urmommysfavkisserrr

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

why is this flopping ☹️☹️

Meddle About.

🎸 - Clara Alexandrova x Serena Van Doren (femoc)

🎸 - Serena was just a girl with generational rage in her blood and no will to live. She lived in the dark, taking risks every day just to be able to feel something and numb the fire that burned in her soul. Till she met a girl who lived in the light and held the key to calm Serena’s soul.

🎸 - I wrote a pt 2 for this but if this fic ends up flopping i'm scrapping it so

🎸 - 3873 words

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

Clara was in a band. 

LöLä. 

She sang and played guitar along with her bandmates, Josh, Michael, and Luke.

One evening, they were performing at some local out-of-town bar just for the hell of it while they were on a mini ‘mental health’ trip. 

The performance went well, and afterwards, Luke, bless his soul, randomly introduced the rest of the band to this friend of his that had randomly appeared, Eddie, or Edward Bonavich. World-famous motorcyclist and main drummer of an underground band called ‘Velvet Rush’. 

“Eddie! My man, what's up?”

Eddie chuckled as he approached the group. He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, a casual gesture that exuded confidence. His gaze landed on Clara. “Hey, Luke. Hey everyone."

The rest of the group exchanged greetings, but Clara's eyes remained on Eddie. There was something about him that was undeniably attractive. That was until she saw the woman walking up beside him.

If he was hot, then she was a goddamn goddess.

A tall brunette appeared next to Eddie in an outfit that left little to the imagination but also hugged everything just right, as the biker slung an arm around her bare shoulders before looking back at the others. “Shit, sorry ya’ll. This is Serena. She rides with the group sometimes.”

The girl smiled, eyes bright and full of life. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you all. Luke and Eddie talk about you all the time."

Clara raised an eyebrow, smirking as she wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Oh shit, so you're the mysterious one they won't shut up about," she said, voice playful and low. She leaned forward slightly, guitar still slung over her shoulder.

"Please tell me you at least have dirt on these two losers. I need something to blackmail Eddie with after he stole my last cigarette."

The girl laughed. Warm, soothing, comforting. "I definitely do."

Clara's smirk widened as she took in the girl's laugh. It was warm and comforting. Jesus, she could listen to it for hours. Clara let her gaze roam over Serena for a moment, taking in Serena's appearance and demeanor.

"Serena, Right?" she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue in a soft murmur. She extended a hand to shake Serena's, her grip firm and friendly. "Pleasure to meet you."

She accepted it. plams rough and calloused. "It is. Clara, I assume?"

Clara couldn't help but note the calluses on Serena's palm as they shook. It was a subtle detail, but it told a story. 

This girl worked with her hands, no doubt about it. Clara nodded, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "Yeah, that's me. Lead singer and guitar player of LöLä."

Serena softly tilted her head as her hand fell back to her side. "I'm sure you're much more than that.”

Clara's eyebrows shot up in playful surprise, her smile widening as she chuckled.

"Oh, really now?" she said, her tone a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

She leaned casually against her guitar, studying Serena with a mixture of interest and challenge in her gaze.

"Everybody has a story. It's just a matter of what chapters you read aloud." 

Clara's smile softened at Serena's words, a small nod of acknowledgment following. Damn, this girl was wise. Clara tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Serena as she considered Serena's words. "That's... incredibly accurate and philosophical."

She ran a hand through her hair, still damp from the stage sweat. "And here I thought you were just another pretty face," she teased.

Serena’s bottom lip got tugged into her mouth by her teeth as her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment. "Well, thank you, but I've been told I think things over a little too much."

Clara laughed, a bright, genuine sound that cut through the bar’s low hum. "Overthinker? Me too. Usually, while staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering why I said ‘fuck’ instead of ‘thank you’ during the encore."

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like they were sharing secrets. "Best kind of people, honestly."

Serena’s lips curled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry, am I keeping you from your friends?"

Clara followed Serena's gaze to the band, then waved a dismissive hand. "Please. Josh is busy arguing with Michael about whether ‘Backwards Blue’ counts as a ballad, and Luke’s probably flirting with the bartender again."

She turned fully toward Serena, resting her weight on one hip. "If anything, you’re saving me from secondhand embarrassment. So thank you, overthinker." Her smile was warm—teasing, but real this time.

"Yeah"

Clara observed Serena for a moment, noticing Serena's short response. She tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised. "You okay there?"

The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable, and her expression was relaxed and friendly. She genuinely wanted to know.

"Hm?"

Clara raised an eyebrow, not believing Serena for a second. She crossed her arms, her gaze scrutinizing Serena. "You just went from witty and smart-mouthed to one-word answers. What's up in that head of yours, overthinker? Something bothering you?"

Her lips immediately curled, that smile coming right back. "Oh, no, no. I'm okay. Just overthinking." 

Clara snorted, shaking her head with a smirk. "Ah, classic move. Hide behind the joke like it’s armor." She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "But I saw that little flicker, Serena. Don’t think I didn’t."

Then she straightened up, shrugging her guitar strap higher on her shoulder. "Look, if you ever wanna talk—about anything—I’ve got ears. And wine. And a cat who judges everyone equally." A wink followed that last part.

"Now," she said brightly, clapping her hands once, "wanna hear something stupid Josh said onstage tonight?"

Serena’s eyes almost instantly filled with relief. "Please"

Clara grinned, eyes lighting up. She leaned in conspiratorially. "So, during the last chorus of Bones, Josh—our drummer, the human golden retriever—shouts into the mic, ‘Y’ALL MAKIN’ ME SO HARD RIGHT NOW!’"

She paused for effect, watching Serena's face. 

When Serena gasped-laughed, she cackled. "I KNOW. The crowd went silent. Michael dropped a stick. Luke nearly fell off his stool." She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. "We’re never letting him live it down."

Then she added with a smirk: "Also, pretty sure that’s our first public confession of attraction to the audience."

The brunette’s head cocked to the side, a soft but sharp smile on her lips. "Well...Luke has mentioned that Josh is a special one."

Clara burst out laughing, slapping her thigh. "Special is an understatement. He may have a degree in astrophysics, but he still trips over his own feet. God bless him."

She shook her head, grinning. "He's the human definition of contradiction, and I love that dumbass."

“That's sweet," Serena murmured. “Not that he’s an idiot, but that you guys all care about him like that.”

Clara nodded, her smile softening. "He's a good guy. A bit… out there, but good."

She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on Serena for a beat. "So, you said Luke and Eddie talk about me all the time?" she said conversationally, raising an eyebrow. "Anything too embarrassing?"

Her head immediately shook, smile softening. "No, no, just mostly in passing. Like if Luke is venting about a bad rehearsal, or too high to focus and tells us the same dumb story for the 20th time."

Clara gave a hearty chuckle at that. "Oh, that tracks. Those two together are either the funniest or the most chaotic duo around."

She smirked, crossing her arms. "And the dumb story is probably something stupid and harmless. Like the time Luke got high and thought his guitar was the love of his life."

"nah, he keeps telling the one where he kissed you."

Clara's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in mock horror. "Oh my god. That fucker—" 

She burst into laughter, shaking her head. "That was one time! One drunken New Year’s kiss and suddenly it’s lore?"

She wiped at the corner of her eye, still giggling. "I swear, if he keeps spinning that into some epic romance tale… I’m telling everyone about the time he cried during a McDonald’s commercial."

Then she leaned in with a grin. "But hey… between you and me? Best New Year’s kiss I’ve had in Canada." 

Wink included.

She didn't react much, just shrugged. "He's okay."

Clara noted the lack of reaction, a curious eyebrow raising. "Just... okay?" she repeated, her voice playful. "Luke is my best friend, but he can be a lot. Loud, reckless, a bit oblivious…" 

She smirked. "You're the first person I've ever met who just shrugged and called him 'okay'."

"I meant kissing wise"

Now, that was an unexpected reply. Clara's initial surprise melted into a smirk, her gaze sharpening. She crossed her arms, eyeing Serena shrewdly. "And how do you know what kissing Luke is like?" she prompted, her tone teasing yet pointed.

She'd just met Serena, but a small part of her was curious—and not entirely unaffected by the implication that Serena had kissed her best friend.

The girl shrugged, eyes dancing around the small bar as she spoke."We were drunk. It was late, we were out at some racing event to Eddie, plus he got us VIP passes, so… win-win."

Clara's smirk widened, the pieces clicking into place. "Ahhh, the classic 'drunken kiss at a racing event' cliché." She nodded, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "And just to clarify, were you drunk too?"

The whole situation was kind of amusing, she had to admit. But still, the competitive side in her couldn't help but feel a pinch of… jealousy?

"absolutely plastered."

Clara's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Plastered." That was not what she was expecting. She laughed, amused by the image of Serena—the seemingly reserved, thoughtful girl—drunk off her ass.

"You, a lightweight?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "I would have put money on you being the type to nurse one beer all night."

Serena’s glossed lips parted to speak, but before she could, Eddie's voice slid in with a heavy slur. His hand clamped over Serena’s shoulder. "Nah, Ro here could out-drink us all on a good day."

He leaned closer to Clara like it was a secret. "She's Greek"

Clara let out a short, delighted laugh, shaking her head as she looked Serena up and down with newfound respect. "Oh shit. A Greek wildcard? Now I definitely underestimated you."

She smirked, stepping slightly closer. "So all this 'overthinking,' deep-voiced wisdom was just the calm before the storm. You’re one of those people who wait until round three to start breakdancing on tables."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I like it."

Serena scoffed, guiding Eddie’s hand off her shoulder as she turned to face him. Her hands busied themselves by fixing the man's jacket and checking to make sure he still had all of his important belongings on him. "Okay- Eddie, I'm calling you a cab."

Eddie pouted, clearly disappointed with the end of the fun. "You're no fun." He looked like a puppy being denied extra treats.

Clara, meanwhile, was trying not to laugh. She had a feeling Eddie gave Serena plenty of headaches even when he was completely sober. "I think a cab's a good idea, mate."

After that troublemaker was loaded into a cab back to his apartment, and the other three idiots were accounted for, Serena made her way to the bar.

She leaned over the smooth wood, bent enough at the hips where her dress slid up just a little. Enough to show off. Her nails tapped softly against the wood as she waited, eyes scanning over the various bottles and pictures lining the wall behind the bar.

The bartender, a middle-aged woman with dulled eyes, harsh lines on her face, and a forced smile, finished serving another customer and made her way to Serena.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one," she said with a friendly smile, her gaze taking in Serena's dress and appearance. "What can I get you, hon?"

Serena smiled back, soft and compassionate. "You got bourbon?"

The bartender nodded, reaching for a bottle behind her. "We've got three kinds—Knob Creek, Buffalo Trace, or Wild Turkey. You want it neat, on the rocks... or in something cute with an umbrella?" She winked.

Clara appeared beside Serena suddenly, hopping onto a barstool with a grin.

"Ooooh," she teased, nudging Serena’s elbow. "Bourbon. Strong choice for someone who ‘overthinks.’ You tryna impress me?"

"Knob. On the Rocks, please," Serenea nodded to the bartender before glancing over her shoulder at the other girl. Not moving her position an inch. "You stalking me now?"

The bartender busied herself mixing Serena a bourbon on the rocks.

Clara raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Stalking? Me?" She scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Please. I just have a sixth sense for where the pretty people are."

She smirked, leaning forward on the bar so their shoulders were almost touching.

"And besides, you're the one lingering over the bar like that."

"Like what?"

Clara shrugged, tilting her head to look at Serena through her eyelashes. "You know. Leaned forward in that dress, all… flexible."

There was a playful tease in her voice that was entirely intentional, and she made no effort to hide it. "If I didn't know better, I might think you're trying to catch someone's attention."

She shrugged a little, rubbing a finger around the rim of her glass after it was placed in front of her. "Maybe I am." 

Clara's smirk widened, her eyes glittering at the subtle admission. She scooted a bit closer, enjoying the banter.

"Oh, really?" she drawled, drawing out the words. "And who's the unfortunate soul you're attempting to ensnare with your… charming flexibility and impressive bourbon order?"

The brunette shrugged. "Anyone really. Someone dumb and drunk enough, but decent enough to look at for a few hours." 

Clara's lips twitched with amusement at the matter-of-fact answer. "Ah, the classic 'good enough for tonight but forgettable by daybreak' strategy, huh?"

She leaned back a little, pretending to analyze Serena from head to toe. "Decent enough to look at, though? Pretty sure you could pull more than 'decent' if you tried."

Serena hummed, lips pursed as she looked down at her drink. 

Clara smirked, swirling the beer in her hand like she was contemplating something deeply. "You're awfully quiet for someone who just admitted to hunting dumb, drunk company." Her voice dropped a notch—smooth, teasing. "Unless you already found what you're looking for… and are just waiting for her to catch on?"

She held Serena's gaze, unblinking. Playful challenge in her blue eyes.

Serena understood the meaning behind Clara’s words. She really did, but not a single bone in her body would let her give in that easily. "I mean, the girl over there in the mini skirt isn't half bad."

A short laugh burst from Clara's lips. "Mini skirt, huh?"

She turned, subtly following Serena's gaze. Sure enough, there was a girl across the bar in a skirt that barely covered anything.

Clara turned back with a smirk. "You're right. Not half bad."

She took a sip of beer, eyeing Serena over the glass. "You thinking of trying your luck?" There was that edge of competitiveness again. The unspoken dare.

Serena didn't say a single word. She just stood up straight off the bar, downed the rest of her drink, put the glass down, and was on her way across the room without an ounce of hesitation in her mind.

°•☆•°

Not even five minutes later, Serena was walking back to the bar with a sharp crease in her brows and a knot in her shoulders. She ordered another drink and downed it like the browned liquid was just water. Like it would do something to ease the rising fire in her chest.

Clara watched the entire scene unfold from her barstool, her gaze keen and observant. She saw Serena approach the girl, saw the interaction, and saw the results.

When Serena returned to the bar, her shoulders a little more taut and brow furrowed, Clara raised an eyebrow. She waited until Serena downed her drink before speaking.

"Didn't pan out, I take it?" Her tone was light and casual, but there was a subtle edge of satisfaction.

"She's a fucking pillow princess. Didn't even know what to touch." Serena hissed over the edge of her glass, eyes narrowed and locked into the smooth wood of the bar.

Clara choked on her beer, barely managing to turn it into a cough. She leaned against the bar, wheezing as she tried to pull herself together.

"Oh my god." She was trying so hard not to laugh. "A pillow princess. You're killing me, you know that?"

The Greek girl just rolled her eyes and downed another glass like it was water before waving for another.

Clara grabbed Serena’s wrist before she could signal for another drink, her grip firm but not unkind. "Whoa, easy there, Greek god of alcohol. You’re gonna turn into a bourbon ghost at this rate."

She leaned in, voice low and playful. "Besides… if you wanted someone who actually knows what to do with their hands," she said slowly, thumb brushing over Serena’s pulse point before letting go, "you should’ve just asked me."

Her eyes flickered to the Canadian, narrowing but not speaking yet.

Clara met Serena's gaze evenly, her smirk unfazed. She could tell she'd caught the other girl off guard, but she didn't shy away from it.

"I'm just saying," she continued nonchalantly, taking a slow sip of her beer. "You can spend the whole night chasing someone who can't even figure out how to touch you—" She raised an eyebrow. "Or you could have a hell of a lot more fun with me."

The words hung in the air between them, suggestive and confident.

"Why?"

Clara shrugged, casually leaning against the bar as if they were discussing the weather and not potential hook-ups.

"Why?" she echoed, tilting her head, her blue eyes never leaving Serena's. "Well, for one, I know what to do with my hands."

A smirk played on her lips, challenging the tension. "And for another, why the hell not?"

"You just met me," Serena mumbled, popping out one hip to lean against the bar as she turned to face Clara head-on.

"And?" Clara raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You were about to hook up with someone you just met, too, weren't you?"

Leaning forward a bit, she added, voice low and confident, "At least with me, you know you're getting quality over… whatever that girl offered."

"Thigh kisses," Serena grumbled into her glass as she took a sip.

Her gaze turned heated, voice dropping to something slower, more deliberate. "With me? You'd get a lot more than just thigh kisses. Unless… that's your thing? 'Cause I can do that too. Just say the word."

Serena narrowed her eyes. Not harsh, but observing. "..what's the catch?"

Clara leaned an elbow on the bar, studying Serena with a smirk. "You're a suspicious one, aren't you?"

She took a slow sip of beer, considering Serena's question. 

"No catch," she said finally, setting the glass down. "No strings. Just a night where we both have a good time, and tomorrow we go about our lives."

Her tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Challenge and desire, mixed seamlessly. "Interested?"

Serena hesitated, then put her drink down onto the bar counter and turned to face Clara fully once again. “Are you sure that's a good idea? Being seen leaving with someone like me?" 

Clara's smirk only widened at that. "Like you?"

She looked Serena up and down, eyes roaming over Serena's appearance. "You mean a tall, attractive, confident woman in a killer dress?"

Taking another sip of beer, she met Serena's gaze head-on. "Honey, I think being seen leaving with you would make all the right heads turn."

The Greek huffed. "I'm me, though, and you're you."

Clara's smirk softened into a small, knowing smile. She could see where this was going. "And what's that supposed to mean? That I'm some stuck-up, self-centered rock star and you're just… you?"

She leaned a bit closer, the distance between them shrinking. "Or is this just classic 'I'm not good enough for the famous rock star' self-pity talk?" She arched an eyebrow, tone gentle but firm. "Because I call bullshit, Serena."

"I am just a girl. I mean, sure, sometimes I fight, or drive with Eddie, but I mean, does that really count for something?" 

Clara tilted her head, studying Serena with a quiet intensity. "Just a girl?" She let out a soft laugh, not mocking—amused. "You think wrestling and tearing down highways with Eddie Bonavich makes you 'just' anything?"

She leaned in, voice low and smooth. "Sweetheart, most rock stars I know wouldn’t last five minutes in the ring or on the track. You’re built differently."

Her gaze held Serena's, unflinching. "And for the record? I don’t care about fame when I’m deciding who to kiss." Her lips curled into a slow smirk. "The only thing that matters is if they can keep up."

"You're dangerous."

Clara's smirk widened, a hint of predatory satisfaction in her eyes. She liked that. A lot.

"Dangerous, huh?" she echoed, taking another deliberate sip of beer without breaking eye contact. "Most girls say 'bold' or 'confident' or 'sexy'. You chose 'dangerous.'"

She set her beer down, leaning closer. "Careful, or you're going to make me think you have a thing for bad choices."

The brunette hummed. “You haven't met me yet, Alexandrova."

Clara’s grin turned slow, wicked—like she’d been waiting for this. "Oh, I have met you," she murmured, voice low and teasing. "Black hair down your back like a damn curse. Greek fire in your blood. You wrestle for sport and kiss strangers at racing events like it means nothing."

She leaned in until her breath ghosted Serena's ear. "You walk into a bar, order bourbon like a challenge, get rejected by some amateur—and instead of sulking? You come back here with that storm in your eyes like you’re ready to start a war."

Then she pulled back just enough to catch the brunette's gaze. "Dangerous isn’t even the half of it."

Serena huffed through her nose, jaw twitching as she thought it all over. This could either be everything she’s ever needed, or it could start a war and leave everything to come crashing down in an avalanche of her life.

She picked up her glass, taking a small sip without breaking contact with Clara’s gaze before downing the rest of her drink and putting it back down. "Fine, one night. We don't tell anybody."

Clara smirked, slow and satisfied. "One night," she agreed, holding Serena's gaze. "No names. No stories. Just us—off the record."

She slid off the barstool with a fluid motion, grabbing her jacket from the back of it. 

"Come on, Serena," she said over her shoulder, voice low and inviting. "Let's go make some very bad decisions."

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Gasoline & Champagne — Daniela.Avanzini

SYNOPSIS ::: Daniela Avanzini is the definition of untouchable — the sharp-tongued heiress of an old-money family, wrapped in designer silk and arrogance. She’s used to the world bending for her, to people fawning over every step she takes. That is, until her luxury car breaks down, and she finds herself at the mercy of a local dealership — and its unapologetically blunt, grease-stained niece.

You’re everything Daniela isn’t: grounded, practical, and completely unimpressed by her money or her attitude. From the moment you trade barbed words in the garage, a fire is lit between you — one fueled by banter, jealousy, and the undeniable tension of opposites colliding.

What starts as arguments and disdain slowly unravels into something neither of you can control. Daniela finds herself drawn to your authenticity, while you discover the vulnerable, hidden side beneath her designer armor. Between stolen glances, heated encounters in back rooms and wine cellars, and the storm of her family’s disapproval, you both fight against the odds — and each other.

PARING ::: Daniela Avanzini (mean rich girl / high-class heiress) x Car dealer’s niece (g!p masc reader)

WARNING ::: Enemies to lovers, slow burn, mean rich girl, class differences, jealousy, banter, power dynamics, light angst, family pressure, explicit sexual content (g!p reader), semi-public sex, raw emotional intimacy, protective themes, light possessiveness, eventual softness, HEA-ish

CHARACTER PF ::: Daniela.Avanzini & Y/N ( You )

TAGLIST ::: @futureheartstour @whatsgoignojn @s1llygo0s3 @wwwlpgs @macsmadness @gablmk @ilikegirlsinred @fandomhopper-shit

( Apply in the comments below. )

Part one ::: ??? Part six ::: ???

Part two ::: ??? Part seven ::: ???

Part three ::: ??? Part eight ::: ???

Part four ::: ??? Part nine ::: ???

Part five ::: ??? Part ten ::: ???

@blosmie

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Meddle About.

🎸 - Clara Alexandrova x Serena Van Doren (femoc)

🎸 - Serena was just a girl with generational rage in her blood and no will to live. She lived in the dark, taking risks every day just to be able to feel something and numb the fire that burned in her soul. Till she met a girl who lived in the light and held the key to calm Serena’s soul.

🎸 - I wrote a pt 2 for this but if this fic ends up flopping i'm scrapping it so

🎸 - 3873 words

Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

Now Playing: Meddle About - Chase Atlantic.

Clara was in a band. 

LöLä. 

She sang and played guitar along with her bandmates, Josh, Michael, and Luke.

One evening, they were performing at some local out-of-town bar just for the hell of it while they were on a mini ‘mental health’ trip. 

The performance went well, and afterwards, Luke, bless his soul, randomly introduced the rest of the band to this friend of his that had randomly appeared, Eddie, or Edward Bonavich. World-famous motorcyclist and main drummer of an underground band called ‘Velvet Rush’. 

“Eddie! My man, what's up?”

Eddie chuckled as he approached the group. He ran a hand through his tousled brown hair, a casual gesture that exuded confidence. His gaze landed on Clara. “Hey, Luke. Hey everyone."

The rest of the group exchanged greetings, but Clara's eyes remained on Eddie. There was something about him that was undeniably attractive. That was until she saw the woman walking up beside him.

If he was hot, then she was a goddamn goddess.

A tall brunette appeared next to Eddie in an outfit that left little to the imagination but also hugged everything just right, as the biker slung an arm around her bare shoulders before looking back at the others. “Shit, sorry ya’ll. This is Serena. She rides with the group sometimes.”

The girl smiled, eyes bright and full of life. "Hi, it's so nice to finally meet you all. Luke and Eddie talk about you all the time."

Clara raised an eyebrow, smirking as she wiped a bit of sweat from her forehead with the back of her hand.

"Oh shit, so you're the mysterious one they won't shut up about," she said, voice playful and low. She leaned forward slightly, guitar still slung over her shoulder.

"Please tell me you at least have dirt on these two losers. I need something to blackmail Eddie with after he stole my last cigarette."

The girl laughed. Warm, soothing, comforting. "I definitely do."

Clara's smirk widened as she took in the girl's laugh. It was warm and comforting. Jesus, she could listen to it for hours. Clara let her gaze roam over Serena for a moment, taking in Serena's appearance and demeanor.

"Serena, Right?" she repeated, the name rolling off her tongue in a soft murmur. She extended a hand to shake Serena's, her grip firm and friendly. "Pleasure to meet you."

She accepted it. plams rough and calloused. "It is. Clara, I assume?"

Clara couldn't help but note the calluses on Serena's palm as they shook. It was a subtle detail, but it told a story. 

This girl worked with her hands, no doubt about it. Clara nodded, her smirk softening into a more genuine smile. "Yeah, that's me. Lead singer and guitar player of LöLä."

Serena softly tilted her head as her hand fell back to her side. "I'm sure you're much more than that.”

Clara's eyebrows shot up in playful surprise, her smile widening as she chuckled.

"Oh, really now?" she said, her tone a mixture of amusement and curiosity. "And what makes you so sure of that?"

She leaned casually against her guitar, studying Serena with a mixture of interest and challenge in her gaze.

"Everybody has a story. It's just a matter of what chapters you read aloud." 

Clara's smile softened at Serena's words, a small nod of acknowledgment following. Damn, this girl was wise. Clara tilted her head slightly, her gaze lingering on Serena as she considered Serena's words. "That's... incredibly accurate and philosophical."

She ran a hand through her hair, still damp from the stage sweat. "And here I thought you were just another pretty face," she teased.

Serena’s bottom lip got tugged into her mouth by her teeth as her gaze dropped to the floor for a moment. "Well, thank you, but I've been told I think things over a little too much."

Clara laughed, a bright, genuine sound that cut through the bar’s low hum. "Overthinker? Me too. Usually, while staring at the ceiling at 3 a.m., wondering why I said ‘fuck’ instead of ‘thank you’ during the encore."

She leaned in slightly, lowering her voice like they were sharing secrets. "Best kind of people, honestly."

Serena’s lips curled softly, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Sorry, am I keeping you from your friends?"

Clara followed Serena's gaze to the band, then waved a dismissive hand. "Please. Josh is busy arguing with Michael about whether ‘Backwards Blue’ counts as a ballad, and Luke’s probably flirting with the bartender again."

She turned fully toward Serena, resting her weight on one hip. "If anything, you’re saving me from secondhand embarrassment. So thank you, overthinker." Her smile was warm—teasing, but real this time.

"Yeah"

Clara observed Serena for a moment, noticing Serena's short response. She tilted her head slightly, eyebrows raised. "You okay there?"

The sincerity in her voice was unmistakable, and her expression was relaxed and friendly. She genuinely wanted to know.

"Hm?"

Clara raised an eyebrow, not believing Serena for a second. She crossed her arms, her gaze scrutinizing Serena. "You just went from witty and smart-mouthed to one-word answers. What's up in that head of yours, overthinker? Something bothering you?"

Her lips immediately curled, that smile coming right back. "Oh, no, no. I'm okay. Just overthinking." 

Clara snorted, shaking her head with a smirk. "Ah, classic move. Hide behind the joke like it’s armor." She leaned in slightly, voice dropping to a playful whisper. "But I saw that little flicker, Serena. Don’t think I didn’t."

Then she straightened up, shrugging her guitar strap higher on her shoulder. "Look, if you ever wanna talk—about anything—I’ve got ears. And wine. And a cat who judges everyone equally." A wink followed that last part.

"Now," she said brightly, clapping her hands once, "wanna hear something stupid Josh said onstage tonight?"

Serena’s eyes almost instantly filled with relief. "Please"

Clara grinned, eyes lighting up. She leaned in conspiratorially. "So, during the last chorus of Bones, Josh—our drummer, the human golden retriever—shouts into the mic, ‘Y’ALL MAKIN’ ME SO HARD RIGHT NOW!’"

She paused for effect, watching Serena's face. 

When Serena gasped-laughed, she cackled. "I KNOW. The crowd went silent. Michael dropped a stick. Luke nearly fell off his stool." She wiped an imaginary tear from her eye. "We’re never letting him live it down."

Then she added with a smirk: "Also, pretty sure that’s our first public confession of attraction to the audience."

The brunette’s head cocked to the side, a soft but sharp smile on her lips. "Well...Luke has mentioned that Josh is a special one."

Clara burst out laughing, slapping her thigh. "Special is an understatement. He may have a degree in astrophysics, but he still trips over his own feet. God bless him."

She shook her head, grinning. "He's the human definition of contradiction, and I love that dumbass."

“That's sweet," Serena murmured. “Not that he’s an idiot, but that you guys all care about him like that.”

Clara nodded, her smile softening. "He's a good guy. A bit… out there, but good."

She tilted her head, her gaze lingering on Serena for a beat. "So, you said Luke and Eddie talk about me all the time?" she said conversationally, raising an eyebrow. "Anything too embarrassing?"

Her head immediately shook, smile softening. "No, no, just mostly in passing. Like if Luke is venting about a bad rehearsal, or too high to focus and tells us the same dumb story for the 20th time."

Clara gave a hearty chuckle at that. "Oh, that tracks. Those two together are either the funniest or the most chaotic duo around."

She smirked, crossing her arms. "And the dumb story is probably something stupid and harmless. Like the time Luke got high and thought his guitar was the love of his life."

"nah, he keeps telling the one where he kissed you."

Clara's eyes widened, her mouth dropping open in mock horror. "Oh my god. That fucker—" 

She burst into laughter, shaking her head. "That was one time! One drunken New Year’s kiss and suddenly it’s lore?"

She wiped at the corner of her eye, still giggling. "I swear, if he keeps spinning that into some epic romance tale… I’m telling everyone about the time he cried during a McDonald’s commercial."

Then she leaned in with a grin. "But hey… between you and me? Best New Year’s kiss I’ve had in Canada." 

Wink included.

She didn't react much, just shrugged. "He's okay."

Clara noted the lack of reaction, a curious eyebrow raising. "Just... okay?" she repeated, her voice playful. "Luke is my best friend, but he can be a lot. Loud, reckless, a bit oblivious…" 

She smirked. "You're the first person I've ever met who just shrugged and called him 'okay'."

"I meant kissing wise"

Now, that was an unexpected reply. Clara's initial surprise melted into a smirk, her gaze sharpening. She crossed her arms, eyeing Serena shrewdly. "And how do you know what kissing Luke is like?" she prompted, her tone teasing yet pointed.

She'd just met Serena, but a small part of her was curious—and not entirely unaffected by the implication that Serena had kissed her best friend.

The girl shrugged, eyes dancing around the small bar as she spoke."We were drunk. It was late, we were out at some racing event to Eddie, plus he got us VIP passes, so… win-win."

Clara's smirk widened, the pieces clicking into place. "Ahhh, the classic 'drunken kiss at a racing event' cliché." She nodded, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "And just to clarify, were you drunk too?"

The whole situation was kind of amusing, she had to admit. But still, the competitive side in her couldn't help but feel a pinch of… jealousy?

"absolutely plastered."

Clara's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Plastered." That was not what she was expecting. She laughed, amused by the image of Serena—the seemingly reserved, thoughtful girl—drunk off her ass.

"You, a lightweight?" she teased, raising an eyebrow. "I would have put money on you being the type to nurse one beer all night."

Serena’s glossed lips parted to speak, but before she could, Eddie's voice slid in with a heavy slur. His hand clamped over Serena’s shoulder. "Nah, Ro here could out-drink us all on a good day."

He leaned closer to Clara like it was a secret. "She's Greek"

Clara let out a short, delighted laugh, shaking her head as she looked Serena up and down with newfound respect. "Oh shit. A Greek wildcard? Now I definitely underestimated you."

She smirked, stepping slightly closer. "So all this 'overthinking,' deep-voiced wisdom was just the calm before the storm. You’re one of those people who wait until round three to start breakdancing on tables."

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. "I like it."

Serena scoffed, guiding Eddie’s hand off her shoulder as she turned to face him. Her hands busied themselves by fixing the man's jacket and checking to make sure he still had all of his important belongings on him. "Okay- Eddie, I'm calling you a cab."

Eddie pouted, clearly disappointed with the end of the fun. "You're no fun." He looked like a puppy being denied extra treats.

Clara, meanwhile, was trying not to laugh. She had a feeling Eddie gave Serena plenty of headaches even when he was completely sober. "I think a cab's a good idea, mate."

After that troublemaker was loaded into a cab back to his apartment, and the other three idiots were accounted for, Serena made her way to the bar.

She leaned over the smooth wood, bent enough at the hips where her dress slid up just a little. Enough to show off. Her nails tapped softly against the wood as she waited, eyes scanning over the various bottles and pictures lining the wall behind the bar.

The bartender, a middle-aged woman with dulled eyes, harsh lines on her face, and a forced smile, finished serving another customer and made her way to Serena.

"Well, aren't you a pretty one," she said with a friendly smile, her gaze taking in Serena's dress and appearance. "What can I get you, hon?"

Serena smiled back, soft and compassionate. "You got bourbon?"

The bartender nodded, reaching for a bottle behind her. "We've got three kinds—Knob Creek, Buffalo Trace, or Wild Turkey. You want it neat, on the rocks... or in something cute with an umbrella?" She winked.

Clara appeared beside Serena suddenly, hopping onto a barstool with a grin.

"Ooooh," she teased, nudging Serena’s elbow. "Bourbon. Strong choice for someone who ‘overthinks.’ You tryna impress me?"

"Knob. On the Rocks, please," Serenea nodded to the bartender before glancing over her shoulder at the other girl. Not moving her position an inch. "You stalking me now?"

The bartender busied herself mixing Serena a bourbon on the rocks.

Clara raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence. "Stalking? Me?" She scoffed, waving a hand dismissively. "Please. I just have a sixth sense for where the pretty people are."

She smirked, leaning forward on the bar so their shoulders were almost touching.

"And besides, you're the one lingering over the bar like that."

"Like what?"

Clara shrugged, tilting her head to look at Serena through her eyelashes. "You know. Leaned forward in that dress, all… flexible."

There was a playful tease in her voice that was entirely intentional, and she made no effort to hide it. "If I didn't know better, I might think you're trying to catch someone's attention."

She shrugged a little, rubbing a finger around the rim of her glass after it was placed in front of her. "Maybe I am." 

Clara's smirk widened, her eyes glittering at the subtle admission. She scooted a bit closer, enjoying the banter.

"Oh, really?" she drawled, drawing out the words. "And who's the unfortunate soul you're attempting to ensnare with your… charming flexibility and impressive bourbon order?"

The brunette shrugged. "Anyone really. Someone dumb and drunk enough, but decent enough to look at for a few hours." 

Clara's lips twitched with amusement at the matter-of-fact answer. "Ah, the classic 'good enough for tonight but forgettable by daybreak' strategy, huh?"

She leaned back a little, pretending to analyze Serena from head to toe. "Decent enough to look at, though? Pretty sure you could pull more than 'decent' if you tried."

Serena hummed, lips pursed as she looked down at her drink. 

Clara smirked, swirling the beer in her hand like she was contemplating something deeply. "You're awfully quiet for someone who just admitted to hunting dumb, drunk company." Her voice dropped a notch—smooth, teasing. "Unless you already found what you're looking for… and are just waiting for her to catch on?"

She held Serena's gaze, unblinking. Playful challenge in her blue eyes.

Serena understood the meaning behind Clara’s words. She really did, but not a single bone in her body would let her give in that easily. "I mean, the girl over there in the mini skirt isn't half bad."

A short laugh burst from Clara's lips. "Mini skirt, huh?"

She turned, subtly following Serena's gaze. Sure enough, there was a girl across the bar in a skirt that barely covered anything.

Clara turned back with a smirk. "You're right. Not half bad."

She took a sip of beer, eyeing Serena over the glass. "You thinking of trying your luck?" There was that edge of competitiveness again. The unspoken dare.

Serena didn't say a single word. She just stood up straight off the bar, downed the rest of her drink, put the glass down, and was on her way across the room without an ounce of hesitation in her mind.

°•☆•°

Not even five minutes later, Serena was walking back to the bar with a sharp crease in her brows and a knot in her shoulders. She ordered another drink and downed it like the browned liquid was just water. Like it would do something to ease the rising fire in her chest.

Clara watched the entire scene unfold from her barstool, her gaze keen and observant. She saw Serena approach the girl, saw the interaction, and saw the results.

When Serena returned to the bar, her shoulders a little more taut and brow furrowed, Clara raised an eyebrow. She waited until Serena downed her drink before speaking.

"Didn't pan out, I take it?" Her tone was light and casual, but there was a subtle edge of satisfaction.

"She's a fucking pillow princess. Didn't even know what to touch." Serena hissed over the edge of her glass, eyes narrowed and locked into the smooth wood of the bar.

Clara choked on her beer, barely managing to turn it into a cough. She leaned against the bar, wheezing as she tried to pull herself together.

"Oh my god." She was trying so hard not to laugh. "A pillow princess. You're killing me, you know that?"

The Greek girl just rolled her eyes and downed another glass like it was water before waving for another.

Clara grabbed Serena’s wrist before she could signal for another drink, her grip firm but not unkind. "Whoa, easy there, Greek god of alcohol. You’re gonna turn into a bourbon ghost at this rate."

She leaned in, voice low and playful. "Besides… if you wanted someone who actually knows what to do with their hands," she said slowly, thumb brushing over Serena’s pulse point before letting go, "you should’ve just asked me."

Her eyes flickered to the Canadian, narrowing but not speaking yet.

Clara met Serena's gaze evenly, her smirk unfazed. She could tell she'd caught the other girl off guard, but she didn't shy away from it.

"I'm just saying," she continued nonchalantly, taking a slow sip of her beer. "You can spend the whole night chasing someone who can't even figure out how to touch you—" She raised an eyebrow. "Or you could have a hell of a lot more fun with me."

The words hung in the air between them, suggestive and confident.

"Why?"

Clara shrugged, casually leaning against the bar as if they were discussing the weather and not potential hook-ups.

"Why?" she echoed, tilting her head, her blue eyes never leaving Serena's. "Well, for one, I know what to do with my hands."

A smirk played on her lips, challenging the tension. "And for another, why the hell not?"

"You just met me," Serena mumbled, popping out one hip to lean against the bar as she turned to face Clara head-on.

"And?" Clara raised an eyebrow, unfazed. "You were about to hook up with someone you just met, too, weren't you?"

Leaning forward a bit, she added, voice low and confident, "At least with me, you know you're getting quality over… whatever that girl offered."

"Thigh kisses," Serena grumbled into her glass as she took a sip.

Her gaze turned heated, voice dropping to something slower, more deliberate. "With me? You'd get a lot more than just thigh kisses. Unless… that's your thing? 'Cause I can do that too. Just say the word."

Serena narrowed her eyes. Not harsh, but observing. "..what's the catch?"

Clara leaned an elbow on the bar, studying Serena with a smirk. "You're a suspicious one, aren't you?"

She took a slow sip of beer, considering Serena's question. 

"No catch," she said finally, setting the glass down. "No strings. Just a night where we both have a good time, and tomorrow we go about our lives."

Her tone was casual, but there was an undercurrent of something else. Challenge and desire, mixed seamlessly. "Interested?"

Serena hesitated, then put her drink down onto the bar counter and turned to face Clara fully once again. “Are you sure that's a good idea? Being seen leaving with someone like me?" 

Clara's smirk only widened at that. "Like you?"

She looked Serena up and down, eyes roaming over Serena's appearance. "You mean a tall, attractive, confident woman in a killer dress?"

Taking another sip of beer, she met Serena's gaze head-on. "Honey, I think being seen leaving with you would make all the right heads turn."

The Greek huffed. "I'm me, though, and you're you."

Clara's smirk softened into a small, knowing smile. She could see where this was going. "And what's that supposed to mean? That I'm some stuck-up, self-centered rock star and you're just… you?"

She leaned a bit closer, the distance between them shrinking. "Or is this just classic 'I'm not good enough for the famous rock star' self-pity talk?" She arched an eyebrow, tone gentle but firm. "Because I call bullshit, Serena."

"I am just a girl. I mean, sure, sometimes I fight, or drive with Eddie, but I mean, does that really count for something?" 

Clara tilted her head, studying Serena with a quiet intensity. "Just a girl?" She let out a soft laugh, not mocking—amused. "You think wrestling and tearing down highways with Eddie Bonavich makes you 'just' anything?"

She leaned in, voice low and smooth. "Sweetheart, most rock stars I know wouldn’t last five minutes in the ring or on the track. You’re built differently."

Her gaze held Serena's, unflinching. "And for the record? I don’t care about fame when I’m deciding who to kiss." Her lips curled into a slow smirk. "The only thing that matters is if they can keep up."

"You're dangerous."

Clara's smirk widened, a hint of predatory satisfaction in her eyes. She liked that. A lot.

"Dangerous, huh?" she echoed, taking another deliberate sip of beer without breaking eye contact. "Most girls say 'bold' or 'confident' or 'sexy'. You chose 'dangerous.'"

She set her beer down, leaning closer. "Careful, or you're going to make me think you have a thing for bad choices."

The brunette hummed. “You haven't met me yet, Alexandrova."

Clara’s grin turned slow, wicked—like she’d been waiting for this. "Oh, I have met you," she murmured, voice low and teasing. "Black hair down your back like a damn curse. Greek fire in your blood. You wrestle for sport and kiss strangers at racing events like it means nothing."

She leaned in until her breath ghosted Serena's ear. "You walk into a bar, order bourbon like a challenge, get rejected by some amateur—and instead of sulking? You come back here with that storm in your eyes like you’re ready to start a war."

Then she pulled back just enough to catch the brunette's gaze. "Dangerous isn’t even the half of it."

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Clara Alexandrova's Library.

☆ Meddle About.

☆ good girl. ☆ So Far So Fake. ☆ feel like shit.

☆-

☆-

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

˖ ࣪ 𓂃 SHOOT YOUR SHOT . DANIELA AVANZINI

❝this ain't for the best. my reputation's never been worse, so you must like me for me.❞

SYNOPSIS. Basketball has been a part of your life for what seems like forever. That never-ending love and determination for the game soon brought a college sports scholarship directly to your doorstep, offering you a one-way ticket one step closer to your dream: playing in the WBNA. Just a year ago, your dream became a reality. Drafted by the Los Angeles Sparks, you've been grinding hard ever since, eyes locked on one goal: winning Rookie of the Year. With the new season on the horizon, life is a blur of pre-season press conferences, brand deals, and the occasional Instagram or TikTok live.

During one of those lives, your fans convince you to react to a music video by the fast-rising global girl group KATSEYE. Daniela Avanzini catches your eye not two seconds into the video. But while you're chasing Rookie of the Year, she's bracing for the release of KATSEYE's upcoming ep, Beautiful Chaos—and she doesn't seem nearly as interested in you as you are in her. Now you're left walking a fine line between chasing your career high and nursing a one-sided crush... that might not stay one-sided forever.

PAIRING. Daniela Avanzini × WBNA Player!Reader

CONTENT && WARNINGS. Vulgar language, mutual pining, sort-of a slow burn, some parts may be ooc, any pictures used for the reader is not meant to depict the actual reader in any way, shape, or form, suggestive jokes, kys/go die jokes, fluff, small angst, features chapters that are either full social media, half-written, or entirely written.

FEATURING. KATSEYE, d4vd, olivia rodrigo, tate mcrae, billie eilish, the kid laroi.

STATUS. on-going.

UPDATES. once or twice a week.

⤿ PROFILES. four talented losers more talented losers && alley kats more kats

chapter one. holy whipped

chapter two. fine shyt central (half-written)

chapter three. basketball pun

chapter four. r.i.z.z.l.e.r.

chapter five. stupid jokes (half-written)

tags. @bilssturns @sacredgene @kianthegirlkisser @sseradiary1ry @smokenblk @dragoneyelashart @yoonchaesno1 @bilsbabyma @sophloveswomen @bitchesbrokenpromises

to be added to the taglist, click here!

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Riri Timurov's Library.

☆- All In Series.

☆-

☆-

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

All In.

Paring: Riri Timurov x Morana Suvorov (Fem OC)

Synopsis: Death is something that Morana has known from the moment she was born, and it’s something she will continue to know until the moment she meets the man himself. Now stuck following in the footsteps of every generation before her, Morana is forced to attend St. Dominic’s Prep School and learn that even though her entire life has been fated to death, some people are worth living for.

Warnings: gambling, swearing, underage drinking, inappropriate behavior, men, illegal use of drugs, drunk driving, kissing. I'll do a more specific warning list for each chapter.

Prologue

Chapter 1: Are You In?

Chapter 2: Ice Breaker.

Chapter 3: First Blood.

Chapter 4: Kaboom.

Chapter 5: The House Always Wins.

Chapter 6: Sell Your Soul.

Chapter 7: Predatory Gaze.

Chapter 8: First Time?

Chapter 9: I’m All In.

Chapter 10: I’m All In. pt2.

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Forbidden Fruit Mini-Series.

When a single mom gets screwed over and turned into a vampire despite her heritage and happens to catch the eye of a certain curly-haired werewolf, things get a little more than messy.

Part One.

Part Two.

Part Three.

Part Four.

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

"You don't know me. I'm not the same person anymore."

"That's okay. I'll get to know you again."

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

Forbidden Fruit.

°•☆•° - Daniela Avanzini x fem vampire reader

°•☆•° - When a single mom gets screwed over and turned into a vampire despite her heritage and happens to catch the eye of a certain curly-haired werewolf, things get a little more than messy.

°•☆•° - i'm making this multiple short parts cuz it just flows better in my opinion so...Ribs by Lorde is so baby reader and dani coded omfg

°•☆•° - 1565 words

Part Two | Part Three | Part Four

°•°•☆°•°•°•☆•°•°•°☆•°•°

You weren’t exactly sure when your life got flipped upside down and inside out, all you know is that it did.

It started when you were 6, then led all the way up to the moment you turned 18. 

At 6, your parents got a divorce. The two people you could have sworn were the definition of pure, true love had been putting up a wall to hide you from the truth until they couldn’t take it anymore.

The divorce meant you had to choose a parent to live with. A choice that meant you could either stay in your hometown, where all of your friends were, or move to a whole new place where you knew nothing and nobody.

Your parent’s didn’t give you a choice.

The next morning you were stuffed in the front seat of your dads car while all of your belongings were shoved in the trunk and seats behind you as you watched your entire world drive by. You hadn’t even gotten a chance to say goodbye to your best friend, your only friend.

Daniela hadn’t always been the best influence, even though she was the younger one by a year, but she had always been there. Through thick and thin, through worse and better. No matter what happened, no matter if you got into a fight, if you liked the same stupid boy, she had always stayed.

She stayed because she swore to herself that nobody could protect you like she could. Nobody would come to harm you as long as she was around, nobody would take that light from your eyes, and if they tried, she’d maul them. Even if she never said that to you out loud.

By 16, you were young, dumb, fresh out of high school, trying to escape your dad’s grueling rules and lifestyle, and willing to do whatever it took to make that happen, so you started partying.

At first, it was only once every few weeks, but as you built a group of people to go out with, it became more frequent. A few times every few weeks became a few times a week, then eventually nightly.

By the time August rolled around and college was beginning to open its doors, you had done almost every drug you could think of at least once. 

MDMA, Ketamine, Cocaine, Weed, THC, LSD. If someone named it, you’d most likely done it, along with the fact that you could outdrink a sailor and live to tell the story afterwards.

That's where things went wrong, very wrong. 

Being as messed up as you usually were at parties led to eager men begging to take you home, and most times you found the sense to say no or had a friend to say it for you, but that one night…you said yes.

You said yes, and he took you back to your dad’s place while he was out of town, and that was the last thing you remember other than the note on your nightstand the next morning, talking about blood sugar and dizziness, and a pack of cookies begging to be eaten.

And that’s how it stayed for the next two weeks.

You’d meet, he’d take you home, then you’d wake up the next morning with no memory of anything after you walked through the front door and a pack of your favorite cookies on your nightstand. 

Until the cookies repulsed you.

It wasn’t slow and gradual, soft and subtle; it was fast. Instant. 

One morning, you ate the cookies as usual, then the next, your stomach twisted the moment your eyes landed on the package.

That’s when you knew that you were completely and utterly fucked.

°•☆•°

A small plastic test sat on your vanity sink a week later, three dotted lines blinking back at you at an agonizingly slow pace as if it was mocking you. As if it was giving you time to sit there and reflect on your actions, to think about what you had done.

Then it stopped.

Stopped blinking, stopped teasing, stopped mocking, and held firm on one, singular, bolded word. 

Pregnant.

One word, and it was enough to turn your whole world into a new one. Everything you knew was about to change, and there was nothing you could do to stop it.

This couldn’t be happening. Not now. You were 16. Still young, still a kid, still learning. And now you were going to have your own kid? 

This had to be some kind of cursed hell. A trick, a prank, something the gods had done for a good laugh.

You hadn’t done a thing to deserve this. You hadn’t.

Sure, you’ve done some bad things, but underage drinking isn’t bad enough to deserve this kind of punishment. This wasn’t the life you were supposed to be living.

But you also knew that no matter what, you weren’t going to let this child suffer the same life you had been barely making your way through. 

So you started working.

Job applications went out that same night. Online college applications, ‘Willing to work’ posts on social media platforms, even willing to dip into your grandmother's savings that she had left you in her will, the same grandmother whom you hadn’t seen since your sixth birthday, when she had a ‘heart attack and died’.

You did anything and everything you possibly could in order to get a few bucks without having to fall at your parents' feet with tears.

You would never turn to them for anything ever again.

°•☆•°

It was slow, but money eventually began to filter in and pile up, and by the time you hit 17, you had enough to move into your own place despite being so young and buy things for your baby, whom you learned was a baby girl only two weeks before moving.

The house was small, snug, dirty, torn up in places, but it was your own, and for now, that was enough. All your daughter needed to know was how much you loved her and that she could do whatever she set her mind to.

Despite never going through the experience of growing a child before, you knew something about this pregnancy was…different by the 6-month mark.

This change had been slow and subtle, unlike every other part of the process.

You knew the cravings would most likely be crazy; it was a thing that every mother-to-be bitched about online and even led to trends of strangers trying their crazy cravings, but what you hadn’t expected whatsoever was to have the almost painful craving for raw meat.

It took you a while to understand what your body had been begging you for, and then how to find an alternative other than eating the one thing that could potentially harm your daughter.

But the more you ignored it and tried to work around it, the worse it got until it became physically painful, and you had to give in.

You knew there was a butcher's shop downtown, in the dangerous part of town, the one place everyone claimed werewolves roamed the streets. Those same people ended up behind bars, dead, or locked away in a mental institution. 

The werewolves sounded like something you’d rather deal with than live with this god forsaken pain in your stomach a minute longer. So downtown you went. Alone.

Much to your luck, the entire event had gone smoothly. 

No so-called werewolves, no angry monsters. The butcher had been kind, even offered to cook it for you and a free meat pick of your choice the next time you came back. Aside from the odd look he gave you when you claimed to want to cook it yourself at home, everything was fine, perfectly fine.

Except for the head of large curls and bright yellow eyes that stood just out of sight in the shadows and followed you from the second they caught your scent when you left your car to the moment you left the town boundary line.

°•☆•°

Your daughter was born two months later.

The entire thing had been nothing but a painful blur to you. Sharp, blinding white light, hot burning pain throughout every inch of your body that had you screaming so loud you swore the ground shook. 

Even the doctors and nurses didn’t know what to do, not when you continued to scream, to cry, begging them to make it all stop. 

People would linger in the doorway of your room, nosy patients wanting to know what all the screaming was about.

Monitors beeped loudly and blared. Bodies shuffled around the room in a panic. You could feel hands on you, some soothing, some trying to help ease the baby out of your body without causing more distress.

Amidst the panic and pain, you could feel the moment your daughter left your body and met the world for the first time, and then all the pain faded.

Everything faded out into a dull ache and a blur of sounds and colors before it all went silent. 

Dark, quiet, empty, still. Nothingness.

You were dead.

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

never in my life did i think i'd be tweaking out over writing a goddamn werewolf. my years of watching teen wolf have let me down 😔

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

hehehehehe

got a vampire fic in the worrkkksssss

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

got a vampire fic in the worrkkksssss

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

i love YOU. my favorite girl always 🫶

I wish i was accomplishing my dreams instead of living the same day over and over again. I wish i had motivation for anything. I wish i was making the people around me proud.

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

I'm proud of you, baby.

just because you aren't where you want to be and doing what you dream about doesn't mean you're any less worthy or important.

motivation is a hard thing to work with, I get it, but sometimes, even on those god-awful days, all you have to do is take it minute by minute and breath by breath.

I wish i was accomplishing my dreams instead of living the same day over and over again. I wish i had motivation for anything. I wish i was making the people around me proud.

[urmommysfavkisserrr]

guys, I'm so tired. 😭😭

I've had something going on every day for the last like three weeks, and now that I finally had a day off, I immediately got sick, AND I leave for a trip in 3 days, so I've gotta finish packing for that but all I wanna do is get a fic out even though I've got writer's block 😭

send help.