#i got nothing that i actually wanted to do done this weekend (writing)

[jonnywaistcoat]

Hey, Horrormaster Sims. I have a wildly different question that barely relates to TMA (Sorry about that) but its about your own process. Please, if you could, can you tell me how your first drafts made you feel? I'm on the fence about writing my own thing (not a podcast, and again, not Magnus related, though I have a million little aus for that delightful tragedy you wrote, thank you for that!) But I'm discouraged by the collective notion that first drafts are always terrible, because there's no ... examples I can solidly use to help the dumb anxiety beast in my brain that tells me everyone who is in any way popular popped out a golden turd and not, well, you know. One of my friends said 'Oh I bet Jonathan Sims's first draft was nothing like what he wanted' and I got the bright idea to just. Send you an ask, since you're trapped on this hellsite like I am. Anyway, thanks for reading this (if you do) and if you'd rather ask it privately, I am cool with that. Alternatively, you're a hella busy man with Protocol (you and Alex are making me rabid, i hope you know) and you can just ignore this! Cheers, man, and good words.

To my mind all writing advice, especially stuff that's dispensed as truisms (like "first drafts are always garbage") are only useful inasmuch as such advice prompts you to pay attention to how you write best: what helps your workflow, what inspires you, what keeps you going through the rough bits. There are as many different ways to write (and write well) as there are people who write and so always consider this sort of thing a jumping off point to try out or keep in mind as you gradually figure out your own ways of writing.

On first drafts specifically, I think the wisdom "all first drafts are bad" is a bit of unhelpful oversimplification of the fact that, deadlines notwithstanding, no piece of writing goes out until you decide its ready, so don't get too hung up on your first draft of a thing, because a lot of writers find it much easier to edit a complete work than to try and redraft as they go. It's also important to not let perfectionism or the fact your initial draft isn't coming out exactly how you want stop you from actually finishing the thing, as it's always better to have something decent and done than to have something perfect and abandoned.

But the idea of a "first draft" is also kind of a fluid one. The "first draft" you submit to someone who's commissioned you will probably be one you've already done a bunch of tweaks and edits to, as opposed to the "first draft" you pump out in a frenzy in an over-caffeinated weekend. For my part, my first drafts tend to end up a bit more polished than most, because I'm in the habit of reading my sentences out loud as I write them (a habit picked up from years of audio writing) so I'll often write and re-write a particular sentence or paragraph a few times to get the rhythm right before moving to the next one. This means my first drafts tend to take longer, but are a bit less messy. I'm also a big-time planner and pretty good at sticking to the structures I lay out so, again, tend to front load a lot of stuff so I get a better but slower first draft.

At the end of the day, though, the important thing is to get in your head about it in a good way (How do I write best? what helps me make writing I enjoy and value? What keeps me motivated?) and not in a bad way (What if it's not good enough? What if everyone hates it? What if it doesn't make sense?) so that you actually get it done.

As for how my first drafts made me feel? Terrible, every one of 'em No idea if that's reflective of their quality, though, tbh - I hate reading my own writing until I've had a chance to forget it's mine (I can only ever see the flaws). I suppose there's theoretically a none-zero chance they were pure fragments of True Art and creative perfection, but Alex's editing notes make that seem unlikely.

[cheriladycl01]

hiya could you maybe write a Fernando x Reader one shot, where something happens between the two of them they get into a fight and Fernando gives the reader the silent treatment refuses to talk to them. Goes on for a few days and finally the reader cracks and is really upset and cries in front of Nando reader thinks he doesn’t love her anymore etc.. and they make up in the end.. as much as I want it angsty I do love the fluff in the end

The Silent Treatment - Fernando x Reader

Plot: You and Fernando get into a rare fight. It’s a big one though and you say something you didn’t really mean making Fernando give you the pouty silent treatment …

You and Fernando were like salt and pepper and butter and bread. You rarely argued and always got alone, if you did argue you both had effortless communication skills meaning that whatever happened was resolved pretty quickly.

But after a not so good race weekend for Fernando that you couldn't attend because you were halfway across the world singing for a collab bran deal you were doing and a stressful weekend for you creating content for this brand deal you were exhausted when you got him straight from the plane Monday night.

"Hey" you smile tiredly at Fernando who is sat on the sofa. You're so sleepy you don't even notice his sour look.

"What is this?" he demands looking around the house and you look over to him confused at his raised voice.

"What?" you ask and he gestures to the house, you look around and you could tell it was a little disorganized and messy than it usually was but not dirty or unclean.

"Sorry honey, but we've both been extremely busy this weekend! I left only a few hours after you. You came back before me" you giggle thinking he wasn't actually mad, but the minute he stood up starting to do everything himself in an overly aggressive way had you at a stand still. Like a deer caught in headlights. He'd never acted like this before. It must have been a really bad weekend.

"Baby, why don't you sit down. We're both tired and I can just do it tomorrow while you are on the sim!" you exclaim coming closer to him to try and pull his arm away from the clothes hamper he was currently putting stuff into.

"God, why wasn't any of this done before you left?" he asks with almost a glare and you are in shock.

You and Fernando never expected anything from one another, whether it was Sex, Chores, Help... nothing was expected at all. So why was he demanding this should have been done by you before you left.

"I guess I was just busy" you explain.

"Busy more like lazy" he mutters, which was true sometimes you did have a tendency to have home days off where you didn't do any chores or shopping and would just laze about, but every needed those kind of days... right?

"Alright says Mr Crash on turn 1, maybe you should be focusing more on racing than bothering me about stupid little things and you might actually win again!" you say in the heat of the moment.

You regret it almost straight away blubbering after trying to back track what you said but it had already all come out.

"Nando, I- I didn't mean that I'm so so sorry!" you exclaim, but he just walks off going into the spare bedroom shutting and locking the door behind him.

Tears fill your eyes as what you said really settles in. You start to make dinner for the both of you with scraps from the cupboards and whatever was in-date in the fridge. It ended up just a simple pasta and home made garlic bread.

"Nando?" you knock on the door to the guest bedroom hoping he might come out for some food. When he doesn't after a few minutes you sigh going back to the kitchen. You wrap up his food with some clingfilm, leaving it out on the plate to cool down while you go round the house doing all the bits that hadn't been done while you and Fernando hadn't been here.

They were just little bits, like the clothes and drying up and putting the blankets from the sofa away in their basket, hoovering and dusting the stairs. Small little jobs that weren't taking you long.

The more you thought about it, the worse you felt. You could have just done these jobs before you left it wouldn't have been difficult and it wouldn't have taken much time. You were just very stressed over the brand deal.

You went to bed feeling incredibly guilty. You tossed and turned the whole night not being able to sleep with your husband not cuddled up in the bed with you.

You woke up the next day, going straight to the shower trying to wash away all your emotions from the previous night ready to start on a clean slate with Fernando.

However, what you didn't expect was Fernando to be waiting outside the ensuite for you.

"Buenos Dias!" you smile at him, but he just brushes past you, ignoring your morning greeting to him.

And that's how it went for the rest of the day. He would just leave the house without saying anything, coming back sweaty and with his trainer. He would refuse to eat the food and drinks you made for him, making you have to double up whatever you made for lunch as your dinner so the food didn't go to waste.

You tried at ever opportune moment to try and talk to him but he kept on ignoring you. It was stressing you out, all of this silent treatment. Was he really being this petty.

But once it got to day 3 you'd had enough. You were practically pulling your hair out at the fact the he had said nothing. You were doubting yourself wondering if you were really that horrible of a person and that Fernando no longer loved you.

You were laying in bed when he came home, sobbing into the pillow that still faintly smelt like him despite him not having been in the bed for the last few days.

Fernando was shocked to not see you, for the last few days you'd practically been running yourself raw trying to get himself to talk whilst cleaning then house. You'd even cancelled a few job opportunities that had come your way, feeling as though even more distance between the pair of you would be awful.

Now Fernando was the one to feel bad, he knew he was being petty by not talking to you, and he agreed with himself that he over-reacted when it came to your arrival home. But at the same time what you said to him, really really fucking hurt.

He knocked on the door and your sobs turned into small hiccups as you attempted to calm your breathing down.

"Yeah?" you ask, but it sounds a little chocked up to Fernando who feels just awful.

"Mi Amore!" he says as he pushes open the door a little. You fully sit up on the bed, red puffy eyes and tear stains down your cheeks making him sigh.

He didn't mean to make you this upset.

"I'm sorry Nando, I really didn't mean it I just was so confused why you were so angry with me and then you called me lazy which I know i can be but you've never said it as more than a joke and ..." you ramble until he comes forward pulling you into a sweet and short kiss.

"I'm the one that should be sorry, I didn't mean to call you lazy. I was just exhausted after an awful weekend and it didn't help that you were absent for it... i just felt useless" he explains and you nod.

"Please can we go back to talking things out? I don't like it when you freeze me out! It feels awful. I thought ... you didn't love me anymore and were looking into a divorce" you almost whimper at the thought of Fernando cutting ties with you in such a legal fashion. You genuinely thought that would break your heart.

"I'd never leave you mi amore! You are without a doubt the best thing in my life!" he exclaims pulling you into a hug and kissing the top of your head.

"I love you so so much! I'll talk to you next time okay? I promise" he sighs kissing all over your face, knowing you'd both be working overtime for the next few weeks, apologizing to one another.

Taglist:

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[retroaria]

Hey hey I hope u doin well :) I would like to request a wind breaker headcannon when their girl is really sassy/badmouth like swaering and gets herself into trouble. Maybe for Suo , Kaji, Sakura, Toma and Umemiya :).

a/n: i’m notoriously not good at writing for hiragi so i apologize for excluding him :( thank you so much for the request and i appreciate your patience!! <3

• | WIND BREAKER M.LIST | •

Suō finds your behavior rather entertaining, so much so that he lets it go on longer than it should some times. Not that he finds it humorous or anything - he finds it really attractive actually.

he loves watching you handle your own and be fierce about it, sometimes leans over and makes a cat growling noise in your ear (such a cheeky loser lol)

defends you with the biggest smile on his face, “sorry, she’s a hot head.” - he’s not sorry at all and he’s about to go give you a fist bump for telling the person off.

if ever he finds you biting off more than you can chew, he steps in and handles the rest for you. you guys are kind of evil, an evil team if you will. (it’s pretty romantic!)

kaji’s favorite little moment of life with you is when he gets to say “i told you so.” not only does it grant him exclusive access to the adorable pouty face you make while he teases you, it also makes him feel less guilty for not actually stopping you from running your mouth and getting into trouble.

“i told you not to do that.” sure he did! once or twice…maybe…under his breath as to not distract you from unleashing your rath. seriously though, for as much distaste as he shows in your rowdiness, he can’t hide the little smirk that gives him away while he sits back and watches you go off. he isn’t sure if he should be amused, proud, or concerned, but somehow he’s all of the above.

kaji’s biggest fear would be you causing some sort of drama in the community, and the rest of the guys have to start keeping tabs on you. so he keeps tabs on you himself and lends a hand when he sees necessary. he’s also sure to cover your tracks and would defend you with his life (unless he gets bored and realizes it’s pointless but in that case he knows you can figure it out on your own) partners in crime!

umemiya pretends to have zero recollection when a story of your aggressive misadventures is mentioned to him. “whaaaaat she didn’t do that, pffft- and if she did i’m sure she had a reason…yeah…” he must’ve been out of town that weekend. he loves you with all your fiery rage of course, but some of the stuff you’ve done really makes his head spin (in a simultaneously loving and nauseating way)

he gives you the same pep talks he gives the other guys in bofurin and encourages you to fight every battle with a purpose. once you get the hang of that he’s sure to let you know that “because i wanted to” and “because i can” are not good enough reasons to curse someone out and threaten to have your boyfriend come and beat them up. (he knew what he was signing up for)

despite the different ground you both stand on in certain situations, he loves that you’re strong and independent and sees those qualities as being forever beneficial, so he wouldn’t change you for the world. maybe just change your approach! i’m sure that would spare him a few drops of sweat and flustered apologies on your behalf.

sakura is truly not fond of how many uncomfortable (and slightly dangerous?) situations you’ve roped him into. hes got hands for days, but he can’t really formulate full sentences sometimes, so he tends to take the back seat and silently beg you to stop and leave them alone and just go home or else they’re gonna get even more angry and- oh but if that actually happens suddenly he’s pumped and ready to hand out mean left hooks like it’s nothing.

he can’t quite wrap his head around how quickly and fearlessly you engage in aggressive verbal confrontation without just rolling your sleeves up before even opening your mouth. he finds it just as admirable as it is scary.

unlike umemiya, knowing you threatened some asshole trying to mess with you that HE was gonna come and mess them up gives him instant gratification. he’s on the way! actually he was probably already there with you and as soon as you stopped yelling and he could take his hands off his ears he’s ready to defend your honor. he’s the robin to your batman sometimes, but just let him believe he’s batman, for his sake and yours.

wooo another wind breaker post for the books!!! i’m sorry i’m a sleeper agent when it comes to writing anything besides blue lock but have faith in me guys -aria

[il-miele-che-scrive]

lando norris x reader

based on this request (because I take requests and I have to make it everyone's business): Hi not sure if you take requests but in case you do could you write reader x lando where y/n is a celebrity or an influencer and she drops subtle hints at who is her new bf maybe some fun facts about him like "oh he hates fish and I'm making a lot of fish for christmas" and eventually the fans are like "guys it's totally lando"

words count: 2.5k + fans' tweets at the end

author's note: my first request and it was so fun to write 🥹 also added a hospital scene from the time of Vegas GP so we could experience a bit of protective Y/n and painkillers-high Lando (I forgot about a fish scene)

edit: I've just realized I've messed up the dates so let's pretend the award thingie was in '23 instead of '22

A secret boyfriend

It was a normal Tuesday of 2023 when Y/n Y/l/n and Lando Norris met. Well, not so normal since it was the day Y/n won the first award in her musical career, and Lando had his first debut as an award presenter.

"And the winner is..." He opened the envelope and flipped it, as he held it upside down. "Y/n Y/l/n."

Y/n couldn't believe it at first. She looked at her best friend with tears in her eyes. They hugged before Y/n stood up and got on her way to the scene, still questioning if she actually heard her name or was it her mind playing tricks on her.

"Thank you," Y/n sent Lando a smile as he handed her the award, "are you sure it's for me?" She joked, trying to mask the anxiety she felt from the fact that now she had to give a speech while everyone watched.

"Absolutely, it's all yours. Well deserved." Lando said feeling a bit starstruck from being so close to one of his favorite singers.

Just this one simple interaction was enough for both Y/n's and Lando's fanbases to raise suspicions. However, what was unavailable to the fans' eyes were Y/n and Lando's interaction at the after party. Later the same evening, he approached her.

"Hey, congratulations again." He said with a grin on his face. "Your music is amazing, I couldn't imagine you not winning this award."

"Stop with the compliments, I'm gonna blush." Y/n laughed. "Nice to meet you. Lando Norris, isn't it?"

"Yeah, do you watch Formula One?"

"I'm going to be honest from the beginning and admit I did not, but I did my research and I just might start being a fan."

"If you're ever down for hearing firsthand gossip straight from the track, I'm at your service."

"I'd love to hear all the gossip over a coffe sometime."

"Let me give you my number then and I'll arrange something."

And so a few days later they had a coffee date. The date marked the beginning of a carefully hidden romance. They wanted to keep it a secret from the public eye, not wanting people prying on them, trying to estimate how long they'll last.

Keeping the relationship secret somehow came easy to them. They were seen on the coffee date indeed, however they made sure to have the next dates in private. The fans on both sides were literally clueless to the whole ongoing romance. Y/n had her tour, Lando had his races and it wasn't even a little bit suspicious how a lot concerts aligned with race weekends.

Unfortunately, one day Y/n went live on Instagram with her best friend. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n didn't know how to keep her mouth shut. Unfortunately, because Y/f/n gave away the big secret.

"You know, guys, we're gonna use lives as a way to spend time together," she joked, "I've been feeling a bit abandoned since Y/n has been spending so much time with her boyfriend. Even on tour and with his busy schedule, can you believe this?"

Y/n's eyes widened. "Y/f/n!" She scolded her friend.

"What? It's a joke, no worries, I can see you're finally happy and I'm happy for you!"

"Y/f/n! You weren't supposed to say that!"

But the damage was already done. There was nothing Y/n could say to save the situation. So instead she decided to start dropping subtle hints for the fans to guess. Maybe it was the right time to make the relationship public after five months. They couldn't hide it forever.

Y/n started the hint game when she was on Jimmy Fallon's show.

"Y/n Y/l/n, everybody!" Jimmy announced when the girl walked in and sat down on the armchair. "I haven't seen you in a year and so much happened during this time!"

"I know, I know," Y/n said with a smile. "I'm so glad I could make a quick pit stop here on my way to Montreal."

"I'm happy to have you here. You won an award, you got a boyfriend. How- how did that happen?"

Y/n chuckled at Jimmy's question, realizing it was the perfect opportunity to play the hint game. "Oh, life takes unexpected turns and sometimes you find yourself on a fast track to happiness."

Jimmy raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. "Anything you'd like to share about this mystery man?"

"You know, Jimmy, I've finally found someone who knows how to navigate the twists and turns in life."

The audience laughed and the speculations among fans skyrocketed as they tried to connect the dots from Y/n's playful hints.

The other time, Y/n was on a popular radio show. The host couldn't help but ask about the latest reveal of a big secret.

"You were left hurting really badly after your previous relationship," he spoke, "it's really good to see you finally happy."

"It was a big thing for me. Still is." The girl admitted. "My previous relationship made it hard to open up to a man like that again."

"What made you do it eventually then?"

"I decided life is too short for keeping things in the slow lane," Y/n chuckled, "and when you meet someone that can belt out a Taylor Swift song with the same passion as you, it's hard not to fall for them."

"So your mystery man is a Swiftie too? Any chance we might know him?"

"Oh, I bet many people who are listening right now would know him."

"Now you got us all intrigued, your fans wouldn't forgive me if I didn't ask for more."

Y/n grinned, "Well, he's practically flawless, except for one little detail. He's a scorpio. And let me tell you, when we're playing our silly little racing video games, his competitive scorpio side really comes out. It's all fun and games until his racing pride is at stake."

The host laughed. "I'm sure fans are already trying to guess who this mystery gamer is. And you, are you competitive?"

"Yes, totally. He's more experienced than I am, but it doesn't mean I won't try my hardest to beat him."

"Is there any trait you don't share?"

The girl nodded, "Yes, one thing I'm secretly jealous of. He's quite known for being able to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable conditions. I wish I could do that. I'm all about pillows and comfy blankets, but he can just doze off anywhere, anytime."

A few days later, in the warmth of Lando's bedroom, surrounded by the hum of city life outside the windows, Y/n brought up the topic with a playful glint in her eyes.

"You know, Lando, fans have been buzzing lately. It's quite entertaining."

"Well, you have started this yourself," Lando laughed, laying his head in his girlfriend's lap.

"Not me, it was Y/f/n. I just went with it and turned it into something fun for myself." Y/n defended herself. Her fingers started gently playing with Lando's hair.

"You do seem to be having a great time, leading your fans on and all that," he joked. "Are there chances they'll solve your mystery anytime soon?"

"I've seen a few tweets accusing you of being my secret boyfriend, but most people don't really believe that."

"What?" He sit up dramatically. He continued in a fake-offended voice. "Do they think I'm not good enough?"

Y/n giggled.

Lando's mock offense turned into a playful pout. "I can't believe they're doubting my boyfriend potential. I mean, come on, look at me!" He gestured theatrically at himself.

Y/n burst into laughter, "Maybe we should give them a little more to work with, stir the pot a bit."

Lando leaned in, placing a quick kiss on Y/n's cheek. "You're a master of turning chaos into entertainment, you know that?"

"It's quite a compliment, coming from a Formula One driver."

Lando flashed a grin. "Well, we both have our talents, don't we? Maybe we should drop some subtle hints during a race?"

And so they waited months for the Grand Prix in Vegas, because that was where they could start rumours about getting married. Sure, they could get married spontaneously anywhere, but there was no better place than Las Vegas.

Thankfully they managed to keep the relationship secret all these months, breadcrumbing Y/n's fans. After the Vegas GP, Y/n and Lando where supposed to go for an afterparty, get 'drunk' and then 'married'.

Unfortunately, they plans changed the direction a bit with Lando's crash. Y/n's heart sank as she watched the unfolding drama on the big screens. The thrill of the race was replaced with concern for Lando's well-being. Plans for the afterparty and the playful hints about a fake marriage suddenly didn't matter anymore.

Emergency crews rushed onto the track, the anxious seconds felt like an eternity as they worked to help Lando get out of his racing car. Y/n's heart pounded in her chest, the world around her blurring. The fact that he managed to walk away from the car was a small comfort.

Y/n's phone buzzed moment after Lando disappeared from her sight.

from: Lando

I'm okay, they're taking me to st vincent's hospital. Will update you soon. Love you xx

to: Lando

Be there in a second, see you soon

A shaky exhale escaped Y/n, she felt slightly relief and ran towards the exit. She was sure Lando wasn't okay, not after that crash, but at least he was conscious and walking on his own (although it could be the adrenaline). A moment later, when Y/n got into her own car, her phone buzzed again.

from: Lando

Yknow you could post a pic from the hospital, that would stir the pot

Y/n smiled at the massage. If he could think of that, he might had been better than she thought.

The neon lights of Las Vegas blurred as she drove through the city streets, trying to get to the hospital as quick as possible. Despite the speed, the journey seemed to stretch in time.

Arriving at St. Vincent's hospital, Y/n rushed through the entrance, her heart pounding. The reception area looked like a maze in her anxious state, but she managed to find a nurse.

"I'm here for Lando Norris," the girl said.

The nurse looked her up and down. "Are you his family?"

"I'm his girlfriend."

"Then, unfortunately, I cannot let you see him."

"His family is in Europe, I'm the closest to family you can get here in Vegas."

"The closest, but not family. I'll ask you nicely to wait here for further information."

Y/n nodded with an angry expression on her face. She sat down in the waiting room, pulling out her phone and dialing the number of her manager.

"Hey, Mia," the singer said. "I need you to do something." Urgency and frustration were visible in her voice.

"What's going on, Y/n? Are you okay?" Mia's concerned voice came through the line.

"It's Lando. He's been in a crash during the race in Vegas, and they've taken him to St. Vincent's Hospital. I'm here, but they won't let me in because I'm not 'family.' That's so stupid."

"I'm sorry, Y/n, but I still don't see what you want me to do."

"I want you to make a donation for the hospital from my account. Send them like $100,000. I think it'll be enough to let me in."

"Okay, I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Mia. I appreciate it more than you know."

Y/n took a deep breath, trying to calm herself down. Anxiety lingered in the air. But there was no way they wouldn't let her in after that.

Y/n didn't know how much time had passed. She felt as if all she did was staring at a wall in front of her, ocassionally moving her eyes to the floor or the ceiling. She was fidgeting with her fingers as the same nurse approached her.

"Miss Y/l/n, you're allowed to see Mr Norris in the room 305."

Without a word, Y/n rushed to the room. She found Lando lying in the hospital bed, his gaze turning towards the door as she walked in.

"Lando." Y/n breathed his name, rushing to his side and taking his hand in hers. "I was so worried. And they didn't want to let me in at first."

He managed a dazed smile, his eyes slightly glazed. "Hey, you're real, right? This isn't happening in my head?"

Y/n chuckled. "Yes, I'm real. It's me."

He squinted at her. "You sure? You look like a beautiful hallucination."

"Well, if I'm a hallucination, at least a beautiful one."

"I feel like I'm floating on marshmallow clouds, but you're the most beautiful marshmallow I've ever seen."

Y/n couldn't help but laugh. "I think you might be on some strong painkillers, love."

"Ah, that explains the marshmallows. They're having a party in my head," Lando said with a dreamy expression.

Y/n burst into laughter, the tension of the earlier moments disappearing in the room.

"Did you know," Lando continued, "that racing is like trying to catch a rainbow? And if you're lucky, you might find a pot of gold at the end."

"Is there an Irish leprechaun as well?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. Maybe that's who's been guiding me all this time."

"You gotta ask him to make the rainbow less slippery next time then."

He nodded solemnly. "I'll have a serious talk with him. No more slippery rainbows, only smooth, marshmallow clouds."

As they joked around, Y/n couldn't ignore the quiet concern for Lando's well-being. She gently brushed his hair away from his forehead. "You scared me, you know? Seeing you crash like that."

"I'm sorry, love. I didn't mean to scare you. I promise I'll be more careful next time. But you have to promise me something too.""

"What is it?"

"You'll visit me in the marshmallow cloud world sometimes. It gets lonely up there."

Y/n laughed, leaning in to press a gentle kiss on his cheek. "I'll visit anytime you want."

"You know, even in the middle of all this craziness, having you here feels like finding that pot of gold at the end of the rainbow."

As the night carried on, the hospital room became a cocoon shielding them from everything that layed outside its walls. Y/n found herself falling asleep on an armchai next to Lando's bed.

In the quiet ambiance of the night, Lando's mind wandered through the whimsical landscapes of his medication-induced thoughts. He couldn't help but marvel at the coincidence that brought Y/n into his life.

It all started with handing her an award. It seemed like it happened a whole lifetime ago and now, there they were, in the middle of marshmallow clouds.

Y/n, nestled in the armchair, breathed softly in her sleep, completely unaware of Lando's reflections. Soon enough, Lando allowed himself to succumb to the gentle pull of sleep as well.

[navybrat817]

I saw an Instagram reel - https://www.instagram.com/reel/C2H-mV3y2ng/?igsh=dHNlYWl2N3RpbWdz - that immediately made me think of Stud and Smartie! They’re one of my favorite pairings that you write about and I can never get enough of their story, they are perfect for each other! 🥰❤️

I hope you have a good weekend, Navy 🥰

I love this, nonnie, and it's very Stud and Smartie coded!

Just Because

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky gets you a card just because.

Word Count: Over 1k

Warnings: Fluff, established relationship, inner monologue, slight feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Lovelies, your girl is worn out, but I hope you enjoy this Stud and Smartie ficlet. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You yawned as you let yourself into the apartment, but quickly smiled when Alpine and Soot rushed to see you at the door. They brushed against both of your legs once you got your shoes off and set your keys down, your smile widening when they purred. You half expected Bucky to call out to you or make a joke that the cats were crowding his girl, but all that greeted you was silence.

No music, no television, nothing.

“Honey, I’m home!” You called out, frowning when Bucky didn't answer. “Where is he, huh? Is he taking a nap?” You asked, crouching down so Alpine could rub her head against your hand. Soot patiently waited until she was done for his turn. Like Bucky, he was crazy about his other half. You were convinced that was the case.

Okay, but if he’s actually taking a nap, I’m crawling into bed with him because I deserve all the naps and cuddles and orgasms. I mean, it’s not like I did anything extremely worthy of those things today, but adulting is hard, so I actually really do deserve love and warmth and hot sex.

You ceased the ramblings in your head as you headed toward your room to get into something comfortable that you didn't plan to be in for long. You felt your heart jump when you saw an envelope taped to your door, a smile spreading across your face when you recognized Bucky’s handwriting. It had to be something special or important, otherwise it would've been a post-it note.

But what is it?

You lightly bounced on your feet as you carefully took the envelope from the door. Part of you hoped it was not the first clue to a scavenger hunt. Not that you wouldn't enjoy that, but you wanted to set something like that up for him as a birthday surprise. Or a romantic gesture.

He deserves it.

Happiness bloomed inside you when you opened the card. It was reminiscent of the puzzle he had made for you when he revealed his feelings to you, the different pieces creating a heart. There was even a smaller envelope that held the “missing piece” for you to finish it.

YOU COMPLETE ME.

You thought your heart would burst from how full it was.

Gasping when you felt a warm, familiar chest against your back, you smiled as Bucky pulled you back against him by the hip. “This is beautiful. What’s the occasion?”

It isn't our anniversary. Not my birthday. Already engaged. Wait, was it the first time we made a pizza together? Is it the anniversary from the first time I blew him?

Bucky chuckled as if he read your mind. “I’m glad you like it. And there’s no occasion for it.”

“Okay then,” you said, whining when he pressed a gentle kiss to your shoulder. “So, why get me such a nice card then?”

It was a sweet gesture. One he clearly put some thought into since the card looked homemade. You'd have to get it framed.

“I got it for you just because I was thinking of you. I got it just because,” he said against your ear, making you shiver. “Because I love you, Smartie.”

He is the most romantic, perfect man and I will not burst into tears. I won't.

You turned in Bucky’s arms so you could face him, taking care not to drop the card as you put your hands around his neck. Tears sprang to your eyes anyway when he smiled and nuzzled his nose against yours. Love was in the small things and he reminded you of that every day.

“I love you, too, Stud,” you whispered, watching his blue eyes soften at your words. “Thank you.”

He leaned in for a kiss, your heart aching from how tender it was. “I’m glad you liked it. Otherwise, I would've had to make you fall in love with me all over again.”

You giggled as he kissed the tip of your nose. “Bucky, we’re engaged. I’m very much in love with you,” you reminded him.

Always will be.

“Yeah, my ploy worked,” he smirked at you. “I got you to move in with me.”

“You had a cheap room and a nice cat,” you deadpanned. Both things were true, but they were bonuses compared to the amazing package of a man holding you.

“And I made you fall in love with me.”

Cocky, but true.

“It’s because you're adorable,” you said with a tilt of your head.

Yes, my beefy fiance is adorable and easy to love.

“I try to be,” he said, pressing another kiss to your lips. “Don't want some book boyfriend taking my place.”

“A book boyfriend wouldn't get me the best puzzle or cards,” you said, though you did enjoy how he acted the last time he got jealous of you reading a romance novel. “Or take a nap and cuddle with me.”

He trailed kisses over to your ear. “Or give you orgasms.”

How did he know I was thinking that?

“You are welcome to take me to bed then,” you said, still a bit surprised at yourself for not jumping on him over the sweet card. But you stopped him when he reached past you to open your door. “Bucky?”

“Yeah?”

“These ‘just because’ gestures? And every gift you’ve given me? They really mean so much to me,” you said, hoping he understood how much you appreciated them and him.

You still couldn't believe some days that he was real and in love with you.

He swallowed before he spoke in a quiet tone. “You deserve the entire world and I just wish I could give it to you.”

“You already have,” you promised, pulling him against you this time so you could kiss him.

Bucky had given you everything you could ever dream of by loving and believing in you. And you would get him the perfect gift as soon as you could. Something that said you were thinking of him. Something just because.

Because you loved him.

They bring me such comfort. Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[tinyidle]

anything you want - psh

made especially for @whatudowhennooneseesyou's birthday. happy birthday again, sorry i made it so late, and i hope you enjoy it as much as i enjoyed writing it! also, I hope you enjoyed watching coachella this weekend!

warning: smut, fluff, cunniligus, slight teasing, cumming in pants oop, implied aftercare, mommy!hwa, softdom!seonghwa, servicedom seonghwa, fem!reader, fiance!reader, sub reader, all fiction

"happy birthday, my star," seonghwa greeted you with a kiss to your cheek. it was actually nighttime, but with your and his schedule being hectic during the day, this was the first time he was able to physically wish you a proper birthday.

he did everything a good boyfriend should and more: he took you out to eat at your favorite spot, you both had a fun dancing session at the nearby club (nothing too crazy), and let you pick out what you wanted when you went out shopping later.

nine o'clock and he wanted to wrap up the day by letting you have him in any way you please. "anything i want, mommy?" you bit your lip with intrigue and slight hopefulness that he wasn't lying.

"anything, sweetie," he assured you. he laid you down and slowly took off the rest of the pieces of clothing you had. you both have been home for a bit, so you took off the heavier material, but your spaghetti strap top and undies were still on.

kissing your collarbone all across, he slowly pushed each strap down until the top of your chest was exposed. "fuck, you always look so pretty. so precious to me." he pulled down the top so that it was bunch to the middle of your stomach, him not bothering to pull it up or push it down any further.

reaching up to hold on to your boobs, he gently squeezed each one before continuing to speak. "tell mommy what you want, and i'll give it to you." seonghwa lightly trailed his hands on your sides, smiling when he saw you contemplate what you wanted your fiancé to do to you.

biting your lip, you whispered, "i want mommy touch my cunt."

"hmm?" seonghwa feigned naivety, kissing down to your inner thigh. "i cant hear you, sweetie."

your breath heaved more and more until you couldn't take the teasing to your pelvis anymore. "PLEASE MOMMY," you whined, much to seonghwa's enjoyment as he was now licking the skin of your folds, occasionally each one. "please touch my pussy."

he smiled once more before spreading your lips apart. "of course," he whispered, giving your clit a good suck. you gasped and unconsciously attempted to close your legs, them being forced open by your caring fiancé. "that's it. lose yourself for me, im all yours."

you bucked your hips in his face while seonghwa let you use him for your pleasure. one orgasm became two, and your legs were now constantly shaking as you begged him not to stop. sure, his jaw was now starting to ache, but his precious star wanted to be pleased like this, so he was going to give her what she deserved.

the final dam for your broke as you came once again on your fiancé's face. "ohh, hwa!" you cried out as you body stiffened and back arched. seonghwa groaned as he felt himself release in his pants from your own pleasure.

as you relaxed from your high, seonghwa quietly got up and went to get wipes, a warm cloth, and your pajamas for you. your eyelids were heavy, but you still managed to make grabby hands for your fiancé's touch.

with a small chuckle, seonghwa leaned down and gave you a loving peck. "happy birthday, my precious star."

i had three options for the drabble, and since i did a yunho fic already and plan on doing a hongjoong fic, as well as me never have done a mommy!hwa fic before, i wanted to do this so much. tagging @strayteezsimp

[espinosaurusrexex]

Forever, of course.

SteveRogers x Female!Reader

summary: Steve has a crush on you but your flirty character isn’t making things easy for him. Now he even has to marry you to please a 6-year-old superfan of his. Whether that’s a good plan or not, isn’t quite clear for Steve yet.

a/n: I think this will be the last AI-adaptive story but it was a lot of fun! Shoutout to @RandomTingsForFun on beta.character.ai for having created the character that helped me write this story (and the Bucky one).

Word count: 4k

warnings: a Stevie in love, an attempted funny reader, and a super excited 6-year-old (she carries the story tbh), this is really just super fluffy

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

Steve shook his head at the sight of your chat history. It wasn’t too long ago when he didn’t even know how to listen to music on the device he was holding in his hands, let alone write a text message in less than 30 seconds. Now, he was bickering with you, and he had to admit it was even a little fun to wait for a response from you. Of course, Steve didn’t do anything else in the time he waited for your reply. He just stared at the screen in his hand and willed his heartbeat to slow a little. 

*ping* Why would that be important? So? Maybe I have been talking to Sam about you. Have you been talking about me with Bucky?

Steve: No I haven’t! And it is important because if he’s badmouthing me, then you’d believe him. What has he told you anyway?

You: Just the usual. Save the world this, Captain America that. I stopped listening when he started obsessing over your shield again.

You: Wait. Did you seriously think Sam would say something bad about you? That guy is obsessed with you.

Steve just laughed at your antics. Sam loved the shield for some reason, but every time Steve would give it to him to ‘throw it one time’ Bucky would intervene and ‘show him how it’s done’. 

*ping* Anyway what I actually wanted to ask is if you’d come to my niece’s house with me this weekend. She’s a huge Avenger fan and I might have promised her to meet one as her birthday present 😬

Steve: Of course, I will! I would feel bad if you made such a promise and I wasn't able to make it. And I bet she'll know who her favorite Avenger is after a visit from The Cap 😉

You: ugh please don’t call yourself that. ever. 

You: I’ll pick you up Saturday at 1:30? 

Steve: Yeah, sounds good! I'll make sure to clear my schedule. How old is your niece by the way? And what’s her name?

You: You can call her Izzy. And she’s turning 6 this Thursday. Be nice. And make sure to talk me up a bit, will ya? I mean, I’m already her favorite aunt but just making sure...

Steve: How could she not love you? But I’ll do it anyway. I’ll talk you up so much you’ll never be able to escape my praise! What’s her favorite food?

You: weirdly enough it's carrots, that child is strange. Says vegetables make her a superhero or something. 

Steve: I mean she’s not wrong. Carrots are great for your eyes! What does she think of Iron Man? I need to know my chances against the competition.

You: I just asked her and she said she doesn’t care about Tony because you are her one true love. 

You: I told her that’s not possible because you are already mine. Now we’re in a big fight so thanks for that.

Steve: why would you say that?

You: I like to see her freak. Don’t worry about it, captain. It was just a joke 

You: ...or was it 👀

Steve: I don’t believe you. You’re lying.

He got a little nervous. But it was a good nervous.

You: why? Do you want me to? 

You: Am I making you nervooouuus?

Steve could practically see you wiggle your eyebrows with a grin. A silly idea flashed past his mind, and he felt like grabbing it.

Steve: You need to stop before I accidentally propose to you.

Nothing - just a second, though. Then:

*ping* you have a ring?

Steve: I can get one in less than an hour. Meet me at the chapel on main and I’m all yours. 

You: I’m stunned. I’ve taught you well. 

Steve: 😊 I’ll see you Saturday, doll. 

Steve sat back on his sofa. That girl is really something. A smile broke loose on his face at the silly thought of marrying you. Honestly, he wouldn’t mind if it happened. Out of all the people he knew, you were the only one he’d want to spend the rest of his life with. You were fun and you made him loosen up. He was a whole new man around you and he loved it. Because being in your presence was easy, and comforting. There was nothing to worry about.

He sighed before putting his phone down and staring at the ceiling. He couldn’t wait to see you again.

❁ ❁ ❁

Steve stepped out of the door and smiled upon spotting your car. You were already waving at him, a beautiful smile adorning your face and Steve felt his heart skip. Car rides with you were nice. You always had some soft music playing. Always making sure it was nothing too funky so he felt comfortable. Still, he was a little nervous. It wasn’t every day that he go to meet someone who looked up to him - well, actually, it was every day - but this one was different. Because it was your family and Steve needed to make a good expression. 

It wasn’t long before you pulled up to your sister's house. But before you could even reach the front door, a little girl jumped out of the door and ran toward you with wild screeches. 

“Auntieeee!!!! OH MY GOD, you really did it! You invited Captain America!” The girl jumped up and down beside you and Steve couldn’t help his smile from spreading. Izzy was adorable - very loud - but adorable. Concentrating on it made his nervousness subside a little.

Then she turned around and stared up at him with wide eyes. He could have sworn there were little stars sparkling in them when he crouched down to her height and extended his hand.

“Hey there, little lady. It’s so nice to meet you, I’m Steve.”

“I know that!” The 6-year-old giggled as Steve shook her hand. But when he was about to let go, her tiny fingers grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him up the driveway. “I want to show you something! It’s soooo cool!” 

Steve was still a little cautious as she dragged him to her room. His only experience with kids came from Sam’s nephews and prior he had only gotten to hold a couple baby’s for pictures. He didn’t know how to navigate the situation, but he decided he would just rock with it.

Your niece pushed the white door with her name brightly colored on a sign hanging on her eye level open and revealed a tornado aftermath of action figures. He was able to spot most of the avengers laying scattered around a dinosaur toy but the overwhelming red, white, and blue covering her room was undeniable. There was a poster of Steve hanging by the desk and a bunch of her own drawings framing the magazine shot. Izzy appeared next to Steve again, holding a small action figure of himself in her hands. 

“My aunt gave me this one. It’s my first one.” She reached up to Steve and barely passed his hip with her little arms. The figure was well loved - he could see it from here. And when he bent down to retrieve it, your niece pulled him down further and whispered a giggly ‘you’re our favorite avenger’ into his ear.

His heart swelled at the excitement presented in front of him. It was adorable, and he could see a little of you in the little girl nervously treading beside him. 

“I’m your favorite, huh?” He said, his voice full of affection. Steve usually wasn’t the kind of person to get mushy over an adorable child, but the way her face lit up was too cute. The little Cap figure in her hands was pretty cute, too. “My, my. I must be pretty special then.” His thumb stroked over the blue helmet in her hands.

Lost in thought and seriously flattered by being the hero that inspired this impressive collection, he almost didn’t notice how Izzy threw her hands in the air. “So special! My mom says I will marry someone as special as you one day, but my aunt says there is no one like you. That is so mean!” Her little chubby cheeks puffed with a pout and Steve had to hold back his laugh. The 6-year-old had no idea what you implied with that comment, but he still felt more pride from being called special by you and your niece than from any medal of honor he had ever gotten.

“Well, a girl your age shouldn’t worry about things like that. But who knows, maybe I will be part of your family one day.”

“Really?!” Wide eyes stared back at him and Steve could practically feel the floor vibrating when he nodded with a laugh. Izzy held out her finger and then she exclaimed a rushed ‘stay here’ before zooming past him and out the door.

Steve stayed a little longer and admired Izzy’s room before he heard an excited ‘Captain America said I can marry him!’ Which made him instantly rush to the source.

He spotted her clinging to her mother’s leg, giddy and jumpy. But your sister just shared a laugh with you over the kitchen counter. “I don’t think he meant it like that, buttercup.” Steve watched your sister explain before his eyes got stuck on the little frown on your face. Was that a hint of jealousy, he was detecting? “But if he marries your aunt, he will be your uncle and just as much part of the family.” A little fire hushed past your older sister’s face. It was a look of mischief he had seen you hold all too well. Steve’s cheeks heated when you caught him leaning in the doorway, scratching his neck at the slightly awkward situation. 

“That works?”

“That’s how it works, baby.”

Izzy turned with excitement and within a second she was before Steve again. “You have to ask my aunt to marry you! Right now!!” She ordered with a stomp of her foot. “Then you can be my uncle and we can hang out every day!”

Steve’s eyes wandered from the six-year-old to you and his heart picked up its pace at the laugh you shared with your sister. There was no harm in a little play pretend, right?

So, he knelt down in front of you and when your name traveled past his lips softly, he almost imagined a grasp coming from you. “Will you,” his head tilted with a wink, “marry me?”

You hid your laugh behind your hands as they covered your mouth in feigned astonishment. But Steve caught the little glimmer in your eyes at his little show. He continued to take your hand as he threw together a little speech for Izzy to hear, and when the child began excitedly jumping up and down beside him, your face softened. 

“Oh, Steve! This is so unexpected!” You clutched your chest and your sister chuckled beside you. Steve felt a tinge of nervousness wash over him then, but he would be okay with a fake rejection - he wasn’t sure if Izzy would, though. “Of course, I’ll marry you! Come here you big, hunky, handsome superhero!”

And as if he hadn’t been prepared for you to agree so quickly, Steve felt his cheeks heat up. He couldn’t deny that the words you described him with had his stomach tingle with excitement, and before he could help himself, he leaned forward and kissed our cheek.

“That was the easiest marriage proposal ever,” he mumbled beside you to which you just slightly pulled from his embrace. 

“What? You’ve done that before? Are you already cheating on me, Rogers?” You raised your brows suspiciously, but Steve was only able to shake his head with a smile before Izzy blared into his ear again. 

“A wedding! A wedding!” She swirled by him like a tornado, immediately collecting things around the house. “Mom, get all the stuffies, ready! We have to do a wedding!!!” And then she was off to prepare the quickest wedding in history. 

Steve shook his head as his arm remained around your waist. “What did I get myself into?” He mumbled to himself before turning to you. “Do I dare ask what a six-year-old’s idea of an official marriage ceremony looks like?”

“I think Paddington Bear will be your best man and if I’m lucky, my sister gets to be my maid of honor, but who knows.” You shrugged with a laugh that warmed Steve’s heart all over again. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Not even ten minutes later, Steve found himself kneeling beside a makeshift altar with a bunch of toys and stuffed animals as wedding guests. Action figure Cap had made best man and was neatly propped up behind him. Your sister had officially been crowned the ‘disco machine’ along with a lengthy speech on how important the right song was for the bride’s entrance. Steve had fought hard to keep his face steady, but when Izzy had suggested ‘Party Rock Anthem’, he’d lost it. When really, he was just proud, he knew the song because you had shown it to him the other week - it was Izzy’s favorite. 

You had been instructed to wait behind the couch until the music started to play, and Steve felt himself get a little nervous. It was silly, but somehow his desire to have this wedding according to your niece’s wishes was a lot more important to him than he had initially thought. 

“Now what do we do?” He asked as he leaned over to Izzy, but that was when the girl gave her mother the ‘sign’ - which was the chicken dance, of course - and his eyes immediately swerved to you. He could see the amusement in your gaze as you bit back a laugh.

Izzy wasn’t wasting any time, as soon as you had reached the altar, she put your’s and Steve’s hands together and immediately began talking. Steve had had barely any time to wipe the sweat from his clammy fingers before they connected with yours, but you didn’t seem to care. He smiled as he watched you listen to your niece’s little speech.

“We are gathered here today, to make Captain America my uncle,” she started, and both you and he struggled to keep it together. It was cute though, and something about becoming this little girl’s uncle excited Steve like nothing had in a long time. “Mr, Captain America, will you take my aunt as your wife?”

Izzy’s eyes were serious as she waited for Steve’s answer. And when he didn’t do so fast enough, she leaned over and whispered the answer to him.

“I will,” Steve chuckled and gave your hands a small squeeze.

Then Izzy’s eyes wandered to you. “Do I even have to ask?” She said with her adorably high voice and everyone started laughing. 

“Yes, I will take Steve as my husband,” you answered with the same squeeze of your hand as Izzy imitated the audience cheering.

“You are now husband and wife. Now, kiss, kiss, kiss!!!” It was a little awkward, but Steve leaned in, anyway, to press a gentle kiss to your cheek. He looked at you again and the spark in your eyes was a little brighter as that smile lit up your face again. You looked beautiful, Steve thought, and his heart jumped in his chest at the realization.

“Wohooooooo!” Your sister cheered loudly and ripped Steve out of his trance.

“This is so awesome! You have to come to every family dinner and we can be best friends forever!!” Izzy must have eaten a bag of gummy worms with the way she was vibrating to the song coming out of the little pink CD player. Steve was sure he’d never seen such a hyper six-year-old before. 

“Every family dinner?” He asked her as Izzy swayed his hands to the music. When his eyes caught yours, you just shrugged. "Forever?"

"Of course!" Izzy exclaimed as Steve spun her around. His eyes stayed locked on you, however. Forever didn't sound so bad...

“Looks like you’re stuck with me.” You laughed, but Steve didn’t mind that in the slightest.

❁ ❁ ❁

The evening had come sooner than anyone had anticipated. Steve had been so occupied with Izzy all day, he had forgotten all about the time. It didn’t bother him too much, though. He had fun, but exhausting as well. And now that he was finally sitting in your car again, his head leaning against the headrest and enjoying the silence for a moment, he felt how much energy it had really cost him. He would do it again, though - especially if it meant marrying you over and over for eternity. 

His eyes opened when you sighed beside him. You hadn’t so much as bothered to start the car just yet, and Steve was kind of happy about that. 

You smiled at him when his head turned to you, still leaning back with a dreamy smile himself. “Who would have thought that we would get married today?” You chuckled with a shake of your head. “And you didn’t even give me a ring. I should reconsider my standards.”

“A ring, you say? Well, you are married to the greatest superhero in the world - according to your niece - so I think we’re going to need something pretty special...” Steve joked as he turned in his seat to look through the car, and when he spotted the right thing, the smile returned got his face. “Should I do the honors?”

And then he took the lid off his water bottle and popped the plastic ring off to place it on your finger. 

“It’s perfect, blue like your eyes,” you laughed watching the big plastic ring hang from your finger. “I’m gonna have to get that resized, though. You must think I’m fat.” You shook your head. “Wow, not even a day in, and I already have things to tell my therapist about.” But the mischievous glimmer in your eyes told Steve that you were only joking. 

“Do I really need to say it, doll?” He took your hand in his before spinning the plastic piece. “You’re the most beautiful woman in the world,” He whispered, secretly meaning every word.

You laughed it off but Steve didn’t miss the stutter in your smile at his words. It made the butterflies in his stomach go wild. 

“So what should our first act as a fake married couple be? Celebratory drinks at the Stark Tower rooftop bar?”

"Stark Tower... that sounds good to me.”

The engine roared to life and soon, the faint music was playing in your car again, the streetlights passed him by and the full moon shone above the New York City skyline. But Steve didn't care, he had more beautiful things to look at. 

❁ ❁ ❁

“You’re what now? Married?! And I wasn’t invited?!” Sam’s shocked face yelled across the bar, making few agents turn their heads with intrigue. 

You chuckled before leaning your head against Steve’s shoulder. The second Martini seemed to already work its wonders on you, but Steve loved how close you were. 

“Married by a six-year-old. Count that as you will, but I have a ring on my finger and I’m not telling you how much it cost.” You stretched your hand over the counter to show off the blue piece of plastic and Natasha just laughed at the cute story.

“So, how is the newlywed life?” She leaned on her hands to play along while Sam still tried to get over his non-invitation to a fake wedding. “You guys talking about kids yet?”

That startled Steve a little but he tried his best to keep a straight face - he failed. The thought of having a family with you did things to him he couldn’t explain if he wanted to. The warmth in his stomach spread to his heart and his arm almost instinctively came up to press you further into his side. 

“Who knows, I wouldn’t mind a couple mini me’s.” He shrugged with a low smile. He loved this little game more and more. It just got harder and harder to remind himself that it was just that - a game.

“Hold your horses, now. You’re not the one squeezing them out of your body, Mr. Rogers.” You patted his chest and sighed theatrically. “I can already see that I will be home alone with a bunch of kids and you’re working late every night. Our life will fall apart!” Your hand brushed over your forehead as your head fell back like that of a damsel in distress. 

The group laughed at the little performance, but Steve was a little quieter now. Somehow, he couldn’t rid himself of the feeling that he needed to tell you how much he really cared. He’d never let your life fall apart - not when he was able to prevent it. And while he sat there with his friends, laughing about something as ridiculous as Captain America settling down, he contemplated in silence, if all this life had really been worth it when he would end up alone in the end - giving up the dream of an easy life he’s had for a century. 

❁ ❁ ❁

It was about 12am when Steve and you stopped before your door in the hallway. His eyes were glued to you, his mind racing with scenarios this could go. He had decided to tell you about his feelings about two hours ago, and ever since, he had tried to come up with the best thing to say. But even though talking to you was the easiest thing he’d ever done, and even though you were already married - fake married - he didn’t have a single idea. Not one word that seemed fitting enough to describe the exciting fireworks in his chest whenever he saw you, to somehow tell you how bad living without you would be. 

He must have been staring for a while because you began to shift from one foot to the other before finally clearing your throat to kill the silence. 

“So... uh... that was an eventful day...” You started, fists nervously opening and closing beside your body. “Thank you for playing pretend. You made a little girl very happy.” You smiled and Steve’s heart skipped another beat. 

He caught the small shimmer in your eyes just in time to give him confidence. Your body kept moving forward as if you willed it back again and again, and Steve gathered all his bravery to open his mouth.

“You know what,” Your name tumbled over his lips like a song he’d sung a thousand times. But the effect it had on you still excited him every time anew. “Today... it’s not going to be pretend.”

And before you could even react to his weirdly vague statement, Steve leaned forward and pressed his lips to yours. Full of love and affection, his hands moved on their own - one to your hip and the other onto the wall behind you. There was a moment of panic settling in Steve’s brain, but then your arms came up to sling around his torso and he leaned further into your touch. You pulled him even closer, your lips melting with his, tongues gently stroking soft skin until air got scarce. His whole body felt electric with you so close to him - finally. And when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours, eyes still closed and thoughts swimming in the moment you had just granted him. 

“I... I love you.” He whispered against your skin, and he felt his warm breath bouncing back. Your chest was still rising and falling beneath him, a subtle reminder of how breathtaking all this was - Steve couldn’t get enough of it, of you.

Your hand came up to stroke over his cheek, making him open his eyes to find you already looking at him. 

“I love you, too, Steve.” You bit your lips, and it made Steve just press his mouth to yours once more.

Wanna be added to the taglist?

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a/n: I have to say I was pretty impressed at how much it adapted to my writing and I really liked the last part, so I put it in here. I hope you enjoyed it :)

[buzzcutlip]

Cracks and Gaps - The Waterfall (part II) Carmen Berzatto x Fem!Reader Mature (Explicit in the following parts) 6573 words

You meet Carmen in Copenhagen through a mutual friend and bond over shared experiences. After following his rising career from afar, you reconnect in Chicago when he renovates his late brother’s restaurant. As an editor, you can’t miss an opportunity to find out more about the comeback of this chef prodigy. part I The Worst Day

A/N: The angst continues and morphs. This part is full of fashion, understanding and soft words. Thank you Amy @foreveraimingtowardsthesky and E @butchcarmy for giving me the confidence to write and to publish this :) (Also reader is reffered to as someone who blushes, in case you would like to know this ahead of deciding to read the story)

THE WATERFALL

You want so badly to forget the fight, but instead, you keep replaying it in your head over and over, until it feels like a movie you saw on TV or in a cinema. Like it wasn't really you Carmen was shouting at. You try to comfort yourself by imagining what you should have done in that moment—anything but nothing, like you actually did. But at least you stood up for yourself. That’s somehow comforting.

The way forward is to go—to leave. To remove yourself from the situation and find a new environment that has nothing to do with what happened. For the weekend, you take a long-postponed trip to Seattle. People envy you for traveling to fancy places for work, but to you, it’s just that—work. This time, though, you’re unusually eager to get on the plane to another state. Nothing in Washington is going to remind you of Carmen Berzatto, you hope. The plan is to try a luxury wellness retreat for women in tech and business at Salish Lodge by Snoqualmie Falls. You’re not in tech or business, but the place paid the magazine to review the program, so you couldn’t really say no. There’s a "pillow menu for the best night’s rest" and a "Canna-bliss CBD natural ritual" option, so you’re not complaining. To escape the busy networking event on Saturday, you sneak out and walk to the top of the falls, take a deep inhale—just as you practiced during that morning's yoga class—and shout into the void, letting the roar of the water swallow it all. 

There’s so much pent-up energy in you that you start to worry you’re scaring all the Zen businesswomen around you. During a workshop, you realize that most of them are your age, or even younger. They have careers, partners, and some even have kids. It sucks, being reminded of what society expects from you when you’re thirty.

When you get back on Tuesday, the office clerk tells you that someone was looking for you on Monday. Not thinking much of it, you sit down at your desk to start working on your piece about the trip. It’s scorching outside—concrete city in July is unforgiving—and you’re grateful for the office's functioning AC.

The next time you check the clock, it’s already noon. You stand up to stretch and grab the empty mug on your desk. It was a silly gift from your parents when you first got this job—white with a black handle and a funny picture of a green pickle with a face that says "It’s kinda a big dill." As foolish as it sounds, drinking coffee from this mug always makes you smile.

As soon as you step out of your office, Dasha, the desk clerk, waves you over. Even sitting, she’s tall, her head and upper body towering proudly over the counter. She always wears amazing glasses.

“I love your glasses,” you say, complimenting her tortoiseshell frames.

“Thanks,” Dasha smiles. “You have a visitor. I was just about to call your desk.”

The blood in your veins seems to stop. You turn your head toward the guest sofa by the elevators. There’s no doubt who the visitor is.

“He said his name was Caramel—Carmel? Sorry!” Dasha fumbles with the name, blushing and nervously fiddling with her pen. “I should’ve written it down!”

Of course, it’s Carmen.

“You’re fine,” you assure her with a quick smile. Taking a very, very deep breath, you ask sweetly, “Could you send Caramel to meeting room three?”

‘I’m so Zen,’ you tell yourself as you walk to the kitchen, giving Dasha and Carmen a few minutes. If you’re going to meet him, it’s going to be on your terms, you decide standing by the fridge. Or, hiding by the fridge?

Wearing a summery yet elegant dress, heeled clogs, and your hair up, you look nothing like you ever did at The Bear. You’re pleased to discover, just before opening the door to meeting room three, that the tight feeling in your stomach isn’t just nerves—it’s also a bit of excitement and confidence.

The frosted glass door closes behind you, and you watch as Carmen’s eyes land on you. He’s already seated in one of the uncomfortable white plastic chairs, and now he’s looking at you. His gaze drops to your legs, where the frilled hem of your dress stops just above your knees, then to the mug you’re still holding, though it’s empty.

“Hey,” he greets you, shifting as if he might stand up. You sit across from him, setting the mug on the table.

“Hi,” you reply, curious about what he’s going to say. You’re fairly sure he’s here to apologize, probably sent by Natalie and Sydney—maybe even Richie—to make things right. You had texted Natalie to say you needed to focus on your "real" job as an excuse to avoid going back to the restaurant. Now, you wish you had told her the truth.

“I brought you something,” Carmen says, awkwardly pulling out a paper bag. “Thought you might be hungry.” He hesitates, then adds, “It’s smoked mozzarella mezzelune.” When you don’t make a move to take it, he places the bag back in his lap.

Leaning back in your chair, you fight the urge to cross your arms. You probably feel as out of place as he does right now—but you’re not about to let him see that.

“We didn’t have to meet here,” he says, glancing nervously around the room. “I just wanted to bring the food.”

You blink a few times, wanting to make him even more uncomfortable. “You could’ve left it at reception,” you say calmly.

Carmen rubs a hand over his face and purses his lips. “About before—the recipe. It was all bullshit.”

You grimace. That doesn’t sound like an apology. You're starting to lose faith that Carmen is even capable of one. Disappointed and at a loss for words, you scoff, and Carmen’s eyes dart back to yours. He looks almost offended, which really pisses you off.

“Bullshit,” you repeat, your voice steady. “I’m not interested in this, Carmen,” you say, meeting his gaze without wavering. “Go to hell with your food.”

He looks down, fidgeting with the paper bag. “I’m terrible at this.”

“Terrible at what? Apologizing? Well, it’s past time you learned.”

The urge to shout at him is strong. You want him to feel as humiliated as you did. But you won’t. He spent his whole life in an environment where people yelled for different reasons—or no reason at all. That’s not your style.

Not expecting anything else from him, you push your chair back, the screeching noise cutting through the tense moment, sending a shiver down your spine.

When Carmen suddenly stands as well, his chair scraping even louder, your heart jumps. You gasp, nearly sick from the fright.

“I—I also came to tell you that I’ll do it,” he stammers. “I’ll do the interview.”

You study him for a moment. Is he serious?

“This isn’t what I want, Carmen,” you say, shaking your head and rubbing your wrist. “Why now?”

“I talked to Syd and the crew. It’s the right thing to do. Right for the restaurant.”

He’s sincere, as far as you can tell. His eyes look huge, and that tortured artist look is back. A martyr. How much does he enjoy playing that role?

“Please, don’t ruin my Zen,” you say quietly, not wanting to return to how you felt a few days ago.

“I’m not interested anymore,” you add, praying Rob won’t find out and fire you. “Dasha will see you out. Or you can take the elevator.” The condescension in your voice is clear, but you’re not sure if Carmen even notices.

—

For the next two days, you decide to work from home and mope. Calling Becky isn’t an option because she would probably go talk to Natalie and tell her everything. The feelings of anger and humiliation are mixing within you, and you don’t know which one makes you more miserable.

When you get back to work, Rob calls you over to his office. Shit, you think.

You walk in with a smile and confidence—fake it till you make it. The usual clutter of papers and magazines is still there, but Rob himself seems unusually animated, almost buzzing with excitement. He waves you in, barely able to contain a grin. “Take a seat,” he says, his tone a little too eager.

You sit down cautiously, trying to gauge what's coming. Rob leans forward, resting his elbows on his desk, and you can see he’s practically bursting to share something. “So, I got a call this morning,” he starts, and you immediately feel a sense of dread creeping in. “It was from Natalie, the manager over at The Bear.”

Your heart skips a beat, but you force yourself to stay composed. You nod, prompting him to continue. “She told me that Carmen Berzatto—yes, that Carmen—wants to do the interview and a photoshoot,” Rob says.

“A—a photoshoot?” you stammer. “Is this the same Carmen Berzatto?” God, you couldn’t imagine Carmen wanting to be a center of attention like that. He would probably die right on the spot.

Rob ignores your snarky remark—as he often does—leaning even closer, his excitement palpable. “And get this—he specifically requested that you be the one to do it.”

He pauses, waiting for your reaction, clearly expecting you to share in his enthusiasm. But all you feel is a mix of shock and apprehension. “Rob, I—” you start, but he cuts you off, too caught up in the moment.

“I mean, this is huge!” he exclaims, practically bouncing in his chair. “The Bear is blowing up, and an exclusive like this could improve all the important numbers for us. And he wants you—he’s insisting on it! Do you have any idea how big this could be for your career?”

You do, of course. An exclusive interview with Carmen could put you on the map in a major way. But all you can think about is that last encounter in the meeting room, the awkwardness, the unresolved tension, and the anger laced in bitterness you thought you had finally let go of. Rob notices your hesitation and softens his tone, though his excitement is still simmering beneath the surface. “Look, I know there’s some history here,” he says, a bit more gently. “But this is a massive opportunity. And honestly, if Carmen wants you specifically, there’s something there. He’s not the type to just pick someone randomly, right?”

You shake your head and swallow hard, your mind racing. The offer is tempting, the kind of opportunity that doesn’t come around often. But it also means facing Carmen again, reopening wounds you thought were starting to heal but ignoring the issue—the healthy way, you think bitterly. But also, you would need to contact Nat and Sydney again about your place in The Bear, which you’ve been putting on hold for a long time now, in internet terms.

Rob senses your inner turmoil and leans back, giving you some space. “I’m not going to pressure you, but I really think you should consider it. We could make this the cover story. It’s that big.”

The room is silent for a moment as Rob waits for your response, his eagerness practically vibrating off him. You’re absolutely sure that if you don’t agree to this project, Rob will ask another editor, or even hire a freelancer. As much as you want to be offended a bit longer, letting it simmer inside you, you also want to do this with The Bear staff. As Natalie must know—this is all her doing, after all, you suppose—the visibility for the restaurant is going to be huge.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves. Then, you make your decision. “I’ll do it,” you say, your voice firmer than you expected.

Rob’s face lights up instantly. “That’s what I’m talking about!” he exclaims, practically beaming. “I knew you’d come through. This is going to be incredible, I can feel it.”

His enthusiasm reassures you, and for a brief moment, you let yourself feel excited, too.

Rob starts rattling off details, already planning how to make this the magazine’s biggest feature yet. “We’ll do a full spread—interview, photoshoot, the works. We can even tie it into some of the broader trends in the culinary world. This could be huge!”

You nod, letting his words wash over you, but part of your mind is still focused on the impending meeting with Carmen. You pretty much sent him to hell. How will you handle this?

“Let’s get the ball rolling,” Rob says, snapping you back to the present. “I’ll coordinate with Natalie to set up the interview. We’ll get the photographer involved, and I’ll make sure you have everything you need.”

“Thanks, Rob,” you say, managing a small smile, not mentioning that you will get in touch with Natalie too. “I’ll make sure it’s worth the hype.”

“I have no doubt,” Rob replies confidently. “This is going to be something special.”

As you walk out of his office, the reality of what you just agreed to starts to settle in. You’re going to see Carmen again, face to face, in a setting that’s as personal as it is professional. It’s also a chance to prove to yourself that you can handle it—and maybe even come out stronger on the other side.

The nerves are still there, but so is a newfound resolve. This is your story to tell, and you’re ready to own it.

---

Naturally, you had to tone down your emotions in Rob’s office, as he didn’t know anything about your work you had done for The Bear or the situation with the chef himself. The need to show off your professional skills, both to Rob and Carmen, won. Natalie nearly pisses herself—her words, not yours!—when you confirm the news over the phone. She shares with you that it actually was Carmen’s idea to do the interview, supported by Sydney and Richie and Tina and everyone. The shoot not so much, but he’s gonna do it too, she says, and you can hear the mischievous smile in her voice.

The photoshoot is set to happen in a studio your magazine usually uses for smaller productions, as it’s only Carmen you need to get. Rob informed you that he had sent a photographer to The Bear earlier, so the photos from the place, as well as photos of the team, are already done. You know this from Natalie and Sydney already, who thanked you probably more than a million times for “arranging this,” but in front of Rob, you play guileless.

It’s awfully quiet in the room when you enter, the swinging door swooshing quietly behind you. No wonder. The shoot had to be planned on Sunday—the only day Carmen’s not at work, which has been met with not very enthusiastic responses. There’s no music playing, which is very unusual.

The studio has high ceilings and large windows that let in natural light. It obviously used to be a factory, now rebuilt into a fancy, modern building with that historic edge. You’ve been here a couple of times before.

You spot the photographer, Elena, adjusting her equipment with the precision of someone who knows exactly what she’s doing. She smiles at you and you give each other a quick hug. With a shoot this small, there’s no one doing production, as you’re using the magazine’s regular talents. As much as you want to stall, you know that Carmen must be sitting on the make-up chair, very probably freaking out. It’s a bit unpleasant, but the fact that he’s more uncomfortable than you here makes you feel better, helps you calm your nerves down. The situation is similar to the one in the office a few weeks back, and you realize it’s more your confidence than maliciousness.

Your steps echo as you walk around the corner to the make-up and hair spot by one of the big windows. Carmen’s just getting up from the high chair, his posture screaming uneasiness.

“Hi Margot,” you say to the make-up artist with a piercing in her eyebrow. She’s younger than you, so you get why she thinks that the 00’s are so cool, since that’s probably when she was born.

Then the spotlight is on Carmen and you, and it takes you both to the moment when you approached him outside of The Bear months ago.

Carmen stares at you without blinking, probably relieved to see a familiar face, and also terrified, because it’s you. It’s crystal clear he doesn’t know what is appropriate for him to do in this setting.

Deciding quickly, you move towards him, giving him a similar hug as to Elena—quick, light, and impersonal. When you feel his palm press against your lower back fleetingly, the touch immediately makes you shiver, unfortunately not completely in a bad way, but you don’t have the time to ponder.

“I’ve just fixed his hair a bit and covered some bits here and there,” Margot explains, already cleaning her brushes. You notice immediately that Carmen’s curls are more defined and softer looking. He also appears less tired, but that’s surely due to Margo’s concealer magic.

“Thank you, Margo, that’s perfect,” you say as Carmen stands unmoving.

“Carmen just needs to moisturize more,” she adds cheekily, giving Carmen a wink over her shoulder.

You suppress a laugh. You’re absolutely sure Carmen has no idea what moisturizing or face cream means. He’s as lost here as you had been in the Bear's kitchen.

“Uhm—” Carmen makes an unsure noise, his hand reaching up to his hair, but Margo interrupts him:

“No touching!” she says hurriedly. “Not until the end of the shoot.”

You laugh for real now.

“How is it looking, guys?” Elena calls from the other side of the studio, checking on you.

“We’re fine. Carmen’s about to get changed, so you can get ready, El.”

You turn back to Carmen, who’s checking the studio with a mix of hesitance and curiosity. He’s dressed in light blue denim—unusual—and a gray jumper you’ve seen on him before.

“I’ll help,” you assure him. As the stylist is absent, you promised Rob that you would give a hand on the shoot. Besides, some selected garments are meant to be ready, plus you know they had asked Carmen to bring some of his stuff. “Follow me.”

Disappearing behind a screen that creates a changing space with clothes and steamers, you come properly face to face.

“Hey,” you say, unable to think of anything better. Your voice remains steady despite the slight flutter in your chest.

“Hey,” he replies, offering a small, almost uncertain smile. He glances around, taking in the unfamiliar setting. “This is… different.”

“Yeah,” you agree, gesturing to the setup around you. “But it’s all about making you look good.”

Carmen chuckles softly, the tension in his shoulders easing just a little. “No pressure, right?”

You smile, unable to play the Ice Queen anymore, and for a moment, the awkwardness between you dissipates. “Let’s get started.”

Carmen glances at you, seemingly reassured by your calm demeanor, even if he’s out of his element. You walk over to the clothes neatly hung on a rack. Immediately, you spot the cool embroidered Bode jackets, simple Carhartt pieces, more tailored Ami Paris clothes. There’s Maharishi and PAM too, probably included by the stylist based on your comment that Carmen likes the workwear style, though they are a bit too colorful.

You tell Carmen a little about every brand, trying to get him out of his head and focus on something else. To give him a taste of the world of magazines, media, and fashion. Similar to what he had done for you in the restaurant—when he was in a mood to talk about his dishes, ideas about combining ingredients, and crafting new flavors.

“What about this?” you suggest, handing him a soft, tan brown Carhartt WIP suede jacket. You know that Carmy knows Carhartt because you’ve seen him in their clothes, and you also know that he’s a big denim head. This garment will also help him not to feel as exposed in front of the camera at the start.

Carmen takes the jacket, his brow furrowing slightly as if he’s analyzing every stitch. He slips it on, and you can’t help but note how well it fits him. Natalie nailed the sizes of his clothes perfectly.

You go wait for him at the spot that Elena has set up, Margo already waiting there too, in case any adjustments to the hair are needed during the shoot. When Carmen finally walks over, Elena gives him a reassuring nod as he takes his place in front of the camera, hands in the jacket’s pockets. You watch from the sidelines, a little amused but mostly impressed at how the whole scene has come together. The large windows bathe the room in soft, natural light, casting shadows that play off the industrial vibe of the studio.

Carmen is nervous—anyone can see that—but he stands tall, doing his best to follow Elena’s quiet directions. You watch the laptop screen from the corner of your eye, where all photos appear after Elena presses the shutter, frame after frame. Carmen’s unease is apparent, and for a second you wonder if this really was such a good idea after all.

After another five painful minutes, it’s clear that it’s not getting better. You share a quick look with Elena and say, “Could you put some music on, girls?” Then, turning to Carmen, you add, “I think we can change the outfit now,” you say easily.

You go back to the styling corner, Carmen following you. When you’re both hidden again, you glance at Carmen whose whole body is stiff, discomfort oozing off him.

“This is really not so bad,” you start, but Carmen shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, messing it up in a way that would drive Margo mad if she saw it.

“I’m a chef, not… this,” he says, gesturing to the setting. “I’m not supposed to be in front of cameras, doing interviews, pretending like—like I fucking know what I’m doing. This is all bullshit.”

You take a deep breath, trying to figure out how to reach him. You’ve seen him under pressure before, but this is different. This isn’t about the restaurant; this is about him feeling out of place, exposed.

“Carmen, you’re right. You’re a chef, and a damn good one,” you say, keeping your tone calm and reassuring. It’s strange to be this way for a person who you’ve only ever seen confident and sure, except for what happened in the office two weeks ago.

“But this is part of it, too,” you carry on, trying to catch Carmen’s eye. “People want to know the person behind the food. They want to see the passion, the creativity. Even the struggle. That’s what makes the Bear special—it’s you.”

He looks at you, eyes filled with doubt. “But what if… what if they see through it? What if they realize I’m just faking it?”

You step closer, close enough to reach out, but you don’t. Instead, you offer him a small, genuine smile. “Then they’ll see that you’re human, just like the rest of us. And that’s okay. You don’t have to be perfect, Carmen.”

He closes his eyes, exhaling slowly, trying to steady himself. “I don’t know if I can be that guy.”

“You don’t have to be anyone but yourself,” you reply gently. “And if you’re not feeling it, we can stop. We don’t have to do this. We could just use the pictures from the Bear.”

Carmen opens his eyes and looks at you, something shifting in his expression. It’s still a mix of fear and doubt, but there’s also a flicker of determination. “You really think I can do this?”

“Absolutely,” you confirm with deadly certainty.

The next moment, “1972” by The Smashing Pumpkins starts playing from the speakers in the studio.

Carmen surprises you by taking the initiative and choosing the clothes by himself. You turn when he starts shedding the jacket. Instead, you hang it back on the rack, needing something to do. When the rustling stops, you face the chef again. He’s wearing a pair of vintage Levi’s and a striped sailor crew neck. He looks good in the dark colors.

“Yeah?” he checks, trying to gauge your reaction.

“Yeah,” you nod, hoping it’s not obvious how much you like what you’re seeing. “Yeah.”

Gathering your courage, you reach to roll the sleeves up, exposing Carmen’s forearms, then move up to straighten the seams on his shoulders. You catch his gaze and this time, there’s a flicker of something—perhaps gratitude, or just recognition that you’re both navigating unfamiliar territory. Not just here, on the set, but also between you. You’re discovering another layer of your relationship, perhaps sensing that at this moment, you have the upper hand.

Carmen's expression softens from that tight apprehension to something more open, more trusting. “Thanks,” he says quietly, then looks down at himself, as if trying to imagine how he’ll appear in front of the camera now.

You step back slightly, giving him space, but also giving yourself a moment to collect your thoughts. The tension between you feels different than before, less about awkwardness and more like a mutual acknowledgment that neither of you has the playbook for this. And yet, you’re figuring it out together.

“Here,” you point Carmen to a big mirror in the corner, and he checks the reflection.

“I think I like it,” he says after a moment, and you give him a thumbs up, the silly gesture completely honest.

Back on set, with the music playing, the atmosphere lightens. Carmen doesn’t smile, but there’s a shift in the way he carries himself. He seems more settled in his skin, the dark colors enhancing his quiet confidence. Elena notices the difference immediately; she barely needs to give direction this time. He’s still far from relaxed, but there’s an authenticity in the way he stands, his gaze steady.

The photos start to reflect that subtle transformation, and you feel a tremendous sense of relief as you watch them pop up on the screen. Watching him, you feel an odd sense of pride. This isn’t just about Carmen being in front of the camera; it’s about him facing something that makes him uncomfortable and pushing through it, allowing himself to be vulnerable in this position. If you’re completely honest, you’re surprised that he’s willing to go through with this.

Elena seems pleased, giving Carmen a reassuring nod after every few clicks of the camera. When she finally steps back and lowers her lens, you see Carmen visibly exhale, tension easing from his frame.

“That was good,” Elena praises, glancing at the screen. “We’ve got some solid shots here.”

Carmen looks over, seemingly a little surprised, like he wasn’t quite sure it had gone as well as she said. “See?” you say, nudging him gently. “You nailed it.”

Carmen gives you a small, genuine smile this time. “Maybe,” he says, scratching the back of his head, messing up his styled hair.

After the third outfit change, Rob shows up, as planned, alongside the magazine’s publisher. As this had been arranged before the shoot, you hope it doesn’t throw Carmen off balance too much.

Luckily, Carmen slips into his professional chef mode as Rob greets him, calling him “Chef,” and thanking him sincerely for the opportunity. Rob shoots you a happy grin over Carmen’s shoulder. 

The final outfit is dark gray tailored wool pants and a simple white tee, similar to what you know as Carmen’s daily uniform—probably why he chose it. You suggest adding a nice leather belt with a silver clasp to complete the look. Elena positions Carmen on a high stool this time, changing angles and perspectives.

For the first time today, Carmen looks truly at ease, despite the additional onlookers. You know Rob is looking for the perfect shot for next month’s cover.

Elena captures a few more shots before lowering her camera. “That’s it! We’re done,” she announces, a smile of satisfaction on her face. “Carmen, you did amazing.”

Carmen slides off the stool, his shoulders visibly relaxing as the weight of the shoot lifts. He looks over at you, a small, almost sheepish grin playing at his lips. “That wasn’t as bad as I thought.”

You laugh softly, walking over to him. “Told you. You nailed it.”

Rob joins you and Carmen. “Chef, you were great today,” he says, clapping Carmen on the shoulder. “Can’t wait to see the final shots.”

Carmen nods, clearly more comfortable now that the shoot is over. “Thanks, Rob. I appreciate it.”

Rob turns to you with a grin. “You too. Thanks for making this happen.”

You nod, feeling a bit of pride at how smoothly things turned out. You’re careful not to jinx it—after all, the interview is still looming in the second half of the day, after you’ve had something to eat.

For the interview, you and Carmen sit down in a corner of the studio that’s been set up to look more intimate—two chairs facing each other with a small table in between. Your notebook rests on your lap. Elena is supposed to take a few shots of the formal interview, and now it’s your turn to be nervous. Very nervous.

You did an extensive amount of research and preparation for the article, keeping in mind your personal history with Carmen. He’s not just another personality you’re interviewing. He’s a guy you once knew. A chef at whose restaurant you had worked, or volunteered. These facts leave you feeling like you’re balancing on a thin rope, and you’ve spent a lot of time thinking about how to approach the interview. In the end, you decide to let Carmen set the tone. He could keep it personal or strictly professional.

“How did you enjoy the shoot?” you ask with a mischievous smile, starting off lightly. You don’t need to check your notes for that.

Carmen smiles, rubbing his lips with his fingers. “It was a new, interesting experience. I’m afraid I wasn’t very good, but I hope you’ll be able to find a couple of decent images.”

“And one excellent for the cover,” you add, careful not to interrupt him.

Out of habit and nervousness, you adjust the recorder on the table between you, making sure it’s on. Then you glance at your notes.

“When we met in Copenhagen ten years ago, you were staging at Noma. How do you look back on those times—when you were at the beginning of your journey but already experiencing the kitchens of the world’s best restaurants?”

It takes a moment before Carmen responds. “I was very young and very lucky. I took every opportunity that came my way, worked hard—harder than most—to learn and grow, and hopefully to stand out.” Carmen’s words are measured, careful. “Noma was my first experience outside the US, and it was intimidating. But also—it’s an incredibly peaceful and inspiring place. I loved every moment there. It also helped that I knew someone familiar in Copenhagen. That definitely made me feel less alone.”

You catch yourself staring, a warm feeling spreading through your chest—liquid heat filling every corner. You imagine this is what drinking Felix Felicis must feel like. You smile, and Carmen returns it with a quick smile of his own.

Clearing your throat, you prepare for the real questions, the ones that have to live up to everyone’s expectations—Rob’s, Carmen’s, and mostly your own. As the interview progresses, you feel a shift in the atmosphere. The initial tension has faded, replaced by a sense of collaboration. You’re both here for the same reason: to tell a story that matters.

You ask Carmen about his journey in the culinary world, the chefs he’s worked with, and the chefs he looks up to. You discuss diligence, innovation, and respect. You briefly touch on the topic of Michael and Carmen’s family, letting him decide how much he wants to share.

“You can be more or less fortunate with the starting position you get in life. That’s out of your hands. But the rest is in your hands. There’s no point in thinking about how others might have it easier—it will only paralyze you, trust me. You have to focus on what you can do, what you can change. Take the little you have and turn it into everything you have. Be proud of it. Stand up for yourself. Value yourself, but also others.”

His words are thoughtful, and you can tell he’s reflecting deeply.

There’s a pause, and you realize he’s waiting for your next question. You nod, acknowledging the weight of his words. Carmen answered everything with a mix of humility and passion, offering you—and the audience—glimpses of the person behind the chef: the struggles, the doubts, the relentless drive to succeed.

You glance at your notes, then back at him.

“That’s it. Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to share a glimpse of your life and The Bear’s story with Taste readers,” you say, finishing with a cheeky smirk, hoping Carmen knows you’re sincere.

Carmen chuckles at your tone. “Thank you for having me,” he replies, smiling with that familiar mix of modesty and quiet strength. “It was a pleasure to talk. Hopefully, your readers won’t be too bored.”

You laugh lightly, shaking your head. “I doubt that. If anything, they’ll be more intrigued than ever. You’ve got a story people want to hear—and not just about the food.”

He raises an eyebrow, studying you. "Well, that’s good to hear."

You stand up and reach out to shake his hand, a gesture of thanks and closure. He takes it, his grip firm but gentle. Then Rob approaches with more handshakes and thanks, joined by Mrs. Sullivan—the publisher. You quietly slip away, not wanting to disturb their networking, and head over to thank Elena and Margot, who have already packed up their gear while you were interviewing Carmen.

“You guys are cute together,” Margot teases, winking at you. “I didn’t know you actually knew him knew him.”

You absolutely do blush, and Elena adds, “Totally,” giving you a sly grin. “He IS cute.”

“You should see him in the kitchen,” you grumble, shoving your notebook into your tote bag to hide your flushed face.

Suddenly, Carmen appears next to you, having parted ways with Rob and Mrs. Sullivan, who likely have better things to do on a Sunday. “You did good,” he says quietly, almost as an afterthought, as if offering reassurance you didn’t know you needed.

Your chest warms again with that liquid heat, a mix of pride and gratitude blooming. You offer him one last, genuine smile.

“Thanks, Carmen,” you reply softly.

“Actually,” he begins, looking nervous again, hands on his hips, “I—I wanted to talk to you. If you have time now?”

He glances back at Rob, but the man is nowhere to be seen, already gone. Carmen nods, seeming relieved.

“Lead the way.”

—

The weather’s been sweltering lately, the sun heating up the city’s concrete walls, asphalt roads, and stone pavements until it feels like being in a big kiln. Luckily, the coffee shop has air conditioning, which both Carmen and you welcome. They are offering unusual caffeine drinks—most of them including something fruity and milky. Carmen orders a Coke with ice without checking the menu, and you go for an iced blueberry matcha latte.  

“Thank you for—” Carmen says when he’s seated properly, across from you once again.  

“Really, that’s enough of the thanks,” you wave him off, but Carmen talks over you, “For respecting that I wanna keep some things private. During the interview.”  

“Ah,” you nod slowly. “You know, normally I would send all the questions for authorization first,” you tell him truthfully, stirring your drink with the thin paper straw, mixing the green matcha with the milk froth and the purple syrup. “I wanted to be a bit nasty.”  

It’s Carmen’s turn to slowly nod, once. “I see,” he says. “I’m not surprised, honestly.”  

You fiddle with the collar of your cotton blouse nervously.  

“I appreciate that you had my back today,” Carmen continues. “It means a lot to me, you know?”

Not used to hearing kind words from Carmen, you find it hard to look at him directly, so you keep staring into your drink instead. “I think I do.”

As if sensing your hesitation, Carmen gives you a second before he asks:

“So, you have a thing for clothes, huh? Fashion, I mean.”

“As you do,” you shoot back playfully but honestly.

“I guess I enjoy the aesthetic aspect of it… I really liked some of the clothes today. It was nice to try something new. I’m not very good at new things,” he muses. “I liked the dress you wore in your office the other day. You looked—different,” Carmen adds uncertainly, playing with the napkin under the sweaty glass.

“I don’t wear dresses very often,” you stammer out, trying to hide the flush creeping up your neck. “And in the restaurant, I wanted to be in something that can get dirty. So… not too fancy clothes.”

Carmen notices how caught off guard you are right now.

“I wanted to bring up the topic of what happened at your work,” he explains slowly, hesitantly. “And what happened at The Bear before that… A lot of the aggression comes from my own frustration. And I shouldn’t take it out on other people. Like I said, there’s no excuse for it.”

You squirm in your seat, nervous to talk about the topic out loud for the first time. “It’s hard, Carm. First, you pretend you don’t know me. Then you barely talk to me. Then I feel like we’re actually starting to get along well, but you accuse me of this huge nonsense. All the while, I’m only trying to help you.”

“I know.”

“Then why?”

“Because I don’t know how to respond to kindness.”

Your eyes fill up with tears, and you have to blink a couple of times to chase them away. You take a deep breath, your chest expanding with it. Carmen’s sitting still on the stool, looking like a schoolboy who had misbehaved during recess.

“Be kind to kind,” you say simply, spreading your hands, your eyebrows raising.

Carmen chuckles, sounding very self-deprecating, scratching his nose. “I’m working on it.”

He might think you’ll let it slide. You won’t. “Promise,” you press, urgent. “Promise me.”

His eyes meet yours, and he says it. “I promise.” Then once more, in a stronger voice: “I promise. And I’m sorry.” And your heart breaks for him because you know he’s never known much kindness.

“Deal.” To keep your hands occupied, you take out your chewing gum, wrapping it in an empty sugar packet. Then you raise your iced latte in a mock toast, taking a first sip of the drink.

“Just... be careful with the 'nasty' part,” Carmen says with a slight grin, breaking the tension. “I don’t think either of us needs more of that.”  

You chuckle. “Fair enough. I’ll try to keep the nastiness in check.”  

Carmen smirks, shaking his head as he relaxes back into his chair. “I appreciate that.”

[hotluncheddie]

omg I didn't realize you wanted chubby steddie asks 🙈

as much as we love the babygirlification of Steve Harrington..... I'm obsessed with boyish manly Steve who is chubby and Eddie is obsessed with him!!!! I'm thinking about your one fic with the sweaty tank top!!!!! do you have more thoughts on this??

yesssssss!!! anon yes yesssssssss!!!!!

not me being like 'yeah! sweaty task top fic nice nice' then realising i have like three different posts that have Steve in a sweaty tank top lol

thankfully @scoops-aboy86 came in clutch with a new tank top sciario <3 (and held my hand thru writing the end lmao ty pal)

but i just love an ex jock trope, i love bulk under muscle and i think big beefy hairy guys are hot - and Steve harrington deserves to be all of that, and more

and also, importantly, eddie munson deserves to have all of that too, in and around him, all the time, in the form of Steve Harrington.

-

Eddie had come to accept the wealth of things he could be into, the actual buffet of people and scenarios that could get his dick hard. He's had more than his fair share of knuckle biting orgasms over the ex chief of police Jim Hopper. Before and, maybe worse, after getting to know him.

So he knew what it was to have something of a shame wank. To enjoy a moustache or two and a paunch at a middle.

But nothing, no deep seated daddy issues or fantasy of being held down, could ever prepare him for Steve Harrington.

Post upside down, post eventual college and transition to work. Post two bed apartment with Robin, then two bed apartment with Robin and Eddie. Then actual full blow house with Eddie, and more often than not weekend guest Robin. Dating Steve for as long as has was one thing, loving Steve with everything he had was another, and being loved by Steve was something he still had nights of panic about - silent tears as fear and self doubt gripped his throat, nightmares about it all being an elaborate prank that sneak their way in even with Steves arms wrapped tight around his middle.

but Eddie had him.

Was allowed to love him, and worship Steve for all that he was worth. It was wonderful. Eddie knew that.

But it had its challenges. Nothing past Eddie could've done would help current Eddie for what he was in for.

Like how Steve had bulked up over the years, settled and filled out in a way that made those visions of Hopper, and guys from bars he really shouldn't have been at, all come surging back.

Steve was thick, and strong and still so achingly beautiful. Boyish in his actions at times but also protective and capable in a way that made Eddie swoon. Honest to god. Made him feel like a main character in one of those bodice ripper books he had seen (taken out and read) at the library.

And then Steve made it worse.

So so so much worse.

Because Steve went and got a tattoo.

Well, another tattoo. He added roses to go along with the robin and branch on his arm, adding to its greenery with red petals and thorns that Eddie knew were secretly for him. He’d said, offhandedly, that they were his favourite and he knows, because he knows Steve, that thats something he'd listen to and remember.

He’s a die hard romantic.

And now Eddie is going to die, hard.

Soon, if Steve doesn't put a proper fucking shirt on.

Steves been wearing his stupid, old, cropped, white tank top since the appointment. He's "letting the tattoo breathe", "doesn't like the feeling of the healing skin against the fabric", "wants to do it properly". "hates Eddie and wants him to die of hard dick, big-fat-ball disease."

He glares at Steve from the other end of the couch, and maybe only three of those things are something Steve's actually said, but, he thought them. All of them. Must have.

Because Steve's tank is so old it's nearly see through, the peak of his pink nipple evident and distracting. The cropped end keeps rolling up and exposing his wider bellybutton and soft sides. And, as always, with any tank top, with any tank top on Steve, hit tits are there - hairy and lovely and out.

'Steve, please.' Eddie whines, he doesn't think he can take much more.

Steve just raises his eyebrows, taking a swig of beer and not looking away from the tv. 'If I sweat too much, it'll mess with the healing.' He says.

Eddie just crosses his arms, sinks lower into the couch. ‘Can you put on a normal shirt at least? For my sanity, for that alone, please?' Not wanting to sound desperate, but he is desperate.

Steve sighs, muting the TV. 'C'mere.' He holds his arms out and Eddie crawls into his lap. Still sulking, arms still crossed. ‘Eddie, you’re the one who gave me the tattoo. I’m following your instructions.’ Steve says gently.

‘M’firing Robin for getting you to sign the info form.’ He grumbles.

Steve smiles at him, tucking some hair behind his ears. ‘You can’t fire her for doing her job baby.’

‘Maybe not’ Eddie sniffs. ‘But I’m not sharing my baby blue ink with her next time she gets one of her slutty little lady sailor pin ups booked in.’ He mumbles to himself.

Steve pulls Eddie in closer, hands on his waist as he leans in to whisper in Eddies ear. 'Aren't I being so good though? Following what you said, no strenuous activity for two days right?' His voice a little breathy, soft.

And that makes Eddie pause, makes his insides churn and his heart rate increase. 'Ye-yeah.' He rasps, eyes wide. 'So good Stevie.'

'So we have to wait until tomorrow, like you said, yeah?' Steve asks, eyes all big and sweet, lips in a little pouty.

Fuck. He's right. Eddie dug his own grave.

'Yeah.' He sighs. He can do it, for Steve.

Steve smiles sweetly at him, tapping Eddie on the ass and shifting him closer so Steve can unmute the tv and keep watching his game. 'Good boy.' Steve says, kissing Eddies temple.

…Wait. Eddie scrunches his eyebrows, half hard and confused.

But Steve just holds him closer. Eddie buries his head in Steve's neck, and whines.

[moony-mari]

1:58 am - lando norris 

Lando norris x fem!reader Summary: 1:58 am the time he walked out of your life or 1:58 am the time he walked back into your life Warnings: hurt/comfort. angst. fluff. max is max fewtrell, italics are flashbacks a/n: put my playlist on shuffle and started writing! Hope you like it send me requests if you want an idea to be written! 

☆☆☆☆

1:58 am the exact time he walked out of your shared apartment leaving you alone, tears cascading down your face as you wondered why he went away. 

Your knees gave out as you sank to the couch, tears blurring your eyes as you opened your phone, your heart clenching as you looked at the photo of lando that lit up the dim room. Immediately you opened your email drafting  a letter of resignation to send to all the quadrant members. 

Placing your phone down, you began to walk around the apartment, memories flooding your mind 

The rain hit the windows harshly causing you and Lando to look at eachother “we're gonna get soaked” he laughed. You'd gone out for dinner and decided it was a good idea to walk to to the restaurant completely forgetting how brutal the UK weather can be 

“I guess we'll have to run home. You wanna race me lan?”

“You don't stand a chance” he smirked at you as he took your hand and led you to the door. 

He was right, you couldn't win,completely drenched hair dripping you finally caught up to him trying to catch your breath ”you could've let me win arsehole” 

“Where's the fun in that baby” he took your hand, and as if on queue music started playing from the car parked on the side “let's dance” 

You're not much for dancing but for him you did. And so you danced in the rain, laughing like a bunch of idiots. Lando pulled you in for a sweet kiss which you gladly reciprocated, until you jumped the honk of a car breaking you apart.

“Do you want to come home or are you just gonna keep standing in the rain all night?” max called 

“Oi you muppet you played the song didn't you? You should’ve shouted us before” 

“Believe it or not i actually like you two together so i gave you a cute moment don't worry i got pictures and videos so i expect a thank you”

“Thank you max” you giggled at his antics and pulled lando to the car 

You placed the frame face down not wanting to remember anymore, the hole in your heart only growing as you continued to roam through the dark halls, leading to your bedroom. Checking your phone one more time pleading for a message a call anything to tell you that he was okay and that he was coming home 

☆☆☆☆

Nov 20th was the date. 2 weeks. 14 days. Complete radio silence. Your resignation had not gone down well. Max showing up to your place pleading with you to come back saying Lando was an idiot for what he did and how you shouldn't throw 3 years of hard work at quadrant because Lando was being a dipshit. Ria and the boys spammed you with messages.you told them you’d finish all the videos scheduled this year but after that you were done. You couldn't work with him anymore. 

How could you go back? 9 years of friendship and a 4 year relationship down the drain like it meant nothing. you’ve been there since the beginning. You held him while he cried and celebrated with him after a good race. But most importantly you loved him. You thought he loved you too. 

Dread consumed you as ria dropped off your abu dhabi paddock passes reminding you that quadrant scheduled a video filming the last race of the year from the mclaren garage. You had no choice but to go. It was work after all. So you packed your bags (full of Lando's hoodies that still smell like him) , got on the plane and checked into your room on wednesday night.Declining offers to go out because you knew he'd be there and you weren't ready to face him yet. 

Saturday rolled around (too quickly) and you were getting ready to go to the paddock to watch quali. The Mclarens had been looking unbelievable this weekend, the progress they've made throughout the year clearly showing with both of the drivers being at the top in both fp1 and fp2. Your mind wandered to the possibility of Lando winning a race. Your heart clenched. A knock on your door brought you back to reality. “Are you almost ready, love quali is starting in 30 minutes? The cars waiting in the lobby ” ria spoke through the door. You grabbed what you needed and headed out. 

As predicted, Oscar finished fp3 in p1 with Lando just behind. Your heart rate was skyrocketing as you walked closer to the McLaren garage.Max knew how hard this was for you so he pulled you aside “i've known you for 9 years. I know when you're not okay. I know this is hard but this is the last time you'll be with us. Forget lando. I mean quadrant. Aarav, steve, ethan ,niran, ria, me the people you've spent the last few years with building this brand so enjoy yourself. I may be Lando's best friend but you know you'll always have me.” 

Tears pooled in your eyes as you hugged him pouring everything into it not being able to answer him verbally. You wiped your tears and continued to walk to the garage with Max next to you. 

Luckily Lando was already in the car when you got there so you settled into the familiar garage missing the feeling of watching live from the garages. Quali  went past in a blur and now all you could focus on was Lando's car going round the track setting purple sectors all around. Screams erupted as he crossed the finish line and secured pole position. Hugging all your friends and fully embracing the moment.

Lando soon made it back into the garage and Max gave you the heads up so you could go back to the hotel. You knew you'd have to face him tomorrow but maybe tomorrow you would be ready. You settled into bed and hoped you would be okay and drifted off to sleep. 

Loud knocking woke you up. Looking around for your phone you checked the time. 1:58 am. Walking up to the door thinking it was just ria you pulled on a hoodie and opened the door.You wrong. Lando stood on the opposite end of the door. Bags under his eyes and his cheeks more hollow than you remembered  he just stood there defeated. Until he finally broke the silence that consumed all the air around you

“Can I come in?” 

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Legacy

Tee Higgins x Ochocinco!Daughter

Description: Tee's been dating one of his idol's daughter behind his back. What happen's when the reader breaks her dad's number one rule? How will Ocho react when he finds out?

a/n: I need to start writing shorter, but I physically can't. I hope it meets your expectations ♡

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: overprotective father figures, language,

Main Masterlist

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

Over the last seven months you’ve been happier than ever. You got a promotion at work, finally moved out of your dad’s house and met him. You’d never felt a love like this, he made you feel things you couldn’t have imagined. He didn’t just care about you, he cherished your love, encouraged your goals, and helped you feel safe. Tee made you feel seen in the world, in his world filled with countless others that would give anything for his attention.

Falling in love with Tee Higgins was easy, hiding it from Chad Johnson was the hard part. 

Every Memorial Day weekend your dad throws a small family kickback. At first it was his way of welcoming the summer since us kids were out of school, now that we’re older he does it so we have an excuse to spend time together. This year it’s gonna be in Miami at his new condo and of course he invited all of us, including any plus ones that we wanted to bring. Funny enough Memorial Day falls on the 7 month anniversary of you and Tee being together. The coincidence of the two dates lining up is chilling. 

Your dad was the stereotypical black father growing up, he didn’t want his daughters dating anyone until 35. While that rule was broken days after him stating it, there was one he would lay his life on the line for. 

‘No daughter of his shall ever date an athlete, but more specifically a football player.’

Real funny coming from him, the legendary NFL wide receiver. It’s also funny that your boyfriend and your dad played for the same team with the same number. Yea you’re pretty much dead if he finds out.

Thankfully there may be someone that can help you.

Calling ‘Future Rich Wine Auntie’…

“Hello?”

“I'm in a crisis.” You huff.

“Oh look it’s my poor little sister crying for my help once again, what did you do this time y/n?” She snickered.

“Jicyra, you’re two years older than me.”

“..and wiser and more stable (financially and mentally).” She mumbled that last part, not very well though.

“Hey!”

You could hear her smirk though the phone. “It’s true, I’m not in my 2nd year of residency making no where close to the current average in your field.” Well she didn’t have to rub it in.

“I know but- look we actually do have a problem.”  

“I knew it, you broke your dishwasher.” She cackles.

“Oh my god, I did not break the dishwasher. Why do you say shit like that? I’m talking about Tee and dad.” You rolled your eyes.

“Oh.. wait you still haven’t told him?”

You sigh. “Not that it’s Tee, he knows I’m dating someone.” 

“ Just rip the bandaid off, no harm no foul.” 

“That’s easier said than done, Cyra.”

“Look all I’m saying is you’re making a really big deal out of nothing. Dad ain't gon do shit, plus he considers Tee a second son half the time.”

ੈ♡˳

After getting off the phone with your sister, you started to devise a plan to tell Tee about the party, but you didn’t get far when he ended up walking through the door less than 10 minutes later. “Baby, where you at?”

“In here!” You forced a smile onto your face as he engulfed you into his fresh cucumber scented body. Probably showered at the facility. “We need to talk.” You both sit.

His face dropped and he slowly released you. “What’s up?”

“It’s not bad, it’s just we need to change our 7 month plans a bit.” You kissed your teeth.

He lets out a breath of air he didn’t know he was holding in, “that’s it. Damn baby you had me thinking this was it.” 

“No, no of course not.” You lean over and plant a brief kiss on his lips. “I would never break up with you like that, or ever. Especially if you didn’t even do anything wrong.”

“I mean there was that one dream you had.” His mouth twitched up.

“I’m a very vivid dreamer, I can’t help that. And blame that bitch from the club who tried to get in your pants.” 

“Ok what’s this about then?”

“Remember those end of school parties I told you about?” He nods. “Well my dad has invited us to his next one. It’s memorial day weekend in Miami.” 

His face shifts in realization, “I guess it’s time to tell Ocho.” He surveys the way you chew on your lips and wont meet his gaze. So he grabs your hands, pulls you into his arms and kisses your head. 

“Hey, I got you. Everything’s going to be fine, knowing your dad he’ll make a joke about it, maybe threaten me then we can have good time.”

You look up at him, “you think so?”

“I know so, baby.” You smile and pulls his lips to yours.

ੈ♡˳

You arrive at Miami Dade two days before the party and without your boyfriend, due to him having an early practice the next day. The 3 hour plane ride gave you lots of time to think of a way to break your big news to your dad without him popping a blood vessel or setting anything on fire. You decided to just break the news to him as gently as possible, give him small details then let Tee speak for himself. Sure is putting all the pressure on him a bit harsh, yes. But he asked you out in the first place, so who’s fault is it really? 

A little over a year ago.

It was your first official week in Cincinnati when Danielle, a long time friend of yours, suggested that you join her at a party that the guy she was seeing was throwing. Being so new to the city, you took her up on the offer so you could meet people. When you got to the party, it was covered in orange and black jerseys and it dawned on you that this wasn’t just some party.

“Dani, did you bring me to a Bengals victory party?”

The dark skinned woman removed her coat and smiled. The number 1 printed on the white fabric made you scoff. “I knew if I told you he was a football player, you’d find an excuse not to come.”

“You’re dating Ja’Marr Chase?” The bright smile painted on her lips couldn’t be wiped off even if tried.

“Yes, it's been 3 months and I really like him, so please just stay.” So you let the woman lead you further into the party.

Let’s be clear, your dad’s dumb rule didn’t cause your destain for the football culture, it was the fact that your entire life was centered around the sport. Dad’s a legend to the team, brother played just like him and it’s all anyone ever talked about. You stayed away from sport all together, it didn’t help when you majored in Biology to be a physical therapist, but you weren’t actually watching them play.

The party wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, granted you spent most of the time standing by the bar carefully nursing your drink, but the vibes were nice. You’d already met most of the players on the team through your dad and work, so you weren’t surprised when Tee came up to you.

“Dr. Y/n Johnson, I thought you said I’d never see you outside the office.” He smiled discreetly looking you up and down.

“Uno’s dating my best friend.” You said nodding towards the couple on the dancefloor. “She dragged me here without telling me it was for y'all. But I guess congratulations are in order, AFC champs.”

“Oh you know, just another thing to be thankful for, just like you in that dress.” 

“Flattery will get you nowhere Higgins, but buy me another drink and maybe I'll bite.”

“Anything for a few more minutes with your fine ass.”

ੈ♡˳

Minutes at the bar turned into hours on the phone then days just to see that charming smile, so yea flattery got him the world. 

Your phone buzzes knocking you out of your daydream.

Mean Ass Bitch: I've been in the airport pickup line for 10 minutes, where you at bitch?

LOML T💜: missed you when i got home mamas, call me when you get there 

You bite your lip hiding the grin that he put on your face as you click on his contact. It rings once before you hear that deep southern drawl come through. “There goes my baby.. How was ya flight baby?” 

There isn't a moment when you don’t feel the warmness in your chest and butterflies in your stomach when it comes to this man. The charm may have gotten him in the door, but it was his goodhearted, loving nature that gave him the key.

“Hi..it was good, I managed to get a nap in so that was nice.” 

“Only the best for my baby. How you feelin? I know your nerves been goin crazy.” 

Just as you were about to answer, you spotted your sister, your very mad sister. “Hold on babe, J looks like she wants to kill me.”

“All good, we can't have that. Call me when you can, I love you.”

“I love you more Tamaurice.” You smirk as you get to her car.

“You the only one allowed to say that, wouldn't be gettin away wit that shit if you weren't so beautiful.” His tone lacks the seriousness he implied as his light chuckles come through the phone.

“Sounds good to me, byeee.” You can’t help laughing as you hang up and put your bags in Cyra’s Audi. 

“I hope you ain’t laughing at me dying in this damn heat waitin for your slow ass.” She mean mugged as you ducked into the car. 

“Nah, it’s because you're dressed like goddamn big bird in that damn sweat suit.” You teased.

“I will kick you out of this car, quit playin’ bitch.”

“Okay, okay,” you sigh as she pulls out of the airport traffic. “So how’s my gorgeous real estate queen big sis doing?”

“You know what, I’m good. Charmin’ rich people outta they money for some last leg beach houses that’ve seen one too many hurricanes. I’m very excited to get on this boat with a glass of champagne and just relax.” You nod along as she turns the radio on. “How’s the Tee and dad situation going?”

You take a deep breath and sink further into the seat, “I’ve decided to just let his presence speak for itself. They already know each other, but ‘Tee the wide receiver’ is very different from ‘Tee the man that’s dating his daughter’. I’ll try and ease the idea of him before he gets here, there’s no way I’m taking all the heat from this.”

She scoffed, “you just gon’ let your man take the fall?”

“He has said he’d do anything for me, so it probably won’t be that bad.” You shrugged.

“Yea ok Y/n, I can’t wait to see this blow up in your face.” 

ੈ♡˳

Walking into your dad’s house felt like going through a time capsule, he only bought it a few months ago but the walls and shelves were filled with pictures of us as kids and football memorabilia. “Dad she’s here.” Cyra sings taking your bag down the hallway that you hope has the rooms.

You find him in the kitchen arms deep in hamburger meat. “Uh oh Docta Johnson in the house. Come here and give your old man a hug.” Shaking you head, you humor him as much as you can without touching his hands.

“How you doing old man?”

“I’m alive, I’m happy and I’m excited to meet this boyfriend of yours. Where he at, did you tell him to wait outside? Baby you know I’m good.” He smiles as wide as he possibly can.

“I’m glad to hear it, but he’s not here yet. He has work so he’ll be flying out tomorrow night.” 

He smirks. “At least he has a job.”

Your jaw drops, “that was one time and you said you wouldn't bring it up again.” He chuckles as a frown builds on your face.

“I’m just playing, but this guy already sounds ten times better than what his name.. Jackson! Yea he was a leech.” 

“Okay, that enough boy talk. Want some help there?” You ask gesturing to the mountain of meat on the marble counter.

“I would love some, you always were the better cook. But don’t tell your sisters I said that.” He nods with a hushed voice.

You chuckle walking over to the sink. “You just did.” His brows furrowed. 

“What do you mean?” Chade and Jicyra tapped his shoulders from behind him. He eyes whitened out.

“What I meant was that Y/n’s good with protein heavy meals. Cy you make a mean salad and Chae you make the best cookies.” He smiled.

“Nice try, I do be throwin’ some flour around tho.” Chade remarks.

“Whatever, we’re off to buy some supplies for the party. Bye!” Then its just the two of you, in the kitchen seasoning about 20 lbs of meat and forming it into decent sized patties.

“So is there anything else I can squeeze out of you about this fine young black man? He is black right?”

You scoff, “what if he isn’t, what’d you say?”

“None, nothing. Your hair look too good for you to be dating a white man.” Your jaw drops for the second time today.

“I can’t. I don’t know why I’m helping you.”

“Aww my poor middle child.” You shove his arm causing him to get raw meat on his shirt. 

“Ok, I deserved that.” He nods, side eying you. “Don’t even try it.”

“You no fun. Come just tell me something about the guy.” 

You bite. “Fine, yes he’s black. He’s tall, kind, smart, sweet and I guess he’s pretty athletic.”

He hums, “athletic huh. What we talkin here NBA, NHL, FIFA?”

“I ain’t giving you no more, you’ll see him tomorrow and I’ll let him speak for himself.” You finish your part then walked out of the kitchen.

“I can read in between the lines Y/n! If Ja’Marr walks in this house tomorrow, I’m beating his ass!”

If he only knew how close he really was.

ੈ♡˳

You ended going out to dinner with your sisters when they got back. It was fun it being just being them, you could gossip and chit chat all you wanted without Ochocinco lurking around. Before bed you and Tee talked all about each other’s day and all the nerves about him meeting your dad. He reassured you that there was nothing he couldn’t handle and nothing your dad could say that changed how he felt about you. It felt good going to bed knowing your boyfriend had no worries about your relationship changing at all.

The next day was pretty chill, dad was too busy with the last minute preparations for the party. So you spent most of your time at the mall with your siblings. Your brother pretty much just groaned about the heat and the amount of time you spent in stores, but you reminded him plenty of times that he could go off on his own and he chose to stay. With that said the four of you had a pretty nice time. Until the ride home, when you could not get away from the Tee questions.

“Don’t you think its weird that they shared the same number and team?” Junior spent 20 minutes just going over the similarities between them like you hadn’t already known how odd it was.

“Jr leave her alone. How’s his stamina though?” Chade was the youngest, as anyone could probably tell with her bluntness.

“No sex questions please, this is a rental and Jr’s not afraid to blow chunks.” Cyra joked.

“Yall act like I don’t have sex.”

“Ok so would like to know what Matt and I did at your New Years Party?” Chade smirked. 

He eyes just about fell out of his head. “You and Matt? Matt my best friend? YOU AND MY BEST FRIEND FUCKED AT MY PARTY?”

That was the end of the questionnaire.

ੈ♡˳

The second you pulled into the driveway you noticed two things: your dad’s SUV was still absent and there was another random car by the curb. 

“Who’s that?” Cyra shrugged in response and just motioned you to get out. Normally someone would’ve taken offense to be thrown out of a car, but then your favorite person in the world got out of the other car.

“Damn, he is tall.” Jr’s comment was deaf to your ears as you ran over to your boyfriend.

“Hey babygirl.” He smiled wrapping his arms around you.

“What are you doing here? It’s only 4 and you weren’t supposed to land until 9. You know what I don’t care.” He lifts you onto the trunk of the vehicle so you’re eye to eye and guides your lips to his. Another feeling you could never get tired of, his plump lips against your glossy ones. Your arms wrap around his neck in an instant to pull him closer into you. You love being able to relinquish all control and just let him move you how he sees fit. He pecks your tropical scented lips once more before helping you down.

“Well that is an image I’m never getting out of my head.” Jr shakes his head and takes your bags out of the car. 

“Let’s go in the house so Y/n can properly introduce us to her beau.” You stay glued to his side as you make your way into the condo. 

As Junior rounds the corner to the bedrooms he stops in his tracks and the bags drop onto the floor.

“JUNIOR MY PERFUME!” Chade shoves him and grabs her bags. “Oh shit.”

Cyra being in no mood for their nonsense, pokes her head down the hall. “What the hell is wrong with you- hi daddy.” You shoot her a panicked look. She responds with an equally panicked shrug. The situation is impossible, there’s only one way to the living room and its to pass that very hallway. 

“This is not how this was supposed to happen.” You whine at the lowest voice you could manage. Which didn’t end up being that low in the end.

“How what’s supposed to happen?” Your dad’s voice bellows out. Tee squeezes your shoulder as the man walks into your view.

“Surprise?” 

He sighs. “Damn, I owe Junior some money.” 

“I’m sorry, what?” You blink. All of sudden your brother bursts out laughing and starts dancing around your father.

“I told you! He had his mind set on you bringing either Ja’Marr or Burrow ‘as a wildcard’. I’m ten thousand dollars richer people.” 

“You bet ten racks on who she was dating! Dad I thought you were smarted than this.” Cyra expresses dumbfounded like the rest of you.

“Dad what the fuck? Is that why you wanted to know if he was black or not?” You rolled your eyes before walking past the man into the living room.

“Y/n it wasn’t like that-

“I don’t care, I’m just glad you lost your money to the dumbest person here.” 

His forehead creased, “Was that her way of calling me the new dumbest person?” Both of your sisters nodded. “Got it.”

Then Tee, still standing at the doorway, clears his throat. “Ocho.”

Your dad turns back towards him and pulls him into a ‘bro-hug’. “Well if it isn't the younger taller version of myself. I should’ve known it was you, not because of that but you didn’t exactly take your eyes off of her when she came down to that practice.”

Tee chuckled. “Couldn’t help it, man. I would’ve talked to you the last time you came to practice, but I was under strict instructions not to. When the love of your life tells you something, I make it habit to listen.” Chade nudges you as your face heats up.

“Love of your life huh? Glad to know she’s in good hands, and you have no excuses not to go for my records now. You got a physical therapist on speed dial.” They laugh together.

“See, I told you you were worried for nothing.” Cyra joins you on the couch. 

“Yea I gues you were right.” You mutter bringing a smirk to her face.

“I’m sorry what was that? Did The Dr. Y/n Johnson just admit that she was wrong.”

You pressed your lips together and got up. “You heard me or do you need an audiologist? Cause I can’t help you in that area, you’re just getting old.” You walked over to Tee, quickly grabbed his hand and ducked when a pillow came flying your way.

“Im only 2 years older than you bitch.” You cackled running down the hall to your room.

“Hey, no funny business in my house!” You shut the door and laid back against it trying to calm down while Tee sat on the bed studying you.

“What?” You walk over and stand between his legs.

“I like this side of you.” He sucks in his bottom lip scooting back on the bed.

“Yea, well I know a side you like even more.” You saying climbing onto his lap.

His hands go around your hips and cup your ass. “Oh I like this Y/n very much.” You push him back and place ghost kisses on his lips.

“Woman if you don’t- You go to give him a peck but lightly bite his lip instead. “Fuck.”

He closes the distance between you, sucking in your lips and licking into your mouth. 

Yea you had nothing to worry about at all.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

a/n: reblog if you like, comment or request any scenarios you'd like for me to write for our octopus lover♥︎

[jaylver]

SEVEN — L.HS

SYNOPSIS: Pissing you off wasn’t what Heeseung expected or wanted. So, he came up with a plan to try and win your good side back over the seven days of the week.

PAIRINGS: non-idol!heeseung x afab!reader

GENRE: established relationship, VERY slight angst, lots of fluff

WARNING(S): profanities, mentions of taylor swift's concert ticketing (👹)

WC: 1.8k

AUTHOR NOTES: all thanks to kook's seven that inspired me this! btw it's inspired by the MV not the lyrics 😭 man the lyrics threw me tf off i'm CRYING anyway i don't write nsfw sooo don't expect me to base it off the lyrics HAHAH but the song and mv just reminds me of hee sm! that's why i decided to whip this up. enjoy and please leave a feedback! it'll help a lot <3

masterlist | © jaylver all rights reserved.

Heeseung was an idiot.

He hated the fact that he had actually pissed you off. Forgetting a date was the last mistake he expected from himself, unintentionally leaving you sitting in the middle of the restaurant while it rained outside, the clear picture of you being stood up embarrassed you. He was such an ass for that.

He knew he deserved the angry yells from you, holding you as you calmed down until you finally heard him out. You couldn’t entirely blame him for working late, but you wished he had told you sooner, sobbing into his shoulder as he kissed your tears away, kissing your waist and eased your mind, whispering 'sorry' on repeat.

“Let me love you right.”

Heeseung stuck to his promise, doing one of the craziest things he hasn’t done in a while, which was planning something for every day of the week.

i. Monday

Coming home from work was exhausting. You just wanted to lie in bed with a soothing mask on and do nothing.

Upon entering the threshold, you noticed something different. Heeseung wasn’t in his usual position on the couch watching his usual evening program or even gaming. There’s no way he would have disappeared, right?

“You’re back,”

Speaking of the devil.

You eyed the plates of food in his hands, catching the cheesy grin on his face. “What are you doing?” you placed your bag down, pressing a kiss on his cheek.

“Dinner, duh,”

Eyebrows furrowed, you casted him a suspicious glance. “There’s no motive behind this, is there?”

Heeseung set the plates down, looking thoroughly offended. “Can’t I do something for my girl?”

“Hee, you never cook. You live on instant noodles—which is so bad, by the way—that is why I’m wondering what all these are,”

Your gaze softened at the nicely cooked meals your boyfriend had prepared, feeling his arm slowly slither around your waist. "I just wanted to do something nice,"

Something clicked in your mind. "Is it because of last weekend? You know I'm over it, right?"

It seemed that your words had hit the spot. His lopsided smile told you you've guessed it right.

"Heeseung,"

He threw his hands up in defeat, letting out a breath. "I can't help feeling guilty and I just wanted to make up for it," he tugged you in closer. "Can I?"

You were never immune to your boyfriend's charms, giving in and rolling your eyes at him. "Of course you can. I'll make sure to taste every flavour of your home cooked meal,"

His grin widened, pinching your cheeks softly. "You're so annoying,"

"What's that?"

"You're so cute, I mean."

ii. Tuesday

"I had a pleasant surprise at the office today,"

You were saying when you closed the door, seeing Heeseung at his usual spot watching some sports program on the big screen, acting oblivious. He hummed in response as you crept closer to him.

"I got flowers," you stood behind him, leaning down and threw your arms around his neck. "My favourite flowers,"

He turned his head slightly towards you, an amused smile plastered on that sly face of his. "I wonder who they're from,"

"I wonder too," you played along, pressing a kiss on his cheek and instantly saw his typical pleased expression. "Thank you,"

"I'm glad you liked them," he held your hand gently, sincerity shining in his gaze.

"I always like every one of them that you've sent me,"

"I'll make sure to send you more."

iii. Wednesday

"I rented the movie you were dying to watch,"

"No way!"

Getting off work early and being back home earlier than usual was the greatest thing you could ever get from the world. It was one of those days where you and your boyfriend decided to have a chill night in, calling your usual take out, but this time, Heeseung had something in store.

Heeseung knew you were dying to watch a newly released movie considering the amount of times you rambled to him about it. But with your's and his packed schedules, staying at home was almost like a treasure. So, he wanted to make sure you get to watch the movie without leaving the comforts of your couch and rented the movie instead.

"I will cry right now," you melted into his touch the moment you cuddled into his side, letting him kiss your forehead.

"Watch the movie first before you cry," he laughed jokingly, rubbing your arm soothingly.

You smiled at him, poking his cheek. "I'll pay for the next time, okay? I'm not taking a 'no' as an answer,"

He nodded, stroking your head affectionately. He might've gone along with your words, but deep down, he knew he was going to be the one who pays next round, just because he wanted to. It was you after all.

iv. Thursday

"You're joking, right?"

Heeseung was a brave fighter. He would actually fight hard just for you. But buying concert tickets? That was a whole different side of war he had seen.

Heeseung intended it to be a surprise. During his lunchtime at work, he gathered his friends and their computers to snatch tickets, specifically Taylor Swift tickets. He was fighting against millions of people and just thinking about it made him shudder.

Sunghoon was losing his focus as time passed, Jay needed the toilet and Jake was on the brink of closing his tabs out of impatience, but Heeseung was the only one holding out.

Time ticked and just when everyone was about to lose it, Heeseung's tab was loaded. He swore he saw the gates of heaven there and then. It all happened in a haze and before he knew it, the tickets were secured. Now, he needed a plan to surprise you.

Frankly, a random Thursday night wasn't fit for a whole damn surprise and Heeseung was tired. During dinner, he just let it slip, seeing the honest shock in your face was totally worth it.

"I'm not joking at all," he chuckled, watching you jump around and attacking him with a bear hug, arms and legs wrapped around his body.

"You won the great war!" You practically smothered his face with kisses, and he just accepted it happily.

"Oh my God, I need to think of outfit ideas for us,"

He sat there with you in his hands, feeling content already just from the crazy smile on your face. All it took was your happiness to make him equally happy.

v. Friday

Having a boyfriend who loved to spend money on useless stuff was sometimes a blessing and a curse.

This time around, Heeseung actually put one of his impulse buys to use. The karaoke machine.

Spending Friday nights inside was a calming type of fun. You and Heeseung both had already moved past that phase of staying out late and just wanted a peace of mind at home now instead. Even if it meant you resembled old couples by playing monopoly, checkers, uno and other types of games, it didn't matter to either you or him.

Heeseung, however, thought it was an even more fun idea to crank up the karaoke machine rotting in the other room to add to the night. You didn't say no, and watched him drag it out with a proud look on his face.

He set it up, praying there would be no noise complaints the next morning and started singing some of his favourite songs. You watched him silently, a sweet smile evident on your lips.

"Come on, let's sing our song," he tugged your hand, pulling you to your feet and handing you a microphone. The familiar beat of a slow romantic song that you two loved started playing and he pulled you close to him, wrapping his arm around your waist.

The voices of yours and his mixed together into the night, swaying with each other and just purely enjoying one another's company. Heeseung made sure to make you feel special, spinning you around and doing extra stunts, eliciting laughter from you.

If this could last forever, you wished it would.

vi. Saturday

Heeseung has always been a hopeless romantic, it's no secret.

He loved bringing you out on dates, whether it was spontaneous or not, he just wanted to treat you like a princess.

It wasn't an exception this time.

Bringing you out to one of the michelin restaurants he wanted to try out in a long time as a date night that he had been planning for months on end. It was totally worth it when he was the dress you were wearing, complimenting his suit as well.

"You look gorgeous tonight, wow," he said this again once you got out of the car, even after telling you many times before leaving your place.

"Thank you," you accepted his hand, blushing all over again. "You look absolutely breathtaking as well,"

He shot a wink at you. "Flattered,"

"I'm really happy we're spending tonight together,"

"So suddenly? We always do," he glanced confusedly at you.

"I know," you squeezed his hand softly. "But tonight I'm just extra happy we're both here, you know? I'm just grateful for you. The things you did—hell, this—everything, I'm lucky to have you,"

"Me too," he squeezed your hand back, swinging it back and forth. "I'll always go out of my way for you. You're the exception."

vii. Sunday

Sundays were left for shopping and splurging.

You hated it but Heeseung couldn't help spending money on you. He loved buying you stuff which included his useless online shopping hauls.

Walking around the mall hand in hand, you swore your legs were on the verge of breaking. Heeseung was an avid shopper compared to you, so instead of the stereotypical girlfriend dragging her boyfriend around, it was the opposite for you.

You helped him pick out a new cologne, some new clothes and skincare. Not knowing it would be your turn to shop, or at least, he was hoping you would buy something.

"I want some ice cream,"

"Only ice cream?"

"Yes, Hee, just ice cream," you tugged him towards the nearest Baskin Robbins you could locate, craving for a scoop of cookies and cream. "You know you don't need to splurge on me, right?"

"I know, but I want to," he pouted, showing his classic bambi eyes to you.

"I know you do," you bumped his shoulder lightly. "But today, I just want some ice cream, nothing more,"

"Let me get you your favourite flavours?"

"I can't say no to that."

Safe to say Heeseung had successfully erased the bad memory from your mind and left even better ones. He might've not been the most perfect guy, but he was the best for you, all seven days, every week, every month, and for evermore.

[minustwofingers]

exoplanet p. 4.5

second half of exoplanet part 4!

pairing: ellie williams x reader

summary: you’ve won the life lottery as one of the few people on earth with parents who gained admittance to the most prestigous safezone in the world after the outbreak. but after a lab accident sends you out to jackson, wyoming, real life hits you fast. it’s a good thing that a hot lesbian finds u. (lol). mean ellie at first, slowburn, enemies to friends to lovers, fem reader asf

warnings: PLEASE READ! mentions of nsfw content (read at your own risk), violence, explicit language. also a lot of angst. ellie is still kind of a dick but not quite as much. 

a/n: haha. isn’t it sooo funny how i said this would come out almost 12 hours later and then i posted it? i need to hit the hay early asf today if im to be frank w you guys so here it is now. i want to thank you all for the sweet and kind messages and comments i’ve been getting—they’ve been fuel for my writing!! also, i’ve got a better idea of how i want to end it now, so i’ve got a pretty good outline for what’s going to happen. expect around 3 more parts (one of which may or may not be an epilogue from ellie’s pov). as always thanks for reading!

part 1

part 2

part 3

part 4.0 (first half of this part) 

playlist inspired by exoplanet!!

wc: 6.5k

tags: @prettyplant0 @666findgod @sawaagyapong @rystarkov @buzzybuzzsposts @addisonnie @galacticstxrdust @parkersmyth @pinkazelma @ariianelle @lu002 @blairfox04 @sparkleswonderland @elliesflower​ 

enjoy x 

Dina’s sudden reappearance in your life was turning into one of the best things you had going on. When you were done with work, instead of loitering about Joel’s home and hoping to run into Ellie, you’d knock on Dina’s front door and spend your afternoons gossiping and trading stories. 

She never asked so explicitly about Ellie again, but you could tell that occasionally she wanted to.

“Guess whose birthday it is this weekend?” asked Dina one day in late April. The Wyoming sun was hung high in the sky, and the weather was steadily becoming warmer. The temperature was stuck at a breezy 60, and a part of you wondered just how hot it would get over the summer. 

Terranova rarely ever got over 70 degrees. Would it be hotter than that? Would you even be here to see it?

“Yours?” you guessed casually, pushing away the ever-present question of how long you’d really be in Jackson.

Dina snorted. “No. Not quite. You just missed mine, actually. I’m a December baby.” 

“Jesse?”

“No.”

“Joel?”

“Nope.” Her mouth popped on the p. 

Your heart thudded. “Uh—Ellie?” 

Her face split into a wide grin. “Yes! It’s her 20th. Isn’t that crazy? She’s ancient.” 

“Wow!” you said, coaxing faux enthusiasm into your voice. 

You and her had kept seeing each other at night, long after Joel had turned in. It always proceeded like clockwork—she’d come knock at your door, you’d fall into her bed, and then you’d leave.

You’d thankfully avoided any of the embarrassing stuff that you’d done the second night—no more unnecessary sensual face touching and whispers of her being a good person. You wanted to, though. There was so much that you ached to tell her, so many words that threatened to spill from your lips that you just barely managed to keep at bay. 

The worst part was the way that nothing had really changed between you two beyond what transpired every few evenings in her room. Each morning, you’d wake up knowing that you were in for another day of pretending like she didn’t know what it sounded like when you whined and begged and told her where to touch you. Like you didn’t know how her mouth tasted.

“I want to get her a present,” Dina was saying. “I do something for her every year, but I want this birthday to be a little different—given that she’s made it two decades and all, you know.” 

“That’s really thoughtful of you.”

Dina’s eyes sparkled. “I know! Do you want to help? If you do, I’ll tell her it’s from you, too.”

“Actually,” you said, wheels in your head turning, “That would be amazing. I have no idea what I’d get her otherwise.”

“Great.” Dina leaned back, nabbing her backpack from the ground and fishing through it until she produced a map. She unfolded it and began gesturing over the marks. “I found an abandoned bookstore in this area outside of the wall.” She tapped on a dot that she’d made, situated a fair ways away from the wall and on the opposite side of the town as the dam. 

“So we’re going shopping?”

Dina laughed. “Yeah. 5 finger discount, too. The only problem is that we might need to kill some baddies to qualify, but once we clear our way, it’s home free.”

“Right,” you said, fear creeping into your bones at the thought of having to fight off the infected. You’d only been on a few patrols since you’d been shot, and each had been totally unnoteworthy. You’d yet to actually shoot your gun at anything. “You—you do know that I’m not actually that good of a patrol partner, right?”

“Don’t worry about it,” said Dina, waving her hand dismissively. “I can take care of us. Plus, we haven’t seen infected in this area for a while. This is a pretty remote area—tough to reach unless you know what you’re looking for.”

“So, when are we going?”

A glimmer appeared in her eye. “Now?”

~

“Where are you going?” 

Ellie stood, her arms crossed as she leaned against the opposite wall. You were grabbing your patrol things, slinging your backpack over your shoulders and pulling on the gray sweatshirt she’d given you.

“Out with Dina,” you said, slightly breathless from moving so quickly. You hadn’t been expecting Ellie to be home—normally she was keeping herself busy picking up extra patrol shifts and helping Joel. It had been an unwelcome surprise to run into her, sour faced and serious while you were trying to get ready. 

“Out where?”

You shrugged, trying your best to look nonchalant. “Dina said she wanted to show me something.”

She was silent as you finished lacing up your shoes, but you could see her watching you from the corner of your eyes.

“I’ll be back in time for tonight, if that’s what you’re worried about,” you offered snidely, hardly realizing what you’d said until it had left your lips. It had been a low blow. It had been nasty. You weren’t sure why you’d said it. 

“That’s not—” She rubbed the bridge of her nose with her fingers. “I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“I know.” You stood up, feeling deflated. “Sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” 

Ellie sent you a tight smile. “It’s fine.”  

You walked back to Dina’s feeling heavy. That was how most of your interactions with Ellie seemed to go nowadays—awkward, stiff, and remarkably unfriendly. You weren’t sure what changed. And she was still fucking you, which didn’t make much sense.

Sometimes it felt like she was distancing herself on purpose. But that had to be wrong, because why would she do that? You obviously liked her. She wasn’t the one at risk of being hurt. 

You and Dina took off by foot as the sun began to set, well-armed with both weapons and navigational equipment. Well—Dina was, at least. All you had was the small gun Ellie had given you. Dina was doing all of the heavy lifting.

The forest was quiet, interrupted only occasionally by songbirds and the sound of wind rustling through the leaves. Spring had hit Jackson suddenly, the underbrush exploding in volume and flowers blooming everywhere.

As you two walked through the woods, chattering mindlessly and generally enjoying each other’s company, you made a mental reminder to return to the forest to pick up a makeshift bouquet of flowers. Ellie didn’t seem like the type to swoon over things like that, but even the most unromantic people could recognize the gesture of flowers. You were sure she’d at least put them in a vase. 

Eventually the path Dina was leading you on opened up to a heavily overgrown street, a small decrepit strip mall hidden away in the shrubbery.

“Here!” said Dina cheerily. She jogged forward, scrubbing the moss off of the door to show a book icon on the filthy glass.

“And you said that there’s no infected here?” you asked, your fingers wrapped nervously around your gun.

“Of course I did,” said Dina. “Do you think I’d take you somewhere that was infested?”

The glass shattered as a body came crashing through the door, thrashing and clicking in a mass of bloody limbs as it took Dina to the ground.

Your finger squeezed the trigger before you could think, sending a spray of gore into the air as Dina forced the thing off of her and stood, panting. 

There wasn’t even a chance to breathe. A piercing shriek cut through the air before three more followed the first, not paying any mind to the jagged edges of the broken door that grabbed at their mutilated skin. 

“Fuck!” Dina’s knife went swinging through the air, slicing and jabbing at the creatures in front of you. They fell in quick succession, but there was more rustling and screaming from inside. Far too much rustling. “Run!”

She didn’t have to tell you twice. Despite the fact that you’d never been a track star in school, you bolted quicker than you’d even known possible. Your backpack banged against your back as you sprinted down the road, ducking into the brush and making a break for it with Dina right on your tail. 

The walk there had taken close to 30 minutes. Your sprint cut that in over half. You and Dina ran in stride, with her lagging behind to send off a few shots to ground the runners that were quick enough to keep up. The clearing you appeared in all the way back in the winter flashed by you in a second, and within another few moments, you were both resting against the wall, chests heaving as you both picked off the stragglers that had come out of the forest to investigate.

By the time the last gunshot rang out and the final infected slumped to the ground, you were shaking uncontrollably, your gun vibrating in your hand. 

“Shit, I’m so sorry,” said Dina, equally breathless though significantly more composed as you two walked through the entrance, getting concerned looks from the people who were manning the gate. “I’ve never seen so many in that store before. I don’t understand. It was clear the last time I went.” 

Before you could respond, someone stepped into your eye line.

“What the fuck did you do,” seethed Ellie. Her eyes were wild, her lip curled in a manner so derisive you began to wonder if you’d ever actually seen her angry before this. 

“Chill, Ellie,” said Dina. “Y/N and I were just going to try and pick something up for your birthday. There were…a few more than what I was expecting. But it’s fine. We handled them. She did great.”

Ellie looked at you then, and you could feel her taking you in. Her eyes rested with accusation at the way that your hands were trembling. “You’re so fucking stupid, Dina. You knew that she’s never done this before. What the fuck is wrong with you, taking her out like that?”

“It was clear the last time I was there!” Dina spoke with her hands, waving them through the air in emphasis.“There wasn’t supposed to be any. I don’t know what to tell you. I didn’t purposefully try to get us killed.” 

Ellie sent her another scathing look before turning her attention to you. “And don’t even get me started with you.”

You blinked. “What?”

“What the fuck were you thinking?!” she snapped. 

Dina sent you a wink and disappeared down the street in the direction of her house. 

“I was thinking of your birthday, actually,” you said delicately. “We were going to get you something from the bookstore.”

“That is not an excuse to go get yourself killed!”

You held up your hands in mock surrender, which looked really stupid considering how hard you were still trembling. “I’m sorry. That wasn’t the original plan. Can we not do this right now? I’m still trying to, uh, process what happened.” 

As if to punctuate your point, the next step you took nearly sent you to the ground, your knees wobbling. 

Ellie’s hands were at your sides in an instant, solid and steadying against you as you regained your balance.

“Sorry,” you said again, lower this time. 

“How many?” Ellie asked. Her voice was softer now, almost resigned. She hadn’t let go yet.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “After the first three or four, I lost count. They just kept—” You winced at the memory of the wet sound that they made hitting the ground. “They just kept coming.” 

“You did them a favor,” said Ellie, stepping back and to your side as you began to walk forward. Her hand stayed posed on your forearm. “It gets easier.” 

“I don’t know if I want it to get easier,” you confessed. 

“Well, how about you start by never doing something that fucking stupid again.” Her words lacked any venom. “Don’t you ever go out without me again, okay? Do you have any idea what could’ve happened to you?”

You gave your trembling hands a look. “I can take a guess.”

Ellie walked you back to Joel’s house, helping you out of your jacket and unsubtly checking your skin for bites. Or at least that’s what she said she was doing. She couldn’t seem to stop touching you. 

You headed back up to your room to get changed as Ellie shut the front door and was off to finish her work with Tommy. As you leisurely made your way down the hallway, you noticed that something was off—the hallway closet was slightly ajar.

The memories of your first night there came floating back to you, images of Ellie shutting the door before you could see inside emerging to the forefront.

It wouldn’t hurt to look, would it? It was probably nothing. 

Your hand wrapped tentatively around the handle, pulling the door open so slowly that the old, rusty hinge fell silent.

It wasn’t what you were expecting. It wasn’t what you were expecting at all. 

It wasn’t really a closet—there were a few shelves, but no hangers. In their place, there were stacks of textbooks with old, dated covers of the stars, planets, and physics. The back wall was plastered with drawings of constellations and calculations in Ellie’s messy scrawl, reminiscent of the leftover scrap paper from when you sat your physics exams and did your problem sets.

The memory of Ellie staring at your textbook re-emerged to hit you with full force. No wonder she was interested in it. THIS is what she was going to say that she wanted to study when you’d asked her. 

A slow smile crept onto your face as you thought about her upcoming birthday.

You knew what you were getting her now. 

~

Preparing for Ellie’s surprise party was a full day’s worth of work. You and Dina had convinced Maria to give Ellie enough things to do that she’d stay out of the house for the majority of the afternoon. You felt kind of guilty that Ellie was being put to work on her birthday of all days, but Dina just shook her head.

“It’s Ellie,” she said. “She lives to act all macho and patrol and shit. This is probably an extra present to her.” 

You two had located some flour, sugar, eggs, and butter and were hard at work baking a cake. It was tough going without a real recipe, but you’d grown up with a mother who loved baking, so you tried to do it from memory.

The result was a rather lopsided looking monstrosity that you and Dina had attempted to salvage through the liberal application of the thin icing you’d managed to whip up using milk and powdered sugar. It didn’t work, and you two didn’t wait long enough for the cake to cool before frosting it, so it melted in puddles and made the cake soggy.

“Fantastic work,” said Dina, wiping her hands on her front as you two surveyed the final product. “Really incredible, Y/N. You should really consider a career change.”

“Shut up,” you said, snorting. “Ellie’s gonna hate this.”

“She’s going to think it’s hilarious,” Dina corrected. “I’m sure it can’t taste too bad, right?”

You shivered. “Don’t say that.”

The decorations and gathering of presents were thankfully an easier challenge, and before you knew it Joel’s living room was fixed up to look obnoxious as possible, with a tacky “HAPP BIRTHDAE ELLIE” strung up in blood red reflective plastic (you two couldn’t find any Ys) above the fireplace. “Happy 5th Birthday!” balloons filled the ceiling, their gaudy purple color clashing horrifically with the red of the lettering. 

“This is just awful, Dina,” you said. “Ellie’s never going to speak to us again.”

“You need to chill,” Dina responded. “She might act grumpy all of the time, but I know her, and I know she’ll secretly like this.”

7 rolled around quickly, and with it came the guests.

First was the unsurprising Jesse, grinning and carrying a satchel that had a makeshift card attached to the top labeled “Ellie”. 

Next came Astrid, Bonnie, and Greg—all of the patrolmen that were roughly around your age. You hadn’t spent all that much time with them, but they’d always been fun.

Last came a girl you’d never seen before.

“Hi!” she said, extending a hand and looking at you through a fringe of choppy black hair. 

“Hi!” you said, taking her hand and shaking it once. “I’m Y/N.”

“I know,” she said, her eyes crinkling. “I’m Cat.”

“I can’t believe you two haven’t met before,” said Dina, swooping in to stand beside you. There was something written on her face—something that looked kind of like worry.

“I can’t either!” you said good-naturedly. “How do you know Ellie?”

Dina cringed.

Cat just smiled wider. “Oh. Ellie and I go way back.”

“Cat, why don’t you go help me in the kitchen? I need to finish plating some stuff,” said Dina. 

“Sure!” Cat sent you one more winning smile, following Dina with a bounce in her step.

Something felt deeply off about that interaction, but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it was. You’d never seen Dina so eager to get you away from someone. Maybe it’d just been a coincidence?

You didn’t get a chance to dwell on it further, because Ellie was opening the door. 

“Surprise!” Everyone in the living room yelled upon seeing her. 

Ellie blanched, her eyes landing on you for a moment before she cast her gaze to the rest of the room. “What’s this?”

“Your birthday party,” said Dina, appearing from the kitchen with a plate of crackers and other appetizers, Cat in tow. “You didn’t think we were just going to let you turn 20 without embarrassing you just a little bit?”

“Those are the most hideous balloons I’ve ever seen,” said Ellie, crossing her arms.

“Thanks,” you said, beaming. “I picked them out myself.” 

Much to your surprise, her lips lifted until she was smiling back. “You’re such a loser.”

“Okay!” said Dina, clearing her throat and stepping in between you two. “You two can flirt later. I’ve been slaving away in the kitchen for an entire day. Let’s eat.”

You shut your mouth, blushing uncontrollably as your eyes lifted. Ellie’s cheeks looked uncharacteristically pink and her eyes were fixed on your shoes.

Dinner went by quickly, with everyone trading odd stories about patrolling and their life before Jackson. You learned that Dina had actually been born in New Mexico and that Astrid was from Oregon. You heard all about how Jesse and Greg came across an old mall a few miles out of Jackson that was so full of infected that they could hear them scratching at the doors and clicking even before they were within eyesight of the building. You told some stories about your life in Terranova, about studying and your family. 

“What the fuck is this?” asked Ellie once Dina had reappeared, carrying your sorry excuse of a birthday cake. Time had not treated it well. The first layer was almost entirely slid off, and the cake looked damp from the melted icing.

“It’s your birthday cake,” you said. “We, uh, tried. I don’t have a cake recipe memorized, and it was harder than I expected.”

The candles Dina attempted to stick into the cake kept falling out, the structural integrity so weakened from the melted frosting that chunks were coming off.

“Let’s just pretend that there’s 20 candles,” said Dina finally once the top layer of the cake finally split in half. 

“Right,” said Ellie, snorting. 

Dina led a very enthusiastic rendition of the Happy Birthday song that ended in cheers and hollers as Ellie dramatically lowered her head to the cake and pretended to blow the “candles” out. 

No one touched the cake, but you couldn’t blame them. 

Next came presents. Jesse went first, giving Ellie a satchel that held a bunch of cleaning equipment for her patrol rifles. Dina had found a t-shirt that said “Enemy of the State” in goofy comic sans lettering, and Ellie was unsuccessful in holding back her giggles at seeing it. 

“Dina, this is so stupid,” she said, but there was no venom in her tone, just amusement. 

It was your turn next, so you leaned across the table to place the small box in front of her. 

“Please tell me you didn’t almost die getting this one,” said Ellie, giving you a suspicious look.

“Not at all,” you said. “I accidentally brought it from Terranova.” 

Her nimble fingers untied the flimsy ribbon you’d haphazardly wrapped around the tiny brown box, lifting the lid off and peering inside.

“It’s a…rock?” Ellie frowned, pulling it out and holding it in her hand.

“You got her a rock for her birthday?” Cat asked you from her position to your right, her eyebrows raised.

“It’s not just a rock,” you said. “It’s a moon rock. Like, from the moon.”

Ellie froze, her eyes saucers as she stared at the rock balanced in her palm. “What?”

“I told you I studied astrophysics,” you said casually. “One of my professors let me borrow it because my research supervisor wanted to take a look at it, so it was in my bag. And I never had the chance to give it to him, obviously. So it’s yours now.” 

“Holy fuck.” She turned in over, her fingers running across the surface. “This is…wow. Oh my god.”

“That’s so cool, dude,” Jesse said. “Like, insane. I didn’t even know that those were a thing.”

“There’s only a couple in the world,” you added. “And even fewer that are still reachable. The rest are…well, out here somewhere. Terranova only has a few from our own expeditions and the professors who managed to grab what they had when they moved.”

“This one’s from me,” said Cat, leaning forward and placing an envelope in front of Ellie. “It’s not as cool as a moon rock, but I thought you’d like it.” 

Her fingers slid under the tongue of the envelope, ripping it open and pulling a piece of paper out. 

“Good for one more free tattoo,” Ellie read out.

Cat sat back, looking awfully pleased with herself. 

“Cat was the one who gave Ellie the one on her arm,” Dina explained to you.

 A memory pricked at your consciousness, dating back to your first patrol with Ellie.

An ex had given her the tattoo on her arm.

The girl who had given her tattoo was Cat.

Cat was her ex.

That makes so much sense you realized with horror as you remembered how Cat had told you so confidently that she and Ellie went way back. Of course they did. They used to date.

“Where’d you go?” asked Dina, bumping your shoulder.

“Sorry,” you said, rubbing the bridge of your nose. “Just, uh, tired.”

When you looked up, Ellie’s eyes were on you, her lips slightly quirked.

You looked away, instead focusing on the placemats that Dina had set out. Cat was so different from you—so peppy, so confident, so loud. No wonder Ellie didn’t want anything more than what you had now. Whatever Ellie had seen in Cat had nothing to do with you. 

The night ended with you all sitting on the couches in the living room with Dina mixing drinks so strong that you were wondering if she was trying to kill you. 

“Jesus Christ, Dina,” you said as you watched her pour. “What is that? 90 percent vodka?” 

“I prefer to call it efficient,” Dina corrected. 

It burned going down your throat and you fought back a cough as you placed your glass back on the coffee table. Ellie was right next to you, her thigh barely brushing against yours as you moved.

Cat was on the other side of the room, seated next to Jesse and Astrid. You were internally very proud that Ellie had chosen to sit next to you instead. Her arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, and even though it couldn’t have meant all that much, you couldn’t help but wonder if it at least meant something. 

You were just halfway through your cup by the time you started to feel really and properly sloshed. Your voice sounded tinny in your ears, and from the way that Ellie was laughing at anything anyone said, you had a sneaking suspicion that she was somewhere around where you were.

It wasn’t long before everyone had excused themselves and wished Ellie a final happy birthday—it was getting late and quite a few had early shifts the next day.

Dina was the last to go, saying goodbye and sending you another look as she pointedly stared at the arm rested behind you.

For a few minutes, you and Ellie just sat in silence, hearing the fire crackle and the sound of her softly breathing.

Then she spoke.

“How did you know that I’d like the moon rock?”

“Oh.” You blushed. “Don’t be mad. You left the closet door open the other day—you know, the one with all your space textbooks and everything. It was an educated guess.” 

“So nosy,” she tutted. 

“But you do like the rock?” 

She smiled. “Yes. Thank you.”

You reached forward and polished off the rest of the drink that Dina had made you, feeling the liquid fire slide down your throat and settle in your stomach. 

When you turned back, you could see Ellie staring at you, her auburn hair glowing in the firelight, her pupils blown wide, and her eyes slightly unfocused. She’d had more than one of the drinks that Dina had made, and it was really showing. 

“You’re so pretty.”

You froze. Out of all the things you expected her to say, that was nowhere on the list. The words had left Ellie’s lips like a compulsion, raw and honest. 

She hadn’t stopped looking at you, but her eyes were wider, her cheeks red. She hadn’t meant to say it, you realized. Now she was embarrassed and flustered, and it was all because of you. 

It was the boldness of being tipsy that made you move towards her, pulling your legs up until you were seated on your knees in front of her.

Ellie didn’t move apart from wetting her lips, her eyes darting from your eyes to your mouth. 

When you kissed her, she melted into you. The arm that had been draped over the couch behind you dropped to your back, your own hands sliding into her hair and tightening at the back of her neck.

She gasped as she felt your nails scrape against her, and you took the opportunity to lick into her open mouth, tasting the vodka on her tongue as it slid against yours.

To your surprise, her hands didn’t creep up your shirt or dip below the waist of your pants. They stayed static, one glommed onto your back while the other clutched your jaw as she let you kiss her, over and over again. 

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it, but there was something about it that felt different than your usual nighttime meetups. It felt more—vulnerable, almost, that Ellie was kissing you just to kiss you, not with some other agenda. 

The grandfather clock chimed, indicating that it was almost midnight. You pulled away from her for a second, panting as you caught your breath. A string of saliva suspended between your lips, snapping as you waved a hand through it and flushed.

“Sorry,” you whispered.

She just smiled.

“Is Joel going to be back soon?”

As if to punctuate your point, the front door banged open, the man in question pulling his jacket off and turning to see you both. You’d thankfully managed to get off her lap before he saw. 

“Oh!” he said, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I wasn’t expecting you two to still be awake.”

“Uh, yeah,” said Ellie, scratching the back of her neck. “We’ve just been…talking.”

“Good party?”

“Yeah.” 

“I’m glad. Tommy and Maria wish you a happy birthday, by the way. Though I’m sure you knew that.” 

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Well,” said Joel, giving a sigh that only old men could recreate, “I’m off to bed. You two don’t stay up too late, huh? You’ve still got work tomorrow.” 

“Goodnight,” you two chorused. 

Once Joel had disappeared into his room, you turned to look at her.

“That was close.” 

“Yeah.” Ellie laughed nervously, picking at her cuticles. “Um—do you want to move somewhere else?”

Something deep in your chest ached. Sure, you’d be okay with spending another hour or so feeling her hands on you as she made you finish, but a part of you had really liked just touching her for the sake of touching her—kissing her just because you could.

“Sure,” you said. “Just give me a chance to change.”

When you knocked after switching into more comfortable clothes, the door swung open to reveal a significantly more nervous looking Ellie than you’d seen in a while.

“Hi,” you said shyly.

“Hi.” 

You stepped into her, pressing a tentative kiss to the corner of her mouth. When she didn’t react, you pulled back.

“Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to stay over?” Ellie blurted out, her eyes wide and afraid. 

You balked. “Uh, what?”

“You don’t have to,” she said, her eyes dropping to the ground. “I’m sorry. I know we’re not like that. I just thought that—maybe, I dunno, just this once—”

“Yes,” you interrupted. “Please. I’d really like that.” 

“Right. Good. Okay.” She took a deep breath, then laced her fingers through yours to lead you to her bed.

When your mouth found hers again, it was just like on the couch—no intentionally rough or overtly sexual touches, just gentle brushes against your skin and the weight of fingers tangled in your hair as she pulled you further into her.

For the first time since you confessed, you didn’t sleep together. When you two finally tired out, you flopping down on the pillow first, Ellie’s head came to rest on the expanse of skin between your shoulder and your neck, your arms coming around her.

It was strange. For someone so deadly and tough, Ellie suddenly looked so small and fragile curled against you, the rise and fall of her chest synchronized with your breathing. 

“I’m sorry Cat was invited,” Ellie said, her voice muffled from where her face was pressed into your neck.

“What do you mean?”

“I should have told you what her name was. That must’ve been a nasty surprise.”

Her foresight and understanding made your heart ache, deeply. How was it that she could say all these things but not want anything more with you?

“It was alright,” you said. There was no conviction in your tone. “I wouldn’t have expected you to tell me.”

Ellie was silent for a few beats. You knew she was thinking, though; you could feel the flutter of her lashes against you as she blinked.

“How long do you think it’ll take for you to forget me?”

You paused. “What? What do you mean?”

Ellie shifted against you, one of her arms draped over your chest. “I mean, when you go back.”

“Ellie,” you chided, bringing your hand up so you could run your fingers through her hair. “Don’t be ridiculous. As if I’d ever just leave you behind. If I go back there, I’m finding some way to bring you with me. So, no. That’s not even a valid question. I’m never forgetting you.” 

In truth, you hadn’t even begun to consider what you’d do if—when—you were found. You’d been so focused on trying to fit into your new life here that your past had largely just faded into the back, shrinking in the horizon. What you did know, at least, was that even in some dystopian future without Ellie, she’d never be off of your mind.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” 

“I’m not,” you replied, tapping her shoulder. “I mean it. You’re stuck with me.” 

Her diaphragm vibrated as she let out a short laugh. “Oh, the horrors.” 

She fell silent as you kept threading your fingers through her hair, letting your nails scrape against her scalp. The hand that wasn’t draped over your chest had crept up, her thumb rubbing back and forth as she traced the outline of your jaw.

“I’m sorry,” she said suddenly. “I can be such a sad drunk sometimes. It’s pathetic.”

“It’s okay,” you soothed, your other hand lightly dancing up and down her back. “I think it’s sweet.”

She snorted. “You would.” 

Then, after a few more seconds of silence: “You really weren’t jealous?”

“I never said that.” 

“So she did make you jealous?”

You flicked her shoulder. “Fuck off. Of course she did. Happy?”

“Thrilled.” 

A few moments later, she spoke up again. 

“Can you promise me something?” Her voice was deceptively casual.

“Anything.” You’d give her anything she wanted.

“Promise me that you’ll take the first opportunity to go home,” she said softly. “Promise you won’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll take the first opportunity to go home as long as I get to have you around, too.” 

You couldn’t see it, but you knew she was rolling her eyes. “Not good enough.”

“You want me to leave that badly?” You weren’t sure if you should be hurt.

“Of course not,” she responded. “I just...I don’t expect you to wait around here for me. I don’t want you to. I want you to be safe.”

“I feel safe with you.”

“Will you just—fucking—say you’ll go?” Her voice sounded raw, tired. 

“Fine,” you said. “I promise.” 

Your words were empty. You couldn’t promise her that. She had to know that. But would it matter? If you never had to make that choice?

In retrospect, you weren’t sure when you drifted off. All you remembered was the warmth of Ellie gathered up in your arms, her measured breath blowing across your exposed neck as you felt the slow, marching rhythm of her heart.

~

When you awoke to the early morning sunbeams streaming in through the window and warming your face, Ellie was passed out cold on top of you. A few unruly strands of her auburn hair had ruffled upwards overnight, sticking to your cheek and threatening the seams of your lips. 

You’d never been happier.

As you thought, running your hand gently up and down the length of her spine, Ellie’s breath hitched.

You froze, thinking you must have woken her.

Then she made a quiet snort. She took another deep breath in, whistling as it went. Her next exhale was louder and caught in her nose. 

You did your best not to laugh enough to wake her.

Ellie snored, even though she wasn’t that loud. The part of you that was still intimidated by her was shrinking by the minute. If only you had known in the beginning that after a long day of bullying you she went back to her room to honk shoo the night away, you never would’ve let it bother you.

She jolted awake, blinking rapidly as she pulled away and looked up at you.

“What the fuck are you laughing about?” she said groggily. “It’s—” She twisted in your arms, squinting at her desk. “It’s 6 in the fucking morning. Shut up.” With that, she flopped back down on top of you, laying one arm over your torso so she could shove it the space under the pillow beside your head. 

“You shut up,” you heard yourself say. 

Ellie smacked your shoulder, not even bothering to lift her head. 

“You snore,” you said, quieter this time. 

“I don’t.”

“You literally do. I was there when it happened.” 

She was silent for a few moments. “Really?”

You pressed your lips to her forehead instead as you trembled from the laugh you were doing your best to rein in.

“Oh, god,” groaned Ellie. “That’s so embarrassing.” 

“I thought it was cute.”

“You think everything I do is cute.” 

“And what about it?”

You settled back in, wrapping your arms around Ellie as you tried to drift back off.

“Do you hear that?” 

Her voice was whispered.

“Hear what?”

“That sound.” 

You let go of her and sat up, your eyes unfocused as you tried your best to tune into whatever Ellie was talking about. Out of the corner of your vision you could see her staring at you with big, nervous eyes.

It took you a moment to notice it. No one could blame you, really. It was hardly a rarity to hear the sound of a plane when you grew up in Terranova. 

“That’s a plane, Ellie,” you said, reaching out to cup her face. “It’s fine.” 

“A plane?” She frowned, still blinking bleariness out of her eyes. “I’ve never heard one before. Joel told me that they stopped being used after the government officially fell.”

“That’s not true,” you corrected. “There’s some in—”

A puzzle piece clicked into place, and with it came a sense of underlying dread. But you shouldn’t be dreading it. It’s what you were hoping for after all, weren’t you? What you’d been praying for since you’d arrived?

“Let’s go outside and look,” you said, nudging her side. “I’m sure it’s nothing.” You were hoping it was nothing. 

Ellie followed you, pulling a throw blanket from her bed and draping it around her shoulders like a cape. She looked so cute like that. You wanted to bite her. Not, like, in a weird blood kink way. Just in a…you didn’t know how to describe it. Better leave it there. 

A lump formed in your throat.

Maybe you were wrong. Maybe this had nothing to do with you.

The air was tepid and pleasant against your bare skin as you two quietly opened the front door and crept onto the porch. The town was quiet. No one was awake at this hour, not unless they were down by the stables or doing night watch. 

There was a sliver of pink and orange hanging over the tops of the mountains, no doubt remnants of what had been a spectacular sunrise. There were still snowy caps on the highest peaks. You hadn’t known that mountains could stay so cold for so long until you’d come to Jackson.

The lump in your throat grew larger.

“Shit,” said Ellie, leaping down from the porch and onto the road. “Do you see this?”

The plane was no longer in sight, but the swirling papers that hadn’t been on the road the night before were left as evidence.

“They must’ve dropped them,” said Ellie excitedly, snatching one from the ground and bounding back up the steps so she was next to you. “What do you think this says?”

You smiled sadly. “Why don’t you read it?”

She unfolded the envelope, ripping open the top and dumping the contents out in her hand. 

“Oh.” 

It was a picture of you. It’d been taken months prior at your family’s Christmas party. You’d worn glittery silver eyeliner and curled your hair. The upper half of your body was in view, clad in a rich red fabric that landed right below your collarbones. A string of creamy white pearls were clasped around your neck, matching the teardrop pearls that hung delicately from your ears. 

HAVE YOU SEEN HER?

There was no other text, but you did notice a divet at the top right corner in the shape of a small oval. 

Terranovan security. Of course. 

Wordlessly, you pressed your thumb into the mold, holding it there for a second as the parchment recorded your print.

Then a paragraph formed at the bottom, ink slowly leaking into the paper.

COME TO THE COORDINATES LISTED BELOW AT EXACTLY NOON, MAY 15TH. A LIFT WILL BE WAITING TO ESCORT YOU.

You’d been found. 

final a/n: sorry not sorry this was the original cliffhanger that i was planning for part 4 all along. you guys are incredible for still sticking around and reading even though this is getting lengthy as hell. anyway i hope you guys enjoyed this sort of different side of ellie before we reach the final act. the plot is abt to reach its peak and i’m hellaaa excited to share it with you. okok let me know what you think! it might take me around the same time it took me to finish part 4 to get part 5 out considering how sick i am/how much i have on my plate, but i promise it’s coming :))

[taylor-titmouse]

2023 Book Retrospective

it's pretty much the end of the year, and i've never done this before, but i wanted to take a look at what i managed to do in 2023 and share some of my thoughts on it! i published five novellas this year (though i didn't actually write one of them) plus the public release of the demo and first huge update to You're A Mage on Monsterfuck Mountain. that's a lot!

so let's dig into all that. this will contain some spoilers for the books, because it's hard to talk about them without talking about what's in 'em, so maybe check out my itchio first and grab anything you missed! (but also.... perhaps wait until this weekend before you buy anything. shh.)

You're A Mage on Monsterfuck Mountain, released in March

TECHNICALLY, the demo was finished and available on patreon around the end of last year, and didn't become public until I'd finished the garden update, which i did finish this year. and what a massive fuckin THING that was. 60k words! 50 illustrations!! the biggest thing i ever put out and technically finished, and the beginning of a move to being less afraid of writing "weird" sex. there was so much bee sex in it. arguably too much bee sex in it. which i'd left entirely til last to do which meant i was writing nothing but bee sex for weeks.

this was the first time i let myself really indulge in writing dubcon for the bad endings, and it was a lot of fun. very often it was more interesting than the deliberately horny routes, because it meant writing a way to be put in the situation, and also making it hot every time. i'm very much of the philosophy with dubcon that even if the situation wasn't Ideal for the character, they're still going to get good sex out of it. i believe i put it at another point as, i'm here to write the pleasure of helplessness, not suffering. to that point, the dubcon endings for the armor, the dryad, and the queen bee were my favorite bits from this.

the fact i never got a second update out this year is a big regret. i finished a bunch of the routes for it, but ultimately i wanted to have things i could release! shortly after publishing the demo and update, i officially put my webcomic on hiatus so i could focus more on my graphic novel, and also spend more time on my writing. having that extra time is probably the only reason i was able to write as much as i did this year, and i didn't want to spend it toiling away on a serial project i couldn't release for months at a time.

which leads us to the release of my first novella of the year...

House of the Risen King, released in April

now this is when i truly said "i'm just going to write what i think is hot and interesting and not worry about how it's perceived!!" and went whole hog on exhibitionism and monster dubcon cult horror. house was mostly inspired by the ending of Hereditary, and was originally going to be more poltergiesty and played more straight, with vee being harangued by a bunch of horny ghost-demons and nothing more sinister than that. but i've had cult shit percolating at the back of my brain forever, and i wanted to play with ideas i'd first developed in shadow in the shelves with rituals and shadows, so here we are! the scene of hettie fingering vee in the bathtub while vee's god-fucked out of her mind is my favorite.

fun fact, the original seed for this book was actually going to feature max and mortis, my photographer/model couple (that link goes to cohost because i wasn't posting here yet when i was drawing them the most). the idea was they'd go do an urban exploration shoot and mortis would start getting fucked by a ghost while max filmed it, but the more time i spent with those characters the less i wanted to involve the supernatural. which meant i never wrote their book, and had to make a new character to do the idea. and then it wasn't even that idea anymore.

that's writing, folks

Roger Crenshaw: The Dogs at Duskfall, released in June

... which makes it ironic that the next book is one i didn't even write! r/l monroe @mortalityplays has been my friend for years, and was my editor for a long time (until he got a REAL JOB and didn't have TIME to edit anymore. sobs, cries, kicks a stone and walks into the distance). he's also always been an incredible writer, and for my birthday this year i asked him to write me something. i asked with the expectation of a little short story about our old tabletop RP characters, or a fanfic scene for one of my books he'd edited.

and then he wrote me 20,000+ words digging into the character of roger crenshaw and who he is that perfectly summed him up and tied all his stories together, such that i don't think i ever need to write another one. he did it, he wrote the perfect ending to roger. AND he did it using my favorite of his ocs from our tabletop campaign, AND there's some really hot and sweet smut in it. AND HE DID IT IN LIKE TWO WEEKS.

i loved it so much that i asked if i could illustrate and publish it as an official novella, and to my delight he agreed, and it was so so nice to collaborate with him on it. even if it meant beating our heads against the wall for 30 minutes about the placement of certain images on the page.

this was a great tragedy. i'd drawn the vagina one first, but an image earlier in the book had to be moved, which affected the placement of everything else. the vagina image had been perfectly at the start of a new page, and then suddenly it wasn't. so i had to do the penis one instead for better placement. tragic!!!

it's hard to pick a favorite scene in something written entirely, lovingly for you. how can i choose between the characters' pitch perfect semantic arguments on the nature of folk lore, the millenium princess-ass memory hopping, or the really really hot smut? i can't. i love it all. thank you r/l for being so good at what you do and writing this for me, i'll treasure it always.

The Dragon Double Feature, released in May

apparently this came out in may, and not july. i don't know why i've been convinced this came out in july. oh well i can't be bothered to insert it on top of the roger one.

anyway. THIS book. this book exists because i believe at the time i was a bit blocked, and wanted to just write SOMETHING. for a long time i've had the idea of a dragon wrecking a princess' wedding and fucking her in front of the congregation just sitting in my back pocket. it was the 'i know i could just slam this out if i wanted. i don't have to care about it it's just sex and then it's done' fallback idea, and i finally did it!

and then it was too short. i don't like the idea of publishing anything less than 10k words for full price, so i was like. okay. alright. i've always thought fucking an eastern dragon would be hot and have this other idea i was going to use for roger (back when i had an idea for every monster possible for roger), let's just write that. kenta is only kenta because i took a poll for what body type i should pair with a dragon (he was 'big boy', i think the other options were twink, older woman, and average woman). and i was also Really into the movie inu-oh at the time, which is probably obvious with kenta being a blind musician, lol.

the musician and the waterfall was tougher to write because i didn't have a clear vision of how it should end or even how they should fuck (the mechanics of fucking long noodle dragon have challenged me for years) but i'm ultimately pleased with it. it would have been a long time since i wrote something sincerely romantic, and it was nice to go back to it. i'm a HUGE romantic at heart.

both stories are pretty much one extended scene so it's hard to pick a favorite moment from them, but i will say i'm very pleased with how i approached writing the musician and the waterfall, specifically in the challenge i set myself to never use visual description kenta couldn't reasonably guess. writing from the POV of a blind man made me focus in on different senses and ways to describe them.

this book is also, as of right now, my best seller. which is great! i love that for me.

The Dragon Double Feature 2, released in July

okay i guess THIS one released in july.

anyway i got stricken with the curse with this one. a lot of people wanted me to write a sequel, but i wasn't going to. and every time i say i'm not going to do something, i end up doing it. it's so annoying. this one only happened because i wanted to write a SHORT! a SHORT extra for patreon describing kenta and wakatake's first time having sex as humans.

and then i wrote too much preamble describing their time on the beach. and then i got emotionally invested in unpacking their actual relationship, and also added a third character with mrs arakawa, and had to bring it all together into a story that was coherent and had something to say about the way they loved and ALSO ended in a THREESOME because WHATS THE POINT OF INTRODUCING A THIRD CHARACTER if they aren't all going to FUCK TOGETHER!!

it was tough. but i'm really, really happy with it in the end, and think it's one of the best things i've ever written. my favorite scene is definitely them playing with the hermit crab on the beach. metaphors babie.

the gundrid/eveline story is fine too. lmao. i NEVER PLANNED TO WRITE ANOTHER WITH THEM!! i only did it because the idea of publishing a sequel to a story from a double feature without writing a sequel to the other half of the feature was insane. and now eveline and gundrid are some of my most beloved characters, to the point of writing another book featuring them...

The Tenebrous Tower, released November

yet another book i'm pretty sure i was like 'i don't need to write this. this character doesn't work for a story on his own, what am i ever gonna do with him' and then i dumped a bunch of fantasy characters into a jar with him and suddenly i had a story. I ONLY MADE ROMICK BECAUSE I WANTED TO DRAW FUCKED UP WIZARD PORN AND MY ONLY OTHER OPTION WAS A GRANDPA!!!

anyway i started writing it as something to do on vacation, and it was just gonna be a bunch of dungeon bdsm vignettes until i hit on a throughline and suddenly i had a story and an emotional arc and damn i did it again. i did it again. i have a book.

i was expecting this one not to do very well because it had multiple prerequisites, but because i am a master of my craft i made sure to write it so you didn't need to read those. and then people read it without reading those. so it worked out anyway and now it's done just about as well as dragons 2. the people love romick, but they especially love the idea of him being destroyed. maybe someday. maybe someday. (except on patreon, where it's already happened)

the final vignette with the doll is, of course my favorite. i think it was a lot of people's favorites.

............................................

and that's everything i published this year! honorable mention to my novel starbuster, which i'd written most of last year, then spent all of october this year revising with the intent of finishing it, only to run out of steam by the time i was done revising it. so it's exactly where i left it last year. just better written. god it would be nice to finish that fuckin thing next year.

my goals for 2024 are, of course: release more books!! i have a big project i've been working on illustrating for the past month that i'd like to release in january, and i've also been working on a spin-off one-shot with mrs arakawa and an oni. i think this coming year i want to Try to blast through some of the one-off ideas i developed this year so they'll quit banging cowbells in my brain. like the sleeping garden. it makes me insane i never actually wrote the sleeping garden.

anyway if you actually made it to the end of this, thank you!! if you've bought all of these books, double thank you!!! i've been able to pay my rent and expenses just with my adult work this year, and it's been amazing and fun and super fulfilling. thank you for supporting me in 2023, here's to a horny 2024!!

[its-time-to-write]

Hi love! Im obsessed with your writing. They actually make my whole day!!

I was wondering if you could do something with like protective!Jamie? Like maybe they’re out at a club and some guy won’t leave her alone!

Whatever you like? Thank you!

I did it! I didn’t know what gif to put with this. Wasn’t sure I’d finish it this weekend, but I got it done! I have finals next week, which either means I’m going to have a bunch of time or none at all. And again, thank you for being so kind. Many anonymous requests are not. 💚🍊

don’t go yet

Roy only lets Jamie go to the club when Richmond has won, which is why you’re both dressed up tonight. 

“You can have two drinks. Not fucking four, not fucking three, two. And if you fucking go over, your girlfriend will fucking tell me,” Roy had said.

Jamie had relayed this to you, more than a tad scandalized, but you just shrugged and said, “Roy’s not wrong.”

So now you’re at the club and Jamie’s had one drink that he’s been making last way too long, but he’s finally downed it and you’ve offered to grab him another one. Dani’s in the middle of some hilarious story about his old team, involving shaving cream, an unsuspecting coach, and… snails? Anyway, Jamie’s deeply invested in whatever it is which is why you’re at the bar waiting for your drinks and he’s sitting down. 

You’re contemplating what you want to do to Jamie once you get home, when an unfamiliar body sidles up to the space next to you.

You half-turn away to give him more space, but he just moves closer so you give him a look. The man, oblivious, says, “Hello gorgeous, name’s Max. What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

Any distaste you had been stifling out of politeness ends. “I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend,” you reply shortly. 

Max makes a show of surveying the room. “Don’t see him,” he says, “so I suppose you’re fair game.”

Your drinks appear, and you grab them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hey now, I’m only trying to be fucking friendly. Your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” He’s now blocking your path back to Jamie. You try to dodge around him, but he won’t let you. 

Max does not like that, and he snarls, “Don’t be such a bitch, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind me having a turn, especially if he lets you out of the house looking like that.”

Your words catch in your throat, and before you can look around for help, there’s a tap on Max’s shoulder. 

“Oi mate,” says Jamie, voice calm but eyes simmering with rage, “pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”

Max turns to assess Jamie and you dart past him, behind your boyfriend. “And what’s it to you, shithead?”

Oh god. The last thing Jamie needs is to get into a fight tonight. You know that Nate would love nothing more than to bench Jamie whenever an opportunity presents itself. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “let it go.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at you. “I’m her boyfriend, shithead.”

Max’s eyes betray a hint of surprise, then before you or Jamie can do anything he moves to shove Jamie. Jamie tenses up for a push that never happens, because Isaac has shown up from out of nowhere and has grabbed Max from behind. 

“Time to go, bruv,” Isaac says as he and Dani haul Max away.

Jamie fists are still clenched as he turns to you. Despite the anger on his face, his voice is gentle. “You alright, love?” 

You nod wordlessly and hand Jamie his drink. He takes both of them and puts them down. Your brain is playing catch-up because everything happened so fast.

“You wanna go?” he asks.

You nod again then shake your head. “No!” you protest, “This is your night out!”

Jamie’s hands are on your waist now, and you’re a little grateful because it’s grounding. You’re still reeling a bit.

“Babe,” he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, and you are too. And don’t fuckin’ lie, it ain’t gonna work. You’ve got little circles under your eyes. Let’s go home.”

You shut your mouth and sigh. That boy. He knows you too well. 

On your way out he says, “Can we do face masks? Can feel me face losing its sexy glow.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. Only Jamie can make a shit night into something good.

[magicalbuttertarts]

Part 1 ♥︎ Part 2 ♥︎ Part 3

Damian Priest x f/Reader (AU)

WWE Masterlist

Just like all my other stories, this has not been proofread, but please enjoy.

Warnings: no sex for now. Mentions a bit of smutty stuff, but nothing crazy. Eventually smut. A bit of swearing.

WC: 957

©️magicalbuttertarts 2024: do not repost or translate my work. This is the only place I post my work.

AN: I started back at work this week, after being off for 2 weeks. I hope to update more, but I can really only write on the weekends.

After that night, I kept going back to her place.

Just standing off in the distance, but making sure she was safe.

I found out a lot about her this way, even though she did seem to enjoy talking to me.

I found she likes to go out with friends almost every other night. Even just for dinner or drinks.

Each Friday, they pick a club to go too, or if someone they knew was having a party they would go to that.

I had to control my anger when I saw her dancing with some random guy at a club.

But when he was indicating that she should go with him, she shook her no.

No matter how much the guy persisted, he went home without her.

I would stay further back as the group would walk home on a nice night.

"You should have gone home with him." One of her friends would say to her.

"Wasn't my type." She said, as she shrugged her shoulders.

"Yeah, her type is the owner of that club." A rather, giggly friend said.

"Shut it." Came her reply, but made my ears perk up.

"He was rather handsome, and did you see how tall he was?"

"Did you see his tattoos?"

"Did you see his smile?"

My ego got a bit bigger as I heard them talk about me, but I only focused on what she said.

"He saved my life the last time we were there."

The gasps that came from her group of friends and them demanding for her tell them what happened.

She did, but leaving out how I am a vampire.

"He walked you home, and you didn't invite him inside, to say thank you?"

"He told me he had to get back to the club, and I was tired," She was cut off by a friend.

"You wish you invited him in, huh?"

I waited to hear what she had to say.

"I do. I really do. Fuck, why didn't I invite him in?"

Maybe because I am always vampire my dear, and you don't and still don't know my intentions with you.

I left the small group, satisfied that they would be getting home safe.

As I was back towards the club, I just knew deep down inside that she would be back to my club, and soon.

I kept my distance the moment I realized how creepy I was being.

I am following her around in my spare time, just to make sure she is okay, and I wasn't the only one who noticed.

"You know you have found your mate right?" Rhea told me as she was scrolling through her phone, the two of us sitting in my office going over what still needs to be done for the night.

"Rhea, I don't believe in that true love, soul mate bs, and you know it."

"Yes, but doesn't mean it isn't true. Let's go over the checklist of soul mates for us vampires."

"I don't have time for this." I tried to say, but Rhea being Rhea, she ignored me.

"Number one, you smelled her unique scent."

"We have strong, enhanced smell." I pointed out.

"Number two, hearing her say your name for the first time, made you actually feel alive. Number three, you are willing to murder anyone for her, which you have mind you."

"He was scum." I informed her.

"Number four, she is all you can think about. You had someone personally hand delivere an invite to your club."

"Lastly, number five, you will not be able to sleep with anyone else, as you will only want her, your mate."

"Oh please, I do not see how that isn't possible."

Rhea stood up as I said that.

"Just find one to sleep with, and you will see I am right Damian."

As she left my office, it dawned on me that I haven't slept with anyone since I saw her for the first time.

I have to rectify that.

Ariana was screaming her head off as I pounded into her from behind. Not wanting to see her face as my mind filled with only her face.

I pulled completely out of the woman I hired, and collapsed on my bed, frustrated that Rhea was right.

She tried to snuggled into my side but I told her to go.

"But, you always want to cuddle." Ariana told me.

"Leave. Now." I snapped.

I didn't bother to watch her get dressed, but she did rush to get away from my presence.

Probably concerned about becoming my next meal.

I got dressed after a quick shower, and walked down to the club, already a massive lineup outside the door.

The music was pounding in my ears as I walked into the club, people moving out of the way, but then I smelled her unique scent, lavender and peppermint.

She is here.

It didn't take long for me to see her dancing with some friends, guys once more trying to dance with her.

She must have felt me staring at her, because she looked up and stared into my eyes, and I couldn't help but walk towards her, pushing past people just to get to her.

She turned around as I got to her, I placed my hands on her hips, as they were moving back and forth. I pulled her flushed against my body, her ass moving against my hardening cock.

I heard her heartbeat pick up as we danced in the middle of the dance floor. Her blood pumping in her veins, making me lean down and moan into her year.

The poor, fucking losers looked on, wondering how I get to dance with her.

She is fucking mine.

Damian Priest Taglist: @madhatterbri @terrortwinunicorn @jstarr86

Tag list: @lghockey @nicoleveno14 @legit9thlunaticwarrior @hooks-martin @madhatterbri @wwenhlimagines @melissahausen @tahiri-veyla