#central cee fanfic

[wavypotatochips]

Elevator Mishap || Central Cee

𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 : CentralCee x Female reader

𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚 : You find yourself trapped in an elevator with a mysterious stranger who turns out to be the famous rapper Central Cee in disguise. [FLUFF/ LIGHT TENSION]

𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵  

𝐀𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: HIIIII GUYS omg so much stuff has happened personally in my life but I am back and better!! Central Cee is so fine and I just always wanted to write something with him lol. Its been a while since I have wrote something, so bare with me c': I have no requests, so feel free to send some in! 

(っ◔◡◔)っ ♥ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ♥

"I find it hard to believe I'm actually here," you murmur under your breath, a mix of disbelief and disinterest coloring your tone as you wait for the elevator to reach your floor. While most girls would gush with excitement at the prospect of attending a Central Cee concert in the UK alongside their best friends, Stacey and Rosalina, you find yourself unable to share in their fervor. The trio, inseparable since middle school, practically dragged you along when they scored free tickets to the concert, complete with all expenses paid. Despite their infectious enthusiasm for Central Cee, you couldn't summon the same level of excitement, feeling rather indifferent towards his music. Meanwhile, your best friends are back in the hotel room, immersed in making TikToks while belting out Central Cee's tunes. You made an excuse about needing to run down to the convenience store on the ground floor to grab a snack, eager to escape the impending festivities. As the elevator doors finally slide open, you step inside, your mind already elsewhere, contemplating the potentially underwhelming night ahead, especially given your lack of interest in the artist.

Absentmindedly humming to yourself, you press the button for the ground floor before casually leaning against the elevator wall. A brief moment of panic strikes as you pat your pockets, realizing your phone must have been left behind in the hotel room. Before you can fully process this inconvenience, the elevator lurches upward, and a figure clad entirely in black, sporting a ski mask, shades, and a hat, enters. You brush off the peculiar attire, attributing it to the chilly weather outside, but a faint sense of unease begins to gnaw at you as the elevator door closes.

The person does not press any buttons, signaling they were also going to the bottom floor like you were. You tried not to stare at the person beside you, but the clothes they were wearing screamed wealth. You look at their shoes as the elevator begins to go down. Suddenly, the elevator comes to a stop with a shake. You widen your eyes as anxiety kicks in, confused on what is going on. You look over at the stranger, not being able to see their expression before walking over and pressing the first-floor button again. This time, the elevator doesn't seem to budge nor is it telling you what floor you two are currently on.

“There's no way,” noticing the elevator may be stuck, your heart sinks down. The stranger walks closer to you, giving them a try themselves to press the buttons. You step back to give them room. Noticing the buttons will not budge for them either, you sigh and press the red button that signals a representative. A few minutes pass before someone speaks, “Hello? Is everything alright?,” the statically voice states.

“Yeah, ummm I think the elevator is stuck. We also can’t see what floor we are on,” you respond.

“Okay, please remain calm we are sen-,” the voice cuts off.

“Hello?,” you question, “HELLLOOOOOO?,” spamming the button again.

“Lady we can't hear YOUUU!,” You state pressing the button.

“You should stop before you break it.” The voice of the person speaks with a deep British accent, you now know they are a male. You turn to look at him, continuing to press the button a few more times before stopping. You sigh, sitting down on the floor.

“Just great,” you mumble while lowering your head in defeat. You are not someone with claustrophobia, plus the elevator was a decent size so it's not as if you were scared you were trapped. Only annoyed. While your head is low, you hear clothes shuffling causing you to look back up. The man begins to take off his coat and hat, probably also realizing we are not going to be getting out anytime soon. You shift your legs so you are now sitting criss-cross on the floor, your back against the wall as you look up at the elevator's ceiling.

“Don't worry, I bet they will come soon,” the man speaks once again with a reassuring voice. You keep your head up, “I know, it just sucks. This is my first time in the UK and I'm spending my first night trapped in an elevator with a stranger, no offense.” You hear a chuckle, ”None taken. What are you in the UK for if you don't mind me asking?” You can tell he just wanted small talk, and you didn't mind. I mean after all, you are stuck here for who knows how long.

 “My Best friends and I are here for the Central Cee concert,” you respond, continuing to study the French painting that is plastered on the ceiling of the elevator.

“Are you excited to go?,” he questions, resulting in you shrugging,” I don't care too much about him. Nothing against him, but you know, not really my taste.”

Silence settles between you for a moment, punctuated only by the occasional crackle of the intercom and the faint hum of the elevator's mechanisms.

"So, what brings you to the concert if you're not a fan?" he asks, curiosity evident in his voice.

You offer a half-smile, considering your response. "Honestly, I'm just here for my friends. Stacey and Rosalina are huge fans, and they practically begged me to come along. Figured it would be a fun night out, even if the music isn't really my thing."

He nods in understanding, a thoughtful expression crossing his features. "Ah, the sacrifices we make for friendship," he muses, a hint of amusement coloring his tone. “Maybe after the concert you will be my fan.”

His unexpected comment catches you off guard, and you find yourself momentarily taken aback. With a furrowed brow, you glance down, your eyes widening and eyebrows raising in confusion. And there he stands, Central Cee himself, his presence suddenly filling the confined space of the elevator. His pearly white teeth glint in the dim light, a charming smile gracing his lips.

If your best friends were in your position, they probably would have passed out by now. But you? You simply let out a small laugh, shaking your head slightly. “Mmmmm I don't think so. Your music just isn't my type,” you reply, your tone casual yet resolute. You glance back up at the ceiling, your interest clearly elsewhere.

Central Cee seems momentarily taken aback by your nonchalant response. He had perhaps expected screams of excitement or frenzied fangirling – or perhaps even both. But your composed demeanor only serves to intrigue him further. He closes his lips, the smile still lingering on his face, his gaze lingering on you with newfound curiosity.

"Really now?" he questions, a playful glint in his eyes. "What exactly is your type, hmm?"

“Not you, so it doesn't matter,” you respond with a casual flick of your gaze, focusing on your nail as if it holds the answers to the universe. Impatience begins to creep into your movements, prompting you to rise from your seat and stride over to the control panel, where you futilely press the buttons at random.

"Well, I would like to know," he persists, closing the distance between you with a deliberate step.

"It doesn't matter," you retort, your tone edged with determination.

"Yes, it does," he insists.

"No, it doesn't," you counter.

"Yes, it does."

"No, it do—" You cut yourself off mid-sentence, the absurdity of the situation dawning on you. "Wait, why am I even going back and forth with you?" The question is more to yourself, but Central Cee decides to respond.

"Because you do like me."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I don't."

"Yes, you do."

"No, I—" You catch yourself falling into the same cycle, causing him to chuckle.

"You know, you're cute when you get mad," he remarks, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. His words elicit a soft blush from you, prompting you to turn away and face the wall. "Leave me alone," you mumble.

"Awww, I'm sorry, love. Let me make it up to you," he responds cheekily.

"Make it up to me by getting this damn elevator to work," you grumble under your breath.

"If you can admit that I am your favorite artist, then I will make that happen," he confesses, catching you off guard.

You raise an eyebrow, turning to face him. "How?"

He tilts his head to the side, a mischievous glint in his eyes. "Say it, and I will make it happen."

You exhale heavily, skepticism evident in your expression. "Why does it matter to you so much?" you question.

He shrugs, smiling. "Simply because."

You glare at him, his grin only widening in response. You decide to humor him, considering his celebrity status and the possibility of connections. "Fine. You are my favorite artist."

He raises his eyebrows, amused by your half-hearted admission. "I don't think that was sincere enough for me."

You let out another small breath.  Stepping closer to him, you meet his gaze head-on. "Oakley, you are my favorite artist. I love your music so much; you are so talented."

His demeanor softens, his eyes meeting yours with sincerity. Something about saying his real name seems to have an effect on him. Whether it's your beauty or simply the use of his name, it stirs something within him, making him feel... nice.

You find yourself studying his features, admiring the way his light tan skin complements the arch of his eyebrows and the depth of his chocolate eyes. His small smile draws your attention, and you instinctively take a step back, coughing lightly to dispel the tension.

"Uhm... okay, I said it. Now, do your magic."

"You're right," he responds, retrieving his phone from his pocket.

"YOU HAD A PHONE THIS ENTIRE TIME??" you exclaim, incredulous.

"Yes," he simply responds, unlocking his phone.

You sigh. "Why didn't you say something?"

He shrugs nonchalantly. "Who wouldn't want to be trapped in an elevator with a beautiful girl like you?"

You open your mouth to reply, but the fluttering sensation in your stomach leaves you speechless. Despite your indifference towards his music, you can't deny his charm.

For a few moments, you find yourself lost in thought, your gaze dropping to your shoes. His voice interrupts your reverie, causing you to lift your head.

"Damn. I don't have any service," he says, raising his arm in a futile attempt to get a signal.

You watch as Central Cee furrows his brow in frustration, tapping futilely at his phone screen in a desperate attempt to find a signal. Despite the annoyance of being stuck in an elevator, you can't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie with him, a shared bond forged in the confines of this metal box.

As the seconds tick by, the silence between you grows heavier, the tension palpable in the air. You glance at Central Cee, taking in the way the dim light of the elevator accentuates the contours of his face, casting shadows that dance across his features. Despite your best efforts to ignore it, you can't deny the flutter of excitement that flits through your stomach at the sight of him.

"Anything yet?" you ask, breaking the silence with a voice that comes out softer than intended.

Central Cee shakes his head, his expression a mixture of frustration and resignation. "Nothing. It's like this elevator is in its own little world, cut off from the rest of the universe."

Central Cee chuckles softly, the sound echoing in the confined space. "and here I thought being a famous rapper would exempt me from getting stuck in elevators," he remarks, a hint of amusement in his voice.

You smile, appreciating his attempt to inject a bit of humor into the situation. "Guess even celebrities aren't immune to elevator mishaps," you reply, your lips quivering in a half-smile.

He returns the smile, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary. "At least I'm stuck in here with someone interesting," he says, his tone laced with sincerity.

A blush rises to your cheeks at his compliment, and you quickly avert your gaze, suddenly feeling self-conscious under his scrutiny. "Thanks," you mumble, "I guess you aren't so bad yourself.."

Central Cee's smile widens at your response, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "Well, I'll take that as a compliment," he says, his tone teasing yet genuine.

You chuckle softly, feeling a sense of ease settle over you as the tension between you dissipates. "Consider it one," you reply, meeting his gaze with a shy smile.

As the moments pass, you find yourself drawn into conversation with Central Cee, the topics ranging from trivial matters to deeper discussions about life, dreams, and everything in between. Despite the unusual circumstances that brought you together, you can't help but feel a sense of connection with him, a feeling of understanding that goes beyond mere words.

Eventually, after what feels like an eternity but is likely only a few hours, the elevator lurches back to life with a groan of protest, the sudden movement catching you off guard. Central Cee reaches out a hand to steady you, his touch warm and reassuring against your skin.

"We're moving again," he says, a note of relief in his voice.

You nod, a sense of anticipation building within you as the elevator ascends towards the surface. “Finally,” you say, though a pang of reluctance tugs at your heart. Deep down, you wish the elevator would stay broken, prolonging the fleeting moments you've shared with him. In the brief interlude of confinement, you've come to appreciate not just Central Cee, but the person behind the persona, Oakley. As the elevator hums back to life, you resign yourself to the inevitable parting that awaits you both, returning to the separate paths your lives had veered from.

Central Cee begins to adjust his attire, meticulously covering his features with the ski mask and glasses, returning to his "disguise". “Don't worry," you assure him, offering a small smile, "I won't breathe a word of this to anyone. It'll be our little secret.” Before he can respond, the elevator doors glide open, ushering in a flood of light and fresh air. Eager to break free from the confines of the elevator, you step out quickly, wary of being trapped again.

“Hey,” Central Cee calls out to you, his voice laced with a hint of concern, “I’ll see you tomorrow,yeah?” A flicker of something indefinable passes between you, a silent understanding that transcends words. Though you yearn for a deeper connection, you suppress the urge, unsure of what you truly desire. With a small smile, you nod in acknowledgement, “Yeah.”

As you both walk away, your steps leading you in opposite directions, you can't help but feel a sense of resonance, a shared moment that binds you together in thought. Despite the divergence of your paths and the separation of your lives, in that fleeting instant, your minds are aligned, fixated on each other, entwined in a momentary bond that defies explanation.

[hearta54]

He's A Distraction (Central Cee x Reader)

Summary: You're a dedicated student and going to Cambridge and become a doctor is your stars and heavens. To make that happen you have to move schools, a boy was never meant to be part of the picture. But Cench looks so good in it...

Word Count: 2 472

Notes: Sorry this is a bit long, I would love if you guys would send requests.

You scroll fixatedly on your laptop, scanning the screen in intense concentration and stopping each time something caught your attention. Reading the Cambridge Medicine webpage was an addiction; in the past you had tried to dissuade yourself from accepting this, but how could you not when it always stared blankly back at you? Addictive but productive, each time you re-read the sentences you had engraved into your memory you grew closer to your dream. And when you closed your eyes at night, you saw yourself in lavender scrubs and a pearly white lab coat; living your dream of being a Cambridge Alumni doctor.

Three A*s needed for entry motivated you to be an excellent student. You didn't mean to behave exaltedly but your current school was inadequate in innumerable ways. Today in biology, there hadn't been enough dissection kits, so the class had taken notes robotically and brushed over the practical. Defeated, you remembered how you had trudged home dubious; how could a school implore success in its students and not have the right resources? A memory of sitting in an examination room at Queen Victoria's Sixth Form Academy unnerved you, yes, you had sat the scholarship examination. It had been strenuous and the competition in the room had been palpable, even so, you didn't feel as if you could compete successfully. Falling asleep, you were plagued by these worrisome thoughts even in your dreams.

Obnoxiously the sound of your alarm erupted immersing the room and awakening you. Each morning when you woke up, a void would open gaping at you, existing ostentatiously: It was a persisting sense of loneliness at first; an innocuous reminder to cherish time with your parents. But this was difficult when they both left for work as the sun just began to emerge teasingly over the horizon. Your mother worked as a university professor, such a nominal salary for an intelligent woman, and your dad worked as a nurse; anyone could tell you nurses were underappreciated, numbers didn't have to. A smart knock was being emitted from the hallway, who was at the door?

A postman adorned in fluorescents held a letter for you to take, when you hesitated a second too delayed, he dropped it, walking swiftly to his flagged motorbike and zooming down the road. A Queen Victoria's Academy insignia? You felt so inauspicious as you leaned on the door prying the seal delicately open. Covering your face with your hand you peaked at the verdict through the intricate gaps between your fingers. "We would like to congratulate your success on the recent Academic Scholarship examination and invite you to accept a scholarship place with us." No words can grasp your joy it's transcending.

Yawning tiredly, you stretched placing your feet into your fluffy slippers, the night had gone and went without a wink of reprieve - you were consumed with nerves for the day ahead: Your first day at Queen Victoria's Sixth Form Academy. Opening the door, you walked across the creaking timber to make breakfast alone as you did every morning. You were befuddled to see your mother occupied in the kitchen handling an assortment of kitchenware ,readying a breakfast spread; usually you would just eat cereal; before you were pancakes, fresh fruit niftily cut, orange juice and array of salivating dishes.

"Mum why are you not at work?"

"I wanted to drive you for your first day, I can't begin to express how proud dad and I are," she said beaming excitedly.

You sat at the kitchen visualizing your mother's small, slightly dated and mediocre car driving alongside the avant-garde and luxurious cars of your new peers. Your stomach knotted half ominously and half guiltily. She seemed so happy to drive you and had sacrificed work to drive you, your inner monologue whispered insisting to take the bus would leave your mother forlorn.

"I'm glad you're taking me; I didn't really want to take the bus on my first day anyways."

Lies.

The academy's tree-lined boulevard was now in sight, driving alongside it now; planting your face against the misty window, eager to catch a glimpse. Your mother's car was now aligned with the curb which signaled a convenient space to leave; grudgingly you opened the door slowly as if peeking into a foreign world - in a way you were. You breathed in a long breath of courage as you slung your bag across your shoulders.

"Bye mum, thanks for the ride," you said, genuinely grateful.

"My pleasure darling, I love you, see you after school." Your mother grinned, pride cascading her face and carved smile lines. Guilt ebbed slowly as you watched your mother drive away. As her car dissipated to a speck in the distance a humble maroon car pulled to the curb, your mother had dropped you off with a car of a similar stature. You felt an unspoken sense of camaraderie. I'm glad I have someone to share the embarrassment with.

A boy emerged who appeared to be in the upper-sixth form - your year. He didn't seem ashamed of his car or even the slightest bit alienated; instead, he was confident, you could read if from his aura: it preceded him. Staring now, you saw his dark hair which was styled into jaw length box braids. His cutting cheek bones were iridescent, catching the sunlight, and you marveled at the softness of his plum bottom lip...

"I love you mum, thanks for the ride," he spoke to his mother with a genuine smile.

"I couldn't say no after you begged for a ride, could I? Have a good first day, Oakley."

What! He had asked for a ride. The guilt came gushing back, you weren't like him, yes you could relate about your car which was vain and face level. But he appreciated his mother wholly and wasn't attempting a façade to fit in with the elitism around. You felt a searing pang of shame. Frozen in thought you only broke out of this state when you felt dark coffee eyes meeting your gaze. The dwindling blare of the lesson bell dismissed you from the intense, awkward situation. Walking towards the office to meet the enrollment officer you chastised yourself sternly: This was the year of academic success entailing A*s, boys could tear down everything you had worked so hard for in a painful heartbeat.

The enrollment officer had distributed timetables to the small group of scholarship students; some of them gave a condescending air: Almost as if the fact testing had terminated slipped their minds, but most were nice and proffered kind but shy smiles, clipped at the edges with perceptible nerves. You navigated the halls wearily searching for your chemistry lab, the school was grandiose but tastefully understated. The look of old money attracted your gaze, it was a world away from where you had come. Walking the winding stairs, you see your chemistry class meters away from the landing 'room 299.'

Having arrived ahead of time allowed you to peruse the chemistry lab, it was a spectacle. Advanced modern equipment, granite bench tops, the most powerful microscopes... It left you speechless. You were broken from your trance by your classmates trickling in slowly and the booming voice of your new chemistry teacher.

"I am Dr. Olsen, I have a doctorate of chemistry from Oxford itself, trust you are in more than good hands," he paused to chuckle at his own joke but carried on when the students unreciprocated his mirth.

"This is the only chemistry class in the upper sixth form, that should allude to the arduous nature of the course. Therefore, to maximise your concentration I have taken it upon myself to devise a seating plan."

Dr. Olsen trailed off when the class began to groan resentfully.

"You can thank me when you receive your A-level results at the end of sixth form. Right then, in the back row, Y/N and Oakley Caesar-Su, Veronica Windward and Yasser Malik ..."

Oakley, You had been seated next to the boy from earlier this morning. You knew you shouldn't be smiling to yourself, chemistry was an imperative A-level. You weaved yourself to the back row and sat next to him.

"Hi Oakley," your voice had manifested much more timidly than you had expected.

" Yeah hey y/n, call me Cench, only my mum and tired old teachers like this one call me Oakley."

You giggled unexpectedly, he grinned back his gaze lingering. As Dr. Olsen droned on about Titration you took down notes studiously, beside you Cench was doing the same; writing down notes swiftly. You couldn't help but notice his handwriting was neat and prettily round, looking at his notes you dropped your pen. From your stool you reached down to retrieve it, on the way back up you bumped heads with Cench who had thoughtfully wanted to help.

"Oh my days, I'm sorry y/n, you good?" He was asking searching your eyes for signs of hurt.

You went to assure him you were okay when you got cut off by no other than Dr. Olsen...

"You two in the back Oakley and y/n quiet please."

"I am sorry Dr. Olsen I was just _"

"I don't want a justification take notes like everyone else, or get out," he said belittlingly.

Your cheeks got hotter as the class snapped their necks rubbernecking to witness your embarrassment, you looked at your notes mortified.

"Look, Dr. Olsen, You don't have to chat to her that way, she bumped her head and I was seeing if she was okay, yeah." Cench's jaw was locked making his cheek bones even more enunciated.

" Don't talk back Mr. Caesar-Su, detention after school." With an angered demeanor he resumed his lesson. You fought away guilt as you continued taking notes, if only I had gripped my pen tighter.

Trailing the halls advancing towards the exit, you're clouded with gratitude tinged with empathy for Cench, you hadn't meant to get him in trouble. Nor had you meant to tarnish his reputation in front of the strictest teacher. In your periphery you see Cench and your heart soars.

"Hi, Cench, I'm so sorry about earlier, I didn't think you'd get in trouble for trying to help."

"Don't worry about it y/n, that prick shouldn't have -"

"Right, students before we go into the room, these are the rules of after-school detention..." A teacher drawled these words with an expression of boredom.

You gave Cench an apologetic look over your shoulder before you opened the door, you were met by a smile and a shrug of the shoulders from Cench. The whole way home your mind is scattered with intrusive thoughts of him, you don't want them there but you don't want to fight them away either.

Cench's POV:

Detention dragged on just as I thought, thoughts of y/n appeased this listlessness because thinking of her had made it bearable. As we had worked on our assignments in silence I had chosen to continue my English literature essay. I could say I had not made much progress because the silence which filled the room was unsettling, but really it was because it was y/n who occupied my mind. Y/n with her guileless smile, her sharp and dazzling intellect, the clocked tick some more and I spent the time like this: Thinking up an interminable list of why I like y/n. Really and truly I had only met her today, but something about her...

Wrapping a towel around my waist and drying my wet braids, I hear a ping from my phone. 'You have received an email from..." It's a notification from the enrollments officer. Is this about today, I know I went overboard but I wasn't gonna let that prick talk to y/n like that.

I check what she has to say and she's saying I have to pick an extra-curricular to fulfil my scholarship expectations. That's calm, I'll join the Charitable Cause Club, I heard y/n is in it.

Y/N's POV:

At your desk you're riddled with inconsolable worry. In two days will be the chemistry exam which will make thirty percent of your semester grade. Staring at the notes in front of you which feel insurmountable you begin studying. It is well after midnight when you finally turn off your lamp and resign to sleep.

Cench's POV:

Standing around the classroom I see y/n, her eyebrows are nearly touching in what looks like worry while she reads her chemistry notes. I never thought she would panic during exam season, I think she's the smartest in our whole class. Watching her worry like eats away at me I really don't like it.

Lying awake on top of my covers despite the cold. My mind turns to y/n for the infinite time and I stop randomly at the Starbucks order she has in the morning sometimes. A regular matcha latte with two pumps of vanilla syrup and a strawberry icing doughnut embedded with fresh pieces of strawberry. Trust man's not simping... it's deeper than that.

Y/N's POV:

At 7am on a Friday morning, the library is empty. The comforting silence interrupted sporadically by the tinkering of the librarian. Today, is the day of the chemistry exam and no matter how much you study you don't feel ready for the exam. You feel warmth on your head, the feeling of someone watching you so you glance up straight into coffee eyes. It's Cench leaning on a bookcase your favourite Starbucks order in hand. Your heart skips several beats.

"Hi y/n, your such a neek you know, studying at this time." Cench says this as his eyes flick across your face, enthralled.

"I don't know, you can never be prepared enough," you retort, trying to fight a smile from showing on your lips but failing.

"I don't know about that, you'll do great, your as smart as you are cute. Which makes you very smart."

You feel your cheeks getting hotter and you stare blankly at your notebook.

Never taking his eyes off you Cench puts the drink and a paper bag down on the table.

"I got you a little something, good luck, yeah."

You watch him as he walks away, with his bag slung over one shoulder. Suddenly you are filled with the confidence he has in you.

Taking a few sips of your matcha leaves you refreshed, reaching into the paper bag your heart squeezes when you see a strawberry covered doughnut. How did he know. Looking inside the bag for napkins you see a strip of paper, unfolding the paper you read the message.

It says: You should go out with man. Scrolled on the bottom is a phone number.

You gasp earning a reprimanding look from the librarian. Your mind wanders visualising what your date with him will be like.

...

THE END

[starssgalore]

word count - 278

based off of - 553 (nasty) by jodeci

_______________________________________________

it's deep. soo deep. that burning, twisting feeling in your core.

from the moment you first saw his face you haven't been able to forget, it's imprinted on your mind like a memory.

his face is so memorable. those lips and eyes. and god that smile that could make you do anything. and don't even get me started on that voice. deep and calming like the ocean. aggressive when the time calls for it.

he's got you wrapped around his finger... fingers really.

the sound of trickling rain and cars passing you on the street.

the cross walk being crowded with vehicle traffic slowly starts to clear up as soon as the light turns yellow.

the smell of pavement and rain slowly mixing together in a nostalgic aroma. the dark night sky lit up by billboards and street lights.

pedestrians getting ready to cross but not you. your legs are stuck in the same spot they have been since you've seen him walking towards you.

eyes half lidded, lips slightly parted as he blows out smoke from his cigarette. hair messy from running his hands through it too often.

he's under stress.

but just like that, he walks past you without a single acknowledgement. not even a wink or a tap of a shoulder.

it's not until you snap back into reality when you feel someone bump into the fact of you.

"fuck this." whispering under your breath out of annoyance.

it's not like you loved him anyways, yeah you were addicted and he was too. but that's not love, right?

it's not until your phone lights up a couple of blocks down.

'you know your mine.'

'7 at my place. see you later.'

delivered • 18:30

and with that adrenaline rushes to your heart. your legs start to move fast back to your apartment to spruce up yourself before see him.

you are his, and he's yours. forever until the end of existence.

_______________________________________________

hey! it's been awhile but recently I've just been writing short little blurbs about whoever or whatever I'm thinking about. mainly inspired by music. so this one is based off of... *drumroll!*

553 - nasty by jodeci

anyways, see y'all later

xoxo, hoshi 💫

[xxgloss93]

Cench

[trentre]

do y'all really think minors don't read the fanfics y'all write?? 💀💀

[chrislapdog]

FANFICS

or you guys can comment other ppl

[inthetwilight]

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criminal minds‎౨ৎ

spencer reid

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outer banks౨ৎ

rafe cameron

jj maybank

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matthew grey gubler

drew starkey

milo manheim

jacob elordi

artists౨ৎ

central cee(oakley)

kim taehyung

jeon jung-kook

kim seok-jin

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[lorarri]

★ . . . 𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐏 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐄 , 𝐋𝐍𝟒

summary , when making a guest appearance on your youtube series chicken shop date you were surprised by how much you actually enjoyed his company and the rest was history

pairing , lando norris x fem! youtuber! reader

main masterlist | f1 masterlist | lando norris masterlist

yourinstagram now playing: friday - riton, nightcrawlers, mufasa & hypeman

liked by landonorris charles_leclerc 89,279,365 others

yourinstagram landonorris has my heart racing 🏎️ chickenshopdate out Friday !

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user Lando is literally perfect for this you don't understand

user brb need a pit stop you two are too good together ❤️‍🔥

user ICONIC collab 😮‍💨🙌🏽

user cold

charles_leclerc me next??? ⤷ landonorris no she mine ⤷ yourinstagram ummmmm since when sirrrr

user STOP STOP STOP IM SCREAMING!!!!!!!!

user He’s P1 in our hearts 😍🧡

user Get him some fish sticks

user ok song choice, you know what’s up

user can already hear his giggles

user Yeah, we needed this for sure

user IT'S FRIDAY THENNN 🕺

user Lando buzzing that he gets to eat a proper meal for once 😂

user At this point I don’t watch for the celebrities, I watch for Y/N.

user the capri sun is so iconic

user Weird, I’m jealous of a ketchup bottle

user BROOO IS THAT HOW IT FEELS TO GO ON A DATE WITH LANDOOO!???? cause im in

user We can’t gatekeep him anymore😭

user So this is what a date with Lando Norris is like?

user not him and charles beefing in the comments over Y/N 😭😭

user 😭 HOW 😭 DOES 😭 IT 😭 FEEL 😭 TO 😭 BE 😭 LIVING 😭 MY 😭DREAM 😭

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yourinstagram . 2hrs ago

seen by landonorris maxverstappen1 57,279,364 others

landonorris replied to your story!

you love me really

no comment

yourinstagram

yourinstagram The secret is out 💋 chickenshopdate with landonorris out now!

view comments

user RUNNING TO WATCH RN

user Y/N if you don’t I will

user Please make out with every guest, okay thank you bye

user STOP SMILING MAN WHAT THE HECK HE IS SO CUTE

user “i’m down” fell to my knees in the grocery store

user LMFAOO the way she answered “playing hard to get” too😭😭😭😭

user The LIP BITE after the ‘even hotter if I was in there’ 😅😅😅 OH MY

user LMAO she still didn’t follow him back😭😭😭😭😭

user lmk when someone writes this fanfic pls

user Y/N. This man is in love with you.

user Man was offended by "thats why your not winning" 😭

user Nah because they’re cuteeeee together 😩😩

user Wow I think I might like this one more than the one with central cee 😭

user Freaking get married right now

user he’s so bashful loveeee

user best duo ever ahahahahaah so chaotic

user Wasn’t long enough!!!!! 😭😭

user Okay, now I need every F1 racer to do chicken shop date

user This is a real date

user Lmao, best crossover

user This is illegal 😭 too cute😍

user PLS HE COULDN'T EVEN STOP BLUSHING 😩😩😩

user Amelia, this is so darn cute, please just date him already

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Y/N L/N → LANDO NORRIS | CHICKEN SHOP DATE

landonorris

liked by yourinstagram carlossainz55 89,265,186 others

landonorris Gonna go get my appendix removed. Apparently you do it and you win a race soooooo…. congrats Carlitos 🌶️ #weightloss

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user CARLANDO. 🙏

yourinstagram Yay you were faster !!! 😍 xxx ⤷ landonorris all for you bae ⤷ user 😭💀 ⤷ user CSD effect💅 ⤷ user HELP HE WAS ⤷ user followed him back after getting on the podium 😂😂😂 ⤷ user it’s the power of love….🎶 ⤷ user more Y/N motivation 😍😍😍👏👏 ⤷ user FAV WAG 🥰 ⤷ user the most supportive gf for real ⤷ user not him calling her bae on the main

user What a duo 🔥

user Another Carlando podium….Another happy day 😁

user every racing driver about to go remove their appendix

user CARLANDO NATION! WE WON 🧡❤️

user All drivers take notes 📝 🤣🤣

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landonorris and yourinstagram . 4hrs ago

seen by carlossainz55 charles_leclerc 79,394,579 others

charles_leclerc replied to yourinstagram story!

so is this still a no for that chicken shop date??

get lando's blessing and then we'll talk

[hoezhatelola]

IMA DOLL, BUT I STILL WANNA PARTY !!

WELCOME !!

RULES & NOTES i write about anything that i’m familiar with, but now i am currently working on mha, amp, marvel, and central cee fanfics, one shots, blurbs, etc. i do not write for any characters under the age of 16. do not copy or steal any of my work. my work is directed towards fem readers, and i write both fluff and smut hehe.

ABOUT ME my name is lola, 17, she/her, nyc born & raised. i like to write for fun in my spare time, passionate abt music n hygiene cuz these hoes need to clean themselves.

❥ 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 :

༺ a boogie wit da hoodie ,

central cee, ꧁

♡︎ ✰ pop smoke,

21 savage, 𐫰

♬ j hus

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐬 & 𝐭𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐬; open

𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭(𝐬):

❦ teenage fever; duke dennis x fem!reader

❦ dynamight x fem!reader drabble

❦ bakugou x fem!reader drabble

masterlist coming soon!

[cee-grice]

Heyy Cee happy New Years' Eve!! 🥳

To end off the year, what are the top five influences for your book and how have they shaped you as a person? 🤩

happy New Year's Eve to you too, Tate<33

omg....ok I'm gonna expose myself for you all now so play nice pls thank u

the biggest influence for this story would have to be D&D. I had really gotten into playing it last summer, which was when I started thinking about this story, so you can really feel the influence in some parts haha (especially the magic system lol...). this whole story began with me creating an encounter featuring Endra, actually (with a stat block and everything lol), and I got so obsessed with the idea that I. made a whole story about it LOL. I would say D&D has... introduced me to a bunch of cool people, and everyone you meet, I think, shapes you a little as a person, so there's that haha. but also it made me think more about expansive worldbuilding, and thus appreciate it more as well. IDK I feel like it just made me love fantasy in general all the more:D

the second influence would have to beeee minecraft/dreamSMP. both, really, in their own ways. minecraft more on the lore aspect and magic system, weirdly enough??, and dsmp in the, hm, complexity of character relationships, I'd say? nothing specific, but more so the vibe. and my story is all about complex character relationships, so!! I also wrote quite a few fanfics for it, and that really helped with my confidence in writing, I'd say. I hadn't before had such a supportive audience, and they're very much to blame for my decision to actually take this Seriously haha. by that alone I'd say this shaped me most as a person/writer :v

thennn third influence, my jobs?? it just so happened that I was surrounded by pathology when I began this story, and I just sort of? gravitated to it as a central story point?? kinda wild, now that I think about it lmao. but yeah, idk, I feel like this job that I have made me mature a little more x)

ahmm fourth influence, maybe arcane? more of a subconscious one, though, as only when a friend pointed out some similarities did I go 'oh yeahhh' lmao. I did very much enjoy arcane, and although I watched it a good while before I'd started this story, some stuff must have stuck with me subconsciously haha

as for the fifth one...also more of a subconscious one, but Mo Dao Zu Shi. starting a story with necromancy is just an S tier story hook, in my opinion, so I did kinda yoink the idea from here haha, although, again, I hadn't done so intentionally lol. I also really liked the dual timelines and definitely wanted to write something with such a structure. this story sort of introduced me to modern Chinese fantasy, and I really gotta read more of it ahhhh, but yeah, always nice to broaden your literary horizons:D

[hearta54]

𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐏𝐢𝐚𝐧𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡 (𝐂𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐥 𝐂𝐞𝐞 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫)

Summary: You have a long-lived crush on Cench, the boy across the road, piano is one thing you share. At a piano examination, you find out if your persistent feelings are reciprocated.

Notes: Originally was going to write about Tae-Moo from Business Proposal; thought this suits Central Cee better. Plus he's hot as f!ck.

Warnings: alcoholism, abusive father, a little swearing

Word Count: 2 453

When you played the piano it was like the notes were emitted from your finger tips, rather than from the instrument you love. You closed your eyes and let memory lead into the crescendo of Fur Elise. Playing the piano was a form of ecstatic escapism; it allowed you to transcend reality and exist in a void untouchable by what drained you.

Dad could drain a pungent bottle fast, even faster than he could drain you. Drifting into the decrescendo the melodic keys helped you block the intrusive thoughts you had about him. He used to be better, a memory which was slowly fading from memory. But if you were to be honest … those days when he embodied something other than an absent and sorrowful father were lost in a network of messy incidents, spurred by the violent man he became under the influence.

Sometimes dad was cordial and added to a pleasant ambience but this didn't overshadow his bad days. On these days, you would crawl within yourself, barricaded in your room playing until your fingertips felt numb and your hands lost their supple dexterity. Feeling a need to escape as your parents argued downstairs, mother was made timid by him; so she tread carefully, but even then he was so volatile. So temperamental.

So mother lived in crippling fear: That a chair would be thrown too hard, or that dad would drink too much alcohol. Extra shifts at the hospital was how she coped, running and adamantly refusing to confront - this tainted you with disappointment. Piano was the way you fought. But in rare instances when your favourite composers didn't ease your worried mind you turned to Oakley, the boy across the road.

Placing your sheet music atop of your keyboard you allowed yourself to sink into an inviting daze. Oakley Neil H.T Caesar-Su is it weird that I know his whole name, his friends call him Cench, Cench was an anomaly he made rap music and dressed in tech fleece but under the guise of his demeanor he was one of the best pianist you had witnessed … Grade seven.

When Cench played it was riveting, unconsciously tilting his head to the side and getting lost in the keys he looked like a worthy muse. You digressed, thinking about the way his plump lips upturned when he smiled. The way his dark curls caught the sun when she watched from afar. Afar... because Cench barely registered your existence.

Last week in music class, late as always; he bumped into you. As he retrieved your folder you thought you had glimpsed a twinkle in his eye. But it must have been the glare of the sun because your eyes lingered and his were unbothered; turning away. Changed into your satin PJs you switched the lamp off - some dreams were best left for sleep.

...

Morning had arrived, but as the sun rose smoothly you were ruminating. Casting your memory back to last night, you revisited the way your hands had glided over the keys. Each note seamless and crisp melting into the songs you had beautifully played. You hoped you would play as effortlessly today. Today was a pinnacle and would hopefully affirm the hours of practice and offer a haven which floated more away from what was happening at home and into your future at The Royal College of Music.

Doing your therapeutic morning skincare, you thought listlessly of life there and the endless respite it unlidded. Today you had chosen a white turtleneck layered by a wooly grey cardigan and cute pleated skirt, with opaque tights - for the glacial London winter - and legwarmers. Leaving your room you slipped on your Doc Marten's - a complementary staple in your closet.

They had not been cheap, but with the aid of your part-time job which was not overly lucrative; you were able to secure the shoes and cover the significant costs of piano tuition. Walking down, you treaded softly on the worn carpet, you could hear the wretched sound of beer bottles clinking in the kitchen. Clinging to the bannister you steadied yourself; Cench would be at the piano exam. So you put on a façade of bravery and nonchalance even though you knew it was erosive.

"Hi y/n slept well," his words weren't slurred yet. You were flummoxed, dad was usually rooted in self-interest. When did he start looking beyond himself?

" Dad..." Your words caught in the static air, it sounded so raw.

"Mmm."

"Do you think you can drop me to my piano exam it's a bit far by bus, mum is working and -" Glass smashing to smithereens startled you; you covered your head instinctually.

"Who do you think I am. A fucking taxi, take the bus. You and your God damn piano," he was seething, as he turned around you took in his bloodshot eyes. So temperamental. He wouldn't have been good to drive anyways. Rigid and shaking you rushed up the stairs hurriedly and stuffed your bag blindly with your sheet music. Your eyes were too watery. You shut the door behind you with trepidation, not wanting to spark another polarizing outburst.

Tears streaming endlessly down your face you breath caught as you saw Cench leaving his house across the road. Seeing you he seemed perturbed like he'd seen something he shouldn't have. You watched aghast as he put his earbuds in and pulled his quintessential Trapstar hoodie to shroud his possessing curls. Walking down the street with your eyes downcast, you felt mortified, you felt Cench had seen a part of your life you worked so hard to hide.

You bumped into something unmoving, "ugh," you scoffed exasperatedly. Could my day get any worse? Glancing upwards you were dumbfounded by who stood in front of you.

"Hi y/n, you alright, everything calm yeah?" Cench was looking directly into your eyes, his earbuds out.

You nodded, clutching at fading conviction. How could you tell Cench your problems when he barely knew you? So dishonestly you made it seem like everything was fine; insecurity hoodwinked you into believing he would think you were 'too much.'

Almost smirking, he rolled his eyes tilting his head to one side like he was lost in demanding piano piece.

"Why do girls always move shady? I can tell your not fine, you were tearing up and that _ " he sighed seeing the resolve you had in being stoic.

"Alright then y/n, your fine I guess. The piano exams are time away, taking the bus is mad _" he was stopped short by a honk from a car blaring rap music.

"Anyways good luck, don't stress too tough, your piano skills are hard," Cench said this as the car drove away erratically.

Piano skills? Cench knows about my piano skills? Maybe you're not so self-deluded.

...

Raveled in the chaos of the morning, walking into the revered and coveted Royal College of Music was an exhale. The school was the cornerstone of all your dreams, you could always visualize it vividly. And now here you were for a piano exam, it was a reminder that it was real and not just a conjuring of your escapist imagination.

Walking through the hall you took in the surreal architecture and basked in its splendor. I could get used to this. Peeking at your crumpled pamphlet you realised the auditorium was on your left: 'Auditorium 9B.'

You sat down in a velvety plush seat and felt yourself inflate with hope, a place hear would be a gateway to magic. A piano piece began softly, enthralling the dozens of other pianists scattered in the vast, gilded auditorium. Flicking your eyes heavenwards you saw him, playing as gracefully as ever. Sometimes you thought to yourself Cench was born solely for this very thing.

Cench's POV:

I have played this piece a thousand times before now; I perfected it and made it radiate real talent even. Just so that when I got on this stage, I could stare at y/n and absorb her beauty. I committed every detail of her face to memory before the eighth bar - What can I say I'm a quick learner innit. The truth is I am worried about y/n, I know her dad is an alcoholic, I just don't want her to know I know. She'll get embarrassed and hurt, and I don't want to see her like that, ever. This piano exam is important, grade eight is what I need to come here; so why is all I can think about how to tell y/n I like her? I shake these feelings off as the keys fade for the end. These man are tapped if they say I didn't make Grade 8.

...

Y/n's POV:

Speechless and hypnotised is what you are. Making your way up to the mahogany stage, butterflies battle for dominance in your stomach. This mix of nervousness for the performance and the fact Cench will be watching is both nauseating and intoxicating. You inhale filling your squeezing lungs. The conductor motions for you to begin, the sheet music you have on the ledge... It's not Fur Elise, like you were assigned it's the one you've been experimentally writing. Horrified you close your eyes. Lost. You begin to play anyways. Confront don't run. You play until the amounting crowd is rendered delirious with applause and Cench is peering funnily at you in the audience, you brush it off. That's probably the look of disinterest.

As the curtains closed you saw your future becoming narrower... and narrower. There was an office which you were meant to report to promptly, to hear results. Practically tiptoeing in anticipation you felt yourself drown in dread. Not commencing to Grade seven meant bidding this school a sorrowful goodbye, before you even had a chance to enroll! It wasn't just the prestige, or the vigor which made this school shine in a pearly light, it was the love for music and adorned opportunities it created. For some a school like this was a pretty ornament on a promising resume, but for you, this was your youthful life's work.

Now standing outside the tastefully decorated office, you heard two adults discussing tersely, the conductor and examiner. Knocking lightly on the door, you were further unsettled at how swiftly it swung open. For the millionth time that day, you sat in a seat powerless; while others dictated your fate.

"Ms. y/n last name, we were shocked when you played the piece that was not assigned to you, but it appears you wrote it, yes?" The conductor drawled.

You cleared your throat hurriedly, looking intently at the poker-faced men.

"Yes sir, I did," it came out a near whisper.

"Excellent, welcome to grade seven, I look forward to seeing you at the Royal College of Music in the very near future."

...

You were beyond ecstatic. You honestly had no words to describe this feeling it was bliss and euphoria intertwined. The rain sprinkled predictably as you walked to your bus stop: You couldn't help but romanticise life at times, but this moment was a smidgen of actual romance in your life. Your gentle musings of how much you loved the piano led way to someone you might adore just as equally.

You could hear fast steps behind you through your beige XM4s, thinking it was just another jogger it didn't faze you.

"y/n..." your name caught in Cench's throat. Hearing his voice made you rip your headphones off. Ugh So unsubtle. You stopped to see what he had to say, Cench was only a few inches away. But you wished he was closer... Closer still. As close as possible.

"Hey y/n I saw you walking, can man walk with you," he said this confidently but his eyes were slightly down cast.

"Yes, of course," you replied, letting your heart soar with the possibility of this being the day you would turn a new leaf together.

You walked together to the bus stop talking about piano and your shared dream school, until you could see the tall, red bus blinking at you in the distance.

"There's my bus, see you in music class, Cench," you tried to mask your disappointment as you reluctantly climbed the steps.

"Where do you think I'm going, we live on the same street still," he chuckled rolling his eyes; exciting the butterflied entrapped in your stomach.

"Oh okay," you smiled awkwardly.

Cench's POV:

I am sitting so close to y/n in the bus right now. What if I just leaned in and... Truthfully I am overwhelmed with nervousness right now. This never happens ever. I don't want to talk to her about what happened this morning; she doesn't seem ready and the way she's smiling right now and just looking around the bus. Man she's so cute. Bu there are things to discuss..

"Y/n.."

"mmhmm," she was looking into my eyes and I thought my mind would go blank.

" I - I actually like you a lot... I have for time, I can't lie." Holding my breath. I'm hoping... I hope she responds the way she does in my head.

Y/N's POV

The air left your brain, the moment felt ethereal. You had pictured and edited this moment innumerable times in your imagination. And you always thought it was just remain a figment. Looking into Cench's dark, enamoring eyes you could see he was waiting for your answer.

"I like you too Cench... I have since forever." Your smile turned impossibly large and you faced the front, excited for what's yet to come and beaming.

"Since forever huh, babe don't be silly," Cench's smile was a reflection of a sunny day.

"It's true - " you mumbled realising what he has said. Babe.

Cench placed a warm hand on your cheek. His lips were soft like you had always envisioned; grazing over yours slightly - searching for reciprocation. You opened your eyes wide in awe and surprise, pressing your lips against his. You could feel Cench smiling into the kiss; his lips were sweet and fit yours perfectly. Slowly his hand trailed to grip your waist while the other stayed on your face. Moving your lips together he pushed his tongue in your mouth and roamed everywhere he could; you saw a different galaxy.

Gasping quietly you both pulled away grinning stupidly.

"You're so beautiful y/n you don't understand," whispering for only you to hear, he wrapped his arm around you moving closer. You put your head in the soft spot between his neck and the edge of his shoulder closing your eyes. You thought about love. Love for piano and Love for Cench.

....

THE END

[lottiecrabie]

i think the most fanfic wattpad pr relationship is central cee and madeline argy. idk the way it’s done.. yea there’s some 13 years old girl behind that. i could actually see then fall in love for real

[kon3ko]

just read central cee fanfic with my bf

[mangoisms]

Resisting to ask a lot from the fanfic writer thingy hahahdhjsd but i'll limit it to 25, 74 and 75 :D

nooooo don’t worry cee i’m genuinely happy to answer as many as you want it’s so much fun! plus i only got yours and another ask so i definitely do not mind KFKDJJD

the questions are from this ask game (which is still going on!)

25. What's your favorite part of the writing process (worldbuilding, brainstorming/outlining, writing, editing, etc)?

ooooh probably other than the writing itself, i really like brainstorming. it’s not necessarily outlining but i’m basically just daydreaming a LOT about the fic. i usually know a fic is a feasible idea if i daydream a lot about it because that means i’m excited enough/interested enough to do it. i also don’t know if this counts but — making playlists. actually tbh i would say it counts because playlists are soooo central to my writing, i will never have a fic without a playlist

74. Do you have a fic you wish got a bit more love?

this is a good question.. hm. i’m torn between frmb and be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking. i know it sounds SO weird to say that but while frmb is getting a lot of hits, i don’t see much else in terms of kudos or comments which kind of stinks but i do have you and froggy and some other dedicated readers on wp so it’s ok! it was just something i noticed. it’s also probably the smallness of the reader part of the fandom too.

i guess to REALLY answer the question, it would be be still, my indelible friend, you are unbreaking! i have fun whenever i reread it and i’m like wow this isn’t so bad! but it’s one of my past previously completed fics (like aside from frmb and dgfh) that has the least engagement.

75. Is there a particular fic that readers gravitated towards that you didn't expect?

probably dogfish/like the part of the song where it falls. in the last part, i got a lot of engagement all of a sudden. this is probably just me but my perception of it, as time passed and i was posting it, it kind of soured? i wasn’t as confident as i was beforehand and i was like ‘is this really that good…’ especially since it’s so short! but no i had some comments and kudos on the most recent posted part and i was like Oh. LSKDJDJFNDN so! didn’t expect that sudden burst of interest

[elliotsblunt]

GIRL please write central cee fanfics

I promise i will I got you

[leiakenobi]

main masterlist | AO3

Fanfics

“Bad People” | One-Shot | 1k words | Mature | F!Reader Considering that you and Dave didn’t exactly part on the best of terms when you last met, you’re surprised when his name lights up your phone screen.

“Pretenders” | One-Shot | 1.3k words | Teen | GN!Reader When this job came your way, the mayor's daily run made things a hell of a lot easier.

Fanfics

“amidst the to and fro” | One-Shot | 1.3k words | General | GN!Reader Rumors spread through the Rebellion that one of the pilots on your squad was a Mandalorian, once upon a time. 

“Graceless” | One-Shot | 3.4k words | Mature | F!Reader A young spice runner named Poe picks you up at a bar and takes you back to his ship. When an older member of his crew walks in on you, your one-night stand goes in a very different direction than you’d anticipated. (Poe Dameron/Reader/Din Djarin)

“safe place to land” | One-Shot | 1.3k words | General | F!Reader For a few years, now, a Mandalorian bounty hunter has made sporadic visits to your inn. After he gave up the kid, you were the one he turned to.

Prompts

Bad dreams

Fanfics

“just a shot away” | Multi-Chapter | WIP | Teen | F!Reader | On Hiatus Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 Ezra and Cee hire you to fix up their ship while they’re docking on Central. That should be the end of it.

Prompts

Shower 

Fanfics

“Dead-Red” | One-Shot | 10.7k words | Explicit | F!Reader Sitting dead-red (verb): When a hitter is waiting for a fastball, receives it, and takes advantage of it in the hopes of a home run. (Frankie/Santiago Garcia/Reader)

Headcanons and other asks

The Mummy AU (Santiago Garcia/Reader/Frankie Morales)

Fanfics

“an apology.” | One-Shot | 681 words | Teen | F!Reader Since you and Joel became separated from everyone else and opted to barricade yourselves on the second floor of an old house for the night, you’ve been too focused on taking inventory of your weapons and gear to think about much else.

“constant as a northern star” | One-Shot | 14.2k words | Explicit | F!Reader You forge an unlikely friendship with Joel and Tommy Miller when you impress them with the scam you run on unsuspecting strangers. After about two years of working together, they invite you to join them as they head up to Boston, and you surprise yourself by saying yes. 

“the wasted morning glow” | One-Shot | 3.2k words | Teen | F!Reader Joel’s out later than anticipated with the current patrol outside of Jackson. While you’re up in the quiet hours of the night, fretting over him, you receive a visitor—a pregnant woman who’s gone into labor while her husband is out on that same patrol.

“we’ll journey and cope (as we wander)” | One-Shot | 882 words | Teen | GN!Reader In the coming years, you suspect folks will look back on the first Christmas after the outbreak as one of the last gasps of ‘normal.’

Prompts

a kiss that isn’t meant to happen but it does anyway

Fanfics

“Chaperones” | One-Shot | 870 words | General | F!Reader Marcus works very hard not to let on to Missy that her first date is cause for great consternation.

“manic rhapsody” | One-Shot | 1k words | Explicit | GN!Reader Marcus enjoys a bit (or a lot) of teasing.

“New Love Cassette” | One-Shot | 3.7k words | General | GN!Reader You’ve been with the Heroics for a little under a week when you meet Marcus Moreno for the first time.

SFW Alphabet | co-written with @knivesareout

Prompts

“Superhero Supervising”

Headcanons and other asks

You’ve Got Mail AU

Fanfics

“Tear You Apart” | One-Shot | 1.6k words | Explicit | F!Reader An argument with Max about chores leads to something that – realistically – you should’ve seen coming.