#claps so hard my hands catch on fire

[canthelpit0]

Hair pulling / spanking

[A Kinktober special] (except it’s canceled)

Pairing: cocky!chris x reader

Wordcount: 3.1k +

Summary: nothing just 5 times Chris pulled your hair or hit your butt

Warnings: smut, fluff, p in v, spanking & hair pulling, assguy!chris, jealous!chris

A/n: back to writing. Well this is an old draft. But I’m not gonna do kinktober so, might as well upload it now..

01.

The first time you ever met Chris was at an influencer party. You were originally from the east coast too, and you bonded over that.

Both of you were sober, Chris because he didn’t drink, and you, because you were the designated driver.

You talked for a while just lounging in the kitchen the music of the party being drowned out.

You’re an influencer too, so you two just talked, until the innocent conversation turned flirty.

And before you knew it you were upstairs at the house party in some random guest bedroom, your ass up in the air while Chris pounds into you.

You press your thighs harshly together. Your arms draped in front of you. You arch your back every time he recoils only to come back and thrust harder.

You feel your cunt ache and all you can think to do is moan Chris’ name into the pillow that your face is buried in.

You hear another loud slap echo through the room, until your brain registers that that wasn’t skin clapping, but rather Chris spanking you. Not even spanking at this point, he was just blatantly hitting it.

Your mouth falls open then the sting starts to register through your extreme arousal.

“You like that?” You hear his gruff low voice speak again. Your brain is having a hard time catching up with his words. Most of his whispered praises and insult were just background noise to you since it was hard to focus.

“Chris- Chris god-“ you babble out his name trying to communicate that you are close but the relentless speed of his hips slapping into yours makes you weak.

“Already close huh?” He huffs his words coming out harsh due to the harsh breaths he takes in.

It’s taking great effort for him to keep up this brutal pace.

“Don’t fucking cum.” Chris says harshly. You feel another slap on your ass again.

The spanking had been fine at first, it wasn’t too hard and he’d soothe the sting, but now he was not even caring.

And at this point you’re sure that if the music from the house party downstairs wasn’t blaring music loudly the slap of his hand on your ass would echo through the entirety of this huge house.

You keep your arm spread out over your head, your face staying in the pillow.

You feel Chris’ hand on your hips tighten even more. And at this point you’re almost sure that he is purposefully tying to leave bruises.

Suddenly right when you’re close, you feel Chris slow down. When he hears my protesting whine he actually chuckles.

You feel Chris’ hands travel up from your ass, to your arched back, to your neck. And suddenly you feel Chris pull your hair into a messy makeshift ponytail.

You’d been heating up from the inside, and the fact that he quite literally, accidentally, edged you, just added into the feeling of the heat in this room. Your body felt like it was on fire.

Some of your hair hand been, slightly, sticking to your skin. He pulls them all away tho. Your mouth is dry from the amount of times you’ve moaned and screamed tonight.

“Careful ‘aight.” He mumbles you feel Chris leans over my back. One of his hands goes around your neck as he pulls you up so you’re cropped up by your arms.

Chris gives you a quick peck on the check as you’re back in doggy.

He starts to thrust again his hand around your neck going back to your hip. Your arms felt like jellos and really the only thing holding you up is Chris pulling you by your hair.

when he starts to pick up pace again, you Immediately feel the knot in your stomach tie again.

“Oh my god-“ you moan out loudly. Now, not having anything to muffle your noises.

You feel Chris tug harder on your hair and speed up. Suddenly you feel a slap again. It’s loud and echos through the room. It tingles , but in this moment it only serves to intensify your pleasure.

“You close hm?” Chris taunts, his voice low and rough.

You only moan in response. But Chris doesn’t like that. You feel another slap to your ass almost sending you over the edge.

“Go on,” he tugs on your hair harder and his grip on your hips becomes incredibly harder as he holds you in place. “Come for me.” He breathes out.

And as soon as you get the green light that’s just what you do.

Though Chris’ harsh movements into your core don’t stop. His thrust become erratic and your body practically shakes.

The only thing holding you from face planting into the pillow, is Chris pulling you up by your hair.

Chris gives you a few last thrusts letting out strings of curses and groans. He fills you up, not bothering to pull out.

02.

After that first time you two hooked up he’d given you his number, wich is something he usually doesn’t do.

And, while yes, you two did hook up, before that you had a conversation, and Chris thought you are pretty funny. He wasn’t trying to get into your pants in the first place, it just kinda happened.

You two started to hang out the week after. Going out on dinner ‘dates’ except it wasn’t a date.

A few weeks later he finally invited you over and you met his brothers. You knew that he is a triplet and you’d seen clips of their YouTube videos before, so you knew their names and how to tell them apart.

Well not perfectly, but good enough.

Chris and you still casually hooked up once in a while, often, but you were quickly becoming friends. Close friends at that, and not just because you two fuck.

You were now on the couch in Chris’ house. Chris had been to your apartment before, but today you were at his place.

You sit there, Chris’ arm wrapped around your shoulder keeping you snuggled into his side.

You’re watching a movie not doing anything. Matt is fumbling around the kitchen searching for a snack, and Nick was nowhere in sight.

His brothers knew that you two were hooking up, but they’d never say anything about it, because that would just be weird.

You stay focused on the movie, until you feel Chris’ arm move. His hand retracts until it comes back. He slides his hand, under your hair, over your neck, and grabs the side of your neck.

You don’t know why but you’ve always had a very sensitive neck. So the slight brush of his fingers sends a shiver down your spine.

You close your eyes briefly before you feel Chris’ hand start to trail up your neck to tangle in your hair.

You lick your lips trying to stay focused on the movie. You halfheartedly watch until you feel Chris harshly pull on your hair.

You let out a low whine at the impact letting him pull your head back. Your eyes close momentarily and you hear Chris’ chuckle from next to yourself.

“Sorry” he mumbles his grip loosening. Chris lets go of your hair and goes to gently rub your scalp.

“Couldn’t resist” he explains his tone light and airy.

You finally turn your head to look over at him. “You’re good” you shrug.

Chris breaks out into a goofy grin. His hand finds its way back to the nape of your neck again. He pulls you into him, crashing his lips on yours. He laughs into the kiss causing you to giggle too.

“How sweet.” You hear Matt’s flat, sarcastic voice.

It wasn’t like Chris was hiding you. Quite contrary Chris didn’t care if his brothers heard you fucking. Sure you weren’t official but it wasn’t like he was going out of his way to never kiss you.

You and Chris pull apart looking over at Matt who is walking back to his room.

You look back at each other and break out into another fit of giggles.

After your laughter dies down he presses your foreheads together. You wordlessly put your hand on his mouth to wipe away the lipgloss that had gotten on his lips.

Chris chuckles. He grabs your wrist and turns your hand over and gives it a sweet kiss. All gentle and cute.

You giggle in response.

Chris always said he isn’t the type to be all sappy and lovey doevey. But with you that seemed to not be true.

03.

Months have passed since the first time you’d met Chris, and the triplets.

You were over at their house frequently, and Chris was over at yours often as well.

You’d been seen around together, and rumors were brewing, people thought you were dating. Tho you hadn’t been seen together officially. You haven’t collabed with them.

You started to befriend Nick more, just hanging out with him sometimes and talking about everything and anything.

While with Matt you were civil. You liked him, he’s a nice guy, but Chris seemed to get really possessive around Matt.

Sure you think Matt is hot, only because Chris is too. But you weren’t attracted to Matt whatsoever.

You were in the kitchen all three of you baking together. Well mainly you because none of the boys really knew what they were doing.

You were having a random conversation with Matt about the cookies you were making. Matt seemed really excited to make them.

Nick who had given up at this point was just standing in the corner with Chris. Him sipping in his Dr Pepper and Chris on his Pepsi.

You lean over, closer to Matt, to point out something while you explain.

Chris is not jealous per se, you’re not his, but he doesn’t like Matt’s excitement. Despite knowing he’s just excited for the cookies

Chris huffs. He goes to place the Pepsi on the counter looking mildly pissed off.

Suddenly you feel Chris’ leave a light slap on your ass. You turn around mildly offended. You don’t even know when he had come up to you.

Before you can complain or say anything really, his hand goes to cup your face. Suddenly you feel Chris crash his lips onto yours in a hungry kiss.

You sigh into the kiss, only mildly surprised by his possessiveness.

You pull away and turn around trying to get back to what you were doing. Tho Chris just wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you into him.

“Chris?” You ask flatly. At this point you don’t even know what he is on.

“Hm?”

You don’t reply. You feel Chris pull you to the side further and at this point he’s standing between you and Matt.

Matt gives him a raised eyebrow and attitude. As much as you weren’t attracted to Matt, he isn’t attracted to you at all. Him and Chris have drastically different types.

“Dude, chill out” he huffs continuing to stir the cookie dough. “She’s all yours.”

And despite not dating, his brothers understood that he was into you, and neither were going to try to steal you from him.

04.

By this point it was fairly clear that Chris loves your hair. He’d always be touching it, rubbing his fingers through it, watching the way it moves and bounces when you walk. But especially during sex.

When he was hitting it from the back he’d always be pulling at it. And when it was in missionary he’d grab your hair by the roots and pull your upper body up.

What he also loves is your ass, and the way it bounces slightly when you walk. He’d hit it during sex just to watch it move. He’d demand that you work yourself back on him, just so he could see your ass work.

You’d been laying in your bed sideways, trying to fall asleep. Until you felt Chris’ arm wrap around you and pull you closer.

You hum in question waiting Chris to tell you what he is planning to do.

“Can I please fuck you ma?” He says sweetly. Chris’ tone of voice is light, like he wasn’t just asking to fuck.

“Mhm” you hun half sleepily. You sit up slightly to pull your sleep shorts off. You don’t bother with the matching top tho.

Chris pulls his own sweatpants and boxers off, not bothering with the wife beater he has on.

You both lay back down. You had your back facing Chris while he was turned to you. Suddenly you feel Chris’ hand start to trail up your side, reaching your bare hips.

You use his other arm as a pillow. You feel him push your thong aside to tease your wetness. Chris briefly fingers fucks you just to make sure you’d be fine with his size.

You let out light whines and soft moans while he keeps going. You feel his fingers retract and the head of his dick press at your entrance.

Despite having fucked so many times you still feel your mouth water, knowing his size would stretch you so deliciously.

You feel him gently push in. The arm you were using as a pillow stays right where it is while his, now, free arm wraps around your waist pushing down on your lower stomach pulls you further into him.

You whine when he completely bottoms out in you.

Chris doesn’t move for a moment just savoring the feeling of your tight walls clamping down on his aching dick.

“Fuck you’re so-” he sighs loudly. Then you feel Chris thrust into you softly, but lazily.

His cock was achingly hard, and your pussy so tight and warm. It was almost like he wasn’t even trying to get off, but rather be close to you.

You close your eyes when Chris’ thick cock starts to easily glide in and out of you.

“Chris?” You suddenly gain the confidence to ask. You hear him reply with a hum, his face being buried in the crook of your neck from behind.

“I love it when we fuck, you know..” you mumble. You feel too embarrassed to say it any louder, but you really do. He feels your cunt clamp on him harder as you say that.

“I love it too” he mumbles in response. You’re close in every sense of the word. His arm on your stomach keeping you close and only adding to the pleasure.

You feel his slow and sensual thrust. Chris was usually the type to fuck you hard and fast, but in this moment he himself was tired.

You enjoy the slow sensual thrusts as much as you do the fast ones.

“I love you know..” he says slowly. He says it like he wasn’t hearing his own words and just said what came to mind.

Your hearts starts to beat hard and your breath catches in your lungs. You pause. Did he mean that in a friendly way or…

“Not like that-“ Chris quickly backtracks. His own voice sounded shocked at his own words.

You relax more into him. You can’t tell if he’s lying and what he really meant, but you don’t wanna look into it.

Chris lets out a breath just like you had previously. He holds you close while you rock your hips against him.

His hand continues to trail over your side, until finally reaching your hair. He runs his fingers through it gently before pulling it to the side so it’s not in his face.

05.

At first, when you two met, you used to hook up quite frequently. Multiple times a week even.

But the more you got to know him, and especially after meeting his brothers and becoming friends with them too, it was less frequent.

And he got more passionate. Instead of being purely rough and fast, you’d have soft morning sex, or passionate sex in the middle of the night.

You’d kiss all the time, whether it be innocent or not. Whenever he kissed you, his hands would go on your ass.

Chris isn’t ashamed of you. He’d kiss you in front of his brother and his friends. And when you finally did a collab with the triplets he kissed you multiple times through the corse of the video. All things you’d edited out later on.

By now you’ve known them for almost a year, and despite him not being ashamed of you all you wanted was to be able to call Chris yours.

Chris was at your place once again. You were walking a round your room, not really to clean your room or anything.

There was no reason for you to be pacing around your room, it’s just something you did when you had a lot on your mind.

You’d pace your room while talking to yourself to get your thoughts out.

You’d practically forgotten that Chris was even there. He was just quietly lying on your bed. He’d been on his phone, until he gave that up to watch you pace around.

You were staring at yourself in the mirror looking mildly stressed out. You recently had a lot on your mind that you weren’t talking about.

Chris got up ever so quietly. He went over to you, his phone long forgotten on the bed. His arms snake around your waist as he looks at you.

He looks at the way your hands are on your face and your cheeks dramatically puffed up.

“What’s wrong ma? Talk to me.” He whispers lowly. The way his chin is propped up on your shoulder and the way he’s whispering sends shivers down your spine.

“It’s just-“ you huff trying to collect your thoughts but it was like your brain was mush.

“I love you-” You blurt out. it’s sudden. It’s so simple, yet the meaning behind it so heavy. There are so many implications and thoughts behind it.

But all your worries and thoughts, all boil down to the same thing- love.

You hear Chris take in a sharp breath. Your eyes switch from your own face to Chris’ face through the mirror.

“You do?” He asks so softly it’s as if he’s been waiting for this moment. As if he’s praying that this isn’t a cruel joke

You simply lick your lips and slight bite your bottom lip.

“I love you too.” You hear and suddenly you’re breathing again, and breathing fast.

You feel Chris quickly turn you around and press his lips on yours quickly. You close your eyes for a moment trying to pull yourself together.

Chris doesn’t use tongue in the kiss. It’s a sweet kiss, barely any lust behind it just pure love and adoration.

Chris pulls away. His one hand wrapped around your waist the other grabbing your ass.

“Can you be my girlfriend?” You hear him ask. You tilt your head back to stare up at him. You love those pale blue eyes. Your eyes quickly scan all of his features before settling back on his eyes.

“I would love to be.” You breathe out, all the pent up emotion from the months of hooking up rushing over you like a floods.

-Kinktober Masterlist-

Masterlist

(A/N: this was finished and edited on 17th may, I have not re read it since the first time I did all the editing and stuff. I don’t really watch the triplets anymore, so I wanted to get this out of my drafts)

‼️please don’t copy my work/idea‼️

Taglist: @muwapsturniolo , @sturnad , @iluvm4ttsturni0l0 , @evie-sturns , @me09love , @fratbrochrisgf , @spideylovin , @chrissgirlsstuff , @stunza , @whicked-hazlatwhore , @sturniooolos , @ecliphttlunar , @orangeypepsi , @klaus223492 , @char112244 , @sst7niolo , @slut4chriss , @mattsturniololoverr , @th3-3d3n-g4rd3n , @st7rnioioss , @t1llysblogs , @nonat-111 , @blahbel668 , @rockstarchr1s , @sturnsintrouble , @nayveetbhh , @tillies33ssss , @sturncakez , @strnilolo , @somegirlfromasgard , @mattslovelygf , @sturnsmaeve , @sturnstvr , @lucianastrun , @jnkvivi , @jamiesturniolo , @chr1sgirl4life , @h3arts4harry , @whosthislyssbitch , @jamiesturniolo , @sturniololover-09 , @zayyluvz , @sturnzsblog , @jetaimevous , @imwetforyourmom , @yoongslvr69 , @ilovethesturnstriplets

[requiemforthepoets]

spain ⟢ FA14

⟢ part three of this time, i’ll love you much better

𖤓 series masterlist ⟢ playlist ⟢ part four ☽

PAIRINGS: fernando alonso x ex-wife!reader

SUMMARY: everything was going well for jullianna: finally meeting her father, fernando, after twelve years and getting to spend some time with him. that is until a new person inserts herself into the picture.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, the parent trap inspo + plot, named side characters (except reader), twins switching places, poorly google translated spanish & french, inaccuracies with information, and minor typographical errors.

WORD COUNT: 10k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: this is a part 3 of my FA14 series that was inspired by ‘the parent trap.’ i’m so sorry if it took too long, but i hope you’ll enjoy this one! your comments/reblogs is highly appreciated. the taglist for this series is open, just comment or message me if you want to be tagged on the next part.

The car rolled to a stop in front of the sprawling estate, and Jullianna stepped out, eyes widening in awe. The house—no, the mansion, was even grander than the photos Sofia had shown her. The façade was a blend of old-world Spanish charm that Jullianna would often see in magazines, and it was blended with modern elegance—terracotta roofs, white stucco walls, and large arched windows that reflected the warm Spanish afternoon sun. The driveway was lined with towering cypress trees, and colorful bougainvillea climbing along one side of the building, adding a vibrant touch to the pristine exterior.

Before Jullianna could fully take in the whole grandeur of the place, a petite older woman with salt and pepper hair came rushing down the front steps. She was wearing casual clothes—a white loose shirt that is tucked in navy-blue jeans, and topped with a pair of Birkenstock sandals. Her face lit up with a radiant smile. This had to be Alejandra—it is Alejandra.

“¡Mi niña! Mi pequeña Sofía!” Alejandra exclaimed, her voice ringing with excitement as she hurried towards Jullianna.

Alejandra had wrapped Jullianna in a tight hug, arms surprisingly strong for someone her size. There was a hint of lavender scent soap clinging to her, and it almost felt like a comforting and familiar aroma that made Jullianna smile nervously.

“Hola, Alejandra,” Jullianna greeted, trying her best to hide her hesitation as Alejandra’s rapid Spanish filled her ears.

Well, Jullianna did catch bits and pieces of it—something about how grown-up she looked and how much Alejandra missed her, but the rest flew over her head. It was putting Jullianna’s basic Spanish knowledge that she learned a few years ago to the test.

Alejandra pulled back, holding Jullianna at arm’s length to get a good look at her. “¡Mírate! Eres toda una señorita ahora,” she said, beaming. Then, without missing a beat, she began firing off another set of questions. “¿Cómo fue el campamento? Have you made any new friends this year? Did you have a lot of fun?”

Jullianna blinked, trying very hard to process the torrent of words. But then quickly nodded in return, forcing a bright smile as she replied. “Sí, Alejandra. Fue muy divertido.” she hesitated for a moment, then added, “I did make a lot of friends this year.”

She clapped her hands together, clearly very delighted by Jullianna’s response. “¡Eso me alegra mucho, Sofía! I’m so proud of you, you’ve always been sociable.”

Jullianna bit back a nervous laugh. Sociable? Oh if only Alejandra knew.

“Ven, ven, entra,” Alejandra urged, already reaching for Jullianna’s bag. “Here, let me help you with your bags. How did you even handle all of these by yourself? Ay, niña, siempre tan independiente.”

“Ven, ven, entra,” Alejandra urged, already reaching for Jullianna’s bag. “Here, let me help you with your bags. How did you even handle all of these by yourself? Ay, niña, siempre tan independiente.”

Jullianna followed Alejandra inside, murmuring a quiet thank you as the older woman hoisted one of her bags with surprising ease.

The moment they stepped through the grand double doors, Jullianna was struck by the sheer scale of the interior. High ceilings were all adorned with intricate wooden beams, and sunlight streamed through the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, illuminating the polished terracotta floors and elegant furnishings. The space was both luxurious and warm, with an undeniable Spanish charm in every corner of the house.

“Tu papá todavía está en Bélgica,” Alejandra informed her as they walked through the foyer, voice tinged with fondness as she mentioned Fernando. “But you don’t need to worry, he’ll be home right after the race. I’ll also inform him that you’re already home.”

Jullianna nodded, hiding her relief. “Okay. Thank you, Alejandra.”

They passed by a grand staircase that curved gracefully to the upper floors. Jullianna made a mental note of it, trying to remember the layout that Sofia had described. The last thing that she wanted was to get lost and raise suspicion.

“Deja tus cosas aquí,” Alejandra said, gesturing to a spot near the staircase. She smiled warmly. “I’ll go and prepare something to eat, I know you’re hungry after a long trip.”

Jullianna smiled back, grateful for the excuse to explore on her own. “Gracias, Alejandra. Suena bien.”

Once Alejandra disappeared toward what Jullianna assumed was the kitchen, she let out a quiet breath. This was her chance. She turned on her heels quickly and began making her way throughout the house, determined to familiarize herself with the layout.

Every room that she passed seemed to rival the last in terms of grandeur. The living room was massive, with plush sofas arranged around a stone fireplace and a large television mounted on the wall. Bookshelves lined one side of the room, filled with an eclectic mix of novels, biographies, and racing memorabilia.

The dining room was equally impressive, with a long wooden table that could easily seat twenty people. A stunning chandelier hung overhead, and the walls were adorned with tasteful artwork that reflected Spain’s rich culture, and a few expensive art pieces from famous painters that Jullianna can easily identify.

Jullianna then found herself wandering into a sunlit corridor that leads to what appeared to be a study. The walls were lined with trophies, medals, and framed photos of Fernando throughout his career. She paused as one framed photo caught her eyes—a framed photo of Fernando holding a baby in his arms. She quickly recognized the baby as Sofia—or herself, as everyone believed. Jullianna’s heart twisted slightly, she couldn’t deny the love that radiated from Fernando’s smile in the photo.

She didn’t know that there was a single tear that escaped her eyes, so she immediately wiped it away and shook herself out of her thoughts, and decided to move along. Jullianna eventually found the staircase that led to the upper floors, and step-by-step, she ascended, taking in the intricate wrought-iron railing and the soft runner underfoot.

The hallway upstairs was just as grand, lined with even more family photos and doors that seemed to stretch endlessly. “Okay,” she muttered under her breath. “If I were Sofia’s—my room, where would I be?”

She glanced at the guide Sofia had sent her on her phone, thankful for the clear instructions. A few doors down on the left, near the end of the hallway. When she finally reached the room, she pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Sofia’s room was very spacious and elegant, with a large bed draped in soft linens and pillows. One wall was entirely made up of windows, offering stunning views of the estate grounds. A walk-in closet and en-suite bathroom completed the space, it was very luxurious.

“Not bad, Sofia,” she muttered to herself. “Not bad at all.”

Jullianna took the time to roam around Sofia’s room, assessing every clothes and things she has, maybe judging a few outfit pieces that Sofia has. Their style when it comes to clothing is very different, both at the opposite end of the scale, but even though it’s not something that Jullianna would wear, she can make it work.

“Alright. You can do this, Jullianna,” she whispered, sitting down at the end of the bed. “You just have to keep it together. Breathe in, breathe out.”

The next day came. Morning light began to spill into the living room, the soft warmth brightening the white walls and casting a long shadow on the terracotta tiled floor. Jullianna walked in hesitantly, her steps light as she took in the scene. The large flat-screen television mounted on the wall was turned to a pre-race broadcast, showing a group of reporters passionately discussing the upcoming event. The whole room smelled faintly of fresh pastries and coffee, and the low hum of the TV added to the cozy atmosphere.

Alejandra was already seated on the plush white sofa, a wide grin spreading across her face when she saw Jullianna enter. “Sofia! Good morning! Come, come sit with me,” she said, patting the spot beside her.

Jullianna offered a polite smile, trying to suppress the nervousness bubbly in her chest. “¿Es…el día de la carrera?” she asked, recalling the Spanish words Sofia had insisted she memorize.

“¡Sí, exactamente!” Alejandra said enthusiastically, her face lighting up. “It’s the Belgian Grand Prix, and your papá will be racing today.”

Jullianna blinked, really unsure of how to respond. She hadn’t realized Formula 1 was so integral to Fernando’s life—Sofia hadn’t gone into much details about it during their swap planning, and in Jullianna’s defense, she’s not exposed in this kind of environment. But this was an opportunity to learn. She nodded and made her way to the sofa, taking a seat beside Alejandra.

On the coffee table in front of them, an impressive spread of snacks had been carefully arranged. There were small bowls of popcorn, sliced fruits, chips, and a plate of churros with a small dish of chocolate sauce on the side. Two glasses of freshly squeezed lemon juice sat next to the snacks, condensation dripping down the side of the glasses.

Jullianna glanced over the selection, noting how thoughtfully it had been prepared. She guessed that these snacks were all Sofia’s favorite treats.

“Alejandra, did you prepare all of these?” she asked, gesturing to the food.

“Claro que sí,” Alejandra replied with a proud smile on her face. “I always know that you love to nibble on something while we watch the race. Aren’t they your favorites?”

Jullianna hesitated for a moment before nodding. “Sí, sí. Gracias, Alejandra. It all looks very delicious.” she reached for a churro to keep up the appearance, dipping it in the chocolate sauce and taking a small bite.

Before long, the broadcast had shifted to the pre-race grid, and Alejandra’s excitement grew ever more. She pointed out the various cars and drivers as the camera panned across the starting line.

“Look, there’s your papá,” Alejandra said, leaning forward and pointing to Fernando’s green Aston Martin car. “He’s in eighth position today, it’s a good place to start.”

Jullianna squinted at the screen, catching a brief glimpse of Fernando’s face on the television as the commentator spoke about him. She nodded, hoping her feigned interest looked convincing. “That’s well…isn’t it?”

“Sí, very good,” Alejandra confirmed, her eyes glued to the screen. “¡Puede conseguir puntos desde allí!”

Jullianna tried to focus on the broadcast, but the flurry of information from the commentators was really overwhelming. They spoke rapidly, mentioning tyre strategies, DRS zones, and lap times—terms that meant nothing to her. She glanced at Alejandra slightly, who was fully engrossed, her hands occasionally clapping together in excitement.

As soon as the race started, the loud roar of engines filled the whole room, and the on-screen cars darted off the starting line like streaks of color. Jullianna leaned back into the sofa, watching as the camera cut from one car to another. Alejandra cheered every time Fernando’s car appeared, shouting words of encouragement as though he could hear her.

Jullianna, meanwhile, felt utterly lost. The cars all looked similar to her, their numbers and team liveries blurring together as they all zoomed around the circuit. The commentators’ explanations didn’t really help much, to her dismay. They had mentioned pit stops, overtakes, and track limits, but none of it registered in her brain.

During a commercial break, Alejandra excused herself to use the bathroom, leaving Jullianna alone in the living room. She seized the opportunity to grab her phone, quickly typing Formula 1 scoring system into Google. The first result explained that the top ten finishers earned points, with the winner getting 25 points and tenth place earning one.

“Okay,” she murmured to herself, scrolling further. “So, let’s see. Papá’s currently in P8, and it means that if he finishes in P8, he’ll get…four points?” Jullianna made a mental note, hoping that the information would stick.

When Alejandra returned, the race had resumed, and Jullianna did her best to appear engaged. She occasionally echoed Alejandra’s cheers, clapping along whenever Fernando completed a clean overtake. By the time that the race ended, Fernando had secured eighth place—started eighth and finished in eighth. Alejandra erupted in celebration.

“¡Lo hizo! ¡Fernando consiguió puntos otra vez!” she exclaimed, her happiness infectious.

Jullianna smiled, genuinely happy to see Alejandra so excited. “Estoy muy orgullosa de él,” she said, the words feeling a little bit more natural now.

Alejandra nodded, face still glowing with pride. “Tu papá es increíble. Siempre da lo mejor de sí.”

As Alejandra began tidying up the snacks from the coffee table, Jullianna leaned back against the sofa with a sigh, thoughts drifting away. Formula 1 was far more complicated than she had imagined, and the whole environment seemed very intense and all-consuming. She couldn’t help but think of how you must have navigated all of it, being married to someone like Fernando.

“It must take a lot of patience,” she thought to herself, her admiration for you growing.

She resolved to learn more about the sport. Jullianna knew that it was not just about cars, it was about understanding a significant part of Fernando’s life that she didn’t have the chance to get to know.

It has been a total of five days now of Jullianna being in Spain. The morning air was crisp, carrying a faint floral scent from the garden below as Jullianna sat curled up in a plush chair on the balcony. The blanket draped around her shoulders provided a sense of comfort, though it did little to settle the anxious thrum of her heart. The sunrise had been stunning—a gentle gradient of oranges and pinks melting into a clear blue sky, but Jullianna’s thoughts had been too preoccupied to truly enjoy it.

The balcony overlooked the sprawling estate, with its winding driveway framed by tall cypress trees. Jullianna’s gaze drifted to that driveway now, her stomach twisting into tight knots at the thought of Fernando’s arrival. She had not seen her father—Sofia’s father, in years, or perhaps, in Jullianna’s case, ever.

Her phone vibrated softly on the small table beside her, the screen lighting up to display the time. 9:07 AM. The sun was already high, casting golden light across the stone terrace. Jullianna sighed, stretching out her legs beneath the blanket. Just as she stood up, folding the blanket over the chair, the faint hum of an engine reached her ears. Jullianna’s breath suddenly hitched. She decided to walk towards the edge of the balcony, as she peered down, Jullianna saw an Aston Martin turn into the driveway, its polished surface glinting in the sunlight, and it came to a smooth stop near the entrance. As the driver’s side opened, there he was, her father that she had not seen in twelve years. Fernando Alonso.

Her heart pounded painfully in her chest as she took in the sight of her father—taller than she had imagined, his posture confident yet natural. Fernando was dressed casually, a plain white polo shirt, dark jeans, and sneakers. His hair was slightly tousled, and even from the distance, Jullianna could see the tired lines on his face, evidence of his grueling travel schedule.

The anxiety hit Jullianna like a wave, and she stumbled back from the railing, clutching her chest. Her breathing had quickened, and she immediately started the breathing exercises she had learned to overcome situations like this. In for four, hold for four, out for four, hold for four. She repeated the process, Jullianna’s trembling hands slowly steadying.

“Jullianna,” she whispered to herself, as if the name would ground her. “No. Sofia. You’re Sofia.”

Before Jullianna could regroup completely, a familiar voice broke the silence. “¡Sofia!” Alejandra’s cheerful call carried up from below. “Tu papá ha llegado. Ven, baja.”

The warmth in Martha’s voice was enough to make Jullianna’s chest tighten further. She took one last deep breath, trying to push down the storm of emotions swirling inside her. You’ve prepared for this. You’ll be okay.

“I’ll be right down,” she called back, trying to keep her voice even and cheerful despite the nerves clawing at her throat.

Jullianna glanced at her own reflection at the balcony door’s glass, smoothing her hair and adjusting her posture. Taking one final deep breath, she whispered to herself again, “Remember, you’re Sofia. Sofia Alonso.”

Then, she turned and headed back into the house, ready—or as ready as she could be, to meet the man that she had spent her whole life wondering about.

As Jullianna descended the stairs slowly, her heart was hammering in her chest. She could hear voices below—Fernando’s deep, commanding tone interspersed with Alejandra’s lighter and cheerful one. They were speaking in rapid Spanish, far too fast for her to catch every word. She tried her best to pick out phrases but only managed to catch something about a one month break. It was clear that they were discussing plans, but Jullianna’s nerves would not allow her to focus.

When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped, her feet rooted to the polished wooden floor. There he was, in the flesh—Fernando Alonso. His back was facing her as he gestured while speaking, the confidence in Fernando’s demeanor unmistakable—posture very relaxed yet purposeful. Jullianna found herself staring, taking in every detail.

This was the man she had seen countless times in photos, television, online articles, and in the news. The man Jullianna had imagined meeting more times than she could count, and now, here he was, standing just a few feet away from her.

Alejandra turned, her sharp eyes noticing Jullianna’s presence immediately. Her eyes brightened, and she called out cheerfully, “¡Buenos días, Sofia! ¿Ya te levantaste?”

The sound of Alejandra’s voice drew Fernando’s attention. He turned around, expression softening as his eyes landed on Jullianna. A wide smile spread across his face, and he greeted her in a warm, excited tone, effortlessly switching between Spanish and English.

“¡Buenos días, mi niña! I missed you so much,” he said, holding out his arms invitingly. “Come here, give your old man a hug!”

For a brief moment, Jullianna froze. Her emotions hit her all at once—a mix of awe, nervousness, and deep aching sadness she had not fully anticipated. This is him, she thought. My father. He’s real. He’s here.

Before she could second guess herself, Jullianna rushed towards him, wrapping her arms tightly around Fernando. The hug was immediate and overwhelming. She clung to him, burying her face into his chest as tears began to stream down her face. Fernando’s arms closed around her in a strong, comforting embrace.

Fernando chuckled softly, though his voice was filled with tenderness. “¿Por qué estás llorando, Sofí? Why are you crying, mi vida?”

Jullianna didn’t answer right away. Her emotions were too tangled, mind too flooded with thoughts to form a coherent sentence. She could feel the warmth of his hand gently patting her back, and his other hand lightly brushing her hair as Fernando tried to soothe her. Alejandra just stood off to the side, watching the scene with a pleased smile.

“Mira lo feliz que está contigo en casa,” she said softly, more to herself than to Fernando. “La casa es tan tranquila cuando ella no está.”

Fernando pulled back slightly, just enough to tilt Jullianna’s chin up with his hand. His smile was teasing, eyes glinting with affection. “You missed me this much, huh?” he asked, tone playful.

Jullianna wiped at her tears hastily, embarrassed by her reaction, but unable to stop herself from smiling. “I did,” she said, voice shaky but sincere. “I missed you so much, papá.”

His face softened at her words. Fernando used his thumb to brush away the last of her tears, shaking his head with a small laugh. “Well, I missed you too, princesa. But no more tears, okay? You’re going to make me look so bad.”

Jullianna let out a shaky laugh, nodding as she stepped back. She felt lighter now, though the weight of the moment still lingered.

“How was camp?” Fernando asked, leaning casually against the edge of a nearby chair. “Did you have fun? Or should I never send you away again?”

Jullianna laughed again, this time more genuinely. “It was great,” she said, careful to choose her words. “I made new friends this year and had a lot of fun. But I did miss being home.”

“Good,” Fernando said with a satisfied nod. “I don’t like when you’re away for too long. It’s always too quiet here without you.”

Alejandra chimed in with a laugh. ”¡Eso es verdad! I told her the same thing when she arrived from summer camp. La casa no es igu sin ella.”

Fernando glanced at Jullianna, expression turning more serious but still warm. “Well, I’m here now,” he said. “And I have a one month break before the next race in the Netherlands. So we’ll have plenty of time to catch up.”

Jullianna hesitated for only a moment before blurting out, “can I come with you?”

“Come with me?” Fernando blinked, clearly caught off guard by her question. “To the Netherlands?”

She nodded quickly, heart pounding. “Yes. I mean, it’s a whole month, and I think we should spend as much time together as we can. School hasn’t started yet, so…”

Fernando studied her with a curious expression, tilting his head slightly. “You usually hate traveling to races, cariño,” he pointed out. “You always tell me it’s too much flying from one country to another, and too chaotic.”

Jullianna swallowed, hoping her enthusiasm didn’t seem out of character. “I just…I think it would be nice to go, and I want to spend more time with you. One month is not enough.”

His eyes softened, and after a moment of consideration, Fernando nodded. “Alright, princesa,” he said with a small smile. “If that’s what you want, then you can come with me. But don’t blame me if you get tired of all the chaos.”

“I won’t,” Jullianna promised, smile widening.

Fernando just laughed, shaking his head as he reached out to ruffle her hair. “We’ll see about that.”

Lunch was set up on the sprawling terrace overlooking the estate’s lush gardens. The table was adorned with simple yet elegant dishes—grilled vegetables, fresh bread, and a flavorful paella that Alejandra had prepared earlier. Fernando sat at the head of the table, comfortably relaxed, while Jullianna sat on his right side, attempting to mimic Sofia’s usual confident demeanor.

Fernando glanced at Jullianna with an easy smile, breaking the silence. “So, Sofia,” he began, setting his glass down, “how about some karting later this afternoon? Just you and me. A little father-daughter bonding time at the karting circuit.”

The fork in Jullianna’s hand froze midair, scraping against the ceramic plate as it slid sideways. The unpleasant screeching noise seemed to echo in her ears, and she winced, immediately setting the fork down as she forced a smile.

“Karting?” she repeated, voice an octave higher than usual.

“Yes, karting.” Fernando nodded, clearly amused by her reaction. “I thought that it would be fun. It has been a while since you came with me, and you used to love it when you were younger.”

Karting? Oh no, no, no. This is bad.

Jullianna’s mind began to race. Sofia’s guide had not prepared her for this. The closest thing she had ever done to karting was bumper cars at the carnival, and even then, she was not that great at it. The idea of climbing into a real kart and navigating an actual track was enough to send her anxiety into overdrive. but Fernando was watching her, his expression warm and expectant. How could she possibly say no without raising suspicions? She swallowed hard, summoning every ounce of courage she had.

“Well…” she trailed off hesitantly, trying to keep her tone light. “I mean, sure. Why not? It could be…fun.”

Fernando’s eyes twinkled with delight at Jullianna’s response. “That’s my girl!” he said enthusiastically, giving her a proud smile. “We’ll head out in the afternoon. Who knows? Maybe you’ll finally beat me this time, huh?”

She let out a nervous laugh, avoiding his gaze as she fiddled with her napkin. “Maybe,” Jullianna murmured, heart pounding.

Okay. It can’t be that hard, right? It’s just like bumper cars…only faster…and on a track…with actual rules. Oh no, this is a disaster waiting to happen.

Fernando, obvious to her inner turmoil, continued talking, his voice animated. “We’ll head over in the afternoon once it cools down a bit. I’ll teach you a few tricks, and we’ll have a little competition. Sounds good?”

“Sounds great,” Jullianna replied, forcing another smile.

When lunch finally came to an end, Jullianna excused herself, retreating back to the bedroom under the guise of ‘freshening up.’ But in truth, she needed a moment to collect herself. Her nerves were already frayed, but reminded herself that she had survived switching places with Sofia and meeting Fernando. Surely, she could survive a few laps in a kart. What is the worst thing that could happen?

The car hummed softly as it sped through the quiet streets on its way to the airport. Fernando was in the driver’s seat, hands casually resting on the steering wheel, occasionally glancing in the rear view mirror to check on Alejandra and Jullianna, who were sitting in the back. Alejandra, always chatty, was in the middle of telling a story about one of her family members.

Jullianna, on the other hand, was a bundle of nerves. She tried really hard to focus on Alejandra’s stories, nodding at the right moments and forcing a polite smile, but her mind was elsewhere. Earlier this day, Jullianna had managed to sneak in a quick call with Sofia, desperate for guidance.

“You forgot to prep me about karting!” Jullianna had whispered urgently into the phone, pacing back and forth in Sofia’s bedroom.

Sofia’s voice on the other end had been rushed. “I’m so sorry! I didn’t think it would come up this soon. Okay, okay, listen carefully.”

What followed was a rapid-fire explanation about how to operate a kart. Sofia rattle off terms like throttle, apex, and breaking zones, leaving Jullianna guessing and more confused than ever.

“Wait, what’s an apex?” Jullianna interrupted, voice tinged with panic.

“It’s—ugh, it’s the inside curve of a corner where you need to turn. Just remember to break before you get to it, then accelerate out. That’s the basic idea.”

“Well that’s not basic at all, Sofia!” Jullianna hissed, glancing nervously towards the door to make sure that no one was eavesdropping.

Sofia sighed. “You’ll be fine! Just take it slow, follow papá’s lead, and don’t overthink it.”

Before Jullianna could protest any further, Sofia had abruptly said, “I gotta go! Dinner plans with—uh, never mind. You’ll do great, I promise!” then she hung up, leaving Jullianna staring at her phone in utter disbelief.

Now, sitting in the car, Jullianna groaned internally. She leaned her head back against the seat, closing her eyes in frustration. Thanks a lot, Sofia.

The rhythmic motion of the car and the faint hum of the engine eventually pulled her into a light doze. She figured an hour of sleep might help her reset, at least mentally.

Meanwhile, Fernando glanced in the rear view mirror, noticing Jullianna was resting against the window, face soft and peaceful in sleep. He smiled to himself, feeling a rare sense of contentment. It was not often they had uninterrupted time together, and he was really looking forward to the afternoon ahead.

As they neared the airport, Fernando lowered the volume of the music playing softly in the background. Alejandra, always the attentive one, leaned forward and whispered, “should we wake her?”

Fernando shook his head. “Let her sleep. She must still be tired, I’ll wake her when we’re boarding.”

The plane landed smoothly on the Asturias runway, the soft jolt waking Jullianna briefly before she drifted off to sleep again, only to be gently shaken awake by Fernando once they had fully disembarked.

“Vamos, Sofía, we’ve landed,” Fernando said softly, his voice a mix of excitement.

Jullianna blinked groggily, taking a moment to orient herself as she was ushered off the plane. The bright daylight of Asturias was a stark contrast to the dim interior of the cabin, and she shielded her eyes with her hand. From the plane, all of them moved seamlessly into a car that was waiting for them on the tarmac. The driver greeted Fernando warmly, and once everyone was settled, the drive to Llanera began.

The drive was peaceful and scenic, the lush greenery of Asturias that was surrounding them can be seen, looking like it came straight out of a painting. Jullianna was seated at the backseat, trying to appear calm despite the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface. Fernando, sitting in the front, chatted with the driver in rapid Spanish, leaving Jullianna to her thoughts.

It wasn’t until they pulled into the gates of Fernando’s karting circuit that Jullianna’s attention snapped to the present. Her jaw dropped as she took in the sheer size of the whole place. It was not just a track, it was an entire complex. The main building loomed impressively, with sleek modern architecture that felt welcoming yet very professional.

“Wow…” Jullianna murmured under her breath, wide eyes betraying her awe.

Fernando turned around to glance at her, a smile tugging at his lips. “You like it, princesa? It was remodeled while you were away for summer camp. A little piece of home here Asturias.”

Jullianna nodded, unsure of what to say. Little? This is anything but little! As they all stepped out of the car, a group of staff members approached to greet Fernando, their faces lighting up with genuine enthusiasm.

“Ah! Buenos días, boss!” one of them said, before their gaze shifted towards Jullianna. “Hola, Sofía! Been a long time, huh?”

She smiled politely, nodding at them. “Hola!” she replied, voice steady despite the sudden knot in her stomach.

Jullianna could tell they assumed she was Sofia. Their warm, familiar greetings made her feel both welcomed and uneasy—uneasy because what if one of them picked up on something off? But she forced herself to focus, mirroring the relaxed but confident demeanor she had observed in Sofia during their time at camp. Once the greetings were out of the way, Fernando gestured for her to follow him inside.

“I had the track closed for today,” he explained casually. “Just for us, no interruptions.”

The weight of Fernando’s words hit her. No interruptions. No distractions. Just me and papá. The idea should have been comforting, but instead, it magnified her anxiety. Inside, a staff member handed Fernando a black bag, which he opened to reveal a pristine racing suit. He then handed it to Jullianna with a proud smile.

“Here mi vida. Go change, the fun starts soon.”

Jullianna took the suit gingerly, its fabric heavier than she had expected. “Where should I, uh, change?”

Fernando pointed toward a nearby hallway. “Second door on the left. You’ll see the sign.”

Nodding, she turned and walked towards the changing room. Thankfully, she found it on the first try. When she opened the door, Jullianna was greeted by a spacious and clean room, with a row of lockers lining one wall with a long mirror on the other. Jullianna held up the racing suit, inspecting it like it was some kind of puzzle—zippers, straps, and padding made it all look more complex than it probably was, and she just sighed deeply.

“Calm down, Jullianna. Calm down.” she muttered to herself as she set the suit down on a nearby bench. “This is fine, okay? Totally fine.” she then pulled out her phone and opened youtube.

How to wear a racing suit. Jullianna quickly typed it into the search bar, scrolling through the results until she found a decent one—a step-by-step tutorial. The video began, and she started to follow along, pausing frequently to ensure she doesn’t miss anything. She slipped one leg in, then the other, zipping up the suit carefully.

“Okay, alright…not too shabby. I think I can be a racer someday, huh,” she murmured, smoothing down the fabric in front of the mirror. “Oh who am I even kidding?”

The gloves and boots were next, and Jullianna paused the video again to double check everything if she had put them on correctly. By the time she finished, she was feeling a mix of relief and pride. I did it. To be sure with everything, she turned back to the mirror again, doing a quick once-over. The suit fits perfectly, hugging her frame without being restrictive.

“And one last thing…” she clicked on another video, this time, it was titled karting for beginners. The tips were pretty basic—how to start, use the pedals, and steer, but even those felt overwhelming.

“The things that I go through.” Jullianna grumbled under her breath, closing the youtube app.

Satisfied that she was at least presentable, Jullianna took one last deep breath, patting her own shoulder, and whispered, “good luck and don’t die.”

Jullianna stepped onto the track, the warm afternoon now casting long shadows over the asphalt. Fernando stood nearby, adjusting his gloves, excitement unmistakable as he began to explain the basics of karting.

“Alright, Sofí, I know it’s been a while since you last karted, but you’ll pick it up quickly,” he said, voice light and encouraging. “It’s like riding a bike—you don’t forget.”

She nodded, forcing a confident smile. “Yeah…just like riding a bike,” she repeated, though her nerves were humming.

Fernando led her to the kart she would be driving. “I brought out your own kart, and checked it.” he said, patting the side affectionately.

As Fernando explained the controls, Jullianna focused intently, trying to absorb every word as much as possible. “I know it’s been a while, but just a refresher, this pedal is for the gas, this one for the break, and your grip should always be at nine o’clock and three o’clock. Always ease into the throttle—don’t slam it, and when you’re cornering, don’t break too hard, just enough to control the speed.”

“Yes, papá, don’t worry. I got it. It’s not like it’s my first time driving a kart,” she said, chuckling nervously as her heart was beating rapidly.

Fernando crouched beside Jullianna’s kart, inspecting it one last time. “I’ll go easy on you first,” he teased, flashing her a grin. “But don’t expect me to let you win that easily.”

Jullianna chuckled again, still nervous, as she climbed into the kart. She adjusted the seat and gripped the steering wheel, hand slightly getting all clammy. Fernando handed her a helmet, which she slipped on carefully, ensuring it fits snugly.

“Ready to beat your old man?” he asked, stepping back.

“Ready!” Jullianna replied, voice muffled by the helmet.

Fernando climbed into his own kart, matching the ones Jullianna was on, and started the engine with practiced ease. Jullianna followed his lead, turning on the power and feeling a thrill as the engine roared to life beneath her.

“Follow me for a few laps,” Fernando instructed over the headset built into their helmets. “Get a feel first of the track, and then we’ll race.”

Jullianna nodded, gripping the steering wheel tighter as she eased onto the track behind him. The kart felt different than she expected—lighter, faster, more responsive. Of course she wobbled slightly on the first corner, foot instinctively slamming on the brakes.

“Easy on the break,” Fernando’s voice came through, calm and steady. “Let the kart flow through the corner.”

“Right,” Jullianna muttered, adjusting her grip. She tried again, this time pressing the brakes more gently and allowing the kart to glide smoothly.

After a few laps around the track, Jullianna began to relax. The initial awkwardness fading as she found her rhythm, her confidence building with each turn. The sensation of speed was exhilarating, with the kart zipping along the track like an extension of her own body.

“Good job, Sofí!” Fernando praised. “You’re getting it.”

Jullianna couldn’t help but smile under her helmet. She admitted that she was really enjoying herself. Once Fernando was satisfied with her progress, he pulled over to the side of the track and gestured to her to do the same.

“Alright, now for the fun part,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

“What’s that?” Jullianna asked, even if she already knew the answer.

“The race,” Fernando replied with a grin. “We’ll do three laps, and the winner gets bragging rights.”

“Bragging rights?” she echoed, laughing.

“Trust me, they’re worth it.” he replied. They both lined up at the starting line, with Fernando counting them off. “Three, two, one, go!”

Jullianna floored the gas pedal, the kart surging forward. Fernando quickly took the lead, as expected, with his kart weaving effortlessly through the first series of turns. Jullianna followed close behind, determined not to fall too far behind. She focused on her technique, remembering Fernando’s earlier advice. Brake gently, accelerate smoothly, and stay on the racing line. Then, by the second lap, she was gaining on Fernando, and he was clearly impressed.

She laughed, her nerves melting away in the heat of the competition. Jullianna took the next corner perfectly, closing the gap between them. On the final lap, she saw an opening on the inside of a tight turn. Summoning all of her courage, she took the risk, slipping past Fernando with a bold move. With the finish line just up ahead, Jullianna pushed the kart to its limit, crossing first by a fraction of a second.

As Jullianna rolled to a stop, she pulled off her helmet, cheeks flushed and heart racing. Fernando parked beside her, laughing as he removed his own helmet.

“Well done, mi vida! Can’t believe you beat your old man!” Fernando exclaimed, pride evident.

Jullianna grinned, trying to catch her breath. “I had a good teacher.”

Fernando just laughed at her reply, and pulled her into a quick hug. “That was impressive. I’ll have to step up my game next time, eh?”

Jullianna felt really proud of her accomplishment. She had managed to hold her own, and for a brief moment, she forgot all about her nerves and the pressure of pretending to be Sofia. For now, she was just a girl spending time and having fun with her father.

After the race, it had been decided to take a rest for a while, and now, Jullianna is currently crouched next to the kart, nodding along as Fernando patiently explained the mechanics of the engine. He was animated, gesturing as he described how the karts power translated to see its speed, his enthusiasm contagious.

“You see this part here? This regulates the throttle response,” he said, tapping the side of the kart with a wrench.

Jullianna nodded again, her focus intense. “Okay, got it,” she murmured.

Her mind was still processing the earlier laps and how much she had actually enjoyed the experience. But just as Fernando leaned in to point out another detail, a high pitched shriek shattered the air, causing both Jullianna and Fernando to freeze. They exchanged confused glances before turning toward the source of the commotion—a young woman. She ran towards them at full speed, her excitement evident.

“¡Fernando! Estás aquí!” she squealed, voice shrill as she closed the distance.

Before Fernando could react, the woman threw herself into his arms, wrapping them around his neck and planting kisses all over her face. Fernando looked momentarily startled before managing a polite laugh, gently easing the woman off of him.

“Stephanie,” he said, tone a mix of surprise and mild discomfort.

Jullianna blinked, mouth slightly agape as she watched the whole scene unfold, processing everything even. The woman—Stephanie, looked young, probably a few years older than herself, with long, perfectly styled hair, and an outfit that screamed designer labels, which were all common brands but would not see you wearing. Jullianna could immediately sense the tension in the air, especially when she caught a glimpse of Alejandra standing off to the side, expression cold and disapproving.

Stephanie had finally decided to step back, with her hands lingering on Fernando’s arm as she beamed up at him. “I had no idea you’d be here today! You didn’t tell me you were coming home!” she exclaimed, tone overly sweet to Jullianna’s liking.

“I wasn’t planning to,” Fernando replied with a small chuckle, stepping subtly away from her. “This was a last minute decision.”

Stephanie’s gaze shifted to Jullianna, her smile widening in a way that made Jullianna’s stomach churn. “And who’s this cute little girl?” she asked, voice dripping with curiosity.

Fernando turned to Jullianna, placing a hand on her shoulder. “This is Sofía,” he said proudly. “My daughter.”

“¡Ay dios mío!” Stephanie’s eyes widened in an exaggerated display of delight. “I’ve heard so much about you!” she gushed, stepping forward and extending a hand.

Jullianna forced a polite smile, shaking Stephanie’s hand briefly. “Nice to meet you,” she said, voice carefully neutral.

“You don’t know how much I’ve been wanting to meet you,” Stephanie continued, words spilling out in rapid succession. “Fernando talks about you all the time! I wanted to visit you this summer, but you were at camp, and—oh, you’re even gorgeous in person!”

Yeah, bet you did do that. Thanks for the compliment, I totally got it from both papá and mamá, but mostly mamá.

“Thanks,” Jullianna said simply, overwhelmed by the onslaught of words and overly saccharine tone. At this point, she doesn’t trust herself to say more.

As Stephanie continued to chatter, Jullianna glanced at Fernando, who looked slightly uncomfortable, and then at Alejandra, who stood with her arms crossed, her disapproval practically radiating.

“So, what are you two doing here? A little father and daughter bonding time?” Stephanie asked, eyes farting between them.

What do you think, Cruella?

“Yes,” Jullianna replied quickly, tone more firmer than she intended. “Papá and I are spending time together.”

“Qué lindo!” Stephanie cooed, completely ignoring the slight edge on Jullianna’s voice.

Stephanie turned back to Fernando, launching into a story about something that happened while he was away. Jullianna could feel her own patience wearing thin. The day had been going so well, and now, this woman—stranger, had swooped in and disrupted everything. She tried to tune out Stephanie’s really annoying voice, but the exaggerated laughter and overly familiar gestures were grating on her.

Finally, Jullianna couldn’t take anymore of it. She took a step back, clearing her throat. “Excuse me,” she said, tone polite but curt. “I need a moment.”

Fernando looked at her with mild concern. “Sofí, are you okay mi vida?”

“I’m fine,” she said quickly, forcing a small smile. “Just need some air.”

Without waiting for any response from Fernando, Jullianna turned and walked away, heading towards the quieter edge of the circuit. Despite walking farther away from them, she could still hear Stephanie’s annoying voice in the background, but it all soon faded as Jullianna put distance between herself and the group.

Upon reaching a shaded spot near a row of trees, Jullianna let out a deep sigh, sat down criss crossed and arms folded to her chest, and leaned back on the tree. The frustration bubbled inside her. This day was supposed to be about her and Fernando, a rare chance to bond with her papá, and now it felt like she was competing for his own father’s attention.

The sound of approaching footsteps broke her thoughts. Turning her head slightly, Jullianna saw Alejandra making her way over, her expression was soft but tinged with concern. Alejandra stopped beside her, tilting her head to study her closely.

“¿Estás bien, Sofí?” Alejandra asked, voice gentle.

Jullianna hesitated, glancing back towards the circuit where Fernando and Stephanie’s figures were still visible in the distance.

“I don’t know,” she muttered, word slipping out before she could stop them. She sighed heavily, deciding to just let it all out. “Actually, no. I’m not okay.”

Alejandra’s brows furrowed. “Is it Stephanie?”

She nodded, voice growing more animated as she began to explain. “She just…she just ruined everything. This was supposed to be papá and I’s day, and then that woman shows up out of nowhere, clinging to papá like some leech, acting like she owns the place. I don’t even know who she is in our lives, but I can tell that she’s not even genuine.”

Alejandra nodded slowly, lips pressing into a thin line. “I thought you might feel this way,” she said quietly. After a moment of hesitation, she took a deep breath.

“Stephanie,” Alejandra started, “is someone your papá met at a charity gala a few months ago. She was very persistent, made sure to stay in his orbit, always showing up where she was. At first, I thought it was just a coincidence, but it became clear to me that she was doing all of it on purpose.”

Jullianna’s eyes narrowed, her grip tightening on her crossed arms.

“She began to visit the house not long after. Always unannounced, always with some excuse. She claimed she wanted to get to know the family better, but I could see through her act,” Alejandra continued, tone growing sharper. “She’s very good at pretending to be sweet, but underneath all that makeup and designer clothes…Está podrida hasta el fondo, mi chica. A manipulative woman who only cares about herself.”

Jullianna’s jaw clenched as Alejandra’s words sank in. “Does papá even know all about this?” she asked carefully, though a part of her already suspected the answer.

Alejandra shrugged, shaking her head. “Your papá’s not blind, but he can be too trusting. That woman really does know how to pull someone in, but I see right through her. She’s only after what she can gain from being with your papá—money, status, connections. Todo eso. Your papá is a kind man, but that makes him vulnerable to people like Stephanie.”

Jullianna blinked, she was stunned into silence. Her mind raced with questions, but one thing Alejandra said suddenly clicked in her brain. “Wait a minute. Alejandra, how old is she?”

Alejandra hesitated before answering. “Veintiocho,” she said, tone casual, as if trying to downplay it.

“What?!” Jullianna’s reaction was immediate, her voice was loud enough to make a few nearby birds flutter away. “That woman is twenty-eight?! She’s old enough to be my sister!”

“Yes, exactly.” Alejandra couldn’t help but smirk at Jullianna’s sudden outburst. “And she behaves like a spoiled child, that’s why I don’t trust her. Everything about her is calculated, from her clothes to the way she speaks. Esa mujer sabe jugar el juego.”

Jullianna felt her blood boiling now, anger mixing with her earlier disappointment. “And she’s been coming here? While I was at camp?”

Alejandra nodded again, folding her arms. “Almost every week. She claimed it was to ‘support’ your father, but I know better. That woman wants to attach herself to everything, and she’s made it clear she’ll do whatever it takes.”

Jullianna then looked back towards the circuit, where Stephanie was now all over Fernando, laughing at something her papá had said. The sight made her stomach churn.

“I can’t believe this,” she muttered, voice tight with frustration. “Todo el día está arruinado. I don’t even want to be here anymore.”

“I know it’s frustrating, mi niña,” Alejandra placed a reassuring hand on Jullianna’s shoulder. “But don’t let her ruin your time with your papá. That woman thrives on attention, if you ignore her and focus on what matters, she’s defenseless against you.”

Jullianna nodded slowly, though her anger and disappointment still burned in her chest. She looked back at the circuit, her mood now completely soured.

“I just want to go home,” she muttered. “I’m done with today.”

Alejandra sighed, giving Jullianna’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Come on, let’s head back. Necesitas descansar. Don’t worry about her, cariño. She’s not worth your energy.”

The journey back to their home in Madrid was subdued, the tension almost palpable in the air. Jullianna sat in the backseat, her face turned toward the window as the evening sun cast streaks of orange and gold across the countryside. Fernando glanced at her through the rearview mirror a few times, concern etched on his face, but he chose not to push it. Jullianna’s silence spoke volumes, and he didn’t want to risk saying something that might upset her further.

Alejandra, who was seated beside Jullianna, kept her eyes at the window, hands folded neatly on her lap. She had already decided that this was something Jullianna needed to process on her own. When they finally pulled into the driveway, Fernando parked the car and turned to Jullianna.

“Sofia, we were supposed to visit your abuelo and abuela today, but maybe we can do it some other time, sí?” his voice was soft, almost tentative.

Jullianna just gave Fernando a small nod, gaze still fixed on the floor of the car as she unbuckled her seatbelt. She then murmured, “okay,” before slipping out of the car and heading towards the house, with Fernando and Alejandra following suit.

Fernando sighed as he watched Jullianna’s retreating figure. “¿Qué le pasa?” he asked, turning to Alejandra. “She was fine earlier. Did something happen that I didn’t see?”

Alejandra hesitated, feigning ignorance. “I’m not sure, Fernando. Maybe she’s just tired, you know how moody teenagers can be—moods change so quickly. Give her some time, I’m sure she’ll feel better by tomorrow.”

Fernando nodded, though his worry didn’t dissipate. “Maybe I pushed her too much today,” he said, almost to himself. “It was supposed to be fun, but…”

“No, no, tranquilo,” Alejandra interjected, tone firm but kind. “This isn’t your fault. She just needs space right now, don’t overthink it.”

He ran a hand through his hair, brows furrowed. “I hate seeing her like this. She was smiling earlier, laughing even. Now…” he trailed off, shaking his head.

Alejandra offered him a reassuring smile. “She’ll be okay, Fernando. Trust me. Déjala descansar esta noche, ¿de acuerdo?”

As Alejandra turned to leave, Fernando called after her. “Wait, Alejandra, I won’t be home tomorrow. I have some things to take care of, but I’ll be back by the evening.”

Alejandra nodded. “Alright. I’ll take care of things here, don’t worry.”

“And…” Fernando hesitated for a moment. “Can you cook Sofia’s favorite meal tomorrow for breakfast? Maybe that will cheer her up a bit.”

She smiled. “Por supuesto, consideralo hecho.”

Fernando sighed, leaning back against the wall as Alejandra left the room. Despite her reassurances, a pang of guilt still lingered in his chest.

The morning sunlight filtered through the sheer curtains, casting soft patterns across the bedroom walls as Jullianna slowly blinked awake. She lay still for a moment, cocooned in the quiet of the house. The event of yesterday lingered in her mind, a heavy weight pressing down on her chest. She groaned softly, pulling the blanket over her head.

A sharp knock at the door startled her. “Sofia,” Alejandra’s voice called out, light but firm. “Breakfast is ready. Come down soon, okay?”

Jullianna exhaled deeply and sat up, the blanket falling to her lap. She stretched, joints cracking softly in the stillness. After taking a few moments to gather herself, she slipped out of bed and padded over the door.

When she got down, the house was quiet, eerily so, as she made her way downstairs. The faint aroma of freshly toasted bread and coffee drifted from the kitchen. Jullianna noticed Fernando’s absence immediately and glanced at Alejandra, who was tidying the kitchen counters.

“Alejandra, where’s papá?” she asked, voice soft.

Alejandra turned, wiping her hands on a dish towel. “He left early this morning. Said he had something important to take care of, but he’ll be back by evening.”

Jullianna just nodded slowly, her gaze drifting to the table. The breakfast spread was simple yet inviting—fresh bread, tortilla española, slices of jamón, pan con tomate, and a small dish of olives. It was distinctly Spanish, and Jullianna assumed that it was all Sofia’s favorite. She sat down without a word, her stomach grumbling faintly.

As she began to eat, she glanced at Alejandra. “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Alejandra shook her head with a small smile. “I’ve already had my breakfast, chica. This is all for you.”

Jullianna nodded again, her focus returning to her plate. The silence was almost oppressive, broken only by the gentle clinking of pans as Alejandra washed up. Then, after breakfast, Jullianna decided she needed a distraction, something to clear her head. So she went back to her room and rummaged through her suitcase, pulling out a simple one-piece swimsuit. Over it, she threw on an oversized shirt that fell past her thighs, providing just enough coverage to make her comfortable.

The pool had been a quiet haven during her stay, and she hoped for the same serenity this time. As she descended the stairs, her mood soured instantly. Stephanie was in the living room. She was perched on the edge of a plush armchair, scrolling through her phone, legs crossed elegantly. The sound of her clicking heels on the floor must have been what Jullianna heard earlier.

Alejandra, who was arranging some magazines on the coffee table, caught Jullianna’s eye and gave her a look, one that said, I don’t know why she’s here, I didn’t invite her. Jullianna sighed, shoulders slumping slightly. Stephanie, of course, noticed her immediately and squealed in delight.

“¡Sofía!” Stephanie practically jumped out of the armchair, her excitement so exaggerated that Jullianna instinctively covered her ears. “Oh my goodness, I was hoping I’d run into you!”

Jullianna fought all of her urges to roll her eyes. Instead, she forced a polite smile. “If you’re here for papá, you’re out of luck,” she said, tone flat. “Papá won’t be home until this evening.”

Stephanie blinked, her smile faltering slightly. “Oh, well, I didn’t know that.” she quickly recovered, brushing a strand of perfectly styled hair behind her ear. “But that’s fine! I can wait. We can hangout, just the two of us for the meantime.”

Jullianna froze for a split second, Stephanie’s words sending a chill down her spine. “Je vais laisser tomber,” she muttered quietly under her breath, turning on her heel and heading for the pool.

Behind her, she heard the unmistakable sound of clicking heels. Jullianna groaned inwardly as she realized Stephanie was following her. She stopped abruptly at the door leading to the pool, turning to face the woman.

“What are you doing?” Jullianna questioned, trying not to sound snappy.

Stephanie gave her a puzzled look. “I’m coming with you, of course! It’ll be so fun! We can sunbathe, maybe take some selfies.”

Jullianna stared at her for a long moment before sighing heavily. “Sure,” she said finally, tone dripping with sarcasm. “Fun.”

Without waiting for a response, she pushed open the door and stepped outside, the warm sun hitting her face. The pool glistened invitingly, but the thought of spending even a second more with Stephanie was enough to sap any excitement she had felt earlier.

“Ay dios mío,” Jullianna muttered to herself as she still heard Stephanie’s heels clicking against the patio. “La journée va être longue.”

Jullianna placed her towel neatly on one of the sun beds, the fabric a stark white against the bright blue of the pool tiles. She adjusted it carefully, ensuring no corner was left out of place, before tugging off the oversized shirt she wore over her swimsuit. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Stephanie perched on a nearby sun bed, watching her with curious intensity that made Jullianna’s skin crawl.

With deliberate calm, Jullianna folded her shirt and set it next to her towel, ignoring the scrutiny. Without a word, she walked to the edge of the pool, took a quick breath, and leapt in, her body slicing through the water before surfacing with an intentionally big splash. The spray of cool water arched through the air, some of it landing on Stephanie, who let out an exaggerated squeal.

“¡Ay!” Stephanie cried, jerking backward as though she had been doused with a bucket of water. She reached for a towel, dabbing delicately at her face and arms.

Jullianna resurfaced, brushing her wet hair out of her eyes and blinking innocently. “Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” she said, voice dripping with mock concern. “I didn’t mean to splash you, Steph.”

Stephanie glanced at her, the corners of her mouth pulled into a strained smile. “It’s okay, cariño,” she said, though her tight grip on the towel showed her irritation. “Really.”

Jullianna suppressed a smirk, knowing full well that Stephanie was seething because one of her designer clothes was splashed with water. With a nonchalant shrug, she swam towards one of the floaties bobbing near the middle of the pool. She grabbed it, resting her arms on the inflatable surface as she turned to face Stephanie.

Stephanie had settled back on her sun bed, legs crossed elegantly as she faced Jullianna directly. Her eyes scanned Jullianna for a moment before she began to speak.

“So, Fernando had told me so much about you,” Stephanie said, tone saccharine. “I had no idea how close you two were.”

Jullianna raised a brow, tilting her head slightly as she tread water. “Well,” she said, a faint smile playing on her lips, “that’s because we’re each other’s halves.”

Stephanie blinked, caught off guard by the response, but quickly recovered. She leaned forward, clasping her hands together. “That’s sweet,” she said. “I mean, it’s obvious how much he loves you. He talks about you all the time.”

Jullianna hummed, the sound of it almost dismissive. She rested her chin on the floatie, watching Stephanie with a calm that belied her irritation. Stephanie’s gaze flickered briefly, confidence faltering for a moment before she plastered on another smile.

“Actually,” she began, tone light, “while you were away at camp, your papá took me karting. It was so much fun, and—well, I hope you don’t mind, but he let me use your kart.”

The faintest flicker of annoyance flashed across Jullianna’s face, but she quickly masked it. “Oh, that’s fine,” she said breezily, waving a hand in the water. “It’s pretty normal for him to let someone ride my kart.”

Stephanie smiled, seemingly appeased, but Jullianna was not done. She let her lips curl into a sly smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re actually number twenty-nine on his list, you know.”

“What…list?” her smile faltered.

“Oh, you didn’t know?” Jullianna said, feigning surprise. She propped herself up on the floatie, her tone conspiratorial. “It’s just this thing papá does. Whenever someone new comes into his life, he always takes them to his circuit. It’s kind of his way of testing people, I guess. There was Paula before you, and then Francesca before her…honestly, I’ve lost track of the names. But if I’m not mistaken, you’re number twenty-nine, and twenty-nine is a lucky number.”

Stephanie stared at her, expressing a mix of confusion and growing irritation. “I…didn’t realize,” she said slowly, voice tight.

“Yeah, it’s just one of his quirks. I guess he really likes seeing how people handle themselves at the circuit, well in life, generally. Some do great, others…not so much.” Jullianna shrugged, pushing off the floatie and swimming lazily towards the pool’s edge. “I’m sure you’ve made your mark since papá decided to keep you around. But I always say, it’s none of my business if a man his age wants to make a fool out of himself. Although, maybe he’s changed and you’re the real thing, Steph.”

Pulling herself out of the pool, Jullianna stood, water dripping from her as she grabbed her own towel. She dried herself off slowly, the teasing smile never leaving her face as she glanced back at Stephanie.

“Oh, one more thing, Steph,” Jullianna said casually as she flung the towel over her shoulder. “If you’re planning on being with him in the long run, you’ll have to try a little harder. Papá’s got a pretty high standard when it comes to people he lets stick around.”

Stephanie’s mouth opened slightly, as though she wanted to respond, but Jullianna didn’t give her the chance.

“Well, it has been a pleasure meeting you, but I’ve got some things to do,” Jullianna said, turning towards the house. “Enjoy the pool, Steph. It’s all yours. Toodles!”

taglist : @qghosty , @seonghwaexile , @linnygirl09 , @tallrock35

[fieldofdaisiies]

A Bargain pt. 2

paring: Azriel x Reader | type: angst | words: 4,5k | warnings: this story explores a little darker themes like the loss of eyesight due to fire. thank you so much for beta reading @moonlightazriel 💛 here you can find part one (I'm sorry it took me forever to write the second part)

Heart rapidly thrumming against your ribcage, you follow the shadowsinger, listening to every step you take, your fingers not once lifting from the railing. 

Every sound, every scent, settles into you, making you hyper aware of your surroundings. Except for light and darkness there’s nothing your eyes can tell you, so relying on your other senses is what keeps you alive.

"We‘re almost there." Azriel’s low voice sounds in front of you but he seems closer now, no longer and having stopped so you could catch up with him. 

It‘s time now for the  doubts to come creeping into your mind at full force, making your palms grow damp and cold sweat break out on the back of your mind.

You know Gwyn will be here and you are safe, but you haven’t left the library in… you haven’t since you arrived here all those years ago.

Speaking of Gwyn—you feel her presence immediately when the first strays of sunlight fall upon you, warming your skin and making an involuntary smile appear on your lips. It has been so long without feeling sunlight on your skin.

"You came," Gwyn’s voice sounds beside you as her fingers gently take your hand into hers, and she guides you along. "I‘m so glad you did, although a little sour that it took Azriel to convince you and that I wasn’t persuasive enough." She laughs, a playful note in her beautiful voice that makes you join in.

Listening to her and the other priestesses sing has cured many moments where the dark memories threatened to reach the surface.

You allow her to guide you to a place where more people are, your mind tells you that, feeling the presence of at least ten other people. The other priestesses who begin to silently greet you, the warmth and kindness in their voice palpable.

"I‘m Nesta Archeron," the last female voice tells you. "I‘m Gwyn‘s friend and—"

"You won the Bloodrite alongside her. I have heard all the stories about you! It‘s a pleasure to meet you, Nesta Archeron." You are scared the excitement in your voice will scare her off or make her believe that you are strange, and for the first time in a long while you are happy you can’t see her expression. But she takes you by surprise, gently taking your hand into hers, the one Gwyn formerly was holding. 

"And I‘ve heard stories about you, Y/N Y/L/N. It‘s my pleasure to meet you." She is smiling, you can feel it and mirror her expression.

As you let all the sounds, the scents, the noises settle into you, you slowly find your grounding in the now new surroundings. You haven’t been here before, you know this, but somehow it is still part of your home. Both Gwyn and Azriel have explained exactly where you would be going and what it looked like — a training field for the Valkyries and the Illyrians.

A male voice, loud and commanding, shakes you out of your thoughts. It comes from somewhere further away and you remember it. You have heard it somewhere before. It‘s Cassian, the general of the Illyrian armies and Nesta Archeron‘s mate talking. 

He is giving some instructions that all make no sense to you before he claps his hands and people begin to move around you, shuffling into probably every direction. 

You can feel how your throat clogs up, making it hard to breathe and swallow.

Suddenly the doubts come back, making the back of your mouth ache.

Leave! Go back to the Library! a voice loudly says in your mind, making you want to move but your feet are you rooted to the ground. It feels like something is keeping you here, making it impossible for you to lift your feet—like an invisible pull that wants you to stay.

You feel like everyone is rushing around you, away from you, toward you, you don’t know. Your head starts to spin, fingers curling towards your palms in an attempt to steady yourself. It fails until—

A soft brush, featherlight and barely palpable makes the skin of you upper arm tingle. Azriel’s shadows, undoubtedly. 

He is close as well, you feel his presence before you hear his voice. 

"Are you alright?"

"I am!" 

He can sense the lie, you know it. You can feel it. He moves closer, stepping into you and his hand lands on your elbow. "Tell me, do you want to return?"

You want to go back down to the Library, but at the same time you also want to prove to yourself that you are stronger. That you won’t just give up. You can do this, you can face whatever Azriel has planned for you. You are a fighter.

You want to be strong. You can be strong.

"No…no, no I don’t," you splutter, knowing your voice is shaking as much as your knees. "I want to stay and try out what you have planned for me … remember we have a bargain." You lift your arm, the one he is not holding, wiggling it.

"I don’t want you to do something you are not comfortable with just because—"

"What’s my first task?" You swallow your worries, your doubts, the fear, amd now step even closer. There is really no distance between the two of you but the closer you are, the easier it is for you to read people. Your palm lands flat on his chest, feeling the fabric of his Illyrian leathers and the solid muscles beneath.

"You are here, Azriel, and so is Gwyn. You promised to keep me safe and so did Gwyn. I know I‘m protected and nothing will happen to me." You know and really want to believe it, but it is hard, and not yet completely possible. But that's alright, as long as Azriel believes you that you are alright. 

Additionally, you know a bit of nervousness is always healthy, without it you would do the most reckless things without a second thought.

At first you start with some grounding exercises—Gwyn helps you with them, while the Illyrians train with the other priestesses, but you can always feel a certain shadowsinger’s presence close to you. Taking off your shoes, you can feel the soft grass beneath your feet when you start on some grounding exercises. You‘re mostly doing these exercises for balanace in the first days of training and they really help — in all honesty, you start to like doing them more and more; your self-confidence grows.

You have been so afraid, so terrified of going outside, but slowly the tension starts to ease and you realise that your life has so much to offer that you would have missed had you stayed in the Library forever. 

You are very grateful for Azriel, and Gwyn. Without them you would have never gone this step. 

Especially without Azriel, and the bargain you made. 

Absently, your hand reaches for your upper arm, traces over the place where you think the tattoo is. Azriel’s fingers on your skin still linger phantom touch, and tell you where your bargain tattoo is. 

A smile appears on your lips as you allow yourself to enjoy the moment, until—

"I think we should go a step further today." Azriel‘s ever so gently takes yours into his, holding on lightly. "Of course, only if you want to."

"What does it include?" you find yourself asking, tipping your head back slightly so the sun can warm your skin again.

You may not be able to see anymore, but you can still feel everything and you will take pleasure in it.

"I want you to try out something, show you how good your balance already is. I want you to try and walk over a beam."

A beam!

"How far up is it?" The question immediately bursts from you.

You hear a small laugh from him before he answers. "Not that high and I‘ll always be by your side. Just like my shadows."

Drawing in a deep inhale and letting it fill your lungs, you decide to trust him. He won’t  let you fall, or get hurt. You know this.

"I won’t let you fall, Y/N.“ He squeezes your hand. "I would never let you fall.“

You want to trust him, you really do, but for a moment your doubts gain the upper hand. It is a huge step, and you need a moment to consider it. 

Inhaling deeply, you listen into yourself. Into your heart, the soft thrumming of it telling you that you don’t need to be afraid. Azriel is here for you, he will make sure you are alright no matter what.

So, you allow him to guide you over to where the beam is, a soft wind caresses your face as Azriel helps you climb up a few steps.

The wood is smooth beneath your bare feat, cool, when you take your first step onto it, not once letting go off Azriel’s hand. 

"Are you ready?“ the shadow singer asks beside you and you dip your chin, your jaw set so tightly you’re unable to answer. 

With another deep inhale, you once again steady your breathing, but the faint creak of the wood beneath your foot sends a jolt of unease through you.

Another cool breeze brushes your face, and then you take a step forward, now both your feet resting on the beam, one after the other.

Another step forward. Another brush of the cool breeze against your face. Your breath catches as you suddenly see a bright light in your vision and you’re taking right back to the fateful day. 

Fire. Nothing but unbearable heat and blinding light, like icy spikes piercing your skin. The brightness was overwhelming until everything went dark. Blank. Plain. No colour. No shape. No figure. Only darkness. And deafening silence.

Your steps waver, too slow, too uncertain, and your body starts to tremble. You loose your footing, slip, your weight tilts and your balance is lost. 

Panic spikes when you start to feel how you are falling and— 

Strong hands catch you. Your body is pressed against a solid chest as quick breaths escape your lips, your demeanour shattering, laying the panic within you bare.

“I’ve got you. Don’t worry, you’re safe,” Azriel says against the top of your head, his voice steady and low, but you can barely hear it over the buzzing in your ears. 

Your breath hitches and you bury your face in his shirt, hoping that listening to the soft thrumming of his heart will calm your own. 

But it doesn’t help. The memories are back, the fear you felt when you stood atop the beam brought back memories you never wanted to revisit. Hot tears spring to your eyes and sobs rip itself free, leaving your trembling lips. 

“Azriel, I’m sorry,“ you whisper and pull away. “I can���t. I can’t do this.”

Frustration coils within your stomach, and you step back lifting your hands to cover your face.

He reaches for you, however, tugging your hands away from your face and pulling you into him again. And you let him to it, let him embrace you in his warm, tight hold. 

“Don’t apologise. Never.“ You can feel him rest his cheek against the top of your head. “It was my fault. It was too soon, we should have given it more time.“

You don’t want him to blame himself or feel bad about the moment. You don’t even want to cry, it feels silly and excessive, but you can’t stop it. There’re so many unresolved emotions within you that you kept hidden and locked away for so long, sometimes it is hard to just stop them from rising to the surface and shattering through the shell.  

As your tears start to become less, and then sobs grow quieter, you can hear footsteps coming closer. 

A soft palm lands on your lower back and then in a calm voice, Gwyn says, “You’re allowed to be scared.“

You pull away from Azriel, so you can turn to her.

“You’re allowed to be scared, but today you must also be proud. About everything you’ve done, you’ve achieved in such a short time. I’ve fallen of the beam so many times even though I still have my eye-sight. You walked almost half of it without using your eyes. Y/N, when you go to bed tonight, I want you to be proud of yourself for what you have managed to do today. Don’t let the fear win the upper hand. Never!“

>>>>>>>

"You shouldn’t think about what happened today," Azriel’s deep voice sounds over the great expanse of the rooftop training area. It brushes your goosebumps-covered skin and you turn to him.

You‘ve heard him approach a while ago, his footsteps something you remembered very soon.

"I meant what I said, you shouldn’t be proud of yourself and look forward to doing better next time."

He is close then, so close you can feel the warmth of his body. 

"My step-brothers poured oil over my hands and set them on fire. I have never felt greater physical pain than that day. I grew in an abusive household with a step-mother who would delight in locking me into the basement for hours, sometimes days. 

"I remember often thinking that my life would end right there and then, that I didn’t have an ounce of happiness within me and that I would never be able to live a normal life."

He swallows roughly and the first tears fall from your eyes as his words, his revelation, sinks into you.

"And then I met Cass and Rhys. They showed me how good life can be, what love is and … that no matter what I should never give up. They showed me what I am capable of, the things I could do. They showed me my strength and I learned to understand it. I wanted to be strong, never weak again, never vulnerable again. I was strong and I was ready to prove it to everyone, especially myself."

Without a further thought, you reach for his hand, taking it gently into yours and squeezing softly. "Azriel…" 

The words die down in your throat. After everything he has revealed, you find it hard to answer him.

Gods, the things he has experienced… 

Your heart is crying for him too, loud and unyielding and a shiver courses through you—not from the cold of the evening wind, but because you can feel his pain.

"I don’t ever want to be weak again either," you whisper after a moment of silence, and close your burning eyes.

"What happened? What happened that day?" Azriel‘s voice is hoarse, as if he struggles to speak too.

"I was an apprentice at a locksmith near Sangravah. When the Hybern soldiers came they destroyed everything in their way." You need a moment to breathe as slowly the memories return—one after the other, and each more painful. 

"I don’t exactly remember what happened, but one male came close to me, turned to the fire I had just lit, put a torch in it and set the whole place on fire. I wanted to run, but couldn’t escape fast enough. The windows burst and the glass splinterd …"

You know he can imagine the rest.

"I‘m so sorry." His hand trembles on yours and you can hear the tears in his voice. 

"I was just lying there, everything hurt. I was at my lowest point until Morrigan found me."

You can hear him swallow, roughly, before clearing his throat.

"Do you trust me when I tell you that after our bargain is completed you will no longer feel weak."

"I trust you." And you really do. It‘s no lie. You trust him and you know yourself that the training, all the exercises you do for balance and to sharpen your focus, are beneficial for you and your wellbeing.

You blow out a long breath, tipping your head back, your eyes facing the sky above you, and despite not being able to see you know it is covered in a million stars.

"Speaking of the bargain," you begin and a sheepish smile forms on your lips. "You haven‘t completed your task yet."

"You really want me to sing for you?" He chuckles softly.

"It‘s part of the bargain, and you know what happens when you don’t fulfill your part." The smile turns into a grin.

"Well, so shall be it." Azriel tugs at your hand and together you sit down on the ground, so close your shoulder is resting against his. 

Do you think I'd give upThat this might've shook the love from meOr that I was on the brink?How could you think, darling, I'd scare so easily?Now that it's doneThere's not one thing that I would changeMy life was a storm, since I was bornHow could I fear any hurricane?If someone asked me at the endI'll tell them put me back in itDarling, I would do it again, ah, ahIf I could hold you for a minuteDarling, I'd go through it again, ah, ahI would still be surprised I could find you, darlingIn any lifeIf I could hold you for a minuteDarling, I would do it again, ah, ah(Francesca by Hozier)

For a moment you don’t know how to react, eyes wet with tears. His voice is more beautiful than you could have ever imagined and it touched your heart and soul. A shiver runs through you, not from fear or cold, but from the beauty of his voice and the words he sang to you. 

You swallow, and draw in a deep breath. Your fingers tremble and then you say, “Thank you.” You don’t really know what exactly you are thanking him for – him singing to you, the training, getting you out of the Library. Probably all of it, and your heart begins to glow. You know you are falling in love. Falling in love with the shadowsinger and it’s a beautiful feeling.

"Can I … I would like to touch you." Your eyes are still wet with unshed tears from how beautifully he sang.

A soft cough slips through Azriel’s lips.

"Your face. I would like to trace your features to create a picture of you in my mind," you immediately clarify when the innuendo in your request screams loudly at you in your mind.

He doesn’t answer, not in words, at least. His hand closer over yours before he brings it to his face. You feel the stubble on his chin beneath your palm, and then start to explore. Gently, you trace his eyebrows, his jawline, his nose and lastly, his lips.

He is beautiful, you know it without actually seeing him. Stunning, most definitely.

A sigh that has him parting his lips, fetches you back and you realise your thumb is still resting on his lower lip, no longer moving.

"Thank you." You pull your hand back, and heat flushes your cheeks. "I like you, Azriel."

There‘s a pause and Azriel doesn’t answer. It doesn’t unsettle you, you don’t expect him to say it back, you just wanted him to know. 

"I like you too, Y/N," he finally admits. Once again you can hear the smile in his voice. And the honesty. And you can feel how his hand reaches for yours again, gently taking it into his much bigger one, lacing your fingers. 

“What a coincidence,” you snicker, leaning into him. "And I like this." A small pause. "Being here with you on this quiet night."

Now, Azriel is the one to lean in, you can feel the press of his body against you and then he leans his head against yours. 

"I like this a lot too," he whispers and his voice sounds a little sleepy.

"Maybe we could do this more often?" Hope laces your voice as you pose your question.

With a small laugh he agrees and you know that you have never heard him so joyful before.

>>>>>>>>>

“Let’s do it differently this time.“ 

Azriel is standing so close, his chest almost touching yours and even though you have hugged him the day before, this feels different now. More intimate. Yesterday his arms offered comfort as you cried, today … it feels different.

“Close your eyes,” he murmurs. “Feel the way the wood feels beneath your fingertips. Listen to it, feel it, imagine it.”

You let your fingertips brush over the wood until you feel a much bigger hand wrap around your, its calluses scraping against your skin. Azriel is guiding your hand over the beam, slow and deliberate. 

“Think about how you feel, think about how it will feel beneath your feet, imagine yourself walking over it. Be in the moment and forget about everything else, about your fear.“

Easier said than done, you want to say, but you allow yourself to trust him, to follow his lead and let his words settle into you. 

Your fingers curl around the edge of the beam as your imagination sharpens. You have done a lot more grounding and balancing exercises in the days between your almost-fall and today. The confidence hasn’t returned fully, but partly and so you find yourself standing right next to the beam once more, ready to face it again. Soon. Not yet.

“You don’t have to see it. You just have to feel it,“ he whispers and he is so close you can feel his breath against your ear. “Be in the moment and feel it, every step. And when you’re ready, we’ll try again.“

You do as he tells you, almost as if becoming one with the beam. Underneath your palm you feel the faint humming of the wood, and become hyper aware of ever little splinter, every hole and every fibre.

Your breath evens out, your mind sharp and focused, the task ahead a clear vision within your brain and a sense of willingness fills you.

You want to do it. You want to manage walking this beam. Not for anyone but only for yourself. You want to prove it to yourself that you are ready, that you can do it.

And so, in a voice full of confidence, you say, "I‘m ready to try again."

A proud hum sounds from Azriel, his hand slipping away from yours so he can give you space to turn. He once again helps you climb the few steps, and so you find yourself in a similar position again as a few days ago. But this time you won’t let your fear win.

Your breathing steadies as you place one foot in front of the other and take a small break, balancing yourself in the moment, feeling the wood beneath your bare foot, becoming one with the obstacle ahead of you.

"I know you can do it," Azriel says from beside you, his presence as grounding as ever. "Don’t let your fear win. Never let it take the upper hand."

Determination takes root in your chest, and you step forward, each movement deliberate, strong and still careful.

"Use your senses,“ Azriel says. "You may not be able to see, but you can always rely on your hearing. On what you feel."

Your focus narrows, sharpening as you start to move with the beam — it sways and you sway with it. 

"That’s it!" Gwyn cheers from the other side of it. "Move with it! Find your rhythm."

And you do as told. One step after the other, always in balance, every movement in sync with your breaths. Your puls starts to hum —not with fear, but with confidence— as you walk, forward and forward until you stop. 

You stop and give yourself a short break to arrive in the moment. To grasp what is happening. You’re truly doing this and a smile blooms on your lips.

"Don’t overthink,“ you can hear Azriel say beside you and you give your head a small, barely there shake.

"I don’t,“ you hum. "I’m just enjoying the moment. I can do it!“

If he answers something, you don’t know because you start to walk again, driven by confidence and a fire within your soul that you thought has long died down.

You know it’s only a few more steps, you know it without Azriel having to tell you. You can feel it, you can see it in your mind. Every last step you take is measured, your muscles remembering every movement you practiced even though the beam starts to wobble. 

You won’t stop, you won’t give up and you won’t fall this time. You can feel a small shift, knowing that now you’re almost at the end the beam will start to sway even more. But you’re not afraid. You breathe through it, and keep going.

Until!

Strong arms catch you before you can take the next step, lifting you off the wood and onto the ground, a heartfelt laugh embracing you like a warm coat. "You did it, Y/N! You fucking did it!“

"I did,“ you breathe, and it sounds almost a little like a question. Like you can’t quite believe it. But then joy fills you, every fibre of your being and a smile breaks out on your face. "I did it!“

He takes your hands into his, squeezing them lightly and you can hear the smile in his voice when he says, "Yes, you did it“. 

There’s also pride in the shadowsinger’s voice and it does something to your heart. 

Bliss spreads throughout your entire body, raw and overwhelming, and before you can stop yourself, you rise onto your tiptoes and press a kiss to his cheek—or at least, to where you hope his cheek is. 

He stiffens immediately, you can feel it, his demeanour shifting. 

Azriel’s shadows start to swirl frantically around the two of you as heat flushes your skin.

“I—uh…” His voice falters, and Azriel clears his throat.

If you didn’t know better, you would say you could hear Gwyn snickering in the background. 

The smile on your face turns into a big grin, you just can’t help it. "Thank you, Azriel!“ You take a step closer to him again. "Thank you for helping me and showing me what I am capable of!“

"You don’t need to thank me. This was all your doing! I took no part in what you managed today!“

"But you did, Shadowsinger!“ you insist, closing the distance between you and pressing your palms flat against his chest. "You showed me how to find confidence in myself, you gave me strength and you … sang for me. So let me thank you! Let me show you my gratitude.“

"I sang for you because I wanted to, Y/N. And I helped you because I knew that there was so much you could do and that you have the strength to do something great,“ he hums and it sounds joyful. "But if you insist, will you allow me to take you out for dinner?”

tags (crossed-out I couldn't tag) : @juulle987 @marimorena06 @danikasthings @younxii @nightcourtwritings @mrofontaine @lunalilyf @whor-3-crux @tired-all-the-time @anni-was-here @j-pendragonx @hollyismentallyillhelp @famousbasementpainter @lena-davina @red-highlady @thesugatoyourtae @azrielsbabyg @aroseinvelaris @moony-thoughts @wrensical003 @cherryjain17 @moonfawnx @crushedcloudsx @devilsfoodcake22  @valeridarkness @mulansaucey @cynicalpotato95 @eerievixen @feyretopia @brekkershadowsinger @girasoli-e-sorrisi @kennedy-brooke @highladyofillyria @theworthlessqueen @marina468 @illyrian-dreamer @eos-princess @courtofjurdan @a-frog-with-a-laptop @insufferablebookaddict @cadiawrites @bookishbroadwaybish @tele86 @fuckingsimp4azriel @berryzxx

@cataclysmica @its-sam-allgood @sstrohma @sidthedollface2 @anuttellaa @vaf24 @arcticfoxxes @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @velarisnightsky444 @weirdo-fun

[heavywithourbabies]

“Fill me” She had texted him with the photo. She had been so pleased with herself. The angle was perfect. The finger biting was sexy but cute. Her pert tits on display with just enough of her pussy on showing to entice him. She had wondered if she should have shaved before hand and decided to dismiss it. A little bit of hair was, in her mind “kind of classy”. She would send these photos to him with similar messages to drive him wild. “Breed me?” , “ Cum and claim me” , and when she sent a particularly lewd photo of herself spread wide she added “Breed me daddy.” At 24 she was having the time of her life dating a man ten years older than her. Old enough to have a few gray hairs popping up but still in good shape and able to make her legs shake in bed. She had never told any of her previous boyfriends her breeding kink but when he divulged his pregnancy fetish she thought it was a perfect match. She could finally indulge the itch that she had never been able to fully scratch before. It was everything she wanted, passing out with his seed dripping out of her, a safe way to finally play…..until she started feeling sick at random times and for no obvious reason.

Her breasts began to feel sore and she couldn’t help but notice her pants felt just a little bit tighter. After the second missed period she went to the doctor who confirmed what she had been silently dreading. Somehow her birth control had failed. Congratulations. There’s a little bun in the oven. She cried in the doctors office while her boyfriend gently comforted her. He would take care of her. He would be there every step of the way. She couldn’t help but notice how many teeth he was showing when he smiled and said “You’ll look beautiful carrying my baby.”

She soon found out it was babies. Not baby. And that there was a big difference between having a breeding kink and a pregnancy fetish

“Fill me” She had texted. 8 and a half months later she regretted those words.

She could barely breathe with the weight of her achingly full womb and tits pressing down on her as she was on her back with him fucking her for the third time that day. She was exhausted and every inch of her new ample body ached. Her once pert breasts could now could only be described as bloated, uncomfortably full from the pregnancy and breast milk. So tender she couldn’t help but wince a little as the full flesh clapped against her globe of a belly with his thrusts. It might have just be in her head but she could almost swear she could hear milk slosh around inside of her chest when she moved. Both of the babies were wide awake from all the rocking and her gravid belly was quivering with their movements. She was so tired and swore there was no way she could possibly cum while feeling this huge and uncomfortable but over and over her own body betrayed her as she felt the waves of pleasure run through her and begin to peak again. She almost wanted to beg for him to stop. It felt good but her poor sex was so swollen and tight it was now almost painful when she came. “Please - “ She tried to say as the dam broke and she felt herself contract around his iron hard cock and gush all over him. That was new and unwelcome as well. Almost every night she would fall asleep a sopping mess, too tired to lift her now fat ass up to try and clean up the mess. Just as she started to come down just enough she heard him groan and his cock twitch inside of tender walls. “Oh noooo” She began to moan as she felt him spurt one thick hot rope after another and her body reacted in kind, flooding the two of them all over again.

He lay there with his arms wrapped around her monstrous belly, trying to soothe his babies as she tried to catch her breath. Why did she ever play with fire like this?

“God, I love you like this” he whispered in her ear and she couldn’t help but get goosebumps. “After the girls are born and we can…. I’m going to fill you again.“

[staenless]

Steddie lunchbox fic I joked about but then people liked it so now I'm. I'm write it now.

"Hey, Munson!"

Eddie ducked his head down before the blow could hit. Tommy Hagan was one of those men who never outgrew his highschool jock phase, and seemed intent on dragging the rest of the world into his football role playing; not so gentle head smacking included.

He blow never came, instead the heavy metal thunk of a lunchbox landed on his desk. He chanced an eye open, and took in the neat black tin box, no two boxed which stacked perfectly and were secured in place with a patterned cloth. He opened the other eye and instead looked to Tommy, waiting for some sort of explanation.

"the missus packed it up for me," the younger man explained, his eyes off to the side where some co-workers were gathering to make lunch plans, "real pain if I'm honest, how about you take it off my hands for me?" Then he grinned down at Eddie and clapped his should, too hard, like they were regular old office pals.

It wasn't like they were office enemies, per se, but Eddie had a distaste of Tommy and while the feeling certainly seemed mutual they were srupid enough to let petty distaste interfere with their pay checks. Eddie would certainly never do Tommy any sort of favour if it wasn't by obligation to his working contract, and Tommy had certainly phrased this as if it was a favor so... So Eddie instinct screamed to rebuff him.

Except it was lunch time, and Eddie was hungry, and he hadn't packed his own lunch because his fridge had probably three things in it max and he couldn't afford to go out to eat since most of his paycheck had already been dolled out to rent, his uncle, his savings, and he only had money for absolute necessities. Even as he sat in indecision he could feel his stomach writhing and slithering in on itself. Shit, had he forgotten breakfast to?

"Sure," he responded, and then quickly tacked on,"man." There was a moment of silence that made Eddie feel like he ought to crack a joke, but Tommy seemed to decide for them both that was a bit chummy, even for his sports team larping. Instead he landed a solid whack, right where the last one had landed, then spun around and jogged to catch up with the other Alphas on their way out to lunch.

The office had emptied out in the span of their conversation and now cubicles sat still with their roller chains sprawled haphazardly as if evacuated in some emergency instead of a quick shuffle in hopes of skipping the worst of the lunchtime queues. Eddie decided to forgo the company cafeteria and instead snatched a pack of cigs out his backpack and scooped up the packed lunch. He could eat on the roof, since the fire doors alarm hadn't worked since he was hired and nobody bothered going up there in the heat of the day.

It wasn't that Eddie was exceptionally antisocial at work, or loathed ALL his coworkers. He actually had a few friends, Jeff and Gareth in the IT department would tolerate him during lunch breaks, and they'd even met up a few times outside of work. They were cool, he liked spending time with them, might even call them friends in a month or two. But spending all morning on the top floors, in marketing and branding and surrounded by other Alphas, Eddie probably wasn't much fun to be around at the moment.

The corporate world and Alphas went together like honey and ants. The opportunities to compete and peacock were nigh endless, not to mention doing well wouldn't net you a hefty income for some extra peacocking on the side. Eddie wasn't like that, his Alpha didn't operate that way. So much so even he had been surprised when his second puberty hit and he dropped fang and knot. The kids at school had snickered and called him a half-bit Alpha, while others said he only presented that way because his sole guardian was a lone omega. It had hurt at the time, but looking back Eddie couldn't help but laugh. Maybe he was a half-bit, maybe he presented wrong because of some base instinct to protect his uncle. He certainly didn't prance around like the other alphas did, bickering and shoving like little kids fighting over a toy.

But maybe that was the joke Tommy was playing on him, Eddie thought as he popped the lunchbox and saw the note sat neatly to the side. Maybe Eddie was too much of a bitch-Alpha to get a mate, while Tommy with all his flouncing and team player make belive had someone waiting at home, making him lunches and writing sweet love notes signed with a kiss. Maybe the joke was to give Eddie a taste of something he could never have.

Goodluck with work today, please bring home some avacados for guac. Love you - Steve.

Eddie stared at the note in his trembling hand. He could smell the omega- Steve - from where his lips had pressed to the paper. Unmated. Surprising, but not unusual. Plenty of couples got married first, then sealed the bite later on. Some Yuppie thing that Eddie was far too romantic to entertain. If you loved someone, wouldn't you want that commitment forever? But the again, Tommy and his sneer around the word "missus" gave Eddie the impression he wasnt the "forever" sort. Further more, a male Omega? Most people were somewhat hesitant to be associated with one, if not outright hostile to their very existence. Far too rare to be ordinary, and far too Omega to be respected male Omegas were almost never on an up and coming Alphas radar of potential mates.

Eddie slipped the note into his pants pocket, and lit his cigarette before turning back to the lunch box. Black oval tins, two stacked and tied with a floral cloth. A bento, he realised, he'd seen it on the cover of house and home in the checkout line. The hot new craze in lunchboxes. Tha made him snicker a little. The floral cloth seemed odd, and stuck out against the black metal. The material was smooth and soft, like brand new. Huh. The tins themselves had some scuff marks, and one had a dent on its edge that spoke of a life of use. He set them down, side by side, on the laid out cloth. It looked fancy, but also surprisingly homey and inviting. It looked delicious.

The Omega- Steve had outdone himself. The top tin contained two halves of a prego roll stuffed to bursting with marinated shredded chicken. The meat was cradled between lettuce leaves to keep the bread from going soggy, and Eddie could catch sight of some glistening tomatoe slices in there. The second tone had an orange, peeled with each slice individual cleaned of any white hairy bits and laid on a bed of some gummy fruit candy. Apple sliced were laid in a separate tin, still shinning with lemon juice and not a spot of brown to be seen. Slid neatly into the side, half hidden, has the familiar pink white of coconut ice for desert.

Eddie could feel his mouth watering. Holy shit, did Tommy eat like this everyday? And if he did what was wrong with him that he'd give it up for some second rate slop at a restaurant? Breathing deeply he could smell the food, but beneath that something else, something tempting. Steve, his hands delicately pulling the chicken from the bone, slicing the tomatoe, cradling the bread as he buttered it, his nails catching and pulling off every white part from the orange slices. His hard work, his effort, laid before Eddie like some sort of worshipful offing. He felt high when he bit down on the orange slice, the caress of it's soft inner skin along his gums, like a kiss. The burst of flavour on his tongue, sweetness invading his sense so all he could see was orange orange orange leaving the bitter taste of citrus. He could taste, most importantly, beneath it all. God he could taste Steve. He could taste his love.

"Oh, thanks man," Tommy didn't look up from his computer as he said it, just kept tying away. "No problem man," Eddie mumbled back, eyes fixed on the lunchbox and he's straightened it on the other alphas desk. Every crumb had been kicked up, every smear of sauce sucked away. But placed gently, reverently, back in the top box was the love note. Eddie wanted to give Steve something in return, to thank him for sharing something so magical, so special with him. In the end he'd decided against it, could work up the courage to indirectly challenge Tommy like that. Instead, he'd pressed his lips tightly to where Steve's had once been, before returning it to its rightful owner.

The words Love You sat nestled in the tin as Eddie walked away.

Part 2 exists now

[wynnyfryd]

Trailer park Steve AU part 18

part 1 | part 17 | ao3

“I’m sorry I’m sorry don’t hate me I’m sorry, did it work? Don’t hate me. Did it work?”

“Dustin,” Steve barks. Dustin looks up, eyes bright; he's hugging Steve so hard it’s like he’s trying to fuse his face to Steve’s rib cage through his shirt. Steve scruffs him on the top of the head, rubbing his knuckles over his dumb baseball cap in a way he hopes is reassuring, and wheezes, “Can’t breathe, bud.” 

The kid takes a hesitant step back, fists still balled in the fabric of Steve’s shirt like he might run away. Mike’s cowering behind him, hunched in on himself and nervously eyeing up the nail bat.

“So you’re... not mad?” Dustin asks.

“Oh, I’m fucking pissed,” Steve smiles sarcastically. “Hope you used that Butterscotch wisely, dude, because it’s the only one you’re getting for the rest of the year. Also, you can kiss your full candy bar trick-or-treating plans goodbye.”

“What? No!” Mike starts to whine, but immediately shuts his mouth when Steve glares at him. Then Eddie swoops in behind them, clapping a hand on both kids’ shoulders and nearly startling Mike out of his skin.

“And, uh, for obvious reasons,” he says in an acidic sing-song, “you’re both banned from Hellfire for the next month.”

“WHAT?” 

Oh, this guy’s good.

“Eddie, what the fuck?!” Mike pleads. “We’re just about to get to the manor’s secret passage!” 

“Yes, and what a shame that your paladin triggered a hidden trap and got stuck in a faulty portal for the next four sessions.” 

“Oh, my god! This is— this is—!” 

“Payback?” Eddie sneers.

Dustin’s eyes are darting rapid fire between the two of them, and he elbows Mike in the ribs and hisses, “Dude, shut up before he kills us both for good!” 

“Oh, my god,” Mike says again, face twisting through all five stages of grief. 

“Oh, also,” Steve adds for his own amusement as he heads toward the stairs, “you two can clean all this camping shit up.” 

—

“You play a good game of Punish the Pipsqueaks,” Steve grins, walking side by side with Eddie. "That D&D ban? Ouch. Keep that up and the moms will start recruiting you for babysitting duty."

“Oh, boy!” Eddie smirks. “My dream finally realized.”

They get back to their cars, and Steve shivers a little, the cold finally getting to him now that he doesn’t have the fight or flight to keep him warm. He unlocks the bimmer and slides into the front seat; cranks up the heat, his hands impatiently hovering in front of the vents. 

Eddie catches the car door. “You’re really not going to punish them more?" he asks, leaning in, head cocked to the side. "I mean, no trick-or-treating sucks and all, but. Seems a little lenient, doesn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it does,” Steve agrees with a short laugh, “but see, the thing is, those two dumbasses are assuming that revenge is a dish best served cold, when actually?" He points at the house. "It’s a dish best served by Claudia Henderson.”

Eddie’s brows lift in question.

“I’m gonna call her tomorrow morning and say I caught them smoking at the bus stop.” 

“Jesus!" Eddie laughs. "That’s diabolical.” 

“And then I’m gonna suggest they do community service at the retirement home on Halloween instead of trick-or-treating, because Dustin’s weirdly afraid of old people.” 

Eddie's laugh turns to a cackle, all his teeth on display, and the car bounces on its wheels as he leans his weight against the door. “Oh, man," he exhales, wiping the corners of his eyes. "Remind me not to get on your bad side.” 

“Pretty sure we’ve only ever been on each other’s bad sides.” Steve’s joking, but Eddie’s smile slips a little, and Steve wants to take it back. Pluck the words from the fog of chilled breath hanging between them; tell him that they're not anymore, that they don't have to be again.

But then Eddie catches the bass line coming from Steve’s speakers and the grin comes back full force. 

“Hold the fuck on," he beams, nodding his head to the beat and hum-mumbling the melody as the words come back to him.

Following the footsteps of a red dawn dance, we are entranced. 

“Spellbound,” he sings, shaking his head in delighted disbelief. “I’m sorry, does Steve Harrington have a Siouxsie tape in his car?”

Steve’s face goes red. Fucking Robin. “If you’re about to talk shit about the music, I— I mean, I’m just the chauffeur, man, I don’t—”

“Relax. It’s not that, I just…” He raps his knuckles against the roof. Gives Steve a once over; smiles softly at whatever he sees.

“What?” Steve asks. Kinda likes how he has to crane his neck to look up at him.

“Nothing," Eddie murmurs, low and deep. "You’re just full of surprises, aren't you?"

Steve shivers again.

It seems to snap Eddie out of... whatever that was. “My bad, man,” he says, his voice back to normal volume. He apologizes for letting in the cold air and slips Steve’s jacket off, handing it back to him and shutting the door with a soft click, then he throws out a parting salute and skips off to his van.

Steve just sits there for a moment, feeling syrupy and dumb. Like there's whiskey in his chest, a full flask of it sloshing around behind his ribs.

His jacket smells like Eddie. Siouxsie croons in his good ear.

Spellbound, spellbound, oh-oh-oh.  

"Jesus Christ," he mutters as he cuts the music off. He drives home in silence, the song still ringing in his ears.

—

part 19

first half of tag list below the cut comment if you want me to add you to the next one

@heartsong18 @hellion-child @hiimlevi @hotluncheddie @jackiemonroe5512 @jaytriesstuff @littlebluejane @lololol-1234 @marklee-blackmore @melonmochi @messrs-weasley @mrsjellymunson @mugloversonly @nburkhardt @nerdyglassescheeseychick @noodle-shenaniganery @notsopersonalcharlie @novelnovella @nuggies4life @pending-dope-username @perseus-notjackson @ppunkpuppyy @questionablequeeries @remosdeerica @runninriot @sadcanadianwinter @shamelesspatrolshepherdcowboy @silver-snaffles @singmeyoursimpsong @slowandsteddie @slutforcoffein @solalasoforth @spookednsaucy @steddieas-shegoes @steddie-island @stevesbipanic @steves-strapcollection @taleah-bonnick @teatimeeverybody @th30ra3k3n @thealwithnoname @thespaceantwhowrites @thestarslittleking @thesuninyaface @trensu @violetsteve @wormdebut @yourmom-isgay @zoeweee @zombiecreatures

[tielmamon]

"The White wolf himself! It's an honor to finally meet the man Jaskier never shuts up about." Radovid gracefully presents his hand for the witcher to kiss. Geralt does not. Instead, he stares at the prince with an eerily blank expression and takes a step forward. Then another. Then another. Until Radovid feels the rough, painfully jagged texture of the cave wall against his back. He looks at the witcher, now looming before him in the shadows. Bright yellow eyes- those of a predator pierces through the darkness like a knife and stab through his chest like a cold chill.

"I'm sure you are well aware of my...fondness for Jaskier. We've travelled together for almost 25 years now. He is, in his own ridiculous words my very best friend in the whole wide world."

Radovid chuckles, which seems to be the wrong response because Geralt's eye twitches and the hand near Radovid's side curls into a fist so tight he hears the leather of the man's glove whine.

"S-Sorry, I didn't mean to-"

"Now, with that I must lay down a few things for you to remember, your highness. Lest you overstep and find yourself upsetting my bard." Radovid swallows, blood running ice cold.

"If I ever catch wind of you mistreating, manipulating, or abusing Jaskier in anyway, a few things will happen to you."

"First, I will find you, wherever you are on this continent and I will kill you. It will be a very sudden, painful and very violently death. A coach suddenly pushed off a cliff, an unexpected kikimora loose in the castle, poison in your morning tea that feels like acid down your throat. I don't know, haven't really decided yet."

"Then after that, I will watch as your spirit becomes vengeful and restless, transforming into a wraith- a monster born out of gruesome, untimely deaths. Then I kill you again, for the second time. This time not by my blade, but by my fire. I will burn you, and watch as your spirit, your very soul wails in agony, turning to ash at the sight of your charred, desecrated bones." Geralt leans in close, stopping just shy of the pale prince's hear and whispers.

"And that's not even mentioning what unspeakable horrors my daughter and her mother are sure to do to you beforehand." Radovid shakes under the cold intensity of Geralt's gaze. They both hear the bard in question singing just an earshot away from where they stood. Radovid flinches so hard that his back is scratched by a particularly sharp rock. Geralt, on the other hand mearly turns to the sound, smiling softly for a moment before facing the prince once again.

"Have I made myself clear, your highness?" His smile never leaving his face, Geralt bares his teeth to show the sharp canines that look more lion than wolf.

"C-Crystal." Radovid stutters.

"Geralt? Have you seen- Oh! There you are, dear."

"Hmmm" In a blink of an eye, the witcher is a considerable distance away from the terrified prince. Already walking toward the bard, Geralt claps a hand on his shoulder as he passes him to reach Roach. Radovid watches Jaskier lean against the friendly touch, beaming.

"How are my two favorite men in the world? Getting along well, I hope?"

"Oh, we get along just fine. Don't we, your highness?" He looks at him now with casual disinterest, but there was a glint in the man's eye. It sends a shiver up the prince's spine and he all too suddenly remembers the moniker the man used to have before Jaskier came along.

"Absolutely. "

[hiramaris]

Imma fight a man (but Imma find a woman)

Note: Saw this on TikTok and can't help but make a crack fic 😂 Btw, next chapter for Kiss It Off Me is WIP, and after that, I'll start with the request in my inbox.

Here's the link of the Tiktok if you want to check it out: https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6VajaMP/ (Though I'm not sure when's the Tiktok ban for the US so I'll just explain that it's a fanart of farmer and Haley doing the breaking dishes trend lmao)

The late afternoon sun painted everything in warm, golden hues as Haley and Alex stood outside the Mullners' house. Haley’s phone sat on a tripod, its lens aimed squarely at them.

Haley let out an exasperated huff, smoothing her sundress as she glared at Alex. "Come on, Alex! It can’t be that hard!" she snapped, hands planted on her hips.

Alex was hunched over, hands on his knees, panting like he’d just run a marathon. His red tank top was clinging to him, damp from sweat. He held up a hand, trying to buy himself some time. "Gimme a sec to catch my breath, Hay," he said, his voice strained.

"You’re acting like I weigh a freaking ton!" Haley fired back, the annoyance in her voice cutting through the quiet street.

"Yoba, Hay," Alex grumbled, straightening up with a wince as he rolled his shoulder. "You don’t weigh a ton, but we’ve been doing this stupid TikTok trend over and over! I swear, my shoulder’s about to pop out. Ow..."

"That’s because you’re doing it all wrong!" Haley shot back, throwing her hands up in frustration. "You look like you’re struggling to lift me! Me! I can’t have people thinking I weigh as much as a cow or something!"

Alex looked at her like she’d lost it, shaking his head. "How can I not struggle? You’re supposed to be jumping at the same time I lift you! That’s how this works—it’s all about momento or whatever."

Haley’s face twisted into an unimpressed glare, but her lips twitched like she was holding back a laugh.

"Momentum, you dungus!" she corrected, smacking his arm lightly. "Not ‘momento.’ Good Yoba, Alex, do you even know what you’re talking about?"

Alex blinked at her, then cracked a sheepish grin, scratching the back of his neck.

"Whatever," he muttered. "You know what I mean."

Haley let out an exasperated laugh, crouching down to pick up another plate they’d set aside. "I’m starting to wonder why I even asked you to help me with this."

Alex leaned back against the side of the house, smirking now. "Cookies. You said you’d bake me cookies if I helped."

Haley paused, narrowing her eyes at him. "And you’re not getting any if you keep acting like this is the hardest thing in the world."

Alex groaned, dragging his hand down his face. "Fine, one more time," he grumbled, stepping back into position. "But if this doesn’t work, I’m done."

Haley brightened instantly, clapping her hands together. "Perfect! Now remember, you have to time it with me. Don’t make me look like a sack of potatoes this time!"

The phone’s recording light started blinking as they got into position. Alex muttered under his breath, "I can’t believe this is my life right now..." but crouched anyway, ready to give it one last go.

Just as he was about to lift Haley by the waist, a familiar voice rang out from the path leading to the Mullners’ yard.

"Sup, fellas," you called, adjusting the straps of your russet backpack that were digging into your tank top. "Heard you two bickering all the way from Pierre’s. What’s the fuss this time?"

Alex straightened up with a groan, rolling his shoulder as though he’d just finished a wrestling match. "Ask this crazy woman right here," he said, jerking his thumb toward Haley. "Also, I really need Harvey to check this shoulder…"

Haley gasped, scandalized. "Who are you calling crazy?!"

"Anyway," Alex continued, ignoring her and gesturing vaguely toward the tripod, "Hay wanted to do that ‘breaking dishes’ trend on TikTok, but she keeps messing it up. And now I’m the one with a busted shoulder because of it."

"The hell you mean I keep messing it up—!"

Your brows furrowed in confusion. “Breaking dishes trend? What’s that? I don’t see any of y’all breaking actual dishes.”

Alex barked out a laugh, wiping a hand over his face. “Are you serious? Don’t tell me you don’t have TikTok on your phone.”

“Nah,” you replied with a shrug, setting your rucksack down on the porch. “Signal’s pretty crap on the farm, and honestly, I don’t use my phone much. Too busy keeping the cows from eating the chicken feed, you know?”

Haley groaned, throwing her hands up in disbelief. “Of course you don’t know what TikTok is,” she muttered, running a hand through her hair. “What kind of hermit are you?”

“Hey!”You said, feigning offense, crossing your arms with an exaggerated pout. “Just because I don’t spend my time doing this whole ‘breaking dishes’ thing doesn’t mean I’m out of the loop.”

“You are so out of the loop,” Alex said, smirking as he leaned against the porch railing, clearly enjoying himself. “Anyway, the trend is basically flexing your strength. The guy’s supposed to lift the girl on their shoulder like she weighs nothing. You know, it makes you look all badass while Rihanna’s ‘Breaking Dishes’ plays in the background.”

“Oh, I see,” you said, nodding slowly as the gears turned in your head. “So... does it require the person doing the lifting to be a guy?”

“Wait, what?” Haley asked, her voice rising an octave as she stepped back, sensing where this might be going.

“That’s not a bad idea, old Mac!” Alex cut in, grinning as he grabbed the phone on the tripod and adjusted the angle. “Camera’s rolling. Do your worst, Y/n/n!”

Before Haley could protest, you stepped forward and grinned at her mischievously. “Alright, Hay. Brace yourself.”

“Wha—wait, hold on!" Haley barely had time to react as your hands found her waist. With surprising ease, you hoisted her off the ground, smoothly maneuvering her onto your shoulder. She let out an uncharacteristic squeak of surprise, her hands instinctively grabbing at your shoulders for balance.

“Yoba, Haley,” you teased, steadying her as if this was something you did every day. “You’re lighter than you look. Guess Alex really is just weak.”

“Hey!” Alex protested from behind the camera, but the grin on his face betrayed his amusement.

“Put me down!” Haley squirmed, though her voice lacked any real heat. Her cheeks flushed pink as she realized the situation. “This is not how this is supposed to go!”

“Oh, come on. Isn’t this what you wanted?” you quipped, turning to face the camera as you easily adjusted Haley’s position on your shoulder. “Breaking dishes trend, right? I’d say I nailed it.”

“Y/n, I swear if this goes viral, I’m never letting you live it down.”

Alex barked out a laugh as he stopped the recording. “Too late. That was gold! You have to post it, Hay! Can she, Old Mac? Can she?”

You chuckled, glancing at Haley, who was still recovering from the whirlwind of events. “Sure. I’m fine if she’s fine with it,” you replied with a grin. Gently, you lowered her back onto the ground, her feet touching down as lightly as a feather. “Though… I think I broke her, Alex.”

“Yep, sure did,” Alex teased, folding his arms as he leaned back against the porch with a smug grin.

You laughed as you gathered your things. “Anyway, I’m gonna get going. Need to ask Clint about an update on my tools.”

Alex gave you a fist bump. “Catch you later, Old Mac.”

You turned to Haley, who was still standing there, looking like she wasn’t sure whether to laugh or give you another piece of her mind.

“Oh, and Haley?” you called out, smirking as you adjusted the strap of your rucksack. “If you need to do any more trends, my farm’s just down the road. See ya!”

With that, you strolled off toward the path leading back to Clint's shop, leaving Alex cackling on the porch and Haley staring after you, shaking her head but smiling despite herself.

****

Alex was practically doubled over, his phone in hand as he scrolled through the comment section of Haley’s latest TikTok. His laughter echoed through the room, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.

“Raw, next question!” he managed to wheeze out, slapping his knee for emphasis.

Haley, sprawled across the couch, groaned and threw a decorative pillow in his direction. “Ugh, stop it already! It’s not that funny.”

“It’s absolutely that funny!” Alex shot back, ducking the pillow effortlessly. “Do you even read these? These women are feral, Hay. And I’m not even talking about the ones thirsting over you. Y/n/n’s got her own fanbase now.”

Haley sat up, her cheeks heating as she snatched her phone to check the comments. Sure enough, there were a few decently wholesome remarks buried among the absolute chaos. But the majority? Feral didn’t even begin to describe it.

AND THE CROWD IS... taking off their clothes?

Born to ride, forced to scroll.

Ho is u single?

I have nothing appropriate to say

I can take both of them. Not in a fight 😏

Does the farmer girl do weddings? As like a bride?

Does anyone know if the farmer girl has tiktok?

Scrolling feels like a divorce

All ten fingers!

I told my parents about us btw

Weird way of proposing but yes.

Wuh luh wuh?

BOOM SHAKALAKAAAA

“Oh, and this one’s gold.” Alex scrolled further, nearly choking on his laughter. “‘I swear my pants were just on.’ Yoba, help us all.”

Haley groaned louder, flopping back against the couch. “I regret everything. I should’ve never let Y/n lift me for that trend.”

Alex grinned, leaning back in his chair with a smug expression. “Oh no, Hay. This is the best content you’ve ever posted. You better pray to Yoba that Y/n doesn’t open a TikTok account, or it’s game over for you. You’re cooked.”

Haley grabbed another pillow, this time fully intending to launch it at Alex’s face.

“Shut up!” she yelled, her cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that she couldn’t blame on the sunlight streaming through the window.

~~~~

A/N: Now that I think about it, this one-shot can be considered part of the Kiss It Off Me universe. The timeline's probably during summer.

taglist:

@joordynn

@taliiiaasteria

@iluvwomen01

@tekanparadiae

@slug-on-bike

@prlan

@mit-suri

@marvelwomen-simp

[selfloathingpoet]

No good deed goes unpunished.

Smoke filled the Hero’s lungs as they stumbled forward, legs moving shakily under them. The only thing that reassured them that they were still alive was the pounding beat in their chest and the blood seeping through the fingers. There was fire, everywhere, for as far as they could see. They flinched as they heard something smash to the ground, snapping them out of the shock. The city, their city, the one they had worked their entire life to protect was now crumbling underneath their feet. They looked around briskly, trying to see if they could find any face they would recognize, Superhero, Sidekick, Other Hero, someone! They fell to their knees, crying out in pain as the held their hand up to their face. All they saw was red. They could see fire reflected back to them in their own blood. It was all around them now, in their lungs, in their eyes, in their hair, their curls now frizzed out and blowing around them, tickling their face and waving around like a flag of surrender. They could feel it in their heart to, that burning voice telling them to “keep fighting!” or “get up!”

As they knelt next to the steps of the now burning town hall, they wished again that someone, anyone would come and help them. Come and save them so that for once could finally get just a moment to rest. Their prayers were soon answered in the most paradoxical way possible because when they looked up again they saw none other than Villain themself.

“Well well well…look at what we have here.” The villain drawled, their voice calm despite all of the chaos around them. But, the Villain thrived in chaos, the Hero supposed. Why shouldn’t they feel anything but serene in this tumultuous climate?

The hero tried to speak, but all it did was send them into a coughing fit. They pushed themself up onto their feet, catching their balance.

“St-stay away from me..”. The Hero choked out, sounding less like an order and more like a plea.

The villain winched, a false look of pity etching their face. “That’s quite the scratch you’ve got there.”

Hero gripped their side tighter, sneering up at their arch enemy “Why are you doing this, Villain?”

“Oh well you know what they say, no good deed goes unpunished.” Villain smirked as they made their way down the steps, careful to not slip on the Hero’s own blood. “And besides, wouldn’t want to miss that look on your face for the world..”

“No that’s not..you can’t just do this Villain.”

“Oh?” The Villains eyebrow raised “I cant?”

“You… Please Villain, don’t do this.” The Hero breathed out the words. They’d hardly ever begged for anything in their life. They knew it wouldn’t get them far, especially with the Villain. But..what else could they say?

“Oh! This is my favorite part!” The Villain laughed, clapping their hands together gleefully. “What will you beg me for, Hero? To spare your life? No…you’re much too selfless for that. Perhaps the lives of your team? The lives of the “innocent civilians” you’ve fought so hard to protect?” The Villain was mocking them, that much was clear. Although they couldn’t really tell with the ringing in their ears and their vision starting to fade. What would happen if they just…

“Please Villain, stop this! I’ll…I’ll do anything..Just please, leave them alone..” The Hero trailed off, their knees were now on the ground again, aswell as their hands. They were bracing themself, why was the world spinning so fast?

The Villain clicked their tongue, shaking their head. “Always the Heroics with you, Hero.” The Hero could feel a hand, gently petting their hair. “But, since you’ve asked so nicely..”

The next thing the Hero knew there was a hand under their knees and a hand on their back. They were being hoisted up right into the villains arms.

“It seems that you’re coming with me, dear Hero.”

And that was the last thing Hero knew before everything faded to black.

[ashblooddragons]

My Heart, My Ruin (Chapter 1/?)

Warning! implied marital rape at the end

25 ac Oldtown 

Rhaellas pov

I’m sitting next to Mama resting my head on her belly feel the baby move around. Kepus is getting married to a lady named Ceryse Hightower. I keep looking up at the ceiling as I love the art up there.

“Darling it’s time to watch and pay attention, the bride is coming down the aisle.” Mama says as Papa helps her stand up before he reaches over to pick me up so I can watch.

“I still can’t believe Father agreed to this, he’s only ten and three, barely out of boyhood and now he’s getting wed off?” Papa says he’s been saying that a lot lately.

When I see the bride I gasp, her dress is so pretty. It's made out of white shiny smooth stuff, green butterflies on her shoulders, and she's wearing a gold tiara with bright green stones in it. I hope one day I look that pretty when I'm married. I look down at the dress I'm wearing and smile, it's dark purple just like Kepus's eyes, and it sparkled when I was in the sun.

“There is nothing we can do, it is their child, it is their choice.” Mama says hushing Rhaena who is in our Nursemaid's arms.

“She is ten years his senior, wouldn't her family want her with someone closer to her age?” Papa continues. 

“Most likely, but he is a prince, what better match would they find?” Mama responds as she rubs her back, she does that a lot now that her belly is so big.

I look over at Kepus, he doesn't seem happy, aren't people supposed to be happy when getting married? That's what Mama and Papa say at least, so why does he seem sad?

Once the bride finally meets Kepus at the alter the Stepton starts warping ribbon around their hands. 

“What is the ribbon for?” I whisper to Papa, or I at least try. 

“It's symbolic, the ribbon is a way to show their union is strong, that they are now bound, tied together forever.”  For some reason, I don't like the thought of Kepus being bound to someone, to her.

I grow curious again when they start chanting the same thing “Father, Smith, Warrior, Mother, Mother, Maiden, Crone, Stranger. I am his-her's, he-she is mine from this day until the end of my days.” 

“Why are they saying the same things?”

Papa chuckles when Mama giggles at my curiosity, they always say I'm as curious as a cat. 

“They are swearing before the gods that they are now bound, married.” Papa explains rubbing my back when I start to pout. He must not realize I don't like Kepus being married because he says this instead. “Shhh, you can stand on your own soon darling.” 

Once they are announced husband and wife everyone claps and cheers loudly. It startles me and Rhaena causing Mama and Papa to try and calm us down as Rhaena screams and I start to cry. 

“I told you bringing them to the wedding wasn't a good idea.” Mama says trying to get Rhaena to calm down. 

“They were fine until it got too loud for their little ears, isn't that right darling.” Papa says as he kisses my head and rests my head on his shoulder covering my other ear with his hand. 

Papa's hand are soft, not bumpy on the palms like Kepus, I want Kepus's hands to hold me, not Papa's.

Maegors pov

I know the Lords and Ladies are cheering, but all I can hear is Rhaella's sobs. Must be too loud, she never did like large crowds or loud noises, let alone the two combined. I think to myself trying to to scream at the crowd to shut up.

“Are you ready for the feast, husband?” My now wife, lady Ceryse Hightower asks with a smirk. 

She is beautiful, I'll give her that, but there is no world where she could match the fire within me. 

“I suppose.” 

She doesn't seem to like my short responses, as she frowns but quickly hides it with a fake joyful smile.

As we walk out I catch sight of Rhaella, Aenys seems to be trying to calm her down. But she keeps shrugging off his touch, hopefully, she will enjoy the feast and festivities more than this worthless wedding. I swear I've caught at least five lords snoring in their seats, seems they found it just as hard to stay awake with the Septons hour long speech of love and marriage before I was actually married.

Once we make it out of the Stary Sept we climb into a carriage to wave and greet the small folk as they rejoice in this farce. 

“we didn't have the chance to truly yet to know each other, so I had a thought, what if we did a game as we ride towards the festivities?” Ceryse asks fixing her necklace. She doesn't seem excited by the idea, but I would much rather do this ‘game’ over sitting in uncomfortable silence.

“What sort of game?” 

“Hmm, hpw about I ask you a question and you have to answer it? This of course goes both ways.”

“Fine.” I say with a annoyed and resigned sigh.

“I'll go first then!” She says only to stop and think for a moment. “What is your favorite color?” 

The first thing that comes to my mind is Rhaella's eyes, those pools of lavender that just looking at makes you feel calm and at ease. But I can't answer with that, for it doesn't seem like he best way to start a marriage, by declaring I love to stare into my little niece's eyes. 

Then I turn to Rhaella’s hair, those wild pure sliver riglets. How you can always find, I imagine you’d only lose her in the snow they are that pure and uncorrupted, just like her. 

The last thought is how when Rhaella laughs her rosy cheeks almost become a true crimson. The way her laughter always sets off mine. It always makes the worst days better somehow. Always makes my soul feel like it isn't a pit of pure blackness ready to destroy everything dear to me, but instead, it has some joy yet to be dug up and found for the world to see. 

And when I look down at my crimson red jerkin I know the answer, I don’t even need to think anymore.

“Red.” 

“Oh? I find red too angry of a color, I much prefer the calmness of green. though I see the appeal it is one of your house cars after all.” Ceryse answers even without me asking her the same question. 

A talker it seems. I think dryly as she keeps rambling on, and on about what colors she deems gorgeous and the ones she deems not worthwhile and why. 

Once we finally make it to the Hightower I partially bolt out of the carriage to escape that woman’s gods forsaken chatter. How one could love the sound of their own voice that much is beyond me.

I take her hand out of habit, for I was always taught to take my mother's, Rhaella's, and now hers.

When we enter everyone cheers and I notice my brother cover Rhaella's ears leaning down to whisper reassuring words to calm you down. She squirms in his lap trying to stay calm but the way her little face frowns and petal lips pout I doesn't seem my brother is succeeding. 

“I heard you are quite close to your eldest niece.” Ceryes says as she smiles and waves at all who have come to celebrate in our union. 

“Yes, what of it?” 

She seems to flinch at my cold tones before answering. “Only that we both have that in common, we adore our families and would do anything for them.” She responds trying to stay cheery.

As soon as we make it to the high table my father begins a speech. The same speech he does at every feast. His nonsense of how we must stand as one realm and how unions between houses will further the seven Kingdoms prosperity. 

Every time I hear it I can't help but roll my eyes, these whole already know this, they don't need their King reminding them at every fucking wedding. 

I drown out my father hoping his speech will end. maybe it will bore me to death and I won't have to truly go through with this wedding? I think dryly until Rhaella leans over Aeny's reaching for me. 

“Kepus, I want Kepus!” She demands a loom of fury on her face. She must have been denied me too many times this eve. 

For the rest of the feast I hold my little niece close letting her play with my rings and cloak. It almost seems like everything will be fine again, like it's just the two of us in her favorite field to pick flowers so she can make flower crowns for me and her. But soon it crashes down, the bedding ceremony begins and Rhaella is taken to her chambers to sleep the night away, already having fallen asleep against my chest. 

The rest is a blur, all I remember is wishes for those woman to stop touching me, and once they did I have Ceryse undressing me. 

I lay the rest of the night awake trying not to think about how I still feel like a boy, not a man who must make children. A boy who shouldn't have been touched the way I was, I fight the bile that rises in my throat all night forcing it back down. I keep reminding myself this is my duty, this is what I must do for the good of my family, and I can not tremble, I can not be scared, and I can not hide from this anymore.

I turn my skin to steel, and my heart to stone. But try as I must, my soul will not turn cold, for Rhaella has already changed it for the better. 

And with that thought I turn onto my side and pray to the fourteen again that sleep will find me, and it seems this time they truly did hear me.

Series Masterlist

special thanks to @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I would be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @mmogurl @sachaa-ff @baybaybear1

[seros-girl]

dont worry darling AU

plot: katsuki bakugo & y/n, a happily married couple in the 1950s, live a perfect life. she’s a housewife, lives the luxurious life while katsuki works the 9-5. as pieces of their perfect life starts to crumble around them, y/n starts to see the reality of the situation.

warnings: mentions of blood, substance abuse, and sex!!

i will be alternating between the original script & the movie!!

part 1: welcome to victory!

dwd au: masterlist

a 50s song played on the radio in mina’s living room. you all laughed as you danced around in your expensive dresses. the men sat around as they watched their wives goof off.

you balanced a tray that had an empty whiskey glass on your head as you slowly danced and moved around, giggling.

“pour yourself a drink” eijiro says clapping a hand on katsuki’s back. “i will do that” he says nodding his head already pouring himself a drink into the whiskey glass.

he pops something in his mouth, chewing and nodding his head at something eijiro told him and looked at you with adoration as you continued dancing and giggling, twirling around slowly to balance the tray.

“focus look at me right here” eijiro says to mina as mina balances her tray on her head too, careful not to drop the whiskey glass.

"the shirt is weighing you down 'chako! just take the shirt off, take your clothes off!" izuku says drunkenly to ochako as she giggles and twirls around.

“i have it i have it i have it” mina says as she balances a tray on her head. ochako next to her balancing her own tray while smoking a cigarette.

you laughed as you balanced your tray on your head and slightly shimmering your shoulders towards katsuki as he laughs along with you.

“focus on me right here think of the-“ eijiro was saying and got cut off as mina’s baby bump bumped into you, knocking your tray off as you catched it before the glass could hit the floor.

ochako raises her hands in the air as a victory, cigarette in her mouth. “thats not fair the pregnant lady is drinking!” katsuki slightly slurred out as he points his fingers at you guys.

“winner winner cigarette dinner” izuku says leaning over to light ochako’s cigarette. “that wasnt my fault” mina says as you pick up katsuki’s drink and down it.

“thats my drink” he protests and you sit down next to him taking the tray off your head. “no she pushed it off my head” you pouted at him. “give this to me” katsuki said grabbing the whiskey glass and downing its contents.

“no but i can win! she just pushed it off my head” you said slightly slurring and leaning into katsuki. katsuki pulls you into his lap as he starts to babble incoherently and you follow him as he places a kiss on your lips.

"my balance was off because of the baby" mina defends as eijiro kisses her. "what baby?" ochako asks innocently as she walks off towards izuku.

he pushes you softly into the couch pressing kisses to your lips and cheeks smiling. ochako and izuku are dancing their hearts out as she holds a cigarette in her mouth, izuku holding onto a whiskey glass.

izuku’s cigarette must’ve gotten close to ochako’s hair cause he swatted away at her hair gently and ochako bursts out laughing. “youre gonna catch my hair on fire!” she drunkenly laughs as izuku joins her.

“honey if youre gonna flick the cigarette please do so on the ash tray cause its very hard to get out of the carpet” mina says to izuku as he tells eijiro “your wife is drunk she’s babbling nonsense right now and she’s pregnant and so she needs another drink to keep that baby healthy” he says confidently.

he gets closer to mina’s bump and says “she should think about the baby” and everyone bursts out laughing as you hold katsuki. “excuse me excuse me” eijiro says moving towards izuku. “did this come with the promotion?” eijiro asks lifting izuku’s hand to look at the ring as you and katsuki get up to inspect it.

“you know shoto did a ceremony its just like the one he had” izuku smiles as eijiro holds his hand. “so gracious look at this!” he says to katsuki.

everyone starts dancing even more as ochako turned up the music. izuku and katsuki are talking to each other and smiling and all of a sudden share a quick kiss as you and mina let out yelps of surprise.

ochako comes back from the kitchen with a tray of martinis balanced on top of each other. she softly shimmers her shoulders to gesture to the drinks. “this is for you and for you and for you and for you and these are for me!” she squeals in happiness gesturing to the three martinis left on the tray.

“those are all for you!” izuku says as ochako moves away with her tray. you and katsuki dance, a fresh drink in your hands. you wrap your arms around his neck as you softly kiss him.

“you reek like a sailor and you look like a pin up top” izuku says in the background but you and katsuki pay no mind as youre both in your own little world.

“you up for a ride?” he asks against your lips as you nod your head eagerly.

you and katsuki let out yelps of happiness as you drive the convertible in donuts, letting the sand around you dust up. you giggle as katsuki lets out fake yelps of help, laughing along with you.

as you look at each other you share kisses as you continue to drive in circles. you pull away and katsuki covers your eyes as you continue driving in circles.

“take us home y/n take us home!” he says letting go of your face and leaning in the passenger seat of the car as you drive it back to your lovely home.

you speed off in the direction of your shared home, drunk and giggling with katsuki sitting in the passenger seat. you turn back to the road and see someone standing.

you swerve the car in time to avoid hitting them and hit the brakes 50 feet ahead of the person. you and katsuki look at each other, the action of the car swerving and almost hitting someone sobered the both of you up a little bit.

you both look behind you and you manage to make out the person. "is that kyoka?" you ask katsuki. you lock eyes with kyoka. "of course it is" katsuki mumbles. "what is she doing out here?" you ask quietly. "she's a lunatic. oh my god" katsuki says running a hand through his hair.

you move to open the door as you put the car in park. katsuki watches you intently, slightly glaring. "she's all alone out there" you said and he stops you. "I'll call denki when we get home" he mumbles gently ushering you to close the door and shift the car into drive.

you speed off to the house and look in the left rearview mirror to look at kyoka again. you cant shake off the feeing of something is wrong.

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you get up, bright and early to start off the day. you wore katsuki’s white button up from the night before as you cooked breakfast for him.

the eggs sizzled on the stove next to the bacon. you created the perfect breakfast as katsuki comes in and pours himself a cup of coffee kissing your cheek as you smiled.

"remember there's the thing at shoto's house tomorrow for" he reminds you but you cut him off with a nod. "yes for the new couple, I'm making tuna noodle salad" you confirm looking at katsuki.

he gives you an off look, sipping his coffee again. "what?" he asks as you furrow your eyebrows at him. "it's just he doesn't like tuna" he says looking away and eating his breakfast.

"shoto?" you asked confirming with katsuki and he nods. "I know it seems small but I think these things add up when he's making decisions..." katsuki says as he trails off.

"i'll make deviled eggs then" you said shaking your hands and suddenly a tremor starts. it shakes the house as you and katsuki immediately start to hold the glass things in place.

it stops and you look at katsuki. "thats the third one this week?" you question, dusting your hands off on your apron. you look at the time, realizing katsuki is gonna be late for work.

katsuki heads towards the door and you block his way. "no you cant go" you said placing your hands on your hips. katsuki looks down at you, amused. "I forgot to tell you, that you're sick yea" you said nodding your head trying not to crack a smile.

"so you should stay home while i attend to you and kiss you and cook for you" you said as katsuki placed kisses on your lips everytime you listed off something. "bye" he says against your lips and he walks out the door.

katsuki leaves behind his breifcase and you curse, grabbing it and rushing outside. he sits in the convertible as the other wives send their husbands off to work. you give katsuki his briefcase as you kisses you, caressing your face.

you smile and pull away, waving bye. "make us proud" ochako calls out, cigarette in her mouth already as she waves off izuku. izuku and katsuki look at each other and smirk.

katsuki sticks out the middle finger, kissing it and izuku laughs. eijiro pulls out of his driveway first then goes the new couple, mashirao was it? then goes off some others you knew like hanta, tenya, and fumikage.

katsuki pulls out of the driveway next, trailing behind fumikage as izuku pulls out following katsuki. you sigh and look at ochako. she smiles at you and you smile back and head inside ready for a day of chores.

you clean your shared home. you dust off the pictures hung up in your home, yours and katsuki's wedding day, your honeymoon in sea island, etc. you do laundry hanging up katsuki's clothes in your backyard.

you stare at his white button up and smile. you inhale the freshly washed button up. you stare the white picket fence that separates the other house from yours. you spot kyoka, tending to their rose bush. white roses scattered on the grass, surrounding her.

you and the wives head out into town as the trolley driver, hizashi, drives you to the market and the shops. you make it back home with a load of groceries to make katsuki dinner. you piled them in and meet with ochako outside.

she hangs her laundry up as her kids run around the front yard. "don't point the hose at the laundry!" ochako scolds her 5 year old son as her daughter runs around giggling.

"was she drunk?" she says turning to you and you shook your head. "I have no idea. she didn't even move. we almost killed her" you said sighing out. "you're sure it was kyoka?" she asks and you nod confirming.

"who else would be standing in the middle of the desert in her pajamas?" you told her. "unwrap it from her neck toshi!" ochako says to her kids as toshi, short for toshinori, had the hose wrapped around poor little aiko.

you look at the moving truck across the street as you saw a short, frail woman talking with a guy. you saw her husband leave this morning, he was the first one out.

"have you heard anything about them?" you ask ochako as she looks over at the truck. "they're young apparently. mashirao and something" she says and you look at her.

"i guess she'll be my new best friend since you're leaving" you said playfully and ochako rolls her eyes. "don't worry izuku said katsuki's gonna get promoted and you'll be right behind us. what are you making for the party tomorrow?" she asks you.

"deviled eggs" you smirk and she gasps. "oh katsuki's gonna be CEO" she says and turns around to look at her kids. "that's it I'm calling him" ochako said kicking off her heels as she moves towards toshi and aiko.

"its why santa gave me his number" she said yanking the hose away from toshi. "were not doing it anymore!" the little boy fought back but ochako cuts him off. "he said I had to let him know if you were being bad" she continues to scold him.

"i wish it were up to me. i wish i had a choice" ochako continues and points the hose at the two kids as they shriek and giggle. they hide behind you and ochako only smirks. "you think I wont spray her?"

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷

you walked in inhaling and exhaling softly. you looked inside your fridge pulling out the ingredients to make a big meal for later tonight. You clean your hands, precisely and carefully, like a surgeon would. you scrub hard, getting in between your fingers before finally rinsing them off.

you cut the meat, nearly severing your thumb. it hangs off as you gasp, inspecting it. you push it back into place, turning the stove on with your uninjured hand, grabbing a pair of scissors, a needle, and twine. you clean the wound before doing anything, and you wince as it stings.

you grab the scissors, quickly sterilizng them over the stove's flame, along with the needle. you begin to suture yourself up, its almost like muscle memory.

your hands are trembling as you inspect your hand. did you just do that? you look around your kitchen, quickly cleaning up the blood and finish cooking the meal you had planned.

you set the table, candles and everything. you stood by the door, in your expensive dress katsuki just bought you. drink in hand ready for him when he walks in.

he walks in 10 minutes later, as you smile at him. "hi" he greets immediately moving towards you to hug you. "hi" you giggle out as you place a soft kiss to his lips.

you hand him the drink and take his briefcase and jacket to rest on the couch. "I made dinner," you said against his lips. "mhm, what'd you make," he said, kissing you. "steak, zucchinis, bell peppers, mashed potatoes, hm," you said, moaning in the middle of your sentence, as Katsuki's lips move to your neck.

he moves you to the table as you sit on the edge careful not to knock anything over. he gets impatient, knocking off all the food you made for him onto the floor. he hikes up your dress as you both moan into the kiss.

Katsuki removes his belt, pants coming down along with his underwear. he rips your panties off as he moves to finger you, prepping you. You moan as his fingers curl up, hitting the sweet spot.

He pulls out and quickly aligns himself with your entrance. You both moan as Katsuki slowly pushes in, bottoming out. You wrap your arms around Katsuki's neck as he begins to thrust, food on the floor long forgotten.

[xxnashiraxx]

WIP Wednesday!

Thank you for the tags, @verbenaa & @roguishcat!!! Your snippets were amazing and I can't wait to read more from both of you!! ❤❤

Here's a wip for the next and final installment of my BG3 Kinktober series! This one is developing a bit still, but I'm finally using the tadpole trope! I have yet to, and I'm sure it'll make an appearance in the main fic too, but I'm playing around with some ideas for this one and I hope to post it on Halloween night so please pray for me and for my free time to stay interrupted so I can post on time! 🙏🙏

Ofelia stares into her soup, slightly groggy.

The day had been long, full of fighting through a disgusting sewer looking for Jaheira’s old comrade- who turned out to be surprisingly nice, but it was still a sewer. Ugh. The bath she’d taken still didn’t feel like enough. Despite everything, her companions manage to find entertainment in the form of Scratch performing tricks to which they happily clap and cheer in their little camp beside the harbor.

“Is it not to your tastes?” Gale murmurs, hushed tones doing nothing to mask his question from the others around the campfire. She smiles softly, stirring the clear broth and noodles.

“No, it’s really good… I’m just a little tired from the day.” He offers her an understanding smile before Karlach knocks into him from behind in her bid to have Scratch chase the ball she holds aloft.

She pushes her utensil around the bowl, mind wandering to their resident vampire as vague loneliness distracts her from truly joining the others. Astarion had gone to his tent long before dinner was served and with a chaste kiss, he left her beside the fire, a glimmer to his eyes and a lingering touch on her shoulder. She had wondered if he wanted her to join him, but she hadn’t been sure. Usually, he’d just ask—this time he didn’t. So she’s stayed, catching herself almost falling face-first into her food a few times.

As the rest gather closer to the campfire, listening to Jaheira and Minsc tell stories of their old adventures, Ofelia starts to feel it. It begins as a tingle in her belly and a gentle onset of warmth that unfolds over her face and abdomen, making her feel overheated and flustered. At first, she blames the broth, wondering if she’s starting to get sick, until the sensation settles between her thighs and she inhales sharply.

“Ofelia? Is everything alright?” Shadowheart asks, but Ofelia doesn’t reply. Her heart starts to race, sweat breaking over the back of her neck, and she shifts in her seat to stifle the feeling but it’s no use. An ache, stunning in its force, unfolds below and she sets her bowl down on the ground with shaking hands. The tadpole chitters in her skull- a familiar throb beginning at her temples and she instantly knows what’s happening.

She feels him, his motions, the air puffing through his flared nostrils as his teeth anchor over his rolled-up shirt, long, deft fingers palming the hard bulge over his pants. She feels it as if she is him and she tenses when he unties the laces and lets his cock spring free as a quiet sigh of relief pours from his lips.

“U-uh yeah…” Ofelia looks up at Shadowheart, eyes misty and cheeks red. The half-elf frowns, holding the back of her hand over her forehead, and Ofelia jumps at the contact.

“You’re feeling a little warm…” Shadowheart continues, but Ofelia’s lost in the feeling of Astarion finally stroking himself, she can feel his stomach tightening and his fangs digging through the fabric into his lower lip as he holds back a soft moan. Sensations build across her skin, her forehead feverish and her mouth dry. She shifts on the log, holding back a soft whine as heat pools between her legs and the feeling of him swiping his thumb over the wetness gathering at the tip lights her nerves on fire.

She feels him set a slow pace, driving himself mad at the gentle rocking of his hips as he fucks his hand. Ofelia bites her cheek hard, eyes squinting shut as the sensations of relief clash with her unrestrained desire- frustration causing her to twitch and dig her nails into her arms. She tries to reach out, but there’s a strange wall up between them keeping her strictly in receiving territory.

“Ofelia…” The blunt edges of her teeth almost cut the tip of her tongue off when her jaw snaps shut, the sound of her name in his voice echoing through her mind and sealing her resolve. She fights the urge to make a sound of discomfort, more of his pleasant sighs ringing in her ears as she stands abruptly.

“I… don’t feel well. I think I’m going to lie down.” She says through gritted teeth as Astarion quickens the pace of his movements, her body flooding with a rush of heat that spreads from her core outward. Shadowheart looks vaguely troubled, as do the rest who’d looked up at the quiet commotion, but no one interjects. Ofelia manages to slip away, thanking whatever gods that Astarion had put his tent as far from the fire as possible- yet still very much in hearing range. She throws open the entrance to find him smirking up at her, the culprit in hand glistening gloriously in the candlelight. The sight makes her knees weak.

“You… did you do that on purpose? How come I couldn’t get through?” Her voice is hushed but measured and dangerous, his smile deepening as she steps fully inside.

“How else was I going to get you over here?” he murmurs, soft and seductive. She carefully lowers herself to her knees beside him as he idly moves his hand back and forth, maintaining eye contact as they remain connected. She can feel the twist of his fingers and the subtle flex of his wrist. When a soft groan echoes in her mind, she opens her eyes to blink in confusion.

“Was that only in my head?” His grin deepens.

“Correct,” He reaches up and pulls her down till her lips crash over his and he devours every little breathless sigh and tremble of her body.

“We haven’t touched like this in days… we’re too close to everyone…” She hums, soft as she can, unable to linger on his words as just the slightest touch of his lips to her neck sends chills down her spine. He undoes her bra and her nipples stiffen in the chilled air, unable to restrain the gasps that slip past her teeth as his fingers barely brush over them. She’s so sensitive… doesn’t remember ever feeling it this intensely before.

Perhaps it has been a while for them… they’d not done much else but fight through the Lower City for the last few days, and before that, it had been fighting to get to the gates and through Gortash’s Steel Watch. Which hadn’t put up much of a fight, since they’d been allowed entry at the cost of a sham deal. Her eyes widen at the mental count she’s gone through, the number eighteen shining in her vision as his soft tut slices through the realization.

“Eighteen gods damn days and I haven’t been inside you for a single one of them. I feel like I’m dying,”

No-Pressure Tagging you all!! @khywren @preciouslittlebhaalbae @ladyduellist @inkymoonbunny @elinorbard @justabiteofspite @kalmiaphlox @busy-baker @pinkberrytea (my love 🩷) and everyone else! Please, I can't remember anything this morning! 😭

[merrybloomwrites]

Through the Dark - Choose Your Own 1D x Reader

Summary: A summer thunderstorm has your anxiety spiking, but your husband knows just how to care for you and your baby daughter.

AN: This popped into my mind during a storm earlier. First I thought of writing it for Harry, then wanted to switch to Louis, and finally realized it could work for any of the boys. I've seen stories before written so that you can choose the protagonist, so I decided to try that! No names are used so you can choose which of the boys star in this imagine!

Word Count: 715

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You pace around your living room, baby monitor in hand, as you watch the summer thunderstorm rage outside. You’d been woken up fifteen minutes prior by a loud clap of thunder. After five minutes of tossing and turning, you knew that falling back asleep was not going to happen. Rather than wake your husband, you snuck out of the bedroom and began your patrol across the plush carpet of the main living space. 

The room normally feels cozy, a place decorated just perfect for your family. But now it feels dark, and eerie, lit only by flashes of lightning that cast shadows across the walls. 

Another streak of lighting flashes and you nearly scream as it brightens the space enough for you to see another person. Before you can panic, you hear your husband’s voice say, “What are you doing out of bed, love?”

After taking a deep breath you reply, “The thunder. It woke me up.”

“Pretty intense storm isn’t it? Can’t remember the last time I’ve seen one like this. Oh, remember our honeymoon? We got caught just as it started to rain and ended up absolutely drenched,” he says. He chuckles at the memory, then notices you’re quiet next to him, rather than laughing along.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, finally picking up on your current disposition. 

“I don’t know what it is, but this storm has me feeling really anxious. I used to love watching them, but now I can’t stop thinking about worst case scenarios,” you explain.

“You’re a mum now. There’s a tiny human that depends on you. That changes your perspective on a lot of things. I know it did for me. Are there any particular worries you have right now?”

“What if a tree falls and we can’t get to her?” you say, voicing your concern even though it feels ridiculous and far fetched. But your daughter’s just five months old, and she moved into the crib in her own room a few days prior. It’s already been a hard transition for you and the storm is just adding to your feelings that maybe it’s too soon. 

Without any judgment, he replies, “Her bassinet is still in our room. We could bring her back for the night, that way if something happens she’s right there.”

“Yea, that’s a good idea, let’s do that,” you reply. “But what if lightning strikes the house and it catches on fire?”

“How about you go grab our little girl and set her up in our room, and I’ll get a bag together with anything we’ll need if we have to make a quick escape, alright?”

“Okay. I like that plan. Just, don’t be gone too long.”

“I’ll join you in just a couple of minutes,” he assures you, pressing a kiss to your temple before setting out to complete his task. 

You go and gently pick up your daughter, and as you walk into your bedroom she starts to stir. It’s around the normal time she wakes up to eat, so you settle in the rocking chair to feed her. Having her in your arms instantly soothes you, and you're calm as you finish up and move to change her diaper. Just as you’re settling her back into the bassinet, your husband walks into the room and places a bag next to the door.

With your baby sleeping soundly, the two of you climb back into bed. You listen closely, and it’s quiet. The storm has ended.

Suddenly you feel embarrassed for your overreaction to a typical summer storm, and say, “I’m sorry for being so crazy tonight.”

“No, baby, you’re not crazy. You’re an absolute momma bear, thinking ahead and making sure we’re prepared.”

“I just want her to be safe. I need to protect her.”

“She is safe. And you do protect her. And you’re not alone. I’m right here. I am always going to do everything in my power to keep you and her away from any harm. I promise.”

“I love you,” you say with a shy smile.

“I love you too. C’mere, let’s get some rest,” he says as he opens his arms. You cuddle into him, and are lulled to sleep by the soft sounds from your sleeping daughter, and the beating of your husband's heart.

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Thanks for reading! If you liked this choose your own type of story let me know and I'll see about doing more in the future!

[axelsagewrites]

Sage, my dear! I was reading your Daemon fic's and they are just perfect!😘🤌🏽 (especially the ones with poc!fem reader, there are so few stories where the reader is poc/non-white in this fandom… And it's great to find this kind of representation, and yours are so well written!!!) That said, could I get a shameless smut Daemon x poc!fem focused on his rings, as if reader is very attracted to his hands and rings and even fantasizes about him fingering her and he notices and gives her what she wants please?

Daemon Targaryen*Rings

Pairing: Daemon x f!reader

Word count 2540

Warnings: flirting, teasing, hand fetish, rings, fingering, orgasm, nipple play, biting, smut 18+

Translations Zaldrīzesītsos – little dragon Ñuha qēlos – my star

a/n: first of all thank u annon ur so sweet <3 but also it should not be this hard to find poc ppl for my post headers smh i use pintrest but any other suggestions are appreciated

Masterlist Here

It felt like the small council meetings drew on longer and longer as the months moved by. Sure, the wine was nice but that was only because you had it imported from Essos yourself. Most of the issues these men babbled about were of little concern to you anyhow as you were only here to represent your families across the seas while these men whined about taxes and castles. The only pleasure you got from these meetings was catching your Daemon’s eye across the table.

In all your time in Westeros he was the only one you could stand, and you supposed it helped that he was the one you were betrothed too. The arrangement had only been settled last week and you smiled when you noticed the dragon ring wrapped around his ring finger, a gift you had had carved from Valyrian steel when your engagement was struck.

Your mind began to wander further as the men droned on about something they would never decide upon anyhow. While usually you would stare into the stars instead your eyes were focused on Daemons hands. How they lazily lifted the wine to his sweet lips, how his fingers trailed over the curve of the glass in his boredom, or how whenever he grew frustrated, he clenched them into a fist so tight you wondered if his nails cut his palms.

Some may worry about a dragon being violent or unpredictable, but you were far too distracted by how you could use their fire to good use. Daemon had recently begun to deck his fingers out in fine silvers and stones with multiple rings on each hand. When he learned any man of importance in Essos wore a ring on each finger, he slowly began to adopt the practise. Three on one hand, two on the other. Soon he’d have quite the collection, not that you were complaining.

You wondered what it would feel like if he would leave the rings on. How the cool metal would sting your skin when he grabbed your hips like he so loved to do. Or even how it would feel when his fingers slipped inside of you, bringing you to the edge with only one hand. It was almost a challenge to Daemon; learning what to do to make you turn to water in front of him. It was a welcomed challenged to you.

“my lady!” A sharp voice shocked you from your thoughts, your head snapping up with a bewildered expression you tried to cover but you knew you had failed from the way Daemon smirked holding back his laugh, “are there any foreign affairs this week we should be concerned about?” Otto Hightower asked with a pointed look.

“no, my lord,” you said with a tight-lipped smile. The man was slimy since the day you first were forced to make his acquaintance. “Essos manages to run itself quite well, no issues on our side,” you said as you sipped your wine before adding, “though I think the crowns payment for their latest shipments of silks from the east is still pending but im sure you had that covered my lord,”

Otto did his best to cover his sneer as he nodded his head, “of course my lady. I’ll even see to it myself,” he said, his eyes not wavering from your gaze leaving you both in a stalemate.

An awkward clap from the king himself broke ottos gaze. Ha, you thought, bet you there Hightower. “well, that’s everything for today then. Thank you all for your sage advice and council but you are all dismissed for now. Lord Hightower a moment please?” The king said, barely managing to stand on his own as everyone began to filter out the room.

You had always made sure to sit at the chair farthest from the king so your exit would be the quickest, but it did not stop Daemon from catching up to you as you reached the stairs. “my lady,” Daemon said, and you didn’t even have to look up to see the smirk on his face. “are you quite alright? You seemed distracted today?”

“my mind had elsewhere to be my lord but do not fret,” you said, matching his tone as you took his arm to walk down the stairs, “your future wife is not gone with the fairies quite yet,” Daemon chuckled at the way you had began to pick up the Westerosi phrases the longer you were at court but with no more evidence he could not protest the issue any longer.

When dinner rolled around Daemon had invited you to join his supper in his chambers with three of his highest-ranking gold cloaks. Something about ensuring you had friends in high up places who were good with their swords as Daemon had put it. You tried to join in with the conversation, but your mind constantly wandered, your eyes flickering back to your betrothed, his hands specifically that was.

It was a fascination you did not know you had until the council meeting earlier but now you were fascinated with each movement and each ring. “careful my lord your lady wife looks like she’s readying to rob you of your rings,” one of the men’s jokes snapped your attention back to them.

All the men chuckled, and you did your best to force one out, “that’d be rather pointless,” Daemon chuckled, flexing his fingers to show off his rings. Gods that were not helping the arousal growing in your stomach. “most of them were gifts from her, weren’t they ñuha qēlos?” Daemon said, his eyes flickering back to you.

It was like the wind knocked out your lungs for a moment as you stared into those lilac eyes, “yes,” you eventually managed to stutter out, ignoring the curious look from Daemon however luckily the rest of the men had drunk so much wine they hadn’t the faintest clue this was out of the ordinary for you.

“perhaps we should call it a night,” Daemon said after a moment, standing from his chair, “before you drink me out of house and home,” he laughed as he helped the men to their feet. You did your best not to embarrass yourself again as the men dismissed themselves, bowing goodbye to you in a way you would never get used to.

When Daemon finally shut the door, you turned to begin gathering the plates into a stack, ignoring how Daemons eyes were fixed onto you. “you were rather quiet tonight ñuha qēlos,” he said, leaning against the door with his arms folded over his chest, “something the matter?”

“no,” you said glancing back at him with a fake smile, “just tired from a long day,”

“tired?” Daemon questioned, not moving from the door. You looked back ready to lie again when you noticed him playing with his rings. Your movements paused, your eyes locking onto the way he twisted the ring around his finger. When you saw Daemon looked up you quickly turned your eyes. “you don’t look tired,” he mused as he pushed himself off the door, lazily sauntering to your side as you tried to keep yourself busy.

“how kind of you my lord,” you rolled your eyes, trying to put your walls up when you felt his hand wrap around your wrist. “my lord- “

“we have servants to clean,” Daemon cut you off, pulling you to face him, your body just inches from his. You tried to think of something to say but you couldn’t as you felt his rings press into your wrist, wondering how they’d feel in other places. There was something about the way Daemon gazed down at you, his eyes unmoving that made your words stick in your throat, “if I didn’t know any better,” Daemon said as his free hand moved to hold your chin up, his lips now so close but so far away, “I’d say you were hiding something from me,”

“what would I have to hide my lord?” You said but now your voice could barely go above a whisper.

Daemon stepped in closer, his body now flush against yours, “I’ve never seen you so quiet. Tell me zaldrīzesītsos,” he mused, leaning down till his lips brushed against your ear, “what has been on that pretty little mind all day?” He whispered, before gently kissing your ear.

“nothing,” you said but you could not hide the shakiness in your voice.

Daemons hands moved to wrap around your waist, pulling you into his chest, “you can tell me ñuha qēlos. After all who am I to judge for what the heart wants,” he said, moving to look you in the eyes once more, “I only wish to help you, my lady. After all it is a husband’s duty to keep his wife pleased,” Daemon said before kissing the hollow of your throat, his head moving to rest on your shoulder.

“there is something,” you said after a few moments making Daemons head perk up. “its not important,” you tried to brush it off, but Daemon began to shush you.

His hands moved to cup your face, the rings metal feeling cool against your skin, “all your wants are important to me,” he said, his lips brushing against yours, “now tell me. What is it you want?”

“you,” you whispered as your hands moved to hold his wrists, “your hands, your fingers. I’ve been thinking about you all day,” you said, moving your head slightly to kiss the palm of his hand.

Daemon kept one hand on your face, the other moving to rest on your hip, “that’s all you had to say,” he said before you felt his lips crash onto yours. You couldn’t help but melt into the kiss, your body desperate from your mind’s thoughts all day. Daemon gripped your hip tightly, his other hand moving to the back of your neck so you couldn’t escape but you had no plans of that.

Daemon began to pull at your skirts, desperate to feel your skin on his. Your hands moved to the ties of your dress, making quick work of the fittings till you felt your clothes loosen. Daemon quickly pushed the dress down your shoulders, not caring as it hit the floor and got crumpled beneath his feet. His hands moved to your ass, squeezing it harshly making you gasp into the kiss as you felt the cold metal digging in.

You began to tug on his shirt and Daemon wasted no time in breaking the kiss to pull of his own clothes. You moved back, sitting on the table as you watched him undress till, he was bare in front of you. Your hands roamed his chest as he finally pulled himself free of his trousers. As Daemon went to reach for his hands to pull his rings off your hand shot out to grab his wrist. Daemon looked at you, his eyebrow raised in confusion, “leave them on,” you said, kissing his shoulder as your hand moved to hold his. “I like the rings,” you said as you traced the precious metals.

Daemon chuckled as he stepped closer, his hands moving to grab your hips, “good to know,” he hummed, his head dipping to capture your lips again.

He squeezed the flesh of your hips, the rings digging in making you moan into the kiss. Deciding to test the waters Daemon placed a soft spank on your ass, loving the way you gasped when the cool metal bit your flesh. After a few moments of enjoying himself and your noises Daemon turned his attention to you.

Your breathing caught as you felt on of his hands trail over the tops of your thigh, inching closer and closer to your wetness where you craved his touch. You whined when you felt him swipe a finger up your folds and heard him chuckle at your noises. “someone’s eager,” he said, his lips moving from yours to your jaw, kissing down your neck as he teased his fingers around your hole.

“please,” you whined as Daemon bit down on your collarbone, “I need you,” you whined as he pushed two fingers in, feeling the way he was already stretching you out. Daemon began to leave dark purple hickeys on your chest, knowing exactly where to leave them to avoid being caught. As Daemon began to curl his fingers you gasped when you felt his rings, loving the way the cool feeling against your wet skin.

“so desperate,” Daemon muttered, kissing down your chest, “so perfect,” he mumbled as he kissed around your nipple making it harden. Daemon chuckled as he saw your body’s reaction before taking in his mouth, sucking on it gently at first.

Your hand moved to his hair, tugging on his silver strands as you felt a familiar knot tighten in your stomach. Daemons spare hand moved to your free breast, squeezing it harshly making his rings press into the soft skin and making you moan again. “such pretty noises,” Daemon said, releasing your nipple for only a moment before he began sucking on it harder, his teeth grazing the sensitive bud.

You gasped as Daemon softly bit your nipple. You squirmed as Daemon moved his hand, repositioning it so his thumb could rub soft circles into your aching clit. “Daemon,” you whined as you felt yourself get closer with each pump of his fingers.

“look at you,” Daemon said before biting your chest making you gasp and your hips buck, “do you like when I fuck you with my fingers?” He asked, his lips ghosting over your skin.

“yes,” you whined, desperate for his lips against you again.

“you wanna come undone on my fingers, don’t you?” He said, nipping at your skin, his fingers curling to find an all too familiar spot making your body jerk.

You could feel your orgasm approaching, threatening to spill when he gave the command, “yes,” you moaned, not caring how loud it was as your fingers grasped his hair. “please,” you whined as Daemon kissed your neck. “I can’t wait anymore,”

Daemon moved his lips to hover against your ear, his breath fanning your neck, “then don’t,” Daemon whispered, biting your earlobe again, “I wanna see you fall apart on my fingers,” he said, his curling precise and his lips sucking harshly on your neck. You couldn’t hold back anymore, your legs twitching with each curl of his fingers and rub of your clit before your orgasm crashed through your body, your hands clutching onto Daemon as you rode it out not caring how loud you may be.

As you came down from your high, your legs feeling like mush and your body sweaty, you fell into Daemons chest. Daemon stroked your back, kissing your forehead gently. “so, you like the rings then?” He said, a smirk in his voice.

You looked up, laughing slightly as you regained your strength, “I guess you could say that”

Daemon lifted your chin with a finger, kissing your lips softly, “I’ll have to buy some more then,” he said before pulling you to stand from the table, his arms wrapping around your waist, “but im not done with you yet zaldrīzesītsos,”

Taglist: @clairacassidy @valeskafics @starkleila

[mci-writing]

Can I request a senku x fem reader where she goes with the group to the cave instead of magma and her and senku end up cuddling for warmth and senku is all flustered by it.

Gonna slight change this up a little, anon. I kinda sat on this knowing I wanted to write something like it, but never knowing where to take it,,, BUT it's cold outside and season 3 is up to the infiltration arc so Imma have a little bit of fall fun 🥹

Lowkey has the same reader from Bandages in mind tbh but I also like the idea of Senkuu calling his s/o Dragonfruit so-

If you’ve got a couple dollars to spare, here’s my kofi (I am a struggling college student 😳)

By Night in Caves (Ishigami Senkuu x Fem!Reader)

A figure shivers as a sharp wind blows past them. The leaves starting to change shades and the cold breeze in the air are enough indication of the fall season. While most people would probably be snuggled up in their homes under a nice quilt or a huge blanket, (Y/n) was out with Senkuu and searching for God knows what. She could probably ask him what day it was and he'd know to a T, but she'd have to wait until after their current expedition.

She did bring the Stone World equivalent of a light jacket, but the night air was starting to make it a little useless the longer they were out and about. Senkuu isn’t showing it, but she can just tell the air’s starting to get to him too.

It’s just the two of them at the moment, the rest of their ragtag group splitting off to other areas to find what they’re looking for. While Senkuu would typically go off with one of the other generals, Gen was really persistent that he go with (Y/n). It was beyond her understanding why, but she wouldn’t complain about spending alone time with her close friend again.

“Hey, Leek,” She lightly tugs on his sleeve as his crimson eyes stare far ahead, her own (e/c) eyes staring off towards a cave in the near distance. She points towards it once she feels his eyes on her, “Think we should check in for the night? I’m more than positive the others have too with how dark it’s gotten.”

“Think you’re just getting cold, Dragonfruit,” He hums in response, staring at the cave as he thinks it over. He grins at the sight of the many sticks and twigs around the area, tugging (Y/n) along with him as he starts walking in that direction, “I’m sure it won’t hurt to start a fire for a bit though.”

He’s super eager to get there, picking up various rocks, twigs, leaves, and sticks as they get closer. She attempts to help, but he’s moving faster than she can think. It’s almost a little unnerving… Kind of like he thinks this cave will benefit him in some way or something…

“Wait, is the thing we’re looking for in a cave?” (Y/n) asks, turning to Senkuu just as he gets the fire up and running at the edge of the cavern’s opening. He stands and backs away from it, holding his hands out towards it for a little bit before slowly backing away from it.

The fire is a reasonable size, big enough to ward off any animals and let anyone know they’re location if they’re passing by. Senkuu, however, is moving further into the cave. His flashlight is on, catching the twinkles of a few minerals and gems a little further inside. There’s a glint in his ruby eyes, made devious by the smirk on his face, “You can stay by the fire if you want, but I’m gonna scope this area out for a bit.”

She stares at him with a straight face, narrowing her eyes at him as he starts getting more and more visibly excited. She normally wouldn’t mind him doing his science thing to his hearts content, but it’s starting to get late and she really doesn’t want to sit by the fire by herself…

And almost like a gift from God (or a curse from Satan), it starts to rain. And it rains hard.

The fire is out almost immediately and Senkuu freezes in his tracks at the sound. The crack of his neck can be heard as he quickly turns his head towards where (Y/n) is sitting, who has visibly tensed up like a cat at the sudden change of weather. The first clap of thunder has her jumping ten feet in the air, landing a ways away from the cave’s opening and further along inside. She bumps into Senkuu as she lands, the two stumbling to the ground together.

“Well, that’s great,” Senkuu grumbles as he lays on the hard ground, sitting up a little to glare at the cave’s entrance. (Y/n) is more than glad, but she won’t admit to praying on his downfall out loud.

“Maybe it’s for the best… It was getting pretty late,” She settles for, sitting up and glancing around the cave. She then looks down at him, giving him a teasing smirk, “We’ll just have to snuggle for warmth, Leek. Stark naked~”

He’s quiet after that, his face turned far enough away from hers that she can’t read it. After a moment, he looks up at her with the most deadpanned expression he can muster. He doesn’t even humor her with a grin or an inch of a smile, moving his focus to thinking as he stares hard at the rain outside, “We could be here a few hours. While the cave hasn’t hit relatively low temperatures yet, we may actually need to huddle for warmth throughout the night to keep body temperature between us. We shouldn’t need to take our clothes off since we didn’t get wet or anything and we definitely can’t start another fire with all the wet materials outside-”

He continues to ramble off plausible game plans and (Y/n) is unable to keep up after awhile. She rests her chin in her palm, sighing as she lets him finish his little analysis. While he does that, she gets close to him and rests her head on his shoulder before pushing into his space. She gets comfortable, burying her face in his neck and leaning her weight into his body so the two of them fall back to the ground.

(Y/n) wraps her arms around his waist, snuggling into his hold until her body is flush against his. Senkuu’s thinking stops as one of his arms wraps around her out of instinct and pull her closer to his body. A soft flush warms and fills his cheeks as he holds her close, hand pressed flat against her back while his other arm lays out to his side. He looks down at her, hoping the small change in his breathing isn’t obvious as he takes in how close she is.

“Turn your brain off, Senkuu. You said we could be here for hours, right?” (E/c) orbs glance up at him through her eye lashes, a soft pout dancing along her lips, “I’m heading to sleep, so you should too…”

He watches as her breathing begins to soften, reminding him of fond memories in the old world from sleepovers past. He shouldn’t get so worked up, they’ve been closer than this before, but he can’t help but focus on every part of her he’s been struggling to ignore as of late. Things like this keep him from getting jealous of the others, because deep down he knows no one could ever be as comfortable with her as he is.

Even so, he’s still left only admiring her from afar. He’s lucky most of their comrades have picked up on his feelings for her, but he’s got a long way to go before he’s even close to ready to admit his feelings…

Yet… He can revel in moments like this for now, with her in his arms in rare private moments like this. He’s glad the mentalist set this up for him, regardless of the protests from Chrome and the proud look on Ukyo’s face. She doesn’t have to know he wasn’t actually looking for anything, he’ll just wake up before her and grab a few resources from the cave to use as a small diversion. For now, he’ll take advantage of his situation…

He plants a soft kiss on the top of her head, letting himself fall asleep after.

[estellan0vella]

Love In Print│Bang Chan

Chapter Twenty Six: Take That Back SS: 0 (ignore time stamps and dates) Word Count: 2K Content Warnings:

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Ayame, flanked by her chaotic but loyal entourage, walks toward the meeting room with her heart hammering in her chest. Minho is muttering something under his breath, possibly a prayer or a curse directed at Haechul but Ayame can't focus on anything except the sound of her heels hitting the floor. Jisung bounces alongside her, vibrating with nervous energy.

"Maknae, you've got this," Minho says firmly, his hand giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "Remember, if anyone tries to say otherwise, I'll throw a chair through the window."

"Don't think I won't help him," Hyunjin chimes in, flipping his hair dramatically as he adjusts the popcorn bag tucked into his arm.

They step into the meeting room, and Ayame's breath catches. Chan is already there, shaking hands with the board members. He stands tall, his expression unreadable but somehow calm, like he's been waiting for this moment.

Ms. Seo turns toward Ayame, her warm smile lighting up the otherwise sterile atmosphere. "Ah, Ayame. Perfect timing. We were just about to come find you."

Ayame swallows hard, her eyes darting to Chan. His gaze locks onto hers, steady and unflinching. She musters a smile, determined to stay composed. "Congratulations," she says, her voice steady but distant. It feels like a protective shield.

Chan steps forward, his hands clasped in front of him, his voice carrying a surprising gentleness. "Well, we've all had a big decision to make today. This merger hasn't been easy, hell, it's been a clusterfuck from the start, but it's also shown us what this company is capable of."

Ayame braces herself for the final blow, but then he looks directly at her, his expression softening. "And I know firsthand that no one is more tenacious, smarter, or better suited to lead this company than its new managing director, Lim Ayame. Congratulations, Ayame."

The words hang in the air for a beat before the room erupts. Hyunjin practically shouts, "I fucking knew it!" as he grabs Minho in a bear hug. Jisung yells, "Let's fucking go!" like they're at a concert. Seungmin nods stoically, muttering, "About damn time."

Ayame blinks, her brain struggling to process what she just heard. "Wait, what?" she manages to say, her voice barely audible over the chaos.

Chan steps closer, his smile faint but genuine. "I took a job as acquisitions editor at Yeonjun's editing company."

Her jaw drops. "So when you said you didn't need help beating me..."

He nods, his smile growing. "I'd already decided to resign."

Ayame's eyes narrow as her confusion gives way to indignation. "Why the hell didn't you tell me?"

Nari steps forward, raising her hand like a kid caught sneaking candy. "That would be my fault," she admits. "I told him not to. Fighting with Chan pushed you to be your best, Ayame. You've always been brilliant, but that fire? You needed it to burn this bright."

Minho smirks, popping a piece of popcorn into his mouth. "Not that it mattered. She would've wiped the floor with you anyway, Bang."

Chan laughs softly, shaking his head as he turns back to Ayame. "This company wouldn't survive without you. Everyone knows that."

Before Ayame can respond, Haechul's grating voice cuts through from the doorway. "Just what we need, more heart and soul. Let me guess: the next initiative is a fucking bake sale."

Chan's jaw tightens, and he turns slowly. "Haechul, shut the fuck up. Honestly, just make it a rule: don't speak. Ever."

The room erupts in laughter and scattered applause. Nari claps loudly, grinning. "That's my favourite sentence of the day!"

Haechul's face turns an alarming shade of red. He jabs a finger in Chan's direction. "You're fired!"

Chan leans casually against the table, arms crossed. "I already quit, you useless dick."

As Haechul storms out, Jisung cups his hands around his mouth and yells, "Bye, bye, now!" Minho nearly chokes on his popcorn, while Hyunjin collapses against Seungmin, laughing so hard he's practically crying.

Ayame exhales sharply, her chest feeling lighter for the first time in weeks. She turns to Chan, who's watching her with a look she can't quite decipher. Some mix of pride, admiration, and something deeper.

"You know what I just realized?" she says, stepping closer to him.

"What's that?" he asks, his voice lower now, his eyes never leaving hers.

"You're the nice guy," Ayame says, her lips quirking into a sly smile.

Chan's expression shifts to mock offence. "Take that back."

"No," she says firmly, grabbing the lapels of his blazer and pulling him down into a kiss. The room explodes in cheers and applause, but Ayame doesn't care. The world narrows to just the two of them, the rest fading into background noise.

"Nice guy," she murmurs against his lips.

"Troublemaker," he replies, grinning before kissing her again.

The city buzzes faintly in the background as Ayame and Chan step out of the office building into the crisp winter air. Ayame tucks her arm through his, leaning against him slightly as they navigate the snow-covered sidewalk. Her grin is mischievous, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold.

"So," she begins, tilting her head to look up at him. "You, Changbin, Jisung, and Jeongin absolutely have to come to the shisha bar with us. It's not just any bar, it's sacred ground."

Chan smirks, his breath fogging in the cold air. "The same shisha bar where you went on your fake date with Seonghwa?"

Ayame groans, rolling her eyes. "Yes, that shisha bar. It's tradition. No shitting on the tradition, Bang Chan."

Minho, catching up with the group, slides between them and throws an arm over Ayame's shoulder. "She's right. That bar has seen all of our most embarrassing moments. It's basically a diary, except it's sticky and smells like apple-flavored smoke."

Hyunjin struts past them, his long coat swaying behind him as he leans into Changbin, whispering something into his ear that turns the man beet red. Changbin stammers out a response, clearly flustered, while Hyunjin just smirks smugly.

Jisung trails behind, keeping pace with Minho as he nods toward every snowbank. "Look at that one. That one's a solid 8/10. Very picturesque."

Minho raises a brow. "8/10? That snowbank is a fucking masterpiece. Look at that curve. That's art."

Seungmin and Jeongin bring up the rear, holding hands like they're starring in a winter romance movie. Their matching scarves flutter slightly in the breeze, drawing coos of admiration from Hyunjin when he notices.

As the group walks, Jisung suddenly clears his throat, speeding up slightly to walk next to Chan. "Hey, uh, Chan."

Chan glances sideways at his friend, curious. "Yeah?"

Jisung scratches the back of his neck, looking uncharacteristically sheepish. "I just wanted to say sorry. For all the shit I said in the group chat. I genuinely thought you were a world-class dick."

Chan raises a brow, suppressing a grin. "And now?"

"Now I think you're, like, mid-level dick. But in a cool way, so you're back to normal Chan," Jisung says quickly, before correcting himself. "Okay, okay, fine. You're not a dick. You're just intense."

Chan chuckles, shaking his head. "Water under the bridge, man. And I am intense."

"Still," Jisung adds, his voice lowering. "I might've gone overboard with the 'burn in hell, you manipulative bastard' part."

Minho spins around dramatically, throwing his hands up. "No apologizing!" he yells. "Tonight is about unity! Unity through excessive alcohol consumption and poor life choices!"

Hyunjin lifts his arm triumphantly. "Let's show these Miroh trolls how Levanter gets fucked up!"

Ayame whoops in agreement, tugging on Chan's arm to quicken their pace. "Come on, old man. You need to witness messy drunk Ayame in action."

Chan's laugh is warm, a low rumble that sends a shiver down her spine. "Old man? Who do you think is carrying your drunk ass home later?"

She grins, feigning innocence. "Oh, you wish you could handle me."

Seungmin snickers, muttering to Jeongin, "She's not wrong. Chan's gonna regret this."

Hyunjin nods solemnly. "He has no idea what he's in for."

Minho points dramatically at the street ahead. "To the shisha bar! Let chaos reign!"

As the group makes their way through the snow-dusted streets, Ayame can't help but glance up at Chan again, her smirk softening into something more genuine. "Thanks for putting up with all of this," she says quietly.

Chan looks down at her, his eyes warm and amused. "Wouldn't miss it for the world, shortcake."

The bar's dim lighting casts a soft glow on the familiar scene, shisha clouds curling lazily in the air. Ayame takes a deep breath, the scent of watermelon and mint mingling with the tang of cheap vodka and beer. It's comforting, like slipping into an old pair of shoes, slightly sticky but reliable. The bartender's wave feels like a nod from an old friend, and she raises her hand in acknowledgement as they step further inside.

Minho comes to an abrupt halt in the middle of the room, his eyes locking onto something, or rather, someone, at the bar. He nudges Ayame sharply. "Aya, look. Seven o'clock."

Ayame squints, following his line of sight until her gaze lands on him. Discount Chan. Chris. Nursing a whiskey like a broody rom-com protagonist. Her stomach drops, but the corner of her mouth quirks up in disbelief.

"Oh, you have got to be kidding me," she mutters.

Chan follows her gaze and the moment his eyes land on Chris, he loses it. His laughter bursts out so suddenly and loudly that a few heads turn.

"No fucking way!" Chan gasps between laughs, clutching his side as he bends forward slightly. "Is that-? Oh my god! Is that him? My off-brand version? The Budget Bang?"

Chris turns at the commotion, his brows knitting together when he sees Ayame with Chan. His eyes flick between the two, his confusion palpable. "Whoa," Chris says, his voice slow and cautious. "You look just like me."

Chan straightens, still grinning ear-to-ear. "Oh, absolutely not. Look at my shoulders. Way better than yours."

"And his ass is better," Minho chimes in, sliding up beside them like a cat waiting to pounce. His smirk is lethal. "And his dick. I've seen both. From both of you. Because both of you have defiled my sweet baby Maknae Ayame on separate occasions."

Ayame nearly chokes, covering her face with her hands as her laughter bubbles out uncontrollably. Chan looks smug as hell, pulling Ayame closer by the waist, his grin widening.

Jeongin steps up, looking utterly baffled. "Okay, me, Changbin and Jisung, we need context. What the fuck is happening?"

Seungmin doesn't miss a beat, his tone flat and devastatingly direct. "Ayame hooked up with that guy," he points at Chris, "to avoid dealing with her feelings for Chan."

Jisung's jaw drops. "Wait, hold up. You're telling me she fucked his doppelganger?"

"Multiple times," Minho says, raising a finger for emphasis. "She fucked him multiple times. And regretted it the second she woke up and found out that he was in her bed."

Changbin looks scandalized, his brows furrowing. "That's so messy."

Hyunjin sighs dramatically, tossing his hair over his shoulder. "Our Maknae is always messy. It's her charm."

"True," Minho agrees. "But we love her anyway."

The bartender interrupts, shouting across the room, "Usuals?"

Minho strides to the counter, slamming his hand down like a man closing a deal. "Top shelf. We're celebrating, so make it strong. Also, four shishas: watermelon, mint, blueberry, and Ayame, what do you and your real Chan want?"

"Strawberry," Ayame replies without hesitation.

Chan smirks approvingly, his hand ghosting over her lower back. "Good choice."

As the bartender sets up, Chan leans down, his lips brushing the shell of her ear. His voice is low, teasing. "So, that's my competition?"

Ayame looks up at him, her smirk sharp. "Trust me, I've had sex with both of you. You outrank him by miles."

Chan's smirk turns into a grin, his dimple flashing as he presses a lingering kiss to her temple. "Damn right, I do. Let's go sit before you try to hop on my knock-off again."

Ayame slaps his chest lightly, scandalized. "Chan!"

"What?" he asks, mock-innocent, as he guides her to a booth. "I'm just saying. You've got the real thing now."

Chris glares at them from across the bar, muttering something inaudible as Minho orders shots for the entire group. Jisung leans over, squinting at Chris, and says with an air of authority, "Honestly, it's eerie how similar you two are. But yeah, Chan's shoulders are way better."

Hyunjin raises his glass dramatically. "To Ayame's taste in men: consistently questionable."

"Cheers!" the group shouts in unison, the chaotic energy of the night kicking into high gear.

Taglist: @fackeraccount @ot8girlfie @nightmarenyxx @reimaybeidk

@ismelllikechlorine247 @drewsandsebastianswife @my-neurodivergent-world @rhonnie23 @hanji-coffee

@skzleeknowcore

@idiotmaterial @yoongiismylove2018