#charming family ff

[paigemathews]

Okay, but why did they write Sheila like that? Like she gets next to no screen time, despite viewing the girls as family, and then suddenly doesn't want Darryl covering for them anymore (which don't get me wrong, she's valid for it but it's a 180 reversal of the like one personality we had going for her) and like. The sisters needed friends, and Sandra Prosper is on the show for nine episodes but they just. stick her in the background, give her a line or two, and that's it. And I mean, Darryl is a main character for seven seasons, and she's his wife. Even though he wasn't one of the main main characters, you'd think they'd do literally anything with her like c'mon.

[endiness]

the thing that gets me with the idea that the prince shouldn't save snow white and that she should save herself instead is that the prince saves snow white from, basically, being in a coma. like, that's the only thing he saves her from. so the argument is literally "how dare this coma patient not wake herself up and a man do it." which, granted, i don't think anyone making that argument realizes that's what they're actually complaining about. but i also think they don't realize that because i don't think anyone making that argument has actually seen or read anything about snow white in their entire lives and are just against the idea of a man saving a woman on principle alone because that's so unfeminist or something, i guess. and, y’know, nevermind the actual context of the situation. or how the thing that’s actually not feminist at all is reducing a woman’s entire character and story to somehow just being about a man because he happens to save her literally at the very end of her story, and from a situation that is literally impossible for her to save herself from in the first place because, y’know, the problem is that she’s in a coma.

[snowbellewells]

Self Promo Sunday: "Bless What is Given You"

I realize that it's time to roll out the Christmas-y fics, but I had one more Thanksgiving story, and I didn't want to leave it out. I hope you will still enjoy it, even in December. There’s a nod to a missing moment from 3x19, but then it jumps to post s6 in Storybrooke, to all of them in their happy beginning… Most of this is also written in Robin Hood's point-of-view, so there is some Outlaw Queen in amongst the larger Swan Jones Charming Mills family fluff, if that is a deal-breaker for anyone...

** Also available on AO3, if that is your preference **

by: @snowbellewells

“Do you mean to tell me you think you know better than a queen?” Regina’s haughty voice practically dripped disdain from each clipped, precise syllable she spoke. The perfect arch of her sculpted brow rose in question, disbelief and disapproval clear on her challenging, flawless face, even if her tone had not made her opinion more than apparent. “My mother was Rumplestiltskin’s most prized pupil; he sought me out himself to train me as well, chose me to cast his precious Dark Curse… Do you honestly think the fact that you can scare off a few monkeys with your arrows and you’ve been squatting in his deserted castle makes you a better judge of...of…” Even though she spoke the “you” as though her mouth was swallowing something foul and her face scrunched up accordingly, it seemed that the formerly Evil Queen was at a rare loss for words to express just how ridiculous the very idea was.

Unfazed, the scruffy archer gazed right back at her cheekily, seeming more than a bit amused by her ruffled feathers and inability to continue. “Not sure that is quite the distinction you’re making it out to be, Milady,” he offered with a smirk.

From across the way, Snow couldn’t seem to resist chiming in with the outlaw who had once befriended a princess on the run; who, in what now seemed like another life had helped her fine-tune her skills with a bow and advised her on spots in the forest where one could most easily hunt game to eat without encountering Regina’s guards. Though Snow had long since made the choice to put their painful and sordid history in the past, there was something that teased a warble of delighted laughter up her throat at the sight of this bandit who once graced “Wanted” posters by her side agitating Regina to the point of losing all her icy, polished reserve. “It is a bit of a dubious honor, Regina, you have to admit.”

Charming beside her dipped his head to hide the chuckle rumbling in his chest as well, reaching across their round council table’s polished surface to squeeze her hand. The shepherd-prince consort would have been lying if he refused to admit there wasn’t a part of him who enjoyed watching her Majesty flounder for her unaffected poise. It went without saying that the curse they were speaking of had ripped he and Snow apart and taken their daughter from his arms almost the moment she was born; consigning them all to 28 lonely years of misery. The truth was that plain and that simple, but he wisely held his tongue. At least since his recent pirate friend had gone off on his own after their arrival back in their land, Robin was someone with whom he could break a bit of the tension and who might lighten all of their dark and despairing moods once in a while.

As they returned to discussing the plan to raid Gold’s castle here in their home realm, knowing Zelena had holed up in the Dark One’s stronghold - with Rumplestiltskin himself still prisoner - it became clear it was really the only method they had left to try, to hope that the man who always knew so much more than anyone else would also know some way out of this mess, some way to stop Regina’s rage and envy fueled half-sister. Belle across the table looked pale and strained, her lips pressed together in a thin line but determined, needing to help in whatever way she could. Even if they couldn’t free her True Love, even if his mind were already too fractured by his near death, the half-possession that had held his son’s mind within his body as well, and then that son’s violent loss, he wouldn’t want things to continue as they were; with him under Zelena’s control and bent to her will. Belle had to cling to that truth if nothing else.

Seeming to sense her flagging spirit, Charming saw Leroy sitting next to her place a clumsily large, ax-calloused hand over her slender, tiny one and give it a reassuring squeeze. The dwarf leaned over to whisper encouragingly to the petite beauty, and the prince realized that even within his inner circle of friends and allies there were deeper friendships, and stories leading to them, that he didn’t know, as Belle’s petite frame relaxed and her tense shoulders lowered slightly at the stout little man’s clearly welcomed assurances. The former shepherd thought he just made out the kind, if gruffly voiced, words, “Hang in there, Sister, the battle ain’t over yet.” Charming smiled; that might as well be a mantra for all of them.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Robin of Locksley, otherwise known in the Enchanted Forest these days by his more colorful moniker of Robin Hood, simply could not seem to help it. He knew something about him - be it his cavalier attitude towards risk and danger, his leisurely and rather lax methods of ruling over his crew (Can he help it if he’d trust them with his life and has never had cause to question their loyalty or skill?) or perhaps it was just his very form and person she objected to. Whatever the case may be, he couldn’t help goading her Majesty, rattling that posh control of which the woman seemed so proud. Behind the cool and haughty veneer Regina Mills carefully wore, he sensed something injured - fragile, even - though she would be appalled at the thought that any weakness showed, he had no doubt of that. The irony, of course, was that bit of a chink in her flawless armor was the one thing that kept him from dismissing her as another selfish, cruel royal stepping on the backs of those less fortunate to get ahead. Her tiny show of pained humanity, the loneliness hidden behind those large dark eyes, beguiled him no matter how hard he tried to resist; drew his empathy where otherwise he would have had only scorn for her past actions and the villain she had been.

They were in the Dark Castle; seemingly, hopefully, having escaped Zelena’s notice so far, but stymied by a large door into the chamber where Rumplestiltskin had to be imprisoned. They had searched the entire rest of the castle and found it empty. None of them were foolish enough, however, to assume that the fact that they had not yet seen the Wicked Witch meant that the way ahead was safe or that she had not laid hidden snares for any intruders. Particularly not if this door were the barrier beyond which she was hiding the powerful being she meant to both use and prove herself to. There had been no other closed doors until this one, after all.

With a huff of impatience, as if she couldn’t be bothered to waste another second of her time - even with safety - the former Queen reached forward, her perfectly manicured hand nearly to the golden inlaid handle despite the Princess Snow’s warnings for caution and the Lady Belle’s wise suggestion that they wait. What appeared as bold unconcern and decisiveness radiated down her spine of steel, held ramrod-straight, but there was a slight tremor in those pale fingers, one he would have missed if he hadn’t been seeking it, just before they closed around the polished metal.

Some strange shiver of foreboding knowledge borne of a life in the forest, in the shadows, constantly on the move, pursued and on the run, made some more-than-tangible knowledge run through him, and Robin’s limbs and muscles were reacting before his mind issued a conscious order. Knowing the proud woman plowing ahead would not heed any words he called out anyway, he had silently reached over his shoulder, pulled an arrow from his quiver, nocked it to his bow, and let it fly before another moment passed, startling Regina enough as its course whistled past her ear to make her jerk back several steps. 

The feathered missile embedded in the heavy oaken portal with the solid “thunk” of a shot ringing true, but to the horror of all, rather than remaining there, vibrating from its landing, the arrow was lost from sight as the entire door was engulfed in instantaneous flames.

Watching the blaze which would undoubtedly have devoured her as well had he allowed her to pull open that door before loosing his arrow, Regina paused for mere moments before whipping around, dark eyes flashing, to arrest him angrily. “That arrow nearly took off my head!” she barked, voice as sharp as jagged glass.

Robin shot back, unable to keep himself from rising to the bait. Her lack of gratitude didn’t even surprise him by that point, but he hadn’t intended to be chastised for his quick-thinking aversion of danger either. “Where I come from a simple thank you would have sufficed.”

The regent’s black eyebrow rose in eloquent derision, making her opinion of where he came from quite clear without speaking a word. Yet, despite that hateful, snarling facade he could see the slight tremor he had previously noticed in her pale hands become a full-body quivering that, while still not plainly visible, had to be making it hard for her to remain standing, much less glaring at him with such vitriol. Her full, blood-red-painted lips trembled minutely as well until her perfect white teeth bit into the lower one, stilling it and making him swallow heavily with some reaction he couldn’t explain. She was shaken; that much he knew. But he could understand refusing to admit fear, not being able to let it show for the sake of those who follow, who must see strength to stay their course.

Thankfully, the clearly magical blaze soon expired and the way before them was as clear and unbarred as all the previous entryways they had encountered. Not without a bit of trepidation, but also as brave and determinedly as he had long since learned their hero contingent to be, Prince Charming and Snow pressed forward, followed anxiously by Belle (whom Robin’s heart panged for as she clearly ached to find the man she loved still able to recognize her and navigate his own mind) and the rest of their group. Regina just to the side, looked for all the world as if she were in no particular hurry to enter and see her former mentor, but could instead care less one way or the other. Hanging back, the outlaw of Sherwood Forest made sure the others had passed through the door and into the other room, well out of hearing, before he stepped up to Regina’s side, drawing almost nose-to-nose with her. He then leaned forward practically brushing the shell of her ear as he murmured. “There’s no need to pretend you’re made of stone, your Majesty…” He put precise emphasis on the title which she had let him know in no uncertain terms she preferred upon their first meeting in the forest. “In fact, with the present company, I believe you might get much further by letting them see that you have doubts and fears, just as they do. I know I like you much better seeing you as more than the Evil Queen.”

At her sharp intake of air with his last pronouncement, he pulled back quickly, half expecting a slap to be stinging his skin at any moment. Instead, he found color rising hotly up her neck, her chest rising and falling strenuously in that ridiculously low-cut corseted gown, and her generally looking more flustered and affected than he had ever seen her before.

She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly for several seconds until her tart tongue seemed to return to her, then spit out a quick, “Insolent bandit,” before moving to brush past him and follow the others.

Something in Robin snapped and surged to life in answer to her challenge; not allowing her to push him aside, he grasped her upper arm firmly and held on, her back to the wall and crowding in close to her, until their breaths were mingling in the same air, their faces were so close. Even as his pulse pounded and his heart rate skyrocketed, Robin wondered what had come over him. The woman had maimed and killed, schemed and plotted for her own selfish ends, and stood for everything he had devoted himself to toppling. She was nothing like his beloved Marian had been; someone with whom he would not have imagined sharing a thing in common - and yet he couldn’t fight the pull he felt. The need to imprint upon her not to put her life at risk so needlessly again.

Sweeping forward, he dove into an all-consuming kiss, taking her mouth with his and giving no quarter, delving further instead, and swallowing the whimper and hum that escaped her throat unconsciously, despite her best attempts to remain unaffected.  

Regina’s hands grappled blindly at his biceps as if trying to steady herself. She scrabbled for solid support before helplessly melting against him, opening for his questing mouth and giving herself over to the heated embrace. When they finally broke for air, she was breathless, and he huffed out a winded chuckle himself when she managed, “Well, Thief, that really was quite pleasant… Even if you do still smell of forest.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Several realms, curses, and years later, in Storybrooke

The three men and their half dozen offspring of various ages creeping through the woods on the border of Storybrooke out near the town line are quiet and intent, completely and unabashedly focused on their prize. Up ahead, atop the small rise of a hill as the sun climbs fully into the cold, clear November morning sky, their prey struts proudly, stopping occasionally to offer its warbled call or peck at the rough ground beneath its feet. They have been tracking the large turkey for some time now, since before day fully dawned, and the time to strike has come at last.

Briefly, the thought flits through Robin’s head that this could be the same tom that had escaped himself and his Merry Men in this same forest years ago, when the hunt had been interrupted by the nightmarish interruption of a winged simian attacker and LIttle John’s subsequent transformation. To this day, the large and otherwise unflappable man stays far away from this particular section of the forest and refuses to go anywhere near the town line on foot. A quick glance at David and his preteen son to the right, then Killian and his little girl and second son to the left, gives him the hint from both men’s expressions that they are also remembering that rather ill-fated day, as bows are readied and last instructions offered.

He can only hope they will face nothing so unexpected this fine morn. The turkey before them has been promised to grace the main table of the large community Thanksgiving feast, and between the three men and their brood of adventurous junior hunters it is a matter of pride that they not return empty-handed today. Roland was promised the first unobstructed shot, and the young man, just barely a teenager but already capable and thoughtful as an adult, has already taken aim and is readying his shot to fly, much to his half-sister Margot’s displeasure as she stands just behind her big brother at Robin’s elbow. She is as untamed and mischievous as Roland is quiet and serious, and was much put out at the decision that Roland as the oldest child should get first chance, arguing rather heatedly that Roland might be biggest but she was the best shot. His blond-braided, green-attired second child is one of the best shots he’s ever seen at barely ten, but if she doesn’t learn to keep her temper and her slightly spoiled younger sibling petulance under control, he is certainly in for further trials in a few years.

Even in the few silent moments afforded him as they all hold their breaths, Rob feels the gratitude and love he has for his children, and the friends and adopted family surrounding them, surge through him with new strength. He had so very nearly left this world, numerous times over, as had the men on either side of him, and the women each of them loved. It was part of the heavy mantle they wore when standing against the Darkness in the world and fighting it back from the light and good time after time. Still, what better time than the present holiday to give thanks for the fact that they are all still standing and present to celebrate together?

Roland lets out a soft breath and then releases the arrow, just as a sharp cry rings out to the left.  His son’s aim is true, but the bird is startled from its perch just in time to have the shot glide by beneath its talons as it takes flight. David on his right is already directing Leo to adjust his aim quickly and get off a second shot, even as Robin’s eyes sweep to where Killian is righting Hope from a tumble over a jutting tree root, brushing off her dark leggings and checking her for injury as she clearly struggles to hold back embarrassed and disappointed tears.

What he hasn’t banked on is his daughter’s inability to wait her turn or hold back any longer. Quick as whip, Margot lets fly, striking the bird right as she intends and sending it toppling from the sky. Mouth falling open in surprise at her audacity and her skill in equal measure, Robin can’t help the surge of pride at his daughter’s prowess, even if he knows he should admonish her for taking Leo’s moment from him and wondering if he should be making certain Roland doesn’t feel overshadowed.  However, his eldest spares him the trouble when he whoops and claps Margot on the shoulder, crying out “You got him on the fly, Sis! Nice one!”

When the whole group converges together, he decides to let the lecture about abiding by the rules and taking turns slide for the time being upon noticing that Leo looks rather relieved that the pressure to prove his mettle before their quarry escaped has been taken off of his shoulders. Instead, he claps his little girl on the shoulder, squeezing with gentle affection until she looks up at him, beaming.  Like her brother before her, she is growing much too fast, turning into a young lady before his eyes, and so for a moment, he lets himself revel in the fact that she still wants to spend time out in the woods with him and wishes to make him proud. Her papa won’t hold the favored spot in her heart forever, so he may as well savor it while he can.

He thinks Killian’s youngest, barely old enough to be tromping around out here with them in truth, looks a bit teary at the downed and unnaturally still bird before them, so he hurries to bag their prize for the journey homeward and puts it out of sight over his shoulder while Killian picks his tired youngest up off his feet and begins asking him how many different types of trees he can recognize from their leaves on the way back. That seems a bit difficult for a five-year-old until little Liam David begins happily babbling (suitably distracted thankfully) and pointing out oaks, maples and scotch pines as the pirate’s unerring sense of direction leads their whole troupe out of the forest toward the main road where they’ve left their trucks, Margot takes his hand, and Hope her grandpa’s, and Roland and Leo fall in behind talking amiably and carrying the bows. Apparently they have a budding naturalist in their midst as well, and Killian Jones - as usual - knows exactly what he is doing.

When he, Roland, and Margot trail back into the mayoral mansion some time later, discarding their muddy boots by the door, but still scattering crumbled leaves and dirt in the entryway, Regina stands in the hall shaking her head, and directs the children toward the laundry room to discard their outerwear before heading up to wash for dinner.  She looks at him, trying to muster exasperation, but unable to do so. That flawless Queen is long gone; she has come a long way since they snapped and snarled at each other in self-preservation back in their home realm, neither wanting to fall in love and risk heartbreak again.

Snatching his jacket collar and pulling him in close, Regina nips at his lips playfully before murmuring against his scruffy cheek, “You still smell like forest,” she mocks, “but somehow you’ve managed to steal my heart.”

He shakes his head, offering back words she’d stunned him with once long ago, “That’s not quite the way I remember it.  If I recall, your heart was given to me,” he whispers, emotion taking over the jest, “and a person can’t steal what’s been given to him.”

All in all, he’s been given much more than a simple archer from Sherwood Forest could have ever hoped.

Tagging a few who might enjoy: @searchingwardrobes @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @laschatzi @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @xarandomdreamx @booksteaandtoomuchtv @kazoosandfannypacks @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @stahlop @anmylica @gingerchangeling @gingerpolyglot @winterbaby89 @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @bdevereaux @thislassishooked

[xinganhao]

🙇‍♂️ svt when you get jealous.

anon → "Could I request SVT reaction to you being jealous? 👀?"

⌗ ┆love a flip of a good trope d(･∀･○) pls note that the ff. members feature manips/edits, so credits go to the rightful owners: jeonghan, joshua, soonyoung, wonwoo

‧₊˚✩彡 includes: f!reader, established relationship, pet names, jealousy 🤭, fluff/crack/etc., [short] headcanons under the cut.

🙇‍♂️ headcanons .ᐟ

— "oh, boy, here we go again" ✩ junhui, wonwoo, mingyu, seungkwan, chan.

anyone dating junhui or mingyu have got to be god's strongest soldiers. both boys would be a little exasperated at your jealousy but they also react to it in their own ways. junhui, for his part, will always crack in the end. he may goad you about all his romance scenes but he's quick to switch up when he thinks he's gone too far. mingyu, on the other hand, focuses on making you realize how ridiculous you are for the (mostly) unfounded jealousy. when that doesn't work, he'll try to distract you with something else. it's not often that you get jealous if you're dating wonwoo— if anything, you might be envious about all the time he spends on his games. when it comes to people, though? he's not about to tolerate you thinking that way. he'll shoot you down quicker than any other member does with his. no pickup lines or pleasantries, here; just the straight truth. seungkwan's reassurances are just a little more on the teasing side but they're never any less sincere. he's the type to be very conscious about not giving you a reason to be jealous in the first place. meanwhile, chan may sometimes be a little more on the clueless side, though he'll always get there eventually. does he joke around about it? most definitely. will he be on your doorstep to pick a (playful) about your jealousy until you can do nothing but succumb to his charm? also yes.

— "so help me, god" ✩ jeonghan, soonyoung, jihoon, vernon.

jihoon would be at an absolute loss™️ in the face of your jealousy. it's a rare thing, for you to be envious of anything outside of the time he spends on work, so he will try to tread lightly. the way he fumbles about attempting to reassure you is endearing enough for you to forget what you were so upset about in the first place. jeonghan is one of the rare ones who would try to incite your jealousy; what can he say? he likes poking the bear sometimes. but he's also the image of someone who can dish it but can't take it. if he's met with your petulance, he'll fall on his knees in any/all attempt to get back in your good graces. soonyoung's plenty oblivious when it comes to what might make you jealous. you can expect him to pull out the pout and puppy dog eyes when trying to convince you not to be upset. and, oh– vernon is oblivious to the point where it's almost painful. he won't get that someone's into him until you point it out. when you do, though, he'll do everything in his power to allay your concerns.

— "you're the only one" ✩ seungcheol, joshua, seokmin, minghao.

minghao comes from a family where his parents only have eyes for each other, so it makes sense for him to also be the same. reassurance comes easy for him; he'll never joke about your feelings and he'll talk you through it, even. at any given chance, he makes it abundantly clear that he's spoken for. there's no hiding from joshua, either. he's too perceptive for his own good and he'll know if you're jealous, even if you try to hide it. he never blames you for how you're feeling and his focus is on how he can avoid making you feel that way on the future. seungcheol is the type who'd be a little endeared, even, that you get jealous. he likes it if his partner is a little possessive and territorial. you can tell that he's smug about it, though ultimately he'll play in to your little charade. seokmin, on the flipside, is a big believer of nipping things in the bud. if he thinks anything might make you jealous, he's already keeping you from overthinking before it can start. he's not going to have you questioning yourself; not on his watch.

[at1nys-blog]

A change of heart

Pairing: Kakashi Hatake x Naruto mother figure!reader

Summary: Naruto has left to train with Jiraya and you are left to wonder if he is doing okay.

A/N: let me get this out of my system thanks a lot don’t know if is going to kill my writer’s block but I see what happens with the asks I have in my draft. I have no idea what this is, if is bad please pretend nothing was written🙃. This is the longer ff I have wrote and is just crazy to me lol @charming-cherry0 here the Kakashi’s ff I’ve talked about hope you like it

You gave up a life filled with missions; a life of notority for the love you had-and still have to this day-for the people that took you in and raised you when your family died. You had promised to Minato and Kushina that you would take care of their son if anything happened to them. You didn't expect to fill in the role of a mother this soon.

When they sacrified themselves for the security of Konoha you were initially mad at them, leaving you just like your biological family did. Of course it wasn't their plan to die this young, not when they just became partens for the second time. You had to live with the fact that you had a job do to, to take care of your little brother Naruto.

Time passed, Naruto grew up and you couldn't help but being reminded about that night. Mostly because the villagers would always bring it up when walking past you and the Jinchūriki, making the young ninja ask questions, and you had to tell him white lies about it, the Third Hokage had made everyone promise to never reveal the true identity of his parents.

It broke your heart to lie to him, keeping him in the shadows of his lineage, but you knew that if words spread he was the son of the famous Minato Namikaze, the Fourth Hokage of the Leaf Village, he was going to be in more danger than he already was for having a tailed beast sealed into him.

It broke your heart when Naruto would come home faking a smile. You noticed he had been secretly crying, his puffy red eyes giving away his secret, but you never commented on them, instead you made sure to remind him that there were more important metters than caring about what people had to say about it. It always brought a sincere smile on his beautiful features.

With time, his pranks and shenanigans never stopped, and so your profusely apologizes to the villagers, who only rolled their eyes to you and whispered under their breath what a terrible guardian you were to the kid. "If he doesn't know how to behave is because he is not getting a proper education" they always said and you had to control yourself and not yelling at them that you were doing your best as a young girl yourself. Sometimes Naruto would hear the adults making fun of you, and this was one of the reasons why he would be mean to them, throwing ramen leftovers on their face or sticking out his foot to make them trip.

"Naruto, what happened? Why would do that to them?" you would ask him once in confinement of your apartament, away from prying eyes and ears. He would only say that he felt like it, or that they had been making fun of him. He didn't want to make you doubt your skills as a parental figure, not when he too knew he wasn't an easy kid to take care of. You would scoff and tell him to got to his room and do some homeworks while you would make dinner.

With time, things started to get better. Naruto had came to you one day revealing that he was determined to befriend Sasuke Uchiha, at the mention of the clan that got massacred your mind went back to when you had met the boy's mother before the tragedies that took place at the village and you smiled at him. Assuring him that one day, the two of them would the best of friends, you didn't know that was taking them a long time to get there.

It was when Naruto failed the gennin exam that you felt like a failure, if he didn't came to you for help it had to be because you weren't doing a good job of reassuring the boy he could rely on you, but oh how wrong you were. Naruto loved you dearly, and was grateful to have you in his life so he couldn't let you down, he had to make you proud of him and he thought that coming to you for help was a sign of weakness for him and he didn't want to show you he was weak.

You cried, for the first time in front of him, that night after he had told you all of that. Hugging like your lives depended on that you assured him that it was okay to show weakness, for him he was just a kid. From that night he never kept sectres from you, well maybe just the fact that he knew that people still belittled you by doing a poor job raising him.

You never, in your life, were jealous of people but since Kakashi Hatake became the sensei assigned to Naruto's team you discovered a new emotion: jealousy.

You had heard about the shinobi in question, how could you not? He was famous because of his father and for his talents. While at the academy you never interacted much with him and he kept a distance from you too, the two of you had nothing in common but the fact that your adoptive father was his teacher, that was it. Nothing less, nothing more. One single person in common wasn't a reason strong enough to bring the two of you to talk to each other for more than five minutes. But now? How much you wished to be able to take off your ears, because honestly? You couldn't stand another day hearing about the man.

Naruto was smittered with him, sure Kakashi sometimes was harsh with him but he was a great teacher. He couldn't stop talking about him, not only that but the constant talk of the town on how lucky Naruto was to have such a mature and responsible teacher made all your hard work seem trivial. The villagers kept on belittling you by putting on a pedestal Kakashi Hatake, the gem of the Leaf Village.

It had been a week since Naruto left Konoha alongside Jiraya, a week without a single word from him informing you about his days with the legendary ninja and his training sessions, a week worrying about the boy. Was he eating enough? Was he resting enough? Is he spending his money wisely or is he spending it for useless things? You couldn't stop thinking about how he was doing away from you.

"Earth's calling Y/N." you heard the voice of Kakashi from the other side of the window of the shop. You rolled your eyes upon seeing him laying hands on the windowsill with his book on sight. You turn around, asking him what he needed in such a late hour at your store. "saw the light was on and decided to see if you needed anything"

"Nothing if it's coming from you." you simply said walking towards the register to collect your things before heading back home. You didn't hear him jump into the store, his movements always quiet as if he is always on a mission of some sorts, you didn't even hear him closing the window, only when you turned to leave the store you noticed what he has been doing. "you need anything?" you mocked him, your words harsh because why was he so suddenly paying you a visit after closing hour?

"I don't need anything. Again I saw the li-" you cut him off, taking out the keys you unlocked the door and invited him outside. He didn't say anything, just followed your silent instructions and waited next to you to lock the door again. "heading home?"

"What do you think?" his presence was annoying you, you didn't want to be seen with him walking around the village, who knew what terrible things people would say if they saw you with such loved shinobi like him. "Hatake you don't have to walk me home, I still remember how to protect myself" it was true, all those year of combat training were still present in your muscle memory so you could have managed just fine if something were to happen to you. He didn't care, keeping you company on your way home.

"I just want to catch up with an old friend, is that wrong?" you halted at his words? Friends? Since when did he consider you a friend? The last time you checked the two of you even spoke was during the attack of the Nine tailed fox on the village, and just because you had to inform him about a change in the original plans.

He noticed your absence a couple of seconds later, turning around he asked you what happened that got you to stop in your tracks.

"I'm sorry, since when are we friends?" Kakashi was about to answer but you didn't give him the chance to add anything. "Listen, just because you are Naruto's teacher does not mean you and me are friends. And before I say anything that I will regret later please go home. I don't need to be reminded that I am a pathetic excuse of a mother." you whispered the last part, you didn't need him to know how you felt.

Kakashi heard you, loud and clear. He knew you were critisized by the villagers. He came across a couple of people that would praise him by belittling you, the ninja had always took your side, defending you against the mean words spoke behind your back. He didn't fight you, he didn't comment on your sentence, he was sure whatever he said wasn't going to make you feel better.

That night you cried, alone in the apartament you shared with Naruto and that was going to feel cold until he was back from his training. You knew that those three years without him were going to be long.

The next morning you woke up tired, giving a quick look at the pillow you could tell you cried yourself to sleep. The sight in the bathroom's mirror could confirm your theory, not that it was that hard to come to the conclusion of that, after what happened last night it was either that or you had spilled some water on it. The latter being the last possible.

Once you were finally ready to go and open the doors of your shop, you were faced with a toad at your doorstep, you can tell is one of Jiraya's because the animal is too big to be a common one. Is only when you took a second look that you noticed it had an envelope between its hands, you asked permission to take it from the animal and when the envolope was in yours the toad disappeared. You smiled reading the name of Naruto on the paper. Today was going to be great.

Dear Y/N,

sorry if I haven't written to you sooner but this week my days were filled with learning new techniques with the Ero-sennin that I totally forgot to inform you about my days. You don't have to worry about me, the Toad Sage reminds me to not overwork myself. I am eating a lot of good and tasy food. My sleeping schedule is not the best but I always remember your words about how important a good sleep is to become stronger.

I miss you very much, take care of the shop and eat a lot of ramen for me too.

Love you, Naruto.

The letter finished with his signature thumb print and a smiley face next to it, you smiled thanking that he remembered you while away for training.

The door of the shop opened, and you looked up from the letter to invite in your first client of the day but upon seeing Kakashi you rolled your eyes annoyed by his presence already.

"I don't think rolling your eyes is a good way to make your costumers feel welcomed" he commented.

"Why are you here?" you asked walking in front of the your desk. "and don't you dare to say that you just want to have a talk with a friend because I'm pretty sure I made it clear yesterday that we aren't friends." your tone was calm but the point came across to the shinobi, you didn't want to have him around.

"I'm here in peace. I want to look for something to buy, that's all." he said, intertwining his hands behind the back of his head he started walking around the store.

"You do realize this is a store that has nothing for you, right?" your shop was filled with clothes and accessories for the female villagers, nothing that Kakashi could wear or use even if he wanted to. The sizes were too small for him and you could swear he is not the type to take a bag with him. You pictured him with a couple of hairpins but only in the secrecy of his apartament, never outside. You scoffed at the imagine of him securing his white hair with pretty pins.

"I never said it was for me. I said I'm looking for something to buy." he repeated, deciding to not ask you why were you scoffing so out of the blue. "Asuma wants to surprise Kurenai and I offered to help him find something that she might like" you were taken aback, you never imagined him to be someone that would offer his help to look for gifts. "oh by the way, do you know if Naruto is okay? That ungrateful kid didn't write me a letter yet." you totally missed the little smile that formed on his face, both because you were facing his back and because of the mask he never takes off his face.

"I, actually, got a letter from him this morning." you said happy that Naruto wrote to you first than Kakashi, even though he had wrote at the two of you simultaneously, but what you didn't know couldn't hurt you, right? and Kakashi kept that information for himself when he heard your teasing tone. He didn't want to ruin your day, not after what you had said yesterday.

"That kid, forgetting about his teacher like I mean nothing to him." he commented looking at some hair clips with a charm at the end, he took a couple of them and came to you asking for which one you prefered. You choose the wooden one with the red details reminding him that most of Kurenai's outfits involved the color red. He thanked you and paid for the object.

"You mean a lot to Naruto, more than I like to admit honestly." you told him before he could leave the store. "Thank you for everything you do and for taking care of him when I can't" you confessed. He only smiled at you, wishing you a good day and promising that he wasn't going to bother you for the rest of the day.

Months passed and once a week you would get a visit from one of Jiraya's toads delivering at your doorsteps a letter from Naruto informing you about his days with the Toads Sage and how much he is improving his ninja's skills and you, oh so wished to write to him how proud you were, but his safety came first and if you wrote to him the Akatsuki would probably find him, risking to get kidnapped. You just made a note to yourself to tell him that, the moment he was back to Konoha.

Naruto’s letters weren’t the only thing keeping you company and making you smile, Kakashi was another reason why your days weren’t too boring. He would come to your shop, pretending to look around and then waiting for you to close up so he could walk you home, asking about your day, asking what Naruto had told you in his letter that week, talking about his missions (if he was allowed) and about Guy. The stories about his friend were the one you anticipated the most if you had to be honest.

When he started to hang around more, you were annoyed at him, mostly because you knew people would talk behind your back, making comments questioning why Kakashi Hatake, one of the most renowned shinobi of the village was friend with someone like you. Someone that failed both as a shinobi and as a parental figure. Their words were just speculations, you knew that, everything was far away from the truth but they still hurt you.

"She was a great shinobi and gave up all of it just because of a kid." you heard someone commenting while walking past Ramen Ichiraku, his friend scoffed saying that if you gave up so easily to take care of Naruto it was because you weren't that good as a ninja to start with.

"She failed as a ninja and as a mother. If Naruto thinks he can do whatever he wants is all her fault." he added half drunk. You had to stop in your tracks, not because you wanted to know how the conversation would move on, you didn't care much, but you had to take a deep breath before breaking down in the middle of the street. The day didn’t start in the best way and it was going to end even worse if you were to show yourself weak in front of others.

"She was the only one that could keep up with me." you recognized the voice, how could you not? It was Kakashi. "and she could kick your asses if she only wanted." he stopped, you thought to eat some more portion of ramen or to drink some water. "She did her best considering her young age and the fact that everyone was against her. Leave her alone already, she went through so much and doesn't need such remarks from people that don't even know her." The other two ninjas didn’t talk back, and you headed back home assuming they dropped the conversation there. Nothing else to add after Kakashi called them out.

Walking down memory lane that night you rememberer how during your days at the academy you thought you didn’t like Kakashi, but with time you realized you hated him. Growing up you matured and came to the conclusion that hate was such a strong emotion to feel for someone that you had nothing to do with, it was jealousy, not hatred. It could never be hatred. Now, at the doorsteps of your thirties you had to admit you were envious of him.

You envied Kakashi because he was naturally talented; you envied him because every kid always talked about him; you envied him because he was liked by all the people of Konoha; you envied him because he was everything that you could have been if life didn’t throw you a tragedy after another. You went to sleep with Kakashi’s words still in your mind and with apologizing to Kakashi on your to-do list.

That morning was rather...calm, the sky being grey didn't allow the birds to fly away from their nests and you imagined today was going to be pretty slow since people didn't like to go out with such a weather.

Opening the door of your house you bumped into Kakashi, standing there with a Bangasa* umbrella in hand.

“What are you doing here?” You asked visibly, and rightly so, confused at his presence in front of your door.

“Walking you to work? I need to be gone for a mission after lunch so I thought that maybe I could spend some time with you before leaving. If you are fine with it, of course.” You were fine with the idea of him walking you to work but the fact that he was leaving for a mission wasn’t in your plans. You decided to wait when he was back to talk to him, you didn’t want to distract him while on a mission. “So…”

“Sorry. I’m… that’s okay and really, you don’t have to spend time with me.” You said locking your door.

“But I want to. And you know, we can’t tell if I’m coming back to Konoha in one piece.” He teased but you took it seriously, knowing that you had a conversation planned with him.

“You better come back in one piece I… I have something I would like to discuss with you.” Kakashi was curious and asking to explain further your words, you repeated that it had to wait when he was done with the mission. “I just don’t wanna distract you.”

“You would never distract me. Come on, tell me.” Giving in sounded so easy and it was. The apology rolling out your mouth in a second. “And it had to wait for the mission to be over because…” you didn’t know, it was stupid considering you just had to apologize to him. Maybe you thought he was going to add more than a simple ‘thank you’, what exactly were you expecting was a mystery to you too. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to tell me.” He added before you could express your reasoning, if there were any.

As he said he spent half the day at your shop, in the corner he made himself with time. He was quiet, reading his book and not exchanging words with the women that wanted to talk to him. They didn’t exist to him.

At lunch he stood up from his chair (yours but you never used it so he decided to claim it as his) and took out of the pocket of his vest a small white stone, you recognized it, it was an opal.

“I read it is good for protection. Never go out without it until I’m back.” You smiled at him and thanked him. “Or… don’t I don’t know. I was told… I thought you would like it.”

“I love it. Just, make sure to be back safe and sound. I don’t want to plan your funeral, I still don’t like you.” You joked. He smiled under the mask, his visible eye squinting a little bit.

“Don’t worry, Guy has everything planned for my funeral already.” He joked “see you when I’m back.” He added before leaving the shop. You watched him walk out when one of your costumers nudged at you.

“He is a good catch, confess already.” You blushed at her words and made sure she understood that you felt nothing more than admiration towards the ninja. “Whatever makes you sleep at night.” She said before paying for the necklace she had chosen.

The mission took longer than what you expected, and since your apologizes to Kakashi you bumped into his friends more than usual (Guy drunk told you he asked them to keep you company when possible) but you didn’t mind their presence. Since Naruto left you realized he was your only friend.

Kurenai was a sweet woman, always making sure you were doing fine and making sure if you had eaten enough for the day; Asuma was quiet, mostly sticking around Kurenai and promising you he would quit smoking (he never did); Guy was the funniest of the trio, telling you stories about when he and Kakashi were younger and even if you knew some of them already you let him talk.

Waking up, you looked at the calendar on your little desk, the day circled in orange was a reminder of the anniversary of the death of Minato and Kushina. It was the first time you went to their grave all by yourself and thinking about it you didn’t want to go anymore. Maybe staying all day home wasn’t a bad idea after all.

You wished Kakashi didn’t get his friends to be on your neck 24/7 because the second you laid down in bed you noticed the three ninjas outside your bedroom window.

“Why are you guys here?” You asked looking at them.

“Because we don’t want you to rot in your bed today.” Answered Guy “get off bed and get ready” he added.

“Ready for what?”

“We have a little surprise for you.” Asuma was the one answering your question. “Come on.” You sighed rolling your eyes before leaving the bed once again. “Good choice.”

Getting ready with your mind elsewhere wasn’t easy but you wouldn’t dare make the three ninjas outside your house tell you, once again, to move already.

Stepping out your apartment you wanted to go back in, whose idea was to blindfold you? And, most importantly, why would they blindfold you? Kurenai assured you it was her idea, you doubted that but there wasn’t time to fight if she was lying or not, and that you had to trust them.

Is not like you didn’t trust them but the fact that they just decided to take you out and blindfold you wasn’t helping at all. You decided to follow their instructions, without complaining.

The spot was a special one for you, not because it was anything secluded (if it was your friends couldn’t be able to find it) but because it was where Minato, Kushina and you liked to spend time together. It was your little piece of Heaven on Earth until…

“You didn’t had to” you told them, because they really didn’t had to prepare a picnic for you.

“We wanted to” replayed Kurenai “and besides what a best way to remember them than spending some time at their favorite secret place” she added up, smile on her face.

“If the dishes are not of your taste blame it on Kakashi, he suggested those” explained Guy

“Pretty sure he remembers his sensei’s favorite foods so I’m not even surprised.” You were, because those were mostly your favorite dishes (also some of Minato and Kushina’s).

The four of you started eating and in the mean time ended up talking about the Fourth Hogake and his wife, the three ninjas asking you about how the two deceased shinobi were in the privacy of their house and you laughed at the memories.

“Okay, okay let me just…” you cleared your throat and took a sip of sake before speaking again. “…I would tell you curious cats all about my lovely parents that died to save the village that hates me” everyone laughed at your tipsy words.

Standing up you try to stay as in equilibrium as possible before speaking again. And you started from the beginning, from when Kushina found you crying your eyes out over your parents’ dead bodies. She comforted you, telling you everything was going to be okay, and she took you with her, there is when you met Minato and Jiraya for the first time.

You told them how Minato was a lovely fiancée to Kushina and how he was always helping around the house without a sense of shame whatsoever, you admired him for that wishing for yourself a man that could help around the house without complaining that he shouldn’t do such things since ‘he is a man’

“That sounds like Kakashi if I have to be honest” cut you off Asuma and you laughed it off, maybe he was right but you and Kakashi? Engaged? No thank you. Talking about them some more you arrived at the day they sacrificed themselves and your happy smile dissolved from your features, leaving space to a more serious expression.

“No one knows, not even Kakashi I guess but I need to be honest about it. I hated them for quite a bit. They promised me to never leave me alone. That they would never do like my biological parents did and yet… but they didn’t leave me alone, no sir. They put the responsibility of raising a child on my shoulders and I was only 15 years old. I hated it, I couldn’t look at Naruto without thinking about them and for a couple of months I didn’t take care of him like I promised. Then one day I saw Kakashi…” another sip of sake “…and he looked like nothing was bothering him, he had moved on faster compared to me, he made it seems so easy and I hated him for that. I hated how fast he had moved on, I hated him so much that I felt like I had to prove a point. I still don’t know what the point was supposed to be, but I think it helped me come to my senses and do what I was supposed to do for the past three months.”

Asuma, Kurenai and Guy were left speechless at your words and you mentally thanked them for keeping their judgmental thoughts for themselves. Because if they spoke their minds you would have hated it.

You spent the whole day eating and training with the three shinobi and you are happy to be able to get back to the old days when you would train with them when you weren’t yet stripped of your position as a ninja of the Leaf Village.

You are a little rusty, I mean after 17 years of working in a jewelry shop everyone would be, but you managed to take down Guy and Asuma a couple of times. It was after the sun set that your friends decided it was time to go home and after your thank yous they left you alone with your thoughts.

You stayed some more, looking at the horizon with one thing in mind: Kakashi Hatake. You wished he was there with you, he was the only one, after you, to have spent the majority of his time alongside Minato. Rin was dead, to keep the village safe, Obito died to save Kakashi and he was away for a mission that would take his life away if he wasn’t careful enough.

Walking up the stairs you didn’t notice the “bread crumbs” left on the steps, only when you reached the top and see Kakashi in front of your door that you notice he is holding something in his hands.

You look back noticing the petals of Kushina’s favorite flower. Your eyes tear up at the memory and the fact that you didn’t allowed yourself to look at those flowers ever again.

“Surprise.” He said and when you turn around to face him his small smile disappeared and his expression turned worried. You don’t have the time to fall on your knees that he is holding your shaking body into his. Your cries filling the silent night. “Is okay, I’m here now.” And you keep crying holding into him for dear life.

It took you a couple of minutes to stop crying and even then you kept on sobbing every now and then. Kakashi took off his fingerless gloves and started wiping away the tears on your face.

“I miss them” you said hiccuping your words to him. He doesn’t say much, just that he understands the pain in your heart because he misses them too. “Please don’t you leave me too” his heart aches at your words and he keeps on drying up your face assuring you that he wasn’t going anywhere without you.

He helps you up and walks you to the door and you wished you were able to function but no. With shaky hands you dropped the keys on the floor but he is there, helping you in every way possible without judgement.

Entering he made you sit down at the dinner table and while you tried your best to recollect yourself he filled up a glass of water.

“Drink up everything you are drained” he commented and you listened to him (mostly because you were truly thirsty) and chunked the whole glass down. It was refreshing you though. “Sorry if I made you cry, it wasn’t my intention”

“It wasn’t your fault. I think it was the build up pain.” You didn’t mean to tell him about it but you did regardless. Telling him how you never properly mourned their death because first you hated them for leaving you and then you had a child to take care of and you couldn’t dwell in your pain.

“I hated Minato for a while too.” He confessed and you were speechless at the confession. You always thought he had moved on pretty fast after what he had been through, you imagined he was used to people leaving him behind. You were so wrong about all of it and you felt guilty you felt like crying again. But you didn’t, you couldn’t because Kakashi told you to get ready for bed. “If you need me here I can sleep over.”

You find yourself almost using the L word in that moment, if it was out of friendship love or romantic you didn’t know. You knew you were grateful for him in that moment. You tell him he could sleep in Naruto’s bed and he nods at your proposition. That night you had a good sleep, one you haven’t had in years and that you truly needed and you only had to thank Kakashi Hatake for that.

It was during dead time that you heard Konohamaru screaming from the top of his lungs that Naruto "big brother" was back from his three years training. You rushed outside, locking the shop as fast possible. Running behind the Third Hokage's grandchild on your way to see Naruto you almost bumped into Kakashi.

"where are you running to?" he asked, following behind you.

"Naruto is back" Konohamaru and you said in unison, Kakashi speeding up and catching up with the two of you. He wanted to meet his student because he too have been missing him lots during those three years.

Kakashi stayed behind, never passing by you. The shinobi wanted for you to be the first one to see Naruto, considering the relationship that binds the two of you and for the fact that the young ninja didn't write that week (Kakashi hopes that Naruto did it on purpose but he imagines the kid just genuinely forgot), and you did, between the three of you, you spot him first. He was talking with Sakura, the girl was mad at him for something you didn't even care to find out. It was when the kid you raised as your own spotted you that he ran to you. He hugged you, hands around your middle and lifted you making you squeal out of surprise.

"why didn't you wrote me you were coming at the village?" you said once he put you down. "I was going to think something had happen to you" he scratched the back of his head giving you a nervous smile. Before he could apologize properly Konohamaru was all over him asking him questions about the time he was away and reminding him about the promise the older ninja made before leaving (a stupid challenge about who performs better the Sexy Jutsu Naruto invented). You noticed Sakura rolling his eyes, Moegi doing the same.

You felt Kakashi lightly hugging you from the side, and you didn't mind the presence of the ninja, not when you apologized for your shitty behaviour. Since that day your relationship with Kakashi got better day after day to the point where you started having feelings for the man, romanic ones to be pricise.

"what is happening between the two of you?" he asked, looking confused to why you weren't at Kakashi's throat for being this close to your figure. "are you fucking my mom?" you were able to feel hear Kakashi stiffening at those words, who wouldn't when accused of such an intimate, and very personal, activity. "you know what? I don't actually want to know. Treat her right or I am coming for you, I know where you live" he threatened him and both you and Kakashi weren't able to say much back before he excused himself saying he had to report to Granda Tsunade frst thing first.

As you were left with Sakura, team Ebisu and Kakashi you cleared your throat ready to explain that the only thing that there was between Kakashi and you was pure frienship. Nothing more, nothing less.

"not to be that person..." started to speak Sakura "but I never, ever, saw Kakashi sensei interested in a woman like he is with you." she shrugged her shoulders when you gave her a death stare. "Just saying. By the way, gotta make sure Naruto doesn't get in trouble with the Hokage" you pinched the bridge of your nose, inhaling deep to keep calm. When you opened back your eyes you noticed the younger ninjas looking at you.

"You three better get to training before I rat you out to Ebisu Sensei" Konohamaru wasn't didn't care, you could tell, the smirk selling away his thoughts on the entire situation.

"Kids those days, always telling lies" you tried your best to light up the mood but Kakashi's espression told you you were failing. "you don't... you don't think so?"

"totally, yeah. Kids teasing their teacher like there is no tomorrow." he said, heading back to his apartment avoiding any type of contact with you. You follow behind him, your shop being in the same direction as his house.

"I'm sorry for Naruto. I will make sure he apologizes to you as soon as possible." he doesn't answer, keeping his pace slow so you were able to keep up with him. "I would suggest he pays for whatever you would like, you know, as a little revenge" he chuckled a little and you were happy that he finally was able to let Naruto's words bahind him.

Kakashi kept you company at the shop, helping some costumers that mostly wanted to engage in a conversation with him. Mostly to ask him if he was single and what type of girls he liked, he nervously laghed at them trying his best to change the topic.

Looking at the interaction you couldn't help but smile at it. The way he softly smiled at those ladies trying to set him up. The way he would try and subtly change the subject. The way he would walk them out with gentle hands.

He scoffed, walking to the cash register he takes his head between his hands complaining about the ladies of the village doing whatever they were trying to achieve.

"I mean, you are old and never been seen with a partner of any sorts. You spend all your time with your students or out for missions." you tell him, pushing his elbows away from the desk. "they like you and they want to see you settled down. That's it" Kakashi and you were discussing about the fact that he doesn’t want to settle down with the first woman people would set him up with, he wants to meet someone and grew with them, embrancing their qualities but also their flaws and he does tell you that. Soft boy, was your first thought at his words.

The bell at the top of the door rang and shifting your gaze to the entrance you saw Naruto with his signature smile on display.

"Ehy mom, I came to tell you that I need to go first thing in the morning for a mission."

"So soon? But you just..." looking how his joyful look turned into a more serious one you knew it was about Sasuke, it had to be about him. "I get it. Do you at least have the time to eat with me before you leave?" he nodded and you told him, and Kakashi to wait for you outside so you could finish cleaning before closing the shop.

Walking to Ichiraku Naruto revealed some new details that he couldn't share before about his days with the Ero-Sennin and you had a good laugh with him. Kakashi didn't intrude much, for what reason you couldn't tell, but it didn't care at the moment becuase you were back with your favourite boy.

Teuchi welcomed the three of you and so did his daughter, a little smirk forming on his face at the sight of Kakashi.

"Introducing the boyfriend to the family?" she said earning a little spank on her back from her father.

"He is not my boyfriend Ayame, how many times do I have to tell you?" you complied at her statement.

"But you wished he was?" said the younger ones, you turned to Naruto looking at him in confusion, what gave him such an idea? "I mean I come back and you haven't yelled at him once."

"This doesn't mean I want him to be my boyfriend but just that me and Kakashi talked out our.."

"yours" he interjected and you rolled your eyes at him.

"Yeah, my problems..." you said looking at Kakashi "...we became friends with time. Nothing wrong with it" you said and then asked Teuchi for three ramens.

While Teuchi and Anyame prepare your food Naruto was curios to know how it happened, he clearly remembered you saying that there was no way you would change your mind on Kakashi, and here you were, sharing some ramen with the person you were supposed to hate the most in this world.

You told him about how everything changed between his sensei and you when you apologize to him and that you find out a different side of him when he helped you during your breakdown. Since then you did everything together, let it be a little stroll around Konoha or having lunch during your breaks at the shop.

“With time I started liking him.” You said “oh thank you for the food.” You take a spoonful of it and complimented Teuchi. “You see, with time you can understand who truly cares for you.” That was a little jab at Naruto because you never liked Sakura for him. Sure they were good friends now, but the way she treated him at the beginning ot their training times? It wasn’t what you had expected from a team mate.

“Don’t get all philosophical on the kid already.” Commented Kakashi. You gave him a side eye. “Sorry but he just arrived after three years with Jiraya what do you think he will understand if you use big words to him?”

“I’m not stupid”

“He is not stupid” Kakashi turned around when he heard Teuchi and Ayame defending Naruto as well. “The kid just ignores some things.” Carried on the owner of the ramen shop. “I mean a LOT of things but is not his problem. He took after his mother.” You laughed, remembering Kushina being just like him when you first met her. She calmed down a little bit, still being her silly self, now that you were under her care.

Naruto finally dropped the previous conversation, more interested in knowing more about his mother now that the man mentioned her. Sure you had talked to him about his parents but you didn’t know much about them before you became part of their family so while he is intrigued about stories of his young parents from Teuchi you kept an eye on him, smiling at his shiny eyes at the stories he is told.

Once you were done eating Kakashi payed for the three of us and you thanked him for the gesture. Naruto complained, if he knew his sensei would have been the one paying he would have got a second portion to take home for you just to rise the bill a little bit and annoy his sensei.

“You want us to walk you at the gates?” You asked making sure you weren’t too much of a burden for him since he had to be at the gates before sun rise. He “uhmed” in response and you are quite happy that you can spend some more time with him.

“I wouldn’t be too mad at Kakashi if he tried something.” Naruto spoke when he was able to see the gates of Konoha. You and Kakashi stopped in your tracks both looking at him with wide eyes. “I want you to be happy and if he makes you happy I’m okay.” He kissed you goodbye before sprinting away where his friends and team mates for the Sasuke rescue team were waiting for him.

You were left alone with Kakashi next to you, with nothing to say due to Naruto’s confession. What were you supposed to say? What were you supposed to do? You wished Kurenai was there to give you some advice on it but she wasn’t. And even if she was she wouldn’t be much of help because she would be too occupied teasing you.

“So… do I make you happy? Because you sure make me happy.” Kakashi cut the silence and you wished he didn’t, not like that at least.

“You annoy me, that’s different.” You rolled your eyes at him and started walking towards your apartment. It took him some minutes to realize your words and when he does, he runs behind you catching up with you almost immediately him and his stupid long legs.

“Ehy, what do you mean I annoy you? You said you started to like me.”

“Again, it doesn’t mean you don’t annoy me sometimes.” You keep teasing him and he missed the way you smiled at him. And you miss the way he does the same.

It was in front of your porch that he cups your face and looked deep into your eyes before asking permission to kiss you and you gave him the green light to do so. The kiss is gentle, and short lived but you didn’t care. You invite him inside and this time you let him sleep in your bed.

[squoxle]

˚₊‧꒰ა All Good Girls Burn In Hell ♡ S.Eunseok ff ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

💠pairing: Eunseok x Reader!afab | 💠wc: 7.1k | 💠cw: profanity, religious themes, drug use, abuse, coercion, protected and unprotected sex | 💠plot: Your tired of being mommy’s little girl so you sneak out to a college party with the Devil’s Advocate…

With the pressure of being the perfect daughter weighing on your shoulders, the last thing you needed right now was a boy. Especially not when that boy was Song Eunseok He was everything you weren’t and the complete opposite of what your parents believed in. Rule Breaker. Trouble Maker. Bad Boy.

His beauty... charmed you like a snake, entrapping you in his comforting grasp before crushing the life out of you.

His words... were like the devil’s music, enchanting you with his lovely tune as he led you down a path of darkness.

And his eyes... God his eyes were the most delicate yet aggressive feature of his face. Boldly standing out with a gentle aura surrounding them.

He was the perfect temptation. Sent by Satan himself to draw you away from purity and righteousness.

And you were the perfect target. You were weak and he could tell, which is what made corrupting you that much easier.

Your home life was just about as chaotic as you'd expect an extremely religious family to be.

“Honor thy father and thy mother, for this is the first commandment with promise,” she would say this whenever you did anything remotely ‘disrespectful’ in her eyes. “Don’t you want to live a long and happy life?”

Sometimes her words felt like vain repetition or taunts echoing through your head, as her method of reprimanding you often came in the form of lectures.

The neurotic controlling nature of your mother could only be tamed by one thing—aside from the public eye—and that one thing was…your father.

Unfortunately he was no longer around and your mother often blamed you for his absence.

Your mother taught you that a wife should submit to her husband for he is the head of the family and you--as his wife--are to be his helpmate.

Though that sounds fair, for the most part, Mom had a much harsher way of embedding what she believed into the lives of her children. Especially her daughters.

After your rebellious older sister ran off 4 years ago with her motorcycle-riding girlfriend, all hell broke loose at home. You had now been promoted to the oldest of the siblings and were therefore subject to physical pain on top of everything else. It felt like you permanently resided within the confines of a chapel, which often felt more like a prison than a home.

You’d had enough of this torture. You needed a break away from the unreasonably structured environment. Just for once, you wanted to feel like you were the one pulling the strings.

Never did you expect to hand your strings over to a new puppet master.

To keep things brief, you'd met Eunseok through your best friend Faith. Ironically, she was a girl you met at Sunday school in 9th grade who definitely wasn’t the perfect little angel people thought she was.

One time her dad almost caught her smoking outside. The way she launched that bud halfway across the street before sticking a sucker in her mouth was insane. Another time you could remember her telling you the story of how she snuck a boy into her room to have sex while her parents were sleeping…well the boy was her boyfriend, but still.

She had a wild side that you found alluring. Which made you wonder if you had a one too, well one apart from the scenarios you enacted in your imagination.

As a freshman in college, you were ready to try to relax a little.

"Or maybe not," you thought to yourself as you woke up to the sound of religious music playing from the kitchen. Your mother did this nearly every morning at the exact same time, almost like clockwork.

You could smell the coffee brewing, coupled with the scent of bread toasting. You knew you could only roll around in bed for a few more minutes before it was time to get up. Not only did you still have a bedtime, but you also had a specific time to wake up. No later than 8 o'clock were you expected to be out of your pajamas and have your bed made.

"Nothing comes to a man in his sleep, but dreams," another saying your mother loved repeating.

You lived in a house with two younger twin brothers and shared a room with your big sister. Though, now that she was gone, dust bunnies were the only thing sleeping in her bed.

One thing you had to learn was to be the first one in the bathroom. Sometimes you'd get up earlier to avoid the chaotic morning bustle.

After getting dressed you grabbed an apple for breakfast and waited for your mom to drop you off for your first day of uni. Luckily, you and Faith were going to the same university, so that eliminated the anxiety that came with being completely alone on a huge campus for the next four years of your life.

Unfortunately, loneliness, like most of your other personal problems, was none of your mother's concern. "Read and pray," she'd tell you. "The Lord will comfort you."

As this was your first semester in college, you decided to knock out a good chunk of your core classes, English, Math, History, and Politics.

After 3 hours that felt more like a lifetime, your first lecture had finally ended. By now hungry didn't compare to what you were experiencing right now. Unfortunately, you forgot to bring your wallet which meant that water would have to fill you up for now.

“I can already tell this semester is going suck ass. And the next 16 weeks of my life or going to be a nightmare from hell,” Faith sighed as she dropped her backpack on the ground beside her.

You had met up with her outside at one of the round red tables that were scattered across the open green field.

"Oh, come on you can’t say that. It’s only the first day, give it about a week or so, and then see if you still feel the same way," you said trying to encourage her to look on the bright side.

"No, you don’t get it. This guy hates me, like literally hates me. You should've seen the way he looked at me," she sighed. "God, he was such a fucking scumbag."

"Who?"

"My stupid fucking sociology professor. He started nagging about some bullshit and I called him out for it," she rolled her eyes before pulling out a box of cigarettes. "Want one?"

"No, thanks," you held your hand up. "Wait this is a no-smoking zone," you said as Faith lit the end.

"Shit, my bad," she shrugged before picking up her bag and walking off. "You're coming, aren't you? You're not just gonna tell me I can't smoke here and expect me to go off by myself," she held the cigarette between her two fingers.

"No, sorry, I'm coming," you stuttered.

"You better."

You followed your blue-eyed friend to a brick wall that was high enough that when you sat on it your feet couldn't touch the ground.

"So I guess we found our secret place," Faith smiled. "A sweet escape from the terrors of uni and their stupid, boring bullshit," she puffed.

You and Faith often found little areas that you claimed as your own. This was just another spot to add to your map of many discrete destinations.

"Woah, what the hell was that?" Faith looked as your stomach growled uncomfortably loud.

"All I had was an apple this morning and I'm starving," you sighed before cracking open your water bottle to take a sip.

"Well, that water isn't gonna do shit for ya. Let's go grab you something to eat," she hopped off the wall before putting her cigarette out on a rock.

"I can't...I forgot my wallet at home and my mom is already on her way here," you sighed before joining her on the ground.

"So what? I have money. Besides, it's not like she's gonna kill you for grabbing something to eat," Faith slung her bag over her shoulder. "I'm kinda hungry myself."

You’d be lying if you said you didn't have a slight gut feeling that your mom would be upset about this. But maybe Faith was right. There's no way your mom would get mad at you for eating...right?

After splitting a sandwich you headed to the front of the school to find your mom parked in a handicap spot. You waved to Faith as you walked over to the passenger side of the vehicle.

"So, how was your first day of college?" your mom asked as you buckled your seatbelt.

"It was good," you nodded as your mom pulled down the sun visor to reapply her Cherry Blossom Bliss tinted lipgloss. "How was your day?" you asked as you placed your bag on the floor between your legs as you looked out of the window.

"Good," she said plainly as she closed the car mirror and closed her gloss before tucking it away in her clutch bag.

You drove around a bit in silence before you heard the sound of her coin-filled bag swinging through the air. Hitting you in the mouth. Strangely enough, you heard the soft jingle before you actually felt the pain.

"Don't ever keep me waiting like that again. When I come here to pick you up you need to be ready," your mother said as you turned to her in shock, covering your mouth that was now decorated with a sliver of blood that seeped through the crack of your lower lip.

"But, I--" Your attempt to explain yourself was cut off by the stinging pain from your head as your mother dug her nails into your scalp.

"Are you talking back? Don't talk back to me you fucking brat," she spat. At this point, you knew that saying or doing anything else was just going to trigger her to spiral so you wiped the tear from your eye, attempted to fix your hair, and sat back in silence until you made it home.

It was moments like this that you wanted someone to vent to. But what good would that do? Even if you told Faith about this nothing would change. This was your life and the only smart thing you could do was learn from your mistakes.

Don't be late.

Don't talk back.

The next couple of weeks were like the first minus getting attacked for being late. You went to class, you did your homework, and you hung out with Faith. Today, your class had ended early since it was almost spring break and you took this as an opportunity to spend more time with Faith before your mom came to pick you up.

But today was a day to mark on your calendar as the beginning of your ending...

“Hey, Faith,” you said shyly as you noticed the two boys that sat with her. One of them being none other than Eunseok.

She waved to you tapping a spot beside her for you to sit. “Hey girl, we were just talking about going to one of the fraternity houses this weekend for a little get-together,” she smiled mischievously. "What d'you say? Wanna join us for some life-changing fun?"

You knew that look, and nothing good ever came from that. You’d been invited to gatherings like this before and always declined. You never regretted your decision either, especially when she’d tell you about all of the horrible things that happened. Faith never saw the stories how you did, they all sounded like exciting retellings of the glorious moments you missed out on.

"No that's alright," you chuckled as she glared at you with her big blue puppy dog eyes.

"Pleeeeeease," she whined, pouting her lips and squeezing your thigh.

"No, Faith," you giggled. "You're just gonna run off and leave me all by myself."

"I'll be there," Eunseok smirked. "In case she does abandon you," he sat on the opposite side of you placing his arm behind you.

"I-uhh," you stammered.

"Cool it big boy, she's not into that kind of stuff," Faith budded.

"Oh, sorry. I didn't know she was gay," Eunseok said, slightly backing away.

"Oh no. I'm not gay," you spat.

"Okay then, lesbian? Bisexual?"

"No, I'm straight. I just don't like boys," you were doing an awful job at pleading your case and you could see Faith holding in her laughter as she watched the awkward interaction between you two.

"How the hell are you straight, but you don't like boys? That makes no fucking sense."

"No. Wait. I like boys, but I'm not allowed to date."

"Who said anything about dating," he chuckled. "Are you already trying to claim me?"

"I never said that. I mean. Ugh, nevermind," you sighed.

"Relax, I'm just joking. Faith already told me about preserving your purity."

"Yep, I sure did. So you don't have to worry about him trying to lead you astray," Faith smiled.

"Eh hmm," the other boy cleared his throat.

"Oh, right. I forgot. This is Theo. I met him a year ago at a party and we've been friends ever since," Faith said as the boy waved.

"You got me over here feeling like an outcast," he smirked.

"Well, she barely knows that goofball, Eunseok. I think this was the first conversation they ever had." Their conversation faded in the background as you dug deep into your mind only to realize that this was your first time actually speaking to Eunseok.

You were much younger when you first met and you've always been one to keep to yourself. Plus, your sister had just left and life at home wasn't so great. So there wasn't much to talk about.

"So, you're coming right?"

"Huh?"

"The party this weekend...you're coming right?" Faith asked again.

"I don't think so. Sorry," you replied.

"Hmm...well I'm not gonna force you. Maybe next time," she said patting your shoulder. "Oh shit," she sighed as you noticed your mom walking over to you.

"I've been waiting in the car for over an hour now and you're out here goofing off with boys?"

"Mom, it's not like that I was just--"

"I don't wanna hear it. Go get in the car. Right now. We're going home," your mom looked everything but happy right now. She must've known you got out early and had been waiting for you all this time. Scared didn't begin to describe what you were feeling right now.

To your surprise, the entire ride was silent. Even when you made it home, pure silence. You went upstairs to take a shower before going to your room to study.

As you were going through your drawers to pick out an outfit, a head-spinning blow knocked you to the ground. Your mother's angry face hovered over you as she raised her hand to hit you again.

"You attention-seeking slut," she sneered. "You're just like your whoring sister," she hummed before grabbing your hair and dragging you to the middle of your room.

"I didn't do anything! I swear," you whined. "We were just talking!"

"First you'll have boys kissing and touching all over you. And the next thing you know, you'll be with a girl too. You'll be confused and broken. Just like your sister," your mother's eyes pierced through your soul like fiery daggers as she continued to berate you.

"I wish you had been born a boy like your brothers. I'd rather have a house full of men than one filled with whores in training," her words lingered in the air as she walked over to your bedroom door. "Sometimes, I wish your sister would've taken you with her."

Every word you thought of saying was caught in your throat. You were being choked by an overwhelming feeling of hopelessness and disparity. This was a common pattern whenever your mom would get violent.

Senseless slut shaming and misjudgment of your character coupled with the clawing sensation of her nails digging into your scalp was too much.

Dragging your hand across your face, you wiped the tears from your cheeks as you curled up into a ball on the floor. The sound of the ceiling fan clinking blended with the ticking of the clock that hung on your wall. You ended up falling asleep on the floor with your knees to your chest.

If not for the lamp on your desk, you'd be in complete darkness.

The next morning you woke up earlier than you normally would. This gave you a chance to shower before going to school.

The water ran down your body as you thought back to what happened last night. You turned your back to the pouring water but flinched as you were met with a stinging pain. You looked over your shoulder to see small scratches on your back--likely from being dragged across the carpet floor.

You searched under the bathroom cabinet for something to clean the wound with. Nothing but a bottle of toner stared back at you.

"Well there's alcohol in it," you mumbled to yourself as you poured the liquid on a cotton ball. You dabbed every spot within your reach before throwing your clothes on.

"You alright?" Eunseok asked. His voice caught you off guard as you drifted off into your thoughts. Faith had walked off for a smoke break with Theo, leaving you behind with the dark-eyed boy.

"Yeah," you smiled feignly.

His energy was different than it had been before. Maybe it was because he saw how your mom behaved when she saw you guys talking.

"You sure? Don't take this the wrong way, but you look like shit," he said tilting his head to meet your eyes.

"There's just a lot on my mind right now," you sighed.

"Wanna talk about it? I'm a pretty good listener."

"No, I'm okay. It's not like that'll do anything anyway," you sniffed. Crying was the one thing you'd never do in public. And you'd rather struggle on your own than bring other people into your personal business for no reason.

"Alright, fine. Well then how about we not talk about it together this weekend."

"I can't go to that party. My mom would kill me."

"Well, you look like you're halfway in the grave already. You could use a bit of excitement in your life."

"But I've never...I can't..."

"You're an adult. You can't let your mom dictate your life forever," you were quiet before he continued. "I'm sure you can just ask your dad, right?"

"Yeah, that would probably work if he was still around."

"Oh...sorry I didn't know."

"It's fine. He's not dead, but he might as well be. I'm sure my mom would be happier if he was."

"If you don't me asking...what happened anyway?"

"Well, basically he left us because my mom is literally insane. They would always fight. And one night he came into our bedroom and slid a note under our pillow," you thought back to the feeling of him placing a kiss on your forehead as you laid there pretending to be asleep. You watched as he wiped the tears from his face. To this day you regret not saying anything. Not doing anything.

"That was the last time you saw him?"

"Yeah..."

"You're going to that party," Eunseok whispered before placing his hand on top of yours.

"How?"

"I'll sneak you out on Saturday night," He said pulling out his phone. "What's your number?"

You looked down at your hands as you shamefully replied. "Even if I give you my phone number, my mom takes it at night time..."

"Damn. Well, I'll just give you my old phone. I barely use it now so I won't be looking for it," he said reaching into his bag. He pulled out the smaller black phone which was protected by a bulky plastic case. "It's a dinosaur, but it still works," he chuckled.

"Are you sure? What if I get caught?"

"Relax, you won't. You just have to keep it hidden until tomorrow night. After that, you're in the clear," he smiled.

"Okay, but if I get in trouble it's all you're fault and I'll probably never forgive you," you said as you took the phone from his hands.

Maybe a night out would do you good...

To be completely honest, it didn't take much convincing to get you on board. He was attractive as hell and as much as you hated it, he definitely had an effect on you.

"Deal," he chuckled as he watched you slip the phone into your bag.

"What are you losers yapping about?" Faith grinned as she skipped back over to you and Eunseok.

"Uh--"

"I was just helping our little friend plan her escape," Eunseok said, cutting you off as he pulled you in for a side hug. "Isn't that right?"

You nodded as Theo clapped his hands together. "Awesome! Another innocent soul to claim for Satan," he words sent chills up your spine as you thought back to what happened the night before.

"Hey? You alright?" Faith asked as your face went blank.

"Yeah...I was just umm...I was just thinking about some stuff," you replied, trying your best to play it off. "Shoot!" you spat.

"What?" Faith asked.

"My mom is on her way. I gotta go," You snatched your bag up and began walking off.

"Oh...but--"

"Sorry, I don't wanna get in trouble again," you continued as you drifted back into your thoughts.

"Hey," you felt a large hand palm your shoulder. You whipped around to see Eunseok standing in front of you. "If you ever need someone to talk to, remember that I'm here for you," you nodded as his hands slid down your arms to your hands.

A warm feeling rushed to your face as all of your previous worries melted away. It was like he was the first person to take your mind off of everything negative in your life. He was like a drug and you were afraid to get addicted.

You both stared at each other for a bit before he pulled you in for a hug. "I'll be over to break you out tomorrow night. Don't forget, okay?" His voice sounded even more soothing when he held you close. The gentle vibrations from his throat were just about as relaxing as soaking in a hot tub.

You hummed in response before walking off to join your mom in the car.

11:24pm tomorrow night...

You quietly tiptoed through the darkness of your bedroom to your dresser. You pulled out the bottom drawer to grab Eunseok's phone from its hidden place.

Feelings of guilt, fear, and anxiety tugged at your heart as you thought back to the moment between you and your mom in the car the day before.

"I'm really sorry for how I reacted the other day..." your mom bit her lip as she gripped the steering wheel. "It's just that I'm afraid to lose you the way I lost your sister..."

You could feel the genuine pain and regret in her tone as she poured out to you.

"I don't want you to make terrible mistakes that you'll regret in the future. And sometimes...exploding is the only way I know how to fix it. That's how my parents were with me."

This was no excuse for her actions, but this did make you feel a sense of pity for her. It was almost enough to make you cancel. But you needed this more than anything else right now.

You just wanted a small taste of what else life had to offer you...

Anything was better than spending all of your free time in this hellhole.

You powered the phone on to text Eunseok.

"She's sleep. You can come pick me up whenever." you sighed as you waited anxiously for him to text back.

"Alright, princess. Your knight in shining armor is on the way to rescue you from the evil dragon." Reading his text made you giggle a bit as you struggled to find anything remotely skimpy to wear. Nothing but an old baby blue dress from your sister hung idly in the back of your closet.

You quickly hopped into the dress and slipped into a pair of silver heels.

*Tap. Tap. Tap*

The tapping sound from the window nearly made you jump out of your skin. The moonlight dimly lit your features as you turned to see Eunseok's face behind the glass. You tapped your finger against your lips, signalling him to stop.

You opened the window and stuck out your first leg to climb out. Eunseok came close to guide you out by the waist. "You ready?" he smirked.

"Yeah," you nodded.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," he chuckled, grabbing your hand and running with you to his orange Dodge Challenger. You climbed into the passenger seat as Eunseok closed the door behind you.

Your heart was beating fast as hell, probably the fastest it's ever beat in your life. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you lied. Your throat was so dry it felt like you had cotton in your mouth.

"You might be able to lie to your mom, but you can't lie to me. You look like a scared little puppy," he smiled, scanning your body. "Nice dress."

"Thanks, it was my sister's."

"Well you look amazing in it," he turned the keys and you felt the seats rumble gently beneath you. You watched as Eunseok reached down to pull out a V-pen. He breathed in slowly before blowing out the sweet strawberry-scented vapor. "Here. Take this. It'll relax you," he said handing your the plug.

"Uhh...I'm okay. I don't smoke."

"Come on, just try it once. If you don't like it you can stop."

You hesitantly opened your mouth as he brought the device to your lips.

"Just suck it in slowly. Let it fill your lungs and don't try breathing out of your nose at the same time--" You began coughing aggressively, cutting him off mid-sentence. "Or that'll happen," he chuckled, before patting your back.

You looked at him through watery eyes as he reached to hand you a water bottle. "Don't worry, I didn't drink any of it yet."

"Thanks," you sniffed.

"So, what'd you think? D'you like it?"

"It tastes good, but to be honest I didn't notice much of a difference aside from coughing my brains out."

"Well, that one was kinda weak. Hold on. Imma give you something a little stronger," he smiled as he drove to a red light. "Look in the glove box and pull out that little red case," he directed you, pointing his finger at the glove box.

You sifted through the other miscellaneous objects before finding the red case. You placed it in his hand and watched as he pulled out another smoking device.

"Alright, I'm gonna go first and you just copy me okay?" he licked his lips before clasping them around the metal tip. "Just take a little bit first," he said after blowing out the cloud of smoke.

Remembering the mistake you made last time, you sucked in slowly.

"Woah, woah. That should be good enough," Eunseok chuckled as you inhaled the herby smoke.

You blew out the smoke, filling the car with the scent. You still coughed a bit, but it wasn't as bad as before. "That's weed, by the way," Eunseok smiled. "You should be feeling it in a bit."

He wasn't wrong either. You felt a sense of alertness wash over you.

"We're almost there," Eunseok said as he entered a subdivision before pulling up to a house shortly after. Cars were lined up the street, most likely belonging to the other partygoers. You could even hear the music blasting as you sat in the car with Eunseok.

This was the first time you finally noticed that Faith wasn't there. The amount of questionable decisions you were making in such a short time even shocked you.

You walked with Eunseok into to the lively house party hosted by Theo who greeted you at the door with Jell-O shots. "It's about time you got here, princess. We've been waiting for you," he smiled as he took down the cherry-flavored shot you rejected. "Did you get my message?"

"What message?" you asked.

"This one," he said, grabbing your hand to spin you around. "Wanna dance?"

"No, that's alright," you chuckled as he pouted playfully.

"Your loss. I'm a terrific dancer--"

"If by terrific you mean terrible then I'd definitely agree with you," Faith said cutting Theo off. "Hey girl, what do you think of the party? Are you enjoying yourself?"

"Well, we just got here a couple minutes ago."

"Yeah, and I was having a conversation with her until you came over here interrupting us," he poked her nose.

"Puh-lease. I'm sure she's glad I came over here to save her from your boring ass."

"Boring? Boring?! I'll show you whose boring."

"I'm already looking at you dummy," Faith playfully pushed Theo's shoulder. "If you really wanna dance then let's go," she giggled, leading Theo to a corner by the tip of his chin.

"Heh, later princess," he waved to you.

You watched as Theo grabbed Faith's hips. She swayed her hips, grinding her ass against him as he nuzzled into the crook of her neck. A seductive smirk crept across her face as Theo turned her around to face him. He caressed her thigh as he lifted her leg, wrapping it around him. He slowly leaned into her lips, hanging centimeters away from her soft pink lips before she placed her finger on his lips.

"I thought we were just dancing," she beamed.

"Dancing and kissing?" he chuckled awkwardly.

"Uh uh. Man, these shots have you acting extra horny today huh?"

You shook your head, scanning the room for Eunseok. You couldn't believe you were staring at them for that long. You didn't see him anywhere in the kitchen so you went out into the hall to look for him somewhere else.

To be honest, if Faith wasn’t busy teasing Theo, you'd probably be hanging out with her right now. But, Eunseok wasn’t so bad. You actually enjoyed his company. 

Still feeling a bit fuzzy and lightheaded from the hit earlier you swayed through the partygoers, silently searching for a familiar face. You were more of a shy person, so engaging with random strangers wasn’t exactly at the top of your list. 

“Hey, ~” a dark-haired girl waved to you as she was being dragged off to a bedroom down the hall. “Wanna come have fun with us?” 

“No, that’s alright,” you smiled sheepishly. 

“Oh come on, baby. I’ll make it worth your while,” the boy said, releasing the other girl’s hand to run his nose against the skin on your neck. 

“I said, no,” you spat, pushing him away after he licked the exposed skin on your chest.

“Oh, you wanna play hard to get, huh?” He smirked devilishly as he pressed you against the wall. 

You struggled beneath his weight as you looked down to see that the girl had passed out on the floor. Knowing that this was going nowhere good, you swung your free hand to hit him straight in the mouth. 

“Argh!” He winced, licking the blood from the broken skin on his lower lip. “You little bitch! You’re gonna regret doing that,” he spat, grabbing your wrist, and twisting it slightly. You groaned at the burning pain travelling down your arm before kicking him between his legs which made him drop to the floor. 

While he was on his knees swearing and shouting out all of the horrible things he was gonna do to you, you shook the collapsed girl to try and wake her up. There was no way in hell you were gonna leave her in the hands of this monster. 

“Are we gonna play now?” She hummed. “Hmm, I’m sleepy. Can I stay here?” 

“No, come on. I gotta get you out of here,” you tugged at her arms. “No girl left behind.”

The boy must’ve been feeling better by the time you finally got her to stand as you felt a set of hands push you to the ground. He grabbed you by the ankles and started to drag you down the hall. 

Even though you kicked your legs in an attempt to fight him off, it was useless, he was much stronger than you and you didn’t stand a chance against him now. 

Dazed, but conscious enough to see what was going on, the dark-haired girl ran off. 

“Dammit,” you thought to yourself. Closing your eyes shut, you prepared yourself to just accept your fate. A set of footsteps ran up the hall toward you as you felt the boy drop your legs to the ground. 

“Ugh!” He groaned as you opened your eyes to see a beer bottle had been smashed against his head. 

You watched as Eunseok punched the boy in the face until blood came from his nose. His hair bounced at the force of every blow. You could tell he had broken his nose by the way his face had contorted. 

“Let’s go,” Eunseok said, looking at you still on the ground. He grabbed the boy by the shirt and proceeded to drag him to the front door. “Does your brother know you’re here?” He spat looking to the dark-haired girl who you assumed ran to get Eunseok. 

“I’m almost 18. I can make my own decisions,” she stuttered. 

“Right, and we see where that almost got you. Come on, I’m taking you home,” Eunseok said as he walked up to a dark-skinned guy. “Lance! Can you keep an eye on this fucker? The cops are already on their way for him.” Eunseok said as he abandoned the lunatic who tried to assault you and the other girl. “He was trying to make a move on Eunchae.”

“Sure, man. I’ll hold him until the cops get here,” the boy whom Eunseok called Lance smiled as Eunseok walked outside with you and the other girl. “Tell your brother I said hi,” he chuckled as you walked outside. 

“Get your ass in the backseat,” Eunseok spat as Eunchae folded her arms. “And put this on,” He said as he pulled off his oversized varsity jacket and draped it over her shoulders. 

“Wait! I forgot my phone,” Eunchae exclaimed as the car started up. 

“Too bad, I’ll have Theo hold onto it for you. We’re leaving,” Eunchae sat quietly in the backseat as you drove almost 30 minutes to a black and white apartment complex. 

Acting like a spoiled child, Eunchae refused to go up the stairs. You could see that Eunseok was more than fed up with her bullshit as he threw her over his shoulder and walked up the stairs to knock on the door. 

Eunseok, placed Eunchae on the doormat in front of him as he waited for the door to open.

“You’re not doing a very good job at babysitting her, Seunghan. Maybe you should send her back by your mom and dad,” he said as he poked her cheek. 

“Yeah, I might do that because she’s obviously not ready to be an adult yet—“

“No! Ugh! You never let me do anything,” she huffed as she stormed to her room.

“Thanks for bringing her back, bro. I thought she wasn’t feeling well because she went to bed early.”

“Eh, it’s alright. But you seriously need to keep an eye on her. Oh, and Theo has her phone. He’ll probably bring it over later.”

“Okay, it’s not like she needs it anyway,” Seunghan chuckled as he closed the door.

You followed Eunseok back to the car as he started it up again. 

“Sorry,” he said after taking a hit of the weed from earlier. “I’m pretty sure this wasn’t exactly the fairytale ending you were expecting,” he sighed.

"Well, it's definitely been interesting," you scoffed lightheartedly.

"Did you want to go back to the party or to my place? It's quieter there."

"Umm, wherever you want to go is fine with me."

You were hoping that he'd choose his place. Mainly because the party felt more like a freak show, a disaster waiting to happen.

"M'kay. My place it is," he said before pulling off.

He didn't live far from Seunghan so the drive was relatively short. You followed him up the stairs before entering his apartment which was uncomfortably cold.

You wrapped your arms around yourself in an attempt to contain some of the heat that was rapidly escaping your body.

"I would've offered you my jacket, but I already gave it to Eunchae," Eunseok said as he turned off the air.

"It's alright," you said sucking in your breath.

"C'mere," Eunseok whispered softly as he pulled you into his grasp.

Your cheeks burned hot as you felt the warmth from his body coupled with the feeling of his breath on your neck.

After a short silent moment, he turned your body to face him. He was met with a warm and submissive look on your face. A sense of innocence wrapped up by desire.

He leaned in to kiss your lips. Little did he know that this was your first kiss.

You freely allowed him to take the lead biting and sucking on your lips as he pulled your body closer to his. You quickly pulled away as you felt his bulge brush up against your core.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied as you eyes fell to the ground.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t—“

“No, I want to. It’s just that…”

“It’s just what?”

“I haven’t really done anything like this before.”

“Kissing or sex?”

“Both…”

“Oh…sorry, I didn’t know. I kinda just assumed you had done something.”

“There’s a lot that I haven’t done.”

“Well we can stop now if you want.”

“No, I want to keep going. Just take it slow with me.”

Eunseok led you to his room that was fairly empty. Nothing but a king-sized bed, a small night stand, and a laundry bin occupied the floor space.

You stood at the foot of his bed as he began kissing you again. Though this was your first kiss, you never expected it to feel so good. Again, you felt his hardness press against you, but this time you welcomed the sensation.

You felt his hands blindly move across your back stopping at the zipper before pulling it down. He pulled out of the kiss to slide your dress down before directing you to stand up and sit on his lap.

You couldn’t deny the fact that you felt a bit shy about being naked in front of someone.

He slid your panties down before he wrapped an arm around you. He reached his finger down to glide between your lips. The amount of wetness definitely wasn’t ready for his cock just yet, so he spit on his fingers before massaging your clit.

You jerked your body as he used his fingers on you. Gripping onto his arms, you threw your head back as he inserted one finger into your pussy. Your tightness gripped around his finger as you let out a soft moan.

He slowly pulled his finger back and forth grazing the flesh of your g-spot before picking up the pace.

You watched as he pulled his finger out completely covered in your wetness.

“Okay, what do you want to do first? We can go straight into sex or I can eat you out?”

“I wanna go straight into sex,” you replied as you stood up.

“M’kay. Let me go grab something first,” he said before leaving the room. You waited on his bed, playing with the wetness between your legs.

He came back shortly after and pulled down his pants to reveal his pulsing hard-on.

“I’m gonna put this on to make it easier for you,” he said as torn open the packaging that contained a dark blue condom. You watch as he slid it down his length before climbing onto the bed. “You’re gonna get on top okay,” he continued as you hesitantly straddled him.

You leaned forward to place your hands on his chest as he guided his cock to your opening. Slowly, he pulled you hips down gliding his lubricated dick deep inside of you. You whined as he broke through your hymen. A slight burning feeling filled your core.

“Mmm, fuck,” he groaned as he thrusted into your pussy. More swears left his lips before he came inside of the condom. You felt his warm seed fill you up as he laid there breathless.

“I didn’t expect you to be so fucking tight,” he groaned. “Alright, now you gotta suck the cum off so I can fuck you raw. That was my last rubber,” he sighed, fluffing his hair between his fingers.

He pulled the condom off before you went down to wrap your lips around him, sucking off the cum before gagging slightly on his length.

Once clean he bent you over on your hands and knees and plowed into your pussy as you came closer to your climax. He pulled out his cock to insert two of his digits into your gummy hole as you reached between your legs to rub your clit.

Breathless, moaning, and panting you came all over his fingers screaming out his name. He held you down and pushed in his cock to feel you pussy clench around him as you slowly came down from your high.

You collapsed on the bed from exhaustion and satisfaction as Eunseok stroked his length.

“Fuck, that was amazing,” he sighed as he kissed your shoulder. “Don’t worry, I’ll get you home before sunrise. Just get some rest for now,” he said as he saw your legs trembling from the orgasm.

This definitely wasn’t the night you were expecting, but you couldn’t say that you didn’t enjoy it.

You watched as Eunseok pulled his jeans up before stepping out on the balcony to smoke. Your eyes fluttered gently as you watched the puffs of smoke escape his lips. He ruffled his hair again before coming inside to join you in bed.

He guided your head to rest on his chest. The gentle hums relaxed you till you eventually fell asleep.

You don’t know what time you got in the car or what time he drove you home, but he made sure to bring you back before the sun came out.

Even though this had just happened the day before, you already couldn’t wait for your next opportunity to sneak out.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @addictedtohobi @chaenqen @nikisvanillaccola @mrswolfhard3 @hynjinnn1 @melobin @laylasbunbunny @urfavberry @swaggyjinnie @j4yluv @mimikittysblog @wonbinisbabygurl

[iouinotes]

All for you | Carl Gallagher

pairing: Carl Gallagher x female!reader

show: Shameless

warnings: angst, fluff, smut (the reader and Carl are 18 years old in this ff)

summary: Carl is challenged that he can get your money, if he makes you fall in love with him. He loves the challenge until he loves something else more...

authors note: sorry for so many pov switched, I didnt notice it, when I first wrote this ff. Also I haven't had the chance to watch all the seasons yet, but I still hope that Carl's character is somewhat accurate :))

Carl's pov

"Frank, goddamit youre no help! Why are you even lying around here - oh forget it, I don't want to hear it." Fiona's voice echoes in the room, while the entire Gallagher household is present.

The everyday discussion has been going on for too many minutes in which I could have done something better. The damn question “How do we get enough money?”

Lip at college, Ian with his gangster boyfriend, my shitty sister with her kid and then Liam. This family is screwed. No wonder with a father like Frank.

As the argument continues to escalate, I have the misfortune of sitting right next to him.

"You care to share some money, son?" Of course, my attempts to ignore him are unsuccessful.

"The drug trade doesn't always work out so well, but the weapon thing was something. You could give one to your good old dad, you know what the neighborhood is like." I run my hands through my hair in frustration, shaking my head.

"Just get one or two girls pregnant at school, then all of our problems are solved. But she has to be rich. After all, you want to get your hard work paid." Why the hell am I still here?

"You used to be more enthusiastic about my ideas. If you don't want to do play daddy, then use your charm. When I was your age, my cock was enough and the girls were happy."

"Be fucking quiet, no one wants to hear about your pathetic youth." It's no use, he keeps talking.

"I'm only saying, If you make a rich girl fall in love with you, then you can get money to do something nice for your family."

As I get up and walk away from him I take a breath, the tension caused by this idiot sucks.

Still, his words got me thinking. Maybe there's a new girl who would be perfect for this job...

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

When I moved here, I wasn't sure what to expect. New school, maybe mean classmates and bad cafeteria food. That I might be able to join a group and make friends, people who laugh with me in class or go to the cinema together on weekends.

I was prepared to get lost in the hallways a few times, perhaps to be peppered with embarrassing questions by the teachers. I had even prepared myself for being called a nerd again and therefore spending my lunch breaks alone.

Then things turned out differently. I met two girls who, although they scared me at first with their need to gossip all the time, are good people at heart.

They studied with me (meaning they told me the newest gossip and braided my hair while I did our homework), showed me the city and its pitfalls. I felt comfortable, prepared and confident for what awaited me here.

Oh lord, was I wrong.

On a Thursday in the middle of the week I met a boy who messed everything up. Literally.

I met him when he was running through the halls twenty minutes late, but stupidly didn't pay attention to me, who was about to cross his path. Let's put it this way, it ended with my books on the floor, my jacket hanging off my shoulder, and his hair being a huge mess.

When he looked at me, I expected to hear something like "sorry" or "I'll help you."

You want to know what he said?

"Cute top. Let me know if you need help taking it off."

Then he got up casually and walked into the classroom across the hallway, a grin on his face as if he had won the Bachelor title.

After this encounter two things became very clear to me. 1. Look both ways when crossing the halls and 2. Stop daydreaming about this boy, even if he has beautiful blue eyes.

The first thing worked better than the second.

After a few descriptions, which actually only consisted of "incredibly impudent and incredibly good-looking", it was explained to me who I was dealing with.

Carl Gallagher. A boy who has lived here since he was born, someone who is rumoured to be more dangerous than the Italian Mafia.

Even though I thought that was exaggerated, I quickly realized that I should stay away from him and that he meant trouble.

Aside from the fact that I wasn't going to be in the situation of talking to him again anyway, my eyes couldn't stop themselves from looking at him.

There was something that defined him, something that made me want to watch a grin creep across his face when he made an inappropriate joke, how he would push his blonde hair back and his eyes would shine mischievously, as if he had already planned the next bank robbery.

I wasn't the only one who found his charisma attractive tho, of course not when he looked like one of God's angels, but he never really seemed interested in other girls. At least not with any serious intent, you might hear him flirting or making comments about his free bed, but you would never saw him in a relationship.

He never held hands or kissed anyone, had a real smile on his face or said sweet things, he was just Carl.

Suggestive, hot-tempered and like a flag that proclaimed: Stay away from me, because you will lose this fight.

I also felt that if I continued to watch him, I would lose the battle for platonic feelings towards him too.

"Please don't tell me you're looking at our school bad boy again. You better be careful, he might want to sell you a gun." Kenzie's voice makes me sigh.

"These are just rumors. Besides, it's not my fault, he's just -" Her hand on my shoulder interrupts me.

"We know, you have heart eyes every time you talk about him. There are so many great guys in this world, I'm not saying at this school, but you choose this one?" Her look says more than a thousand words as she looks over at Carl, who is pushing his way trough the crowd.

"I'm not in love, just curious. Those are two different things, okay?" Her eyebrows raise.

"You mean, curious how his lips would feel on yours?" Her laughter at my expression is lost in the sounds of the cafeteria.

"Very funny." I murmur to her, food forgotten on my plate. When the school bell rings, I stand up and pick up my backpack.

"My class is canceled now, but I'm going to the library. Will you meet me later?" As I walk backwards I see her thumbs up and the hearts she makes in Carl's direction. My reaction is two quick middle fingers.

As I walk out of the school building, I check my phone and tie my hair into a braid. The library is a few blocks away and the cool air makes me shiver.

When I get there and wave to the boy at the entrance, I turn to my favorite department. Call it cliche, but I love romance books. I mean, I don't know what it feels like to love someone with all my heart, but that doesn't mean I don't love reading about it.

The books I actually need are a few rows away. History, literature, everything I am assigned to get for school.

As I stroke over a few tapes and finally pull out a book to read the first few pages, I hear a noise next to me that makes me look up. After all, the library is usually a pretty quiet place.

As I look into the familiar blue eyes, I feel my cheeks turn red.

I have to stop myself from staring.

"Always a book in your hand, I see." Oh his voice hasn't changed. I try to shrug casually as I answer, but I'm not sure if it actually works.

"Aren't you going to be late for class again?" At my sarcasm he smiles, he takes a step in my direction which weakens my control over my voice.

"I thought I would learn something somewhere else too." These coded words make me swallow.

"So, you're here often?" I almost think he's not answering me, but maybe I'm just not concentrating, because I'm paying too much attention to every mole on his face.

"Actually, I didn't even know this shitty town had a library." His words make me laugh, but several requests to be quiet around us, make me whisper in response.

"Then why are you here?" I think my breathing stops as his hand brushes my fingers that are still holding the book.

"You're here." I feel my heart beating nervously faster, I probably look pretty confused and when I notice his grin, something flutters in my chest.

"No interest in books, huh?" Can my answer actually be any lamer?

"Dont worry, I have a newfound interest in you."

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

If someone had told me a few weeks ago that I would become friends with Carl Gallagher, I would have found the idea absolutely crazy. To be honest, I still find the situation insane, but damn my cheeks still turn just as red when he's with me as they did the first time.

It turns out that he really has no interest in books, even though he visited me at the library almost every day since we met in the romance department.

I've never met anyone like him, funny and couragous without any reserve, always looking for trouble, acting self-confident. But also sweet.

He's like a current that pulls you along, like a wind that blows so hard that you fly with it. He feels like freedom and it is wonderful.

He makes me laugh, he carries my books, plays with my hair, walks home with me. In such a short time I feel like he didn't knock on the doors to my heart, instead he made a home there.

Maybe this is what it feels like to fall in love.

It's not a gentle announcement, more of a realization that makes you incredibly desperate and happy at the same time.

But with him I actually just feel happy.

"Ready, sunshine?" As soon as I come out of the classroom, he comes towards me and takes my bag from me. My heart jumps at his gesture, which feels like winning the Olympics.

"You're crazy, where do you even want to go?" He has something planned but won't tell me. When he puts his arm around my shoulder and I lean against him, I get a few sideways glances from our classmates.

Carl ignores everyone like always, it's crazy but the way he's so confident is pretty attractive to me.

"Does the guy in your cheesy books also tell you where they go on dates? I bet not, so just wait."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

"It feels like you're kidnapping me."

I feel his smile on my back and have to giggle quietly at his response.

"Mh, I plan to do that. But only for a few hours, otherwise my head will roll tomorrow. Your father takes your curfew pretty seriously."

I feel his hands on my hips, guiding me forward, hear the birds chirping around us, but can't figure out where we're going.

"Just a few more steps, baby. Then you'll see." As he promised, it is only a few meters away and when I see a small, calm lake, my mouth falls open in surprise.

"Carl, oh my God! It's wonderful here, thank you so much." I turn around in his grip and look at him, his smile reflects the love that I feel.

"Yeah? How much do you like it?" As his eyes focus on my lips, I feel a tingling feeling in my stomach. Slowly, my fingers stroke his chest and I see him swallow, even though he tries to hide it.

"I think it's incredibly beautiful here, I love it. And...I really like you." I shyly lower my gaze, my words are met with an unknown silence that makes me anxious after a few seconds. But when I look up at him again, he pushes a strand of my hair out of my face.

"To me, you are much more beautiful than this sight. I like you too and I thought that was pretty obvious." I smile broadly, butterflies fly around in my stomach and as the sun illuminates his face, I feel incredibly happy.

"You're so nice to me, I don't know how I deserve this." An expression crosses his face, but when I blink he smiles at me again.

"After all, you are the first person who explained the topics for the history exam to me, without giving up." My hand cups his cheek.

"I wouldn't give you up, you've become too important to me." As I stand on my tiptoes, our lips brush, his hand is on my back and pushes me closer to him.

"You are an angel." With his words we kiss and everything else around us blurs, only he remains. Everything is unimportant except him, standing in front of me, so handsome, that it is difficult not to look at him.

"Come on, let's go for a swim." As he pulls me towards the lake, you can hear our loud laughter in the air.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"When are you going to collect the money? You've been with her for the last three months and nothing has come of it." Frank's annoying voice frustrates me more than anything else.

"I am working on it. Besides, she's actually really caring." When I see the dismissive hand gesture in my direction, I roll my eyes.

"You are completely wrong, son. A person is there for a certain period of time, but money? Money accompanies you throughout your life, especially if you buy beautiful bottles of the best alcohol."

I sink into the sofa, but want to turn away when I feel his hand on my shoulder.

"If you put it off any longer, it will be harder to get out of the situation. Girls your age will start planning to get married, if you stay with them for months."

But when he leaves, I feel conflicted. Can I really do this to her?

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Carl's pov

"Happy birthday!" Her voice makes me jump and, confused, I turn around on the bench to look into her excited eyes.

"Why are you jumping around like that? Are you practicing for cheerleading?" I'm making fun of her, but the smile on her face doesn't fade.

"No, idiot. I'm just really curious to see how you react to your gift." My breath catches for a moment as I take in her words.

"You got me something?" When she leans forward and gives me a kiss on the cheek while pressing the bag into my lap, I start to smile too.

"Open!" Her encouragement breaks me out of my trance and I quickly tear up the paper, looking at the tickets with wide eyes.

"But...these tickets cost a fortune? Did you sell your liver or something?" When I look at her, she smiles back at me.

"I talked to my dad and he agreed that you deserve something special for your birthday. Are you happy?" As I look at the cards, I suddenly feel a pang in my heart. It must be showing on my face, because her happiness is also fading away.

"Do you not like it? I thought it was your favorite team? I can get you something else." When I look at her, I quickly pull her between my legs and kiss her.

"Shh, breathe angel. It's perfect, thank you. And well, your father. It's just a lot of money." Her hands play with the fabric of my shirt.

"You always say that. Do you have problems at home, with money, I mean? I've never been to your place, I don't even know where you live." What should I say to her now?

"It's okay." Her raised eyebrows look at me reproachfully, making me sigh.

"Each of us has to contribute a certain amount of money every month and if I don't sell fucking drugs, it will be tight." Her astonished look makes me pause and I gently stroke her arms.

Before I can say anything else, she kisses me. I look at her in surprise.

"What's that for?" She smiles shyly, looks at the floor for a moment before looking at me again.

"You're just so honest, I admire that. And that you've never asked me for anything, you know. That I lend you some money."

Fuck. Shit. What do I say?

"Yeah, I mean, I don't want to burden you with that-" but she interrupts me again, her concentrated expression makes me curious.

"What's going on in your pretty head?" My hands wander over her sides.

"It's the end of the month, how much are you missing?" I frown in confusion, but when she doesn't let it go, I tell her the amount.

"$240, the rest I earned by helping in the neighborhood." But despite the high sum, she just nods, looks at me again and gives me another kiss.

"Okay, maybe I'll be your sugar mommy." I have to laugh at the absurdity, but the longer she grins at me, the more I think she means it.

"What, are you serious? Thats fucking crazy, how am I supposed to pay you back?" Her eyes look around, but since the classroom is relatively empty during recess, she finds herself between my legs again. She slowly lets her hand wander down my stomach until she squeezes my cock through my clothes and I close my eyes in delight.

"Hmm, maybe you could help me relax between classes." Her eyes sparkle mischievously and I look at her with a grin.

"Anything you want, sugar."

Let's put it this way, the next few weeks the breaks were filled with kissing in the back corner of the classroom, dry humping on the toilet or Carl doing his best to pleasure me with his tongue in the caretaker's room, like now.

"Ahh-, Carl. I'll cum if you keep that up." His head has disappeared under my skirt, his fingers are stroking the bare skin of my thigh and the sinful movements of his tongue are making me see stars.

As he adds a finger and runs it over my folds, slowly until he inserts it, he looks at me again.

"You coming for me? Yeah, be a good girl or do you want to get caught by the old janitor grandpa spreading your legs for me?" As my eyes roll back, he pumps another finger into me, scissoring it thoroughly and hitting that sweet spot inside me.

When I moan loudly, he grins.

"You like that? Just wait until I bury my cock in you and you cant walk straight afterwards, so that everyone will notice." When his finger presses my clitoris, I see white and as I come I try to muffle the sounds with my hand over my mouth.

When I get off my high, I blindly search for my panties. But Carl beats me first.

"Hmm, no. I think I'll keep it as a little souvenir. Maybe you can get it back when you come to my house later." I don't know what surprises me more: that he wants me to run around exposed at school or that I'm invited to his house for the first time.

"Really? I'd like to come." But he interprets my words differently, his fingers stroke my entrance again and I moan and squeeze my eyes shut.

"Don't worry, I'll take care of it. Very well and for a very long time." When the bell rings, he lets go of me and I whimper slightly.

"Carl-" but he interrupts me by pulling back and straightening my skirt.

"I'm sure our agreement was between recess, now it's class time. Come on, I'll make it up to you later."

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

As we ride the bus toward his home, I take his hand and intertwine our fingers.

"But don't expect a mansion or any of that shit." Ever since we left school, he has been bad-mouthing his hometown every free minute he has.

"Don't worry, I'll only have eyes for you anyway." The statement makes him laugh and he relaxes a little. As we get out and walk a little way along the street, we are watched by a few people.

"Why are so many people staring at us?" When he look at me, I'm obviously confused.

"Not everyone here wears designer clothes that cost several thousand dollars. If you come here more often, they'll call you a princess." Giggling, I slap him on the arm and as we climb the stairs to his house, I look around curiously.

"So this is where you grew up." His shoulders shrug casually, but I see him trying to gauge my reaction.

"Yeah, where in the world could it be nicer?" I laugh at his sarcastic comment and we both smile at each other as we enter the house.

I hear him calling into the house, then a girl with red hair appears, carrying a baby.

"You must be Debbie, the little one is so adorable." When I hold out my hand, she just looks at Carl with her eyebrows still raised.

"What did you do to end up with her? Also my daughter's name is Franny and yes, I know condoms exist." Surprised, I don't know exactly how to answer, so I leave it to Carl.

"My tongue is magic, Debs. Too bad you won't find out yourself anytime soon, Derek has moved away. By the way, Franny seems hungry." I'm unsure of the dynamic between the two of them, as she turns away and walks away, I resist the urge to say goodbye.

"That was...nice." His hand pulling me towards the stairs distracts me.

"She's a real ray of sunshine, come on. The others aren't back yet, so you can be as loud as you want this time."

When we get upstairs, he leads me into his room and I look at the magazines, posters and little things scattered everywhere.

"Cleaning and you are definitely not friends, huh?" I laugh at my joke, but Carl has other plans than letting me inspect his room.

He puts his hands on my hips and pushes me against the closed door, my breath catches as his eyes find mine.

"Do you want to keep playing housemaid? Then put on a damn maid costume, otherwise keep your eyes on me." At his stern voice, I press my thighs together and, grinning, I drag my fingers across his chest once again.

"Would you like that? Me on the floor, my ass in the air, and no underwear? Oh wait, what a coincidence that I'm not wearing any now either." His eyebrows raise, I see his eyes darken with lust.

"Let's save this little fantasy for another time, right now I just want to see you on my cock." Smiling, I lean towards him and start kissing him. I loosen the belt I bought him and pull him closer to me by his waistband.

"I think I did well today. After all, I didn't complain about getting through the school day without underwear. Do I get my reward now?" Grinning, he takes off my top and looks at my lace bra.

"Everything you want." He drops to his knees in front of me and kisses his way along my thighs, lifts my skirt and presses a kiss to my folds. Slowly he moves his tongue higher and kisses my stomach, I lean my head against the door.

"Does that feel good?" I just nod, burying my hand in his hair as he puts his mouth on me again.

"Ahh- Carl, I want you now." His fingers stretch me, the wetness running down my legs, making me tremble.

"You got me, sweetheart. What do you want me to do?" His head lifts to look at me and I place my fingers around his chin, seeing the moisture on his lips.

"I've been prepared enough, I want your dick now. Let's see if it's as magical as your tongue." Grinning, he stands up and lifts me up, lays me on my back on his bed and lies down between my legs.

He places a few kisses on my legs, then stretches up on his elbows so he's hovering over me. Then he kisses my cheek and my lips, lets his tongue slide over them and lets me taste myself.

I run my fingers through his blonde hair and pull his body closer to me. When he pulls a condom out of his pocket, I hold my breath.

"You still want to do this?" His look calms all the worries I had. I nod, stroking my fingers over his heated cheek.

"I trust you." His next kiss is passionate, his hands gliding over my body, caressing every bit of exposed skin. I lift my back off the mattress and let him take off my bra. His head lowers to run his tongue over my navel. As he sucks on them, I moan softly.

One of his hands starts kneading my breasts and when I try to take off my skirt, he stops me.

"Leave it on, okay?" I kiss him in response.

His hand strokes my sides and my own hands rest on his shoulders as he presses the tip of his cock against my entrance.

"Ready, baby?" When I agree, he presses himself into me and for a moment I have to squint my eyes because it hurts.

Then I feel several gentle kisses on my cheek, my forehead and my lips. His attempts to distract me work and as I become more and more relaxed, he slides further into me.

Slowly he presses his hips against me, the stretch so great that I can feel him all the way into my stomach. He waits for a moment, whispering sweet things in my ears until they get dirty and I beg him to move.

My hands wrap around his shoulders as he thrusts into me for the first time, the air around us thickening as he grunts and a moan escapes me.

"You're doing so well, God, you feel so good." His hips move faster and faster, the pleasure spreads through my body and the wetter I feel, the easier he slides in and out of me.

"You are perfect, my perfect girl. Do you feel good?" His hands stroke my skin, gently pinching my nipples, playing with them and making me squirm beneath him.

As he grips my hips and pushes himself harder into me, my head starts to spin. My noises get louder.

"Carl- god, please go harder" And so he does, the room is filled with the sounds of our bodies and sweat forms on us.

"Baby, do you want to ride me? You have such pretty thighs." I nod and when he pulls out of me I can't think clearly, I just want him to fill me up again.

He leans back and as I stabilize myself on his shoulders, I sink back onto him. The feeling is even better that my eyes roll back. His hands grasp my hips, helping me move.

"That's right, baby. You're doing so good, riding my cock like the good girl you are." At his words, I tighten my grip on him and he curses as I move harder on top of him.

The faster I go, the more exhausting it becomes, but as I feel a knot forming in my stomach, I ride him so fast just to chase my pleasure.

Then suddenly as he hits my spot inside me over and over again, I go boneless on him and melt in his arms. My come drips all over him and as he continues to fuck me, reaching his own climax, I tremble in his grip.

"Just a few more thrusts, baby. Ah, keep holding on to me." Even though I have lost my strength, I move on him a few more times until he comes and I lay my head on his shoulder.

We're both breathing heavily, but everything feels so good, so warm and comfortable, that I don't want to move a single muscle anymore.

He carefully pulls out of me, I moan slightly at the loss. He gently lays me back on his pillow and gives me a kiss before throwing the condom away.

He pulls the blanket over us and puts his arm around me to pull me closer. I snuggle up to him and feel so safe that I quickly press my lips to his skin.

"That was wonderful." He also presses a kiss on my hair.

"That was incredible, you are the best. I can't wait to do it again." Our embrace becomes tighter. For a moment the room is silent.

When I whisper his name, he hums in response.

"I know it's cliche to say something like that after the first time. But I just feel it so much that it hurts to keep it to myself. I love you." As I lie on his chest I hear his heart stop for a moment and then it starts beating much faster.

"I- no one has ever said that to me before." When I raise my head and look at him, he doesn't look at me. Instead, his eyes are fouced on the ceiling.

"I just want you to know. I don't want to put any pressure on you to say it. I just thought you should hear it. You know, now that things are serious between us." Again he is silent and I start to worry, but then he looks at me.

"You are truly the most incredible person I have ever met. I consider myself very lucky." He smiles at me, then leans down and we kiss for a moment. It feels like heaven.

We lay there for a few minutes, just cuddling and telling each other how our day was. We laugh and as the sun slowly sets, I start to get dressed.

"I wish I could stay here with you. But you know what my parents are like." He leans back on his elbow, watching me get dressed and contact my parents to pick me up.

"Hmm, I think we would do it again. If you stayed here tonight, I mean." I smile at him, sit down on his bed for a moment and ruffle his hair.

"I wouldn't mind, darling." The nickname makes him blush and when he leans forward to kiss me, I playfully push him away.

"I have to go, are you coming down with me?" He nods, feigning annoyance, and as we walk out of his room, he puts his arm around my waist and pulls me towards him.

He steals his kiss there, but more than that he steals my heart.

We smile at each other and for this moment everything is just perfect. We go downstairs and just as we are back in the living room we hear a door open loudly.

A visibly drunk man stumbles in. I see Carl tense up next to me, staring at the stranger angrily. I quietly lean towards him to whisper my question.

"Who is that?" When he rolls his eyes, I get a bad feeling.

"That's my father, great isn't it?" The man in front of me is dirty, has unkempt hair and an unpleasant smile on his face.

"Should I ask my parents if you can stay overnight?" My gaze is more focused on the man than on Carl.

But he just shakes his head, and just as he is about to answer, the man sees us too.

"Oh, my son! It's so good to see you, not really, but I'll take your bed. Fiona has mine. Is that your little girlfriend? She looks expensive, very good catch. How much money did you rip her off? I hope it's worth it to go through all this drama." I frown in confusion, but when Carl freezes next to me, I become uncertain.

"What does he mean by that?" This time my gaze is directed solely at Carl.

"Nothing, he's drunk-" but before he can finish, the man does.

"How rude of me, I am Frank. The proud father of this child, at least one of my descendants has made something of himself and used his talent. He has my good genes, the good looks and I teach him the tricks. Like exploiting an innocent, very very rich girl for money. It doesn't bother you, I hope? You seem to have enough, but I hope my son returns the favor to you."

The words catch me so off guard that I can't move. I don't believe anything this man says until I see the guilty look on Carl's face.

"W-what? That's a lie, right? Tell me he's lying, Carl." As he runs his hands through his hair and tries to answer me, Frank speaks again.

"Oh, you haven't confessed to her yet? My fault, I should have waited. I didn't think you would humiliate this girl for so long. I told you this wouldn't end well." But Carl ignores him completely when he notices me moving away from him.

"Wait, I'm sorry. It wasn't like that-" But I interrupt him, already feeling tears gathering in my eyes.

"So what happened? You act like you don't want any money from me and-" Carl's look becomes frustrated.

"You offered me your money! You said if I matched it, everything would be fine for you." I'm almost speechless, is this all a nightmare?

"Are you serious? I offered it to you because you weren't asking for it. And now I find out it was your plan from the beginning? You just talked to me, just spent time with me to get my money? Who does that?" Frank's voice intervenes.

"I invented the strategy, my dear. It's turning out to be quite useful." But I don't pay attention to him, I just look at Carl.

"Please, I'm sorry. Yes, it was meant that way in the beginning, but it's different now. I-" My tears flow when he admits it and any feeling of happiness disappears. All that remains is betrayal and sadness.

"You what? What am I saying, you were probably happy that I only wanted you in return. I'm such an idiot. You didn't just take my money, you took my first time too!" As he comes towards me, I step back.

"Listen to me, I didnt force you to do all this for me. You wanted it." The more he talks the more desperate I feel and the greater my anger becomes.

"You idiot! I thought you liked me! I thought you finally noticed me too." My sobs get louder and my vision blurs. When he tries to grab my face, I slap him.

"My cue to go. I can see that you're sorting it out between yourselves just fine." Frank's footsteps fading away are nothing compared to the sound of my heart breaking.

"I like you, I really like you. At first it wasn't my intention to start a relationship with you, but then I got to know you and-" Every word that escapes him is only worse.

"Stop talking! You know what the worst thing is that I liked you for so long before you even talked to me. And I thought it was a miracle when you first spoke to me in the libary. I should have listened to the others, you only care about yourself!" I wipe the tears from my cheeks, wishing I could be anywhere but here.

Then before he can say anything, I turn around and run out of the house. But I hear him following me.

"Wait! Don't just walk away, I have to get this straight. Hey!" He catches me, turns me around and holds my tear-stained face in his hands.

"I'm an idiot, I know that. I'm sorry for hurting you. I- God, I love you. You hear me? I love you too. Please stay." But I just shake my head and try to free myself from his grip.

"How do I know if that isn't a lie too? You've betrayed me, I can't talk to you now." When my car pulls up, I get in without turning around. I don't look back, even though his loud curse can be heard throughout the whole neighborhood.

🔗🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

I spend the next few days without saying much, but I cried almost the whole time.

I miss him incredibly, not a day has gone by in the last few months when I haven't seen him and now I've been alone for three days.

I wish he was here, but on the other hand I am so hurt and feel terrible. He is the reason for this.

I wish I had never found out. I wish he had never done it, never lied to me. Didn't use me for money, but worst of all, I don't know if he even likes me.

Today is the first day that I go back to school. Even though I put on make-up, choose a nice outfit and listen to my favorite songs to distract myself, I can only think of him.

His blonde hair, his beautiful eyes, the way his lips felt. How he felt inside me. Then I remember that he loves me and how he finally said it, something I have wanted to hear for so long.

But then I think about what he did and everything feels empty again.

As I enter the school, my friends come to meet me. They already know what happened, they all hug me and I feel a little better.

Until I see him.

And he sees me too. It takes all my effort to avert my gaze. To get my books out of my cupboard, but then I have to stop because he is not standing next to me offering to carry them.

I take it myself, close my door, but before I can go any further, he is standing in front of me. My heart stops. Oh, how his eyes shine.

"Do you need help?" His eyes focus on the books and I have to swallow several times before I can answer.

"No, I have to go to class now." But as I try to walk past him, he stops me.

"You don't answer my texts, you don't call me back. I'm not allowed into your house and you avoid me at school. What can I do? Please tell me what I need to do, so you forgive me." I laugh, but it is without humor.

"What can you do? Move."

I can see his shock, but he still doesn't step aside.

"Can't you hear me? I said-" but he walks toward me until I'm forced to lean my back against the lockers.

His eyes find mine.

"I can't sleep. And when I do, I dream of you. There's a - a hole in my heart that only you can fill. It hurts and I hate not being with you. It's even worse to be here, when you don't look at me the way you usually do. You don't smile at me, God, you don't look like you're in love with me anymore. It's hell."

Tears gather in my eyes, his words are so desperate, it hurts to see him like this.

"Maybe you should have thought about that before you took advantage of me. Before you slept with me." A tear runs down my cheek and I know my mascara is smudging.

"I know, I know. And I feel so bad, I'll do anything to make it right. Just tell me."

When I look into his eyes, my heart also hurts.

"Move, Carl. I can't see you now." This time he lets go of me and I go to class with tears in my eyes.

🔗🔗🔗🔗

Your pov

It's been four weeks since we last spoke, but it doesn't hurt any less to see him. Even if I don't let him talk to me, he doesn't give up.

He puts flowers in my locker, chocolate, and notes full of apologies and sweet promises.

Everything warms my heart, but it still feels like this money thing is unresolved between us. I know now that he likes me, very much in fact, as he makes it clear, but that doesn't change the real problem.

That he used me for my money.

As I leave school that day, I feel exhausted and, as I often do, I wish I had his arms around me.

Holding me tight, his lips kissing me, loving me.

As I wait for my father's car, I suddenly hear his familiar throat clearing. With my heart pounding, I turn around and see him smiling uncertainly at me.

"I know what I had to do and now I've done it. Here." He gives me an envelope and I take it uncertainly.

"Carl, your letters are flattering, but-" He quickly interrupts me.

"No, it's something else. Open it." The deja vu hits me unexpectedly and I slowly open the envelope, the content leaves me speechless.

"What is that supposed to be?" It's rhetorical, but I ask anyway.

"All the money I owe you. What you've kindly given me, I pay it back. Every cent. You can count." He looks so proud, I almost have to laugh.

"How- did you rob a bank?" He grins contentedly at my reaction.

"An old grandma." This time I laugh and he comes closer to me, slowly taking my hands.

"No, seriously. How did you do that?" He looks at me lovingly.

"Working in the kitchen every day after school, I found a part-time job with Fiona. The payment is bad, but it was worth it. I understand that money was the problem and well, that I wasn't honest to you." As I lower the envelope, we look at each other.

"Promise, no more secrets?"

He smiles and suddenly the world is a brighter place.

"Promise, but we continue one of our agreements." I raise my eyebrows questioningly, seeing him grin as he leans toward me, his breath brushing against my lips and he whispers:

"I'll still spend my breaks with you in the janitor's room."

The laughter that escapes me gets interrupted, when his lips meet mine.

[novaursa]

To Win a Princess (watchful)

- Summary: Once you come of age, the realm seeks to curry the King's favor once more by seeking a hand of his younger daughter. You. 

- Paring: targ!reader/Tyland Lannister

- Note: Some events in this story may differ from the canon.

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: dragon's favor

- Next part: stolen moments

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @alyssa-dayne @oxymakestheworldgoround

Daemon has returned to King’s Landing, and with him comes a ripple of unrest, running thick as dragonfire through every hall, every shadowed corridor of the keep. His presence is like a storm on the horizon, a threat unspoken yet understood, hovering over the court. Servants bow and scurry, whispers travel swiftly, and the nobles in the throne room try to appear composed, though their unease betrays them. For you, it is almost thrilling—the arrival of your rogue uncle, the one who often only existed in your family’s stories, now come to life again.

But Tyland? Tyland Lannister is not at ease. His gaze darts to you constantly, sharp and vigilant, his mouth set in a firm line, as though he could guard you from Daemon’s gaze by sheer will. You sense the unease in his usually calm demeanor, his fingers pressing into his palm as he watches the doors.

You do not share his worry. Perhaps you should, but something in you delights at the newness of it all—the disruption Daemon brings, the way it unsettles those around you, even Tyland, so often unwavering. But now, under the scrutiny of Daemon Targaryen’s arrival, he seems almost… vulnerable.

“Y/N,” Tyland murmurs, his voice barely a whisper as he sidles closer to you in the throne room, his presence a warm, steadying shadow beside you. “Promise me, you won’t stray far today.”

You raise an eyebrow, amusement flickering in your eyes. “Afraid my uncle will charm me away?”

His expression darkens, tension pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Daemon’s charms are not something to jest about.”

“Tyland.” Your voice drops, your tone gentling. “Daemon may be many things, but he’s still family.”

He presses his lips together, looking away briefly, as though gathering his thoughts. “Your family… not mine.” He hesitates. “And his reputation precedes him. Your father knows it too—why do you think he kept Daemon away for so long?”

You look at Tyland with some intrigue, the shift in his usual confident poise catching you off guard. It’s rare to see the worry so clear in his usually polished gaze, a worry you realize is less for himself and more for you. He’s too cautious to let his true feelings show in such a public place, but in this moment, you catch glimpses of them, each concealed concern stitched between his words. “You worry too much,” you finally say, keeping your tone light, though your heart skips at the protectiveness he cannot fully hide.

Your attention is soon drawn to the throne room doors, which open with a low creak, and the atmosphere shifts as Daemon himself strides in. He wears his usual confidence like armor, dark violet eyes sweeping the room before settling, almost lazily, upon you. His smirk is subtle, wolfish, and you feel Tyland’s hand tense at your side.

Daemon’s eyes linger on you for a fraction too long, assessing, and then slide away, landing on your father, King Viserys. A murmur runs through the court, voices hushed, shoulders drawn tight. Tyland’s presence beside you is like an anchor as Daemon approaches the throne, bending to one knee in a show of respect that seems almost mocking.

"Brother." Viserys’s voice holds both weariness and authority. “To what do we owe this unexpected visit?”

Daemon’s smile widens slightly, a flicker of amusement glinting in his eyes. “Merely to pay respects, Your Grace. And to see my kin,” he says, his gaze flicking toward you once more, holding you in place.

The anxiety surrounding Tyland is palpable. You can feel his unease like a tether holding you close, as if his grip alone could shield you from Daemon’s gaze. He leans slightly closer to you, murmuring under his breath, “Do not let him draw you in.”

“Daemon?” You keep your voice light, aiming to soothe Tyland’s frayed nerves. “He’s nothing to be concerned about.”

Yet even as you say it, you feel the weight of Daemon’s scrutiny, as though he can see through the layers of formality, straight to the untold secrets hidden within. There’s a flash of possessiveness in Tyland’s gaze as he watches Daemon’s smirk—an expression both brazen and intimate, though you and Daemon have exchanged no words.

As the court session draws on, you find yourself pulled into conversation with Daemon himself. It’s subtle, a maneuver that Tyland could not intercede without drawing suspicion. Daemon’s tone is rich with false innocence as he turns to you, offering a slight bow.

“Niece,” he greets, a flicker of amusement sparking in his eyes, “I have heard much of you in my absence. It seems you have grown into quite the presence here in court.”

You return his smirk with a polite smile, feeling Tyland’s gaze burning at your back. “Perhaps you heard exaggerations, Uncle.”

“Hardly.” Daemon’s eyes gleam, leaning in slightly, his voice low enough for only you to hear. “But I am surprised. You seem… unguarded.”

There’s an edge in his words, a faint, almost challenging tone, as if he’s testing the waters, assessing the boundaries that lie between you. You raise an eyebrow, meeting his gaze steadily, unflinching. “Perhaps you were the one who let rumors grow wild in your absence, Uncle.”

Daemon’s smirk widens, dark amusement flashing in his eyes. “Sharp-tongued, just like your sister.” His gaze drifts briefly over your shoulder, and you know without looking that Tyland is watching, stiff, barely containing his unease.

“Tell me,” Daemon continues, tilting his head, “what do you think of court these days? I would assume it has kept you… entertained?”

He speaks as if he knows something more, as though he can read between the words, and you choose to remain unreadable, every flicker of expression measured. “Court,” you say carefully, “is never dull.”

At this, Daemon lets out a soft chuckle, but it’s Tyland’s presence that grounds you. Even from across the room, you sense his protectiveness, feel his gaze linger, as though his very watchfulness could shield you from whatever Daemon might intend.

And then Daemon’s smirk softens into something more dangerous, his voice dropping low. “Family can be a powerful thing, Y/N. And there are those who might seek to use it.” His gaze hardens, flickering between Tyland and you.

The words linger in the air, an unspoken threat masked as advice. He straightens and nods at you, an odd glint in his eye as he steps back, his presence fading from your side but leaving his message behind, layered and unmistakable.

When you meet Tyland later, in the shadowed alcove by the garden, he does not hesitate. His hands find yours, grip tight with urgency. “Y/N,” he breathes, brushing a thumb across your knuckles, “you cannot take this lightly.”

You feel his heartbeat beneath his skin, steady yet strained. “I know,” you reply softly, allowing yourself a rare vulnerability in his presence. “But you needn’t fear for me, Tyland.”

He leans forward, forehead brushing yours, his voice barely a murmur. “It’s not just Daemon, Y/N. You’re surrounded by vultures here—everyone with their own schemes.”

You look up at him, meeting the intensity of his gaze. “And what of you, Tyland? Are you not one of those ‘vultures’?”

His breath hitches, a ghost of a smile flickering across his lips. “Perhaps.” He brushes a hand through your hair, his expression softening, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. “But only to keep you safe.”

You stay there in the alcove, enveloped by Tyland’s warmth, his steady grip grounding you amidst the storm swirling around the Red Keep.

As the court disperses and the courtiers filter out, leaving the air filled with whispers and speculations, Daemon and Viserys linger. You catch a glimpse of Daemon giving you one last glance, an unreadable expression flickering across his face before he turns to his brother, following him to a secluded chamber within the Red Keep.

Once inside, the door closes with a resounding echo, sealing the two brothers away from the prying eyes and ears of the court. Viserys takes his seat with a weariness that seems etched into his bones, but his gaze on Daemon is sharp, wary of whatever storm his younger brother has brought with him.

"Why have you returned, Daemon?" Viserys’s voice is measured, careful. It’s not an accusation, but it isn’t welcoming either.

Daemon, as usual, appears unfazed, moving to pour himself a goblet of wine. He holds it in his hand, swirling it as he regards Viserys with that unsettling calm. “Why, dear brother, is it so strange for a man to wish to see his family?”

Viserys narrows his eyes. “It is strange when that man is you.” His voice drops, edged with frustration. “You left us, Daemon, stormed off to the Stepstones and left behind chaos in your wake. And now you return, unannounced, with no warning, as if you expect to simply resume your place here. What game do you think you’re playing?”

Daemon’s lips curve into a wry smile. “I never left, Viserys. Not truly. My absence was merely physical.” He takes a slow sip of his wine, watching his brother over the rim of the goblet. “But you must admit, the court is… fascinating these days.”

Viserys’s jaw tightens. “If you think to meddle in the affairs of my court—”

“Your court?” Daemon’s eyes glint with a flash of something darker, something dangerous. He sets the goblet down and steps closer, his gaze boring into Viserys. “You mean Otto Hightower’s court, don’t you?”

A silence hangs between them, thick and charged. Viserys’s face betrays a flicker of guilt, of resignation, before he composes himself. “Otto serves me faithfully. He is my Hand.”

Daemon scoffs. “Faithfully? He’s a snake, brother. One who has wrapped himself around you, whispering in your ear, poisoning everything you touch.” His voice lowers, a mocking edge creeping in. “Did you think he wouldn’t try to control your children as well?”

At that, Viserys’s face hardens. “Leave my family out of this.”

Daemon smirks, the expression cold. “Your family? What about mine? I have more kin here than you realize.” His words are layered, and for a moment, a chill settles in the room as his gaze sharpens. “Including your… younger daughter.”

Viserys’s posture stiffens at that, a flicker of protectiveness flashing across his features. “You would not dare to involve her in your schemes. She’s little more than a child, Daemon, and has nothing to do with your grievances.”

Daemon’s smile is slow, predatory. “Oh, I don’t need to involve her in anything, brother. The court already has plans for her.” He pauses, a glint of satisfaction in his eyes. “It’s fascinating, truly, how eagerly they plan her future without your knowledge.”

Viserys’s face contorts with barely concealed frustration. “And what would you know of it?”

“More than you, apparently,” Daemon replies smoothly. “The vultures are circling, Viserys. Alicent, Otto, even that insipid son of his, Gwayne—they see her as a prize to be claimed, a tool to be wielded. You may have promised her a choice, but it is slipping through your fingers.”

Viserys falls silent, his gaze shadowed. It’s clear that his brother’s words strike a nerve, an uncomfortable truth he’d rather not face. “I will protect her,” he finally says, voice laced with conviction, yet tinged with the weight of doubt.

“Will you?” Daemon’s tone is a whisper, but there’s a blade hidden in his words. “Or will you let them marry her off, like a toy in their games?”

Viserys’s fists clench, a mixture of anger and resignation flashing across his face. “I would never allow that. She deserves more.”

“Then give her more, brother.” Daemon’s voice softens, almost coaxing, though his eyes remain sharp, assessing. “She’s a Targaryen. Fire and blood, not some tool for Otto to control.”

Viserys finally meets Daemon’s gaze, his face drawn. “And what would you suggest, Daemon? That she go with you? That you influence her as you did Rhaenyra?”

A slow smile spreads across Daemon’s lips, tinged with a trace of fondness and something darker. “If that is what it takes. Better her in my company than in the clutches of the Hightowers.”

Viserys leans forward, his voice taut with warning. “She is my daughter, Daemon. Not yours. And I’ll not have you corrupting her as you have so many others.”

Daemon laughs, low and mocking. “Corrupting her? Viserys, I’d be saving her from the true corruption in this court.” He steps back, a cold amusement flickering in his gaze. “But don’t worry, brother. For now, I’ll simply watch. After all, she is… a treasure.”

The words linger, laced with implications that seem to rattle Viserys more deeply than anything Daemon has said thus far. He rises slowly, his voice firm. “She is not a game piece in your schemes, Daemon. Nor will I allow her to be.”

Daemon’s expression shifts, turning almost contemplative, though the edge of amusement remains. “We shall see, brother. I do not need to scheme where truths lie plain as day.”

With that, Daemon bows—more a mockery of respect than sincerity—and makes his way out of the chamber, leaving Viserys alone, his shoulders weighted with the gravity of what’s been spoken.

And as Daemon exits, there’s a glimmer in his eyes, an unspoken promise that his words were not a warning, but a challenge.

The gardens of the Red Keep are awash in soft light, casting a serene glow over the paths winding through the foliage. You walk with measured steps, the silk of your gown brushing against your ankles, surrounded by your handmaidens. Their laughter fills the air as they talk among themselves, but your mind wanders, lost in thoughts too private to share. The recent arrival of Daemon has shifted the balance of the court, stirring currents unseen, but you have learned to wear a mask of calm, even as you feel those changes ripple around you.

A voice calls your name, polite yet eager, breaking through the reverie. You turn to see Ser Gwayne Hightower, his face alight with a confident smile that barely conceals his anticipation. He’s dressed impeccably, his tunic embroidered with his house colors, and he bows slightly as he approaches.

"Princess Y/N,” he greets, his tone pleasant, if a touch too enthusiastic. "I was hoping to find you here. May I join you?"

The handmaidens exchange glances, exchanging smiles and whispers, but you offer him a polite nod. “Of course, Ser Gwayne.”

He takes his place at your side, walking beside you, though there’s a hesitation in his movements. You can sense his eagerness to say more, to capture your attention fully, but your mind is elsewhere, your gaze drifting back to your handmaidens as they chatter, filling the silence Gwayne seems almost afraid to break.

“So,” he begins after a moment, clearing his throat, “I trust the day finds you well?”

“Yes, quite well,” you reply, your voice gentle but distant. “And you, Ser Gwayne?”

“Very well indeed,” he replies, perhaps too quickly. “Though… my days are made brighter by your company.” He gives a small smile, almost boyish, as he glances at you, but you offer only a gracious nod in return, your gaze already shifting back to the handmaidens, who have wandered slightly ahead.

Undeterred, Gwayne presses on. “It seems I rarely get the chance to speak with you alone,” he says, a hint of frustration in his tone. “Each time I seek you out, you’re called away.”

You glance at him, a faint smile curving your lips. “The duties of court are endless, as I’m sure you understand.”

“Indeed,” he agrees, though there’s an edge to his voice, a trace of impatience. “But even the busiest of ladies must have some time for leisure.”

You tilt your head, meeting his gaze with a polite curiosity. “Are you suggesting I spend too much time attending to my duties, Ser Gwayne?”

His cheeks color slightly, and he laughs, though it sounds forced. “No, my lady, only that I would enjoy your company if you ever found the time for… simpler pleasures.” He gestures toward the gardens, as if to illustrate his point, his hand brushing the petals of a blooming rose.

You nod politely, your expression composed, though your heart remains unmoved by his attempts. “I have always enjoyed the gardens,” you reply, voice soft. “They provide a certain peace, don’t you think?”

“Peace, yes, but also beauty,” he says, his gaze lingering on you longer than the flowers. “Much like yourself, my lady.”

The compliment is earnest, almost desperate, and you give him a small, courteous smile. “You are kind, Ser Gwayne.”

But there’s a distance in your words, a polite barrier that he cannot seem to breach. He shifts uncomfortably, searching for something more to say, as though afraid that silence would lose your attention entirely.

“Tell me,” he ventures, a little more boldly, “is there anything you find wanting in King’s Landing? Perhaps something you miss?”

You pause, considering his question, before answering with a thoughtful look. “Perhaps sailing the open sea,” you say softly. “Its vastness, the feeling of the wind… there’s a freedom to it that the walls of the Red Keep cannot provide.”

His eyes light up, seizing on the answer with almost too much enthusiasm. “The sea, yes! Perhaps one day, I could accompany you to the shores. We could ride out to Blackwater Bay and—”

You cut him off with a polite chuckle, gesturing for him to lower his voice as your handmaidens glance back, curious. “Perhaps,” you say, neither agreeing nor refusing, the soft lilt of amusement in your tone deflecting his eagerness without discouraging it outright.

He hesitates, seeming to sense the delicate boundary you’ve drawn, yet clearly struggling to accept it. “Forgive me, my lady,” he says, after a moment, his tone more subdued. “I only wish to know you better.”

You glance at him, feeling his earnestness, yet sensing the restraint within yourself—the line you know he must not cross. “Ser Gwayne, we are well-acquainted already, are we not?” Your voice is soft, kind but measured. “There is no need for haste.”

He smiles, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Perhaps… but if only I could…” He trails off, seeming to search for the right words. “If I could be more than an acquaintance, Princess Y/N, I would be honored.”

You pause, your gaze holding his with a serene detachment. “I value your friendship, Ser Gwayne,” you say carefully, each word chosen with precision. “And I am certain that friendship will serve us well, whatever may come.”

The quietness of your response, though not unkind, settles heavily upon him. He smiles, though it’s strained, his hope dimming. “Of course, my lady. Friendship is… indeed a precious gift.”

There’s a brief silence, one that stretches and feels almost hollow, as though the words he truly wishes to say are lost. He walks beside you in silence after that, and though his presence lingers, you return to the companionship of your handmaidens, their laughter and easy conversation providing a respite from the tension he brings.

As the path winds back toward the Red Keep, Gwayne stops, bowing deeply. “Thank you, my lady, for allowing me to accompany you.” He offers a small, strained smile, knowing that he’s failed to break through your polite, unyielding distance.

“Until next time, Ser Gwayne,” you reply with a gentle smile, one that is warm enough to be kind, yet distant enough to remind him of the boundaries you have set. As he watches you go, you sense the weight of his gaze on your back, his disappointment evident, but you step forward, returning to the comfort of your own thoughts and the familiarity of your handmaidens’ company.

The atmosphere in the small council chamber is taut, weighed down by the sudden, unforeseen presence of Daemon Targaryen. Each member of the council is seated around the polished table, their expressions ranging from wary to openly displeased, yet all are careful to mask their thoughts beneath a veil of courtly civility. King Viserys sits at the head, his face drawn and weary, yet resolute in his choice to bring Daemon back into the fold, a decision that has stirred unrest among his advisors.

Daemon himself lounges at the far end of the table, a faint smirk playing at his lips as he surveys the council. His gaze is as sharp as a dragon’s, taking in each man’s expression, as though savoring the discomfort his presence brings. Beside him, Otto Hightower sits stiff and silent, his face set in a hard line, while Lord Beesbury shifts uneasily, his gaze flicking between Daemon and the King. Tyland, ever perceptive, watches Daemon with guarded curiosity, though he keeps his face carefully composed.

Viserys clears his throat, breaking the silence. “Thank you all for attending. I have asked Daemon to join us in matters of state, as he is my brother and a prince of the realm.”

Otto, who has been silent, leans forward, his voice cool and measured. “Your Grace,” he begins carefully, “while none would question Prince Daemon’s lineage, his… reputation precedes him. His presence here has caused considerable unrest among the court.”

Daemon chuckles softly, as though amused by Otto’s thinly veiled remark. “Unrest, Otto? My, you make it sound as if I’ve arrived with fire and blood.”

Otto’s jaw tightens, but he restrains himself, casting a quick glance at Viserys before responding. “The people of King’s Landing recall the last time you graced us with your… presence, my prince. Many still bear the marks of your ‘cleansing’ of the city.”

Daemon merely shrugs, his smirk widening. “They bear marks? It seems they should thank me for reminding them of their loyalty to the Crown.” His gaze shifts, sweeping over the others seated at the table, lingering briefly on Tyland, who meets it with calm indifference.

Viserys raises a hand, silencing them both. “We are not here to rehash the past, but to look forward. Daemon has returned, and as my brother, he has a rightful place on this council.” His tone softens, weary yet firm. “It is my hope that we can move beyond… past conflicts.”

Lord Beesbury shifts, clearly uncomfortable, and finally speaks up, his voice quivering slightly. “Your Grace, I do not wish to question your judgment, but I fear that Prince Daemon’s return will do more to unsettle the court than to reassure it. His intentions are unclear, and rumors have already begun to spread…”

Daemon laughs, a low, almost sinister sound. “Rumors, Lord Beesbury? Do you always put such weight in the words of idle courtiers?” He looks around the table, his gaze as unsettling as his smile. “Or is it just my presence that makes you so quick to believe?”

Jasper Wylde clears his throat. “It is not just about rumors, Prince Daemon,” he says carefully, his voice even and composed. “The suddenness of your return, without warning or clear purpose… It does raise questions.”

Daemon tilts his head, as though genuinely curious. “Do you need a clearer purpose than family, Lord Wylde? Or do you not believe in loyalty?”

The council falls silent, animosity crackling in the air. Tyland finally speaks, his voice calm yet carrying an undertone of challenge. “Loyalty is not in question here, my prince. It’s the manner in which loyalty is displayed that concerns us. Respect, duty… these are the pillars of loyalty.”

Daemon’s gaze snaps to Tyland, a flicker of interest in his eyes, as though he’s taken note of something in Tyland’s words. But, surprisingly, he says nothing, merely raising an eyebrow as he regards the young Lannister lord with something close to amusement. Tyland holds his gaze for a moment, his expression unyielding, before shifting his attention back to Viserys.

Viserys seems to sigh in relief at Tyland’s intervention, grateful for the shift in the discussion. “Daemon,” he says, tone softer yet firm, “if you are to sit on this council, you must understand that trust is earned, not demanded. You are my brother, and I welcome you, but it is for the benefit of the realm that we all tread carefully.”

Daemon inclines his head, a slight mockery in his movement. “Of course, brother. I am here to serve the realm, just as you wish.”

Otto, seizing the opportunity, speaks up. “And in serving the realm, Prince Daemon, I assume you’ll respect the decisions made here, especially regarding… delicate matters.”

“Delicate matters?” Daemon’s smile grows sharper, as though relishing the underlying tension. “Surely, you do not refer to my niece, do you, Lord Hightower?”

There’s a pause, and a flicker of something dangerous passes through Otto’s eyes before he replies. “I speak only of the necessity to protect the future of the Crown, my prince. Lady Y/N is, after all, a valuable asset to the realm, one who must be guided wisely.”

Daemon’s gaze darkens at that, and for a moment, his easy demeanor slips, revealing a brief flash of anger. “An asset?” he repeats, his tone low, cold. “Princess Y/N is family. She is no pawn for you to move on your board, Otto.”

“Enough.” Viserys’s voice cuts through the rising tension, a firm reminder of his authority. “Princess Y/N is my daughter, and her future will be determined by my will, and mine alone.” His gaze shifts to Daemon, almost pleading. “I trust you remember that, Daemon.”

Daemon holds Viserys’s gaze for a long moment, then inclines his head, though his eyes remain hard. “Of course, Your Grace.”

A strained silence settles over the table, broken only by the faint shuffling of robes as the council members shift in their seats, clearly uneasy. Mellos clears his throat, speaking in his usual monotone. “If we might turn our attention back to matters of the realm…”

Viserys nods, seizing the chance to move on. “Yes, let us continue. Otto, you mentioned concerns regarding the grain stores…”

The meeting continues, though Daemon’s presence lingers like a shadow over every word spoken. Tyland listens with one ear, yet his gaze occasionally drifts to Daemon, watching the prince’s reactions, noting the calculating gleam in his eyes each time his niece is mentioned. The council may carry on, but the true heart of the discussion, the simmering unease over Princess Y/N’s future, is left unspoken, lying like kindling within each word spoken.

As the council disperses, Daemon lingers near the door, catching Tyland’s eye as he passes. For a moment, Tyland feels the weight of that intense gaze, as though Daemon has seen through his carefully composed demeanor. But Daemon says nothing, merely offering him a knowing smile that holds as many threats as it does secrets, before disappearing into the shadows of the Red Keep.

Tyland watches him go, a chill settling in his chest. He knows, as do the others, that Daemon’s presence is no mere family reunion. The prince’s return has stirred something dangerous, something that cannot be so easily quelled. And as he walks away from the council chambers, Tyland cannot shake the feeling that, despite his best efforts, he may soon be pulled into a battle he cannot win.

The sun is setting over King’s Landing, casting a warm, amber glow across the stone walls of the Red Keep. The city below hums with life, but up here, away from the prying eyes of courtiers and whispers of scheming lords, you find a rare moment of peace in the secluded alcove of the gardens. Waiting in the dappled shadows, you feel the tension that has clung to you since the morning ease, replaced by the quiet thrill of anticipation.

And then, you hear his footsteps. Tyland steps into the garden, his gaze finding yours with a warmth that softens the lines of worry on his face. He approaches, his hand reaching out instinctively, brushing his fingers across yours in a brief, tender gesture before pulling you further into the shaded corner. For a moment, he simply holds your hand, his thumb tracing gentle circles over your knuckles as he studies you, the weight of the day visible in his eyes.

“You’re here,” he murmurs, relief and fondness mingling in his voice.

You smile, leaning in slightly, teasing him. “Where else would I be?”

He chuckles, though it’s weary, his gaze falling to the ground for a moment before he looks back up at you, his expression earnest. “Every day that I have you here feels… borrowed. Especially now, with everything shifting so quickly.”

You tilt your head, catching the faint edge of unease in his words. “Are you so worried, Tyland? I am still with you, after all.”

He sighs, a hint of frustration coloring his tone. “Worried? Yes, Y/N, more than you realize.” His hand tightens around yours. “With Otto constantly pushing his agendas, twisting the King’s ear, it was already enough to keep up. But now…” He trails off, his gaze drifting back to the Red Keep, his voice lowering. “Now, Daemon has returned as well. His presence alone is like a spark in a room filled with wildfire.”

You lift an eyebrow, a hint of amusement softening your features. “So, are you telling me you’re afraid of my uncle, Tyland?”

“Afraid?” He laughs, though it’s without much humor. “Daemon has no loyalty to anything but himself. He doesn’t follow rules, nor does he care for the boundaries others would have him obey. And when it comes to… matters of family, he is especially bold.”

You smirk, tilting your head to catch his gaze, a glint of mischief in your eyes. “Bold, perhaps. But he does not have me.”

Tyland’s grip on your hand tightens, a possessive gleam flashing in his eyes. He steps closer, his voice soft but intense. “No, he doesn’t. But it’s not just him I fear. It’s the influence he brings—the way people bend to his will, the way he moves through court as if it were his to command.” He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his fingers lingering against your cheek. “Having Otto push his own agenda was enough, but now Daemon’s returned to disrupt every carefully laid plan… and they both see you as the center of it all.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you gaze up at him, your voice gentle yet teasing. “Oh, Tyland, you speak as if I am surrounded by enemies. Yet here I am, alone with you.” You press a hand to his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. “Does that not reassure you?”

He sighs, his hand covering yours as he draws you closer. “It does… for now. But they have plans for you, Y/N. Otto, Daemon, even your father—they all want to shape your future in ways they believe best. And I… I am caught between them, with no right to you but the one we’ve made in secret.”

You reach up, brushing your fingers along his jaw, feeling the tension in the muscles beneath his skin. “Tyland,” you say softly, your voice soothing. “We may not have a right in their eyes yet, but I am here of my own choice. And I choose you.”

He closes his eyes briefly, exhaling as if letting go of a weight he’s been holding. When he opens them again, his gaze is softer, vulnerable in a way that he rarely allows anyone else to see. “You don’t know what that means to me,” he whispers, lifting your hand to his lips, pressing a lingering kiss to your knuckles.

You watch him, feeling the warmth of his breath against your skin, a smile tugging at your lips. “Then let me show you.” You lean in, your voice barely more than a whisper. “I’ve chosen you, Tyland. And no matter what they plot, no matter what games they play, I am yours.”

He hesitates for a moment, as though he can hardly believe the words, before pulling you into his arms. His hand finds the back of your neck, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that is both gentle and fervent, filled with the silent promises you’ve shared in the quiet spaces away from prying eyes. The world around you fades, leaving only the warmth of his embrace, the softness of his breath mingling with yours.

When you finally part, his gaze lingers on you, his hand resting against your cheek as if he fears you might vanish if he lets go. “You don’t know how many times I’ve wanted to say it, how many times I’ve wanted to hold you like this in the light of day.”

You smile, brushing a stray lock of his hair back. “Then say it, Tyland. Say it now, with no secrets between us.”

He swallows, his voice rough with emotion as he speaks. “I love you, Y/N. I’ve loved you from the moment I realized you were more than just a noblewoman bound by duty. You are… everything.”

Your heart swells at his words, and you press a kiss to his forehead, letting the moment settle between you like a vow. “And I love you, Tyland. Whatever schemes they weave, whatever forces they throw at us… we will face them together.”

He smiles, his face softening with a rare vulnerability. “Then let them come,” he murmurs, his arms tightening around you as though he could shield you from the world. “As long as I have you, I’ll endure whatever they bring.”

For a moment, you stand there, wrapped in each other’s embrace, holding fast to the love you’ve managed to carve out in a world so determined to pull you apart. And as the last light of day fades into twilight, you find a sense of peace, knowing that, whatever battles lie ahead, you will face them together.

The air in Rhaenyra’s solar is thick with incense, a faint, smoky aroma clinging to the air as Daemon enters, a glint of mischief in his eyes as he regards his niece. She watches him with a mix of curiosity and wariness, seated gracefully by the open window, her gown trailing around her like a pool of dark silk. Daemon closes the door behind him, leaning against it with an air of casual insolence, as though he owns the space.

“Quite the welcome home,” he muses, his voice laced with mock admiration. “Seems everything’s taken an interesting turn in my absence, hasn’t it?”

Rhaenyra smirks, crossing her arms as she watches him with amusement. “You do seem surprised, Uncle. Surely you didn’t expect us all to simply wait for your return?”

Daemon chuckles, stepping further into the room, his gaze flicking over the delicate tapestries and rich decor before settling back on Rhaenyra. “Patience was never my virtue, you know that. But I hadn’t expected the court to be so… lively.” He pauses, a sly smile curving his lips. “Or for my dear niece to be such a popular subject.”

Rhaenyra’s expression doesn’t change, but her gaze sharpens, a glimmer of protectiveness flashing in her eyes. “Y/N has grown, yes. But what of it? She’s under my father’s protection, as well as mine.”

Daemon chuckles, a knowing look crossing his face. “Oh, I know she’s well protected, Rhaenyra. I merely find it curious how many eyes are on her. Otto’s been practically falling over himself trying to position his oafish son near her—Gwayne Hightower, moping about the Keep like a kicked dog. He looks at her as though he’s lost something he never had.”

Rhaenyra raises an eyebrow, a smirk tugging at her lips. “And what of it? Gwayne’s infatuation is harmless enough.”

Daemon leans forward, his eyes gleaming with interest. “Is it, though? From the way he skulks around, I’d say he thinks he has some claim.” His gaze narrows, as though weighing his words. “And he’s not the only one sniffing about. Tyland Lannister, for instance… he watches her with a different sort of gaze.”

At the mention of Tyland, Rhaenyra’s smile falters, but she composes herself quickly, her tone breezy. “Tyland is loyal to the throne, like his brother. And as for Y/N, she is a lady of the court, and attention is natural. It’s nothing worth noting.”

Daemon’s eyes flicker with amusement as he watches her carefully, clearly catching her subtle reaction. “Oh, is that so?” he murmurs, tilting his head. “How curious that you’d be so eager to dismiss it, given your loyalty to her.”

“Loyalty,” Rhaenyra repeats smoothly, meeting his gaze with a calm intensity, “is something I extend to all my family, especially my sister. Whatever Tyland may or may not feel is his concern. Y/N is under my protection, and there is no need to read further into it.”

Daemon watches her closely, his smirk widening as he senses her carefully guarded tone. “Very noble of you,” he says, a trace of amusement coloring his voice. “But noble deeds aren’t your usual concern, Rhaenyra. Tell me, what is it you’re hiding?”

Rhaenyra’s expression doesn’t waver, though a flicker of warning enters her gaze. “You may be my uncle, Daemon, but even you don’t know everything.”

Daemon chuckles, impressed. “Fair enough.” He moves to the window, glancing out over the city as he speaks, his voice light, yet probing. “Still, I can’t help but wonder… why would Tyland, of all people, show such keen interest in our little Y/N? He doesn’t seem like the sort to be driven by mere courtly flirtation. He’s careful, calculating.” He pauses, casting her a sidelong glance. “Quite unlike the rest of his family.”

Rhaenyra’s response is smooth, a practiced indifference in her tone. “Perhaps Tyland simply enjoys intelligent company. Y/N is spirited, intelligent—qualities that would interest any man of taste.” She shrugs, her gaze steady. “But she is also discerning enough not to be swayed by empty flattery.”

Daemon’s eyes narrow, his curiosity sharpening as he catches the hint of steel in her voice. “Is that so? I would have thought you might steer her toward more advantageous company. After all, there are plenty of lords in the realm who would be honored to have her as a wife.”

Rhaenyra leans back in her chair, crossing her arms, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “Y/N is not a prize to be won, Daemon. She is my sister, and her happiness is her own concern. I trust her judgment.”

Daemon laughs, shaking his head. “Such a loyal sister. It’s almost touching.” He turns, folding his arms as he regards her with a glint of suspicion. “But you know, you’re not as subtle as you think, Rhaenyra. There’s more to this than you’re letting on.”

She merely smiles, her expression placid, unyielding. “Believe what you wish, Uncle.”

He watches her a moment longer, a calculating glint in his eyes, before shrugging, seemingly letting the matter drop. “Very well. But tell me, what does the King think of all this? Surely he has his own ideas about Y/N’s future.”

Rhaenyra’s gaze shifts slightly, though her tone remains composed. “My father is preoccupied with matters of the realm, and he trusts me to see to Y/N’s wellbeing. I am her protector, and he respects that.”

Daemon raises an eyebrow, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Protector, indeed. One might think you’ve grown rather… protective of your little sister’s affairs.”

She meets his gaze unflinchingly, her expression firm. “Family protects family, Daemon. Surely you, of all people, understand that.”

He laughs, a low, rich sound, shaking his head. “Oh, I understand it well enough. Perhaps better than anyone else.” His gaze softens, if only slightly, as he regards her, something almost like pride flickering in his eyes. “It’s good to know you’ve become so… capable, niece.”

Rhaenyra allows herself a small smile, though her expression remains guarded. “Capable or not, I will do whatever it takes to keep those I love safe. You should remember that.”

Daemon’s smirk widens, a gleam of approval in his gaze. “Indeed. But I do hope you’re prepared, Rhaenyra. The court is not so easily handled. Between Otto, Tyland, and even poor Gwayne moping about, there will be plenty of games to play.”

She raises an eyebrow, a hint of amusement in her voice. “Games are nothing new to me, Uncle.”

“True enough.” He pauses, his gaze shifting back toward the window as though seeing something far beyond it. “Still, there’s something uniquely amusing about watching all of them dance around each other. Gwayne, Tyland, even Otto… all hoping to win the favor of a lady who has her own mind.”

“Is that truly all it is to you? Amusement?” Rhaenyra asks, her tone laced with skepticism.

Daemon’s expression shifts, his gaze turning shrewd, thoughtful. “Perhaps. But then again,” he murmurs, “one can never underestimate the allure of amusement… or the power it can wield.”

Rhaenyra’s eyes narrow, though she keeps her tone casual. “I’m sure you’ll find some way to amuse yourself, Uncle. But remember, some things are better left untouched.”

He chuckles, as though entertained by her warning. “Advice from you, my dear niece? Now I know things have indeed grown interesting in my absence.”

Rhaenyra meets his gaze evenly, her tone steady. “Consider it less advice, and more… a friendly warning.”

Daemon grins, a flash of teeth that is more wolfish than warm. “Very well. I shall heed it… for now.” He inclines his head, his voice softening, though the glint in his eyes remains. “But rest assured, Rhaenyra—whatever your secrets, they won’t stay hidden forever.”

With that, he turns, striding toward the door with a casual confidence, leaving Rhaenyra alone with her thoughts, the weight of his parting words lingering in the room.

[f14fun]

A Cowgirl's Stars, Stripes, and Speed (!black-!cowgirl-!singer x dr3) (C1)

synopsis: in which case y/n, a bold African American country singer, crosses paths with Daniel, a charming Australian Formula 1 driver, both tipsy and unwound by the night.

prose + smau (20.6K words) ✮ ⋆ ˚｡𖦹 ⋆｡°✩z profile | masterlist ⋆.˚✮🎧✮˚.⋆

author's note: i desperately had to write a daniel ff, because a) the austin grand prix is nearing and b) i'm terribly sad about his sudden departure. daniel, we all love you so much and wish the best for you! remember to #fea (f' 'em all) <3

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Austin, Texas had nothing on me.

The dingy little bar — well, to me it was dingy because it was the family bar — was dimly lit, with neon signs casting a faint, almost ghostly glow across the weathered wooden walls. The low hum of chatter mixed with the clink of glasses, and even though it was nearing midnight, the place had only gotten busier. Crowds swayed to the twang of a fiddle in the background, boots stomping across the sticky floor. Outside, the summer heat still clung to the air, making the inside feel close and hazy, like the walls were holding in the laughter and stories of the night.

I’d played more shows here than I could count, my boots leaving their mark on the same stage where my granddaddy used to strum his guitar. Most nights felt predictable, but this one felt different, like the air was charged with something I couldn’t put my finger on.

I wasn’t much for Formula 1 — Texas rodeos and horse racing were more my speed — but I knew every year when the race came through Austin, our little bar saw a wave of tourists eager for a taste of country. And tonight, as I leaned against the bar nursing my bourbon, the buzz of unfamiliar accents swirled around me, a reminder that the city had filled up with people from all over the world, looking for thrills in the dust and heat of Texas.

"Y/N, baby, why don’t you get up there and play a few songs?" my mom said, wiping her hands on a towel as she leaned over the bar. Her voice was soft, but that familiar nudge was behind it — the kind that never really left room for much argument.

I hesitated, swirling the last bit of bourbon in my glass. “I don’t know, Mama... it’s packed tonight,” I replied, glancing around at the sea of faces — mostly tourists, loud and unfamiliar. “Besides, they’re not here for me. Just here for a taste of Texas, right? A rodeo queen, not a country girl with a guitar.”

Mama raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You’ve got more than a taste of Texas in you. Those folks would be lucky to hear what you can do. You know that.”

I sighed, feeling the weight of her words settle in. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to play — hell, I’d been singing since I could talk and playing guitar since I was old enough to hold one. But growing up Black in a part of Texas where faces like ours weren’t the norm? That always added a little extra pressure.

Even though our family had earned our place here, built up the bar and our name through years of hard work and music passed down through generations, it never really felt like the eyes watching me were just listening to the music. They were measuring us.

But over the years, we’d carved out a space for ourselves. This bar wasn’t just another honky-tonk; it was ours, The Dusty Rose, and people knew us for more than the color of our skin. Mama’s voice, my granddaddy’s songs, and the family’s grit had earned us some respect in this town. Enough that people came back, year after year, to hear us sing, drink our whiskey, and pretend for a while that we were all part of the same big Texas story.

Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that tonight, with so many new faces and voices in the crowd, I wasn’t sure I had the courage to step up. I glanced down at my guitar leaning against the wall, its strings worn and familiar, waiting for me like it always did.

Mama’s voice cut through my thoughts. “Y/N, you’ve got the talent and the heart. Don’t let anyone else tell you different. You’re gonna get up there and remind them why they keep coming back.”

I wanted to believe her, I really did. But I wasn’t sure if tonight was the night to take on the weight of all those eyes.

I took a deep breath, running my fingers along the worn edge of my glass before setting it down with a soft clink. “Alright, Mama,” I said, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “Guess it’s time to remind these folks why The Dusty Rose has lasted this long.”

Mama smiled, that proud, knowing smile she always gave me. I stood up, the familiar click of my cowboy boots echoing on the wooden floor, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat. Without another word, I slung my guitar over my shoulder, the weight of it settling comfortably against my back, like an old friend. The crowd was a blur of faces as I walked toward the stage, my pulse steadying with every step.

As I stepped up, I saw Orville already seated behind his drum kit, twirling a stick between his fingers with that lazy confidence of his. His bright blonde hair stuck out in every direction, his face splashed with freckles that made him look like a mischievous kid, though he was older than me by a good ten years. He looked up, grinning wide. “Well, I’ll be damned, look who’s finally decided to grace us with her presence. You plannin’ on singin’ or just standin’ there lookin’ pretty, Y/N?” he teased, tapping his snare for effect.

“Could do both, Orville,” I shot back, my nerves melting a little under the familiar banter.

To the right of him, Clyde was leaning over the keys, his cowboy hat tipped low over his brow. With a name like Clyde and a deep Southern drawl that stretched out his words for days, he was about as country as they came. He looked up at me with a slow nod. “Ain’t no time like midnight for a little serenadin’, huh?” he drawled, cracking a toothy grin. “Folks gonna think you’re singin’ ‘em to bed.”

Then there was Gus, seated on the stool, strumming a lazy rhythm on the bass. He had a scruffy beard, worn jeans, and the kind of build that said he spent just as much time on a ranch as he did on stage. Gus tilted his head and gave me a half-smile. “Late night’s when the magic happens, darlin’. ‘Sides, these tourists don’t know country music 'til they hear it this time of night.”

I couldn’t help but laugh. The boys had been with me long enough to know my patterns, and teasing me for wanting to sing so late was their way of easing my nerves. We’d known each other since grade school — back when Orville was the kid who drummed on lunch tables, Clyde would belt out country tunes during recess, and Gus would pluck at strings made of rubber bands, pretending he had a bass in his hands. Now that we were twenty-two, somehow, we still hadn’t split up. Through all the ups and downs, we stuck together, always finding our way back to this stage.

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, strumming a few soft chords to tune my guitar, “you all just wait. We’re about to remind this bar why they keep coming back.”

Orville gave his drums a little roll, Clyde’s fingers hovered over the keys, and Gus plucked the bass with a steady beat, all of them waiting on me to start. It was like second nature, this rhythm we shared, a connection built over years of shared songs and late-night jams.

I took one more deep breath, feeling the energy of the room shift toward the stage, my nerves steadying under the soft glow of the spotlight. Time to show them what The Dusty Rose was really about — and remind myself why we never gave up on this.

I stomped my boots on the worn wooden floor, the solid thud cutting through the clamor of the bar. A few heads turned first, followed by more, until the low murmur of voices quieted down after a couple of cheerful whistles and claps from the regulars.

I stepped up to the mic, adjusting the strap of my guitar on my shoulder. “Hey y’all,” I started, my voice carrying over the room. “For those who don’t know me, I’m Y/N. I’m a small singer-songwriter, born and raised right here in Austin.”

Before I could say another word, Gus chuckled from his spot behind me. “Small, my ass. She’s an enigma, and she’s selling herself short, y’all!”

The room rumbled with a few laughs, and I felt the heat rush to my cheeks as I blushed, turning around to swat him gently on the shoulder. “Gus, you’re lucky I don’t throw my boot at you,” I teased, shaking my head before turning back to the crowd.

“Alright, alright, don’t listen to him,” I said with a smile. “I wanted to play a song tonight that’s a little personal. One I wrote not too long ago... when I found my boyfriend — who, funny enough, was also in the band — cheating on me with my best friend, who used to sing backup vocals.”

A few sympathetic murmurs rose from the crowd, and I could see people shift in their seats, intrigued. “Yeah, it was a mess,” I continued, smiling despite the sting of the memory. “Johnny and Carrie — yeah, those are their real names, y’all — are long gone now. They didn’t just break my heart, they broke the band up too.”

I glanced at Orville, Clyde, and Gus, the ones who’d stuck around. We’d been through hell and back, but we never let anyone tear us down. “But we bounced back. And so did I,” I added with a grin. “This song’s about all that, and how you pick yourself up when the people you trust let you down.”

The room was still, eyes fixed on me as I raised my guitar, fingers poised over the strings. “So, here’s one I like to call Blue.” I stomped my boots once more, giving the boys the cue to kick in. The first slow, mournful chords filled the air, and as I started to sing, the bar held its breath, waiting for the heartache in my voice to tell the rest of the story.

I took a deep breath and let the first notes roll off my tongue, the familiar melody filling the room as my fingers danced across the strings.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

My voice lingered in the air, soft yet steady, as the boys followed in perfect harmony. The crowd had settled into the mood, quiet and still, as if they, too, were feeling the heartache threaded through the lyrics.

"Tears fill my eyes 'til I can't see Three o'clock in the mornin' Here am I, sittin' all alone..."

As I poured myself into the song, my gaze drifted across the room, and that’s when I spotted him. A ruggedly handsome man leaning against the far corner of the bar, his stubble-covered jaw catching the dim light just right, giving him an air of mystery. He had a full head of curls peeking out from under a cowboy hat that didn’t quite fit the way a Texan’s would. He might have been trying to blend in, but it was obvious he wasn’t from around here.

The way he carried himself — that casual yet calculated way of sitting, like he was at ease but somehow apart from it all — made me wonder who the hell he was. Something about him tugged at my attention, even as I sang the words that had been pulling at my heart for months.

"Now that it's over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

My fingers faltered for the briefest second, but I recovered quickly, shaking off the distraction and forcing myself back into the song. Whoever he was, I wasn’t about to let some handsome stranger throw me off my game. Not tonight.

I kept going, but the thought of him lingered at the back of my mind, the heat of his presence warming the room just a little more than it had been before.

The gentle rhythm of Gus’s bass hummed through the room, a steady heartbeat that matched the soulful sway of the song. Each note he plucked seemed to cradle the sadness in my voice, grounding it in something deeper, something raw. Clyde’s fingers danced over the keys, soft and mournful, adding a kind of sweetness to the pain, like the last lingering memory of something you loved but had to let go. Orville’s light taps on the drums gave the song its slow, steady pulse, holding everything together in a rhythm that felt like the ticking of time, dragging me back through memories I’d rather forget.

"Blue, oh, so lonesome for you Why can't you be blue over me..."

The melody wrapped itself around the room, and I could feel the audience sinking into the sadness with me, the song casting a spell over the bar. I was in the zone, letting the music take over, but that rugged stranger in the corner was like a stubborn note I couldn’t shake. His presence tugged at me, even with the sweet sorrow of the keys flowing through the air. He wasn’t watching me like the others; he was studying me, eyes dark under the brim of that cowboy hat that didn’t quite belong.

As my voice rose for the next line, I couldn’t help but glance his way again. His stubbled jaw was clenched like he was thinking hard about something, but there was a glint of something else — maybe curiosity — in his eyes. It unnerved me and fascinated me all at once, the way he didn’t quite fit in, even though he was trying to. And those curls, barely contained by the hat, told me he wasn’t used to this kind of scene. Not here, not in Texas. Not in my bar.

"Now that it’s over I realize Those weak words you whispered Were nothing but lies..."

The bass thudded low, pulling me back into the music. Gus knew just when to make it heavy, the vibrations running through my chest like the ache of an old wound. The keys lifted the sorrow just enough to make it bearable, Clyde’s touch delicate but deliberate. Together, we made the heartache sound beautiful.

But no matter how much I tried to drown myself in the song, I kept catching glimpses of him. The stranger, leaning back casually, his body language saying he was here for the ride, but his eyes telling me there was more to him than that easy posture.

The lyrics fell from my lips, but my mind kept wandering to the question burning in the back of my head: Who was he?

As the final chords of the song rang out, the bar was quiet for a moment, letting the last notes settle before a soft wave of applause rippled through the crowd. I smiled, feeling a strange mix of relief and adrenaline, my heart still thudding in my chest. The boys gave me a few approving nods — Clyde even tipped his hat — and I turned back to the mic, clearing my throat.

“Well, uh, that was a little somethin’ I wrote not too long ago,” I said, feeling the warmth of the stage lights on my face. “If y’all liked it — or if you’re just in the mood to be sad for a bit — it’s out on Spotify, Apple Music, SoundCloud, or whatever platform folks are using these days,” I added with a grin. “I promise, I’ve got some happier stuff too. Probably should’ve started the night off with one of those, huh?”

A few chuckles broke out from the crowd, but one laugh stood out — low and warm, rolling through the room like a wave that hit me square in the chest. It wasn’t like the others. It had weight, something that settled in my stomach and made it twist in a way I wasn’t used to. Almost instinctively, I looked toward the sound, and there he was — the stranger in the corner. His cowboy hat was still tipped low, hiding just enough of his face to make him even more intriguing, but it was the way his eyes locked on mine that made me freeze.

His grin was lazy, like he had all the time in the world, and there was something about the ease of it that made my heart skip a beat. In the soft glow of the bar, it felt like the entire place faded into the background. For a split second, there was nothing but me and him, his gaze holding mine with an intensity I hadn’t expected. It wasn’t just that he was watching me; it was like he saw me, past the stage, past the song, and right into that vulnerable place I tried so hard to guard.

And then, just like that, I became a complete mess. Heat rushed to my face, my skin prickling under the spotlight, and I felt my grip on my guitar falter. “Uh, yeah… so, anyway... that’s me,” I stammered, my voice coming out shaky, the words tumbling over each other as I tried to make a coherent sentence. I could feel the blush creeping up my neck, no matter how hard I willed it to stop, and I quickly looked away, trying to regain some semblance of composure.

But it was too late. The boys behind me noticed — of course they did. I could practically feel Gus grinning at my awkwardness, and Clyde was trying to suppress a chuckle. Orville tapped out a light rhythm on the edge of his drum, clearly enjoying my flustered state. I fumbled with the strap of my guitar, my hands suddenly too shaky to be of any use, my mind still stuck on the way that stranger had looked at me.

I’d performed hundreds of times, faced crowds far bigger than this one, but something about that single moment — that one look from him — had knocked me off balance. My pulse was still racing, and the heat in my cheeks refused to fade. He was just a man, I reminded myself, a guy sitting in the corner of a bar. But it didn’t feel that simple. It felt like he’d peeled back a layer of me in that one glance, leaving me bare under his eyes.

And as I fumbled my way off the stage, trying to get my act together, one thought kept running through my mind: Who the hell is this guy, and why is he making me feel like this?

I cleared my throat and leaned back into the mic with a grin, letting go of the last song’s weight. “Alright, y’all,” I started, flashing a playful smile, “that last one was for all the folks who like to sit and think about their exes at 2 AM — you know who you are,” I added, getting a few chuckles from the crowd.

“But this next one? It’s a little different. We’re gonna turn things up a notch. It’s got a bit of rock in it, so feel free to sing, cry, scream, yell—whatever your heart needs. And if you wanna dance, well, don’t hold back. Just don’t blame me if you’re out of breath by the end!”

The crowd laughed, and I winked. “This one’s called Indifferent, but don’t let the name fool you—it’s anything but.”

I strummed the first few chords, letting the energy shift in the room, and the boys picked up right behind me, Orville giving the drums a little more punch, Clyde leaning into the keys with a rock edge, and Gus keeping the rhythm solid with his bass. I was about to really get into the groove when, out of the corner of my eye, I saw him.

The stranger — cowboy hat and all — stood up from his seat, shaking his curls free as he made his way toward a group of people who had started to sway with the beat. And then he started dancing. And I mean really dancing, not just swaying but full-on, carefree moves, like he didn’t give a damn who was watching.

I couldn’t help it — a laugh bubbled up from my chest, and I almost missed a chord as I watched him. He was good, I had to give him that, but there was something about the way he moved that told me he was trying to get my attention. The way he’d glance over every so often, like he wanted to see if I was watching — and yeah, I was watching.

The more he danced, the more I giggled, barely keeping my voice steady as I kept singing. His cowboy hat bobbed up and down as he spun around, clapping along with the beat, and I could tell he was putting on a show, just for me. My eyes met his again, and he shot me a grin, all cocky and playful, making my heart skip a beat.

I shook my head, trying to focus on the song, but the sight of him — carefree, handsome, and definitely showing off — made it hard to keep my cool. My voice caught just a little as I sang the next line, and I could feel my face heating up again, but this time, I was more amused than flustered.

Oh, he’s trying to impress me, I thought with a smirk. And I couldn’t lie, it was kinda working.

I leaned into the mic, my voice steady as I sang the next line, feeling the shift in energy from the crowd.

"I see your truck and I don't give a—"

Before I could even finish, the crowd roared in unison, screaming out the word I didn’t have to sing. “FUCK!” Their voices echoed off the walls, a mix of laughter and rebellion, and I grinned wide.

But the loudest voice? That came from him.

“FUCK!” he yelled, right along with the crowd, his grin even wider now as he danced like no one was watching — except everyone was. His cowboy hat tipped back as he threw his arms up, and I swear, he looked like he was having the time of his life.

I couldn’t help it — I laughed, nearly missing the next line as I watched him throw himself into the moment. My cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so hard, but I kept going, feeding off the energy around me.

"And it don't make my heart skip a beat," I sang, almost giggling through the words, but his eyes were on me again, catching mine as he clapped along with the beat. His dancing had turned into full-on jumping now, and I could see a few others joining in, all feeding off his wild, carefree energy. He was having a blast, and even though I was up on stage, I felt like I was right there with him, swept up in the fun.

I saw him glance at me again, this time with a playful wink, like he knew exactly what he was doing. My heart did that weird little flip again, and I almost tripped over the next verse, the heat creeping up my face once more.

He’s definitely showing off now, I thought, trying to keep my focus on the music. But I couldn’t stop the giggle that escaped as I strummed through the chorus. His dance moves might’ve been reckless, but they were working. The crowd was loving him, and so, apparently, was I.

I sang the next line, my voice steady but my heart racing a little faster as his grin widened, his eyes locked on mine. I wasn’t sure what got into me, maybe it was the way he looked so carefree, so unbothered by the world around him, or maybe it was just the thrill of the moment — but before I could stop myself, I tilted my head toward the stage, beckoning him with a playful nod.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised, but that grin of his never wavered. The crowd cheered him on as he took a few exaggerated, swaggering steps toward the stage, his cowboy hat tipped back and curls bouncing with every step. I laughed, my own confidence rising, and held out my hand as he made his way up.

He took it, and in an instant, we were standing side by side, the crowd going wild as we started to sway together in time with the music. His hand found its way to the small of my back, and I could feel the warmth of it even through my shirt.

The moment felt... electric.

We kept swaying, his towering frame almost comical next to mine, but somehow it worked. His eyes never left mine, and for a split second, it felt like we were the only two people in the room. The music kept going, but everything else seemed to blur into the background. I could see the playful glint in his eyes, the way he seemed to be daring me to look away — but I didn’t.

He leaned down just a bit, close enough that I could feel the warmth of his breath as he spoke, his voice low and teasing. “Not bad for a country girl,” he said with a wink.

I giggled, blushing like a schoolgirl as I tried to keep my cool. “Not bad for a guy who’s clearly not from around here,” I shot back, but my voice wavered just a little, betraying how much his presence was throwing me off.

We kept swaying, our bodies moving in perfect rhythm, the lights catching the gleam in his eyes as we held each other's gaze. He towered over me, but I didn’t feel small — not with him, not in this moment. It felt like the rest of the world had faded away, and all that was left was the two of us, swaying together under the soft glow of the stage lights.

I took a deep breath, trying to refocus as the music carried me back into the song, but it wasn’t easy. His presence behind me was impossible to ignore, like he was right there, even though we weren’t touching anymore. My skin tingled with awareness, and I could feel the heat rising to my neck, warming me from the inside out. We were both tipsy, the drinks and the night making everything feel a little looser, a little more charged. But the way he was standing so close—his warmth practically wrapping around me—made it harder to concentrate.

"I'm indifferent, I'm just livin' When your mama calls, I'm reminded you exist And I wish that she didn't 'Cause all my 'give-a-damns', they've already been given..."

My voice stayed steady, but I could feel my heart thudding faster with every word. The crowd was clapping along, some of them singing the lyrics back to me, but all I could think about was him. I knew he was still behind me, standing tall, his presence so strong I could almost feel it on my skin.

As I sang, my breath caught just a little when I felt him shift closer, the slightest brush of his arm near my shoulder. It was nothing, really, just a subtle movement, but it sent a rush of heat up the back of my neck, making my pulse race. My voice wavered for just a second, and I bit my lip, hoping no one noticed how distracted I was.

But I knew he did. I could feel his gaze on me, even though I couldn’t see him.

I played a few more songs, each one building on the last, the energy in the room rising with every note. The crowd was alive now, swaying, clapping, and singing along. I felt a rush of adrenaline pumping through me, the nerves from earlier completely gone, replaced by this wild confidence I hadn’t felt in a long time. The music was in my veins, lifting me up, and for the first time all night, I felt completely at ease on stage.

But even with the thrill of the crowd, my thoughts kept drifting back to him. I could feel his presence in the room, like a constant hum just below the surface, and every time I caught a glimpse of his curls or that easy grin from across the bar, my pulse quickened.

As the final chord of my last song rang out, I stepped away from the mic, feeling a surge of applause wash over me. I grinned, tipping my hat to the crowd, but my eyes were searching for him. And then, there he was, standing near the bar, his gaze locked on mine. The cheers of the crowd faded into the background, everything else becoming a blur as I zeroed in on him.

Before I could even believe it, my feet started moving. It was like my body had a mind of its own, dragging me toward him before my brain could even catch up. Each step felt like I was crossing some invisible line, the adrenaline still coursing through me, making me feel bold, invincible.

I wasn’t thinking about anything else but the way his eyes held mine, steady and sure, as I made my way across the room. It was like gravity was pulling me toward him, and I wasn’t about to fight it. Before I knew it, I was standing right in front of him, close enough to catch the faint scent of cologne and the hint of whiskey on his breath.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I could feel the heat rising to my face again, but I wasn’t about to turn back. Not now. He gave me that same lazy grin, tipping his hat just slightly as his eyes twinkled with amusement, like he knew exactly what I was feeling.

I opened my mouth to say something — anything — but the words got stuck somewhere between my head and my heart. All I knew was that I wasn’t leaving this bar without knowing who the hell this guy was.

He looked down at me, that lazy grin spreading wider as he tipped his hat back just a bit, giving me a full view of those mischievous eyes. “Well, if I knew your singing was that good, I would’ve pretended to break my heart a long time ago,” he said, his voice low and teasing, with just a hint of an accent that wasn’t from around here.

I blinked, caught completely off guard, and then burst into a laugh I hadn’t expected. “You’re gonna have to try a lot harder than that to get a song out of me,” I shot back, still feeling the heat in my cheeks but trying to keep my cool.

He chuckled, leaning in just a little, close enough that I could feel the warmth coming off him. “Lucky for you, I’m not lookin’ to break any hearts tonight — just thought I’d make an impression.”

My heart skipped a beat as our eyes met again, and before I could help it, I smiled. “I’d say you’re doing a pretty good job of that,” I muttered, trying not to trip over my own words.

He straightened up, giving me a playful wink. “Well, I aim to please, darlin’.”

I raised an eyebrow, feeling bolder than I had all night, and shot him a smirk. “You look like you love me,” I teased, the words slipping out with more confidence than I thought I had. The line from that song was on the tip of my tongue, and it felt just right for the moment.

His grin widened, and for a split second, he looked like I’d caught him off guard. But then he leaned in just a little, his voice low and smooth. “Well, maybe I do,” he said, the teasing tone still there but with just enough seriousness to make my heart skip.

I swallowed hard, my pulse racing as I met his gaze, my smirk fading into something softer. “Careful,” I replied, my voice quieter now, “you don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.”

He chuckled, that lazy grin still in place. “Maybe I like the sound of that.”

I tilted my head, narrowing my eyes at him with a playful smirk. “I saw you lookin’ me up and down from across the room,” I teased, raising an eyebrow. “You weren’t exactly being subtle.”

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling as he leaned a little closer, clearly enjoying the banter. “Subtle’s never been my strong suit,” he shot back, his voice low and smooth. “But hey, can you blame me? You were up there making it pretty hard not to look.”

I bit my lip, fighting back a laugh as I shook my head. “You got a lot of nerve saying that out loud, you know.”

He shrugged, the grin never leaving his face. “Just calling it like I see it. You’re the one who beckoned me up here, remember?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my composure, but I could feel the heat in my cheeks again. “Yeah, well, I guess I’m not subtle either.”

He tilted his head, giving me that same cocky grin. “No complaints here, darlin’.”

I laughed, shaking my head at his audacity. “Alright, mystery man, you’ve been charming me for the last few minutes, but you haven’t even told me your name yet.”

He leaned back slightly, tipping his hat with a playful glint in his eyes. “Name’s Daniel,” he said, his accent wrapping around the words just right. “And you, miss, have definitely made this night a lot more interesting.”

“Well, Daniel,” I replied, giving him a once-over just like he had done to me earlier, “I think the feeling’s mutual.”

I raised an eyebrow, still grinning as I asked, “So, where’s that accent of yours from? I know it ain’t local.”

He chuckled, the sound low and warm, before answering, “Perth. Australia.”

I blinked, genuinely surprised. “Australia, huh? Never been there before.” I paused, letting the words hang in the air for a moment. “Heard it’s nice, though. Beaches and all that.”

Daniel nodded, his grin widening a bit. “Yeah, we’ve got the beaches. But it’s more than just that. You should visit sometime, I’d make a pretty good tour guide.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “Oh, I bet you would,” I said, trying to imagine what it would be like to visit a place so far from Texas. “Sounds like a whole world away from here.”

“It is,” he admitted, his eyes locking on mine again. “But I reckon you’d fit in just fine.”

I tilted my head, feeling a smirk pull at the corner of my lips. “Oh, you think so? I’m not exactly the ‘surf and sand’ kind of girl. I’m more boots and dirt roads.”

Daniel chuckled, his gaze still holding mine, like he was seeing straight through the sass and into something deeper. “I dunno, I think you could rock the Aussie lifestyle. Maybe even swap those boots for some thongs,” he teased, leaning in just enough to close the space between us a little more.

I blinked, the word catching me off guard, and then burst into laughter. “What the fuck are thongs?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. “You Aussies have some weird ideas about footwear.”

Daniel paused for a second, then laughed, realizing his mistake. “Oh, right... over here, thongs are something else entirely,” he said, his grin turning a little mischievous. “In Australia, they’re just flip-flops. But I like where your mind went.”

I felt my face flush, a mix of the whiskey and the sudden innuendo hitting me all at once. “Well, maybe you should clarify next time,” I shot back, trying to sound confident despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “I was starting to think you had some very bold ideas for this first conversation.”

He smirked, leaning in just a little closer. “Trust me, if I wanted to make a bold suggestion, I wouldn’t be talking about footwear.” His voice dropped low, teasing, as he let the words hang between us.

My heart skipped a beat, and I fought the urge to stammer. “Well, good to know,” I managed to reply, my voice quieter now, my gaze locked on his. “But for the record, boots are staying. Thongs or no thongs.”

He chuckled, the laughter low and warm, and I could feel the space between us shrink even more. “Noted,” he said, his eyes twinkling with that same playful spark. “But if you ever change your mind, I’ll be here to help you pick the right pair.”

I smirked, shaking my head, but before I could respond, he tilted his head, still grinning like he had a whole world of charm left to unleash.

“Well, if I can make it out here to a bar in Texas, maybe one day you could try Australia. I’d personally make sure it’s worth your while.”

I raised an eyebrow, amused by his confidence. “Big promises, Daniel from Perth. You must think pretty highly of your tour guide skills.”

He shrugged, a playful glint still in his eyes. “Just sayin’, you might find there’s more to life than boots and honky-tonks. Besides,” he added, his voice lowering slightly, “I’d make sure you’d never forget it.”

My heart skipped a beat, his words sending a rush of warmth through me. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but I wasn’t about to back down. “Careful now,” I replied, my voice soft but steady, “I’m not so easily impressed.”

Daniel grinned, tipping his hat slightly as he leaned back. “Well, I guess I’ll just have to work a little harder then, won’t I?”

I grinned at him, crossing my arms as I leaned against the bar. “You’ve got a lot of confidence, Daniel from Perth. But I’ve been around enough smooth talkers to know when someone’s bluffing.”

He raised an eyebrow, leaning in just enough to keep the playful tension in the air. “Bluffing? I don’t bluff. Just telling it like it is.” He motioned to the bartender. “Let me prove it to you. First round’s on me.”

I laughed, shaking my head but not protesting as the bartender slid two drinks our way. “Fine, I’ll bite,” I said, taking the glass. “But I’ll have you know, Texans can hold their liquor, and I’m not easy to out-drink.”

Daniel’s grin only widened. “Oh, I’ve got my work cut out for me, then. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

We clinked our glasses together, and before I knew it, the drinks were flowing just as easily as the conversation. Time seemed to blur, the crowd around us fading into the background as we swapped stories and traded teasing remarks. My guitar, once my only focus of the night, now sat forgotten against a pole near the bar, its case propped up and covered with old stickers and layers of chipped paint from the years of wear. But I didn’t care.

“Okay, I have to ask,” I said, my words slightly slurred from the whiskey but still full of curiosity. “How does a guy from Australia end up here, of all places? Texas isn’t exactly next door.”

He took a long sip of his drink, his eyes never leaving mine. “Racing,” he replied simply, setting his glass down with a soft clink. “I travel a lot for it. Came for the Austin Grand Prix. Thought I’d stop by a local bar, get a feel for the place. Lucky me, huh?”

I felt the warmth from the drinks spreading through me, loosening me up even more. “Racing, huh? So, what, you’re like a big-time driver?” I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Something like that. But tonight, I’m just a guy trying to keep up with a Texas girl who’s got a pretty good whiskey tolerance.”

I grinned, feeling the heat in my cheeks and not just from the alcohol. “Well, you’re doing alright so far. But don’t think a few drinks and a smile are gonna get you off the hook that easy.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” Daniel said, his voice low and smooth, sending a shiver down my spine. His eyes held mine for a moment longer than I expected, and I could feel my heart race a little faster.

We laughed together, leaning in closer, drinks in hand, the weight of the night slipping away. The bar around us blurred into the background, as if it didn’t matter anymore — just the two of us, the warmth of his touch, the easy rhythm of our conversation, as natural as the music I’d been playing hours ago. Our hands brushed more often, his arm finding its way around my shoulder, his fingers trailing down my back in moments that felt casual but were charged with something more.

Before I knew it, we were touching more than talking — my hand resting on his arm, his thumb grazing the small of my back. The buzz of the alcohol had me feeling light, and every time his fingertips lingered a little longer, a blush crept up my neck. I could feel the heat of his breath as he leaned closer to whisper something that had us both giggling again.

The next thing I knew, we were stumbling out of the bar, calling an Uber, the cool night air doing nothing to shake the warmth between us. The ride was a blur of drunken laughter, our legs pressing against each other as his arm wrapped snugly around my waist. The city lights flew by in a haze, but all I could focus on was the way his touch made my heart race. His grip on me tightened, pulling me closer, and I was too drunk and too tipsy to even pretend not to blush.

Then, suddenly, we were back at his hotel room. The door clicked shut behind us, and we both broke into a fit of giggles, stumbling inside like we were sneaking in after curfew. His arm never left my waist, and I couldn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach as he pulled me against him, the warmth of his body sending a shiver down my spine.

“Shhh,” I whispered between giggles, trying to stifle the sound, but it was impossible when he looked at me with that boyish grin, like he was having the time of his life.

“Quiet was never my strong suit,” he whispered back, his lips brushing against my ear as he spoke, sending another wave of heat through me. I blushed even harder, barely able to keep my composure as he pressed his forehead against mine, his hand resting on my hip like he never wanted to let go.

I could feel my heart pounding in my chest, every inch of me aware of his body so close, his touch gentle but firm, like he was holding back just enough. His breath was warm against my skin, his fingers tracing lazy patterns along my side, and the more he touched me, the more I felt my resolve slipping.

I let out a soft, nervous laugh, trying to shake off the tension building between us, but it only made him grin wider. “You’re really bad at this whole ‘quiet’ thing,” I teased, my voice barely above a whisper as my hand slid up to rest against his chest. I could feel the steady thrum of his heartbeat under my palm, and the closeness of it all made my own pulse race.

He chuckled softly, his hand tightening just slightly on my hip. “Yeah, well, it’s hard to stay quiet when I’m this close to you,” he murmured, his voice low and full of something deeper than just the alcohol. His eyes locked onto mine, and for a moment, everything else fell away. It was just us, standing there, barely holding it together in the haze of the night.

Before I could think about it, I found myself leaning in, my breath catching as his lips brushed against mine, soft and teasing. It wasn’t a full kiss — just the faintest touch — but it sent a jolt through me that made my knees weak. I blushed again, harder this time, but I didn’t pull away. Neither did he.

Instead, he smiled against my lips, his hand sliding up from my hip to gently cup my face, his thumb brushing across my cheek. “You’re blushing again,” he whispered, and I could hear the teasing note in his voice.

“Shut up,” I mumbled, but there was no hiding the heat in my cheeks or the way I was leaning into him, my body betraying how much I wanted to be close.

We started kissing, and the night blurred together, in a mess of liquor, sticky kisses, and well what do you know, my guitar lay upright against a chair, watching the entire thing.

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I didn’t know where the fuck I was.

I blinked, staring up at a ceiling that definitely wasn’t mine, with sheets that smelled way too expensive for my budget. My head was pounding like I’d been hit by a freight train, and as I tried to roll over, something — no, someone — stopped me.

That’s when I felt it.

An arm. A very muscular arm. Draped over me like we were starring in a rom-com, except I definitely didn’t remember signing up for this role.

I squinted around the room, trying to piece together the disaster that was my life. My shirt was flung haphazardly across a chair, my boots were tipped over near the door, and... was that his cowboy hat sitting on the dresser? Oh god.

Oh god, no.

And then it all came rushing back — the whiskey, the dancing, the flirting, the thongs conversation. And then, as if on cue, the faint sound of an alarm started buzzing on his phone, because apparently this guy sets alarms like a responsible adult after a night of drunken debauchery.

“Well, shit,” I muttered under my breath.

I lay there, trying to pretend I was still asleep, or dead, or invisible—any of which would be preferable to dealing with the fact that I had absolutely no idea what to do next. Daniel’s arm was still heavy around my waist, his slow, steady breathing telling me he hadn’t woken up yet.

Okay, Y/N, just stay calm. Maybe he won’t even remember… Or maybe you can just ninja your way out of this without waking him up.

I carefully, carefully shifted my leg, inching toward freedom, but the moment I tried to move, Daniel stirred. His arm tightened around me slightly, and I froze, heart pounding in my chest like it was trying to break free and escape the situation without me.

Please don’t wake up. Please just keep dreaming about kangaroos or whatever it is Australians dream about...

But then I felt him shift again. This time, he let out a low, sleepy groan. Oh god. He was waking up. I could feel the warmth of his breath against the back of my neck, and my entire body went stiff, like maybe if I played dead, he’d just go back to sleep.

But nope.

I heard him take a deep breath, and then his groggy voice cut through the awkward silence. “Morning, darlin’.”

Shit.

His voice was raspy, deep, and far too casual for someone who had a front-row seat to my current state of oh-my-god-what-have-I-done. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing the ground to just swallow me whole, but apparently, the universe didn’t grant those kinds of wishes.

I cleared my throat, still trying to stay as still as possible, like maybe if I didn’t move or respond, this entire moment would cease to exist. “Uh… morning,” I finally muttered, my voice betraying me with a nervous crack.

I could feel him shift behind me, and then — to my absolute horror — he pulled me in closer, his arm still firmly wrapped around my waist. Great. Now I’m spooning a guy I barely know, and I don’t even have a shirt on. What a stellar life choice, Y/N.

“So… how’re you feelin’?” he asked, his voice low and way too smooth for a guy who probably didn’t have a hangover.

How am I feeling? Like I’ve just woken up in a rom-com, except the comedy is my life falling apart, I thought, but instead, I just blurted, “Fine. Totally fine.”

My face was heating up again. I was like a human tomato at this point. I could feel him smiling behind me, like he was enjoying the fact that I was internally combusting.

“You don’t sound fine,” he teased, his voice dipping into that playful tone that I was beginning to realize was very dangerous for me.

I finally turned my head just enough to catch a glimpse of him out of the corner of my eye. He had that messy bedhead look going on — the kind that shouldn’t be attractive but somehow was, and that damn lazy grin hadn’t left his face.

“Listen,” I said, trying to inject some semblance of control into my voice, “we’re just gonna pretend like none of this happened, okay?”

He chuckled, the sound low and rumbling, sending a shiver down my spine. “You mean the part where you dragged me back to my room, or the part where you kept giggling every time I tried to be quiet?”

My eyes widened. “I did not drag you back here!”

“Yeah, I think the Uber driver might disagree with that,” he replied, his grin widening.

I groaned, pulling the blanket over my head. “I cannot believe this is happening.”

“You and me both, darlin’,” he said, chuckling again as he gave my waist a playful squeeze. “But I gotta say, I’m not exactly complaining’.”

I let out a nervous laugh from under the blanket, but inside, I was mortified. I wasn’t the type to have one-night stands—like, ever. The last time I had one was three years ago, before Johnny and I started dating. And even then, I’d sworn it off because of how awkward and weird the whole thing felt afterward.

And the last time I’d had sex? Six months ago. Six. I wasn’t even sure how I managed last night, let alone with someone as confident and charming as Daniel. I didn’t do this. I wasn’t that girl who woke up in a stranger’s bed with her shirt somewhere across the room and no memory of how she got there.

I peeked out from under the blanket, feeling my face burning hotter by the second. “I just… I don’t do this. Like, ever.”

Daniel propped himself up on one elbow, still grinning like this was the most entertaining morning he’d had in a while. “Really?” he asked, raising an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me. You seemed like a pro last night.”

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh my god, don’t say that,” I groaned, burying my face back into the pillow. “This is so embarrassing.”

He laughed, his voice softening just a little. “Hey, no need to be embarrassed. We were both tipsy, had a good time, and now we’re just... waking up. Happens to the best of us.”

I peeked out from the pillow again, trying to gauge if he was just messing with me or being sincere. But the easygoing look on his face hadn’t changed. He didn’t seem fazed at all, while I was over here spiraling.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm the chaotic thoughts running through my head. Okay, maybe I could play it cool too—pretend like I wasn’t freaking out. But as I shifted under the blanket, trying to figure out how to extract myself from this mess, I felt a sudden, horrifying realization.

No bra.

I stiffened, my eyes darting around the room, desperately trying to remember where the hell it went. My shirt was across the room, but no sign of the bra. Oh god.

I glanced at Daniel, who was watching me with that amused grin still plastered on his face. He noticed the moment I realized it—of course he did. His grin widened, and before I could even attempt to form a coherent excuse, he raised an eyebrow and deadpanned, “Looking for something, darlin’? Because I’m not sure it’s gonna walk back over here on its own.”

My face turned beet red. “I—uh—this is just…” I stammered, covering myself with the blanket more securely, like that would magically undo everything.

He let out a chuckle, clearly enjoying every second of my mortification. “Don’t worry, your shirt’s over there, and I think your bra… well, it might’ve decided to take an extended vacation,” he teased, pointing toward the floor, where it lay crumpled in the corner like some sort of defeated symbol of my night.

I buried my face in my hands, laughing despite myself. “This is so not how I thought my night would end,” I mumbled through my fingers.

Daniel leaned in, still grinning like the cat who got the cream. “If it helps, I think you handled yourself pretty damn well for someone who doesn’t ‘do this,’” he teased, his voice full of playful charm.

I groaned, unable to stop the embarrassed laughter bubbling out of me. “Oh my god, stop,” I muttered, half laughing, half dying inside. But there was something about his laid-back attitude, the way he wasn’t making this feel weird or awkward, that made me feel just a little better.

At least one of us was good at handling this kind of thing.

I couldn’t stop laughing now, even though every cell in my body wanted to melt into the mattress and disappear. But Daniel wasn’t letting up, his teasing coming in waves.

“You know,” he said with a grin, “I’ve heard of people losing their dignity after a night like this, but you managed to misplace your bra too. That’s impressive.”

I rolled my eyes, still hiding my face in my hands. “Oh, ha ha, very funny. Maybe I’ll just stay under this blanket forever.”

He chuckled again, sitting up slightly and stretching, looking way too comfortable considering the situation. “Can’t say I blame you. This bed is pretty damn nice. But I’m starting to think you’re just stalling because you don’t want to leave me.”

I shot him a glare, trying to smother the blush on my cheeks. “I’m not stalling. I’m just… regrouping.”

“Right,” he nodded sagely. “Regrouping. Take all the time you need, darlin’. I’ll just be over here, admiring your tactical approach to gathering your scattered clothing.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, finally throwing the blanket off and clumsily scrambling out of bed. My hair was a mess, and I was pretty sure I looked like I’d just survived a tornado, but I was determined to reclaim some shred of dignity. As I stumbled over to where my shirt lay crumpled across the chair, Daniel’s voice piped up again.

“Wow,” he said, a little quieter this time, and I turned to see him watching me with an entirely different look—more serious, though still with that glimmer of amusement in his eyes. “I gotta say, you’re even more beautiful in the morning.”

I paused, my hand halfway to my shirt, and felt my heart do a little flip. “Really?” I asked, trying not to sound too flustered as I glanced at him.

He nodded, that easy smile still on his face but softer now. “Yeah. Really.”

I stared at him for a second, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks again but in a different way this time. There was something about the way he said it, so casual and genuine, that made me stop caring so much about the ridiculousness of the situation.

“Well,” I said, finally grabbing my shirt and pulling it over my head, “you’re not too bad yourself… for someone who’s spent the night making terrible jokes at my expense.”

Daniel laughed, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. “I can’t help it. You make it way too easy.”

I shook my head, still smiling, as I gathered the rest of my things. “Yeah, yeah. Keep talking. I’ll be sure to remember all of this next time I decide to ‘misplace’ my bra.”

Daniel grinned, watching as I gathered up the last of my things, still laughing at the absurdity of it all. “Well, if you ever need help finding it again,” he said smoothly, leaning back on his elbows and looking up at me with that lazy smile, “you might wanna give me a way to contact you.”

I paused, looking over at him, raising an eyebrow. “Oh, you think you’re slick, huh?”

He shrugged, giving me an innocent look that was anything but. “Just thinking ahead. In case you lose any more important items in the future… like your phone, your hat—hell, your sense of direction, since you clearly needed help last night.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “You really think I’m gonna fall for that?”

He tilted his head, flashing a charming grin. “Darlin’, you already fell for it.”

I let out an exasperated sigh, but there was no denying the grin on my face as I grabbed his phone from the nightstand. “Fine, I’ll put my number in your phone. But if I get any messages about lost bras, I’m blocking you,” I teased, typing my number into his contacts and tossing the phone back to him.

He caught it effortlessly, grinning as he glanced down at the screen. “Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, winking. “Unless you’re the one sending me a distress call next time.”

I shook my head, smirking as I turned toward the door. “You wish.”

“Already do,” he called out behind me, his voice playful and teasing, but with just enough sincerity to make my heart skip a beat as I left the room.

As soon as I stepped out of the room and into the hallway, I let out a long breath I didn’t even realize I’d been holding. Relief washed over me, but so did the heat rising up my neck and into my cheeks. Holy hell, I actually survived that.

I stood there for a moment, my heart still racing from the whirlwind of the morning. Daniel’s playful smirk, his damn smooth lines—it was all still buzzing in my head, and the fact that I’d somehow managed to walk away with my dignity (mostly) intact felt like a miracle.

But then I caught sight of myself in the mirror at the end of the hallway. Oh no.

I was a mess. My hair looked like it had been through a windstorm, and my shirt from last night was wrinkled beyond repair. The smudged mascara under my eyes was giving me a whole new level of “walk of shame,” and I couldn’t help but cringe at my reflection.

This is what I left the room looking like? Oh, great.

I quickly ran my fingers through my hair, trying to smooth out the wild tangles and make myself look at least halfway decent. I tugged at the hem of my shirt, trying to straighten it out, but no matter what I did, it still screamed “last night’s mistakes.” I wiped away the smudged mascara with the edge of my sleeve, doing my best to clean up the damage.

My cheeks were still flushed from the sheer embarrassment of it all, and no amount of quick fixes was going to change the fact that I had just walked out of a guy’s hotel room looking like a hot mess. I bit my lip, shaking my head at myself in the mirror, my heart still pounding in my chest.

“Well, this is a look,” I muttered to myself, giving my reflection one last, exasperated glance before squaring my shoulders and heading for the elevator. Just get out of here, Y/N. Fast.

I smoothed my hair down one last time, took a deep breath, and headed toward the elevator, praying no one else in the hallway had witnessed my tragic attempt at post-hookup self-repair. The faster I got out of this hotel, the better. I was already pressing the elevator button repeatedly like I could summon it faster through sheer desperation.

Come on, come on…

Finally, the doors slid open, and I practically leaped inside. But the universe had other plans for me, because standing right there, already in the elevator, were Carrie and Johnny.

My heart stopped. I almost crapped my panties.

Carrie, my ex-best friend. Johnny, my ex-boyfriend. Of course they were here. Of all the elevators in this damn hotel. My stomach dropped as the realization hit me like a freight train, and suddenly I was right back in the middle of the heartbreak they’d both caused, except this time I looked like I’d just rolled out of a frat party.

I stared at them, my mind racing, wondering if I could somehow reverse time and avoid stepping into this death trap. But it was too late. I was standing there, and they were looking at me. Johnny’s eyes flicked up and down, taking in my rumpled clothes and messy hair. Carrie’s smile faltered, and her eyes widened, like she was realizing exactly what kind of morning I was having.

Fantastic. Just fantastic.

“Y/N?” Carrie’s voice was soft but laced with that familiar fake concern. “Wow, it’s been a while.”

Johnny just stood there, staring, that stupid, unreadable look on his face. He didn’t say anything, but the awkward silence hung in the air like a thick cloud.

I forced a tight smile, trying not to visibly cringe. “Yeah, well... things have been... busy.”

The elevator doors closed with a quiet thud, sealing me in with them. It was, without a doubt, the longest elevator ride of my life. I could feel Johnny’s eyes on me, that same calculating gaze that used to make me second-guess everything I said. And Carrie? She had that look on her face—the one that said she was definitely going to gossip about this later.

I stared straight ahead, willing the elevator to move faster, trying to breathe through the tension. Every second felt like an eternity, the silence only broken by the soft hum of the elevator as it slowly, agonizingly descended.

My mind raced. Of all the mornings to run into them, this had to be the one where I was dressed in last night’s wrinkled shirt, and my hair looked like it had gone to war with a curling iron. The fact that I’d just come from Daniel’s hotel room made it worse. Much worse.

I could feel the heat creeping up my neck again, but this time, it wasn’t from embarrassment over Daniel. It was from pure mortification.

Finally—finally—the elevator dinged, and the doors slid open to the lobby. I didn’t waste a second. “Well, this has been… fun,” I said, voice tight, and bolted out of the elevator like my life depended on it.

Behind me, I could feel their eyes still on me, and I could practically hear Carrie’s voice in my head already: Did you see Y/N this morning?

Kill me now.

As soon as I stepped out of the elevator and into the hotel lobby, the reality of the situation hit me like a ton of bricks. I stopped dead in my tracks, my heart dropping into my stomach. Oh no. No, no, no.

This wasn’t just any hotel.

This was Carrie’s hotel. Her family’s pride and joy. The one I had spent countless summer nights in when we were best friends, long before everything fell apart. Out of all the hotels in Austin, Daniel had to be staying at the one owned by Carrie’s family.

I groaned internally, my mind reeling. Of course, this was how my morning would go. The universe just loved to test me, apparently. I could already imagine Carrie’s smug little face, probably telling her family all about how I’d been seen leaving some guy’s room at her family’s hotel, looking like a mess. And Johnny—ugh, Johnny—had been right there to see it all, too. The two of them were probably plotting how to make this even more humiliating for me.

I felt my cheeks burn again, but this time it wasn’t from embarrassment. It was from sheer frustration. Out of all the places Daniel could have stayed, this had to be the one. What were the odds?

I shook my head, trying to compose myself, but the realization only made me want to crawl under a rock even more. Not only did I have the most awkward elevator ride in history with my cheating ex and ex-best friend, but now I was in their territory. This was their turf, and I just walked straight into it with no idea.

This day just keeps getting better and better, I thought bitterly, glancing around to make sure neither of them had followed me out of the elevator.

I glanced back at the lobby, memories flooding back from when Carrie and I used to run around this very place, pretending we were in some grand adventure. Funny how things had changed. So much for avoiding drama.

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yourusername

liked by user1, user2, and 10,289 others

yourusername: t-3 days until my sophomore album "The Cowgirls, Guns, & Horses" comes out, can't wait for everyone to hear it #tcgh

user1: i'm wayyy too excited for #tcgh i just know ts is too good

user2: everyone say amen for y/n for dropping out of uni to bless us with amazing music

user3: yeah it's literally crazy too , like she was going to be an engineer and literally quit her last year...😦😦

user2: it's lowkey sad but AT LEAST WE HAVE MUSICCC YASSS

user4: guys...did we see her on twt last night w a certain someone....

user5: wait no??!?! hello please fill me in on the tea 📖

user4: basically some op saw her in a bar with a shit ton our tourists, turns out one of them was non other than F1 DRIVER DANIEL RICCIARDO

user5: THERES NO WAY???

user6: wait who's that... i'm so out of the loop for pop culture guys... 😭😭🙏🏽

user7: he's this super famous formula one driver (drives fast cars in weird shaped circles) from australia and he LOVES the country

user8: yeah... he wears a cowboy hat so much its kind of goofy

user9: yeah and allegedly, SOMEONE SAW THEM GO SOMEWHERE IN A CAR TOGETHER 😃💃🏻

user10: DAMNNNN @/yourusername.... was the d fire 🔥🚒🧯

user11: @/user10 LMFAO GTFOOO

user12: wait so i know this album is gonna be lowkey sad but like what if she pops up w some suprise songs about daniel's cowboy...

user13: i'm DEAD what if she actually reads the comments

user12: i would simply pass tf away!!

danielricciardo

liked by user1, user2, and 109,110 others

danielricciardo: Save a horse, ride a cowboy #austingp

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I slid into the backseat of my Uber, letting out a long, frustrated sigh as I slumped against the door. The driver glanced at me in the rearview mirror, but I waved off any small talk with a quick, “Rough morning.”

As we pulled away from the hotel, I scoffed, shaking my head at myself. Did I seriously just spend money to Uber to and from a booty call? The thought made me cringe. Out of all the impulsive decisions I’d made in my life, this one was quickly climbing the ranks. I mean, come on—Ubering to a random hotel was bad enough, but having to ride back in shame after? That was a whole new level of poor life choices.

By the time the Uber pulled up to my house, I was already mentally preparing to face the walk of shame into my own home. I quietly slipped inside, trying to be as stealthy as possible, when suddenly—

“Boo!”

I jumped a mile high, my heart nearly leaping out of my chest as my younger sister, Maddie, popped out of nowhere, grinning like a cat who caught a canary.

“Jesus, Maddie!” I whisper-yelled, clutching my chest. “What is wrong with you?”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, eyes immediately trailing up and down my disheveled outfit. “Uh, is that the same thing you wore yesterday?” she asked, crossing her arms with a knowing smirk. “Did you... seriously just come back from—”

I slapped my hand over her mouth before she could finish the sentence, my eyes wide. “Shh! Keep it down!” I hissed. “We are not having this conversation out here.”

Her eyes twinkled mischievously, but she nodded under my hand, so I let her go. I grabbed her wrist and dragged her down the hall, sneaking into my room like we were plotting a heist. Once inside, I shut the door behind us and turned to face her, arms crossed.

Maddie sat on the edge of my bed, looking way too pleased with herself. “Spill,” she said, not even bothering with a polite lead-in.

I groaned, rubbing my temples. “Fine. But you cannot tell anyone.”

She mimed zipping her lips and leaned in, ready for the juicy details.

“So…” I began, pacing the room. “Last night was a complete disaster. I ended up—well, you know—at some guy’s hotel room.”

Maddie’s eyes widened. “Wait, what? You? Miss ‘I Don’t Do Hookups’?”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” I muttered, flopping down beside her on the bed. “I don’t even know how it happened. We were drinking, flirting… one thing led to another, and next thing I know, I wake up in his bed.”

Maddie let out a low whistle. “Damn. And?”

“And…” I sighed, running a hand through my tangled hair. “It gets worse. Guess who I ran into on the elevator this morning?”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh no, who?”

“Carrie. And Johnny,” I groaned, burying my face in my hands.

Maddie’s mouth dropped open in shock. “No way. You ran into both of them? At the hotel?”

I nodded miserably. “Yup. Turns out the hotel I was in? Carrie’s family’s hotel. Of course.”

She gasped dramatically, covering her mouth. “Oh my god, Y/N, that’s… that’s awful but kind of hilarious.”

I shot her a glare, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “Yeah, hilarious for you maybe. For me? Literal nightmare.”

Maddie giggled, clearly enjoying the chaos of my morning. “So, did they say anything?”

“Not really. Just awkward stares and Carrie’s fake concern. The whole thing was a disaster. I swear, I am never doing this again,” I said, shaking my head.

She grinned, nudging me with her elbow. “Never say never. But hey, at least you’ve got a hell of a story now.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed. “Trust me, I could’ve done without this particular story.”

I stared at the ceiling, still trying to process the absolute train wreck of a morning I’d just experienced, when Maddie’s voice cut through my thoughts.

“So, who’s this mystery guy you hooked up with?” she asked, nudging me again with a smirk.

I bit my lip, hesitating. Should I even say it? It felt surreal—like it wasn’t even real life—but what the hell, I was already in deep. “You’re not gonna believe this,” I muttered, sitting up and bracing myself. “His name’s Daniel. Daniel Ricciardo.”

Maddie’s jaw dropped so fast I thought it might hit the floor. “WHAT?!” she practically screamed, her eyes going wide with excitement. “THE Daniel Ricciardo? You slept with Daniel Ricciardo? As in F1 driver Daniel Ricciardo?”

I blinked, confused at her over-the-top reaction. “Uh, yeah? I mean, he said he’s a driver or something, but... I don’t really follow racing, so I didn’t think much of it.”

Maddie grabbed my shoulders, shaking me like I was the one losing my mind. “Y/N, are you serious? How did you not know who that was? He’s super famous! Like, ridiculously famous!”

I blinked, completely taken aback. “Wait, what? Famous famous?”

Maddie rolled her eyes, like I was the most clueless person on the planet. “Yes, famous famous! He’s one of the most popular Formula 1 drivers in the world! You know, the sport where they race the fastest cars? And, uh, hello, the Austin Grand Prix is in like five days! How do you not know this?”

My mouth dropped open as I tried to wrap my brain around what she was saying. “The Austin Grand Prix? You mean that thing that brings in all those tourists every year?”

“Yes! Exactly!” Maddie threw her hands up in the air, looking like she couldn’t believe my ignorance. “F1 is huge, Y/N. There are races all over the world, and Daniel Ricciardo is, like, one of the biggest personalities in the sport. People love him. He’s been racing for years, and he’s known for being super charismatic and... oh my god, you really didn’t know?”

I shook my head, completely floored. “I mean, he did say something about racing, but I didn’t realize it was that kind of racing. I just thought he meant, like, NASCAR or something.”

Maddie smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, you’re killing me. F1 is way bigger than NASCAR! It’s like the most elite motorsport in the world. And Daniel’s been racing for some of the top teams. How did you not realize you were with an actual celebrity?”

I stared at her, my mind reeling. “So, you’re telling me I just… slept with a world-famous driver and didn’t even realize it?”

Maddie nodded emphatically, her eyes gleaming with excitement. “Yup! And honestly, I’m a little jealous. I mean, Daniel Ricciardo, Y/N! He’s a big deal! Girls all over the world would kill to be in your position.”

I groaned, flopping back onto the bed, my hands covering my face. “Oh my god, I cannot believe this. I slept with a celebrity, and I didn’t even know it. What is my life?”

Maddie giggled, clearly having way too much fun with this. She flopped down next to me on the bed, her grin as wide as Texas. “Girl, don’t even stress. You’re a celebrity now too! You and Daniel Ricciardo? That’s some next-level, power couple stuff right there.”

I groaned louder, pressing my palms against my face. “Maddie, stop. I’m not a celebrity. I’m a girl who just had a really, really embarrassing one-night stand.”

She nudged me with her elbow, smirking. “Nah, you’re thinkin’ too small, sis. Just picture it! You’re up on stage with your guitar, singin’ your heart out, and Daniel’s out there in the crowd, front and center, lookin’ all fine and proud of his lil’ cowgirl.”

I rolled over onto my side, staring at her in disbelief. “Maddie, please. You’re daydreamin’ way too hard right now.”

But she wasn’t even listening, lost in her own fantasy. “Y’all could be, like, the ultimate couple. Country singer and an F1 driver? Hell, people would eat that up! He’d be all, ‘This here’s my gal, Y/N,’ and you’d be sittin’ there in the paddock, rockin’ those fancy hats like a boss. Shoot, you two would be in all the magazines!”

I shot her a look. “Maddie, we’re not even dating. It was one night, and I barely knew who he was until five minutes ago.”

She waved her hand, brushing off my concerns like dust off a pair of boots. “Psh, technicalities. I’m just sayin’, y’all could make waves. You’d be the talk of Texas and everywhere else too. Like a regular old-fashioned Bonnie and Clyde, but with less crime and more racin’.”

I laughed despite myself. “Yeah, sure. A cowgirl and a race car driver. That’ll be the day.”

Maddie wiggled her eyebrows. “Hey, you never know! Y’all could be splittin’ your time between the racetrack and the rodeo. And if anyone can pull off being a celebrity couple, it’s my big sis.”

I sat up, shaking my head but unable to keep the smile off my face. “You’re ridiculous.”

She grinned wide, leaning back on her elbows. “I know, but tell me I’m wrong.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to push away the ridiculous idea. But somewhere in the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, Maddie’s wild daydreams weren’t entirely out of reach.

Just as Maddie was about to launch into another wild daydream about me and Daniel conquering the world, there was a sharp knock on my door.

“Y/N? Maddie? What are y’all doin’ in there?” my mom’s voice called out from the hallway.

My eyes widened in horror. “Oh, crap,” I whispered, looking down at my crumpled shirt and yesterday’s jeans. No way could Mom see me like this. Not after last night.

Maddie, ever the quick thinker, jumped up, eyes wide. “You gotta change! Quick, or she’ll know!”

I scrambled off the bed, frantically grabbing the first pair of sweatpants I could find and yanking off my wrinkled jeans. “Uh, we’re just—hold on, Mom! Give us a sec!” I yelled back, pulling on the sweats and trying to find a shirt that didn’t scream ‘walk of shame.’

Mom knocked again, louder this time, sounding more impatient. “What’s takin’ so long? Y’all up to no good in there?”

Maddie shot me a panicked look, then, in true Maddie fashion, she came up with the most absurd lie possible. “Mom, we’re—uh—just checking if Y/N has a wart down there!”

My head snapped up so fast I nearly fell over. “WHAT?”

Maddie’s eyes were wide with mischief as she mouthed, Just go with it!

Mom was silent for a second, and then I heard a heavy sigh. “A wart? Y’all expect me to believe that?”

Maddie waved her arms around frantically, trying to sell the lie. “Yeah! You know, like, one of those really weird ones! We didn’t wanna make a fuss about it, so we’re handling it ourselves.”

I threw on a hoodie, pulling it over my head as fast as I could, all while glaring at Maddie. “Are you kidding me?” I whispered through gritted teeth, but she just gave me a thumbs-up.

Mom’s patience was clearly wearing thin. “Well, can’t this wait until later? I need y’all downstairs now.”

Maddie’s eyes darted around, looking for an escape. “Uh, well, it’s kind of urgent, Mom! You don’t just leave a wart alone, right? It could get... worse! Way worse!”

I buried my face in my hands, trying not to burst out laughing at how ridiculous this had become. But Maddie wasn’t letting up, and my mom, bless her, was clearly not buying it.

“Alright, enough. I don’t care if there’s a whole forest of warts down there! Get your butts downstairs in two minutes or I’m coming in!” Mom’s voice was firm now, and I could hear her foot tapping impatiently outside the door.

Maddie shot me a guilty look as I finally finished pulling myself together. “Okay, okay, we’re coming!” I yelled back, exasperated but unable to stop giggling at how absurd this situation had become.

As soon as we heard Mom walk away from the door, I turned to Maddie, shaking my head. “A wart? Really? That’s your best lie?”

Maddie grinned, completely unbothered. “Hey, I had to think fast! Besides, you know Mom was gonna barge in here if we didn’t come up with something good.”

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help but laugh. “I swear, if I ever have to explain to her that I don’t have warts, you’re taking the blame.”

“Deal,” Maddie said with a grin, grabbing my arm and dragging me toward the door. “Now let’s go before she drags us down there herself.”

Maddie and I hurried downstairs, trying our best to look normal — like we hadn’t just staged a ridiculous wart-related lie to keep Mom from barging into my room. As soon as we hit the bottom step, Mom was standing there with her arms crossed, eyeing us with that mom look that said she knew something was up but was choosing to let it slide for now.

She raised an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at her lips. “Y’all got those warts handled? Need me to call a doctor or somethin’?”

I groaned, rolling my eyes as Maddie snickered beside me. “We’re fine, Mom,” I muttered, trying not to blush all over again. “No doctor necessary.”

Mom chuckled and shook her head. “Alright, then. I need you two to run to the mart for me.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out a grocery list, handing it over. “Just a few things I need for tonight. Don’t dilly-dally.”

I took the list and scanned it, my mind still racing from the chaos of the morning. Eggs, milk, sugar—normal stuff. But then I spotted cilantro circled three times with a little note that said, “Don’t forget this time!!!”

I sighed, folding the list up and sticking it in my pocket. “Got it, Mom. Anything else? Want us to pick up some wart cream while we’re at it?” I teased, shooting Maddie a glance.

Maddie snorted, and Mom swatted me lightly on the arm. “Just get what’s on the list, smart mouth.”

We headed out the door and into the driveway, where Maddie tossed me the keys to my truck. “Your turn to drive,” she said, hopping into the passenger seat with a grin. “I’m still recovering from your fashion disaster this morning.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I muttered, climbing into the driver’s seat. “You’re never gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” she said, smirking as I started the engine. The truck roared to life, and we pulled out of the driveway, heading toward the mart.

As we cruised down the road, the Texas sun beating down on us, I finally started to relax. The insanity of the morning was starting to fade, and it felt good to just drive, even if it was for groceries.

“Cilantro, huh?” Maddie said, glancing at the list as we pulled into the parking lot of the mart. “You better not forget that, or Mom’s gonna throw a fit.”

I parked the truck and unbuckled my seatbelt. “Yeah, I know. We’re on a cilantro mission now.”

We hopped out of the truck, laughing about the morning's chaos as we headed inside. At least now, it was just me, Maddie, and a simple grocery list to tackle.

Maddie and I wandered through the grocery store aisles, chatting about nothing in particular as we grabbed the items on Mom’s list. Everything was going smoothly until I remembered the cilantro.

“Maddie, I can’t forget the cilantro. Mom will kill me if I come back without it.” I scanned the store like I was hunting for buried treasure, and then—out of the corner of my eye—I spotted it. The last bunch of cilantro.

“There!” I practically shouted, pointing across the produce section. Without thinking, I made a mad dash for it, leaving Maddie behind as I zeroed in on my target. Nothing was going to stop me from getting this cilantro—not after what happened last time.

But just as I reached for it, my hand collided with someone else’s.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” a familiar voice said, as our hands both grabbed for the same bunch. “In a rush, are we?”

I looked up and found myself staring directly into Daniel’s mischievous eyes. My heart skipped a beat—of all people.

“You?” I blurted, both annoyed and surprised.

Daniel grinned, raising an eyebrow as his hand still held onto the cilantro. “What, you didn’t think you’d see me again?”

I blinked, trying to recover from the sudden collision, both physically and mentally. “I—uh—no, I just didn’t expect to be fighting you over a bunch of cilantro,” I said, still clutching the herb in one hand as he held the other end.

He chuckled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “Well, if you’d been a little slower, this wouldn’t be a problem.”

I scoffed, narrowing my eyes at him. “Slower? I was practically flying over here. I saw it first.”

“Oh, really?” He tilted his head, that playful smirk of his back in full force. “I’m pretty sure I had my hand on it before you did.”

“Dream on, Ricciardo,” I shot back, trying to yank the cilantro from his grip. “It’s mine.”

He tightened his hold, clearly enjoying this way too much. “Tell you what—we’ll share it.”

“Share?” I raised an eyebrow. “What, you want to split a bunch of cilantro? What are we, in preschool?”

Daniel laughed, pulling it toward him slightly. “I mean, it’s either that or you admit defeat.”

“Admit defeat?” I shot him a glare. “I don’t lose at grocery shopping.”

“Is that so?” His grin widened as he leaned in closer, his face just a little too close for comfort. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re losing.”

My cheeks flushed, and I yanked the cilantro again, this time breaking the bunch in half. “There. Now we’re both losers.”

He burst out laughing, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Fair enough. You really don’t like losing, do you?”

I crossed my arms, trying to hide the fact that I was blushing. “Not when I’m up against people who think they can out-shop me.”

Daniel leaned against the cart, still grinning like he was having the time of his life. “Alright, you win this round, but I’m telling you—next time, I’m taking the whole bunch.”

I shook my head, trying not to laugh. “Good luck with that.”

Just then, Maddie appeared behind me, her eyes going wide when she realized who I was standing next to. “Uh, Y/N? What’s going on here?”

I turned to Maddie, holding up my half of the cilantro. “Just winning a fight, that’s all.”

Daniel winked at Maddie before looking back at me. “More like a draw, if we’re being honest.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at my lips. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, Ricciardo.”

Maddie raised her eyebrows, her grin spreading. “Oh, this is definitely going in my scrapbook.”

Daniel chuckled, still holding his half of the cilantro like it was a prize. Just as I was about to turn away, he slipped something into my hand, so smooth I almost didn’t realize he’d done it.

I blinked, glancing down at the small folded piece of paper. “What’s this?” I asked, unfolding it carefully, my curiosity piqued.

Before I could even figure it out, Maddie was already craning her neck to see. Her eyes widened in excitement the second she caught a glimpse. “Oh my god, Y/N, do you even know what these are?!”

I looked at her, completely confused. “What do you mean?”

She pointed excitedly at the paper in my hands. “Those are paddock passes! For the Austin GP! You’ve got three-day passes to the entire race weekend! Do you even understand how hard these are to get?”

I stared down at the passes, my jaw practically hitting the floor. “Wait, what?”

Daniel smirked, casually leaning against his cart, clearly enjoying my reaction. “Yeah, figured you might want to see what all this F1 fuss is about, and I happened to have an extra pass. So, you know, if you’re not too busy fighting over cilantro.”

I looked up at him, completely floored. “You... got me paddock passes? For three days?”

He shrugged, looking way too casual about the whole thing. “What can I say? I’m glad I grabbed an extra one just in case.” His eyes flickered with that familiar playful glint. “And now, I’m even gladder.”

Maddie, still buzzing with excitement, suddenly stepped forward, grinning ear to ear. “Oh, where are my manners?” She extended her hand. “I’m Maddie, by the way. You know, the better sister.”

Daniel burst into laughter, shaking her hand. “Well, if you’re anything like your sister, I think I’m in for trouble.”

Maddie winked at him. “Trouble’s our middle name. But really, she’s the one you’ve gotta watch out for.”

I shot Maddie a glare, trying to keep my cool even though my heart was still racing. “Maddie, stop.”

Daniel grinned, turning his attention back to me. “I dunno, I kind of like trouble. Keeps things interesting.”

I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the warmth creeping up my neck. “You just like making everything a competition.”

He tilted his head, that infuriatingly charming smirk still on his face. “Maybe. Or maybe I just like seeing how far I can push you.”

Maddie laughed, nudging me with her elbow. “Oh, he’s good, Y/N. Better watch out, or you’re gonna find yourself in the middle of a Grand Prix.”

Daniel grinned, leaning in just a little. “Well, with those passes, you might just end up front and center.”

I couldn’t help but laugh, shaking my head at how ridiculous this had all become. “You seriously just carry extra paddock passes around?”

“Only when I think they might come in handy,” he said, eyes glinting. “And I had a feeling you’d appreciate them more than anyone else here.”

I raised an eyebrow, still not entirely sure how this was my life. “You’re something else, you know that?”

He smiled, holding up his half of the cilantro. “Takes one to know one.”

I stared at the paddock passes in my hand, still trying to wrap my mind around the fact that Daniel Ricciardo—actual Formula 1 driver—had just handed me access to the most exclusive part of the Austin GP like it was no big deal. Meanwhile, Maddie looked like she was about to combust from excitement.

“I mean, front and center at a Grand Prix?” Maddie piped up, clearly having the time of her life with this. “Y/N, do you even understand how cool that is? You’re basically about to be part of the elite crowd. And you didn’t even know who he was two days ago.”

I shot her a look, trying not to blush as I turned back to Daniel. ��I feel like I should be saying thanks, but... are you sure? This feels a little...”

“Too good to be true?” Daniel finished with a smirk, crossing his arms. “I get that a lot. But trust me, I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it. Plus, I didn’t want to go through the weekend wondering if you’d ever stop fighting over cilantro.”

I laughed, shaking my head. “You’re really gonna hang onto that, aren’t you?”

“Only as long as it keeps you on your toes.” He grinned, his gaze holding mine a second longer than necessary. “Besides, now you’ve got no excuse not to come.”

Maddie, never one to miss an opportunity, jumped in with a grin. “Oh, she’ll be there. I’ll make sure of it. You’re looking at the world’s most stubborn person right here, but once she commits, she’s all in.”

Daniel raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Is that so?”

I rolled my eyes, trying to suppress the smile tugging at my lips. “I wouldn’t listen to her. She’s just trying to recruit me into her fantasy F1 life.”

Maddie snorted. “Uh, you slept with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got paddock passes. I think that fantasy is turning into reality, sis.”

I groaned, rubbing my face in embarrassment. “Maddie, please.”

Daniel chuckled, glancing between the two of us. “You two are something else. This is probably the most fun I’ve had at a grocery store in... ever.”

I crossed my arms, half smiling despite myself. “Well, I guess we know who to thank for that. You’re really making a habit of surprising me, aren’t you?”

He leaned in just slightly, his grin widening. “I’ll take that as a compliment. Just wait ‘til you see what surprises I’ve got lined up for the weekend.”

Maddie’s eyebrows shot up. “Ooh, mysterious. I like it.”

I shot her a look but couldn’t help laughing. “Alright, fine. You win. I’ll come to the race.”

Daniel winked, clearly satisfied. “Knew you would. See you in the paddock, then.” He tipped his imaginary hat and turned to walk away, but not before flashing one last grin. “Don’t forget to bring your competitive spirit. You’re gonna need it.”

I watched him go, my heart still racing as Maddie practically squealed beside me. “Oh my god, Y/N! This is insane!”

I shook my head, laughing. “Yeah, it is. I can’t believe I’m actually going to an F1 race.”

Maddie grinned, nudging me again. “Not just any race. You’re going with Daniel freaking Ricciardo. Girl, this is like something out of a movie.”

I rolled my eyes, but a small part of me couldn’t deny how surreal—and thrilling—it all felt.

After successfully scouring the back of the store and miraculously finding one last bunch of cilantro hidden behind some parsley, Maddie and I made our way to the checkout. I could barely keep my head straight, still reeling from my unexpected run-in with Daniel, while Maddie was practically bouncing with excitement, shooting me side-glances the entire time we loaded up the cart.

Once we were through the checkout and back in the truck, Maddie wasted no time. As soon as I turned the ignition, she turned toward me, eyes wide with anticipation. "Okay, enough stalling. You have to give me details about the one-night stand. I mean, come on. It's Daniel Ricciardo! Spill it!"

I groaned, gripping the steering wheel and backing out of the parking spot. “Maddie, please.”

She crossed her arms, giving me her best "I’m-not-letting-this-go" look. “Oh, no, no. You’re not getting out of this one. I need the full rundown. Like, what happened? How did it happen? How is he? Is he a good—”

“Maddie!” I cut her off, feeling the heat rise to my face. “I am not telling you that.”

She smirked, not even remotely phased by my protests. “Oh, come on. Don’t act like you weren’t just as shocked to wake up next to him. I mean, how does someone like you,” she gestured to me dramatically, “end up in bed with someone like him?”

I rolled my eyes, laughing despite myself. “Trust me, I was just as surprised as you are. It wasn’t even planned! We were both tipsy, flirting at the bar... and, well, you know how those things go.”

Maddie practically squealed. “So, was it... like, really good?”

I groaned again, my face probably a bright shade of red by now. “Maddie, I’m not talking about that. Just know that... it was fine, okay? We were both drunk, and it happened. End of story.”

She pouted but kept pushing. “Ugh, fine. But was he sweet? Was he funny in the morning? Or did he just roll over and pretend like nothing happened?”

I snorted, shaking my head as I turned onto the road. “No, actually, he was... really chill about it. We joked around a bit, and he didn’t make it awkward. I mean, we even fought over cilantro in the grocery store, and he’s still as annoyingly charming as ever.”

Maddie let out a dreamy sigh. “Of course, he’s charming. Ugh, I bet that smile of his could get you to do anything. No wonder you ended up in his hotel room.”

I shot her a look. “Can you not make me sound like a complete pushover?”

She giggled, holding her hands up in surrender. “I’m just saying! You gotta admit, he’s got some serious game.”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that. “Yeah, he’s definitely got something. But honestly, I don’t even know what to make of it all. One minute, I’m waking up in his bed, and the next, I’ve got paddock passes for a whole race weekend.”

Maddie leaned back in her seat, eyes wide with curiosity. “Okay, okay, but I have to ask the important question.” She paused for dramatic effect, smirking like she was about to drop the most scandalous question of all time.

I narrowed my eyes at her. “What now?”

She grinned, wiggling her eyebrows. “Is it... big?”

I nearly choked on my own laughter, my face instantly heating up. “Maddie!” I exclaimed, giving her a light shove. “Oh my god, you can’t just ask that!”

She burst out laughing, completely unfazed. “Come on! You hooked up with a famous race car driver! You know I had to ask!”

I covered my face, shaking my head. “This is not happening right now.”

Maddie nudged me again, still giggling. “I’m just sayin’, you can’t drop all these details about Daniel freakin’ Ricciardo and expect me to not be curious! It’s, like, basic sister requirements.”

I sighed, laughing despite the embarrassment. “I’m not telling you that. Besides, some things are meant to be kept private!”

She threw her hands up in surrender, still grinning like a Cheshire cat. “Fine, fine. But I’m just gonna assume the answer’s yes based on how flustered you are right now.”

I rolled my eyes, grabbing the grocery bags. “You’re impossible, you know that?”

She beamed at me, completely proud of herself. “It’s part of my charm. Now let’s go inside before Mom gets suspicious.”

We stepped out of the truck, and as we made our way toward the house, Maddie shot me one last teasing glance. “I still can’t believe this. You’re living the dream, sis. Now we just have to get you through the race without tripping over yourself.”

I laughed, shaking my head as we walked inside. “Easier said than done, trust me.”

Maddie winked. “Don’t worry, I’ll be there to keep you grounded. And, you know, ask more questions about... size later.”

I groaned. “Maddie, I swear, if you bring that up again—”

She cut me off with a giggle. “Relax, I’ll save it for after the race. Maybe Daniel will answer it for me.”

I gave her a mock-serious glare as we stepped into the kitchen. “If you ask him anything remotely like that, I’ll personally disown you as my sister.”

Maddie just grinned, completely unfazed by my threat. “Oh, come on! You know you’re curious too. I bet Daniel’s the type to joke right back—he seems like he’s got that smooth banter down.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the grocery bags down on the counter. “Yeah, well, I’d rather not find out in front of you.”

She grabbed a bunch of cilantro, holding it up like it was a victory flag. “Fine, fine. I’ll behave at the race... but no promises if the opportunity presents itself.”

I groaned again, shaking my head. “You will kill me one day, you know?”

Maddie smirked as she placed the cilantro in the fridge, turning to me with a wink. “Hey, if you’re gonna be dating an F1 driver, you better get used to me asking all the embarrassing questions. It’s a sister’s job to keep things interesting.”

I felt my face flush at the mention of “dating” Daniel, quickly brushing it off. “Who said anything about dating? This was just a one-time thing.”

Maddie raised an eyebrow, leaning against the counter. “Uh-huh, sure. You just happened to have a ‘one-time thing’ with Daniel Ricciardo, and now you’ve got three-day paddock passes? Girl, please.”

I crossed my arms, trying to sound firm. “We’re not dating.”

She gave me a knowing smile. “Maybe not yet, but trust me, once you’re up close and personal at that race, things might change. I mean, the man gave you paddock passes, Y/N. He’s clearly not done with you.”

I rolled my eyes again, but I couldn’t deny the flutter in my chest at her words. “Whatever, Maddie. Let’s just focus on surviving this weekend without you embarrassing me in front of him.”

Maddie grinned, stepping closer and nudging me with her elbow. “I make no promises. But I will say this—you better have fun. It’s not every day you get to hang out with a superstar. Just... remember to breathe when you see him again.”

I laughed, despite the butterflies in my stomach. “Yeah, yeah. Now help me finish putting these groceries away before Mom comes in and asks what’s taking so long.”

Maddie threw me a playful wink as she grabbed the rest of the groceries. “You got it. But I’m definitely asking for more details after the race.”

I groaned, but there was no hiding my smile. As much as Maddie drove me crazy, I couldn’t deny that having her along for this wild ride was exactly what I needed.

Maddie and I stepped into the kitchen, laughing and joking about who could embarrass me more at the race when we both suddenly stopped dead in our tracks.

Sitting at the kitchen table, sipping tea like it was the most casual thing in the world, were Carrie and her mother, Savannah.

I froze, my heart sinking to my stomach. Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.

My mom glanced up, clearly trying to keep the peace with a polite smile, but there was no missing the tension in the air. “Oh, hey girls,” she said, in a tone that was way too casual for the situation. “We’re just having a little afternoon tea.”

Savannah gave us a small wave, her southern charm still as present as ever. “Hi, Y/N. Maddie. It’s been a while.”

Carrie glanced up at me, and for a second, I saw the flicker of recognition in her eyes. I could tell she was remembering the hotel elevator, just like I was. The awkward tension between us stretched out as thin as it could go.

In my head, a thousand thoughts ran wild. Why are they here? I knew the answer, though. My mom and Savannah had been cordial for years, mostly because they had to be. Both of them were rodeo managers for the same rodeo company, which meant they had to stay civil for the sake of work. The whole town knew their friendship was... well, strained at best. But here they were, playing nice over afternoon tea like it was some kind of forced social obligation.

Maddie, always the one to break awkward silences, cleared her throat. “Uh... hey, Mrs. Summers. Carrie.”

Carrie’s mom, Savannah, smiled politely, her perfect rodeo-queen hair barely moving as she lifted her teacup. “It’s lovely to see you two. Your mother and I were just catching up on the rodeo business.”

Of course you were, I thought bitterly. The rodeo world was so small, and no matter how much I wanted to avoid it—or Carrie—I couldn’t escape it.

My mom, sensing the tension, glanced between us. “Savannah and I were talking about the upcoming event. Looks like it’s going to be a busy season.”

Maddie shifted uncomfortably beside me. “Yeah, busy. Fun.” Her usual energy was suddenly subdued, which I knew was her way of trying to keep things from getting too awkward. Not that it was working.

Carrie, ever the queen of awkward stares, finally spoke, her tone as polite as ever. “It’s... good to see you, Y/N.” She hesitated, glancing at her mother before continuing. “How have you been?”

I forced a smile, trying not to let the awkwardness show on my face. “Great. Just, you know, busy.” Really busy fighting you in elevators and trying to forget you even exist.

Carrie nodded, sipping her tea, and the silence between us stretched even further. I could feel the weight of Savannah’s eyes on me, like she was silently assessing everything—our strained friendship, my disheveled appearance from running errands, everything.

Maddie, never one to let tension linger, piped up again. “Well, we just got back from the mart. You know, had to get that cilantro Mom keeps losing her mind over.”

Savannah smiled tightly. “Ah, yes. Cilantro can be tricky.”

I almost laughed at the absurdity of the moment, but I managed to hold it in, keeping the strained smile on my face. I just wanted this impromptu tea party from hell to be over with.

The silence in the kitchen stretched on, thick and awkward, like we were all waiting for something to break it but hoping it wouldn’t be us. I could feel Maddie’s discomfort beside me, her usual spark dimmed in the presence of Carrie and her mom. My mind raced with a mix of irritation and embarrassment—of all the days for them to be here, this had to be it.

Carrie set her teacup down gently, the soft clink of porcelain against porcelain filling the room like a final punctuation to the unbearable silence. She gave me a tight-lipped smile, that same fake pleasantness I’d grown used to over the years. “Well, it sounds like you’ve been keeping busy.”

Busy avoiding you, I thought, but instead I just nodded. “Yeah, something like that.” I forced a smile that probably looked more like a grimace.

Savannah, ever the poised and perfect woman she was, glanced at my mom and then back at us, her hands wrapped neatly around her teacup. “It’s important to stay productive. Especially with everything going on in the rodeo season. You girls must be a big help around here.”

I bit back the urge to laugh. My mom might be cordial with Savannah for the sake of their professional lives as rodeo managers, but the subtext was loud and clear. They barely tolerated each other, both knowing that competition was part of their work, and now that tension had trickled down to Carrie and me—and Maddie by default.

Maddie, bless her, tried to keep things light. “Oh, we’re great at helping out... with, uh, grocery shopping.” She flashed a smile, holding up the cilantro like it was some grand prize. “Mom’s got us on strict cilantro duty these days.”

Mom shot Maddie a look, clearly not in the mood for her humor right now. “Thank you, Maddie.”

Savannah raised an eyebrow at Maddie’s comment, but kept her voice smooth. “Cilantro can make or break a meal, I suppose.”

Carrie glanced at me again, her eyes flicking up and down, probably still processing our awkward encounter in the hotel elevator. “You know,” she said, her voice too casual, “I think I saw you at the Hilton the other day, Y/N. Were you there for something special?”

My stomach dropped. Of course she’d bring it up.

“Yeah, I... had some errands downtown,” I said, trying to keep my tone even. No way was I going to let her know about Daniel, not with her mother sitting right there.

Maddie, though, being Maddie, had no such reservations about subtlety. “Oh, you know, just casually bumping into Formula 1 drivers. No big deal.”

Carrie’s eyes widened slightly, and I saw her mom’s eyebrows lift in surprise.

“Formula 1 drivers?” Savannah asked, her tone suddenly more interested than it had been for the entire tea party.

I shot Maddie a seriously? look, but she just grinned like she’d been waiting to drop this bomb the entire time. “Yeah, we ran into Daniel Ricciardo. Real nice guy.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened just slightly, and I could tell she was piecing it all together. She probably knew exactly what had happened in that elevator. “Wow, Daniel Ricciardo,” she said, her voice cool. “That’s... interesting.”

Savannah, ever the picture of elegance, nodded approvingly. “Well, that’s quite a meeting. Formula 1 is certainly prestigious. You must have made quite the impression.”

I resisted the urge to laugh. Yeah, I made an impression, alright. But instead, I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It was... unexpected.”

Carrie’s eyes flickered with something—maybe curiosity, maybe envy—but her lips pressed together in a tight line. “Unexpected, huh?” she said, her voice a little too casual. “I’m sure it was.”

I could tell she wasn’t buying my attempt to downplay the situation. She knew. She’d probably already started piecing together the story from the elevator and was likely imagining a whole different version of events—one where she could twist it into something more dramatic.

Savannah, on the other hand, smiled that perfectly polished smile she always had, but I could see a glint of interest in her eyes. “Well, you’re certainly moving in impressive circles these days, Y/N. Formula 1 drivers... that’s a step up from the usual rodeo crowd, don’t you think?”

I bit back a smirk. “I guess you could say that.”

Carrie’s jaw tightened a little more, and I could see the wheels turning in her head. She had that look on her face—the one that said she was already planning how to bring this up the next time she was with her friends. She’d never admit it, but the idea of me bumping into someone like Daniel Ricciardo clearly irked her.

She straightened up in her seat, brushing a lock of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “Well, it must’ve been nice to meet someone so... prestigious,” she said, her tone dripping with false politeness. “I’m sure it was a brief encounter.”

I raised an eyebrow, trying to keep my cool. “Yeah, brief.” I decided it was better not to mention the three-day paddock passes in my back pocket. The less ammunition Carrie had, the better.

Savannah, still smiling, added, “I wouldn’t be surprised if you saw him again at some point. Those kinds of connections have a way of resurfacing.”

I nodded, doing my best to seem nonchalant, but I couldn’t help glancing at Carrie, who was staring at me with just a little too much interest.

Carrie leaned forward slightly, her eyes narrowing just a bit. “So, what did you two talk about? I mean, you don’t exactly strike me as the F1 type.”

I could feel Maddie practically vibrating with excitement beside me, clearly enjoying how uncomfortable Carrie was. “Oh, we talked about racing. Rodeo. Life,” I said, keeping my response vague. I wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction of knowing more.

Carrie raised her eyebrow, sensing I wasn’t going to give her more details, but she couldn’t resist pushing a little further. “Rodeo, huh? That’s cute. I bet he found all of that... fascinating.”

Before I could respond, Maddie jumped in, her voice sweet but sharp. “Actually, he seemed really interested. You know, not everyone can handle a fast-paced life like Y/N’s. Some people are more into... exciting things.”

I shot Maddie a look, barely suppressing my grin as she winked at me.

Carrie’s smile faltered for just a second before she regained her composure. “Well, good for you, Y/N,” she said, her tone cold enough to send a chill through the room. “I’m sure you’ll fit right in with the race car crowd.”

Carrie’s words hung in the air like a challenge, her eyes flicking over me, searching for any sign of discomfort. But I wasn’t about to let her get the upper hand—not today.

I smiled, my voice steady. “I’m sure I will. After all, fast-paced lives aren’t for everyone.” I kept my tone light, but there was no missing the underlying message.

Carrie’s smile tightened, her fingers twitching slightly as she adjusted the strap of her designer bag. “Well, best of luck keeping up. Those kinds of people tend to leave others in the dust if they can’t handle the speed.”

Maddie, ever the bold one, didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, Y/N can handle anything. Don’t you worry about that.”

Carrie’s eyes narrowed slightly, but she forced another smile. “Of course. I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

I could practically hear Maddie holding back a giggle beside me. Carrie’s frustration was almost palpable, and I knew we were getting to her. She was always one to hold her cards close, but right now, the fact that I’d spent time with someone like Daniel Ricciardo—a man from a world far beyond Carrie’s reach—had clearly rattled her.

Savannah, ever the picture of grace, stepped in before things could escalate any further. “Alright, girls. We really must be going.” She placed a hand on Carrie’s shoulder, guiding her toward the door, but not before giving me one last glance. “You’ll have to tell us more about your Formula 1 adventures next time, Y/N.”

I nodded, keeping my expression neutral. “We’ll see how the weekend goes.”

Carrie shot me one last look as they turned to leave, her voice almost too casual. “Enjoy the race. Let’s hope it’s as exciting as you’re expecting.”

I held her gaze, giving her the smallest of smirks. “Oh, I’m sure it will be.”

As soon as the door clicked shut behind them, Maddie let out the loudest laugh, finally letting go of all the tension that had been bubbling up during that excruciatingly polite exchange.

“Did you see her face?” Maddie said, practically bouncing with glee. “She’s absolutely livid. I can’t believe you kept your cool like that!”

I exhaled, leaning against the counter. “Barely. She almost had me when she started pushing about Daniel.”

Maddie waved her hand dismissively. “Nah, you handled that like a champ. I mean, did you see how she tried to act all nonchalant? She’s probably seething inside.”

I grinned, shaking my head. “Well, let’s hope she stews on it for a while. Maybe she’ll back off.”

Maddie laughed, grabbing a soda from the fridge. “Or maybe she’ll just get more competitive. Either way, you’re the one with the paddock passes and a date with Daniel Ricciardo.”

I raised an eyebrow at her. “It’s not a date.”

She gave me a mischievous look. “We’ll see about that.”

As Maddie and I were still laughing about the showdown with Carrie, my mom suddenly cleared her throat from the kitchen doorway. “Oh,” she said, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms, “so that’s where you were. I was wondering why you came back home looking like you’d been wrestling a tornado. Turns out you were just... banging some famous Formula 1 driver, huh?”

I froze, mid-laugh, and Maddie immediately burst into giggles, almost choking on her soda.

“MOM!” I spluttered, my face burning red. “I—I wasn’t—”

“Oh, honey,” my mom interrupted, waving a hand. “I don’t need the details. I’m just surprised you didn’t even bother to sneak in quietly after all that ‘looking for warts business’” She put heavy air quotes around her later statement, her voice dripping with playful sarcasm.

I rubbed my temples, feeling the embarrassment crawl up my neck. “It wasn’t... like that.”

Maddie, still giggling, jumped in. “Oh, it was exactly like that. Just wait until you hear about the cilantro.”

Mom raised an eyebrow, her smirk not fading. “Cilantro, huh? Sounds like that’s code for something else entirely.”

I groaned. “Mom! I am not having this conversation with you right now.”

She laughed, coming over and placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m just messing with you, sweetie. But next time, try to sneak in a little less obviously. And maybe let your poor mother know if you plan on... running into celebrities in the future.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but Maddie quickly jumped in, still laughing. “Oh, don’t worry, Mom. If she ever brings Daniel Ricciardo home, you’ll be the first to know.”

My mom winked at me. “You better believe it. Just make sure to feed the poor boy—don’t want him leaving hungry after all that... grocery shopping.” She gave me a teasing smile, clearly enjoying every second of my discomfort.

I buried my face in my hands. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

Maddie leaned over, patting me on the back with a grin. “Welcome to the family, sis. Nothing stays secret here.”

After the chaos with Carrie, my mom’s teasing, and Maddie’s relentless jokes about Daniel, I finally retreated to my room, grateful for some peace and quiet. I had a big task ahead of me, one that had been on my mind for weeks—finalizing my album. The release date was just around the corner, and there were still a few loose ends to tie up.

I sat at my desk, flipping through the notebook that held all my song lyrics. Most of the album was finished, a mix of country ballads, heartbreak anthems, and some upbeat tracks about the wild, unpredictable life of a cowgirl. But something was missing. As I strummed my guitar absentmindedly, my thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the last couple of days—the bar, the unexpected encounter with Daniel, the flirting, the way he made me feel more alive than I’d felt in a long time.

Without even thinking, I started jotting down lyrics. The melody came first, soft and steady, like a heartbeat. The words followed, spilling out onto the page as I replayed that night in my mind. The tequila, the banter, the way he leaned in close with that lazy smile, and how I’d felt—nervous, excited, like I was diving into something new and unexpected.

Before I knew it, I had a full song written about that night. The lyrics were a little cheeky, playful, and flirty, with just enough emotional undertones to make it feel real. It wasn’t like the other songs on my album, but somehow, it fit. It felt right. It felt like something I needed to include.

I sat back, looking at the lyrics on the page, and let out a breath. “Okay,” I whispered to myself, “this might actually work.”

But there was one hurdle left—convincing my manager.

I picked up my phone and called them. It didn’t take long for the line to click, and my manager’s voice came through, warm but business-like as always. “Y/N! We’re almost there. Everything’s looking good for the album release. What’s up?”

I took a deep breath. “Hey, I’ve been thinking... I wrote a new song today. It’s about something that just happened recently, and I feel like it needs to be on the album.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and I could hear them flipping through notes. “A new song? Y/N, we’re cutting it pretty close to the release date. Is it finished?”

“Yeah, it’s finished. I can send you a rough cut tonight,” I said, my heart pounding a little faster now. “I know it’s last minute, but this song... it’s important. It’s different from the other tracks, but it feels like the missing piece. I don’t want it on the physical CDs or anything—we can just add it to the online release.”

Another pause, and I held my breath, waiting.

Finally, my manager spoke, their tone thoughtful. “Send it over. I’ll take a listen. If it’s as good as you’re saying, we can make it work for the digital release. But no promises until I hear it.”

A wave of relief washed over me. “Thanks, I’ll send it over in an hour.”

I hung up the phone and got to work, recording a rough version of the song. It wasn’t polished, but the emotion was there, raw and real, just like that night with Daniel. When I listened back, I smiled, feeling a sense of satisfaction settle over me. This song wasn’t planned, but it felt like it was meant to be there, like it had been waiting for the right moment to come out.

Once the recording was done, I sent it off to my manager and leaned back in my chair, guitar still resting in my lap. The day had started out so wild, but now, here I was, about to add a brand-new track to my album because of an unexpected encounter at a bar with a Formula 1 driver.

It was crazy, sure—but it was my kind of crazy. The kind that made life interesting, that made music worth creating.

As soon as I hit send on the rough cut of the song to my manager, my phone buzzed in my hand. I glanced down and, to my surprise, saw Daniel’s name lighting up my screen. My heart skipped a beat—I wasn’t expecting to hear from him so soon, if at all. I swiped the notification open, and his message popped up.

Daniel: 👀 So… did I win the cilantro war or what?

I snorted, shaking my head. Of course he’d bring that up.

Me: you wish... i think we agreed it was a draw, remember?

A few moments passed, and another message popped up.

Daniel: Sure, sure. I’ll let you keep telling yourself that. But really, I let you have it. Gentleman and all. 😏

I rolled my eyes, biting back a smile as I typed back.

Me: oh, you let me win, huh? that’s the story you’re going with??!

Daniel: Obviously. Wouldn’t want to start a feud over herbs. You Texans can be dangerous when you don’t get your cilantro.

I chuckled to myself, feeling the tension from earlier slip away as we fell into easy banter.

Me: you’re totally right. we don’t mess around with cilantro here. it’s practically sacred!! 😭

Daniel: I’m starting to see that. 😅 So, how’s your day been, besides our grocery aisle showdown?

I hesitated for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard. Should I tell him about the song? About Carrie and the whole awkward tea party? I decided to keep it light for now.

Me: oh, you know... just the usual—running errands, finalizing some stuff for my album release. nothing too exciting, what about you?

His response came quickly.

Daniel: Not as exciting as your day, I’m sure. Just some press stuff and getting ready for the race. Though I guess that means I’m busy dodging questions about why I’m spending so much time in the grocery store lately. 😏

I laughed, imagining him charming his way through whatever interviews he had lined up, somehow making even his grocery shopping sound interesting.

Me: yeah, i’m sure the twitter is DYING to know all about your cilantro preferences.

Daniel: Oh, absolutely. “Ricciardo spotted in aisle five—what does this mean for the upcoming race?” 😆

Me: groundbreaking stuff😣😣. we’re really pushing the boundaries here.

His next text came through quickly, and I could almost hear the teasing in his voice.

Daniel: Speaking of groundbreaking... any chance this album’s got a song about a certain Aussie driver in it? 😏

I froze for a second, staring at his message. He had no idea how close he was to the truth.

Me: actually… funny you mention that. i may or may not have written something inspired by a recent bar encounter. 😉

There was a brief pause before his reply, and I imagined him raising an eyebrow on the other end.

Daniel: Oh? Inspired by, huh? Now you’ve got my attention. Do I get to hear this masterpiece before the rest of the world does?

I grinned, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. I wasn’t sure how he’d react, but something told me he’d find it amusing.

Me: maybe... but only if you promise not to make fun of me. i just wrote it today, so it’s still fresh. it's my newborn baby 💗💗💗

Daniel: Promise. I’m intrigued now. What’s it called?

I paused, biting my lip before typing.

Me: i haven’t decided on a title yet, but let’s just say it has a lot to do with flirting, tequila, and someone wearing a cowboy hat...😏

His response came quickly, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud.

Daniel: Well, that narrows it down. Sounds like a banger already. 😎 When do I get to hear it?

I hesitated, unsure if I was really ready to let him listen to something so personal so soon. But then again, the whole point of the song was how unexpected and spontaneous things had been with him.

Me: soon...maybe if you behave yourself at the race. 😏

Daniel: Behave? Me? I’ll do my best, but no promises. 😉

I rolled my eyes, grinning at the screen. He had a way of keeping things light, but there was still something underneath all the teasing that felt... real.

Me: alright alright cowboy, well, you’ll have to wait just like everyone else then. patience is a virtue, right?!

Daniel: Patience is overrated, but for you, I guess I can try. 😎

I laughed, shaking my head. This was getting too fun.

Me: good. now go prepare for your race before you get too distracted.

Daniel: Oh, trust me, I’m already distracted. You’re making it hard to focus on track times, you know that?

I felt a blush creep up my neck at his words, though I tried to brush it off with my usual sarcasm.

Me: well, o wouldn’t want to be responsible for messing up your race. just remember to keep it on track. 😏

His response came with a playful challenge.

Daniel: Challenge accepted. Just don’t be surprised when I win—and not just on the track. 😉

I let out a laugh, shaking my head in disbelief.

Me: we’ll see about that, Ricciardo.

Daniel: Count on it.

─────────────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────────────

author's note: comment to be added to the taglist! i'll probably update in 1-2 weeks after i get a few more chapters out in my op81 lay all your love on me fic...stay tuned xx <3

[pruneunfair]

The Remarried empress fandom is practically a cult.

If it isn't the very pro-monarchy storyline that gets me, its the fans and how they idolize its protagonist and everyone else who supports her, this normally wouldn't be an issue if it didn't reach the point of condoning literal slavery.

The way the fans of this comic act is straight up disturbing, part of me thinks remarried empress might even be propaganda to push imperialism and monarchies. The characters you're supposed to root for are all horrible people such as a slave owner who is regarded as a cute fangirl, the ML who is a king with an annoying uwu persona that also steals from mages and kills innocent people, a grand duke is so obsessed with Navier he becomes a creep who goes around passing date-rape love potions like candy, and a brother who violates another woman's autonomy by slipping her abortion drugs but they never face consequences and if they do, its portrayed as something unfair caused by the evil women who get in Navier's way.

speaking of which lets talk about how any other woman in this story who is powerful and above Navier in some way is immediately villainized. the mistress Rashta is a former slave who was sold by her father, abused by her masters, one of them sexually assaults her as well (the narrative tries to say Rashta consented even though a slave can't say no to someone who owns them) and ends up severely traumatized after her baby is taken away and replaced with a dead one. Already off to a rough start for someone we are supposed to see as a one dimensional villain.

in the beginning chapters, Navier's ladies in waiting are already ridiculing Rashta before she even did anything all for being a slave who dared to become the Emperors mistress and hurt the feelings of their perfect empress, how could that slave not worship our empress!? What a wench!. later the narrative justifies making a slave the ultimate evil by making her into someone who "seduced" the Emperor and is ultimately written as a evil moron who is the true villain using her body to charm the poor little noblemen. (Ugh..) In the end her character is basically to be a punching bag for Navier to girl boss back into place and she dies alone in a prison cell as the most evil empress in history.

Then there's Krista, a queen dowager who didn't really like Navier but never went as far beyond snubbing her and letting rumors spread, bad but nothing too horrible, and when she sends a gift one of Navier's ladies in waiting gets all upset and asks if she can toss the gift out, its played off as a joke but it becomes clear it's supposed to tell readers that Krista is a mean mean woman for not adoring the MC.

Then when Krista is becoming too independent for the authors liking they begin to ruin her character by having pine after Heinrey, weird as hell but it could've worked if she was actually utilized as a villain and not a bug that needs to be squashed, she then gets blamed for letting Heinrey rest on her lap even though Kaufman was the one who drugged Heinrey while Krista didn't know, she's disgraced and later killed off while Heinrey proceeds to make the rest of her family suffer in the long run as well. And yet fans practically celebrated her death.

The comments are honestly the worst part, nothing but "Trashta has nothing on our queen! 😍" and "Navier is such a true girlboss! go away Trashta! 🤢" there are chapters where characters like Heinrey literally say that he'll torture people who don't like Navier and the comments are all just "Awww he's such an upgrade from Sovieshit, what a soft boy he is!" ffs it honestly feels like a cult where Navier is the god and all her supporters are her apostles.

The message is clear: you MUST like Navier! If you don't then it makes you a bad guy worthy of death row, and it doesn't take much either, all you need to do if talk a little shit about Navier and boom, her hubby has your mouth with rocks and sewn shut (yes this actually happened and it's never talked about again) if Rashta did something like that she'd be getting flamed, I'm even willing to bet if it was Heinrey who mutilated Delice the comments would either be full of cheap excuses for him or they just would give him a slap on the wrist.

I really wanted to like Remarried empress but I honestly can't anymore with the hypocrisy. Navier isn't even very likeable anymore since all she does now is react to everything and either condone what people do in her name or just not caring, so much for an empress who loves her subjects.

[lurkingshan]

Every You, Every Me

Story 3

A mechanic! Not my Last Twilight trauma

Actually, now that he's stood up and I see this black tshirt and coveralls taken halfway down, his look is more Payu than Mhok

HE'S COMING TO ME

Okay listen, who put these mismatched hair extensions on this boy I just wanna talk 🔪

FIAT!!! I missed him

I continue to recognize but not be able to place most of the background music in this show, it's driving me nuts

What's with all these March 19s... no way

Are you telling me he's been stalking this kid at the graveyard for years on his mother's death anniversary? And he asked the mom’s dead spirit to bless their union before he even talked to him?? You a weirdo for this, X

He's never even talked to him all these years but he says he likes him. Love at first sight, I guess. "His mismatched hair extensions have bewitched me body and soul"

Btw why has this kid Namping had the exact same haircut for so many years, seems unlikely

I have no theory on the significance of their family members changing universe to universe but I am noting it

Does the little brother get a side romance in this one? They have two whole eps this time they're getting ambitious

This Bad Buddy style phone flirting across the balcony/window is very good

There's a real ominous vibe happening here, something is def going on that we don't know about

Well, that sure was a wholly unnecessary full body lift 😏

I think I would have preferred they use the time to go deeper on the main pair in this story rather than squeeze in a side couple, but this is a Thai BL, so

Something very charming about X getting excited and hitting his head on the undercarriage of the car

The extensions look better in this almost kiss scene god bless (btw that was mean, Namping)

The chemistry!! When they let them flirt these two are excellent

Hmmm Namping is P' here, but he def wasn't older in the last story, what does it meeeeeeean

"Stop asking" boy what are you hiding

Sexiest back hug of all time in BL?? Perhaps

Man, what the hell happened to Namping? Crying during sex and then disappearing on X and sobbing as he leaves. Why can't he tell X what's going on?? (and also me, please tell me). This all feels really needlessly cruel and I am struggling to imagine a scenario that would excuse it.

Welp! Ton showing up after a time skip alone, wearing all black, carrying a box sure doesn't bode well

The way they are dragging this secret out has officially become irritating. Just say what the fuck is going on.

Well, at least Namping knows he's a coward. Ffs. I cannot imagine how he justified leaving X in such an abrupt way, telling him nothing, leaving him waiting, knowing he will never come back. A terminal illness is not a good excuse for what he did to him, especially because his supposed reason was not wanting to be selfish. But his choices here were far more selfish and cruel than telling the truth and staying to be happy while he could.

This show is not really what I expected based on the way people talk about it. It's not all that light, for one. I've heard it described as being a fun speed run of fanfic tropes, but it's pretty dramatic (in the sense of dealing with heavier themes), and this last story at least was very melodramatic. It's the kind of maudlin terminal illness plot line you'd see in a decades-old drama. I guess that's the idea? We're just running through classic tropes, including some that have been all but retired. I still don't know if or how these different universes are meant to connect, or what to make of these characters. Should I view each iteration as separate from the ones before, or am I meant to think of these as the same souls repeating lives? It's interesting for sure.

[hand-picked-star]

The 13th Anniversary Arshi Fiesta

Moodboard : Historical AU

Whispers of the Heart | Chapter 12

I am not very good at writing ffs. I even read ffs very selectively. But it was an attempt of me to participate in the 13th-anniversary arshi fiesta.

I might be wrong about certain aspects of that age and era, but it's a fantasy, so why not? I don't own Arnav and Khushi and the story is purely fictional and has no relation to any living or dead. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

WARNING : 18+, Without using any fancy word, this chapter is a 'Smut'.

As this chapter contains some mature/ Adult languages, I am not tagging the people I usually do as I am not sure about their preferences.

Chapter 12

The newlywed couple arrived at their destination. Arnav introduced Khushi to Hariprakash and his wife, Gauri, who were waiting at the gate. He had declined Anjali's offer to receive the bride and groom into the house for the first time, a tradition usually performed by elders. Anjali had her own responsibilities to fulfill with her in-laws, as it was the first wedding in her in-laws' family since her marriage. He didn't want to burden her with even more responsibilities.

At the entrance, Arnav stopped Khushi from entering the house. Surprise marred her beautiful face. She looked ethereal today, with his sindoor adorning her forehead, marking her as his forever.

"One minute," he rushed inside to instruct Gauri to bring some necessary things. He looked like a prince in his charcoal black sherwani. He shed his top layer, revealing the off-white kurta he wore underneath. Khushi's adoring eyes traced his movements. Then He reappeared before her with an aarti thali, surprising Khushi to her core.

"You don't believe in such things."

Arnav kissed the side of her forehead lightly. "But you do, and it's not every day Mrs. Raizada enters her house for the first time."

Overwhelmed with emotion, Khushi ducked her head as Arnav applied a tikka to her forehead. A single tear rolled down her left eye when she looked up.

"Am I not doing it right?"

"You are perfect", she uttered with a watery smile.

After all the rituals, the couple bid goodbye to Hariprakash and proceeded to their bedroom. Khushi's heart skipped a beat as she saw the bed and nearly stopped at the sound of the door locking. Her eyes scanned the room, trying to distract herself from not fainting on her first night with her husband. The room was bathed in a soft, flickering glow from the candles scattered throughout. Their warm light danced on the walls, casting gentle shadows and creating an intimate, almost magical atmosphere. As she took in her surroundings, she realized she liked the room. The dark oak furnitures had created such a soothing and harmonious atmosphere with the off-white bed sheets and curtains. The light green carpet added to the charm even more.

Her eyes fell on the mirror attached to the dressing table in front of her. She found a dark-haired girl with pink lips and rosy skin blinking back at her. The girl looked beautiful in her red Benarasi saree and her gold jewellery that sparkled in the light coming from the candles. Then, her gaze shifted to a tall, broad-shouldered man in a kurta standing behind her. They were beautiful, this couple in the mirror. They looked like they belonged together.

"Are you hungry?"

"Huh?", Turning around Khushi couldn't quite understand what he was asking. Hungry!!?? Hungry for what? She looked at his lips and her throat suddenly went dry. She licked her lips nervously.

"You haven't eaten much at the wedding. Tumhein kuch kha lena chahiye."

"No, I am alright. Mujhe bhook nahin hai.""

And just like that, she lost all her nerve. Her downcasted eyes caught sight of his feet approaching in her peripheral vision. As he took a step forward, she took one back until she bumped into the dressing table with nowhere else to go. His hands gently drew her closer, grabbing both sides of her waist. With her forehead and nose pressed to his, she closed her eyes and waited for the sweet pressure of his lips that she had been longing to feel again for more than two years. When that didn't happen, she slowly opened her eyes and found herself caged in the intense gaze of her husband.

"You are trembling like a leaf," he murmured against her lips. "It's just me, Khushi."

With his gentle, reassuring voice, all the tension and nervousness left her body, one vertebra at a time. She surrendered herself fully to the man who had peeled back the cover from her soul. It was only fitting that he would be the one to uncover her body.

Arnav gently took her face in his palm, angling her towards him and took her lips between his own, finally losing himself in her sweetness.

In any of her dreams, awake or asleep, his kiss had never felt like this. As often as she stretched the scene up, remembering what it felt like to have his lips moving with hers, memories could never be but shadow, slightly misshapen and without definition.

There were a hundred thousand nuances, both emotional and visceral. His lips were gentle yet commanding, his hands on her body tender yet possessive. His left hand touched her bare midriff sending electricity down her spine, while his other hand cradled her face, his thumb drawing circles in her cheek. Her head felt dizzy, her chest constricted from not breathing enough, but he was the only air she needed right now. If she could, she would tear her flesh and skin apart and crawl into him.

Alas! it was not logically possible. He broke the kiss giving them both time to catch their breath. The back of his kurta was twisted in her fingers as their bodies rose and fell together. He trailed small kisses along her chin, leading to the side of her neck, and ending in her collarbone. Her head instinctively fell back giving him more room. "I guess you already know what happens between a man and his wife, huh?" he murmured against her collarbone, his fingers nimbly undoing the clasp of her necklace.

"Huh?... Umm... The basics, I guess... Buaji talked to me but she didn't make much sense". His fingers were already after her earrings. As he took them off, he replaced each earring with a tender kiss.

"Buaji?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. His fingers crept down along her arm to hold her hand. He removed all the bangles one by one and then put a kiss on the underside of her wrist. He repeated the same on the other side as well. "I didn't know Buaji was that resourceful." His voice dropped an octave. He swiftly got rid of the dupatta and tikli that adorned her head. He kissed her forehead briefly. His nose traced a path down her own. "What did she tell you? "

Khushi couldn't think clearly with him so close to her. His fingers moved back to her bare waist and slowly travelled to her back. His fingers kept toying with the strings that held her blouse together, whereas Her fingers clutched his collar tightly. Her eyes roamed several times from his lips to his eyes, finally settling on his lips. She licked her own, drawing his attention to her mouth. In a barely there voice, she answered "She told me to let you do whatever you want...... said you would know what to do."

Khushi watched as one corner of his lips lifted, forming a smirk. "Oh, so much confidence in her Damad. Remind me to buy a nice gift for Buaji when we go back." He captured her lips again, circling her waist with his left arm while his right hand untied the strings on her back one by one. And then slowly his hand slipped under her blouse. Surprised, Khushi gasped, breaking their kiss and looking at him with wide eyes.

His thumb began to trace patterns leisurely, causing her skin to break into goosebumps, "Do you want me to stop?" When she shook her head, he murmured, " It would feel even better without the clothes "

Arnav gathered the pallu and the pleats of her saree and unwrapped his beautiful wife with utmost care. As Khushi looked up she found his eyes had darkened. The fire and desire burning in his gaze matched the heat that ran through her veins. Her creamy skin turned pink under his intense gaze. He gathered her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, still clad in her blouse and petticoat.

Embarrassed, Khushi covered her face with both hands drawing a chuckle from Arnav. He peppered the back of her hands with kisses. "Come on, biwi, don't hide from me." When she removed her hands and looked at him with shy eyes and pursed lips, he whispered, "Among these four walls, there's no secret, no shame and no judgment between us. Okay?"

Khushi bit her bottom lip, her eyes filled with shyness as she softly said, "But you are fully covered". Arnav smiled softly as he kissed her lips once again and sat up to remove the kurta in a fluid motion. Khushi's face warmed at the sight of his bare body, now fully on display, revealing what she had been admiring beneath his clothes until now. Arnav carefully positioned himself above her, taking her hand and softly kissing her palm before placing it on his chest, near his heart.

"Ab theek hain?"

Her answering smile was enough for him to start kissing her again, while his fingers went to her blouse, exposing her to him. His lip trailed down, showering her with kisses. Then, he put his lips on one of those places he wanted to, the one that's pink and perfect and seemed like it's pointing at him, causing Khushi to clutch his hair, pressing him to her even more.

Khushi let out a tiny whine when he left his previous spot and moved down further, feathering kisses along his path.

Toying with the strings of her petticoat, he looked at her flushed, beautiful face. "Tell me to stop and I will stop, okay?"

Khushi watched him raptly, as he untied her lower garment and slowly removed it from her body, sliding it down her legs. He lifted one of her ankles and kissed the skin over her payal. His kisses then moved up to her leg, over her knee and along her thigh. He stopped his ascend as he decided to try something he had heard in passing from the raunchy stories his friends used to babble about their encounters. He placed a finger on his target and pressed gently, causing Khushi to gasp and clasp his wrist in an iron hold.

"Shsss..relax". He paused for a moment, watching her reaction closely. With her eyes wide, lips slightly parted, and breathing quick and shallow, she was the most breathtaking creature Arnav had ever laid eyes on. Her blush slowly spread down her body under his dark gaze. His heart pounded in his chest as he moved his finger in slow, deliberate circles, feeling her body respond beneath his touch. With his other hand, he spread her legs wider. Then he lowered his head to explore further, causing Khushi to melt into the bed, her head falling back against the pillow as she clutched the bed sheet in both hands. Her soft moans filled the room.

If the noises she was making sounded ridiculous, Khushi was entirely unaware. If the way her body rose to meet him was embarrassing, Khushi was blissfully oblivious. There was not a single thought in her head. Her entire existence was given over to this feeling rising in her, this pleasure so absolute she was helpless to control it or do anything but let it build inside her.

The tips of her fingers and toes started to tingle. Her back arched as she covered her mouth to suppress her moans. Khushi blinked sporadically, trying to see past the spots in her vision. Her breath was ragged, her chest heaving. And finally, she met his eyes. His smile was small and pleased, the look in his eyes, unlike any expression she had ever seen him wear. This was her look, she realized. It was only hers. This combination of love, adoration, complete devotion and tenderness.

Her hand was trembling as she rested it against his cheek. He turned his head, kissing her palm as he hovered above her. Stroking her hair away from her face, he kissed her forehead lingeringly, holding her tight. He ducked his head, his nose tickling her neck as they just breathed together.

Then He lined up their bodies. She could feel him against her thigh. She didn't realise he had taken off the rest of his clothes. As much as fear of the unknown was there, but bigger part was her love for him. Her body called for his - eager, aching even. Part of her wanted to reach out and take him in her hand. Yet, she held back. However, curiosity got the better of her and she glanced down. She couldn't help but gasp, momentarily pondering how he would fit inside. Despite the uncertainty, her determination prevailed. She let her hands wander along his arms, then his shoulders and finally, she encircled her arms around his neck. She gently pulled his head down to hers as she widened her legs.

His heart gave a thud at the sight of her. She was exquisitely beautiful with her dark curls sprawled in his pillow and her small frame quivering in anticipation. He rained tiny kisses across her nose and cheeks as his elbows caged her head on both sides. He moved one of his hands to her bottom to raise her towards him. He murmured, "Thora dard hoga" and looked at her intently for any sign of discomfort as he pushed inside her for the first time.

It was painful indeed, and every ridge of him dragged along her fluttering walls as she struggled to take him. He filled her up with a slow push and a strained groan slipping past his lips which drown out her quiet whimpers.

Soon, khushi realized how incredible it was, the way she stretched to fit around. Yes, she felt the burn as he went deeper into her, a sharp pain, but it turned into a dull ache with time. She was more wrapped up in the way her body was made to accept his, like puzzle pieces. It was an idea as old as time and yet so new to her. She didn't realise she was crying, till he kissed her eyelids and wiped her tears with his thumb. And then that thumb kept caressing her cheeks as she recovered from the ache of him being inside her body for the first time. Khushi could feel him everywhere, inside her and around her; stretching her and filling her completely. And then his fingers whispered across her skin as if to ease away the inevitable pain.

He had been inside her head and her heart for so long, that it was only fitting for him to be inside her body as well.

"Look at me, Khushi" he whispered. "Open your eyes."

Khushi hadn't even realized she'd closed her eyes until she suddenly remembered why she had. It was almost too much when she looked into his eyes. Like this love they shared was too big to fit inside their human bodies. Like it would consume her whole. She was his, body, mind and soul.

Arnav stilled, letting her get accustomed to him. But the way her walls squeezed and clenched around him, it tested his resistance even more. Then unable to hold himself any longer, he rasped her name as he began to move, setting a gentle yet steady rhythm with deep strokes. He kissed her once, twice and then gathered her in his arm, repositioning them, when the nature of her whimpers and moans morphed into that of pleasure. He pushed her leg up to her chest and bit his lower lip for concentration as he went deeper and deeper. The tips of their noses bumped together with his every move.

She cupped his face and a thrill went down her spine when she felt the way his jaw tensed as her hip rose on their own accord to meet his. She felt the scratch of his stubble against her palms as acutely as she felt him move inside her. His gaze entrapped her into a hypnotic trance. His scent, his taste, his touch, his voice everything drew her in. The sounds that surrounded them—the flickering of the candles mingling with their heavy breathing and the rustling of their bodies, complemented by the tinkling of her payals—were nothing short of an orchestra.

They shared their breaths as they shared their bodies. Khushi felt a nameless yet familiar fiery sensation creep along her spine, igniting every nerve ending in her body into flames. The fire consumed her senses and reduced everything within her to ashes, except for him. She felt her toes curled as she clung to him, burying her face in his neck and digging her fingers into his sweat-drenched shoulders, gripping hard enough to draw blood as her body began to quiver.

Arnav caught her hands and intertwined his fingers with hers as he lifted them above her head, one by one. He lowered his head to capture her whimpering lips in a searing kiss. And then with intertwined fingers, intertwined limbs, intertwined mind and intertwined soul, he claimed her over and over again and marked her as his forever, just as she did to him.

As they came floating down from their shared sensation, Arnav gathered her in his arms. Completely caught up in the feel of him and the emotion of the moment, Khushi was beyond words. As Khushi gazed at him, she realized that she had gotten her sindoor all over him—on the side of his neck, his jaw, his forehead. She turned crimson red, thinking about the cause of it as she hid her face in his chest. With his heart beating beneath her ear, an unfamiliar feeling surged through her and consumed her so much that she couldn't help but voice it.

"How many girls have you been with?"

"What?" Arnav chuckled, caught off guard by the question, especially in a moment like that. He raised his head to look at her clearly. Her face was completely bare except for her red bindi. This one wasn't her usual detachable kind and was likely made of kumkum, he guessed, which had been slightly smeared during their activities. Gently, he raised his free hand to clear away the smudged edge with the corner of his thumb and whispered, "It's a rather unusual question to ask your husband, Mrs. Raizada, especially just after..." His voice carried a hint of amusement.

"Just tell me." He slightly arranged themselves so that he could see her face. "One of them is Lavanya Kashyap, right?"

"How do you know this name?"

"I have my resources. Just tell me," she whispered.

"No, Lavanya Kashyap is not one of them. It's hardly even a 'them'..... there was just this one girl..... what's happening, Khushi?"

Khushi moved close to him and looked at him with her big, mesmerizing eyes. They watered slightly as her voice became heavy, "From now on, you are mine, Mr. Arnav Singh Raizada, do you understand?" His eyes bore into her as love and adoration seeped into his orbs. She tried to swallow around the tightness in her throat and murmured, "I want to erase every thought of every girl who's ever crossed your mind, except for me."

<previous> | <next>

@featheredclover @arshifiesta @phuljari

[chemicallady]

I WANNA FEEL LOVE AGAIN

Part 1

Couple: Noah Sebastian x Fem!Reader

Content Warning: none. It's gonna be a slow burn, baby! Just a couple of bad words and some references to sexual intercorse. Should I add Matt to the warming just because it's part of this?

Taglist: @ada-clarence, @badalmondzzzz, my wifey @starsomens

Summary: Reader is Matt's sister and PR for Bad Omens. After a long relationship that ended quite bad, with her brother help, she decides to give herself a fresh new start in Los Angeles.

A/N: from now on, I'll post my notes at the end of the chapter to avoid spoilers!

As always this is just a product of fiction, nothing in this ff is real, my intention is to entertain myself and all of you.

Enjoy 🐕

I don't know if I count, but I'm trying my best.

This is not a story with a happy ending.

This is not one of those scenarios in which the grumpy old brother, after a significant amount of time, realises that his sister and his bestfriend are in love and the two of you can live happily ever after.

This is the real life, not an urban fairytale.

And there's a lot to unpack, emotionally.

First of all, you and Noah are not in love. You weren't aware of who he was before an hour ago. In your head you can ear in loop Eric, Eric, Eric, and it's fucking annoying that you actually had had the feeling you know him but you didn't recognised his throat tattoo after licking it. Or his nose. He has the most perfect nose you've ever seen, but nothing. It's not even an excuse that you haven't seen each other for three years because Matt shares videos from their gig on weekly basis, when on tour.

It's the fucking Clark Kent paradox, but instead of a pair of glasses, he got those long, perfect silk hair cut.

Losing the 25% of his charm, in your modest opinion.

But it doesn't matter.

Because when you met Eric, your first impression was that he seemed to be genuine, but shy maybe, in a good way a bit weird.

But genuine.

He is not genuine for the fuck sake! He lied on who he is and now you both have a problem.

Matt hasn't noticed yet, but only because he's too invested in the production of the music video to connect the dots. The way Noah stood in front of you, paralyzed, without talking, was loud enough for someone to notice.

You're sure about that.

After that stupid exchange of words you ran back inside the house telling everyone that it's too hot and you are not use yet to California's sunny day.

Dumbest excuse ever since is almost november, and Texas is warmer than here. But it worked so you can sit on the kitchen counter, and reflect about how much fucked up you are.

This is not even a story in which the main character is overreacting. You're Not. Matt has always hated every boy who laid and eye on you. From the very first boyfriend in mid school to a couple of classmates in highschool that just asked for your help with homeworks. Then, Shawn. He has never tollerated Shawn even if the rest of your family accepted him as a son. Matt never made up a scene in front of him or mistreated him in any way. But behind his back, he talked a lot shit, made you furious every time. He said that Shawn wasn't genuine enough (this adjective is starting to sound funny, at this point), caring enough, that he was drinking too much at your parents dinner table, that he looked too possessive.

In your modest opinion, your brother is terrible in judging others. For real. The issue on the table is always the same one; he is afraid you can get hurt. Matt can't physically stand the sight of you crying or being miserable.

Now, after this long mental digression, it's fair to say that he doesn't have to know. Absolutely. And you need Noah to be on the same page about that. You have to cut any contact with him that is not related to work. The date you have for friday is deleted.

It's sad because you really enjoyed having Eric around.

But he's not fucking Eric.

You don't have the chance to speak face to face with noah until after lunch. When the nerds move on Orie's room to give a first look at the unprocessed scenes and Jolly joined Folio in the pool, Noah is the one who actually comes looking for you.

You are on the sofa, petting Harper. He indulges just one second on the sight of you cuddling the adorable princess of the hous, before take a seat next to you. 《 Harp likes you.》

《 Well, she is not the only one. Isn't she?》

Noah release a long, loud sigh, while is cheeks get pink-ish. 《 You really are outspoken, are you?》. He gives a look at you, straight into your eyes. You are ready. You can feel how reticent he is right now, almost scared to say the wrong thing. 《 You are not gonna tell your brother about...》

《 About you eating me out in you car?》 It's your question, whispered between the two of you like the biggest secret in the world. 《 initially he won't believe us, but further investigations will follow; Maybe he will take the fingerprints from the back window. My hands were there while you were fucking me from behind. And he loves CSI.》

《 I'm serious. Are you going to tell him?》

And he is serious. You were joking, maybe because you feel a little embarrassed, maybe because your dad is right when he says that making fun about serious situations sometimes helps in facing them. But Noah on the other hand doesn't look amused. He looks like thinks you're mocking him.

So you hinale deeply, before looking back at him, leaving all your bullshit behind. And that's the moment in which you start to feel how tense the situation is. 《 I would rather chop my own foot than telling him I fuck with his best friend. He's gonna be furious. To me, but also to you. Do you have any deathwishies? Because I just got a fresh new start and I intend to survive the beginning of the week.》

Noah nods with a slow motion. He seems to have already evaluated any bad scenarios and keep it quiet is for the best of all of you. Especially Matt, who doesn't deserve to end up in jail. 《 So it's a secret between you and me now, Vanessa.》

《Don't you even try to use this card against me, Eric. 》

Noah brings his hands to his eyes. He looks even more concerned than you are. Matt once told you that Noah never had a real family, growing up. He was always on his own, so he formed a family with the friends he chose. Probably he is scared to disappoint Matt as much as you are.

《 Why you lie? Why you told me your name was Eric?》

With another sigh, Noah looked back at you. 《 I don't know. Sometime I ... fuck, you're going to have a bad first impression of me.》

《 Don't worry. I already had a bad first impression of you. 》

When he see you smile softly, he chuckles. It's pure tension right now and not the good one. He is living the horror of being caught with his hands in your honey jar. 《 ...When I meet a girl that sounds like troubles, I never bring her home and I give her a fake name.》

《 Did I sound like a troubles, to you?》

《 Yes because I knew I've already seen you.... but I couldn't recall were or when. And when you told me you had just moved in with your brother for a second I thought 'oh shit its y/n, her tits got bigger'. But then you lie as well and I believe I was in the safe.》

《 You didn't remember anything else but my breast size?》

It makes sense.

In some ways.

Half of fault is on both of you.

《 Sorry I lied》 , he says while rising from the sofa, ready to join his friends and check how the video is going 《 and sorry for... you know. 》

《 ah, don't say anything, we both enjoyed that part》 .

《 yeah, it was...》 Noah stays a couple of second in silence before biting both is lips. 《 We have to stop anyway. I cant loose Matt and he gave us a lecture about NOT fucking around with you, before you arrived.》

Now it's your time to sigh loudly. Yeah, you have seen that coming. But it's fine since you and Noah didn't planned it. You call it a casuality more than an incident.

You haven't big aspectation on Eric, anyway.

You feel like you've lost the capability of love long, after Shawn.

《 I agree. It's not gonna happen again》.

He smiles at you in relieve and you feel the same. 《 Can wait to work with you, than 》

《Otherwise》

He waves his hand before turning around and leave you in the living room. Harper is licking your hand so you start to pet her again, feeling better.

Matt will never know about your rendezvous.

You're washing the dishes after dinner, while Matt is picking up a movie. Even if you convinced yourself that you and Noah took the most resonable way, and also your conversation was short but clearifyng, you cant help yourself but feeling a bit down because you're not going to meet Eric anymore. And you know that Eric doesn't even exist. You will see Noah on a daily basis, and this will help a lot in moving on, but it's gonna be tough for the first week or two.

Because you and Noah are not in love, but you can feel the first syntomps of a beginning crush. Which is legit because Noah is funny and goofy and good-looking. More than that, he was nice to you and didn't force you in silence or nothing. You two have a conversation and reach an easy solution that makes everyone safe. Safe from Matt. After clearing the air, he also asked you for some advices because he never had a PR. It's his job usually and the two of you should work on that together. The prospective makes you nervous since you have no clue about the job itself, and Matt noticed. You know he did.

And you also know that he was waiting the vulnerable silence of your shared flat to talk about this with you.

《 What's wrong with Noah?》

You don't look back at him, rinsing the dishes from the soap. 《 What about Noah?》

《 He froze when he saw you this morning. And then you didn't look so happy about working with him》.

Matt and his way to be fucking direct.

You scroll your shoulders, epically good in lying. 《 I can't tell about him freezing in front of me. But I'm not looking forward to be his assistant and bring him his favorite brand of coffe.... or fold his underwares.》

《 That's not your job. He can make his own caffè and he won't let you fold any of his clothes. Trust me, that man on the edge of an OC diagnosis 》. You mumble something about being good in folding clothes while Matt approaches you, crossing his arm on his chest. 《 C'mon. Do I have to pull the big deal out of you kicking your ass?》

You're trapped because you two are too similar. You can read your brother like a book written for kids. Really dumb kids. And it's the same for him. You can't fool him too long.

《 Alright. I met a guy at the gym. He's name is Eric and he looked nice, but now I'm convinced that he's fake like a three dollar coin. Happy?》

You wait for the ocean of question that Matt is going to storm on you, but.... Nothing. He simply exhales before helping you, drying the dishes and the glasses with a cloat. You feel like you just turned twelve again and he was always around helping with the cores your mom gave you.

《 It's good that you're moving on fast. When I brought you here, I was afraid to see you again in the sane state you were in Texas. Close in your own room, drowing your bad feelings under the blankets. It's a good thing that you go to the gym and meet new people but be careful. People in LA are different from what you're used to. 》

You don't know what to say. You were aspecting Matt to start a lecture about rushing your new life and instead you got a boost. That's a progress.

《 Thanks for the advice》.

《 Just text me every time you're with him. And send me the position in real time so I can check.》

There he is! 《 You almost got me scared. I was wandering where my medieval-mind brother was. 》

《 Shut up!》

A soft laught leaves your mounth while he pours so water from the sink on you. And you oblige, doing it back on him. 《 I won't see Eric again, anyway.》

《 Who's Eric?》

《 Gym guy. He left.》

Matt finished drying the last fork before push you a little, playfully. 《 What did you say to make him run?》

《 Nothing! You asshole!》

The two of you reach the sofa, but apparently he is not done with the conversation. 《 Can you promise just two things?》

《 Alright, shoot》

《 In case this guy will be back and you won't be interested, just call Noah. He is enrolled to the same gym》.

You have to do your best to not laugh or betray yourself in any way. 《 Promise. What else?》

《 You are more than allowed to look for some happiness. You deserve to be loved by someone who is not an idiot as Shawn. Someone who sees the real you.》 You smile with some commotion to these beautiful words, reaching for his hand on the cushion in between you two. 《 But please never date anyone from the crew. No one wants drama while we're hitting the road.》

The smile froze on your lips without giving your brain the chance to process why you suddenly feel so .... disappointed.

《 y/n, pinkie promise?》

A bit reluctant, you grab his pinkie with yours, like you have done billions of time.

《 I promise》.

And you really hope you will be able to keep it.

It takes six days to meet again Noah at the gym. Matt helped you find a class about management and public relations, and day after day, you're learning how you can be useful for the band. Working on websites, taking care of the agenda, and defining schedules sounds scary, but you feel more confident day after day.

Noah is sitting outside his jujitsu class, his mitts next to him, and some bandage in his hand. The other one is busy scrolling the screen of his iPhone. You're reticent in bump into him, but just for a second. You know that if you start to avoid him, it will be a bad habit to lose. So you approach greeting him.

He looks surprised, but just for a couple of seconds, while he's buring the cellphone in his shorts' pocket. 《 How is yoga going?》

《 Fine, nothing noticeable》 , you take a seat next to him, smiling. 《 How jujitsu is going?》

《 Today, not so good》 he answers, showing you his brushed knuckles. Some blood on the right hand is almost dry. 《 I have to change my mitts. These are fucked.》

That's an amazing start of conversation for two people who had sex and then started to pretend that never happened in less than 24 hours.

《 Let me help you with that.》 With a nod, you indicate the bandages. He slowly gives the box to you, and after cleaning your hands with the sanitizer you have in your gym bag, you start to wrap the bandages around his hand gently.

《 How's school going? Matt said that you're taking it so seriously》. There is something in his voice that is illegible. Is he mocking you? Or maybe he is amused? You're focused on his hands to pay attention to his sminking face.

《 Well, I'm supposed to, right?》

《 Why? Why do you want to work with us? I mean... you can find a job as a piercer. I saw you in action and you're really good at it. 》

After fixing his left hand, you proceed to the other one, avoiding his gaze. 《 Do you want me to be honest?》

《 You can be honest, or you can be Vanessa 》.

A sigh escapes from your lips, uncontrolled. The audacity of this bitch. 《 Because I want the money. Because I want to spend a lot of time with my brother. Because I want to choose my job and leave the one my prick ex chose for me behind. Because I have nothing left to lose. I want to love my life again, waking up in the morning with a purpose.》

You have no idea why you're opening up to someone you barely know. But it is what it is. You can't have a fresh new start if you are not honest with yourself.

And when you look at Noah, you find respect in his gaze. 《 You just move in LA, and i'm not gonna lie to you: it's hard work. Are you sure you can take this?》

《 I'm used to fight any battle at my lowest》 it's your answer. The most honest one you can guarantee to him. 《 I'm ready to drag myself if it's necessary and only if it's forward. I need a hurricane to shake up my entire existence》.

《 Well well, you might have found the right one. Our new record could be a total disaster or grant us more than I can even imagine. You pick up the right train or, at least, you will enjoy every second of my downfall》

《 You're so drammatic, like every singer. 》

Noah giggles at your last affirmation before checking his hands. 《 thanks. You're already an amazing assistant. 》

《 I'm not your fucking secretary. 》

《 So who are you, y/n?》

A broken doll.

A girl that just wants to be love.

A woman covered in scars, who has a heart hidden in meters and meters of barber wire to prevent everyone from hurting it again.

《 A friend, Noah.》

And you can tell by his smile that it's the right answer he was waiting for. And this beautiful and sincere smile could be enough to put aside any crush you can develop in order to gain a true friend.

《 Lets grab a beer, then.》

A/N : I know that probably a lot of you are here for the smut, but I rethink this ff with a lot of realistic scenarios and the idea of writing a friends to lovers. It's my first attempt on this topic, and I'm thrilling to recieve any thought about it from you! I left an important hint for the future in the text by the way.

You can also send me inbox about my ff, about Bad Omens in general or headcanons! It's gonna be fun if you give me some credit ♡

I also added a song in the beginning that should be a sort of soundtrack for the chapter. I added it to the first chapter as well if you want to check!

Lastly, if you wish to be added to my tag list, comment here or send me a pm!

[hirocimacruiser]

What are old cars like to drive now?

Mazda Familia 3 door full time 4WD1600DOHC turbo review.

The second generation FF Familia tends to be overshadowed by the success of the first FF Familia. The Familia underwent a Key Concept model change in 1985, and the sports version of the 1.6 (twin cam turbo + full-time 4WD) became popular. Yasushi Shimono drove to Osaka for the later model after minor changes.

Text | Yasushi Shimono Photos Chihiro Abe

The other day, I rented a Familia car in Takamatsu, Shikoku. If you see Nippon Rent-a-Car, Toyota Rent-a-Car, and Nissan Rent-A-Car lined up at the counter in the airport lobby, if you're a car fan, you should probably rent a Mazda Rent-A-Car at this time of year.

It's a personal choice, but the Familia 1500AT I rented was actually very nice. The engine and suspension have the solid feel of a German car, and it feels great. Even though I've already driven over 20,000km, I can barely see any wear and tear.

During my summer vacation two years ago, I took a Familia rental car at the station in Tsuruoka, Yamagata Prefecture, and it was a great ride, and my family was happy with it.

For test drives, members of the media always ride in the manufacturer's so-called PR vehicles.

However, when they later try the same car in a rental car, they are often disappointed to varying degrees. I don't have the space to write about the reasons in detail here, but Familia is an extremely rare example of people rediscovering their charm through rental cars. It feels like a very seriously made car.

I am holding this.

FULLY MASCULINE NOUN CAR

In downtown Osaka, I was given a ride on a nostalgic Familia. 1988 model 3 door twin cam turbo 4W.D. It is a full-time 4WD high-performance model that was part of the second-generation FF Familia series that debuted in 1985.

I splurged on expensive 200,000 yen 0Z racing aluminum wheels for the car I bought this spring. There is a bright red mudflap in the wheel arches.

The guard hangs down. The hobby of the owner, Mr. M (35 years old), who really wants to drive a Lancia Delta Integrale, seems to be depicted on the outside.

The inside can also be customized.

It is. The front seats are BRIDE bucket seats. The handle is MOMO's Prototipo. At the tip of the shift lever is a plastic shift knob that looks like a white ball.

The main body of the 1.6LDOHC turbo engine has not been modified, but the muffler and air cleaner have been replaced with "HKS''. The suspension also uses Mazda genuine sports springs combined with GAB dampers. I'm not Kiyoshi Nishikawa, but I get the strong impression that he was trying to do things one by one, starting with what he could do. Mr. M, who works as a tire wholesaler, is a pleasant young man. It is the year of the year. When I pushed in the tape whose head was peeking out from the set, it played Mr. Children, which doesn't really suit Osaka (?).

However, once it started running, the Familia Integrale was a much more radical car than the standard.

First of all, the suspension is much harder than you might imagine from the specs. The ride quality is almost that of a competition vehicle, reacting honestly to the bumps and undulations of the road surface and transmitting short, jerky vibrations.

I didn't think it was power steering at first either. I slowly turned the steering wheel to turn off the engine and realized for the first time that it had power assist. That's how responsive it is. Basically, the normal engine is so energetic that it's hard to believe. Power is already 140 yen on NET display. However, it is more powerful than the face value, and at the signal Grand Prix the acceleration of all four wheels is like that of a rabbit.

I'll show you.

Even though it is a turbo, it starts to crash immediately after idling.

Delivers comfortable torque. The response in the low rotation range is also not bad. Tachometer red zone from 7000rpm. However, the latest 4-valve It's not as smooth and light as the unit.

It has been replaced with an air cleaner for competition. So, at the top end of 6500 or higher, the engine noise, mainly the intake noise, becomes louder.

Air conditioner control panels, air vents, and

-Dark areas where stereo units, ashtrays, etc. are crowded.

There was a designer who once described the center part of the dash as ``the most expensive part of the car's interior,'' but this car has a panel that says ``FULLTIME 4WD'' embedded in part of it. There is. It was kind of noisy. There is also a shiny silver switch inside the spring, and this is for locking the center differential. The owner once benefited from being muddy.

Apparently there is.

The turbo is effective without any noticeable bumps.

It starts to work, and what's more, it works like a turbo. I miss the way the green snail lights up in the instrument panel every time the turbo kick explodes. What's more, every time I shift up and release the accelerator, I hear the resonant whine of the turbine, which is nostalgic. I wasn't able to do it this time due to time constraints, but I was able to drive on mountain passes and some dirt roads, and it still looked really interesting. Manly and sweaty, a perfect masculine noun.

It's Luma.

Of course, the current Familia, which no longer has a sports model in its lineup, is not such a macho car. However, the Familia has always been a car that has not had a fancy feel to it for generations. Fancy is something like ``a womanly thing that a man has come up with.'' I like the character, which is unusual for domestically produced vehicles, but I'm sure there are people who say that's why it doesn't sell well.

PIC CAPTIONS

The second generation FF Familia underwent a full model change in January 1985. It has a 3/5-door hatch and a 4-door sedan body. Initially, it started with 1.3ℓ and 1.5ℓ NA and turbo units, but a 1.6ℓ turbo unit was soon added. The photo is of the later model. The body size is: total length x width x height = 3990 x 1645 x 1405mm. Wheelbase 2400mm.

The steering wheel has been replaced with "MOMO" and the seat has been replaced with "BRIDE". When the New Familia was announced, the company emphasized the improved quality of the interior, saying, ``If the packaging is the same, the quality of the interior is important.''

With minor changes in 8 years, NA unit

The remaining old E-type units were wiped out and replaced by B-type units. Photo of 1597cc 16V DOHC turbo with 140ps @ 6000rpm and 19.0kgm torque @ 5000rpm

Mr. M's Delta Familia has a majestic red mudguard. The ``GAB'' and ``HKS'' stickers and white OZ wheels clearly reflect the owner's taste.

[onmyyan]

Can I just say this? I am in love with the way you write your yan’s!!! I hate reading ff’s of yan’s who are horrible to their darlings like why do that?!? I love how soft you make them with their darlings, makes me fall in love with them too <3

A question though: how would cas + his family react to their darlings having another yan pursuing them who has a more aggressive and violent approach to the reader? Are they thinking 🔪 straight away or a more competitive approach with them to see who truly loves their darling?

A/N: loved this request so much I'm gonna split it into four more parts 4 each of the Delmont boys, up first is our boy Caspian!! NOT EDITED

TW'S: YANDERE, THREATS OF GUN VIOLENCE( THERES NO GUN) VIOLENCE(never against reader), CURSING, BLOOD

Set up: You and your boy are in that early stage of the relationship where you've been on a few dates (read: You said hello to him ONCE and he's stalked you a few times) but hasn't officially asked you out yet for whatever reason, he himself already knows you're his, he was just waiting for the right moment to tell you that, he wanted everything to be perfect for his darling, its what you deserved after all, but then he catches sight of a vermin trying to weasel its way in between your blossoming love, and he just can't let that slide.

Caspian watched the scene unfolding before him in silent fury, his dough all but forgotten as that roach stole his rightful spot by your side, he'd robbed Cas of the chance to bask in your glory while the teacher had his's attention. Our towering man couldn't fight back the nasty look on his face as the idiot currently talking your ear off didn't seem to grasp the fact that you were just responding out of politeness, Cas could gather that much from the irritated look on your face, and the sight of your discomfort was so enraging he gripped the bowl hard enough to shatter in his hands, the porcelain cutting an angry line down the center of each palm, something he didn't even notice until your worried gasp hit his ears.

"Oh my god, are you okay?" You'd rushed over to his side without thinking, a clean towel pressing gently to his wounds, he felt himself smiling at the display, his foul mood replaced with an instant peace, the warmth that always settled around him whenever you were near was addicting.

"I get real clumsy sometimes- don't worry sweetheart I'll make it." He said with a charming wink, the sweet fluster it brought to your face was worth every drop of blood in his veins, he had to fight hard not to coo at the way you fussed over him, then he felt it.

A burning glare from across the room.

It was the same look feral dogs had in their eye when they were about to make a meal out of someone. The eyes on him came with a heavy fog of malice, it made him look up to meet the hateful stare of the man you'd all but forgotten about in your haist to treat him. He leaned on his knuckles so hard the skin turned white, when Cas returned the heated stare he didn't back down, instead he seemed to glower even harder than before, his upper lip twitching in a barely contained snarl.

A wicked little grin grew on Caspian's lips, he knew that look all too well. It seems like his Darling Honey had gone and attracted a fly, but not to worry, he had a knack for pest elimination. He let you coddle him, wincing and whining at random points just to watch the way you pout at his pain, it had the butterflies in his stomach going wild, every soft touch from your hand made the hair on his neck raised, the way you offered to help him for the rest of the class, no hesitation, he knew you were the one.

He walks you to your car, all the while a deep warm baritone voice pleading for a call once you returned home safely, then quietly made his way back to the alleyway you two passed earlier, just as he expected a hand shot out from the shadows to grab at his sweater collar, the wide-eyed man from class had his free hand in his pocket, posed in a position that made it seem as if he was holding a gun. "Listen here you pompous fuck- I'm only saying this once, that pretty little thing is mine. I've been working her for weeks so don't even think about coming in between me and her." He was a good head shorter than Caspian and had it been anyone else the little display of intimidation might have worked, but it wasn't.

It was Caspian.

He rocked his head forward with all the strength in his body, knocking into the shorter male so hard that a small cut appeared on his now bruised skin, his tough guy act vanished in a second as he tried in vain to nurse the growing welt on his forehead. His fingers touched the wound, pulling back with a hiss, blood began pooling down his face.

"Y-You cock sucker! You actually hit me?" He punctuated his sentence by throwing a sneaky punch in the much larger male's face. Caspian took the hit without blinking, before the stranger could think, a searing pain erupted from his throat, forcing his haggard breaths to come out in shallow wheezes. Caspian sighed through his nose as if mildly inconvenienced, shaking his hand from the brutal strike, he hated hitting bone, but he needed to keep this one quiet, he slowly rolled up his sweater sleeves, his thick forearms twitching in anticipation, "When you threaten someone," he said swiping a thumb across the small cut on his lip, his arm snaking around the scrawny man's throat, He scooped the smaller man into a headlock, the flailing roach in his arms him froze up when Caspian's right hand suddenly gripped his jaw hard enough for an audible crack to be heard.

"You should make sure the guy yer trynna' fuck with isn't me."

The next time you see Cas he has a new cut on his lip, and his knuckles are wrapped as if he'd gotten into some kind of fight, the thought made you laugh, Caspian? The same Caspian who helped you out in class more than your actual instructor, the teddy bear who teared up when his macarons came out flat? That Caspian? Yeah right. 

"Oh, this? I knocked into my stove last night- I was so excited for the cookies I forgot about depth perception for a sec." He seemed to brighten at your laughter, the gore he had to clean off his hands well into the hours of the morning all but vanishing at the sight of your angelic smile.

"We're gonna have to Cas-proof your house before you really hurt the goods." your hand tapped against his large chest in a comforting manner, and he could tell from the way you bumped his hip with your own it was a joke but our man is ever the opportunist, gently grabbing your hand, his warm fingers tightening when you didn't pull away.

"What about later tonight? You cover up all the sharp corners and I'll make you dinner?"

[arisu-artnfics]

“A trip to Paris” 7

Notes: 

Chapter: 7/12 Previous Next (First). Versión en Español

Also on:     A03 || FF || DeviantArt || Facebook

Chapter 7: “And they talked”  

“Think it’s an akuma?” Sam asked, getting ready to jump into action.

“Could be...” Danny knew that if it was an akuma, he would be allowed to use his powers, but that didn’t mean he was going to transform out in the open. They needed to gather more information before doing something irrational like that. Even if it did seem obvious that the pigeons were the result of one. “Let’s get a closer look.”

They followed the lead of a few fans, hiding behind a nearby bush to watch the birds perform their strangely coordinated aerial manoeuvres. 

After a minute or two, a weird looking man with an even weirder looking whistle–if it had a specific name, they didn’t know it– appeared, flying on top of a ‘plane’ made of pigeons. That was definitely the strangest thing that they had ever seen, and they were from Amity Park! They were used to ghosts attacking the city almost daily, but this had Team Phantom feeling befuddled in a way that they hadn’t been in a long time. 

Danny was just thinking about how he would even start to handle a situation like this, even with his powers, and that he would take ghosts over this any day, when Ladybug and Chat Noir appeared. 

“Wow! They really do look like the statue… but, you know, with colours…” said Jazz, a bit surprised at how well the sculptor had captured the likenesses of the two new heroes.

“Yeah, they do!” said Danny, also recognizing them from the very statue that stood not too far from where they were right now. He pushed aside a branch to get a better look. “Man, I can’t even tell what they’re saying!”

“Oh, right!” said Sam, smacking a hand to her forehead. “You can’t speak French!” Between the three of them, she was the only one who had a chance at understanding what the villain, if they could even call him that, and heroes were saying. 

“Why didn’t I think of that?” Jazz lamented. It was such an obvious thing to overlook! Unless the heroes started speaking English for some reason, they weren’t going to understand a word they said. She mentally crossed ‘become international spies’ off her list of things to do in Paris.

Danny looked around. “Why does everyone else seem to be, like… bored about all this?” he wondered. At least in Amity Park, people actually hid when there was an attack. 

“I don’t know…” said Sam. She had also noticed that most of the fans were just sheltering under park benches to avoid pigeon poop rather than truly hiding, as anyone who looked could easily see them.

“Yeah, it’s… odd,” added Jazz. She was used to people running and screaming as they ducked for cover, dodging ectoblasts and whatever the ghost-of-the-day’s weapon of choice happened to be.

A shout from the heroes drew their attention back to the fight. “Lucky Charm!” called the one they now knew was Ladybug. It was the only English they had heard so far. 

Even though the battle was a fair distance from their hiding place, they could still hear the heroes very clearly. Although that Charm, power, thing was the only thing they had understood so far. At least until Chat Noir screamed “Cataclysm,” or that’s what it sounded like he said, destroying the weird-looking whistle. From the ashes in his hand fluttered a black tinted butterfly. 

Now Danny was very confused. After listening to Marinette and her family explain akumas, he had been pretty sure he knew what to expect, but that hadn’t been anything like what he had imagined. 

As they watched, Ladybug expertly snatched the butterfly from the air with her yo-yo. When she released it again, seconds later, it was as white as new-fallen snow. “Bye bye…” she whispered as it flew away. Then the battle was finished with the cry of “Miraculous Ladybug!” and that same incredible magic that they had seen once before swept over them, cleaning up all the pigeon poop and putting everything back to normal.       

“Okay… please tell me I’m not the only one who didn’t think that’s what an akuma was… right?” asked Danny, voicing his thoughts. “I mean, Marinette said that they were kind of like possessed people… So, like, what just happened?” 

“No idea… no idea… ” murmured Jazz, just as lost as her brother.

“Maybe,” said Sam, “maybe they were possessed by the butterfly…”

“Oh, Ancients! They’re getting away!” said Danny, pointing out the retreating figures of the Parisian heroes as they bounded across the rooftops.

“And everyone’s just going back to what they were doing, as if there wasn’t a superpowered pigeon invasion less than five minutes ago…” Sam added.

“Even the photographer is back at his set,” said Jazz, nodding her head in that direction. “If you can call a fountain and some extra lights a ‘set’”

“It didn’t seem like a very dangerous akuma villain guy,” Danny commented. “Just based on how everyone was acting.”

“Maybe he’s like their version of the Box Ghost,” Sam suggested with a shrug.

“We should probably take their cue and get back to what we were doing too,” Jazz suggested.

As the trio from Amity Park started making their way back to the hotel once again, they nearly collided with another teen that was going in the opposite direction.

“Oops!” said the girl they recognized as Marinette’s friend. Followed by what they assumed was an apology.

“It’s all right,” said Jazz without a second thought, even though she didn’t understand her. She had been the one that was almost run over by Marinette’s friend, much the same way as she had almost been crashed into by Marinette herself not that long ago.  

“Oh, you speak English!” the girl sounded surprised.

Yeah… ” Jazz replied, a little confused. Surely English wasn’t that out of the ordinary, they were pretty close to a big, famous hotel, after all. And some of the locals in the area had spoken English with them already. 

“Sorry about that,” she said, in English this time. “I was looking for my friend instead of watching where I was going. That girl pulled another one of her famous vanishing acts on me.” She shook her head fondly.

“No worries,” Sam said. “We know someone who’s like that, too.” At this she gave Danny a teasing look.

“I suppose there has to be one in every group,” the girl said with a laugh. Then, with a snap of her fingers, she switched to reporter mode. “So, if you guys don’t mind my asking, how long have you been visiting Paris? Did you see the akuma just now? Would you mind being interviewed for my blog?” she asked very enthusiastically, raising her camera phone to the trio of Americans. 

“Umm… ” Danny hummed noncommittally while gently pushing the camera away, kindly rejecting the offer.

“Oh, uh… Sorry,” the girl apologised again, realising that she was probably invading their personal space. “I got a little carried away there for a moment, Marinette says I have a bad habit of doing that. Let me introduce myself, I’m Alya. I run the ‘Ladyblog,’ Paris’s number one source about akumas and heroes, if I do say so myself.” She stepped back to a more socially acceptable distance and showed them her blog, pulled up on her phone in English. She had correctly assumed that their French was lacking. 

After a couple of seconds while they looked through her blog, she asked, “So… Could I get an interview? Or at least a statement? It’s always so interesting to hear what people think of their first akuma.” 

“That’s… wow!” said Jazz, after checking as much as she could without reading ahead of Sam and Danny. They had checked out the Ladyblog before, on Marinette’s suggestion, but to meet the girl who ran it, and to see how much effort and enthusiasm went into it firsthand? That was something else.

“So, how did all this,” Sam made a sweeping gesture toward where the pigeon battle took place, “start?” she asked. She knew firsthand what caused the ghosts to start appearing in Amity, but the situation in Paris was a complete mystery for them.

“You mean the akumas? Or the heroes?” asked Alya, for clarification. As if she wouldn’t tell them the entire history of Ladybug and Cat Noir and their battle against the forces of evil at the drop of a hat. 

“Both,” Danny replied, now curious. Aside from the akumas, Paris seemed like an average big city.

“Right,” said Alya, settling into her role as storyteller, “Actually, they both appeared at the same time– well, same day. The akumas were first though. You see, at the beginning of the school year– I remember it well because it was my first day at a new school, and, well, everyone was in class when it all went down…” she began. 

“Wait,” Sam interrupted. “It happened at your school?” She had thought the girl only knew all this stuff because she was obsessed with the allure of heroism, at least, that’s how it looked on the blog. She was pleasantly surprised to find that they had met someone who had been there since the beginning and not just someone repeating the story for clout and attention.  

“Well, yeah… in a way… I mean, part of it did– Oh, thank you,” she interrupted herself when Jazz handed back her phone. She pocketed it and then continued her story, “Now, where was I?”

“You were telling us about your first day of school here… what happened next? When did the akumas show up?” asked Jazz, already opening up her Notebook to write things down. She wasn’t one to miss a valuable learning opportunity, after all. She knew enough to realise that this whole akuma business had to be a recent thing. Maybe New York had its heroes and villains, but not Paris, at least not until recently.

“Well…” said Alya, thinking back on that day. “Like I said, one moment we were in class, just before lunch break if I am not mistaken– we were just a couple of hours in, you know– and then out of nowhere, one of the other students was a huge rock-like creature!”

“Woah! So one of your classmates just, like, transformed into a rock monster right in the middle of school!” Danny said. “That must have been wild to see!” 

“Well, I didn’t actually see him get akumatized…” Alya corrected him.

“Wait, then how could you tell who it was?” asked Danny. He was a little surprised at that, since nobody has figured out his identity yet and not nearly that fast, not even the ghosts. And he’d transformed in the middle of the school!

“Oh, no, no, no… I learned that after…” Alya shook her head, “Anyway, as I was saying—” 

“Hey, Alya!” a familiar French voice interrupted her, “I’m sorry for disappearing like that!” 

Alya turned around to see her best friend running over to join them “Oh! Hey Marinette! I thought that you were back in the bakery…” she replied, speaking French as well.

“Hello Marinette,” Jazz greeted their new friend with a wave. She spoke English rather than butchering the French language more than she had to.

“Oh! Hi guys!” said Marinette, switching to English when she realised just who Alya was talking to. “Sorry, I didn’t see you there…” She rubbed the back of her neck sheepishly.

“We aren’t invisible, right?” whispered Danny, looking himself and his companions over, just to be sure that they were actually visible.

“Sorry, I didn’t quite catch that. What did you just say?” asked Alya, switching back to English as well. 

“Nothing! Nothing.” said Danny, waving his hand dismissively. He didn’t think that anyone except his friends would hear him. Obviously he was wrong, but at least they didn’t understand his whispering.

“Okay…?” said Alya, a bit doubtful, but let it go as it didn’t seem important.

“I’m really sorry you guys, it was rude of us to speak in French in front of you. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out,” Marinette apologised. “I just didn’t expect for you to be talking with Alya… I didn’t realise you knew each other…” She let her sentence trail, an unspoken question in her tone.

“Oh! We don’t… Not really,” Alya explained.

“What? Then what… What were you guys talking about?“ Her eyes lit up in horror, “Oh no! I hope I didn’t interrupt anything important! Did I?” She felt a bit bad for that, she had thought that maybe Alya had already met them but forgot to mention. 

“Oh, no, nothing like that! I almost ran into…” Alya paused, realising that she didn’t know what to call any of them. She turned to the taller girl, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t get your name.”

“No worries, I’m Jazz,” she replied with a smile. They had skipped the second half of introductions and jumped straight into interviewing each other, but social conventions were never her family’s strong suit anyway.

“Nice to meet you.” She turned back to Marinette. “I almost ran into Jazz here and, well, noticed that they seemed to be watching the fight, and, well, you know me…” Alya shrugged, she knew Marinette would get exactly what she meant. 

“You just asked them for an interview, didn’t you?” Marinette said, blinking at her friend, unimpressed by her antics.

“Actually, we asked her. She was telling us about what happened in Paris the day the heroes and akumas showed up,” said Sam. She was getting the feeling that they weren’t going to get answers anytime soon. Especially if they kept getting distracted. 

“Oh yeah!” Alya exclaimed, remembering what they were talking about just before Marinette got back. 

In that moment a bright flash of light caught their attention and everyone turned to see what it was. That’s when they all remembered that Adrien was supposed to be having a photoshoot right now. And so he was. Adrien had returned to the park as well and was doing what he did best, being a model. He had been working the whole time they had been talking and the flash was from the photographer taking pictures. 

Sam scoffed and rolled her eyes, unimpressed. He was probably some rich kid whose parents had paid for him to be a model or something.

“Adrien…” Marinette sighed, a bit too dreamily and loud enough for the rest of the group to hear her. That caused some soft laughing from her companions, and Marinette’s mouth clicked shut in embarrassment.

“Sorry,” said Danny apologetically. He had noticed the discomfort coming from his new friend and didn’t want to hurt her feelings or anything like that. 

“Ohhhh!” Marinette lamented, covering her face with her hands. No matter how many times she embarrassed herself, it was never a good feeling.  

“Sorry,” Sam and Jazz echoed Danny’s apology, realising that it hadn’t been very nice of any of them.

“Don’t worry,” said Alya, calming her friend with a hand on her shoulder. “That’s Marinette for you… and that’s Adrien, the teen model of our class.” She nodded toward the photoshoot, confirming the information that they thought they had. 

“He’s in your class…??” asked Danny. He was a bit surprised because he thought that models would need to be privately tutored or something like that so they could learn around their work schedules.

“He is,” Alya confirmed. “And he’s a literal ray of sunshine. Nothing like you would assume from a teen model, honest!” She herself had judged him harshly when they first met and she didn’t want these people to do that too. 

“Sunshine?” asked Jazz. She had never thought of anyone like that before, not even when she was their age. Of course, she had always been mature for her age, so maybe she had just skipped over that developmental phase. 

“That’s our secret nickname for him, to be honest. He is the nicest person that I know,” said Alya, glad that she had gotten to know him better.

“Oh, he is even better than that…” Marinette gushed. “He isn’t just a model, he does fencing, plays piano, speaks English as well as Chinese and a few other languages that he has learned over the years,” she explained, listing off all his talents by heart, counting them out on her fingers.  

“He was homeschooled until this year. Nobody knows how he managed to enrol himself without his dad knowing, but he did. Although that probably is explained by the fact that he was friends with Chloe…” said Alya thoughtfully. It was a bit sad, to be honest, that he only knew friendship in the form of Chloe. 

“Chloe…” growled Marinette. Just thinking about her bully annoyed her. 

“Who’s that? Judging by your reaction, she doesn’t sound like a very nice person,” said Sam. She had a feeling that she knew where this was going, and hoped that she wasn't like Paulina back home.

“Oh, you know… just the Mayor’s daughter, the brat that nobody likes… except maybe Adrien, but that’s because he didn’t have any friends until we arrived in his life,” said Alya matter-of-factly with a small eye roll. 

“Wow, that’s terrible!” said Danny. He couldn’t imagine his life without his friends. Well, he did have an idea, a terrible idea, of what would have happened if he had never met Sam.

“Yeah, you can say that again! He was terrible at making friends at first” said Alya, as a matter of fact once again.

“I did judge him bad as well…” Marinette admitted with more than a little regret for that day, well, that morning. Once she understood him better, she realised that she had been in the wrong and tried to apologise. Although it didn’t quite go to plan as he apologised to her instead, and she fell head over heels in love with him. Something she was still trying to confess to him.

“So… you are all friends now?” Jazz asked curiously. She thought that’s what they were saying, but wanted to make sure. 

“Well, yeah, of course we are! I’m actually dating his best friend, and this clumsy girl here is my BFF, so that makes them friends automatically. Although I bet they would be friends even if that wasn’t the case…” said Alya with a wink at Marinette. She knew that they wouldn’t be friends, but a couple as that’s what the other girl had been working toward for so long now.

“Uh, Right…” said Danny uncertainly as he processed the information.

“So… ” said Marinette, trying to change the topic. “What have you visited since I saw you? You guys said last time that you are here for two weeks, right?”

“Oh, yeah. Danny here needed a holiday and so his family decided to travel all the way to the other side of the world,” said Sam. While that was true, if they had been anybody else, they would have just gone to another state or something. 

“Oh! That’s a bit far for just a holiday…” said Alya. She didn’t doubt their claim, that they were from the US was obvious, or at least she assumed that’s where they were from since they didn’t have the British accent to be from England. She wondered what had brought them this far. 

“Well, let’s just say that if you ever visited Amity Park, then you would understand why it’s necessary…” said Sam. She knew that they were right, it was far, but living over there was full of surprises. And, sure, they could have gone somewhere closer… but, well, with Danny and his powers, they couldn’t risk it.

“Wait… Amity Park?? Like where the ghostly hero is from?? Danny Phantom?? Did you guys know him??” asked Alya, with eyes big and full of surprise. She never thought that she would meet people from there, and so soon after his debut. She had been thinking of ways to conveniently make her way to that small American town, just so she could meet him too. 

“Oh, uh, well…” Danny stammered, caught off guard by the sudden barrage of questions about, well, himself. He hadn’t expected to find a fan of his ghostly alter ego all the way in Paris and he wasn’t in the mood for that kind of interview. He was on vacation after all.

“Alya!” chided Marinette. She didn’t want to annoy her new friends, even if she would only see them whenever they went to the bakery or if they were around the area like today.

“Sorry,” Alya apologised, hand coming up to rub the back of her neck. “It’s just that while akumas and the heroes here are cool… I always thought all heroes are amazing! We went to New York not that long ago… and, well… IT WAS AWESOME!” The grin crept back onto her face, stretching from ear to ear.

“The heroes must have made a really good impression on you then,” said Jazz. She could understand her though. 

“She almost couldn’t believe that she was seeing her heroes over there! Even though some of them don’t have secret identities, we didn’t expect to just see them around. It’s so different over here, we don’t think that Ladybug and Chat Noir would ever share their identities,” said Marinette, remembering the time they saw that the teacher from the American school was the hero that gave her and Chat so much trouble when they had to fight against him and the rest of the American heroes under the akuma’s power.

“Yeah, and it sucks because if we knew who they were, then we could help them! Isn’t that right, Marinette?” said Alya and turned to look directly into Marinette's eyes.

“Isn’t that dangerous?” asked Danny, worried that maybe this girl was getting into trouble trying to figure out who the heroes were. He might need to be careful around her in case she started to look too closely at him.

“Nah! Ladybug would put everything back to normal,” Alya said confidently, “and that is if something happened to me at all.”

This, surprisingly, did little to calm Danny down, so Sam squeezed his hand in hers to reassure him that everything would be okay. She had taken his hand at some point during their conversation out of habit.

“Alya!” Marinette scolded. She was worried about her friend, as she knew very well that she had a terrible tendency of getting into trouble and putting herself in danger when it came to heroes.

“It’s all right Mari, I’m always keeping my distance,” Alya assured her friend. “I promised Ladybug that I’d be careful if I want to keep filming all the battles for my blog.” And, well, she doesn’t like it when an akuma gets her. 

“Wait… I thought you didn’t know who Ladybug is?” asked a very confused Danny. He had thought that they didn’t share their identities. 

“Nah! I wish, but nah. I know how important her secret identity is, you see. She has rescued me a couple of times–” 

“Yeah! Me too!” Marinette added quickly.

“Uhh… and well, once she stopped me from failing from a high place, and, well, that’s when I promised, I mean, It wasn’t my idea of being that high, but the akuma put me up there…” said Alya, as to explain the reason for her promise.

“So, are all the akumas like that pigeon man?” asked Jazz, all business, with pen and notebook in hand.

“Who? Mr. Ramier?” Alya asked, pointing back to where the attack happened to indicate who she was referring to. 

“You know who he was?” Sam was surprised, thinking about how the akuma hadn’t looked much like the man he transformed into, except a certain resemblance in the face, perhaps. 

“Welllllll… he has been an akuma victim so many times, that everyone knows him by now… I feel bad for the guy sometimes, he just wants to feed the pigeons in peace, you know?” said Alya. Most people only knew him as The Most Akumatized Man in Paris, but he was so much more than that. It was sad, if you asked her. “That reminds me, I need to update the number one more time!”

“I feel bad for him too,” Marinette added. “I wish we could do something against the ‘Papillon’ but, well, we aren’t heroes…” she giggled in a way that sounded fake, even to her own ears.

“Yeah…” said Alya, not noticing the fake laugh and continuing as if nothing had happened, “Sadly there’s not much we can do…” She pulled up her blog on her phone to update Mr. Ramier’s page.

“So you guys just, what? Sit and do nothing??” Sam asked incredulously. She was already mentally preparing a motivational speech-slash-civilian combat lesson. Even without the powers there was a bunch of stuff they could do to help, just like she and the rest of Team Phantom did on a regular basis.

“Sam…” Danny warned. They didn’t want to impose the hero life on regular teens, they got the chance to be normal, something Danny didn't have, and he didn't want to take that away from them.

After a moment of awkward silence, Jazz said, “Mmmmm… I see… That makes sense actually.” She didn’t want the Parisians to feel bad for keeping to the sidelines, in fact, sometimes she wished that she could ignore the ghost attacks too, but she wasn’t about to let her little brother fight those by himself. 

“What?” asked Marinette, startled out of her reverie. She had noticed how Sam’s hand never seemed to leave Danny’s and was a bit ashamed that she kind of forgot that Jazz was there. She had just been so quiet that she kind of disappeared. 

“Oh, no, nothing! Just, I can understand why you guys wouldn’t do something so dangerous and it’s better for you to leave it all to Ladybug and Chat Noir. The situation here is very different from what it’s like back home, in Amity Park at least people have the tools to fight back. Most people still just hide and hope for the best, of course, but ghost hunting gear is becoming a lot more common over there, and over here you don’t have that available. From what I gather, especially after reading your blog, I can see that each akuma victim is very different from the others, with unique abilities, and therefore it would be hard to predict any efficient system to fight them. That makes it more difficult for civilians to help, and any that tried would just be put in harm’s way, making things more complicated for the heroes.” Jazz explained. 

Everyone just blinked at her a couple of times, their expressions blank.

Danny and Sam recovered from the impromptu lecture first, fairly used to this sort of thing from Jazz. And while they knew what she was saying, having experienced both ghosts and akumas, or rather, one akuma and hearing the explosions from a second, it looked like the Parisians were struggling to make the comparison. While the kids from Amity Park didn’t have that much to compare to, it seemed like it was more than enough for Jazz to make a connection. It was very clear that ghosts and akumas weren’t the same, but the concept was the same: if something supernatural starts attacking the city, take cover.   

“I guess you are right,” said Marinette, who was the first one to break the silence.

“I suppose you guys are really used to hiding as well, right?” said Alya, understanding what the other teen meant.

“In a way, yeah…” said Sam. Even though they didn’t really hide, but fought. It was just that neither Marinette or Alya needed to know about that.

“Yep!” Danny added with a tight smile and awkward thumbs up, hiding the fact that he was the one who fought the ghosts most of the time. When he ran, it was towards the danger.

“Yeah…” said Marinette, “if we don’t get trapped… or something, I think hiding is the best we can do. I mean, what else is there to do, right?” she continued with a small laugh. It wasn’t even that funny, but she was just glad that it didn’t sound as fake as before. 

“Unfortunately that’s true,” Alya concluded. If things got really dangerous, she tried to take shelter, she needed to be okay to film, after all. 

The conversation lapsed between the teens once again. They hadn’t made it very far from where they started, still standing in the middle of the park between the bench and the fountain. They shuffled their feet awkwardly, unsure of what to say next, unaware that another teen was heading their way. 

With Mr. Pigeon stopped once again, Adrien returned to the park, and, unfortunately, to his photoshoot. Just when he thought that for once, he might get an afternoon off, too. 

His father had told him that after the shoot today, he was free to do as he pleased, so long as he had all his homework done. With that promise in mind, Adrien had rushed home after school and started his homework as soon as possible, finishing just before his bodyguard picked him up for the shoot.

If only the rest of the afternoon had gone so smoothly. 

After they got to the park, they discovered that news of today’s photoshoot location had been leaked and they were swarmed with adoring fans. Normally, he didn’t mind his fans, but they did slow down the photoshoot and today he had been hoping for a short session. He briefly thought about asking the photographer if they could move to a new location, but when he saw his friends, Alya and Marinette, in the crowd, he changed his mind. He knew Marinette wanted to be a fashion designer and how much she loved seeing how things worked behind the scenes. So he forgot his annoyance and set to work as peacefully as he could with an audience.

All that changed when, once again, Mr. Ramier was akumatized into Mr. Pigeon. Adrien used the chaos caused by the fans running for cover from pigeon droppings as an opportunity to escape to a nearby alleyway and transform into Chat Noir. He returned to the park just in time to meet Ladybug. Luckily, he had already been there for the photoshoot, but she had arrived on the scene in remarkably good time. His Lady was just amazing like that. Together they kicked bird butt, just like always, and far too soon Adrien was back at work.

Thankfully some of the fans went home after the akuma attack and he was able to finish his shoot without further trouble. Now that it was over, he decided to find where Marinette and Alya went so he could say ‘hi’ to them, as spending any time with any of his friends was great in his book. Eventually, he spotted them talking with three people he didn’t recognize. Adrien thought it would be a good opportunity to meet some new people, he just hoped that they weren’t fans. He wasn’t willing to deal with that any more today.

Adrien greeted the group in French as he hadn't heard them talking in English.

Everyone jumped in surprise at his seemingly sudden appearance. One of them may have even jumped a bit higher, stayed in the air a fraction of a second longer than normal, but if he had, no one noticed.

Marinette stuttered out a hello, going between French and English, eventually settling on an awkward wave and a nervous smile. 

“They are from Amity Park. You know… America…” Alya said in English as an explanation for Marinette's language mix up.

“Oh, I'm sorry,” said Adrien, switching to English as well, “I saw Marinette and Alya over here and thought I could come say hi… I didn’t realise…” he trailed off, scratching the back of his head. “So what are you all doing over here?” he asked, full of curiosity. He hoped whoever said that curiosity killed the cat was wrong, because he was certainly very curious, and he wasn’t ready to die quite yet. He wondered if these Americans were in trouble, maybe he could help!

“Don’t worry, Marinette over here did the same earlier, when… Alya, was it?” asked Sam. She didn’t have anything against the girl, but she had launched straight into her interview spiel and her introduction had been practically buried by questions. So forgive her for forgetting the other girl’s name, jeez. And really, they should be the ones asking the questions. They needed to find out what was going on in Paris, without Danny having to play superspy.

“Yes, that’s me!” Alya replied. She suddenly remembered just what Marinette had interrupted, “Oh, right!” She was supposed to be asking them questions, or, well, getting answers to the questions, for her blog.

“What?” asked Adrien, lost in the conversation.

“Alya was, uh, about to… interview us about the akuma attack, though I think she changed her questions when she learned that we are from Amity Park… but we distracted her by asking about Paris.” explained Sam. They were in a distraction within a distraction within a distraction, a babushka doll of distractions and she was getting tired of all this. They were supposed to be going back to the hotel to plan for their outing with Tucker.

“Alya!” scolded Marinette. She had already half-forgotten that’s what she had returned to after fighting Mr. Pigeon once again.

“Hey, I’m sorry, okay! I noticed them on my way to your home, and obviously thought that they were witnesses of the akuma, even though it was just Mr. Pigeon,” Alya defended herself. So maybe she didn’t notice them, exactly, but she would prefer to keep that for herself. 

“Don’t remind me!” Adrien groaned, drawing their attention. “I hate when it’s him! Uh, because…his birds make my allergies act up.” he added as an afterthought to distract them from why he was really upset. He almost mentioned how tiresome it can be fighting the same person that many times. 

“Right… Mr. Sunshine here is allergic to feathers. Actually, I don’t remember seeing you and all your sneezing during the attack, where did you go anyway?” asked Alya. 

“Oh, wellll… you know… further…?” the words came out more like a question than a statement. He couldn’t tell the truth after all. 

“You mean back to your car, didn’t you?” Alya teased, with a smile on her face.

“Heh… you got me…” said Adrien, rubbing the back of his neck in a way he hoped made it look like he was embarrassed rather than lying. It wasn’t like he could just say he ran to an alleyway to transform into a superhero, after all.

“I thought ‘Sunshine’ was a secret nickname,” Danny whispered to Jazz and Sam, who only nodded.  

“Anyway, now that the introductions are all done, we should probably go somewhere else and do that interview… You guys are still up to one, right?” said Alya, as if they had said yes from the start and just now they remembered that they were doing one.

Danny shrugged. “I don’t see why not, but I don’t think we have that much to talk about, do we?” He was used to interviews as Phantom, so he was sure whatever Alya wanted wasn't going to be a problem. He just wasn't sure what to say as Fenton, and nothing else. 

“Of course, anything you have to say would help! You guys aren’t from here, that gives me an outside perspective, just like…” Alya gestured to the girl with red hair, trailing off as the name escaped her. Just before the girl could say her name again, it came back to her. “Jazz!” Alya exclaimed, “Just like Jazz said. Sorry, my mind went blank for a second there.”

“It’s okay. Like I said before, I’m Jazz, and these two are my little brother Danny and his girlfriend Sam,” she reintroduced their group for Alya’s and Adrien’s benefit, since Danny and Sam hadn’t given their names earlier and Adrien had joined them later. 

“Some reporter I am,” Alya said with a wry smile, “I completely forgot to ask for all of your names! Well, it’s nice to meet you all, officially.” It was always good and fun to meet new people.

“Nice to meet you all, I’m Adrien by the way,” said Adrien, “Adrien Agreste. I wish I could say something for your blog Alya, but I couldn’t really see much from the car, you know?” he shrugged apologetically. 

“Nice to meet you, too,” Danny, Sam, and Jazz chorused, although they already knew his name thanks to Marinette and Alya.

“Don’t worry Adrien, Danny, Sam and Jazz can help me enough for today,” Alya said while opening her blog on her phone and editing an entry. She had been half doing that the whole time. 

“Wait Alya, you are writing the article now?” asked Marinette. She knew that Alya normally used her laptop to edit her interviews for the ‘Ladyblog’ before posting them.

“Nah, I’m just updating the akumatization number for poor Mr. Pigeon. Did you know that he has already passed the fifty times mark?” she asked casually after checking the post on her blog.  

“WHAT?” they all cried in surprise. Even though Marinette and Adrien knew that it was a possibility, it was still a lot for one person in that short of a time. 

“Well, yeah… he is actually closer to sixty than fifty, to be honest,” replied Alya, as she read what her blog post said. She had long since asked their friend Max to help her set up a program that automatically updated the number of times the same person had been an akuma. It was a great way to get better statistics to possibly see if there was a pattern, and also because people were just curious.   

“Wow! And I felt bad for the guy before,” Sam exclaimed. “You guys said that he mostly just wanted to feed the pigeons in peace, right? What’s so bad about that?” 

“Well, it’s not exactly legal…” Marinette explained, remembering that he had been banned from several parks for it. “I think it’s because it attracts more birds than usual and makes them poop more than normal, considering that most of the time he gets scolded for making a big mess in so many public areas…” 

“Yeah, I think he was even banned from most parks… if not all,” said Adrien, as if he was reading Marinette's mind. 

“Wow…” said Jazz. She thought that was a bit harsh. 

“That bad, huh? Who would have thought,” said Sam, seeing what they were saying. 

“So different from ghosts that’s for sure,” commented Danny. As far as he knew, nobody in Amity Park has been banned from anywhere just because that would bring ghosts or something like that. 

“What do you mean?” asked Alya. 

“Oh, well, I guess, that while ghosts just kind of… appear and do whatever they want, including just fight m– Phantom…” Danny said, quickly correcting himself before he said too much. “Well, here you still have a lot of rules, right?” 

“Danny, Amity still has rules and stuff. Just because they get ignored most of the time doesn’t mean that they don’t exist,” said Sam. She was well aware that they may have broken more than their fair share, especially the ones that say ‘don’t fight the ghosts, report all sightings to local authorities.’    

“Oh! right…” Danny rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, reconsidering what he just said.  

“Okay, I definitely need to know more about what it’s like living with the ghosts! You never said… Do you guys know the ghostly hero? Does he really look like that? Like a teen?” Alya asked in a rush, her curiosity getting the better of her. She just thought it was very interesting, is all. 

Danny shrugged, “I mean, we’ve all seen him at least once… Ghosts like to attack our school for no reason,” he said. ‘Other than fight me,’ he didn’t. “So yeah, I think he really does look like that. Uh, assuming you mean the statue, right?” he asked, once again remembering that there was a giant statue of him holding up the world somewhere in the city. 

“Yeah that.” Alya confirmed. “Have you seen it then?” It was a very curious looking statue. On the day of its inauguration she had dragged Marinette and Nino along with her, and tried to do the same with Adrien –but of course his father hadn't allowed him– to see it. That day she had also started another blog for her new hero, Danny Phantom. 

“The one that's in Amity, yes. The one here… uh, not- not yet?” said Danny. He wasn’t actually planning to go see it, but he didn’t want to hurt her feelings. 

“You haven’t even thought about it, have you?” asked Alya. She remembered just as Danny said it, that they do have the original statue in their hometown. 

Danny sighed, “No, not, really.” He felt like there wasn’t any use in lying about it. 

“I bet it’s the same as the one that's over there,” said Marinette. She thought coming all the way to Paris to see the same thing that’s back home didn’t sound very fun. There were plenty of things unique to Paris for them to visit already, after all.

“We had assumed so…” Danny responded with a shrug. 

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t they just put it here in the park, with the local heroes. I doubt that they would mind sharing a space, you know?” said Adrien. He certainly didn’t mind at all. He could ask Ladybug how she felt about it later on as Chat, but he felt sure that she would be okay with it too. 

“Yeah…” said Marinette, thoughtfully. It had crossed her mind, but it’s not like she could do anything about it. Maybe the next time she saw Chat, she could talk to him about it.  

“That would be amazing!” said Alya. It would be so nice for her blog if she could take a picture of all the heroes' statues in one place, as that would be much better looking.

“I assumed they would just put it where anyone put their presents from other nations, the city hall or whatever the name is here. Sorry for that,” said Sam.

“If you mean the ‘Hôtel de Ville’ that is an excellent guess, but that isn’t where it is,” commented Alya. They had chosen an odd location to put it, but it certainly was… a location. 

“It isn’t?” asked Adrien, who hadn’t been able to see it yet either. Although if he thought about the couple of times that he’d been to the ‘Hôtel de Ville’ as Chat lately, he would have noticed that, indeed, it wasn’t there. He wished his dad had allowed him to go with Alya back when she tried to drag them to see it, but that wasn't the case. It’s almost as if his father didn’t care about the statue at all.

“Nope,” said Alya, pronouncing the ‘p’ more than necessary. “It’s in the ‘Place de la Concorde’, as having it next to the ‘Luxor Obelisk’ was necessary, for… some reason?” She couldn’t stop thinking about how odd of a choice that had been.  

Tucker had shown Team Phantom a picture of the Paris statue at one point and it did look like it was in a strange place, though it was hard to tell from the angle the photo was taken, but they didn’t know much about it until now.

“Huh, that is an odd place. I think,” said Jazz. She was the one who had looked up the different places around the city that they could go and visit, but now she may need to adjust their schedule and not go see the Obelisk. 

Everyone nodded in agreement.  

The group of teens fell silent, the flow of conversation interrupted. They looked at one another and, through a series of shrugs and gestures, all agreed that maybe it was about time to leave the park. 

They began meandering slowly in the direction of Marinette’s house, as it was the closest, and, well, it was getting late. Nobody would fault the kids from getting some sweets before continuing their conversation upstairs in the cosy living room above the bakery.   

To be continued :D :D