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saintslewis · 2 days

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❝ 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐃 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄: 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc; Nadia

summary: in which Nadia doesn’t play about her man.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, fighting, slight aggression towards nadia.

saint’s team radio 🪩: let me tell you guys something. this is one of my favourite chapters i’ve written. can’t believe we’re on chapter 11! Hope you enjoy!

and happy birthday mntase! (hopefully you’ll see this!)

dividers by @cafekitsune

pictures from pinterest and instagram!

faceclaim: @/unclewaffles_ on ig!

The glow of the Eiffel Tower shining through the hotel window was all Nadia could stare at, her eyes behind her glasses gazing back and forth at the sparkles from the metal structure.

Four seasons welcomed the two in their suite with decadent chocolates and overly luxurious desserts, a treat for their short plane ride from London.

Evening had begun and the two had spent the past few hours that they had been in Paris just lounging around. Lewis working on some emails with Nadia styling her wig to perfection for the next evening, Pharrell’s latest Louis Vuitton collection as the new creative director. An event she could not wait to attend, a dream come true for her and what she wanted to do for herself in the future if she decides to stop teaching.

The sun had long gone down and the Eiffel Tower was an incredible sight, Nadia’s emotions all over the place because she truly thought she wouldn’t be here, that she was dreaming too big but she was here with someone she knew she had feelings for. “Lewis! Are you ready yet?” Nadia spoke out, adjusting her glasses with her finger as she plopped herself on the couch.

“Yeah actually. I wanted bigger frames and the optometrist said my left eye’s slowly getting its vision back.” She responded. “You went during Spain?” “Mhm.”

Nadia’s attention turned towards his head full of hair, short extensions sitting next to her to braid into his hair. “Can you hand me the gel?” She softly asked, beginning to feel at the soft hair in front of her, running her manicured fingers through it as it sent shivers down Lewis’ spine.

Not much time had passed for them to start talking on anything random, the current topic being Nadia’s school years. “Oh yeah, Cambridge was a bit odd because there weren’t a lot of us there. Most professors doubted that I’d graduated but then I showed those motherfuckers.” She laughed, working on a braid.

“It was a fun experience and I was more than grateful to leave. Oxford though, was me just experimenting and seeing if I could get in for my honours in History and here I am.” Nadia continued, Lewis humming in response. “What did you really want to do though? I saw you displayed your degrees back at home.” He spoke, using his hands to speak.

“I’ve always wanted to do something in fashion but my mom straight up said that it wouldn’t get me anywhere so it was either Cambridge or sitting around with her all day.” She expressed. This made Lewis turn around with his face fully confused. “I thought you were good with your mom.”

“So did I, Lew. She’s a very complex person so most of my time was spent away from her. Until we eventually mended things then boom! I got married to you.” Nadia spoke, deciding to let out a little chuckle at the little joke.

The last sentence made Lewis’ mind work overtime. He didn’t want to come up with a theory just yet, not when they’ve come so close together in such little time. “My team worked with my family for this, as my stepmum said. Said it’ll make me look good.” Lewis confessed. Just like that, Nadia’s hands stopped working.

“What the hell were you doing for them to do that?” She asked, head tilted to look at him while her hand was entangled in his hair. All he could do was shrug, he was just told he was getting married a week prior to meeting Nadia. “Damn, this fame thing is weird as shit.” She said out loud and they laughed.

After telling each other their backstories and feeling like they know each other a little better, Lewis hair was eventually done. “Look at you looking all handsome.” She complimented him, washing her hands in the bathroom then coming back out to look at him. He already felt like he looked good but hearing it from Nadia felt so much better. “Thank you. Got gentle hands on you, maybe I should get you to do my hair.” He smirked at her.

Rolling her eyes with a smile, she cleaned everything up and began walking towards the bedroom. “And who’s supposed to be your super smart, talented, beautiful wife?” She winked at him as she walked and he couldn’t help but shake his head with the biggest smile on his face.

A Maybach van was the vehicle of choice to head to the show at the Pont Neuf bridge, the drive shorter than she initially thought.

“It’s not as cold as I thought it’d be.” Nadia softly spoke, playing with her skirt, her nerves eating at her. Looking over at her, Lewis held his hand out and she took it without a second thought. “Everyone who meets you will fall in love with you, I swear.” Just like I did was what he wanted to finish his sentence with.

“This isn’t as out of the box as I can go but what if it’s like super packed?” She stressed. This wasn’t a mediocre event, this was a place she always saw herself being one day and out of her mother’s shadow. Making a name for herself.

“Nads, you’re with me. We’ll be more than okay and you look good as fuck. Don’t forget who you are.” Lewis spoke with pure confidence and that last part made her turn to him with curiosity etched on her face.

“Now you’re losing me.” She spoke. “Remember how you told me after Canada that I’m ‘Lewis fucking Hamilton?’” The memory came back and she couldn’t help but giggle at it, her grillz showing.

“I was being your hype woman, man. Of course I’m gonna say shit like that.” Nadia smiled at that, her hand still holding Lewis’.

He then put on a smug expression. “Exactly, now it’s my turn. You’re Nadia fucking Hamilton. Never doubt yourself.” He spoke in his relaxed voice, knowing that it would get to her easily. Like clockwork, she adjusted herself in her seat and sat up right as if she was manually accepting the words spoken to her.

Her confidence truly grew as they got to the entrance. Doing promo for LV was the last thing she expected but Lewis cheered her on to do it. Everything felt so surreal, from meeting her celebrity friends who immediately took a liking to her to watching the amazing show front row, taking everything in. Replaying her husband’s words in her head, she interacted with everyone who was itching to meet her and Nadia felt like the world’s biggest star.

Partying with people she admired from afar was something she would cherish forever. She truly didn’t want this to end. “Lewis, Nadia! Thank you guys so much for attending.” Pharrell called out to the couple who were all smiles. The conversation went on merrily with Lewis even promoting Nadia’s styling career. “Oh I would love to work on something. Lewis has been going on about how good you are. So, while I send through some pieces of you guys, I’ll also send you my details so we can work something out?” The older man suggested.

“That sounds amazing! Yeah, I love that!” She beamed from ear to ear, grillz flashing ever so beautifully. After saying goodbyes, Nadia turned to Lewis who had been admiring her the entire time. Throwing her arms around him, the two hugged with cameras panning over to them. “Thank you, my love.” She said to him, leaning to kiss him on the cheek.

“I lo-”

“Nadia! Bae! Come over here!” Megan thee stallion’s voice boomed as her and Zendaya beckoned Nadia over to them. The woman looked to her husband who just gave her a closed smile. “Go have fun, I’ll be with Jay and Bey.” Lewis spoke, patting the side of her ass.

“Okay cool, see you later!” Squeezing him once more, she let go of the hug and ran to her new friends.

Lewis knew that it wasn’t the right time to admit such. He just wanted to blurt it out so that she knows how he feels, how he feels a pull every time she walked away, how he wants to give her the universe just to see her smile.

BROMLEY, SOUTH LONDON

The bass of a mixture of reggae and amapiano songs hit through the speakers of the range rover, the long drive from their house enjoyable with both their voices singing over the music at times.

Nadia being the designated driver this time, she carefully drove as the two reached Nicola’s house. The two got the invite shortly after the chaos that was Austria to have a pre-Silverstone celebration with everyone as Nicola called it. An awkward Tuesday to host a lunch/dinner but a great gesture nonetheless. It was more of a surprise that everyone was actually available to do such a thing.

Eventually finding parking behind Mile’s car, it was clear that they were most certainly late. Hopping out of the car, her LV trainers landed on the pebbles underneath her with a bit of a limp to her step. Nadia prayed it was less visible than what it was the day before. Opening the back car door to get the plastic containers filled with everything she brought for this lunch, baked goods prepared with love and excitement.

“You look so good today, baby.” She heard his voice as she closed the door to the car. “I look like a walking ad but thank you, love.” Nadia responded, handing the containers for him to hold as they made their way to the door.

Not even bothering to knock, Lewis walked into the busy house and the scent of different foods filled the air and you could hear loud laughter from the background. The place was huge, perfect for a big family.

Before they could take another step into the welcoming foyer, two familiar screams echoed through. “Auntie Nadia! Sir Uncle!” Willow and Kaiden came rushing towards the pair, Nadia already crouching on the floor with open arms to hug the two eager children. “We missed you so much, Auntie Nadia!” Willow smiled brightly, unable to contain her excitement.

“Wooow, what about your uncle?” Lewis joked as the kids embraced his legs since his arms were pre-occupied with the containers.

On the way to the kitchen to greet whoever was in there, she admired the homey feeling of it all and she was also just guessing where everything was, following the aroma of the food like the cartoons. “Nadia, oh my god! You guys are finally here!” The host herself exclaimed as she hurried to the confused girl. “I’m so glad you guys are here! It’s so good seeing you again and might I say, you’re glowing!”

The two women had gotten quite used to each other over the course of the few months, the kids growing obsessed with Nadia and wanted to see her every so often. Rather being scared of doing anything with Lewis’ family without him being there, Nadia kept a distance but kept a huge smile on for the kids whenever Nicola would randomly facetime.

“I use this one cleanser, maybe that’s why.” The girl grinned, kinda nervous that anyone could see her slight limp. “Sure, a cleanser. You look amazing, though. The kids were happy to see you on screen on Sunday, they were buzzing.” The older woman spoke.

“I missed them a lot. Austria was insane, it was cold and nothing was going right but at least we’re here for Silverstone.” Nadia shrugged, not wanting to talk about the previous grand prix that gave her stress. “I’ve never really liked that track so I understand you fully.” Nicola nodded after responding.

Nadia looked behind Nicola for a bit and unbeknownst to her, her eyes smiled with a lingering feeling within them. Lewis approached the two woman standing in the hallway but Nicola could already tell as she watched her sister in law fall in love in front of her.

The siblings greeted each other with hugs before Lewis turned to Nadia. “There’s someone I want you to meet.” He told her, a soft expression on his face as he saw become slightly nervous. “Oh, do I look okay?” She asked the siblings and they nodded simultaneously. “I’ll be right here so I show you around the house.” Nicola said, giving her a thumbs up before walking away.

“You seem to know the house well.” Nadia commented as her hand fit snug into Lewis’ hand to wherever he was leading her. “Willow and Kaiden dragged me around the house while you were chatting.” He responded. His hands led her by the shoulders towards the kitchen of the house, a large well lit space that felt like home with a modern touch.

A short woman with white hair was standing by the island, talking to the ever positive Miles. Upon hearing the new footsteps entering the kitchen, the woman turned around and gasped at the sight before her before a smile took over her face. “Hi mum.” Lewis chuckled and in that moment, Nadia’s stomach dropped.

Snapping her head to look at Lewis then his mom, she eventually saw the resemblance between the two and her heart fluttered. She moved to greet Miles with a hug before turning to the older woman. “Mum, I’d like you to meet my wife, Nadia.” He introduced her. The girl took a quick breath before greeting. “Hello, it’s so nice to meet you.” She said softly, being at eye level with the older woman.

Carmen didn’t have to say anything, she quickly embraced Nadia in a hug with a chuckle in between. “My dear, the pleasure’s all mine. Aren’t you the stunner.” His mother smiled, gently placing her hand on Nadia’s cheek. “Is he treating you well?” Carmen continued.

“Like a queen.” Nadia smiled, her attention never moving away from his mom. The two women were so caught up in their conversation that they hadn’t realised that the boys had left the kitchen. “Oh and I brought cinnamon rolls along with other desserts!” Nadia expressed excitedly, walking around the kitchen after offering her help to make charcuterie boards to bring to the set up in the backyard.

“He had mentioned that you made him Macarons, I’d love the recipe or even a baking session one day.” Carmen spoke, adjusting her glasses and in that moment, Nadia felt right at home.

Several hours later, everyone had gotten comfortable in the backyard adorned with fairy lights with the table set up in the garden. Miles and Daniel played basketball in the tennis court tucked behind the garden, their cheers and laughter heard from quite far. Amara, who landed in London a week early for Silverstone was helping Nicola with the music playlist and Nadia was entertaining the kids with giant jenga.

Lewis and his father overlooked the backyard with glasses of juice in their hands, Lewis particularly admiring Nadia with the kids.

“What are you thinking there, son?” Anthony asked. “I love her so much, Dad. It clicked quite some time ago but I don’t know how she feels and that…scares me.” Lewis confessed.

Anthony wasn’t surprised at his son’s words. “Was it Oxford that clicked for you?” He asked Lewis. Releasing a deep breath, Lewis tightened his grip on his glass. “She was telling me about her graduation and I wanted to just tell her that I was there supporting her and cheering for her but I knew I couldn’t tell her.” He sighed.

“You made a good choice, Lewis. That girl does love you and this family. It just took a couple of years.” Anthony chuckled before taking a sip of juice. “Her mother however…She’s got issues and it’s not easy being in-laws with her.” His father revealed.

“Dad, what do you mean?” Lewis raised an eyebrow and his dad let out a sigh. “Thembi hates her daughter and it’s so sad. She sent her back home so that she wouldn’t come back but Nadia being the intelligent girl she is, came back to the uk to be in Oxford and Cambridge. She only really has a relationship with her mom because of her stepdad.”

In that moment, Lewis felt his heart break for Nadia. This entire situation was quite complicated but to hear the dislike between mother and daughter was very hard. “She was gunning for Nadia to get married so that she could make money off of her. Tia, your pr manager, was a genius for taking Nadia before her mother got to her.” He added.

All this information made Lewis’ admiration for her grow even further. He could see that her side of the family wasn’t really there for her but put an excuse that they were just busy with their own lives. Being shaken out of his thoughts by someone tapping on his shoulder, he looked to see Nicola on his right. “Dinner’s ready.” She smiled.

Chatter scattered around the outdoor dinner table as different things were passed around and jokes were flying around. Many different varieties of food were dished out, making sure there was something for everyone. Nicolas arrived a bit later to the dinner, already claiming a soft spot in Nadia’s heart before everyone sat down.

Her manicured hand held her champagne flute as she laughed loudly at Amara’s story telling skills. Flashes would go off from Miles’ camera who wanted to capture every moment of this picturesque dinner. Nadia’s seat was so close to Lewis’ that there was barely any space left, their legs constantly touching and his arm leaning over her chair. Engaged in two different conversations, the couple remained close throughout.

“Aunty Dia! Can we have the cinnamon rolls?” Willow and Kaiden ran up to her seat, escaping their seats from their parents. Immediately scooting her seat back, Nadia gave her attention to the kids who eagerly held paper plates with serviettes on them. “Of course! Do you want them warm or cold?” She asked the kids, tucking her hair behind her ear.

“Warm!” Willow shouted out and Kaiden just nodded along. “Okay let me take off my jacket then we’ll go.” She smiled. Turning to Lewis, she spoke. “Baby, can you take my jacket? I’m going to the kitchen with the kids.” She asked, already taking the Louis Vuitton jacket off.

The surprised expression on Lewis was quickly replaced with a smirk. “What’d you call me?” He asked with a teasing tone. Catching on to his antics, Nadia rolled her eyes with a smile. “Baby, thank you for taking my jacket.” She said, leaning in to peck to his lips which he happily took. Finally standing up, she held both the children’s hands to go to the well lit kitchen.

“So. When’s the wedding?” Miles spoke, shoving a macaron into his mouth. “Miles, I’m already married.” Lewis said, adjusting his seating. “The actual wedding, bruv. It’s just heart eyes everytime she does anything.” His friend joked, the whole table joining in and laughing.

“I still have to tell her how I feel.” Lewis chuckled and like clockwork, Amara’s hand smacked the back of his head. “If you don’t tell that woman that you love her, I’ll do it for you.” The woman threatened which garnered even more laughter.

“I wanna do it in the perfect moment. She deserves the world and I want to give that to her, even more later in life. It’s like there’s much more light in my life now that she’s in it, y’know?” Lewis spoke, the whole table admiring the way he spoke about Nadia.

“Well then. We’ll have to make sure this marriage stays protected from the public.” Anthony nodded to his son. Willow’s giggles came closer and closer to the table, her brother and Nadia following suite. “What did I miss?” The woman asked as soon as she plopped down in her seat.

“We were just about to talk about Silverstone, my dear.” Carmen responded, smiling at her daughter in law. “Oh lovely!” Nadia chirped up, scooting her chair closer to Lewis’ with his hand comfortably falling on her thigh.

SILVERSTONE

Admittedly so, this track was by far Nadia’s favourite. The paddock was alive, spotting countless people who looked like her (finally) and they donned their Lewis merch. Cameras surrounding her as she walked with her furry companion who seemed to lead the way.

She welcomed everyone who wanted to greet Roscoe and was more surprised at people who wanted to meet her. Race day was undeniably the most busy, people who’ve flown in from different countries just to support her husband. Nadia made sure to update everyone on her instagram throughout her day.

The fan stage was going on and when she heard the loud screams, she knew Lewis stepped on with his giggles through the mic following after. Finally stopping at the Mercedes hospitality, she decided to sit outside to let Roscoe rest from the walk they shared. The family was in their own paddock club suite, patiently waiting for the race. She’d join everyone for the first half of the race then spend the rest of it in the garage.

It all seemed like a good weekend. Seemed.

She really tried her best to be distracted by her phone but her hearing skills were working hard and listened in to the conversation from the group of 4 who were standing right beside the hospitality suite.

“I hate his confidence, he thinks he owns the place!” The one exclaimed.

“Right? It’s all too annoying. He sucks but he doesn’t see that because of his fame. Stupid guy.” Another spoke up.

‘Okay, this could be about any driver.’ Nadia thought.

“Then he comes in her wearing dirty clothes, bringing in his ratchet wife who can’t even dress for the occasion. This isn’t the hood!” There it was. Calmly standing, she called Roscoe and handed him to a worker, making her way to the group. She held her pants, thankfully wearing sneakers.

Nadia hadn’t noticed that Lewis and his teammate were on their way back to the hospitality suite, only one thing was on her mind. She ran her teeth over her grillz before sniffing, making her appearance known to the group.

“Hi, not too sure if you were aware but you’re making an awful lot of noise.” Nadia spoke, a stoic expression on her face. One of them turned to look at Nadia then scoffed.

“What are you going to do about it?” They asked, looking at her up and down with a scowl on her face.

“I’m here to tell you to shut up if you have nothing better to do with your life other than stand here talking about a driver and his wife.” She spoke, tilting her head slightly. “Well, the words write themselves. You look like a thug.” They smirked.

Another chimed in. “If you loved yourself, you wouldn’t look like a clown. Tell that husband of yours to clean up his act on track, there’s a reason why he’s behind all the great.”

“You need to shut the fuck up. Who do you think you guys are?” Nadia began pointing her fingers at them. Unaware of her surroundings, people were recording the whole thing and Lewis was drawing closer to the scene and saw his wife through it all. Miles even came down from the paddock club to see what was going on.

“You will not speak on my husband as if he’s one of your inferiors. I’m not scared of you so you standing here trying your best to intimidate me won’t work.” She continued, her hands clasped in front of her.

“Your mum-“ The main guy couldn’t even finish whatever bullshit he was about to spew before his shirt was grabbed backwards by a security guard, specifically one of Lewis’.

Pointing to his forehead with her nail on her pointer finger. “You better watch your steps after this. You speak on my mom again, you won’t like what happens next.” She lowered her voice to speak to him specifically. “Take your little friend and get the fuck out of here, you pathetic piece of shit.” Nadia clicked her tongue in annoyance.

The security guard dragged him away but his friend still stood there frozen. She stared at him then gave him a fright by stepping forward, the expression on her face never faltering. Nadia turned her heels to walk back to where she was seated, ignoring the eyes on her. Roscoe sat right by her feet again as she picked up her phone.

“Nadia.” She lifted her head up to see her husband standing in front of her, Miles stood behind him doubling over in laughter. “Hi Lewis.” She smiled, an innocent smile taking over her face.

He couldn’t keep the smile off his face as he leaned in to kiss her forehead. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.” He spoke. Lewis knew that she had a fighting spirit that he never wanted to cross but seeing it being used on other people evoked something else in him.

“Tia will call in a few and talk my ear off but I don’t give a fuck. If anyone thinks they can talk shit about you, I’ll deal with it.” Nadia smiled, showing off her grillz once again. Kissing her once again on the lips, Lewis smiled, incredibly proud of her.

The race was nothing short of exhilarating, nothing could compare to the feeling that she felt watching the screens in the garage. She chose to not have headphones on as she stood next to Anthony, Linda and Nicolas, the camera panning over to her focused gaze on her husband’s car.

Silverstone had an insane atmosphere, the support for Lewis was so strong that she knew it fueled him throughout the race. With five laps left, she knew he had the podium in the bag. Once he crossed the finish line, she screamed and cheered with her in laws, hugs being exchanged with the cheers from Merc employees also filling the atmosphere.

The post race interview after he got out of the car had featured her and his family watching him from the side, all wearing the proud expression on their faces. Nadia’s ‘44’ necklace shining from the little sunshine that Silverstone had to offer. The podium celebration was one for the books, fans surrounding with cheers mainly for the British drivers on the podium.

Even going out of her way to congratulate Lando, her husband followed after with a big grin on his face. Hugging his family first, his touch lingered on Nadia for much longer. “You’re full of sweat, Lew.” She laughed when he wouldn’t let go of her.

All he did was shrug and kiss her forehead. “I gotta go for interviews, see you later?” He spoke, his hand on his hip still quite breathless.

“No problem.” She smiled. “I lo-“ He was interrupted by Miles running to give him a bone crushing hug. Nadia thought she was hearing things but shrug it off watching Lewis celebrate with everyone around him.

imessage!

Rea! <3

saint’s notes 🪩: hope you enjoyed! it also looks a bit odd because it was written in google docs lol

tags: @non-stop-imagines @motheroffae @perfecttrashface @thisismeracing @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @cocobutterqwueen @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @vsfavs @louvrepool @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @yeea-nah @nichmeddar @gg-trini @lifeless-firefly @vellicora @takeoffz-tookoff9876 @serpenttines-library @emjayewrites @royallyprincesslilly @lewisroscoelove @purplelewlew @xoscar03 @kidsol-ar @nothaqks @tremendousstarlighttragedy @ggaslyp1 @henneseyhoe @saturnville

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#saint writes #renaissance: the series #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton fic #f1 x oc #f1 x you #f1 x black!reader #Spotify

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smoooothoperator · 3 days

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What Was I Made For?

01: Crossfire

Charles Leclerc x driver!OC (Dafne Morelli)

childhood enemies, forced proximity, accidental pregnancy, enemies to lovers

a/n: Hi!!! First chapter! Are you guys excited? What do you think that will happen?

Masterlist

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Every way of feedback is very welcomed

Monza. One of the two most important races for Ferrari in the calendar.

And my home race as well.

The weather is still warm at the end of August, the sky is blue and every house has a Ferrari flag hanging from their windows. Every person that lives in Milano or in Italy knows that this weekend is important, that this weekend is their weekend.

“Do you think they will give you a chance to be the priority today?”

Erica, my older sister by only two years. She was completely different from me, with blonde hair and skin easily tanned. She always came to my races, being the one that takes care of my flights and to rent cars to have during the weekend. Not like Soleil, who was actually a little version of me and my nutritionist.

“I mean, I'm ahead of Leclerc. They should” I said, shrugging my shoulders as I ate my breakfast. “The only person in front of me is Max, I don't think they want to risk and fuck up things right if front of all the Tifosi. They are idiots, but not that much to make me and Charles switch positions just because I'm the second driver”

Erica looked at me with a smile, nodding as she tied the strap of her dress in the back of her neck. Every time she came to the races she made sure to be dressed with the colors of the team, always wearing red since I was contracted by Ferrari and then white, red and black when I was in Haas. Today, for my homerace, she was wearing a nice cherry red dress from Meshki, a brand I made collabs with some months ago.

“If they were smart they would do a good job and instead of letting Charles fight, they would order him to defend you from Lando” Soleil pointed, helping Erica to tie the dress. “Is not the first time they order you do that for him, and for once that you are in front of him they should give you a chance”

“I just want to end on the podium, that is the goal today” I sighed. “What Charles does is all his business”

“At least you should talk about the strategy…” Soleil sighed. “Only to make things clear. This is your home race, he should respect that”

“Hah! Sure” I laughed. “It was my home race last year too and he didn’t think twice to overtake me in the last lap even if his engineer was screaming in his ears to not do that. That’s even more cruel that overtaking me in the middle of the race”

“But last year you two didn't have a warning like this year” Erica sighed.

“Whatever, he’ll be an asshole anyway”

My sisters looked at each other and rolled their eyes, probably tired of the rivalry between Charles and I. But they don’t understand, they don’t understand how it feels to always be challenged by him since the first time he saw me. It was like he was a bully and I was his victim.

“You two are twenty six, when will be the day you two fix things?” Erica asked.

“When one of us dies” I stated, making both of my sisters groan.

“Drama queen” Soleil sighed.

“Yes I am”

Getting out of the hotel was something that took us half an hour, being stopped by fans that waited for the drivers to start their way to the track. They called my name and the nickname they gave me when I got famous.

“Princepessa”

The good thing about being half Italian was that they didn't care if my other half was British. They cared about my Italian roots, feeling proud that someone from their country is driving for Ferrari. A Tifosi driving for the Tifosi.

“Today will be your day” a fan said. “You'll win this race”

I smiled at them, letting them put the friendship bracelets on my wrists and taking pictures with them, somehow wanting to believe all the words they said.

Some meters in front of me was Charles, signing caps and shirts on his way to the car. I recognized Andrea (his personal trainer), Joris (his photographer) and then a girl, probably his new fling. They were waiting for him already inside of the car, the three of them looking down at their phones.

“Is that his new girl?” I whispered to Erica, looking at the car Charles was walking to.

“I think so, she was in the hospitality yesterday” Erica answered, nodding. “I would say she's nice, but the only things she did was make tons of Tik Tok videos and pictures for her Instagram”

“Are we gossiping about his new girl?” Soleil smiled, stepping between us. “She's not nice. She thought I was one of the restaurant crew and just ordered me to bring her a coffee! And her manners? Uhg, non existent”

“His taste in women is really suspicious” I joked, looking at that girl, who actually looked like me.

The three of us walked towards the car that was waiting for us, walking in front of Charles' car and looking at the girl that was sitting in the front seat on the passenger seat. She was looking at her phone, recording a Tik Tok probably, while Joris and Andrea tried to not make obvious eye rolls.

“Yeah, neither his friends like her” Erica pointed.

I sighed, walking to the driver seat of my rented car and got it, turning on the engine while my sisters got in the car. People noticed us and started to wave at me, all of them holding the shirts and and even flags and waving them as I drove next to them.

“They want you to win” Soleil said excitedly, watching the Tifosi wave their hands.

“They want Ferrari to win” I corrected. “They don't care of it's me or Charles”

I heard them sigh and I just shrugged my shoulders, driving towards the track while the police guided us, somehow making sure neither Charles or myself suffered an accident before arriving.

If we have an accident during the race it’s no longer their problem.

After I parked the car, I saw Charles parking right next to mine, opening the door and looking at me. He sighed, rolling his eyes when I waved at him and immediately placed his hand on the back of the girl that was with him in this race.

I walked with my sisters, just a little faster to enter the paddock first, and when I looked at his girl I nearly laughed right on his face.

She was dressed with a top that only covered her front side and a skirt that had an opening on the side and let you see all her leg.

“I think you went to the wrong place” I smiled at that girl. “Coachella was on April and Tomorrowland was on July”

“It's fashion” she frowned, her voice sounding too high. “You wouldn't understand”

“I do understand. At least I went to the Met Gala” I smiled, walking away and pressing my Paddock Pass on the ID scanner.

I could feel Charles' eyes on my back, probably thinking about ways of how to take me off of the track in a few hours, or how to poison my lunch. He would do anything to make sure I won't perform better than him.

Cameras and reporters followed me, making my sisters walk some feet behind me, taking pictures of me and asking things related to the race, which I always replied with the same answer.

“I'll do everything I can to win. It's an important race for me and for the team”

When they were satisfied with my answer and after they had enough pictures of me, they walked away to focus on other drivers that were around the paddock too.

As soon as the red building was close enough, the media managers and content creators of the team started to fly around me and soon after Charles, asking questions and doing the trends that were famous on social media.

Let's start the act.

The smile on my face was half real, half fake. Having Charles near while we were inside of the hospitality meant that the rivalry we had since kids had to be left outside the building, making us act friendly and fake just to make the team and sponsors happy.

“Hey Daf!”

He knows I hate that nickname. He knows that every time he called me like that I ended up screaming at him, telling him that he's not allowed to call me that way, only one person and he is dead.

“Charlie!” I smiled, fakely, watching how he fought to not roll his eyes or look daggers at me. “Those jeans again? How many of them do you have?”

In moments like this I enjoyed teasing him, giving him nicknames he hated and making sure he couldn't fight me.

“This jeans, dear Dafne, are my lucky jeans” he said, smiling.

“Mhm, I wonder when are you going to burn them” I said. “But seems that your girl has the same taste as you, now makes sense”

I saw him clench his jaw and fists, taking deep breaths and looking at him with his eyes furrowed. He knows he can't do anything, so he simply smiles and nods, walking away to his room followed by that girl.

“What was her name?” I asked Soleil. “She has face of Karen”

“I think it's actually Karen” she laughed. “I wonder where he met her”

“I'm sure it was on Raya” I chuckled. “Maybe a summer fling that stayed for too long and he doesn't even know how to say no to her”

“I don't know who I should feel sorry for” Soleil sighed. “Him because she clearly is with him for the money, or her because she will probably be replaced soon”

I shrugged my shoulders and looked at the room with his number on the door, wondering what they would be doing. Ignoring each other? Her looking at the phone and taking pictures while Charles got changed? Probably that, or she would even be using him to take pictures of her so she could post them on Instagram, hinting that she's with him.

“Whatever, they are adults” I sighed, getting up.

When I opened the door of my room and sighed, hearing how they talked, or most likely argued.

“What is her fucking problem? Why did she talk like that to me?” that girl exclaimed. “How dare she?”

“Come on, it wasn't that bad, Melanie…”

“Are you going to defend her or me?” her voice was too high, piercing into my ears. “Charles!”

“What! Fuck off, Melanie! You knew where you were coming, don't cry now. I told you what clothes you had to pack and, as always, you did whatever you wanted” he groaned, and I could hear how he closed the door of his closet.

“God, sometimes you are so stupid”

“Whatever”

I smiled, changing my clothes to my racing suit and folding my clothes, stretching my back and arms before walking out of the room, just at the same time as Charles. His jaw was clenched and I could see the vein of his temple a little swollen, something that always happened whenever he was angry or stressed, and probably now would be both reasons.

“Next time you bring a girl, make sure she knows where she's coming” I whispered.

“What about you won't open your mouth next time I bring a girl?” he frowned. “You are giving me a headache”

“Oh really? That's nice!” I smiled, winking at him and walking away. “You should have a painkiller, anyway”

“What I should have is a good race without you in front of me” he groaned.

“Too bad it won't be possible” I said. “Get used to it, I plan of being in front of you as much as I can”

That smile.

God, I hated that smile.

I hated that she always knew what to say and how.

“We'll see soon” I frowned.

She rolled her eyes and walked away, making me follow her with my eyes. Melanie walked out of the room and stood next to me, never letting go of her phone.

“Should I go to the balcony? I think there are nice views of the… How do you call it?” she said, making me take a deep breath and fake a smile.

“Paddock” I said.

“Oh yeah! That” she smiled.

“Look” I sighed. “I have things to do, I'm not your photographer”

Before she could say something I already was walking away towards the restaurant, sitting on a table and looking at my phone. Just a small lunch before doing interviews and then getting ready for the race, an ice bath and some stretch outs.

“Where did you leave that girl?”

I turned around and sighed when I recognized Erica's voice. She sat next to me and placed the cup of coffee in front of me.

Dafne's older sister always tried to be out of our arguments. When we were kids, she always avoided our fights and stood away with my brother and Jules, ignoring us. I always believed that Jules and her would end up together, and somehow maybe they were for some time.

Maybe that's why she always tried to befriend me too, to make me feel that Jules was here too, and for her to have someone that reminds her of Jules.

“Last time I saw her she was asking me to take pictures of her” I sighed, grabbing the cup and drinking it slowly. “She was getting annoying”

“And why did you bring her, then?” she sighed. “I thought you were smarter”

“Did Dafne send you so she could just use this against me later?” I said looking at her, watching how she shook her head and smiled weakly.

“I came here because I care for you, Charles. I don't care if my sister and you can't stand each other” she said, resting her back on the chair and crossing her arms in front of her chest. My eyes went to the small tattoo of her wrist, one of many she has. The little 17 was facing me.

“A guy has his needs” I sighed. “And she was there on vacations”

“Sure, but you know what she has been doing while you were out of the hospitality?” she sighed, but I already knew the answer. “She thinks she's your girlfriend, Charles, only because you let her be in your bed”

“And what if she is?” I frowned, and somehow that tattoo got darker than it already was.

Jules would be disappointed, right?

“Look, I just…” I sighed, but immediately shook my head. “You wouldn't understand”

Of course she wouldn't. Because I don't understand it either.

“Then explain it to me, hm? I might be Dafne's sister, but I'm your friend too” she said.

“Not now, okay?” I sighed. “I have things to do, a race to make”

“Alright” she sighed. “Good luck today, Charlie. Just… don't kill my sister”

She stood up and walked away, not after she messed my hair softly.

Jules and her would have made a really beautiful couple.

I took a deep breath and sighed, getting up and walking to my room again. I looked inside Dafne's room and frowned when I saw a fruit basket on her table, finding a big amount of peaches on it.

“Fuck” I sighed, walking in and grabbing that fruit.

I might hate her, but I don't wish her death.

“What are you doing?”

I tensed and took a deep breath, turning around and finding Dafne leaning on the door frame, watching me with the peaches in my hands.

“Nothing” I said.

“Putting a fruit you know I'm allergic to in a basket?” she frowned. “I thought you were stupid, but this? This is crossing the line”

“No! Hey!” I frowned. Did she really think I put them on purpose? “I just grabbed them because I know you are allergic to the peel of the peach, asshole. You are welcome”

Before she could say anything I walked out of her room and went to mine, locking the door and groaning.

The Italian anthem echoed through the stands of Monza, reverberating in my chest as I stood in front of the grid. My heart pounded in time with the fervent claps and chants of the Tifosi, their energy a palpable force lifting me higher. The sea of red around the circuit was a sight to behold, with their flags waving, faces painted, the roar of their passion almost louder than the melody of the anthem.

This was my home, my people, and today, I was going to give them a race to remember.

After the final notes finished, I walked back to my car, in the first line of the grid, next to the navy blue Red Bull. No one was in front of me, the only car to beat was the Red Bull. I looked to the car behind it, the other red one of the grid, Charles’ car. I felt his eyes on me, and the only thing I did was put on my helmet and remember that today was my day, not his.

This is my race.

The formation lap felt like an eternity, each second stretching as I warmed up the tires, feeling the grip, the balance of the car. As we lined up on the grid once more, the tension was almost unbearable.

Five lights.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One.

Lights out.

I launched off the line, my tires gripping perfectly as I sped towards the first chicane. Max had a strong start, but I was right on his tail, the slipstream pulling me closer. Behind me, I could feel Charles trying to find an opening, but I shut the door firmly at every opportunity.

Lap after lap, I pushed harder, feeling the car’s every response. I stayed within striking distance of Max, waiting for my chance. And then, halfway through the race, it came. Max made a slight error going into the Parabolica, his line not as clean as usual. It was all the invitation I needed.

I dived down the inside, my heart in my throat, and for a moment, we were side by side. But I had the better exit, my car flying past him down the main straight as the tifosi erupted in a deafening cheer. The lead was mine.

Now it was a matter of maintaining it. Every lap felt like a battle, not just with the track but with my own nerves. I could feel Charles gaining behind me, his pace relentless. But I focused forward, hitting every apex, every braking zone perfectly. The laps ticked down, and with each one, my confidence grew.

The final lap was a blur. I could feel the tears in my eyes, barely letting me see the track, but I kept driving, pushing and turning the wheel until I crossed the finish line.

“Dafne Morelli, you are a race winner!”

I did it. I finally did it.

As I parked the car in the pit lane and got out of the car, I heard the roar of the crowd, all of them waving the Italian flag over their heads. I saw my team, all dressed in red and jumping, cham¡nting my name. I felt pats on my back and helmet, some drivers coming to congratulate me.

But I felt that gaze too, the one that always burned me alive whenever I won him.

And it felt so satisfying knowing that I won against Charles Leclerc.

taglist

@racinggirl @elisysd @alltoomaples @ssprayberrythings @rach3164 @yvonne-dump @deliciousfestsalad @janeh22 @hc-dutch @ninifee1802 @kakorrhaphiphobia @ssararuffoni @itsjustkhaos @scaramou @tapedeck-hearts @apollosfavkiddo @sltwins

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magicshopaholic · 12 hours

Text

Words Unsaid (Jungkook x OC)

Summary: Jungkook has something he wants to ask you, but the timing just never seems to sit right.

Pairing: Jungkook x OC

Genre: Fluff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 7.3 K

Warnings: none

A/N: This took longer than expected to post (but a surprisingly short amount of time to write). Savour it, for the angst will be back in full force next fic :D Takes place a couple of weeks after Unfinished Business and can be read standalone.

Tagging: @bbl32 @ggukkieland @bangtannoonalvg @pb-n-juju @juciu @jeoncookie-bts @quarter-life-crisis2 @dreaming-with-happiness @meirkive @faearchives @margopinkerton @sumzysworld @purpleseoul7 @kflixnet (italics cannot be tagged. If you want to be added to the taglist, drop a comment or ask)

Listen to: "thinking out loud" by ed sheeran

jungkook masterlist | main masterlist

The sun is near setting when lunch comes to a natural end. Namjoon places his credit card on the bill out of habit and, somewhat conscious that it’s not just the two of them here, Jungkook drops his on top of it.

“All good, kid.” Namjoon good-naturedly flicks Jungkook’s credit card off the bill just before the waiter picks it up.

Feeling Lia’s eyes on him, vaguely amused, Jungkook feels his ears heat up and quickly pockets his credit card. “What’s your plan for the rest of the day?” he asks, desperate to change the topic.

“Not much.” He shrugs. “Probably pick up some stuff at this store we saw earlier today, then maybe a walk down the Han if it gets cooler…” He turns slightly as Kaya returns to her seat, fluffing out her hair a bit.

“Seoul has never been this warm, has it?” she remarks. “I’m glad I cut my hair before I came here.”

“It should rain soon,” answers Lia, in her accented English. While her grasp on the language hadn’t necessarily been a surprise to Jungkook, the way it sounded - and how much he liked it - definitely was. She hadn’t ever spoken much English around him, for there was never much of a need, but when Kaya visited and they’d finally met, Jungkook discovered he was obsessed with her English accent. It made her sound older, unattainable and - ironically – more Korean.

“Maybe it will,” says Namjoon, nodding and looking out the glass windows at the sunlight.

“Maybe it will while you’re walking down the Han river,” points out Jungkook.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Oh, that reminds me - can we make a detour home before we head to the market?” Kaya asks him. “I need to pick up my power bank. My phone’s almost dead.”

Namjoon nods. “Sure. You guys need a ride?” he asks Jungkook and Lia.

“Oh -” They exchange a look, for they were dropped by a company car after Jungkook finished filming a promo. “Actually, yeah,” says Lia, nodding. “We also need to stop by, uh, Jungkook’s house for a minute. You’ll want to change, I guess?”

Jungkook nods mutely, his neck getting hot again. He avoids Namjoon’s eyes; the older member’s subtle questioning a couple of days ago, about how serious is this getting, had been one thing. That, coupled with the abrupt way he and Lia had stopped talking when Jungkook had returned from the men’s room earlier during lunch, made him uneasily conscious that something was still unsaid.

They head out of the restaurant, waiting until Namjoon’s car is brought out by the valet before ducking inside quickly, Kaya in the driver’s seat and Namjoon in the passenger seat next to her. Jungkook notices a few phones out in the open and pointed towards them as they drive away.

“See you tomorrow!” Lia waves at them as they drive away from the porch of Jungkook’s building in Hannam-dong, where his new penthouse sits tucked into the top floor. As the car disappears around a corner, both of them turn around and head inside together.

In the lift, Jungkook watches the numbers increase, his hands in his pockets and his bottom lip between his teeth. The words are there, somewhere, in moments at the tip of his tongue and in others, so far away that they may as well be someone else’s.

“Hey.”

He’s jerked out of his reverie. “Yeah.”

Lia is looking at him, frowning slightly. “Everything okay? You’ve barely said two words since we left.”

“I’m fine,” he answers as the lift stops and they step out, the doors opening right in front of his apartment. “I just, uh…” He pats his pockets and pauses. “... forgot my keys. I think. Shit.”

“Don’t worry about it,” she mutters easily, reaching into her small sling bag for her own keyring and selecting the shiniest one. “This is when it helps to have a spare set with someone else,” she points out.

Jungkook nods sheepishly and steps aside so she can unlock the door to his home. “Actually, Lia…” He takes a deep breath as Namjoon’s face swims to the forefront of his mind, the familiar raised eyebrow and chin tilted upward that, irritatingly knowing but unwilling to give him the answer. No, he would want Jungkook to come up with the answer himself.

He clears his throat as Lia pauses. “Yeah?”

“Um, I was wondering -” He shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Just say it. Say it. He makes the mistake of glancing at her again, her raised eyebrows and - to his slight anxiety - hopeful expression.

Shit.

“Would you, um… do you think you would you like to…”

Come on now, Jungkook, Namjoon would say sternly. Say it already.

“... try a beef bulgogi tonight? I know we usually do pizza on Sunday nights but I saw this recipe online and I really wanted to try it. Plus, we won’t even have to shop - we have that fillet in the freezer so part of the work is really already done, if you think about it…”

He’s rambling, he knows, but it’s only to try and distract himself from the annoyance at himself as well as the brief but clear disappointment in her expression. Her shoulders fall slightly and she bites her lip, turning back to the door and pushing it open halfway.

“Beef bulgogi sounds great,” she says finally, looking up at him after a moment’s hesitation, and giving him a small smile. “Thanks.”

He follows her inside, still deflated. Lia goes straight to the fridge for a bottle of cold water while he heads into his room, shedding his t-shirt on the way. Turning on the bathroom light, he grabs his facewash from the wall-mounted shelf, half-stocked with haircare products, face scrubs, masks, serums and a tub of scrunchies and claw clips. A Dior perfume he’d gifted her earlier this year was also there next to his own Calvin Klein cologne.

Realising he’s been staring at her belongings for over a minute with emulsified facewash on his face, he quickly scrubs it off and hurries out, passing by her chest of drawers next to the closets.

Jungkook wishes he wasn’t such a coward. He wishes he had the exact right words and that his mouth moved on its own to deliver the message to her. She’d helped him set up the apartment when he’d moved in last month; most of her belongings are here, she returns here more often than not after work, half the groceries in the pantry are stocked by her. She has a set of keys, she uses his extra parking space - but none of it matters as long as it’s still Jungkook’s house.

In the kitchen, Lia is standing by the counter with a bowl of watermelon in front of her, scrolling on her phone. She looks up when he enters.

“I cut the other half that was in the fridge,” she informs him. “Rest of it is inside.”

He swallows. “Thanks.”

Jungkook doesn’t know what he would do without her. The house feels far too big and empty when she isn’t around and he wishes there were some way for her to get that message without him having to spell it out.

But if you do spell it out, comes Namjoon’s voice again, what’s the worst that could happen.

She could say no and then I could die, he thinks, shuddering.

He stands on the opposite side of the counter and leans over to examine the pink fruit. Lia raises an eyebrow and pops a piece into his mouth.

“Wow. Sweet,” he comments, voice slightly muffled.

She half-chuckles and nods, going back to her phone and taking a piece as well.

Say it. But is this really the moment? Does there need to be a moment? What would that moment even look like? What would she want that moment to -

“Kook,” says Lia, slowly placing her phone down. “I was thinking… I’ve been coming over here after work the last few days. And I’ll probably be here tomorrow as well, so…” She bites her lip.

“Yes,” whispers Jungkook breathlessly. If Lia were to ask the question - nothing like it. No chance of rejection, no scope for awkwardness. Of course, if any of the guys got wind of the fact that she had been the one to ask, they wouldn’t let him live it down, especially Jimin. Suddenly, he half-hopes she isn’t asking.

“Do you think it would be weird if, you know…”

Holy shit. Screw Jimin and his opinions. Despite a crappy first date a year ago, if this is really how far they’ve come since then, he should consider himself the luckiest man in the world. Unexpectedly, Jungkook’s heart begins to race.

“… if I went home on Monday evening? It’s been a while and I have an important meeting on Tuesday and all my blazers are at home so in a way, I have to…”

Jungkook nods mutely, barely hearing her, for his heart is hammering so loudly he can hear it in his teeth. It occurs to him that Lia might have been anticipating the same question and subsequently felt the same disappointment, and it only serves to make him feel worse.

“… take my car, too. Jungkook?”

He looks up warily, irrationally worried his shame might be written on his forehead for her to see, possibly triggering her to pull the plug on this entire thing, this whole relationship, to save herself the embarrassment of dating a silly pop star who can’t string six words together -

“Hm?”

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I’m fine,” he chokes. “Thanks for the, uh, the fruit.”

Lia raises her eyebrows, but there’s a flash of knowing in her eyes. Not wanting to decipher it, for there’s no telling where his mind will take him, he shakes his head slightly and leans forward, kissing her on the cheek.

It doesn’t end there. Later that evening, Jungkook is still reeling from his horrendous inability to pluck up the courage to ask his girlfriend a simple question. The general mood between them seems to have gone back to normal, somewhat, but it nags at the corner of his mind.

They are heading to the executive floor gym in his building, accessible only to the handful of residents on the top floor, when another opportunity seemingly presents itself.

It’s a glorious workout in one of the best gyms in the country; in fact, Jungkook is rather upfront about it being one of the main reasons he chose to buy a property in this particular building in Hannam-dong. Towards the end of a particularly difficult set of reps on the bench press station, Jungkook looks up to see a face, upside down and hovering above him.

“Shit!” he gasps, gripping the barbell tightly so it doesn’t fall on him.

Eunwoo grins. “What’s up? Wasn’t expecting to see you here today.”

“I could’ve died,” points out Jungkook, sitting up and giving him a friendly dap. “No, Lia wanted to work out, too, and it’s been a, uh… somewhat stressful day.”

“Yeah?” Eunwoo, also sweating and glowing, looks around the gym with his hands on his hips. “Lia is here? Oh, there she is…” He nods at the treadmills where she’s jogging fast, AirPods in and the rest of the world shut out.

They chat for a bit about nothing in particular, catching their breath. Somewhere during the conversation, while they’re at the water station and filling up tiny glasses with fruit-infused ice water, Jungkook wonders if the time has truly come to pick another’s brain. Eunwoo is a good friend and they’ve known each other a while, but it would be the first time he’s actively confided in someone else about his love life. From his experience, it could go either way.

While he’s pondering this, Eunwoo nods and flashes a smile at something over his shoulder.

“Hey, guys.” Lia walks over and pours herself a glass. Her skin pale and glowing, her cheeks flushed lusciously. The ends of her high ponytail stick to her damp collarbones and Jungkook bites his lip without thinking, ridiculously attracted to her at the moment.

“Noona, do you agree with JK’s plan of building a home gym?” Eunwoo asks, seamlessly continuing their discussion. “It’s going to be so much maintenance of equipment,” he tells him, shaking his head.

“Really?” Lia turns to Jungkook, frowning. “When did that happen? I thought you were happy with this gym.”

“I am - and I’m not planning on building a home gym,” he clarifies, suddenly anxious with both sets of eyes on him. “I was just discussing the merits of possibly having one.”

“Such as?”

“Well… privacy, for one. I know the building has good security but they're also fairly lax with allowances,” he points out, not wanting to specify the incident last week that had prompted this train of thought, when he was half-certain he’d spotted someone pointing their phone at him and Lia.

“Allowances? You mean guests?” Eunwoo wrinkles his nose. “They don’t allow guests in here.”

“Yes, they do.”

“No, they don’t. They don’t allow anybody but residents in the gym.”

There’s a brief but painful pause following his words.

“They do, actually,” says Lia.

“I don’t think so.”

“Yes, they do,” adds Jungkook tightly, glaring at Eunwoo and moving his eyes deliberately in Lia’s direction, hoping to God he’ll drop it.

Eunwoo frowns slowly, apparently working this out. “What?” he mutters, shaking his head at Jungkook. “No, I’m just saying… wait, how are you so sure?”

“Because I’m technically a guest,” says Lia lightly.

“You are?” Eunwoo raises his eyebrows. “But I thought you were - oh.” To Jungkook’s horror, a blush creeps up his friend’s face. Lia goes still next to him and it takes every ounce of Jungkook’s strength to not turn in her direction.

For the next few seconds or so, the three of them stand there in silence, scarcely making a movement.

“Excuse me? May I?”

“Yes! Of course, of course -” Jungkook immediately blurts out while Eunwoo practically trips over himself to take a step back and make way for another patron.

“I’m going to stretch and cool down for a bit,” says Lia, touching Jungkook’s shoulder. “How far along are you?”

“Oh, I still have a bit to finish,” he answers, a bit apologetically. “I was going to box for a bit before ending with cardio.”

“That’s fine, I'll just head back h- uh, to your place and shower… if that’s okay?”

Not least because she hasn’t needed to ask such a question in months, Jungkook nods wordlessly. She gives him a small smile and moves away, and Jungkook watches her leave before turning back around to see Eunwoo giving him a look.

“Shut up,” he mutters.

Eunwoo chuckles as they head over to the boxing bag. “Man, I am so sorry about that. I really thought you’d asked her to move in with you - I thought part of the reason you bought a new house was because you wanted her to move in. You were asking about bathrooms with his-and-her sinks, man. What happened?”

“Okay, first of all, I only asked if you’ve ever seen one in real life - not that I wanted one,” he corrects immediately, strapping on his gloves while Eunwoo gets behind the bag, ready to hold it.

“And the other thing?”

“I’m working on it,” mutters Jungkook, going into stance and holding his hands up. “I just want to do it right. Make sure it’s a good time, that I’m not hurrying anything - that kind of thing.”

Eunwoo hums and nods. “Well, if it helps, she didn’t seem freaked out. If anything, she looked a little annoyed.”

Jungkook freezes. “She did? She looked annoyed - wait, really? Are you serious?”

His eyes widen. “Wh- no. Not - not annoyed like that. Not like a pissed off annoyed, more like a… like a chill annoyed.” When Jungkook says nothing, he shakes his head. “You know what? Don’t worry about it. Maybe it is too soon. Or maybe it isn’t,” he amends quickly. “What do I know? You know my last three relationships lasted, like, four months each - so I’m probably not the best person to be giving you any kind of advice.”

“That’s the most airtight thing you’ve said so far,” mutters Jungkook. “Alright, I’m coming in.” Waiting a moment for Eunwoo to grip the bag, he cocks his elbow back and punches it.

—

Despite his deadly faux pas, Eunwoo had inadvertently provided Jungkook with a rather helpful bit of direction. Perhaps it is time for him to lean on a friend for advice, but Eunwoo was also right that he is not one of them, not with his flighty flings and lack of depth in them. The advice matters and so does the friend, prompting Jungkook to ask himself: which of his friends is the expert on the opposite of short-term flings?

“Namjoon hyung!”

Namjoon stops in his tracks at the sound of his name and turns, waiting for Jungkook to catch up with him.

“Oh, thanks,” says Jungkook, taking a cigarette from the pack Namjoon offers him and leaning forward so he can light it. “Thanks for getting us the evening off, by the way.”

“Kaya is leaving this weekend,” is all Namjoon says in response, shrugging.

“Right.” Jungkook nods, taking a drag and blowing it out, wondering briefly if he should care that they might be seen smoking right outside the Hybe building. “Won’t this make you a couple minutes late, though? If you want to make the best of the next few days?”

Namjoon chuckles. “I don’t want to smoke inside the house.”

“Uh-huh. Speaking of which…” He exhales, suddenly nervous. “I was hoping for some advice.” He clears his throat. “Regarding… relationships.”

Namjoons raises his eyebrows but says nothing else. “M-hm.”

“I have reason to believe,” he begins slowly, “that Lia might want me to ask her to move in with me.”

“Okay.”

Jungkook pauses, searching his leader’s face for a hint. Finding none, he continues. “Well… I want to ask her. But I also don’t want her to feel like I’m asking her just because she wants me to ask her. And I also don’t want to mess it up.”

“How would you mess it up?”

“I don’t know… maybe I’m completely off track and she doesn’t want to move in with me at all? Maybe she thinks it’s too soon?”

Namjoon nods, hearing him out. Then he shakes his head. “Well, personally, I don’t think that’s the case.”

“What isn’t? You think she wants to move in?” Jungkook’s momentarily relief is interrupted by a horrifying thought. “Oh, my God - did she say something to you? Yesterday, at brunch, when I went to the men’s room?”

“Jungkook, you were gone for two minutes.”

He’s about to argue but stops himself. He knows Lia and she is hardly the type to secretly vent her feelings to his friends behind his back, hoping it will get back to him. No, she’s more straightforward than that.

Somewhat satisfied, he takes a different turn. “Okay, let’s get down to it, then. How did you ask Kaya to move in?”

“Well…” Namjoon frowns thoughtfully. “Actually, I didn’t.”

“You… what?” Jungkook squints. “Wait, so… you didn’t ask? You both just knew, telepathically, when to start living together?” he asks incredulously, thinking privately that it could just be believable.

“No,” says Namjoon patiently, chuckling again and flicking some ash off his cigarette. “I didn’t ask because I didn’t have to. Where else is she supposed to live when she comes to Seoul? Where am I supposed to live when I go to see her?”

“Yeah… okay, but… well, would you say you live together?” he presses. “Or do you just, like, crash at each other’s place when you visit?”

“Well, we definitely don’t crash at each other’s place,” he mutters. “Maybe we did right in the beginning? I guess I’d say we live apart, but it’s only because we have to. I don’t know - when she came to Seoul for work last year while I was in service, she stayed at Hannam even though her aunt lives in the city, too.” He shrugs. “If that helps.”

“Huh.” Jungkook considers this. “So, like, do you guys ‘go home’ or do you go back to ‘your place’?”

“Home,” he answers casually, not skipping a beat. “Even her apartment is home. ‘Home’ is what you make it, to a large extent. It’s a place of comfort - an apartment is only part of that,” he says wisely. “I feel more at home in her studio apartment in London with her than at Hannam by myself. The people make the home - and that’s for you to decide.”

Jungkook stares, feeling his cigarette burn away in his hand. “That’s really not the kind of thing I’m looking for, hyung,” he states, before dropping his face in his hand.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and stubs his cigarette on the tray atop the trash can next to him. “Don’t overthink it,” he says, clapping him on the shoulder. “Go about it logically: she’s been your girlfriend for six or seven months now, you bought a new place which is significantly bigger than your old one and she’s in her thirties, meaning she’s most likely thinking long-term.”

Jungkook gazes at Namjoon’s raised eyebrows, quite certain he’s meant to pick up some meaning out of this. “So…”

“So… if you’re worried she might say no…”

“Chances are… she probably won’t?”

Namjoon grins and nods. “Exactly. Just be yourself, be genuine, be honest - and remember you’re both together for a reason. And I think - I think - she has a thing for you, too,” he adds seriously.

“One can only hope,” he mutters, albeit slightly mollified. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

Namjoon observes him - for too long. For a moment, it seems as though he’s about to say something that makes Jungkook’s stomach jolt unpleasantly, but at the last second, he shakes his head.

“Impossible to mess it up. Honestly,” he says reassuringly, and Jungkook almost believes him. “It’s a part of the journey and if you think she’s expecting it, just take the plunge. Don’t add unnecessary pressure by trying to make it perfect.”

While the last bit simply isn’t in Jungkook’s DNA, he nods anyway.

—

“Damn it.”

Lia doesn’t look up from the email she’s writing, despite Dal’s repeated exclamations from the kitchen. Finally, he sticks his head out around the door.

“Did you know the faucet is leaking?”

“Yes,” she mutters, still not looking away from her screen.

“And did you know it’s dripping out of the sink zone and onto the floor?”

“Yeah?”

“And did you know it’s fucking disgusting?”

Lia sighs and finally turns her head to glance at him. “Yes, I know. I mopped it up this morning.”

Dal steps out, frowning. “So this much water leaked in the last six hours?” When Lia nods, he sighs heavily and trudges into the living room, falling onto the sofa. “I suppose we can text the landlord but I don’t know what good that will do.”

“Probably as much as it did when we told him about the seepage in the bathroom ceiling.”

“Yeah. Didn’t realise the kind of shoulder strength you need to baste upwards.” A moment later, he chuckles. “Helped that there were three of us there, though. Jungkook was really looking for any excuse to be around you back then, wasn’t he?”

Without meaning to, Lia feels a smile creep up her face at the memory. “It was cute,” she says, slightly defensive. “And we really needed the extra hands, especially to clean up.”

“Oh, sure.” There’s a comfortable silence, the only sound being the clicking of Lia’s keyboard. “Speaking of,” he speaks, and his tone is slightly different, “I’m surprised to see you here.”

Lia doesn’t look up, but she’s certain she knows where he’s going with this. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. You haven’t been around much.”

“You think so?”

“M-hm. In fact, I was starting to wonder if you’d moved out or something and I missed the memo.”

“You were still paying only half the rent, though, weren’t you?”

“Lia.”

“‘Sup.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees a movement and ducks out of habit.

“Lee-lee,” he says again, and she finally meets his gaze.

“I know what you’re getting at, and no,” she says dryly, “no updates on that front. I’m still your roommate for the foreseeable future.”

Dal raises his eyebrows. “Okay.”

Lia turns back to her laptop but doesn’t resume her typing. “What?”

“What what?”

“You’re still looking at me.”

“No. I’m just looking in your general direction.”

She gives him a look. “Just say it.”

“I thought you were moving in with Jungkook.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because he told me last time he came over that he wanted you to move in with him.”

Lia scoffs. “No way did he say that. Liar.”

“Fine, he didn’t use those exact words,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “But he just happened to mention that his new place is bigger, that the gym is fantastic, that it has a really good running trail or something…”

“Maybe he was just making conversation?”

“... and how much closer it is to the Hybe office.”

He works at Hybe, too, technically. The words are on the tip of her tongue, but she can’t deflect anymore; Dal will see right through it. She sighs and puts her laptop away.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks steadily. “We aren’t living together. It’s not the end of the world.”

“I’m not saying it is, at all.” He holds up his hands. “Do you want to, though?”

Lia is silent for a moment. “He needs to ask first. But… yeah, I guess. Could be fun. We’ll save on a lot of fuel.”

“Ooh, stop, I’m swooning.”

She flashes him an embarrassed sort of smile. “You know what I mean. We basically do live together already - but this is a big deal for Jungkook. He’s never done the long-term relationship, adult couple milestone thing before. The last thing I want to do is scare him off.”

Dal nods thoughtfully. “Well, hopefully it’ll go better than your last adult couple milestone thing.”

She snorts, covering her face. “Hey, to be fair, I did move in with him,” she points out. “Kind of.”

“You lasted less than a month before you were back here.”

“Yeah. God, he was such a manchild. Can’t believe I was ever attracted to him.”

“I told you he had an asshat kind of face. But you didn’t listen. Didn’t he have a shrine to his ex-girlfriend in the bathroom or something?”

“It was a couple of bottles of her shampoo and lotion, not a shrine,” she corrects him, “but, sort of. He was so blown away when I asked him to get rid of it - like, sue me, I don’t want to live with my boyfriend and sentimental haircare products belonging to his ex. It just goes to show, you never know enough about your partner until you actually share a living space together.”

“You think there’s more to Jungkook? Because I like him for you, honestly. But he seems to be a more…” Dal grimaces, trying to find the word, “... what you see is what you get… kind of person.”

“That’s a good thing,” she remarks. “Means there’s no lying, no games. None of that shit.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Well, it’s good you know what you want. How long are we planning to wait for him to pop the question?”

“We are not waiting for anything. I, on the other hand…”

It’s a good question, unfortunately, one that Lia has deliberately tried not to think about because there’s simply no correct answer.

“... will take things as they come.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

She narrows her eyes at her oldest friend, recognising both teasing masking genuine concern. “I’m not going to pressure Jungkook. And I’m not going to get my hopes up either,” she states, trying to ignore the quiet tugging at her heart and standing up, stretching.

“Hey, just say the word and I will -“ Dal makes a flailing kind of gesture and flexes his triceps, “- whip him into shape.”

“Oh, really? Not only will it probably be evenly matched, but who’s going to help you both carry cartons of beer into each other’s houses if you’re both maimed?” She taps her temple sarcastically.

“Well, you’ll be a resident in one of our houses at any given time so I guess we’ll be looking at you.” Dal shrugs in satisfaction as Lia chuckles and starts heading inside her bedroom, considering a shower before bed.

“Oi, Lia.”

Lia turns in her doorway, recognising the subtle change in tone once again. It wasn’t surprising that Dal and Jungkook got along easily enough; despite her boyfriend’s initial reservations, most of which were based on Dal’s gender and inopportune timing, he had eventually moved past it to begin actually enjoying his company. Oh, he would never admit it, but Lia had woken up more than once in her own bed, alone, while hearing two male voices laughing in the living room with the television on.

As for Dal, the only thing he had needed to say was “Lee-lee, for once, you’ve found a good boy.”

Therefore, while Lia prefers to handle her relationships herself, she recognises the value of her oldest friend’s opinion.

“I just want to let you know,” he begins seriously, and she feels the muscles in her face go slack. He bites his lip. “I just wanted to let you know,” he repeats, “that if Jungkook has a shrine to his ex in his house, you can always move back in here.”

There’s relief, and Lia doesn’t want to admit there’s relief. “Shut up,” she mutters, turning back around as Dal laughs at his own joke behind her.

It’s not the greatest comfort, but Lia uses it as such after that. Worst case, I move back in with Dal, she thinks. We stay roommates until we’re eighty, when either I die first from stress about work or he does driving his car like a maniac. Jungkook brings a carton of beer to the funeral and shares it with whichever one of us is still alive.

It’s a mildly depressing train of thought, especially when she imagines her eighty year old self heading back to her apartment while seventy-seven year old Jungkook, in his infinite wisdom, still hasn’t asked her to move in with him.

Nearly a week later, Lia has successfully kept her desires to herself, while Jungkook has continued trying to pretend he isn’t thinking about it just as much.

“Remind me again why we’re going to this club?” she asks him as they walk to his car in the basement parking. “It doesn’t really sound like your scene.”

“It isn’t,” he admits. “But the DJ tonight is a friend of a friend… of an acquaintance, who’s also kind of an ex-colleague.” He wrinkles his nose. “I wouldn’t normally go but he helped me out during the production of my debut album and I accidentally told him I owed him.”

“Ah. Mistake number one.”

“It might be. You look quite club-ready for someone who doesn’t really enjoy clubs either,” he remarks, playfully smacking her backside. “Leather pants and everything.”

“Faux leather,” she corrects, leaning over and bumping his hip with hers. “I figured I may as well look the part of a popstar’s girlfriend. Plus,” she adds after a moment, as they climb into the car and begin strapping in, “it’s the only party outfit I have at your place.”

Predictably, Jungkook freezes for a moment before clumsily buckling himself in. He doesn’t meet her eyes and swallows as he looks ahead.

“By the way, I hear the gin martinis at this club are to die for,” he declares, completely transparent. “Did you know, the martini is one of the top five drinks people order on a first date?”

Abrupt subject change coupled with a random fact that doesn’t sound completely true; Jungkook is nervous. It’s exasperating and endearing all at once.

“That’s… interesting. Maybe you should’ve invited your single friends tonight. Or if this DJ is an ex-colleague, at least the ones in your group.”

“What, all two of them?”

“Isn’t it three?”

“I don’t think so.” Jungkook shrugs as they pull out of Hannam Hill. “Or maybe it is. I don’t know. Yoongi hyung isn’t very forthcoming about his dating life and I’m too afraid to ask.”

Lia chortles as they turn into the main road, reaching for her party clutch for her phone, when she realises…

“Oh, no,” she mutters under breath.

“What?”

“I, uh…” She bites her lip, internally swearing at herself. “I was moving stuff from my regular bag to the clutch and I forgot… you know what, can we make a quick detour to my apartment? It’s on the way.”

“No, it’s not.”

“Yes, it is. If you take a right after the signal then you can take the parallel road to the church at the end of my street.”

“That’s not the same road - and come on,” he whines, his shoulders falling. “I don’t want to take a detour. What did you even forget? Power bank? Because my phone is fully charged.”

“It’s not a power bank - look, it’s kind of important, Jungkook. It’ll take, like, five extra minutes.”

“But -”

“Kook!”

“What? What did you even forget that’s so important? Is it make-up or something? Because you look -”

“It’s tampons, Jungkook.”

“It’s -”

“Tampons,” she repeats. “And I don’t want to stop at a drugstore because they may not have the exact brand that I use and most of the others chafe… down there.”

There’s a few seconds of silence while Jungkook stares out of the windshield as the car zooms down the road, his ears turning red.

“Which signal was it again?”

True to her word, they reach her three-storey apartment building a few minutes later and jog up the stairs together.

“I swear, I just need to pick up a couple of extras,” she promises him. “The last time I was caught without any on me and then I had to borrow one and it was just the worst time I - oh, my God!”

Lia gasps as she stops in her tracks in the doorway of her apartment, Jungkook right next to her.

“Is that -”

“Water,” she sighs, shaking her head. “Shit, it came into the living room? I thought we fixed that damn leak,” she mutters. She places her hands on her hips and looks up at Jungkook.

“Well?”

Jungkook looks blank. “Well… what?”

“Well… I’m going to have to wade in there,” she says slowly, already dreading it. “Do you want to come?”

“Ordinarily, I would love to because that sounds so fun, but these are Balenciaga.” He raises his right leg to show her his shoes, mimicking her position until Lia looks away.

“Alright. Wait here then,” she tells him, before gingerly placing one heeled foot into the water and cringing in anticipation. It reaches ankle deep, missing the hem of her pants only due to the height of her heels. With no specific attachment to her shoes, she takes a couple of more hesitant steps.

“Ugh, I can hear the faucet dripping from here,” she grumbles. “Sure you want to just wait out there?”

“Totally. You’re doing great, though, baby.” He grimaces as she walks further in. “Is it cold? It looks cold.”

“No, it’s room temperature. I’m just glad it hasn’t reached the sofa or the cushions or anything in the - whoa!” Lia grabs the arm of the chair beside her as she slips, thankfully saving her ankles as her knee breaks the fall.

There’s a sound of splashing before Jungkook is right next to her a second too late. “Shit, you okay?”

“Uh, yeah. No injuries, I think.” She twists to see him kneeling next to her. “What happened to your Balenciagas?”

It seems to have occurred to him only now. “Oh…” He looks down at his shoes, now submerged. “I can try blow drying them, probably?”

“Probably.” She tries to hide a smile before giving up. “Take them off before they get any more damaged, though.”

He takes her advice this time and they both rid themselves of their shoes, tossing them on the chair before splashing their way into the kitchen.

Jungkook whistles. “Wow, that’s some leak,” he remarks, following her as she falls to her knees to get a good look at the thin but steady stream of water spilling from a crack in the pipe. “Is this the only leak?” he wonders out loud before pressing his hand against the crack so the water suddenly stops.

“No, there’s a small one here, too,” she answers, squinting at something on the other side of the pipe, a little higher up. “It’s only a few drops out of this one but it’s still bad enough.”

“Maybe we can -” Jungkook grunts and tugs at the pipe, “- wrench it into place? To block this crack?”

“Doubtful. It’s a really old pipe, too, so I’m afraid it might break.”

“It’s metal - can metal break?”

“I mean… yeah? I guess? Look, it’s all rusted up here.”

“Oh, yeah…”

In his effort to look, Jungkook’s hand slips off the crack and the flow of the water resumes.

“Okay, this can’t go on - we need to block this for now so we can get rid of this fucking flood,” she decides, noting in worry how the water level is slowly rising. “And I’m calling the landlord tomorrow and giving him a piece of my mind.”

“Um -” Jungkook looks around from his position by the pipe. “We have a towel, some flour and stuff… maybe we stick some dough onto it?”

“Worth a shot but I don’t know if it’ll hold till tomorrow. Maybe we should try moving the pipe,” she admits, holding the top of it and wondering if it’ll work.

“Okay, let’s do that. Worst case, we find a plastic or metal box, cut it in just the right dimensions to cover the crack and fix it around the pipe.”

“Worst case.”

Jungkook waves her over and they grip the pipe together. “If this goes south, just remember that I love you.”

Despite the chaos and the fact that her faux leather pants are damp and disgusting, Lia snorts. “Shut up, you dork. Come on, let’s do this.” Both of them pull the top part towards the lower one to try and close the gap.

“A little to the left, come on…”

“It’s - not - moving -” Lia bites her lip and jerks the pipe back, accidentally slipping again and falling back onto her boyfriend. The jolt makes Jungkook tip over and the pipe twists on the rust, bursting.

“Oh, my - “ Jungkook’s words are cut off when a jet of water hits him square in the face. Lia gasps and reaches for the pipe as he fumbles, sputtering, and lunges towards the pipe to turn it away.

“Jungkook, no! It’ll break if you -”

But Lia is cut off as well and almost knocked backwards by the force of the water. It’s everywhere now; her clothes, her hair - she’s fully drenched. Next to her, Jungkook looks like he’s been dunked into a lake, his long thick hair sticking to his forehead.

“Take cover!” he yells, pulling open a cabinet behind him with one hand and yanking something out, while the other hand covers the jet of water uselessly. He replaces it with the lid of a cooking pan and tosses her another one which splashes into the water next to her.

“Thanks! I - Jungkook!” She brandishes the utensil while trying to dodge the water. “It’s a sieve!”

“What?”

“It has holes!”

“I can’t see! Wait -” He crawls towards the cabinet but slips midway, swearing loudly.

“Careful!” She ducks and tries to get to the pipe but feels him grip her forearm and pull her back.

“You’ll hurt yourself!” he yells, handing her another pan. “Jesus - how did you guys let this stupid faucet get this bad?”

“I told you - our landlord is a jackass who ghosts us if we bring up fixtures!”

“Well -” Jungkook pauses, wincing a little as the water continues to ricochet off the pan he’s holding up. “In that case, this is probably as good a time as any to ask you this, but do you want to move in with me?”

Lia almost swallows a mouthful of tap water. “What?”

“Just - I mean, this apartment is unlivable!” he says loudly. “And I’m a much better landlord! And also -” He gags and spits out some water, “- I love you and all!” He shrugs awkwardly, drenched to the bone with his oversized t-shirt sticking to his shoulders and chest.

Lia tries - she really tries - to keep a straight face, to attempt to understand what goes on in Jungkook’s head. But it’s a lost cause, for at the end of the day, whatever it is, it just works. Through the irritation at her landlord and the general shock of being waterboarded by a broken pipe, she sees it. A shine in his doe eyes, a hint of nervousness.

She doesn’t realise immediately why the water hits her suddenly with force or why Jungkook’s eyes widen belatedly.

“What are you doing? The water is - oh.” The anticipation turns into the beginnings of a smile when he works out why she has knee walked all the way towards him and he stands on his knees as well, just as she reaches him and places her arms around his neck, and kisses him.

When she pulls away, he’s grinning. “That’s a yes?”

“That’s a thank God you finally asked.”

Jungkook nods sheepishly. “I wanted it to be perfect, honestly. I was just waiting for the right time and -” He sighs, shaking his head so droplets of water fall from his hair.

“You know what? I think this, unexpected as it was, is pretty perfect,” she says honestly. “So… I guess that’s a yes,” she clarifies, meeting him in a kiss once again.

There’s a muffled sound and then a splash, followed by a gasp.

“Oh, my God! What the fuck?”

Jungkook jerks away, pursing his lips. “As long as he is never allowed in our house,” he declares, glaring and pointing in the direction of the living room.

She gives him a look. “Pretty sure you’ll crack before I do on that front,” she guesses, just as Dal appears in the doorway of the kitchen, looking incredulous.

“What the fuck happened in here?”

“What do you think? That damn faucet,” she snaps, pointing at it. “This is the landlord’s problem now - he and his insurance can handle it.”

“I agree, but - God, are you guys okay?”

“Yeah, we were using lids…” Jungkook picks his up and places it in front of the stream of water, much more unfazed about it now than he was before.

“Lids? Why didn’t you guys just turn off the water?” Taking a long step across the flooded kitchen floor, he reaches for a panel behind the left-most cabinet and twists a lever - and the water stops.

Speechless, Lia turns to look at Jungkook who is looking back at her with equal dismay. “We thought of dough before we thought of turning off the water,” he mutters, shaking his head.

“And we’re taking it to the grave,” she replies, squeezing his hand.

He’s wet, his designer clothes ruined - but Jeon Jungkook is glowing. A moment later, he squeezes her hand back.

“Deal.”

—

Thank you for reading. Don’t forget to leave a review :)

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook fanfic #thebtswritersclub #btshoneyhive #bangtanwhq #bangtantheatrenet #bangtanbathhouse #k-vanity #wkcnet #bangtanoasis #bts jungkook fanfic #bts jungkook angst

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mrs-snape5984 · 3 days

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“There is no other love, it's only yours…”

“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)

Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄

In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.

When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!

So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.

I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!

Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.

Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

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bookuce · 2 days

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Change My Mind

SUMMARY: Josh and Alina are great friends most days. Other days, they want to tear each other apart. Some days, they’re in love with each other, but neither of them will admit it.

*DISCLAIMER: This is a multi-part series. I do not own any of the characters in the writing except for the OC. The book uses actual names of wrestlers. Josh is Jey, Jon is Jimmy, Trinity is Naomi, and Alina is Alina. The book is not realistic and does not take place during real events, but some actual events (matches, storylines) could pop up in the story eventually. I DO NOT GIVE ANYONE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE OR REPOST MY WRITINGS ANYWHERE. THAAAAAANKS. *

PAIRING: Jey Uso x Black OC

TROPE: Friends to Lovers

WARNINGS: Language

WORD COUNT: 2,574

PART SIX

PART SEVEN

(1/2)

TWO WEEKS LATER

Wedding days were always hectic. When Cassie got married, it seemed like everything that could go wrong was going wrong. It rained on the day of her wedding, and it was outdoors. Lucky for them, they were able to find another venue nearby to get married. Though it wasn’t the dream wedding she had planned, it was unique to them—making the day even more special. Today’s wedding was sunny, not a cloud in the sky. The only issue now was that the hairstylist who was supposed to do Tasha’s hair today had to cancel—sick kid, she says.

Finding a credible, available hairstylist in the metropolitan of Atlanta on short notice would be challenging, but lucky for Alina, Cassie was in charge of that. Alina was in charge of making sure everything stayed on schedule. With a clipboard tucked beneath her arm, she and Josh walked towards the Gentlemen’s Hall, where Michael and his groomsmen were. “I’ll come get you when I’m through talking to the decorators.” She says as they cross the yard to a small white house on the side of the winery.

“You do not have to worry about me,” Josh starts. “I’m a big boy; I can handle myself.” He promises. They stop on the porch steps, Alina now turning to him.

“I know,” She says, glancing towards the door. “I just want to make sure you’re comfortable.” Josh knew none of the men outside of Michael; he and Michael had only spoken a handful of times.

“I’ll be fine.” He assures her. They exchanged stares for a moment before Alina slowly began to nod.

“Okay,” She breathes, moving up the steps. Josh was close behind, his hand reaching out to open the door for her. Blaring music poured out of the house, with loud laughter following behind. She walks in, instantly greeted by the smell of cigars mixed with expensive cologne. She fans her hand in front of her face, looking at the Eight men peering up at Alina with grand smiles on their faces. A chorus of whistles would come in for the woman, but she ignored them. She was too distracted by the fact that the air was too damn thick in this room. “Damn, can y’all breathe in here?” She asks, making a face of disgust.

Josh stood close behind her, his eyes scanning the room. For someone who interacts with strangers on a daily, he couldn’t help but feel a bit nervous. He wouldn’t admit this to his girl; she hoped he’d make friends with these men. For her, he would try. After all, they’ll have to get used to him being around for a long time. He wasn’t going anywhere. “It’s to keep the ladies out.” Samuel, Michael’s brother, says, making the men laugh.

“You’re doing a great job then.” She mutters. “Y’all need to make sure yall have this smoking shit wrapped up soon though. Tasha will throw a fit if she smells anything but cologne on y’all.” She says, pointing at the glass of liquor in Michael’s hand. He glances down at the glass, a slight grin on his face.

“I can’t calm my nerves?” He asks.

“With one drink.” She tells him. “You can get fucked up after the wedding. I don’t care what happens after, as long as my best friend is happy.” She tells him, earning a few groans from the men.

“Can always count on you to keep us in check.” A man says, his eyes finding Alina’s. There was a flirty grin on his lips while he spoke, his eyes trailing down her body. Josh notices the look, his brows furrowing slightly. She would peer over to that man, an unreadable expression on her face. She’d take in a breath, reaching behind her to grab Josh’s hand.

“This is Josh. I’m leaving him with y’all.” She points her index finger at the men, allowing it to go around the room. “Play nice.” She says before turning to her man. “Be nice.” She whispers to him. Before he could say anything, she leaned in to peck his lips. “Love you.” She says.

“I love you too.” He replies. With a wave, she spares the room one last glance before exiting the house. Josh watched as Alina left before turning his attention back to the men in the room. They were all quiet, staring at him. “What’s up?” He greets them with an upward nod of his head. Michael steps forward, his hand open for a dap up. Josh would close the gap, their hands coming together for the greeting and hug.

“Make yourself comfortable, man,” Michael says, pulling back to look at him. “You want anything to drink? We got a cigar left.” He says. Josh shakes his head at the cigar offer. He didn’t care much for cigars.

“I’ll take a glass, Uce.” He says, moving to sit in an open seat next to the man who eyed his woman. Josh and the guy briefly exchange glances before he returns his attention to Michael. The groom turned to the mini-bar behind him, pouring Josh a small glass of bourbon from the decanter on the counter. When he finishes pouring his glass, he turns to pass him the drink. Josh takes it, saying a small thank you to him.

“No problem. Let me introduce you to everyone.” Michael says, lifting his hand. He points to a guy seated in a red recliner seat. “This is my little brother, Sam,” He moves on to the next. “My fraternity brothers, Calvin, Malcolm, Shawn, Kenny, Nate, and Theo.” He finishes, ending with the man sitting next to him. There was something off about Theo—Josh could tell, but he wasn’t sure what it was just yet.

Josh nods once at everyone, giving them a slight smile. “Ay, nice to meet y’all.” He says.

“So you and Lina, huh?” Shawn asks.

“Yeah, she’s a great woman,” Josh confesses. “I’m lucky to have her.” He adds. The eight men in the room looked after Lina, always ready to protect her. She was like a sister to most of them.

“How long have y’all been together?” Theo asks suddenly. Instead of looking at the man who asked him such a question, Josh glances down at the glass in his hand.

“A few weeks,” Josh answers. “We’ve been friends for two years, though.” Theo hums at the answer. Michael and Sam would exchange glances at the interaction, the brothers sharing some unspoken agreement. “How do you know her?” Josh asks.

“Ex-fiance.” Josh becomes incredibly still at the answer. “Dated all through college, engaged for two.” Theo finishes. In the two years Alina and Josh have known each other, she had never mentioned that she was engaged. Josh swirled the brown liquid in his glass before bringing it to his lips for a sip. Michael and Sam both knew this conversation was going to happen eventually. It didn’t cross Alina’s mind that it would happen today. Josh was for sure going to bring it up to her later.

The brown liquid warmed Josh’s chest, causing him to clear his throat slightly and clench his jaw. He sniffles before turning to look at Theo. “I didn’t know she was engaged.” He says. Theo and Josh watched each other in silence for a bit.

“I’m surprised she didn’t tell you.” He says.

“Must’ve not been important,” Josh replies, his gaze becoming cold. Theo continued to stare at Josh, a faint grin on his face. The room became silent while everyone watched the two men tied to Alina McLemore stare each other down. The grin on Theo’s face made Josh’s blood pressure rise. He could feel his body warming by the second, his ears getting hot.

Kenny’s eyes flickered between everyone before he leaned forward on the sofa he sat on. “So, Josh, what do I gotta do to get a few tickets to Smackdown?” He says, pulling Josh’s attention from the man next to him. Theo stands to his feet, walking to the kitchen. Josh’s eyes would flicker in his direction before moving back to Kenny.

“Nothing, what show you looking at?” He asks, giving him a grin.

“Y’all got a show coming to Savannah later on.” Kenny answers.

Josh answers with a shrug of his shoulders and shakes his head. “It’s done. Just text Lina when the time gets close, and we’ll make everything else happen.” He instructs him. Theo walks back into the room, sitting down next to Josh again.

“So you’re a…wrestler?” Theo asks, chiming into the conversation.

“Yeah, I fight,” Josh says, looking back at him. It was a subtle warning to the man next to him. Theo peers over, a smile coming to his face again. Warning received.

“And you and Lina work together?” He continues. “Wouldn’t that complicate things?” He asks, insinuating the relationship was due to fail. Theo was on a mission to piss Josh off to the point of no return, it seems. These are typical ex-boyfriend fiancé shenanigans. Josh and Theo would begin another stare-down before Josh looks away from him. Slowly, he put down his drink. He didn’t need that anymore.

“You want to elaborate, Uce?” He asks, turning his entire body to face Theo. Samuel and Michael looked at each other once more before the youngest brother stood. He glances at his phone before glancing over at Josh.

“I think the DJ just got here. Josh, you want to come with me to grab him?” He asks.

Without breaking eye contact with Theo, Josh stands to his feet. “Yeah, I’ll go.” He says, finally looking away from the man. He looks over to Sam before heading out the door. Sam points at Theo.

“You’re an asshole, I hope you know that.” He says before following the man who just left. Fresh air hit Josh like a ton of bricks, making him close his eyes and gather himself. He wasn’t going to get out of character today. He will be on his best behavior, but that Theo character? Ooh, he ought to kick his ass. Alina had some explaining to do. “Ay, let’s go,” Sam says, appearing beside the man. They’d stepped off the porch together and headed towards the pavilion where the reception was taking place. “I’m sorry about that, man. Theo’s a jackass.” He says.

“It’s all good,” Josh says, his eyes fixated on the ground. “I’m sure he was just looking out for Alina—trying to see if I’m a good guy.” That’s what he planned to tell himself. Theo wasn’t grilling Josh because he was jealous and wanted his ex-fiance back. No, he just cares about her a lot. It’s not because he still loves her—he just cares about her like he does. Yeah, that’s it. Delusion is the solution.

What he doesn’t see is the expression of concern on Sam’s face at his words. If he would have noticed, there was no telling what he’d do. Sam looks down at the ground briefly before looking off at the vineyard. “It’s not my place to speak on that,” He says finally. “But to my knowledge, Lina ain’t paid that man any mind in years. She just tolerates him because he’s in the friend group.” He explains. Lina is notorious for putting distance between herself and others when she doesn’t want to talk. Josh knew it firsthand. There had been plenty of times she had ducked and dodged him when she was upset.

“I get it,” He sighs. He had nothing to worry about, really, but still. Four years is a lot of history to have with someone—especially when you almost married them. “I’ll have to ask Lina about it later,” Josh says.

“Ask me what?” Sam and Josh stop walking, their eyes meeting the woman standing on the steps. Alina had just stepped out of the side doors of the winery when she spotted Josh and Sam walking towards the pavilion. They hadn’t noticed her yet, but she spoke up when she heard her name.

“About your ex-fiancé.” Josh says immediately. Sam looked away from her, his hand going to his neck.

“I’ll get up with you, bruh,” Sam says, tapping Josh on the arm. He rushes off towards the pavilion, not wanting to be in earshot of that conversation. Alina glances down at the ground. She tucks her bottom lip in between her teeth before taking a deep breath.

“Josh—.”

“You set me up.” He says, pointing at her. “You knew damn well that man was in the wedding party, and you ain’t say a damn thing.” He says, louder than he should have. Some of Tasha’s relatives had walked by, their eyes now on the couple. Alina glances around them before reaching to grab his hand. “Nah, man.” He pulls his hand back from her grasp, causing her eyes to widen.

“Can we not do this here?” She says through clenched teeth. She snatches his hand up, now pulling him inside the winery. They’d march through the halls of the old building, her eyes darting from left to right for an open room. When she finds a room, she pulls him into it, closing the door behind them.

Josh leans against the desk, his arms clasped tight in his lap. “I should’ve known something was up with his ass the moment he looked you up and down.” He says, shaking his head. “If I would have knocked his ass through the wall,” He gestures to himself. “I would have been in the wrong.” Alina rolls her eyes at his words, moving to stand in front of him. She grabs his hands, unclasping them to fill with her own. He allowed her this.

“Me and Theo haven’t been together in over ten years.” She explains. “We don’t see each other, we don’t talk to each other. He doesn’t know me anymore, Josh.” It was true. Who she was at twenty-two was not who she was now. She has grown and lived an entire life since then.

“Shit, I didn’t know strangers look at each other like that.” A mix of jealousy and insecurity was getting the best of him. Even if it’s been ten years, there’s still something there. He saw it with his own eyes. Delusion has reared its ugly head to work against him.

Alina drops his hands, taking a step back. “Alright,” She chuckles. “You can go home.” She says, moving towards the door. “And I don’t mean my house; cross that state line.” She wasn’t about to argue with someone who wasn’t trying to listen to her.

“Lina—.”

She spins around. “Don’t Lina me! You just accused me of having feelings for someone who cheated on me. That man got a woman pregnant behind my back and defiled my trust! He broke his promise, Joshua! I don’t give a damn about that man! I love you!” And there it was, the truth he wouldn’t allow her to speak. “That man—hurt me!” She says, her voice breaking. There was a lump forming in her throat, a sign that sobs were soon to come. “And you’re hurting me right now. I–I don’t have time for this right now. I don’t—.” She was not about to ruin her makeup over him.

“Lina, I—.” He starts once again. Before he could finish, she had already run out the door, leaving him alone in this office. “Shit.” He hisses, running his hands over his face.

He fucked up.

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A/N: Welcome to the Chaos! There are two parts to this chapter! So be on the lookout for the next half of it soon! I would like to attach what Theo looks like!

His name is Lance Gross for those who don't know him! Fiiiiine actor. Anywho, if you need an idea of what Alina's bridesmaid dress looks like, it's a spaghetti strap brown satin dress ruched on her left hip. I don't have a picture bc I imagined this lmao sorry

BUT ENOUGH ABOUT THAT. LETS CHAT

JOSH WHAT DID YOU DOOOOOOOOO!!!

🏷️ list: @thesamoanqueen @whatdoeseverybodywant @headoftheetable @mzv11 @southerngirl41 @yana3sworld @wanderingreigns @wrestlingprincess80 @siriuslycee @vebner37 @astridxxxxxx @alichesmi @tshepisho @scarlettnoir01 @brokenglassslippers @reignsboy19 @sayyestoheav3nn @cyberdejos2 @empressdede @sisinever @truefant4sy @paigereeder @tbmotw @fearlesschimera @venusesworld @usoholic @sageispunk @bebesobrielo @jstarr86 @vibessonvibes @issahyland

#jey uso #main event jey uso #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #jey uso fanfiction #jey uso x black oc #jey uso x oc #jey uso fanfic #Spotify

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robboyblunder · 1 day

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I started drawing proper reference sheets for my OC 4 months ago and only just finished them last week, so PLEASE check out my new set I made for Jayce my beloved motorcyclist robot assassin! He has multiple identities and I adore him :>

If you're curious about his story check out his tag on my blog, I've drawn him lots! I'm also putting extra details about his ref sheets under the read more.

ID in ALT text!

DETAILS:

-Jayce's body is a combination of solid metal and soft vinyl that's padded to feel like flesh over his internals. He can change this on a whim exchanging parts (in many ways 😉), but personally likes being able to be "cuddle-able" for reasons he won't explain. If he's "injured" he bleeds a blue glowing fluid, but he cannot "bleed out". He has a sort of false healing factor that repairs on the spot.

-while he can change up his clothes, he's very particular to his style and attached to wearing his usual. He's picky and doesn't like being told what to do, so getting him to change is... difficult. He has a preference for leather over others.

-Jayce's main identity is technically a wanted criminal assassin, so he has a hard time casually being out and about wherever he's recognized. thus he's always on the move. As for his "Daytime" persona he uses for LEGAL racing, "bluejayy" is completely opposite to Jayce in a lot of ways- openly friendly, follows the rules, and is a good sport.

-Bluejayy, his persona, is used to participate and enjoy celebrity status and stardom but with limits- he always makes sure to avoid winning first more than once in a while, opting to purposefully place within the top 5 instead. He also rarely ever makes off-track appearances, making himself an 'enigma' people can never find outside races usually. He avoids sponsors who aren't non-profit, and doesn't like being under contract under anyone if he can help it.

-wings in his world are common, however flight capable wings are rare and expensive- outside of how difficult they are to maintain, you need to be registered to have them for safety and legal purposes (even if avoiding the law it paints a target on you big time). Thusly, he NEVER uses them in his other persona (bluejayy). Flight capability while uncommon is useful for his assassination purposes; not for hiding.

-Jayce's main bike is a custom that while it looks heavy and slow was made for endurance and maneuvering. He often is working to constantly improve its capability and comfort. It looks like him because he's rather vain. It can seat two people, though nobody yet has been allowed to ride it with him outside dire circumstances.

-Bluejayy's bike is a typical speed based cycle for racing- light as possible with as much power as possible. He customizes this bike frequently too, finding it amusing to make it look like his persona.

#robot #robot oc #robots #motorcycle #motocross #scifi #original character #oc #jayce #bluejayce

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bldhrry · 2 days

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A Court of Passion and Daydream

Chapter Eight | Who's Afraid of Little Old Me? Azriel x OC!Reader Masterlist

word count: 8.7k

warnings: cursing, blood, violence, attempted sa

author's note: kind of a filler chapter that explores Celestia's background, but it does shed Some light on the situation between her and Azriel. sorry if anyone finds it boring; i like to make sure my writing has sustenance and it's not just action all the time if that makes sense. i promise the rest will be more focused on moving the plot along. thanks so much for the likes, reblogs, and comments! lmk what you think :)

The next morning, Cassian, Celestia, Azriel, and Rhysand met Devlon and his seconds at the House of Wind. Celestia and Azriel kept their distance from not only Devlon and the other Illyrians but also from each other. Cassian and Rhysand greeted the Camp Commander with tense hand shakes as they led them to the balcony to watch the trials.

Cassian, Celestia, Azriel, and Rhysand made their way to the ring, walking down the spiral stone steps. Cassian and Rhysand acted as a buffer between the other two and let Celestia lead the way and Azriel and his shadows trailing behind them. He wished he was in the front. Every second they spent in the tiny, dark staircase was agonizing. He kept watching as she stepped down, her hand on the railing letting it drag and feel the cool stone’s ridges and cuts. Her scent was overwhelming and he wanted nothing more than to lay at her feet and confess his feelings and the truth of the bond and beg her to come back to him. He did none of that though. Instead he just took what he could: memorizing her backside, scent, and the way that she walked.

The trio made it to the ring to see Nesta, Emorie, and Gwyn already stretching. Cassian made his way to the group, instructing them on how the trial would go and what exactly it was for and what it would mean if they won.

“The most important thing to know when trying to beat this is that you have to work together,” he emphasized. The trio of females nodded.

Azriel and Celestia and Rhysand watched from the outskirts of the ring letting the General handle it; they all figured it would be best given the company they had upstairs.

“I don’t think they will take us that seriously if the Lieutenant General, who is a female, is leading the trial and not the General; we need to show force and keep to the ranks.” Rhysand had said hours prior. Celestia just rolled her eyes.

The trials began and Nesta, Emorie, and Gwyn breezed through the first quarter and then began to struggle. Celestia glanced up at Devlon and he had a smirked spread across his lips and she growled. Fucking asshole.

The females recovered, seeming to remember Cassian’s one and only advice. It took them an hour and a half, but they completed the trial with a whoop and a group hug. Now it was Celestia who smirked and Devlon who growled. As she watched the Commander, he leaned towards his seconds and they began to whisper and nod their heads. They were too far for Celestia to hear what they were saying, so she broke her one moral code: she entered Devlon’s mind and listened in to the conversation.

“They completed the trials which means they’re qualified for the Blood Rite.” Devlon said.

“They’re not Illyrians,” said the short, stocky soldier.

“Who gives a shit? Someone needs to show Rhysand he can’t fuck with our lifestyle. We put these females in and they die, which they will, he’ll stop with the whole ‘females need to train’ bullshit.” Now it was the leaner, fair haired soldier who spoke.

“They’re going to put them in the Blood Rite!” Celestia screamed. Nobody was listening to her and she was growing more frustrated as the minutes passed.

“No, they are not,” Cassian growled. “I told you; this was just to piss them off.”

“I saw it. I heard him say it. They are going to do it.”

“What do you mean you saw it?” Rhysand crossed his arms.

“I looked.” Celestia raised her head with pride. “You don’t get to show these bastards that females are as capable as them and for them to not want to ruin that and show how much stronger they are. I’m sorry you three are blind to the true nature of males, but I am not.” All three males flinched.

“They are going to throw them in there like they did me and who knows what they’ll do to them.” She let out a deep breath and looked at the ceiling.

She turned and looked at Cassian. “They fear Nesta and they’ll crush her by any means necessary. Trust me, I know.”

Cassian had a troubled look in his eyes and he sat on Rhysand’s desk, gripping the edge until his knuckles turned white. “We can’t do anything if they put them in the Rite.”

Everyone nodded their heads.

“They’ll kill us all if we try to stop them.”

Everyone nodded their heads again.

“So, what do we do?” Rhysand asked.

“We prepare them. Train more and make it more aggressive.” Celestia had her arms crossed and started to pace the room. She hadn’t noticed how close she had gotten to Azriel until she was in front of him and his presence wrapped around her. She stopped and her wings twitched and flexed, spreading out just an inch. She rolled her head and kept walking.

“If I did it and won by myself, then they can do it with the three of them together. We need to show them my Blood Rite.” She looked up at everyone, a determined look set in her violet eyes.

They had been able to coax Gwyn to leave the library and come to the Manor with the promise that nobody but Celestia, Azriel, Cassian, Rhysand, Feyre, Nesta, and Emorie were there. It also helped that Nesta promised to have another sleepover.

Celestia didn’t like Gwyn for obvious reasons. Her need to be around Azriel made her have to continuously roll and crack her neck to relieve the tension building in her neck and shoulders. But she wasn’t about to let her die.

“How are we going to see her Blood Rite?” Emorie asked, accepting a cup of tea.

“We’re all going to hold hands and I’ll send it to your minds,” Celestia explained through a mouthful of cheese; it was the only thing that she found would stay down when she was around Azriel.

Azriel stood at the back of the room, next to the doorway with his hands in his pockets. He surveyed the room but never let Celestia out of his sight. She wore an oversized sweater and leggings with her house shoes and she sat crisscrossed on an armchair, a plate of cheese in her lap. She looked relaxed and comfortable to the naked eye, but he noticed her rigid posture and the way her hands trembled slightly.

“You’re a daemati, right?” Gwyn spoke up and a flash of annoyance crossed Celestia’s face but it quickly went away and she nodded.

She plopped another cube of cheese in her mouth and smirked. “Don’t piss me off and I won’t peek in that head of your’s.”

Gwyn’s face paled and Rhysand sucked at his teeth. “Celestia,” he warned.

“I’m kidding!” She raised her hands in self defense. “I don’t do that…” she trailed off, “sometimes.”

“But that’s how you figured out Devlon’s plan.” Nesta now spoke, a glass of cider in her hands and Cassian behind her, his hands secured on her shoulders.

“Yes. It’s invasive so I try not to, but I knew he was planning something. He’s a fucking dick and the last thing that needed to happen is you guys going in there unprepared. I grew up Illyrian so I had an idea of what I was facing but you guys, minus Emorie,” she gestured to the females, “don’t.”

Everyone nodded and Azriel crossed his arms. The movement made Celestia look up at him and he froze. Her gaze gingerly looked him over and he felt exposed under her violet stare. Her eyes were lighter than Rhysand’s, but he hadn’t seen their shine since the day he left her. Guilt forced his eyes to break away from her’s.

She felt defeated as he looked at the floor, moving the threads of the rug around with his shoe. She sighed and cleared her throat. “Alright,” she clapped her hands, “shall we begin?”

Everyone pulled up their chairs and linked hands. With a nod to everyone in the circle, Celestia let out a breath and slumped into the chair, her mind branching out to everyone, allowing them access to the memory of the Blood Rite.

Her mother had gone to Velaris to visit her mate, Rhysand’s father. The four were sound asleep in their respective rooms; Celestia in the room she shared with her mother, Rhysand in his own room, and Cassian and Azriel in their shared room. She had completed the Blood Rite trials months prior, but was informed because she was a female, she would not be allowed to participate.

“You’re lucky we even let you do this in the first place, girl.” The Camp Commander at the time sneered. She felt defeated, but Rhysand had said it was for the best; she would remain safe and she had the knowledge that she was just as good, maybe even a better fighter, than her Illyrian counterparts.

The night before the Rite, she was dead asleep in her bed when the sound of a thud woke her up. She groggily opened her eyes and looked around her dark room. As she looked to her right, she saw a dark figure in the shape of a male, frozen in place leaning over the bed with something in his hands.

She let out a scream and jumped out of the bed, dodging the figure as he lunged for her. She bolted through the bedroom door and made her way downstairs; despite her mother being an Illyrian, she never allowed weapons in the room, keeping them in a closet near the front door. That’s where she needed to go.

She heard a crash and the figure, no, a male, came out of the room and tried to grab her but she jumped over the last few steps and rolled, bouncing to her feet. She turned to go to the closet, when hands grabbed her and she screamed, thrashing and jabbing her elbow in the face of whoever held her. They stumbled backwards and yelled out. It was Cassian.

“What the fuck?” He growled and held his nose.

“There’s somebody in the house; he’s trying to get me.” As she explained, the male bounded down the stairs and halted, eyeing her and Cassian. By then Rhysand and Azriel had rushed out of their rooms, weapons in hand, with only their sleeping shorts on.

For a few moments, everyone eyed each other, crouching slightly in anticipation gauging who was going to strike first. It was Azriel.

Before anyone could process what was happening, he darted to the assailant and tackled him. Celestia made a break for the closet, swinging it open and grabbing her dagger. She turned around to see Rhysand and Cassian moving towards Azriel who, to her shock, was raining punches down on the male. The male held his ground as he fought back, punching him so hard everyone heard a crack and Azriel stumbled, letting the male overtake him.

It was no use because Cassian and Rhysand pulled him off of Azriel and pinned him to the floor. She tossed Rhysand her dagger and he held it to his throat.

“What do you-” he stopped and studied the face that lay underneath him. He knew him. He was one of the seconds for the Camp Commander and he had participated in the Blood Rite with Rhysand. Realization washed over Rhysand's face and he looked at Celestia in shock.

The door swung open and a male, bigger than the one laying on the floor and the Camp Commander walked in. “Enough with the theatrics, boy. Let him go.” The Commander said and Rhysand did just that

The bigger male that walked in with the Commander made his way towards Celestia and even though she fought and tried to get away, he locked her arms behind her back, preventing her from moving.

“You said she couldn’t do it,” Rhysand snarled. Azriel and Cassian moved behind Rhysand, flanking his sides.

“We changed our minds.” The Commander said casually. “I didn’t think it was fair to exclude someone who clearly beat the trial fair and square, female or male.” He shrugged.

“You piece of shit,” Cassian said through gritted teeth.

The Commander simply put his hand up. “I’m done with this. You’re lucky I’m feeling merciful tonight and not going to kill you three for intervening.”

“We didn’t know.” Azriel panting. His face was lopsided and it looked like his jaw was broken and he looked at her with an exasperated look in his eyes.

“I know,” he said plainly, “which is why I’m letting it slide this one time.”

She had begun to cry. She was going to the Rite completely unprepared. She had no shoes and was wearing shorts and a shirt.

“At least let her dress properly.” Azriel pleaded, gesturing to her current state. “She wasn’t allowed the time to get ready.”

Rhysand shot him a look of pure warning.

“Fair enough. One of you, go and grab her something, but after that we’re taking her.”

Rhysand nodded and headed towards the stairs. He took his time going up, gripping the railing. As he looked through her wardrobe, he fought back tears. She was going to be killed and if she wasn’t immediately killed…he didn’t want to think about it. He grabbed her a sweater, a thermal long sleeve, boots, a hat, and thermal leggings.

The entire time he was gone, Celestia kept looking between Azriel and Cassian, begging for them to do something but they didn’t. Instead Cassian looked at her with pity and Azriel looked at her with rage. He wasn’t mad at her, no, he was mad at the males standing in front of him for taking her away.

Rhysand came back and the male holding Celestia pushed her forward and she silently took the clothes and went into the bathroom to change. None of the males spoke when she was gone, simply exchanging threatening looks.

She found a sense of confidence as she looked in the mirror and dressed. She was powerful and a good fighter, beating every male that challenged her. The camp feared her when she walked through the camp with her fighting leathers on and sword strapped down the middle of her back. She will do this and she will win.

She exited the bathroom, her head high. She nodded to her brother, Cassian, and Azriel and they nodded back understanding her nonverbal farewell. She walked back to the male that had restrained her and looked him in the eyes. He seemed to cower slightly under her stare.

He placed a cloth over her nose and mouth and she collapsed.

DAY ONE

She woke up wet. Confused, she opened her eyes and saw white all around her. Snow. There were bodies around, all winged males. Illyrians.

She was in the Blood Rite. The memories from the previous night came flooding back to her and she shakily got up, trying not to make any noise, but the snow crunching under her feet started to rouse the soon to be warriors. Before she could be noticed, she started running away, towards Ramiel.

She headed towards the thick forest to her side. She knew everyone else would start heading towards the mountain, but if she stayed behind then she could trail after everyone, hopefully unnoticed. She scaled a tree and sat on the highest branch that could support her weight and looked towards the mountain. They had been placed far and she couldn’t imagine reaching it in a week; it looked like it would take a month especially in the current weather conditions. She could see a mass of bodies spread out in the fields and trees below her and her stomach churned wondering how she was going to win this undetected. She knew she wouldn’t, but one can hope.

As night fell, she climbed down and keeping the mountain to her left, began walking, gripping the makeshift bow she had made tightly. She knew fae monsters would be lurking the woods but she would gladly take them on than a male so she kept her eyes peeled and ears alert for growls and footsteps. Thankfully, she heard none.

A few hours passed, and she found a small cave. After scouting for anybody inside or around, she made her way in, covering her tracks and the entrance with sticks, leaves, and moss. She lit a fire and cooked the rabbit she had gotten. Silently she ate and cried; she didn’t want to die. After she ate, she put the fire out and covered the embers and ashes with dirt. Then, facing the entrance of the cave with a wooden knife, she fell asleep.

DAY TWO

She woke the next morning with the sun hitting her face through the gaps of the entrance. She rubbed her eyes and sat up, studying the position of the sun; it was early morning. She gathered her supplies and continued on her way to the mountain.

She didn’t see anyone and she began to grow suspicious. There was no way they had all gotten ahead of her. There were hundreds of males in these woods and not a single soul was around. Yet, she kept going, stopping every new and then to stop by a stream to drink. Night came again and with no cave in sight, she climbed a tree and sat there, looking up at the sky.

The constellations were gleaming brightly and she named each one in her mind as she looked up. The sky was so wide and never ending and it made her feel so small. She thought about her mother and the way she also loved the skies. She believed that it would tell you things if you looked close enough. She was superstitious in that sense; she claims she knew she was pregnant before the healer because she saw the shape of a hand and belly in the sky. That’s when she decided to name her Celestia if she was a female. A tear fell at the thought, the fact told to her throughout her childhood; a constant reminder that she was loved dearly by her mother despite what she had done.

She fell asleep to the thought of her mother and if she was cheering her on from where she rested.

DAY THREE

Morning came and the sun didn’t wake her, but voices did. She peeked down and could see a group of males, seven of them, were speaking in hushed, but excited voices, boasting about the males they had killed thus far.

“My father said they put Rhysand’s sister in here. Stupid bitch thought she could show off and we wouldn’t teach her a lesson.” She leaned over the branch and could see the one speaking. It was the Camp Commander’s son, Stanis.

The males around him were other Lord’s sons. She knew them all; they were cruel and brutal in the ring and made it a point to challenge her and beat her down every chance they got. As she got stronger and better they became more aggressive.

“You think we’ll catch her?” Another male spoke, this time it was Burke, another Lord’s son.

“She can’t hide for long. Everyone is going to be looking for her. She has nowhere to hide.” Stanis replied.

“We’ll kill her?” A soft, high pitched voice asked. She looked at him and recognized him as the butcher’s son. His name was Tym. He was only 14.

“Fuck no,” smirked Stanis and the group laughed. Tym’s face went as white as the snow.

Celestia leaned back into the tree and stared ahead. She needed to get out of here.

She waited until the group had left and she couldn’t hear their wretched voices, or laughter, or footsteps before she climbed down the tree. She looked around and sensing no one, she went West towards the side of the mountain.

By the time nightfall came, she was too exhausted to find a cave, so she scaled a tree and passed out.

DAY FOUR

She marched on the next morning with no incident and no sign of the group from earlier. Night fell once more and she sighed in relief when she found a cave and without thinking, from pure exhaustion, she entered.

“Don’t move,” said a deep voice. She held her hands up and looked around the cave. She couldn’t see the person.

“Who are you?” The voice echoed through the round cave and she cringed and looked behind her. She hoped nobody could hear.

“Celestia,” she said quietly.

The person hummed and she could hear him move. He was to her right. As his footsteps got closer, she edged towards her left, keeping the wall behind her.

The male stood in front of the entrance and the moonlight washed over his face, revealing his features. It was Kristoff, the welder’s son. She relaxed; he was kind and the only person who tolerated her in the ring. She couldn’t say he wouldn’t kill her right now, but she could say that he would hesitate before he did it.

“I was just looking for a place to camp for the night. I’ll leave and if anyone asks if I saw you I won’t say a word.” She earnestly promised.

He pondered for a moment, glancing outside and looking up at the sky,

“You won’t kill me and steal my stuff?” He looked at her.

“No. Will you?”

“No.”

She reached out her hand and he took it, giving her a firm shake.

They decided not to light a fire. They were closer to the mountain now and there were going to be more Illyrians than before. They talked about what they had seen so far. He was placed with the majority of the fighters and everyone woke up at the same time and a bloodbath ensued. He was able to get away, hiding in the bushes outside of the clearing. Since then he found body after body and it only got worse as the days passed. She told him she hadn’t seen or heard anyone since yesterday morning. He shook his head when she told him of what Stanis had said.

“I’m not surprised. He’s had it out for you since day one. Even when you started you were still better than him. That and he’s just a pig.” Stanis chuckled and Celestia couldn’t help but laugh through her nose.

They slept on other ends of the cave that night, both holding their daggers to their chest. Just in case.

She woke up, but kept her eyes closed. Through her eyelids, she could tell it was still dark out, but she felt a dark presence looming over her. Behind her, she could hear gurgling and she shot up and turned around. Someone was crouching over Kristoff and she caught the gleam of a knife, a real knife. Clutching her wooden dagger, she pounced on whoever it was and he let out a startled scream that was cut short as she dug the knife into the side of his neck. He continued to grab at her arms that were around his shoulders, but she didn’t let go of her grip, deciding to push the blade deeper. As he started to fall backwards, she leaped off and stepped to the side, letting the body hit the ground. It was Burke.

She heard the gurgling sound again and rushed to Kristoff. His throat had been slashed open and he was bleeding out. She covered his neck with her hands, eyes brimming with tears.

“No, no, no,” she cried. She tried keeping pressure, but the more pressure she placed, the more he couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t save him, he was going to die.

“I’m so sorry,” she said over and over and he just looked at her. He reached his free hand up and she let go of his throat and wrapped her hands around his, kissing his knuckles,

He looked at her, blood spilling out his mouth and she sobbed. It wasn’t long after that he stopped choking on his blood and his head rolled to the side, eyes wide open.

She sat next to him, staring at him, then the blood on his body, and then the blood on her hands.

She got up and started to gather both of their belongings, apologizing to his dead body for taking his things. She was focused on putting the supplies together and processing Burke’s attack and Kristoff’s death that she didn’t hear the footsteps approaching the entrance of the cave or the person that grabbed her and slammed her head into the wall. The only thing she saw was darkness

She was being dragged. She could feel her arms on either side of her head and the snow coating the back of her sweater. It was smooth as she glided on top of the ground and when she opened her eyes she saw she was surrounded by trees and two males were holding her ankles as they walked forward. In the distance she could see a fire and smoke flowing to the sky and unintelligible voices. She closed her eyes and darkness took her once more.

She roused again to voices; they were closer and louder now and some were laughing. She was on her stomach, her head to the side and her face burned. She moaned and tried lifting it, but it felt heavy and she plopped it back down. It was snow that was making her face burn; frostbite was getting to her.

The voices stopped as she tried to move around and a few announced that she had “finally” woken up. Someone shushed them and they walked to her, kicking her side and rolling her over. She whined in protest. Her head was throbbing.

“About time you woke up sweetheart.” It was Stanis.

They were in a small clearing, surrounded by forest and a few boulders that the males were using as seats. They set her up against the trunk of a tree and tied her hands behind her with rope. Real rope. The males looked at her with wonder, like they had never seen a female before.

Probably haven’t even touched one either, Celestia thought.

Then the beating began. Sat on the ground and bound, Celestia had no choice but to accept every kick Stanis threw at her; her stomach, chest, and face were plummeted by his boots and she began to cry. The males around her encouraged his crusade of violence, saying that she deserved it and someone needed to teach her a lesson, that she was a female and would never have a place in the legion. This was all things she heard before and it just pissed her off. Soon after she didn’t even feel the kicks and she began to focus on the rope around her hands. The knot was done poorly and she started to move her wrist around, making the knot unstable and loose

Stanis took a break, his chest heaving with the exertion. With a grin he kicked snow in her face and she relished in the coolness. Her face and head were so hot.

With the knot unstable, she silently worked on getting her hands free. She played asleep, as the males drank and ate. These motherfuckers had ale. She was growing more angry. They were hunting her, they killed her friend, they had beaten her, and they were cheating. And for what? For being female and daring to be part of her people? She didn’t want to be like the other females in the camp who did chores all day, watching the festivities from their windows. She wanted to be a fighter; she wanted to be important.

The more angry she got, the heavier her breathing became until the males noticed.

“I think she wants more,” one of the males said, laughing.

Stanis laughed and he got up and made his way over, standing in front of her. He crouched and leaned close to her, his breath, stinking with ale, fanning her face.

He put his mouth next to her ear, brushing it with his lips and smiled. “You think that big bastard Cassian can fuck you good? I’m going to show you a real good time.”

She rolled her eyes; again with the Cassian allegations.

And that’s when she bit his ear off.

Stanis screeched as she latched onto his ear. He fell backwards and she went with him until the bottom of his ear detached and it was dangling in her mouth. She chuckled and spit it out, leaping on top of him, punching him over and over. She was reaching for the second wooden dagger she had in her pants when she was picked up and carried over to one of the boulders.

“Let me go! Get the fuck off of me!” She screamed and kicked at the two males holding her. She spit Stanis’ blood onto them and they flinched, flinging her against the boulder.

Stanis was still screaming, clutching the side of his head looking at Celestia in horror. All she did was give him a bloody grin.

The two males that had dragged Celestia away still stood next to her, holding her arms so she laid flat against the front of the rock. Some of the males went to help Stanis, covering his ear with snow and bandages. The rest sat in shocked silence, wide eyes moving between Stanis and Celestia.

After a few minutes, Stanis pushed the males surrounding him away and stalked towards her. He slapped her and when she started to laugh he slapped her again and again and again. She could barely feel it, she was laughing too hard.

“You fucking bitch,” he snarled, grabbing her by the throat and pulling her towards him.

Her only response was to spit blood in his face.

That set him off. With a look to the males standing on either side of her they let her go and he spun her around, pushing her into the rock. She collided with it, her feet giving way under her.

“Grab her,” he commanded.

With their arms, they held her arms and shoulders down. She struggled against them, throwing insults and threats to everyone around, but the sound of a belt unbuckling made her stop and the realization set in.

She looked over her shoulder and Stanis had his belt hanging loose and the buttons of his pants undone; she looked up at him, terror in her eyes and he just smirked.

He placed his forearm on the small of her back and with his other hand he jutted her hips out. Celestia started to scream in protest, the sound echoing through the trees making birds caw and fly away.

“Please,” she begged. Tears, blood and snot were covering her face and she began to hyperventilate. She couldn't move and she felt pressure on every inch of her body; she was trapped and had nowhere to go. He was going to defile her and she had no chance of escaping.

But still, she writhed in their grasps, screaming, pleading, and begging.

“I’ll do anything. Please don’t do this. I’m begging you.” She kept crying and for some reason she thought about Azriel.

The day she completed the trial he had pulled her to the side, his scarred hands were warm against her sweaty, wet face.

“If you get sent to the Rite,” he began, “horrible things might happen to you.” He held her face tighter and his hazel eyes were ablaze with something she couldn’t name. “But, that doesn’t diminish you. You have done great things and will do great things. Whatever happens to you does not define you.” He let go of her face and kept looking at her, his expression unreadable.

She just nodded, lost in his eyes.

The cold air against her bare ass shocked her and she came back to reality. Stanis had been able to pull her pants down slightly but as he began to lower them more, she kicked backwards hitting his shin. He yelped and grabbed her hair, yanking her head backwards.

“I’ve always wanted to do this, but you’ve always had your dogs around you. Tell me sweetheart: what do you do in that house alone with all those males? How many ways and times have they taken you?” He purred in her ear. He had his face next to her temple and she was able to swing her head to the side, slamming into his head.

He howled in pain and held his head in his hands. But before he could continue his assault, something plucked the male on her right up in the air and he was thrown across their makeshift camp, into a tree. His back collided with a crack and when he fell to the ground he didn’t get up.

Everyone began screaming as the offender made themselves known, jumping from the top of the boulder. It was a Suriel.

The Suriel went for the male on the left next who hadn’t moved and with a swipe of its bony hand, his entire neck fell out. The male had no time to react. Stanis was the first to run, but the Suriel ignored him, aiming for the rest of the group to its left. The Suriel moved quickly, almost like it was winnowing to male to male, slashing throats and guts until none remained standing.

At this point Celestia had gotten dressed again and was cowering against the boulder. She couldn’t run or hide; the Suriel would get her no matter what. In a brave attempt, Celestia, with shaky hands, grabbed her belongings near the tree she woke up by and sneaked her way in the opposite direction of the Suriel, avoiding all the dead bodies. The only one she looked at was Tym; the poor boy.

Before she could exit the clearing, she heard footsteps behind her. Accepting her fate she turned around and was face to face with the Suriel. She lifted her eyes to the Suriel whose bony teeth were now upturned into a smile. It nodded its head.

Celestia nodded back in appreciation. It had saved her life and was now letting her go. With a deep breath she turned around towards Ramiel.

“Girl,” the Suriel called out to her, its voice raspy.

Celestia stopped and turned around slowly.

“Listen to the shadows and hear their songs. They will sing for you for the rest of your life.” And then the Suriel vanished.

DAY FIVE

She ran through the night, only stopping once to eat and sleep. She refused to think about what had happened and what could still happen. She was lucky to be alive and she couldn’t even wrap her head around what the Suriel had done. She didn’t even know they were capable of that. The only thing she thought about was what it had said to her: listen to the shadows and hear their songs. They will sing for you for the rest of your life. She wasn’t sure what it meant. She had shadows, but only when her powers weren’t suppressed. Did the Suriel want her to express her powers all the time? Did she have other powers she wasn’t aware of?

She shook the questions away. If she didn’t stop thinking she would be stuck here forever or get the courage to trap it and ask what it meant. No, she couldn’t do that. She needed to reach the peak so she could go home.

Night became day and she continued towards the Pass. It was around three o’clock when she saw the bridge that connected the forest to Ramiel. She sighed in relief, leaning her head up to the sky; thank the gods.

The unfortunate part of the bridge was its location. There were no trees or brush to cover its location, so if she were to make her way to it she would be out in the open. It was early afternoon which meant that the warriors had already been making their way to the mountain and most had to be close or already on it. The Pass was the least taken route for it was difficult to climb and had no real, established path upwards. Cassian, Azriel, and Rhysand had taken it and told her the best way to climb it. She gripped her bow and set for the bridge.

She walked as quietly as she could, keeping her head on a swivel checking in all directions for enemies. Even though she saw none, she was still cautious. Her encounter with Stanis and his group were enough to never feel safe in these woods again and maybe even for the rest of her life.

No, she shook the thought away. Azriel said it wouldn’t define her so she wasn’t going to let it. It was a thing that happened and it was something that she survived. She was going to win and she was going to be fine.

She reached the bridge and looked behind her at the treeline, scanning for movement. Seeing none she turned back around and gingerly placed her foot on the bridge; it held. So, she walked, holding both rails. She was halfway across the bridge when an arrow whizzed past her head. She ducked, hitting the bridge and she could hear shouting behind her. She turned her head and saw Stanis and three males; they must’ve survived the attack.

She scrambled up and started running across the bridge, still holding on to the rails as the bridge swayed back and forth. Their voices were getting closer and more arrows were flying at her, but she kept running. If she stopped, then it would be over.

She had gotten to the other side when she got hit. She screamed as she fell forward, hitting the rocky ground. It was embedded in her shoulder. She got up and sat on her knees, peering behind her. It was jutting out and blood was beginning to trickle down her back and when she tried lifting her arm but it stung so bad she dropped it immediately. She looked at the males and they had stopped at the other side of the bridge and were watching her, grinning evilly. They were enjoying this.

She grunted as she snapped the bow, alleviating some of the pressure and got up. Giving them a vulgar gesture, she started up the mountain.

She knew they were following her and it scared her, but she didn’t stop. There were four of them and one of her, so the odds weren’t really in her favor but she couldn't think about it. The only advantage she had on her side was her size, but at the same time that was her biggest disadvantage. Again, she didn’t think about it. She was smaller than them and was a better climber, probably.

When she couldn't hear them anymore, she wedged herself into the side of the mountain and took a deep breath, leaning her head against the rock. She closed her eyes and swallowed. She let herself sit there for a minute, gathering her thoughts, feelings, and strength. She looked at her wound and blood was oozing out, but it was slow; that was good. She had time to reach the peak and go home without the risk of losing too much blood or getting an infection; she hoped at least.

She got up and resumed her expedition. The sun was starting to set and the wind on the mountain was picking up, bringing cold and snow. She had begun to slow down, exhaustion starting to take over. Her eyes were heavy and she kept stumbling, but she didn’t stop. She couldn’t stop, really. The four males weren’t far behind her; every now and then she could hear one of them laugh or groan at the exertion. If she stopped to rest they would surely find her and finish what Stanis had started. She shuddered at the thought.

Night fell and she could barely see. The sky was covered with big, thick clouds and she could barely see the moon. She stopped and closed her eyes, listening. She heard nothing, not even the crunch of snow or rocks being shifted, just the wind blowing around her face. Despite the cold, she was hot, sweating dripping down her face, sticking her thermal long sleeve to her back. It was then she made the decision to camp for the night.

DAY SIX

She woke again to the sun on her face. This time it was just peeking over the horizon and she was grateful she woke up early. She hoped the fools down below would sleep in. But she would be wrong.

A few hours later she could hear murmurs and pants and she silently cursed, turning around. A couple hundred feet away were Stanis and his puppets trying to figure out how to scale the small mountain wall that led to where she was. She became frantic; they must’ve walked through the night while she was asleep. She silently cursed herself again. She should've kept walking. She would’ve made it to the Pass by now and a few more hours would be the summit and onyx monolith: her ticket home. She began to jog, careful to avoid rocks and boulders hidden under the snow. They heard her footsteps and Stanis called out to her, promising to make her pay for what she did to his men.

She didn’t care if they could hear her. She just needed to get to the Pass.

Her jog came to a stop when she was faced with a mountain wall. She groaned and looked up; it was at least 50 feet tall. She turned around at the sound of feet stomping and saw the heads of the males as they made their way up the slope. She had no time to lose.

Moving her weapons around, she grabbed onto a ledge and then found her footing on another and started her climb. The ledges were small and brittle and she kept slipping and almost falling. Her nails were cracked and her hands were bleeding, but luckily she was halfway up the wall. The unlucky part was that the males had caught up to her and were beginning their ascendant. They kept calling out to her, throwing insults and threats like before, but she ignored them, keeping her focus on finding the right rock to grab.

One of the males was a better climber and as she neared the top he reached up and grabbed her ankle in an attempt to yank her down. She screeched and kicked him, trying to shake him off. He held on and continued trying to get her to slip her grip on the rock. She refused. She was fed up being hunted by these bloodthirsty idiots. With a swift kick, she hit him in his nose. He cursed and grabbed his nose, but the blood coating his hand loosened his grip and he fell. He fell 40 feet down, past Stanis and the remaining two males and hit a jagged rock. Celestia cringed, but kept moving.

She reached the top and whooped, pulling herself over. She laid in the snow for a moment, catching her breath and crying. She was so fucking tired. She rolled over and peered over the edge; Stanis and the three males were at least 15 feet away. She checked her arrow supply and found she only had one, so she knocked it into her bow and sat up on her knees, leaning over the edge.

She called out and the closest male looked up and caught an arrow in the eye. He fell 35 feet down.

Stanis and the remaining male roared in anger and began to climb faster. Celestia’s only response was to laugh.

She never liked killing like the other males in training, but she was saving her life. It needed to be done. She would grieve and reflect on her sins later.

It was late afternoon at this point and the sun was beginning to set. She only had a few more hours to reach the peak. She was so close.

As she kept going, she faced no more climbing adventures and she was glad for it. The gap between Stanis and the other male was close but she tried not to let it bother her. She was ahead and that was all that mattered.

By the time she reached the Pass the sun had set and it had begun to snow. Her hands were numb and they were beginning to burn with frostbite. She turned around and the males were still at her heels.

If the sun had just set, she thought, then that would make it around 6 o’clock which means I have 6 more hours to reach the summit. If I move fast with nobody following me I could make it in 5.

So, she pulled out her wooden dagger, and waited for Stanis and his friend.

They arrived in thirty minutes which meant Celestia had thirty minutes to kill them both and make it to the summit.

They looked winded when they saw her. She had time to relax and set her mind to what she wanted to do, but they were surprised to see her, waiting like a predator.

“Hello boys.” She smiled, waving her dagger.

They exchanged a look and then they attacked her.

She knew they would be hot headed. She either killed their friends or had them killed, so when they attacked she easily stepped to the side and took the male she didn’t know by the arm and threw him against a boulder. He yelled in pain but dropped to the floor. She moved quickly to push the knife into his throat Then, she turned to face Stanis who held his metal dagger in his hand.

“You didn't think I’d come prepared did you?” He said to her surprised expression at seeing a real weapon.

“I always knew you were a fucking cheat.” Then she went for him. They fought in tandem using their dagger and fists to fight one another. The only advantage she had on him was that she used her entire body to fight, not just her hands. She kicked and swiped at him, causing him to stumble every now and then. She started to tire. They had been fighting for too long and if this didn’t end soon she wasn’t going to make it to the peak.

She made the mistake of looking over her shoulder at the moon, trying to gauge what time it was, but Stanis punched her square in her jaw and she fell to the floor, the dagger sliding across the snow and over the edge of the mountain.

He pounced on her and began to hit her over and over; her face, stomach, and chest were his target practice. The arrow was digging into her shoulder more and she yelled in pain.

She fought back though, holding off his attacks and scratching at his face. With one hand she grabbed his wrist, keeping his arm suspended in the air and with the other she pushed her thumb into his eye until he bellowed and fell backwards, holding his eye.

“You’re a fucking freak just like your family!” He screamed, scooting backwards. He kept moving until his back hit a rock and his body stiffened and he went pale in the moonlight. By that point she had gotten up and retrieved the dagger he had dropped. She stalked towards him, her prey, and smiled, dropping to her knees so she could straddle him, their chests touching.

“Wanna know what I think a real good time looks like?” She purred, her lips grazing his remaining ear.

Stanis didn’t reply. He just looked at her wide eyed, terror filling his eyes like hers had and she just smirked at him like he had.

“This,” she grunted and drove the knife into his neck and dragged it across, nearly decapitating him.

He gasped and tried to grab at his throat, but she held his arms back. She watched as he bled to death, suffocating on his own blood. She got up and admired her work, cleaning the blade off with her sweater before stuffing it into her pants.

She spat on his body. “That’s for Kristoff you piece of shit.”

It was almost 8 o’clock by the time she resumed her trek up the mountain, the Pass and her victims behind her. She guessed she would reach the summit in the knick of time, but she was wrong. She would reach it with an hour to spare, setting the record for not just the fastest summit on Ramiel, but the first female to do so.

She was winnowed into the Commander’s tent at Windhaven. He was asleep when she got there, and his seconds, the ones who grabbed her a week ago, were also asleep. She cleared her throat and they woke up, their expressions turning into one of surprise when they saw her there, beaten, bloody, bruised, with an arrow sticking out of her shoulder.

They all looked at her for a few minutes, but she kept her eyes on the Commander. “This was your son’s. You’ll find him at the Pass of Enalius with his neck cut open. He put up a good fight. You should be proud, Commander.” Then she threw the dagger on the table and walked out of the tent to her house.

When she got back to the house, she found Rhysand, her mother, her uncle, Cassian, and Azriel passed out on the couch, the armchair, and the floor in the living room. They jumped up at the sound of the door closing and her kicking the snow off her boots.

“Oh my sweet girl,” her mother called out and ran to her, wrapping her arms around her. Even though the arrowhead was tearing further into her shoulder, she didn’t move. Her mother’s embrace was warm and comforting and she smelled like home. And as she rocked her back and forth, she began to cry.

Celestia woke up with a start, pushing her chair back and hitting the hearth behind her. She didn’t know where she was and she couldn't recognize the people around her. Everyone was looking at her, some were crying, but all had the same look in their eyes: fear, despair, pity, and sympathy.

She jumped when she connected with the hearth and pulled her dagger out from her leg pointing it at everyone. “What-” she began, but Rhysand grabbed her arm.

“It’s just us. You’re safe. You are not there.” His voice was calm and soft, like velvet. Like the blanket her mother had given her for her 12th birthday.

She looked at him, her eyes were crazed and her violet irises had been reduced to black pupils. She kept looking at him then around the room, panting. She was having a panic attack.

Rhysand repeated himself, trying to pull her towards him but she whimpered and shook her head, pulling back.

“Stop. Don’t touch me,” she was crying. “I have to go. Please,” she was sobbing now.

He let go and she made a break for the door, bumping into the couch and side table and then Azriel, who caught her by her elbows.

They locked eyes and his gaze was unlike the ones around her. It was soft and loving and there were hints of yearning. She could only gape up at him, tears streaking her cheeks.

“Do you need me?” He asked. His voice was hushed, but sincere.

He searched her eyes for an answer, but she gave him none. Instead she ran out of the room and up the stairs to her bedroom, slamming the door.

She clutched her chest and the panic continued to build. Her room was dark with a fire lit in the hearth and all she could think about was the night with Stanis in his camp and how it looked the same: dark with a fire.

She ran to the bathroom and threw up until it was just bile and then she sobbed, wishing she was in her mother’s embrace where she was warm and safe and happy.

#acotar #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #a writes #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #a court of mist and fury #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf #azriel x female!reader #azriel fanfic #azriel fanfiction #azriel x fem reader

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Text

Onset - Chapter One

Rating: Explicit Media: Jujutsu Kaisen/JJK Pairing: Geto Suguru x Original Female Character Characters: Geto Suguru, Valerie (OC) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Not Canon Compliant, Pre-Established Friendship, Geto and OC are roommates, Self-Insert, Smut, Penis in Vagina Sex, Creampie, Brief mention of an inability to get pregnant, Unprotected Sex, Cunnilingus, if I tagged everything we'd be here all day, This is part of a series

Part 3 of Sundane

Previous Part: Egg Fried Rice

Summary:

“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway.

“What?” He sits up, pulling his fingers out of her and nonchalantly bringing them to his mouth to suck her slick off of them. “We’ve been roommates for three years. You gonna pretend you’ve never heard me jerking off?” He raises an eyebrow at her when she peeks at him from between her fingers.

She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.

“So where are they?”

“Why do you want to know?”

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“Why my bedroom?”

She means for it to sound like a complaint, but her tone is not quite right. She’s more aroused than annoyed - embarrassingly so, she might admit if forced to - her words pointed in the direction of the ceiling because tilting her head that way is the best way to keep Suguru doing what he’s doing.

At the moment, he has his face buried in her neck, treating his lips and teeth and tongue to the taste of her skin and working on leaving what is sure to be an impressive family of hickeys come morning.

“Because,” he mumbles in between kisses, “your bed is more comfortable than mine.”

She knows he’s right; on more than one occasion she’s found him napping in her room. “I told you to get the pillow top mattress,” she laughs. “Now I bet you wish you had listened to me.”

He raises his head to look at her. “My mattress is the last thing on my mind right now.”

It’s a fair point. And while she may have set out to complain about where they’re doing what they’re doing, any further grousing she’s planned to do gets sidelined by the reality of what they’re doing. Hating the fact that she’s being so pragmatic about things, she tugs lightly on a handful of his hair to get his attention. “Suguru.”

“Hm.” He’s slid down her body to take a vested interest in tonguing her nipples through the thin fabric of her sports bra and is only half-listening.

“Suguru.” She says his name again, this time with slightly more urgency.

“What.” It’s not quite a whine, but it’s close enough, and she almost feels bad for interrupting when he’s clearly having as much fun as she is.

“Before we get too… distracted,” she huffs, trying to ignore the way he looks: hair disheveled, lips wet with spit, one hand on her hip and the other toying with the nipple he’s just taken his mouth off of as he looks up at her. “Do you have something? I… don’t. It’s been a while.”

Suguru makes a concerted effort to understand what she’s saying. When her meaning is clear, he shakes his head. “Don’t need it.” He lowers his mouth to her breast again, this time sliding her sports bra up and effectively removing the last barrier between her skin and his tongue.

“Wait,” she protests, even though she does nothing to stop him. She helps him along, in fact, by raising her arms above her head so he can slide the bra completely off of her body. “That’s---”

“Come on,” he interrupts her, right before making a little trail of kisses from the place under the swell of her breast to her navel. “Just once, I wanna go without. We’re both clean and I already know you can’t get pregnant, remember?” He grins up at her from where he’s come to rest between her thighs, his chin on her belly.

“You’re not wrong, but you didn’t have to say it that way,” she sighs. Despite her words, she widens her legs to let him settle himself more comfortably between them.

“Sorry,” he says, still grinning and sounding anything but apologetic as he relieves her of her shorts and the panties beneath them. “I’ll make it up to you.”

And he sets out to do just that.

She thinks it’s a little unfair how good Suguru is at what he’s doing, but it isn’t really a surprise. It’s as if he’s known all along what her favorite things are - the way he teases her entrance with the tip of his tongue, or the way he somehow just seems to know that wetting his finger and sliding it between the left side of her clit and her outer labia makes her produce some of the prettiest moans he’s ever heard. Suguru eats her out slowly and sloppily, letting his mouth do most of the work while he buries two fingers inside her so he can relish the feel of her tightening and pulsing around them.

She’s quiet, but he knows she likes it from the way she’s holding fistfuls of his hair, tugging his head this way and that to guide his mouth where she wants it. Suguru lets her, even though he knows those parts of his scalp are going to be sore when it’s all said and done.

Nor does he tell her that he’s only ever let one other person put their hands in his hair like this. He doesn’t know what she would make of that kind of admission anyway.

When she comes, he stills his fingers completely but doesn’t withdraw them. His mouth, however, keeps busy. He slows and softens his pace just enough to keep her in that place between post-orgasmic pleasantness and overstimulation, mouthing at all the spots he now knows she likes. She’s still twitching and fluttering around his fingers when he speaks. “Hey… where are your toys?”

“Toys?” She parrots the word, confused and still coming down from her high. “What toys?”

“You know what toys.” He grins up at her. “The ones I heard you using a few nights ago.”

“What the fuck, Suguru?” She knows her skin doesn’t flush red, but she raises her hands to cover her face anyway.

She silently and somewhat begrudgingly admits that he’s right.

“So where are they?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Why the fuck do you think I want to know?” He laughs. “I’d like to see what you’re used to.”

She uncovers her face and looks dubiously at him. She says nothing, instead simply motioning towards the drawer in her nightstand and watching him rummage through her colorful collection of toys.

“You can take this?” The ‘this’ in question is a dildo in his hand, the largest one she owns.

She nods.

Amused, he raises his eyebrows. “You like it?”

“Yes,” she snaps, embarrassment getting the better of her and making the word sound much more defensive than she intends it to. “Is that a problem?”

“Nope,” Suguru replies smugly. “Just means I don’t have to wonder whether or not mine can fit.”

She wants so badly to put him in his place, but one look at the way his cock springs free when he comes out of his bottoms shuts her mouth.

“What’s the matter?” He nudges his body between her open legs, her bottle of lube in one hand and his cock in the other. “Are you scared of it?” His words are teasing, as is the smile that pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“Of that? You wish,” she retorts with a roll of her eyes. “I was just wondering if you treat all the women you sleep with this shitty.” Even as her mouth forms the insult, she’s grateful for the way he liberally coats himself in lube.

“You think this is shitty?” He laughs, holding his cock between his thumb and forefinger and repeatedly slapping it against her still-sensitive clit. She bites back - just barely - the little noise of pleasure that threatens to escape her as he does so. “I’m giving you the princess treatment, if you really wanna know the truth.”

Anything she’s intending to say gets lost, swallowed by the feel of Suguru’s lips on hers and the head of his cock pushing at her entrance.

“Fuck,” he mumbles into her mouth, when he’s fully seated inside her. As good as he’s been imagining she would feel around him, the reality is that she feels even better. Suguru leans back to look down at her, making the mistake of meeting her eyes.

“Oh,” she says quietly. He doesn’t know what she sees in his expression to make her react that way, but whatever it is can’t be bad - she’s looking up at him with soft, gentle eyes.

He just might lose himself if he’s not careful.

Time to laugh it off. “Better than your best toy, right?” He pushes that smug undertone into his voice again.

He’s expecting a sharp response, something snarky and perhaps mildly insulting. What he gets instead is more of those soft, gentle eyes. She cups his face in her hands and brings his mouth to hers, kissing him in a way that feels much too intimate and romantic for the way he’s about to fuck her.

Suguru can’t figure out if it’s good or bad, and the uncertainty of it makes him want to crawl out of his skin.

He pulls his hips back, slamming them into her again hard enough to make him worry for a split second that he’s actually hurt her. The way she clenches around him and the little sound she makes is enough to put that fear to rest, and he takes her wrapping her arms around him as permission to keep going.

So he does.

He pounds into her hard, registering that he’s probably going too hard but not really able to stop himself. Tit for tat, he thinks, hissing as he feels her nails raking down his shoulders in a way that he’s sure will break the skin. Her hips rock up to meet his on every thrust, his balls slapping against her ass.

“Quit clawing at me like a damn bobcat,” he grunts between thrusts, his hair falling around her like silk and tickling her shoulders as he lowers his head to her neck. The retort that’s halfway out of her mouth dies on her lips when his teeth make contact with her skin. He wants to bite her hard enough for it to hurt, but his mouth and his brain are misaligned in their interests and he ends up sucking desperately at the place where her neck meets her shoulder.

“S-Sugu--ruuu,” she wails in a stuttering breath, and he feels a little bit vindicated because of it. She’s been so damn quiet, and that isn’t what he wants. He wants her loud. He wants her saying his name over and over like she’s praying to a god. He wants her drooling and stupid with her eyes rolled back in her head and her brain gone dumb as he gets her drunk on and addicted to the feeling of his cock.

He wants to completely unmake her.

The thought stabs him in the side with an unexplained pang of guilt, but he ignores it. “Still think it’s shitty, Valerie?” He pants, his breath warming the side of her face. “Still thinking about my cheap mattress and all that other unnecessary shit?”

She stares back up at him, and there it is: that glazed-over, fucked-out look he’s been waiting for.

She wonders if he can see the thoughts in her head… if he knows just how good it feels, how her sweat-slicked body is surrounding him in all the ways she can be. Her arms encircling his broad shoulders, her legs wrapped tightly around his hips, her pussy stretched and stuffed full of his cock. Suguru is bigger than her toy - she’s sure of it now - and she wonders absently if she will ever be satisfied with anything other than him for the rest of her life.

She isn’t sure what he’s reaching for when his hand leaves her side, and understanding of what’s in his hand when it returns doesn’t dawn on her until she feels the vibrations of it.

“Y-you,” is all she has time to get out before he works the little purple toy between their bodies to place it right up against her clit. He stills his hips, but it doesn’t blunt the vibrator’s effect on her. “That’s not fair,” she gasps, her voice pitched high and thin as her control slips.

��I’m just being a gentleman,” he laughs stiltedly. One look at him is all it takes for her to understand that his own control is slipping - he’s sweating too, tendrils of damp hair stuck to his face and his muscles taut with the effort to keep himself in check. “Yeah,” he says, as though she’s asked him a question. “So go ahead and come for me first… hm?”

Val hates that her body chooses that moment to do exactly that, her climax syncing with his words as though what he’s said is a command for her to obey. Suguru tosses the vibrator over the side of the bed, and she doesn’t have time to wonder whether or not its clattering fall to the floor has broken it before his lips are on hers, tongue bullying its way into her mouth much the same way his cock is bullying its way in and out of her spasming walls.

He doesn’t pull out of her when he comes, just pushes into her as deep as he can and buries his teeth in the tender flesh of her left breast. The bite is more pleasurable than painful. Still, she lets out a little yelp that prompts him to drag his lips across the spot, soothing it with his tongue.

The two of them stay as they are for a few minutes after, chests rising and falling in tandem as they try to catch their breath. She threads her fingers through his hair, apologizing to him without words for all the places she’s yanked at it and massaging his scalp to alleviate the soreness.

He slips out of her and she tries not to wince, but her thighs are achy from being pushed open so wide and for so long. “Okay… I guess I need to add more flexibility training to my weekly rotation,” she manages with a laugh. Suguru doesn’t respond. His gaze is trained between her legs, and he’s got two fingers pressed against her pussy, gently prodding at her. “Suguru… what are you doing?”

“Putting the cream back in the pie,” he murmurs. He watches his cum leak out of her, catching it with those same two fingers and pushing it back inside of her. There’s no pang of guilt in his side anymore, but the feeling that has replaced it is something he’s only ever felt a variation of, and not in a long time.

It feels… almost proprietary, seeing a part of him leaking out of her. It speaks to something long-forgotten inside of him, that urge to stuff it all back into her body and to keep that piece of him there with her.

Valerie is about to tell him how bad his joke was when she catches sight of the expression on his face. She gets the sense that while what Suguru has said was meant to sound like a joke, the meaning behind what he’s doing isn’t lighthearted at all. So she keeps quiet, letting him continue what he’s doing and feeling the warmth radiate off of his body as she plays in his hair.

“So,” Suguru finally says, raising his head and resting his cheek against her abdomen so he can look at her over the swell of her breast. “How was your rebound fuck?”

It makes her laugh, even though she feels the need to set him straight about it. “It wasn’t a rebound fuck,” she says, when she’s stopped chuckling. “Rebound fucks usually happen pretty quickly after a breakup, you know.”

“Damn, that’s disappointing,” he teases her, even as he curls his arms around her waist and leans into the gentle touch of her fingertips on his sore scalp. “I wanted to be able to put that on my resume. If I’m not your rebound fuck, then what was I?”

Val is quiet for a minute, still soothing his scalp in all the places she’d pulled too hard at his hair. “Not to stroke your ego or anything, but you were pretty fucking amazing,” she admits. “I take back what I said about it being shitty,” she adds with a smile. “So now I’ll ask you again: do you treat all the women you take to bed this way?”

She asks the question, not really wanting to know the answer but feeling like it’s important to ask anyway.

“Yeah,” he answers after a moment. “It doesn’t hurt to make them feel special, even if they’re not.”

She doesn’t know how to feel about that, so she tucks the ambiguity of her emotions away and stays quiet.

Chapter Two: Coming Soon

If you would like to be tagged in updates to this work or my other fics, please let me know. :)

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