#and then Dimple came back with food and everything was going to be all right

[woso-dreamzzz]

Flag VI

Barcelona Femení x Child!Reader

Summary: You go for a visit to see the Barcelona team

Ingrid ignores the odd looks she gets as she and Mapi step into the locker room.

She walks straight up to Caro, a smug grin on her face.

"I've got The Baby!" She says gleefully, rocking her body side to side as you giggle.

"Mapi," Patri whispers," That's not a baby. Your girlfriend knows that, right?"

"That's y/n," Mapi says in answer, hanging up her bag," She's Frida and her girlfriend's daughter. Ingrid's her auntie."

"Maanum, right? That Frida? What's she doing in Barcelona?"

"They're having a little visit before they go to Tenerife. Ingrid volunteered us for a sleepover last night."

Patri winces. "Was it bad?"

"She's delightful actually," Mapi answers," Ate all her dinner without complaints and had a cup of warm milk before bed. Most well behaved kid I've ever met."

"Caro!" You say happily," Caro! Caro! Caro!"

Caro smiles a bit awkwardly at all the attention, at the way you're trying to fling yourself out of Ingrid's grip and into Caro's arms.

"Hey, squish," She says," You're looking good."

"Caro!" You continue," Caro, cuddles, please!"

Caro takes you from a slightly put-out Ingrid's arms, bouncing you stiffly for a moment as you try to attach yourself to her.

It looks like Marta is trying to force herself not to coo at the sweet scene as you babble at Caro, rushing through everything that's happened in your life since you last saw her.

"This is so unfair," Ingrid complains as she sits down in her cubby, arms crossed over her chest as she watches longingly while you show off your new Barcelona shirt to Caro and Marta," I'm the one that she had the sleepover with. I can't believe she's gone to Caro...Again!"

"Again?" Pina snickers.

"Caro's her favourite at camp too," Ingrid continues," I don't understand how! I'm the one that always buys her new toys! I spoil her!"

"You're jealous of Caro because she's getting more attention from a child?"

"You don't understand, Jana," Ingrid says dismissively," Squish...Y/n...She's...She's such a little sweetheart and she's so nice and she has so much love to give."

"Mama says Caro has a soft spot for Maanums," You're telling Marta as you happily soak up the attention," And that if I'm scared at camp and can't find her or auntie Ingrid, I have to go to Caro because she's responsible and won't let anything happen to me."

Caro's face glows red at the statement and she tries not to meet the teasing eyes of her girlfriend.

"And you really like Caro a lot, huh?"

"Uh-huh! Caro is the best at cutting up my food small!"

"Really? What else is she good at?"

"She makes sure I'm wearing my hat when it's snowing at camp! And! And last camp, she took me to the vending machine to get cookies! But you can't tell my Mama because I wasn't meant to have any."

Marta laughs. "I won't." She grins at Caro, bumping her girlfriend with her hip. "I didn't know you were so good with kids."

"I'm not," Caro says stiffly," Just The Baby. She's cool."

"I think you're cool too, Caro!" You giggle.

Ingrid doesn't end up with custody of you again until after lunch when Caro goes off on a phone call and Ingrid can snatch you up again without anyone getting in the way.

You giggle as she litters kisses on your cheeks.

"There's my squish again!" Ingrid laughs," You came back to me!"

"Ingrid," You giggle, feet kicking out instinctively," I always come back!"

"Oh! I missed you so much!" She pulls you into a hug that you reciprocate quickly.

After Frida and Emma, you think Ingrid gives the best hugs. Even better hugs than Emma's dog Jordan and he's one of your favourite huggers in the world.

"And who's this little girl?"

"Alexia, this is my niece, y/n. Squish, this is Alexia, she's the captain of Barcelona."

You frown. "Like how Kim's the Arsenal captain?"

"Exactly like that."

You grin, face splitting open as you show off your dimples. "Hi, Spanish Kim! Oh...er...Ingrid...what was her name again?"

"Alexia."

"Hi, Alexia! It's nice to meet you."

Alexia can't help but smile as you hold your little hand out for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you too, y/n. I didn't know Ingrid had a niece."

"She and my Mama are friends!" You explain," But we don't see each other a lot because I live in Sweden."

Alexia pulls up a chair, settling into it and leaning a bit closer so she can hear your properly.

"Really?"

"Yeah with Mummy and our dog Jordan. But then Mama brings me to Norway when I'm on camp so I can see Ingrid and Caro! They say I'm the team baby!"

Alexia laughs. "That sounds about right, you're still very little."

"I start school soon," You tell her, puffing out your chest," And Mapi told me last night that I'm a growing girl!"

Alexia nods along. "Of course you are! And you know what growing girls get in Barcelona?"

"No?" Your eyes go wide. "What do they get?"

"They get to choose things out of the vending machine!" Alexia tells you seriously as she offers her hand," Do you want to pick some stuff out with me?"

Ingrid sighs deeply as Mapi snickers. "Next time we get her for a sleepover, we're not coming into training the next day."

[wheneverfeasible]

Continued from this, this is for all of you who immediately latched on to Wayne being Steve’s dad’s paramour.

~

Steve reluctantly pulled back from a giggling Eddie, though not before pressing a couple more pecks to his lips, his eyes shining as he took in the way his boyfriend—boyfriend!—looked so good sprawled in his bed in the Munson trailer. He grinned down at him, Eddie’s hair a dark halo, and wondered if telling someone two hours after finally going official after months of fooling around ‘I love you’ was too soon.

But god, Steve felt it every time Eddie popped his dimple at him in a smile reserved just for him. Every time Eddie sweetly murmured some new pet name at him. Every time he’d turn his head to look at Eddie and realize Eddie was already looking right back at him.

He’d never felt this way before, not with anyone. If he had thought he’d been in love before, it was nothing compared to this now.

He hadn’t really known Eddie beyond reputation back before he and his dad had moved into Forest Hills right by the Munsons’ trailer, but he’d been prepared for some laughter and mockery and digs about his fall from grace.

(Which Steve could handle being thrown at him, but after learning about why his parents were getting divorced? He wouldn’t let anyone badmouth his dad.)

Instead of all that, however, Eddie had been cautious and careful, but understanding. They’d stumbled across one another one of those first nights, both stepping out for a cigarette, and then it just sort of became a nightly tradition. They didn’t talk much at first, but then they started talking about anything and everything.

They shared commiseration about their lives being upturned suddenly before moving to the trailer park, discussed the best places in Hawkins to get food, talked about Eddie’s band and his geek club, and even about Steve’s worries about sports and how it had been his mother that kept him on the teams even when his grades fell. Would he even have a space there anymore?

It was nice. And Eddie, dark eyes reflecting the moon and the stars, was beautiful.

A clumsy kiss turned into more, and then it became a regular occurrence for one or the other to fall into the other’s bed together when a parental figure was gone.

And Steve did more than just fall into bed, and unable to contain it anymore, he blurted finally that he liked Eddie a lot and wanted more than just sex with him. Wanted to hold his hands, wanted intimacy that wasn’t sex, wanted to be with him, fully and truly.

Eddie’s entire face had lit up and…well, a very enthusiastic celebration later, Steve regrettably had to return to his own trailer for the night.

“See you tomorrow, baby,” Steve quietly murmured, a dopey little smile on his lips as he watched Eddie squirm with giddiness against his sheets.

“Tomorrow,” Eddie breathed around a smile, and god, what Steve wouldn’t do to crawl back into bed with the man and never let go.

He felt the same giddiness warm in his chest. Maybe it was too early to say those words, but, watching the way Eddie looked back at him, maybe it was okay.

Tomorrow, maybe. If he said the words now, he didn’t think he’d be able to make it back to his own trailer after all.

Obviously this whole sneaking around thing wasn’t entirely necessary, and he was certain both his dad and Eddie’s uncle clocked how close the two of them had become, but it would probably be best not to be seen escaping from the Munson trailer in the morning by anyone else in the park.

So Steve gathered his clothes, gave Eddie one last kiss, and then he was slipping out the trailer and hurrying the short distance it took to get to his own. His dad was supposed to be gone that night, and Wayne was apparently working a night shift, so there shouldn’t be any problem sneaking between the two, which he was thankful for.

Except, as Steve entered the double wide, he came face to bare chest with his father, who was drinking a glass of water in the kitchenette in just his boxers.

“Dad!” he exclaimed, covering his eyes at the sight before remembering he should be covering the hickeys that he could feel already covering his neck from the earlier celebration.

His dad looked just as startled at seeing him, taking in the fact that he was just in his undershirt, his polo having been dropped to the ground in his shock, and the fact that his belt was undone.

“Steve? What are you doing home? I thought you were going to be out tonight with Eddie,” his dad said, and there was a brief edge of panic to his tone that had Steve dropping his hands to look at him in confusion.

Before Steve could open his mouth to say anything, however, a different but recognizable voice came from his father’s bedroom.

“Y’alright, darlin’? Thought I heard—”

Steve’s eyes bugged out of his head as he took in the man who was wearing much less than boxers as he came out of his father’s room looking rumpled with his own red marks on his neck and chest, sporting an expression of satisfied contentment that only came from one thing.

“WAYNE?!”

Later, after regaling Eddie with this horrifying moment, he would have to wait nearly twenty minutes for his boyfriend to stop cackling, and another ten for said boyfriend to barely get out with wheezing breaths, “Does this make us kissing cousins?”

Of course, Steve got Eddie to shut up with a click of his teeth when Steve pointed out he saw both Munson boys’ dicks and threatened to compare them in extensive detail.

“But you like mine the best, don’t you Stevie?” Eddie eventually asked in a small, wheedling tone, his frown deepening at Steve’s silence. “Steve? Stevie? Sweetheart? Baby? Babe? Steve, what dick did you like better?!?”

~

Did I shamelessly rip Steve’s reaction to Wayne the same way I did his reaction to Wayne’s partner in this fic? Absolutely. Little Easter egg for ya. Get it, Uncle Wayne.

Hostage Hotties (open):

@derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump @scoops-aboy86 @dotdot-weirdlife @everywherenothere @bumblebeecuttlefishes @hiei-harringtonmunson @estrellami-1 @nebulaoz @renfrisol @tinyplanet95 @hairspraywhore

Bonus tag for also mentioning Wayne: @motherofpirates

[stlrc]

𐙚˙⋆.˚ STOOD UP ── Y.JW

Summary ─ After what seems like hours of waiting at a restaurant for your date, who never showed, you prepare to give up. That is, until your night takes an unexpected turn when your waiter steps in to save the day.

Genres ─ fluff

Warnings ─ Non-Idol au.

Note: This is probably going to be boring, it's my first time doing this omg. Please don't be scared to give me feedback!

waiter!yjw x fem!reader

This was not how your night was supposed to go. You and your date were on good terms; everything was fine. He was the one who asked you out so why wasn't he here right now? You even went out your way and did a little extra shopping just for tonight.

All that for entirely nothing.

You looked around the restaurant in disappointment. It was a really beautiful place and it attracted quite the crowd. It smelled good as well; it would've been better if your date actually showed up.

"Hello, I'm Jungwon, and I'll be your waiter for this evening" you looked up, an uneasy feeling rising in the pit of your stomach. Do you order without him?

"oh, hello." Jungwon seemed pretty young─he looked about your age. He had a really bright smile on his face, showcasing his dimples on each cheek. His hair was well groomed and falling into his eyes a little. You wondered if he ever considered modeling.

"Are you ready to order?" oh! you started nervously gnawing at your lip, eyes fixed on the entrance of the restaurant. You didn't want to order without your date, but who knew if he was even coming? You were already here; might as well eat while you're at it, right?

"S-sure.." your hesitated, eyes still fixed on the entrance. Jungwon noticed, a look on his face you couldn't describe. "Were you expecting someone?" he asked shyly, clearly unsure if he was prying. This was so embarrassing, you thought to yourself, a feeling of discomfort easing its way onto you. "No", you started, "I wasn't expecting anyone, I'm ready to order"

Jungwon, obviously not believing you, nodded and begins taking your order.

"I'll be right out with your order" Jungwon gave you a large, friendly smile before he turns and walks away. You mutter a small "thank you" just as he walked off, then sigh. You just wanted the night to be over with. You couldn't even tell if you should be angry or sad, debating on wether you should give your date an earful or just forget him.

In the midst of your thoughts, you didn't expect your phone to ding.

You flipped it over to read the notification.

Speak of the devil.

Seojun

hey sorry for the short notice but I'm calling off the date

You scoffed and placed your phone back on the table. "Short notice" was an understatement─It had been almost 45 minutes since the arranged time. You couldn't believe he even decided to text you knowing you were already here.

Asshole

Jungwon came out with your plate moments later. The smell of the food did lighten your mood a bit. At least you could enjoy a meal while you're here.

What surprised you, though, was that Jungwon didn't leave. To your shock, he actually sat down and made himself comfortable across from you, a warm smile never leaving his face. "I figured you'd want some company," he said after a few seconds of awkward silence and staring.

Your mouth dropped slowly agape as you tried to find the right words to say. All you could muster was a short "oh." Did you look THAT lonely that a waiter felt bad for you? "I just... you know" Jungwon started, a short chuckle escaping him before he continued, "My shift ended, and you're really pretty, with no one here to tell you so, so I thought I'd do it."

You stared at him, shocked and ... amused? His face was so red, you swear he was going to turn into a tomato. You ended up smiling at him, a feeling of a newfound happiness growing inside you. "That's really sweet of you, Jungwon" you can see him let out a breath, as if he'd was holding it in this whole time.

"I was supposed to be on a date tonight, but he decided he didn't want to come, so... here I am" you told him, starting to eat your food little by little. His lips slouched a little, upset that someone had stood up someone as pretty as you.

"You are on a date tonight."

You looked up at Jungwon, his face no longer red, his eyes confirming that he has found a burst of confidence somewhere. You started to ask him what he meant before he continued, already understanding your confusion. "You're on a date with me."

Almost immediately, though, his confidence is gone and out the nearest window. He started playing with his fingers out of nervousness and embarrassment before adding, "If that's okay with you."

You couldn't help but let out a loud, genuine laugh.

"It's okay with me Jungwon" you smiled at him, pushing your plate to the middle so the two of you could share.

Your night, which had started lonely, ended up being very fulfilling thanks to your waiter, who, now you realized, was actually kind of cute.

You and Jungwon ended up staying at the restaurant to talk a bit more, even after finishing your plate of food. He even ended up paying, saying something among the lines of, "pretty girls shouldn't pay for anything."

Even after you left the restaurant, he ended up walking you home, and the conversation far from dying the whole way there.

In fact, the conversation was so good, you didn't even realize you were now standing in front of your apartment. Your joy died just a little when you realize this was it, and that you'd probably never see Jungwon again.

You thanked him for turning what seemed like a horrible date into a good one. "Let's do this again; I know way better restaurants across town." Jungwon ended up blabbering, just to immediately stammer over his words and go, "only if you want to, I really enjoyed talking to you."

You couldn't help the small laugh that escaped you before agreeing.

"I think that would be amazing, Jungwon" A smile tugging at your lips.

It was funny almost, how things worked out. Maybe Seojun wasn't worth the time, but Jungwon, with his warm-heartedness and company, definitely was.

You looked at him, feeling a little more hopeful than you did when you first walked into that restaurant.

[endless-ineffabilities]

chemical override (14)

Ewan Mitchell x actress!reader

a/n: this took aaaaaaages. I won't keep you. Go right ahead. Check back at the end with moi 💋

series masterlist ▪︎ main masterlist

The Mallorca holiday is not the only thing that ends in this chapter. Ewan and his Darling reckon with the truth, and they have to decide whether it's all worth it. Especially with what's coming...

The rest of the evening goes off without a hitch. It’s as if the stars have aligned and the universe has conspired to give two lovers the perfect date they so deserve after months and months of rolling in the muck.

It could be plain luck, but really, the credit goes to Ewan’s meticulous planning. Before leaving for Spain, he already knew he would have to pull out all the stops to get some proper time alone with you. Away from the rest of the group. And especially away from the guy you’re dating. 

The dedicated artiste in him can find some twisted pleasure in how this area of his life imitates his art. Wouldn’t it be easier to tap into Aemond if some part of him—of Ewan—carries some resentment for Matt?

Ewan had it in him to envision how this series of events would serve as his fuel for the Battle Above the Gods’ Eye. 

So long as he gets you back. As you sit across the candlelit table, he can’t stop staring. His dimples carve themselves deeper with every laugh or glance you throw his way. It’s the kind of brazen adoration that could make a person feel exposed, vulnerable even—but not with you. He could let you dig as deep as you’d like and he will still feel safe. Intoxicating, but in a good way. 

In turn, your eyes become drawn to those crescents on his cheeks, and you display a loving expression of your own. He blossoms under your scrutiny.

You’re in the middle of shoving a forkful of entrée into your mouth, not very demure-like, when he dreamily says, as if in a trance, “Fuck, you’re so beautiful.”

The fork freezes mid-air, and your resulting snort further proves the absurdity of his sentiment. You sure have an almost unguarded way of presenting yourself for a Hollywood actress. Not that it matters with Ewan. You could be clad in nothing but a potato sack and the lad would think the sun shines out of your arse. That being said, the potato sack would allow him easy access to the main source of his bliss—nevertheless—the look he continues to give you proves nothing short of devotion.

“So smooth, Ewan,” you respond, feeling warm all over. “Do you have any other lines, or can I eat my food in peace now?”

“Hey, I’m not stopping you,” he smirks.

“No, you’re just staring.”

“Guess I’m just… making up for lost time,” he expresses, more sincere this time, unable to mask the longing in his tone.

You hold back your snarky retort. The logical side of you wants to believe that the period you spent apart had been necessary, and that both of you grew as people in the interim. He landed the role, you were able to focus on filming, and it was well and good—until it all came crashing down when he broke first that December night. 

If you hadn’t broken things off and the production for Ewan’s film bypassed him, it would have been on your conscience. But maybe your continued romance would have provided some balm for the both of you. 

It’s no use looking back on that now. You both made your choices. And now you stand on the precipice of what could be the end, or the beginning of everything anew. 

He is indulging in his wine when you finally find your words. “I’m sorry, Ewan. For everything.”

He catches on the crack in your voice and the quiver of your lip. His hand shoots across the table to encase yours. “Hey, darling, it’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

“Are we?”

“Yeah. Look, you know how I feel about you. I love you, and that’s all that matters. Everything else is just noise.”

“But—”

“I’ll always love you,” he pauses, before dropping the words that make your heart clench uncontrollably, “even if you choose him.”

“Oh, Ewan—”

“Don’t get me wrong. It would hurt like a bitch. It would kill me… but I’ll survive, you know what I mean?”

Tears sting your eyes, but you blink them away. “You’re too good to me.”

“No,” he sighs, smiling ruefully. “Thing is, I haven’t been. Not always, and I’ll have to live with that. But whatever makes you happy now… is what I want. It’s all I want.”

“Okay,” you reply, and you mean it. You believe him. 

“So,” he says, his voice a little lighter, “darling, should I be offended that you still haven’t given me my birthday gift?”

Your brows shoot straight up. “Oh? I guess I should have… Well, what would you like?”

Ewan holds your gaze unwaveringly for a moment, waiting for you to catch on to the significance of his impish smirk. You roll your eyes fondly. “Not here, babe. There are other people in this restaurant. It wouldn’t be ideal. Besides, we really shouldn’t give Deuxmoi more fodder for their messed-up blind items.”

A beat of silence, broken by your shared laughter. And the night unfolds perfectly.

You’re halfway to the restaurant’s exit when the inevitable happens—a hesitant voice calls out behind you, stopping you both in your tracks.

“Excuse me?”

You turn to find a young woman, maybe in her early twenties, standing a few steps away. Her phone is clutched tightly in her hands, and her eyes are wide with recognition. “I’m so sorry, I don’t mean to interrupt… but are you… from the show House of the Dragon?”

Ewan freezes for half a second, his brows lifting in surprise, before his easy charm kicks in. “That would be us.”

“Busted,” you add with a grin.

“Oh my God,” the girl whispers, visibly overwhelmed. “Would it… would it be okay if I got a picture? I’m such a huge fan of both of you.”

Ewan glances at you for approval, before he smiles and nods at the girl. “Sure, let’s do it.”

The girl practically vibrates with excitement as she hands her phone to a passing waiter. She giggles nervously, moving in close for the photo, and then you notice her glancing at you in a state of awe. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispers. 

“Damn right, she is,” Ewan says sincerely.

“Thank you so much,” the girl gushes, taking her phone back from the waiter. “You’re both amazing. Really.”

As she walks away, Ewan leans in and mumbles in your ear, “I guess we’re not as inconspicuous as we thought.”

You laugh under your breath. “Let’s get out of here.”

The cool night air greets you two, sporting your superhero masks, the fabric blocking the faint metallic scent of oncoming rain. You make it halfway down the long main street before the sky opens up, the first fat raindrops splashing against the cobblestones. Within seconds, it’s pouring, the rain drenching you both as you scramble for cover.

Ewan pulls you toward a narrow alley, where an aging awning juts out above a shuttered shopfront. The shelter is flimsy at best, but it’s enough to keep the worst of the downpour at bay. You’re both breathless and laughing, your clothes sticking to your skin.

He lifts his mask just enough to show his mouth, a grin tugging at the corners. “Rain’s not so bad, is it?”

You pull your own mask off entirely, shaking out your damp hair as you glance up at him. “Speak for yourself, Spidey. I’m soaked.”

He takes a step closer, his hands sliding gently around your waist. “And yet you look incredible.”

You snort, though your cheeks flush at the usual intensity of his words. “You’re ridiculous.”

“And you’re stunning,” he murmurs, his voice dropping lower. His fingers tighten on your waist, and you can feel the warmth of him even through the cold rain. “C’mere.”

You don’t hesitate. Reaching up, you tug his mask higher, just past his nose, exposing his lips. Then you rise onto your toes, closing the space between you. The kiss is deep, unhurried, and utterly consuming. Rain slides down your face and his, cool droplets mingling with the warmth of your skin. One of his hands moves up to cradle the back of your neck, drawing you impossibly closer to deepen the kiss.

You moan against his mouth, and his heart soars. 

When you finally pull back, you’re both panting, your lips wet and foreheads pressed together.

“You’re unreal, darling,” he whispers, his voice rough with desire. “How did I get so fucking lucky?”

You don’t answer. Instead, you kiss him again, softer this time, as if sealing a promise only the two of you could ever understand.

Matt stands on the villa’s enclosed balcony, nursing a half-empty glass of Rioja and gazing out into the moonlit courtyard. The rain has softened to a mere drizzle, but everyone remains scattered inside the large holiday house. A knot of frustration is growing in his chest. He hadn’t been looking for anything serious when the two of you started seeing each other—at least that’s what he keeps telling himself. But watching you walk hand in hand with Ewan as you enter the gates feels like a punch to the gut.

You pause near the courtyard’s edge, leaning into Ewan’s shoulder as you exchange a few quiet words. Even from this distance, Matt can see the easy intimacy between you—the kind of connection he hasn’t quite managed to reach with you. He drains the rest of his wine in one gulp, the bitterness lingering on his tongue as he sets the glass down on the railing with more force than necessary.

“You know, glaring at them isn’t going to change anything,” comes a familiar, teasing voice.

He turns to find Liv leaning against the doorframe, one brow arched and a knowing smirk on her lips. Unlike him, she seems utterly at ease, as if she’s been waiting for this moment.

“Wasn’t glaring,” he mutters, though the tension in his jaw betrays him.

“Right,” she drawls, stepping onto the balcony. “Just brooding in the dark getting sloshed. Very subtle.”

Matt lets out a low chuckle despite himself, running a hand through his hair. “Subtlety’s overrated, love.”

Liv moves to stand beside him, following his gaze toward the courtyard. You and Ewan are heading inside now, your laughter grating at Matt’s ears as he watches your soaked figures, not that either of you seems to care. 

“You’re not going to make a scene, are you?” Liv asks, her tone light but edged with genuine concern.

He shakes his head. “Course not. We’re professionals.”

“But?” she prompts, tilting her head to study him.

“But it doesn’t mean I’m giving up.” His voice is steady, but there’s a vulnerability beneath it that catches her off guard. “Not yet, anyway.”

“You know I support you,” she says finally, “but there’s a fine line between persistence and masochism.”

He glances at her, his lips twitching into a wry smile. “Well, thanks for the vote of confidence.”

“I’m serious, Matt,” she insists, though her tone softens. “If you’re going to fight for her, do it because you love her, not because you’re afraid of losing.”

Matt looks at her, really looks at her, and for the first time, he notices the faint freckles dusting her nose, the flecks of gold in her deep brown eyes. There’s something unspoken in her gaze—an understanding, perhaps even admiration—and it nearly throws him off balance.

“Thanks,” he says after a moment, his voice quieter. “For the advice.”

“Don’t mention it.” She offers him a small, lopsided smile. “Just don’t make an arse of yourself, yeah? Remember, you are Daemon fucking Targaryen, after all.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “That I am.”

As she turns to leave, Matt finds himself watching her for a beat longer than necessary, a thought flickering at the edge of his mind. But he pushes it aside, refocusing on the task ahead. You’re still inside, still within reach…

But no. 

He’s not ready to let you go—not yet. But the truth is, you were never his to hold onto. Maybe you never had been.

The vacation winds down far too quickly, as such things always do. Bags are packed and lined against walls, the last remnants of a shared holiday ready to disperse back to their separate lives.

Louise moves through the villa with her phone in hand, snapping selfies with everyone in sight. Her laughter is infectious as she cajoles even the most camera-shy among the cast to join. Namely, Ewan Mitchell. She’s especially persistent with him, sneaking in shots when he isn’t looking or pulling others into the frame to get him to relax.

Freddie and Tom take one last dip in the pool, their shouts and splashes echoing through the courtyard. They’re trying to see who can hold their breath underwater the longest, both acting like overgrown kids unwilling to admit the holiday is ending. Bethany and Phia, meanwhile, are busy tidying up the kitchen. Somehow, they manage to rope in a few of the guys to help, using mock threats of withholding night-out invitations to get the job done.

You sit in the quiet of the villa’s courtyard, the sunrise emerging low on the horizon, painting the scene in hues of gold and amber. You find yourself enjoying the stillness, savouring this pocket of calm before reality rushes back in.

But the peace is short-lived. A familiar voice calls your name, and you glance up to see Matt approaching with his deliberate gait, his eyes shaded with an emotion you’re almost afraid to name. 

You know he knows. You know it’s time.

“Hey,” he says, stopping a few feet away. The air between you is charged, heavy with things unsaid, but perhaps these very same things have lingered since the beginning of your little romance.

“Hey,” you mirror softly, already knowing where this conversation is heading.

He gestures toward the empty chair beside you. “Mind if I join?”

You shake your head, and he takes the seat, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. For a moment, neither of you speaks. The sounds of the villa fill the silence—distant chatter, everyone fussing and unaware of what’s unraveling between yourself and Matt. 

Finally, he breaks the quiet. “I’ve been thinking about us. About… what comes next.”

You’re not surprised. You had seen the tension in his jaw last night, the flicker of frustration in his eyes as you returned to the villa hand in hand with Ewan. You’d known this conversation was inevitable.

“Matt…” you start, but he holds up a hand, stopping you.

“Just… let me say this first,” he says, his voice steady but tinged with vulnerability. “I know things between us weren’t supposed to get complicated. And I know I wasn’t looking for something serious when we started this. But somewhere along the way, that changed for me.”

He shifts, his fingers threading together as he searches for the right words. “I don’t regret any of it. Not a single moment. But I also know I can’t hold onto something that was never really mine to begin with.”

Your chest tightens at his words, taking in the raw honesty in his tone. You reach out, placing a hand over his. “You mean a lot to me, Matt. You really do. But…”

“But it’s him, isn’t it?” he finishes for you, his smile stiff and not reaching his eyes. “It’s always been him.”

You want to nod, but it doesn’t feel right. You worry that any sort of affirmation from you at this moment would be too cruel. Salt in his wound. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

“I know,” he says simply. He leans back, exhaling deeply as he tilts his head as he gazes at you. “While I still have you, my love… while you’re still here with me… mind if I steal one last kiss?”

His words take you by surprise, but the sincerity in his eyes makes you nod. He leans in, his hand cupping your cheek as his lips meet yours. The kiss is gentle, filled with bittersweet yearning, and when he pulls away, there’s a sense of finality in his gaze.

“I would have been the happiest man if you let me fall in love with you,” he murmurs, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek, “my Alyna.”

Then he rises, giving you one last lingering look before turning and walking away.

The memory of that night plays in your mind as you sit on the plane, your hand intertwined with Ewan’s. He’s staring out the window, his profile bathed in the soft glow of the light streaming from the window. You’re both quiet, but his thumb strokes idly against the back of your hand, a silent reassurance of his presence.

The flashback is vivid—Matt’s earnestness, the way he had let you go with grace. But even in that moment, there had been no doubt in your mind. It had always been Ewan. From the moment you met him, from the way he looks at you now as if you are the only thing in the world that matters, you knew. Every detour, every mistake, every painful scenario had only ever led you back to him.

Ewan turns to you then, his eyes soft and searching. “You okay, darling?”

You nod, squeezing his hand. “Just thinking.”

“About what?” he asks, his tone gentle.

You hesitate for a moment before answering. “About how lucky I am.”

Those damn dimples appear as he smiles. “Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”

You laugh softly, leaning your head against his shoulder. The steady rhythm of his breathing soothes you as your eyes flutter shut, and for the first time in a long while, you feel truly at peace. The past is behind you, and the future—whatever it may hold—is something you’re ready to face together.

As the plane cuts through the clouds, carrying you both to LA, you let the weight of the last few months fall away. Your boyfriend’s arm wraps around you, anchoring you with him in the present. And everything feels exactly as it should.

The elevator doors slide open with a soft chime, and the two of you barely make it into the hallway before your lips clash again. The mimosas from the bar downstairs left a faint tang in your mouth, but Ewan’s familiar taste is just as sharp as he slides his tongue past your lips. His hands grip your face with sheer desire as he kisses you, his body pressing you against the wall outside your suite.

You fumble with the room key, laughing breathlessly against his lips when the thin piece of plastic slips from your fingers. “Ewan,” you groan, “if you don’t let me get the door open, we’re going to scandalise the hotel staff.”

His teeth grazes the curve of your jaw as he growls softly, “Don’t care. Let them watch, darling.”

The lock finally clicks, and the two of you tumble inside, the door swinging shut with a muted thud behind you. He kicks off his shoes without a thought, already reaching for the zipper at the back of your dress. His fingers are skilled, traversing the familiar territory of your curves, impatiently hitching the fabric down to your hips.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, his accent curling deliciously around the words as his gaze devours every inch of you. 

Your hands aren’t idle either, tugging his shirt over his head and raking your nails lightly down his chest. He hisses at the sensation, his muscles tensing under your touch. “God, I missed this,” you purr, your lips following the path of your hands.

“Missed you,” he counters, pulling you closer until there isn’t a breath of space left between you. The queen-sized bed is only a few steps away, but neither of you seem to care, too lost in the frenzy of lips, teeth, tongue, and hands.

When he finally lifts you into his arms and carries you to the mattress, he lays you down with a gentleness that belies the hunger in his eyes and the world stands still as he hovers over you.

“I need you, my darling,” he confesses lowly.

“You have me,” you whisper back, pulling him down to meet your lips once more.

What follows is a collision of need and intimacy, a desperate reclamation of what had always been yours. 

The next morning, sunlight pours through the sheer curtain of your hotel room. The soft sounds of downtown LA waking up filter through the window. You snuggle against him, his arm lazily draped around your waist, your bare skin pressed together under the tangled sheets. It had been a long, passionate night of lovemaking. Leave it to Ewan to make up for months of lost time in a matter of hours. 

He presses a sleepy kiss to your shoulder, his voice still groggy with sleep. “Good morning, love.”

You smile, closing your eyes again as his lips brush your temple. This is peace—a fleeting, beautiful pocket of bliss. But peace isn’t destined to last, especially not for those in your profession.

Something will get brought up, unearthed, stirred. 

Meanwhile, across the internet, chaos has erupted. 

A Daily Mail article runs alongside blurry paparazzi photos of you and Matt in Spain and an older photo of you sharing a laugh on a date with Ewan in LA. The headline screams betrayal: “Caught Between Two Dragons: Actress Allegedly Juggled Co-Stars Matt Smith and Ewan Mitchell During Spain Getaway!” The story spins a salacious tale, claiming you had been seen cozying up to Matt before jetting off with Ewan.

Of course, TMZ can be relied on to publish the most unreliable piece, alleging that Ewan became involved with you while still publicly linked to Jenna. Photos of Ewan and you with fans in Spain were put side by side with those of him and Jenna smiling at each other in interviews. “Sources claim Mitchell has been sneaking around, one girlfriend from his TV show set and one from his upcoming film set…”

A Deuxmoi post soon follows, fueling the fire with even more speculation. “Spotted: rising actress allegedly two-timing her co-stars,” it reads, accompanied by grainy photos that should be anything but believable. There’s a shot of you and Ewan at the cozy, private dinner in Mallorca, looking every bit like a couple, followed by a picture—clearly taken from a distance—of you and Matt sharing that bittersweet goodbye kiss on the villa terrace. Louise’s sneaky photo has gone viral, misinterpreted and plastered across social media.

The story is twisted, of course—context lost in the frenzy of assumptions and rumours. But the truth rarely matters to the public. The narrative has already taken on a life of its own, the whispers and pointed fingers spreading,  along with the swelling tide of judgment from people who don’t know you, or the situation, at all.

The internet is divided.

Fans on Twitter rally in support.

“I don’t care what the tabloids say! She and Ewan belong together. The chemistry doesn’t lie.”

“They’re all adults!!! let them figure it out. The press needs to stop pitting people against each other.”

But the criticism was harsh, too.

“If she’s been playing both sides, that’s low. Poor Matt.”

“They're both cheaters. They deserve each other.”

“This is such a PR mess. Just admit it if you’re together!”

Back in the hotel room, the chaos of the outside world is a distant hum, until your phone buzzes incessantly on the nightstand. You groan, reaching for it, but Ewan pulls you back to his chest.

“Don’t,” he murmurs against your neck. “I don’t wanna share you with the world just yet, darling. You’re all mine.”

Everyone can speculate, criticise, gossip, and whatnot, but none of that noise matters when you’re in the arms of the one you love. 

The world can fuckin’ wait.

Taglist: @namelesslosers @skymoonandstardust @valyrianflower @luckyfirebasement @omgsuperstarg @elissanatok @callsignwidow @sinistersnakey49 @darkwriteracademia @yyrzmomo @queenofshinigamis @luvaerina @shamelessblazecrown @mirandastuckinthe80s @elleinex0x0 @pierrotlu @aegonswife @strangersunghoon @lunampacheco @writer-ann-artist @gaiaea @of-swords-and-words @ateliefloresdaprimavera @m00n5t0n3 @helaenaluvr @peachysunrize @annie-ruk @luvly-writer @ananas26t @athenafaes @lovelyteenagebeard @mamawiggers1980 @moongirl27 @katherine93 @barnes70stark @justbelljust @cloudroomblog @somestufftoday @esposadomd @girl-in-the-chairs-void @insideyourimagination @vyctorya @wildrangers @onlyrealjoy @hotdismylife @thepurplecrown @just-fics-station @clarkysblog @urmomsgirlfriend1 @misfitbimbosblog (continued...)

Some notes in the margins...

If this reads like I'm trying to rediscover my footing in this story, that's cause I am. Trust me, I am not satisfied with this chapter. But I am also my own biggest critic...

Can you guess which scene(s) I slacked on?

Plus, the way I talked big game about the supposedly legendary smut scene. I just... could not. For now. I reckon it'll be a bonus chapter soon.

More drama! More drama! At least it's just them two now 😉

[seungfl0wer]

*𝙃𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮 𝘿𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙒/ 𝙎𝙆𝙕*

Pairing: Maknae Line x Reader (GN)

Genre: Fluff

A/N: I hate these came out a lot shorter but my brain hasn’t been braining so I’m sorry :(

Hyung Line | Maknae Line

-🎄

Han:

Things had been a little stressful for your boyfriend lately. All the holiday stuff he was doing and filming just had him a bit on edge. So you decided to do something sweet. You rearranged some of the furniture moving things around before ordering his favorite food. You made a comfy little fort putting all the food under, getting everything ready for when he came home.

When he came home dropping everything by the door you heard him sigh. However when he walked into the room he couldn’t help but smile. “Welcome home love” you said smiling. “Come and relax. I got your favorite and we can watch a Christmas movie” you said.

He came to you hugging you tightly before kissing you softly. “I love you” he said with a blush. You both got under the warm blankets cuddling up to one another. He pulled you into his arms kissing the top of your head. You ran your hand through his hair making him just melt into your touch. If he was a cat he’d be purring right now.

“Thank you babe” he said with a hum.

“Of course handsome, anything for you” you said smiling back.

You stayed there under the fort all night just talking about everything and everything. Until you both fell asleep curled up into one another.

Felix:

He told you he’d pick you up after he got off. He also asked you to wear something warm because you’d be out. When he picked you up he was dressed so nicely. Weirdly enough you were matching, both red plaid shirts.

He took your hand in his as he drove you to the light place. He found a really pretty place that you could drive through look at the lights and drink some warm coco.

He turned on some holiday music as you both marveled at the pretty lights. It was crazy how many they had, how cool some of them were. You pointed giggling at one of beauty and the beast showing Felix. He smiled kissing your hand.

He stopped the car at the little coco shop getting you both some before pulling off to a little spot. He pulled you to him kissing you lovingly cupping your face. “I’m so happy I have you” he said smiling.

“And I’m happy to have you too, this was such a great idea!” You said smiling back.

Seungmin:

You headed outside to get some mail, bundling up because it was so cold out. When you got outside you were met with a snowball to the back. You looked around trying to figure out who it was or where it came from.

You looked around only to hear a cackle coming from the side of the building. You packed a snowball quickly before looking around the building. You saw seungmin standing chuckling to himself.

You drew your arm back throwing the snowball hitting him in the shoulder. He jumped before meeting your eyes. “Oh, this is war” he said with a wicked grin.

You spent bit chucking snowballs at one another. Before he came running at you playfully tackling you into the snow. You both couldn’t stop laughing before he cupped your face in his hands kissing you softly. “Let’s go inside and get a nice warm shower” he said with that same grin.

Jeongin:

He didn’t really plan this date more so seeing it on his way home. He liked to plan things however he thought this would be such a cute date.

He called you on his way home asking you to get ready in something warm. He waited for you to come out opening your door for you.

When you arrived at the spot you could tell he was super excited. Getting everything out he pulled you up the hill on the sled before jumping on the back. You slid down the side of the hill fast laughing loudly as the snow hit your faces.

He kissed your cheek before pulling back up the hill. The joy on his face was everything. Those cute dimples poking out that you loved so much. He pushed you down the hill before accidentally sliding down on his butt with you. He rolled trying to stop himself only making you laugh in the process.

“You alright?” You ask still laughing.

“I think so but I think a kiss will make me a lot better” he said with a grin.

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

💙 If you’d like to read more of my stuff you can find it Here: Master List . Thank you for reading and if requests are open or you just wanna talk feel free to send me something🩵

Taglist: @satosugu4l @do-you-remember-summer-127 @xines16 @minh0scat @troublemaker02 @tr-mha-fan @lunearta @velvetmoonlght @minghaosimp @ldysmfrst @felixleftchickennugget

[joelssimp]

STILL | CHAPTER 10

CW: Secret Relationship, Mention of a parent death, food and alchool consumption, make out session, and a cock-blocker;

3.7K words

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10 - To Fake it

The sun hit too hard, even behind the clouds.

I adjusted my lens, squinting through the viewfinder as crew scrambled to prep the next take. My hands moved out of habit—check exposure, refocus, shoot—like I could auto-pilot my way through the day. But I wasn’t really there. Not all the way.

Dad’s voice still rang behind my eyes.

He’s closer to my age than yours.You haven’t visited him once.

“Okay,” Bella muttered, stepping into my space with the exaggerated stealth of a teenager trying to be casual, “I’m just gonna say it. You’re being weird.”

I blinked, lowering the camera. “What?”

They narrowed their eyes. “Weird. Distracted. Very giggly yesterday and today? Haunted.”

I forced a small laugh as my eyebrows shoot up. “Haunted?”

“Emotionally haunted. In a fun, post-date kind of way.”

I smiled tightly. “You’re imagining things.”

“Am I?” They leaned in. “You’re seeing someone.”

My silence didn’t help my case at all.

They smirked like somehow there was a prize at the end of my lack of words. “You totally are.”

“Drop it, Bella.”

“Oh my God, I’m right.” They gasped, mock-offended. “You’re not even denying it.”

“I’m ignoring it,” I muttered, turning back toward my camera bag.

They followed. “Are they cute? Wait—how serious is this? Is it, like, fun cute or eye contact across a room cute?”

“Bella—”

“You’re blushing.”

“I’m literally not.”

“You are literally bright red.”

I laughed under my breath, cheeks warming. “I swear to God, you’re exhausting.”

And there was the grin, triumphant with a hint of something else “That’s not a no. Also? I’m going to figure it out.”

“Please don’t.”

They gave a dramatic salute. “Too late.”

Later, as we wrapped, I caught Pedro standing off to the side, watching the crew finish up. his glasses in one hand, arms crossed, face unreadable.

He looked tired… or thoughtful. Or maybe I was just reading into it because I knew he’d been quiet all day too.

He walked up to me as I was slinging my camera bag over my shoulder.

“Hey,” he said softly. “Need a ride?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

The car was quiet. Like before. He drove slower than usual, stopping fully at every stop sign, like he was waiting for me to talk first.

Finally, he glanced over. “You’ve been quiet today.”

I stared ahead. “Just tired.”

He didn’t push. Just nodded once, focused on the road.

“You told Mandy?”

I nodded.

“Is this about her—”

“No, no… She was happy, a little jealous, but happy” A heavy sigh came out, tired of how the words from earlier bruised my mind. “It’s, hm—... It's about my dad.”

He took a breath, one hand resting loosely on the wheel. “You don’t have to explain. I just... I figured, after last night—”

I swallowed. “He’s not okay with it. The age thing. He made that pretty clear.”

His jaw tightened a little. “I’m sorry.”

“He thinks I’m being irresponsible. And selfish. Because I haven’t gone to see my brother yet and now I’m apparently making reckless decisions with my life.”

There was a long pause.

Then he said, so gently it almost undid me, “You’re allowed to need something for yourself. Especially when everything else feels like it’s breaking.”

I stared at him.

He looked ahead again, then added, soft and careful, “Would you want to come over for dinner? Just something easy, at my place. Doesn’t have to be fancy, or long, we— Just... maybe, I don't know, something good?”

My heart fluttered at the offer, at the way he said it like he was asking for permission to care.

“You cook?” I asked, a small smile tugging at the corner of my mouth.

He nodded, glancing sideways. “Enough to fake it.”

“Then yeah,” I said, exhaling. “That sounds perfect.”

His smile went wide, that kind that brought the wrinkles on the corner of his eyes, and revealed one of my favorite things about his face: That damn dimple.

The building was tucked off a side street in the Beltline—close enough to everything, but quiet. It smelled faintly like old hardwood and takeout in the hallway, and the elevator creaked like it was doing you a favor.

Pedro let me in first.

Inside, the apartment was neat. Not in a fussy way—just... impersonal. Clean surfaces, beige couch, blank walls, and a too-small TV balanced on a media unit that probably came with the place. I could tell this wasn’t his. It was temporary, functional. Just a space borrowed for the sake of the job.

But, something about it felt warm. Maybe it was the soft overhead light, or the low hum of a playlist coming from a speaker in the corner. Something acoustic he left playing before he went to work this morning, forgetting about it until now.

“Sorry,” he said, locking the door behind us. “It’s not much. Just a short-term rental from production.”

I smiled, stepping out of my shoes. “It’s nice.”

He watched me for a moment, maybe to see if I meant it, then nodded toward the kitchen. “Make yourself at home. I’ll start dinner. I figured pasta?”

“Pasta’s perfect.”

He moved into the kitchen, sleeves of his old sweatshirt pushed up, opening cupboards like he didn’t quite remember where he’d left things. I wandered a little, eyes drawn to a small shelf near the window.

There were a few framed photos lined up there—maybe five or six. The only personal things in the whole place.

The first I noticed was him with Lux probably on the set of Narcos. Pedro had this brightness in his eyes, too proud to hide it. Lux hadn’t started her transition yet, but she was hugging her brother with a huge smile.

Another one, and there was Oscar and Sarah, the three of them mid-laugh, sunglasses crooked their noses, and the skyline of New York behind them.

Then Javiera with her husband and the two kids—they were younger, Pedro looked to be around 5 and Bruno was around 2 maybe? The youngest had cake frosting all over his pink cheeks.

His dad was there too. Unmistakably, because Pedro looked just like him, but in a younger version. I felt myself smile at that comparison.

And then I saw it—the photo that made my breath catch.

It was older. The edges slightly curled like it had been through a lot over the years. I could tell who was who. Nico was the youngest, smiling politely to the camera, Pedro was behind him with Javiera — who looked very different, a young-type of beautiful — by his side. José, their dad, was on the far end of the picture, looking too much like Pedro looks now, and then, in the middle, there she was.

His mom.

Verónica.

I heard him coming to check on me, but I didn’t look away. 

“She, hm— She died in 2000,” he said softly from behind me.

I turned. He was leaning against the counter, wooden spoon in hand, like the words had just left him without permission.

“She was... everything,” he added.

I nodded. “She looks like she was.”

He set the spoon down, walked over, stood beside me in front of the photo.

“I keep that one with me wherever I go,” he said. “Sometimes I take it out and just... look at it. When a place feels too far from home.”

I glanced at him, eyes searching.

“You miss her a lot.”

“Every day.”

The silence stretched. Not heavy, but in a way that felt familiar. Maybe it was the pain of not having someone who was supposed to be there for you every step of the way. I knew that pain.

I wanted to reach for his hand, but he beat me to it. Fingers brushed mine, then folded around them like it was the most natural thing in the world.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he said quietly.

And I realized something—he wasn’t just letting me into his apartment.

He was letting me in. To see who he was behind the spotlight.

I squeezed his hand. “Me too.”

He looked at me then, eyes soft but searching, like he was asking a question without saying a word. And I knew the answer. Had known it since the moment I walked through the door.

His hand was still in mine when he leaned in.

There was no rush this time. No hesitation. Just warmth and breath and the quiet kind of certainty that made everything else—the phone call, the arguments, the worry—fade away in the background.

His lips met mine gently, like a memory he didn’t want to smudge.

I kissed him back, longer this time, deeper. My hands found their way around his neck and my fingers were in between his curls. His big hands held my arms like he needed something to hold on to reality before it slipped away.

And when we pulled away, he rested his forehead against mine, eyes still closed, like the silence between us had turned sacred.

“Okay,” he whispered. “That really was the pasta timer, I swear.”

I laughed leaning into his shoulder as he turned his head away, flustered and smiling.

He headed back to the kitchen, muttering something about overcooked noodles and how this would not be the meal that ruined everything.

A few minutes later, he handed me a bowl—pasta, roasted veggies, grated parmesan that came from one of those half-used paper tubs in the fridge. It wasn’t fancy. But it held the honesty and the promise of this thing between us to be simple and easy.

We looked at the dining table for a beat—completely buried in scripts, notebooks, a stray highlighter, two empty coffee mugs, and what I think was a prop knife.

He glanced at me. “Floor?”

“Obviously.”

So we sat cross-legged in the living room, two bowls balanced between us on the coffee table, shoulders brushing, laughter still soft on our lips.

I took a bite and he watched me.

“Well?” he asked.

I smiled, chewing slowly. “You definitely know how to fake it.”

He grinned, a little crooked, a little proud. “Told you.”

And just like that, the noise in my head quieted. Not gone, but lighter and softer.

Like maybe the world didn’t need to make sense tonight—just this moment between us, just him, a bowl of pasta, easy conversations… Just here.

She looked like she belonged. Even though none of this place was mine—not the couch, not the bland walls, not the light that flickered in the kitchen when the fridge kicked in. But her sitting cross-legged on the floor right next to me, bowl in hand, laughing at something I said without trying to be charming… that felt like home.

I couldn’t stop glancing at her. Every time she smiled, it lit something in me I didn’t know I’d been missing.

After dinner, I opened a bottle of wine—something half-decent I picked up the week before because Bella and their ‘In-England-we-drink-at-15-years-old’ had told me to start drinking less garbage.

She raised an eyebrow at the label and nodded like I’d passed some test.

We sat back down, glasses in hand, still on the floor. The couch was right there, but neither of us moved.

The conversation just flowed. Not about work, not even about the argument with her dad that I could still see weighing somewhere behind her eyes. It was lighter now, just stories, little ones. Her neighbor’s weird cat, that looked like it was possessed by something. The first wedding she ever shot, scared as shit, but it turned out alright. My total inability to remember people’s names on set, so I said it was a good thing hers was this different nickname, and that’s why I remembered right away.

She laughed and leaned into me—closer with every sip, like gravity had decided we belonged shoulder to shoulder. And God, I wanted to kiss her again.

I didn’t rush it.

It was her fingers brushing mine that did it. That quiet kind of invitation. I looked at her, glass half-raised to my lips, and she looked back—drunk on something gentler than wine.

And then she was on my lap.

I don’t even remember how it happened. One second we were talking, and the next I had both arms around her waist and her lips back on mine, and this time it wasn’t soft. This time it was hunger wrapped in heat and nerves and the kind of ache you carry in your chest for weeks before you even know what it is.

She kissed like she meant it. Like she was tired of pretending she didn’t want this too.

My hand slid into her hair. Her fingers gripped the back of my neck. The wine sat forgotten beside us.

And just as quickly as it started, we paused—both breathless, foreheads touching, that stupid little grin tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“Blame the wine,” she whispered.

I smiled. “I’m blaming your smile.”

She shook her head and tucked herself closer into my chest like she was trying to disappear into the moment.

And honestly? I would’ve let her.

But then she looked up at me and kissed me again. Softer this time, it was slower. Like she was trying to memorize the shape of my mouth and every single detail about how my body reacted to her.

Her hand found my jaw, fingers tracing the edge of my stubble, thumb resting just beneath my cheekbone. I felt it all—how sure she was, how right it felt to hold her like this, to be wanted like this.

I kissed her back, deeper now. I couldn’t help it… The way she opened her mouth and her tongue slipped right inside mine, dabbing, and licking.

She tasted like wine and whatever spell she'd been weaving around me since that damn boat trip we took back when we first met. Tasted just like something I didn't want to let go of.

Her body shifted, pressing closer into mine, her hand sliding behind my neck, pulling me in again. This other kiss didn’t ask for permission—it demanded it. And I gave in, fully, until the heat between us curled at the edge of something else entirely.

There was a roll of her hips on top of mine. My breath caught and so did hers.

And when her lips brushed my jaw, moving just barely down toward my throat—something in me lit up.

I don’t know how, but I managed to stop it. Being very careful not to spook her, showing it wasn't because I didn’t want her.

God, I wanted her.

I rested my forehead against hers, our breaths tangled and shallow.

“Hey,” I whispered, my hand cupping her cheek. “If we keep going... I won’t be able to stop.”

She looked at me—half-drunk, cheeks flushed, lips puffy, totally stunning—and didn’t move away. “I don’t want our first time to be after a whole bottle of wine,” I added, softer now. “I want to remember everything, cariño. Every touch, every sound you make… Just, everything.”

She exhaled, a slow nod saying “I understand.”

“I’ve waited this long,” I said, brushing my thumb along her cheek. “I can wait a little more. For you? I’ll wait as long as it takes.”

She kisses me again—one last time.

This one was gentler. Final, for the night. It told me she really understood my point of stopping.

And when she curled up beside me on the floor, her head on my shoulder, I wrapped my arm around her and just held on.

It had been a week.

Seven days since I sat on Pedro’s floor, sipping wine, kissing him like I couldn’t get close enough. A whole week since he stopped it — gently, firmly — because he wanted to remember every second when it finally happened.

He meant it and I believed that, because he’s Pedro, and he’s the most sincere and caring person I know.

But it didn’t stop my hands from remembering his jaw. Didn’t stop my mouth from remembering his. And it sure as hell didn’t stop my stomach from doing this weightless, ridiculous thing every time I spotted him across the lot.

This morning, the sun hung low behind a thin haze, casting soft light over the production trailers. The air smelled like wet concrete and breakfast sandwiches, and the crew buzzed around the warehouse set like they could already smell the finish line for Episode 2.

I slung my camera bag over one shoulder, pulling my hoodie tighter as I crossed over cables and sandbags toward the lighting rig. My focus was off, I knew it. The exposures I double-checked twice. I hadn’t slept well — mostly from replaying every minute of that night like it was some kind of slow-burn film stuck on loop.

Kesnia caught up to me mid-stride, a coffee in one hand and her signature half-smirk in place. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah,” I lied.

She didn’t buy it. “You’ve been orbiting another planet all morning.”

I laughed at that comparison. “Just tired.”

Kesnia nodded, but gave me a side glance like she was about to psychoanalyze me through my ISO settings.

We made it through a couple setups — mostly quiet scenes, some coverage, a dolly-in for a dramatic close-up. Pedro was around, not in wardrobe yet, talking to some crew members, running lines under his breath. His sunglasses stayed on like armor, but I knew those eyes behind them now. How they softened. How they studied me when he thought I wasn’t looking.

Bella came up beside me between takes, eyes scanning the playback monitor.

“You’re weird today, again” they said, chewing on the end of a straw.

I looked over. “Am I?”

“Yeah. Like… extra distracted weird.” They nudged me. “Is it Matias from set design?”

I froze for half a second, then shook my head. “How many times do I have to tell you? Not seeing someone”

They eyed me. “But maybe sleeping over at someone’s place?”

I gave a laugh that sounded far too forced and shoved my lens cap into my pocket. “You're nosy.”

“I’m an artist, actually,” they deadpanned, before looking back at the scene being rehearsed. “If you’re happy, I’m happy. Just don’t make me a third wheel if you’re secretly in love with someone.”

I smiled and said nothing.

The rest of the day crawled and flew by at the same time. It always did when we were close to wrap, there was the final setups, something with the golden hour. All around set people looser, messier, emotionally fried from weeks on end of pretending the world ended in 2003.

As we started packing up for the day, I walked toward basecamp, feet aching, eyes dry. Pedro fell into step beside me — like he had a hundred times before. But this time, I knew that smell on his jacket. I knew how his voice dipped lower when he was talking to me.

“Dinner?” he asked, barely above the buzz of generators.

I glanced over at him, heart skipping. “Yeah?”

He nodded, looking sideways at me with a faint smile. “If you’re not sick of me.”

I shook my head. “Not even close.”

“Same place,” he said. “Though I did clear off the table this time. Sort of.”

I grinned.

It was happening again. That quiet little pull toward something I didn’t have a name for yet. And I was walking straight into it, head first, like a maniac. 

Summer was saying good-bye to us, the wind was a little rough, that usual Calgary chill biting through my hoodie as I stepped off the curb. Pedro’s car pulled up slow, the familiar hum of it sending something fluttering in my chest.

He leaned over to push the door open for me, his smile lazy and warm, one hand still on the wheel.

“Hey,” he said, soft like it was just for me.

“Hi,” I breathed, already smiling as I slid in. The heat inside wrapped around me instantly, a cozy bubble that smelled faintly like coffee and his cologne.

I buckled in and turned toward him, ready to say something — anything — but then my phone buzzed in my pocket.

When I looked at my screen, there she was, a picture of me and Kate with our cameras as her caller profile ID.

I almost let it ring, but I knew better.

I swiped to answer. “Hey, you good?”

Her voice came through faint, raspy. “Not really.”

I straightened in the seat. “What’s wrong?”

“Woke up with the flu today or food poisoning or… I don’t know. Fever. Vomiting. The works.” She sniffled. “I don’t want to be dramatic but I might actually be dying.”

“Have you test—”

“It’s not covid, I already took the test” She cut me off already knowing what I was about to ask.

I let out a breathy laugh, heart tugging already. “You need anything? Should I come home?”

There was a pause. “I don’t want to ruin your night. Are you with him?”

Pedro glanced over at me, brows raised slightly, hands relaxed on the steering wheel.

I met his eyes, then turned back to the phone. “Yeah. We were just about to head to dinner.”

Kate made a soft, whiny noise. “Ugh. Sorry. I just feel like absolute shit, and now I’m a cock-blocker”

“I’ll be right there,” I said without hesitation. “I’ll bring meds. Ginger ale. Whatever you need.”

Pedro didn’t say a word, but I felt him shift a little beside me — the quiet acceptance of someone who already knew what I was about to ask.

I hung up and turned to him. “Would you mind dropping me off at my apartment?”

He blinked, then nodded gently. “Of course.”

“Kate’s really sick. And I can’t just…” I trailed off, already feeling guilty.

But he smiled, soft and genuine. “Hey. You don’t have to explain. She’s like your person. She took care of you when you needed, just fair that you’d do the same”

I nodded, heart tugging again — for a different reason this time.

He pulled away from the curb, the city lights beginning to flicker on around us. The silence in the car wasn’t uncomfortable — just quiet, filled with something unspoken.

“I was really looking forward to tonight,” I admitted after a minute.

His fingers tapped the steering wheel lightly. “Me too. But this isn’t going anywhere.” He gave me a sideways look. “Right?”

I smiled, slow and certain. “Right.”

We didn’t need to rush this. And maybe that was what made it real.

[ticifics]

Hi, I was wondering if it would be possible to request a peter maximoff fic where the reader is a normal human who works in a nearby zoo/with animals, and peter likes visit the zoo to annoy her all the time, but one of her colleagues tells him that the reader would be better off with a human like him and peter gets all insecure and the reader had to let him know that she's not gonna be scared off by his mutation when she literally gets bitten by animals on like a daily basis

On Thursdays

Peter Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: “‘Don’t ruin everything,’” he repeated, mimicking your voice in an intentionally exaggerated way, a smug smile on his lips. “Oh, come on, sweetie, you practically handed me that confession on a silver platter. You really think I’m going to let that slide?”

Warnings: none

A/N: I'm SO SO SO sorry for the delay, I had some creative problems and only managed to finish it today - seriously, a thousand apologies. I hope the reading is at least fun

Thursday was the day of the guided tour, or in other words, the day Peter Maximoff dedicated himself wholeheartedly to his personal mission of getting on your nerves. He usually showed up without warning, a silver blur through the hallways, startling unsuspecting visitors and leaving you on the verge of yelling at him — something he absolutely loved, by the way. Who could blame him? You looked adorable, with your cheeks flushed and your eyes sparkling with frustration. He said he had a special ability to “rekindle the fire in the eyes of normal humans.”

But today, today he was different.

You noticed it the moment you stepped into the bird section, carrying a basket of food. That area used to be one of his favorite spots, after all. All you had to do was turn your back to a bag of feed and BAM, Peter would be there, imitating the parrots’ squawks or whistling at the toucans, as if he had special permission to be unbearable.

But at that moment, he was sitting on a bench, elbows resting on his knees, his gaze distant. The speed, the sparkle in his eyes, and the confident grin seemed to have been left at home.

“Hey, where’s the trouble today?” you asked, almost casually, even though you could feel the discomfort settling deep in your chest.

He turned his face toward you, offering a weak smile — weak, which was practically an insult coming from him. There was no glint of his dimples, no teasing look. Just the sound of a murmur that made you furrow your brows:

“I don’t know, I guess I got tired of bothering ‘normal humans.’”

You blinked, the bag of feed almost slipping from your fingers.

“What?”

“Forget it.” He shook his head as if regretting having said anything. “It’s just… nothing. I’m taking the day off.”

You set the basket on the ground, crossing your arms. You knew how it was with Peter: either you faced him head-on, or he’d slip away — literally and figuratively.

“Let me guess,” you started, your tone dripping with fake irritation. “You heard some nonsense and now you’re acting like the world’s right.”

He didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the ground. The wind tousled his silver hair, making it glint under the morning sun. After a while, he muttered softly:

“One of your colleagues said that…” He made a face, as if the words hurt. “That you’d be better off with ‘someone normal.’ That I should stop bothering you.”

For a moment, you just blinked. The silence that followed was broken by the annoying sound of a parrot, who whistled loudly.

“And you heard that and believed it?” Your voice came out louder than you’d intended.

“I didn’t believe it, but…” He shrugged, avoiding your gaze. “I didn’t want you to have to deal with it. With me.”

Now, the feed bag slipped from your hand, hitting the ground with a dull thud.

“Listen here, Peter Maximoff,” you moved closer, finger pointed at him. “First: you don’t bother me. Second: I actually love when you show up with that annoying habit of trying to irritate me. And third: ‘normal’? Normal?! I work with animals every day, do you realize that? I’ve been bitten, pecked, scratched, and once, even a monkey tried to steal my radio.” You paused dramatically, your face flushed with frustration. “I deal with fierce feathered and clawed killers daily, so cut the crap thinking you’re gonna scare me.”

Peter finally lifted his eyes, surprised. A soft laugh escaped his lips.

“You call little birds and squirrels ‘fierce killers’?” he teased, but there was a new sparkle in his eyes, something that felt more like… him.

“Some squirrels are pretty sinister, okay?” you shot back, chin raised. “And the issue here isn’t them. The issue is you thinking there’s no place for you here.”

He opened his mouth to respond, but you continued, more serious now:

“The truth is, I love the silver blur you leave behind wherever you go. I love watching you smile when you think you’re winning an argument. And, for your information, your visits are the best — and the most annoying — part of my week.”

There was a pause, one of those moments where the air feels lighter and the world quieter. Then, Peter smiled. For real. His dimples were back, along with the teasing gleam in his eyes.

“So, you admit you love it when I show up. I knew it.” He stood up, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “That’s basically a declaration, you know?”

“Don’t ruin everything,” you muttered, trying not to smile as well.

Peter couldn’t resist and let out a low laugh, the kind that made his chest vibrate and his smile widen, with his dimples clearly visible. He seemed much more like the Peter you knew — or at least, like the Peter who made it his mission to annoy you every week.

“‘Don’t ruin everything,’” he repeated, mimicking your voice in an intentionally exaggerated way, a smug smile on his lips. “Oh, come on, sweetie, you practically handed me that confession on a silver platter. You really think I’m going to let that slide?”

You rolled your eyes, but your face was burning. Of course, he wasn’t going to forget it. You could have stayed quiet, but no, you had to open your mouth and practically admit that you liked his presence — the silver blur he left behind, his charmingly irritating smile, and even his provocations.

“You’re the worst,” you murmured, looking around as if you were searching for an escape route. But he was right there, standing in your way, as if he was making sure to block any attempt you might have to escape the situation.

“And you like me anyway,” he retorted, leaning slightly forward, his eyes shining with mischief and a crooked smile that seemed especially sharp.

“I don’t like you,” you lied, your tone defiant, but your voice came out softer than you intended, almost a whisper. His gaze locked onto yours, full of certainty, making you blush even more.

“No?” Peter raised an eyebrow, his lips curling into a smirk. “Then why are you so red? Is it hot today?”

You huffed, looking away and crossing your arms, as if that would hide the fact that he was absolutely right. Damn it. Why did he have to be this way? So unbearable and charming at the same time?

“Stop being so full of yourself,” you grumbled, still not looking at him.

“Full of myself? Me?” He placed a hand on his chest, feigning an overly dramatic offended expression. “I’m a humble man. See how you treat me? Just because I’m too fast for you, little human.”

“Little human?” You glared at him with mock indignation.

“Yeah, well. You said you deal with animals all day, so I thought it was a term of endearment,” he said, shrugging and giving you an innocent enough look. “What’s wrong? Did you like it?”

You rolled your eyes for the thousandth time that day, but couldn’t stop a smile from escaping. It was impossible to talk to him without feeling like you were being dragged into his own game — a game you didn’t even want to win, deep down.

Peter tilted his head, watching you with a sudden intensity that made your cheeks heat up once more. He seemed at ease again, back in his element, as if all the insecurity that had made him look down had evaporated into the air.

“What is it now?” you asked, unable to endure that look for too long.

“I’m just thinking,” he started, his voice slow and teasing, “about what my next grand entrance will be next Thursday. I’m torn between showing up riding a pony or bringing a full orchestra to play while I walk towards you.”

“My God,” you whispered, covering your face with your hands. “You’re unbearable.”

“And yet,” he replied, leaning closer to you, “I’m starting to think you wouldn’t trade me for one of those sinister squirrels you mentioned.”

You lowered your hands, feeling a sudden surge of courage rise to the tip of your tongue. Maybe it was because he was so convinced. Maybe it was because you were tired of pretending you didn’t like it when he showed up, smiled, and messed up your whole day.

“Not gonna ask me out?” you blurted out without thinking.

The expression on his face froze, and it was worth all the embarrassment that came right after.

For less than a second — which, you imagined, must have felt like an eternity to him — Peter Maximoff was speechless. He blinked, eyes wide, mouth slightly open. You could almost see the racing thoughts running through his head, like a train with no brakes.

“What?” he finally managed to murmur, his voice almost hoarse.

“You heard me,” you replied, crossing your arms, trying to sound more confident than you felt. “Or are you just fast physically and slow mentally?”

The shock on his face dissolved into a wide, surprised grin, his cheeks taking on a light rosy tint that honestly made you feel a little powerful. Peter Maximoff was embarrassed. You could add that to your résumé.

“Well… I wasn’t expecting that turn,” he admitted, running a hand through his silver hair and looking away for a second. “But now that you’ve asked…”

He straightened up, returning to his Confident Peter mode, a mischievous gleam in his eyes.

“Want to go to dinner with me?” he asked, his smile softened by something sweet enough that it couldn’t just be teasing.

You smiled, pretending to think for a moment.

“Only if you promise not to beat me to the restaurant.”

“Oh, I promise nothing,” he replied, his tone mischievous. “But, little human, you just gave me the perfect day. I’ll make sure to pick you up, you’re going to love running with me.”

“Is there still time for me to change my mind?”

“Not in a million years,” he answered, and before you could think of any reply, he vanished. Only the silver blur remained behind, accompanied by a gust of wind that messed up your hair.

You stood there, alone for a second, smiling at the empty space and feeling your heart race faster than it should.

And then, almost as if he was still nearby, his voice echoed in the back of your mind:

Next Thursday is going to be the best one yet.

And you believed it.

[deliciousbasementtrash]

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

From Batman: Wayne Family Adventures #67-69 on Webtoon; Artist Inker Starbite

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are meeting the whole family for the first time. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x reader, (maybe a why choose with Dick Grayson as well?? Idk tell me what you guys want)

Warning: Adult language, knife injury

Word Count: 1.5k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it 

Part One, Part Two, Part Three

Part Four: Dinner and a Show

Anxiously, I took the napkin from the table and began twisting it vigorously. I felt Alfred leave his seat as he rose to meet his family. I swallowed hard, not wanting to look at all of the people that were entering the room. They just seemed to keep coming. How many people were in Bruce’s family? 

Before I had time to register it a hand was outstretched near me. It nearly made me jump. The stranger cleared his throat and smiled, “Hello, I am Dick Grayson. It’s a pleasure to finally meet you.”

In an ungraceful motion, I put the napkin on the table and stood up to greet him properly. I took his hand in mine and firmly shook it. His hands were large, calloused, and a little clammy. It was almost like he was a little nervous to meet me. But that couldn’t be right. 

“Nice to meet you, Dick Grayson. I am y/f/n y/l/n,” I said, trying to make eye contact with him. Dick was an extremely handsome man. He was almost achingly pretty. With his soft blue eyes, dimples, and dark curly hair, he could definitely charm the pants off anyone if he really wanted to. 

His smile grew when our hands met. He just stood there for a moment looking at me, and then he pivoted to the side. He introduced Tim Drake and Duke Thomas. Tim was cordial and did the customary new person greeting, Duke was somewhat rambling. 

“Your powers are truly something to be admired, thank you so much for everything you have done,” Duke said as he excitedly shook my hand. 

I smiled at him and rubbed the back of my neck, “It’s really not that big of a deal but thank you, Duke. You guys are the ones that make the real change.”

Duke opened his mouth as if he were going to disagree, but a red-headed woman with glasses wheeled up to us and joined the conversation. 

“You boys are hogging her. Hello, I am Barbara Gordon. This is Cass, she doesn’t say much, and this is Stephanie, she says too much.”

I greeted them both, slightly overwhelmed by the amount of new people. I was trying my best to act ‘normal’ and be as social and charming as I could be. A younger boy who strongly resembled Bruce stood far away from me. He surveyed the room, taking in the reactions. He seemed so serious for his age. I wasn’t sure if I should make the introduction or not. 

“Where is Jason?” Bruce asked the room. 

“He is running late,” Dick said, “he said he had some ‘other shit that needed to get done first.’”

Faintly, I saw Bruce tense, but just as quickly as it came, it went. “Alright, everyone leave y/n alone and go sit down.”

On my right, there was Alfred, who felt my anchor to the world. On my left, there was Dick Grayson, who felt like he was trying to get me to smile and laugh every chance he got. 

The table soon became loud with conversations that finally were not about me. However, I felt eyes on me the whole night. Damian Wayne was across from me, staring at me the whole time like I was an intruder. 

“So, you are a healer,” Damian said, skeptically. 

I swallowed a bite of food and nodded, “I am.”

“What can you heal?” Damian asked, twirling his dinner knife in the air. 

“Flesh wounds, broken bones, blood loss, head injury, organ injury,” I trailed off not knowing what else to say. 

“How does it work?” His eyes narrowed at me.

“I’m not really sure. It’s as natural for me as breathing or blinking.”

“What are your–” Damien asked but then Bruce interrupted. 

“Son, you do not need to vet our guest. Let her enjoy herself.” 

Damien was suspicious of me and curious I wanted the boy to feel comfortable, “It’s okay, Bruce. It’s natural to be curious about it. What other questions do you have for me, Damien?’

“What are your limits?” Damien asked.

I felt the table go quiet. They all were curious and wanted to know my weaknesses. I instinctually did not want to answer, but I knew that if I wanted to be accepted I would need to be vulnerable and honest. 

“I cannot heal a majority of terminal illnesses. Spinal injuries can go one way or the other it depends on the severity. I cannot heal tumors. And…. and healing is draining. If I am not smart about it, I can make myself sick.”

“Sick how?” Dick asked, leaning in. 

“Well, it’s hard to explain. When I healed Bruce, it was after my shift at the hospital, I barely ate that day or slept the night before. So, when I put all that energy into healing him, it was exhausting. I nearly passed out on the ground next to him. When I got home, I slept for 16 hours straight. That is a more mild case though, it can get more… severe.”

“I wasn’t aware of that,” Bruce mumbled. 

The boyish charm on Dick’s face vanished, “How severe can it get?”

“Oh, you know tremors, fever, bloody noses, vomiting, seizures. It can get bad. I’ve learned my limits the hard way, but I’ve learned them. Growing up my limits were more extreme. I couldn’t heal a paper cut without getting a headache. Small stuff like cuts and bruises doesn’t bother me at all now though. It barely scratches the surface of my limits.”

“Prove it,” Damien said. 

“Excuse me?” I asked, annoyance filling my tone. I can handle his constant questions, but being told to prove it vexed me. 

“You say you can heal cuts and bruises without it ‘scratching the surface.’ Prove it. Prove you’re not a charlatan witch.” It was a movement for a boy too quick for his age he took his dinner knife and sliced along his own arm.

“Damien!” Barbara yelled. Dick leaped across the table but it was too late, blood was already pooling. Bruce and Alfred cursed. 

“Why did we allow Damien to have a knife at dinner?” Tim asked over the yelling. 

“Tim, do you really think we gave him that knife?” Bruce asked, incredulously. 

Anger surged as I slowly made my way around the table full of people yelling until I was in front of Damien. I glared at him as I rested my hands just above his cut. The room became silent as I healed him. The cut closed, and I replenished the blood that he lost. 

Damien looked at me, dumbfounded. The whole room did expect for Bruce and Alfred.

“It’s one thing to hear about it, but to see it… you really are a miracle.” Duke said the words and I flinched from them. 

I looked at Damien and let my anger show through. “I will not heal you if you pull something like this again. I don’t care how much your father pays me. I am not a monkey that will dance for you on a whim. Do not harm yourself to make a point or prove something again.” Damien angrily ripped his arm away from me. I didn’t care. It was unacceptable. He should never hurt himself intentionally like that just because he knows I can heal him. I turned and faced the room, “It was lovely meeting all of you. I hope you all have a nice evening, good night.”

And with that, I turned around and left for the night. Maybe I shouldn’t be as mad as I am right now, but I know I need a moment to myself. I heard light footsteps beside me as someone lightly jogged to catch up.

“I’m sorry about Damien we are still house-training him,” Dick said, trying his best to lighten the mood. 

I didn’t crack a smile, “It’s okay, Dick, really.”

“He can be intense sometimes, well we all can,” ever so lightly he reached up and grabbed my elbow, turning me so I faced him. “We are a lot. We are loud. We are sarcastic. We all think we are right all the time. We fight. We can be obsessive, protective, and socially inept. You will constantly have to patch us up–”

I shook my head, my eyebrows pinched in confusion, “Why are you telling me all of this?”

“You need to know exactly what you are getting into. It won’t be fair to you if you don’t know,” he said, absent-mindedly his thumb stroking the inner part of my elbow. He probably didn’t even know he was doing it, but I was acutely aware of it.

I just nodded, “Thank you for telling me. I appreciate the honesty. Besides, if I can handle my family, I can handle yours. Good night, Dick.”

“Of course, good night, y/n.” It looked like he wanted to say more, but I didn’t have the energy for it. 

I walked toward my room, suddenly so exhausted. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my palms, and accidentally ran into a wall. 

“Um excuse you,” a deep voice said.

Taglist: I am just starting a taglist; if you would like to be included please comment :)

@soundsfunbutno

Also please vote below for what you would prefer

Thank you guys

[flemingsgirl]

We got this pt. 3

Masterlist

As the month flew by, Viv takes big steps in her recovery and forward her being able to play again. With you along the hard and long way, she found strength to keep going, staying positive. Always keeping her occupied, she visits your games, or you stay with her on the straps as Arsenal was playing. Marking the month after her surgery, you guys went on several dates, in restaurants, museums, or casual strolls around parks. You two decide to take the next step and decide to level your relationship to girlfriends.

"I’m heading to an appointment, but afterwards I’m all yours.”

"What kind of?"

"Nothing bad, just with the manager."

"Okay, liefje. See you soon. Any wishes for lunch?”

"Anything you make tastes delicious, surprise me.”

"All right, doing my best."

"You are the best,” you click your tongue.

"Such a charmer.”

"I’ve got so much more. Maybe I’ll show you later but now I gotta go see you. "

"I keep my eyes open.” You can hear her smile through the phone, how she squeezes her eyes shut and her lips turning up, so her dimples are visible.

Beth and Katie came over for some company they’re looking forward to see you 😊

Over the months Beth was a true friend to Vivianne as she understood her in every situation and could help with emotions different to how you could help her, saying sweet nothings and motivational, showing her the bright side, the positive, keep her going. Katie being Viv’s biggest fan and number one supporter, she was there every step as well cheering as the next milestone was reached.

You ring the bell, and second after, you were greeted by a brunette woman, “Y/N’s here!” Katie shouts back into the house.

"You expecting someone else?” You step next to Viv at the kitchen island where she sits on the bar stool and sling an arm around her back, kissing her cheek, “your other girlfriend?”

"No, no, the girl ordered us food.”

"I’m not even getting your delicious food?” You turn towards the guests. “Thank you guys.”

"Cry me a river,” Katie smirks.

"So what happened at your appointment?”

"Thank you Viv great question,” you face Beth. “Didn’t know I’d only get you in a trio.”

“They asked where you were I told them,” a laughter escape her lips and you shake your head chuckling, pecking her lips. Beth and Katie made vomiting sounds in union.

"Not a big deal, just some adjustments on my contract, my vision for the future.”

"Your big dreams,” Viv remarks, bringing her arms around your waist and pulling you closer, kissing your neck.

It was difficult to get into the building of Arsenal without any of her teammates noticing. You had everything planned. Todays the day Viv has her first training on the field, another big step in her recovery. Changing into your kit, you rub your palms on your shorts, taking a shaky breath. You step out of the room. As you arrive at the pitch, the team is standing in a big circle, chatting about their last days, laughing and enjoying. Your girlfriend soon sets her feet on the grass as well, all cheering her up as she begins to run her tracks. Taking further steps to the group, Katie is the first to catch you, and she runs off to you. “Y/N!” throwing her arms around you and jumping against you. You caught the Irish woman and your stability before falling over.

"Wouldn’t believe you’d be this excited to see me,” you laugh against her shoulder.

A hand rests on your shoulder and Katie gets down on the ground again. “What are you doing here?” she observes you from head to toe. “In Arsenal clothes that aren’t mine?”

"Surprise,” you open your arms, shaking your hands. “If you don’t wanna, I can leave.”

"No, it is indeed a surprise but wonderful,” she lays her arms around your neck and pulls you closer.

"We probably should get going.”

"I understand,” she huffs.

"We’ll cuddle after training gorgeous,” you wink at her before leaving for your first session.

It’s the 22th of October you made it in the staring line on the right wing, it was an intense game with two scored bangers from Katie McCabe. You made important sprints and crosses helped the defense and had a few chances yourself, but they were blocked in any way.

You groaned on your latest chance in the additional minute, but the resentment was out of your body as you’ve made your way back in your half and saw Viv stand at the sideline. In the short sequence, you could lay an eye on her she struggled with tears, her lips pressed together, one dimple showing. She was subbed in, and on the next attack, she was involved. Getting a cross from you, the goalkeeper stopped her shoot. You made my way over to her, and you two high fived. “Good idea, keeper sucks.”

"The cross was amazing, do another.” You hold her your thumb up and jog back into position.

The final whistle blows, and you run towards Vivianne, jumping on her back and sling your arms around her neck. Your head rests on hers. She piggybacks you around the pitch as she hugs the other plays. Then she lets you down, “now give me a proper celebration.” You take her face in your hands and pull her closer, connecting your lips. She drapes her hands on your waist, and after you pull apart, you embrace her as tight as you possible could.

“I’m so proud of you.” Your girlfriend doesn’t move an inch. Her mouth fell apart, and her eyes wide open. “You're not happy you're back?” You snip your fingers in front of her face. “Vivianne? Are you okay?” A hand on each side of her upper arms, you slightly shake her. “Youre scaring me.”

"You just kissed me.

"I mean you're my girlfriend.

"But.. but were still in the stadium,” she stutters, and your eyes widen as well.

"Shit.. shit.. I'm sorry if you didn’t .. that wasn’t what we wanted,” you clap your hands over your mouth.

"It's all right, liefje. It's fine.” She kisses you again.

[bethelighthalazia]

ATEEZ OT8 - Asking Y/N to move in

Summary:  ot 8 and how they ask you to move in with them

Genre: fluff

Pairing: OT8 x reader (separate drabbles)

Word Count:  n/a

Warnings: none

[ note: this is just a drabble that came to my mind last night, hope you like it! Please let me know what you guys think of this little headcanon :3 RE-UploaD from @/justsomedreaming ]

Seonghwa

You and him are cuddling on his bed, his fingers drawing patterns on your back while the two of you watch a movie. When he paused it all of a sudden, you frown, looking up at his face, confused.

“You should move in here, love.” He'd say, smiling down at a speechless you, your eyes sparkling. Then he'd resume the movie, thinking that you might need more time. Your whispered “yes please” causes him to pull you into his arms, happy that you agreed to moving in together.

Hongjoong

He'd send you a text saying ‘we have to talk, come to the studio tonight?’ and your nerves laid blank all day. The amount of clumsy accidents throughout the day is very high, because your mind is caught with Hongjoong's message. Will he break up? What did you do? 

When you arrive at his studio, you're a wreck, starting to cry and beg him to not break up with you the moment you step in and look at him. Joong is mortified, confused as to why you would think that. “Wha- no! I wanted to talk about you moving in with me!” He'd say, panicking and pulling you into his arms to calm you down. It takes almost an hour in which you switch between crying and scolding him for scaring you like this.

Yunho

He'd take you out on a date, completely with reservations at the fanciest restaurant, flowers and everything. At first, you'd wonder if you forgot a birthday or anniversary, but you couldn't think of anything like this.

After ordering your food, he'd take your hand across the table, smiling so completely in love, his eyes almost sparkling. “Y/n, my love…would you move in with me?” He'd ask, all flustered and shy, and getting out a little box with a key to the dorms, a pink ribbon attached to it. You'd act as if you have to think for a few moments, watching him squirm a bit, but then you nod and he looks like the happiest golden retriever ever.

Yeosang

You spent almost all day at his place, but now that it's evening, you're getting ready to head home. Before you could leave though, he takes your hand in his, looking a little pouty.

“I don't want you to go.” He'd mumble, almost a little whiney. “I gotta go home, Yeo. We'll see each other tomorrow again.” “No, stay please. Just make this here your home? I will give you the keys right away.” His words leave you speechless for a moment, but then you nod, kissing him. He's happy that you will move in with him.

San

Like every afternoon, you're on your way to your boyfriend San, but you stop in the doorway to his room at the sight in front of you. He's sitting on the ground, assembling a second closet and his bed is bigger.

“Sannie, what's-” “You'll need a closet and we have more space on the bed. For when you move in with me!” He'd announce happily, your hesitation making him deflate though. “You- will you move in with me?” He'd ask quietly and when you nod, he'd jump up and hug and kiss you, smiling with his stupid adorable dimples again.

Mingi

He'd be fidgety all day, nervous even, but you couldn't tell why. Mingi had thought about this for weeks now, he's happy with you, he loves you, so why would this be so hard?

In the end, he'd forget about all the things he wanted to say and just holds out a key to his place to you, looking at you with those beautifully innocent puppy eyes of his, no need for words at this moment. When you nod and kiss him gently after taking the key, he'd let out the breath he was holding in, happy and excited for you to move in with him.

Wooyoung

When you arrive at his place, you stop because you see a moving truck in front of his place. And you see him and the guys carrying stuff inside, stuff that looks like yours. 

“Jung Wooyoung, care to explain why my stuff is here?” You'd ask, causing him to freeze in place, the others looking at him surprised. They thought you knew. “Yah! You're moving in with me, jagi! I hate when you leave in the evening, so you live here now.” This man! You can't even be mad at him though, especially when he looks at you with those puppy eyes and the tiny pout. “Fine…” “yay, I love you so much, jagi!”

Jongho 

Jongho would ask you right away one day after you watched their dance practice. He'd sit down with you, smiling and taking a sip of his water before looking at you with a serious face.

“Y/n, what do you think about moving in with me?” He'd ask, calm and almost as if you're talking about the dance practice. It takes you by surprise, but the butterflies on your stomach and the blush on your face are enough to make him smile. “I- I would love that actually, Jongho.” You'd say which, to everyone's surprise, earns a happy squeak from the man. It seems like he's very happy about your answer.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[maliciousblog]

Coffee (Jaehyun)

It was another day the same routine. You would clock off work and head to your local cafe that you frequented.

Generally you would order a drink and something to go along with it while you read or caught up on your work until you could take the subway back home.

You entered as the bell chimed alerting the barista of your presence.

He bobbed his head above the counter hoping to catch your eye.

He was the only staff there during the night shift because the cafe was generally quiet empty apart from a few students or office workers waiting for the next train.

He preferred it that was because then he could spend time with you, ask you about your day, tell you about his.

He absolutely adored you.

You made his shift seem a little more enjoyable.

Since you were a regular he had your order memorized and bought it to your table without you even having to go up to the counter to order.

As you rummaged your bag to pull out the book you were reading you heard him place the tray that had your drink and a little sweet treat he always added along with it.

Each day it was something different.

You had to hand it to him he was an exemplary pastry chief and everything you had until now surely didn't disappoint.

You face lit up as you asked him what was the special today.

"Peach pie with a side of vanilla ice cream".

He nudged the plate towards you urging you to have a taste and tell him what you thought of it.

You picked up a fork and cut into the pie the buttery crust gently snapping under the fork, adding a smol dollop of ice cream on top you placed the bite in you mouth.

It practically melted as soon as the pie touched you tounge it was sweet and creamy. But the sweetness didn't overwhelm your tastebuds.

It was just the right amount all the flavors complimented each each other it was absolutely delectable.

He smiled showing his deep dimples and couldn't help but blush a little as you complemented his cooking.

Come to think of it he himself looked like a happy peach at the moment.

You talked for a while until another customer came in and he left frowning as he made him a cup of coffee.

You enjoy your food as you read while the time slowly began to tick away.

Until it was time for you to leave.

Jaehyun was busy serving customers so you didn't want to bother him and placed a couple of bill on the table as you walked out.

His shift was ending and he began cleaning the tables waiting still thinking about you.

You brought him so much happiness.

He stood there smiling like a fool thinking about you. Thinking about how cute you looked while you concentrated reading your book or how you smiled when he placed your food on the table.

Every night he would wait for you. Everyday he would think that it would be the day he would confess to you. But when the moment came his nerves got the best of him and he would hold himself back.

But today was the day he brought a bouquet of your favorite flowers and baked your favorite cake. He was so excited today was the day he would finally confess.

Each time the bell rang he felt his heart skip a beat.

He watched you enter he could feel his heart beating it felt like it would leap out of his chest at any moment.

He watched you enter followed by a man.

He watched as you and the man approached the counter.

He greeted you like he usually does.

And took your order he asked you who the man along side you was and before you could answer.

He stepped in and told him that he was your boyfriend.

Jaehyun felt his heart drop.

As he clutched onto the counter faking a smile and taking his order.

You noticed the flowers on the counter and asked him who the lucky girl was. To which he replied that someone had just left it behind as he went up to the bouquet and threw it in the trash.

You were a little taken aback by his sudden hostility but you thought maybe he was just tired given that it was pretty late.

So you just nodded and went to take a seat along with your boyfriend.

Jaehyun watched as you were giggling at some stupid joke your boyfriend said.

He felt like straggling the man right in the middle of the cafe.

While making his coffee he contemplated adding rat poison to it but he figured there were better ways to accomplish what he wanted to do.

So he placed your drinks on your table and left swiftly.

But you couldn't quiet shake of the feeling of being watched as you say there. Oblivious of what was to come.

[zwelcii]

fight the world | chuck

"i don't deserve thissss," the little boy whispered, wrinkling his nose as he poked at the broccoli on his plate.

“eric, honey, don’t play with your food,” his mother chided softly, her warm smile dimpling her cheeks as she leaned over him, brushing his unruly curls out of his eyes.

eric huffed, pushing his fork against the vegetable once more as if he could make it disappear with sheer willpower. “but why does it have to be broccoliiiii?”

his mom chuckled, her laughter like a soft melody. “because broccoli helps you grow big and strong. and you’ll need it—someday, you’ll be off changing the world.”

she always told him things like that, speaking with a certainty he didn’t fully understand. but her voice made him feel safe, like he’d be okay no matter where he went or what happened. she ruffled his hair and placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “just trust me, alright? one day, the world'll try to change you, and we need you big and stong so you can fight it.”

“fight the world?” he mumbled sarcastically, still squirming in his chair. but he grinned back at her, his little world as secure as it had ever been.

"fight the world," his mother said with an unmatched certainty.

but as the days passed, the boy began to notice small changes—mom’s worried glances, the long, quiet conversations she'd have with people he’d never seen before. one day, they told him it was time to go, that he had a special purpose, a place he belonged. confused, but filled with a strange excitement, he went along with them, holding onto his mother’s words, hoping she was right.

the fluorescent lights of the wicked centre cast a harsh glow over everything, leaving no corner untouched by the sterile, cold light. thomas sat against the wall of the beetle bug room, having just come out of it. his hands were trembling, gaze vacant, fixed on something only he could see. his face was drawn, shadows under his eyes so deep it looked like he hadn’t slept in days.

“tommy?”

thomas glanced at him, just briefly, his face a mask of something chuck couldn’t decipher. it was the kind of look that only came from seeing things no one should have to see, especially alone. thomas’s face was pale, his jaw clenched tight, and he looked a little bit like he was holding himself together with sheer force of will.

chuck hesitated, nervous but feeling a stubborn urge to be there for him, even if he didn’t understand why. “did… did something happen?” he asked, his voice small. he tried to keep it light, to keep his tone from betraying the growing fear inside him. nothing good ever comes from that room.

thomas’s gaze softened a little as he looked at chuck, his expression flickering, almost like he was seeing chuck from far away. he didn’t respond at first, his eyes dropping to the floor, his fists clenching and unclenching. “chuck, it’s… it’s nothing,” he mumbled finally, his voice heavy with a weight chuck couldn’t quite understand. “you don’t need to worry about it.”

but chuck’s frown deepened. he shuffled closer, glancing up at him with a determination beyond his years. “i can tell it’s not nothing, thomas,” he insisted, a shaky confidence in his voice. “whatever it is, you don’t gotta carry it by yourself. you know that, right?”

for a moment, thomas almost laughed—a quiet, humourless sound. chuck’s simple words, the raw sincerity in his voice, cut through his resolve in a way that was almost painful. it was like looking at something pure, something untainted by all the horrors he’d seen. and part of him wanted to keep it that way, to shield chuck from the ugliness of the world.

he took a shaky breath, finally meeting chuck’s eyes, forcing a small, strained smile. “thanks, chuck. really,” he said softly. “i mean it.”

chuck nodded, his face full of that relentless trust, and he gave thomas a tentative, lopsided grin. “hey… you’ll be okay, dude.”

thomas managed a nod, the words bringing him a measure of comfort, if only for chuck’s sake. and as they sat together, he felt some of the weight lift—not entirely, but enough to let him breathe again, just a little.

chuck’s mind was a blur, half-processing the chaos around him. the wicked center felt too bright, too sharp, like everything was more real than it had any right to be. he couldn’t stop staring at gally. he looked different somehow, like he was… trapped. his hands shook, his face pale, and his eyes—they were red-rimmed, hollow, like he was fighting some unseen force. chuck felt his heart twist in confusion and dread.

gally’s hand reached behind him, drawing something from his pocket. a glint caught chuck’s eye—the flash of a silver blade, deadly and sharp, gleaming in the harsh light. before chuck could make sense of what was happening, gally’s arm moved back, then shot forward in one swift, fluid motion, hurling the knife across the room. it happened so fast, but somehow, in that frozen second, chuck saw everything.

he saw the knife spinning toward thomas, and without a second thought, he threw himself in front of his friend. time slowed, but his fear didn’t; it pounded through him, raw and fierce, and then, with a sickening thud, the blade found its target.

pain blossomed through his chest, ripping the breath from him. his body dropped to the ground, a strange numbness creeping over him, even as warmth began to pool beneath him. he tried to breathe, but each gasp was wet, choked, and he tasted something metallic and sharp. blood.

thomas was there, pulling him close, his face twisted in horror, and chuck could feel his friend’s hands shaking as they tried to stop the bleeding. thomas’s voice was muffled, as though it was coming from far away, and chuck struggled to focus, to hold onto something. but the pain was getting stronger, pulling him under.

“thom... mas,” he managed to whisper, each word a struggle, as darkness began to seep into the edges of his vision.

he felt a familiar ache that had nothing to do with the knife, a yearning for something he’d never had. “find… my mom,” he choked out, barely able to form the words. he wanted her to know he’d done something good, that he’d protected someone, even if it meant he didn’t make it. “tell her…” maybe, maybe if she knew—that he fought.

and then, with a deep, aching certainty, the thought came to him.

i don’t deserve this…

@ssseashell

tags: @just-a-girl-who-loves-tmr

[writin-with-the-blues]

I’ve had this idea for awhile but- Don’t Starve Wes x reader where the reader got trapped in the constant looking for Wes, established relationship type stuf!

A/N: Anon dropping an amazing request and acting like they didn’t say anything important. Here you go Anon!

A Popped Balloon

Content: Wes x Fiancé!S/O (Romantic), 2K words, Wes is disabled, reader understands French and French Sign Language (LSF)

Were you crazy? Sure.

Were you insane? Maybe.

Hallucinating? Not something that happens.

Well regardless of what happened, here you are waking up to a field with no civilization. At first you were in full blown denial, just lying right there and looking to the sky. However, it was just how real everything felt that got you up and moving. The smell of the flowers, the sound of wind hitting your hair, and the way the berries, plucks of grass, sticks, and rocks felt in your hands. There was no denying the fact that this was happening and being the determined person you were, you to continue your investigation of your dear fiancé, Wes.

You met Wes in France seven years ago after moving there from America. You wanted to work as a performer however you didn’t find that much success in America so you moved to France. You tried to learn all the languages you’ll need before moving, one of them being LSF. You didn’t know ASL or completely knew French so learning LSF was difficult to say the least, but in hindsight it was probably one of your best decisions. You learned all of this mainly because you didn’t want to stand out all too much, well as much as you already did as a performer.

You bumped into Wes after a somewhat successful performance, enough to keep yourself housed and fed for a good while. You tried to talk to him in French, though he signed to you, “I doubt you understand LSF since you have an American accent but do you?”

Your immediate response, not even responding to the question he asked, “I have an American accent?”

Oh god the way his eyes shimmered like a kid on Christmas when you responded. He smiled so much his dimples showed as he responded, “Yeah, you sound breathy. It’s a bit hard to understand.”

“Breathy? What do you mean breathy?”

“Sounds like you’re.” He pauses his hand movements trying to find his words, “Breathing in between your sentences.”

You smiled at him as he smiled at you.

As you got to know him, the more you could say you fell for him. According to him, he has been mute since his birth so he decided to become a mime, he had gotten so good at being a mime it might as well be magic. The reason why is according to him, ‘C’est la vie’ or roughly meaning, ‘That’s just life; you got to work with it.’ The thing you always wondered is how he got his balloons to float without helium. However, every time you asked him how he did it, he’d sign to you, “A good performer never tells their secrets,” with a shit eating grin.

Even today, as you are collecting materials and finding ways to keep them on you, you still wonder about the logistics of that. Why you were thinking of that of all things instead of looking for shelter or food was probably a way to cope with the situation you are in. The sun went down as you picked the rock down little by little, you could hear the sound of bat screeches but you ignored it. Your hands hurt from the work on not only chopping down the trees but picking rocks. Your sticks were held together by you wrapping them with the grass which was surprisingly sturdy for grass. You went back to reminiscing about the past as you continued working.

You remembered the day you two became a couple like it was yesterday, it wasn’t particularly a beautiful day with storm clouds slowly rolling in. You both had a failed performance, what made it worse was the rain that came through which just completely ruined any chances of continuing, so you both sat on a bench under Wes’ umbrella. Wes’ makeup was ruined, his mascara and face paint washing away from the rain, it slowly dropped down in streaks to the bottom of his chin. It was attractive to you, however you knew that Wes didn’t agree with that sentiment based on the way he acted so you decided not to bring it up. He tried to communicate one letter at a time because his other hand had his umbrella, but you gently took the umbrella to allow him to fully converse with you. He signed, “Thank you.”

He started the conversation by signing, “Hopefully your performance was at least a bit better than what happened to me.”

“Well…” You looked to the sky, “the rain ruined it.”

“Yeah, me too. Well as you can obviously see.” He gestured to his face as he continued to sign, “My whole act was ruined, considering my makeup is melting off.”

He sighed, as the two of you remained in relative silence. You could see his cheeks blush a bit thanks to the rain wiping away the white face paint. It was a light dusting sure, but you can totally see it, so against better judgment you asked him, “Are you embarrassed?”

“What? No. No, absolutely not.” He signed quickly, so fast it was hard to pick up what he was saying, “What made you say that?”

“Well, I-“ you cleared your throat, “saw you were red in the face and just wanted to check in.”

It took a bit for him to respond, taking a deep breath he signed, “I love you.”

Your heart was going miles an hour as he continued, “For a while actually and,” He pauses his movements, “it’s just so amazing to be around you. I don’t really know if I am saying I love you too early but I don’t have the heart to care. So, do you love me like I love you?”

He was looking away from you before you gently moved his chin to look at you. A smile spread across his face as he kissed you on the lips and you reciprocated it. You were there for a while locked into each other’s lips as the sound of water tapping on Wes’ umbrella continued. Once you pulled away, you answered, “Of course. Of course I love you like you imagine Wes”

Another one of his shit eating grins spread across his face as he signed, “Good luck trying to clean off your face.”

You slowly wiped your lips only to find his stained lipstick on there, and all you could do was smile and teased, “You’re a piece of shit and I love you.”

As the relationship grew and grew, you always noticed how physically affectionate he was. Walking down the streets of France while holding his gloved hand, often hugging you tightly, and kisses dear god. You love the man so much and he loved you too, but the way his makeup stains your face was obvious and clear. Obviously he was super apologetic about it after you told him about the dilemma, trying to only kiss you when he had his makeup off.

Speaking of his makeup off, you got to see a lot more of that when he wasn’t on the street. Especially just lying next to you in your humble abode, cuddling with you over the soft sounds of the radio. Kissing along the back of your neck keeping you tightly in his arms. He always somehow lazily signed to you, “I love you.”

Your home essentially became his as he brought gifts to you after performing. Sometimes it was some pastries to share, sometimes it was nice daisies, sometimes he did a balloon trick. Essentially, a roll of the dice of what he’ll do when he gets home between sharing and enjoying something with you or just cuddling until he falls asleep. Though after a complete flop of a performance, being a shoulder to cry on was nice but you also cried on his shoulders when you needed to.

So of course, it was only a matter of time before he proposed. After almost four years of being with you, he cleaned his late mother’s ring, and came looking for you. You were performing on stage, as you were finishing up you heard footsteps from behind your makeshift stage. Seeing Wes was a comfort to you and then seeing him pull out a ring made you instantly hug him. Although that stunt caused you both to be injured in some way because you basically jumped on him, you accepted it with a giggle over the situation. You both knew that marrying each other now would cause major debt, so you decided to keep each other as just fiancés.

But then. It all was taken away from you.

Gone.

His life was taken away from you like a popped balloon.

The police showed up to your home and asked for your account for the disappearance of Wes. Your Fiancé. Obviously you were worried, desperate to find out what happened, but the verdict they settled on was infuriating. After he traveled into the alleyway, he was stabbed to death and brought someplace else, well at least that was the verdict the police settled on. Having his funeral only a week after the verdict to just move along. You obviously tried to argue with police after they had the verdict chosen.

“C’est la vie. You’ll find another love someday.”

You went to the county jail for violence against a police officer, specifically punching them directly in the jaw. It was worth every minute of community service you had to do. Why would anyone say that? Especially to someone who is grieving? It just solidifies the fact that something is wrong with what they described his supposed death. So after dealing with a lot of legal jargon, your next priority was figuring out what actually happened.

You went to talk to George T. Witherstone, a man that was also interviewed by police in the disappearance of your fiancé. However, George was a sleeze, who was connected to a much more famous performer who had disappeared named Maxwell. Maxwell and his assistant Charlie were both famous magicians that had kick started the careers of many famous performers such as yourself, but what George said clicked for you, “Well William Carter couldn’t pay his debts to me, frustrating I know.”

William Carter? That was his full name? The rest of what he was talking about was nothing but a blur as you fixated on that specifically.

Well there was no use in interrogating George when you began to run out of money to live in France. So, with all of the money you had left to your name, you went back to the United States to live with your family. You wanted to stay in France, but you had to go back, much to the disappointment of your family. However, hindsight is 20/20, so what was really a horrible thing turned out to be the very thing that brought you to where you were now.

You began searching through past magazines in your library about William Carter, continuing to connect the pieces together. Finding article upon article about Maxwell and Charlie’s disappearance, though you also found out about a strong man named Wolfgang saving William Carter’s life. You search through articles about him, he disappeared. In fact, the weirdest part about the whole thing is that the people with the weirdest disappearances always had a W at the beginning of their name.

Like Wes.

You snapped out of your own memories as you began to tinder a fire, being slow and calculating as you made sure that your makeshift torch would set aflame. You see the sun slowly setting until it turned night, the moon a crescent in the sky. You had to keep moving, you had to.

When you were searching through possible leads, the only one you could settle on was Wilson. Most of the rest didn’t have as much of their location or history out to the world. Especially Maxwell, whose house had been turned into a museum for himself. So, taking up a backpack, and using the knowledge you had, you went towards the shack that sat upon a hill which took you three hours to get there by car. You opened the door to find papers scattered across the floor, the sound of radio static, and a machine, massive in scale with a leaver. Against everything in your gut telling you otherwise, you flicked it.

Everything went to nothing, not black, just nothing. As if you were to close one eye, but for both eyes. Just nothing. Until there was something.

Which leads to now, where you continued to move forward until you saw dawn. As the morning began, you heard idle chatter through one person. Probably in his mid-thirties, most definitely tired and exhausted, just average overall. You decided to eavesdrop on the conversation, just letting the words come through.

“So Wes any objections to that plan of action?”

Silence.

“I am taking your silence as yes.”

Then the shuffling of two people’s feet. Almost as desperate as you were beginning your adventure you almost screamed out, “Wes?!”

You heard the sound of running as you got hugged by Wes. His arms felt just as great as you remembered them. You were surprised though, causing you to fall on your ass, but there was laughter involved in it all. Just like the day he proposed.

If you were asked to do it again to see those glittering eyes again, you’d take it in a heartbeat.

Cross-posted to AO3

Masterlist

[elisysd]

First times

Cruel Summer Masterlist

Julia first appearance at a race

Ain't it funny how the simplest things in life can make a man? Little moments that pass us by

Monaco is and always will be holding a special place in Charles’ heart. Even more so now that he was a dad and wanted to make his little girl proud. Julia was not even one yet, but he was determined to make her proud. So having his wife and his baby in the paddock for the weekend with him, put a lot of pressure on him. He wanted to be perfect. The morning of the first session of free practice, he woke up at dawn and walked out of Lyanna and him shared bedroom in their recently bought house. As much as he loved his flat and no matter how many memories it was holding, it had been time for them to create new ones as a family. Also, Charles wanted to offer Julia and Lyanna a peaceful life, away from the hustle bustle of the city. Slowly, taking care of not making too much noise as it was still early, he walked in the nursery where Julia was sound asleep. Her room was in beige and neutral tones with some touches of yellow and green here and there.

Despite Lyanna’s wants to keep her room tidy; Charles couldn’t stop himself to buy anything to his daughter that he found cute, funny, or thought it would come handy later. Plushies that he found all around the world when he was travelling were laying on the floor, for lack of space to put them on the shelves where books were pilling up. Toys that Julia was too young to use were stored in big boxes and on the wall, next to cute animals’ stickers that Lyanna had glued to the wall where Julia’s crib was, there were tons of pictures Charles had taken from the tracks and of him. One if his biggest fears was that his daughter would forget about him when he was away. Something Lyanna tried to reassure would never happen. Finally, near the big window that offered a beautiful and open view on the garden, was a rocking-chair where Charles loved to sit in with Julia as he was telling her all about his race weekends when he came back home, or where he loved watching Lyanna taking care of their daughter.

As he was approaching the crib to watch his daughter, he could hear her babbling. He leaned over the baby's crib and two green eyes met his own. He knew that people were often saying that Julia was the spitting image of him. The same brown hair, the same blue-greened eyes and he could swear that she had also inherited of his dimples. His mother liked to joke around saying that Julia would make heads turn when she would get older just to spite him. And he was ashamed to admit it but it worked.

“Already up, sweetheart?”

Seeing her father, the baby smiled at him as she held out her arms, silently asking Charles to take her out of the crib.

“You and I are not going to make any noise, okay? Mummy is still sleeping and we don’t want to wake her. You know how grumpy she gets when she doesn’t have her full sleep. And an angry mummy it’s not something we want to experience.

Julia carefully secured on his hip, he walked down the stairs to prepare the breakfast. He settled his daughter in her highchair and set about getting out everything he needed for himself and Julia. As he was cutting a banana, his gaze was drawn to his daughter, who was staring intently out of the window at something. Curious, he went over to the bay window and opened it to let some fresh air into the house, where he saw the focus of his daughter's attention.  

“Did you see the squirrel, angel? Did you see how fast he ran in the trees? Well that’s how fast daddy is hoping to be this weekend.”

As he was finishing to prepare the food, leaving some for Lyanna, the father and his daughter heard some noises coming from upstairs, a sign his wife was up. And right on time as he was supposed to leave for the track in a few minutes. Lyanna and Julia were coming to see him around lunch time and would spend the afternoon in the hospitality where everything had been made to accommodate Julia.

“Well, good morning my loves!”

Lyanna was already dressed in a red shirt with the number 16 on the back. Her hair were tied in a ponytail that were escaping from a Ferrari cap. She went to her daughter kissing her forehead as she was wiping away with a napkin traces of apple purée from her chin. She then went to Charles that was putting away dishes in the sink and curled up to his side.

“Good morning beautiful. I see you are all ready.”

“I have to show off who I’m there to support!”

Charles chuckled. Soon he excused himself and left for the track. Lyanna spent the morning doing a bit of house chores, keeping an eye on the little girl and then it was time for them to leave to join Charles in the paddock.

Everyone knew about Julia. It was hard to not to as Charles kept on showing pictures of his daughter to anyone wo was crossing his path. So as soon as Lyanna arrived, everybody was quick to make way for her and to give her space. Of course, there were some journalists and photographers that stopped her to ask her if they could take a picture of them but didn’t insist when Lyanna told them no. She wanted to keep the small amount of privacy her family had managed to keep.

In the Ferrari hospitality, Julia was everyone favorite. And it was not long before Lyanna found herself surrounded by gifts from plushies with Ferrari logo on them to baby and kids merchandising. As if she didn’t have already enough of those at home. Lyanna didn’t count anymore how many red clothes Julia had, thanks to Charles.

The Friday was calm but the Saturday a lot less since Charles had managed to snatch the pole position. It was an exhilarating husband that came out of his car and rushed to his family as soon as he could after the qualifying session. Julia couldn’t understand yet what her dad was doing on his weekends but Lyanna soon noticed how captivated the baby seemed to be by the red suit. She jiggled in Lyanna's arms, seeing her father from a distance and realising that Lyanna was not going to let her go, she began to cry, alerting her father a few metres away who hurried over to her.

“Julia, baby what’s wrong?” asked Charles as he held out his arms to take Julia from Lyanna. As soon as se was with her dad, her cries stop making Lyanna rolled her eyes.

“Well, this little drama queen just wanted her daddy’s full and undivided attention, apparently.”

Julia was playing with the Velcro on Charles’ racing suit completely oblivious to what’s happening around her. Her little fingers found the Ferrari emblem and tried, unsuccessfully, to get a hold of it.

“Well, our Julia is a Ferrari girl.” Said proudly Charles.

“As if she could be anything else with you as her dad.”

On their way back, they crossed path with Kat, Max and their baby boy, Ethan who had just turned one a few months ago. As Charles and Max were exchanging a bit about the qualifying and how the race was going to be like tomorrow, Lyanna and Kat started to talk about their kids.

“Is it Julia’s first time here?”

“Yes! Charles was a bit stressed out about it; we didn’t really know how she would behave but she has been an angel all day long. I’m hoping it will be the same tomorrow. And how is Ethan?”

The little boy refused to make eye contact with Lyanna, preferring hiding his face in her mom’s neck.

“You know what would be nice? To organize a play date! Julia and Ethan are not very far in terms of age, how nice would it be of them to grow up together and have a friend.”

“That’s an amazing idea! I will definitely take you up on that offer.”

“What do you think, Ethan? Say hi to Julia, sweetheart.”

The little boy glanced at the girl and made a weird face, halfway through the smile and the wince. Julia caught it and started to cry, refusing to look at the boy.

“Ethan! Be nice!”

“Oh Julia no, it’s okay sweetie he didn’t want to scare you.”

“What’s happening?” asked Charles hearing Julia’s cries for the second time that day.

“We were trying to make our kids get to know each other but it didn’t go as we expected.” Explained Lyanna.

“I think they are both tired, maybe it was just not the right time.” Said Max.

They all agreed that it was better for them to go home and rest. The next day, the paddock was buzzing with activities. Charles was attracting a huge crowd and was at the same time trying to shield Julia and Lyanna from fans that were screaming their names. Finally, they all breathed a bit better as they entered the garage where Charles greeted the mechanics before leading his wife and daughter to his driver’s room so he could change. When he finally was ready he took Julia out Lyanna’s arms and went back to the garage. As he was talking with Fred who couldn’t help to scrunch his face in order to make Julia laugh, the little girl was deeply invested in the headset around the neck of team principal. As she was trying to reach for it, Fred took it our and put it on her little head. It was way too big for her but she didn’t seem to care.

“Well, it looks like we are going to have a new strategist on the team. What do you think Julia?” asked Fred, tickling the little girl.

Her focus was then set on the big car and she started to wiggle in her dad’s arm. When Charles looked at what she was pointing at he smiled gently.

“Yes princess, it’s daddy’s car. Have you seen how big it is? It’s the fastest one. And it’s fast so daddy can come back to you before you notice that he left.”

Still with her in his arms, he went to the Ferrari so Julia could see it better. All the mechanics were still working on the last details before the race.

“Do you want to go in the car with daddy?”

Julia laughed and smiled, something Charles interpreted as a yes. He asked quickly to the engineers if it was okay and as they answered positively, Charles gave for a moment Julia to Lyanna who came near him to take a few pictures. As Charles was sitting in the car, Lyanna gave him back Julia who was eager to stay with her dad. She snapped a few pictures and sent them on the family group chat they shared with Charles’ and her family.

Soon enough it was time to leave Charles on his own so he could focus. Watching her dad walking away from her made Julia cried and screamed, breaking Charles heart and making him feel guilty. Lyanna reassured him, telling him they would be okay and that as soon as Julia would see him on the screens she would calm down.

“Well… be fast. Come back to us in one piece. We love you.” Said Lyanna as she was helping him to remove his bracelets, a tradition that came up naturally when she attended the races.

“I love you too. Both of you.”

Lyanna was pretty confident about the race. Charles started on pole, on a track he knew by heart and where it was hard to overtake. But still, a part of her would always fear for him, no matter what. As for Julia, even if she didn’t really grasp what her dad was doing, she quickly understood that the red car ahead of everyone was her dad and whenever she was seeing him she would clap into her little hands and make screams of excitement, something Lyanna found endearing and didn’t hesitate to capture on videos.

Finally Charles won the Monaco Grand Prix, for the second time in his career. Lyanna was so proud of him and she couldn’t help but let a few tears escape behind her eyelids. The first ting he did when he stepped out of the car was to run to Lyanna and Julia whom he took and spun her around making her laugh. The photographs that were there didn’t hesitate to take a few pictures. He then took Lyanna’s hand to pull her against him and deeply kissed her. She didn’t know if it was her tears of Charles’ but the kiss had a salty taste.

“My two princesses. My two lucky charms. This win is for you both.” Whispered Charles against her lips.

Yes, Monaco would forever hold a special place in Charles’ heart.

================

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[shesthespinstersimmer]

The Mujers

Time to talk about Lourdes “Dimples” Mujer

Some stats:

Prison nickname: Shake

She and Myra are sisters - Myra’s the oldest

They have different fathers

( when Myra got with Fernanda, that made Cora, Lupe and Lo cousins, so to speak - Lo hit on Cora relentlessly until she explained that ) 

Even though Dimples is an OG, Lo never had any interest in the life - she was too busy stealing girlfriends. No one dare challenged it because they didn’t wanna have to see Dimples. That’s not to say she never got her ass kicked; she tended to cheat a lot. 

Dimples was given a life sentence for killing Lo’s father behind the incident with Cora curtesy of Sumner Monaghan - the only regret she had was not seeing her daughter anymore.

Lo & Ritz

By the time Lo was legal, she was already covered in tattoos - most of them were homemade from the barrio. She had a terrible habit of getting her girlfriends’ names tatted; her mother told her that was dumb as hell, but of course she didn’t listen. She tried to cover up a few when she got older, but it was cheap work and was never very good.

When she started making a little money, she started hunting for a good artist. She met Ritz at a tattoo convention, and she started slowly doing cover work and repairs. She was hesitant at first, because most artists don’t like to cover other peoples work, but Lo managed to convince her – especially when she explained why she didn’t want some of them.

They worked on and off for several years, then Ritz left to pursue some business opportunities. Every time she came back, they’d do some more work. Needless to say, Lo hit on her multiple times, but Ritz declined, trying to keep it just business.

That’s until the visit where she met Lo’s current girlfriend, Zingi. They hit it off right away – discussing travel, food, business. Ritz couldn’t ignore the fact she was gorgeous, either. 

So – when they presented her with the idea of joining them for a little fun, Ritz accepted.  What none of them planned on was feelings to develop. Ritz’s feelings for Zingi were primarily physical, as well as intellectual - but mostly friends with benefits.

But Lo? It was like they were attached by an invisible cord. Maybe it was the hours of being skin to skin. Maybe it was transforming Lo from who she was to who she is. Maybe it was all the time collaborating on the art. But she felt it. They both did.

They were going to go for it; at least that’s what Ritz thought. But when Zingi told her Lo didn’t feel the same, it lowkey crushed her. Had she read everything wrong?

With that, Ritz vanished - traveling the worlds, building her business, and trying to forget.

When she disappeared, Lo thought she’d misread things too. Maybe Ritz was over the both of them. Zingi told her no different.

Maybe it’s for the best; how would Lo look in an actual “relationship“, anyway?

Now that Zingi has confessed to Ritz, will she call?

If she does, what will Lo do?

Stay tuned, I guess

Previous / Next / Beginning

[rbts-novel]

CHAPTER 5

The next morning, right at 6:30 sharp, Choi and Hyeong´s alarms went off. While the first one woke up a bit grumpy, since he had pushed himself over his limits last night when drinking with his roommate, the girl's mood when waking up had nothing to do with it. 

As soon as her alarm went off, she felt some movement around her and then remembered; she had stayed over at Wonwoo’s place and Seol was lying right next to her at the blue carpet that covered almost all of the guest bedroom floor. 

Hi there - she said to the dog while rubbing her head, not noticing Wonwoo was standing right at the door looking at the scene- Did you sleep well? Did you? Yes? Let’s go eat, yeah? - she continued showing affection to the dog when it’s owner spoke up

At this point I’m going to find Seol speaking when I get back from work — the deep voice coming from the guy who was leaning against the door frame made Beth jump right away. 

For god’s sake, Won — Beth’s right hand was now placed right where her heart is — You’re either coming home to Seol speaking or to me having a heart attack. 

Sorry, not my intention for me to be the reason your heart skips a bit — a mischievous smile popped up in his face. He was teasing Beth but she was fine with it. 

“Pft, you wished, Jeon, you wished!” —  she said, playing along while coming outside of the room to be welcomed with a table filled with food. 

Let’s have breakfast, I will drive you to work, yeah? And you are bringing an umbrella, okay? — the look on Wonwoo's face showed how serious he was being, so Beth couldn't dare to speak back. 

A scene quite similar was taking part in another part of the city. Cheol, whose resistance to alcohol had become weaker, woke up looking wasted. Meanwhile, his flatmate, the news anchor, was already dressed up and ready to leave the house. As he walked out, he came across Choi, who looked like he had fought against three different fantastic creatures. 

Wah, hyung — he said looking at the other guy — You forgot you’re no longer 21 or what? Take a cold shower and eat everything there is on the counter. And take a taxi, you’re not in a situation where you should take your own car to work. 

Cheol, who had spent one of the worst nights of his life ever, just stood there in the middle of the aisle listening to his flatmate tell him off. Had it been at any other moment, he would have talked back, but now he knew Kwan was in the right. 

Don’t worry too much. I won’t do something stupid. It’s enough for me to know Beth will see me in this situation. — Cheol ran both his hands through his hair while allowing air to come out of his nostrils. He was desperate. 

Just the thought of how Beth would react when she saw him in that situation was such a hard punch for him.  

But little did Cheol know that, the spanish girl who was currently having breakfast with her best friend was nothing but a bundle of nerves while looking forward to seeing the tall man who provided her a feeling no words could describe. 

20 minutes later, at 6:50,  Beth was getting off of Wonwoo’s black lexus when she recognised Cheol from a distance. 

Hey, Cheol! — and as if in a movie, he turned around slowly — Let´s go inside together and grab something on our way up — the distance between them was now shorter, until there was none.  

Right behind them, a honk sounded and both waved goodbye to Wonwoo, who had a meeting in Gimpo and had to rush

What would you like to have? — while looking at the screen in front of her, Beth asked Cheol — Hello?

Cheol shook his head and composed himself.  I´m sorry — a small smile which showed his dimples proved he was truly sorry. — I will let you choose for me

So Beth did as told, she chose what Cheol would have; a strawberry milkshake along with a pastry that tastes like lemon. 

While looking for her purse inside her bag, she heard a “beep”. She looked at the screen in front of her and then at the man beside her, who couldn’t help but smile fondly at her. 

But, Cheol —her eyes big and rounded, for how surprised she was — I was the one who gave the idea of picking something on our way up. I should have paid. 

I wouldn’t allow you to pay for something — Cheol got the ticket that was printed by the white machine they had just used — All you need to do is choose the plan and be there. Your company is worth every single won that I own — he looked right into Beth’s eyes, smiled and playfully bopped her nose before walking to the counter. 

“What was that?” Both of them thought. 

Beth, because she had never seen Cheol pull such a move. He had never been so straightforward when it came to her. And he, because he couldn’t tell if those were some side effects of last night’s soju or his courage building up all of a sudden. 

When the number in the paper the guy was holding was called by a worker, they each grabbed their drink and pastry and went upstairs. Once again, and if the universe was playing a joke on them, they were the only ones at the lift. Beth couldn’t stand the silence so she decided to break it 

Today we will find out who goes to Canada. I wonder who the lucky ones are  — she slurped a bit of the iced tea she was holding in her left hand while turning her body towards the guy to show him she was interested in the conversation. 

Me too! To be honest with you, I think Ji Hoon’s idea of having members of the office experiencing the feelings themselves is out of this world. — and to it, Beth couldn't help but laugh out loud. — Now, let’s walk into the meeting room, everybody will arrive at any point. 

All the workers had sat down at the large table when the CEO walked in. He was carrying his black briefcase and turned on the computer he would use for the presentations. 

Good morning, everyone — he greeted the team— As you know, today we will find out who goes to Canada. For the trip, the two lucky ones will stay in Whistler, a lovely area north to Vancouver. 

As the words came out of his mouth, some pictures were shown catching reactions of all types from those present at the table. 

Now, let’s do the draw. For it, my close friend Dong Chan has developed this website which will choose the two members. This is how it works: I will copy and paste all your names from this excel — he pointed to the excel he had opened previously— into the website. Then, Dong Chan himself will press the “Choose the winners” button and the magic will be done. — Dong Chan, who had never been to the TraveLee agency before, agreed behind Ji Hoon while smiling. — Anything to add, Dong Chan? 

Well, yes — the man who had been standing there in silence spoke for the first time — I’ve created this website with a special feature; once the two names have been shown, it will be destroyed automatically. — gasps could be heard as the strongest reaction to what he had just said, then he continued to speak — I know what the deep web can hide and I didnt want your information to be kept. 

Somehow, he managed for everyone to agree with his last sentence. But that was far away from the truth. 

The real reason was that the web had been manipulated to show two names in particular. 

Let’s do the draw, shall we? — the CEO asked and everyone agreed. 

With that, Dong Chan sat in front of the computer, copied and pasted all the names in the website and asked the green colored button that was shown on screen and that read “Choose the winners”. 

And with it, the magic - actually, the hack- was done. Two names popped up in the middle of the screen “Choi Seung Cheol. Elizabeth Hyeong Garo”

While everybody was chatting and congratulating both of them, their hearts skipped a bit when reading the names on the screen. 

They were going on a trip to another continent alone. 

Beth couldn’t dare to turn around and take a look at the guy behind her who was staring at the screen while strongly holding a pen to try and hide his happiness from others. 

Would the intensity of their feelings for each other melt the cold weather they were about to face?