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The Furrcinating Adventures of Champion, the Archives Cat | The Magnus Archives Fanfiction | Ch 4/?
Based on @ultramarinaa’s Cat!Martin AU
CONTENT WARNINGS: None
DISCLAIMER: As per usual, this is an unedited first draft that I haven’t proofread. Forgive any typos and roughness around the edges – I tend not to go back over fanfics, as they’re just a bit of fun writing for me. (I am a full-time professional writer, and if I start telling myself I need to edit and proofread my fanfics, it’ll cease being fun for me.)
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Martin – no, Champion, for that was who he was now – crept through the institute, his ears flat against his head.
How long had he been technically missing for now? At least a week, if not more. And no one had notified the police. Not Jon, not Tim, not Sasha. Not his own mother, despite the fact Martin would call her almost daily to check in on her. Not his neighbours nor his…well. He didn’t have any friends outside the institute.
He didn’t have any friends inside the institute either, it seemed.
Champion padded past the grand oak reception desk in the front lobby. Almost immediately, his paws left the ground, which drew a purr of surprise from him, his little blue eyes growing wide.
“Oh, Champion! You came to visit me, did you?”
Rosie, Elias’ assistant, gathered Champion into her arms, her thin, angular face all smiles and framed with bouncing red curls. Everyone’s face was all smiles when Champion arrived. Champion, who did nothing at all to actually help the institute. He couldn’t read properly like this. He couldn’t research, staying up all hours of the night to finish reports. He couldn’t go investigate leads across the country, nor pitch theories for statements. He couldn’t even make a cup of tea like this.
Martin could do all those things. And not once had he been given a genuine smile in return, not a single sparkle in someone’s eye to say they were actually happy to see him. But as Champion?
All he had to do was walk on by.
The first few days, that attention had overjoyed Martin. All he’d ever wanted. But now, it stung, jabbing him in the chest and reminding him that all this fuss wasn’t for him. Not really.
That people liked him better as a useless cat than a man who tried too hard and apologised for existing.
“Oh dear, little guy, why the sad ears?” Rosie continued, sitting down and depositing Champion onto the immaculate desk in front of her. “Was Jonathan a meanie to you? Do you want Rosie to accidentally misplace his expenses form this month?” She scratched behind Champion’s ear with a perfectly manicured nail, but he couldn’t even muster a false purr in response.
Everyone liked him better as a cat. Hell, maybe he was better at being a cat?
Maybe he should just…stay a cat. Let Martin Blackwood become just another missing person, lost behind a veil of barely asked questions.
Something stirred under his skin at that thought, like a cold fog rippling through his blood, sending all his fur on end. Champion jolted in shock; all too easily, he had forgotten what he wrestled with here. Sure, being turned into a cat sounded silly enough, but the architect of all this had been a Leitner book.
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts, caring not for the jovial packaging they came in.
Champion, now dealing with an alarming amount of adrenaline, leapt from Rosie’s desk and scampered away. He dashed through the corridors, paw pads skidding on the hardwood flooring, his tiny heart hammering away.
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts…
He practically slid across the Research Department, not stopping even when one of the researchers reached for a bag of cat treats.
Something fed upon his lonely thoughts! What if it could see him or hear him or—
He bounded through the austere, silent library, not sure what he was running from or if anything was even truly chasing him. But instinct tore through his limbs, too aware now of the sense of some unspeakable shadow prowling after him and delighting in his isolation.
When the panic finally subsided, Champion had to take a moment to look around the room he’d bolted into. The room loomed around him, gloomy save for one desk light working hard to chase it all away.
His desk light.
Champion padded through the archival assistants’ office, wandering past Tim’s empty desk and Sasha’s neglected chair. Was Tim at the station, weaving a story as to why they hadn’t reported their colleague missing sooner? Was Sasha in Elias’ office, distracting him from the whole affair?
He hopped up onto his old chair at his own desk. He hadn’t been here since the day he’d read that damned book in the first place. Jon’s office took the place of his regular workspace, either curled up on Jon’s lap or snoozing under the radiator.
Being a cat, admittedly, had been a lot more comfortable than being Martin Blackwood. The temptation to remain like this had, he realised, not been entirely out of spite and anger of the others not being too fussed about Martin’s disappearance.
It had come from Martin’s own disregard for Martin’s disappearance. Like this, he couldn’t annoy people. He didn’t have to worry about messing up conversations or making a fool of himself. He could stay away from people in that way, yet reap all the benefits of getting affection and having his company be greeted with a smile.
But…he also couldn’t offer Jon a cup of tea and get to see that momentary lessening of his scowl, the only time his frown eased up in the office. The silly little bloom of pride Martin got at being able to coax that out of him with a nice cup of tea – a silent victory, proof he’d done something right.
He couldn’t sneak out five minutes early for lunch with Tim on a Thursday, because they both loved Thursday special at the German kebab shop three blocks away and wanted to avoid the lunch rush queues.
He couldn’t buy a lemon and poppyseed muffin on a Monday to drop off at Rosie’s desk before she got in, earning him first dibs when she baked her amazing Malteser brownies during charity bake sales at work. She pretended she didn’t know Martin brought her breakfast every Monday, when he knew she ran late for work because she had to drop her father off at the physio, but somehow, a hearty slice of brownie would be wrapped in a napkin in the fridge with his name on it all the same.
He couldn’t go to the little tea room five minutes from his house every Saturday and Wednesday, order the same cup of Earl Grey and the same ham-and-cheese toastie, and beam as the owner called him his favourite and most reliable customer.
Maybe…Maybe Martin Blackwood did get noticed after all. Little nods, little appreciations. Maybe…that was enough?
The cold retreated from his fluffy legs, though it didn’t fully subside. It loosened its grip on his tiny heart, but it didn’t uncoil.
He had to completely undo this, Champion – no, Martin decided. He had to find the answer. And the best place to start had to be the book itself.
Martin jumped down from his chair, flattening himself on the floor to scoot under the bookcase where he had bashed the book out of sight weeks before.
A few cobwebs…a pen he’d lost months ago…some paper clips…a scrunched up ball of paper that stole all of Martin’s attention for five minutes or more as he bapped it between his paws in delight…but no book.
Wriggling his way back out from under the furniture, he looked left and right. Where was it?
Martin headed out of the archival assistants’ office and made his way towards Jon’s. Had Jon returned to the office to retrieve the book? Martin hadn’t noticed him doing so, nor had the book shown up on Jon’s desk lately. Given that desk doubled as one of Martin’s many napping spots, he was sure he would have spotted it if it had.
Unless…he’d picked it up recently. Tim had just told Jon that there was no sign of Martin at all at his flat. Tim had done something incredibly important in that conversation, Martin realised in horror.
He’d given Jon a mystery to unravel. He’d sparked his curiosity and given him a challenge – could he find Martin before a professional?
Oh no.
Martin scampered into Jon’s office at full speed, miaowing in a vain attempt to yell Jon’s name. But the room was empty.
Panting, his head whipped this way and that. Where was he? It was 4:12pm – not a time that Jon would take a smoke break he thought no one knew about, nor a time he’d go for a tea or try to heavily hint for Martin to make one. He was always at his desk. Where was—
“Mrrrrowww…”
Martin blinked, his ears twitching. That…hadn’t come from him. “Miaow?”
A horrified pause stretched out across the office. And then, that same, low rumble of a miaow, sorrowful and irritated.
“Mrrrrrooooowwww…”
Plucking up his courage, Martin followed the sound, his fur already sticking up on end. He tip-toed around the leg of Jon’s desk, already suspecting what had happened, yet praying it hadn’t.
There, beside Jon’s chair, was The Ninth Life, open on the last few pages. And on top of the book was the saddest, skinniest, scabbiest-looking black cat that Martin had ever seen in his life. Flecks of grey mottled his fur, which was missing in great clumps all over. Most of his right ear was missing, leaving a ragged edge in its wake. His eyes were far too big for his head, a brilliant green that somehow didn’t complement his black fur. Worst of all, the cat was sitting with its hind legs in front of it, as though determined to sit like a person.
The black cat looked at Martin.
Martin looked at the black cat.
It scowled at him. Somehow, despite everything, the cat managed to scowl at him.
The cat knew who he was, Martin realised. He knew he was Martin.
…Jon? Is that you? Martin wondered, pacing slowly over to the scabby cat. He just wanted to get close enough to sniff him, to confirm that this was Jon and—
Bap!
A paw plonked down squarely on Martin’s head, followed by a warning hiss.
Bap! Bap bap bap!
Yes, Martin realised, as he lay down on his front and tried to cover the top of his head with his own paws to shield himself.
The scruffy cat before him was definitely Jonathan Sims.
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I mean
#wholes#am i right#fanart#infamous second son#delsin rowe#me making a grand return once a few months
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Winner | Lewis Hamilton
WC: 2.3K
Dad!Lewis x Wife!Reader
Summery: It’s lewis’s win after 945 days of not winning, and it’s also your daughter’s first race.
Warning: None
Masterlist
Lewis Masterlist
The home you share with Lewis in England is a sanctuary for the two of you. it's a house filled with warmth and comfort. It's a place filled with laughter and good memories.
Deciding to make this house your main one almost 4 years ago was an easy decision for the both of you. Lewis was away racing most of the year, and since you've gotten pregnant, this was the best option, his family is there, and they've been helping you whenever Lewis is away. During his brakes, you all go back to Monaco, the home you shared with Lewis when you were dating to when you got married and until your fourth month of pregnancy. For him, the move was a return to the familiar embrace of family and the land that had shaped him. Lewis’s family had welcomed you with open arms, their support a constant source of strength.
Their love for your daughter knew no bounds. She was the light of everyone’s lives. Her bright eyes and infectious giggle, a beacon of joy.
One thing is that Lola hasn't seen her dad race in real life. The sound of the engines, the rush of the crowd, those were experiences she only saw on the TV or stories told by the adults around her.
You and Lewis talked about bringing her to a race multiple times, but you always felt like she was too young, that it would be too much for her. But seeing other drivers bring their children made Lewis want to bring her more. And as the British Grand Prix approached, it felt like it was finally time, Lewis was buzzing, Mercedes won last week. Yes, it was because Max and Lando crashed, but they still won. And the feeling he had coming into the week was great. He loves Silverstone, and he's won 8 times before. And the thought of having you and Lola there with the rest of his family was filling him up with anticipation.
That's why when Lola got a bit sick and was under the weather, he felt deflated. Was it a bad omen, will this week go wrong and not like he expected. His thoughts ran wild. Throughout media day and Friday, you've been sending him pictures of the two of you watching him. His mum was with you, but she will be going on race day. Unbeknownst to Lewis, Lola was better, so much better, but you were waiting to see if she'll stay okay or maybe get sick again. The colour returned to her cheeks, and she became active once again.
On quali day, it was bright and early, when you felt Lewis get out of bed, but took you a few minutes to will yourself to get out of bed and follow him. You walked in the direction of your daughter's room. The door was open, and the night light was still on, you watched from the door way as Lewis stood by her bed, he's been coming home late at night when Lola was already in bed.
You walked in and wrapped your arms around him, hugging him from the back, feeling his skin under your arms. Lewis leaned slightly into you. You peppered his shoulder with kisses.
“I can't wait for the summer break, I feel like I haven't been spending enough time with her.” Lewis whispers, you hum and look at her from over his shoulder.
“Soon she'll be able to travel with you to races.” You whisper back. “She's super excited about that.”
“I want to start winning again, I want her to be proud of me.” Lewis told you he sounded so vournable in that moment.
“She's already so proud of you, winning or not.” You reasure him. “She goes around saying my daddy is a champion, he won 7 times, and Nicolas taught her to say that you're the goat.”
“Did he?” Lewis smiled.
“Yeah, don't think she knows what it really means, but it has her giggling every time.” You kiss his neck and pull him slightly. You leave her sleeping.
You watch him get ready from the bed, keeping him company, it pains you not being able to be there for him on his home race weekend.
“I can hear you thinking.” Lewis says, and you smile.
“I can't help it, I want to be there for you today and tomorrow.” You pout, and Lewis smiles he walks to the side of the bed you're sitting on before he leans over and presses a few kisses to your lips.
“We can't help it, Lola comes first.” Lewis says and finishes getting ready.
“I know.”
Watching quali with Lola had so many highs and lows for you. For a second, you thought Lewis would qualify first. But alas, it was 1-2 for Mercedes.
Lewis left the track at 10 that day and was home after both you and Lola fell asleep. You slept on the sofa waiting for him. Lewis smiles seeing you on the sofa, the TV on low volume. He kisses your forehead and picks you up. You stir up and wrap your arms around him.
“I'm so proud of you, Lewis.” You mumble, and he kisses your foreheads once more. He puts you in bed before he joins you, and you gravitate towards him, you cuddle.
Kissing Lewis goodbye the next day, you start getting ready, Carmen, his mum helps Lola get ready while you get ready. You take Lola's bag filled with snacks, toys, and everything she might need or want for the day, also her medicine in case she needs it.
“Look at you so cute.” You tell Lola, seeing her in a mini race suit that is identical to Lewis’, complete with race shoes as well, and a Mercedes cap to boot.
“He'll be so happy.” Carmen tells you, and you agree. She gives you a hug, and the three of you leave. You already agreed with his team to sneak you in and not tell him.
Avoiding fans was the hardest thing, but somehow, you managed to do it. Lewis was in a meeting most of the day. This race was crucial, and a lot of planning went into it.
There was a camera following you and Lola through the Mercedes motorhome, documenting your daughter's first race. She looked around in wander.
“Look who we have here.” Toto said, smiling, seeing your daughter walking in front of you. She smiles up at the tall man, her neck bending to see his face. Toto picks her up.
“Hi, Toto Daddy doesn't know I'm here.” She says and shush him with her finger to her lips.
“Don't worry, I won't tell him.” Toto whispers and smiles. She talks with Toto for a bit before he has to go.
The plan was for one of the team to get a camera into the room Lewis was in, and somehow they did. Lola was told to go knock on the door and walk in.
She looked at you as she walked to the room. You gave her a nod and an encouraging smile. Her small hand knocks on the door, barely making a noise.
Lewis looks up at the door, he thought for a second that he heard a knock or something, it was so light, before the door is pushed open, and he looks down.
“Oh my god.” He whispers. Before he gets up from his chair and, in a few big steps, scoops her up in her arms. “Baby, what are you doing here?”
“It's a surprise, Daddy.” Lola giggles, happy that she managed to surprise her dad.
“She's been feeling much better.” You tell him from the doorway, behind the man filming the father daughter due. Seeing them together here in Mercedes brought tears to your eyes, but you managed not to let them slip. Lewis holds his hand out to you, and you slip in the room and into your husband's arms. He hugs the two of you close, and you enjoy the moment not caring about the people around you.
Lewis is fussy you realised, he's making sure that you're both comfortable in the garage, that Lola's headphones were the right size and that someone will be next to you during the race incase you needed help with anything.
And so for the next hour, the garage became your little haven. Lewis was making sure your daughter was comfortable, adjusting her headphones, and pointing out various parts of the car to her with the patient enthusiasm of a father eager to share his world. She sat perched on his lap, wide-eyed and fascinated by everything around her, her tiny fingers tracing the lines of his racing suit as if trying to memorise every detail. She was so happy when he sat in the car and placed her on his lap, steering wheel and everything.
As the time for the race drew nearer, the atmosphere in the garage grew increasingly tense. Mechanics made their final checks, the car gleamed under the bright lights, and the air was thick with anticipation. Lewis knelt down beside your daughter, his face serious now as he explained that he had to go and get ready. She listened intently, nodding solemnly, and then wrapped her arms around his neck in a tight hug.
“Go win, Daddy,” she said, her voice full of quiet determination.
With one last kiss for each of you, Lewis stood up, took a deep breath, and headed towards his car. You watched him go, your heart swelling with pride and love.
As the engines roared to life and the cars began to line up on the grid, you held your daughter close, her eyes fixed on the track, her face alight with the same eager anticipation that filled the air. Today is a day you would cherish forever, no matter what the outcome of the race might be.
The start of the race looked good, with Lewis and George keeping the rest of the grid behind them. You grew anxious when the Mclarens over took them after Lewis was leading.
Lap 33 George had to retire his car, and it left you worried for Lewis’ car. Mclaren was leading, but the strategy from Mercedes and Lewis’ experience played a good part for him to take the lead and stay ahead of Lando. Lola sat wide-eyed and mesmerised by the spectacle unfolding before her. Lewis’s car was a blur as it streaked past the garage. You could see the intensity in his movements from the onboard, every turn, and manoeuvre executed with the precision and grace of a seasoned champion. A mix of nerves and excitement coursing through your veins. Your daughter clapped her hands in delight every time she spotted her father’s car, her infectious excitement breaking your own tension and bringing a smile to your face.
”There he is, Mummy! Look! Daddy’s winning!” She exclaimed, her voice enthusiastic, filled with pure love as she watched her daddy do what he he loved and was passionate about.
Max came out of nowhere and overtook Lando easily. Your heart dropped as the last 5 laps went on, Max is catching Lewis, your heart beating hard in your chest. The anticipation was killing you. Then, as the race entered its final lap, a hush fell over the garage, the anticipation reaching a fever pitch. Lewis was leading, and Max was too far to try and overtake.
Lola leaned forward, her eyes wide with awe as she watched the drama unfold. “Is Daddy going to win, Mummy?” she asked, her voice filled with a mixture of excitement and uncertainty.
You squeezed her hand, your own emotions a blend of hope and fear. “He will.” You replied, your voice catching in your throat as you watched the final lap play out before you.
The entire grange was on its feet, a chorus of cheers and applause erupting around you as he passed the chequered flag. You felt tears prick at the corners of your eyes, your heart swelling with pride and joy as you watched him cross the finish line, victorious and triumphant.
The garage exploded into a frenzy of celebration, the noise and excitement almost overwhelming in its intensity.
“Daddy won! Daddy won!” she squealed, her face alight with pure, unadulterated joy.
With Carmen, you made your way to parc ferme, where Lewis parked, Lola in your arms. Your husband has already gotten out of the car and hugged his team and father. Carmen managed to get to him before the two of you, and he fell in her shoulder. He’s crying. Hearing him on the team radio crying made you fight your own tears. You walked around the barrier with Lola still in your arms, Lando was being interviewed by Jensen, and that gave you the time to reach Lewis.
He let go of his mother, and his eyes fell on you and Lola in your arms. Meeting his eyes, the tears you tried to keep at bay fell freely. The moment you reached him, he enveloped you both in a fierce, tearful embrace. You hid your face in his neck as you clutched his race suit around his back, Lola wrapped her arms around his neck.
“We did it, we did it.” He whispered in your ear, his voice cracking as he held you both close.
”Daddy don’t cry.” Lola said patting his back, trying to comfort him like he always comforts her, she leaned back and kissed his cheek, Lewis pulls back and kisses her cheek, before he turns to you and presses a kiss to your lips.
”I love you so much.” You whisper against his lips, a teary smile on your face.
”I love you too.” Lewis tells you the emotions between you thick and overwhelming.
”I love you, Daddy.” Lola said, and Lewis turned to take her in his arms, kissing all over her face.
”I love you too, sweetheart.”
In that moment, amidst the roar of the crowd and the flash of the cameras, nothing else mattered. You were together, and Lewis has proved to everyone that said he’s washed and that it’s over for him wrong. And he did it all on his daughter’s first race. His greatest accomplishment and his lucky charm.
Maintaglist
@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03
#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 scenario#f1 x reader#lewis hamilton x reader#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#lewis one shot#lewis x reader#lewis imagine#lewis hamilton fanfic#lewis hamilton win#lewis hamilton one shot#lewis hamilton imagine#lewis hamilton#lh44 fic#lh44 imagine#lh44 x reader#team lh44#lh44#lh
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sunday, sunday, sunday
✱ husband!bc × fem!reader
— now, and every sundays to ever come. i want to spend them all with you.
w.count → 1.1k genre → fluff, fluff, fluff. just tooth rotting fluff. warnings → very minor cussing (just once)(atp cussing is a given lol), kissing, time jump (twice), chan referred to as chris a.n → blame the man for putting the idea in my head like what can i do??? his insta post??? hello??? not to mention his song recommendation while i was writing this??? laufey's like the movies??? what??? he wants me dead atp<////3 ⋆ see masterlist
it’s sunday.
to be fair, it has been sunday since the moment chris’ eyes flew open a few hours ago. it’s sunday when he got ready, it’s sunday when he got his light makeup and hair settled, it is sunday when he finally wore the crisp tailored suit that has been turning his heart into the loudest marching band ensemble he’d ever known.
but to be fair,
it’s not just any sunday.
“bring those shoulders down, hyung. you’re gonna get cramps at this point.”
“oh shut up,” chris groaned, feeling more embarrassed about the fact that he got caught more than the fact that his nerves are firing non-stop at an untraceable rate. “just take the pictures, felix.”
albeit rolling his eyes at chris’ rather feisty comment, it was proven impossible to wipe the cheeky grin off the younger’s clearly ecstatic face. after all, it’s a monumental day in chris’ life—and he’s very honored the older trusted his (and technically hyunjin’s) skills to capture the day’s earlier moments.
“see? that’s already all better,” felix cheerily quipped, snapping several pictures as soon as he caught a glimpse of chris fixing his posture. besides, a little movement here and there does make the picture come out a lot more natural, which was the one thing you repeatedly told him (and hyunjin) as something you wanted to see most in the final cuts.
you.
the mere thought of you was enough to melt the remaining stillness present in chris’ face.
it has been a wild few months; meetings after meetings, fittings after fittings, testing, changes in plans, some other minor revisions, checklist, checklist, checklist. chris was justifiably spent, and so were you. there were arguments (you refused to call them fights, knock on wood), there were a couple of shed tears (out of frustration, of course), there were a few hours of leaving each other on read (justifiably so, considering both of you are quite the stubborn pair), but there were also a lot of make-up dates, plenty of exchanged giggles of excitement, and bountiful of prayers for the days to come.
those days have been wild, and this sunday will begin to prove that every second of it was worthwhile.
“chris hyung!”
woken up from his trance, the glint on chris’ eyes finally returned as he found hyunjin’s head peeking from inside the room—the one he’d been waiting on for the past 10 minutes while his head was busy creating bits and pieces for his life montage.
“ready to see your bride?” asked the younger, grin replicating the ones felix is sporting behind his lenses.
am i ready?
palms running over the fabric of his carefully crafted suit, ones you finally chose after debating over a dozen others you deem was ‘not grand enough for someone about to spend the rest of my life with’, chris took one final breath.
“ready.”
it’s sunday.
it’s been exactly a week since your wedding day, and you finally got your hand on the stack of developed pictures courtesy to your now-husband’s talented teammates. originally, you wanted to take part in picking the films, but the duo was pretty convincing when they said waiting for their pick would make a good little surprise to enjoy on your honeymoon trip.
“come on,” chris beckoned, curls framing his beautiful face while his hand motioned to the empty spot next to him on the bed; one you just left after a call from the front desk informing you about the tiny package under your husband’s name. “let’s see how hyunjin did at taking your pictures.”
“and felix at yours,” you added with a grin, swiftly claiming your throne while your fingers were busy ripping open the brown envelope. “i want to see my husband as much as you wanted to see your wife, you know. not to mention, that suit was absolutely perfect on you.”
“not again,” his defeated giggles has been chris’ way to answer to your every compliment on his look since the day of your wedding. “you need to stop that before my head blows up to the size of a hot air balloon, my love.”
“well,” you shrugged, finally getting your hand on the stack of pictures before then snuggling right into the warmth of chris’ arms, “have you ever thought about trying not to be so hot all the da-“
and of course, stealing kisses has also been his alternative should you continue to run your mouth and try to turn him into a blushing mess.
as if that’s not exactly the reason why you kept up with the praises.
“can we start looking at the pictures,” he muttered over your lips, evidently smiling as his lips brushed against yours, “or do i still need to shut you up?”
you hummed, letting the warmth of his skin hover over your face before your lips captured his in a quick peck, “pictures. need to see my cool husband.”
the way his laugh reverberates against his chest never fails to warm you up.
“okay, picture it is then.”
it’s sunday.
you didn’t expect moving to be this hard—sure, you’ve been living together with chris even before you two got married, but had you really been accumulating that many stuffs?
“fuck—i think it’s not the right screw,” your husband’s mutters forces your line of sight to gravitate towards his hunched figure, still hovering over the half-built shelf on the floor of your living room.
“you reckon it should still stick out this much?” he questioned, beckoning you to look at the silver piece, sticking out like a sore thumb. “no, right?”
“think not,” you huffed, crouching next to chris to look at the scattered pieces around him, “was this all? did they send the wrong one?”
chris groaned in defeat, deciding to lean onto your warmth instead of voicing his answer. maybe building your own furniture was not exactly a good idea to spend your first weekend home after your honeymoon trip.
treading your fingers through his soft curls, you then came up with a suggestion, “i’ll get you a pineapple juice then we’ll figure it out together, yeah?”
and it sure perked him right up.
looking at you with sparkles lighting up in his eyes, it felt right—it felt like even through the worst sundays, chris would still be the there to welcome you home.
“thank you,” he grinned—the boyish kind. the one that made you feel like a swarm of butterflies, one that gets you blushing like a schoolgirl in front of her first ever crush. his lips then found its home on the bare of your thigh, printing a quick kiss on the surface, “you’re the best.”
“mm, i know,” you answered with a giggle, feeling the warmth breaking through your skin before returning the kiss on his plump lips while feigning ignorance to the way your heartbeat grew louder by the second.
“you’re still the bestest of the best, though. can’t beat you.”
©️ astralisortus, 2024. | likes and reblogs are highly appreciated♡
#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#bang chan fluff#stray kids x reader#skz x reader#bang chan x reader#stray kids imagines#skz imagines#bang chan imagines#stray kids scenarios#skz scenarios#bang chan scenarios#stray kids x you#skz x you#bang chan x you#stray kids fanfic#skz fanfic#bang chan fanfic#stray kids au#skz au#bang chan au#isa's fics
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still into you
after abruptly leaving hawkins (and you) seven years ago, eddie munson, ex-boyfriend turned rockstar, makes a grand return. how will things pan out when your lives couldn’t be further apart?
this has been in the drafts for god knows how long and you can definitely tell where my writing started to improve as i came back to it.. hope y’all enjoy anyway! this is so long good lord. also includes a bit of bestfriendism with stevie!
18+. mdni. smut. mentions of alcohol. eddie is a dickhead. no use of y/n!
read part two here.
♡‧₊˚
‘you know he’s coming back next weekend?’ steve mutters, nodding towards you as you rip the sellotape from the brown box, beginning to stack the cans of soup.
‘is he? oh my god oh my god,’ feigning excitement with a straight face.
you’d already known he was coming back, you’d received the invitation just like everybody else. except, you’d swiftly put the gimmicky piece of paper into the trash and got on with your day. confused why everyone else seemed to be losing their goddamn minds over it.
he huffs quietly, helping you with the heavy tins, ‘are you gonna go?’ steve didn’t actually work in melvalds but came in on his breaks purely to chat and distract you from your work.
‘am i gonna go? hmm, let me think.. no.’
‘he wants to see you.. you should come,’ prodding his elbow into your side, collapsing the box into a flat piece of cardboard.
‘you spoke to him?’ ears perking up. you didn’t care if he’d mentioned you. no, really.
‘yeah.. he called a few weeks ago, y’know when the invitations got sent out,’ picking up the next box to start filling the shelf.
‘oh! it’s nice to know he called you and just hilarious to know i never got a phone call,’ getting frankly quite sick of hearing about eddie fucking munson and his grand return.
once upon a time, eddie had actually been your boyfriend. must’ve been 7 or so years ago by this point.. anyway, that was before he’d got his big break and decided that he was going to completely forget about hawkins.. and about you. you’d still been together after his first tiny tour, excitedly waiting for him to come home when he just.. never did.
he’d had the decency to at least call and tell you that he was breaking up with you.. we’re just in different places right now.. it’s not you.. i don’t want you to ruin your life waiting for me..
it was essentially a whole bunch of bullshit, because the very next month he was spotted with some bottle blonde model looking suspiciously close at some club he’d have absolutely hated the year prior. it was like a punch to the gut, flicking through the pages of the trashy magazine just knowing that you hadn’t been enough for this new lifestyle of his.
from then on, you’d decided to disengage with any and everything about him. turning the tv off when corroded coffin came on one of the morning talk shows, leaving the room at parties when one of his song’s inevitably came on and just completely blanking out of the conversation when his name was brought up. it was easier that way, saved your feelings and the awkward glances you’d get.
at some point things had become slightly more complicated and you’re not sure how exactly it had happened but you had wound up pregnant. and by jason carver no less. maybe it was your shared disdain for eddie that had brought you together. who knows?
but it had happened and now you had to deal with it. and although jason may come in a close second to world’s biggest assholes.. you had gained a beautiful daughter from it all and had become quite content with your single mom life.
people had come and gone, robin jetting off to some fancy college in california.. jonathan and nancy ending up in new york at some hot-shot newspaper.. the kids you’d sort of gathered had all gone off to various colleges, becoming adults themselves. all except for steve.
steve had stayed in hawkins like you, begrudgingly following his father’s footsteps, getting a job at his accounting firm. it was good money and kept his dad happy so he couldn’t fault it really. he’d even got his own place just down the street from your house and at some point you’d just accepted that he was probably your only friend in hawkins.
it had brought the two of you undeniably closer and maybe you’d even call him your best friend now. well, except for right now as he was beginning to piss you off with all this fussing over eddie.
‘you have to come.. it’s not just for him, everyone is going.. it’s a reunion,’ steve continues to pester you despite your efforts to shut him down.
‘steve, i’m not going and that’s that.’
he sighs, staring at you with a blank expression, ‘okay, well.. i’ll tell him it’s a maybe,’ checking his watch before frowning, ‘shit, i’m late.. i’ll see you later,’ throwing the empty cardboard to the floor before dashing off down the aisle, giving you an exaggerated wave as he disappears.
you just knew that he was not going to drop this until you agreed to go. but he could kick and scream as much as he liked, you had absolutely zero desire to go this flimsy reunion and even less desire to see eddie in the flesh.
-
it’s another dull week of stacking shelves and managing a team of absolute morons and before you know it, it’s the day before that fucking reunion and steve is still as incessant as ever that you must go.
‘my mom can look after ella.. please just come,’ he sounded like he was a second away from getting on his knees to actually beg you to go.
you’d started to just ignore him now, getting on with whatever you were doing, choosing to give him the silent treatment. he hated that.
‘you’re so annoying,’ he scoffs, still helping you unbox the bags of chips, ‘will you just come for five minutes.. you don’t even have to talk to eddie, it’s the first time we’ll all be together again.. puh-leaseee,’ breaking into a weird sort of sing-song tone.
you exhale through your nose, visibly frustrated by the man, ‘i’m going to ban you in a minute,’ raising your eyebrows, taking the same tone you used when ella was being a brat.
‘no you won’t,’ furrowing his brows, ‘what if i promise to stand in between you the whole night? i’ll beat him with a stick if he even tries to talk to you,’ completely serious with what he just said.
you chortle, covering your mouth as one of the elderly customers walks past, slightly bewildered by the noise that just escaped your mouth, ‘couldn’t you just beat him with a stick anyway?’
‘ehh.. not really, he is paying for the whole thing,’ straightening the bags of air he’d just placed on the shelf, ‘i mean, i could if you really want me to.’
you roll your eyes, of course he was. he’d rented the fanciest restaurant just outside of town for your gaggle of pals. any chance to flaunt the fact that he’d made it out of this hell hole and left the rest of you in the dirt.
‘i have a child, steve, i can’t just go out and leave her at home.. some of us aren’t free like you are,’ turning to face him with a stern hand on your hip.
‘i just told you my mom’ll look after her.. she hasn’t seen her in so long and.. and you can stay at mine and i’ll take you to her first thing in the morning,’ his eyes are round, glimmering in the harsh overhead lights.
‘i don’t have anything to wear,’ shrugging, you really didn’t. becoming a mother isn’t quite so glamorous and a lot of clothes you’d once fit into had become a little tight.
‘when d’you finish?’
narrowing your eyes at him, ‘two..’
‘great.. okay well, i’ll take a half-day and we can go shopping.. on me,’ wiggling his eyebrows at you. the thing about steve is that he believes that most problems can be solved by throwing money at it.
he wasn’t wrong, of course.
because you reluctantly agree to go shopping with him on the condition that you weren’t definitely going to this thing. you were just going to try on dresses. that was it.
-
you get a cab to the restaurant, there was no way in hell you were doing this sober nor did you want to subject steve to being sober for your sake. palms clammy as you clamber out of the vehicle, immediately regretting your decision.
no one would care if you didn’t go, right? you could quite easily just get back into the taxi and go home without forcing yourself to endure the night.
steve’s one step ahead of you, grabbing your hand so you can’t run away. throwing him an awful glare but you weren’t really mad, just annoyed that he’d succeeded in persuading you to come.
‘c’mon.. it won’t be so bad once you’re in there,’ smoothing down his fresh shirt as he begins to walk up the winding path, dragging you along behind him.
he’s wrong. it’s so much worse inside. the place was huge, extravagantly decorated and full of people you’d once regarded as your best friends, all too busy in their own conversations to notice you and steve walk in.
it wasn’t like you hadn’t heard from them, it had just been through occasional letters and christmas cards rather than seeing them face to face. robin would call sometimes, fill you in on whatever she had been up to and beg to speak to ella who absolutely loved it. you were sure they were on the same wavelength.
you look to steve with wary eyes, digging your fingertips into his hand, ‘we could just leave right now.. no one would even know,’ tugging gently on his arm.
‘hey,’ he whispers, ‘it’s okay.. look, robin’s coming over, we’ll say hi and see how you feel,’ using his spare hand to wave at the bubbly girl, dropping your hand to give her a hug.
‘oh my god,’ she rushes, ‘how are you? you look so good.. and i don’t mean you,’ pulling away from steve to throw her arms around you, her gentle hands rubbing on your back.
‘hah, it’s nice to see you too,’ steve rolls his eyes, grabbing two of the champagne flutes being ferried around by fancy waiters.
she pulls back, ‘i didn’t think you were coming.. how are you doing? how’s ella?’ the words falling out of her mouth at super speed, it was as if her mouth moved before her brain did.
‘i wasn’t gonna but i wanted to see you guys,’ you nod, taking the glass from steve’s outstretched hand and taking a lengthy sip, ‘i’m okay.. ella’s okay.. you’ll have to come and see her before you leave.’
‘i will i will! i literally landed like two hours ago and had to rush but i’m back until friday,’ her hands flying around as she spoke, ‘come and say hello..’ her arm intertwines with yours as she leans in closer to your ear, ‘he’s staring y’know..’
your eyes roll back on their own, not even wanting to search the room for him, ‘i’m not speaking to him so he can stare all he likes,’ straightening up as you approach the group robin had left.
nancy’s talking to max about something in incredible detail but is quite to stop when you approach, mouth in a small ‘o’ as she hugs you, ‘you came? i thought we were gonna miss you,’ grinning wide when she pulls back.
you give an overdramatic sigh, ‘of course i had to come.. you’d all miss me too much,’ waving to the rest of the group.
there are a lot of small pleasantries swapped, asking about their journey’s here and how they’d been.. standard small talk. but then el asks to see a picture of ella, ecstatic that their names were so similar. you’d come prepared, pulling the creased picture out of your bag.
they all gush and coo over her, it was a picture you’d snapped from her first day of kindergarten, cheesing with her pigtails and pink hair bobbles. passing it around the gathered group, still steadily sipping on the bitter champagne.
‘who’s that?’ eddie asks, you hadn’t noticed him sidle over to the crowd, stood peering over lucas’ shoulder at the photograph.
your eyes meet his, seeing his face for the first time in what felt like centuries. he looked older, obviously, still sporting the same long curls except now it actually looked as if it’d been styled. he’s in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, forearms now littered with tattoos and a nice looking watch. your heart just about stops beating when you realise you’ll now have to explain exactly who that is.
‘uh.. that’s ella,’ you nod, not quite meeting his eyes, ‘..my daughter,’ taking the photo from lucas’ hand, the atmosphere had quite suddenly shifted and people begin to scatter, starting their own conversations so they don’t have to bare witness to this one.
‘oh.. oh, right.. well, congratulations then,’ the shadow of a smile on his lips, could he feel how fucking awkward this was?
‘thank you,’ giving him a half nod, startled as steve’s hand brushes the small of your back. he’d seen that you were in conversation and had left dustin to fulfil his security guard promise.
‘it’s nice that you two found each other.. you have a beautiful daughter,’ still not fully committed to smiling but he was getting there.
your face contorts, immediately looking to steve before letting out a god awful cackle, ‘oh no.. she’s not steve’s,’ covering your mouth before another taunting laugh comes out.
steve is trying to stifle his grin but fails, reaching his hand out to shake eddie’s hand, ‘ah man, no ella’s not mine but she is beautiful, isn’t she? how are you?’
you’re eternally grateful that he he’s managed to sway the conversation and you aren’t forced to explain why or how you’d had a child with jason fucking carver. turning back to robin as you hear steve ramble on about work and corroded coffin’s new album, something you had absolutely no care about.
‘shall we get another drink?’ robin asks, eyeing the open bar and your empty glass.
‘please.’
the rest of the night is going.. relatively well. it’s kinda unsettling to watch the younger kids drink legally, getting more boisterous and loud as the night progresses. it’s nice, if not a little sad just thinking about how you weren’t really able to enjoy yourself at their age because you had a newborn.
you must’ve been deep in thought as you don’t even notice eddie creep up to the empty table, standing awkwardly besides your chair, ‘can we talk?’
your eyes shoot up to meet his, baffled by his presence, ‘what could we possibly have to talk about?’
he exhales through his nose, ‘uh.. a lot? we don’t have to do it here.. i have a room upstairs or.. outside?’
‘no,’ gripping onto your glass of wine, desperately trying to grab the attention of someone behind eddie to come and save you, ‘i don’t want to speak to you.’
he’s exasperated, clutching onto his beer with strained white knuckles. how were you ever supposed to move past this when you wouldn’t even give him the opportunity to explain himself. but that was exactly it. you didn’t care about any of the silly excuses you’re sure he’d conjured up, he did what he did and that was that.
‘i’m trying here..’ sounding exasperated, ‘how ‘bout dinner? sometime this week, on me,’ his voice is deeper now, raspier. you figure as a result of constant partying and chain smoking while on tour.
‘i have a child and a job.. i don’t have time for dinner with you on top of that,’ swallowing the rest of the sweet white wine, putting the empty glass back on the table with a forceful slam.
you make brief eye contact with will who was passing behind eddie and decide to take the opportunity to pounce, standing from your chair and rushing over the second he nears your table.
‘will.. hey,’ speeding to catch him up, mouthing a small save me, clinging to his arm as you move away from eddie who was stood deflated at the table.
will thankfully catches your drift, steering you towards the bar, ‘you okay? i was just about to leave..’ placing his empty glass onto the bar with a soft sigh.
‘what? no.. if i can’t go then you’re not allowed either,’ talking sternly to the boy even though he now towered above you and just about everybody else in here.
he screws up his face, looking over to the dance floor, ‘it’s just..’ sighing once again, ‘awful, isn’t it?’ following his gaze to an intoxicated mike performing an elaborate air guitar routine in the middle of the floor.
it wasn’t exactly the same, but you could empathise with the difficult situation and that foul feeling in your stomach that you were sure he could feel too. you could imagine that it wasn’t easy to see the man you’d once, or perhaps still loved after so long. in fact, you didn’t really need to imagine at all.
deciding it was better to change the subject, distract him from the unraveling scene on the dance floor, ‘d’you smoke?’
he looks around quickly, watching out for a listening jonathan, you assume before he nods quickly, ‘but no one can know,’ a hint of a smile creeping onto his face.
you return the devilish grin before hooking your arm in his, pulling him towards the door where you could get the hell away from annoying men and their long black hair.
-
it’s gone three by the time you get back to steve’s, genuinely having to coax him from the party and into the cab you’d shared with a belligerent dustin, making sure he had got home safely.
‘i wasn’t too mean, was i?’ snuggled up in steve’s blankets, facing each other in the low light of his room.
‘nooo, no you were on fire,’ he laughs, he was still tipsy and slightly reeking of booze as he lay next to you.
‘really? you’re sure?’ he was definitely just drunk and blabbing on but you’d take it.
‘yes.. it was perfect,’ he hiccups, interrupting his sentence, ‘buuut.. and i’m not the only one who said this so don’t kill me..’ kissing the back of his teeth, ‘you’re not gonna like what i have to say.’
‘what? what is it?’ prodding his shoulder with a quick jab. knowing eddie, he’d probably gone round the party whispering some bullshit about the two of you.
‘well..’ holding his hands in the air, ‘there’s still chemistry there.. y’know i could see it,’ raising his eyebrows, hands collapsing onto the blanket.
‘right, i’m going to sleep.. you’re drunk and just saying stupid shit now,’ rolling your eyes as you settle into the soft pillow, closing your eyes so you no longer had to entertain his idiotic nonsense.
he chortles, hiccuping mid-laugh which makes a horrid choking noise, ‘i’m not that drunk.. robin said it too,’ the lamp clicks off, darkening the room, ‘and dustin..’
‘go to sleep steve,’ unamused and tired.
‘okay okay.. goodnight,’ he calls, you can hear the smile in his voice as he turns to face the other way, taking that as your opportunity to rest your head on his back, nuzzling into the soft cotton t-shirt.
-
monday is particularly awful and you’re reminded exactly why you don’t drink often. two days on and you’re still exhausted, half-heartedly filling the shelves and just trying to make it to two o’clock.
in your tired state, one of the bottles of shampoo you were putting out, falls out of your hand and rolls off somewhere down the aisle. you sigh, a deep, fed-up, exhaustive sigh and get up to go and fetch it when the bottle appears before your face, a tattooed, ring-filled hand latched onto it.
‘carver? really?’ eddie frowns, watching you from above, eyebrows furrowed together.
you place the bottle onto it’s rightful spot on the shelf and choose to ignore him. if he’d come all the way down here just to piss you off about your poor life choices then he could get fucked.
‘when’d that happen?’
blanking him again as you continue to put stuff onto the shelves. this was the easiest way to guarantee that you weren’t going to get yourself fired for being rude to him.
‘you gonna ignore me? i just wanna know,’ still poking and prodding, he clearly wasn’t very good at picking up on context clues.
nothing.
‘fuck, can you just talk to me for five minutes?’ your silence was driving him crazy, aggravating him to no end.
‘i’m at work, so no,’ hurriedly trying to finish the stock you had so you had an excuse to rush out the back and away from him.
he was fortunate that it was a quiet monday, the store full of mostly older ladies who had no idea who he was. you sorta hoped that he’d get mobbed and would have to hurry off and leave you alone.
‘why jason? out of literally everyone else in this shithole you choose jason?’ screwing his face up in disgust.
you slam the box cutter down with a loud clatter, causing a few turned heads and raised eyebrows. fuck ‘em. if you had done what you’d really wanted to do, you’d be locked up forever.
‘i don’t know if you remember this but my boyfriend of like, two years ran away and never came home so yeah.. that kinda fucked with me a little and lucky for me, jason carver was there and also hated my ex’s guts.. so it was perfect, you know?’ staring flatly at him, you were not dealing with his shit today.
eddie scoffs, ‘so you had a kid with him? and now.. what? you play happy families just to spite me? is that it?’
‘yes eddie, i had a whole child just to piss you off.’
he gawps back at you, clearly also did not possess the ability to sense sarcasm.
‘no,’ scowling at him, ‘it was an accident and now he’s.. i dunno, coaching basketball at some school in ohio or some shit.. why don’t you go and bother him?’
‘so you’re not together?’
you can only roll your eyes in response, in sheer disbelief that he’d made such a fuss because he couldn’t just outright ask if you were single.
un-fucking-believable.
you’ve had just about enough of this conversation, pulling your little trolley back towards the swing doors that lead to the warehouse. at least he wasn’t allowed in there.
‘wait! wait..’ he grabs onto the other side of the trolley, stopping you from walking off, ‘have dinner with me tonight or.. tomorrow?’ eyes big and pleading.
‘now why would i do that?’
‘because i want to explain myself.. i need to.’
one of the younger shoppers notices who he is and begins trying to talk to him, coming over to where you two stood rather excitedly. eddie is kind enough to smile and give her a few polite words, eyes still latched onto yours despite the ecstatic woman beside him.
‘okay,’ honestly just wanting to get away from all this commotion, ‘tomorrow.’
his scowl subsides, replaced by a gleaming grin, ‘six o’clock.. pino’s, i’ll sort it, okay?’ already starting to walk away from the crazy woman.
‘right,’ you nod, pulling your trolley away and into the back warehouse, leaning against the concrete wall. the whole exchange was tiring, knocking whatever tiny bit of energy out of you.
were you actually gonna go?
absolutely fucking not.
-
by the time six rolls around the next night, you really had forgotten all about it. rushing to get ella her dinner after swimming lessons, already worrying about paying for yet another field trip she’d sprung on you earlier. you’d begun to wonder if they even taught in the classrooms anymore with the amount of permission slips she brought home.
she’s finally settled into bed, after much protesting and a lot of coaxing. you’re just about to finally relax on the couch when someone hammers on your front door. and if you weren’t already pissed off with ella’s whining, you were most definitely about to be with whichever mindless prick was banging on your door.
‘what do you want?’ you hiss, jerking the door open to reveal a pathetic looking eddie on the other side, face forlorn and dejected.
he’s in that white shirt again. it makes you sick to your stomach to admit that it really does look good on him. his arms now more defined, the cotton sticking to his muscles, briefly showcasing the new tattoos underneath. maybe he’d actually got off of his ass and did something other than smoke weed all day.
‘oh so you are alive, d’you forget about something?’ he’s snarling now, having conjured up some elaborate excuse in his head as to why you hadn’t showed, only to find you at home, seemingly with no care in the world.
‘oops,’ the corners of your mouth twitching into a smile, you hadn’t even actually meant to stand him up, you were just gonna call his hotel and cancel but the thought had just completely slipped your mind.
and even if it shouldn’t, it really did feel good. knowing he was the one sat waiting for you for once.
‘oops? i sat there for an hour waiting for you and then spent the last hour trying to convince dustin to give me your fucking address.. and all you can say is oops?’
you shrug, ‘feels pretty shitty to be forgotten about, doesn’t it?’ tilting your head, watching as his face falls. he’d been got.
‘okay.. okay, i get it, and i’m sorry.. there’s not a day that goes by that i don’t feel like shit for how i treated you,’ his head dips low, looking particularly sorry for himself.
and for a second you do too. not that he deserved it. quickly having to remind yourself exactly what he had done to you, which was not at all helped by the fact that he now had everything he’d ever wanted in life.
and you couldn’t fault your life. truly. but fuck did it sting sometimes, to know that your life had stagnated, stuck in the same shitty town you’d grown up in while he was on the other side of the country, more money than sense and a hoard of doting fans that would do absolutely anything he’d ask of them.
‘good,’ you bark, going to slam the door shut only for it to bang against his black boot wedged in the door, ‘if you don’t move your foot i’ll- i’ll call the police.’
‘no you won’t,’ his hand reaches out to grab onto the other side of the handle, he could’ve easily pushed his way in if he’d really wanted, ‘let’s talk.. like adults,’ begging you now, ‘please.’
you huff, this would end with you either letting him in or being forced to wake ella after you bashed his head into the doorframe. it was easier to just accept the first option and you’d find some bullshit to get him to leave later on.
opening the door wider to let him in, keeping your eyes square on the ground as he walks through, peering around at your home. probably comparing it to his mansion in the hollywood hills the pretentious fuck.
‘nice..’ he nods, leaning in to look at the photo of you and ella a few christmas’ ago, she was tiny then, sporting a miniature santa hat.
‘yeah well, she’s asleep upstairs so.. make it quick,’ you frown, closing the door behind him, watching as his eyes take in the cluttered room, smile fading when he catches sight of the singular picture you have up of jason and ella.
‘i can’t believe you chose to fuck jason of all people.. i mean, i’ve made some shitty decisions in my life but..’ he stops himself from going any further when he sees your face, if looks could kill, he’d be long gone by now.
‘did you come here for a reason? or are you here to talk about my life decisions.. because i really don’t want to hear it from you,’ crossing your arms over your chest, wanting him out of your house.
‘no.. no, shit- i’m sorry,’ he shuffles on his feet, banging his head, ‘i wanna talk.. properly.’
you roll your hand to motion for him to continue, ‘go on..’
he inhales, chewing on the inside of his cheek, trying to psyche himself up to actually say what he wanted to say. it wasn’t that he didn’t know what to say, he just couldn’t string it together to make sense.
‘i’m sorry for the way i treated you.. it wasn’t right and i know that now,’ his hand coming to rub the back of his clammy next, why was your house so fucking hot?
‘okay.. apology accepted, was that everything?’ you say flatly, glancing up the stairs to make sure ella wasn’t awake and out of her room.
his face falls, ‘can you just.. just let me explain,’ his adam apple bobbing as he swallows, ‘why don’t you sit down..’ motioning towards your ratty couch.
you relent your stern stature, hesitantly going to sit on the couch, trying to ensure that he couldn’t possibly sit next to you by sprawling your legs out onto the empty cushion. so he takes the seat furthest away, running his hands down his tight jeans. designer, no less.. the only person you knew stupid enough to spend thousands on designer jeans just to tear holes in them.
‘when i ended things with you, i wasn’t.. well, it was me, but i had my manager screaming in my ear that it’d never work and he could hook me up with some fuckin’ model.. it’d help the band.. so that’s what i did,’ and for once, he looked genuinely remorseful, fiddling with the loose threads on his expensive jeans.
‘so you sold out? that’s your excuse?’
his head shoots up, mouth hung open with absolute disgust all over his face, ‘i am not a sell out.’
which is incredibly refutable, you’d heard a snippet of one of their recent songs on the radio at work and it had sounded exactly like the commercial shit he used to rag on when you were together. not a touch on the corroded coffin you sat and watched practice for hours on end.
‘oh? so you didn’t break up with me to further your career? you just wanted to fuck hot models? which one is it ‘cause i’m a little confused here,’ completely losing it, springing up from your slouched position.
‘okay, yeah.. yeah i did, i broke up with you because i wanted to fuckin’ make something of my life.. and look at where i am and look at-,’
‘-don’t you dare finish that sentence,’ you snap, gritting your teeth together as you near his face, positively shaking with rage.
‘what’re you gonna do? you gonna hit me? do it,’ his chin tilted to match your elevated position, eyes glued to yours.
‘i should.’
his lips twitch into a smirk, ‘you won’t.’
and before your brain has the time to really process your next movements, he balls his fist into your t-shirt, causing your chest to collide into his as his lips smash into yours, knocking the air out of your lungs.
scrambling to find his shoulders for balance, sliding one hand onto his stubbly cheek. it’s all teeth and tongues, he’s ravenous and unrelenting, letting go of his grip on your shirt to place his hands on your hips, ‘move,’ mumbling against your lips as he attempts to manoeuvre you onto his lap while twisting around.
he slides down the couch, keeping a solid hold of your body as you find the right position. your legs are either side of his waist, sliding into the gap between his body and the couch sitting right on his crotch. wasting absolutely zero time in connecting your lips against, honestly not wanting to run the risk of him opening his mouth and ruining this.
his large hands find solace on your ass, creeping up to remove the oversized shirt you’d thrown on. you place your hand above his, restricting him from moving any further. it’s not that you were embarrassed- okay, maybe you were a little. but your body had changed since becoming a mom and eddie had become accustomed to gorgeous models and perfect women that he’d certainly not want to see your boring, frumpy mom body.
he groans in protest, trying again to lift the shirt further only for your fingernails to dig into his hand, ‘no,’ speaking into the filthy kiss.
eddie pulls away from the kiss, fingers coming to gently brush the hair from your face, ‘you can’t be serious? i’ve seen it all before,’ he grumbles, fingers itching to try lift it again.
‘not like this you haven’t.. i just.. want it on, okay?’
‘no- why won’t you let me take this off?’ fingers curling around the hem, already trying his luck with getting it up again.
you sigh, meeting his blown out eyes with your glossy ones, ‘i don’t even know what i’m doing.. fuck,’ attempting to climb off of his lap while the spare hand he has on your ass clamps you down, keeping you pressed to him.
‘hey.. hey, keep it on.. i don’t care,’ already trying to chase your lips, ‘i’m just saying, you don’t need to,’ the denim covering his growing erection starting to rub against your throbbing clit, the sparse material of your pajama shorts were not leaving much to the imagination.
‘jesus christ, just take it off,’ giving up in your protest, it was useless against eddie’s persistence.
you press your lips to his the second your shirt is off, there was no time to judge your body if he couldn’t see it. pulling at his jacket to get it off, the metal buttons digging into your now bare skin.
‘i didn’t.. i didn’t mean.. what i said..’ babbling through the kiss as he shimmies out of the jacket, landing on the floor with a soft thud.
‘shut up,’ you whine, running your hand along the length of his chest until you reach the hem of his black shirt, gripping your fingers around the fabric and lifting it slightly, exposing his midriff, the soft trail of hair ascending the skin.
his head jerks backwards, allowing you to tug the shirt off, finally allowing his eyes to wander to your chest. ‘holy shit,’ he remarks like he’d never seen a pair of tits before. it’s futile for him to pretend that he hadn’t seen some amazing boobs in his time so you scoff, rolling your eyes.
working your hand at his belt buckle, fiddling with the metal until it pops undone. he’s hard already and it makes you groan, brushing your hand over the raised denim. this week seriously must’ve been difficult if he was getting hard so easily over you.
it doesn’t ever occur to you how much of a mistake this was. and even if it did, you didn’t have much time to ponder on it as his hands are grabbing at your breasts, palming them as his lips suck at your jaw and down onto your neck softly. guaranteed to leave a lovely violet mark that the old ladies at work would certainly gasp at.
he’s helping you with his jeans, one hand gripping onto your waist to keep you steady as he lifts his hips from the couch and the other hurriedly yanking them down just enough to reveal his boxers. that’s the next port of call, fingers grabbing at the thin black cotton, pulling them down his thighs as his cock springs into action.
eddie’s lips are still on your neck while you mindlessly wrap your hand around his cock, pumping your fist as you shuffle upwards. his breath hitches in his throat, still peppering sloppy kisses to the sensitive skin.
‘oh god,’ he whines into your collarbone, feeling his eyelashes flutter against your jaw. for a man who had been painted as womaniser in the media, he sure was still just as pathetic as he used to be underneath you.
you’re a little annoyed that it’s you who’s taking control right now. after so many years of disrespect from his end, you think he at least owed it to you to take charge.
your hand grabs onto his shoulder, pulling his face from your neck, ‘be quiet, okay?’ sitting taller to position yourself comfortably, the harsh fabric of the couch grazing your knees.
he nods, sliding his hand up your waist and back to your hip, taking in the sight of you. you wouldn’t ever admit it aloud, but truthfully, you really did miss him sometimes. missed the way his pretty pink lips looked after being glued to yours or the way he gazed at you doing the most mundane tasks.
you cant your hips, sinking down onto his length slowly, biting down onto your bottom lip as his cock fills you to the hilt. his eyelids flicker, fingernails digging into your doughy hips. it’s been a little while since you’d done this so you have to take a second to become accustomed to the slight stretch. it’s good, in the most masochistic way.
your hands cling onto his shoulders, watching his slack jaw, tiny breaths escaping from his mouth as you attempt to move. painstakingly slow at first, knees beginning to shake as you try to remember what you should even be doing. your cheeks flushing, feeling so incredibly embarrassed. the man was fucking models and then you’re here, pitifully trying to ride him. it’s awful, you know it’s awful.
his arm comes to snake around your waist, taking matters into his own hands and flipping the two of you around, your back suddenly pressed into the couch. holy shit. you appreciate the initiative, wrapping your legs around his waist, readjusting your grip on his shoulders.
‘need you a little faster than that darling,’ large hands digging into the couch either side of your head. you’d feel utterly mortified if you weren’t thoroughly enjoying the sight of him looming over you, his hair falling beautifully into your face.
eddie starts slow at first, moving his hips slowly, obviously well versed. your mouth opens but no noise escapes, well aware that you weren’t the only ones in your house. instead you pant softly, desperate for his lips to grace yours again.
it’s not long before he’s quickening his pace, unable to contain himself when you feel so perfect around him. ‘i missed you- fuck, i’ve missed you so much,’ he groans, keeping his voice low despite wanting to start screaming.
you don’t reply, too fucked-out to even think about words. eyes drooping as his cock nudges against the soft spongy spot no one other than him had been able to reach.
the couch creaks beneath you, the old thing unable to keep up with his rutting hips, the top of your head knocking into the arm rest every time his hips collided with yours. your living room had never bore witness to such filth and as quiet as you were trying to be, the sounds are indistinguishable.
having to bite down onto your lip when his thumb meets your clit, legs tightening around his waist with every soft circle he draws around the sensitive bud. eddie was never bad in bed but holy shit, maybe money had done something right for him.
he sits up, soft sighs falling out of his lips as his hand disconnects from your clit, sliding toward your knee and positioning your leg onto his shoulder. your nails press into his forearm, willing yourself to stay quiet even now he’s seemingly trying to kill you.
and through it all, he’s smirking. relishing the way you’re writhing around, trying not to cum when he nudges against that sweet, spongy spot this position allowed.
his thumb finds your clit again, ‘holy shit sweetheart.. you gonna cum?’ grunting softly with every thrust.
you’re positively wrecked beneath him, face pressed into the couch cushion as your stomach flips. panting into the fabric, incoherent ramblings of eddie’s name and a bunch of curse words fill the room.
‘cum for me baby.. shit,’ struggling to keep his own pace as you tighten around him, leg trembling around his neck as your orgasm takes over. pleasure overtaking your limbs as your hips buck instinctively, thankfully muffled by the couch.
‘oh my god,’ you breathe, struggling to see straight when your eyes eventually reopen, gazing up at eddie above, certain he’s about to draw blood from his teeth digging in to his lip.
‘where.. where shall i- shit,’ he squeezes out, feeling his hips begin to stutter, eyes rolling to the back of his head. he’s just about quick enough to pull out, thick ropes of cum paint your thighs. narrowly avoiding the couch.
if you had the energy to get annoyed, you would’ve snapped, but in all honesty, your brain was still reeling and anger was the last thing you felt.
eddie reaches over, ever the gentleman and grabs his shirt to clean his mess. didn’t matter to him obviously, he had more than enough money to buy another.
and there it is. the bitterness filling your body again the second he’s no longer on top of you, or inside of you rather. you attempt to bite it down.
‘you wanna talk now?’ he asks, pulling his boxers back up to a more respectable position.
‘i’m tired eddie,’ and you are, on a school night like tonight you’d have been fast asleep by now.
he sighs, shoulders slumping over. even after you’d just had the most mind-altering sex, you couldn’t speak to him. ‘please,’ pleading with you almost, desperate for one more chance.
maybe it’s the exhaustion or maybe the dopamine still pumping through your brain but you concede, pulling your shirt back over your head before motioning for him to speak.
‘i don’t have any excuses, i’m just-,’ he sighs, turning on the couch to face you fully, ‘i’m sorry for hurting you, i was wrong and i know that,’ his eyes are dipped, peering at you from underneath his spindly lashes, ‘why d’you think i’ve avoided this place for so long?’
‘i don’t know? because you’re a pussy? because you’re too scared to face me?’ letting the words rattle off your tongue without much thought.
‘because i’m embarrassed,’ he corrects, without much offence, ‘because i’m ashamed and feel like i owe you more than some dick and a shitty apology.. i just didn’t know how i could ever make it up to you,’ half-moon eyes glossy in the low light.
your heart thumps in your chest, blood echoing through your ears. eddie munson, world renowned rockstar was sat on your couch, apologising for something you should’ve forgotten about a long time ago.
the years of hatred and avoidance come tumbling down in a millisecond. all you’d ever wanted was to hear him say sorry. to admit that he’d fucked you over for a life of fame and now you had it, you weren’t exactly sure what to even do with it.
‘okay.. now what? are you gonna make it up to me? because i want to believe you eddie, i do.. but you can’t just traipse in here and expect me to forgive you like that,’ the tears roll over, sliding down your warm cheeks.
he nods, grabbing onto your hands in a last ditch gesture to show his sincerity, ‘i’m going to.. i-i want to,’ he’s still nodding, bringing his face closer to yours, ‘tell me how, i’ll do anything,’ adam’s apple bobbing with every word.
‘stay here,’ your eyes are trained on him, ignoring the blurred vision, ‘not forever, just for now,’ lips pursed, ready to be broken once more.
you half-expect him to come out with some sorry excuse, tell you he had to get back to his hotel so he couldn’t possible stay here.
but he doesn’t.
eddie takes your hand, tugging it gently and with words you don’t register, babbles something about bed. so you follow him, allowing him to guide you to your room and slide in between the sheets next to you.
everything is so gentle, soft and pure. something you hadn’t felt in a long time.
-
‘hey.. sweetheart,’ eddie’s hand gently shakes your arm, whispering into your ear, ‘you awake?’
you squint in the dim light, feeling his hand descend onto your waist, chest pressed against your back, ‘i am now,’ you grumble, it was early.. early even by ella’s standards.
‘i gotta go.. you got work today?’ he asks, making no effort to actually get up and leave your bed though.
you nod into the pillow, rubbing your sleep heavy eyes. in your sleep hazed state, you shuffle, moving backwards against him.
‘okay.. shit- don’t do that,’ strained as you shift against him, unknowingly brushing against his cock, ‘i’ll be back.. after you..’ he’s losing it a little now, ‘after you finish..’ lips pressed to your ear.
you were moving deliberately now, just ever-so-slightly rocking your hips back and forth, you could feel him growing against your ass.
‘i can’t..’ he groans, grip tightening on your hip,
‘please,’ you breathe, reaching backwards to find his mop of curls, taking a fistful for leverage as his own hip’s thrust into your backside, his low growls only spurring you on.
you had been on your own for so long now, could he really blame you?
eddie doesn’t leave for another hour, creeping out of your house with his head low and a shit eating grin plastered on his face.
-
the key turns in your door as you’re loading the dishwasher. you’d given steve a spare for emergencies but it seemed to get used for anything but.
he slinks into the kitchen where you stand with your back to him, ‘hey,’ already knowing who it was.
‘well hello,’ announcing his presence, something about his tone of voice already seemed off, he sounded short, annoyed almost, ‘how have you been?’
‘i’m good..’ you spin to face him, puzzled by his strange demeanour, ‘how are you?’
he’s holding onto something behind his back but you can’t quite catch a glimpse, ‘actually.. i’m a little pissed off,’ you can tell he’s not completely serious by the hint of a smile on his face.
‘hmm? why’s that?’
he looks around the room expectedly, ‘oh i don’t know.. you don’t have anything to tell me, do you?’ shaking his head, still gripping onto this mystery object.
‘no..’ narrowing your eyes, determining whether he knew what you thought he knew.
he did, he one hundred percent did. holy fuck. he’d figured you out already. eddie had opened his big, stupid mouth and told dustin, who would’ve told steve and god knows who else. fucking moron.
‘no? soo..’ his pulls the magazine from behind his back, flipping it to the page he’d already saved, ‘this isn’t real then?’ shoving the glossy pages into your face, ‘because to me.. this looks an awful lot like eddie.. at this very house,’ he jabs his finger at the pixelated image, ‘and this little blob here.. that’s you, no?’
you’re utterly gobsmacked. mouth hung open in pure shock. because that most definitely was eddie.. and your house.. and you. you hadn’t seen anyone with a camera, hell, you hadn’t seen anyone on the street at all.
‘and correct me if i’m wrong, but is this not our friend eddie leaving your house the next morning?’ showing the next image of him leaving your house the day after, hair unruly and messed up, holding his denim jacket in his arms as he climbs into his car.
your mouth moves but no words come out, croaking as you struggle to meet steve’s eyes. completely speechless, there was no feasible excuse. you had been caught with your pants down. literally.
‘i can explain,’ waving your hands around while steve stands smug against the kitchen counter. ‘..no i can’t,’ shoulders slumped as you blink at your best friend, no you really couldn’t. suppose you could’ve come up with some lie about a look-a-like you’d been seeing but that would’ve made you look particularly strange.
‘were you ever gonna tell me?’ he’s almost hurt that you hadn’t ran to him to tell him immediately. this was true best friend gossip and you’d kept him from it.
‘i was! steve.. i don’t even know what happened- he came over to apologise and then we were arguing and then.. then we had sex and it’s not my fault..’ you’re trying, and failing, to contain your smile, flashing your cheeky grin to your best friend in the hopes he would let this slide.
‘i can’t believe you didn’t tell me!’ jutting his bottom lip out, ‘so, you’re getting back together?’ his eyes sceptical yet sparkling with a sense of hope. you’re grateful that all he seems to care about is the fact you lied. or actually, withheld the truth as you preferred it.
‘no.. well.. no, we had dinner together yesterday and he might’ve stayed over but no..’ shaking your head, ‘he’s leaving again soon and we both know what happened last time..’ you shrug, leaning back against the counter, ‘i guess i don’t hate him now, that’s good isn’t it?’
steve looks perplexed, ‘wait wait wait.. so you’re just.. screwing around? and then he leaves again, that’s it? what’s the point?’ taking a seat at the small kitchen table, fully engrossed in the conversation.
‘i dunno.. i guess that’s it?’ you hadn’t really thought about the fact that he’d be leaving again, in fact, you hadn’t really had time to think much at all about what was happening.
you’d just sort of acknowledged that at some point he’d go back to california and you’d stay here and whatever was happening would.. end? it wasn’t as if you were going to be super upset about it like you once were. lots of people fuck their ex’s.. this was fine.
because that’s what this is, right?
just sex with an ex?
‘that’s it?’ steve reiterates, looking completely flabbergasted that the woman who once left the room whenever eddie munson’s name was mentioned was now being so casual about this.
‘yeah,’ you shrug, not wanting to make a massive deal out of it though you could always rely on steve to be over dramatic on your behalf.
‘no,’ he straightens up in the chair, ‘all of this can’t be for nothing,’ sounding utterly exasperated, ‘you two obviously belong together so why don’t you go for it? i could see you living it up out in la.. big house, big car-,’
you cut him off before he can divulge into his delusions any further, ‘i think you’re getting ahead of yourself steve,’ shaking your head at his ludicrous attitude.
you’d be lying if you said you hadn’t thought about it once or twice but it seemed silly to start imagining this crazy life together after all these years. he’d barely just made it into your good graces again, you were hardly going to run off to california with him. it was utter delusion.
‘okay okay..’ he scoffs, ‘but i still think you need to talk to him. i don’t want you getting hurt again, okay? just make sure that you’re both on the same page,’ nodding as he stands from his seat and begins to rummage through your cupboards for something to eat.
he was probably right and you knew it deep down. you weren’t keen on being the one to bring the conversation up, not after that first night. after you had sobbed in his arms in bed, letting him soothe you to sleep with a bunch of probable empty promises.
-
when eddie lets himself into your house a few hours later, steve’s eyebrows fly up his forehead but he doesn’t say a word. instead, he nods at the man, keeping his opinions to himself.
the pair of you resemble an old married couple, except you’re the grumpy old man with your wife cuddled into your side. your wife being steve that is.
‘oh.. is this uh, something that happens often?’ eddie asks, settling into the empty chair across from you. slightly miffed that steve was nestled into your side.
‘yup,’ you nod, smiling at him your chin resting on steve’s head. he hadn’t a reason to be jealous, you’d really rather poke your eyeballs out with a fork than do anything remotely sexual with steve.
‘right.. yeah okay,’ eddie says, looking perplexed but sitting back in the chair. if he was going to stick around then this would have to be something that he got used to. because you sure as hell weren’t going to stop being so close with steve for the guy that broke your heart at eighteen.
‘you want a drink?’ you ask, realising that you should probably be a good host even if it was only eddie.
‘yeah sure.’
you untangle yourself from steve and trundle off into the kitchen. steve takes this as the perfect opportunity to grill eddie on his intentions, sitting up straight and making sure that you were really gone before beginning his interrogation.
‘so.. you two?’
eddie shrugs, not wanting to get into it with steve after such a long day.
steve sighs, leaning toward eddie, ‘i’m gonna say this once.. but if you hurt her again, i will kill you,’ staring the other man down. contempt in his eyes. he was dead serious too.
‘i’m not- i’m not gonna hurt her,’ eddie sits up, praying that you’d hurry back with this damn drink.
‘i mean it eddie,’ raising his eyebrows, ‘you didn’t see how she was after you left.. i’m not going through that again, i’m not letting her go through that again.’
‘steve-,’ eddie blinks, stopping himself as you re-enter the room. hoping that you hadn’t heard their conversation, he’d only just got you to stop hating him. he wasn’t prepared to go back to that like, ever.
‘what’re you talking about?’ placing the bottle of beer in front of eddie and collapsing back into your spot on the couch.
‘football,’ steve answers quickly, groaning as he pushes himself off of the sofa, ‘i’m gonna head home, got work in the morning but i’ll see you tomorrow,’ he smiles, winking at you from above.
‘okay,’ you utter, sounding more like a question than a statement, watching carefully as he gathers his things without so much as a glance at eddie. you can only imagine what was actually said but that was truly none of your business.
you’d just grill eddie later to make sure steve hasn’t been too much of an asshole.
‘byee,’ you call out behind him, already eyeing a sheepish eddie. this’d probably be it. you’d known it was coming at some point, you just weren’t sure of when.
if steve’s sudden departure was anything to go off, you were probably right.
the door clicks shut and you turn your attention to eddie who was still sat on the solemn chair. oh god. maybe you had got a little used to having him around again and now to know that it’d all be coming to an abrupt end once again.. yeah you felt a tad shit.
‘what’d you say?’ you ask outright, it made zero sense to beat around the bush.
‘me?’ he looks almost offended, ‘i didn’t say shit.. didn’t get the chance to,’ but he’s smiling ever so slightly and your heart relaxes.
christ you were so stupid. letting him back into your life just to let him walk away a second time. perhaps you’d done something horrific in a past life to deserve this same fate twice.
‘so what did he say?’ you press, unsure of if your even wanted the answer.
eddie sighs before coming to collapse on the couch next to you, ‘it wasn’t important.. look, i wanna be honest with you,’ his hand comes to grab yours and you freeze, bracing yourself for what was inevitably going to come next. ‘you mean a lot to me and.. and i don’t want you to think that i don’t care or that i’m just leaving you again,’ his eyes are focussed on yours, full of what you hope is sincerity.
you don’t reply, instead you nod slightly and urge him to continue. this was it. the kicker. 
‘i’ve gotta go back to la next week,’ his grip tightens around your hand, ‘but i’m coming back as soon as i can, okay?’ he’s serious too and you’d like to believe him but if the past was anything to go by, you weren’t eager.
you nod silently. fuck this. once again, you were sat before eddie munson, listening to his plans to jet off to la. it felt like the cruelest case of deja-vu. if anything, you want to kick yourself for even allowing him to wiggle his way back into your heart. most people know better after the first time.
‘it’s three weeks.. maybe a month, but i’m coming back, i promise,’ he pleads, hanging his head low. he knows there’s absolutely nothing he could say to you that would make you believe him but he had to try.
you hum, frowning just a little before finally replying, ‘i’ve heard that before,’ not meaning to sound as snarky as you did, but it was true.
‘i’m serious, i’m not.. not gonna lose you again, i’ve learnt my lesson,’ his eyes are big and pleading and you’re thrown right back to being eighteen, listening to him convince you how going to la would be the best decision.
‘so.. what? you’re gonna come back to hawkins just to see me? i don’t-,’ you sigh, as much as you wanted to believe him, it just wasn’t plausible in your mind, ‘i just don’t understand, are we together or are you just coming back to fuck? you don’t have to, you know? i’ve made peace with it all and i’m fine.. you don’t have to lie to me anymore.’
if anyone was going to fuck this up, it would be you. that’s for certain.
‘what the fuck?’ he exclaims, genuinely flabbergasted, ‘this is me telling you that i’m serious about this.. about you,’ he takes your hand into his properly, scooting around to face you fully, ‘i love being here with you, and ella and there is nothing out in la worth more than this,’ you think he might just start crying, or you might. or perhaps both of you.
you sniff, not wanting to speak in fear of bursting into hysterics. it was all just so confusing and weird. you’d grown accustomed to eddie being on the other side of the country and now suddenly he was back in your life with what seemed like a a declaration of love. it was just too much to handle. and maybe you blame yourself a little, for not truly thinking about the implications of fucking your ex that had abandoned you years prior. but now it all just seemed to be hurtling in the most intense direction.
you were the one that had told him to stay after all. because really, you could’ve kicked him out, refused to ever even acknowledge him again. but you hadn’t.
‘are you telling me the truth?’ is all that you manage to squeak out. baring resemblance to a small child.
you really must’ve looked pathetic, eyes brimming with tears, bottom lip quivering as you hold in the implosion of emotions. it’s always scary being vulnerable with someone, let alone someone that once meant so much to you.
he still did. as much as you’re absolutely petrified to admit it, he’d weaselled his way back into your heart and now here you are, a mess of emotions and perplexing feelings that are too complicated to handle.
‘i promise you,’ he sighs, clearly fed up of your whining, ‘i’m coming back this time.’
and maybe you’re stupid. maybe you’re still hung up on some high school relationship that ended long ago but you can’t help it, you nod.
idiotically believing him because what else can you do after letting him into your home and your heart again.
#eddie munson#eddie munson smut#eddie munson x reader#eddie munson fanfic#eddie munson angst#eddie munson x y/n#eddie munson fluff#eddie munson stranger things#eddie munson x female reader
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Race cars -W2S
words: 0.9k+
warnings: pregnancy.
summary: you, your baby daddy and the rest of the group spend a day at the F1 - British Grand Prix.
notes: Hello loves! This was requested on my wattpad🫶🏼. I don’t know much about f1 so that part of this fic is pretty vague but I hope you enjoy!!😚💕
A few weeks ago the boys were invited to watch the an f1 race and were told that they could each bring a plus one. Ethan chose Faith, Simon chose Talia, Josh chose Freya, Vik chose Ellie, JJ chose Callux, Tobi chose Calfreezy and Harry chose me.
The past few months of mine and Harry's life have been pretty crazy due to the fact I found out that I was pregnant. It wasn't planned but I've been with Harry for almost six years so it was a happy surprise.
Today is the day of the race. I woke up wrapped in my boyfriend's arms, one of his hands gently resting on my growing baby bump. I slid out of bed and shuffled into the bathroom to begin getting ready.
I took a quick shower, styled my hair, applied some makeup then picked out a cute but comfortable outfit. Once I was finished Harry was already up and in the kitchen making us both breakfast.
"Good morning my love." He smiled wildly at me as I sat down on one of the stools at our breakfast bar. "Morning. You exited for today?" I asked cheerly. "Yeah! Can't wait. The group chat has been blowing up since last night, everyone's really excited." He replied, plating up our food.
After eating Harry got ready into a relatively fancy outfit (well, what Harry considers fancy) and soon we were in a taxi on our way to Silverstone.
When we arrived I text the girls and they told me that they were already inside. I opened the back door of the taxi to see Harry already waiting there. He put out his hand and I graciously took it. He helped me to stand up then we headed towards the entrance.
"Hi!" I let go of Harry's hand when I spotted the girls. We each shared a hug and they were quick to comment on my growing stomach. "You look so cute." "I can't believe you're actually gonna have a baby!" I smiled. "I know. Oh and guess what!" "What?" Faith tilted her head to the side. "I felt the baby kick last night." I replied. All three of them stared at me for a second before bright smiles spread across their faces.
The night before I was sat in bed when I felt a flutter in my stomach. You couldn't see or feel it from the outside but the doctor had told me what to look out for so I knew it was the baby. When I told Harry a cute smile graced his features.
Once I said hello to the boys we all got settled in our seats, ready to watch the race. When the green flag was waved everyone suddenly became very focused. I sat between Harry and Talia, my hand gently resting on my small bump.
After almost an hour I got up to use the bathroom. "You alright love?" Harry asked. "Mhm," I hummed. "Just going to the toilet. I'll be back in a minute." I smiled lightly. He nodded then returned his attention back to the large outdoor tv screen that showed the parts of the track we couldn't see.
I made my way down the stairs and I walked towards the toilets. Just as I got there someone stopped me. "Excuse me?" I turned around. A teenage boy stood in front of me. "Are you Wroetoshaw's girlfriend?" He asked. "Uh- yes I am." I replied. "Could I please get a pic?" He was polite so I agreed. "Oh and congratulations by the way." He glanced at my stomach. I smiled. "Thank you." He nodded with a smile then he walked away happily.
When I returned to my seat I told Harry about the interaction. "I forgot that people don't know about the baby." He replied. "Well they'll probably know after today." I said quietly, carful not to annoy anyone around us trying to watch the race. "That's not a bad thing though, we didn't want it to be a big deal, right?" "Yeah, I'm a little sad that it won't be our little secret anymore though."
Since I'm not really on social media we hadn't even thought about telling the fans since it wasn't like I needed to hide it in pictures or anything. But when they find out they find out we're not that bothered about it.
Once the race ended we all headed to a nearby restaurant to get some lunch. We ordered our food then began having separate conversations. Me and the girls chatted away about what we'd all been up to recently while the boys discussed an upcoming sidemen video.
Later that night as me and Harry lay next to each other in bed he turned his phone around so I could see it. "Look." The screen showed an instagram post with a picture of me and Harry sat at the f1 race, my hand perched on my obvious baby bump. The caption read "congratulations are in order for w2s and his girlfriend y/n! The couple were seen earlier today with the rest of the sidemen at the f1 British Grand Prix and y/n seems to be pregnant! Nothing has been confirmed by them as of yet but fans are extremely excited about the news."
I smiled. "Well, I guess now everyone knows." Harry put the phone down, shuffling closer to me and pulling me into his chest. "I'm glad. It's been hard keeping the biggest thing in my life a secret. The amount of times they've had to cut stuff out of the podcast because I accidentally let something slip." He replied. I chuckled then let out a content sigh as we both slowly drifted into a deep sleep.
#w2s#wroetoshaw#harry lewis#harry w2s#harry wroetoshaw#w2s x reader#w2s fic#w2s imagine#wroetoshaw x reader#wroetoshaw oneshot#harry x reader#harry lewis x reader#youtuber x reader#sidemen x reader#british youtubers#fanfic#image#oneshot#x fem!reader#x female reader#x y/n#x you#x reader#fluff#f1#formula 1
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the missing melody ♪
pairing : franco colapinto x singer!reader
faceclaim : various people!
summary : after several months of silence, Y/N L/N, a renowned singer, unexpectedly surfaces at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, leaving everyone wondering about her disappearance. Her arrival catches the eye of a talented rookie driver, intrigued by her in many ways then one.
part 1 out of unknown parts
warnings : some singers do not exist in this au since i might take their songs! read my note before reading!
note : first smau! Let me know in the comments for feedback! I actually had inspiration for this one. i don't think this is too long or too short, so expect the next parts to be the same length! this will be at the cota race in austin in october but with the the baku results because thats when they both got points (the william drivers). i
── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──
F1GOSSIP just posted
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F1GOSSIP after several months of speculation and silence, y/n l/n resurfaced this weekend at a grand prix, and fans are buzzing! our sources say that y/n has always been a f1 fan but has never actually been to a grand prix! why now? did she get bored doing what she was doing? why was she gone for so long?
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username1 WHATTT?!?
username2 wait? MY QUEEN?!?
username3 where? i’m here also!! where is she?!?
username4 she’s still so pretty 😍
username5 NO WAY YOURE LYING?!!?
username6 no one understands how bad i missed y/n!!!
username7 i almost had a heart attack oh my FUCK
username8 i’m totally not freaking out rn 😊😊
username9 i used to pray for times like this 🙏🙏🙏🙏
username10 DOES THIS MEAN MORE MUSIC? PLEASE ITS BEEN MONTHS IM STARVING!
yourusername added to their story
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username1 we missed you y/n!
f1 hi y/n! we’d love to have you come down and join us in the paddock! let us know if you’re interested!
y/n’s pov
I stare at the text message from the F1 account on Instagram, my thumb hovering over the screen. It’s been months—months of quiet, isolation, and letting the world forget me while I tried to remember myself. I glance around the room, so used to its stillness. The familiar hush, once comforting, now feels almost suffocating. Outside the window, life goes on, people go on, and I’m here, still debating whether I’m ready to step back into it.
My eyes drift over the message again. Maybe it’s time. Time to hear the noise, to feel the movement, to breathe in more than just silence. I sigh, gathering the courage I didn’t realize I still had in me. With a deep breath, I pick up my phone and click on the message. It’s time to be out there again.
messages
I turn off my phone and place it face down on the table, the screen going black as if signaling the shift I’m about to make. My eyes wander out the window, where the grandstands loom in the distance, already buzzing with life and anticipation. A knot of nerves twists in my stomach as I realize what stepping back into the limelight really means. After months of silence, the thought of all those eyes on me again makes my breath catch in my throat.
I close my eyes for a moment, taking in a few deep breaths, willing myself to calm down. The air feels cool and crisp against my skin, a slight contrast to the rising anxiety inside me. Reaching for the complimentary bottle of sparkling water on the table, I unscrew the cap, the soft hiss breaking the quiet. I take a sip, hoping the bubbles will settle me.
Just as I set the bottle back down, I catch movement out of the corner of my eye—someone walking toward my table. My heart skips a beat, but before I can gather my thoughts to say something, they speak first, breaking the moment.
“You must be Y/N! Hi, I’m Diana (not relevant to anyone irl), here to guide you down and give you the paddock tour!” Her smile radiates warmth, as if it spreads from her lips all the way down to her toes, instantly putting me at ease.
I return the smile, though mine is softer, still testing the waters. “Yes, that’s me.” My voice feels steady, which is a small relief.
I stand up from my seat, taking a moment to smooth down my outfit. Carefully, I push the chair back into place, making sure every movement is deliberate, giving myself just a little more time to adjust. I reach for my phone, sliding it into my back pocket, the familiar weight grounding me. Then I pick up my purse, feeling its soft leather strap slide over my shoulder as I take a deep breath.
“Ready?” she asks, her eyes sparkling with excitement.
I nod, feeling a mix of anticipation and nerves swirl inside me as I let her lead the way, stepping back into a world I’ve been away from for so long.
As we make our way through the winding hallways of the paddock, the hum of activity grows louder with each step. My heart beats in time with the click of my heels on the hard floor, and I can feel the familiar rush of anticipation building as we head down the stairs toward the grid. With each step, I mentally brace myself for the crowd—the faces, the voices, the attention. It’s been so long since I’ve been in the thick of it all, and I silently rehearse how to hold myself together.
Just as my nerves start to rise, Diana slows her pace and falls into step beside me. Her presence is steady, comforting. “If you ever want to head back up during your time down here, just let me know,” she says gently, her voice low enough that it feels like she’s speaking just to me, despite the noise around us. “The team let me know you might be feeling a bit nervous with how sudden all this is.”
Her words catch me off guard, and my heart skips a beat, warmth spreading through me. The thought that the team has gone out of their way to make sure I’m okay—that they’re taking precautions for me—feels incredibly thoughtful, almost protective. It’s more than I expected.
I can’t help but grin, the tension in my chest loosening just a bit. “That’s really sweet, thank you,” I say, my voice light with gratitude. Knowing they’ve got my back makes everything feel a little less daunting.
I smile as I hear the start of one of my songs, love story , start playing (by taylor swift) in the background. As I start to hum, my phone dings.
I took my phone out of my back pocket and looked to see a message from Williams Racing on instagram.
messages
I slip my phone back into my pocket, feeling its familiar weight settle against my hip. Turning my attention to Diana, I notice she’s mid-conversation, her voice lilting as she discusses the unusually warm weather for this time of year. The sun beats down, making the air almost sticky, and I can feel a light sheen of sweat beginning to form at the back of my neck. I clear my throat with a small cough to get her attention before speaking.
“I’ll be alright now,” I say, my voice sounding steadier than I feel. “I got invited to the Williams garage.”
Her eyebrows lift in mild surprise, and she tilts her head with a curious smile. “Oh? That’s nice. I can walk you there if you’d like,” she offers, a hint of genuine warmth in her tone as she falls into step beside me.
I nod gratefully, returning her smile. “Thanks, I’d appreciate it.”
As we make our way through the crowded paddock, the buzz of activity surrounds us. The hum of engines revving in the distance, the faint scent of burning rubber, and the excited chatter of fans create a sensory tapestry that is unmistakably Formula 1. The Williams garage is up ahead, its blue and white banners standing out among the sea of team colors.
Just as we draw closer, I spot a familiar figure—Mr. Vowles, the team principal, standing by the entrance, his hands clasped behind his back as he speaks with a group of engineers. There’s a calm authority in his posture, even as the hustle of the race weekend unfolds around him.
My pulse quickens as we draw even closer to the Williams garage. The flurry of activity around us feels almost suffocating, and I can’t help but notice the curious glances from passersby. It’s my first public appearance after months of being away, and the weight of those unsaid questions hangs heavy in the air.
As we approach the entrance, Mr. Vowles looks up from his conversation, sensing our presence. His expression shifts from concentration to a welcoming grin, the lines around his eyes crinkling with warmth. “There you are,” he says, his voice carrying a tone of easy familiarity. “Hello, Y/N! I’m James Vowles, but please, just call me James.”
He extends a hand, his demeanor friendly and inviting despite the bustling surroundings. There’s a hint of recognition in his gaze—like he’s aware of who I am, or maybe just curious about the singer who suddenly vanished from the limelight.
I hum softly, finding my voice as I step forward to shake his hand. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, James.” I offer a small smile, hoping it comes across as more confident than I feel. “Thank you for offering up your garage for me. I appreciate the hospitality.”
His grin widens, and there’s a flicker of something in his eyes—respect, perhaps, or a subtle acknowledgment of the unspoken stories that linger between us. “Our pleasure. It’s not every day we have a special guest with such a storied background. You’re more than welcome here.”
Diana hums thoughtfully and glances at James, a playful glint in her eye. “I leave her in your care,” she says with a smile, her tone light but sincere. She then turns to me, her expression softening. “It was nice to meet you, Y/N. Until next time,” she adds, giving me a small wave before turning on her heel and walking off, her figure soon blending into the sea of people.
I’m left standing at the entrance of the garage, the faint sounds of machinery and chatter surrounding me as I take in the unfamiliar scene. There’s a moment of hesitation, the feeling of being out of place creeping in despite the warm welcome.
“So… what now?” I say, glancing up at James with a faint chuckle to mask my uncertainty. “I’ve never been to one of these before. No idea what I’m supposed to do.”
James chuckles at my honesty, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Well, I’m sure Diana gave you a good tour around the paddock and the grid,” he says, crossing his arms casually. “But how about meeting the drivers? I’m sure Alex and Franco can spare a few minutes to say hello.”
There’s a friendly enthusiasm in his voice, as if he’s eager to make me feel at home in this high-octane world. The idea of meeting the drivers piques my curiosity, and a hint of nervous excitement stirs within me.
I perk up at the suggestion, though the flutter of nervousness in my chest is hard to ignore. Meeting the drivers feels like venturing into unfamiliar territory—a glimpse behind the curtain that I’m not entirely sure I’m prepared for. I’ve spent so long away from the public eye that even casual encounters seem daunting, like I’m out of practice.
“That sounds great,” I reply, managing a genuine smile despite the unease tightening in my chest. “I’d love to meet them.” My voice wavers just a little, betraying the anxious energy simmering beneath the surface. “I’ve seen Alex race on TV before, but I’ve never actually met a driver… or been this close to the action.” I laugh softly, hoping it comes off as lighthearted rather than strained.
“Lead the way?” I add, glancing at James with a mix of eagerness and uncertainty, my hands fidgeting at my sides. There’s excitement, yes, but also the familiar weight of anxiety, making me wonder if I’ll manage to fit into this world—or if I’ll just feel out of place all over again.
f1 just posted!
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f1 a little birdie told us y/n is in the williams hospitality! it looks like williams was the only team to invite y/n inside or the only team she was interested in? #F1
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username11 i doubt williams was the only team to invite her!
username7 why’re you making it sound like the other teams dislike her? 😭
username2 i still can’t believe y/n is outside 😧
williamsracing the little birdie is correct! she’s safe and sound with us! 💙
↳username11 does this mean she’s meeting the boys???
↳williamsracing she’s about too!
username3 but what does this mean musically? is she back? #imdelusional
third pov
James had sent a message to the drivers’ group chat well before inviting Y/N to the garage, giving them a heads-up to expect a couple of guests later in the day. In the text, he made it clear that they should stay put in Franco’s room and be on the lookout for their arrival. With James’s usual eye for organization, he had made sure to emphasize the importance of keeping things discreet, hoping to avoid any unnecessary chaos in the busy environment.
Inside Franco’s room, the air buzzed lightly with anticipation. Alex and Franco were seated on the worn leather couch, chatting casually about their upcoming schedules. The conversation meandered from the logistics of travel to plans for the off-season, each driver sharing his own ideas for how to make the most of the downtime. Their words overlapped occasionally, excitement rising as they discussed possible locations for training and leisure.
Suddenly, a sharp knock interrupted their conversation. Both men paused, glancing at each other before Franco rose from the couch, crossing the room to open the door.
Franco approached the door, turning the handle and pulling it open just enough to catch a glimpse of James standing on the other side. As recognition set in, he swung the door wider, making room for James to step through. A moment later, Y/N appeared behind him, her presence drawing immediate attention as she trailed closely after James.
James strode confidently into the room, his usual air of authority softened by a hint of excitement. “There’s someone I’d like for you two to meet,” he announced, his tone carrying just a touch of mystery. With a subtle gesture, he stepped aside, allowing Y/N to take center stage, her figure framed in the doorway as the focal point of the room.
As Y/N stepped into the room, Alex’s eyes flicked over to her, and he stood up slowly. He knew of her—the whole world did—but seeing her in person, especially after her months away, was different. She held herself with a quiet determination, though there was still a hint of uncertainty in the way her gaze briefly dipped to the floor before rising again.
“Hi, I’m Alex,” he said, keeping his voice soft and extending a hand. He noticed only the slightest hesitation before she took it, her grip firmer than he’d expected.
“Nice to meet you,” Y/N replied, her voice steady. She met his gaze, her expression composed but carrying a guardedness that suggested she was still finding her footing. It wasn’t shyness, exactly, but a careful control—like she was reminding herself to be present in the moment.
“It’s good to see you here,” Alex offered with a gentle smile, his tone casual. “Hopefully, things are looking up.”
Y/N nodded, a small smile touching her lips. “Trying to,” she said, her voice a little stronger now. There was more left unsaid, but she seemed willing to let the silence speak for her rather than rushing to fill it.
As Alex stepped back, Franco took a step forward, his gaze irresistibly drawn to Y/N. The moment their eyes met, the world seemed to still, and time stretched in that small space between them. His breath hitched as he glimpsed something in her expression—more than just shyness. It was a quiet determination touched by a vulnerability that tugged at something deep inside him.
“Franco,” he introduced himself, his voice unexpectedly tender. There was a softness in his gaze, as though he could sense the silent courage it took for her to be there, facing the world anew.
“Y/N,” she replied, her voice steady, yet intimate, as if sharing a secret. She held his gaze for a heartbeat longer than necessary, then looked away—not out of hesitation, but as if deciding how much of herself to lay bare.
“It’s nice to meet you,” Franco murmured, the warmth in his tone matching the gentle curve of his smile. He kept a respectful distance, aware that while she exuded strength, there was still a part of her that seemed fragile, as though testing the waters.
“Likewise,” Y/N responded softly, her hands settling at her sides. She resisted the impulse to fidget, letting the moment linger between them. The silence that followed felt almost deliberate, as if it was allowing something unspoken to take root. Franco found himself drawn to the quiet resilience she radiated—a kind of beauty that seemed to unfold with every second he spent in her presence.
y/n’s pov
After a while of simple yet engaging conversation, I found myself feeling more at ease. I shared how I had always been a fan of racing, my voice growing steadier as I spoke. “There’s something thrilling about watching it unfold on screen,” I said, trying to convey my excitement.
Alex leaned in, intrigued. “That’s great to hear! It’s always nice to meet fans who really appreciate the sport.” His enthusiasm was infectious, and I couldn’t help but smile back at him.
Franco nodded, a smile on his face. “It definitely takes a lot of dedication to get here. Every race pushes us to prove ourselves.” His sincerity made me feel even more connected to their world.
As the conversation shifted to their plans for the day, Alex described the strategies for securing points in the race, his passion evident. “It’s all about timing and reading the situation,” he explained, and I listened intently, occasionally asking questions to show my genuine interest.
I relished this moment, enjoying the chance to connect with them. For a brief time, the weight of my absence from the limelight felt lighter, and I was just another fan in the room.
Just as they began to delve deeper into the day’s logistics, James cleared his throat, breaking the moment. “Time to head back to the paddock area,” he announced. “The pre-race interviews are about to start.”
I felt a twinge of disappointment at the thought of leaving this conversation behind, but I nodded. “Good luck out there. I’ll be cheering for you both,” I said sincerely, glancing at both drivers, though my gaze lingered on Franco a beat longer, as if the words were meant just for him.
As I followed James toward the door, I glanced back over my shoulder, catching Franco’s eye one last time. I offered him a small, lingering smile, hoping to hold onto the quiet connection we had just begun to form, even as we braced ourselves for the chaos of race day.
F1GOSSIP just posted!
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F1GOSSIP oh? Is this just franco being his charming self or is something brewing? this is after franco got asked how meeting y/n was. If you have the full clip, please send it in!
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username2 me when y/n announces new music #imdelusional
username9 no! y/n’s mineeee stay back 🤺🤺🤺
username1 my reaction when i see my leftovers still uneaten in the fridge
username3 let’s not get carried away chat
username8 they’d lowkey be cute ,no?
username4 here goes mr rizzler
username5 we think y/n giggling at this or not even knowing that he’s basically down bad?
As I gaze out the window of the paddock suite, my heart thrums with a mix of anticipation and anxiety, waiting for the drivers’ parade to conclude so the race can finally commence. The vibrant colors of the team uniforms blur together in a whirlwind of excitement outside, a stark contrast to the stillness within me.
I’ve spent so long in hiding—wrapped in the suffocating embrace of identity crises, exhaustion, and a profound sense of disconnection from everything I once held dear. The weight of fame had become unbearable, each flash of a camera a reminder of the lack of privacy I craved. I’d watched as my personal relationships—family, friends—slipped through my fingers, one by one, until I was left with only echoes of laughter in empty rooms.
For the past several months, my life felt like an endless loop of anxiety and depression, a tangled web of emotions that left me feeling isolated and unrecognizable even to myself. The music that once flowed so freely from my soul now felt like a distant memory, a faint whisper drowned out by the noise of my insecurities.
I close my eyes, massaging my temples gently as I let the world around me fade into a soft murmur. The noise of the paddock, the distant roar of engines, and the chatter of eager fans all blend into a soothing backdrop as I focus inward. I think long and hard about what I truly want to do, contemplating the next steps I need to take to reclaim my sense of self and direction.
Images flash through my mind—memories of laughter, music, and the vibrant life I once lived, alongside the shadows of doubt and uncertainty that have lingered for far too long. I sift through these feelings, weighing the burden of expectations against the freedom of possibility. It’s not just about what others want for me; it’s about what I want for myself.
I draw in a deep breath, letting the air fill my lungs as I clear my mind of the noise. Slowly, I allow the weight of indecision to lift, replaced by a flicker of clarity. I envision the goals I’ve set aside and the dreams that still ignite a spark within me. With each thought, I feel a renewed sense of determination taking shape.
Finally, I open my eyes again, and the world around me comes back into focus, sharper and more vibrant than before. There’s a newfound sense of purpose coursing through my veins, a conviction that I can chart my own course and embrace the unknown. I sit up a little straighter, feeling invigorated by the possibilities that lie ahead, ready to take the next step with confidence and resolve. With all that said and done, I picked up my phone with an idea in mind.
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yourusername I’ve tried in so many ways to come back, but I always took a U-turn, doubting myself and slipping deeper into a place I never thought I’d find myself in. The past several months have been a struggle—a relentless cycle of exhaustion, anxiety, and moments of profound loneliness. The weight of the spotlight felt more like a shackle than a blessing, and I lost sight of who I am and what brings me joy.
I hope you guys miss me as much as I missed you. It’s hard to be away from the people and things I love, especially when music has been my lifeline. I spent so long in my own head, pushing away friends and family, that I forgot how vital connection is to my soul.
But here I am at a Formula 1 Grand Prix, surrounded by the roar of engines and the thrill of the upcoming race, feeling that spark igniting again. This moment is a powerful reminder of the joy that comes from pursuing what we love. I’m learning to embrace the chaos and take the first steps toward rebuilding my life, piece by piece.
So, this isn’t just a post; it’s a promise. I’m finding my way back to music, to the stage, and to myself. I can’t wait to share new songs with you, but more importantly, I want to reconnect with you all in ways that matter.
Stay tuned, because I’m not just coming back; I’m coming back stronger, and I have so much to share.
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username1 the scream i just scrumpt and the race hasn’t even started yet!!!
username2 god answered my prayers and i’m not talking about lando world domination!
↳username10 lando we can be world champions i said!! 🧡
username3 lowk just got chills omg
username4 NEW MUSIC COMING ALERT!!!!
username5 it’s too early to be crying 😢
username6 WE MISSED YOU MORE!!
username7 you’re never alone y/n! i’m here 🤗
username8 lowk heartbreaking knowing the reason you left was due to struggles and not because you wanted to go on vacation or something 😔
username9 my queen, im deeply glad to have you back with us 💕
williamsracing ay, i see the williams team! the team will always be here for you y/n, especially when you need motivation and support! 💙💙
↳username5 ok now im sobbing
↳username11 this is deadass too cute
↳username2 who’s cutting onions?
I shut my phone off and tuck it into my purse, sealing away any connection to the world outside this moment. No more notifications, no more distractions—just me, here. I glance around the paddock, surrounded by a sea of busy engineers, media personnel, and team members, all bustling with excitement as the race is about to begin. The walls of the hospitality suite insulate me from the noise of the crowd outside, but I can still feel the thrum of energy reverberating through the glass.
I shift my focus to the grid on the screen in front of me, watching the drivers as they line up in their spots, engines purring in anticipation. Outside, the Texas sun beats down relentlessly on the Circuit of the Americas, casting long shadows on the track. I can feel the tension building, a nervous buzz in the air as the seconds tick down to lights out.
I take a deep breath, but it’s not because of the race about to unfold. No, this moment is about something much bigger. The relief that comes with turning off my phone is like a release—a tangible sense of freedom I haven’t felt in what seems like forever .And now, watching the cars settle into position, the drivers preparing for the challenge ahead, it feels symbolic—like I’m waiting for my own race to begin.
The engines rev louder, vibrating through the floor beneath me, and I exhale slowly. The lights above the starting line flash red, one by one. My heart pounds in time with the countdown, but this time, it’s not out of fear or anxiety. It’s out of anticipation. I’m ready. As the lights blink off and the cars roar forward, I feel it—this is the start of something new, not just for them, but for me too. My own restart, right here, right now.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
taglist : @heluvsjappie @awritingtree @steamy-smokey
#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#f1 x y/n#formula 1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 fluff#f1 smau#franco colapinto x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 social media au#jzprncess
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The Promise
Part of the "Meet & Greet... and more?" Universe Pairing: Lando Norris x Noah, Lando Norris x reader Words: 1910 Request: Hello. Lando and Reader having a fight and Lando leaves for a race weekend but reader actually thinks he's going to leave them and tries to hide her crying from Noah but he sees and calls Lando scared he's leaving them making him fly straight back after the race to reassure that he is at leaving his family. Masterlist
Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)
Lando and Y/N had always been known for their supportive relationship but as the current Formula 1 season ramped up the pressure started to show.
The days leading up to the next race weekend had been some of the busiest for Lando. With meetings, media obligations and endless preparations he barely had time to catch his breath.
Y/N had been supportive but clearly feeling the strain, especially with a six month old that needed all of her attention she was in desperate need of support. But instead their evenings together were now filled with quiet tension rather than shared moments of joy.
One evening when Lando was scheduled to leave for the next Grand Prix soon Y/N brought up the plans for their last few hours together. “I was hoping we could spend some time with each other before you leave,” she said softly as they sat in their living room. “Maybe a quiet dinner or just a night in? We could get a babysitter for Noah and Maebry.”
Lando, his mind still swirling with the demands of the upcoming race, responded with a distracted sigh. “I really can’t, Y/N. There’s so much to do. The team is depending on me and I need to be focused. This race is crucial.”
“Every weekend is crucial, Lando,” Y/N’s eyes flashed with frustration. “It feels like we’re just drifting apart. We barely see each other and now you’re going to be gone again.”
“You know how important this is! I’ve got a job to do and it’s not like I can just skip race preparations because you’re feeling left out!”
The argument escalated quickly. Emotions flared as Lando accused Y/N of not understanding the demands of his career, while Y/N felt neglected and undervalued. Their emotions got more tense by the minute and soon harsh words were exchanged.
In the heat of the moment Lando decided he needed space. “I can’t deal with this right now,” he said tensly. He packed his bags, his mind racing with the pressures of the upcoming Grand Prix and the unresolved tension with his wife.
Y/N watched him, feeling both sad and angry. “Is this really how you want to handle this? Just walking away?”
Lando paused for a moment, his hand resting on his suitcase. He looked back at her, his expression exhausted. “I don’t know how else to handle it right now. I can’t stay here and argue. I need to focus on the race. Maybe it’s better if we talk when I get back.”
With that Lando finished packing and headed out. Y/N, feeling powerless and desolate, stood by the door, her heart heavy while she watched him drive away.
Y/N paced the living room, her heart racing with a fear that felt all too familiar. The memories of the argument with Lando replayed in her mind. She couldn’t shake the nagging worry that he might not come back, just like Noah’s biological father had done after their last fight. The way he had walked out on them when Noah was just two months old without looking back.
She wasn’t just scared for herself but for Noah too, fearing that the stability and love they had come to rely on might disappear, leaving them both alone once more.
After bringing the kids to bed Y/N retreated to her own bedroom, shutting the door behind her as tears began to flow uncontrollably. She sank onto the bed, her shoulders shaking with the weight of her fears. The thought of Lando not returning gnawed at her, past betrayals and broken promises fueling her anxiety.
Unbeknownst to her Noah, unable to sleep, had wandered down the hallway and stood quietly by the door, listening to his mother’s muffled sobs. His small frame tensed as he heard her crying, his young heart aching with a growing sadness, sensing that something was terribly wrong.
The weekend dragged on for Y/N and Noah. Despite Y/N’s best efforts to keep things normal Lando’s absence was deeply felt. Y/N was preoccupied with her own emotions and the recent argument with Lando, making it challenging to fully address Noah’s growing distress.
The next day, while Y/N was busy in the kitchen, Noah quietly went into his room a few minutes after he had watched his dad on the TV finish practice for the day. Having secretly grabbed his mom's phone, he dialed Lando’s number, his small fingers shaking as he pressed each digit, just how his parents had shown him for emergencies. The phone rang several times before Lando answered.
“Hello?” Lando’s voice came through, busy with the race weekend’s chaos and the exhaustion after the practice session he had just finished.
“Daddy?” Noah’s voice was small and choked with emotion.
“Noah! What’s wrong?” Lando asked, his concern immediate as he recognized his son's voice instead of Y/N’s as expected and he listened to the trembling voice on the other end.
Noah’s tears began to flow freely. “I’m scared, daddy. What if you don’t come back? What if you leave us like… like the other daddy did?”
Lando’s heart instantly ached hearing the raw fear in Noah’s voice. He quickly moved into a private area and sat down, focusing entirely on his son. “Oh, Noah, I’m so sorry you’re feeling this way. I promise I’m not going anywhere. I love you, mommy and Mae very much and I’m coming home soon.”
Noah’s crying intensified. “But what if you don’t come back? I heard mommy crying last night! What if you just stay there forever?!”
Lando felt a sharp pang of guilt and sadness. “Noah, listen to me. I’m finishing up here and then I’m coming home. I’m always thinking about you and mommy and your sister. I would never leave you! I promise I’ll be back soon and we’re going to have so much fun together.”
Noah’s sobs were interrupted by hiccups. “Really? You promise you won’t leave us?”
“I promise,” Lando said firmly. “I love you so much. Just remember, even when I’m not there, I’m always with you in my heart.”
Noah took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. “Okay, daddy. I love you!”
“I love you too, Noah. Be good for mommy and I’ll see you soon,” Lando said softly.
The call ended and Lando sat quietly, overwhelmed by the emotional weight of Noah’s fears and his own guilt. The pre-race tension seemed insignificant compared to the worry he felt for his family.
Unaware of the conversation that had just taken place Y/N continued her evening routine. When Noah rejoined her in the kitchen he was quieter but seemed somewhat reassured. Y/N noticed the change but was unsure of the source of his sudden calmness.
After dinner she put Maebry and then Noah to bed, her mind still occupied with the issues between her and Lando. When she turned to leave the room Noah’s voice called out softly.
“Mommy, can I tell you something?”
Y/N sat down on the edge of his bed. “Of course, sweetie. What’s up?”
Noah looked up at her, his small face still a bit flushed from his tears. “I talked to daddy. He said he’s coming home soon. And, mommy… I heard you and daddy talking and you crying last night. I was scared.”
Y/N’s heart sank. She reached out to hold Noah’s hand and took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her composure. “I’m so sorry you heard me, Noah. I was just having a hard time. But Daddy and I love you very much and we’re going to be okay. We’re all going to work things out.”
Noah nodded, seeming comforted by her words. “Okay, mommy. I love you.”
“I love you too, Noah,” Y/N said softly, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. She stayed with him a little longer until he fell asleep, the weight of the most recent events still heavy on her shoulders.
As Y/N left Noah’s room she felt relieved but also sad. The phone call had provided some comfort for Noah but it also highlighted the emotional distance that had grown between her and Lando. Y/N knew they had some work to do when Lando returned. For now she focused on holding her family together, hoping that soon they would rebuild their connection.
________
After the race, despite the adrenaline and excitement of the weekend, Lando’s mind was consumed by worry. He couldn’t shake the image of Noah’s fearful face and the distress in his voice. The thought of his family struggling while he was miles away drove him to a resolute decision.
When the final checkered flag fell and the race weekend concluded, Lando made a swift choice. He bypassed the traditional post-race interviews and celebrations, driven by a singular focus: getting home as quickly as possible. His team understood his urgency after he briefly explained the situation and provided the necessary support.
Lando rushed to the airport and managed to catch the earliest available flight home, the hours stretching endlessly as he anxiously waited to be back home l with his family. The flight was a blur, his mind fixed on being with Y/N, Noah and Maebry.
It was late into the night when he finally arrived at home. Y/N was in the living room, feeling the weight of the past few days and the tension of the argument with Lando. The apartment was quiet except for the soft sounds of the city outside.
The front door creaked open and Y/N looked up, startled. Her eyes widened as she saw Lando standing in the doorway, looking both exhausted and determined.
“Lando?” she asked, relieved.
Lando stepped inside, his expression earnest. “I’m sorry I didn’t call ahead. I just needed to come back as soon as I could.”
Y/N rushed to him, her eyes filling with tears. “You’re here. You really came back!”
Lando enveloped her in a tight embrace. “I’m so sorry for everything. I heard how upset Noah was and he told me how he heard you crying and I couldn’t stand being away any longer. I needed to be here to make things right.”
Y/N clung to him, her tears falling freely. “It’s been so hard! We missed you so much.”
As they held each other they heard a small, hesitant voice from the hallway. Noah had woken up from the commotion, his eyes puffy from sleep. He peeked around the corner, looking at Lando with a mix of apprehension and hope.
“Daddy?” Noah’s voice was barely a whisper.
Lando dropped to his knees, opening his arms wide. “Hey, buddy. I’m home. I’m really sorry for scaring you. I love you so much and I’m not going anywhere.”
Noah ran into Lando’s arms, relieved as he hugged his father tightly. “Daddy, you came back!"
“I did,” Lando said, holding Noah close. “I’m here now. We’re all going to be okay.”
The tension and worry of the past days began to lift, Lando’s presence providing the comfort and reassurance they all needed.
After Noah was back in bed Lando and Y/N settled in the living room. They spoke quietly, sharing their feelings and discussing the issues that had come up. While the road to resolving their issues would take time, the commitment to being present and supportive was a crucial step forward.
________
AN: Anon, I hope you like it and if not let me know and I can rewrite 😊🫶
Taglist: @eloriis @pacifierbby @landossainz @littlegrapejuice @barcelonaloverf1life @poppyflower-22 @itsjustfranzi @vickykazuya
#lando imagine#lando norris imagine#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#lando angst#lando x noah#lando norris x reader#ln4 x reader#lando x reader
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[8:52pm] (c.sb)
☆。.:*·゚wc 1254 angst + smut ౨ৎ minors DNI ୨୧ husband!soobin x fem!reader, infidelity, toxic relationship, unprotected sex [masterlist • reblogs + feedback appreciated]
playlist — alligator tears, beyoncé ; pretty little birds, sza ; i wish i hated you, ariana grande ; riiverdance, beyoncé ; pretty, kennie ; easy to love me, hope tala ; the other woman, lana del rey
part two
for the past few months, this has been your routine almost every night. it makes him happy and you’ve convinced yourself that as long as he’s happy, he’ll stay. and if he stays, you won’t have to face the truth you’ve been avoiding.
soobin walks through the front door at the same time every evening, his lips curving into a sheepish grin that once made your heart flutter. you greet him with a kiss, your fingers brushing over the collar of his white shirt, where the scent of an unfamiliar perfume clings stubbornly. it’s a dark floral scent— a sweet, intoxicating reminder of where he has been. you try your hardest to ignore it as you slide off his suit jacket from his shoulders.
you usher him into the kitchen, where the table is set with his favorite dishes, each one painstakingly prepared in the hours leading up to his return. he smiles, a soft thank you falling from his lips as he kisses you again. his kisses feel more like a reflex than an expression of love.
he sits down, digging into the meal with the appetite of someone who’s been away for too long. you take your seat across from him, watching as he eats, your own plate untouched. there’s a quiet satisfaction in seeing him enjoy the food you’ve made, a fleeting sense of normalcy that almost lets you believe that things are the way they used to be.
but the silence between you is heavy, and the distance in his voice is unmistakable as he compliments the meal. it’s the same distance that lingers in his eyes, the same distance that has crept into every corner of your lives.
after dinner, he resigns to the living room and you remain in the kitchen, cleaning up. when you’re done you run him a bath. the scent of lavender and rose petals mask the tension that lingers in the air. he comes into the bathroom to meet you, his expression softening when he sees the bath you’ve prepared. there's a glimmer of affection in his eyes, but it’s fleeting, gone almost as quickly as it appears. you try to hold onto it, try to remember the last time it felt this way, but the thought slips away as he turns his attention to the warm water waiting for him.
while he bathes, you return to the bedroom, getting ready like you always do. the routine feels both familiar and hollow. you fix your hair, reapply your lipstick, slip into the lingerie he bought you for your anniversary last year. you spritz your perfume all over your body, just as he comes out of the bathroom with a towel hanging low on his hips.
“hi,” he breathes out.
“hi,”
something about the way he looks at you makes your heart skip a beat. “you look really pretty.”
you want to believe that the warmth in his voice is real. he steps closer, his arm wrapping around your waist as he pulls you into a kiss. his lips press against yours with a gentle urgency. the kiss is familiar, but tinged with something you can’t quite place. there’s a hesitation in the way he moves, as if he is holding something back. your hands find their way to his wet hair, your fingers tangling in the strands as you deepen the kiss, trying to find the connection that feels like it’s slipping away.
his mouth moves against yours slowly, almost reverently, but beneath the tenderness, there’s an undercurrent of something else— guilt, or maybe regret. you’re not sure if it’s his or yours.
the kiss lingers, a ghost of what it once was and what you used to be, and when he finally pulls away, you’re left with a hollow ache that no amount of sweetness can fill.
any guilt he feels, however, dissipates when you pull him to the bed. you know why you do it, and he does too, but soobin lets himself believe that he deserves it. he thinks he deserves the extravagant home cooked meals, the baths, you getting down on your knees every night to worship him devoutly, as though he is your newfound religion. he thinks he deserves it all, even as the guilt gnaws at the edges of his conscience.
he moans in your ear as he steadily rams his thick cock in your dripping hole. you cry out as he finds that spot inside you. he grinds his tip against your sweet spot, tearing lewd moans from your puffy lips. his kisses trail from your jaw to your throat, each one gentle, as if he’s afraid of leaving a mark. he removes his lips from your neck to watch his cock disappear between your folds.
you moan. your body reacts to him in ways you can’t control. your hands grip his forearm as you reach your peak. your walls clench around his thick cock as you cum. you feel the pleasure wash over you, but it’s laced with a sadness that you can’t shake. while he slowly fucks you through your high, he feels his own release approaching. his head falls into the crook of your neck, biting the flesh as he empties his load into you.
barely able to catch your breath, you whisper a soft i love you. he repeats after you through clenched teeth.
all your worries immediately disappear into thin air, when he pulls out and pulls your body closer to his. you feel a brief sense of relief. he is here, with you, where he belongs. you have him next to you, and for a few fleeting moments, that’s enough.
soobin almost feels bad for lying to you.
almost.
but when his phone dings on the bedside table, he snaps out of his haze and your peace is shattered. you feel him tense beside you, the warmth of his embrace slipping away as he reaches for his phone. he unwraps his arm from around you and heads over to the bathroom.
once he is in the safety of the bathroom, he checks his phone. a text from her: i miss you. what time are you coming over?
his fingers are quick to type back. i think she’s about to go to bed, but i’ll be there in twenty minutes.
as he comes back from the bathroom, you look at him with wide, hopeful, doe eyes, searching for any sign that he’s going to come back to bed and that he’ll hold you again. but he avoids your gaze, biting his lips and he picks up his discarded towel from the floor.
you’re so trusting, so loving. he doesn’t deserve you.
“something came up at work,” he lies, the words slipping out too easily. he moves over to the closet, picking out something to wear.
“right now?”
“yeah, it can’t wait.” he throws his clothes on. “i’ll probably be back in the morning though.”
“oh, okay.”
when he is fully dressed, he comes over to your side of the bed, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. “i love you,” he says, the words feeling empty. rehearsed. you hum in response, the sound barely audible. “i’ll see you in the morning.”
you watch as he leaves, the door closing softly behind him. the silence that follows is deafening, wrapping around you like a shroud. you pull the covers up to your chin, trying to find comfort in the warmth left from where his body once was. but it’s no use.
fill out this form to join my taglist! author's note :: I'm back!!!! been reading and watching a lot of cheating content lol so this is really angsty sorry!! part two will be out a week from today! also please listen to the playlist because it will give you the vibe + kind of a spoiler for the ending of part two
#fay's works#txt smut#txt angst#tomorrow x together#tomorrow x together angst#tomorrow x together smut#soobin angst#txt x reader#soobin smut#choi soobin#choi soobin smut#choi soobin angst#soobin x reader
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You Can Have It - Chapter 2
Alpha!Feysand x Omega!Reader
chapter 1 | chapter 3 | series masterlist
Story Summary: You've been a baker for 75 years, and are finally moving on from the Winter Court to the City of Velaris to start your own bakery after your grandmother passes. After your grand opening, the High Lord and Lady of Night become daily visitors to your bakery for months, every day having your most popular pastry- one that increases fertility for a short time. All the while, the two alphas want nothing more than to call themselves yours.
Warnings: A/B/O Dynamics, mentions of sex toys, I really don't think there's anything else?
Words: ~7.8k
Author's Note: it's here! I struggled a lot to get writing with this chapter, I think it's because there's so much I want to happen! Things should start moving a bit quicker after this chapter, were done with most of the OC introductions (just lil friendos for reader to have outside of the inner circle~). Hopefully in the next chapter reader will meet Rhys and Feyre :)
18+ only pls
🤍🩵🤍💜🤍
You had been reading for a couple of hours before Mor returned to the inn, busting into your room as soon as you opened the door at her frantic knocks.
“I brought dinner!” Mor squealed as she set a bag onto the table in the middle of the room. “I went to Sevenda’s and got my favorite of hers, it’s this delicious pesto chicken pasta with broccoli in it, I think you’ll love it! We just have to make sure to take the bowls back tomorrow, Sevenda made me promise and I’ve forgotten a couple of times already,” Mor said sheepishly, a grin on her face. She sat down and began pulling out the takeaway dishes along with napkins and utensils.
You sat down in the other chair, gladly taking your share of the heavenly smelling food and digging in. Mor followed suit, and the two of you ate happily in a comfortable silence for a moment.
“So, were you able to set up a meeting with Auric already?” You asked Mor before taking another bite- it tasted even more amazing than it smelled.
Mor nodded. “Yes, he agreed to tomorrow at two o’clock at this cute little café just a couple of blocks down from here. He mainly wants to know your plans for the land before finalizing the sale. Auric’s family has owned the land since Velaris was founded, and since he doesn’t have any children he just wants to make sure it’s a business with good intentions, I think.”
“That makes sense, I would probably do the same in his position.”
“Agreed. I think he’ll find a cozy bakery to be a perfect fit, he ran a custom paint and supply store once he took over, and I believe it was an apothecary before that.”
You smile softly at the knowledge that your bakery will be on land with such a long history, one that must have made so many people happy. “The apothecary part will be somewhat carried on with my bakery, I have a few different pastries with special herbs in them to give different effects to the person that eats it. I have one that was very popular in the Winter Court, it helps to boost fertility. We started having a greater amount of births around every major holiday, that’s when I would bake the most of them,” you gushed, always happy to talk about your baking.
“Really? Oh, that will be lovely! Since the war, everyone in Velaris has had their eyes turned to the future, and it seems almost everyone wants to have children nowadays. Once word gets around, you’d best be ready for constant business for that pastry alone.” Mor’s words instilled confidence in you, something that you needed every so often to be sure you’re making the right choices.
A half hour later, Mor stood from her chair and began packing up the dishes. Before she left, she pulled a small metal card from her pocket and handed it to you. “This is your bank card, you’ll need it to make any purchases within Velaris. Kallias and Viviane had me set up an account for you and deposit your farewell bonus. Ten thousand for every year you worked for them, a total of 700,000 gold marks.”
“700,000?!” You asked in a frantic tone. That was to much- far, far too much. “That- they must have made a mistake. That’s a ridiculous amount of gold!”
Mor only smiled at you as she answered, “No, they were very specific about the amount. They said if you were panicking to tell you that five thousand every year was for your grandmother, and five thousand was for you. And to tell you that there is no way to convince them to take any of it back, so don’t attempt.” Mor’s smile turned to a grin when you stayed silent, still processing the immense wealth that you now possess. “I’ll be here a bit before two tomorrow to show you to the café for your meeting,” she said as she left your room, bag full of empty dishes in her hand.
“Thank you, Mor. For everything you’ve done today.”
One more bright, sunshine filled smile. “You’re welcome, Y/N. It’s no problem, you’ve been lovely to get to know.”
You return her smile, and shut the door when she is out of sight. Standing alone in your hotel room, you suddenly feel the weight of your day crashing into your shoulders. You set your new bank card on the table, the weight of its wealth too heavy at the moment.
You made your way into the bathroom, carefully removing your dress from your body to not snag your wings on the fabric. Then you set to drawing the bath- luckily, it was fully enchanted with plumbing, allowing for hot water to fill the tub.
It was a bit smaller than you were used to, not quite the right size to fit a winged body, but it would do just fine until you could have your own custom tub made for your apartment.
As soon as the tub was filled, you sank into the warm water, keeping your wings out of the water for tonight- too much of a hassle to dry with how tired you are already.
You let the steam relax you, sinking into a soft, relaxed state of mind. It drifted to your grandmother- she had died today, but you weren’t devastated. She had been in pain the past thirty six years, caused by the curse Amarantha had put upon her. Your grandmother had accidentally served burned pastries to the revel, one making its way to Amarantha herself. As Nanna’s punishment, the evil queen had cursed her blood to burn away slowly until she eventually passed.
But she was in peace now- able to move on to the next life, hopefully one that’s happier, less filled with psychotic fae.
And here- here, you could believe that. You’d seen so many different kinds of fae today, more than you’d seen at once Under the Mountain. Every one of them got along, there was only minor haggling and bickering to disrupt the peace. Besides that, everyone had sounded happy, unburdened.
It was nice.
The Winter Court, even six years after Amarantha’s fall, was still struggling to find the same freeness that this city radiated.
Your grandmother would have loved it here, the two Palaces dedicated to food stuffs alone might have convinced her to move here.
You would love it twice as much, just for her. She had always wanted you to live a full life, one of joy, hopefully with an alpha and a family of any size. She had been an omega as well, understanding that need, that overwhelming desire to have a family, an alpha that loves you.
When you presented, your mother and father had already passed, taken by a brutal pneumonia that had overtaken most of your village. Your grandmother had been the only family left to teach you, and she had done all she could to prepare you for your secondary sex and all that came with it.
You had yet to take an alpha, ever. During your few heats before being trapped Under the Mountain, you had taken a beta as your lover, trusting him enough to help you through them.
And Under the Mountain… Well, you were lucky enough to have been relegated to the kitchens at all times besides during your grandmother’s punishment. No alphas had been allowed to work at kitchen staff, so you were kept relatively hidden during your heats, though they had been less frequent due to the stress, possibly even from the magic sucked from your body.
Now, though, they had returned in full force, three months apart and stronger than ever. Viviane had been kind enough to show you to the small shop dedicated to sex toys in the square of the capital city, some of them designed to mimic a knot.
The toy you had gotten that day had seen you through your last six years of heats, along with a special blend of herbs your grandmother had created that lessened the symptoms to a close to manageable level.
Now, though, in a new city? Maybe you could find an alpha for yourself, as well as follow your lifelong dream. You let yourself drift off and think about what your alpha might be like as you washed your body.
As soon as you were clean, you got out and dried yourself off. You wrapped yourself in the towel and padded into the bedroom once more, finally ready to unpack your things.
It went quickly enough, you hung up your dresses and put away your romance novels and cookbooks. One of them was your grandmother’s entire catalog of recipes, all of her tricks to making any recipe a bit easier. It was your most prized possession, your own catalog a close second.
Your bags were empty now, and you placed them at the bottom of the wardrobe, along with your pair of extra boots.
All alone. A new city.
You crawled into your bed after putting on your favorite nightgown, long sleeved and reaching your calves in a blue so light it’s nearly white, and a scooped back allowing for your wings to remind untouched by fabric.
The sheets on the bed are soft, and you bury your face in them for a moment, reveling in the feeling of them on your skin. A gentle huff leaves your mouth, and you turn your head to look out the window, to where it’s snowing.
You’ll be sad when the snow is gone, but you can’t deny that you’re excited to see the other seasons come and go as they do outside of Winter.
And your bakery- you wonder how that will change throughout the seasons. Different pastries, outdoor seating, seasonal themes- would you be able to make it snow inside during winter?
You drifted off to different imaginings of your new business, new home as well as you’ll be building an apartment above the bakery itself.
🤍🩵🤍💜🤍
You awoke the next morning to the winter sun shining into your eyes. You stretched for a moment, then got up from your bed, and walked over to the doors leading to your balcony and stepped through them. Outside, the snow had stopped falling overnight, and now looked to be around five inches deep.
That wasn’t bad, not bad at all. This time in Winter there would be nights with a foot or more of snowfall. It looked to be about ten in the morning- that would be more than enough time to go and grab some breakfast, and maybe shop around a little bit.
You quickly pulled on a pair of thick grey wool tights after removing your nightgown, then slipped into your thickest winter dress, making sure to get all of the buttons into their holes to make the fabric wrap snugly around the base of your wings to protect the skin beneath. The dress, made of thick wool with a silvery fabric layered over the top, was one that you didn’t wear too often, as you didn’t tend to venture outside of the High Lord’s palace often when it snowed heavily. Your wings, even after living in Winter for the first twenty five years of your life and the past six, were still sensitive to the cold at times, so you preferred to stay inside during most of the heavy snow season.
This dress keeps the rest of you warm and cozy, and you want breakfast, so you’ll risk your wings feeling a bit chilled.
You pulled on your boots that nearly reach your knees and lace them up quickly, your stomach’s loud growl making your fingers move faster. Then you throw on your scarf, hat, and mittens, taking care to slip your bank card into your right mitten for safe keeping, and then you’re out the door, locking int behind you and bounding down the stairs.
“Good morning, Y/N,” Druana said from behind the counter as you breezed past her, making your way to the door.
“Good morning, Druana!” You replied enthusiastically. “I’ll see you in a little bit, I’m going to explore the city on my own for a while.”
“Have a good time, and be careful in the snow. It gets slippery on the stones beneath quickly,” Druana warned as you opened the door and slipped through it.
“Thank you!”
And then you were in the crisp winter breeze, breathing in deep lungfuls of the clean, snow scented air. You’ll definitely miss this once the season slips into spring, but you’re here now.
And it’s beautiful.
The snow has iced the roofs of the buildings around you perfectly, and everything looks like a little gingerbread town. You made your way through the streets slowly, following the delicious scent of cinnamon, sugar, and coffee that you picked up.
Soon, you were at an adorable café, decorated with soft pastels inside and out, primarily pink. And you could tell that inside there was a cinnamon coffee cake and coffee to go with it, one of your favorite breakfasts- just perfect for your first official morning in a new home.
You entered the building, spotting a slim high fae beta at the counter in the back.
“Good morning,” she chirped cheerily at you as you made your way to the counter.
“Good morning,” you responded, already looking over the display of baked goods she had out. “I’ll have a slice of that cinnamon coffee cake,” you said, pointing to the perfect looking coffee cake. You then looked behind the other fae, taking in the coffee brewing equipment. “And a coffee with a bit of cream in it, please.”
“Of course,” the other fae said, grabbing your order in a couple of minutes, sliding a plate and a mug over to you after you’d slid your mittens off. “That will be two gold marks,” she said, and you handed over your bank card, hoping that you weren’t doing this wrong. The fae opened up a ledger, and pressed your card against it. “Alright, here’s that back. You can take a seat wherever you like, and just bring the dishes up to the counter when you’re done,” she said softly as she handed you the card back.
“Thank you,” you said with a smile. You grabbed your items, and sat at the table right in front of a window looking out onto the street you’d just come in from.
Both the cake and the coffee were delicious, warming your insides nicely as you sat and watched people go by, the city slowly waking as you ate, a few customers walking in as you did. You returned the dishes to the front, smiling at the pretty fae running the café. “Thank you, it was absolutely delightful! Would you happen to know the way to a bookstore near here?” You asked a bit shyly.
“New to town?” The fae asked, and you nodded your head in confirmation. “If you go to the right and head down five buildings, take a left and then in two more buildings you’ll be at Gina’s bookstore- she’s very nice, and loves meeting new people.”
“Thank you so much, I’ll probably see you again soon. My name is Y/N, by the way,” you said.
“My name is Jayla, it’s nice to meet you Y/N. And it’s no problem, I’ll see you again!” The fae said cheerily.
You followed her instructions well, and within a few minutes you were shaking the snow off of your boots and dress and walking into the cozy bookstore. There were rows and rows of shelves extending into the back of the store greeting you, and when you looked to your left there was a counter with a green skinned fae behind it. Further down from the counter, there was a small sitting area in front of a fireplace- a roaring fire already blazing inside.
“Welcome in!” The fae said with a warm smile as she looked to you, standing just inside the now closed door. “My name is Gina, I’m happy to help you find anything, or you can browse around for a bit.”
You moved closer to her, taking off your mittens and tucking your bank card into the collar of your dress as you did so. “My name is Y/N, I was wondering if you had any romance novels?” You asked, feeling a bit shy at the request, especially once the alpha’s scent washed over you.
She probably thinks I’m some silly romance obsessed omega now, you thought to yourself.
“Ah! Another romance lover! Right this way, I’ll show you some of my favorites too, if that’s alright,” Gina exclaimed as she quickly made her way over to you and grabbed your hand, leading you through the rows of books to the middle of the store.
“Right in the heart of the store is where I keep my favorite genre,” Gina said as she pulled a book from one of the shelves. “And this is my favorite romance series! It’s called Healer of Time, it’s about this omega high fae from the Dawn Court. She has these really strong healing powers, and she somehow ends up traveling back and forth between current time and three hundred years ago, and has to choose between two fantastically hot alphas, one from each timeline. It’s just perfect, and I’ve helped make the series all the rage in Velaris!”
She handed the book over to you, which you eagerly accepted. That sounded like the best blend of romance and adventure to you. “How many books are there on the series?”
“Nine so far, but the author puts out a new one every year or so, thank the Mother!” Gina responded, pointing out the other eight books for you.
“Wow, that’s a pretty good turn around. I honestly think I’ll get the first four today! It sounds like a really good read.”
Gina grins widely at you, and her excitement is too contagious to not smile back. “I’ll take these up to the front for you, but if you have any more questions feel free to come up and ask me!” Gina took the book from your hand and pulled three more off of the shelf.
“Do you happen to have any cookbooks?”
“Of course, they’re near the front, off to the right in the row second closest to the wall Y/N.”
You make your way over to the area, and quickly spot the section dedicated to cooking and baking. One catches your eye, titled Night Court Favorites, with a beautiful illustration of a moonlit picnic on the front. On the back, it promised the recipes for the past three millennium of Night Court nobility’s favorite dishes. Probably as good a place as any to start your full cooking journey, now that most of your meals would not be prepared by the other kitchen staff of the High Lord’s palace.
You flipped through it quickly, eyes snagging on a recipe for Night Court traditional curry- it sounded absolutely delicious.
With the cookbook in hand, you ventured slowly back to the front counter where Gina stood talking to another fae excitedly, your books waiting on the counter for you.
“Ah, Nesta, I’d like you to meet Y/N, she’s the customer I was telling you about!”
The other fae turned around, her movements sending a small amount of her scent- a winter bonfire and very alpha- and you were struck by her beauty. Sharp angles and liquid steel eyes, and lovely golden brown hair twisted into an elegant braid crown on top of her head.
“It’s nice to meet you Y/N, are you new in town?” The high fae’s voice was husky and holding a certain power to it, absolutely lovely.
“It’s nice to meet you, Nesta. And yes, I just moved to the city yesterday.”
“Well I hope you find the city to your liking. Gina was just telling me that you like romance novels?” You nodded your head. “I host a little book club here every second and fourth Wednesday at four in the afternoon, and we mainly read romance novels. I always like to extend an invitation to those Gina thinks would enjoy it,” Nesta offered.
“Oh…” you thought about it for a moment. “I’m in the process of getting my business up and running right now, but maybe in a couple of months when things have calmed down?” You asked hopefully.
Nesta nodded her head in agreement. “That’s fine, just talk to Gina when you’re ready to join, she’ll let you know what book we’re reading. Well, it was nice meeting you, but I’ve got to be going now now,” Nesta said, making her way over to the door.
“It was lovely meeting you as well, Nesta. I’ll see you in a couple of months.”
The alpha was out the door after waving goodbye, and you were left alone in the bookstore once more with Gina.
“Did you find everything you wanted, dear?” She asked, taking the cookbook from your hands.
“Yes, I did. Though I’m sure I’ll be back in a week for some extra reading, if I end up having the time.”
“You mentioned a business? What kind?”
Your books were bagged now, and you handed over your bank card after pulling it from your collar. “I’m going to be opening a bakery in the Rainbow, if all goes to plan.”
“Oh, that’s nice! We can always use more food stores, and bakeries especially! I’m a big fan of anything bread,” Gina said with a laugh, handing you back your bank card and sliding the book filled fabric bag over to you. “It came out to 11 gold marks and one silver mark, and if you absolutely hate the first book, I’ll let your return the rest and pick out something else, alright?”
You grin at her. “I don’t think that will be necessary, but it’s good to know! I’ll see you sometime soon, Gina. Thank you.”
“I look forward to hearing what you think of them! Walk safely, it can get slippery,” Gina warned as you stepped back into the snow and cold, door thunking shut behind you.
You followed your route back to the café you’d eaten at, simply names Jayla’s. You walking, taking the path that you think leads to the inn. You end up making a few extra turns, but you’re back in the warmth of the inn after you finally find the building. Druana is nowhere to be seen when you enter after kicking the snow off of your boots and dress, so you simply go up to your room.
Your bag lands on the table, and you immediately pulled out the cookbook, flicking through it again to find the curry recipe. You spy a notepad, quill, and ink pot which you grab and bring over to the table.
On the page, you write all of the ingredients you’ll need to make the curry- tonight, hopefully, if you can find everything you need in the two food centric Palaces. You’ll need chicken, a few different root vegetables, a good variety of spices, and coconut milk- you hoped that one of the various stalls you’d seen yesterday would have some prepared, you don’t quite feel like going through that hassle yet.
You check the small clock hanging on the wall, seeing that it’s only a quarter to noon still, that should be plenty of time to get the ingredients you need and be back here in time to meet Mor.
Next you look in the cupboards of the kitchenette, which hold a large frying pan, a pot with a lid, a cutting board, cooking utensils and small knife set. There’s also two sets of plates, bowls, cups and utensils. The frying pan and pot should work nice enough for the curry, there’s not much point to you buying your own cookware until your building is completed. And there’s a cold box, enchanted to keep dairy and meat fresh.
That would hopefully mean going to only one Palace today, or at least before the meeting. You let the ink of your list dry for a few more minutes, flipping open to the first page of your new book series, quickly reading the first chapter.
Just as you thought, it was going to be a good fit.
You folded your list in half once, then again, and tucked it into the collar of your dress alongside your bank card. You should probably get a purse of some sort soon. But that can wait.
You’re bounding down the stairs again in an instant, and Druana is back at her desk this time.
“Oh, I didn’t even hear you come in! I’ll see you again soon, Y/N.”
You smiled at her and said, “Yes, I should be back at or before 1:30, and Mor will be meeting me here, just so you know.”
“Thank you,” Druana replied with her own smile.
You were back in the winter air, sun shining down on you now. Your breath still made puffy clouds in the air, but you didn’t care. It’s winter, and it’s beautiful.
Slowly, you made your way across the nearest bridge that connected right to the Palace of Hoof and Leaf, your current destination. Upon entering the more tightly packed area, you gravitated towards a large stall, covered in so many different vegetables and large glass jars, only a few still filled to the brim with spices. There was a tall, dark skinned high fae standing behind the stall.
“Can I help you?” She asked in a low voice, and you instantly pinned her as an alpha.
You pulled out your grocery list. “Yes, I needed the vegetables and spices on this list, if you happen to have them,” you said, handing it over to the female when she gestures for you to give it to her.
“I just so happen to have almost all of these spices, and the ones I don’t I can point you to another sweet fae who has them, as well as the coconut milk and rice you need. And I have all of the vegetables you need. Making the traditional curry?” She asked as she began gathering the vegetables for you.
“Yes, I’m new to the city and want to learn some of the common dishes here, and this sounded like a wonderful start.”
“Well, I’ll say that it’s one of my personal favorites, so I hope you won’t be disappointed. My name is Petra, by the way, it’s always nice to see new faces in town.”
You smile at her, so happy that so far you’ve only had positive experiences with the people of Velaris. “I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.”
“Now, would you like to buy small spice jars that you can bring back and refill, or just go with the amount you’ll need for the recipe?” Petra asked you, holding up a small glass bottle with a metal lid fitted to the top.
“I think I’ll buy the spice jars, please.”
She fills the three small bottles up quickly, putting them in a thin wooden container with a handle, with six slots perfectly fitting the spice jars.
“You can come back and have them filled up for a slight discount for any spice sellers in the two food oriented Palaces, but I’d prefer if you came back to my stall,” Petra said with a wink, placing the container into the tan fabric bag containing the vegetables. “That will be 7 gold marks, please.” You handed her your bank card, and she quickly passed it back after pressing it to her ledger. “Now, the other two spices and the coconut milk you need, you can find three stalls down on the right, and the male next to her has a good price on chicken, just to give a few suggestions,” Petra offered, pointing out the two fae she was speaking of.
“Thank you so much, I’ll be sure to come back when I need more vegetables,” you said before walking away, exchanging waves and warm smiles.
You made your way over to the other stalls, quickly buying the other two spices, coconut milk, and rice you need, as well as the chicken the recipe called for- one large chicken breast. You trekked back to the inn carefully, switching the bag between hands every so often.
“Grocery shopping, I see,” Druana greeted you as you breezed into the inn after kicking the snow off of your clothes.
“Yes, I thought it would be better than ordering in every night,” you chuckled as you made your way over to the stairs.
“Well, good luck with that. And don’t burn my inn down,” Druana added playfully as you began going up the flight of stairs.
“I’ll do my best!” You unlocked your room, immediately dropping the heavy bag next to the books you’d purchased earlier. Groceries sure are heavy when you have to lug them across town. No matter. You’ll get used to it soon enough, especially once you have to purchase for the bakery.
You put the chicken and coconut milk into the cold box, and the vegetables and spices onto the counter. Right after you had, there was a knock at your door. “Y/N? It’s me, Mor.”
You swung the door open, letting the bubbly blonde into your room. She was carrying a large yellow envelope under one arm, and decked in winter gear from head to toe, but still slightly shivering even in the warmth of the building. “Time to go?” You asked, still holding the door open.
“Yes, getting there a little early is wise with weather like this. Nothing quite like eating shit one to many times on your way to a meeting and ending up late,” Mor said, already moving back out of your bedroom door and into the hallway, and you followed her after making sure your bank card was still tucked safely in the collar of your shirt
The door snicked shut and you locked it quickly, following Mor down the stairs and outside once more. She led you through the streets cautiously, obviously afraid of falling down, but you made it to the café within ten minutes, and to your surprise it was Jayla’s café.
“Ah, welcome back Mor, Y/N,” Jayla said from behind the counter as she wiped it down with a cloth.
“Morrigan!” Exclaimed an older male’s voice, gravelly with age. “It’s wonderful to see you again, come, introduce me to your friend,” the elderly high fae said, beckoning the two of you closer to where he was seated at a table, three other chairs surrounding it.
“Auric, this is Y/N, the lovely young fae hoping to buy your property. Y/N, this is Auric, Velaris’s most experienced paint mixer, including magic imbued paints as well,” Mor said as the two of you sat in the unoccupied chairs.
“It’s wonderful to meet you Auric, I truly fell in love with your family’s property the moment I saw it,” you said right before Jayla came over to the three of you.
“Would the two of you like anything to drink?” She asked, and you noticed that Auric already had a mostly full cup of tea in front of him.
“I’ll take a tea, whatever you recommend please.”
“The same for me, please,” Mor said. “Thank you, Jayla.” Jayla nodded and walked away, going behind the counter to begin brewing your teas.
“So, you fell in love with the land? What did you like about it?” Auric asked you, eyes running over your face. It was then that you scented him- a male omega. It had been years since you’d met one yourself, before the mountain you believed.
“I loved the view looking towards the Sidra, you can see the mountains in the background as well as all of the other beautiful buildings in the city. The land itself is so lovely, it’s nice and flat, and I think it would look wonderful with a little extra landscaping, maybe a tree or two of that would be alright. And the location, on the outside edge of the Rainbow would be perfect for a bakery, close enough to a few residential areas, but also involved in the creativity that the area boasts,” you gushed, still picturing the view in your mind. Being able to bake and look out at such a beautiful river, beautiful city, truly, would be amazing.
Jayla returned, two cups of tea in hand that she placed in front of you and Mor. “A lovely raspberry tea for the both of you,” she said before walking back to the counter.
“A bakery, hmm?” Auric questioned, raising a brow at you as you took a sip of the tea- delicious. “Are enough sure you have the stamina to run it? It’s a hefty job.”
You nodded your head once, fully confident in your abilities. “Yes, I previously worked to bake for the entirety of the Hugh Lord of Winter’s residence, and over the course of… Well, being Under the Mountain, I was assistant to the head baker, my grandmother, for twenty years, and for thirty years after that I was head baker myself. I am confident that I can handle running a bakery on my own.”
The older fae’s eyes narrowed at your for a minute, before they crinkled as his lips spread into a smile. “I like you. I’m sorry that you had to go through that, but it’s good to see you’re stronger for it. Now, what type of baked goods will you be selling?”
You breathed a small sigh of relief before answering. “Well, I do have a few favorite pastries of the Winter Court that I’ll have, as well as loaves breads and cakes. Plus I have a number of recipes made with medicinal herbs or berries that have health boosting benefits. My most popular one by far has been a fertility boosting pastry made with a berry native to the Winter Court.”
Auric hummed as he considered everything you had said. “And what will you name it?”
“I… What?”
“What will you name your bakery? Surely you know what you want your business to be called, Y/N.”
“Of course I do, Auric. It will be called Sparaiya Bakery, after my grandmother. She might have left this plane, but she will always be with me, especially when I bake.”
Auric clapped his hands together once. “Very well, then. I’d like to sell you my land, Y/N. I think you have a good amount of experience, you have a vision for your bakery, and you seem like a strong, loyal person. I believe my ancestors would be proud to have your business on their land,” the older omega said sincerely. “I’ve set the price at 100,000 gold marks, are you willing to pay that much?”
The thought of that much money alone being spent made your stomach churn, but you reminded yourself of the massive amount of money that Kallias and Viviane had given you, and that this land was worth every single mark you were going to spend on it. “Yes, that’s perfectly fine with me.”
“Perfect!” Mor pulled the envelope from between her arm and chest, pulling a few documents out and summoning a quill and a pot of ink. “The two of you can go ahead and sign here, and Y/N, you’ll just need to press your bank card to the top right corner after you’ve both signed.” The two of you do as she says, standing and shaking hands afterwards.
“Thank you so much, Auric, for entrusting your family’s land to me. I hope that if you come by once it’s finished, you will be proud.”
Auric regarded you warmly, squeezing your hand an extra time before letting go. “I’m sure that I will be, Y/N. Let me know when you’re opening, and I’ll be sure to stop by.” He grabbed his copy of the sale documents
“I’ll make sure to. Have a wonderful rest of your day,” you said as he walked out of the café, leaving you with Mor. “I’m so happy he said yes! Oh, I should go tell Marcus that I have the plot of land now, and get everything moving in that direction. Thank you so much, Mor. You’ve been such a help in all of this,” you said, placing a kiss gently on the alpha’s cheek. “I’m going to head over to Marcus’s business now, if that’s alright.”
“Oh, of course!” The alpha responded, already donning all of her winter clothes again to bundle against the cold. “You walk safely over to there, Velaris gets slippery when it snows. Now, will I see you for lunch this Thursday?” Mor asked, and you mentally double checked the day of the week in your head- Monday.
“Yes, three days from now sounds perfect. Do you want to meet somewhere or at my hotel room?”
“I’ll meet you at your hotel room this time, alright?”
You nodded your head in agreement. “That sounds good, I’ll see you on Thursday Mor. You walk safely too!” You were already out of the door with your bill of sale in hand, beelining your way as well as you could to the Palace of Flame and Steel. When you arrived at Marcus’s shop, you swung the door open and stomped off the snow on your boots before entering. “Marcus!” You said excitedly as you met his eyes, waving the paper in your hands at him. “I have land now, will you be able to come assess it in the next few days?”
Marcis stood from his place behind the desk and made his way around it to you. “I can go right now, there it too much to do around here at the moment,” he said, already ushering you out of his shop, flipping the open sign on the door to say closed, and locking it behind him.
“If you’re sure…” you said before grabbing his hand and pulling him with you to the Rainbow as fast as the two of you could manage in the snow. “This is it!” You gesture to the dilapidated building excitedly.
“You are planning to tear it down, right?” Marcus asked, amusement in his voice.
“Of course I am, silly, I wanted the land. It has such a beautiful view of the Sidra and the mountains, come here.” You pulled him past the building, to where you had stood when you’d known that this was the land you wanted your dream to come to life on.
Marcus let out a heavy breath. “Okay, I get it now.” He looked around, taking in where they were situated. “And it’s in the perfect spot for a bakery, you really picked the best possible spot.”
“I know!” You squealed, jumping as high as you could without using your wings in your excitement. “So, what’s the procedure for tearing down the old building and starting the new construction?” You asked, ready to learn the necessary details.
Marcus pulled you back onto the street, and the two of you began to walk back to his business. “Well, we need to submit a request for a permit to demolish, and one for construction. But since I’ve done a good amount of work in the past six years, I doubt that there will be much more than two days of waiting time between submitting it and getting the permits. We can fill out all the forms once we get to my office, and I’ll get them sent up to the House of Wind as soon as I can.”
“Alright, that sounds doable enough,” you said as you threw a smile at him, happy that he’s kind about you not knowing much about the building process.
Soon enough the two of you are back at his office, and he swings the door open, letting you go inside first. He went through a filing cabinet behind his desk before pulling out a half inch thick stack of papers in total. Marcus turned back to you, placing them on the desk and gesturing for you to take a seat.
You do as he asks, and he sets two piles in front of you- both are identical. You give him a quizzical look, not understanding the purpose of having two.
“One pile is for your own personal records, and the other is for the permits and for our contract agreement, for payments and things like that. I suggest you read everything closely, and I can explain something to you if you’d like.”
You read through the stack of documents, finding everything to be fair, both in compensation for the company, and certain protections on promises made to you. You signed the contract documents first, letting Marcus take the pages as you finished to sign them himself. Then came the permit application, you needed to state why you wanted to tear the building down, then what you were going to replace it with.
That was easy, the current building would not suffice for a bakery, it might even burn down if you ride to light a fire in it. And building on top of the land, well, a bakery plus a second floor apartment with a small garden.
Once it was all filled out, Marcus went through every page to make sure that everything had been signed. “Alright, everything looks to be in order. I’ll write to you to let you know when it’s been approved, okay Y/N?”
You nodded your head, happy to be done with the paperwork portion of the day. “That sounds just fine, Marcus. I’ll see you in a few days, most likely,” you said before standing from your chair, stretching your muscles and wings slightly.
“I’ll see you then,” Marcus responded, asking you over to the door. By this point, the sun had begun to set over Velaris, but the city was more alive than it had been all throughout the morning.
“And thank you, Marcus. I look forward to working with you,” you added as you stepped outside and away from his shop.
“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’ll see you soon.”
And the you were off, your new property deed tucked under safely against your body. You were eager to make your way home, wanting nothing more at this point than a hot bath and a warm meal- you didn’t particularly care in which order. You were at the inn soon enough, kicking snow off of your boots and the hem of your dress for the last time of the day.
“Welcome back, Y/N,” Druana greeted from behind the counter, waving a bark skinned hand at you.
“Thank you, Druana. I’ll see you in the morning!” You said, already making your way up the stairs in your rush to finally get out of your winter gear.
The door to your room swung open and shut quickly, and you sat at the table in the center of the room, undoing the laces of your boots as fast as you were able. They came off, then followed by your dress after unbuttoning the back carefully. Now you were only standing in your underthings and tights, and very much feeling the chill that had set in from being outside in your bones. You stripped off the rest of your clothes before heading into the bathroom and starting the tub.
Gloriously hot water spilled out of the faucet, and you didn’t wait for it to fill up, merely settling yourself in as the water slowly came up to your neck. You allowed yourself to soak for a few minutes, letting the cold seep from your bones and warmth replace it. Once you felt warmed and comfortable, you washed yourself quickly after hearing your stomach growl loudly.
After toweling off, you went back into your bedroom and donned a soft set of white cotton underthings, as well as an oversized lilac sweater that you were able to wear like a dress, the back already having had the fabric carved out of it to fit your wings. It was so cozy and soft, you felt buried in it. Just how you wanted to feel after an eventful day.
You went to the kitchenette, pulling out the cutting board, pot, and pan. You grabbed the cookbook from the table and set it on the counter next to the cutting board, reading over the instructions once more. Next you pull out the chicken and grab a suitable enough knife, dicing the meat into bite sized chunks as the recipe called for. You set them in the pan, lighting the charcoal beneath the burner to get the heat started.
You washed the knife and cutting board and dried them off, then grabbed the root vegetables that you’d bought earlier. Similar to baking, you switched between washing and chopping the vegetables to making the meat around the pan easily, being careful not to burn anything while getting everything else you would need prepped.
Paying attention to the recipe, you measured out the right amount of each spice, mixing them Goethe’s with a bit of water to create a paste that smelled heavenly and spicy.
The chicken was done now, and you added the vegetables along with a bit of water and the coconut milk. Then all you had to do was wash and set the rice to cook, and wait. You rinsed the rice in one of the bowls, getting the water clear before carefully draining it out and placing the rice in to the now boiling water.
In another twenty minutes, you deemed the vegetables and rice to be cooked enough, and dished out a nice serving of rice, with lots of curry on top.
You cleared off the table, moving your new books over to the nightstand by your bed, then brought your dinner to the table. You sat facing the windows and stared out at Velaris as you ate, pleasantly surprised with how nicely the curry had turned out, with it being your first time cooking anything like it.
Soon enough you were full and getting sleepy, so you brought your dishes back to the sink. You plated the rest of the rice and curry into the other bowl that you hadn’t used, then washed all of the dishes you had used that night.
By the time you had finished, your bed was calling to you, and it was such a soft, sweet landing when you finally made your way under the covers, deciding to sleep in your massive sweater instead of changing into a nightgown.
It’s not like anyone will see me sleeping, anyways, you thought to yourself, right as you drifted off into a peaceful sleep, filled with the view from your new property.
Series Taglist: @icey--stars @breadsticks2004
#you can have it#acotar a/b/o#alpha!feyre x omega!reader x alpha!rhys#alpha!feysand x omega!reader#acotar omegaverse#feysand x reader omegaverse#feysand x reader#alpha!morrigan#alpha!nesta#acotar fic#acotar#acotar fanfic#feysand x you#tato writes#omega!reader
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you have me and I have you -- DR3
Taking the twins to meet Daniel at a race nearly ends in disaster for the youngest, luckily you remember a little saying that goes a long way for when her emotions get too big for her all weekend away from her favorite person on the planet.
daniel ricciardo x wife!mother!reader
warnings/notes: probably inaccurate f1 information (specifically with where they live but idc its my fic), i'm not going off any actual timeline of real events dude this is just vibes, maxiel content bursting out of this fic, might make this little family a series i dunno, i don't have the most knowledge of daniel's career so mind some gaps
--
You and Daniel lived an exceptionally private life--surprisingly. Alpha Tauri's home base was in Faenza, Italy. And when Daniel was announced to be driving for them, you both tossed around a few different city names until Max of all people found you both a quaint little house just outside of the main touristy parts of Ravenna.
Somehow the world champion knew the both of you would find it was a perfect spot to nestle in for the time being. You knew that once the girls really got into school, like proper schooling, you'd have to settle them near Daniel's family. That's what you'd agreed to do when you planned to return to teaching full-time, but for now, Ravenna worked beautifully.
And it was beautiful too.
You had moved and traveled a lot with Daniel due to his career, it had never bothered you in the near decade the both of you had been together. The two of you never fought, sure you argued, but nothing hateful. It was usually a 'stop overthinking this' or 'stop overworking yourself on that' and with two perfectionists who adored their careers and families it could get a bit tense. But, you loved Daniel more than anything, and he loved you just the same. So it always worked out in the end.
Three years dating, one year engaged, seven years married, five years parents. Parents. Two beautiful twin daughters, you hadn't not been trying for kids, and though the girls were a surprise, they were happily welcomed by the Ricciardo's and your family when announced. And of course their loads of F1 uncles, like Max, Yuki, Lando, and of course Pop Pop and Grannie Horner, who had just about died when the youngest of the two twins--Rosella, called them that without you or Daniel prompting her to.
"She speaks the truth!" Daniel had laughed when Geri scooped the little girl up in her arms and squeezed her, kissing her forehead. Max had just laughed for like ten minutes at Christian's face before the man finally made some remark that he was "finally old enough for that title."
And then a few months later little Penelope would do the same, with a quite similar reaction.
Life in Ravenna was perfect, and you had been blessed with a remote job that allowed you to work anywhere making your life a breeze of constant travel, love, and spending nights alongside your husband or his family and friends in lavish hotels for grand prix.
Speaking of Grand Prix, it was time to get the girls moving. The two of them, Rosella Grace Ricciardo and Sienna Michelle Ricciardo, are currently settled with their suitcases beside them in the living room as you finish unplugging the necessary items and locking up the house. Rosella was playing with her stuffed bear, idly singing some song her grandparents had been trying to teach her, and Sienna was currently trying to repack her bag that you had so meticulously put together.
"Si, stop messing with your bag, sweetheart." You try to not let any annoyance sink into your tone but fail a little as you make your way to the foyer.
"Sorry, Momma." Sienna pouts and hides in on herself, her big brown eyes and bouncy curls making you think of her father--who was currently in a car going god knows how fast on the track. Max had been the one to invite you to Miami, saying it would be good to get the girls there to surprise Daniel.
What he hadn't thought of was how hard it is to get two twins through the airport, who look exactly like Daniel Ricciardo, without raising any eyebrows because this was their first appearance at the track since they were toddlers and didn't look like much of anyone except for having Daniel's undoubtedly huge smiles.
"Hey," you say, but don't explain the sentence that brings both of your daughters immediate calm, "You have me and I have you."
The sentence, something from the night before you married the girl's father basically equated to 'we've got this, don't freak out, I'm not mad and you're gonna be fine.' and whatever else it needed to at the moment and it had been a constant in the past seven or so years of your life.
And Sienna calms herself immediately, nodding at you.
You peck a kiss to Sienna's hairline as you repack her bag, "All better, nothing to be sad about, okay?"
She nods, taking her bag and helping her sister grab her stuff as you get them out to the car. The two are pretty well-behaved by now and have learned when to do as you ask and when it's okay to play around a little. You thank Daniel for that, he'd always set a good example. Once everything is in the trunk, you secure the girls in their seats and then thank one of the women you'd become close with down the road for driving you to the airport.
Natalie grins, patting your shoulder as you settle in with a big huff, "I just wish you luck getting them through the airport by yourself! Usually, you have Michelle with you."
"Well, Michelle's unable to come to Miami because she's working, so it's just me this time!" You try to hide your annoyance at the whole situation already, but Natalie just laughs as she starts to drive through the streets of your beloved town.
"Don't stress it, those girls are too well-mannered to cause a fuss."
"I hope so." You sigh, glancing over your shoulder at the both of them.
--
The airport in Italy is a breeze, it's the Miami airport that gives you trouble with the girls because one file isn't filled out correctly. One fucking file. You end up leaving poor Geri Halliwell in the pick-up lane for like an hour while you scramble to fix it so you're not shipped off back home with the girls, who are tired and miserable and just wanna go to bed.
And you'd run out of snacks on the plane, which was another level of catastrophe as Rosella complains every two seconds she's starving and going to die while Sienna complains her feet hurt and makes you carry her around.
Luckily, the airport staff seems to take a bit of pity on you and push you through as quick as possible. You stumble out to the pick-up line to find your ride, the warm Miami air making the girls want to play a bit. Setting down Sienna you make both girls keep one hand on your suitcase as you meet Geri halfway to the car and she kneels down to give the twins hugs as they scream her name.
"So much for discreet." You huff, watching Geri happily interact with the girls. And you learn right then that she's always planning ahead (maybe it's the whole having four kids thing) as she pulls out two little baggies of packed snacks for the girls from her coat.
Once the girls spot Christian, it's game over as they sprint with their little suitcases bouncing behind them and he barely has time to kneel before they're trying to hug him.
"Lookin' good Mama," Geri grins as she picks up Sienna's discarded backpack and you laugh off the compliment as she stands, placing her hands on her hips, "I'll take it they missed us?"
"They wouldn't shut up about getting to see you guys all week after Danny left," You let her pull you into a hug as she kissed your hairline. She helps you get the girl's stuff in the car while Christian entertains the two who sit in the back seat and you end up between your daughters on the drive to the hotel.
"We rented you a room on another floor just for tonight, we figured you'd wanna surprise Danny at the race." Geri turns to talk to you as Christian drives and you nod, leaning forward so she can sit straight. Sienna's babbling to Christian about class, Rosella trying to butt in to get his attention too, and you lean your head on Geri's seat.
"Thank you guys, I'm serious when I say I'll pay you back."
"It came out of Oracle Red Bull Racing's pocket, not mine." Geri holds her hands up and you let out a soft laugh, finally feeling the weariness of the nearly twelve-hour flight.
When you make it to the hotel, Christian goes first to ensure the coast is clear, and you find they've already checked into the room so you're able to go straight up. Once inside, you thank the Horners one more time with tight hugs and a promise to bring them around to Italy soon before shutting the door.
"Momma!" Rosella whines as soon as the door is locked and dead-bolted shut, "I'm tired!"
"Me too!" Sienna copies her twin and flops on the floor and you laugh.
"Let's get you two ready for bed, yeah?" You muse, grabbing the suitcases and flipping them open, and letting the girls pick out the pajamas while you do the same with some loungewear. It's only around five at night, and you do still need to feed the girls a proper dinner, so you assume a short nap with a break for chicken nuggets before bed will be perfect.
--
You rouse from sleep to two sets of little hands hitting you, the girls giggling as they whisper, "Momma, momma!"
"Mhmn," You groan, rubbing your face, "Yeah?"
"Daddy called you, Rosella answered it like a big girl!"
"Mhm!" Rosella cheers, leaning to not-so-secretly whisper, "I didn't even tell him the big secret!"
"That's great--" You go to say sleepily and then you blink your eyes open when you hear Danny laughing over the phone and you sit up to your elbows and snag the phone from her.
"Both of you, shoo." You wave a hand and the girls shriek as you curl your fingers like you're going to tickle them and then sit up in bed.
"I swear I set an alarm." You laugh, rubbing your eyes as you check the clock--in Italy, it would be noon right now which would be typical for your afternoon nap with the girls.
"No big deal. I just wanted to call you when I was getting up for race day." Daniel yawns and you can imagine him rubbing at his face as he lets out a muffled groan over the phone, "How are you and the girls?"
"They're having a blast but being little tornadoes," You huff, "but I'm managing."
"Ah, that's my girl. Superstar mom." You can physically hear Danny's smile in his voice and it makes you laugh, when you ask him how he's doing he regales practice and qualifiers as you get yourself out of bed and grab the girls a change of clothes. Mouthing for them to get in the shower as you mute the phone so Danny doesn't hear the water as you turn it on. Walking back to supervise from the doorway you pop in a few questions here and there.
By the time the call is wrapping up, Sienna's gotten soap in her eyes, so you bid Daniel a quick goodbye as you scold Rosella for splashing her sister in the face and end the call. You double-check to make sure it's actually ended before you move into the bathroom.
It takes an hour for you to get ready, which means by the time you're bringing the girls down to meet with Geri, her kids, and Kelly and Penelope, all the drivers are making their way to the track.
But, of course, you have to run into Charles in the elevator.
"Didn't know you were gonna make it this weekend," Charles says as you step in, the girls shy away from him a little, especially Sienna who practically buries herself behind her sister. You laugh softly.
"Guys, it's just Charles." You say over your shoulder and they both peek up again before gasping and jumping over to hug him. He kneels down to the girls, accepting both of their tight hugs as you speak,
"We weren't until Max told me he got us paddock passes,"
"They're still that close, huh?" Charles stands once the girls release him and you shrug,
"I think Max feels bad for how it ended with them in Red Bull, kinda like how Lando and Daniel are still super close after McLaren because of--God, don't get me started actually." You pinch your nose, the wound of McLaren's drop of Daniel had been the most difficult part of your partnership with Daniel thus far. You hoped it stayed that way.
"I'm glad they're still close." Charles smiles and then bids you goodbye as a Ferrari employee starts scolding him in French--or Italian, or maybe both, as she drags him off in the opposite direction.
You cart the twins off to the little restaurant within the hotel, thanking the hostess who brings you to Geri and Kelly's table and you greet them with a happy smile. Once the kids are all introduced and settled, you relax and roll out your neck.
"I am exhausted." You announce and Kelly pushes a mimosa towards you, grinning, and you happily take it. Breakfast goes relatively well, Penelope wants to sit in your lap halfway through because she missed you, and Bluebell updates you on her applications for university.
The Halliwell-Horner kids are a mess of different parents, but all act just as loving as your own twins, it makes you smile as you notice Bluebell pause mid-sentence to make sure her sister ordered her food correctly and her brother has enough to drink when the waitress comes around to check on you all.
And then Sienna gasps and points at the TV, squealing at an ear-piercing decibel, "Dad!"
"Shh!" You hush her, both Kelly and Geri laughing as you try and handle the two kids who are excitedly pointing out their father on the TV. It's interviews from yesterday on replay in preparation for the race later. And the twins won't stop even with you, Geri, Kelly, and the other kids at the table (save for Geri's youngest) trying to hush them.
"Girls. Knock it off or we're going outside!" You hiss through your teeth, pointing at the two next to you, and Rosella literally screams 'no' at you.
"Good grief." You sigh, then grab her by the waist and wave for her sister to follow you. While Sienna's a little hesitant, a gentle tap from Geri makes the girl scoot off her chair and follow you and a screeching Rosella out of the small restaurant. The three of you settle on the floor as you try to calm a clearly upset Rosella, who curls into your side.
"C'mere, Si." You hold an arm out as you sit on the floor and Sienna curls into your other side. You wipe the frustrated tears off Rosella's face, she had always been attached to Daniel by the hip, you weren't sure why you assumed this would be easier for her than her sister.
"I know you guys are excited to see your dad, I know, I am too." You say to the two twins who sit in your lap on the floor in probably the nicest hotel in Miami, "I miss him just as much as you guys do but... we have to be quiet in restaurants. We can't start screaming like we're at home, okay?"
"Momma, 'm sorry Momma." Rosella sniffles and you pepper soft kisses to her hairline and wipe the tears from her face as Sienna gives her twin a hug.
"It's okay, darling, you know you have me and I have you, yeah? You just have big emotions you wanna get out, but we have to remember inside voices and that there's always a time and place for everything, okay?" You rub her back as she hiccups, big tears rolling down her face as she starts calming down with big gasps.
The girl nods, scrubbing at her face and you give her a little kiss on the top of her forehead before giving Sienna a kiss there too.
"Are we calm enough to talk now, Ella?" You say softly and the girl nods, you scoop her up and bring Sienna back in so she can sit at the table and eat, informing Geri and Kelly you'll be right back after you take Rosella on a little calm down walk.
And you end up in a little courtyard, bouncing Ella on your hip as she speaks softly as you pause at a fountain.
"And Daddy's always there when I'm sad." She recounts as she hiccups, still crying a little as you rock her and rub her back, "and I got sad he wasn't there, and then he wasn't there to make me happy, and it made me more sad."
"Oh honey, it's okay." You look over your shoulder, swearing for the third time you're seeing Lando out of the corner of your eye--which is impossible because he's at the track and you're just being paranoid.
"Big emotions come out sometimes, it's happened to me. When your dad and I got married, I freaked out on him the night before because I was so stressed something would go wrong. I screamed at him, like a full freakout," You sigh, pressing your lips to your daughter's hair before whispering, "You know what he did?"
"What did he do?" Rosella sits back so she can look you in the eyes, you bounce her up and readjust your grip.
"He held me like I'm holding you now and he said 'I know you've got big emotions and so do I, but you know what we also both have?'" You remember the way he'd pressed his lips to your hairline, hands tucking you into his body as he cradled you in the bathroom of the wedding suite in the hotel,
"And I said 'no' because I was having big emotions, and he said 'You have me and I have you.' Just like right now, Ella, you have me and I have you."
"Oh! That's why you and Daddy say that." Ella smiles, kicking one of her feet a little and you nod. She wipes the last of the tears from her eyes and you kiss her cheek, before walking back to the restaurant when she claims she's finally calm enough to eat and be a little quieter.
--
About ten thousand things are happening in the Alpha Tauri garage when you sneak in with Yuki's help. You see Daniel off to the side, talking with some engineers with a stressed expression, and instead of walking over to wrap your arms around him like you want to-- you cart the twins off to his driver's room and settle them in there.
"Should I get him?" Yuki asks once he's finally gotten Sienna to pry off his leg and you laugh, shaking your head.
"Surprise, remember?" You speak softly, hushing the giglging twins.
"Yeah, but he's..." Yuki makes a face and you roll the idea around in your head. The girls had never seen Daniel frustrated, any sort of negative emotions you and Daniel tried to keep away from them.
"How bad?" You ask, mouthing one to ten, and Yuki mouths back a solid nine. So you groan, dragging your hands down your face and holding up a hand for him to wait while you kneel down and wave the girls over.
"Listen, Ella, Si." You poke their arms playfully as they quiet down their giggles when you slowly lower your hands to the floor, "Quiet time, okay? Momma's gonna go out and see where Daddy is, and I might bring him back here, okay?"
The girls nod and you kiss both of their foreheads before leaving the driver's room with Yuki and speaking softly, "I'll come with you."
He nods and waves you along, making his way through the back hall and back into the main area of the garage where Daniel was standing with his back to you. Mouthing good luck, Yuki slips off to stand beside Daniel as they talk racing stats. You just stand for a while, watching your husband as he clearly fusses over some fudging of numbers and how the team seems to be running whatever tactic on a sort of hail-mary moment. You know he hates leaving it up to fate.
"Okay, well," Daniel groans, clearly wanting to change strategy but knowing he's unable to do so, "I don't even know."
Yuki suggests something, but it gets shot down, and then you slowly start to inch forward. You see the videographers and photographers readying themselves for the moments, cameras lifting up high as they wait for the moment or whatever line will come out of your mouth.
"This is literally just as frustrating as getting the twins to relax on a plane," Daniel complains, Yuki smirking and biting the inside of his cheek as you finally cross the room to stand behind your husband.
"I dunno, I did pretty well--"
"--Holy shit!" Daniel shouts, barreling himself into you as he sweeps you off your feet in a loud laugh, "Oh my god! Hello! What?! When did you get here?!"
He sets you down after a tiny spin and presses a long kiss to your lips before you can explain, his hands firm on your hips and your arms tossed around his neck, just like puzzle pieces.
"Max got me passes, we got in last night. Blame the entirety of Red Bull." You wave a hand and Daniel kisses you once more, arms now wrapping around you.
"Okay, fuck strategy for a moment, I need this." He says to the Alpha Tauri team who wave him off and laugh, and you let Daniel just bury his face in the crook of your neck, breathing in the way too expensive Dior perfume he'd bought you for your birthday, and sigh out his stress.
"You have me and I have you." You murmur to him, pressing your lips to the side of his head, since it's all you can reach at this angle, a very similar angle to which his mini-me had been held in only a few hours prior.
"I know." He steps back, then blinks at you, "Wait. The twins are here too aren't they?"
"How the fuck--"
"You aren't wearing your necklace you always wear when you have someone babysit them for the weekend." He pokes the necklace you are wearing, one of your last names written in one of the prettiest fonts you'd ever seen, the gold blackened and dirty from its constant wear. A wedding gift from his mother.
"You little shit." You whisper, before turning and shouting, "Ella! Si!"
And it's like they were waiting for it because the sound of the door slamming against the wall followed by the patter of small sneakers sounds through the garage as the twins sprint to find you and their father. Their joyful screams overlap as Daniel drops to one knee to scoop both girls in his arms, fawning over their matching sundresses (custom-made to be the same color as his racing suit, as is the dress you wear) as he lifts them up to your height.
"Look at my girls." Daniel smiles, letting the twins babble on about whatever as he turns to press a kiss to your cheek, "Thank you."
"Thank Max." You step up to take Sienna from his arms so he can easily hold Rosella, but the arm you've freed snags you by the hip and pulls you close.
"There we go!" He grins at you, "All three of my girls in one place, yeah?"
And it's perfect, a little slotted puzzle piece, and regardless of if they figure out whatever issues are going on with the car you know Daniel will be loving every minute of Miami this year. Just because the three of you are there as his backbone.
#f1 fanfic#f1 x reader#daniel ricciardo x reader#daniel ricciardo fanfic#dr3 x reader#daniel ricciardo x you#daniel ricciardo x female reader#daniel ricciardo fic
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You don't even have to ask
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader
Synopsis: After the qualifying at the Grand Prix of Monaco, you look for Charles to give him comfort... and in search of his forgiveness.
Warnings: Fluff. Angst. English isn't my first language, so it probably contains some mistakes. I tried my best but if you want to correct or help me, you are welcome.
Author's note: Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is always appreciated and is important for me. If you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to write them and I will take into consideration.
The sun had already set and the moon had taken its place lighting up the dark sky above you.
As you approached the port, you could hear the music from downtown getting more and more distant. Absolute silence reigned in the port, it was just you, the sea and the many boats docked. Everyone, except one person, was celebrating. And you knew, or at least you hoped, you’d find him on his yacht. Away from everyone and everything, probably lost in his thoughts and thinking back to what had happened just a few hours ago.
Once again, in fact, Ferrari and Charles’ team had screwed his race, jeopardizing his victory and proving to be incompetent. Although they were the ones who made the mistake, Charles would pay once again the consequences, just when for the first time he had had the chance to get on the podium in Monaco. That was the thing that pissed you off more.
Even though you were on a break, you couldn’t help it but support him. Because in the end and despite everything that had happened between you in the last months, you loved him. You still wanted him to win and be happy. But instead, he was struggling once again.
Charles ran to win every race but Monaco was different, it was special. It was his home race, the place where he had grown up and lived.
He loved Monaco, its people and he wanted them to love him equally, to make them proud. That was the reason why he wanted to win… for them. The thing was that they already loved him… or at least you did. You loved him more than everything else and seeing him sad broke your heart. After you had tried to call him and had received no answer, you had decided to go find him and see for yourself how he was. You wanted to comfort him, but you were also dying to see him and have him a few meters from you after weeks away, to hold him in your arms. You would have told him that everything would be fine. Even among you.
The break had been your idea and Charles, even though he didn’t like the idea, had agreed. He loved you and he knew that being in a relationship with him, always under the spotlight wasn’t easy, that sometimes it could be a little suffocating. So, he had let you go with the hope that you would return to him sooner or later. You were now as you had thought enough. Being with him wasn’t easy for sure but being without him was even more difficult. Those weeks apart from him had strengthened your feelings for Charles.
You needed him just like he needed you. Those weeks, those days must not have been easy for Charles and your distance must have made everything worse. Part of you felt guilty for not being there for him.
His yacht was for both of you your second home, your refuge. Whenever he could, Charles would come and take the yacht out to sea. As he wanted to stay alone with his thoughts during those moments, he almost never allowed anyone to accompany him, except you. You were always welcome. Would you have been even now? Did he still love you? These questions had been nagging you all along the way.
You got on the yacht and it didn't take you long before you saw him. He was standing with his back to you and looking up at the sky. You were approaching him when the sound of his voice instantly paralyzed you.
“I said I wanted to be alone.”
You could hear the sadness dripping and it broke your heart. You wanted to run to him but you were unable to move. Would he have appreciated that? Were you welcome? As he had his back still turned, he had no idea it was you.
“Does that apply to me too?”, you asked, scared of being rejected. Your voice made Charles instantly turn around as he realized who you were.
His face immediately lit up upon seeing you just a few feet away from him. But you could still see the sadness in his eyes.
“Y/N…”
“I just wanted to see how you were… you know after everything that happened, but if you prefer being alone, I can…”
He didn't let you finish the sentence. “You know there is always room for you on board”, he said smiling.
You smiled back. You were tired of that distance between you, it was time to fill it. You approached him filling the gap between you. Now you were inches away from him.
“Even in your arms? Because I think a hug would do you so much good”, you said.
Without answering, he reached out to you and wrapped his strong arms around your shoulders and back.
“You don’t even have to ask”, he whispered burying his head into your neck.
You tucked your head into the curve of his neck and wrapped your arms around his waist. The contact with his body sent a shiver through you. It was like the air was taken from you as you melted onto him and your eyes began to fill with tears. You could feel he was crying too as a slight wetness was soaking your blouse.
Charles sighed as he felt immediately lighter between your arms, relieved. After all those weeks of being away from you, Charles felt he could start breathing again. Without you by his side and with all the pressure leading up to his home race, he had felt like he had been drowning for the past weeks. You were his anchor, the one who kept him afloat when everything else was failing. You had arrived just in time to rescue him.
You hugged in silence for a few minutes. Words weren't necessary, at least not now. Your hearts beating wildly, in unison with each other spoke for you. That was enough.
After a while, you broke the silence.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“Not really, not now that you are here with me… That's all that matters now, I don’t care about anything else”, he whispered. “But there is one thing you could actually do for me.”
You pulled away gently and looked into his eyes, your faces inches apart, noses touching and his hands still on your hips.
“What is it?” You were feeling a mixture of curiosity and fear as you were waiting for him to talk.
Charles placed his forehead on yours.
“Would you stay here with me tonight?”
You closed your eyes and sighed, part of you feeling relieved at his words.
“You don’t even have to ask”, you simply said.
His lips curved into a smile satisfied by your answer. His hands cupped your cheeks, as he slowly leaned in and placed his lip onto yours. Your spare hand gripped his shirt gently, pulling him closer until you were pressed against each other. You needed to feel him. But first you needed to do something else.
With your hands on his chest, you took a step behind leaving Charles confused and visibly worried.
“I’m sorry, Charles, for everything. I should have been there for you, especially knowing how difficult it would have been today…”
He took your hands in his and placed his forehead on yours. “Shhhh… You are here now and that’s enough for me. Tomorrow, if we want, we will talk about us but for now I just want to hold you in my arms. No racing, just us. Me and you. Okay?”
You nodded and let out a small whisper “I think it’s perfect”. And you kissed again.
A few weeks later you were back on the yacht, Charles had taken you on a date.
Between Charles’ arms and rocked by the sound of crashing waves, you were staring at the starry sky and enjoying the silence away from the city.
“I’ll be right back”, he whispered into your ear and pulled gently apart from you.
You kept looking at the starry sky when a streak of light crossed the sky and then immediately vanished.
“Look, Charles! A falling star!”, you screamed and turned around to face Charles.
You were speechless and couldn’t believe your eyes.
Charles was in front of you... on his knees. He was holding a small velvet box with a diamond-set ring inside. And it wasn't just any ring but the one that Hervé, Charles' father, had given to his mother when he had proposed to her.
You put a hand in front of your mouth trying to hold back the emotion and the tears.
“Charles…”
“Y/n, a few weeks ago I asked you if you would stay with me for the night. Now I ask you, would you stay with me a little longer?”
Tears streamed down your face as you weren't able to hold them back anymore.
“Forever, Charles”, you finally said. “You don’t even have to ask.”
#charles leclerc#charles leclerc fluff#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 fanfic#formula 1#charles leclerc x you#f1 one shot#f1 x reader
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How Lance became Lancey – ls.18
stepdad!Lance Stroll | series
word count: 1305
summary: Lily’s first time at the paddock could be something challenging but, luckly for everyone, Lance had everything undercontroll. Will he win the race or will he win a tittle even more important than that?
Since Lance had asked Lily for permission to date her mother, the girl's life had changed a lot and not that much at the same time. The change had largely been for the better, except for the noise of the mixer early in the morning, which was usually offset by pancakes waiting for her when she woke up.
The biggest change, however, had been Lance's constant presence at her house. It wasn't that Lily was complaining, obviously she liked the Canadian and always having him near her, but it was a little confusing having him within reach for a few days and then going other days without seeing him.
Without meaning to, every time Lance left, Lily couldn't help but think about her father, whom she hadn't seen in months and about whom she didn't know anything most of the time.
The main problem was that, as happened when Lance left or when she saw her father on a rare afternoon, her life continued as if nothing had happened after that. She barely had any memories that it had even happened to hold onto. Or even a hope that it would happen again.
Her mom had explained to her that Lance was just travelling for work and she could see him every night through her mother's cell phone. But it wasn’t the same.
And Lance had quickly realized this when he saw how the girl behaved when he left and when he returned.
The couple had promised not to run for Lily's sake, but Lance lived for speed, so it was hard for him not to ask them to move in with him as soon as they started dating. However, now he didn't see a better option to make the girl see that he was always going to come back for her and her mother.
He had thought a lot about how to ask his girlfriend. He was aware of how crazy his life was, but they had both already seen traces of it and had not run away, so he thought he had nothing to fear.
He just needed one last test to show them it could work. And that test was going to be the Canadian Grand Prix. His home race.
His father had even helped him prepare everything for their visit. They had decorated a small part of his side of the garage and had brought different things to keep the girl entertained during the race.
Everything had to be perfect for his two girls.
His father had even had a small racing suit made especially for the girl. Green decorated with white flowers, obviously. And of course a matching hat for her mom.
And when the weekend started, half the garage was more worried and excited about Lily and her mother's first race than about the improvements they brought to the drivers' cars.
What Lance hadn't taken into account was that his weekend duties would keep him so busy that he wouldn't be able to spend all the time he wanted with them.
On Friday he had only been able to spend a little time with them before starting the weekend. He had only had time to give them a quick tour and put the little girl in his car –and take too many photos of her there with her little outfit.
“Lilybug!” Lawrence exclaimed as the girl jumped into his arms. “What's this I have heard about you becoming a driver? Do I have to sign you on my team?”
“I did! I got into Lance’s car! Right mommy?” said the girl bouncing in the man’s arms. “Want to draw with me, flower?” she asked once she calmed down.
“Sure! That's why I came to work today.”
At the end of Saturday, Lily was already exhausted from those days of action. So tired that she hadn't even realized how poorly Lance had classified on the qualy.
“It's okay, Lance. You'll bounce back tomorrow, I'm sure. You've had a very good weekend. Lily was delighted watching you run on the screens.” his girlfriend said as they headed to the driver's car.
Lily was asleep in his arms, her head on his shoulder leaving a small wet spot on his team shirt. His father had drained her while they waited for qualifying to start by playing outside, which Lance was very grateful for.
“I wanted this weekend to be perfect. I guess I forgot to plan that I would have to drive well” he confessed when he made sure little ears were not going to hear and be disappointed.
“Don't be so hard on yourself. We are so proud of you,” she whispered, giving him a quick kiss when they got to the car. “And you have nothing to worry about, this is being the best weekend, so close to our first getaway to the beach”.
“At least I haven't been attacked by any crabs here” Lance joked, causing his girlfriend to laugh as they buckled Lily into her seat.
“Don't claim victory, there is still tomorrow.”
And like every time she said something, his girlfriend was always right. After a difficult start, Lance had come back with precision, ready to show his audience today that they had not chosen wrong by choosing him.
And when Lance crossed the finish line in fifth position, climbing more than ten positions, it almost tasted like a podium.
Arriving at park fermé, Lance was welcomed by his girl, his dad and his little bug in his dad’s arms.
“You were sooo fast, Lance!” Lily said excited after shouting at him.
“Did you see, baby?” he asked grabbing her in his arms “I wanted to do it right for you and mom”.
“And flower” the girl reminded him pointing at his dad, whose suit was covered in white flowers stickers much like her little racing suit.
“Yeah, and flower too” Lance corrected himself. “But I wanted to do it super well so that mom and you would want to come with me more times”.
“Are you going to invite us more times?” Lily asked with hope filling her eyes.
“More than that. If you want and mom says yes, I would like to invite you all of the time. And when you can't come, I would like you to be waiting for me at home. In our house, wherever it may be” he finally ask.
Despite all the planning, Lance still wasn't sure how he was going to ask them to live together. He had doubts, but having Lily in his arms and his girlfriend hugging his side cleared them up.
And the smile of his girlfriend said it all “You want us to move together?”
“I want it all together, love”
With a laught, the woman looked at her daughter “What do you say, Lily? Will you want Lance living with us all the time”
"Will he always come back then?" she asked shyly. Suddenly all her energy was contained. She shrank into Lance's chest and avoided eye contact.
Lance's heart broke at her doubt and uncertainty about him, even if it wasn't really about him.
"I will always come back to you and mom, bug" Lance promised.
He wanted to tell her more, to tell her that he wasn't like her dad, to promise her that he would never leave like he did. But that wasn't the place and he knew actions spoke louder than words.
"I love you, Lancey" she murmured hugging his neck tightly.
“Lancey?” her mom asked surprised by the affectionate nickname.
“Yeah, my mommy and my Lancey” the girl explained, hugging her mom too from the arms of the driver, who only hugged them tighter while trying to stop the tears of happiness from falling from his eyes.
That sounded right, he thought. That sounded a lot like a family.
#f1#f1 fanfic#f1 fanfiction#formula 1#formula 1 fanfic#f1 angst#lance stroll fanfic#lance stroll fluff#lance stroll x reader#lance stroll angst#lance stroll#ls18 x reader#ls18
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Back from the dead
Pairing: Aleksander Morozova/The Darkling x Reader
Summary: As a new servant hired to help out in the Little Palace you have a bit of trouble finding your place in the new, unfamiliar environment. It doesn't help that some of the people there seem to know you.
Warnings: mentions of death/dying alone, bleeding out
Word Count: 4k
Authors' Note: I have written something. Congrats to me. I'm not sure if I like it. This isn't edited and I'm not a native English speaker.
"Who is this for? There's no name." You ask with a frown, holding up the dark brown wooden hanger. Usually, the clothes you're supposed to deliver to the Grisha have their name and order on the hanger, but this one is empty.
The other servant in the room with you, Mira, who is currently busy hanging the Kefta of a Tidemaker onto a dark blue hanger, looks up, eyes scanning the wood before her face contorts into a grimace.
"That's for Baghra. She prefers to wash her clothes herself, but once a month, the General asks us to steal her clothes and wash and repair them. Small warning: she's probably going to yell at you when you give them back."
You pull your eyebrows together, a deep wrinkle forming between them. "Wouldn't it make sense to just put them in front of her house in a basket or something instead of giving them to her personally? Or waiting until she's out again to bring them back inside?"
Mira shakes her head quickly. The movement makes her hair look like the most expensive black satin available.
"She has definitely noticed that someone took her clothes while she was out training the kids. She's waiting for someone to return them to let out some of her anger. There's no way Baghra is leaving her house until her clothes are back and she got to verbally abuse someone. I'm sorry."
Her attention goes back to the Tidemakers kefta, her long fingered hands carefully smoothing any wrinkles out of the material while her gaze checks the clothing item for any loose threads before hanging it up on the clothing rack next to her and moving onto the next item, a cream coloured cotton blouse with some beautifully carved wooden buttons.
Your hands dig slightly into the dark fabric of the dress you're holding, trying to determine if Mira is just trying to mess with you for fun or if she's seriously trying to warn you. You've only started working in the Little Palace a week ago and rumours about Baghra quickly found your ears as well, but you foolishly assumed that you would never have to interact with her after finding out that she usually only terrorizes the kitchen staff who bring her her meals.
Carefully looking through the other clothing racks for other dark brown, unnamed hangers, you end up with eight items before you finally leave the room, Miras "good luck!" following you through the halls like a death sentence as you move to leave the Little Palace.
You want to get this done quickly, trying your hardest to talk some bravery into yourself. Getting insulted by the old woman is basically a rite of passage according to some of the things you've heard over the past few days, like getting scared to death by the General or one of his Oprichniki randomly appearing behind you, getting into a fight with a servant from the Grand Palace after they said something mean about the Little Palace, and slipping on the stairs that lead to the kitchens.
You will survive this. Many have survived this before you, and many will continue to survive this after you.
The sun is slowly disappearing behind the palace, dipping the sky into a lovely shade of bright orange, pink, purple and grey-ish blue, reminding you that you will probably be done with work soon after this delivery. You will eat dinner with the other servants, who will probably want to gossip about Baghra with you, and then you will go to sleep for the night. It'll be a nice day, maybe, after you're back.
And then a new day will begin, and hopefully, someone else will be tasked with bringing her clothes back next month.
Of course, there's still the risk of being asked to steal her clothes, but you'll simply try to avoid joining the group scheduled to collect dirty laundry, at least when it's time to sneak into her house.
You've never been a fast runner, and you can't run for long either. She would catch you and beat you to death with that stick you've heard so much about before you even realise that she noticed someone breaking in.
When the house finally becomes visible, you can feel your muscles stiffen, but you force yourself to keep going. This is your job, after all. It's already a big miracle that you got this position in the first place, considering you have no training or experience as a servant. You really can't afford to run back into the palace and cry that you're too scared of the old woman to bring her her clothes.
And saints, what if she finds out you're that scared of her? Your mother always said that people only bully you to get a reaction out of you. They find the fear in your eyes amusing.
And that's what the old woman is, right? A big, old bully who kicks the children she's supposed to train around like pebbles and verbally abuses everyone who gets a bit too close to her.
You can't be weak in front of her. You won't be weak in front of her.
You can't see the woman, but you know she's waiting. You can feel her, somehow. She's lingering in that house, waiting for you to step closer, for your shadow to come just a bit too close to her door, and then she'll rip it open before you get a chance to knock to scare you as much as possible.
It's predictable, simple, and childish, and for some reason, it feels exactly like something Baghra would do. Which is weird because you don't actually know her. You've only heard what the servants and Grisha have gossiped about in the halls of the Little Palace.
But you feel like you've known her. Back when... when you were a child, maybe? No. You grew up in a village so small that the testers don't even bother to go there anymore. You would remember a woman like Baghra, just like you remember everyone else who has ever lived in the village.
Readjusting your hold on the old woman's clothes, you finally get close to the house and take a deep breath, waiting for her to rip the door open. Your steps become heavier and slower a few metres away from the door, hopefully catching her attention before she slams it right into your face.
The plan works. When the door gets thrown open, it misses you by two whole steps. You only feel a bit of air move against your face when an older woman steps out of her home, her dark eyes focused on the clothes bundled up in your arms.
Her thin lips open, ready to begin her verbal attack and insult and ridicule everything about you, when her eyes finally move up to your face.
The words get stuck in her throat and she simply stares at you for a few seconds, eyebrows pulling together as she looks you over.
"I have your fresh laundry, Miss." You announce, trying to make your voice sound as even and calm as possible.
She. doesn't. scare. you.
You might be scaring her a bit though.
A deep frown appears on her face, quickly turning into a scowl when you hold the clothes out to her.
"Did he hide you from me for all this time? Or did you hide yourself from both of us and decided to come back because he has more power now?"
Now it's your turn to frown, confusion written all over your face.
Baghra rolls her eyes, clearly already tired of you and whatever game she thinks you're playing. You try to prepare yourself for some other speech, some explanation of whatever she believes is your plan, but then she says your name, the name you've never given her, and any form of control you had over your body seeps out of it like water through a cheese cloth.
"You supid child. Faces reappear through history, and so do voices. But both? Together? And exactly the same as the first time? Impossible. I'm not gonna fall for your schemes. Take what you need and leave before he sees you. I don't need to hear his pathetic sobbing again. I had enough of that when you first died."
Her thin arms reach out to rip the clothes out of your graps before she moves to return into her house.
"Or, well, didn't die." the old woman murmurs, her gaze finding yours once more. "You really should just stay dead."
Slamming the door shut behind her, she leaves you to stand in front of her house, completely speechless.
What just happened? What was that?
You slowly turn around and walk back to the Little Palace, unable to tell if you can actually feel Baghras eyes following you, her gaze burning itself into your back, or if its a wave of paranoia making you think that that's what's happening.
Of course you're scared. Someone who's not supposed to know your name knows your name. Nobody knows a servants name – except other servants, of course – because no one ever bothers to learn their names. That's just how it is. You're background characters who clean up and take care of the main characters. Nobody learns the name of a background character because they don't matter.
You don't matter.
But why does Baghra know? The only explanation you can come up with is that she harassed some other servant to find out everything about the new servants in hopes of scaring the absolute shit out of them. But why bother with that? For fun? Is she that bored?
Huffing quietly, you slip back into the Little Palace and go back into the basement, simply letting out a deep sigh when Mira asks you how it went. She smiles encouragingly and promises you to give you half of her desert at dinner tonight in hopes of cheering you up a bit.
You have trouble sleeping that night, and it doesn't get better the next night, or the one after that. Instead, you dream more vividly than ever before, waking up completely exhausted rather than well rested like you should be after six to eight hours of sleep.
You never remember what you dreamed about.
"You didn't have to..." You say quietly, carefully cradeling the fresh herbs.
"Well, if you don't want them-" The man playfully reaches out to take the bundles back, but you move them out of his grasp quickly, accompanied by a bright laugh. "Come on, I can give them to someone else. I bet my mother would appreciate them."
"You are not going to re-gift these, Sasha! They're mine now." You giggle. "I have some flowers you could bring your mother though! I doubt she's going to openly appreciate them, but she might like them. You know, in her own way."
He smiles and takes a slow step forward, his face hovering directly over yours.
"I will bring them to her later. Right now, I just want to focus on you."
A soft smile paints itself onto your lips and you wait for him to lean down and press a kiss against them.
Your laugh echoes loudly through the house when he finally catches up to you, his arms wrapping tightly around you.
"Caught you," He huffs, his head bending down to lean against yours. Your hands move to his, holding onto them tightly as you let yourself sink down onto the soft carpet in your living room, pulling the man down with you. He sits down before you get the chance to, pulling you onto his lap, his lips pressing small kisses onto your shoulder and neck.
You lean back against his chest and soak up the warmth his body gives off. "It's not fair. Your legs are longer than mine. Of course you're faster than me."
"You were the one who suddenly ran off and yelled you'll have to catch me first! when I asked you for a simple goodbye kiss." The man laughs, and you can feel how the amusement and joy you felt before disappear slowly.
"I don't want you to go, Sasha."
You don't like admitting it. It makes you feel weak. A voice in the back of your mind whispers that he would never miss you the way you miss him. It sounds a bit too much like his mother, and you wonder when your inner voice of self-doubt started copying her voice. Since when do you even care what she thinks?
"I know, lapushka... But I'll be back soon, I promise. It'll be fine. You won't even notice I'm gone. Everything will be alright. I would never let anything happen to you, I swear it."
You can't hear anything.
You can't tell if it's actually that quiet or if your body is starting to give up and you lost your hearing. Hopefully, it's just silent. It would be a shame if you could never hear Aleksanders voice again.
But silence isn't good either, you think. There are supposed to be screams around you. If they stopped screaming, that means they're dead. That means you're next.
But you can't be next. Aleksander isn't here yet, and he promised he would be back. He promised, and he never breaks his promises.
He has to come back. He swore he would make sure you would be safe, and while you told him that that's a stupid and impossible thing to promise someone, you did believe him when he said it.
But where is he?
How are you supposed to keep your own promise if he's not here to save you?
You said you wouldn't leave him behind, but you can't keep that if they burn you. You're not strong enough to withstand flames and endless torture. No one is.
It's shocking how bad he is at cooking. He's completely devoid of any talent.
Sure, simple broths and soups are no issue, but as soon as the recipe requires a bit more thought, he is suddenly helpless.
Of course you would never tell him that. Not when he always tries so hard to help you, eyes wide and pleading as he begs you to let him take over some of the work.
"Please. I promise I won't mess up."
He always does, but you love him anyway.
He is a fantastic baker though. Every loaf of bread he works on, every cookie and every cake, turns into something perfect. As soon as sugar is involved, he suddenly becomes the most gifted man in all of Ravka.
Probably because he doesn't want to waste precious sugar, no matter what shape it comes in. Honey, fruit, berries, it doesn't matter. If it's sweet he loves it. That's just how he is.
He has a big smile on his lips when he shows you the freshly baked loaf of bread he worked on that day, already talking about what he's going to pair it with later when it's finally cooled down.
You know you should tell him not to eat so much sugar, to instead pair the bread with some of the cheese you still have in the house, but his smile is such a rare sight nowadays. You can't bring yourself to ruin his good mood.
Your head is resting on his chest, ear pressed against his skin to listen to his resting heartbeat. His face is relaxed.
He looks younger like this. Every time he is awake he looks and acts like the fate of the whole world rests on his shoulders, but when he's stuck in the world of dreams he is completely calm.
He looks like the boy he was never really allowed to be.
You're glad that he managed to find rest relatively quickly considering how outraged he was after his fight with his mother just an hour before, his loud voice booming through the small abandoned house you're hiding in.
"Who does she think she is to keep trying to force her opinions down my throat? I don't care about what she thinks. I get to choose who I want to spend my life with. She has no say in this. She doesn't even know you! You would never leave me, right?"
A quiet mumble leaves his lips, his arms moving to wrap around you, pressing you closer to him before he rolls to his side and presses his face against the space between your neck and shoulder, his warm breath brushing over your skin and pulling you out of your thoughts.
You try your hardest not to flinch at the sensation, no matter how much it tickles you. Instead you start to brush your hands through his hair, carefully massaging his scalp with your fingernails. His body tenses slightly, just for a few seconds, before he fully relaxes again, letting out a content sigh that sounds suspiciously like your name.
Smiling weakly you press a kiss onto his neck before closing your eyes as well.
"I promise that I won't leave you behind. I'll stay with you until the end of time if you let me. I swear it, Sasha."
Baghra is oddly possessive of her son considering she clearly doesn't like him.
That's the only thing you can think about as you watch her fuss over the boy she has tried so hard to keep hidden from the rest of the small Grisha village.
You want to talk to him. Everyone your age wants to talk to him. There aren't many teens in the village and while you all like each other, you're getting a bit sick of each other as well. Having someone new here to talk and play with could help soften the rising tension.
But that woman... she just shoos you all away as soon as you get too close to her precious son. You can't help but notice that he doesn't seem particularly happy about her behavior either.
He always looks so sad when he watches you and the other play and train, desperate to join you and have some fun instead of helping his mother wash dishes and fix clothes.
Most people would've fought back at some point, would've tried to defend themselves against their mother, but he just sits there and takes it as she scolds him over something stupid again. It's always something stupid, and he just listens to her words with that sad look in his eyes before his gaze begins to wander in hopes of finding something else to focus on, his face flushing from embarrassment.
This time his gaze find you, and even from several metres away you can see how his ears turn red. You try to give him an encouraging smile, but his attention snaps back to his mother before he can see it.
You really need to get him away from her, at least for one night. Maybe you could convince him that you could hunt together or something. He deserves some normal interactions without his mother hovering around him like a bird of prey.
There are screams again, and you're almost glad. Almost.
It's cold now, and it keeps getting colder with all of the blood seeping out of your body, stealing all of the warmth from your limbs and spreading it on the dusty stone floor you're laying on.
You're not sure if its just the exhaustion making you hallucinate or if the shadows are truly moving in your little cell. It would make sense. Aleksander always draws pictures and scenes onto the walls or floor when you can't sleep. Nothing relaxes you more nowadays, except maybe his voice and touch. If your body wants you to stay relaxed as you slowly die, it would probably show you that, right?
You can feel how your powers try to put your body back together. The familiar, almost tingling sensation spreads all over your body, but the blood is still seeping out of you like a small river.
You will die here, you realise. Aleksander hasn't come back and you will die, leaving him behind. He will be on his own again.
You both broke your promise.
Your mind feels like a glass bottle, ready to burst at any moment. You feel fragile and weak, disoriented and somehow... misplaced. You're not where you're supposed to be and you don't know how to get back to your original position.
Where do you belong?
Your physical health deteriorates further as well, alongside your mental health. You're often confused and lost, and your body never stops shaking, forcing you to wear the long, three coloured scarf you used to wear back when you still lived on your families little farm. It's against the uniform guidelines, but no one ever says anything because of how pitiful you look.
Mira compares you to her little siblings a lot, which is always followed by a sad sigh. Both of them are sick, which is why she works at the Little Palace, so far away from home. She sends the money she makes home to make sure they get the medicine they need, and now she takes care of you, giving you easy tasks like repairing small tears in clothes, sowing buttons back on and, of course, bringing the clothes back to their original owners.
You're never asked to go to Baghras hut again though.
"It would just exhaust you more, and you already look like you can barely stand. I don't want you to collapse."
That is Miras' official explanation when you asked why she didn't want you to go, but you're starting to question that reasoning now. If she really wanted to protect you from fainting, why did she send you to bring the General his clothes?
That seems a lot more exciting than being yelled at by the old woman again.
The basket filled with his clothes is also quite heavy and hard to hold with your sweaty palms, a lot harder than the eight hangers that you could simply hug against your body, letting the clothes drape over your crossed arms.
But you really don't want to tell Mira that you don't want to bring him his clothes. It's already embarrassing enough that you are officially no longer allowed to bring clothes to Baghra because of your illness. If you now say you can't bring the General of the Second Army his stupid socks, you might as well resign from your position and go back to your families farm in the middle of nowhere.
He's probably not even in his office. He's a busy man, after all. You will just swoop in, place his laundry basket on the floor next to the door, and take the basket with his dirty laundry back to be cleaned.
A simple job. You're scared for no reason. And even if he is there, he never interacts with the servants. You haven't seen him once since you started working in the Little Palace, and you know several other servants who have been here for longer and have never seen him either.
It'll be fine.
You repeat those words to yourself over and over until you finally see the dark, beautifully carved wooden doors that lead to the Darklings quarters.
The oprichniki standing in front of them eye you suspiciously, but they knock and open the door for you anyways, stepping aside to let you in.
They close the door behind you as soon as you're inside, and your gaze automatically swoops up to the man sitting at the desk at the other end of the room. You planned to just drop the basket off and get the dirty one, but now that you're actually here and in front of the General, you can't bring yourself to move.
There's a tingling sensation at the back of your neck, like your brain is trying to dig up a memory that isn't there anymore. Like you've seen this man before, but you don't remember where.
He's bent over his desk, his dark eyes reading through a thick, several pages long letter, paying you no attention while you shamelessly stare and try to remember where you could've possibly seen him.
He has definitely never been to your village. He is the Darkling.
A sigh leaves his lips after a few agonizing seconds, but he does not look up.
You're starting to get a headache now. The bottle feels like it's going to burst.
"Drop the basket off at the door. The dirty laundry is in my bedroom. Simply go through the door on the right and you'll find it."
You take a step backwards, your back hitting the door as you try your hardest not to drop the basket. There is a name right on the tip of your tongue, demanding you speak it into the silence lingering in the room.
The headache is now a sharp pain, right at the base of your skull. It feels almost like a warning. Like your body is begging you not to say it. To simply get the laundry and leave and never come back. To not let the botte burst.
"Aleksander?"
He looks up, eyes widening when his gaze finds your face. He whispers your name so quietly you almost miss it.
The bottle bursts.
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💫Did I even deserve you?💫
✨Pairing: Vampire!Seonghwa x dead!gn!reader ✨Prompt: Vampire Seonghwa is still miserable many decades after losing his soulmate. ✨Word Count: 3.4k ✨Genre: angst, vampire au, soulmate au 🌙Warnings: talks of death, reader is mentioned but not alive in this story, no use of y/n, mentions of Seonghwa not feeding for a long period of time, lost of a loved one, mentions of how he wishes he wasn't on this earth anymore, grief, ghosts, let me know if I missed any warnings! ☀️️Authors note: Got this idea into my head and wanted to explore writing angst in this setting. It is very different from what I usually write and I have worked hard on this one and I am quite pleased with the outcome.
The moon was high up in the sky, illuminating the forest in a light wash of grey. Highlighting the fog that is developing the forest and the castle making it look eerie and abandoned. Cobwebs dancing around windows and moss climbing up the bricks together with the roses that are climbing parts of the castle.
Both beautiful and dangerous.
It was said that sometimes you could see ghosts walking past the windows. Some even claimed to have seen a ghost in the rose garden. Walking around and calling out for their beloved but no response.
Young children were warned not to go there. It was dangerous and better to stay away from a place that would most likely fall in a few decades. The road to the castle was brittled with rocks, thick trees and bushes.
It was not a pleasant road.
Despite that there was a lone figure hiking their way up to the castle, dressed in a black robe. The figure was walking very slowly as if every step towards the castle was painful, making him hurt deeply. Despite that, he continued on with heavy footsteps to the one place he called home.
The owl up in the tree hooted familiarly once he was spotted and the howls of wolves could be heard throughout the forest. None of this bothered the man, for he knew that no one would dare to try and hurt him. A man of the night, a bloodthirsty bloodsucker as the humans once had called people like him.
Now he and his family were nothing more than a mere legend.
A myth.
Something humans wrote stories about without believing they actually existed. Sometimes the man wishes he no longer existed in this world.
It would be easier than walking around the world knowing your fated one was no longer walking this earth.
Unfortunately he was doomed to walk this cruel earth until the end of time as it was now.
The closer he got to his home the more dread and sorrow filled his entire being. He used to be filled with such happiness coming back here but now that was all gone.
The grand doors to the castle opened welcoming, sensing one of its masters returning home. The candles lighting up as he entered the hallway and walked down towards the place where he knew his brothers were residing.
They were expecting him after all. Like they do every year around this time when he gets back from his three month search around the world for anyone who could help him bring back his fated one to life.
And like every year he came back unsuccessful.
It was as if the world was taunting him. Taunting him for not being careful enough. For not appreciating what he had and for being arrogant thinking he could best fate and death because of who he was.
Seonghwa
Your voice.
He stopped what he was doing. Only the wind was blowing in from an opened window. The figure looked around carefully, not making much movements, for us mortals it would have looked like he was completely still.
He shook his head gently. It must have been the wind. It cannot have been your voice he heard.
You are no longer here he told himself as he continued his walk towards the room his brothers were in. He could not have heard your voice whisper his name in the wind. You were dead, no longer walking this earth and it felt like his heart was breaking into thousands of pieces every single day when he remembers that.
He remembers your smile, your laughter, your kindness. Everything that he once took for granted he now misses with such intensity that he does not know what to do with himself. It is like the joy he once had is now gone, sucked out of his body leaving behind a cold empty shell.
He starts walking again. He knows his brothers have heard him arrive and he knows that they are waiting for him. The closer he gets the more he can hear them. Shuffling around in the living room, living their normal lives.
Not stricken by grief.
The doors open once again welcoming, just like the front doors to one of its masters returning home and the noise dies down as he steps inside looking around at his family. They are all there. The first ones he notices are the two brunettes sitting together on the sofa. Yunho, Yeosang. Then he sees the them, San, Wooyoung. The latter holding a large book, open on some random page that they seemed to have been discussing before he arrived. He searched for the youngest of his brothers who he found standing next to the tall blond man near the table. Jongho. Mingi. He counted them in his head, he looked around, searching for the leader of his coven. He found him, standing near the big window gazing out into the garden. Hongjoong.
A part of him felt a little better after doing the count. For some reason he had worried they would not all be here when he came back despite the fact that they were always there. No doubt. They would always be here to welcome him home after his long journey.
The blond at the window turned around and when their eyes met he gave him a smile.
"Welcome home Seonghwa. We have missed you." He said taking a few short steps forward to greet him. Taking him into an embrace which he returned.
"I am glad to be back." Seonghwa replied even if it was only half the truth. He was glad to be back seeing his brothers but in reality he was not overly pleased being back without a solution to his suffering.
"How was your journey around the world? Did you find what you were searching for?" Hongjoong questioned even though Seonghwa suspected he already knew the answer to that just like the rest in the room listening in on their conversation.
"Unfortunately I have yet to find someone or something that could help me bring back my loved one." He told him, his shoulders slumping forward. He tried to put on a neutral face but Hongjoong was smart, he could see through his facade quicker than anyone else in their coven. His eyes had shown a glimt of understanding as he nodded carefully.
"You look awful, have you been feeding at all when you have journeyed???" Wooyoungs voice pierced through the air, clearly targeted at him and he could only shrug his shoulders opting not to look at the younger vampire.
"I do not feel hungry anymore Wooyoung." Was the only thing he could give as a response and if he had not already been dead the look Wooyoung sent him would have put him 5 feet under the ground as they spoke.
"You have to feed Seonghwa. It is not healthily to avoid feeding for as long as you have! Lat time I saw you feed was three months ago before you left!" Wooyoung stalked towards him "Are you telling me you have not feed in three months??"
They stared at each other for a long while. He knew all of them already knew the answer. It was the same every year and like every year before this year Wooyoung always grew furious when he figured that he had been neglecting his own health.
Again.
He could feel the energy around him tense up. The others were clearly not happy at all with this and yet despite that Seonghwa could not get himself to care about it. Had it been the other way around he would have been furious, furious at his brothers for ignoring their health and not eating but since it was him and not them he found himself often not caring. He would rather wallow in his grief, allowing the ugly feelings tormenting him to come to the surface in various ways.
"How is my beloved? Are they still safe in their casket?" He asked, voice cracking at the word beloved.
The very thought of you not being there or the possibility of something happening to you whilst he was gone was terrifying to him and he had to fight hard to stop the tears wanting to well up in his eyes.
Wooyoungs furious eyes soften instantly when he had asked the question and the other looked at him with sympathy. Yunho nodded confirming that you were still safe, still protected in the garden he had grown just for you.
"They are safe Seonghwa. We have made sure nothing could harm them whilst you were away." San said, giving him that kind smile only San could give someone when they needed it the most. Seonghwa felt like he could see the stars in his brothers eyes at that moment and it never failed to amaze him how much love and adoration could be seen in Sans eyes and how it was always something very real. It never faded or changed no matter how many decades had passed and right now he was thankful for it.
For the love and compassion his brothers were showing him.
"Why do you not sit down? Tell us about your journey? What has changed in the world since last time you went outside?" Hongjoong questioned whilst leading him over to the big chair, gently guiding him to eventually sit down in it. A blanket was placed over him, Mingi moving with utmost care to wrap it around him to keep him warm. He almost let words of protests out until he saw the worry in his eyes.
"Your beloved would not want you neglecting yourself like this." Was all he said with a low rumble before standing up and walking over to Jongho.
That stung.
His heart ached at the comment Mingi had said. Everyone had heard it. It was impossible for them not to hear him. They just pretended like nothing had been said but he knew they were silently agreeing with him. Agreeing with the statement that you, his beloved, who no longer walked this earth, would not want him to neglect himself and his health.
He wants to respond. To deny what Mingi has said. He has rationalized in his head that you would be okay with what he is doing so he can bring you back and the two of you can live together again like you did before.
The rest of his coven sits down all looking at him with curious eyes. Waiting for him to start telling them about his journey.
"It is all the same. Nothing has really changed in the outside world. We are still myths and legends. The only thing that has changed amongst humans is their greed. I would say they have become even greedier and distrusting than before."
"Humans have always been greedy and distrusting Seonghwa." Hongjoong cut him off before sending an apologetic look when he glared at his coven leader.
"I would say they are even more so now than before. I searched through every country on this bloody earth and I found no one. No one who could help me bring my beloved back. The sights I saw when wandering should have taken my breath away but all it did was make me angry. Furious that they were not next to me witnessing it all. At one point on a cliff looking out at the ocean I screamed. I cursed everything living and dead that day. I was so angry and I still am." Seonghwa spoke, his hands fiddling with the blanket as his eyes darken in anger.
His brothers look at each other in worry. They had hoped after many decade that Seonghwas fury and anger would dwindle down but it only seemed to grow with each year. Wooyoung looked at his older brother and friend in sorrow, he had been close to you, Seonghwas beloved, when you were still living and breathing. He understood the pain and anger Seonghwa was feeling but he also knew that you would not wish this upon anyone. Once having confided in him that you would want them to move forward to be happy, not to forget but to eventually come to cherish what had been rather than constantly living in the past thinking of what you could have done together if only things had gone differently.
"And I-" Seonghwa started but stopped once he heard it again.
Seonghwa.
He looked around. He swore he had heard your voice again. This time it could not have been the wind for no window was open.
"Hwa? What is wrong?" Yunhos voice brought him back from his thoughts as he turned to look at him.
"Y-you did not hear that?"
"Hear what?"
"Nothing." He shakes his head "It was nothing."
"Perhaps you should go and rest?" Yeosang chimed in and the others agreed, nodding their heads.
Seonghwa looked at them before glancing around again, he was sure he heard you but now since none other than him seems to have heard you he wonders if some rest would actually help him.
So he nods and he can see the other's shoulders drop down in relaxation as if they had been expecting him to put up a fight and argue with them about resting.
"Perhaps I should... but I would like to go see them first." He feels stupid, like a child asking for permission to do something when he is the oldest in the coven. He could do whatever he wanted and if that was to go out into the rose garden and visit you then he could without permission.
He stands up before anyone can answer what he has said, he lays the blanket back on the chair before he strides towards another sets of doors which will lead him back to a corridor and down a few flight of stairs before he can enter the garden.
The doors open immediately for him and he makes a point of quietly thanking the castle for opening its doors for him. He remembers the first time he had gone out on his three month journey. When he had come back inconsolable wanting to leave that room to go see you the castle had refused. Refused to open its doors and windows for its master to go wherever he pleased.
Not until he had calmed down and only the silent tears were staining his cheeks had he been allowed out. It was after his brothers had held him close, allowing him to grieve in safety and then being given a cup of blood to drink by Wooyoung to help stabilize himself.
After that the castle had always listened to him. And now he was walking with a sense of purpose, he had to see you again. It always pains him to be away from you for three months when he spends almost every single day around you. Tending to the roses or cleaning the glass casket you lay inside whilst talking quietly to you about his days or how much he misses you.
As he walks out of the door and into the garden he stops in his tracks when he sees something or rather someone walking ahead of him.
You.
He cannot stop himself before he rushes forward and just as he is to grab your hand you vanish.
"No... No no no no no!" He mumbles to himself, now sprinting towards the rose garden, you cannot be gone.
You cannot.
Seonghwa almost trips over the steps leading up to where you lay and he stops at the casket breathing heavily gripping it tightly as he takes you in.
You are still there. Untouched. Just like the way you had been when he had left three months ago.
"My beloved." He whispers and just like that the tears are welling up again in his eyes.
Seonghwa. My love.
Seonghwa gasps as he hears your voice again turning around since he can hear your voice from behind him. He had not expected to actually see you. You are pale, standing there and he notes as he falls down on his knees in shock that you are slightly transparent.
"My beloved. My love." He says while the first tear fall down his pale cheek. His voice is growing thick with emotion and when you look at him with those sad eyes he cannot help himself from crawling up to you trying to take ahold of your hand in his only to realize he is unable to.
"No. Please no. Please." He whimpers looking up at you as the waterworks starts afresh.
You have to let me go.
"No! No no no no please I cannot do that. Please I am sorry I cannot live in a world without you. Please do not leave me." He pleads over and over again trying to take ahold of you but he keeps going through you. His eyes looks almost wild as he tries everything to be able to hold you.
You can see how his heart breaks over and over at not being able to hold you and you know you cannot be visible for much longer.
I love you.
When Seonghwa notices that you are disappearing from his view is when he goes into hysterics. He wails for you to come back to him, he screams in fear, anger and grief and it echos loudly throughout the entire forest. He roars in anger, smashing a statue before breaking down again near the casket. Sobbing over and over again that he is sorry, that he wishes you would come back to him. He asks for death to take him once and for all so he can reunite with you.
He grips his head as he cries, wails and screams in fury and sadness. It is like an explosion he cannot control. Seonghwa is unsure of how much time has passed but he finds that he does not care. All he cares about is that he saw you and he could not hold you one last time like he wished he could. He contemplates for a moment to destroy your casket just so he could hold you in his arms again but he physically cannot make that move.
He cannot destroy your last sleeping place. That would be like spitting on your entire existence if he did, so he finds himself hurting himself and the statues and rose bushes around himself in a fit of anger.
Up in the castle seven figures are looking out of the window from the room they still were in. Hearing Seonghwas wails of agony and grief pained them. It was as if someone was driving a spear into their non-beating heart over and over again.
"I wish I could take away all his pain and suffering. All this grief." Jongho mumbles before leaning close to Hongjoong, hiding his face in the crook of his leaders neck as said man brings an arm around him to bring comfort.
"I never want to find my soulmate... It will only bring even more anguish to him. He will constantly be reminded of his own soulmate who he no longer has. I do not want to make him go through that." San says, tears building up in his eyes.
"You cannot stop it from happening San. Do not deprive yourself of the happiness of finding your soulmate because Seonghwa lost his. That is not something he would want. He would want you to be happy. You know that San." Yunho said whilst giving the younger a sad smile, tears also in his eyes as Seonghwa continues to scream and wail out apologies, curse words and asking for you to come back to him.
"Grief... What is not grief if not love persevering. It is proof of how much he has loved and cherished his beloved. He was just too blind in the moment that he thought he could best death and now all these years later after death won he cannot handle it. Because he has yet to fully accept that they are gone. He has yet to accept that they are gone. It might take years until he gets over the stages of anger, denial, depression and guilt. We will be there to help him through it all. I was thinking of going with him next year so he will not be alone on his journey." Hongjoong says eyes sharply focused on the figure down below.
Eyes slightly widening when he sees something or someone behind his brother before it disappears. He could have sworn it looked like you but he must have been wrong. It was probably the tears in his eyes clouding his vision.
It could not have been you.
You were dead.
Gone.
Forever.
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If I Have To Ask You One More Time! Zoro x Reader (OPLA)
y/n is in charge of cleaning the ship and a certain swordsman makes their job just that bit harder. Zoro x Female Reader.
Y/N
It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, the waves had been smooth, and you'd docked on a small island to restock before heading towards The Grand Line. You'd decided to stay on the ship to get some odd jobs done, in particular, a good mop of the deck before heading inside to clean. You'd been on the ship a couple of months but you knew Nami appreciated having a) another girl around and b) a clean ship because guys could be messy. Zoro was the worst offender, after fights letting blood from his swords drip all around the ship which meant more work for you.
After mopping the entire deck, you head to your hammock to take a short nap before continuing your tasks. However, a loud thud on the deck directly above you startles you awake, because you didn't expect the others back for a few more hours. You grab your knives just in case someone else is on your ship and quietly make your way back to the deck.
You spot drops of blood from the gangplank and follow them towards the kitchen, nostrils flaring enraged because you'd just mopped and you knew who was responsible.
'ZORO!' you growl, as you rush into the kitchen.
The swordsman looks up at you blankly from where he is sitting at the table cleaning blood off his swords, 'you okay y/n? something wrong?' he asks, oblivious to the fact he is the problem.
You take one of your knives and plunge it into the wooden table glaring at him, 'If I have to clean one more bloodstain from the deck I'm going to kill someone, I'm going to kill you Zoro.'
Zoro tilts his head, eyes a little wide at your raised voice, 'sounds a little counterproductive y/n.'
You pull out the knife and shake your head, 'poison would do the trick.'
You didn't like getting angry, and now your emotions were taking over making you upset at how oblivious Zoro was to your hard work. So you storm out of the kitchen, wanting to be alone.
ZORO
y/n didn't get mad, so their outburst at me took me by surprise, and then they left without another word. What were they going on about when they talked about blood, murder and poison? Girls were confusing, maybe Nami could shed some light.
TIME SKIP
I pull Nami aside when she returns, and see her staring at the blood on the deck with a frown, 'I thought y/n mopped the deck.'
I shrug my shoulders, 'I guess it was wet when I came back.'
Nami looks up at me and I explain the encounter with y/n, but what she does next annoys me because she slaps me across the back of my head, 'You're an idiot Zoro. y/n has taken it upon themselves to keep this ship clean and you continue to mess it up without thinking about their feelings. Almost like you forget they are even a part of the crew. I'm surprised it took them this long to snap.'
I rub my head after the scolding. I guess I could get lost in my own world. Nami was right because y/n was always quiet and always quick to help I might have taken them for granted, but I had to show each crew member respect and that included y/n.'
Nami goes off and I head below deck to y/n's little space to apologise. I never wanted anyone to be mad or upset because of me, and I guess I was thankful for y/n making the ship a nicer place to be.
'Zoro, what are you doing here?' y/n asks, sitting up in their hammock with puffy eyes.
'I'll try and remember to clean my swords before I come back on the ship, or clean up after myself if I make a mess. I'm sorry, I respect you and am thankful for all that you do for us,' I ramble, all my words coming out at once.
It wasn't like me to ramble, I was reserved and stoic, but I never liked seeing girls cry. Not wanting to be here any longer I turn to leave, but a hand grabs my wrist stopping me in my tracks.
'Thank you for apologising Zoro, I know it's hard for you so this will stay between the two of us,' y/n says softly and I feel the tension leave my body because y/n was trustworthy.
I click my tongue, 'You might want to talk Nami out of telling the others.'
y/n nods and starts to drag me back to the deck, 'I'll talk to Nami and you take this.'
They thrust a mop at me and wink before skipping off to find the navigator. I had to mop the deck quickly before the guys saw me and asked questions.
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