Saturn.

𝜗𝜚 s!her. melancholy is the soul’s silence.

[clearsaturns]

✺｡⋆ meet my blog!

she!her. estp-t. hopeless romantic. thriller movies nerd. writing when my mind feels like flying. english it’s not my first language. obsessed with movies/tv shows/books and spotify. request is always open for you (but you must be kind and have patience).

masterlist. letterboxd. goodreads.

[balletteens]

࿔ ｡ﾟsteve harrington headcanons.

steve harrington x girlfriend! reader.

warnings: fluff. a little tiny spoiler from season 5 (barely). make-out sessions. steve being whipped, not much. english isn’t my first language so im sorry if there are any mistakes!

a/n: if u feel like making a request for steve harrington, you’re totally welcome to!

masterlist

𓆰 Steve is the type to know immediately when you feel overstimulated at a party, and would even ask if he can get a little closer, scared of making you feel uncomfortable, and knowing that you need your time and space.

𓆰 Steve is the type to try to change your mind about going on crawls with him and the guys. He knows there’s no way he could make it, but he tries anyway by distracting you with kisses and hugs.

𓆰 Steve is the type to be all over you whenever he can. This surprises almost everyone in the group, because they never thought Steve Harrington would be so whipped (except for Robin, who obviously knew from the very beginning how whipped and in love he is with you).

𓆰 Steve is the type to lose his mind completely when he finds out you could be in danger. He would do everything and more to keep you safe, even if it meant dying for you. Oh, he would definitely do it in a heartbeat.

𓆰 Steve is the type to immediately go to you and make sure he knows your favorite song, just in case Vecna goes after you. He would start asking questions like what your favorite color or favorite movie is, while caressing your hair and looking at you, trying to hide his worries, and then ask for the song.

𓆰 Steve is the type to get into fights for you or one of the kids, and then sit with a pout, waiting for you to clean his bloody face.

𓆰 Steve is the type to spend the first time at night cuddled up together while you play with his hair (you being the only one allowed to touch it), and since that night, he can’t fall asleep as easily if you aren’t there with him.

𓆰 Steve is the type to love going for late-night swims in his pool with you. It would probably start with the two of you messing around and then making out in a corner of the pool.

𓆰 Steve is the type to show up at your house with flowers, ready to apologize because you’ve been distant all day (even though he didn’t do anything) because he is afraid of losing the best thing he has.

𓆰 Steve is the type to always fall asleep while watching movies, with his head resting on your chest and his hands wrapped around your waist. And all of it thanks to you playing with his hair.

𓆰 Steve is the type to frown when you call him by his name, because you always use pet names with him. However, he would try to hide it and fail miserably.

𓆰 Steve is the type to love make-out sessions in his car with you. Every once in a while, you both would leave the guys talking about plans and sneak off to his car for a while.

𓆰 Steve is the type to buy a camera and end up with 98% of the photos having you in them.

𓆰 Steve is the type to kiss you every chance he gets. He could be cooking, look up at you for a second, and it would be impossible for him not to get close and leave a quick kiss on your lips.

[balletteens]

࿔ ｡ﾟi’m here.

Steve Harrington x munson!reader. wc: 2k.

summary: You lost your brother Eddie. Now, you can’t avoid the thought of losing your boyfriend Steve while you are in the Upside Down.

warnings: slight spoilers of season 5 vol 2. mentions of death. pet names. angst and fluff. english isn’t my first language (so sorry if there are any mistakes).

masterlist

The moment you lost your brother, you felt a part of yourself shatter. Your brother, your other half, your soulmate, was gone, and you knew he would never come back to you. No matter how much you cried, how much you begged whoever might be listening, or how hard you fought against believing it. Eddie wasn't coming back. He was gone. Forever.

Days, weeks, months passed, but reality never felt entirely real to you. You had always been known for your sarcasm, your jokes at the wrong time, or your reckless plans, so putting on that mask in front of everyone had been relatively easy. You wouldn't let anyone truly see what you were going through.

You wouldn't let anyone notice how your heart, during missions, stopped every time someone took a more dangerous risk than they should have.

But that was perfect. There was no time to waste on a girl who couldn't stop grieving her dead brother.

Everything was fine. You had managed to maintain that carefree, sarcastic, reckless personality. Until you ended up with your boyfriend, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy in the Upside Down. Exactly in the Hawkins laboratories.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Dustin had taken a different path, while Steve and you decided to go the opposite way, searching for some kind of solution. Something that could give you an answer to everything that was happening, and how to get Holly back.

The air felt tense, but it wasn't even close to being about you and your boyfriend standing in that place.

You wished it had been.

Since entering the Upside Down, you had been quieter than usual. More tense, overthinking more than you wanted. Right there. It was in that place you had last seen your brother, and you couldn't stop silently begging to get out of there as soon as possible.

Steve walked behind you. You felt his footsteps slow, lacking determination, but it wasn't because of the place, it was because of you. He was trying to figure out what could be going through your mind right now. Wondering what he could have done to deserve your silence. Always worried about you, about your well‑being.

The flashlight in your hand showed you the way, though you weren't really paying much attention to where you were going. You kept walking through hallways that felt endless, trying to focus on the only sound that kept you even a little calm.

His breathing.

The light illuminating the path began to fail, flickering again and again, and your breathing grew heavier. "S‑Steve...? Wh‑What?" You shook the flashlight desperately in your hands, trying to make it work again.

Every time the light faded, you felt your heart slow and grow heavier. Everything worsened when the light disappeared completely. Your feet felt trapped to the floor, your hands sweaty, and your mind racing faster than you thought possible.

Steve tried to find your hands, tried to pull you close to his body and calm you down like he always did, but he couldn't reach you. As if something had pushed you both apart, meters away. "I'm here, baby. I promise." His breathing inevitably quickened, his voice coming out more desperate than he wanted. He needed to show you calm and safety, but he couldn't if he didn't believe it himself.

You scratched at your eyes, feeling like they weren't open thanks to the darkness, like it was all a nightmare, but nothing changed. "S‑Steve..." you murmured weakly. Your breathing grew faster, irregular.

It was inevitable. As if it had all been planned. You felt a voice screaming inside your head. Spitting with rage that your brother's death was your fault. And now it was Steve's turn. The only person who loved you. It would all be your fault. Again.

"Yeah, baby, yeah," he stretched his hands out, trying to hear you like it was air. "Keep talking to me so I can get to you, alright? I'm right here, keep talking, sweetheart."

The voices grew louder, more present, more real. They told you Steve wouldn't last much longer by your side. Suddenly, that carefree mask was gone. All you felt was the desperation and fear you had tried so hard to hide from everyone. From him.

Your eyes filled with tears, and not long after, slow tears began to fall. "I‑I'm scared, Steve." You tried to hug yourself, searching for comfort, but you felt stuck, even immobile.

You heard him call your name with pain, finally reaching your hands. Immediately you felt him draw you closer, one arm wrapping around your back and the other pulling your head against his neck. "You're okay, you're safe. I'm here." He repeated it until you believed it, but it wasn't just for you. He needed to believe it too. He would say it as many times as it took for both of you to understand.

More tears slid down your cheeks, refusing to stop any time soon. You pressed your hands against his chest, needing to make sure he was really there. Steve dropped the bag from his back, fumbling for the spare flashlight he had carried. As soon as he managed to turn it on, he looked back into your eyes, now red from crying. He saw you trembling, your shoulders moving uncontrollably, your teeth biting down on your lower lip harder than necessary —a habit you couldn't stop no matter how much Steve tried to stop you—.

Clumsily, he set the flashlight on the floor, rushing back to you, his hands cupping your cheeks. He wiped your tears carefully, not wanting to hurt you, while you struggled to steady your breathing, though it felt impossible. "Not you, Steve, please..." you whispered through sobs.

"What do you mean, baby? Not me what?" Steve frowned, trying to wipe away the tears. His hazel eyes showered with worry for you. Actually the same worry he had felt the day you lost your brother.

"You can't leave me too," you cried, clutching his hair and neck tighter than usual, as if you needed to make sure he wouldn't slip away from your hands. "I cannot lose you, I‑I just can't." Your breathing refused to stabilize, but you knew Steve's gentle touch on your cheek was helping.

Steve's hands trembled against your cheeks, but his voice stayed steady, even if his heart was breaking with yours.

"You won't lose me," he whispered, forehead pressed against yours. "Not now. Not ever."

The words were fragile, almost desperate, but they wrapped around you like a shield. For a moment, the voices in your head quieted, replaced by the rhythm of his breath, the warmth of his skin, the undeniable truth that he was here. Alive. With you.

The Upside Down seemed to pulse around you, shadows stretching, walls breathing, but Steve's presence anchored you. He kissed the crown of your head, lingering there as if he could pour every ounce of strength he had into you.

"I already lost Eddie," you choked out, the name slicing through the air like glass. "I can't– Steve, I can't survive losing you too."

Steve closed his eyes, and for a second, you felt his pain mirror yours. He had seen you crumble once before, the day Eddie never came back. He had held you through nights when silence was louder than screams. He knew this wasn't just fear. It was grief clawing its way back into your chest.

"You won’t," he said softly, but firmly. "I'm not leaving you. I'll fight every damn monster in this place if I have to. I'll fight the whole world if it means staying with you."

Your sobs slowed, though tears still fell. His words didn't erase the ache, but they stitched something fragile inside you: a reminder that love could survive even in the darkest places.

The light from the spare flashlight flickered across his face, catching the determination in his hazel eyes. You realized then that he wasn't just saying it for you. He needed to believe it too.

You leaned into him, forehead against his chest, listening to the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Steve..." your voice cracked, raw. "I don't know how to keep going. I feel like I'm drowning every day."

His hand slid down to hold yours, squeezing tight. "Then let me be the one to pull you up. That's what love is, isn't it? Not pretending we're fine, but holding each other when we're not."

You shook your head, tears spilling again. "Steve I don’t think I have enough strength to keep doing this. I'm don’t feel strong like you."

Steve gave a short, broken laugh, pressing his lips to your temple. "Sweetheart, I'm not strong because I don't break. I'm strong because I break and still keep moving. That's all any of us can do. And you... you've already survived the worst. That makes you stronger than you'll ever believe."

Your breath hitched, guilt clawing at your chest. "But what if I lose you? What if the world takes you away like it took Eddie?"

Steve's thumb brushed your cheek, his smile trembling but tender. "Then you'll keep living. Because that's what Eddie would want. That's what I would want. You don't stop because we're gone. You carry us. In your laughter, in your stubbornness, in the way you never give up even when you think you should."

You clutched his jacket, sobbing harder. "I don't want to carry you. I want you here. I need you here."

His forehead pressed against yours again, his voice breaking but resolute. "And I am here. Right now. Breathing, fighting, loving you. That's all we've got. We’ve got this moment and I swear to you, I'll fight for every single one we get."

The flashlight flickered again, shadows crawling along the walls, but Steve didn't flinch. He held you tighter, his warmth shielding you from the cold of the Upside Down.

"Promise me," you whispered, voice trembling. "Promise me you'll stay."

Steve kissed your forehead, lingering there as if he could pour every ounce of his soul into you. "I promise. As long as I'm breathing, I'm yours."

[balletteens]

࿔ ｡ﾟi’m here.

Steve Harrington x munson!reader. wc: 2k.

summary: You lost your brother Eddie. Now, you can’t avoid the thought of losing your boyfriend Steve while you are in the Upside Down.

warnings: slight spoilers of season 5 vol 2. mentions of death. pet names. angst and fluff. english isn’t my first language (so sorry if there are any mistakes).

masterlist

The moment you lost your brother, you felt a part of yourself shatter. Your brother, your other half, your soulmate, was gone, and you knew he would never come back to you. No matter how much you cried, how much you begged whoever might be listening, or how hard you fought against believing it. Eddie wasn't coming back. He was gone. Forever.

Days, weeks, months passed, but reality never felt entirely real to you. You had always been known for your sarcasm, your jokes at the wrong time, or your reckless plans, so putting on that mask in front of everyone had been relatively easy. You wouldn't let anyone truly see what you were going through.

You wouldn't let anyone notice how your heart, during missions, stopped every time someone took a more dangerous risk than they should have.

But that was perfect. There was no time to waste on a girl who couldn't stop grieving her dead brother.

Everything was fine. You had managed to maintain that carefree, sarcastic, reckless personality. Until you ended up with your boyfriend, Dustin, Jonathan, and Nancy in the Upside Down. Exactly in the Hawkins laboratories.

Nancy, Jonathan, and Dustin had taken a different path, while Steve and you decided to go the opposite way, searching for some kind of solution. Something that could give you an answer to everything that was happening, and how to get Holly back.

The air felt tense, but it wasn't even close to being about you and your boyfriend standing in that place.

You wished it had been.

Since entering the Upside Down, you had been quieter than usual. More tense, overthinking more than you wanted. Right there. It was in that place you had last seen your brother, and you couldn't stop silently begging to get out of there as soon as possible.

Steve walked behind you. You felt his footsteps slow, lacking determination, but it wasn't because of the place, it was because of you. He was trying to figure out what could be going through your mind right now. Wondering what he could have done to deserve your silence. Always worried about you, about your well‑being.

The flashlight in your hand showed you the way, though you weren't really paying much attention to where you were going. You kept walking through hallways that felt endless, trying to focus on the only sound that kept you even a little calm.

His breathing.

The light illuminating the path began to fail, flickering again and again, and your breathing grew heavier. "S‑Steve...? Wh‑What?" You shook the flashlight desperately in your hands, trying to make it work again.

Every time the light faded, you felt your heart slow and grow heavier. Everything worsened when the light disappeared completely. Your feet felt trapped to the floor, your hands sweaty, and your mind racing faster than you thought possible.

Steve tried to find your hands, tried to pull you close to his body and calm you down like he always did, but he couldn't reach you. As if something had pushed you both apart, meters away. "I'm here, baby. I promise." His breathing inevitably quickened, his voice coming out more desperate than he wanted. He needed to show you calm and safety, but he couldn't if he didn't believe it himself.

You scratched at your eyes, feeling like they weren't open thanks to the darkness, like it was all a nightmare, but nothing changed. "S‑Steve..." you murmured weakly. Your breathing grew faster, irregular.

It was inevitable. As if it had all been planned. You felt a voice screaming inside your head. Spitting with rage that your brother's death was your fault. And now it was Steve's turn. The only person who loved you. It would all be your fault. Again.

"Yeah, baby, yeah," he stretched his hands out, trying to hear you like it was air. "Keep talking to me so I can get to you, alright? I'm right here, keep talking, sweetheart."

The voices grew louder, more present, more real. They told you Steve wouldn't last much longer by your side. Suddenly, that carefree mask was gone. All you felt was the desperation and fear you had tried so hard to hide from everyone. From him.

Your eyes filled with tears, and not long after, slow tears began to fall. "I‑I'm scared, Steve." You tried to hug yourself, searching for comfort, but you felt stuck, even immobile.

You heard him call your name with pain, finally reaching your hands. Immediately you felt him draw you closer, one arm wrapping around your back and the other pulling your head against his neck. "You're okay, you're safe. I'm here." He repeated it until you believed it, but it wasn't just for you. He needed to believe it too. He would say it as many times as it took for both of you to understand.

More tears slid down your cheeks, refusing to stop any time soon. You pressed your hands against his chest, needing to make sure he was really there. Steve dropped the bag from his back, fumbling for the spare flashlight he had carried. As soon as he managed to turn it on, he looked back into your eyes, now red from crying. He saw you trembling, your shoulders moving uncontrollably, your teeth biting down on your lower lip harder than necessary —a habit you couldn't stop no matter how much Steve tried to stop you—.

Clumsily, he set the flashlight on the floor, rushing back to you, his hands cupping your cheeks. He wiped your tears carefully, not wanting to hurt you, while you struggled to steady your breathing, though it felt impossible. "Not you, Steve, please..." you whispered through sobs.

"What do you mean, baby? Not me what?" Steve frowned, trying to wipe away the tears. His hazel eyes showered with worry for you. Actually the same worry he had felt the day you lost your brother.

"You can't leave me too," you cried, clutching his hair and neck tighter than usual, as if you needed to make sure he wouldn't slip away from your hands. "I cannot lose you, I‑I just can't." Your breathing refused to stabilize, but you knew Steve's gentle touch on your cheek was helping.

Steve's hands trembled against your cheeks, but his voice stayed steady, even if his heart was breaking with yours.

"You won't lose me," he whispered, forehead pressed against yours. "Not now. Not ever."

The words were fragile, almost desperate, but they wrapped around you like a shield. For a moment, the voices in your head quieted, replaced by the rhythm of his breath, the warmth of his skin, the undeniable truth that he was here. Alive. With you.

The Upside Down seemed to pulse around you, shadows stretching, walls breathing, but Steve's presence anchored you. He kissed the crown of your head, lingering there as if he could pour every ounce of strength he had into you.

"I already lost Eddie," you choked out, the name slicing through the air like glass. "I can't– Steve, I can't survive losing you too."

Steve closed his eyes, and for a second, you felt his pain mirror yours. He had seen you crumble once before, the day Eddie never came back. He had held you through nights when silence was louder than screams. He knew this wasn't just fear. It was grief clawing its way back into your chest.

"You won’t," he said softly, but firmly. "I'm not leaving you. I'll fight every damn monster in this place if I have to. I'll fight the whole world if it means staying with you."

Your sobs slowed, though tears still fell. His words didn't erase the ache, but they stitched something fragile inside you: a reminder that love could survive even in the darkest places.

The light from the spare flashlight flickered across his face, catching the determination in his hazel eyes. You realized then that he wasn't just saying it for you. He needed to believe it too.

You leaned into him, forehead against his chest, listening to the uneven rhythm of his heartbeat.

"Steve..." your voice cracked, raw. "I don't know how to keep going. I feel like I'm drowning every day."

His hand slid down to hold yours, squeezing tight. "Then let me be the one to pull you up. That's what love is, isn't it? Not pretending we're fine, but holding each other when we're not."

You shook your head, tears spilling again. "Steve I don’t think I have enough strength to keep doing this. I'm don’t feel strong like you."

Steve gave a short, broken laugh, pressing his lips to your temple. "Sweetheart, I'm not strong because I don't break. I'm strong because I break and still keep moving. That's all any of us can do. And you... you've already survived the worst. That makes you stronger than you'll ever believe."

Your breath hitched, guilt clawing at your chest. "But what if I lose you? What if the world takes you away like it took Eddie?"

Steve's thumb brushed your cheek, his smile trembling but tender. "Then you'll keep living. Because that's what Eddie would want. That's what I would want. You don't stop because we're gone. You carry us. In your laughter, in your stubbornness, in the way you never give up even when you think you should."

You clutched his jacket, sobbing harder. "I don't want to carry you. I want you here. I need you here."

His forehead pressed against yours again, his voice breaking but resolute. "And I am here. Right now. Breathing, fighting, loving you. That's all we've got. We’ve got this moment and I swear to you, I'll fight for every single one we get."

The flashlight flickered again, shadows crawling along the walls, but Steve didn't flinch. He held you tighter, his warmth shielding you from the cold of the Upside Down.

"Promise me," you whispered, voice trembling. "Promise me you'll stay."

Steve kissed your forehead, lingering there as if he could pour every ounce of his soul into you. "I promise. As long as I'm breathing, I'm yours."

[balletteens]

Baking and apologies

David Corenswet!Clark Kent x gf!reader. wc: +800

summary: You’ve always loved baking and making a mess around the kitchen with company, but this time your company couldn’t make it on time.

warnings: established relationship. fluff. use of nicknames. mentions of halloween. kissing.

a/n: Hii! always wanted to write something about pookie Clark, so here it is, i hope u like! keep in mind that english isn’t my first language so i’m sorry if there’s a mistake.

October had always been your favorite time of the year. You loved walking the same familiar streets, now them dressed in brown, yellow, and red leaves scattered across the ground and hanging from the trees. Since you were little, you had adored celebrating and decorating for Halloween with your family—not to mention going trick-or-treating. But above all, you absolutely loved spending hours in the kitchen making cinnamon rolls, music playing in the background, wrapped in a cozy sweater draped over your shoulders.

That hobby was something Clark had learned just a year ago.

One october afternoon, Clark decided to surprise you at your apartment, coffee in hand and a tired smile on his face—worn out, but happy to see you. His smile widened even more when you opened the door with flour smudged across your hands and cheeks.

Today wasn’t much different from that day. You were in Clark’s kitchen, pacing from one corner to the other, occasionally licking your lips as your hands worked the dough.

You had wanted to wait for Clark to start together, but after he texted saying he’d be late and asked for your forgiveness, you decided to begin on your own and put on some music to keep the mood from turning gloomy.

As you moved to the rhythm of the music, swaying your hips gently and brushing strands of hair from your face, you suddenly felt two large hands rest on your waist. You jumped slightly, startled—you hadn’t noticed Clark had arrived.

You tried to turn around to greet him, but his hands held you in place—firm, yet gentle. He pulled you against his chest and leaned in, resting his face in the crook of your neck and shoulder. You felt him exhale, exhausted, his eyelashes brushing your skin as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"I'm so sorry, love," he sighed, wrapping his arms fully around your waist.

"It's okay, you just startled me a little," you said, gently stroking his hands and running your other hand through his hair.

"No. I don’t mean scaring you. I mean, I am sorry for that too, but I meant the part about being late," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

This time, you didn’t let him hold you back. You turned around to face him. You could tell he regretted it, anyone could. Clark had never liked doing things halfway or doing them wrong. He always wanted to make you happy and do things perfectly between the two of you.

"Clark, you know I understand when work keeps you late. I always have, you know that," you said, brushing your fingers along his cheek with a soft smile.

"I know, but I promised I’d be here and that we’d do this together. And now I just got here and you’re already halfway through," he said, shrugging, his lips forming a straight line.

You couldn’t help but smile. You never imagined you’d meet someone as special as Clark. He would do anything for you, just to make you happy and he always showed when he truly felt sorry for something.

"Clark, stop that, love," you said, tugging gently at his collar to pull him closer, pressing a kiss to his lips. "You need to know I’m not upset with you. I really do understand, and you don’t need to apologize at all. You should go take a shower, and I’ll be right here getting everything ready. We can make them together another day, okay?"

You felt his shoulders relax as he sighed and brought his hands to your cheeks, returning your kiss. Your lips moved in sync, slow and tender, savoring the moment—because it was, without a doubt, the best part of both your days.

"Go take that shower, baby," you smiled, patting his chest. "You need it."

Clark didn’t understand until he looked down at his shirt, now covered in flour thanks to your hands. He raised both eyebrows with a crooked grin.

"And that’s not even the worst part," you said, running a finger along his cheek, pointing out that it was even messier than his shirt.

"How much time do they have left in the oven?" he asked, referring to the cinnamon rolls you’d just put in moments before he arrived.

"Like 30 minutes, why?" you asked, frowning slightly.

One of his hands slid behind your knees, the other behind your back, lifting you up the way he always did—this time, carrying you toward the bathroom. You let out a small yelp followed by laughter, asking what he was doing.

"Plenty of time," he said with a smirk.

[clearsaturns]

hiii! so i made a new blog because this one couldn’t work for me anymore. here’s the new one @balletteens . Will post the part 2 of brush fire!!

[ricochetearss]

masterlist navigation

reminiscing ♡

benedict bridgerton x wife!reader

summary: when the ife on the country becomes too simple, your husband tries to comfort you

words: 1.5K

warnings & tags: five years martied with benedict. lady whistledown mention. hurt/comfort. fluff.

note: ok i've wanting to write about this man for sooooo long, hope u like it<3

Life has always come easy for you, like the salty waves on calm days, delicately hitting the shore with its weight, leaving a trace of wet sand to prove it happened. Exactly like that your existence had felt until now, advancing naturally without chaos and inconveniences, without scandals, always proper and processing organically, correctly, just leaving the smallest evidence to let now the ones around it something has happened, something has changed.

When he came to the picture, it was like that: silently, proper, natural.

Five years ago, you caught the eye of the bachelor of the season, Mr. Benedict Bridgerton. The courtship was beautiful, not dramatic or with any inconvenience, everything settled organically, the walks on the parks turned to visits to your house, tea with his mother, flowers at sunrise and finally a kneel down proposal close to the lake, perfect.

Then you were a Bridgerton. You married him and his surname became yours, decorated your name in such a lovely way, that every time he whispered it like a prayer it reminded you this was your life, a cozy cottage in the country, far from carriage noises and mothers gossiping. This was your husband, a charming, artistic man madly in love with you as much as you were with him.

The children came quickly, three in five years, you'd been busy, that's for sure. The universe kept giving you boys and you needed a girl, to balance the scales, and as result you got a gorgeous little girl, with your eyes and her fathers hair, you decided to name her after his mother.

Now, a year later from that. You've never been happier. Your life is perfect, you love your kids, you love your husband, you love this routine you had with your family. The children playing in the big gardens of My Cottage, you and Benedict sit side by side on the breakfast table below the tree, hands entwined above his thigh, tea cups and biscuits on the flat surface, birds singing and sunlight kissing the bare skin of your arms, softly.

Benedict is enjoying his tea, eyes fixed on the little creatures to make sure neither of them get hurt, you are reading the latest Whistledown magazine, one of the firsts after the big reveal that his brother's wife, Penelope, was indeed the mysterious author. The content, nonetheless, remains the same, gossip, shady comments and undeniable talent for writing, exactly like always.

On some other days, you would just ignore the magazine, not care that much about what it says but today, today you're feeling uneasy, maybe it's because the fourth baby is on the way, maybe it's because everything seems too... calm? or maybe because you haven't traveled to the city in months. Whatever the reason, something is bothering you about the words of today's edition.

Benedict notices, right away. One look at you, and he catches you frowning, eyes glued to the paper as it holds the answers of the universe. “Is everything alright, darling?”

You do not answer him immediately, your attention remains on the sheet on your hand, your gaze moves to the next column so he has to squeeze your hand to bring him back to him, to earth. It works. “I am sorry, did you say something?” You answer, confused.

“Something is troubling you, my dear” He states as if it was a fact. As he knows it before you.

“No, it is not” You assure, he glances at the magazine in your hands, his gaze questioning.

“Can I...?” He asks. You nod, Benedict leans in his chair, enough to reach the material between your fingers, he quickly reads the paper, looking from his last name on it, but the two times he found it, it's not talking about neither of you, it's about Gregory, about the debut of his youngest sister Hyacinth and one comment about Anthony and his wife, for dancing twice the last ball.

He chuckles, “I do not see the problem. We are not even mentioned” He says, your head tilts.

“Exactly” Those are your words, he sends you a curious glance, leaves the magazine on the table, leans closer to you, his hold on your hand tightens.

“What are you talking about?” He questions, amused but with gentleness in his voice, like he cares, like he will listen to whatever you say next.

“We are not in Whistledown anymore” As soon as you said it, you are sure this sounds like the baby is talking, you're over sensitive this days, the doctor knows, he knows, the children knows, you know but then after a few seconds, you realize, it's not entirely because of the baby but because of you. Everything has felt too quiet these days.

He smiles softly, his other hand looking for yours, holding them like they were a treasure “Was not that what you wanted?” He asks, so kindly, your heart flutters “Be free from social expectations and gossiping mamas”

You laugh, shortly “Yes, indeed” The reply comes quickly “I guess part of me still desires that but...” You cut yourself off, not sure how explain how you are feeling to him, how to decode your emotions and put it on words “We were all over Whistledown back in the day” You start “People used to wondered when we would gonna get marry or why I have not accepted any proposal or why you ran every time a young lady came close to you” He laugh at your words, the memories flooding on his mind “Do you not miss it?”

That question. The look on your face. For a brief second, he thought you were joking but you are not, not even a bit, you are being serious, deadly serious.

So he says a definitive “No” His thumbs caress your knuckles, he erases the smile on his face, still, there's affection on his expression, he holds your gaze for you to know he is being serious too “Darling...” The love hidden in his tone is evident.

His mind goes back to that first day, when he laid eyes on you. He remembered it perfectly, the shattering emotions invading all his being, the world around fading to nothing, altering every thought and belief he'd had till that instant.

“My life began the very moment I met you. Everything in the past it's nothing, it's blear for me” He stop, he studies your features with all the affection a gentleman could carry on his irises, heart and soul, then he's speaking again “I cannot miss those days because I am simply not able to remember who I was before you”

It is final. Definitive. This comment is a complete reassurance of his undeniable love, of his deepest feelings, of how much you mean to him but he hasn't finished, he's not even close “The man they talked about in those magazines, that version is no longer in existence. You changed me, for good, turned a lost phantom into a gentleman, a man deserving of your heart...So no, I do not miss it” He places a soft kiss on each of your hands, then his fingers are above your cheek, feeling the warm skin over there “But I am afraid, Good Lord, I am terrified that this quiet life of ours is not making you the happiest”

You shake your head, immediately. You have teary eyes but you are not crying, his forehead rests on yours, his thumb traces invisible patterns over the side of your face “Oh Benedict, it's not about that, I am the happiest lady in the world. I love the children and I love you, wholeheartedly” You assure him, a curve forming on the corner of your lips. “But we are spending a lot here, just us, away from everyone” You remind him “I want to have tea parties with your family, go to every ball on the season and dance until our feel hurt, I want our kids to share time with their cousins and grandparents, and yes… maybe I do want to be mentioned in Whistledown from time to time” A sweet laugh came from your mouth, he followed you with same action.

“Is that what you really desire, my love?” His whisper echoed in your ears, the softness of his touch on your is relaxing, you lean back your head, slightly, the sight of his ocean blue eyes clear for you “Yes, I guess I do”

He smirks, nicely. “I will arrange everything then” His lips press against your forehead, so lightly and so loving “We will be back in the city by the end of the week” He announces, receiving a content smile from his wife.

Not much after, he is standing. His right hand reaching for the forgotten paper on the breakfast table of the garden “But first, I need to send a letter to Lord Whistledown” he mentions with a playful tone, he quickly scans the magazine again “My beautiful wife is worthy of being the main character of Colin’s family business”

You roll your eyes “I love you, Ben” the words charged with fondness.

“I love you too, my dear” He replies with the same sentiment, leans one last time to share a sweet and slow kiss with you.

[clearsaturns]

cutest thing ever 🥹🤍 go read this masterpiece!

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I LOVED YOUR NEW CONRAD FIC AHHHHH!! the tension… the way he cares for the reader omg :’] after this week’s episode i just want him happy LMAO if you ever write a part 2 (no pressure !!) i’d definitely read it !! your writing is amazing! i felt so immersed 🤍

omg thank you so much 🤍🥹 the part 2 is coming soon i promise!!

[clearsaturns]

We need part 2 girly😭

it’s coming soon, i swear 🤞🏼🙂‍↕️

[clearsaturns]

ઇ ࣪˖ Chips and nursing

Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader. masterlist.

summary: You went to buy some chips you were craving, and you never expected to find drops of blood on the floor when you came back home.

warnings: tsitp season 3 (ep 6) spoilers. mentions of wounds and blood. pet names. use of y/n. english it's not my first language.

Author note: As soon as i finished the new episode i ran to tumblr so i could write something cute! Hope you'll like it 🤍

It was the first time you went to the grocery store by yourself. You were always accompanied by your boyfriend, Conrad, or even by Belly in those late nights you wanted to buy some popcorn for the movies. So, you didn’t wanna sound dramatic, but it was a little bit weird.

Conrad had told you at least ten times that he would go with you and that he didn’t want to let you go alone— he claimed that it was because of that, but you knew that he just wanted to spend more time with you before you left again for college.

You’ve been this past days better than ever. Went to the cinema, to the beach so you could watch the sunset while surfing –or more like him surfing and you looking at him–, and even went to eat some peaches together –or just you– after a cute date.

It was safe to say that Conrad didn’t want to let go of you. And you would never have a problem with it, but today you were craving some chips because you had eaten all the ones Conrad had bought for you a week ago.

So you may ask, what was the problem then?

The problem was that you knew how exited your boyfriend has been about surfing today, so the last thing you wanted was for him to miss out on that just because you were craving some dumb chips.

“I’ll be quick, love. I won’t miss anything” he has said to you, but you were determined about going by yourself.

And that’s what you did.

After not much than 30 minutes you were back on the house with one of your hands carrying the bag with chips.

You went to the kitchen and as you were leaving the bag on the counter you saw drops of blood on the floor. You instantly panicked and brought your hands to your mouth.

“oh my god” you whispered. “Conrad!”

It wasn't very difficult to follow the drops because of how much blood fell. Internally you were panicking as you followed the path that led you to the bathroom, where you opened your eyes in surprise – not in a good way.

“Connie?” you mumbled as you felt your voice leaving you.

He was all wet, sitting on the corner of the bathtub with a towel on his thigh. His face was pale and his eyes were showing some worry even though he was trying to hide it as much as possible.

“I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal” he tried to reassure you, even if it was pointless.

Conrad has always been known for trying to make you feel safe, happy and calm. So the last thing he wanted was for you to find him like this. He knew you could freak out.

“Conrad what happened?” you walked to him and sat in front of him, taking your hands to his cheeks.

“Baby, I’m fine, I promise. Go back to the living room, yeah? I’ll be fine” he pleaded looking at his thigh, not being able to look at your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s not happening” you claimed and stand up, immediately walking to the bathroom drawers, looking for something to clean the wound with and then bandage it.

You went back to him and looked at the towel, waiting for him to move it.

“Love, please, let me help you” you put your hand on his jaw making him look at you.

You couldn’t help it and left a soft and quick kiss on his lips and then you leaned your forehead against his, still caressing his cheek and jaw. He closed his eyes for a second and finally talked.

“I’m supposed to be the one doing this” whispered still with his eyes closed, letting a sigh escape from his lips.

“Conrad, I couldn’t care less if you were a doctor, teacher or an astronaut. Let me do it” you said with a soft tone, but letting him know that you were serious.

“You’re so stubborn” he smiled softly.

“You like me this way” you answered looking at him.

“I love you that way” he corrected and went for a quick kiss before moving the towel slowly for his thigh, which cause a whimper escaping his lips.

You finally smiled when he did, but the moment you eyes saw the wound, your smile quickly went missing. It was bigger than you expected and full of blood.

“Oh, baby” you took the shower head in your hands and opened it, letting the water run, waiting for it to get a little more hot. “If you ever want me to stop, you tell me, okay? And I will immediately”

He looked exhausted and his greenish-blue eyes only expressed hurt which only made you feel like somebody stabbed your heart.

With his head laying on your shoulder. You started spraying water on his thigh slowly, hearing him gasp, pressing more his forehead to you.

You put one of your hands in his hair, caressing it the way you knew he liked, just hoping that it would help him somehow.

That’s the only thing you always wanted.

You wanted him to be fine.

Perfect, if it was possible.

Conrad's breathing became more labored. His fingers placed on you arm, tapping them softly there, looking for some sort of relief.

“I’ll be quick, love. I’m so sorry” you placed a kiss on his hair and turned the water off.

You grabbed the alcohol with fear. You knew that this would be the worst part even if it was only seconds. With your hands shaking slowly, you took it and looked at your boyfriend's wound.

“Whenever you want me to stop, just let me know, yeah?”

You received a short nod from Conrad. You began to feel your shirt wet, and this time it was not the water from the beach, but sweat that was present on his forehead.

Alcohol began to fall down his thigh, and Conrad's moans became present in the quiet bathroom. You frowned when you heard your boyfriend's complaints, regretting not having stayed with him –maybe he wouldn't be like this right now.

You quickly stopped the falling alcohol but you only received a soft but firm pressure from Conrad on your arm.

"You can continue, love"

“Are you sure?”

Again, another nod appeared and you continued. A few seconds later, you put the alcohol back in place and started the last step.

Bandage his wound.

You grabbed the cotton that was on your left and gently supported it on his wound, not wanting to hurt him anymore. Then, you bandaged him quickly to try to leave him like new.

"All ready" you threw the air that you didn't know you had saved, resting both hands on his hair, caressing it.

He left a kiss on your shoulder and looked at you as if you had saved him in a life or death operation.

It was cute.

Although somewhat dramatic.

Anyway, you loved him like that.

"I didn't know that the love of my life was such a good nurse"

"I didn't know that the love of my life liked to show up with a giant wound while I buy chips for both of us" you opened both eyes more than usual and moved your head to the side, trying to show him your point.

"In my defense, it was unintentional" he looked at you with so much love that you couldn't believe it.

"I love you" came out of your lips without thinking about it even though it wasn't the first time. You were used to it happening.

He bit his lips hiding his smile –and failing in the attempt– while resting both hands on your cheeks. “I love you even more. I don’t know what i’d do without you”

[clearsaturns]

omggg 🥹🥹 thank you so much for all the support 🤍

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ઇ ࣪˖ Brush fire

Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader. masterlist.

summary: You and Conrad have been best friends for almost four years. When his brother’s wedding arrived, he asked you to go with him as his date, which you gladly accepted.

warnings: Je**miah Fisher. Fluff. Use of y/l/n. The summer I turned pretty season 3 spoilers (exactly from ep 7). English it’s not my first language.

Author note: Hi! So I didn’t really know what to do with this, so i’m thinking about maybe writing a part 2 of this. Also, this is me praying for my baby connie to find something better and be happy forever.

To say your friendship with Conrad Fisher was boring would be an abomination—completely impossible to understand or accept.

You met him about three years ago—through Agnes—at a small get-together with mutual friends. From that moment on, it was as if a spark of electricity had ignited between you two, and neither of you ever looked back.

As the years passed, you got to know Conrad more deeply, and he got to know you. One night on the beach, under a sky scattered with stars, a glowing full moon, and the crashing rhythm of the waves, you opened up about the pain you’d endured with your ex. Not long after, he shared everything about his past in Cousins Beach.

It wasn’t long before you convinced the brown-haired boy that maybe what you both truly needed was therapy. And to your surprise, Conrad agreed that very day.

Maybe he realized it was the best option.

Or maybe, feeling your support, he knew it was finally the right time.

But it couldn’t have been both… right?

Month by month, your friendship became the kind others envied. The laughter was effortless, the touches became second nature, and the tension in your lingering eye contact grew undeniable. But you were just friends, so all of that was normal… right?

Conrad stared nervously at the floor, scratching the back of his neck. “I need your help.”

You smiled faintly, still typing on your laptop. You’d known he had something to say the moment he walked through your apartment door with two coffees and a waffle—your favorites, of course. He always remembered.

“Tell me, Connie.” you replied, eyes still on the screen.

“You know how I told you a few days ago about the wedding…”

You nodded before he could finish. “Jeremiah and Belly. Yeah.”

Finally, he stopped pacing around the couches and sat down across from you. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked you straight in the eyes with a kind of quiet determination.

“I wanted to ask if you’d come with me… as my… date? Or, I mean, just as my plus-one?” He shrugged, tracing slow circles on his knee with his index finger. “If you’re busy, or you don’t want to go, or you already have plans, I totally get it. No pressure.”

“Con…” you began, but he cut you off.

“I think you mentioned something about work this week, something important. I just remembered. Sorry. I really understand if you can’t…”

His gaze dropped again, just as nervous as when he first walked in.

“Conrad!” you exclaimed, shutting your laptop and walking over to him.

Standing in front of him, you leaned down gently, placing your hands on his knees. He looked up, surprised by your sudden closeness, and his eyes met yours—nervous, hopeful, searching.

“I’d love to go with you to your brother’s wedding, Con.” you said softly, your voice warm and steady, like a secret meant only for the two of you.

His expression shifted instantly. The tension in his shoulders melted away, and for the first time in weeks, he seemed to breathe freely. A shy smile tugged at his lips—the kind he only gave when he felt truly seen.

“Really?” he murmured, as if he needed to hear it again to believe it.

“I’d go anywhere with you.” you replied, letting your fingers trace a small circle on his knee, mirroring the gesture he’d made moments earlier. “And if that means standing beside you on such an important day, then there’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Conrad let out a quiet laugh, the kind only you could decode. It wasn’t nervous or sarcastic—it was grateful. It was tender.

“Thank you.” he whispered, like the words weren’t enough to hold everything he felt.

And in that moment, with the soft glow of sunset spilling through the window and the scent of coffee still lingering in the air, you knew something had shifted between you.

The salty breeze hit you the moment you stepped out of the car, carrying with it the scent of ocean air and sun-warmed sand. The house at Cousins Beach stood just as Conrad had described—weathered in the most charming way, with its pale blue shutters and wraparound porch that seemed to hold a thousand summer memories.

Conrad lingered beside you for a moment, his gaze fixed on the house. You could tell he was somewhere between nostalgia and resolve. He took a deep breath, then turned to you with a soft smile.

“You ready?” he asked, voice low. “They can be a lot to take sometimes.”

You nodded laughing softly, and together you walked up the porch steps. The door creaked open before you could knock. Jeremiah stood there, barefoot, wearing a linen shirt and that familiar easy grin—though it faltered slightly when his eyes landed on Conrad.

“Hey, man.” Conrad said, his tone calm, almost rehearsed.

“Hey, Connie.” Jeremiah replied, with a giant smile that could almost look fake to you. “It’s been a while.”

There was a pause. Not cold, either warm, just a pause that held a lot of history.

Then a brunette girl appeared, you guessed that it was Belly. She was behind Jeremiah, her expression unreadable. Her eyes flicked to Conrad, then to you, then back to Conrad again.

“Hi.” she said, offering a small smile.

“Hi.” Conrad echoed, then stepped aside, gesturing toward you. “This is—well, you know her name. She’s the one I told you about.”

Jeremiah’s eyebrows lifted, and a slow grin spread across his face. “Ah… so she’s the one you wouldn’t shut up about.”

You laughed nervously, but Conrad didn’t flinch. He just smiled, eyes still on you. His left hand was soft on your back, and you could swear that you felt him caressing it slowly.

“I didn’t talk that much.” he muttered, trying to hide the soft pink coming to his cheeks.

Jeremiah chuckled. “You did. You really did.”

Belly’s gaze lingered on you for a moment longer, then she stepped forward. “It’s nice to meet you,” she said with her polite tone.

“Nice to meet you too.” you replied, offering a hand she gladly took.

The silence that followed was brief but heavy. Then Jeremiah clapped his hands together. “Well, come in. We’ve got drinks, snacks, and a playlist that’s stuck in 2016.”

Conrad gave you a look—half amused, half grateful—and you followed them inside.

The house was filled with echoes of summers past. Photos lined the walls, laughter drifted from the kitchen, and the sound of waves crashing just beyond the porch reminded you that this place had seen love, heartbreak, and everything in between.

But as Conrad leaned in slightly and whispered, “If it gets to much for you, and you need to take a break just tell me, okay?”

A half smile appeared in your face. “Will do.”

The house was completely charming—just as you’d imagined it after hearing Conrad talk about it. The walls were decorated with family photos, soft blue tones that matched the beachy, nostalgic vibe of the home, and the backyard was stunning, opening up to a breathtaking view of the ocean.

Now you understood why Conrad loved this place so much.

You held a picture frame in your hands, one that had been sitting on the living room table. It showed Conrad and his mom, Susannah, sitting in the sand with the house in the background. They were hugging, both of them wearing huge smiles that made you smile without even realizing it.

“I didn’t know you liked snooping,” said a very familiar voice from the living room.

You quickly placed the frame back where it belonged, feeling like a kid caught doing something mischievous.

“Sorry,” you said, biting your lip and hiding your hands behind your back.

Conrad laughed, watching your reaction. “I’m messing with you. I don’t mind.” He walked over and glanced at the photo you’d just been holding. “You can keep snooping. Pretend I’m not here.”

You smiled when you noticed the shift in his expression as he looked at the picture with his mom. You knew he missed her more with each passing day, but it comforted you to know you’d always be present for him when he needed it—just like he was for you.

“You look just like her,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder.

Physical affection between you two wasn’t constant, but when it happened, it was natural. It didn’t happen every day, only in certain moments—but it never failed to send butterflies through both of you.

“I miss her. More in days like this. Being here.” He tried to smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “I’m glad you’re here. I don’t know what I’d do with all of them on my own.”

You both laughed, glancing out the window toward the backyard. Everyone was singing and jumping into the pool, enjoying the day far more than anyone had expected.

“We should go out there, don’t you think?” you said, raising an eyebrow as Redbird dropped his pants and flashed Jeremiah. “Or maybe not. I don’t think they care.”

You managed to ignore them for a few minutes, but eventually it became impossible. You knew Conrad didn’t always feel comfortable in big social settings, but this was his brother’s day. Deep down, he’d regret not being part of it. So after talking it through, you both decided to head out to the pool.

“Finally! The lovebirds stopped making out!” Jeremiah shouted, raising both hands—each holding a beer.

“We’re not—” Conrad stammered, flustered.

“Sure,” Steven rolled his eyes, then winked at him.

Hours passed as Conrad laughed and shared stories with his brother, Steven, and their friends. Meanwhile, Taylor pulled you into a conversation with Belly and Anika. You got to know them a little, and couldn’t help but genuinely like them.

“Hey, y/l/n!” a familiar voice called from the corner of the pool.

Conrad.

You turned your head. He was pointing to the spot beside him, clearly wanting you to come join him.

When you got to his side, he asked you. “Everything okay?” He couldn’t help but worry about how you were like always.

“Everything is more than fine. In fact they are quite nice.”

Steven interrupted the little conversation, throwing himself into the pool taking a turn in the air, which only made water fall everywhere. You laughed from where you stood near the edge, watching the chaos unfold.

“Classic Steven” he said, laughing at the girl’s reactions. “He’s been doing that since he was ten.” Then he gave you his beer for you to drink a little.

You took a sip, the cold beer being a relief against the heat. “You ever cannonball?”

Conrad smirked. “Once. Broke a pool float and got banned from Belly’s birthday party for an thirty five minutes.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Thirty five? That’s oddly specific.”

“Steven was the judge. He’s always been dramatic.”

You both laughed, and then Conrad looked at you with a funny face. He was floating lazily, arms stretched out, eyes half closed.

“So” he said, cracking one eye open. “I think it’s your turn to tell me things. What’s your most embarrassing summer story?”

You groaned. “That’s a trap.”

“Absolutely.”

You thought for a moment. “Okay. I once tried to impress a guy by pretending I knew how to surf. Got on the board, immediately wiped out, and the board hit me in the face. I had a black eye for a week.”

Conrad burst out laughing. “That’s… honestly impressive. You committed.”

“I committed to the lie. Not the sport.”

He grinned. “I once tried to serenade a girl at a bonfire. Guitar, candles, the whole thing.”

You blinked. “That sounds romantic.”

“It would’ve been, if I hadn’t forgotten the lyrics halfway through and accidentally started singing a Taylor Swift song instead of the one I wrote.”

You snorted. “Which song?”

He looked sheepish. “You Belong With Me.”

You doubled over in laughter, nearly splashing water. “That’s iconic.”

“She didn’t think so. She thought I was making fun of her.”

“Did you get the girl?”

“Nope. But I got a viral video out of it. Steven posted it.”

You floated closer, the water gently lapping between you. The distance was shrinking, but not quite gone. There was something in the way he looked at you—like he was trying to memorize the moment without saying it out loud.

“You’re different here.” you said quietly.

He turned to you, his expression softening. “Different how?”

“Lighter. Like you’re not carrying the whole world on your shoulders.”

Conrad looked away for a second, then back at you. “Maybe I’m just carrying less of the past.”

You nodded, letting the silence stretch. It wasn’t uncomfortable. It was full of things unsaid. And for some reason, you even started overthinking about it. About the two of you, about everything that has happened all this years.

“Do…”

Jeremiah called out, interrupting you without knowing “Anyone want some burgers?”

Conrad smiled. “We should go before Steven eats all of it.”

You lingered a moment longer in the water, the tension between you like a thread—pulled taut, but not snapped.

As you climbed out of the pool, Conrad offered you his towel, his fingers brushing yours just briefly.

It wasn’t like any other spark.

It felt like a burn that would stay forever marked.

[clearsaturns]

‎𐦍 ִ  ۫  Orita’s masterlist.

Mostly writing about Conrad Fisher, Drew Starkey, David Corenswet, James Beaufort, Benedict Bridgerton, Luke Patterson, Teen Wolf, Outer Banks, Gossip Girl, Marvel, and more. However, my request will forever be open for you (if there’s kindness and patience).

The summer I turned pretty.

ઉ Conrad Fisher. Chips and nursing.

summary: You went to buy some chips you were craving, and you never expected to find drops of blood on the floor when you came back home.

ઉ Conrad Fisher. Brush fire.

summary: You and Conrad have been best friends for almost four years. When his brother’s wedding arrived, he asked you to go with him as his date, which you gladly accepted.

Specific people.

ઉ David Corenswet. No Autotune Allowed.

summary: You have a interview show called No Autotune Allowed. Today, your guest was the new Superman, David Corenswet. Who expected it to go so well?

[clearsaturns]

ઇ ࣪˖ Chips and nursing

Conrad Fisher x fem!reader.

summary: You went to buy some chips you were craving, and you never expected to find drops of blood on the floor when you came back home.

warnings: tsitp season 3 (ep 6) spoilers. mentions on blood. pet names. use of y/n. english it's not my first language.

Author note: As soon as i finished the new episode i ran to tumblr so i could write something cute! Hope you'll like it 🤍

It was the first time you went to the grocery store by yourself. You were always accompanied by your boyfriend, Conrad, or even by Belly in those late nights you wanted to buy some popcorn for the movies. So, you didn’t wanna sound dramatic, but it was a little bit weird.

Conrad had told you at least ten times that he would go with you and that he didn’t want to let you go alone— he claimed that it was because of that, but you knew that he just wanted to spend more time with you before you left again for college.

You’ve been this past days better than ever. Went to the cinema, to the beach so you could watch the sunset while surfing –or more like him surfing and you looking at him–, and even went to eat some peaches together –or just you– after a cute date.

It was safe to say that Conrad didn’t want to let go of you. And you would never have a problem with it, but today you were craving some chips because you had eaten all the ones Conrad had bought for you a week ago.

So you may ask, what was the problem then?

The problem was that you knew how exited your boyfriend has been about surfing today, so the last thing you wanted was for him to miss out on that just because you were craving some dumb chips.

“I’ll be quick, love. I won’t miss anything” he has said to you, but you were determined about going by yourself.

And that’s what you did.

After not much than 30 minutes you were back on the house with one of your hands carrying the bag with chips.

You went to the kitchen and as you were leaving the bag on the counter you saw drops of blood on the floor. You instantly panicked and brought your hands to your mouth.

“oh my god” you whispered. “Conrad!”

It wasn't very difficult to follow the drops because of how much blood fell. Internally you were panicking as you followed the path that led you to the bathroom, where you opened your eyes in surprise – not in a good way

“Connie?” you mumbled as you felt your voice leaving you.

He was all wet, sitting on the corner of the bathtub with a tower on his thigh. His face was pale and his eyes were showing some worry even though he was trying to hide it as much as possible.

“I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal” he tried to reassure you, even if it was pointless.

Conrad has always been known for trying to make you feel safe, happy and calm. So the last thing he wanted was for you to find him like this.

“Conrad what happened?” you walked to him and sat in front of him, taking your hands to his cheeks.

“Baby, I’m fine, I promise. Go back to the kitchen, yeah? I’ll be fine” he pleaded looking at his thigh, not being able to look at your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s not happening” you claimed and stand up, immediately walking to the bathroom drawers, looking for something to clean the wound with and then bandage it.

You went back to him and looked at the tower, waiting for him to move it.

“Love, please, let me help you” you put your hand on his jaw making him look at you.

You couldn’t help it and left a soft and quick kiss on his lips and then you leaned your forehead against his, still caressing his cheek and jaw. He closed his eyes for a second and finally talked.

“I’m supposed to be the one doing this” whispered still with his eyes closed, letting a sigh escape from his lips.

“Conrad, I couldn’t care less if you were a doctor, teacher or an astronaut. Let me do it” you said with your soft tone, needing him to put the tower away.

“You’re so stubborn” he smiled softly.

“You like me this way” you answered looking at him.

“I love you that way” he corrected and went for a quick kiss before moving the tower slowly for his thigh, which cause a whimper escaping his lips.

You finally smiled when he did, but the moment you eyes saw the wound, your smile easily went missing. It was bigger than you expected and full of blood.

“Oh, baby” you took the shower head and your hands and opened it, letting the water run, waiting for it to get a little more hot. “If you ever want me to stop, you tell me, okay? And I will immediately”

He looked exhausted and his greenish-blue eyes only expressed hurt which only made you feel like somebody stabbed your heart.

With his head laying on your shoulder. You started spraying water on his thigh slowly, hearing him gasp, pressing more his forehead to you.

You put one of your hands in his hair, caressing it how you knew he liked it, just hoping that it would help him somehow.

That’s the only thing you always wanted.

You wanted him to be fine.

Perfect, if it was possible.

Conrad's breathing became more labored. His fingers placed on you arm, tapping them softly there, looking for some sort of relief.

“I’ll be quick, love. I’m so sorry” you placed a kiss on his hair and turned the water off.

You grabbed the alcohol with fear. You knew that this would be the worst part even if it was only seconds. With your hands shaking slowly, you took it and looked at your boyfriend's wound.

“Whenever you want me to stop, just let me know, yeah?”

You received a short nod from Conrad. You began to feel your shirt wet, and this time it was not the water from the beach, but sweat that was present on his forehead.

Alcohol began to fall down his thigh, and Conrad's moans became present in the quiet bathroom. You frowned when you heard your boyfriend's complaints, regretting not having stayed with him - maybe he wouldn't be like that right now.

You quickly stopped the falling alcohol but you only received a soft but firm pressure from Conrad on your arm.

"You can continue, love"

“Are you sure?”

Again, another nod appeared and you continued. A few seconds later, you put the alcohol back in place and started the last step.

Bandage his wound.

You grabbed the cotton that was on your left and gently supported it on his wound, not wanting to hurt him anymore. Then, you bandaged him quickly to try to leave him like new.

"All ready" you threw the air that you didn't know you had saved, resting both hands on his hair, caressing it.

He left a kiss on your shoulder and looked at you as if you had saved him in a life or death operation.

It was cute.

Although somewhat dramatic.

Anyway, you loved him like that.

"I didn't know that the love of my life was such a good nurse"

"I didn't know that the love of my life liked to show up with a giant wound while I buy chips for both of us" you opened both eyes more than usual and moved your head to the side, trying to show him your point.

"In my defense, it was unintentional" he looked at you with so much love that you couldn't believe it.

"I love you" came out of your lips without thinking about it even though it wasn't the first time. You were used to it happening.

He bit his lips hiding his smile –and failing in the attempt– while resting both hands on your cheeks. “I love you even more. I don’t know what i’d do without you”

[ricochetearss]

my bestie nailing it with conrad fisher content

[clearsaturns]

i love u 🥹🥹🥹🤍🤍

[clearsaturns]

ઇ ࣪˖ Chips and nursing

Conrad Fisher x Fem!reader. masterlist.

summary: You went to buy some chips you were craving, and you never expected to find drops of blood on the floor when you came back home.

warnings: tsitp season 3 (ep 6) spoilers. mentions of wounds and blood. pet names. use of y/n. english it's not my first language.

Author note: As soon as i finished the new episode i ran to tumblr so i could write something cute! Hope you'll like it 🤍

It was the first time you went to the grocery store by yourself. You were always accompanied by your boyfriend, Conrad, or even by Belly in those late nights you wanted to buy some popcorn for the movies. So, you didn’t wanna sound dramatic, but it was a little bit weird.

Conrad had told you at least ten times that he would go with you and that he didn’t want to let you go alone— he claimed that it was because of that, but you knew that he just wanted to spend more time with you before you left again for college.

You’ve been this past days better than ever. Went to the cinema, to the beach so you could watch the sunset while surfing –or more like him surfing and you looking at him–, and even went to eat some peaches together –or just you– after a cute date.

It was safe to say that Conrad didn’t want to let go of you. And you would never have a problem with it, but today you were craving some chips because you had eaten all the ones Conrad had bought for you a week ago.

So you may ask, what was the problem then?

The problem was that you knew how exited your boyfriend has been about surfing today, so the last thing you wanted was for him to miss out on that just because you were craving some dumb chips.

“I’ll be quick, love. I won’t miss anything” he has said to you, but you were determined about going by yourself.

And that’s what you did.

After not much than 30 minutes you were back on the house with one of your hands carrying the bag with chips.

You went to the kitchen and as you were leaving the bag on the counter you saw drops of blood on the floor. You instantly panicked and brought your hands to your mouth.

“oh my god” you whispered. “Conrad!”

It wasn't very difficult to follow the drops because of how much blood fell. Internally you were panicking as you followed the path that led you to the bathroom, where you opened your eyes in surprise – not in a good way.

“Connie?” you mumbled as you felt your voice leaving you.

He was all wet, sitting on the corner of the bathtub with a towel on his thigh. His face was pale and his eyes were showing some worry even though he was trying to hide it as much as possible.

“I’m fine, it’s not that big of a deal” he tried to reassure you, even if it was pointless.

Conrad has always been known for trying to make you feel safe, happy and calm. So the last thing he wanted was for you to find him like this. He knew you could freak out.

“Conrad what happened?” you walked to him and sat in front of him, taking your hands to his cheeks.

“Baby, I’m fine, I promise. Go back to the living room, yeah? I’ll be fine” he pleaded looking at his thigh, not being able to look at your eyes.

“Yeah, that’s not happening” you claimed and stand up, immediately walking to the bathroom drawers, looking for something to clean the wound with and then bandage it.

You went back to him and looked at the towel, waiting for him to move it.

“Love, please, let me help you” you put your hand on his jaw making him look at you.

You couldn’t help it and left a soft and quick kiss on his lips and then you leaned your forehead against his, still caressing his cheek and jaw. He closed his eyes for a second and finally talked.

“I’m supposed to be the one doing this” whispered still with his eyes closed, letting a sigh escape from his lips.

“Conrad, I couldn’t care less if you were a doctor, teacher or an astronaut. Let me do it” you said with a soft tone, but letting him know that you were serious.

“You’re so stubborn” he smiled softly.

“You like me this way” you answered looking at him.

“I love you that way” he corrected and went for a quick kiss before moving the towel slowly for his thigh, which cause a whimper escaping his lips.

You finally smiled when he did, but the moment you eyes saw the wound, your smile quickly went missing. It was bigger than you expected and full of blood.

“Oh, baby” you took the shower head in your hands and opened it, letting the water run, waiting for it to get a little more hot. “If you ever want me to stop, you tell me, okay? And I will immediately”

He looked exhausted and his greenish-blue eyes only expressed hurt which only made you feel like somebody stabbed your heart.

With his head laying on your shoulder. You started spraying water on his thigh slowly, hearing him gasp, pressing more his forehead to you.

You put one of your hands in his hair, caressing it the way you knew he liked, just hoping that it would help him somehow.

That’s the only thing you always wanted.

You wanted him to be fine.

Perfect, if it was possible.

Conrad's breathing became more labored. His fingers placed on you arm, tapping them softly there, looking for some sort of relief.

“I’ll be quick, love. I’m so sorry” you placed a kiss on his hair and turned the water off.

You grabbed the alcohol with fear. You knew that this would be the worst part even if it was only seconds. With your hands shaking slowly, you took it and looked at your boyfriend's wound.

“Whenever you want me to stop, just let me know, yeah?”

You received a short nod from Conrad. You began to feel your shirt wet, and this time it was not the water from the beach, but sweat that was present on his forehead.

Alcohol began to fall down his thigh, and Conrad's moans became present in the quiet bathroom. You frowned when you heard your boyfriend's complaints, regretting not having stayed with him –maybe he wouldn't be like this right now.

You quickly stopped the falling alcohol but you only received a soft but firm pressure from Conrad on your arm.

"You can continue, love"

“Are you sure?”

Again, another nod appeared and you continued. A few seconds later, you put the alcohol back in place and started the last step.

Bandage his wound.

You grabbed the cotton that was on your left and gently supported it on his wound, not wanting to hurt him anymore. Then, you bandaged him quickly to try to leave him like new.

"All ready" you threw the air that you didn't know you had saved, resting both hands on his hair, caressing it.

He left a kiss on your shoulder and looked at you as if you had saved him in a life or death operation.

It was cute.

Although somewhat dramatic.

Anyway, you loved him like that.

"I didn't know that the love of my life was such a good nurse"

"I didn't know that the love of my life liked to show up with a giant wound while I buy chips for both of us" you opened both eyes more than usual and moved your head to the side, trying to show him your point.

"In my defense, it was unintentional" he looked at you with so much love that you couldn't believe it.

"I love you" came out of your lips without thinking about it even though it wasn't the first time. You were used to it happening.

He bit his lips hiding his smile –and failing in the attempt– while resting both hands on your cheeks. “I love you even more. I don’t know what i’d do without you”

[clearsaturns]

ઇ ࣪˖ No Autotune Allowed

David Corenswet x Fem!reader. masterlist.

Summary: You have a interview show called No Autotune Allowed. Today, your guest was the new Superman, David Corenswet. Who expected it to go so well?

Warnings: Use of “Y/n” and “Y/l/n” (your last name). Pure fluff and flirting. English it’s not my first language.

Author note: This is my first imagine so i’m really excited about it and hope you’ll love it! Keep in mind that english it’s not my first language so there might be some mistakes (sorry!)

You held your large navy-blue notebook in both hands, its cover decorated with newspaper-style letters: So you don't mess it up. You were reading carefully, once again, all the information you had gathered about the new guest before stepping onto the set to begin the interview.

As you memorized each fact and question, you started thinking about how strange it all was. At the same time, laughing to yourself. It low-key looked like a stalker digging up every little detail just to avoid embarrassing yourself with a guest… although you preferred to call it dedication.

The sound of knuckles tapping on the door of the small room pulled you out of your thoughts. You quickly assumed it was time to start recording, so you closed the notebook and stood up.

“It’s open,” said, glancing at the mirror and touching up the shine on your lips.

From the mirror’s reflection, Cassandra walk into the room with her hands in her pockets. You’d known her for as long as you could remember.

When you launched her interview show, you managed to convince Cassandra to become your manager, and you hadn’t parted ways since. Cassandra Herrington was like family: everyone trusted her completely and admired her work ethic.

“I like the new look, it suits you,” you complimented, finishing up your own hair.

“And I like your new guest. Did you see him?” she widened her eyes and then covered her face with both hands.

You burst out laughing, turning to face the woman.

“I did see him, Cass. I invited him,” you reminded her, though you were sure Cassandra already knew.

“I’ll never understand how you stay so calm. He’s freaking Superman!”

The older woman began walking toward the recording set, and you followed, chuckling discreetly so the people around wouldn’t think you were crazy.

The recording set of No Autotune Allowed had always felt magical.

It had two stations. The first was a simple navy-blue couch with a few pastel-colored cushions. The wall—so pale blue it looked almost white—was decorated with frames of various sizes, each one showing you alongside the guests who had sat on that couch.

The second station was a small wooden table with two chairs facing each other. In the center sat an old golden radio that matched the chairs, and a small pastel-yellow box that read: “Only for the brave at heart.”

Everything was simple by choice. The idea was to have a space to feel cozy and one-of-a-kind.

You arrived at the first set with a smile, greeting everyone briefly. A few meters away, there was a circle of four people, three of whom you quickly recognized as part of the team. But there was one you hadn’t met yet.

Her guest: David.

And wow, he was handsome.

Your five-centimeter wine-colored heels marked your presence as you walked toward the group. Smiled again, offering a warm welcome to the guest.

“So excited to see you here. It’s a pleasure,” you said, extending your hand to the brown-haired man. “Y/n.”

It was impossible not to notice how tall he was—he must have been close to 6’4’’. His eye color was something you could swear you’d never seen before. His soft waves of brown hair looked amazing, and the little curl that fell over his forehead made him look even better. He was far more attractive than in the photos, if that made any sense.

“How could I not know your name?” he joked, earning a sly smile from the woman. “David, it’s a pleasure.”

He gently pulled your hand to give you a brief hug in greeting.

“I don’t want to take up more of your time than I should. Why don’t we get started?”

The interview began like any other, though you made sure to give your guest a brief rundown of what was about to happen. Even though you didn’t reveal too many details—you always wanted honest reactions, not rehearsed answers.

Started with the classic icebreakers that never failed:

“What inspired you to get here?” “Who was your favorite superhero as a kid?” “How have these past few months of filming been for you?”

After laughing together at a particularly funny answer, you looked at him with a teasing smile.

“We’re about to get a little more serious now. Think you can handle it?”

David chuckled again, watching you try to put on a serious face.

“Shoot.”

You signaled to a colleague to hand you a book. Took it with both hands and held it out in front of him.

“Have you heard of this book?”

Book Lovers, by Emily Henry.

David laced his fingers together and looked at the book with a restrained expression.

“Of course I have,” he raised his eyebrows, now giving you a sly smile.

“Lots of people speculate you’d make a great lead if they ever adapted it.”

He smiled again, this time trying to hide it.

“No one’s reached out to let me know if that’s even a possibility. But if they do, you’ll be the first to know.”

An alarm began to sound. “Autotune Alert!” echoed repeatedly as David laughed and you stared at him with mock seriousness.

“You know what that means?” you asked, crossing your arms.

David nodded, amused.

“We caught your fake answer. So, as a team, we have a complaint: we need the truth.”

The crew chuckled along with him. David composed himself and tried again.

“I’d love to play Charlie. And if I hear anything about it, I’ll let you know.”

“We did it!” you looked at the camera, winked, then turned back to him. “That answer did, in fact, ate.”

“What?”

“It’s okay, Superman. We can move on. Everyone’s happy now.”

A few more questions followed—some light, some deeper—but the vibe remained the same: relaxed, fun, with a chemistry that could be felt from miles away. You were both comfortable. Happy.

You tried to ignore it, but it was impossible not to notice the dimples that formed every time he smiled. You’d loved that trait for as long as you could remember.

The cameras paused for a moment as you moved to the second set. Facing each other, arms resting on the table. When filming resumed, Nicola introduced the new segment.

“Welcome to the second station, David,” you picked up the box in front of you and squinting playfully. “Here, there’s no script, no superpowers… just you, me, and this box that can destroy reputations. Ready?”

David gave a sideways smile, raising an eyebrow. His gaze was intense but friendly, with a charisma that felt effortless.

“Go on, surprise me.”

You let out a small laugh.

“First card…” you pulled it out dramatically. “Who was your first cinematic crush?”

“Easy. Padmé Amidala. Natalie Portman in Star Wars,” he answered without hesitation. “I was like eight and already convinced true love involved saving galaxies.”

“I like that answer. I felt the same way about Anakin,” you confessed, and they both burst out laughing. “What made you fall for her?”

“Her strength. Her sweetness. And the fact that she could handle intergalactic politics with an impossible hairstyle…”

You watched him closely as he spoke. Your gaze drifted for a few seconds to his nose, then to the faint freckles barely visible, and finally to his lips. You quickly reconnected your eyes with his—just as David gave you a teasing look. He’d noticed the staring.

Praying that he hadn’t, you grabbed the box again, a bit nervous, and pulled out the next card.

“Tell me, David. What question do you dread someone like me asking?”

He looked at his hands, thoughtful. Then smiled shyly.

“Any question that starts with ‘be honest.’ Because you have that look that makes people want to tell the truth… even when they shouldn’t.”

You raised both eyebrows, impressed, though you tried to hide it. Pulled another card without looking.

“And if I say ‘be honest’… who do you miss but never say?”

David shrugged and lowered his voice, as if sharing an intimate secret.

“Nicholas Hoult. But don’t tell anyone. It’s like… a secret bromance. We get each other without saying much. I miss him more than I should.”

“A secret bromance between Superman and Lex Luthor? This is better than any DC plot twist.”

David brought a finger to his lips, signaling to keep quiet.

“I told you it was a secret…”

His serious expression turned into a sideways smile, followed by a wink.

“What if I turn it into an exclusive?” you joked. “Don’t worry. Your secret’s safe with me… for now.”

Pulled the next card.

“Have you ever used your smile to get something you wanted?”

David grinned wide, followed by a soft laugh.

“Does this count as an answer?”

You both laughed. You looked at him fondly. It hadn’t even been thirty minutes since you met him, but already knew he was someone you wanted to keep in your life.

“Touché. But I need a story.”

An alarm sounded again, this time with a voice saying “Storytime!”

“In college, there was this class everyone wanted to avoid: Statistical Psychology. I went to the professor with my best smile and asked to do an alternative project. He agreed. I ended up writing an essay on Star Wars and Anakin’s psychology. I swear.”

“You’re telling me you seduced a professor with Star Wars?”

“Academic seduction. It’s a superpower,” he joked, covering his smile with his hand. “Don’t make me feel worse. Hit me with the next one.”

You pulled another card, laughing.

“Describe me as if you were writing a movie scene.”

David leaned back in his chair, folded his arms, and looked at you with curiosity. He thought for a few seconds, then leaned forward, resting his arms on the table. He was less than a meter away. Your breathing quickened just slightly.

“Interior. Studio lit by warm lights,” he said softly. “She enters, with a smile that seems to know more than it says. Her laugh is music, but her gaze is fire. He, distracted by her charm, forgets he’s being interviewed… and starts confessing things he’s never said before.”

Maybe you were just a hopeless romantic, but those words shook you more than she expected. There was something about him you adored, though you didn’t know what it was yet.

“Was that a scene or a warning?”

“Maybe both.”

David sighed gently as he watched you draw one last card.

“Last question and you’re free, Corenswet.”

“Surprise me, y/l/n.”

The tension was palpable. You both felt it. Neither wanted it to end.

“What question would you ask me if I had to answer it no matter what?” you asked, now curious about his response.

David looked at you mischievously, knowing exactly what to say.

“What’s your phone number?”