND
*****
NEXT ISSUE: Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo return, Marv Wolfman sticks around for a few more issues and George Perez provides another nifty cover. Dick Grayson is also still here, beginning a 5-part crossover with NEW TITANS entitled "A Lonely Place of Dying." The action starts here and some of the clues planted throughout "Year Three" begin to make sense. Oh, yeah--this story leads to a MAJOR turning point in the Batman mythos (as they say down the hall). Watch for BATMAN #440 in the shops around September 1st!
In the meantime, don't forget about the conclusion of "Mudpack," the Clayface Saga currently appearing in the twice-monthly DETECTIVE COMICS, and keep your eyes peeled (ouch!) for a SECRET ORIGINS SPECIAL featuring the origins of three great Batman villains: Two-Face, the Penguin, and the Riddler. It's lurking behind a stunning Brian Bolland cover!
And be on the lookout for the DETECTIVE COMICS ANNUAL #2, on sale NOW! It's a story of the early years of our hero, as he learned the detective's art. PLUS the Rogue's Gallery Who's Who!
--KC Carlson
This letter column in the back of Batman #440 (the first part of A Lonely Place of Dying) really has it all:
Guy giving a serious reflection on how the troubled kids he works with reacted to Jason’s death
Person writing in pretending to be the riddler
Guy named Chris who thinks Batman has become “too soft on crime”
Other guy named Chris who clocked Tim as the new Robin from his introduction in Batman: Year Three
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❄️MIDNIGHT'S DCA DECEMBER❄️
Hello! I've decided to have a little bit of fun this December and will be opening up requests for the month! Please see below for more details (With subheadings!):
Requests Overall
I will have 31 slots available for requests, first come, first serve. Each piece will range from 1000-2000 words in length and may (MAY) include a little doodle made by me.
Requests can be anything! They just have to be winter/holdiay themed (do NOT have to be releated to Christmas) and DCA-related
Winter/holiday themed means movies/stories too! Ex: i am a BIG fan of The Nutcracker (went insane when I saw @/robinette-green's au for the Barbie version lmao)
As most know I am an X reader writer, but as long as my general request rules are followed, I don't mind writing for ocs, canon, etc.
For those who don't know my rules, no nsfw (suggestive is FINE), and if you want something specific, be specific. Besides that, it's fair game, request what you want
Potential Issues & Schedule
If there is overlap between request ideas, they will be combined in some manner of speaking (if possible). If needed, I will reach out to you about adjusting ideas or the likes, though I don't forsee this happening. This would occur if for example, someone wants gift shopping with Sun with their oc, and someone else wants the same thing with a reader-insert. Whoever requested second would be who I reach out to.
I will be posting these throughout December, ending on the 31st
In order to have enough time to write, I will be starting these as soon as I get the first request. To speed things up a little, requests will be open from 11/29 to 12/13 OR until I receive 31 unique requests. So that's maximum two weeks to think of an idea and share it with me.
If I don't get enough overall or get anything prior to Dec. 1 I'll probably come up with some ideas of my own, but only if that happens! Additionally, if I don't get enough, I may open it up for people to request multiple times, again only if I don't get enough or run out of ideas (genuinely don't know how many I should expect so just trying to cover my bases lol)
To keep things organized, please request in the comments of this post. This also helps to potentially keep from overlap in requests, as you'll be able to see what else has already been requested. If you request in my ask box or such it'll make things a bit more difficult, so please avoid that.
HOWEVER, there is one exception to the above, which is if you wish to request anonymously, which is completely fine to do! But please only request in my ask box if you want to be anonymous. If overlap happens in that case, then y'all may just get two responses with similar vibes on the same day (essentially a bonus lol)
Confused Spirit
For those who may be concerned (as I was before making this post lmao) Confused Spirit's schedule will not be affected by this! Now that it's back I'd like it to stay back lol. We may stick to an every two weeks schedule for a bit, or may go back to weekly, it will depend on life stuff, not on other writing things. I promise ^_^
Having little things like these also help prevent writers block, and thus stay more consistent with updates
Sharing & More
Please feel free to share this post around, and request if you want to! Once I hit 31 unique ones I'll reblog this post with the announcement that requests are closed, so make sure to double check they aren't closed already prior to requesting!
I'll also post updates every couple of days regarding the status of total requests as well ^_^
Unrelated but similar, @/quilteddreams is working on a DCA Advent Calendar for December that's also really cool! (I'm helping out with beta reading :D) Highly reccommend you check it out once it starts posting!
Everything related to this will be under the tag #MM dca December, just in case there's another similar tag out there and I'm not just taking it for myself
Alright, that's all for now, excited to see what you guys ask for!
Adding the tag list to this since y'all enjoy my writing lol:
@scarletcowboy @beemyhuneybee @fishm0ther @deviouscrackers @elsajoyagent8
@luckyyyduckyyy @zenkaiankoku @jogimote @local-shrub @amarynthian-chronicles
@robinette-green @everlightreader @sinister-sincerely @starredeclipse @dangerva
@juukai
#Surprise!#Y'all are just getting hit with everything this weekend huh#hehehehe#fnaf dca#dca fandom#fnaf daycare attendant#fnaf sun#fnaf moon#dca fic#x reader#confused spirit#MM dca December
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Hi! I just wanted to say, that, you’ve been a huge figure in my life when it comes to LGBTQIA+
Thai may seem a bit random, but I remember being back in my first year of middle school and seeing your Villain Waifu Deku AU, which is the first piece of Queer media I’ve ever come across. I didn’t even know that same-sex love was a thing back then. I also remember having a huge crush on the Inko and AFO of that AU, which led me to researching and learning about bisexuality and the community by extension. I’m queer myself (gender-fluid and Bi), and as silly as it may seem your art really helped make me who I am today. I still remember how excited I was to rediscover your Tumblr (I was more focused on other things in my life and beefed up forgetting I even had Tumblr). I had just gotten into MXTX works and was checking out the fandoms for all the works, and I’m really loving your comics! I just want to thank you for everything, I really, truly appreciate your work. I hope you’ll always remember that you made such a hug positive impact on someone’s life, no matter how insignificant it may seem to others.
sorry for the long paragraph 😅
love, anon <3
I am honored to have helped you in your journey. 🤗❤️ I am also happy for you that you’ve discovered a huge part of your life and identity and that my work was able to bring positivity in that.
It’s such a big honor for us artists and storytellers to positively influence someone with our work. Be it a quick laugh or a life changing effect. I am always honored to have helped and entertain you all!
And thankyou in return for the support you guys have shown for my work! Your encouragement and kind messages/comments really help keep me going!
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and and like. last thing. but they could've pulled off making alice and jervis siblings if they had kept it platonic and committed to exploring family obsessions & co-dependency. think supernatural. but more unrequited? it could have been GOOD. an exploration of a somewhat underused dynamic AND it could've kept him off-putting or whatever without making him straight up incestuous.
i have yet to see how they make their dynamic ever though i am Not looking forward to it lol but idk. make them orphans, make jervis the oldest (or maybe twins?) and make him feel like he needs to be responsible for her from a young age. make him grow up too quickly and have him struggle with mental illness while keeping his sister safe. make the weight of his reality too heavy and cruel, have him escape into wonderland books to cope with how unfair his situation is.
not necessarily they need to be homeless, maybe in an orphanage, or going from foster family to foster family cause they don't want to burden themselves with two kids too grown or who aren't willing to be apart or with jervis' schizophrenia (it doesn't usually manifest until mid-20's but then again it doesn't usually completely consume the person the way it consumes jervis in every version, if you couple it with maladaptive daydreaming you're set and anyways this is gotham lol).
make him rely on his sister because she's the only thing he's ever known to stay, make his efforts to keep her innocent as much as possible and allow her to be a child the way he couldn't be turn into this perpetual conception of her as, well, childish innocence and wonder; make him feel like he needs her because his whole life has been about protecting and guiding her, make him feel like reality is dull and bleak without her because he's put every ounce of fun into the time he spends with her and everything else just reminds him of how hopeless and grey reality is. start the comparison to alice from the book and make him start to see himself as the mad hatter, and think it's alright as long as they're together cause a tea party can be just them two.
make her want her own life without him, make her acknowledge that yes, he took care of her, but she's old enough now, and he's just using her to feel good about himself, because he's constructed his identity around her needing him, and she doesn't need him anymore. have her run away, eventually, because he wouldn't understand. make this her going down the rabbit hole, in a way: bored and tired of her older sibling and his book she escapes somewhere new and exciting where she can be herself (the same way it happens in the book).
from then it can be the same: he follows her because he needs her, there's a hole in his life that she left, he needs that special companionship, she refuses to return because he was smothering her, he can't accept that, he hypnotizes someone else to replace her but it isn't her, etc. it would mean none of the other alices would have that romantic implication or whatever and he wouldn't pick them because he likes her like that, rather cause they inspire more of a need to protect in him? which is what he wants from her? someone to take care of, someone who wants him to take care of them and would do it in return?
and sure it deviates from the comics but a) so does making them RELATED and b) the whole rogues gallery is here and bruce hasn't even hit puberty. he's going up against the court of owls at the ripe age of 14 no one here cares about accuracy to comics. like it could have been done :/ and if they weren't willing to do it then WHY MAKE THEM RELATED IN THE FIRST PLACE???
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