#Following back soon ❤️❤️❤️ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sinofwriting · 7 months ago

Text

I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Masterlist | Support Me! | I ❤️ MILFS verse

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.”

Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.”

He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.”

“Not gonna tell me it gets easier?”

He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know.

“I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs.

She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.”

He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back.

“You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head.

“Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go.

She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.”

He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.”

He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly.

“You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.”

He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.”

“Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.”

His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.”

Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.”

He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock.

“He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.”

“Madelyn and Daniel?”

She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.”

One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.”

Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.”

“Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.”

“Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table.

“Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.”

She makes a humming noise.

“C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.”

Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle.

He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.”

“Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.”

He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?”

Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?”

She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.”

Logan both blushes and preens at the same time.

Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?”

She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.”

He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.”

She laughs, “good gin and tonic?”

He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.”

She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,”

“Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.”

Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.”

“We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts.

“Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused.

“Ah.”

“Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.”

She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases.

The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.”

“Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?”

She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.”

Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.”

“Your work allows you to do that?”

Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.”

“You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.”

“I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious.

“No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.”

“Manager?”

“God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.”

“Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.”

“Thank you.”

“Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.”

“Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?”

“Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him.

He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?”

“It’s nice.” She smiles.

Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.”

Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him.

“You seemed a bit more relaxed.”

“No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.”

Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head.

“Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.”

Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?”

He shrugs as best as he can.

“I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.”

“You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs.

Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.”

“What happened?”

“She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.”

Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.”

The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies.

“What?”

“I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.”

“Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar.

“I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.”

Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?”

Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?”

“The one that gave Fred shit.”

“I thought she died?”

The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?”

“Mate, you didn’t hear about that?”

“No!”

“She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.”

“How do I not remember this?”

Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,”

“No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.”

“Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.”

Logan groans, “Os, no.”

“Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.”

“Oscar, please, it’s my mom.”

“She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush.

He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.”

“Lando was looking.”

Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.”

He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.”

“He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns.

“I saw that too.”

“But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?”

Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.”

“Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?”

“I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.”

Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.”

“We all want to age like her.” George agrees.

“What are you saying?” Fernando frowns.

A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.”

Fernando frowns, “Lines?”

Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank.

Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.”

The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.”

“Fuck.”

“Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,”

“He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her.

“He did it! He did it!” She cheers.

The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.”

“Got it. Where’s Alex?”

She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.”

It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.”

Both of her hands fly up to her mouth.

“Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.”

She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control.

“What? What do you mean?”

“You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.”

“Holy fuck.”

The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes.

“You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.”

She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.”

“Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.”

“I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried.

“You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.”

She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?”

He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.”

“He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her.

His smile widens as he takes the seat.

“I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear.

“I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?”

She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.”

“Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.”

She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?”

“You did.”

“Sweet.”

“Very. How’s the head?”

Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.”

She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.”

“Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it.

She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.”

“True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.”

“I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.”

“Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.”

“I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.”

“Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?”

“It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.”

His brows press together. “Max?”

“Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?”

Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.”

“You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.”

“I go on dates.”

“Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.”

She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists.

“Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?”

“Yes.”

“Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?”

Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,”

Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?”

“Oh.”

Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.”

“I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!”

He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces.

“Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?”

He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press.

“But how are you feeling about it?”

Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.”

He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.”

Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.”

“P10 and P9.”

He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.”

Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.”

“Not yours?”

He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.”

Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?”

Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.”

“Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.”

“And if I go into the wall?”

Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?”

Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.”

“Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.”

Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.”

He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him.

“And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his.

“So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say.

“I’m a mom.”

He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.”

“Logan is important to me.”

Oh, god, did Logan not like him?

“The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.”

“Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.”

She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?”

She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.”

“I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?”

Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.”

He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.”

“His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right.

“His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?”

“No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.”

She stares at him, lips pressed together.

He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.”

She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?”

“The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears.

“I am his mother, just adopted.”

“Not that either of you see it that way.”

“No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.”

“Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?”

She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.”

“How old are you?”

“I’m twenty-nine.”

He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.”

“Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.”

“How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch.

“Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun.

Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach.

“What?”

“How was your date last night?”

Her smile widens. “It was good.”

“Yeah?”

She nods.

“Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?”

“No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.”

“About what?”

“Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well.

She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.”

“What about Max?”

She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.”

“You know, I’m okay with it.”

“I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.”

Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.”

Logan flushes at the words.

“He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age.

He flushes even more. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.”

“I am an adult.”

“You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.”

He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?”

She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?”

“Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?”

“First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder.

“Am I late?”

“Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen.

“Can I,”

She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.”

“Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.”

“Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her.

“Logan and you are both going to get on too well.”

“Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“You both don’t like when I lift anything.”

“What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back.

Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.”

“One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.”

“See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head.

“I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.”

Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.”

He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.”

“Are you sure?”

Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage.

The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at.

“Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.”

“Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely.

“Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?”

The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.”

“Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member.

“Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?”

He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.”

“And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases.

“No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.”

“I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.”

“Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.”

“Oh?”

Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.”

Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room.

“Hi, schat.”

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats.

His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.”

“Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask.

“He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.”

Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?”

She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.”

“Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.”

“Anything I can help with?”

She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops.

“Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.”

“Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?”

His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.”

“The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.”

“They have to be not performing well.”

“They’re a rookie in a back marker team.”

“They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about.

“They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.”

His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?”

“Nine.”

“I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.”

She shakes her head.

“Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?”

She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.”

“I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.”

She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his.

“The driver’s Logan.”

“What?”

“Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.”

Max stares at her. “How?”

“I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.”

“He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.”

“I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.”

“It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it.

“Why’s that, honey?”

He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team.

“I guess you are a bit spoiled.”

He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle.

“That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.”

He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more.

“I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.”

She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.”

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends.

“Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder.

“How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner.

She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.”

He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?”

“I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.”

“I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside.

“I know.”

“Logan still wanting to do his new routine.”

She nods, lips pursed.

He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?”

She throws him a look. “Us?”

“You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that.

“Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.”

“Will Logan be joining us for Florida?”

“Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.”

Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,”

“You go to Milton for a day after.”

He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.”

“Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.”

“Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.”

“Yes?”

“Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend.

He freezes.

“Max.”

“I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic #sins fics

4K notes · View notes

paddockletters · 2 months ago

Text

super sperm | carlos sainz jr

pairing: carlos sainz jr x reader summary: carlos can’t resist teasing the world about starting a family, but when he casually drops that he and his partner might be trying soon, no one takes him seriously—until they realize he wasn’t joking. request: yes! / the funniest request istg, thank uuu so much!

carlossainz55

Liked by y/username and 682,519 others

carlossainz55: Every day feels like a vacation when I'm with you ❤️

y/username

Liked by carlossainz55 and 193,834 others

y/username: today's workout were something else

comments:

carlossainz55: and people ask me why I can't focus at the gym… 😮‍💨

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 193,742 others

y/username: night out with my girls

comments:

carlossainz55: ancel your plans, come back home, let’s stay in 😉

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 213,052 others

y/username: living my best life

comments:

carlossainz55: How can someone be so cute and sexy at the same time? Asking for a friend.

y/username

liked by carlossainz55 and 1,653,742 others

y/username: Looks like Carlos’ superpower worked… baby coming soon! 💛

comments:

carlossainz55: told you so. super sperm strikes again

user1: THIS MF REALLY DID IT 😭

user2: Carlos be like: I’m a man of my word 💀

user3: SOMEONE GIVE THIS MAN A MEDAL

user4: We all laughed and now look at us. Sobbing

user5: The way Carlos is so smug right now, I’m howling 😂

user6: I can’t believe he manifested this into existence.

user7: Bro really followed through on his super sperm statement. Iconic.

user8: Carlos wasn’t playing around!!!

charles_leclerc: I can’t believe you guys actually did it 😭

landonorris: Carlos said 'watch me' and we all should’ve believed him 😂

user9: Congratulations!!! But also, I’m never recovering from Carlos' 'super sperm' comment 😭

user10: Carlos with the 'I told you so' 💀

1K notes · View notes

letstrip13 · 2 months ago

Text

୨୧ - ride

summary: what happens when you and chris are left alone in matt's van

warnings: smut, unprotected p in v (idk why people say 'p in v' but i'll go with it), lowkey sort of in public

word count: 578

author's note: the poll results are NOT what i was expecting at all but those fics will be coming soon

author's note 2: happy thanksgiving to the other canadians if you see this ❤️

author's note 3: vote on my hcs here! tbh i have a strong feeling which one is gonna win

------------------------୨୧------------------------

“feels s- fuck- so good,” chris groans as he guides your hips, bouncing you up and down on his cock as whimpers and moans fly from your lips.

this wasn't meant to happen. you should not be riding your boyfriend in the backseat of his brother's car. it was wrong on so many levels but you couldn't help yourself. you, chris, nick, and matt went to pick up dinner but there was a half hour wait since it was so busy. matt and nick decided to wait inside the restaurant, leaving you and chris alone. bad idea.

what started as some innocent kisses turned into a heated, needy makeout which resulted in you sinking down on your boyfriend's cock and crying out in the confined space of the van. in the moment, you were grateful you had put a skirt on this morning. it made things much easier for the both of you.

he bucks his hips up to meet yours every time you sink down on him, driving himself deeper inside you to hit all the right spots. “chris-” you gasp out.

“doing so good f’me, baby. y’look so pretty riding me like this,” he says in a husky voice as he continues to guide you, helping you speed up.

the van is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, the rhythmic pattern of your skin slapping each time you make contact, chris groaning, and your moans and whimpers. every window is fogged completely from the heat of your bodies and the intensity of it all.

that warm pressure of your impending orgasm starts forming within you. “mmph, chris, m'so close,” you say with a loud moan. his hands move from your hips to your ass, squeezing the plump flesh as you take control and use his cock to get yourself off.

overwhelming waves of pleasure wash over you; your movements come to a stop as your legs begin to shake and your walls clench around chris. you bury your face in his shoulder, biting down to muffle the scream of pleasure that threatens to escape your throat.

the sounds and the sensations coming from you are all too much for chris and he follows right behind you, shooting his hot seed into you as you come to a rest on top of him.

you hold each other, slowing your rapid breaths and soothing each other for a moment, enjoying the aftermath of it all.

your head shoots up as you seem to remember exactly where you are. chris senses your slight urgency and as if he can read your mind, he lifts you off him and rummages through the center console of the car. he pulls out a wad of napkins and does his best to clean you both up.

he re-adjusts his pants while you look for your panties he had tossed to the floor. you pull them back on quickly as he exits the car to throw the napkins away. you lean forward to the driver's seat to turn the air conditioning on.

chris gets back in the car and soon the heat, fogginess, and even the smell of sex dissipate from the car. ‘perfect timing,’ you think to yourself as you see matt and nick from afar, walking out of the restaurant with the bags of takeout. you turn the AC off, resting your head on chris’ shoulder, both of you letting out a relieved sigh at what you just got away with.

------------------------୨୧------------------------

check out my masterlist for more

join my taglist

requests are open so leave one if you'd like :)

#chris x reader #chris sturniolo blurb #chris sturniolo smut #chris sturniolo fluff #chris sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo imagine #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo x you #chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo x you #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo imagine #matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #sturniolo imagine #nick sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

1K notes · View notes

nicksolemnlyswears · 2 months ago

Text

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

#fanfiction #nicksolemnlyswears #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller #tlou #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction

1K notes · View notes

fastandcarlos · 2 months ago

Text

Baby Perez Is Mine : ̗̀➛ Max Verstappen

summary: after getting to know your brother’s team mate max, you soon find that it’s more than just a friendship that’s struck between the two of you

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, lilymhe and 179,583 others

ynperez: always a joy to pay a visit to red bull and make sure everyone knows that mexicans obviously do it best ❤️💙

27,058 comments

username1: I just love how supportive yn is of sergio and his whole career!

schecoperez: thanks for always making sure there’s at least one sergio fan in the crowd 😘

ynperez: @/schecoperez always got your back brother 🫶🏻

username2: it’s nice to see someone in a red bull hat with two 1s on it for a change

maxverstappen1: tell that to the driver’s standings loser 😂

ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 we don’t accept any perez slander in this house thank you!!

username3: it’s the way she just pops up at all these random races for me 😂

carlossainz55: want me to show you the spanish way? 🇪🇸

ynperez: @/carlossainz55 can assure you no one is as smooth as a perez 😏

username4: thank you yn for always being sergio’s number one fan 🥺

username5: ngl max gives me annoying middle sibling vibes when he’s with these two 😂

lilymhe: sorry you were at the race and didn’t think to come and see me 😤

ynperez: @/lilymhe sorryyyyy it was just too busy, I promise next time I’m yours 🥺

username6: the way that most of the drivers and wags love yn more than anyone else speaks volumes 🔊

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by lancestroll, redbullracing and 582,048 others

schecoperez: such a proud weekend to be racing at home with so much support. thank you to everyone in mexico for all the love 🇲🇽🏎️

37,048 comments

maxverstappen1: super race and lots of points, let’s push on to the end of the season 💪🏻

username7: no one can convince me that these two aren’t secretly the cutest pairing on the grid

ynperez: most of that love was from me btw, loudest in the grandstand by far 🥲

schecoperez: @/ynperez have I mentioned your the best baby sister ever 🤔

username8: I hope you heard us nice and loud whilst you were driving around today sergio 🫶🏻

username9: thank you for always bringing the party to the podium ❤️

estebanocon: you should race at home more often if you perform like that

username10: such an incredible weekend, we’re all so proud of you sergio!!

landonorris: idk where that hat came from but I need one asap 😂

schecoperez: @/landonorris we don’t just give these out to any random guy you know

username11: I’m not ready for this weekend to be over already…

danielricciardo: huge race buddy, congrats on some super points 💪🏻

username12: not me not wondering when we’ll next get to see yn and sergio together again 💔

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, charles_leclerc and 2,859,261 others

maxverstappen1: no better way to spend a week off than exploring the world with my favourite person 🥺 (who also bribes me with beer to take selfies so it’s worth it 😭🍺)

274,261 comments

charles_leclerc: fancy telling us who the lucky girl is that’s taken the max verstappen off the market!?!?

username13: I was not prepared for max to drop this bomb on us today

alex_albon: look at you being all mysterious and secretive on instagram 😂

redbullracing: all we needed to do was buy a beer to stop you giving admin a breakdown with your shocking social posts…

maxverstappen1: @/redbullracing admin can comment when you’ve got more followers than me ☺️

username14: whoever this girl is, she must make max incredibly weak for him to agree to take a selfie 😂

landonorris: congrats on being able to finally take a half decent photo 👏🏻

username15: boyfriend era max can be welcomed with open arms!!

schecoperez: we work together every week and fail to mention you’ve got a girlfriend 🙄

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez you have to promise not to kill me if I share…

schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1 you can’t tell me something like that and not elaborate!!

danielricciardo: if I knew beer was all it took I’d have got you social media trained years ago 🤦🏻‍♂️

username16: who is this favourite person and how can I take their place???

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 193,747 others

ynperez: turns out the dutch just as good as the mexicans 🥺🏎️

38,372 comments

username17: wtf this is the plot twist that I did not see coming 😱

schecoperez: still getting over this absolute betrayal btw 😭

ynperez: @/schecoperez I promise you’re still secretly my number one 🫶🏻

landonorris: wasn’t happy with f1 driver in your life so decided to pull another too ☺️

username18: and now I remember why yn is so popular with all the other drivers 😂

danielricciardo: last time I checked max was mine and now you come along and stolen him 😭

carmenmmundt: why do i feel like I’ve blinked and missed a whole load of chapters here???

ynperez: @/carmenmmundt answer your damn phone and I’ll fill you in!!

username19: why do I feel like I’ve missed out on so many chapters in the story here

alex_albon: I hope you’re only making reference to their driving in that caption 🤔

ynperez: @/alex_albon @/lilymhe come get your man and his head out the gutter please!!

username20: rip sergio 😭 he must be a ruined man right now

username21: how did none of us actually see this coming with how close they are??

flavy.barla: emergency date night for all the details is pending…

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by alex_albon, oscarpiastri and 327,509 others

ynperez: for all the red bull girlies terrified I had ruined the team forever, here’s the three of us are playing a game of padel to remind you that red bull are gonna win the championship again this year! ❤️💙

52,927 comments

username22: if there’s one person who always believes in red bull it’s yn 🤩

maxverstappen1: you nearly ruined the relationship by picking to play with sergio instead of me 😭

ynperez: @/maxverstappen1 you were better than the two of us combined anyway 😂

username23: why do I feel like yn was more there to be cheerleader than actually player??

landonorris: wondering where my invite to this game was??

danielricciardo: @/landonorris funnily enough the text didn’t arrive on my phone either

oscarpiastri: @/danielricciardo @/landonorris I thought it was just me who’d been forgotten 💔

ynperez: @/oscarpiastri that’s because you’re so bad you make me look good at padel 😂

username24: I also want to be part of these padel games fyi 🙌🏻

schecoperez: that’s what we call a fake smile trying to not be sick watching the two of you together 🤮

ynperez: @/schecoperez you love us both really 💙

lancestroll: when they said red bull was a happy family, I didn’t realise quite how close that family was 😂

username25: these photos summarise the team perfectly, sergio just happy to be here whilst max is super focused and competitive!

georgerussell63: next time we’ll have to play a game together

carmenmmundt: @/georgerussell63 @/ynperez we can sit and gossip whilst the boys play more like 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by schecoperez, charles_leclerc and 3,842,162 others

maxverstappen1: so proud to win another world title and do it with my best friend right by my side. thank you for all the incredible support this year, red bull fans really are the best ❤️🏆💙

482,172 comments

ynperez: couldn’t be happier to be there by your side today, congratulations on an incredible season darling 💞

maxverstappen1: @/ynperez you’re the best prize to come out of this season still 💞

username26: were all so proud of you max, yet another incredible season 🎉

landonorris: next year I’m coming for your ass just so you know 😉

username27: this thread of photos must have sergio raging in his driver’s room somewhere

schecoperez: don’t remember my sister being the one to race alongside you all season 🤷🏻‍♂️

username28: never in doubt, we all always knew you’d do it max!!

danielricciardo: I always knew you’d do it all those years ago…and look where we are now!

username29: best friend 🥺 if you listen closely you can hear sergio’s heart breaking…

charles_leclerc: it’s been an honour as always to race alongside you this season! 👏🏻

username30: it can’t be denied that these two are just the cutest!

username31: who knew a dutch and a mexican could be so well suited 🤩

redbullracing: our champion and our driver, we couldn’t be happier to have you with us max ❤️💙

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by ynperez, schecoperez and 3,117,058 others

maxverstappen1: turns out I forgot to mention the other perez in my life, so shout out to sergio for being the best teammate ever and introducing me to his smoking hot sister 🔥

317,028 comments

schecoperez: this was almost a cute caption until I read that last sentence…and now I want to knock you out 🥊

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez just remember the bit where I told you you were the best teammate ever 😘

username32: how have I only just noticed how chaotic this duo is 😂

username33: admin hurry up and bring us more content from these two asap!

username34: max better start running whilst sergio hunts down his ass

username35: I wonder if yn realises what she’s started with these two now 🤔

username36: how has it taken me this long to realise how good of a team these two are 😂

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux and 328,018 others

ynperez: best date ever to watch my best friend get married 🥂 so happy to spend your special day with you sergio and carolina 💞

38,472 comments

username37: you two look incredible…congratulations sergio and carolina 💞

schecoperez: hopefully it’ll be you guys next and we’ll be welcoming max into the family 🥺

maxverstappen1: @/schecoperez is this you saying you want to be brothers in law??? 🥹

schecoperez: @/maxverstappen1: let’s not get too ahead of ourselves now…

landonorris: @/schecoperez I agree, hurry up and put a ring on it verstappen 😂

username38: I can’t get over how adorable the two of you are together 😭

landonorris: who knew you two scrubbed up so well!?

ynperez: @/landonorris we just hide it well 😇

username39: is this extended invite sergio finally accepting of max!?

estebanocon: I’ve never heard a sister of the groom speech before, but you really set quite the high standard 😂

username40: can’t wait for these three to keep annoying each other forever 😂

danielricciardo: damn yn idk what you’ve done to max but he’s never looked hotter 🔥

ynperez: @/danielricciardo careful otherwise people might think it’s you two who are dating…

username41: this feels like a competition to pick which is the cuter couple…

oscarpiastri: looks like you guys all had the most magical day 🥂

username42: you know I secretly think sergio is thrilled that they’re together, he just hides it well 😂

maxverstappen1: feeling pretty lucky to have the most beautiful date in the world, my stunning girl 💞

ynusername: @/maxverstappen1 it’s easy to look good with you by my side 🥺

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

1K notes · View notes

luvwestwood · 10 months ago

Text

"AFK" - Choso Kamo (with twt links)

"..like fortnite, i’ma need your skin.."

3,012 words.

warnings. nsfw(18+), bf/gamer! choso, oral sex (m rec.), humiliation, desk sex, exhibitionism, trying not to get caught, feral choso, p in v, throat fucking, oral sex (m receiving), overstimulation, degradation, choso whimper links included lol,

notes. my previous drabble abt choso had a lil kick to it, definitely had to make it into a full one-shot! hope u guys enjoy, and thank u for 450 followers hehe, so I included twt links! ^^

credits to @/plutism for dividers, @/adrienwithane for banner.

russian translation by @juliabelll ❤️

Not too long ago, it was Choso's birthday. Being an amazing girlfriend you are, of course you built him a brand new PC. It cost you an arm and a leg, but that didn't matter at all when it came to Choso. Seeing him happy itched a part of your brain, especially when he was the one who would pay for everything: dates, your online shopping carts, you name it.

He never really bought anything for himself. You were getting tired of the countless times that he went on a tangent about how slow his previous machine was. It was doing your head in, so you saved up. For what you now call a 'not-blessing-in-disguise'.

Choso was obsessed with his new PC, and it wasn’t an exaggeration. Part of you was starting to regret it all. The man barely paid attention to you.

Am I the asshole for being mad that my boyfriend likes his gift a bit too much? No, I wouldn't think so. I should be delighted, but it's pretty much getting outrageous.

The fact that he has almost every single game out there on that PC in just a span of one week since he got it - means there's more for him to do. Every day, he'd wake up, do a bit of house stuff then sit his ass down to play with his friends. For as long as he can. Never leaving that room. Hell, he wouldn't even bother answering your messages until an hour later. 'Mb, was on the game' is something that was engraved in your brain by now.

Every time you'd come over, he'd ignore you simply by just gluing his eyes on the screen. If you try to nap, just go home. You've lost track of how many times he's managed to wake you up with his blood-curdling screams. There were times when Choso didn't even notice you leaving, which upset you quite a bit.

Of course, you had moments when you needed him the most. Like, badly. Freshly shaved, he's not even mentally there to take a peek. You could be naked and oiled up in his bed, Choso wouldn't even bat an eye.

…Advice to self, don't get him a PS5 this Christmas.

"Choso," You called out, sat on the edge of the bed behind him. No answer. Per usual, you wanted to rip that headset off his head.

Dark circles were forming around his eyes, endless cans of monster were scattered all over his desk. "Nah let's just fight Oscar, we've got a minute until the circle closes."

Rolling your eyes, a scoff escapes your mouth. Aaand he didn't hear you. Crossing your arms, you furrow your brows. He was honestly testing your patience. "Choso?!"

Choso flinches a bit, pulling one side of his headset away from his ear. His gaming chair spins around to face you. "Baby?"

He knew you were mad. You looked more than pissed. It was really because this recurring behavior of his was getting too much. "Your eyes are always on that screen! Did you even know that I was here!?”

“I-I’m sorry. Look, I'll get off after this game!” From his headset you could hear Choso’s friends teasing and picking on him. They probably heard you scolding your poor boyfriend. You couldn’t care less.

As soon as you were about to speak, he immediately spun his chair back around to face that stupid monitor again. He was too engrossed in the game. It was his squad of four against the only opposing team.

Groaning, you flop back onto his mattress. "..You always say that, and you never do." Muttering under your breath, you stare at the ceiling blankly. What felt like a hammer to your head, Choso's war cries could only get louder each second.

The past few days, you had no choice but to use your own fingers to toy with yourself. You were needy, and you missed your boyfriend's touch. Too bad he was too occupied. How come his keyboard and mouse get to be touched by him more than your....

Using all of your strength, you sat yourself up again on the edge of his mattress. Realizing there's no use in scolding him, you quietly walked up behind Choso, combing your fingers through his hair. You loved when it was down, and he loved it when you played with his hair. He found it relaxing. You could tell by the way his body was no longer tensed up, the back of his head falling heavy onto your hand.

Your hands left his hair, travelling down to his nape. With your freshly manicured nails (which he paid for), you gently scratched his skin on his neck. You could see goosebumps forming, but said nothing about it. Choso who was ticklish, tilted his head to the side - "Mmm," He hummed, telling you off as you were starting to distract him.

Letting out a laboured sigh, you stared at the back of his head. Wondering what to do with him, you pouted. Maybe I should just leave like every other day? No, I can't back down.

He seems really busy. Would he even notice if I crawled under his desk? Grinning, you got on your knees, crawling like a kitty underneath his desk but making minimal noise. You glanced behind your shoulder to see his reaction, but his eyes were still gawking at the flashing screen in front of him.

Coming face to face with his sweats, you kneeled, just in level with his lap. Peeking your head out from the shadows under his desk, Choso had only noticed you then. His eyes widened, the sight of you looking up at him like a puppy had started to cloud up his thoughts.

Grabbing onto his wrist, he slowly let go of his mouse. Bringing his hand to your cheek, he took it in the palm of his hand, eventually giving in and using his thumb to softly caress your lips. "..I missed you, Choso.." You whispered, softly sucking on his thumb. "..I need you,"

His breath hitched, your words were doing something to him. What a fool he was for ignoring you all this time? Just then, a cacophony of voices screaming through his headset broke him out of his trance. Choso's warm hand left your face, causing you to frown. Your fun was cut short. Way too short.

You had enough, deciding it was time you finally got what you wanted. Snaking your two hands up the soft cotton of his sweats, they stopped right at his crotch. His eyes anxiously shot down to you underneath him, telling you off and pointing to his headset.

Placing a finger onto your lips, you told him to just be quiet. His eyes frantically flickered from you, then to his monitor. Slowly, you slid down his pants. Smiling at the way he rose himself up from his seat slightly, so it would be easier to take them off. Of course, he wasn't wearing anything underneath.

Taking his long, thick cock into your hands, you jerked it ever so slightly. Choso cleared his throat, keeping his mouth shut all of a sudden in case he accidentally makes unwanted noise. He was practically melting under your touch, into the chair. Gliding your tongue over his pink tip, he didn't dare look at you. Not long after, your warm mouth wrapped over him, Choso letting out a sigh of relief at the feeling.

You knew how to push his buttons, bringing yourself to fully deepthroat his cock for a few seconds. His lips purse shut, Choso slightly biting down onto his bottom lip. His fingers started to press on the wrong keys, unable to focus on the game.

Pulling away, a string of saliva connected your tongue and his aching tip. You brought your lips back onto his cock, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks as you used your two hands to jerk him off at the same time.

The man above was folding at the pornographic sight underneath him. Hearing Choso moan by accident, he quickly covered it up with a cough. “…Yeah, no, I’m good- Just don’t- feel well..”Friends concerned, Choso had come up with a convincing lie in just seconds. His hand reached down to rake through your hair until his fist was full of it. [link]

He lightly pushed your head up and down his length, your mouth making sloppy noises all over, buckets of spit dripping down your chin and his balls.

Ripping his headset off, Choso didn't care about the game anymore. Or his friends. He groaned as you fondled with his balls, giving them a suck afterwards. His light grey pants were turning a darker shade than before. His two hands clawed into your hair on both sides of your face, Choso started to fuck his cock into the back your throat.

Moaning, his eyes shut tightly as his head fell back onto the cushion of his chair. His balls tightening as he heard how you constantly gagged over his thick cock. "Fuck.. Just like that.."

His moans were a mixture of curses and long groans, tears started to well up in your eyes. Choso opened his eyes again, looking down at you as he drew your mouth away from his cock. He smiled, seeing your makeup all ruined, your face covered with spit and so did his lap.

Rolling his chair away from the desk, he grabbed you from underneath. Only to pull it back again, placing it in front of his PC. Guiding his hand on your back, he bent you over on the chair, making your two legs kneel on the soft cushion so you wouldn't tire out. [link]

Holding tightly onto your hair, your head fell back towards him. Choso had ripped the fabric of your leggings that was unfortunately covering your cunt. Grabbing his cock, he lined himself up with your hole, his hands shaking from how eager he was.

Easily sliding in from the slick that covered your hole, you grabbed onto the arm rest in front of you; Choso stretching you out completely. Wasting no time, he began to move his hips back and forth, fucking his hard cock into you.

His monitor started to gently shake from how hard his cock was bullying into you, skin slapping as his balls that were full of weeks load cum made contact with your clit.

"C-Choso.." You cried out, your hand reaching back to his pelvis. Staring at yourself getting fucked like a slut through the reflection of his PC monitor, your ass rippled with each and every one of his thrusts.

Maintaining his brutal pace, his fingers were no longer woven into your hair, reaching out to the headset on his desk. Confused, you kept your eyes open to watch Choso place them over your head. "W-What..?"

His hands gripped onto the flesh of your hips, Choso leaned into your ear. "Keep moaning you slut, let them hear you." All of a sudden he groaned, feeling you clench around him at what he just said. "You like that, don't you?"

Spinning you slightly to one side, his leg went up onto the chair with you, allowing him more leverage to fuck you deeper. "Eyes up at that camera too, show them how pretty you look taking my cock," Tears started to stream down the sides of your cheeks, your face had flushed red.

Choso's hands took a hold of your hair again, his tip kissing your cervix repeatedly. "I.." Speechless, you lost your ability to form a basic sentence. His fat cock left you braindead, at this point you were seeing nothing but stars.

"..Use your words baby," A creamy white ring started to form at his base as his cock pistoned in and out of you. Choso's hand kept stamping down on your back from time to time to make sure you kept that arch. "..Isn't this what you've been wanting all week?"

"Y-you're so deep.. I can't.." Your hand reached back to his abs, twisting the white fabric of his tank top until it was all wrinkly. He took a hold of your wrist, twisting your arm behind you. Choso slightly bent over, his warm body resting against your back.

He quietly groaned into your ear, chanting your name like a prayer. You were fucked out of your mind. "You feel so good.. like this pussy was made for me." The pace of his thrusts slowed down, but his hips still rut into you hard each time. His strokes hard and deep, you swear could feel him all up in your guts. Your jaw had dropped, your head falling back onto his shoulder.

Choso's hands reached under your loose shirt, letting your tits spill out of your bra. Gently twisting your nipple between his finger tips, fondling with your whole breast afterwards, he forgot how much he loved wrapping his mouth around those.

"Your cock.. It feels so good.." You babbled, Choso sneaking his fingers underneath to rub lazy circles on your clit. Your legs began to tremble, fortunately your throat managed to choke out a whine.

Also seeing him in the reflection of his monitor, strands of his hair started to stick to his face. Multiple beads of sweat had formed on his forehead. Choso didn't want to leave your pussy. Not even Thor could pull him out. He enjoyed using you like a cock whore.

You felt so dizzy, mind full of his cock. Choso let out multiple whimpers as he felt his orgasm nearing, his index finger hooking onto the side of your mouth. The very last few seconds, his cock bottomed into you, trying to chase your orgasm. The desk hitting against he wall non-stop, his headset that was on you started to fall off your head.

Leaving a trail of wet kisses down your back, his hand grabbed onto the plush flesh of your ass, continuously giving it a spank every now and then.

The wet, slapping noises of your skin continued to follow, until you felt his thrusts come to a sudden halt. His hot cum shooting inside of you rope after rope, just before he pulled out to let the rest out onto your ass. "..Fuck.. look at that."

Using his thumb to spread your hole wide open, his load spilt onto the black leather of his gaming chair. You panted, tired and hole throbbing. You got what you wanted, that’s for sure. Forcing his headset off you, you couldn't do anything but lean against his desk, trying to regulate your breathing pattern back to normal.

"..We're not done here," Choso laughed behind you, your cunt still dripping of his thick load. His hands roughly turned your body around, placing you on top the desk to face him. Using his foot to push the chair away, he lined his cock with your hole again, using his cum that was already inside of you as lube.

"Oh m-my- Choso!" You yelped, one hand taking grip onto his shoulder for support, the other holding knocking his keyboard out of the way, trying to find something to hold onto other than his shoulder.

His forehead rested against yours, the staggering movement of his hips causing the desk itself to shake under the two of you. Choso watched as his cock disappeared in and out of your hole, grunts coming out through his clench teeth as he wrapped his large hands around your thighs. He wanted more, and wasn't going to stop anytime soon.

"..Good girl," He gritted through his teeth, "..I love t-this pussy, and you." Choso's hands pressed flat against the desk, his lips locking onto yours. His cock was coated in a mixture of his and your own cum, your sweaty bodies intimately hugging against each other.

Choso wanted to feel all you, he just craved more and more each minute. His hands shakily held onto the sides of your waist, his lips moving to your jaw to plant more kisses.

"You're so beautiful, look at me baby." Choso lightly tapped the side of your face, telling you to maintain eye contact.

Obeying, you kept your eyes open; looking into his but not a thought behind your own eyes. You only continued to whine under his touch, overstimulated from how much he's used you like a cock whore. You were so close to losing your mind, drunk off his cock.

Choso too, was lost in your pussy. God, was he whipped— If only he could stay inside you forever, he definitely would. This whole time he was busy cursing at himself, how much of an idiot he is to not appreciate what he has - you. Your cheeks were stained with your hot tears, Choso hushing you and wiping them away every now and then.

“S-Shit, I’m gonna cum again.” He pants, feeling his balls tighten for the second time, the tightness of your pussy heightening his stimulation.

Your hands cupped both of his cheeks, pulling him in for a kiss. His thrusts turning sloppy, you cooed. “..Cum for me, I want it all inside..”

This caused the coil inside of Choso to snap, him desperately whimpering into your ear as he hid his face in the crook of your neck. “F-fu-ck..” Tightly holding onto the flesh of your hips, he made sure his second load stayed inside of you.

Sliding his cock out, Choso rested his heavy cock just above your pussy. Making sure he planted a peck on your forehead, trying to catch his breath. The two of you laugh, your bodies aching and sweaty, his entire desk and chair a mess.

Reaching for something, you blinked as Choso grabbed his headset that ended up on the other side of the desk. Placing one side against his ear, he spoke into the mic. "..GG."

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ © luvwestwood ‘24 all works are owned by me, and originally come from my own head. please do not re-post on a third party platform without my permission!

⊹ ࣪ ˖ ⤳ as always, thank you for the love on each and every one of my posts! it means the world to me 🎀🩷

[luvwestwood masterlist]

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #choso kamo smut #choso kamo x reader #choso smut #choso kamo #choso x reader #jjk choso #choso x you #jjk drabbles #jjk smut

5K notes · View notes

milla-frenchy · 4 months ago

Text

Push it

3k4 | Joel Miller x fem reader | ao3 | Masterlist

Summary: you have a secret “relationship” with Joel, your dad's best friend. You know you can't have more, but you can’t resist the idea to provoke him a little

Warnings: 18+ mdni. Age gap (reader early 20s, Joel late 40s), Joel is a grumpy, possessive, jealous man, reader is a brat. Grinding, dry humping, oral (f/m), pussy slapping, spanking, degradation, rough sex, dirty talk, cum eating, squirting, piv, creampie

a/n: so, this is my first dbf!Joel fic. Thank you anon, for your ask ❤️ I hope you'll like it 🙏

@aurorawritestoescape thank you for beta-ing baby 💕🫶

dividers @saradika-graphics 🙏

The fic is titled after “Push it” by Garbage

Joel was looking at you walking back and forth from the dining room and the kitchen, swaying your hips and teasing him in your short dress. And if your father had been paying any attention to him instead of the game on TV, he would have noticed the way Joel was biting his upper lip or rubbing his hands together. Joel was nervous, and the more nervous he got, the more you teased him.

“Damn brat,” Joel muttered under his breath.

“What?” your father asked.

“Nothing,” he replied and then sighed. “Just said that player really sucks, that’s all.”

“I think he’s hot,” you said cheerfully. “How old is he?”

“A little too old for you to be interested, honey. Over 30 years old.”

You scoffed at your father’s words, and you were pretty sure you heard “jesus” coming out of Joel’s mouth.

You spent the rest of the match pulling down your neckline to expose more of your cleavage or hiking your dress up your thighs. You were careful to do it in a way that your father wouldn’t consider inappropriate if he ever looked at you at some point, but he was captivated by the game.

Your and Joel’s gazes met often and he gave you a few serious warning stares that you ignored shamelessly. You didn’t even try to hide your satisfaction each time he had to readjust his jeans.

Once the match was over, you brought their empty beer bottles back to the kitchen, and Joel's firm hand closed around your arm as soon as you were there.

“The hell you doin’?” he grumbled.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“Cut the crap, sweetheart,” he hissed through his teeth. “Acting like a damn tease, makin’ me hard during the game? In front of your father, goddamn it! Could even see you’re wearing the black lingerie.”

“Ooooh… yeah, your favorite. Too bad you made it very clear the last time you filled me up- we fuck just for fun, right? So let me have fun and act as I please in my father's house. And let go of me.”

But he squeezed harder. “Keep it down,” he growled. “And that ain’t what I said.”

“Whatever. Next time you see me, I may be with my boyfriend.”

“What boyfriend?” His nostrils flared and you loved the sight.

“The one I’m probably gonna meet tonight, when I go out with my friends. The one who’ll appreciate my lingerie. Let go of me,” you repeated, yanking yourself free.

You headed towards the kitchen door, and after glancing behind, you saw him leaning against the counter. Annoyed, dark eyes, eyebrows furrowed, arm muscles stretching his black t-shirt. Irritation suited him well, he was even more handsome than usual. You tried to ignore the racing of your heart as you stepped back into the dining room.

“Can you help me with the internet at home?" he asked you in front of your father. “Connection ain't working.”

“I’m sorry, Joel, I can’t right now. I have to get ready, I’m going out tonight and my friends are picking me up in an hour.”

“Jesus, your manners?!” your father replied as if you had said the most impolite thing in the world. “Go help Joel. Your friends can wait a few minutes.”

You rolled your eyes, careful so that only Joel could see you. He smirked in a way that was so feline that you felt yourself dripping. He walked out towards his house, not checking if you were following him. He knew you were.

Once home he sat down on his couch, resting his right arm on the backrest.

“What's the problem with the internet?”

“Ain't got any problems. Come here,” he said, patting his thighs.

“What makes you think I wanna sit on your lap?”

“Pussy's dripping. Can smell it from here.”

You rolled your eyes but you walked over to him and straddled him, placing your hands on his broad shoulders. He grabbed your hips tightly and positioned you how he exactly wanted you, his stiff shaft in his jeans against your folds covered only by your black panties. Your eyes sparkled when you felt his manhood. His were fixed on yours. Full of confidence, the eyes of a mature man, aware of his power of seduction over you.

“Stop being a brat and grind on me. I know you need it bad.”

You rolled your hips slowly, grinding against his hard cock. His hands firmly laid on your hips, but letting you lead the pace. His jeans almost hurt your inner thighs but you needed that friction against your soaked pussy. That sweet pain, the one that helps to feel better, like an itch that can be relieved only when you scratch it a little. He pulled your neckline down roughly, cupping your breasts in his palms before taking a nipple in his mouth, sucking and licking it.

“Joel…,” you whimpered.

“Keep humping me, sweetheart. Yeah, just like that. She needs it, uh?”

He took your nipple back in his mouth, licking and then nibbling on it lightly, pressing on your shoulders to feel you more.

“Use me. Use me to get off,” he said, the need in his voice showing you how much he loved feeling you rub yourself against him. You kept rolling your hips, moaning “Joel, Joel…,” your whimpers getting louder and louder, until you breathed out “it’s good, so good, I’m gonna come,” just before you came against him, whining into his neck, trembling. Your desire wetting your panties even more and flowing onto his jeans.

You let your forehead rest against him, panting into his skin that you kissed as he stroked your back, before you pulled back and faced his dark eyes.

“I wanna suck your cock,” you said, kneeling down and unzipping his jeans.

“Yeah? Gonna help me with that after your little game? That's what you wanted, uh? Wanted me to get fuckin’ hard, while I couldn't do anything about it.”

You nodded, there was no more brat attitude left in you, just eagerness as you pulled his cock out gently, and watched his weeping, red tip. You licked your lips and spread the precum around his slit with your thumb. You sucked him the way he liked, lingering on his tip for a long time, licking, sucking. Each time, you wanted to give him the sloppiest head, so that he wouldn’t think about anyone else. Wouldn’t want anyone else.

When you took his length in your mouth, getting used to its thickness, pressing your tongue against his quivering skin, you felt him shiver. Until he pressed his cock against the back of your throat, and finally put his hands on your head. You loved feeling his underlying power, his pressure on your temples.

“Don’t move,” he said in a low voice, his length buried in your hot throat. You felt his tip twitch. Finally he started to thrust, fucking your mouth and your throat, using you as a fuck hole.

The mouth of his best friend’s daughter. He didn’t think about it anymore, when he was buried in one of your three holes. His remorse was forgotten. He didn’t care what could happen next, where this relationship or whatever it was, would take both of you. Didn't think about the consequences anymore. Only your warmth, your tightness welcoming his cock, mattered.

His hands firmly gripping your head, he thrusted in, and began fucking your mouth relentlessly. From the first time he’d fucked you, you noticed how different he was from your previous boyfriends. He loved when you teased him. He loved being seated on his couch, manspreading, while you were dancing lasciviously in front of him, waiting for him to break and reach out to you. But sometimes, often, you were the one breaking first.

When you danced like that, his gaze was full of promise. Promise to fuck you so well you’d forget your own name when he was done with you.

Guys of your age didn’t have that patience.

He loved to make you come several times before spilling his cum. Sometimes he made you come again after, with his tongue or fingers, leaving you breathless and cock dumb.

Your ex boyfriends usually didn’t care.

But he cared.

You let him use your mouth, let him move your head back and forth. Let him bury himself in the back of your throat. You learned not to gag anymore, when he fucked it. He trained you to do it.

His hands froze on your temples, and you knew he was about to shoot hot ropes of cum that would hit the back of your throat.

“Fuck, ‘m gonna come… swallow all of it, sweetheart. Like a good girl, just like I taught you.”

His cum spurted out, and drop by drop, you swallowed it all. Then you carefully cleaned his shaft, his tip, until he pulled out. He put his cock back in his pants, and zipped them.

“You should go, you’re gonna be late.”

“Do you have something to tell me, Joel?”

“Good evening?” He sighed when he saw your eyes, a little blurry, and added “and keep those wet panties on. I want you to remember how you came humping me, while you’re out with your friends.”

You didn’t try to meet his gaze when you heard his words, and you left.

Babe? Babe!” You heard your friend’s voice in the distance. You were so lost in your thoughts. Always the same. Joel.

“What’s wrong with you?”

You spread your hands in front of you, as if to mean you had no idea what she was talking about.

“We’re supposed to have fun and you seem… somewhere else. What’s on your mind, babe?”

You answered that everything was fine, and tried to push Joel out of your thoughts. Joel who had told you that you weren’t a couple, that you didn’t have a relationship because your father, other people couldn’t know. That this thing between you was a bonus that you were giving each other. But that there couldn’t be more.

So when a guy of your age approached you and asked you to dance, you didn’t say no. When he offered you a drink and asked if you wanted to join him in the bathroom of the bar, you didn’t say no either. Sat on the bathroom sink, you let him eat you out.

And you only thought about Joel who always did it so perfectly, knew when to lick lightly, when to suck on your clit, knew how to fill you with two of his fingers. You had to think about him, the whole time that guy was eating you out. You had to think about Joel’s beard and mustache, scratching tenderly or roughly against your sensitive skin.

It was the only way for you to come.

When you left the bathroom, Joel was the first person you saw. Dark stare. Then darker than ever, when his gaze fell on the man who walked out of the room right after you. You froze before heading to your table, but he grabbed your arm before you sat down.

“I’m taking you back home. Now.”

“Are you mad? I come home whenever I want.”

“Wow wow! What’s going on? Are you her dad?” Joel looked at this man whose name you didn't even know, from his full height, fists clenched. Joel looked at him as if he wanted to throw him to the ground, making him take a step back.

“No I ain’t her dad, luckily for you”, he growled. He turned to you before adding “I said, now.”

You followed him, like a docile dog. Turned on by his jealousy and attitude.

“Get in the damn car,” he grumbled. He started driving, silent, hands clenching the wheel until his knuckles were white.

“Joel…”

“Don’t,” he rambled. “Don’t say a word.”

You sank into the seat, waiting for him to drop you off at your place. But he pulled into his driveway.

“Follow me,” he said, without waiting for you.

When you joined him at his house, his hands were on his hips, his gaze turned towards the ground.

“You fucked him?” he asked in a low voice.

“No. No I didn't.”

“He fucked you?”

“No, damn… He didn't fuck me.”

“Yeah?” He raised his eyebrows, in a way that was clear- he didn't believe a word you were telling him.

“Yeah,” you confirmed.

“Don't lie to me. You got that “just fucked” face.”

“Damn, I… He went down on me, that's all.”

“You let him go down on you? On that pussy?”

If you didn't know him, his tone might have seemed detached. But you had known him for a long time, and the surprise mixed with jealousy didn't escape you. Actually, it was even more than a surprise. Almost a shock.

You even felt like he was holding back from saying “my pussy.” But he had been clear about you two. Fun.

“Why do you care? You don’t want anything serious.”

“He ate you with your wet panties on? He pushed them to the side?” You nodded shyly, almost embarrassed.

“Fuck, come here,” he said, grabbing you by the hips before pulling you back towards the couch, your feet dragging in an attempt to keep up with his pace.

He pushed you roughly to sit you down and knelt down in front of you. He pulled your dress up and practically ripped your panties off, and yanked your hips towards the edge of the couch.

“I think this pussy needs to remember who makes her come,” he growled, already pushing two fingers inside you. “You're fucking soaked. You came in his damn mouth?”

“Yes I… Fuck, Joel!” He was fingering your pussy quickly, as if he wanted to remove any memory of any man other than himself.

“Was he good at it?”

“Yeah, he was perfect. Made me come so quickly.”

He slapped your swollen clit and you whined, tears at the corner of your eyes.

“I said, don't lie to me,” he spat at you, stopping his fingers deep inside your pussy.

You lowered your head before answering.

“No, he wasn't good at it. Had to think about someone else to come. Had to think about you,” you whined. “Stop being mean to me, I didn't do anything wrong!”

“I need to remind you how this cunt needs to be eaten. Like the damn slut she belongs to.”

This wasn't the first time he'd degraded you. He'd noticed early on how receptive you were to it. And the way your pussy squeezed his fingers couldn't hide it, once again.

He settled between your thighs, lapping at your cunt still soaked with another man’s saliva, your pleasure and your desire for Joel.

He dove in like it was his last meal on earth, lapping, sucking, mixing his saliva with someone else's and he didn't care. Your hands tangled in his curls. Your orgasm was building and Joel stopped just before you exploded on his fingers and tongue.

“No Joel! Please, why did you stop?”

“I don't want another tongue on this cunt. Ya hear me?”

“But you said…” He slapped your clit again, making you whimper.

“Repeat it.”

“I… fuck, Joel! Jesus… You don't want another tongue on this cunt.”

“If I see you with anyone else again, if I hear about you with anyone else, I’ll spank you so hard you won’t be able to sit down for days.”

Your pussy clenched around his fingers without you being able to control your body.

“Jesus Christ, you fuckin’ like it? You want to get punished over my knee like the dirty little brat you are?”

“I… no, I… fuck…”

“Pussy's drooling even more. Unbelievable…” He started to finger you again, slowly, and placed his thumb on your swollen and sensitive clit, making you whimper. “You were a good girl, with proper manners. And now… can't think straight since you took my fat cock, right?”

“I'm… fuck. I'm a good girl.”

“Really?” he smirked darkly. “Good girls don’t get their pussy eaten by a stranger in a damn bar.” He leaned down and licked a long stripe from your hole already filled with his fingers to your clit, before stopping again cruelly. “Good girls don’t make their man jealous,” he added before diving between your thighs, fingering you fast and so hard that his knuckles tapped against your entrance. His tongue focused on your clit, swirling around it perfectly.

“My… my man?”

He didn't answer, growling from the depths of your thighs, making you squirm on his fingers as he fingered you hard, until jets spurted out suddenly and wetted his face.

“Fuck yeah! that’s a good girl, squirting on my face, jesus, sweetheart…”

You were completely gone, not realizing that you were cumming on his fingers still buried inside you, until he replaced them with his tongue. He drank everything you gave him, greedy, eager. You kept squirming but his strong grip kept you seated on the couch.

When your jolts stopped, he grabbed your arm to lift you up and bent you over the dining room table. His hand tightened on the back of your neck, and he unzipped his jeans, lowering them mid-thigh with the other one, before sinking into you in one go, grunting like an animal.

He buried his fingers in the flesh of your hip, pumping into you. Hard, deep thrusts, growling “take it, just like that,” and you could only take it. Letting him feed on your needy pussy, on your low moans that he could barely hear, fucking you so hard that you were almost speechless except for the whimpers.

“Fuck, you’re taking me so good.” He kept thrusting in, filling you like only he knew how.

“Harder, Joel. Harder, please,” you begged.

“Jesus…”

Clinging to the edge of the table, you tried to remain as still as possible despite his roughness that threw you forward with every thrust.

“Say my name”, he said in a needy voice. You didn’t hear him and he scoffed. “Too cock dumb to even hear me,” he growled before spanking your ass, hard, making you squeal.

“Joel!!!”

“Oh, you’re back? I said, say my fucking name.”

“J… Joel…”

“That’s right. Whose pussy is this?”

“Yours.”

A second spank landed on your already red skin.

“Say it again.”

“Damn, Joel?! Your pussy… my pussy’s yours, damnit…”

A third spank, even harder than the other ones. “Joel, what the fuck??” you whined.

“Squeezin’ me so tight, each time I spank you… don’t pretend you don’t like it, dirty fucking girl.”

You didn't answer. He was right, you liked it. He knew it and you knew it. You liked his strength, you liked that he used you. You liked being his.

“I’m gonna come. Gonna fill you up, fuck!”

He shot his cum deep in your pussy and didn't stop thrusting, pumping you full until you milked his cock.

Your hand against the wood of the table, you were breathing heavily, trying to catch your breath as his heavy body pressed against yours.

“You said it was just for fun… What happened?” you murmured.

“Ain’t what I said. I said, your father can't know. The neighbors, your friends, can't know. But you… you gotta know. I don't share. Got it?”

“Yeah… got it.”

You smiled, feeling his breath against your neck, and his hand tightening on yours, on the wood of the table.

Thank you for reading 🙏

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated ❤️

Follow @millafics and turn notifications on for fics updates

@littlemisspascal @pascalsanctuary @survivingandenduring

npt: tagging those who showed interest in the wip wednesday post, love you ❤️

@mermaidgirl30 @thundermartini @evolnoomym @ace-turned-confused @sawymredfox

@604to647 @fruityreads @mountainsandmayhem @for-a-longlongtime

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #dbf!joel #joel miller smut #pedro pascal #tlou #pedro pascal characters #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x you #the last of us hbo #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #the last of us #joel x reader #joel x you #pedro pascal fandom

1K notes · View notes

navybrat817 · 5 months ago

Text

You're a Firework

Pairing: Roommate!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader Summary: You're all set to watch fireworks with the gang and Bucky can't keep his hands to himself. Word Count: Over 2k Warnings: Explicit sexual content, vaginal fingering, semi-public sexy times, pet names, inner monologue, established relationship, humor, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?). A/N: I KNOW it's Steve's birthday, but my muse demanded Stud and Smartie. ❤️ I'm so sorry, lovelies. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

“You know,” Natasha began as she handed you a drink. “You and Bucky could've had your wedding today. No one would have objected.”

“With Steve's birthday right around the corner? And take away from Sam’s amazing barbeque? No way,” you smiled, stepping out of the way as Clint walked by with sparklers in each hand. You refused to take attention away from either of them. “I’m glad we’re all hanging out though.”

Today was a good day. Not only was the weather as close to perfect as it could get, not too warm or too cold, it was a chance to get together and mingle since everyone had a few days off. Between the sunshine, food, and games, the gang had a lot of fun. You imagined your wedding reception would be fun, too.

Maybe the two of you could even have sparklers to celebrate, if only to entertain Clint.

“Bucky called you his wife earlier,” the redhead commented.

“He did?” You smiled, your heart swelling.

“He did. When you beat Sam at horseshoes, he looked right at Steve and said, ‘that’s my wife' with a huge smile on his face.”

Yeah, I am. Almost.

You nearly swooned, giving your fiancé a glance as he set his chair by the fire pit. “And that’s my husband.”

Natasha lightheartedly rolled her eyes and nudged you. “Better go and join him then. The fireworks are going to start soon,” she said, heading to her seat beside Clint. The town was shooting off fireworks in the nearby park, but you all decided it was better to hang back. The yard was a great spot to view them and no one had to worry about the crowd.

“Be right there,” you said, shivering as a light breeze rolled in. Sam had the fire going, but you hadn't realized how chilly it was now that it was dark. Grabbing your blanket from your bag nearby, you also realized as you walked over to the gang that there wasn't a place for you to sit. Bucky looked your way with a gentle smile and patted his thigh before you could ask if there was an extra chair available inside. You caught a glimpse of heat in his eyes as you made your way closer.

You loved that look.

“Is that my seat?” You asked.

“This could be your seat.” Bucky pointed at his face as you bit your lip. If everyone wasn’t around, you’d consider it. “But this one might be more comfortable to watch the fireworks,” he added, patting his massive thigh again.

His face. His thigh. Both were incredible places to sit.

“Yeah, comfortable. That’s the word,” you teased, shrieking as he dragged you onto his lap once you were within reach. You were lucky you didn't spill your drink. “Easy, tiger.”

He growled and nuzzled your neck once you situated yourself and placed your drink the cup holder. “This tiger will also keep you warm,” he promised.

“Aww. You two are just the cutest,” Sam said, swigging his beer with a chuckle when Bucky huffed.

“Yeah, we are. And in case you forgot, my girl kicked your ass earlier. Beauty, brains, and brawn,” he boasted. You didn’t have to look back to see the smug smile on his face. “Proud of you.”

I will not get giddy or aroused from that praise.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. I’ll get you next time,” Sam scoffed, looking over at you with a smile to let you know it was in good fun. He was a good guy, like Steve. You hoped they each found someone who made them feel the way Bucky made you feel.

“Or she’ll kick your ass again,” Bucky said without skipping a beat.

Oh, boys. So endearing. So competitive.

“Enough of that. Sam, I’m pretty sure I got lucky and I’d love a rematch. Stud, you just concentrate on keeping me warm,” you teased, draping the blanket over both of you. His embrace was always warm. “Surprised we don't have s’mores.”

“Those are for after the fireworks,” Steve said from the other side of you.

You smiled over at him before tilting your head back to gaze at Bucky. You weren't sure if the guys did it on purpose, but they each wore the same tight fitting T-shirt in patriotic colors. They all looked handsome, but your man looked look sex on legs. The love of your life would always turn your head.

“Not for us,” Bucky said, placing a kiss on your shoulder as his hand rested possessively on your hip. “We’re going to bed.”

You giggled and snuggled back against him when the rest of the gang protested. “But what if I want a s'more?”

“I’ll personally make you one and feed it to you in bed,” he half growled.

“You’re really not going to stay up with us?” Steve asked, a knowing look on his face.

“Oh, I’m sure something will get up,” Natasha deadpanned, making everyone laugh. She wasn't wrong.

“On your birthday, we’ll stay up as late as you want. Tonight, we’re watching the fireworks and going to bed,” Bucky grumbled, brushing a finger over your engagement ring. “Unless you really want to stay out here.”

You giggled again. Bucky had to share your attention with everyone all day and was still sharing it now. He was more than ready to have you all to himself. You understood the feeling.

“I’m fine with going inside after the fireworks. We’ll check on the cats and then go to bed,” you assured him.

With everyone drinking, you all decided it was better to crash in the same place instead of going home. Neither of you wanted to leave Alpine or Soot at your place though in case any neighbors decided to shoot fireworks off the roof, so you brought them over. They had a space set up under the guest bed with some white noise to help block out some of the sound. Anything to help put them at ease.

Bucky tilted your chin a bit more to place a soft kiss on your lips, the tension crackling like the fireworks had already started. “Thank you, Smartie.”

“You’re welcome, Stud.”

As if on cue, the show began.

You looked up at the sky in awe as the first firework rushed into the air. An explosion followed by a vivid display of light, they were like rainbows in the night brightening the darkness with color. They were beauty and wonder, a form of art that faded almost as quickly as it was created. Watching with loved ones made it all the more special.

You tilted your head and smiled when you caught Bucky staring back at you. “Why aren't you looking at the sky?”

“Why aren't you?” He teased, bumping his nose against yours. “Besides, I don't need to watch the sky when I have the most beautiful view right here.”

Your cheeks warmed. So did your heart. “You flatter me so,” you whispered, looking back at the sky again.

Bangs, crackles, and thunderous sounds continued to fill the air with the gorgeous display. You couldn’t keep the smile off your face. You almost regretted not having your phone beside you so you could take some pictures.

Though you likely would’ve dropped it when you felt Bucky’s hand move from your hip to under your skirt.

“Stud?” You gasped, quickly looking around as his hand trailed up your thigh. No one was looking your way. They were too occupied with the fireworks.

“Just keep looking at the sky, Smartie,” he said against your ear, your legs opening more as his hand found its prize. “And I'll keep touching you.”

Oh, fuck.

You shivered in his grasp despite the blanket and his body providing more than enough heat. His touch was possessive yet tender and you could feel your body turn to jelly as he rubbed you through your panties. You tried to concentrate on the colors above you, the material damp from his expert touch. And you couldn't stop your heart from pounding in your ears, adding the explosive noises around you.

More fireworks went off, but you blocked out the “oohs” of your friends as he pushed the wet fabric aside. “Bucky,” you whimpered, biting your tongue when he traced a finger along your slick pussy.

“I’ve wanted to touch you all day,” he whispered against your neck, teasing your folds. Your hole clenched before the fingertip even touched it. “I can't believe you’re mine. Keep asking myself how I got so lucky.”

I’m the lucky one.

His finger breached you, making you gasp and grip his arm. His palm pressed against your clit and you couldn’t help but push your hips down, seeking out more friction. You wanted to take care of him, too. Maybe when the two of you went to bed…

Another finger slipped in, curling and thrusting quickly. If you were at home, he’d take more time in taking you apart. He wouldn't stop until you soaked the sheets and even then he might keep going. And he'd make sure you were a quivering mess, mewling and begging for mercy or reprieve.

“Have I told you today how much I love you, babydoll?” He asked, static pleasure coursing through your body as you climbed higher.

Orgasms were a lot like fireworks. Some tumbled slowly in the sky, like a slow fire that coursed through your veins. Others exploded, so large and powerful that you couldn’t keep the sounds of awe in. Then there were small bursts, the ones that got the job done and still felt good.

You wondered what kind of orgasm Bucky would give you tonight.

“I love you, too,” you whispered, colors dancing behind your eyes as you shut them.

You wanted to shout how much you loved Bucky Barnes. You wanted your love for him to burst through the sky like a shooting star. But you didn’t need to put on a show for him to know you were his. He knew you belonged to him.

But you’d still have to try and keep quiet as you clenched around his fingers.

“Please,” you whispered, ready to fall over the edge as his palm rubbed your clit again.

Your head turned and his mouth slanted against yours to swallow down your moan. “Open your eyes,” he whispered, his fingers curling once more as you listened to his command and watched the colors light up his blue eyes. “And come for me.”

Your walls pulsed as the finale began, your cry drowned out by the rapid booms. Your wetness coated his fingers, every nerve cell vibrating as brilliant hues illuminated the sky. The hues swirled in your dizzying head, too. You were flying. Sinking. Floating.

You were a firework.

“Beautiful,” Bucky whispered, guiding you back to him.

Your body stayed lax against his, wishing he didn't have to take his fingers out. “You’re beautiful,” you exhaled, watching him subtly bring his hand to his mouth to taste your release. “Menace,” you added.

This man. I really just let him finger bang me with everyone sitting around.

“Yeah, I am,” he smiled, placing another kiss on your lips as Steve and Sam got up. Natasha and Clint were already up, too, to get more drinks.

If anyone knew what happened, they didn't draw any attention to it.

“Those were even better than last year,” Sam said.

“They were. And now we can have s'mores,” the blonde smiled, stopping to look at his best friend. “I thought you two were going to bed.”

“In a minute,” Bucky said, shifting his hips under yours to let you feel how hard he was. Getting you off turned him on. “Think I need to relax a bit more.”

Yeah, so no one sees you walking around with a raging hard-on.

You wiggled your hips, smiling when your fiancé quietly groaned. “Yeah. Relax,” you sighed, feeling him squeeze your thigh in a warning.

Well, he wanted your attention before and now he had it.

And I’ll make him see fireworks before the night is over, too.

Stud and Smartie need to talk to my muse and make sure Steve has a good birthday. 🥰 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

2K notes · View notes

iamred-iamyellow · 5 months ago

Text

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Close To You

♥ masterlist

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x lily zneimer x f!singer!webber!reader

♥ synopsis: as the daughter of mark webber you got to know oscar piastri pretty quick and soon enough the two of you were dating. no one had known that you both were also dating lily, leading everyone to believe the leaked pictures of her and Oscar was evidence he was cheating on you. they couldn’t have been more wrong

♥ smau - fc: gracie abrams - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing and hate comments !!!

♥ a/n: my first poly fic! ty to bestie liz and cleo for hyping me up <3

liked by aussiegrit, oliviarodrigo, taylorswift and 656,305 more

y/n.webber channel that sad energy into a song queen

view comments

user8 hope you're doing well 💛

user3 ilyy

user6 pls shes so unserious 😭

user5 that's so real

user9 wait so did her and her boyfriend break up?

user2 I'm pretty sure. everyone's been speculating it and they haven't been seen together in a long time

user1 is she making a new album ???

user10 liv and tay in the likess 🫶

user7 I still can't believe she's mark's daughter omggg

user12 those family genetics 😍

user2 we love you <3

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, oliviarodrigo, and 583,694 more

y/n.webber cut my hair in the way that i've wanted

view comments

user9 change my number and bury my wallet !!!

user8 augusta <3

user12 LOVE

mclarenf1 we'll see you at the GP

y/n.webber <3

user10 shut up y/n is gonna be there?

user6 I thought she had a concert that day?

user1 @/user6 she has one the night before :)

user5 no bc how is she so pretty

user13 oscar in the likes 👀

user7 GORGEOUS

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by y/n.webber, user7, user12 and 502,669 more

f1gossip mark, y/n, and oscar are ready for the australian grand prix

view comments

y/n.webber @/aussiegrit I'm starting to think you like Oscar more than me :(

oscarpiastri he does ❤️

yourusername 🖕

user8 now kiss

user14 enemies to lovers

user4 my favorite australian trio

user1 why'd he have to shave his beard 😔

user9 THE CAT

user2 oscar and mark pookie off

user10 everyone pray for an oscar home race podium

user3 🕯️oscar home race win 🕯️

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, aussiegrit, and 703,562 more

y/n.webber date night <3

view comments

user7 I love how she doesn't even have to tell us she's dating oscar because we all just know

user9 THEM WATCHING TANGLED 😭🫶

user3 oscar getting her lilies :')

y/n.webber actually I got him lilies

oscarpiastri 🧡

*liked by original poster*

user4 this is the cutest shit I've ever seen

user1 mark in the likesss looks like oscar has the stamp of approval

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by y/n.webber, aussiegrit, and 750,683 more

oscarpiastri lando crashed our date

view comments

landonorris I did not "crash" your date I just happened to be there.

oscarpiastri as if you didn't follow us

y/n.webber @/landonorris you LITERALLY crashed into the back of my kart

mclarenf1 lando we talked about your internet stalking problem.

user8 PLEASE 💀

user6 why'd they have to call him out like that 😭

user2 the admins are my favorite part of the f1 cinematic universe

-A Few Months Later-

liked by aarondessner, taylorswift, and 984,059 more

y/n.webber The Secret Of Us is out now! The songs on this album are a collection of my life these past few months and I’m so excited to share them with you all. Special thank you to @/aarondessner and @/taylorswift I love you both 💛

view comments

user1 I hope she rips oscar to shreds

user7 y/n better than revenge era

user9 !!!

user3 girl you can do so much better than o***r

user12 I'm so ready to scream and cry to this

user2 I cannot believe he cheated on her

user16 out of all the guys on the grid OSCAR?!?!

user11 kitten I'll be honest I'm still not over good riddance 😔

user8 LMAO

user9 so true 😭

user15 hyped af for the taylor collab

user16 the fact that she's the daughter of mark, the man who supported him since day one and he STILL cheated on her is CRAZYY

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by taylorswift, oliviarodrigo, and 985,750 more

y/n.webber throwback to my time at last year's era's tour. I'm so glad to be back 🩷

view comments

taylorswift were so glad to have you <3

*liked by original poster*

oliviarodrigo miss youuu

yourusername I miss you too babes

user9 "and you knew my last love let me down" OSCARRRRAHHH

user7 AND I BET HES AT HER PLACE RIGHT NOW

user10 I'm so excited to see you

user16 he fumbled so hard

user4 we love you <3

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, lilyzneimer, and 1,194,203 more

y/n.webber I understand that, without my agreement, @/f1gossip put out a post a week ago that said Oscar Piastri was cheating on me. This is wrong and I am in a happy relationship with both Oscar and Lily. He did not cheat on me.

view comments

lilyzneimer I love you 🩷

y/n.webber I love you more

user7 😨

user1 I'm not even sure what to say

user12 I'm so sorry oscar we weren't familiar with your game 😭

user3 I-

user6 in true bi panic fashion

user4 FUCK 😭

user19 everyone say sorry Oscar

user2 sorry oscar

user5 we're sorry Oscar :(

user13 WE DIDN'T KNOW WE SWEAR

user10 sorry Oscar 😔

user21 💖💜💙

user23 the @ is such a boss bitch move

user8 saying sorry to Oscar online isn't enough I need to revoke my statements in a court of law

user7 same

liked by lilyzneimer, y/n.webber, alexandrasaintmleux and 884,472 more oscarpiastri flowers for my favs 💐

view comments

y/n.webber my loves 🩷

lilyzneimer 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩

user7 my favorite throuple

user23 as if you weren't hating on oscar yesterday

user7 and I am deeply ashamed

user12 we said we're sorry :(

user6 yea oscar x lily x y/n are cute but wheres mark x fernando x taylor

user9 as in swift? 😭

user6 yes.

alexandrasaintmleux you three are so cute

y/n.webber <3

1K notes · View notes

swordgrace · 5 months ago

Text

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐎𝐑 𝐃𝐄𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 — 𝐈𝐈.

༺ jacaerys velaryon x fem!reader.

SYNOPSIS: a library on dragonstone, a flight on dragonback, and a tour of aegon’s garden — your growing bond with jacaerys continues to grow amidst the looming shadow of war.

note: jacaerys is nineteen, reader is eighteen. I took creative liberties with Dragonstone & if you are interested in reading more about Aegon’s Garden, click here.

༺ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

༆ 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄.

༺ FORMAT: one-shot — series, originally a request.

༺ WORD COUNT: 13.1K.

༺ WARNINGS: SMUT (mdni), friends to lovers, sexual inexperience, risky sex, sex in a public location (the beach), p in v sex (unprotected), missionary position, riding (reader on top), lots of kissing and sweeter antics, srisk of getting caught, handjob, vaginal fingering, clit play, hair pulling kink, neck kissing, tiddy sucking, desperate jace, confession of feelings, romantic rides on dragonback, romantic garden strolls. Mild canon divergence. Again, Jacaerys is a sweet lover who is all wrapped up in the reader.

༺ AUTHOR’S NOTE: We’re back! I am so excited to announce that this will now be a series! I am aiming to push out weekly uploads that will follow the storyline of S2. I am so, SO excited to keep writing and delivering Jace content! Next part will definitely be more angsty, and the angst will only ramp up as the series progresses. Thank you to everyone who is reading and supporting my work, it means the world to me! I hope you all enjoy! ❤️

𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐢𝐭 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐬𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐝𝐚𝐰𝐧, dark curls disheveled and tossed around his head like some halo. The freckles along his back reminded you of a fawn, a tawny hue, hundreds of them smattered across his back.

The warmth of his body nestled to yours, his arm draped across your midsection, fingers idly gripping at your side, as if you might drift away during slumber. He was pretty when he slept, the stress in his face no longer prevalent, muscles no longer coiled with tension.

You didn’t want him to go — you wanted him here, tangled around you, a sight that would be burned into your mind with each passing thought. Yet, duty prevented him from staying, and it prevented you from keeping him here.

“Jacaerys,” You whispered, gently rousing him from his deep sleep. If he were to look inconspicuous, it would be best if he returned to his quarters before the whole of Dragonstone began to awake. “It’s dawn.”

Two words he never wanted to hear — and if the world turned in his favor, he would simply bring you close and fall back asleep. Unfortunately, it wasn’t an option for him. He lifted his head, groggy yet happy, smiling at you as he would a lover.

“I wish that I did not have to leave,” He murmured, reaching for your face, thumb tracing the delicate slope of your jaw. You knew that he was earnest, meaningful in his words — you understood his station. “I should get dressed.” Jace sighed, rolling from the sanctuary of your bed.

You watched, enraptured as he redressed himself, clad in the billowing tunic he wore last night, like a gallant prince ripped straight from a fairytale. You slid into the sleek gossamer of your evening robe, feeling the weight of reality weigh heavy upon you.

He turned, pressing a lingering kiss against your forehead. It was tinged with melancholy, with a longing to stay by your side, yet it wasn’t possible — not now. He held you for a moment longer, basking in your beauty, in the brilliance of your presence.

“I will see you soon, my Prince.”

𝐒𝐦𝐨𝐤𝐲 𝐚𝐢𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐬, 𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐛𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐬𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞’𝐬 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐥𝐞.

In the humble glow of your chambers, you stood upon the small terrace, one that overlooked Blackwater Bay, far within the distance. It was a brief respite from your duties — the only time that allowed you proper contemplation.

As tensions grew, bubbling into a seething broil, you often noticed the tenuous frustration etched into Jace’s features — he wore it like a shroud, unable to keep from expressing his own disdain. With the Council urging Rhaenyra to act, to thrust the realm into war with the use of dragons, those closest to her felt the sting of her persuasion for peace.

The forlorn turmoil you felt from Rhaenyra came in waves — after Daemon had departed for an uncharted destination in the fallout of his spat with the Queen, you knew the weight of duty she was under. Jacaerys had adapted in Daemon’s absence, attempting to take the reins of leadership, or what was left of it.

It felt as if you were on a vessel without proper direction, being forced into tempestuous waters by a powerful gust of wind. Whatever came next, you could feel the uncertainty, the mounting stress.

You spent much of your morning in the presence of Elinda and Queen Rhaenyra, tending to Aegon and Viserys. The latter half was spent on the spine of Dragonstone, the massive wall of a walkway that led toward the rest of the island.

The strolls along the ramparts, the Dragon’s Tail, as you’d come to learn, often gave you much to consider, a place to allow your thoughts a clear sanctuary. Saltwater air, the hum of the beach, the clear horizon of a cloud-speckled sky — there was nothing like it.

Through the growing fog of war, your newfound relationship with Jacaerys had kept you afloat. After your tryst two nights prior, the atmosphere had shifted drastically, from cordial and friendly to romantic and intimate. You stole glances at him whenever you could, fleeting smiles reserved only for his eyes.

You hadn’t been able to kiss him since the morning he left your bed, but you had a feeling that an opportunity would present itself. With Daemon’s absence, you feared to leave Rhaenyra alone, but Elinda had offered to take watch should anything happen.

With your father briefly away to Crackclaw Point in order to amass funds for potential armies as the Master of Coin, it left you with only a handful to speak to. The peninsula that jutted out into the Narrow Sea was across the bay from Dragonstone — a fair distance, but not enough to cause you any worry.

The afternoon was uneventful and dismal at best, with those scurrying about the castle grounds. Shipments from Driftmark came in from several of their vessels, bringing food and supplies to Dragonstone. The obsidian castle was a gorgeous place — and you’d only scratched the surface in terms of exploration.

Jacaerys had spoken of Aegon’s Garden during the night you shared together, vowing to take you there should there be a lull in the chaos. You admired his loyalty to his mother, and you watched him brave the encroaching storm that was the Small Council.

Aimless wandering led you to the library within Dragonstone, an impressive architectural feat of scaling ceilings, with great stone staircases and many walls lined with scrolls and tomes alike. It was quiet when you entered through the doors, the halls illuminated by natural sunlight and the flickering of braziers and torches.

A familiar voice made your heart soar, when you realized that Jacaerys was here, too. He was accompanied by Joffrey and a handmaiden, one that patiently waited by the wayside for the princes to finish their time spent together.

The gentle timbre of Jace’s voice brought you a sense of peace, one that became increasingly harder to find with the inevitability of war. He was reading to Joffrey, hovering over his younger brother like a dutiful scholar. With Lucerys gone, his protectiveness was now clear as day, seeping into every bone within his body.

As soon as your footsteps fell across the stone floor, Jacaerys’s eyes drifted from the mountain of texts surrounding him to you — his smile was unmistakable. Something warm touched his gaze when your eyes locked together, prompting you to approach the table with a spring in your step.

“Lady Celtigar,” If it weren’t for the presence of his brother and his caretaker, he would’ve collected you into his arms for a kiss, even if the setting was somewhat risky. Jace couldn’t stop thinking about you — you occupied his every thought, at the forefront of his mind. “You are welcome to join us.”

Joffrey’s sudden excitement flourished to life when he saw you, and you watched as the little boy rushed out of his seat to come leaping into your arms. “I missed you!” He cried, little fists beating against your shoulders as he clung to you, mop of dark tresses bouncing with each movement.

“My Prince,” You beamed, scooping Joffrey up with ease as you held him close, returning his hug as you kept him aloft within one arm. “I’ve missed you too. What are you and your big brother up to, hm? You should be mindful of his lessons. He is a talented teacher.” Jace’s expression turned crimson at your playful compliment.

“I’m reading,” Joffrey explained as any child would, in a whimsical way that made little sense. Jacaerys was attempting to pass on High Valyrian to his sibling, given that he would be the Prince of Driftmark someday — the blood of Old Valyria lived within him. “Reading about dragons.”

Curious, your gaze flickered toward Jace as you approached the slab of stone, lowering yourself upon the benches beside it. Joffrey hadn’t left your lap, grabbing one of the books as he pointed to an illustration of a massive dragon with black scales.

You weren’t well-versed in the history of House Targaryen, though you suspected that Jacaerys would be capable of filling you in. “Forgive me, but I am not familiar with the history of the Targaryens. I assume that this is an ancestral dragon?” You inquired, mostly to Jace.

“Balerion the Black Dread, mount of Aegon the Conqueror,” Jace replied, palm perched atop the open pages of a dusty tome, parchment old and weathered. He enjoyed reading and the histories just as much as swordplay and dragon-riding. “I suppose that’s another thing I’ll have to teach you about.”

Again, you were smitten, unable to hide your flustered smile as you cleared your throat. “Will it come after your lessons in High Valyrian?” You chimed, sitting idly as Joffrey pulled at your hair and draped his head over your shoulder. The boy was a little restless, not that you could blame him.

Jacaerys shared your sweet sentiments, smiling just as you did before he fell quiet. As much as he wanted to regale you with gallant words and compliments, he wouldn’t dare do it in front of the old maid. Instead, he rounded the table, pressing a hand against Joffrey’s head in a comforting manner. “It seems that you’re overdue for a nap, Joff.”

Joffrey whined in protest, brows furrowing together as he buried his face into your shoulder. He seemed to tighten his hold with defiance, peering up at his brother through the frame of his thick, dark hair. “No.” He protested, wrapping his arms around your neck.

“She won’t go anywhere, brother. I promise.” Jacaerys murmured, gingerly attempting to untangle his sibling from you. He was gentle, ruffling Joffrey’s hair in the process before kissing his forehead. “Next time, you can take her to see Tyraxes.”

A string of mumbled, childish ‘no’s’ escaped him, but before he could do anything rash, the handmaiden retrieved him. “Off to bed with you, little Prince.” She mumbled, taking him out of your arms as she retreated from the library with Joffrey in-tow.

The two of you watched her go, and admittedly, you were rather curious about the amount of books he had around him. “Heavy reading day?” You asked, observing in enraptured silence as Jacaerys moved to sit beside you, relocating his books to adjust to his new place.

“Something to keep me preoccupied,” He confessed, shamelessly keeping close to you. His handsome features were basked within orange firelight, reaching his dark-brown eyes. The smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose seemed more pronounced than ever. “The tension continues to grow sour as of late.”

You couldn’t help but feel concerned for Jacaerys, who had the weight of a kingdom upon his shoulders, including his mother. “With Daemon leaving, it has put a horrible strain upon your mother. She bares it well, but I know how much it worries her.”

Rhaenyra meant a great deal to you. You had come into her service just before the betrayal committed against her by the usurper, Aegon. House Celtigar had faithfully safeguarded the peninsula and the waters near Dragonstone for several decades, you knew that your father would never betray his oath.

Jace felt a twinge of irritation when you mentioned Daemon. He had taken him under his wing, treated him like a son, but he was also impulsive with a raging streak of arrogance and haughtiness. That recklessness often drained his mother half to death.

“He will return,” Jacaerys exhaled, maintaining an aura of calm despite his inner worry. He didn’t want to be afraid in front of you, but deep down, he knew that you wouldn’t judge him harshly for it. It was in your nature to be kind and without an ounce of anger. “He always does. Daemon loves my mother dearly.”

His devotion to Rhaenyra was twisted in some ways, perhaps, but he would always serve her. He pledged her Queen of the Seven Kingdoms before a host of followers, and it wasn’t something Daemon would toss away. Nevertheless, Jacaerys hoped that he would return swiftly.

With a comforting touch, you squeezed his bicep through his tunic, offering him a kind smile. “Whatever you need, I am here for you. I understand what pressure you are under, with Daemon away.” You could not fully grasp the true heaviness of leadership, but you could certainly try, for Jace’s sake.

How fortunate he was to have you — truly, a blessing sent from the Gods. There wasn’t a woman more thoughtful than you, that much he knew. He looked upon your visage with a sweet ardor, leaning inward to press a chaste kiss against your temple. He missed you in these last few days, missed your warmth.

“You can rely on me for the very same,” Jace uttered, planting another kiss on your cheek. It was oozing with affection, an affection that he solely reserved for you. “My heart belongs with you.” His voice was a feather-light caress, overflowing with adoration.

If it weren’t for your underlying fear of someone seeing you so close with the Prince of Dragonstone, you would’ve kissed him. You’d been thinking about it since your last meeting. “As does mine, Jacaerys.” You hummed, noticing his smile — it reached his eyes.

A comfortable silence lingered between the both of you, one tinged with the warmth of youthful amity. Jace’s brown-hued stare bored right into you, crinkles forming at either corner of his eyes. Every detail of you was unmatched, delicate and sublime.

“Are you aware that you are the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms?” He mused, nose wrinkling with amusement when you playfully shoved at his arm. Jacaerys returned to his books, sliding it over for it to sit between the both of you.

A wave of heat flooded through you, reaching your visage as it crawled along your skin. “Jacaerys,” You mumbled, brows knitting together. His softly-spoken compliments were enough to make you swoon. “Just the Seven Kingdoms?” You teased, head canting to one side.

Jace’s lips twitched into a faint grin before he nudged your leg with his knee, his tousled curls bouncing atop his head. “If I must proclaim your allure before the whole of the Realm, I will.” He countered, the atmosphere lighthearted and amiable.

“Be careful, or I might hold you to it.” A fondness crept into your tone, gaze softening as you caught sight of his rose-colored visage. You giggled, leaning over the table to have a look at the book he had strewn about.

“A history of my house, my ancestors,” Jacaerys explained, delighted for you to indulge in all of his old scripts and tomes. He loved to read just as much as he enjoyed swordplay. “It’s easy to become lost in this pile of pages.”

“You do love your histories,” You mused, tapping a weathered image of what Maesters depicted as Aegon the Conqueror. “This is Balerion’s rider, you said?” You inquired, placing a hand beneath your chin.

“Aegon the Conqueror was born here, in this very castle. Dragonstone has seen plenty since the Conquering. Sometimes it amazes me that we sit within the very same halls he once roamed.” Jacaerys’s countenance lit up whenever he spoke of history, something he held a great passion for.

House Celtigar shared the blood of Old Valyria, yet were considered the lowest in nobility from those houses that emerged from the Doom. The power and influence your House held paled in comparison to that of the Targaryens and Velaryons.

“My father used to shower me with tales of our House from before the Doom, to Aegon, and to now,” You replied, flipping through some of the dust-laden pages. The spine rattled in protest, parchment weathered and well-worn from constant use and age. “We are not nearly as noteworthy as dragonriders.”

Jacaerys nearly protested on your own behalf, but you seemed entirely unbothered, smiling to yourself as you roamed through the bulk of the book. Many of the illustrations and ink had faded with time, but you quite enjoyed the content.

He wondered if your father would agree to a betrothal — and his heart immediately sank into his stomach. Jacaerys hadn’t considered how his mother would feel about it, but he couldn’t let that stay his hand from making you his wife.

The thought had crossed his mind a multitude of times since he laid with you, and now, it had taken root, blossoming into more than a dream. It would take plenty of deliberation, but Jacaerys hadn’t felt so certain about anything before.

House Celtigar was of Valyrian descent, but lesser known on all fronts. Dragonriders and masters of the tide overshadowed everything else. “Your House has Valyrian blood,” Jace began, visibly intrigued. “Your father made a point of it during a council meeting.”

A burst of laughter escaped you, nose wrinkling with amusement. “He enjoys reminding everyone with every chance he gets,” You snickered, gaze flickering over the rest of the books present. Many were historical, but one belonged to a Maester — Flowers and Herbs of Dragonstone. “Do not let him tell you any stories, or you may find yourself there all night.”

Jacaerys chuckled at that, pearlescent teeth glittering in the orange light of the library. Little else seemed to matter, save for the both of you — no other soul around to witness your bond. “I will keep that in-mind. My own father liked to tell us sailor’s tales.” He mused, gaze a touch forlorn.

Laenor Velaryon — you knew that Jacaerys wasn’t his trueborn son, but it didn’t matter, not to you. He had mentioned Ser Harwin Strong once during your talks on the ramparts, and from his expression, you knew how much Harwin meant to him.

“You must miss him terribly,” You uttered, brows furrowing together. “Both of them.” The sweetness of your voice aided Jacaerys in not becoming so emotional in regards to his late fathers. They meant much to him in different ways, as equally as important as the other.

“I do,” Jacaerys smiled fondly, as if he were recalling a memory. “Ser Harwin was gentle yet ferocious, and Ser Laenor was humorous and kind. I couldn’t have asked for anyone better.” Lucerys was quite fond of Laenor — and that little memory jabbed at his heart.

You reached for his hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, yet you didn’t withdraw. Instead, you kept your hand there, with Jacaerys tracing his thumb across the delicate ridges of your knuckles. He knew that Ser Harwin loved him, just as Ser Laenor had, too.

“Your father returned to Crackclaw Point,” Jacaerys began, knowing that as Master of Coin, obtaining fees to fund a potential war were important. “How have you fared?” He asked delicately, tone wrought with a soft-spoken concern.

“I love my father, but he can be rather narrow-minded when it comes to battle. He’s never fought a day in his life,” You mused, idly playing with some of the frayed binding on a book. “My older brother, Clement, is heir to Claw Isle. I suspect he also went to see him as well.”

You didn’t speak of Clement often, and whenever you did, it sometimes left a bitter taste upon your tongue. Clement was better than you in every way imaginable — but then again, had you been born a man, you might’ve been, too. You tried not to dwell on it.

“You didn’t answer my question.” Jace replied, noticing the flicker of melancholy that crossed your features. He cared more for your wellbeing than he did most, and to see you saddened, it hurt him, too.

A soft exhale escaped you before you shrugged, adjusting the velveteen sleeves of your gown. “I’m well enough,” You admitted, mustering up a smile. “I do miss home, but Dragonstone has grown on me. Your mother is a good woman, and you are the very best.”

Jacaerys felt the weight of your words, the genuineness behind them, the feeling of true happiness. If he were to ever ascend the Iron Throne, he hoped that you would be by his side. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss atop your knuckles before holding it close. “I am undeserving of your praise.”

“Don’t,” The last thing you wanted was for Jace to feel unworthy, especially during a time like this. He was perfect to you — better than any man in the realm. “You will make a wonderful King, when the time comes. I could not imagine someone better suited for the position. Your mother will make sure of it.”

“I should hope to live up to your expectations,” He chuckled, and before you could scorn him for being harsh upon himself, he stopped you. “I hope to exceed them, with the help of a strong council and a wise Hand.” Jacaerys finished — and a good Queen.

“I know that you will.” You reassured him, dipping forward to press a kiss against his cheek. It was chaste and kept brief for the sake of propriety, but deep down, the both of you were waiting for a moment of opportunity to arrive. If you were patient, it would be soon.

Again, he flourished beneath your praise, head hanging slightly, dark curls framing his visage. He hadn’t a clue of what he did to deserve you, but he thanked the Gods for it. Jace exhaled, cradling your hand within both of his. “Your hand is cold.” He remarked, and the both of you shared a tender smile.

Jace knew that any amount of time spent with you was beyond worthwhile. Despite his desire to be involved in the action, he was beginning to develop a fear of losing you amidst the chaos. He refused to let your flowering relationship break apart.

With a smitten expression, you dipped your head, feeling his hands work to warm your own. “Thankfully, there is someone here to keep me warm.” Your remark was amiable, yet hushed. Part of you still worried that someone would come along and intrude.

“I’ll hold that position with honor, my Lady.” Jace mused, mirth and merriment reaching his eyes. For many days, they had been so forlorn and dour, especially after Lucerys’s passing. Now, there was a renewed spark, a vigor that touched them once again.

You believed him wholeheartedly, feeling warmth crawl across your skin when he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss against your knuckles. Jacaerys gingerly kissed each of your fingertips, continuing to bring heat to your icy flesh.

The look you gave him was nothing short of endearment — the sort of stare reserved only for close lovers. Intimacy was one thing, but you adored Jace’s heart more than anything else. Beneath the stress of war and strife, he was a good man, born to rule the Seven Kingdoms with a just and compassionate hand.

“After supper, I want to show you Aegon’s Garden and the bay.” He broke the fleeting moment of silence, digits dancing along the silky plane of your palm. “Perhaps on dragonback.” Jacaerys attempted to smother the bemused look on his face when your eyes widened.

“On dragonback?” You had expressed your fear of flying many times before, but on a dragon? What if you fell, or what if Jacaerys fell? Perhaps your fears were irrational, but you still remained hesitant. “What if something were to happen? What if I plummeted from the sky?”

A brief huff of laughter escaped Jace, who canted his head to one side. “Do you truly think I’d let that happen? We would be secure, and there are places to hold onto. I promise.” He reassured you, but it did very little to quell the onslaught of worry you were experiencing. “I wouldn’t let you fall — I swear it.”

Apprehension muddled your visage, browns drawn together in a look of concern. “I trust you, Jacaerys, but —“ He stopped you with a kiss. The suddenness of it left you surprised yet aching for more, and you failed to take stock of your surroundings. It was just the two of you.

The hand that had been perched within his lap for so long now found purchase against your face, cupping your jaw with the utmost care. As much as he wanted to let it linger, echoing footsteps caused him to pull away. Your smitten expression gave him a sense of relief.

“Then trust me.” Jace mused, a smile toying at either corner of his mouth. He planted another kiss atop your knuckles before releasing your hand. Thankfully, the timing was opportune, considering that a guard had wandered into the warm sanctuary of the library.

“My Prince, my Lady,” He greeted, standing tall with his hand on the pommel of his shortsword. “The council is reconvening before supper.” You recognized Ser Lyonel Bentley as one of the younger members of the Queensguard.

Jacaerys thanked Ser Bentley before turning to you, voice lowering enough so that only you could hear. “Find me tonight at the ramparts.” He murmured, subtly brushing his thumb over your knuckles before he stood, neatly rearranging his many scattered books.

You smiled, giving Jace a nod before standing yourself, rising to offer your farewell with a curtsy. “Good evening, my Prince.” Dropping at the knees, you noticed Jacaerys’s fleeting glance before he departed from the library.

As you watched him depart with the company of Ser Bentley, your heart swelled tenfold — Aegon’s Garden awaited you tonight.

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐃𝐫𝐚𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐢𝐭 𝐚 𝐭𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐬𝐞𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐫𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐚 𝐝𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐞𝐭. The sun began to descend towards the ocean, casting the water in a blanket of fading embers. The black stone of the castle seemed to catch fire with the setting sun, and it was a beautiful sight.

Supper was eerily silent that evening — no one seemed hungry, and conversation dwindled to a mere hum. The halls of Dragonstone began to calm for the evening, and there was no sign of Daemon’s return. Your father had sent a raven from Claw Isle, reporting an influx of coin, ships, and supplies.

Within your chambers, you wrote a letter to home — to Clement, and to your father. He cited that he would return in two days' time, with the assistance of Claw Isle’s small vassal of ships. It comforted you to know that your father would rejoin the fray once more.

You waited for the hum of the castle to come to a lull before sneaking from your bedchambers, grabbing your cloak from the back of an armchair. Dragonstone was wrought with hidden passages and winding corridors that led to the Dragon’s Tail, or the wall.

Sneaking about once everyone had retired for the evening felt daring and exhilarating, but you feared what would happen if you were caught. You hadn’t a clue of what excuse to muster up should you be found, but you elected not to think of such things.

Torchlight guided your path from your chambers to a tunnel that led onto the ramparts. Twilight was still dancing across the skies, with the absence of dusk. As you entered the outside of Dragonstone, unoccupied by the presence of guards, you began your search for Jacaerys.

There wasn’t a shadow of a dragon afoot, or a man — just the saltwater breeze and crashing of the tides upon the bay and upon rock. You wrung your hands together, looking around for Jace. You approached the bannister, gazing off into the sea as you had many times before.

You were filled with the same wistful feeling — a longing for home, yet tethered to Dragonstone, tethered to Jacaerys. A soft beating of wings reverberated within the distance, accompanied by the hushed chirp of Vermax, who made a downward descent towards the ramparts you stood upon.

Jacaerys sat atop the olive-scaled dragon, filled with the excitement of seeing you there, smiling and radiant. As Vermax landed with an unceremonious thud, he dismounted, sliding down the side of the dragon’s shoulder and onto the stone below.

He hastily approached you with a giddy gait, delighted to see your own springing step as he collected you into his arms. Jacaerys spun you around, holding you close as he pressed a myriad of kisses against the top of your head. It was a blissful moment, full of anticipation and a sweetness that simply couldn’t be matched.

“I was worried that Ser Lorent might’ve caught you,” Jace mused, placing you onto solid ground as he kept his hands atop your waist, thumbs stroking slow circles into your sides. His smile was perfect, freckles catching in the fading sunlight. “I didn’t see you at supper.”

Admittedly, you weren’t very hungry and had opted to take supper in your chambers. The raven from your father had left you melancholy and alone with your thoughts, long enough for you to realize that hope lingered still. He would return, safe and sound to Dragonstone.

“I wasn’t very hungry,” You confessed, touched by his worry. Jace held you close, motioning towards the heavier knapsack anchored to Vermax’s saddle. It was almost as if Jacaerys intended on staying the night somewhere in the wilderness, but you knew that wasn’t the case. “Are you sure that this is a good idea?”

Jacaerys chuckled, head canting to one side. “You still don’t trust me, do you?” He teased, knowing fully well that it would make you unbelievably flustered. Instead, he reached for one of your hands, lacing it with his own. “I would never put you in harm’s way, I promise you that.” Jace reassured you, pressing a kiss against your brow.

A soft sigh escaped you, then. “I do trust you, Jacaerys — wholeheartedly. I suppose it is an irrational fear, falling from the back of a dragon.” You mused, and he detected the slightest hint of playful sarcasm within your tone. “In all seriousness, I know that you will keep me safe.”

“As long as I am with you, no harm will come to you. Nothing will hurt you,” Jacaerys murmured, pressing a kiss upon your knuckles. “Vermax possesses steady wings, and the journey will be short.” He spoke gently, guiding you toward Vermax’s lowered wing.

Without hesitation, your hand reached for the front of Jacaerys’s velveteen tunic, stitched and patterned to resemble faux dragonscales. You coaxed him in for a kiss, one that immediately flickered to life with a flurry of sweet passion and affection, now unrestrained.

He cupped your face, thumb tracing along the soft curve of your cheekbone, ensuring that he reciprocated with as much adoration as he could muster. Jacaerys had been waiting — waiting so patiently to share this moment with you since the previous tryst.

A rather noisy growl from Vermax pulled the both of you from the bliss of the moment, prompting Jace to scowl at his draconic companion. You were giggling, unable to keep from finding some humor in it. “Is Vermax the envious sort?” You mused.

“I suppose he is,” Jacaerys sighed, stepping up onto Vermax’s spiked shoulder and wing, using the leverage to pull himself up halfway. He looked at you expectantly, extending his hand towards you, which you took without an ounce of reluctance. “Move towards me.”

Rocking towards Vermax, Jacaerys finally hauled you up, guiding you onto the bulk of the leather saddle, situated in front of him. The handles were large and tall enough to give him leverage, even if you were sitting in between.

You could feel the warmth of dragonscales beneath you, the accelerating breaths of Vermax himself, every movement causing you to lurch forward. It was strange to feel a real, living dragon underneath you, but you maintained your composure for Jace’s sake.

“Sōvegon, Vermax!” Jacaerys called, patting just above Vermax’s shoulder before the dragon took flight, leaping from the ramparts and into the cool, dusk air of Dragonstone Isle. Saltwater kisses peppered your cheeks, the mist of the Narrow Sea dancing through the night.

The ground became smaller, no longer close as you took flight, prompting you to hunch forward in order to grab ahold of the saddle. Your heart pounded within your breast, like the beating of a drum. Nervousness swelled within you like the rising of the tide, but Jacaerys kept close, chest snug against your back.

A burst of hysterical laughter tore past your lips, inevitably turning into something genuine. “This is incredible!” You gasped, and the world suddenly seemed so vast from the back of a dragon. Jacaerys laughed with you, guiding Vermax past the ramparts and toward the forested part of Dragonstone.

Aegon’s Garden was shrouded in ancient thickets, a grove that swallowed the shrine whole. “Gīda, Vermax!” Jacaerys ensured that his dragon leveled out, grabbing at the reins as he steered Vermax toward the edge of the island, circling around for you to see. “Put your hands here.” His voice softened for only you to hear as he motioned toward the saddle grips.

With shaky hands, you lifted them to the grips, placing them just underneath Jace’s, your grip ironclad. Jacaerys placed his palms atop yours, reins close enough for him to maintain control over Vermax. “Is this what it’s like to control a dragon?” You questioned, letting out a squeal when Vermax dove to the left.

“Exhilarating, isn’t it? I haven’t let you fall.” Jacaerys mused, pressing a brief kiss against your temple. He smiled when you gave him a playful, pointed look, your tresses billowing behind you with the wind. The sun continued to descend, and the sight was breathtaking.

It was something you would only see once in your lifetime — a sunset in the Narrow Sea upon the back of a dragon, watching as bright orange began to bleed into shades of violet, like dusk reaching up to steal the day away. The first inkling of stars twinkled above, faint yet present.

Anxiousness dissipated into joy and wonder at the world around you, no longer clouded by worry and fear. Jacaerys ensured that you were protected, hovering behind you as any dutiful paramour would. After you circled Dragonstone, he eased Vermax toward Aegon’s Garden, spotting the stone statue in its center.

Jacaerys could see the future, then and there — carrying you on dragonback to King’s Landing, to Driftmark and to the Reach and the Stormlands, seeing the world at your side. There wasn’t any other place for him, and he was satisfied with that.

As Vermax made his descent, the beating of his wings stirring the surrounding brush and flora, you held on tightly, watching as the dragon lowered his body towards the thickets. Towering pine trees, thorny hedges, and a meadow of wildflowers surrounded the massive draconic statue in the very center, wreathed in tendrils of prickly ivy and weathered vines.

It was quiet, the grove hushed with the cover of night. A singular column of torches lined the spiraling statue in the middle, said to be eternal flames lit in Aegon I’s honor, never to die out. Bushes of wild roses bloomed everywhere, in varying shades of crimson and pink, scattered around the stone.

With a soft grunt, Jacaerys moved to dismount, retrieving his thick cloak and a small roll from the back of Vermax’s saddle. He grabbed the thick hide strap that secured the saddle, using its leverage to hop onto solid ground.

He extended his arms out to you, nodding reassuringly for you to jump as he did. “I will catch you.” Jacaerys soothed, ensuring that you were secure within his hold as he assisted you in dismounting.

Through the haze of scaling pine trees and the serenity encapsulating the gardens, you could see the castle of Dragonstone looming in the distance, an intricate alcazar. House Targaryen had its roots everywhere, presence grounded within the very flora and rock you stood upon.

“This is beautiful,” You whispered, tone transcendent with awe as you admired the natural splendor of your newfound environment. It was an ancient place, archaic and from a time long before you. “Can you believe that a place like this still exists?”

Jacaerys had come to Aegon’s Garden on a handful of occasions — twice as a boy, in the company of his brothers and nursemaid. Only recently he’d come here, a place to be alone and contemplate without having a thousand eyes pick him apart.

The smell of damp woodlands and faint wildflowers drifted through the air, accompanied by moss and stone. Pine permeated the air, the scent heavy and verdant. Vermax lowered himself into the thicket, warm breath breaking through a line of ferns and thorns.

“This garden was named for Aegon the Conqueror,” Jacaerys hummed, taking your hand within his as he led you away from Vermax and closer to the statue within the center. It resembled a roaring dragon’s head, black scales winding down a spire, wings outstretched. “It is said that his ashes were scattered here following his passing.”

A trickling noise emerged from the statue, with tendrils of water oozing from the maw of the dragon, pouring into a stone basin below. The sun had nearly faded entirely, giving way to a calm nightfall, covered by large spots of clouds. Jacaerys led you closer to the obelisk, his gait slow and exploratory.

Inching forward, you placed your palm against the carved scales of the statue, feeling damp stone and moss beneath your fingertips. This was a place that was hundreds of years old, untouched by war, untouched by the harsh hand of time. “Is this supposed to be Balerion?”You asked, motioning to the statue.

“From what the records of Dragonstone say, it is Balerion.” Jacaerys replied, following in your footsteps as he stood by your side. He had left his scabbard and sword back on Vermax — he didn’t feel the desire to have it here. “My mother showed me this place when I was young.”

Jace’s voice grew wistful at the mention of his youth — sometimes, it didn’t feel like much of a childhood at all. The weight of being labeled a bastard for all his life left him crawling to feel a sense of worth, to prove himself whenever he could. No one could be so vicious here in Dragonstone — he’d left King’s Landing behind.

Leaning into him, you kept your chin tucked against his arm, gazing into the tarnished ruby eyes socketed into the statue. It was a piece of history, of a dynasty that Jacaerys was apart of. You wondered what your place was, where you would fit in, in the grand scheme of things.

“Someday, I will show you Claw Isle,” You spoke softly, harkening back to your younger days, just as he did. “Celtigar Keep is full of treasures collected throughout generations. There is apparently a carcass of a magical crab somewhere in the crypts.” You mused, nose wrinkling with amusement.

A soft laugh escaped Jacaerys, whose vibrant brown hues turned themselves to you, oozing with a warm affection. “A magical crab? Is that your equivalent to Targaryen dragons?” He teased, squeezing your hand when you playfully rolled your eyes.

“I would much rather have a dragon,” A steady exhale escaped you as you held his hand, feeling his head rest atop your own, thick curls brushing against your temples. “Crabs are boring unless they’re freshly-caught and used in a bisque.” You replied, your smile prevalent upon your features.

Jace snickered, finding your beratement of crabs to be incredibly amusing. A steaming bowl of crab bisque sounded delightful — it was something commonly served around most seaside castles. He fell quiet, elated to be in your presence as he pressed a kiss against the top of your head.

You clicked your tongue, still holding onto Jace’s hand. His silence gave you pause as you glanced up at him, a twinkle of mirth dancing within your eyes. “Did my talk of crab turn you away completely?” You hummed, prompting Jace to reach for your chin, digits tenderly stroking along your jaw.

“Absolutely not,” Jacaerys replied, leaning in until your foreheads touched. “I fear that you may be anchored to me for the foreseeable future.” He murmured, voice becoming a touch husky and rich. You savored his embrace, pressing a brief kiss against his chin, causing him to smile.

Whatever affection you felt for Jacaerys seemed to swell in that moment, causing your heart to flutter with excitement. Butterflies pooled within the pit of your stomach, dancing around with glee. “I’m quite content with that.” You whispered, and he kissed you, even if it was kept brief.

The scenery was something from a fairytale, cranberry meadows and wildflower patches illuminated by both moonlight and the glower of fire. Balerion’s stony, ruby eyes gazed down upon the both of you, the blood of Old Valyria standing before him.

“I would never leave this garden, if I could,” You sighed, interlacing your fingers with Jace’s own. He kept your hand close to him, thumb brushing along the ridges of your knuckles. “This means a great deal to me. Thank you for bringing me here, Jacaerys.”

Jace smiled, guiding you toward the thicket until you reached the stone surrounding Aegon’s monument in the center of the garden. “Perhaps we could stay here,” He replied, coming to a halt in front of the statue. He turned toward you, reaching for your waist as he pulled you closer. “Stay a thousand years.”

If only duty would make it so — if only.

You chuckled, keeping your hands interlocked as your palm lifted to perch atop his chest, absentmindedly tracing over the silvery stitching of his doublet. “What would we do? Eat berries and use Vermax as shelter?” A giggle escaped you as Jacaerys spun you in a slow circle, forehead dipping to press against yours.

“It sounds like a pleasant life.” His utterance had dropped into a sweet caress, genuine as could be. Jacaerys eased you into a sluggish dance, one reserved for noble lords and ladies, spun about across a great hall. He pressed a kiss atop the crown of your head.

Jacaerys wanted that with you, a life free of vitriolic politics and bloodshed, free of the cruelty of the crown, the viciousness of power. As he gently swayed with you within his arms, he had never felt so strongly about someone before. You were intertwined with him.

The folly of youth — fantasy and whimsy, believing that nothing bad would ever happen. You wished that it were true, and that you and Jacaerys could live happily together somewhere else, but the possibility was nothing more than a mere dream, one that dissipated as quickly as it had come.

Even if such a life with Jacaerys sounded picturesque, it wasn’t what duty commanded of you — what honor demanded. You knew that the relationship between you and Jace would be fraught with danger and trials ahead, but you were prepared to brave the storm with him.

As Jacaerys gently twirled you around once more, the both of you began to laugh, lips clamoring to find one another. It was saccharine, warm like the first inkling of springtime — there was never a more gallant man that existed than Jacaerys Velaryon.

He cupped your face within his palms, cradling you as if you were a delicate object, cherished and precious. Your hands wandered toward his chest, sinking into the velveteen material that clung to him. The dancing light of Aegon’s eternal torch basked the both of you in its still-burning embers.

It was refreshing to feel so liberated here, not having to hide your affections, look over your shoulder with each kiss. The fire that burned within you, your adoration for him — it intensified, continued to grow tenfold whenever you were in his embrace.

It was a tender dance, your lips — you couldn’t have pictured kissing anyone else after Jacaerys had kissed you. The care and caution he often exuded was more than enough to make you elated, body flush against his own as the entanglement continued for a few moments longer.

When you withdrew, you felt hot to the touch, completely and utterly taken by the Prince of Dragonstone. You felt his thumbs caress your cheekbones, stroking downward towards the curve of your jaw. The silence was comforting, something that you didn’t break just yet, careening into Jace’s touch.

Silvery rays of moonlight soon replaced that of the waning sunset, with a blanket of stars to decorate the skies. Of course, your surroundings were still clear enough, and he had been diligent enough to bring a torch with him, stashed away within the roll slung across his back.

“Shall we?” Jacaerys asked, offering you his hand to lead you through the winding gardens. The path that had been placed before was overgrown and trodden into mere dirt, but it was better than wading through tall grass. “There is a path that leads to the bay.”

The gentle, heavy sighs from Vermax signaled that he had fallen asleep somewhere amongst the thicket, tail curled around his larger frame. He was easy to spot, a massive scaled form slumbering within the brush.

“What of Vermax?” You asked, motioning towards the sleeping beast. It was amusing to see a dragon asleep — whenever you’d seen one, they were always so animated, soaring above Dragonstone or drifting above the Narrow Sea.

Jace smiled, nose wrinkling with amusement. “He will find me, if he becomes lost. Dragons are tethered to their riders,” He explained, feeling your hand slip within his as he slowly guided you down the path. Bushes of roses lined either side, thick from many decades of growing wild. “It is a companionship, a bond.”

“You will have to take me riding again,” You mused, nose wrinkling in amusement. “I must admit, it wasn’t nearly as terrifying as I thought it would be. You can see much more of the world from the back of a dragon.”

With a teasing grin, Jacaerys dipped down to knock his shoulder against yours. “Is that so?” He jested, your sweet scent filling his nostrils. Your concoction of floral perfumes and honeyed scent was warming, to say the least. “Name the day, and I shall take you with me again.” He promised.

Many of the flowers that blossomed within Aegon’s Garden were native to the island, but something caught Jacaerys’s eye — blooms as pale as snow, sticking out amongst the thorny roses. He released your hand to seek it out, traipsing through the bush.

“Where are you going?” You laughed, head canting to one side as you followed him to the very edge of the path. Jacaerys waded through countless roses to find that clutch of Lady’s Lace. Thorns stuck to his doublet and the tail end of his cloak, not that he minded.

“You’ll see,” He called back, kneeling before the patch of pale, silvery blossoms as he collected them all, smiling to himself as he made his treacherous trek back to the path. When Jacaerys returned, he kept them behind his back, as if you were oblivious to his antics. “It doesn’t grow on Dragonstone.”

Presenting you with the bundle of flowers, you nearly buckled, features blazing with warmth. You were incredibly flustered, charmed to your core as he placed them into your hand. “This is Lady’s Lace,” You murmured, trailing your fingertips across the soft petals. “You are endlessly charming.”

Jacaerys chuckled, bristling at such a compliment as the two of you continued your walk toward the pale beaches of Dragonstone. “Endlessly charming,” He parroted, though instead of opting for humor, he became soft in your presence. “It is reserved only for you.” You believed him wholeheartedly when the words left his lips.

You loved him.

The thought immediately slammed into the recesses of your mind like a heavy stone being thrown, and it nearly shattered your composure. Jacaerys was everything that a man should be — he was everything you’d ever wanted, before you knew what wanting truly was. Your breath hitched within your throat, then and there.

His handsome, gentle features and gallant disposition, the kindness that touched his eyes — he was nothing short of perfection. You envied the woman that would become his Queen, become his wife. They would have only the best — Jacaerys deserved nothing less.

“Everything you do drives me to madness,” You confessed, and before Jace could express his confusion, you pressed a hand against his lips. “You are good — truly good, Jacaerys. I daresay, you are perfect. You cannot begin to understand how incredible you truly are, and your mother would be proud.”

He hesitated, gazing down at you through the haze of moonlight, capturing your doe-eyed stare. Whatever you felt, he did too — only stronger. Jace felt his heart beat again, mirroring the same sentiments he experienced the night he first laid with you.

Jacaerys nearly asked it of you, asked you to be his wife, his future Queen. If it weren’t for the onslaught of boyish nerves that suddenly gripped him, he would’ve asked you — he wanted you to marry him. The advantages of allying two houses of Valyrian descent were vast, but Jacaerys knew to seek the approval of your father upon his return from Claw Isle.

No matter the swiftness of the decision or the reproach it would potentially receive, any repercussions, he didn’t care. How could he, when he had you there to tell him how much he meant to you, how good he was?

He was occasionally quick to anger, desperate to be of some use in his Mother’s fight to regain her crown, but you made him feel more than that. Those flaws dissipated, and he happily drowned within your perfect light, the beacon of beauty that you were.

“Whatever I am, you are so much more.” Jacaerys uttered, politely removing your hand from his lips, but not before he could kiss each of your fingertips. “There is no one in this world quite as perfect as you.” He smiled, and it melted your heart completely.

Your lips parted, a soft exhale escaping you, yet no words emerged, turning to ash upon your tongue. “Jacaerys.” You exhaled, and before you could convey what you felt into words, Jacaerys stepped forward, capturing your mouth in a passionate kiss.

It was fiery, far more charged than any entanglement you had before — and it was incredible. Passion, desire, devotion, love — it all began to roll into one sentimental conglomerate that flared between the both of you. Your hand clenched around the stems of Lady’s Lace, the other draping over his shoulder.

Jacaerys felt a tightening within his throat, canting his head to one side, deepening the kiss with a trembling exhale. Anticipation and exhilaration flooded through him, stirred to arousal when your fingers curled into the shoulder of his tunic.

He was the one to pull away first, ardor written all over his handsome features. “Come with me.” Jace whispered, taking a hold of your hand as he led you down the path from Aegon’s Garden. The land turned from towering pines and bogs of cranberries to an endless expanse of pale sands and gentle waves that lapped at the shore.

With a spring in your step, you trailed after Jacaerys, feet sinking into sand instead of dirt. The sight of Dragonstone in the distance was breathtaking — an obsidian citadel, your home. On your end the stretch, rocky formations and jagged cliff sides arching from the island, dark rock imbued with flecks of crystal.

Unveiling the torch from his light knapsack, Jacaerys struck it with flint and steel, enough of a spark to set it ablaze. Along the strand, moonlight touched the Narrow Sea, basking it in a wave of silvery light. The gentle ambiance of saltwater kissing sand made you feel at-ease.

In his time spent exploring Dragonstone, much of it done in his youth, he discovered many natural alcoves and caves, but none so mesmerizing as the one beneath the watchtower. The tower itself sat atop a large rise of rock, but it was rarely utilized, given the lack of military presence.

The soft sand began to run into walls of rock, surrounded by brush upon an incline and scattered pine trees. You stopped close by, gazing out into the ocean, the sight beautiful from where you stood.

Jacaerys joined you, placing the torch and bedroll along the ground as he joined you, finding the view to be nothing short of perfection. Only the ambiance of crashing waves resonated around you, and you reached for his hand, offering him a gentle smile.

You noticed the cozy resting place constructed by Jacaerys, something that caught your attention. Part of you hoped that it meant what you thought, but you never wanted to assume. As you turned to face Jacaerys, he seemed prepared, visibly steeling himself.

“Are you intending on sleeping here?” You murmured, voice tinged with a sweetness to it. His features turned from pallid to rosy, and he seemed to clear his throat and straighten his posture. “Unless you’ve no intention of sleeping.”

It caught him off-guard, features flushing with scarlet. “I would never pretend to assume,” Jacaerys shook his head, thumbs caressing your knuckles. Admittedly, he brought it all with the intention of simply being in your presence along the coastline, but your innocuous comment had planted ideas into his head. “I only thought it would keep you comfortable.”

A smile spread across your features, one that held nothing but affection and tenderness. “We can,” You had thought about it quite often since he last shared your bed. Here, in the gloom of the rock and moonlight, you didn’t need to be so cautious. “Only if it’s something you wanted too.”

Jacaerys blushed, cursing himself for allowing his expression to give him away so easily. He lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the soft skin there before he cleared his throat. “I’ve thought about you at every waking moment,” He whispered. “I am not ashamed to admit that I want you terribly.”

It transcended want — Jacaerys wanted you conventionally, as a man desired a woman, but it went beyond that. He wanted everything — your heart, your captivating mind, every fiber of your being.

That was love — and it was a dangerous thing, perilous within times of such uncertainty, but Jacaerys was a man of action, and he no longer wanted to wait in the gallows for you. He wanted to love you while there was still time left, while some peace still clung on by a thread.

Before you could speak, he stepped closer, swallowing the growing lump within his throat. He wasn’t a boy — he was every bit a man, and he would make his intentions known like one. “I feel more than just want,” Jace uttered, keeping your hands tethered together. “That is not adequate enough to describe what I feel for you.”

You shivered, feeling goosebumps rake across your spine in the wake of his confession. Knowing that Jacaerys wanted you just as much as you did him was reassuring. “How do you feel?” You whispered, voice barely above a whisper, as if yearning to know the inner machinations of his mind, know exactly how he felt.

“I love you,” Jacaerys felt a bit of a weight lift from his shoulders. He wanted to ask you to marry him — but it felt sudden. This confession needed to linger before he asked something so monumental of you. “I love you.” He said it again, to ensure its meaningfulness.

Words turned to ash within your mouth, and you could think of nothing else to say — only that you loved him, too. “I love you, too.” Those of an older age would label it puppy love, a fool’s errand — but not you, and not Jacaerys. There was no sweeter love than that born of friendship and devotion.

“Kiss me, Jace.”

That was all it took, all it needed to take — he was yours, unconditionally so, and he would be until his last days.

Without hesitation, Jacaerys captured your lips in a searing kiss, his mouth emblazoned upon yours. The bouquet of Lady’s Lace you held had been placed to the wayside, amongst Jace’s belongings to ensure that you would have it upon your return to Dragonstone.

Everything had seemed so fleeting and cautious before, as if the two of you were caught within a slow dance, hesitant to fully act upon desire. Lust was something different entirely, different from the love you felt for him, the carnal passion. Your arms tossed themselves around his neck, threading against the nape of his neck.

His arm hitched around your hips, bringing you flush against his chest as his mouth tangled with yours. It was a delicate duel of lips and fervor, his hand grasping at the fabric of your gown. He wondered what you would look like, bare and bathed by the gloom of moonlight.

There, on the pallid shores of Dragonstone, your love blossomed yet again. It was similar to the emotions felt the first time, the excitement and anticipation, the flourish of nerves that followed suit, only with the added familiarity. Jacaerys knew what he wanted — he wanted you.

“Are you certain?” Jace asked in between kisses, breathless and wanton as he swallowed the lump within his throat. Despite you having expressed your desire moments prior, establishing clear consent was appreciative on both ends.

“Yes,” You exhaled, eyes glittering through the dusk. “More than anything.” You sealed your statement with a kiss, one that Jacaerys happily reciprocated. He coaxed you closer, leading you toward the thick, furred bedroll atop the sand.

Jacaerys was the first to descend, unclasping the draconic sigil that kept his cloak upon his shoulders, letting it drape across the bedroll. His breath hitched slightly when you crawled into his lap, bringing your hands to his chest, digits sinking into the velvet of his embroidered doublet.

He kissed you tenderly, yet passionately — not an ounce of roughness in his movements, nor a desire to manhandle you. Jacaerys treated you as if you were sacred, a goddess to be worshiped, and he wanted to ensure that he was worthy of you.

It was a beautiful sight, surrounded by the shadowed gloom of pine trees, massive cliffs, and the calm lapping of the ocean’s tides as they swayed into the shore. The flickering of torchlight provided some illumination, but the moon was plentiful.

You were beautiful, prettier when you sat within his lap, gowns pooling around you. Jacaerys brought his hands to the small of your back, finding the ties of your bodice as he loosened them, watching the fabric sag upon your physique. His fingers wandered, curling into the front of your dress.

“May I?” He always asked — you never expected it of him, but the effort he put forth was always appreciated. You nodded, shrugging your arms enough to free yourself from the upper half of your gowns, breasts exposed to the cool, dusk air.

Jacaerys was constantly beguiled by your beauty — he would never tire of it, nor did he want to. He was less shy this time, but reserved about how he touched you, hand skirting along your naked back. The other cupped beneath your jaw, lips colliding with yours once more.

Your hands found purchase atop his broad shoulders, seeking to free him from his doublet. Admittedly, he looked so painfully handsome in it, adorned in the ancient colors of House Targaryen, but you wanted to see him, freckled skin and taut muscle.

Each kiss was like wildfire, spreading with a heat and intensity that threatened to consume you both. Goosebumps cascaded along the length of your spine, body shivering when he gripped you tightly, mouth moving in a blissful tandem with yours.

His lips began to roam, reaching for the soft slope of your jaw, peppering you in delicate kisses as he found your neck. Jace savored your taste, like honey and warmth upon his tongue, skin soft and silky. He wondered how you were real — perfection made living and breathing before him, his heart belonging to you.

“Jacaerys,” You sighed with passion, hands carding through his soft, dark curls. They were perfect to trace your fingertips through, giving you something to grip as his mouth traveled lower, showering you in kisses across your collarbone. “Please, I need you.” A groan escaped you as he dipped close to your breasts.

Arousal stabbed at his gut like a hot knife, a good sort of torture as his cock twitched within his breeches. It wasn’t foreign to him — yearning for you was no longer foreign. His hand fell away from your jaw, gathering at the hem of your gowns as he pushed his palm beneath the fabric, fingers dancing along your leg.

Again, you insistently pushed at his tunic, unbuttoning the silvery clasps to the left, situated beneath a layer of embroidery and velvet. He shuddered at your enthusiasm, his own delight present when your soft hands embraced his chest, gliding over bare muscle.

You nudged his doublet into the bedroll, able to feel all of him now. He was so handsome, layered in a smattering of freckles, still growing into himself, not that you minded. Jacaerys was broad-shouldered and lean, muscle defined and glistening with silver from the moonlight.

His hand continued its ascent, gripping your thigh to signal where he wanted to go, and all you could do was encourage him. “Please.” You breathed, parting from his kiss for just a moment. Jace watched you closely, kissing you wherever he could as his fingers dipped into the warm apex between your legs.

Jacaerys deftly pressed his digits against your cunt, tracing the line of your slit with a feather-light embrace. You gasped, faces pressed closely together, breath hot, bodies aching for more. He found himself enticed by your pleasure, brown hues transfixed on the way your body bent to him.

He sometimes wondered how such a thing was even possible, but the logistics mattered little — he was simply delighted to please you. Jacaerys mimicked his movements from the previous tryst, thumb grazing against your clit as the other two stroked around the rest of your cunt.

Gods, he loved you — it nearly overwhelmed him, then and there, but he held his ground through the onslaught of sentiment he felt. Jacaerys pressed another kiss against your mouth, lingering and intense, digits sinking themselves into your cunt.

Your lips clamored for his, breathy and hot as you moaned into his mouth, hips rolling into his hand. His skin felt soft beneath your fingertips, gripping tightly into his shoulder blades as you allowed pleasure to overtake you. He gave you everything you needed, thumb continuing to circle your clit.

There was no greater sight, Jacaerys thought, seeing you half naked on the beach, cast in silver from the moon. Each glimpse rendered him breathless, heart hammering within his chest, afraid that it might simply rip open.

Breathy, warm pants escaped the both of you, lips occasionally reaching for one another, a moment of bliss and pleasure before Jace gently moved away, showing you affection elsewhere. He bent his head as one would in reverence, finding your breast as he pressed strings of kisses all around your pliant peak.

A sweet moan arose from your lips, a cry of delight as your Prince pleasured you. Part of you felt a pang of guilt for not reciprocating, but he was often insistent on letting it all revolve around you, something you would have to rectify in the future. His arm locked around your back, the other still happily wedged between your thighs.

Your fingers found his hair again, holding at the base of his skull as thick, dark curls threaded themselves through your grasp. Jacaerys groaned at the pleasurable sensation, lips drifting from one of your breasts to the other, taking your nipple into his mouth. He kissed and nibbled around the bud, causing you to shiver.

“Will you let me touch you, too?” You asked, in between throaty pants and needy whimpers. You didn’t want him to stop, and simply wanted him to share in your ecstasy. Jacaerys nodded, feeling your hands release his tresses to tug at the leather ties of his breeches, loosening them up enough to free his cock.

His hips stuttered slightly into your hand, a low groan tearing past his lips as he resumed his focus, allowing two of his fingers to tease your entrance. The warm, soft sensation of your palm closing around his hardened length made him grit his teeth, attempting to maintain his composure.

Just as Jacaerys handled you with adoration, you reciprocated such a notion, stroking from base to tip, finding it somewhat difficult to focus on yourself and him. Nonetheless, the shared bliss was exhilarating to behold, between your pleasured countenance and Jace’s unrestrained grunts and sighs.

The threat of war mattered little, as if it simply ceased to exist when he was in your presence. Duty died then and there, love took its place, like a blossom amongst the rubble — whatever fear he thought he had abandoned had been restored anew.

What was duty compared to that of your touch? What was honor? His honor had been hanging by a thread since your last tryst, and he feared he had lost it altogether by indulging in this, but he was wrong. It was loving you, devoting himself to you, proving to all that he was the heir, the succession.

He kissed you hard, as if he were pouring every ounce of his being into you, as if it would make you both one. Jacaerys savored the feeling of your lips, soft and plump as they returned that passion tenfold. Your ravenous state was born of ardor, and nothing more.

Between the rhythmic rocking of his hand into your cunt, thumb continuing to caress your clit, and the shy strokes of your hand against his cock, the both of you were well on your way to a shared release. He wanted to be inside of you, taste you if he could, but perhaps that would be saved for another day.

You mewled a string of delicate praises, wanting Jace to hear just how perfect he felt. A gentle breeze brought with it the mist of saltwater, peppering itself across your back, a soothing feeling amidst the feverish onslaught of warmth brewing between you and Jacaerys.

“I want you.” He groaned through half-gritted teeth, jaw tensing as his hips jutted forward into your palm. You nodded several times over, adjusting your skirts as you ensured that they wouldn’t be as much of an obstruction. Jace sluggishly removed his fingers from your weeping core, feeling you hover closer.

Aligning his hardened cock with your cunt, you shakily lowered yourself onto him, gasping at the sudden intrusion and stretch. Jacaerys grunted, forehead pushing into yours as one arm encircled you, fingers kneading into the plush flesh of your hips.

The newfound position was unfamiliar to the both of you, but you were so lost within the ecstasy that neither of you voiced any displeasure. It was quite the opposite, in fact. His length throbbed inside of you, aching with a burning want that simply refused to be extinguished.

You were unsure of how to proceed, acting upon instinct and what felt right, rocking your hips back and forth in a rhythmic motion. It was good, but you tried again, finding your pace with uncertainty. When you began to lightly move up and down, thighs stinging with a burning sensation, you knew that was perfect.

“Jacaerys,” You gasped, feeling his hand clamp down into the swell of your hip, guiding you along as best as he could. Each rock of your hips atop him sent him into a sea of bliss, savoring the warmth and tightness of your cunt. His head dipped down, finding the column of your throat. “Jace!” A whine escaped you, needy and wanton.

He pressed needy kisses into your neck, savoring the taste of your skin, sweet and heady. You continued to adapt to the newfound position, gently moving your hips in a rhythmic motion. Your body felt feverish, as if it had been set ablaze, stomach swirling with molten heat as arousal pooled between your legs.

Despite the sight of you, resplendent and glowing atop him, Jacaerys wanted to feel it all — and there wasn’t much that he could do like this. His hand gently coaxed you to the side, wanting to ease you down into the furs beneath you.

Much to your shared delight, you quietly obeyed, breath hitching within your throat as you moved to your back, with Jacaerys reassuming his position between your legs. His veined hand gingerly traced along your thigh, the other rooted near the sand to keep himself afloat.

Carnality festered between the both of you, like a smoldering flame, unable to be controlled. You gazed up at him, doe-eyed and devoted, an intimate look that was reserved only for him. Jacaerys gently pushed your skirts up enough to allow him movement, the head of his cock kissing your entrance.

His chest rose and fell with heavier sighs, and he nearly groaned when you peppered light, fleeting kisses along his sculpted jaw. “Are you alright?” He asked, voice strained with desire, having dropped to a delicate octave that stroked at the back of your mind.

It was bliss and ardor you felt, no longer clipped by the sting of discomfort or the uncertainty of your actions. You knew exactly what you wanted — whom you wanted, who you loved. “I am,” You reassured him, feeling his hand caress the inside of your thigh. “I love you.” Your smile spread quickly across your features, like the first inkling of daybreak.

Jacaerys moved forward then, deliberately sinking his hardened length into you, letting it fill you, bit by bit. The sensation was euphoric, aided by your shared sentiments and declarations of love. “I love you.” He hummed, a smile toying at either corner of his mouth as he dipped down to kiss you.

There was a poignant seriousness about the first time you lay together, and that same feeling was felt here too, only less intense. Instead, you felt the thrill of being with him, the desire, love — perhaps a touch of lightheartedness. He made love to you as if you’d been lovers for a thousand years already.

He began to adopt a passionate pace, one that filled your body with a pleasant buzz. With each thrust, he bottomed out inside of you, withdrawing his cock just enough to make the next movement count. A myriad of husky groans and excitable exhales escaped him, coupled with your own sweet moans.

The hand that had perched against your thigh began to drift toward the warmth between your legs, thumb seeking your clit again as he rolled his hips into you. You sighed with passion, hitching one leg around his hips, the other bumping into his side.

“You’re perfect.” Jacaerys murmured into the hollow of your throat, his tousled mane of curls within perfect reach of pulling and tugging. His lips showered you in untold amounts of affection, traveling from your slender neck to your collarbone, hot breath sinking into your skin.

Goosebumps crawled across your flesh as a brisk, oceanic breeze swept over you, but Jacaerys kept you warm, shielding you with his fire. You traced your fingers over the freckles dusted across his shoulders, one hand gripping at his shoulder, the other tangling into his thick tresses.

Your back arched slightly, careening into him as he circled your clit with his thumb, letting it meld into the rhythm of his thrusts. His cock throbbed with a lustful ache, on the verge of release, losing himself within you. Everything felt so euphoric, as if time stood still, the both of you tangled together on the beach.

A vigor began to take hold, boldening his strokes and furthering his ministrations, driving himself deep inside of you with every breath he drew. It was loving and gentle, the sort of tenderness shown in true acts of intimacy. It was difficult not to become so overwhelmed that he became sporadic — Jace wouldn’t subject you to that.

The feeling of his mouth hungrily swirling across your body made you whimper, arousal sinking like a pleasant weight within your stomach. His thumb caressed your clit, wanting to bring you to a release with him, if he could.

His name fell heavy upon your tongue, an incantation that only you could cry, laced with ardor and reverence. Jacaerys never tired of hearing you say his name — if it were up to him, he would have you say it a thousand times over. You tugged at his curls, coaxing him in for an open-mouthed kiss.

The coil that furled within you began to loosen, bliss following suit as your hips writhed beneath him, rolling into each thrust. Jacaerys groaned at the friction, brow dappled with a sheen of perspiration as he kissed you back, hand curling into a fist within the furs.

It was all tongue, mouths, bodies pressed together, heat — desire laid bare, and you gladly drowned yourself in it. You moaned into his mouth, foreheads pressed together as you shuddered, the dam breaking within your stomach. It all unfurled, reaching your peak in-tandem with Jacaerys.

He buried his face into yours, brows furrowing together, countenance one of sheer bliss as he released, seed spilling inside of you before he pulled himself out halfway through. Jacaerys felt that tide of bliss soon afterwards, attempting to make himself somewhat decent.

He didn’t leave you, composure regaining itself as you rode your release, body shivering with delight. You felt him lay next to you, still damp with inklings of sweat and saltwater mist. You exhaled, your skirts thoroughly ruffled and rucked around your hips.

You sat up, peering at Jacaerys through your lashes, your smile affectionate and smitten. His fingertips traced along the soft plane of your back, drawing delicate patterns there. “I’ll never grow tired of that.” You confessed, and it lightened the moment, prompting him to laugh.

A shade of rose coated his visage, brown hues sparkling with admiration as he caressed along your spine. “Neither will I,” Jacaerys agreed, sitting up enough to help pull your gown back into place. He didn’t know anything about lacing a bodice back together, but he could certainly try. “I cannot get enough of you.” He murmured, pressing a kiss against your shoulder.

A blossoming warmth flooded through you, accompanied with a feeling of pure bliss — he was sweet, and it made you feel incredibly fortunate. You felt his fingers find the ties of your gown, carefully maneuvering them back into place, kissing along your spine as he did so.

“We don’t have to leave.” You crooned, feeling his chin perch atop your shoulder, lips delicately peppering themselves along your neck. Your tone was a touch melancholy, knowing that when the dawn began to spread across the horizon, you would have to return to the realm of being apart again.

You could stay a thousand years, just as he had told you in Aegon’s Garden.

Jacaerys’s jaw tensed slightly — he wanted to ask you. It was opportune, and he wouldn’t have to be apart from you again. It would be so effortless, taking your hand and asking for you to be his wife, the future Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, but he couldn’t.

The silence made you somewhat concerned, and you turned enough to face him, head canting to one side. “Is something on your mind?” You inquired, cradling his face within your palm. You could see the storm behind his eyes, the curtain of contemplation.

Ask — ask her to be your wife.

Jace’s proposal turned to ash within his mouth. It would be a disservice to his mother and to your House if he simply acted. He wanted to ask your father, ease his mother toward the subject, go about it the proper way. This was the right way, asking you out of love and passion, but he couldn’t.

Not yet, at least.

“Nothing,” His lips twitched into a genuine smile as he reached for your hands, cradling them within his own, thumbs stroking your knuckles. “Know that I would go anywhere with you, if I could. I love you,” Jace assured, and you knew it to be true. “I am yours.”

You smiled, wanting to hold onto the moment for as long as you could. It was disheartening to have another wonderful evening shattered by reality, by the duty that bound the both of you elsewhere. “I love you, too.” You murmured, pressing a kiss against his jaw.

His countenance glistened with disdain at the idea of having to return to the castle — to separate rooms, to two different lives. Jacaerys wanted you by his side, and if fate would have it, he would not have to wait for much longer. Temperance and patience would endure.

There would be no staying together until dawn arose — no chance to hold you throughout the night, shield you from any shadows that might harm you. Jacaerys felt the weight of it sink into his stomach, and it made him treasure these moments with you even more.

“We should return to Dragonstone.” You uttered, as if the statement itself was a damnable curse. Your throat tightens slightly, but you maintained your composure, helping to collect his scarce belongings and clasp his doublet back into place.

Jacaerys could see the dismay upon your face, and it only made him ache with yearning, a desire to wipe away all of your melancholy. He pressed a kiss against the top of your head, and when the both of you stood in the sand, gazing at one another with a look of longing, he wanted to prolong your return for as long as he could.

“Not just yet,” Jacaerys uttered, reaching for your hand as he held it within his own, his forehead dipping to rest against yours. “Not just yet.” He whispered, tenderhearted smile reaching his eyes before he leaned in for a kiss.