#Hope yall like my daughter! ^^

[sashazakbun24]

Here it is! I had to dig around to find them

Meet Izzy the Isopod! She's 3'6ft tall, a selectively silent but organized little lady who loves cleaning! (except for Sam's house.../silly)

She would teach the importance of cleaning the environment and organizing your surroundings! ^_^

However she can be a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to organizing her home, place a book on the wrong spot of the shelf and she'll be upset!

"Oh no no no! That's not where it goes!" - Izzy

[fbfh]

Curiosity is a Wonderful thing ch. 12

wc: 2.6k

genre: slow burn, little angst, childhood best friends to lovers

pairing: slow burn bff!ben x fem daughter of alice!reader, mal x ben (allegedly), reader flirting with Jay for strategic reasons

warnings: sort of kind of dubcon ish only bc reader uses a truth serum on someone but it's contextually ethical and nothing shady happens, made up wonderland plants by yours truly, reader shakes them feminine wiles to get info in a very sfw way

summary: you brew a special blend of tea with the sole purpose of spilling tea with a friend of Mal's.

song recs: what baking can do - waitress OBC, power and control - marina, something bad - wicked obc

a/n: your outfit (it's the same one as ch11), also HI I MISSED YALL. things have been CONSTANTLY happening and good news is I'm finally on the right dose of adderall so I was able to knock out the last part of this chapter in like 20 minutes or smth lol. ily all and if I missed you in the tag list just hoot n holler at me in the tags!!

also candorcorn root is a made up plant that makes people tell the truth, and neutrestnuts are a made up wonderland chestnut that neutralize things

tags @yesv01@magcon7280 @hopefullhearts @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sunshineangel-reads @dustyinkpages @inejsknifes @tulipmagnoliaisme @ev3ningrain @yokolesbianism @ma1dita @casey1-2007 @roseidol @eaterof-concrete @enhacatalog @inejghafawifesblog @jjmaybankisawesome @leovergurl @formulas-bitch @starsdotalk @tulipmagnoliaisme @inejsknifes @ficslutt @bwormie @urmomlikeslinotoo @jazhandzzz

Your mind is reeling as you go over the elements of the strategy before you again and again. You have the candorcorn root - from the right side of the plant, of course - in a small pouch. You carry it into the school kitchens, gather the rest of your ingredients, and lay them out in a meticulous sort of mise en place. You let out a long puff of air out of your pursed lips, staying in a deep focus as you begin to do something you’ve done a thousand times before.

Brew a pot of tea.

You brew the candorcorn root into a strong concentrate, so strong it makes your eyes water. You set it aside to boil down as you settle on what the body of this beverage will be composed of. Candorcorn root is known for having a strong, bitter taste - sometimes with a sweet aftertaste depending on the truth that’s revealed, but you’re not counting on a particularly sweet truth under the current circumstances. 

To hide some of the earthy bite, you begin making your own blend of different dried herbs, spices, and tea leaves. You start with a base of English dinner - it’s much too late in the evening for English breakfast, even in tea form - then carefully whisk in a little bit of matcha. Once that’s steeping and nicely blended together, you muddle in a few fresh cranberries. You add in a healthy dose of your favorite Port Royal vanilla to lighten the flavor profile and minimize suspicion. 

Feeling mischievous, you add in a few mint leaves to the mix. After it brews together, you waft the steam into your nose. It smells… irresistible. Your mouth waters, and you scribble down the recipe on a napkin to make again later - sans the candorcorn root concentrate, of course. You check your pocket watch, and the time for action is growing nearer and nearer. You bite the crook of your finger in consideration. 

Your mother always used to tell you, the way to a man’s stomach is through his heart, and the way to his heart is through his chest cavity. You suppose it would be a rather good, sensible decision to have a backup plan of sorts. As bizarre as it is to think, you are aware that not everyone drinks tea - especially not as often as you do. You hum and rock on your heels anxiously, eyes darting around the kitchen as the self imposed deadline you’ve set marches coldly closer. 

“Wait,” you murmur, freezing as you get an idea. 

You begin digging through the kitchens as quickly as you can, looking for a few things. If you can get them together, you won’t need to worry about ensuring the specialty tea is consumed in full. You rifle through cupboards and pantry shelves, gathering chocolate spread, a large box of fluffy, cake-like cookies, hot chocolate powder, and a small jar of currents. You look around some more, huffing in irritated frustration at the lack of proper tea biscuits in the kitchen. 

Your disappointment is short lived, however, when you remember the large supply of tea biscuits you always carry around with you for just this sort of emergency. You reach into your teapot bag and pull out your sewing kit, then proceed to swiftly open it up and dump out all the biscuits it contains. Your sewing supplies is kept in a biscuit tin, of course, otherwise you’d get them all mixed up and find yourself hemming your trousers with snickerdoodles. A preposterous idea, of course, everyone knows that biscotti are best for mending trousers. 

The last crumbs fall and you’re brought back to the task at hand. Or rather, at foot, since that’s where the rest of the crumbs land when you stuff the empty tin back into your bag. You let out a shaky but determined breath, and begin to get to work as swiftly as you can manage. You falter once more, realizing that gloves are most likely in order here. You can only find your backup gloves, white and silky with a little pearl in the center of each wrist, but you suppose they’ll have to do.

It’s with a surgical sort of precision that you begin, soaking the biscuits in the candorcorn root concentrate just long enough to get soft around the edges. You lay out each biscuit meticulously, then slather them in a layer of chocolate spread and thick whipped cream. You repeat the process again and again until you’ve a little stack before you. 

Once satisfied with the deceptive desert before you, you top it off with more chocolate spread and a heavy dusting of powdered cocoa mix, sure that the sugary chocolate will balance out the earthy, bitter taste of the candorcorn root. You garnish the top with a few strategically placed dried currants, spelling out eat me along the top. 

You remove your gloves, careful not to get any candorcorn root on your bare hands, then make up another little pastry. The second one, however, is free of any Wonderland serums or juices, and instead is garnished with a few comfits from the container you keep with you - a habit you’d picked up from your mother. 

You next prepare a perfect cup of your brew, then a second containing your secret ingredient. Gloves, of course, are worn during that second step. Your cup is garnished with a piece of fig, the other with a cherry stuck along the rim of the tea cup, bleeding down onto the side. You place everything onto a silver tray, as tenderly as if you were in the middle of diffusing a bomb, and exit the kitchen with it in your only slightly trembling hands. 

You let out a steadying breath as you ascend the stairs in the great hall, making the turn towards the boys dorms. Stopping at an open window, you let out a whistle, signaling to a waiting bluebird that you’re ready, and to send word to your companions for the evening. You walk down the hall as silently as a ghost, only stopping when you hear rowdy yelling coming from behind a particular door. Your heart pounds in your chest, and after a few thrumming pulses, a large cat pads up to you, accompanied by a doormouse. 

“Alright,” you breathe solemnly, “it’s now or ever.” 

The doormouse skitters up to the knob, slipping into the lock and popping it open with a click. It slides down and scurries to safety, and you do the same, moving a few feet away and hiding in an alcove. The cat, brave and noble, slowly enters the room via the now ajar door. It only takes a few moments for the chaos to ensue. 

The silent, still hallway is filled with a riot of barking and yowling as the cat speeds out of the room like a bolt out of blue. She’s followed, of course, by Duke; and Duke is naturally followed by Carlos. They all shout and skitter down the hall, around the stairs, and deeper into the school until they’re out of earshot. You steady yourself, wait a moment, then poke your head into the room, now only occupied by one person. 

Jay.

“Couldn’t sleep?” You ask coyly from the doorway, blinking up at him. Jay seems surprised to see you, and answers around button mashing his way through the level he’s playing. 

“Uh,” He replies, distracted as he continues to look at the screen. “Yeah.”

He lets out a long string of curses as he takes a nasty hit, hemorrhaging hp when he’s nearly done with the level. There’s still a chance, and he continues to fixate on the screen. 

Perfect, you think.  

Using your foot, you gently nudge the door closed with a click. You reach behind you, flicking the lock closed, and walk forward. 

“I hope I’m not interrupting your winning streak,” you say with a cute smile, deliberately stroking his ego. “I just couldn’t wait until morning to tell you what an amazing job you’ve been doing at tourney.”

That gets his attention. Some of it, at least. 

“Oh, word?” He asks, smirking as he glaces away from the screen a little more. You nod, humming sweetly in response. You keep your eyes trained on him while you reach into your bag and slip on your gloves. You pick up his tiramisu and slink over to his bed, breaking off a moist, chocolaty bite with a fork. 

“Your athletic performance was… nothing short of inspiring.” You say slowly, bringing up the fork to his lips. “I bake when inspired.”

He chuckles, getting that cocky, flirtatious look on his face. He opens his mouth to reply with something you could only assume would be cockier than a spaniel, and in that moment, he presents the perfect opportunity for you to ensure he eats the first bite of your special pastry. He startles a little, then hums in approval at the enticing taste. You hand him the plate and offer him the cherry garnished tea, then remove your gloves, careful not to cross contaminate your dishes from his. 

“This is really good,” Jay says, and you smile more slyly than a Cheshire cat. “So,” you begin, dragging your fingertips across his wrist when he accepts the beverage from you, “tell me.”

You lean in like you’re utterly fascinated by him, like you can’t wait a moment more to learn all there is to know about him. 

“How is it that someone as…” you trail off with a breathy sigh. “Rugged… as you is still flying solo, as it were?”

You take a sip from your cup, gaze locked onto his, scrutinizing each quirk of his brow and twitch of his smirk, searching for anything he might reveal beyond his words.

“Well,” he starts, puffing his chest and acting all cool and nonchalant. “You know, playing the field is a full time job.”

“Both of them.” You hum. He looks at you blankly. You shake your head. 

“Nevermind.” You murmur. You can feel yourself growing antsy. You’re not sure how long your dear cat friend will keep Dude and Carlos distracted, and Jay’s had enough candorcorn root syrup to testify in front of a parliament of owls. It’s time to cut through the detritus and root around until you find what you’re really here for. You set down your teacup, leaning forward.

“Dating must be so hard coming from somewhere like the Isle.” 

He starts to answer, but you don’t pay much mind, continuing your train of thought. 

“It’s just… if someone as enticing as you hasn’t been locked down yet, how is it that Mal managed to get a prince like Ben wrapped around her finger so quickly?”

Jay puffs out his chest, laughing at your flattery and taking another bite of the tiramisu. 

“Well, I’m not really at liberty to say,” he starts, leaning casually and flexing his arms as he stretches. “But let’s just say Mal really worked her magic on him, you know?”

He laughs, and your stomach sinks. You have to remind yourself to manually laugh along with him. 

“Really,” you tease, leaning closer. “And what sort of magic would that be?”

“Oh, you know Mal and her freaky mind control thing.” He chuckles, wiggling his fingers in front of his eyes to mimic when hers glow. 

“But when you’re out on the tourney field…”

He continues boasting about his sportic success, but your mind is entirely elsewhere. Mind control. Of course. You wonder how you didn’t realize it sooner. Mind control, the same trance Mal’s mother used to lure Aurora up to the spinning wheel. Your heart starts thudding painfully in your chest as your mind races, grappling with the ramifications of what this could mean, the danger Ben and all of Auradon could be in. 

You stand up quickly, reaching into your tea pot bag and pulling out a few neutrestnuts you’d snagged from your last trip to Wonderland. You smack one loudly against Jay’s bedpost, cracking it open in one swift movement. Before he can ask what you’re doing - or even realize you’ve stopped listening to his ramblings about tourney - you’ve pushed the nut inside his mouth. 

“There we go,” you say, watching him to ensure he eats it. “There’s your after dinner nut. They’re all the rage in Wonderland.”

It’s a lie, but not one he needs to worry about. You gather up the remaining tiramisu and tea cups, leaving his dorm quickly. The neutrestnut should take effect and neutralize the honesty that comes from consuming candorcorn root, so Jay will be back to rights quite soon and be none the wiser. 

You wrack your mind as you try to figure out where you can learn more about dark fairy magic. Not much is known about it, and what is known is heavily debated by both magic experts and members of the fairy community. You pause, remembering something, something that sits just on the tip of your tongue. The Museum of Cultural History has Maleficent’s staff on display. Maybe there’s some information there, something too specific for the usual library catalogs. 

You check the time on your pocket watch and see the little hand is pointed to the words Hurry On Now Hurry Girl, The Doors Of Wisdom Are Nearly Closed!

Realizing the time pressure cooker of a pickle in which you find yourself, you take off like a bolt of midnight blue, rushing across campus to get to the museum on time. You’re sure you can persuade the guard to let you stay late, being from the Wonderland Embassy and all. When Alice Liddle of Wonderland is your mother, people tend to go along with any strange or unusual requests you make. 

You reach the museum just in the nicknack of time, catching the guard’s eye just as he’s about to lock up. After a rush and babble of explanations, he concedes, letting you in with a concerned nod. You’re not quite sure he’s following what you’re saying, but you’re in, which is really all you’re troubled with at that moment. 

“Oh- uh, I suppose so, Miss Liddel.” The guard agrees. “Just make sure to check in with me before you leave.”

“Thank you so much-” you glance down at his name tag. “Neil. Truly, thank you.”

He nods, accepting your gratitude. Before you can leave, he chuckles lightly.

“Doing some studying for parents day?” He asks with a smile. 

The archive is in your sight, but you stop in your tracks. 

Parents day. 

In the tizzy you’d been swept into you had totally forgotten parents day. Will you have enough time to prepare? You must. There’s really no way around it. Maybe if you can work quickly enough, you’ll be able to get back to your dorm soon enough to get everything ready by morning. You turn to Neil with a smile you hope comes off as sincere and not panicked. 

“Precisely.”

You enter the archive quickly, rushing through titles in hopes of spotting one that reads To Miss Liddel, Within Contains the Answer to All Your Troubles. Just like you’d expected, and unlike you had hoped, that particular book appears to be nowhere in sight. You don’t lose hope, though. You find a treasure trove of old, dusty, complicated books that each contain a little breadcrumb of what you’re looking for. 

You just hope you can gather enough to form a loaf before daybreak.

[cant-icle]

reading your own fic is both the best and the worst experience like

a) this bitch is a genius. this shit is so good. it's everything i ever wanted

but

b) where the fuck's the rest of it

[loisiru]

Spent the past few days watching Layers of Fear (2023) walkthroughs

[johnsbleu]

Hold My Hand: John Wick x Reader Chapter 147

 warnings: nsfw HMH masterlist

Standing at the sink, you wash up several bottles as Ronan babbles away in her bouncer. She’s very talkative lately, which just means she’s most likely going to be saying her first word soon. Right now she’s mostly just babbling a string of consonants and vowels, but every now and then she’ll babble ‘baba’ over and over, which always makes you laugh and poke fun at John. He doesn’t find it as amusing.

You look over at her as she waves her arms and kicks her legs, squealing loudly with delight. You smile as you dry off your hands and walk over to her, then you kneel down and tickle her chunky little belly as she giggles.

“You’re so happy today, bug.” you smile, then you pick her up and bounce her in your arms. “Where’s daddy, huh?”

About an hour after breakfast, John left to go do something, but he wouldn’t say what. You’re sure it’s nothing big, but he did say that he’d be home before lunch. It’s currently 1:30, and Ronan has just woken up from her afternoon nap. You thought John would be back by now.

You kiss Ronan’s cheek as you walk into the living room, and you look over when you hear John’s Mustang pulling into the driveway. You walk over to the window with Ronan and point out the window, and you smile when Ronan spots John.

“Is that daddy?” you smile as Ronan bounces and waves her arms in excitement of seeing her favorite guy. You put Ronan down on the floor and watch as she rocks back and forth, and you smile when you see John open the front door, “There’s your daddy!”

John smiles as he walks in, taking off his sunglasses to get a better look, “Hi, baby girl. Are you crawling?”

“She’s trying!” you laugh as you walk over to John and lean up to kiss him. “Hi, baby.”

“Mm, one more, beautiful.” John smiles as he leans down to kiss you again. “Wait, another one.”

John wraps his arms around you and holds you as he kisses you repeatedly, then he presses a kiss to your forehead before he leans back and looks at you. You smile when your eyes meet, then you look over when Ronan grunts and cries loudly since she can’t crawl over to John.

“Oh, I know, it’s just so frustrating!” you laugh as you walk over to pick her up, “You just want to see him, don’t you?”

Ronan kicks her legs and reaches out for John as you get closer to him, then she giggles and squeals as he takes her and kisses her cheek. She reaches up and puts her hands on his face, then she laughs when he playfully nibbles on her fingers. Ronan babbles and drools as she ‘talks’ to John, then she claps her hands together and giggles.

“She’s very happy today.”

You laugh as you walk over to sit on the couch, “When isn’t she? She’s a very happy baby, we’re lucky.”

John kisses Ronan’s cheek as he walks over to sit next to you, then he sets Ronan on his knee and bounces her as she laughs, “What have you been up to?”

“Not much. Amanda called and asked if I wanted to have a mom night with her and Tess this weekend.” you say as you look over at him, “Just grabbing some dinner in the city. If that’s…”

“Don’t even ask if it’s okay.” John looks over at you and shakes his head, “You don’t need to ask permission.”

You nod as you shrug, “I just didn’t know if you had plans.”

“Hanging out with my bug.” he says, bouncing Ronan on his knee, then he looks over at you, “And missing you.”

“John!” you sigh as he laughs.

John nudges your shoulder and laughs, “I’m teasing. Go out, have fun. I’ll be waiting for you to come back.”

“It’s not until Friday night.” you smile as you scoot closer.

“Fingers crossed that you don’t have a massive hangover.” John teases, and you playfully roll your eyes before you lean up to kiss him. He looks back at Ronan as she chews on her hands, then he bounces her again, “Ro, can you say dada?”

You smile as Ronan looks up at John with her big beautiful brown eyes, then she squeals and begins to babble. You get up from the couch to get a bib for her since she’s drooling quite a bit today, and you put it on her and sit back down next to John. Ronan babbles as John continues to try to get her to say dada, and you laugh as you watch the two of them.

“Ro, can you say momma?” you smile as you lean forward, and she looks over at you as she smiles, “Yeah, I’m your momma.”

“Momma,” John says as he points at you, “That’s momma.”

Ronan looks at John as he talks, then she kicks her legs and pants, getting herself all worked up. She continues to babble and say baba over and over until she finally says something to stop you and John from laughing. The two of you look at each other for a moment, then you start to laugh again.

“You heard that too, right?”

You laugh as you nod, “Yeah!”

“Da…da…” Ronan babbles as you laugh, and you look over to see tears in John’s eyes. “Dadadadada.”

“That’s right, baby, that’s your dada!” you smile as you point at John, “Where is dada?”

Ronan looks at you, then she reaches up for John as she continues to say dada. You wipe away the tear on your cheek as you laugh, and you lean over to kiss John’s cheek as he hugs Ronan. John laughs as he starts to cry, and you cry even harder seeing how happy he is to hear Ronan’s first word. You reach out to wipe the tear off his cheek, and he laughs when he looks over to see you cry.

“I wasn’t expecting her to say it yet!” he laughs, wrapping his arm around your shoulder to hug you, then he sniffles as you sit back up, “Oh, man, Ro, you got us crying!”

“Oh, shit! I need to write this down!” you get up and run upstairs to Ronan’s room, then you grab her baby book and make your way back to the living room. You smile when you see John still hugging Ronan tight, and he doesn’t even seem to mind that she’s drooling all down the sleeve of his shirt. You sit down next to them and open her baby book, “Okay, Miss Ronan, today’s date is…”

“April 12th.” John says, then he looks at his watch, “And it is 1:49.”

You smile as you write down the date and time, then you look up at Ronan and lean over to kiss her cheek, “Ro’s first word: Dada.”

“God, she’s getting so big.” John says, sitting her down between the two of you on the couch, “Look at her.”

You set the book on the coffee table, then you turn to face them on the couch, “She is, but we still have so long to go.”

John chuckles as he reaches over to touch your cheek, “She’ll say momma next.”

“She better otherwise I’m kicking her butt out!” you joke, then you hold tight to her hands so she can stand up, “She’s gonna start crawling soon too.”

“Talking and crawling,” John exhales dramatically as he sits back on the couch, “Gonna have our hands full.”

You laugh as you watch Ronan sitting in your lap, then you look at John and nod, “That we are. So, how was your day been? Where did you go?”

“Still not telling you.” he says, and you jokingly groan, “I was wondering, my sweet peach, if you’d want to go somewhere with me.”

You perk up and smile, “Where?”

“Well, I can’t tell you.” he laughs as he gets up from the couch, and Ronan reaches up for him as she says dada again. John looks down at her and smiles as he kneels down, “Me?”

Ronan reaches out for John and tugs at his beard, then she leans forward and bites his nose as he laughs. He holds her tight as he stands up, then he reaches for your hand and smiles when you stand up next to him.

“Get your purse and shoes.” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you, “I have a surprise for you.”

You smile as you look up at him, then you walk over to get your favorite ankle booties on, but you glance over when John makes a noise, “What?”

“We’ll be walking.” he says, looking down at your shoes, “Are you sure you want to wear those?”

Squinting your eyes a little, you grab the sandals next to the door and hold them up, “These good?”

“Yeah.” he nods, then he looks out the window, “Also it’s a little warm.”

You look up at him and laugh, “Why don’t you go pick out my outfit then?”

John bounces Ronan in his arms as he walks upstairs, and you follow behind them to your bedroom. You watch as John holds Ronan in one hand, then he opens the closet and sifts through your clothes. He pulls out a denim jean romper and holds it up as he looks over at you, a sweet smile spreading on his face.

“Uh,” you shrug as you walk over, “Sure. Anything else you want me to do?”

“Nope.” John smiles, looking at you, “You look beautiful today.”

You narrow your eyes a little as you look at him, “Can you tell me one thing?”

“Maybe.”

“Will I regret not wearing makeup by the end of the night?” you ask, and John looks at you, then he nods a little. “So that means I’ll be seeing people.”

John laughs, “Well, you already know that I think you’re the most beautiful woman, with or without makeup. I think you’re stunning always.”

Letting out a small laugh, you look over at him, “You’re sweet.”

You pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants, then you walk over to the mirror to make sure the romper looks okay on you. You turn a little to make sure it’s not too short on your butt, and you laugh when John reaches out to spank you.

“Okay, well, put Ro in something since you said it’s warm out. Just some leggings and a t-shirt is probably best.” you say as you back away, “I have to do my makeup now.”

John laughs, “Got it, boss lady.”

You laugh quietly as you walk into the bathroom to put on a little bit of makeup, and you start to get more curious about what John could be up to. He’s very spontaneous and he loves to surprise you with things, but you’re wondering what he could have been up to this morning.

Leaning forward, you put on a thin layer of lipstick, then you check yourself in the mirror and smile at yourself. You look really good! Your lashes actually cooperated with you today!

You head back out to the bedroom and grab out some different shoes that will match your outfit and be a little more comfortable to walk in, then you smile as you walk down the hallway to Ronan’s room. You peek around the corner to see John changing her diaper as he talks to her, then he leans down to kiss her.

“We’re gonna surprise momma.” John whispers, then he leans down to kiss her again. He stands her up in front of him as he fixes her leggings, then he grabs the peach colored dress and puts it on her before grabbing the headband with the big bow that she’ll definitely pull off after 5 minutes. “My beautiful little girl.”

You smile as John turns around, “God, I love watching you with her. You’re the best dad.”

“And you’re the best mom.” John smiles as he leans down to kiss you, “Ready?”

“Just need to pack Ro’s bag.” you say as you turn around to head downstairs. You smile when you hear Ronan still saying dada over and over, and you laugh as you look up at him, “How are you not crying?”

John laughs as he looks at Ronan, “I’m trying my hardest.”

“I’d be crying non-stop.” you laugh, packing up Ronan’s bag, then you put it on and reach out to take her from John, “You know she’s going to rip this bow off, right?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, leaning down to kiss her cheek, “But until then she looks cute. Lemme get a picture of you two.”

You scoff quietly as John pulls his phone, then you hold Ronan and smile, “Ro, look at dada!”

John waves his hand to get Ronan’s attention, then he snaps several pictures of you and Ronan smiling at him. He walks over to stand behind you as he snaps another picture with the two of you, then he kisses your cheek and shows you the picture.

“She’s starting to look more like her momma.” John whispers, zooming in on Ronan’s face, “Look at that dimple in her cheek.”

You smile as you look at her, then you look over at John, “She still looks just like you.”

Ronan yanks on your hair as you laugh, then you look up at John as he carefully pulls your hair from her grip. Her sticky little grip. How did her hands even get sticky? Babies are just so damn sticky all the time.

“Uh, I don’t know what you have planned but you might wanna grab some snacks for her.” you say as John walks into the kitchen to grab a few things, then he gestures for you to turn around so he can put a few things in your backpack for Ronan.

“Ready?”

You let out a small laugh, “I guess, yeah.”

John smiles as he wraps his arm around your waist, “You’re gonna be so surprised.”

__

You managed to get John to at least tell you where he’s taking you: New York City. You still have no idea what the fuck is going on, but you feel a little better knowing where you’re going.

Ronan has been babbling the entire car ride, still saying her new favorite word over and over, and John smiles proudly every time she says it. He’s trying not to cry but you know it’s hard. How could you not cry hearing your baby say their first word, especially when that first word is dada? You’d definitely cry too, and you will when she says momma for the first time.

Since she’s still so young, she isn’t in a forward facing car seat, which means all that you can see from your angle is her kicking her chunky little legs and feet. She kicks her feet and squeals loudly, and you look over at John as he laughs.

“That scream,” you press your finger to your ear and laugh, “It’s piercing. About to break some glass.”

John chuckles as he pulls onto the side of the road, “Yeah, she’s definitely got a loud scream.”

You look over to see the park next to you, then you look over at John, “Central Park?”

“Yeah,” John nods, then he reaches for your hand, “Our second date was here. Thought it’d be fun to bring Bug here.”

Before you can even reply, John gets out of the car and opens the trunk to get out Ronan’s stroller, then he gets her out and places her in it. You pull your backpack on as you walk over to them, then you smile at John when he looks at you.

“It’s a nice day.”

You nod, “It is.”

“A nice day for a walk with my girls.” John smiles as he pushes Ronan’s stroller, then he lifts his arm a little for you to hold. He smiles when you wrap your arms around his bicep, then he leans down to kiss you, “You look so beautiful today.”

“You look so gorgeous, babe.” you smile at him, looking into his gorgeous brown eyes, “Your eyes today just seem so warm--warmer than usual.”

“Because I’m really happy today.” he whispers, then he laughs, “I’m happy every day though.”

A smile spreads across your face as you look up at him, then you stand on your tiptoes to kiss him several times. You lean your head against John’s shoulder as you walk through Central Park, and you smile when you see families under the trees having picnics.

“We should have brought Bleu.”

John nods, “I thought about it, but we have somewhere else we’re going after this.”

You look up at John as your furrow your brow, “So, this isn’t my surprise?”

“The park?” he laughs, “Of course not!”

“What? I think this is a great surprise!” you laugh as you look up at him, “I like spending time with my babies!”

John smiles as he looks down at Ronan, “No, this isn’t the surprise, but I actually have two.”

You furrow your brow as you look at John, then you exhale loudly, “Fine, don’t tell me anything, Wick.”

Continuing your walk through the park, you look around at all of the people, but you start to notice a few men scattered throughout the park wearing all black suits, looking around every few seconds. You wouldn’t think it was so weird, if they weren’t frozen in place like statues. You grip John’s arm a little tighter as you look around, counting at least 4 different men. You look up at John as his eyes scan his surroundings, then he looks down at you and smiles.

“What’s going on?”

John stops walking and turns to you, “There’s someone who has wanted to meet Ronan for awhile.”

You look over your shoulder to see two men standing near a bench, then you look back at John, “Okay?”

“No one is going to hurt you two.” John whispers, then he sighs, “He just…doesn’t go anywhere without bodyguards. You’re safe, you’re always safe with me, you know this.”

“I know,” you whisper, then you move a little closer to John, “I just…I’m a mom.”

John laughs, “I know you are.”

“I’m protective of our baby girl.”

“And I’m just as protective of you and her. Maybe even more so.” John says, rubbing his hand on your back, “Trust me, I’m right next to you. Nothing will happen. You two are off-limits, and everyone knows that.”

You nod your head as you look up at John, then you close your eyes when he leans down to kiss you. You hold tight to John’s arm as he walks towards the bench, and you inhale deeply when the men move to reveal Winston sitting on the bench. You don’t even recall when you saw him last. He sent you some beautiful flowers when Ronan was born, but you can’t remember when you last saw him.

“Jonathan…” Winston smiles, reaching out to shake his hand. He looks over at you and nods, then he smiles softly when he realizes how nervous you are. “I’ve been looking forward to seeing you again.”

You smile as you grip John’s arm, “Hi. I’m sorry that I’m so…nervous, it’s just that--”

“You have a child to protect.” he nods, then he looks at John, “Jonathan wouldn’t have set up this visit if he didn’t trust that you two would be safe.”

He’s right. There’s no one in the world who loves you more than John loves you. He’d never let anything happen to you, and you know it. He would never set this all up if you thought there was even the slightest chance that something would happen.

Nodding your head, you feel yourself relax a little when you realize how happy John is to show off your baby. He smiles as he looks down at you, then he gesture to Ronan.

“You can get her out.” you smile, then you sit down on the bench next to Winston, “She might be a little fussy. She’ll be needing a nap in the next hour or so.”

John holds Ronan in his arms and bounces her a little so she isn’t too cranky, then he turns her around so she can see you and Winston. You wave at her as she kicks her legs, then she begins to babble.

“She’s just said her first word.” John smiles proudly, “Just this afternoon. She said ‘dada’.”

Winston chuckles, “She’s beautiful.”

“Thank you.” John smiles, then he walks closer to the bench to see if Ronan will freak out by this unknown man. She kicks her legs and squeals loudly, then she leans over and reaches out for Winston. “Her name is Ronan.”

“Ronan,” Winston nods, then he looks up at John, “A strong name. Ronan Wick.”

You lean forward to wipe the drool off of her chin since you’re sure Winston doesn’t want it on his amazing (and probably incredibly expensive) suit, then you smile when she blows raspberries. John gets a bib out for her, then he puts it on and carefully rubs his hand over her head, fixing her brown hair.

“She’s teething,” you chuckle quietly, “Sorry for all the drool.”

“Oh, I don’t mind.” Winston says, looking over at you, “I have several grandchildren of my own.”

You perk up a little and look at Winston in curiosity. You had no idea that Winston even had children. Winston is quite the mystery, to be fair.

Ronan looks up at Winston and reaches for his face, and he playfully nibbles on her fingers like John always does. You look up at John as he kneels down in front of you, then he places his hand on your knee and squeezes it lightly to get your attention. He nods his head slightly and holds your gaze for a moment.

We’re okay. He doesn’t have to say it out loud, but you can practically read his thoughts at this point. You squeeze his back and give him a soft smile.

You look over at Ronan as she sits on Winston’s knee and babbles, “She looks so much like her dad, doesn’t she?”

Winston smiles, then he looks at you, “I think she looks like her mother.”

“She’s beautiful,” John says, and you laugh quietly.

“And Jonathan, he’s a good dad?”

You nod as you look at John, “The best. I truly mean that. He’s great with her, and they’re thick as thieves. Ronan is very lucky to have a dad like him. Everything came pretty naturally to him as well, and yeah, they just love each other so much. It’s very sweet to be able to see John as a dad.”

“And he’s still good to you?”

“Yeah, absolutely,” you nod, tearing up a little over the thought of how much John truly loves you, “He’s…truly an amazing man. I’m very lucky. Both us girls are very lucky.”

“Just as crazy about her as I was when I met her.” John laughs, and you pat his cheek as you nod. “Even crazier now that we have this one. Seeing her as a mom has been amazing. If anyone is lucky, it’s me.”

Winston looks down at Ronan as she plays with a button on his suit, “Thank you for allowing me to meet her.”

“Of course.” you smile as you look over at him.

John stands up and smiles when Ronan reaches up for him, then he takes her and holds her tight to his chest. He looks over at you and smiles, silently telling you that it’s time to leave. It was a quick little visit, but you’re sure John planned it that way as to not completely stress you out.

You reach over to shake Winston’s hand, then you get up and take Ronan from John when she reaches out for you. You hold her tight as she babbles, then she quickly starts to cry since she’s getting tired.

“Perfect timing.” you laugh, then you look up at John and nod towards the water fountain, “I’ll be over there.”

“Don’t stray too far.” he whispers, leaning down to kiss you.

You smile at John as you bounce Ronan in your arms, then you sit down on the edge of the water fountain and put Ronan in your lap. You lean forward to see her face as she watches the water, and she stops fussing and turns her attention to the water shooting out of the statue.

“You like that? Maybe we need to get a fountain for at home.” you laugh, then you pull off your backpack and reach in for a penny. “Let’s make a wish, bug.”

Holding the penny tight to your chest, you close your eyes and make a silent wish before you toss the penny into the water. Ronan claps her hands and looks up at you as she smiles, and you press a kiss to her cheek.

“Look, water.” you lean down and dip your hand into the fountain, then you sprinkle some water on Ronan’s little feet. She leans forward to touch her feet, then she giggles and looks up at you.

Looking over your shoulder, you see John still talking to Winston, but he glances over at you every few seconds. You chuckle to yourself a little, then you reach into your bag to get Ronan a snack to tide her over for a little bit.

“Hey,” John sits down next to you and smiles, then he looks at Ronan, “Are you playing in the water?”

“Honestly if I didn’t have such a tight grip on her, she’d be in there already.” you laugh as you pinch off a piece of banana for her, “Probably by next month, we can teach her to swim in the pool.”

John nods, “That’ll be fun.”

“My mom actually taught swim lessons at our local community center when she was pregnant with me,” you say as you look over at John, “Just a way to make some extra cash, you know. But anyway, she taught the classes, so she’d know how to teach Ronan.”

“We should definitely have her come over and teach her then.” John smiles, leaning over to kiss your cheek, “Winston said you looked beautiful and that you look good as a mom.”

You laugh, “Really?”

“Yeah, and he said Ronan was ‘darling’.” he chuckles, reaching over to feed Ronan a piece of banana. “He did feel bad that you seemed a little stressed out.”

“I just didn’t want anything to happen.”

John nods, then he shakes his head, “Nothing is going to happen to you two. You’re completely off-limits. Everyone knows this.”

“Oh, is there like some list of people who can’t be touched?” you laugh as you look at him, “An off-limits hit-list.”

“No,” John laughs, then he holds your gaze, “No one would dare hurt you two. Look at everything I did before, everything that I did for a ‘car’ and a ‘puppy’, it was more than that to me, but to everyone else it wasn’t. You really think someone would try to kill my wife and daughter after knowing what I did for a car…and a puppy?”

You bite your lip a little as you look up at him, then you shake your head, “I hate when you say that stuff.”

John laughs, “Why is that?”

“Because it’s hot,” you laugh as you hold his gaze, “And it makes me wanna take you into our bedroom, and you always say that stuff at the most inappropriate time.”

“How about tonight? How does that sound?” John whispers against your lips, and you nod your head. “It’s a date then.”

You look down at Ronan as she leans back against your chest with her eyes closed, and you laugh quietly when you see the banana stuck to her chin. John carefully takes the banana from you so you can get up and put Ronan into her stroller, then you pull your backpack back on.

“I still have one more surprise.” John says, and you look up at him, “But it’s not far from here. Just a short little walk.”

__

You’re pushing Ronan’s stroller as John places his hand on your back, and you look at him when he stops walking. You furrow your brow a little bit as he looks across the street at some shops, then you pull Ronan’s stroller with you as you walk backwards towards him.

You lean closer and whisper, “What’s going on?”

“Follow me.” John says, and you push Ronan’s stroller as you follow behind John to an empty shop. He cups his hands in front of his eyes and leans forward to look into the shop window, “Think it’s open?”

You shrug as you look at him, then you widen your eyes when he opens the door and walks in, “Jonathan! You can’t just walk into a shop!”

“It’s empty, it’s fine.” he laughs, reaching for your hand. He carefully pulls the front of Ronan’s stroller through the door, then he reaches for your hand, “Come on.”

Groaning quietly, you look around to make sure no one is watching, then you take John’s hand and walk into the empty shop. You look around at it and shrug, “What are we doing here?”

“Well,” John looks down to make sure that Ronan is okay, then he walks over to you, “This is your new shop.”

You jerk your head back and furrow your brow, “My new what?

John smiles, then he gestures to the shop, “This is our new shop. I bought it.”

“I…” you look up at John as you shake your head, then you look around at it again, “Why?”

“We’ve talked about expanding.” he says, shrugging as he walks over to you, “It’s a good investment too. Look how well our shop does. This shop will thrive here. It’s in a perfect spot. People can come here, grab a book, then head over to the park to read it. It’s near a coffee shop and a deli is around the corner, it’s perfect.”

You nod your head as you listen to John, then you look up at him, “But you’ll never be home now.”

“I will always be home. Just like I am now.” he smiles, rubbing his thumb over your cheek, “For the first month or so, I thought you and I could come out here more often and help out. Together. Always together. But on the rare days that I’m here by myself, you can bring Ro up here, and we can have lunch in the park.”

John smiles as he walks over to the window, then he reaches out for your hand to pull you over to him.

“We had our second date right there. We sat on that very bench.” John smiles as he points at a bench in the park, “I knew from the moment I met you that you were the one for me, but I truly knew I couldn’t live without you after that second date.”

You smile as you look up at John with tears in your eyes, “I just don’t want this to change us.”

“Nothing will change with us.” he whispers, pulling you into his arms, “I’m still going to be crazy about you. Think of how fun this is going to be, you and me in here painting the walls and fixing it up. There’s so much more space here, and I know you want to do some things at the shop back home, but with the limited space, we’re not able to.”

Reaching up, you touch John’s cheek, “You’re not gonna be stressed out over this?”

“Of course not.” he shakes his head, then he smiles, “If I felt like I was going to be stressed, I wouldn’t have bought it.”

You nod your head as you close your eyes and lean against John’s chest, then you wrap your arms around his waist and hug him tight. John rubs his hands over your back as he holds you, then he leans down to kiss the top of your head.

“So, what do you think?”

“I think it’ll be fun.” you nod as you tilt your head back to look at him, “Fixing it all up will be fun. Spending the day up here with you getting it ready will be a lot of fun, and we can even bring our bug with us sometimes.”

John nods his head, then he claps his hands, “This is going to be so fun, baby. I’ve been dying to tell you for weeks now.”

At the end of the day, you know that you and John have a strong marriage, and you know that this won’t put any stress on it. You and John have something special, and buying a new shop won’t change that.

“We have another bookshop.” you say as you look up at him, then you jump into his arms and wrap your legs around his waist, “We have another bookshop!”

“We do!” John laughs, kissing you over and over, then he sets you down, “I thought we could do the kid’s section over here, then on this side we can do non-fiction. Oh, and there’s a basement, I thought that would be nice for the office so it’s out of the way.”

You look over at John as he gets even more excited to tell you about everything that he has in mind, and you hold his hand and look up at him with heart eyes as he gets more and more excited.

__

John invited all of the employees out to the new shop so they could check it out, and he’s been so excited to show them around and tell them how he plans to fix everything up. It won’t be open for at least 2 more months since you’ll need to fix some parts of the flooring and paint the walls, plus you have to get the shelves stocked with books, but John is so damn excited.

You’re sitting on the counter as John tells them the plans that he has for the shop, and since it’s in Manhattan, John wants the shop to be a little more sophisticated. He still wants the cozy feel that the shop has back home, but he also wants this shop to thrive here with a different aesthetic.

John leans back against the counter next to you and sighs, “Me and the Mrs. have been talking, and we had a pretty hard conversation last night. I want you all to know that she cried.”

“I did.” you laugh as you look at him.

Grace gasps loudly as she puts her hand over her mouth, and you and John both start to laugh.

“It was a good conversation!” you laugh as you look at her, “So whatever you’re thinking, that’s not happening.”

John pats your thigh and smiles, “Definitely not happening.”

“Oh, thank god.” Grace exhales as she closes her eyes. “I didn’t think so, but you really phrased that weird.”

You let out a small laugh as you look over at John--people truly love the two of you together, and they’re all rooting for you.

“We love having you all at the shop in Mill Neck, but we’re willing to let any of you transfer out here if that’s what you’d want.” he says, then he looks at one of the newer employees that he hired while you were pregnant, “Naomi, I know it’s closer to home for you…”

Naomi nods, “It is.”

“This shop won’t be open for a few more months, three at the most, and we plan on being here every day for the first two weeks, but after that, we’ll come out every Wednesday when Ronan is with her grandparents.” John says, then he chuckles when he sees you’re tearing up. “Look at her, crying again.”

“I’m just so sad yet proud. We love all of you, and you’ve become part of our family. I’m so sad to some of you go, but I know it’s best since you’ll be closer to home.” you carefully wipe away the tear on your cheek, then you look over at a few employees as they smile. “This is good! This is a good thing though! This shop is going to thrive out here, and you are all going to do great.”

Grace raises her hand a little, “I don’t plan on leaving you!”

You smile as you hop off the counter and hug her, “Thank you.”

“I’m close to my mom. I’m not leaving.” she smiles, leaning back to look at you, and you smile. “Plus if I leave, I’ll never see my best girl! I need little Ronan in my life for my sanity.”

Grace has no idea, but you and John talked about promoting her to store manager last night. She’ll make more money than she’s making now, so she should be happy about that.

You look over your shoulder as John pops open a bottle of champagne, then he pours a little into several cups. He hands them out to the employees as you walk back over to him, then he smiles and hands a glass to you.

“This is going to be good for us.” he whispers softly to you, and you nod your head. He turns back to everyone and intertwines his fingers with yours before he lifts his glass, “To our extended family.”

You smile as you listen to the plastic cups clinking, and you look up at John as he leans down to kiss you. You set your glass aside, then you wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him over and over until you both laugh.

“To my beautiful wife,” he whispers as he holds up his glass, “Just toasting you in general.”

“Kiss-ass.” you smile as you lean up to kiss him, then you grab your glass and drink it.

__

You look over your shoulder as the shop door opens, and you smile when John locks it behind him and walks over to you. You turn around to face him, then you slide your hands up to his biceps and smile when he looks up at you. John looks over your shoulder to the basement stairs, then he cocks up his eyebrow a little.

“It’s only us.” he whispers, then he nods to the door, “The door is locked.”

Biting your lip a little, you nod your head and smile, then you hold tight to John’s hand as he leads you downstairs to the office. There’s already a desk here that was left by the previous owner, so that’s a bonus. John shuts the door behind him and locks it, then he cups your face and kisses you hard on the lips before he lifts you up and sets you on the desk.

“You look so sexy today.” he whispers in your ear, and you let out a small laugh, “I love these jeans on you.”

You close your eyes and tilt your head to the side as John kisses your neck, then you  smile as you lean up to kiss John. You tilt your head to the side for a better angle while you kiss John, then you slide your tongue into his mouth and listen as he moans softly, both of you becoming more desperate for one another. His hands slowly slide down your back to your ass, and he pulls you closer before moving his hands back up to your waist.

“My handsome husband,” you whisper as you hold his gaze, then you pull your shirt off. You smile as John stares at your lacy bra, then he gently runs his finger over the lace and smiles when your nipple grows hard. You reach down and pull John’s shirt over his head, then you toss it to the floor, “You want me?”

John nods, “More than you can even imagine.”

Laying back on the desk, you close your eyes and smile when you feel John kissing your stomach, then you open your eyes to him looking at you in awe.

“God, you’re so sexy,” he whispers in your ear as he caresses your sides, then he begins to kiss down your chest between your breasts. He licks up your chest, then he kisses over to your breast, pulling your bra down a little to reveal your nipple.

You smile at him, then you close your eyes when he sucks on your nipple, “Oh, shit…”

John pulls the lace from over your other breast, then he flicks his tongue over it and sucks on it as you let out a small moan, “Does that feel good?”

“Mhm,” you shiver as John kisses down your stomach to your hipbone, then you tilt your head up and watch as he unbuttons your jeans. You help John pull them down, feeling the ache between your legs get stronger when he kisses your thighs, and you lay back on the desk and smile.

“Wish there was a chair in here.” John laughs as he kneels down in front of you, and you sit up and watch as he moves your underwear to the side, “I don’t mind though.”

Laying back on the desk, your eyes roll shut and you smile as John sucks and licks your thighs, and he lets out a small laugh every time you get a little too excited with the thought of him finally devouring you. You prop yourself up to watch John as he sucks on your thighs, and you bite your lip when he slowly rubs his finger over your clit.

Letting out a moan, you tilt your head back and pant as he pumps his finger in and rubs your clit slowly, and you grip the sides of the desk in your hands as you arch your back.

“Oh, shit,” you spread your legs open and look down at John as he smiles, “Please…”

“Are you ready?” he asks, and you nod your head as you pout. “Good because I’m dying for a taste.”

You let out a loud moan as soon as John’s warm tongue slides against your clit, and your body begins to shudder every time his nose bumps against your clit, “Oh, yeah, keep doing that.”

“You taste so fucking good,” John say between your legs, then he buries his face again, shaking his head from side to side as you moan.

You reach down and run your hands through John’s hair, then you intertwine your fingers with his and roll your hips as you begin to climax. You roll your hips against John’s face as you let out a loud moan, then you grip his hands tighter as your body overcomes with pleasure, shaking and shivering on the desk.

John kisses up along your body as he stands up, then he rolls you onto your stomach and pulls you until you’re bent over the desk, and you smile when you hear him undoing his belt. You pant against the desk as you close your eyes, and with one quick motion, he buries himself deep between your legs.

“Oh, fuck,” John lets out a small laugh, “Shit, you’re so wet.”

You whimper loudly for John as he thrusts his hips fast and hard, and you grip the side of the desk, squeezing your eyes shut. You only just had an orgasm, so you’re overly sensitive right now, but fuck, he feels so good, and there’s no way he won’t make you come again.

“Oh, shit, John!” you moan loudly as you lean up on your hands, then you tilt your head back and kiss him.

John’s right hand slides up your side to your breast as he grunts and breathes heavily, and you open your mouth to moan when you feel like you’re about to come again. The sound of John’s hips against your ass fills the small room, and you lean back against his chest as he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight, jerking his hips harder to bring on his orgasm.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he whispers in your ear, then he sucks on your neck, “Oh, shit, you’re about to make me come.”

Gasping and moaning, you look back at John as he watches himself between your legs, then you smile when he looks up at you, “You love my pussy, don’t you?”

“Yes,” John nods, leaning back to watch himself sliding in and out of your pussy, “Best fucking view; watching my cock deep in your pussy.”

You lay back down on the desk as John leans back to watch himself fucking you, then he groans loudly and pushes himself deep inside of you, still thrusting his hips every few seconds as he fills you up. John buries his face in the crook of your neck and pants loudly against your skin, and you kiss him several times before you put your head down. You close your eyes and exhale as John slowly slides from between your legs, then you smile when you feel him kissing up your spine.

“Well, the bookshop is officially christened.”

John chuckles breathlessly, “Probably not the best word for it.”

“No, probably not.” you laugh as you prop yourself up, then you look over at John as he pulls his boxers and jeans back up. You close your eyes and smile when John leans down to kiss your cheek, then you laugh when he spanks you, grabbing a handful as he bites his lip.

“Wait here.” John whispers, and you look over at him as he pulls his shirt on and walks out of the office. He comes back in a few moments later with some tissue, then he smiles as he hands it to you. “Here.”

You smile as you take the tissue from him to clean up the mess between your legs, then you hand it to him so he can throw it away while you get dressed again. He stands outside the door and smiles when you reach out for his hand, then you head back upstairs with him.

As you get back upstairs, you smile and look around at the shop, envisioning what it’ll look like in a few weeks times. Probably lots of boxes of books that will need to be put on shelves. You’ll definitely recruit Jimmy and Tess to help you since Jimmy is currently working on the shelves John requested.

John wraps his arms around you from behind, then he kisses your cheek a few times before he takes your hand and spins you around to face him. The two of you stand in each other’s embraces for a moment, then you feel John kiss your forehead before he lets you go.

“Gonna be fun having another shop.” John smiles as he holds your hand, then he hands your purse to you. “Can’t wait for it to open.”

“I’m nervous.” you admit, then you look up at John. “I know you said nothing will change with us, but I’m just worried. We have a strong marriage, we really do, I’m just being silly.”

John unlocks the door and opens it for you, then he locks it once you’re standing on the sidewalk. He turns to you and smiles, then he reaches for both of your hands, preparing to give you a whole speech.

“I know what you’re going to say.” you laugh, then you imitate John’s deep voice, “I’m crazy about you. I’m always going to be crazy about you. That won’t change.”

“Oh, so you don’t need a pep talk then?” John nods, letting go of your hands as he backs away, “Okay.”

“Stop!” you laugh as you run over to him and wrap your arms around his waist. You sigh quietly as you look at him, shaking your head and closing your eyes, “Just…just give me a pep talk.”

John smooths your hair back and smiles, “It’s true: I am crazy about you. More than you could ever imagine, and that truly won’t change. Yes, it’ll be a little different for us to come out here when this shop opens, but once it’s up and running, I won’t be coming out here all the time. You and Ronan are everything to me, and that’s where I want to be: with my favorite girls. When I come out here, you’re coming with me.”

“I just don’t want us to grow apart, or…you start picking up shifts out here and then you come home at night and you’re exhausted and don’t want to spend time with me and Ro. Or you find that spending time out here is better than being with…me. I’m not saying you’re going to cheat on me or anything. But…”

John cocks up his brow, “You realize how ridiculous that sounds, don’t you?”

You laugh as you look up at John, “As soon as I said it.”

“Baby, I’m not going anywhere.” John gently rubs his nose against yours and smiles, “Never. You’re my best friend, and everything is so much better when you’re around.”

Tilting your head back, you smile as you look up at John, then you flinch when a raindrop lands on your cheek. You look out at the street as the rain starts to fall down, and you hold tight John’s hand as the two of you run to the car in hopes of dodging the rain.

“John!” you laugh as you put your hands above your head, then you stomp your foot a little, “I’m getting soaked! Hurry up!”

John laughs as he reaches into his pockets for the keys, then he looks over at you, “You have the keys!”

You look in your purse for your keys, then you toss them to John as you run to the car. He quickly runs over to open your door for you, then he helps you get in before he runs over to the driver’s side.

“You know you don’t have to open my door every time, especially when it’s pouring rain.” you laugh as you reach into the glove compartment for tissues, then you smile when you realize John is staring at you, “What?”

“Nothing,” he laughs as he shakes his head, then he shrugs, “I just never realized running through the rain could be so much fun.”

You smile as you lean over to kiss him, then you run your fingers through his damp hair and pull him closer. You rest your forehead against John’s as you exhale quietly, then you lean back and hold his gaze.

“We’re strong, baby.” John whispers against your cheek, and you nod your head and smile, “Nothing is going to break us, you know this.”

You nod, “I do. I just love you and I don’t want to lose you.”

“You’re never losing me, peach.” John smiles, then he points at his wedding ring, “Good luck trying to get rid of me! Just about as obsessed with you as a guy can be.”

Placing your hand on John’s cheek, you lean over to kiss him again, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” John smiles, kissing your cheek, “Now let’s go home and change into our pajamas and just enjoy some husband and wife time.”

You smile as you reach over for John’s hand, “Sounds like a really good plan!”

“I won’t lie…” John starts the car and looks over at you, “I might need some more time with you later.”

You laugh, “Didn’t get your fill on the desk?”

“I never do,” he says, reaching for your hand, “I never will.”

You lean over to kiss him softly, “Me neither.”

__

I think i’m going to make a little post soon about who wants to be tagged because i always like to update my taglist and make sure i’m tagging people who want to be, so if u do want to be tagged you can always let me know!

taglist: @sakurachan-9​​ | @beingnerdyissupercool​ | @ruby-octo​ | @aragornswife​ | @angie-20000

[somethingsomethingcomic]

red / blue

[thedeadthree]

ok ok FINEE ill make a g*ojo girlie anything for pookie i GUESS!! <3

[delightfullygiddy]

I feel like i gain an intangible golden sticker with "pleasure to have in class" applied to me every time someone in public says nice things back to me.

[sluttysnowangel666]

His Second Wife - cregan stark x reader (request)

summary: two years following the death of cregan’s first wife, he accepts an undesired marriage proposal to rhaenyra targaryen’s daughter. rhaenyra’s daughter, who had loved cregan the moment she first met him as a young girl, immediately loves and accepts cregan’s first child as her own. yet it is still not enough for cregan to find his own love for his new wife.

cw: mean cregan😓, widow!cregan, targ!reader, loss of virginity(reader), rhaenyra’s daughter, angst to fluff, unrequited love, sex, happy ending

do yall notice i always post a long ass story usually around midnight or later ( i’m unwell)also this is long af soz it was a detailed request and I wanted it to be to a T. this is SOO long. i prolly should have done two parts… oh well @lillithsalvatore hope you enjoy it love ❤️

“How do you feel, my love?” Your mother asked, placing a warm and comforting hand on yours.

You sighed. “Nervous.”

She gave you that warm and sweet smile of hers. “I know. I hope you know this choice was not easy for me to make, as I know this was a hard task for me to place upon you.”

“I know, mother.” You say with forgiveness, giving her hand a squeeze.

“Had it been any other lord I would have surely declined but… Starks are the most honorable among men. I know your union will be blessed by the gods.”

You give her a smile, blindly trusting her words. You had met him once, and you knew he was kind. In fact, he had left a paw shaped imprint on your heart. You thought to yourself no union could be more suitable. You knew he had married once before out of a prior marital alliance, but the marriage had been short lived, lasting only a year before his first wife died in her birthing chambers.

It took more than four moons before you arrived at Winterfell, as if every power in the world was set on preventing it. You were not a superstitious person, so you simply thought all the bad things that happened prior to your marriage was coincidence.

Each time you went to leave, something prevented you. Your mother miscarried your baby sister, Lucerys was killed by Aemond, Daemon went silent at Harrenhall, Rhaena ran away and was lost in the eyrie before revealing she claimed Sheep-stealer.

You arrived in the dead of winter, and the journey had not been kind to you. You got a chill on the way up, causing you to stop at an inn for a few nights, you had came across raiders who killed one of the many men escorting you, and your clothes were ill suited for the weather.

You did eventually arrive at Winterfell thankfully, all in one piece.

You stepped out of the carriage cautiously, eyeing the snowy landscape surrounding you. It went as far as the eye could see. You held your hand out, letting the thick snowflakes fall and melt in your hand.

“My princess.” You turn to see Cregan, walking towards you. He bows, forcing a politeness. “Winterfell is yours.”

You bow in return, “No need for such formalities, Lord Stark. This is your home, and I am honored to have you welcome me here.”

He nods, choosing to say nothing else to you.

“Please show the princess to her chambers.” He says to one of the servants, then immediately turning on his heels to leave. Your jaw falls slightly, surprised at his curt demeanor.

You compose yourself, trying to hide the slight hurt in your features before making your way to your private chambers.

You bathed immediately, welcoming the hot water against your skin. No water could be hot enough for your dragon blood, but what they had drawn up for you would do nicely.

Your wedding was a week after your arrival, the lord having given you time to settle in. You had not seen him much during that week so you chose not to bother him, assuming he was busy with duties.

When you walked down that snowy path to the red weirwood, Cregan stole a glance at you. You looked beautiful, and he felt horribly guilty for thinking it. He felt like what he was doing was betraying her.

You said your vows, swearing your love before the old gods. You smiled at Cregan and he gave you a forced one in return. Guilt wracked his whole body. He felt guilty for you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give you a union where you were loved, he felt guilty for liking your smile, he felt guilty for forgetting hers.

There was a feast following the ceremony, nothing large due to the pains of winter, but it didn’t bother you. The small gathering felt intimate, compared to southern weddings where lords and ladies travelled from all over the realm to witness it.

It was here you met Cregan’s son, Rickon.

“Hi, little one.” You said. He was only two, a fat little babe who looked just like Cregan.

“Rickon, this is my new wife.” Cregan said. The way he worded it made you twitch, it had sounded so strained. He didn’t even use your name. You told the boy the name he could call you, but he said nothing as he hid behind his father’s leg.

“I apologize.” Cregan said, his voice showing no sign that he actually was sorry.

“It is alright, my lord. He is just a babe. He and I will have time to get to know each other.” You said. Cregan tensed up, suddenly remembering again this union was forever.

“Excuse me, princess.” He said, turning and walking away with Rickon. Your heart sunk a bit. You could start to sense it now, Cregan was not in the slightest invested in your union together. You felt lost, out of place suddenly.

You sat back down at the high table, overwhelmed with nervousness. You bit at your nails and the skin around them, biting until they bled. You missed your mother dearly. Being here, in this room among strangers who didn’t care much for southerners to begin with, made you feel small.

You had sat there for an hour or two, not moving or eating once, save for your cuticles.

Cregan came to you, not noticing your nervous state. If he had noticed, he chose to ignore it. “I’ve put Rickon down… Would you please accompany me to my chambers?”

You looked at him, the nail bed of your thumb resting between your teeth. You nodded, standing and staring at the hall one last time. You locked eyes with a man, who noticed you both about to take your leave.

“Is it time for the bedding ceremony, Lord Stark?” The man asked, erupting a few cheers from the men mostly.

“No!” Cregan nearly barked the order. “There will be no bedding ceremony.”

The men in the crowd shuffled awkwardly at his outburst but accepted.

“Princess.” Cregan said, walking away and not waiting to see if you were following.

You did anyway, struggling to keep up with his quick pace. You had the sense he wanted this to be over with quickly.

He held the door as you both entered his chambers. You took in your surroundings. It was a clean and large kept room with a lit hearth and a large bed. A thought passed your mind, even though you tried to push it down.

Did he share these chambers with her?

Cregan began to take off his armor and furs, again not watching to see if you did the same, only assuming you were. If you weren’t, he didn’t care.

“Um, could you help, my lord?” You asked, referring to the laces of your white wedding dress.

He sighed, walking over to you as you turned your back to him. Your eyes welled with tears, but you tried to hide it.

His hands were gentle with the laces, not tugging at them as you expected him to. He obviously had experience doing this before.

He grew emotional as he undid your dress, but he hid it well. It was a weird sense of deja vu. Your hair looked like hers from the back and he felt like he was back at his first wedding.

You pushed the dress off, revealing the sheer linen soft dress underneath. He hadn’t moved from behind you, trying to maintain his composure. You walked away from him, lying on the bed and biting your nails again.

He finished disrobing besides his briefs, and you stole a glance at his back. It was huge, muscular and scarred.

He walked over to the bed, getting between your legs and pushing up your shift.

“Is this alright with you, princess?” He asks. “We need not consummate this if you are not ready.”

For the first time it seemed like he kinda cared about how you felt. His hand still had a hold of your shift, which was resting on your pelvic bone.

You nodded, “Is it alright with you, Lord Stark?”

He nodded, pushing your shift up the rest of the way to reveal your chest. He wanted to fall on his sword for the way he kept stealing glances at your breasts.

He pushed his briefs down, and you choked on your breath at the reveal of his length.

“Oh, gods.” You mumbled under your breath.

He rubbed himself against your slit, and your heart stilled for a minute. The feeling was foreign and intense.

He gently grabbed your wrist, pulling your hand away from your mouth. You hadn’t even realized you were still doing it, it was starting to become like breathing. A natural, unintentional habit.

Your hands fell to his biceps to steady yourself. You looked at him, but he did not meet your gaze. He instead bowed his head, watching himself enter inside you.

You dug your nails into his arm, gasping in shock. He gently shushed you, telling you it was okay.

“Please, please.” You said, not knowing what you were even pleading for.

“What?” He asked gently, his voice low and almost mimicking of your whining. It sent a shiver up your spine.

He was slow and gentle with you, not in it for any pleasure himself.

You touched his chest and his hair and his arms, and while he didn’t stop you he made no effort to touch you himself. His hands rested beside your head, holding up his weight.

Your hands found his arms again and you moaned softly, feeling your peak building in your stomach. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead to his head, moaning as you spilled onto him. He closed his eyes as he felt it, and guilt wracked him again.

He gently pulled out of you and stood up, immediately dressing himself into his nightwear. You pushed your shift back down and pulled the linen covers over you, immediately going back to biting your nails at his reaction.

He laid beside you, not facing you and not saying anything.

You said nothing, but it hadn’t gone unnoticed how he intentionally avoided spilling himself into you.

———

It had been 3 months since your arrival to Winterfell, and you had adjusted as well as you could given the circumstances.

You did not often see your lord husband, but you were used to it. He spent a lot of his free time in the crypt where she was. It hurt, but you gave him his peace and he appreciated that you didn’t hover.

“Mummy!”

“Sh, sh, love.” You say as Rickon runs into your chambers.

Cregan did not like when Rickon called you his mother. He’d gotten upset with you a few times over it, and you assured him you would correct Rickon when it happened.

“Mummy.” He repeated. You giggled. pulling him into your lap. You shook your head and tapped his nose, saying, “Nooo. Not mummy.”

“Mummy.” He laughed, and you ran your fingers through his thick brown curls.

“What ever will we do with this mop on your head, my son?”

“He is not your son.” You turned to see Cregan standing in the door way. “And his hair is fine.”

“Apologies, my lord.” You said, curtly. He ignored your attitude.

“Come, Rickon.” He said, beckoning his son.

“No, mummy.” Rickon whined, holding you.

“Go see papa.” You told him, and with your blessing Rickon ran to Cregan.

Cregan gave you a cold stare as he left, and you returned the favor.

You were growing ever so agitated with your husband. He had welcomed you into Winterfell, but not his heart. The only time you both had shared a bed was the night of your wedding, to which Cregan had made sure not to give you an heir.

You had no one. Rickon had you, Cregan had you even if he did not want you, yet you were alone here in Winterfell.

You decided to write to your mother on Dragonstone, requesting for Jacaerys to pick you up on dragon back so you could visit your family and hopefully receive advice. You had left your dragon, Silverwing, at home. You did not want to disrespect the already hesitant northern people, and you did not want Silverwing to be cold or hungry.

That night when you were brushing your hair before bed, there was a knock on your door.

“Come in.” You looked in the mirror and saw Cregan’s half sister, Sara, enter.

“Hi, Sara.” You said. She came up behind you, taking the brush from your hand and slowly combing it through your hair. You two had formed a unique bond, given you were both considered outcasts in Winterfell. You were a southerner, she was a bastard. They were two sides of the same coin here in Winterfell.

“I heard what happened today.” She said, and you hummed mindlessly. “My brother can be a bastard.”

You smiled at her in the mirror. “Is that so?”

She nods. “I wish I knew what to do, Sara.”

“We northerners love hard, princess. We are unwaveringly loyal. The wound of losing Aly is still fresh in my brother’s heart. Give him time. He knows you love Rickon, and that scares him. I don’t know why.”

“Was Aly pretty?” You ask.

“You have a southern beauty we do not see often in the North. Aly was not a beautiful woman, but she was a fierce fighter. That is how history will remember her. She was born fighting, and she died fighting. I know you are a fierce fighter as well, princess. You are the blood of the dragon. Do not let the grief my brother holds make you feel small.” She kisses the back of your head. “Throw a fucking book at his head if he acts like that again.”

You laugh, her joke comforting you. She turns and leaves you alone, your head clouded with thoughts of Aly.

You heard back from Jacaerys within a few days that he would arrive shortly to bring you home. You had not yet told Cregan, as you knew he wouldn’t care anyway.

A few days following the letter from the raven, it was Sara’s name day. Cregan had decided to celebrate with a feast, one bigger than your wedding.

You all sat at the high table, your husband and sister in law drinking heavily. Although Cregan was a big man, the amount of ale he consumed that night seemed enough to kill a horse.

“My princess.” A servant rested her hand on your shoulder. You and Cregan both turned to look at her, and she grew nervous, not expecting Cregan to pay any attention or perhaps she would not have asked the princess the request. “Rickon has had a nightmare and wants no comfort of the maids. He is requesting you by name specifically, princess.”

You turn to look at Cregan for his approval. He gives a quick nod, which you hadn’t expected. Perhaps he only obliged since Rickon had requested you by your name, rather than requesting his “mother.”

You walked with the maid to his chambers, opening the door.

“Mummy.” He said through sniffles. You turned to face the maid.

“I thought he requested me by my name.” You said.

“That is your name, princess… to him.” The maid closed the door.

You turn to face Rickon with a gentle sigh. “You know papa doesn’t like that word.”

“Mummy.” He just says again. You walk to his bed, fitting yourself in to lay with him. He cuddles into your chest, and you play with his hair to help him sleep.

“Say it okay.” He says.

“Hm? What do you mean, child?” You ask.

“She say it okay to call you mummy.”

“Who?”

“Mummy did.”

“No, you have to call me my name, sweet boy.”

“Not you, mummy. My other mummy said it okay.”

“You confuse me, Rickon.”

“Mummy says ignore papa.” You chuckle softly.

“Sleep now, my love.” You say, and he slowly falls asleep while you hum him a soft song.

You rise, tucking him in and giving his head a kiss.

You open his door to return to the feast, and Cregan is there waiting.

You gasp, covering your mouth quickly to not wake Rickon.

“Gods, you scared me!” You whisper/yell at him. He says nothing, his eyes in a glossy and drunken haze.

You close the door, nearly standing chest to chest with him.

“I heard you sing to him.” He says softly. “Where did you learn that song?”

“He taught me it.” You say, as you go to step past him when he stops you.

“Cregan?” You say confused, turning to look up at him.

He takes your cheeks in your hands and slams his lips on yours. You freeze for a second in shock, before immediately returning the kiss. He presses you against the door, and you moan into him as you quickly grow wet with Cregan’s sudden change of behavior.

He moves to press gentle kisses on your neck, biting softly here and there. His fingers dig into your hips, grinding himself into you. You moan softly, trying not to cause too much noise against the door.

“Not here.” You moan. He avoids your eyes, taking your hand and pulling you further down the hall to his chambers. It was only your second time in his room. He lifted you into his strong arms, wrapping your legs around his waist and pressing you against the wall.

You both hadn’t even undressed, but you loved the thrill. Your husband finally wanted you after three long grueling months. He pushed your dress up to your waist as you unlaced his breeches.

He took you there against the wall of his chambers, fucking you so sweetly, fucking you in a way that would surely produce an heir.

Your moans filled the halls, and the servants began to spread word that the lord had finally moved on from his first wife.

He carried you to the bed, placing you along the edge as he stood, fucking you with sloppy and drunken thrusts.

You moaned his name, both of you drawing so close to your peak as your hands rested against his stomach. He leaned closed to you as hand moved beside your head to hold his weight, and the other moved under your lower back to lift you slightly off the bed and pull you more into him. The angle sent you over the edge, crying and moaning his name.

Your moans pushed him over, but his next words made you sick.

“Fuck, Alysanne.” He groaned, burying his head in your neck and spilling his seed into you.

You gasped, not even sure you heard him right.

He kissed your neck a few times and then rolled off you, not noticing the look on your face.

You laid there unmoving, still in your dress which was now damp with sweat, and your thighs now sticky with Cregan.

He fell asleep the second his head hit his pillow, still in his clothes.

You choked back a sob, moving your hand to your mouth so he wouldn’t waken. In reality, you could’ve started screaming and he wouldn’t have woke, or even shuffled.

You exited his chambers, trying not to be sick on the way to yours.

“My sister!” Sara drunkenly yelled as she seen you in the hallway. She took notice of your disheveled dress and hair. “Oh my gods, did you and Cregan just…?”

You ignored her, but she noticed the tears on your face. “Wait, sister what is wrong? What happened?”

You slammed the door in her face, throwing yourself into your pillow and screaming.

—

“Mother would be furious if she knew you were sleeping this well past sunrise.”

You groaned, lifting your head from the pillow to find the voice in the room.

“Jacaerys?” You said, when your eyes landed on him.

“I take it the feast for Sara Snow was a success.” He says, making fun of you. Your hair was sticking to your face, wet with a mixture of tears and drool.

“I guess you could say that.” You said, wiping your hair to the side.

“You’re disgusting.” He says.

“Gods, five minutes you’ve been here and you already frustrate me! Get out!” You say, both of you immediately teasing and arguing like you had never left home.

You push him out of your room.

“Don’t touch me, wench!” He whines, smacking your arms.

“Piss off! Go harass the bloody Lord of Winterfell.”

“I’d rather harass the Lady.” You push him out of your doors, turning and pressing your back to slide down the wall.

You hear him knock again and you rise to your feet, angry. “Jace, I said-“

You don’t finish your sentence, since as you open the door it’s Sara.

“I wanna talk about last night.”

“I don’t.” You say, going to close the door on her before she pushes it back open.

“What happened?” She asks, angry. She closes the door behind her and follows you to the bed. You sit on the edge and rest your elbows on your thighs, burying your face in your hands.

“Did my brother hurt you?” She asks, worried.

“No, no.”

She rests on her knees in front of you, placing her hands on your knees. “Tell me what happened.”

You sigh, trying to hold back your tears, but you cannot. “We had sex.”

“Isn’t that good? What went wrong?”

“He called me Alysanne.” You sob out.

“Oh, no.” She says, moving to sit beside you and wrap her arms around you.

“I cannot stay here no longer, Sara. I am being haunted by Alysanne. I find letters she wrote to Cregan, her clothes, her weapons. Rickon thinks I am her and Cregan wishes I was.”

“I am sorry, princess.” She says, sadly. “I thought I knew my brother better than that… Perhaps, if you talk to him about these past few months things can be different. Just give it a try, yes? You have your brother here now. You can leave if things do not work and the marriage can be annulled.”

You did not even wish to think of that possibility. It would be so shameful for both of your houses. You would do everything in your power to make it work.

You cleaned yourself up and went to Cregan’s chambers, knowing he would be hungover.

And you were right.

You entered his room without knocking, finding him in a bath with a warm rag over his eyes. Three times now you’ve been in his chambers.

“You can set it on the table.” He says, not moving the rag.

“What?”

“Oh.” He says, his voice changing in tone. “I thought you were the maid.”

You say nothing, unsure of where to even begin.

“Can whatever you’ve barged into my chambers for wait until I am done.” He asks, only the question is more of a statement.

“No.” You say, angry. You walk over to him and pull the rag off his eyes. He squints at the brightness, then gagging on the air as if he might be sick. “We’re going to talk, Cregan. We’ve been married for months and I don’t think we’ve ever truly had a conversation once. It is all I am asking. You could at least give me that. You’ve given me the cold shoulder for three months, and I’m tired of it. I’ve helped raise your son, I’ve loved you and I’ve cared for you even when you didn’t want it. You owe this to me.”

He sighs, defeated. “You are right in that, my princess. I apologize. We can talk later, alright?”

“No, Cregan. We will talk now.”

“You wouldn’t rather talk when I am of a clear headspace?”

“No. Now.” You say. He sighs again.

“Say your piece.”

The words left your mind the second he said that. You had this conversation in your head many times before, but now it was here and you could not handle the heat of the moment.

He raised his eyebrow at you, as if you were dumb.

“Oh, do not do that. I thought you Starks were supposed to be the most honorable among men. This whole marriage I have been treated with everything but. You are a disrespectful man, Stark. I am truly sorry about Alysanne-“

“Do not speak to me about my wife, ever!” He yells, pointing at you.

“I am your wife!” You cry out. “You chose me, whether you were ready for another marriage or not! I left my home, my family, my dragon to be with you! If I cannot have your love, is it too much to ask for your fucking respect?!”

He goes quiet for a few moments, “You have always had my respect, princess… and I know I have erred in the way I’ve treated you these past moons. But this marriage is just a duty. Nothing more, nothing less. This marriage is not out of love… so do not expect me to love you back.”

You laugh, dryly. “You called me Alysanne last night… Do you remember that? No… I suppose you were too drunk. You never would have touched or cared for me like that sober.”

He says nothing, but his hands grip the side of the tub and his face is contorted with anger. You rise, hiding any sort of emotion on your face.

“The dead don’t need lovers. Only the living.” You said. He threw his rag at the door as you walked out, not even granting him a second glance.

The memories of last night flooded back to him, and he rested his face in his hands, crying at his behavior. He had let down Aly, his son, and you.

He did care about you, he did love you in his own way. He just didn’t know how to show it. He didn’t want to show it. If he had shown it, he only would have betrayed Aly even more.

You went down to the crypt, somewhere you had never gone before. You had no reason originally, no people to mourn.

You stood in front of her plot, staring at the statue of her. She had been a skinny girl, with long dark hair and ‘plain’ features. You thought she was a beauty in her own way. You saw why Cregan loved her.

You cried. “I’m sorry I couldn’t help him.”

Your hand touched her statue, then you stood and left the crypt.

You said goodbye to Rickon, Sara, and then you left with your brother on dragon back, ready to be home with your true family.

———

“You’re a fucking fool, brother.”

“You think I don’t know that? Gods.” Cregan rested his head in his hands. He had sent every raven in Winterfell to Dragonstone, yet not one had responded in the weeks since you’d left.

“We’ll be lucky if the bloody queen doesn’t declare war on us for you scorning her daughter.”

“I am trying here, Sara! I’ve sent my ravens, I’ve sent men to retrieve her. There is nothing more I can do!”

Sara slammed her hands on the table. “Go and get her your bloody self, Cregan. The trip to Dragonstone will give you plenty of time for reflection.”

Sara turned to leave, and Cregan knew it was his only option of getting you back here. He would go and get you and make things right. He had to.

You had your own time for reflection, riding home with Jacaerys made you realize how much you missed being on dragon back.

Your mother of course welcomed you with open arms, but was wracked with guilt that you and Cregan’s union was not working. You paid it no mind however, spending your days patrolling Dragonstone on Silverwing.

Cregan had taken his horse and a few men to retrieve you from Dragonstone. The trip by horse was long, more than several weeks.

The entire time he rode in silence he thought of you. He thought of your last conversation and the final words you had said to him. The dead don’t need lovers. And you were right. Alysanne would not have wished to see him treat you how he had, she would not have wanted Cregan to spend his time sulking or being angry. He only wished he had realized it before he left.

He loved you. If only it hadn’t taken you leaving for him to realize. You were kind, gentle, beautiful. Traits Alysanne didn’t have but it was what seperated you from her. It had been how he was able to find his own kind of love for you, even when he didn’t consciously realize it yet. His own bitterness from losing Aly had made forget his honor.

Cregan arrived about two moons after you had left. He was aching, frustrated, and desperate by the time he reached Dragonstone.

It was dark, pouring rain, and you were playing with your brothers Viserys and Aegon when he arrived.

“Your Grace!” A knight came into the room shouting. Your mother looked up from her book. “Cregan Stark of Winterfell has arrived and requests an immediate audience with you and the princess.”

Your mother looked at you, and you looked like you’d seen a ghost. Your heart sank and your face went pale, but you nodded.

You met him inside the council chambers with your mother and his men. He was soaked, shivering. You could hear your heart beating in your ears, that was how nervous you were.

“Cregan.” You said, walking towards him and pushing him by his arms to the hearth to warm him up. It was another thing he loved about you, your protective nature, so he said it.

“I love you.”

“Cregan…”

“Love her?” You both looked at your mother, whose face was angry. “You love my daughter?”

“Your Grace.” Cregan said, removing his sword and bending his knee. “I’ve come to beg your forgiveness.”

She walked towards you both. “It is not mine you need to beg for… I sent my only daughter to you, and you spurn her for your dead wife?!”

“Mother!”

“You will not interrupt the Queen when she is speaking.” She commands you. “What do you have to say for yourself, Lord Stark?”

He stands. “I have nothing to say, Your Grace. You are right. My behavior was unacceptable. The princess deserved none of it.”

“Why are you here?” Your mother asks him.

“I’ve come to ask the princess to return home.” Your mother scoffs at him.

She looks at you, then back to him. “You are lucky it is not my decision to make.”

She turns and exits, leaving and commanding his men to wait outside the doors so you both could be alone.

You were even more nervous with just the two of you in there. It is silent for a few moments before you speak.

“Why the sudden change of heart?” You ask Cregan.

“It took you leaving for me to realize I love you.” He says, taking your hands in his. You roll your eyes, taking your hands back and stepping away.

“I can’t believe you.” You say, starting to sob.

“I know, I know.” He steps closer to you again, taking you in his arms as you cry into his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“I loved you, Cregan.” You say, crying. “Since I was a girl I loved you. I thought you were different from other men. But, you’re just like the rest.”

Cregan cries into your hair. “I’m so sorry, my princess. I’m so, so sorry.”

You both stand there, holding each other and crying.

“Please come home.” He says. “Let me take you home.”

“Rickon misses his mother, Sara misses her sister… I miss you, you my wife.”

You pull away to look at him, trying to read his normally stoic features. You can see he means it.

“Okay.”

———

You returned to Winterfell on Silverwing, no longer having the strength to remain apart from your dragon.

Cregan had to endure another long and grueling trip back to Winterfell, which you enjoyed knowing he was suffering while you road through the skies.

Rickon had cried tears of joy when you returned, and a week later when Cregan arrived Rickon cried again.

You and Cregan had remained in seperated chambers while you still navigated your marriage, but Cregan made a point to spend every moment of his free time with you.

But you had been keeping a secret from him.

After you returned home to Dragonstone originally, your blood never arrived. The maester determined you were with a babe, which would arrive several moons away in the dead of winter.

Your thick furs and dresses made it easier to hide from Cregan, as you were not ready to tell him.

The babe had complicated things. If you had not been pregnant, you might not have returned to Winterfell when Cregan came for you. But you knew you had a duty, and you believed if Cregan could love you then you could fix your union.

Cregan had indeed put the work in the second he arrived home. He attended to you, conversed with you, ate with you, laughed with you, but gave you the space you needed and gave you the option to be intimate with him when you were ready.

It was strangely like falling in love all over again. You blushed around each other, got nervous and flushed, made each other’s hearts race, shared a first kiss when you were both ready.

Cregan had undoubtedly fallen madly in love with you, and he regretted not taking the time to do it sooner. He couldn’t make up the time he lost being afraid. All he could do now was love you without guilt, love you without fear, love you without shame.

Normally Cregan always knocked on your chamber doors before entering, but for some reason this time he hadn’t. He didn’t know why he didn’t knock, he didn’t know if it happened unconsciously or if he was too busy wrapped up with his thoughts.

Either way, he entered without knocking and by that point the cat was out of the bag.

He said your name, greeting you with a smile, only for it to fall off his face as if it had never been there.

You were in the bath, relaxing in the burning water, but that wasn’t the problem. He’d seen you naked, although it hadn’t been for a few months by this point, but him accidentally invading your privacy wasn’t the problem either.

It was the bump in your belly that was a problem.

Your head turned sharply, covering your chest quickly. “Cregan!”

“Sorry.” He said quickly, turning around to avoid disrespecting you.

“It’s fine.” You said, dropping your arm from your chest. “You just gave me a fright.”

He said nothing for a moment, only continuing to face the wall.

“What is that?” He finally asked. You sighed, stepping out of the tub and into your robe.

You walked up behind him, resting a hand on his shoulder. He turned around to face you now, and his eyes fell down to your other hand resting on the small bump in your stomach.

“Perhaps it’s time we talk.”

“You think?” He spits at you, immediately apologizing after. “I’m sorry, princess. I didn’t mean to be cross with you.”

You said nothing, walking over to the seats by the hearth hoping he would follow.

He did, and he sat next to you, his eyes never leaving your belly.

“Can I?” He asked, gesturing to your stomach. You nodded, untying your robe so that you were bare. You grabbed his hand, bringing it to the small bump.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I could have accommodated for you, made sure you were comfortable.”

“Truth be told it’s been hard for me to accept I’m truly with a child.” You say, “The reality had not set in until… well until you just now found out... I am sorry, Cregan. I should not have kept it from you.”

He chokes back a sob. “Feels like just yesterday Alysanne had Rickon.”

“He will be overjoyed to know he will have a little brother or sister.” You tell him. He looks at you, his face full of emotion.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks and before you can even finish nodding your head, you’re already leaning in to kiss him.

“I love you. I love you so much, my wife.” He says in between kisses.

His hand did not move once from your stomach the whole night.

[stsgooo]

Look at Him.

✩࿐ summary: your attempts at reentering the dating scene is foiled by your ex-husband.

warning(s): past relationship, clingy!gojo, ex-husband!gojo, co-parenting situation, crack fic. wc; 1.6k

pairing(s): gojo satoru x fem!reader

a/n: this is purely just a goof fic because i've put nothing but angst out there so far sooo have a laugh. hope yall enjoy :3

“So, what do you do for a living?”

"A teacher."

"Oh, wow! What grade, subject?"

"Uh, highschoolers and the subject kinda varies on the day."

"Like a substitute teacher?"

"Um....sure, yeah! Substitute teacher."

"That's awesome. Mad respect, kids can be demons."

You were quickly discovering that the dating field had changed in the five years that you had been married. An endless back and forth about what someone did, what's their favorite color, what's their hobbies. Boring questions that you would ask your students on the first day was used in over the table date conversation. Until, until, they got to that question they so desperately wanted to ask.

Would you want to take this back to my—

There was a vibration against your thigh as your date started to go onto a monologue about how much he disliked kids. In all honesty, you couldn't really remember his name. The introductions had been awkward and a little nerve wracking— you were almost sure he had no idea who you were either.

You tugged your phone out of your pocket and resisted the audible sigh that threatened to leave you when you saw the notification.

Satoru please tell me why my beautiful, radiant, amazing, intelligent daughter just said her mommy is on a date. feeling sick to my stomach, don't tell me this is true.

You rolled your eyes. Your ex-husband had always been so overdramatic. His main focus was always on the bit that could come from a situation. However, this was a quality you do used to admire about him. His ability to make any situation seem like it was a funny happenstance that you'd never encounter again.

Now, it was nothing more than a nuisance.

Satoru oh my god, you left me on read. it's true. it's true. i hope you know i just threw up. i threw up everywhere. i might die. at least, tell me he's ugly. please god let him to be ugly.

A sigh, you typed out the quickest message you could without your date asking what's wrong.

You I hope you're not ignoring said daughter to ask me about some date. I'll be home later, please refrain from texting me.

You were about to set your phone down when another text came through. This one appeared to more distraught than the last.

Satoru o h your tone. it's over. it's really over. i might just kill myself this is the worst night of my life. y/n, i'm genuinely feeling sick. please, is he ugly? he must be boring because you're texting back.

You were almost inclined to remind Satoru you both had been divorced for a year already. That this was bound to happen and you two had, in fact, spoken about it months into the divorce. You had played with some 'what if's and there was a mutual agreement that the other wouldn't get jealous and be dramatic about the other getting in a relationship whenever the time comes. It was a surprisingly adult conversation.

You should've known better when Satoru proudly proclaimed he didn't care who you got involved with.

You Satoru, we talked about this. We're adults and we're divorced. Please bother someone else, like Suguru.

Satoru i don't wanna talk to suguru. i wanna talk to youuu (;﹏;) i can't believe you've done this. ten years. ten years of loyalty. im sick to my stomach.

You You asked for the divorce.

"Is everything okay?"

You eyes snapped up from your phone and towards your date. He had the good grace to be wearing a relatively concerned expression, eyeing you wearily.

You quickly tucked your phone back into your pocket, ignoring the insistent vibrations it gave to smile apologetically. "I'm sorry, my daughter had an accident and I had to, you know, send a quick text to her babysitter." It was easier to explain away a daughter than it was a clingy ex-husband who was well in his dissent into insanity. Really, you were doing this guy a favor keeping him in the dark.

However, his face still paled and he straightened. "You have a kidI'm so, so sorry. I just went on a two minute rant about how much kids are equivalent to demons." He seemed to spiral as he pressed his hands against his face, uttering curses to himself. "I get so nervous with these dates. I truly meant nothing by it."

You smiled in amusement, "It's no problem, really. I'm not exactly disagreeing." He peeked from between his fingers and blinked at you dumbly. "Just because I'm a parent doesn't mean I don't agree. I mean, my kid can be a bit much sometimes. I love her, but she's a lot like her dad in that way."

It always made your chest blossom. The way Saori was a carbon copy of Satoru. From the rambunctious personality, to the piercing blue eyes, and white hair. Your genes hadn't won in the battle, but you were almost grateful. Satoru tried to tell you that she had your smile and your wit, but you weren't entirely convinced. She was Satoru and Satoru was her.

You were extremely lucky that he was a good dad.

"Oh? Do you mind me asking if her dad's still around?" His tone was indication enough: a daughter and an ex of some kind was pushing it for him.

You tensed up, feeling deep regret already. "Uh, yeah." His eyes shifted away and you reached forward, taking his hand. "But, he's not, like, crazy or anything! He's just a good dad."

Your date chuckled nervously. "I-I just don't want to get involved in some, um, some family dynamic."

You thought it was a little presumptuous of him to think this would go that far, or he'd get in the way. But you were too focused on defusing the situation.

"Oh, no, it's not like that! We've got a healthy balance, y'know? He does his piece, I do mine— that's it!"

He scrunched his face. "So... an open relationship?"

"No!" You press your hands against your face with a huff. "No, we're not together anymore. We just co-parent."

He opened his mouth to further question you when your phone vibrated very audibly. His eyebrows raising. "Your daughter?"

You sighed. "Please give me one moment."

With jerky movements, you pull your phone from your pocket. The assortment of messages that came where spread over the ten minutes you decided to ignore him.

Satoru okay, you've got me there. but my big heart is breaking. i hope he's ugly and he smells. okay, i spoke with suguru and he said i'm an idiot who should apologize. in my defense, i'm a little itty bitty drunk. and no, saori is not awake. papa put her to bed before bringing out the whiskey. im so sorry my beautiful deity. that not ugly, not smelly man is so lucky to be in your presence and i hope you have a good date. also i hope he gets hit my a car. (＾▽＾)

You I'm going to kill you with my bare hands. Genuinely, count your days, Gojo Satoru.

Satoru hot, hot, hot!!! (●´□`)♡ did he actually get hit by a car?

You Is there something you want?

Satoru him dead. and you home :((((

You You don't want me home. I swear to god, if you're on my couch, drinking when I get home, I will ruin your life.

Satoru promise??? ╰(✿´⌣`✿)╯♡ but, actually, i wanted to ask your opinion on something

You For real?

Satoru for realsies. [Image Attachment]

Completely blinded by your irritation, you don't even hesitate to open the picture as it loads. Although you regret it the moment it does.

It's a picture of Satoru. He's at what seems to be the beach (must've been the fun activity him and Saori were going to join Suguru for), his sunglasses were on the top of his head, and he was grinning at the picture. One hand was resting against his pectoral and the veins in his hand was prominent. An obvious attempt at being charming and flirtatious. It was working too.

If it weren't for the fact that you knew him and were his ex, you might've just swooned.

"Oh, my god, is that him?" Your date was staring at your phone with wide eyes. His face even more pale than before. He started to shake his head as he stood, snatching his jacket from the back of his chair. "No way. I am not getting involved! I'm sorry, you're a nice woman, but I know when I'm not winning. And I'm definitely not winning against that."

Your eyes widened considerably, "What? No! Please don't leave. He's an idiot, I swear there's nothing—"

"He is... a hunk. I am not. In no shape or form am I at all comparable to that. Look—" He reached forward, grabbing your phone and holding the picture up to be beside his face. "Look at the difference! Model who has won Japan's hottest man at least eight times before he's 30 to me— Look at him!"

"It's not even like that!" You snatched your phone back and stared at him in frustration. "He's my ex, I do not want him!"

He waved his hands in front of your face. "I know how this will go. You think you like me and then your super hot and super sexy ex-whatever makes you realize the familiarity is good. Then I get dumped." He straightened, latching his hands onto the lapels of his jacket. "I just realized I am a side character. In my own life. Goddammit."

He barely glanced at you as he paid for the dinner, then left as quickly as he could. Still, you didn't even know his name.

Satoru oooo taking you awhile to respondddd still in love with me? (人◕ω◕)

[landograndprix]

╰┈➤ ❝ desire • l.n c.l ❞ xi

part ten - part twelve

➪ Charles hasn't paid much attention to you after your daughter was born but a certain Brit does.

➪ charles finally realizes things between you and lando are in fact serious.

➪ mom!reader x dad!Charles x lando

➪ sorry this took so long :') charles needs professional help <3

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milliexoxo

liked by y/nusername, logansargeant and 5,784 others

milliexoxo okay but my mom speaks italian

tagged: landonorris, y/nusername, carlossainz55

view all 583 comments

norrizz NAH MISS ZOE LECLERC SIT DOWN IM NOT READY FOR YOU TO STAND

↳ yukisan HONESTLY WHATS NEXT WALKING?!

bott_ass HAVE Y'ALL NOT SEEN MILS LATEST VLOG SHE DOES WALK ALREADY

norrizz NAH SEDATE ME IM NOT READY FOR THIS

norry4 Y'ALL FORGOT ITS HER 1ST BIRTHDAY IN LIKE 2 WEEKS?!

landoscar look at mom and dad :(

julieeeexo refuse to believe that's zoë, why is she growing so fast?!

carlandooo carlos and zoë?! 🥺

↳ sharl16 charles punching air rn 😂

charliecharlie aw I'm becoming the biggest y/nlando shipper 😩

logansargeant love the new haircut. 🔥

↳ hamilt44n asjklmsks arianna what are you doing here?!

grussell63 @.y/nusername help your kid out 😭

landonorizzzz pls @.y/nusername adopt logan as well 😭

landofourr wait is this considered a y/nlando hard launch?

↳ chilisainz girl they don't need a hard launch, it's so obvious with everything they do 💀

versainz155 carlos casually hanging out with lando and his little family is what I'm living for <3

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername posted to their story

charles_leclerc replied to your story

charles_leclerc

Where's zoë?

y/nusername

with millie

charles_leclerc

What hotel are you staying in?

y/nusername

we rented a place, zoë is not stuck in a hotel room if that's what you're hinting at, she's able to crawl and walk around all she want.

charles_leclerc

You go on a lot of dates with lando and leave zoë with someone else

y/nusername

you're joking, right?

you're becoming a real asshole, Charles

get a grip

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by landonorris, maxfewtrell and 768,523 others

y/nusername quando in Italia 🧀 🍝 (when in italy)

tagged: landonorris, milliexoxo

view all 1,176 comments

norry4 not the bucket hat, my girl has been hanging around with lando to much 😩

milliexoxo I told y'all my mom speaks Italian

↳ charlesgirlies your 'mom' speaks Italian because her baby daddy is half italian

oscarpastry charles is not half Italian 💀

charlesgirlies girl, he is in spirit lmao

bobnorriz lando and zoë content y'all 🥰

norstappen not really sure if I like the fact zoë is walking but okay..rude :(

el645 when are you going to admit you cheated on charles?

↳ hamilt44n oh god the stalker made its way to insta 💀

yukisan when is charles going to admit he cheated on y/n?

el645 aren't yall curious why they broke up?

charlescharles dude we don't need to know why they broke up? 🤡

landonorris been cooking with my best friend 💜

↳ hamiltonh SHUT UP 😭😭 😭

milliexoxo close to turning a year and still a better cook than you

bott_ass girl you're never going to get along with your stepdad if you keep bullying him like this

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

📍 Nice, France

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 675,458 others

y/nusername a year ago the tiniest little girl changed my life for the better, happy 1st birthday to our silly little bear ❤️❤️❤️❤️

view all 1,425 comments

bott_ass happy birthday zoë!

maxfewtrell happy 1st birthday to my best friend ❤️

riabish happy birthday pretty girl! 💜💜

logansargeant happy 1st birthday zoë!

↳ hamilt44n I love this, I hope y/n adopted Logan 🥺

milliexoxo my silly little girlfriend, hope you have the happiest of birthdays! <3

carlossainz55 happy birthday to the funniest girl ❤️

norrizz this girlie is so loved 😭 happy b-day little princess! 😍

el645 funny for someone who didn't want a kid in the first place

↳ chilisainz Noelle get your ass out of here

norry4 man's must be blind, this woman LOVES her daughter

lando happy birthday to our little bear 🐻

↳ y/nusername ❤️❤️

landonorris ❤️❤️

yukisan everyday I come on this app and cry :(

charles16 Monaco gp week? Nah, it's been Zo�� her week ❤️

➽────────────────────────❥

➽────────────────────────❥

y/nusername

liked by milliexoxo, maxfewtrell and 698,452 others

y/nusername the bestest company. <3

tagged: milliexoxo, logansargeant, landonorris, liamlawson30

yukisan Logan had been officially adopted 😭

↳ grussell63 and Liam & his girlfriend?! 😭

lewisham Liam and y/n gave little brother big sister vibes back when Liam took dr3 his seat for a while, I'm not surprised!

norrizz I don't think y'all realize y/n started socialising way more after she left charles, I wonder with who she's hanging out with 👀

landoscar lando and oscar content thank you queen!!!!

norry4 mom and dad with their kids <3

chilisainz wonder where the die hard y/ncharles shippers are right now..

↳ yukisan probably still skipping around in delululand

mcnorris lads, she's still dating charles, lando and y/n are just friends...duh 🤪

yukisan if that's what it's like to have lando as just a friend, can I have him as a friend as well 😭

lawsonbaby LIAM?! CANT WAIT TO SEE THE VLOG

carlando they're insta official 🥺

maxfewtrell cute but where am I?

↳ milliexoxo this post is meant for the cute people..

landonorris and yet you're in it..

milliexoxo 😲

y/nusername contrary to popular beliefs, I'm actually nice and didn't want to turn you into another meme

maxfewtrell I appreciate that, thanks mate ❤️

nortrell MATE?! Best buds these two 😭

➽────────────────────────❥

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Desire taglist; @fangirl-dot-cm @sainzluvrr @writingworlds @chezmardybum @lewisvinga @xjval @fanficweasley @rockyhayzkid @aundercover @thecubanator2 @minchedchilli @crimeshowjunkie @alisoncasey21 @eeviepepi08 @shamelesspotatos @sleepybrokenmelle @leireggsworld @janeholt3 @iamahalicinationn @dessxoxsworld @kapsylia @22yuki @dark-night-sky-99 @sheslikeacurse @nerdreader

Everything taglist; @thomaslefteyebrow @hopefulinlove @smoothopz @softboystarkey @honethatty12 @cixrosie @parkersmjs @ireadthensuetheauthors @celestialams @be-your-coffee-pot @heli991113 @kodzuvk @reality-is-a-con @80sloverry @bibissparkles @myescapefromthislife @lanando4 @elliegrey2803 @ravisinghs-wife @harrysdimple05 @minkyungseokie @pretty-little-bunny382728 @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @severewobblerlightdragon @cherry-piee @namgification @mycenterfold @devineendevers @celestialend

Lando taglist: @beatricemiruna @simp-for-fictional-people @landossainz @christianpulisic10 @bored-brunette2 @i83andrew @mcmuppet @justdreamersdream

[emotionaldamages]

heartbeat- oscar piastri

summary- oscar is dating a actor, who happens to be sebastian's daughter

pairings- oscar piastri x actor!reader

authors note- hi guysss, so sorry for the lag I’ve been a little bit busy, hope you enjoy😊

y/nvettel

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc, and 5, 232,873

y/nvettel supporting the children I guess

view all comments

username why is charles giggle like that

username how cute

username I need a supportive partner

landonorris the photo was unnecessary

charles_leclerc you looked funny

username I wanna go to an f1 race so bad

username oh to have money

username I can't wait to meet her!

username I need some more behind the scenes content

username a red carpet look now.

username I need money for this

username devoured

oscarpiastri ❤

y/nvettel has posted a story!

replies

landonorris that’s so fake

oscarpiastri babee what the heck

georgerussell55 good choice 👍

y/nvettel

liked by lilyhme, oscarpiastri, and 7, 837,626

y/nvettel winter break🫶🏼☃️ my heart beats for yall

tagged oscarpiastri , landonorris, alex_albon, lilyhme

view comments

username how cuteee

username I want what they have

username we need a lily and y/n adventure

y/nvettel soon🫡

landonorris I hate couples.

lilyhme we already said we would help you find a gf🙄

oscarpiastri the entire trip was lily stealing you from me

lilyhme deal with it

alex_albon story of our life’s man

username I need friends

username you take my breath away

username how is she so fine?

y/nvettel

liked by landonorris, alex_albon, and 6, 837,9364

y/nvettel we outside☃️

view comments

username oh he fine fine

username cutest daughter and father

username is your dad single?

username she ate that up tbh

lilyhme where was my invite😔

alex_albon I hope you fell

username alex is being aggressive

y/nvettel

liked by jonathandavis, lilyhme, and 5,897,759

y/nvettel just trying to sleep but this makes my heartbeat with excitement

view comments

username I’m so ready for season four to be filmed

username I need them to film faster

username she said 🧍🏽‍♀️ laying down

landonorris sucks not sleeping doesn’t it

jeremy7offical you can sleep in my bed

landonorris yea no

username y’all see that….

username we love lando defending oscar and her

username someone get him out of here

username oh wow.

username on the internet he says that?!?

y/nvettel

liked by sebastianvettel, oscarpiastri, and 8,836,827

y/nvettel awards in awards

view comments

oscarpiastri love of my life

username he’s so cute with her 😔

username she’s gorgeoussss

username she ate up all those outfits

username mother

username have my children

lilyhme literally my wife

sebastianvettel very proud of you🩷

username daddy issues are rising after that

jeremy7official let’s celebrate😉

username someone get that man out of here

username he’s a little too bold

username what.

username where’s oscar when you need him

oscarpiastri

oscarpiastri we sleep and celebrate together. I make her heartbeat😉

view comments

landonorris you tell him oscar

username lando is me asf

username ate that up oscar

username he said been there done that

username we love it

mclaren he doesn’t stand a chance

username now why is mclaren involved

y/nvettel 🥰

username ate him up

username cutest couple

username mother and father

[seventeenpins]

⁵⁾ pressing the pads of their fingers into their lips in the aftermath, like they’re either trying to capture the feeling or banish it from memory

with x1!Logan pretty plssssss 😏

YES Ozzie omg thank you I love this ❤️

Forbidden Fruit

pairing: dbf!Logan x neighbor!reader word count: 3.4k summary: You’re a little obsessed with your attractive new neighbor. Unfortunately, he’s quite a bit older than you... And your dad's new best friend. content/warnings: non-mutant AU, unspecified age gap, written as x1 Logan, Scott is your dad (sorry), silence of the lambs spoilers???, yearning, tbh yall are as bad as each other, smut a/n: lmao this was supposed to be a drabble 🤷 ty to @ozarkthedog, the most perfect human 🩷

There’s a party roaring outside. As a general rule, your dad doesn’t like to throw parties often, but when he meets the man who’s moving in next door, he announces to you his plan. “Hosting a new neighbor helps to establish a good relationship!” he insists, and that’s that.

You’re sat in the living room, the space dimly lit, nursing a Pabst Blue Ribbon as the glow of your latest Blockbuster rental illuminates your face.

"You even old enough to drink?" comes a voice just outside the door frame. 

You jump, beer sloshing gracelessly down your front. You turn to him, glowering. He’s silhouetted from the hallway and you can’t make out his face. “Yep,” you tell him, “I just have an immaculate skincare routine. Keeps me youthful.”

“So you’re hiding inside… because?”

You shrug. “Just like time to myself.”

He nods, and then strides over. He takes a seat beside you.

“Who are you, exactly?” you frown, looking him up and down.

“You mind?” he asks, smirking as he wiggles the beer you didn’t realize he was holding and nods towards the bottle opener. The audacity.

You glare and grab the bottle opener. He holds his hand out for it, but you withdraw. 

“Logan,” he laughs, “Logan Howlett. I just moved in next door.”

“Oh,” you drop the bottle opener into his hand, remembering your dad’s words. Establish a good relationship. “Oh, yeah, my dad was really excited about the party. Hope you’re enjoying it.”

His eyebrows raise. “Your dad?”

“Yeah,” you nod, “Scott Summers.”

“No shit,” he frowns, “That guy sends a lot of emails.”

“That he does.”

Logan pops his bottle open. “Mind some company?”

“Long as you don’t mind watching Silence of the Lambs starting part way through.”

“Ohhhhh yeah, has he asked for a quid pro quo yet?”

“Aahh, a connoisseur,” you grin, “Yeah, just got past that part. I can rewind–”

“Nah,” he shrugs, “Let it play.”

You watch for a while in silence, but then start chatting again, swapping mundane questions. 

“So, Scott’s your dad, huh?” he asks, after a while.

“He sure is.”

“When he said he had a daughter, I guess I assumed someone younger.”

“Same skincare routine,” you deadpan.

He closes his eyes, holding back a laugh as he shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry. It’s none of my business.”

“It’s okay,” you laugh, “Yeah, he was still pretty young when I was born.”

“And what about…” he trails off, suddenly realizing tact may be appreciated.

“Dad’s a widower,” you explain simply.

Logan nods. “I’m sorry to hear that.”

You sit in silence for a moment, watching as Lecter is revealed to be wearing the guard’s face.

“How about you?” you ask, “You got a wife? Husband? Girlfriend? Partner?--”

He turns to look at you and you peter off. “Nope.” 

There’s something in the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure if he’s being suggestive, or if you’re reading into things. Maybe it’s just the reflecting light making his eyes look more provocative than he intends.

Either way, you feel your heartbeat surge and your stomach flip.

You turn away and try to affect nonchalance, try not to be suddenly mesmerized by this unexpected plot twist that is Logan. The movie is wrapping up, Clarice taking Lecter’s call as he pursues Chilton. You try to focus on it, the score, the costumes– but instead you notice the way he smells, musky and a little sweaty. It’s nice. A little dizzying.

“What about you?” you ask.

“Hmm?”

"You have any kids?" you ask, and immediately wonder if you waited too long to carry on the conversation.

"Shit," he snorts and shakes his head, "I hope not."

It takes you off guard. You burst out laughing.

He huffs, lifting the beer to his lips to hide a smile.

The credits begin to roll over the ending scene. 

With the bottle drained, he pats his thighs and stands up. "Alright, kid," he says, "I probably shouldn’t hide in here any longer.”

“My dad appreciates it,” you tell him, “Don’t wanna give him a heart attack when his guest of honor is nowhere to be found, soon to be discovered with his delinquent daughter.”

He picks up his empty and shakes his head, heading back outside. He calls back, “Oh, you’re trouble.”

Now that you’ve met him, you can’t get him out of your mind. 

When you see him again, a couple days later in daylight this time, you have to pick your jaw up off the ground. He’s taller than you realize, and he’s fucking built. And fuck, he’s handsome too. When he sees you, he waves a hand. “Hey Trouble,” he calls, “Keepin’ your nose clean?”

Weeks pass, and, much to your delight (and, admittedly, despair), your dad and Logan become close. 

Sundays become your favorite day. Sunday, you discover, is the day you can see Logan through your window, chopping a seemingly endless stack of firewood. 

One time, he catches you watching. To your utter shock, he winks at you. Knowing your eyes are on him, he lifts the hem of his beater to wipe his brow, and shoots you a shit-eating grin.

You had plans but that doesn’t matter now. All you can do is shove your hand into your panties and rub circles around your throbbing little clit until you cum with a muffled sigh, knowing he’s outside. Knowing there’s not more than a fence and a few feet between you.

Almost every night, his fire pit is alight and you see him reading, or strumming his guitar, or fucking whittling, serene in the smouldering glow, till the fire burns out and the night turns too cool to enjoy.

As the weeks pass, he’s at your house more and more. You wish your heart would stop doing flips whenever you see him on the sofa next to your dad, beer in hand, laughing at some story that’s being recounted.

He says hello to you each time he sees you, and always asks after you when you’re out.

“Oh, Logan says hi,” your dad will say over his morning toast, “Why does he call you Trouble? Tell me you haven’t been besmirching the Summers name?”

“Nah,” you grin, “Just the littlest besmirchment, at worst.”

His eyes narrow.

“C’mon, now, we want to-”

“Establish a good relationship!” you finish, grinning at the way he scowls.

“Smartass.”

“Hey, Trouble,” he’ll greet you, whenever you find him at your home.

“Hey neighbor.”

“You bein’ good?” he’ll ask.

“‘Course not,” you’ll wink, “Where’s the fun in that?”

You love that he calls you Trouble. That he has a name, just for you. It feels like it could almost be something, and so it’s almost enough. 

Before long, what you’d once feared was a one-sided attraction begins to morph into something different. 

It’s a Saturday, and you decide to wear a cute little dress. It’s a flowy thing that hugs all your curves in the very best way, hem barely falling past the curve of your ass.

Your dad just popped out for another six-pack, and you’re in the kitchen, making pasta salad. With your father gone, Logan isn’t subtle in the way he looks at you. You delight in how his eyes linger at the curve of your hip, the swell of your chest. It feels like a victory, the way he grits his jaw a little when you lean forward, cleavage on full display.

“What’s a pretty thing like you doin’ wearing a naughty little dress like that?” Logan asks, scowling.

You raise an eyebrow and try not to let the way your heart starts to flutter affect you. “Thought you’d figured it out on day one – I’m trouble.”

He looks you up and down, his gaze lascivious. It’s the boldness of it. The two of you are alone, and you both know it.

“I think you like it,” you narrow your eyes.

He’s silent for a long moment. Then he lets out a deep breath. 

“God help me, I do.”

“Why don’t you do something about it?”

He opens his mouth to respond, but then you both hear the latch, and the front door swings open.

Logan sits back, pretending as though nothing just happened.

You turn back to your salad.

You can see Logan in the sitting room, right in your line of sight. Your dad sits across from him, his back towards you. 

If you’re honest, you’re not sure exactly what compels you. 

You turn to face Logan, wave for him to catch your eye. He does, quickly, immediately attuned to you. Your dad doesn’t notice the way his eyes follow you. You hold a finger to your lips. His eyes dart between you and your dad, and he tries to focus on whatever his friend is saying to him. 

Slowly, you slip one strap down, and then the other. You can hear Logan’s breath hitch, which he covers almost believably with a gulp of his beer. Shimmying the bodice just a little, you expose your cleavage to near-dangerous depths. He’s grinding his teeth now, and it feels like victory.

Quickly, silently, you slip your top all the way down, exposing your breasts to the cool kitchen air. Your nipples, already hard, tighten. Logan is holding his can so tightly he’s crushing it in his fist. 

“You okay, buddy?” you hear your dad say, and you can practically hear the frown in his voice. In a couple of quick movements, you slip your top back up and turn back to your salad.

“Huh?” Logan asks quickly, and then looks at his beer. “Oh, shit–!” he grumbles, relaxing his grip gingerly.

It’s not till an hour later that your dad stands up and announces, “I’ll be right back, gonna hit the head.”

When he’s gone, Logan bolts up and marches over to you.

“Are you out of your damn mind?” he demands.

You shrug and, not so subtly, glance down at his crotch. You smirk at the way the front is tenting. Logan stares daggers as he adjusts himself, better hiding his hard-on.

“Some of you seems to like it,” you point out.

“Out here? With him here? You want your daddy to kill me?”

“No,” you promise, “No, I just want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus Christ you’re trouble–”

You both hear a toilet flush, and, moments later, footsteps descend on the stairs.

Logan adjusts himself again, and you blow him a kiss as he tromps back to his seat.

It’s a week before you see Logan again. He’s working late this week, apparently. Or maybe he’s just keeping his distance from you.

On Friday night, you debate going out. It’s been a while, and you could use a chance to unwind. But drinks are expensive, and– and you see a fire out your window. Logan sits out by his fire pit.

Without thinking, you put on your shoes.

It’s late, but not too late. Your dad’s on his recliner, game on TV, newspaper in hand.

“You headin’ out, kiddo?” he asks.

“Yep,” you lie, “Meeting a couple friends downtown. They’re picking me up!”

“Stay safe,” he calls after you, “Call me if you need a ride.”

“I will,” you tell him. “Don’t know if I’ll be home tonight. Don’t wait up for me!”

You head out of the house and through your neighbor’s gate. 

Logan is golden, illuminated in the glow of the flames. He’s whittling something, angrily.

You realize then that your entrance has been near-silent on the soft grass. “Uh,” you clear you throat and knock on his fence as you approach him. “Hey, there, neighbor!”

Logan looks up and frowns when he sees you.

“You are makin’ me crazy, Trouble.” he huffs.

“Like, in a good way?” you ask.

He glares at you.

You come closer. “Can I sit?”

Logan budges up, putting down his whittling tools.

“So…” you venture “Am I more trouble than I’m worth?”

Logan scoffs.

“Nah.” he concedes, “I just don’t wanna make things complicated.”

You shrug. “They’re already complicated. You’ve seen my tits.”

He huffs out a laugh. “Goddammit, Trouble. I can’t get you out of my head.”

“They’re great tits,” you shrug.

“They are great tits.” Logan agrees.

The fire is crackling and the night is clear, stars hanging above you. You've been sitting side by side, quiet.

You don’t know what to say. Maybe there isn't anything to say. You’ve been patient, dammit. You just need to leap.

You pull him towards you and he moves without resistance.

He growls into your mouth, a needy animal sound. The scruff of his beard feels nice against your chin and you’re dizzy with his proximity, with his lips on yours.

After an eternity in the space of a single moment, you pull apart.

Logan stares at you, overwhelmed. His eyes are dark, his kiss-glistened lips catching the light as the fire dances. 

He presses the pads of his fingertips against his lips in the aftermath, as though either trying to capture the feeling, or banish it from memory.

Then, after a long moment, he’s on you. His hands grip you, grasp you, trace the shape of your body as though memorizing it by touch alone. 

“Inside. Now.” he growls, “Out here you’re askin’ for your daddy to catch us.”

You’re barely through the door before Logan is tugging at your clothes. You help him pull your top above your head, and you fumble with the button of your jeans as he unhooks his belt and yanks off his beater.

In a matter of moments, you’re both fully bare. His skin is hot against yours as he holds you to him, caging you against the door as he drags his teeth along your shoulder. His hard cock hangs against your thigh, heavy and thick and leaking.

Your clothes trail from the front door to his sofa. You don’t make it any further than that.

You’re a ticking time bomb, a siren, pulling him in, driving him wild. He wants and wants and wants, more than he ever knew he could. So much could be ruined; his friendship with your dad, the scrap of reputation he’s been building, his new life in this new place—

But now his want has turned into a need, and feeling you soft and pliant and oh so willing against him, he’d be a fool to turn back now.

Logan’s gropes at you, fingernails digging into the swell of your ass before cupping your pussy in one large palm. Rubbing up and down your cunt, he smears your wetness around.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he gasps. “Prettiest pussy I’ve seen.” 

Then he dips a finger into you and you groan and clench around it. He fucks you with it, deep, gentle strokes. He wasn’t wrong. As he fucks you with his finger, you feel how unbelievably wet you are. When he pulls back for a moment, you can see his hand is glistening with you, drips going all the way to his wrist.

“I can take more,” you promise, and he growls. 

“Can’t say shit like that,” he pants, “You’re sure you can take more. Can you take me? Don’t wanna hurt–”

“I can take you,” you assure him. If you’re honest, you don’t know if you can. What you do know is that you’re sure as fuck gonna try.

“How do you want me?” he asks, fighting to maintain the last shreds of his self-control.

Ever the masochist, “Want you on top of me, my ankles round your shoulders. Need you deep.”

“Gonna fuckin’ kill me.”

You lay back as he positions himself between your thighs. He presses a kiss to your left thigh before he hikes it over his right shoulder, and a kiss to your right calf, folding you in half.

He strokes the dripping head of his cock against your folds.

“You ready?” he asks, and you whine in desperation, nodding a yes.

He presses in, notching the tip inside. You groan at the sensation, relaxing into it as he rocks his hips gently.

“Doin’ so good,” he praises, “I know, baby, it’s a lot.”

You writhe and moan. It is a lot, but you still want more. More of his cock, of his hands on your body, of his praise.

“Taking it so well,” he soothes, letting his cock slide that little bit deeper inside, pulling most of the way out and driving back in, pressing whispers in your ear as he fucks into you.

When his pelvis is pressed flush against you, he lets out a sigh. 

“Look at that,” he huffs, “Takin’ all of me.”

You look down and watch enraptured as he pulls out and presses back in, deeper than you ever imagined, and rolls his hips, coarse hair grinding against your clit and making you howl.

”Keep making those pretty noises for me, honey.”

”Need more-“ you beg.

He starts rocking his hips, building a solid rhythm. His strokes are deep and devastating, and with every thrust you can feel your wetness start to flood down your thighs and cream around the base of his cock.

The wetter you get, the harder he fucks into you, each plunge punctuated with your cries, of “Yes!”, “More—“, “Please, Logan, please—“

Generous to a fault, he gives you everything you beg for.

The frustration of these longing, pent-up weeks is almost a forgotten memory. As you build towards the peak of your pleasure, the man above you is an animal. He grunts and pants and fucks you deeper than you knew possible. Your whines and cries and demands taper off, replaced by soft moans that start to swell as he litters your collarbone with kisses and rubs a calloused thumb against your clit.

”I’m—“ you warn, struggling to form words, “I’m gonna—“

 “‘M close too,” he grunts, “Give it to me, baby, need to feel you— Please, baby—“

With his words and a firm press to your clit, you come with a sob, cunt squeezing around him in pulsing contractions.

He fucks you through it, muttering a steady stream of filth the whole time. “That’s it, that’s it, fuck you’re gushing, soaking this cock. You feel so fucking good, tight little thing stretched so nice around me, taking it all like you’re made for it—”

Before you can even get over the first climax, the second starts to build. Logan can feel the way your pussy twitches for him, the way your breath shudders as he drives into you with staggering thrusts.

”Gonna cum again, aren’t you?” He growls. “Good-“ a thrust, “fucking—“, thrust, “girl—“ thrust, “Just can’t get enough of this cock, can you?”

You try to answer, but all that comes out is a cry as another orgasm overtakes you.

"That’s it,” the praises, still punctuating every word with a thrust, “That’s it! Let yourself feel it, let yourself feel good—"

You do, wave after wave of pleasure coursing through you. It’s overwhelming, the way it tears through you with no end in sight.

When he finally pulls out of you, you start to come back to yourself, your life-changing orgasm starting to wane.

He’s beautiful above you, covered in sweat, your wetness dripping down his thighs as he strokes his creamy cock.

With a groan, he comes on your stomach. You wrap your hand around his, stroking him gently till every drop is spent.

You make room for him on the sofa, uncaring that both of you are covered in sweat and fluids, and pull him down to rest in your arms.

"Fuck—" he exhales, and finally turns to face you again.

You stroke your fingers through your mussed hair.

"I knew you were trouble,” he murmurs, pressing kisses to your sternum.

There are so many things you’ll need to talk about, to work through. You are neighbors, after all, and you can’t do something like this without there being an aftermath.

But whatever is next can wait till morning.

Gently, he pulls himself up, and you with him. Holding each other close, you head to his bedroom. Without a word, you lay together, curled up in one another’s embrace.

He’s silent a long moment before speaking. "Is your daddy expecting you home tonight?” He asks. Neither of you want to think about that.

But thankfully, “No,” you tell him. “Told him not to wait up.”

"Oh, optimistic, were we?” He teases, and you look him up and down. His broad shoulders, sculpted chest, dark eyes, rumpled hair. This man you’ve grown so very fond of. 

“Yes,” you smile. “Yes, we are.”

Scott finds out, like, a day later and declares Logan his sworn enemy

[caesium-55]

—seven days [ epilogue ]

pairing: max verstappen x manager! reader

summary: as the third time world champion, max verstappen's manager, you function on the belief that whatever max verstappen wanted, max verstappen shall get. but this time, after four years of working as his manager, you can't give him what he wants anymore and that was to stay.

warnings: mentions of death and suicide.

author's note: here's the epilogue and the end end of the seven days series. thank you everyone for showing love to this fic! i was honestly so overwhelmed by the sheer amount of all of you. also, i apologize for all the broken hearts i caused after posting chapters 4-7. stay safe yall! i'll rest my fingers for real now. my doctor wasn't very happy with me. NOT BETA READ. NOT EDITED.

tags: @whatamidoingwithmylife-ramdom @eugene-emt-roe @bellezaycafe @barnestatic @theseerbetweenus @wcnorris @notyouraveragemochii @lpab @vildetry06 @a-beaverhausen @formula1mount @loloekie @alucardsdaddyissues @juky-ps @cassianswh0reeee @devotedlycrookeddonut @amberpanda99 @supermaxv1 @evie-119 @spideylovin @harianaswhore @formulaal @landorris @onecojg @leclercdream @vicurious28 @c-losur3 @spookystitchery @0710khj @strollnstroll @justab-eautifulmess @ssrcsm @seasonswinter @kravitzwhore @mycure156 i hope i didn't forget anyone

masterlist.

Julio [Name] was not an ambitious person. He didn't have dreams or concrete plans in life. But in 1985, his first dream was born. He wanted to be an F1 racer after reading about the Portuguese Grand Prix in a local newspaper where he saw a Brazilian racer even younger than him participate in it and winning it. Ayrton Senna was the racer’s name, twenty-five years old. At that time, Julio [Name] was the same age.

He immediately searched for the nearest karting track. He brought his then girlfriend, Sally Kingston, a dental student in USC, to the kart zone for their date. It was safe to say that driving was not exactly his forte. He crashed his rental kart and had to pay the damages. He was afraid that he made himself a loser in front of the Sally Kingston, the richest, prettiest, and nicest girl from L.A., and that she wouldn't wanna go out with a bumpkin like him anymore, but she had only laughed at him—her eyes turning into little crescents, showing too much teeth and gums—and from then and there, he knows he’s going to marry Sally Kingston one day. He might not have become a F1 driver, but he ended up marrying the girl of his dreams.

Him and Sally welcomed a son in 1991. They named him Damiano and he turned out to be a carbon copy of his beloved wife, not that Julio was complaining. When Damiano turned five, Julio brought him in the kart zone and let him try driving the kart. Damiano adored it so Julio signed him up for racing school. Three weekends later, Damiano got sick of driving around in circles so he stopped. Sally gave birth to a daughter in the same year—1996.

Five years later, he brings [Name], his mija, into the kart zone. He expected that you’ll be like Damiano, too, getting sick of the thing after three weekends or so. You didn't. You loved karting and going fast, almost dangerously so. You lasted five weekends so Julio signed you up for the kart zone’s junior racing school and you were their first female member. You won your first race when you were six, only seven months after you officially joined.

“She was born to race,” the team head told Julio. Julio then decided that he’d do whatever it takes so you could become a F1 driver.

Like his initial dream, his dream for you couldn't be brought to reality. When you were nine, you had to stop karting for financial reasons. Damiano was in high school, Rafael had leukemia, and Dominic had just been born. When Julio told you the news, you were sad but you understood why the decision was made so you never complained. You learned how to play billiards instead and your Abuelo was the one who taught you. It's cheaper than karting so Sally and Julio gave you their full support.

Julio [Name] was pleasantly surprised when you told him that you got accepted in USC’s engineering department years later. He half expected that you’d be like Damiano, who took an interest in dentistry, and was attending dental school. He was going to be a dentist like his mother. He was a perfect copy of Sally.

“If I can't be a racer, I’ll become a mechanical engineer,” you declared, head held high. Julio couldn't be anymore proud. You were living his dream.

If you asked Julio [Name] if he had lived a happy life despite not reaching his dreams, he would say yes without hesitation. He married the love of his life, Sally Kingston, now Sally [Last Name]. His first son, Damiano, had topped dental school and followed in his mother’s footsteps. His daughter, [Name], graduated with flying colors, a mechanical engineering degree under her belt and entered the motorsports industry, the first in the family to do so. (You even got him Fernando Alonso’s autograph! That's his second favorite driver!) Not only that, she volunteered at the LAFD during her college years and competed in a billiards tournament in Vegas, Australia, and the UK. You had the potential to be an international-level pool player but you didn't pursue the sport because you wanted to be an engineer. Rafael didn't let leukemia beat him and now, he’s finishing up his last year in CalTech, pursuing mechanical engineering like his older sister. A research team in Sweden had been eyeing him for a while now. Dominic, on the other hand, is steadily building a career for himself in volleyball. He was offered a sports scholarship in Harvard so, despite the fact that he’s going even farther than his siblings with no relatives near him like in L.A., Julio pushed him to pursue what he wanted. His children are his pride and joy. He spent every single day bragging about his children to his colleagues. The others had expressed their envy to him. Did Julio save a country in his last life to have such great children?

Furthermore, he’d been promoted to be the captain of Station 131 in Austin. Julio may not have driven an F1 car but he wouldn't even trade this family over anything in this world, not even the life of luxury and thrill of a Formula One Driver.

(What Julio didn't know was that Damiano had serious depression in dental school that he carried even after graduating, that you weren't accepted as an engineer in F1 and was stuck in a managerial position for the last five years, that Sweden found a better researcher than Rafael so he’s stuck suffering physically and mentally in a degree with his future unclear and cloudy, and Dominic was slowly losing passion in volleyball but it's the only thing putting him through college right now so he grits his teeth and put himself on court. No one told Julio. Julio got enough of his dreams broken already.)

Truthfully, despite working for Red Bull for half a decade, you never liked its taste. You were always the Monster Energy type of girl. It's the one drink that kept you functioning through all the all-nighters you pulled in engineering school. However, you kind of lost the palate for Monster Energy so now, here you are, standing outside a gas station mini mart in the middle of the dusty highway that leads to El Paso. You hold the chilled can of Red Bull against the side of your neck, satisfied with the feeling of something cool pressing against your skin. The temperature in Texas is going absolutely crazy this time of the year. In your other hand, two cigarette sticks balance in between your fingers. You crave the deadly nicotine. Desperately. But you're not stupid enough to smoke at a gas station because of your cravings.

Your phone vibrates and you pull it out of your pocket to see who messaged you. You snicker when you view the barrage of pictures from the Austin Grand Prix that Leo sent. A stolen shot of Logan, meme faces of Alex, the air show, a selfie with THE Fernando Alonso, and a Tiktok video with the other Williams mechanics.

You watched the race from the stands today and truthfully, you prefer watching the race in the garage than on the stands. It's unbelievably boring to be there. People pay thousands of dollars to sit under the excruciating heat of the sun and catch a glimpse of very fast cars for a nanosecond. You wouldn't even catch sight of if you blink. Nevertheless, you're happy that Leo is having the time of his life. You wish you share the same shoes.

leo: so so sad that u have to go

you: id be flattered if u actually mean it

leo: *rolling eyes emoji*

leo: i hope you choke on your beer

you: i hope you choke on the celebratory champagne

you: and i dont drink and drive

leo: good to know ur not stupid

leo: on a serious note make sure to drive to el paso safely

you: aight aight

leo: u know i have something to confess

you: if it's something stupid, don't bother

leo: ur stupid

you: fuck u

leo: shut up

leo: just wanna say i didn't break up with u bc u gave max too much attention

leo: i know that's what i said but i only said that bc i knew that u needed max to achieve ur dreams

leo: and idk i just thought max wouldn't give it to u not when im still dating u

you: that's stupid

you: max isn't like that

leo: hes in love with u

Your heart stutters. You ignore it.

you: liar

leo: i could tell u lil shit

leo: idk he looked like someone who’d hold a grudge

you: he does hold grudges

leo: and i cant allow myself to stand in between you and the one person who can give you your dream you know?

leo: i loved you enough to let you go to him

You choke on your saliva. You don't love Leo romantically anymore and you are sure that the feelings are mutual but his abrupt confession is enough to bring back the pain of loving him and letting him go all over again.

leo: u sure u won’t stay to see him?

leo: he’s the one who wants to see you the most

you: his ig messages makes me think otherwise

You're a fucking coward. A pussy.

leo: you didn't see the man [name]

leo: you don't know how empty he looks now

A shadow of guilt darkens your eyes. You quickly shove your phone into the pocket of your jacket. You open the Red Bull and take a large swig, almost draining the entire can. You exhale loudly after drinking, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. You stare at the vast expanse of the dry earth before you, starting to understand the appeal of aimless road trips in the southern roads.

The world seems to be turning in slow motion now.

Ever since your father died, time feels like it was moving too fast. You arrived at the hospital half an hour after Julio was officially pronounced dead. At that time, you felt like the world was ending. Your knees gave out in the middle of the hospital hallway. Your mother’s wail echoed in your ears. Damiano and Dominic were trying to console her, both of whom were crying terribly. You stare at them, face empty despite the hurricane brewing within you. Rafael wrapped his arms around you and you held onto him as he cried uncontrollably.

Your mother possessed a weak heart. She’d grown weaker and weaker day by day after your father passed. Your father’s station held a ceremony for him to pay tribute to their fallen captain. You were the one who carried his helmet all throughout the ceremony because the entire station knew you were his most prized child. When you flipped the helmet, there was a photo taped on it. A photo of the entire family at your graduation ceremony in USC. You maintained that tired and empty stare during the entire procession. In the middle of the ceremony, your mother collapsed.

Your father’s death was the first domino to be tipped. Your mother’s collapse during the funeral was the second. From then on, everything turned to shit. Your mother had always been frail and prone to sickness so it didn’t surprise you when she had grown so weak in a matter of days. She couldn't sleep. She didn't want to eat. She lost her will to do anything else. You took her to the hospital after a week because you were afraid she was beginning to become malnourished. Damiano suggested moving your mother to El Paso, to your Abuelo and Abuela’s farm, so your mother could recuperate there, and you agreed. The entire family moved to El Paso quickly, leaving the house in Vista Del Pueblo empty and celebrated the New Year there.

You opened your phone for the first time since you landed in ATX on the 30th and a barrage of messages had been sent to you. From Daniel, Logan, Leo, Kendall, Julia. You freeze when you see Max’s name. Your finger hovers above it, hesitating. Your mind trailed back to the five years you spent in Red Bull, to all the memories with Max in it, to what happened inside his penthouse in Monaco, the jet, the night you spent in his sheets, the shoes and—

Fuck.

“Kelly,” you mumbled to yourself, typing her username in the search box. You began typing up a message. You're not mentally equipped to write a long message of apology. Your mental dictionary was not ready to use so you decided to half ass the entire message and hope for the best.

you: sorry about the breakup

you: i didn't know about the shoes

you: i didn't take it

you: im so sorry

you: i hope you're not too hurt

In truth, you loved Kelly for Max. You never had problems with her. At first, you were concerned about the great age gap between her and Max as she was even older than Danny but then you figured that you did not have a say because Leo was also younger than you, born in the same year as Max. Then, you saw how she was so caring to Max, so patient in dealing with his misplaced anger, so supportive. You saw how Max transformed into a better version of himself, something you are not even capable of doing, because of Penelope and Kelly. How he became the world's most massive girl dad without trying. You ignored every bitter feeling that sprouted on your chest because you saw Max was happy and his happiness always came first. And now, you’re here, apologizing to Kelly for taking Max away from her.

kelly: i think i’m the one who’s been taking him from you

kelly: take care of him for me

you: thank you for loving him

You can't imagine how hurt Kelly was. Imagine dating and preparing a man so he could be perfect for another girl.

you: but i can’t do what you're asking

you: not anymore

“Not anymore,” you whisper to yourself, as if uttering it to the wind would cement it as the truth.

Not anymore, Max. I’m sorry.

Rafael and Dominic told you that they want to drop out of college to help you out with Mama a few days after New Year’s. You quickly told them no, to finish college and that you could handle taking care of two senior citizens and your sickly mother and help out on the farm since you’re essentially jobless at the moment.

The third domino is Damiano. You were always aware he’d been clinically depressed, taking medications to help him get better. Whatever he went through in dental school, he carried it with him until he was working. You believed he was getting better. He was seeing a therapist for years now and you were checking up on him every day. Then, like Mama, he just…. became worse. Rafael found him submerged in the bathtub in his apartment, red painting his wrists. Had Rafael not been there at the right time, Damiano would have followed Papa Julio.

The fourth domino is Dominic. He ruined his hand in March. The doctor told him it was dangerous for him to continue playing volleyball competitively. It was either he learned how to set with only his non-dominant hand because his dominant hand is partially crippled or he stopped playing all together. He’d choose the second option with no hesitation as he had lost his passion for the sport but if he’s not playing for Harvard anymore, no one would be able to pay his fees until graduation. Not when Julio died, not when Sally was too sick to continue working, not when Damiano was currently unstable, not when you’re the only one who had been supporting the entire family through your entire savings account. Red Bull must have paid you a lot of money because you’ve been keeping the entire family afloat for months now.

The fifth domino is Rafael, who got his entire thesis overhauled so now, his graduation was out of the picture. It sucked. He’d always been expected to follow his older siblings’ footsteps, both of whom are academically excelling individuals and Rafael had been studying and studying and studying. So why was this happening to him? Why was this happening to his family?

The sixth domino was yet to be tipped over.

You refuse to fall.

You blink, suddenly back in reality when you hear a loud caw of a bird flying above your head. You shake your head, tossing the Red Bull in a nearby trash can and returning inside the mini mart. The amount of caffeine in a Red Bull isn’t enough. You need more. You need fucking coffee.

Gas station coffee sucks but you’re never the type who complains. El Paso is still eight hours away and you’re sure you're going to be driving your motorcycle the entire night just to reach the farm the next morning.

You walked towards the Yamaha XSR 155 parked in front of the mini-mart, a styro cup of coffee that’s as black as your soul and as bitter as your life in your hand. Hypnotizing swirls of steam rise from the cup. In each step you take, the key that is attached to your hip jingles.

It's a little past four in the afternoon but the darkness of the sky makes you think it's around six PM. You pocket your cigarettes and stand beside your motorcycle, hand on your hip while the other brings the cup of coffee to your mouth. A car suddenly arrives, coming to a screeching halt in front of you. You flinch in surprise, almost spilling your coffee in your hands. You hiss loudly, brows furrowing, a curse sitting on the tip of your tongue. You hear the sound of a car door opening and slamming shut and when you look up—

“Max.”

He’s still in his Red Bull overalls, drenched in sweat as if he ran to the gas station instead of driving. His hair is windswept, sticking out in multiple directions almost attractively so. He looks simultaneously distraught and relieved when your eyes met. The longing in his eyes. God. You unconsciously take a step back and turn around—a flight response—when he charges in your direction.

A strong pair of arms wrap around you from behind, stopping you from your tracks and causing your coffee to spill and fall down pathetically on the floor. You avoided the puddle, hands reaching behind you to guide Max away from the steaming liquid. But it’s too late. You saw the hot coffee touch his skin.

“Max!” you exclaim, eyes going wide. Your hand wraps around his forearm, pulling it but his grip on you tightens so you resort to tapping his arm in hopes that he’ll let go and you can inspect his injured hand and make a quick run for the mini mart for first-aid supplies.

“Max, let go,” you say, panicking. “Your hand—”

“Don’t leave,” his voice cracks.

“I won't go, okay? Let go and I’ll—”

“No,” the hug tightens and you suck in a breath. “You’ll leave again. I know you’ll leave again.”

“I’ll fix your hand. You can’t burn your hand—”

“I can endure it. Let me have this please,” he pleads. You pull his hand but Max remains stubborn. Resigned, you sigh. It turns out that you’re still the same, giving whatever Max wanted.

“I’m sorry for getting angry,” he begins. “I’m sorry for stopping you from going to Renault. I’m sorry for promising that I’d talk to Christian. I’m sorry that I didn't. I’m sorry that you had to break up with Leo because of me. I’m sorry that I realized that I fell in love with you while dating Kelly. I’m sorry for the shoes. I’m sorry for getting drunk. I’m sorry for being so selfish. I’m sorry for not considering you. I’m sorry for loving you. I’m so, so sorry, [Name]. For everything.”

His words come rapidly and frankly, you don't want to hear Max like this. Max rarely apologizes. You're not used to hearing him apologize.

“Max—”

“I called, [Name].”

You freeze.

“I called so many times. Not once have you answered. Not once—” a loud sob erupts from his mouth, interrupting him. “You always come when I call.”

You close your eyes, letting out a shaky breath.

“I sent you a message,” he continues. “To wait for me. I know I’m selfish but can I have five minutes please? Just….five?”

A pause.

“Okay,” you whisper. Max’s body trembles against yours and you stand still for a few minutes,

“Hey,” you say gently, suddenly reminded that you're standing in an open space and Max is still in his Red Bull overalls and he doesn't even have his usual cap on and this compromising situation you're both in was going to be bad for Max’s online reputation once the wrong pair of eyes manage to catch sight of you. You can already imagine what the headlines would be.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND HIS FORMER MANAGER CAUGHT HUGGING IN A GASOLINE STATION AFTER AUSTIN GP.

MAX VERSTAPPEN AND FORMER RED BULL MANAGER IN A RELATIONSHIP?

FORMER RED BULL MANAGER POTENTIAL REASON FOR BREAKUP BETWEEN KELLY PIQUET AND MAX VERSTAPPEN?

MAX VERSTAPPEN CHEATED ON KELLY PIQUET WITH FORMER MANAGER?

MAX VERSTAPPEN, FULL-TIME WORLD TIME CHAMPION, PART-TIME CHEATING ASSHOLE.

God. You can already imagine the headache splitting the entire PR team’s skulls. The world already hates Max because of how good he was at his sport. You can’t allow people to shit on him more because of you.

“Max,” you try again, tapping his forearm so he can loosen his hold on you and you can turn around. “Max, baby, cooperate with me for a bit, yeah?”

You tug on his wrist and you can't help but sigh in relief when his arms loosen a little. He’s beginning to choke you a little bit. With his arms still around you, you pivot on your heels so you’re face-to-face with his broad chest.

When you look up to Max’s face, your heart shatters into a million pieces. His tears continue to flow and violent sobs wrack his entire body, robbing him of the ability to speak and barely allowing a breath to be drawn. He’s going to hyperventilate. Fucking dammit.

“Max,” how many times have you said his name in the last few minutes? “Hey, breathe with me.”

Your hand cradles his jaw and your eyes focused on his blue ones and fuck, they’re as insanely beautiful as you remembered.

“Breathe.”

You perform exaggerated inhales and exhales so Max can match your breaths, his hands settling on your shoulders. His palms feel heavy against your shoulders and his fingers dig deep into your skin.

“I’m here, Champ. I’m here,” you assure him. “I’m here now.”

You wait until he calms down a little and when he does, your right hand searches for his, intertwining your fingers together to assure him that you’re not going anywhere just yet. Your other hand comes up to hold the area below his neck and you slowly guide him back to his car. It’s a little difficult, Max obviously has no intention to let you go, but you know how to make things work.

Max sits on the driver's seat with you standing outside of the car. He's still clinging onto your hand and you use the other hand to hold the roof of the car for support. Max stopped crying now, staring blankly at you with a sad pout on his face. His tears are now dry, staining his cheeks.

“You okay now, Champ?” you ask, never failing to sound gentle. That's what Max needs now. Gentleness. God forbid you pull a Jos Verstappen.

Max shakes his hand, making you sigh deeply. Your eyes trail to the hands, the pale skin now an angry red.

“Max,” you call his attention. He looks up at you and you have to avoid his gaze because if you look at his face, your heart hurts. “I’ll get something from the mini-mart for your burn, aight?”

He shakes his head and his grip on your hand impossibly tightens. If he keeps this up, he’s going to break your bones.

“No.”

If you were the same person that you were in 2023, you would have let Max do what he wanted. What Max wanted, what Max shall get—that’s the philosophy you lived by. But things are different now. Leo told you that you’re allowing Max to take too much from you and Max needs to learn to actually listen to you.

You’ve been taught to treat even the most minor of burns as if it’s a major burn. That's what you are planning to do right now.

“Max,” you say, a little firmer now. “Gonna grab somethin’ in the mart real quick, you stay here, aight?”

“No—”

“Not askin’, Champ,” you interrupt him. “I'm not leavin’ yet, not goin’ anywhere until I make sure you’re okay. So stay here and wait.”

You swiftly remove the key attached to your belt and force it into his palm, “Here are my keys. I’m not goin’ to drive off and leave you here, aight? Do you trust me?”

You have a feeling that this anxiety of his might have stemmed from that one incident in his childhood where Jos left him at a gas station. Fucking son of a bitch that man was.

Hesitantly, Max says, “I do.”

“Good,” you ruffle his hair, dampening your palm.

You can see he does not like what you're doing now but he does not have any choice so he sits in the car, looking as pitiful as ever. You jog up to the mini-mart, immediately going to the beverage section to grab a bottle of water and passing by the hygiene shelf to snatch a handkerchief. You go to the counter and the middle aged guy manning the register obviously does not look impressed that you’re in his shop for the third time in the same hour, which is stupid because he should be glad that he has a customer. You put everything on the counter, pulling out some bills from your back pocket.

“You happen to have neosporin?” you ask.

“Do we look like a drug store?” he retorts. You roll your eyes, toss the bills to the cashier, and grab your items without even waiting for the guy to wrap them all up in a paper bag. You jog back to Max’s car.

“Excuse me,” you lean inside the car, opening the compartment to search for a burn cream you left inside there last year. Your eyes land on his keys, stiffening when you notice that Max kept every single gift you gave him. The bead keychain from 2020, the bottle opener keychain from 2021, the clay figure keychain from 2022, and the bracelet from 2023 sway slightly, staring back at you. You shake your head and resume doing your original mission. You find the burn cream and you immediately search for the expiration date. January 2025; it’s still good to use.

You straighten, take hold of Max’s wrist gently, and roll up his long sleeves up to his elbows. You open the water bottle and tug Max’s hand towards you so he won't get water on his car as you pour water on his burn. Once the bottle is nearly empty, you apply the cream on the reddened area of his skin. Then, you use the handkerchief, which you dampen using the leftover water, to dress it.

Max is silent the entire ordeal, watching you work your way meticulously and carefully around his hand. The same meticulousness one can expect from a former firefighter paramedic volunteer.

You step back to inspect your work, but Max’s hand stretches out towards you, grabbing the hem of your jacket.

“Sorry,” he says and yet you see his knuckles slowly turning white, which makes you unsure if he truly is apologetic or not. “Just…yeah, sorry. Can you stay for a while please?”

“Have to leave soon,” you say. “El Paso’s still hours away. I have to be there by morning.”

He nods, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down, “Okay.”

“Thirty minutes, Max,” you decide. “Thirty minutes.”

You pull out your phone from your pocket to check the time and see the multiple notification bars. You type the password and direct to the message app to see the flurry of messages Max sent earlier. You have not noticed them.

max: i heard you came

max: where are you

max: please

max: can you give me ten minutes

max: just

max: please

max: wait for me

max: i’m not angry anymore

max: im begging you

max: or five minutes [name] im okay with just five

max: or even less

max: i just need to see you

“Who told you I was here?” you question, brows knitting together. There are currently two names in your head. They both start with the letter L and they both work at Williams.

“Leo called me and told me you were here.”

“Of course he did,” you roll your eyes. Logan will never dare betray you like this. You made Leo promise not to tell Max where you were in El Paso and the bitch told him where you were the moment you stepped out of El Paso. He didn't break his promise technically, but it's still a very bitch move for him to pull. You're going to have a lengthy conversation with him later.

“So you’ve been in El Paso?” he asks.

You nod.

“My grandparents’ place.”

He nods.

“Sorry about Julio, by the way.”

You sigh. God, you want to cry.

It's truly unfair how God decided to take away Julio [Last Name]. Death should happen to assholes and shitty people. To people who abuse their children every day. To people who waste years of their lifespan on nicotine and alcohol. To people who kill people. Death shouldn't happen to heroes, who risk every single day of their lives to save other people. Death shouldn't happen to Julio [Last Name], a firefighter who died saving a kid in a burning building. At least, not this early. Not until you fulfilled his dream for him.

(His last words: I don't regret doing what I did. I have kids, too. I want someone to save them the same way I did that kid if they ever get stuck in a situation like this.)

“Did Leo tell you that, too?” you hope that he didn't notice that your voice slightly wobbled.

“No,” Max shakes his head. “We—Logan and I came to Vista Del Pueblo in December. Your neighbor told us that…”

He doesn't need to finish his sentence for you to know what he’s trying to say.

You nod, “So that's why there was an article that day…”

You remember Damiano showing you the news article in his phone—AN UNLIKELY FRIENDSHIP: MAX VERSTAPPEN OF RED BULL RACING AND LOGAN SARGEANT OF WILLIAMS RACING SPOTTED DRIVING AROUND AUSTIN. You shrugged it off at that time.

“How are you?”

You turn to Max, raising a brow at his question.

“How am I?” you echo, sounding a little bewildered.

You see, Max has never asked this question. You're used to “Are you okay?” but not this. Not this question. You can easily lie to an are-you-okay. You can say yes even if you’re not, and you won't give yourself away because you only uttered one word. But with how-are-you, it’s different. It's not a question that is not answerable by yes or no. You actually have to explain how you feel. That's why Papa Julio only asked, “How are you, mija?” rather than “Are you okay, mija?” Papa Julio wants to know how your day went even if you're okay or not.

Yeah. You're definitely going to cry at this rate.

“How have you been after Julio?”

“You really wanna know?”

“I wanted to be there for you at that time,” Max confesses. “When I learned that Julio was gone, I wanted to go to you. But Leo stopped me. He said I was not what you needed at that time and I agree. I was too angry at you for leaving me. I’m glad he didn't tell me where you are, despite how painful it was. I was selfish and immature that I cared about my grief and forgot to consider yours. I reflected on my actions a lot. I am not sure how different I am now from that version of me but I think I changed a bit. So yes, [Name], I want to know, because I want to know how you felt and help you in any way I can.”

You stand there, stunned at what Max has said. And perhaps it was his sincerity or the way his determined blue eyes stare into your soul that caused the sixth domino to tip. You break into tears, a raw cry escaping your mouth. You are so fucking tired of carrying everything on your shoulders.

Max is quick to engulf you in a hug and you don't hesitate to pull him into you, pressing your face against his shoulders as you let everything out. You claw his back as if you're trying to mold himself into you. Your nose turns red, snot drips out of your nose. You sob too loud and too heavily that you can hardly draw a breath. You don't cry pretty and this is the first time you allowed yourself to cry with another person bearing witness to your fragility.

When you calmed down, you found yourself sitting beside Max, shoulder to shoulder, in the backseat of his car, playing with the drawstrings of your jacket.

“Sorry.”

“Don't be.”

“Sorry, I was just so tired,” you tip your head upwards. You can feel Max’s eyes on you. “Things have been hard since Papa died.”

“Do you want to talk? I’ll listen.”

You chuckle humorlessly.

Jesus, what did Leo feed this guy?

It feels like the roles are reversed now.

“Everybody's been takin’ it pretty hard so I'm trynna to be strong for them, you know? But I’m not that strong,” you begin. “I’m just as lost as everyone else and it's hard pretendin’ like I’m not. I’m not really sure what will happen with my life now so I wander around and do car repairs for a few folks in El Paso.”

“What happened to your dream? The job?”

“Well, it's gone,” you say, making Max’s eyes widen. “Not my time yet, I suppose. Or rather, I’m never supposed to have time. I guess I’m just not meant to be an engineer.”

“No,” Max turns to you, clasping your hands in desperation. “No, no, no. You always wanted to become an engineer. You can't just—I’ll think of something. I’ll ask Christian. I’ll ask the other teams. Renault isn't in Formula One right now but I can—”

“Max,” you smile sadly. “Let it go.”

“But—”

“Do you know what my Papa’s dream was?” you interrupt. “It’s to be a Formula One racer.”

You smile, remembering all the times you’ve seen your father watch the races on the television since you were younger. He’d wake up even in the ass crack of dawn just to watch them live. He’d be so tired after a 24-hour shift at the fire station but he’d refuse to even catch a wink of sleep until the Grand Prix broadcast is done. He always received a beating from your Mama because of it.

“He saw Senna in the newspaper and decided that he wanted to be like him, too. Sadly, Papa never vibed with a steering wheel so there was no future in that industry. He's always so disappointed in himself, sayin’ he can do the most unhinge shit at work but can't even drive a car. When Damiano and I turned five, he brought us karting. I could tell he was disappointed that Damiano didn't share his love for racing and I hated seein’ him sad so I learned to love karting. He signed me up and I did my best to win. I think I was good. Good enough to make him proud of me. Papa looked so happy when I won my first trophy. He cleaned it every week.”

You smile fondly at the memory.

“Then, shit happened and I have to stop. Papa looked even more disappointed than me that I had to stop. It hurts. Disappointment from your parents, I mean, even if I know that it's somethin’ beyond my control. I figured that if I can't be a racer, I’ll work in a pit stop. That's close enough. When I told him that I got accepted into USC and how I wanted to be an engineer, it was the proudest I have ever seen him since I won my trophy. I was livin’ his dream. I applied for Red Bull and Renault because those are Papa’s favorite teams and the rest is history.”

You pause.

“He’s never got to see me become an engineer,” you choke out, wiping the stray tear that fell from your eye with the back of your hand. “It was his dream. He always had his dreams broken and I was gonna reach his dreams for him but he’s gone before I can do so. Now, I’m so lost because I realized that I was shapin’ myself to become an extension of Papa and now that he's gone, I am an extension of no one. I was reaching for dreams that I don't own. I’m so tired and I’m so lost, Max.”

Max stares at you sadly.

“I should have talked to Christian sooner. Fuck, I hate myself for not talking to Christian. Fuck, why was I so selfish?” he presses the ball of his palms against his eyes in frustration. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“That’s okay,” you say. “I’ll find my way.”

You look at the scenery outside of the window. Night has fallen. You should have left for El Paso by now.

“I need to go,” you say, heart heavy.

“So soon?”

Max is panicking again.

“Jesus, Champ, calm down,” you pat his shoulders.

“Will I see you again?” Desperation laces his question.

“Dunno really,” you shrug.

“Can you wait for me?”

Your brows furrow.

“I’ll retire by 2028. No, that's still long. 2027. Ah no—2026? Can you wait for me? I—” Max’s hand trembles. “I love you. I love you, [Name]. I—I love you even before Kelly. I can’t. I can't lose you.”

The world stops.

“I am stupid, I am selfish, and I think I’m asking too much. If you can just wait for me, I’ll—I can even retire next year if you think it's too long—”

“Hold up right there, Champ,” you stop him. “You're not retirin’ early.”

“If you want me to, I will.”

You sigh in exasperation.

“Max,” your voice is low. “That’s your career. I’m not gonna—Jesus, Max don’t retire, okay? Not even for me. Retire only when you want to.”

This man is just…

You don't know if you want to choke him or kiss him.

“I want you to have me, [Name]. I… I want to be with you, to love you, and if retiring is the only way I can do that then I will,” he says. “I love you.”

You purse your lips.

“I love you, too, Max,” you confess and now, your chest feels lighter now that you've said it out loud. “But not now, I can't love you like this. I’m too… I can't pursue a relationship with you right now. Not when…”

“It's not our time,” Max nods. “I understand.”

He really did change.

“I want to find my way through life first," you tell him.

Max smiles and he pulls you again in a hug. He has tears in his eyes again and he sniffles, chuckling at himself for crying again. He pulls away from the hug slowly and hands you your keys.

“See you around?"

“See you around.”

You exit the car and you notice that your heart feels lighter now compared to the time you left Monaco even though you are doing the same exact thing—leaving Max to go home.

At the end of 2023, you grace the paddock with your presence—your signature YSL heels is back on the tracks. You wear pants now, instead of the corporate pencil skirts, matched with a Prema Racing polo shirt. The label at the back indicates: AERODYNAMIC ENGINEER. By the end of 2024, you are promoted to the strategy team. By 2025, you become a race engineer of an up-and-coming racing superstar and you kept the job position until now.

The world didn't end just because your Dad died. It took you a while to realize that your Papa didn't own your dreams. It was always yours to begin with. He just played a part in inspiring them.

Max Verstappen became the 2024, 2025, 2026, 2027, and 2028 WDC, marking history as an eight-time consecutive champion. He retired after the 2028 season and disappeared from the face of the Earth. He had stopped going home to his penthouse in Monaco, had put his private jet on sale, and had cut ties to his father, Jos, who was very disappointed that his son had retired too early in the sport. Max retired willingly—he had achieved more awards than most of his seniors and it's time to give room to the younger ones. Rumors say that he had established a racing program somewhere in Belgium. Charles Leclerc, Max's friend, refuses to update the media regarding Max's whereabouts and only says: "He's happy. Don't worry."

Years later, a thirteen-almost-fourteen year-old girl named Emiliana Julia Verstappen, racing under the American flag, become the youngest driver in history to join the ranks of the F1 academy and later, she becomes the youngest driver to ever drive a Formula One car, racing for Scuderia Ferrari as second driver, at only seventeen and a hundred and fifty days old, overthrowing Max Emilian Verstappen, retired eight-time F1 WDC, whom the world has not seen since his retirement, from the list.

[lostinlads]

The Deal

Synopsis: You wait eagerly to see what your father has in store with some shady criminals he owes money to, but little do you know you're the payment

Tags: sylus x femme!reader, MDNI IF YOU ARE A MINOR YOU WILL BE BLOCKED, mentions of drugs, mentions of guns, mentions of kidnapping, your father basically gives you away to pay off his debts, sylus is a bit rough with you, angst, hurt no comfort

Words: 2.3k

an: Hi!!! Okay this chapter is mostly build up, i know yall wanna see him but i promise you'll get to see more interaction with him in chapter two. but thank you for the hype this has been getting! feel free to let me know any feedback you have or excitements for the next chapters to come!

ao3 | Chapter List | kofi

You pace your room, gnawing on your nails as your eyes flicker between the door and the floor.

The silence beyond is your worry, your father rushing you in and shutting the door firm behind him. Ushering you to be quiet, be still, while he did his business.

But now there was only the deafening silence as the pair of you waited for your "guests" to arrive. The hum of your fan and the shuffling of your footsteps only made the worry in your chest swell.

Anything could come through that door, and anything could happen to the both of you. You weren't shy with his dealings in the N109 Zone, in fact you've helped with a few on occasion. The thought of any of those men coming here collecting debt made your blood run cold.

Before your mind could wander anymore, three sharp knocks sounded at the front door making you jump. With a small gasp you ran and sat on your bed, trying to make as little noise as you possibly could.

You listened close as you hear the front door open. Four or five pairs of feet could be heard, one being your father's, as they made their way inside. With a soft bang the door shut behind them, echoing throughout the still house. 

"Hello, Sir," Your father's voice muffled and filled with worry. You could almost picture the beads of sweat forming on his forehead.

"You said you had your payment," A voice so deep it was almost hard to make out. His words sharp and to the point as the footsteps slowed to a stop.

"I-I do," Your father's words cut short by a low, threatening laugh.

"That's funny," Panic, blood pumping in your ears. "Because just last week I heard you were going around begging for more money. Now you tell me you have my payment. Please, enlighten me. How did you manage to come up with that loan and enough to pay me back for all of the toys you bought from me?"

Your fingers gripped the sheets, anything can happen. This man can shoot your father. Can kill him. He could beat him, rob you of everything you own. As you are forced to sit and listen to it happen.

"I have something better," He promised, urgency lacing his words. 

"Please, I don't need any of the guns you pro-" Your father cut him off. 

"Not guns. Not guns, not drugs, not anything like that." He tried again with more confidence. You listened closer, unsure what your father had up his sleeve this time. But his promise to get out of his debts made you hopeful.

"I'm waiting," Annoyance clear in the man's voice.

"My daughter," Your jaw slacked as a small gasp ghosted out of your lips. A high pitch ringing in your ears as you stared at the door in shock.

You?

He was using you as payment?

"I don't do business like that." The man spat angerly, disgust lacing every word.

"Listen," Your father pled again. Your hands began to shake as the beat of silence fell over the house. 

"She has an Aether Core in her heart." His words so quiet you almost couldn't hear. "She has an Aether Core and can resonate with other Evols. I know you've been looking for one, but I promise her ability is more useful to you and your... talents." Your heart pounding in your chest as you place a weak hand over your still open mouth.

Another growth of silence spread and the only things you could hear is your muffled pants and your panicked heart hammering in your ears. Why wasn't he saying anything? He wanted an Aether Core; would he kill you for it?

The thoughts in your brain ran wild as you waited on bated breath for his answer. Most of them ending in your demise, heart ripped out of your chest as your father lays to blame for selling you off so easily. 

"Where is she?" Voice stone, but you could almost hear a tinge of smugness to it.

"Let me-" Your father's words cut off once more.

"I didn't ask you to get her, I asked where she is?" You could feel the power in his command, in him. How he was in charge, and how he always is. And now you would be his possession, how you belonged to this very, very bad man.

"Down that hall, her door is on the left." Dread settling in your core as your father gave him the directions. 

Two sets of footsteps steadily grew louder as they inched closer to your room. Tears stung in your eyes as hopelessness consumed you. There would be no way you could fight them off, and now you doubted you could reason with any of them. The only thing you could think to do is sit and be complicit, pray that one day he will grow bored with you and leave you be. But the feeling in your gut told you otherwise. 

You almost didn't hear the footsteps stop over the pounding heartbeat in your ears. The twisting of the knob made you drop your hands to your lap and sit still, fighting against the shockwaves of tremors running through your muscles.

The door opened at an achingly slow pace, two dark clothed figures coming into view. As they swung the door open completely you could make out two identical figures, right up to the height and their crow masks covering their faces. The only difference was the "06" and "07" on their horned hoods. You swallow at the sight, only making your fear that much more real. This wasn't just some bad guy loan shark you occasionally had seen. These were so much more than that. 

"Get up," One spoke, "07". You stand, hands wringing together as you try to gulp down your fear and the tears threatening to fall from your eyes. You need to put on a brave face. You need to be strong right now.

"Will you come with us, or are you going to put up a fight?" The other ask, your eyes flicking to him, his voice a pitch higher than his twin. Neither of these scary men were the ones talking to your father, which only made the fear consuming you thicken. He sent his goons to get you.

"I..." You start but the words die on your tongue. Swallowing hard and swiping your tongue over your lips, you try again. "I'll go, you don't need to worry." You almost couldn't recognize your own voice, it strained and tight as the bubble of nerves in your throat take up most of the room.

You walk towards them, legs shaking beneath your weight as you try your best to stay standing and not collapse. The pair start to walk back, keeping you between them so you don't get any ideas of running off or fighting them. The sounds of your footsteps seem so deafening loud to you as you try to breathe, to focus your drumming heart but the closer you get the closer you feel to hyperventilation.

As you round the corner to the living room you catch a glimpse of your new... owner? Housemate? The guy who will be keeping you on a tight leash for the time being. Along with your father's stone-cold face as he casts a glance at you.

His shoulder broad, the first thing you notice as his back is facing you. So broad he almost doesn't seem human. The next is his height, towering over your father and definitely you as well as you make your way closer. Silver hair sits atop his head, seemingly very neat and in place. At least you weren't going to be living with a slob you suppose. 

He turns, arms folded over his chest as the muscles in his arms bulge under his shirt. Fuck, he could kill you with them and you would have no chance of fighting back. His cold, red eyes scan the two men at your sides then finally fall on you, his features unwaning, almost as if he is bored with the whole thing. You gulp, his piercing gaze sending warning signs throughout your body as you try to look anywhere other than his judgmental stare.

"This her?" He asks aloud, cocking an eyebrow up as he gives you a once over before turning back around to face your father. He nods in response, refusing to meet your pleading eyes, betraying you. "Kieran, go grab a bag and some clothes for her. You'll take her back." He commands as he turns and faces the three of you. 07, or now you know as Kieran nods curtly before turning on his heel and walking back to your room. The thought of a man going through your clothes - your belongings - only turns your unease into disgust. You were more than capable to do it yourself, yet he is commanding his goons to do it. To throw your life in bags and carry you away without a second thought. 

He steps closer. Your gaze fixated on the floor in front of you as his polished leather shoes come into view. You don't even have time to react as his hand comes up and grips your face, firm enough to make you wince. The man lifts your head, forcing you to make contact with those deadly, blood red eyes once more. 

Then his eye started to glow. And the pain in your head starting to pound. Like he was scraping at your brain, digging inside to find what he wanted. Your hand came up to weakly curl around his wrist, brows furrowing as the pound grew louder, pulsating and making you lightheaded. You could feel the evil in him, it swarmed your senses as your brain screamed for him to get away.

"Please..." You whisper, a weak attempt to ask him to stop. But it only made his grip tighten. Your breath coming out in hot pants, fanning his face as the pressure grew behind your eyes feeling like they would pop. You tighten your grip, nails digging into his wrist as your vision started to blacken around the edges.

"So, this kitten has claws," He spat with a dark chuckle before letting your face go with a slight shove. You gasp, squeezing your eyes shut as your hands came up to your temples. You didn't feel Kieran return next to you, your breathing so ragged as you try to calm the searing hot pain in your head as a fat tear rolled down your cheek. Both the men beside you grab your arms to hold you still.

"She will be enough," The man spoke again, turning to your father one last time. "But if I catch wind of you sniffing around for more unauthentic deals, I won't be as nice as I was tonight. I'm no stranger to house calls." His tone mocking as he threatened him. You open your eyes to see your father nodding, accepting these rules before the men beside you usher you towards the door, leaving no room for goodbyes. 

The cool evening air hits you as the four of you make your way outside. A shiver runs down your spine as goosebumps bloom on your hot flesh. You want nothing more than to wrap your arms around yourself to shield some of the cold away, but the strong hands gripping them at your sides wash that dream down the drain.

Two black SUVs stand in your driveway, blacked out windows and all. The twins push you to one, throwing open the door and pushing you inside along with a bag you assume has your clothes in as they turn to face the skyscraper of a man a few paces back from you three.

"You two head back with her, I'll meet you both once things are settled," He nods towards you, not taking his gaze away from the two men obscuring most of your view. 

"On it boss!" They say in unison, a cheery tone as if this situation was anything but a kidnapping. One of them nudges your door closed before they both make their way to the front of the car, saluting at the man who stayed standing in your drive. 

They climb in, starting the car and backing out with ease as one reaches to turn on the radio. Music fills the small space as they continue down the road, the heavy vehicle making nothing more than a soft hum. The exhaustion of the situation washes over you, vibrations of the car lulling you enough to lean on the door as you stare out the dark windows. Watching everything you know leave.

"Hey," The man with the lighter voice speaks up, turning to look behind at you. Your eyes flicker to him, nothing but the slick black crow mask in view.

"I know it seems a little scary right now, but boss will take care of you." Was this some kind of trick? For you to let your guard down before they destroy you? Kill you even? Not wanting to disobey you just nod, short and stiff as you watch for any signs of danger coming your way. He just turns around, leaving you even more confused as the crease in your brow returns. An odd bunch of people tonight.

You return your gaze back to the window, eyelids growing heavy as the sea of lights pass you by, the city growing dark and slow. Maybe you could rest your eyes for a moment, and if you're lucky this would all have been some sick and twisted dream you thought of in your exhausted and stressed state. 

You can only hope as you make your way out of the city, the dark lights of the N109 Zone far ahead of you. But growing closer by the second. 

[rrickgrrimes8]

Your Bear Part II

summary: you are found (part I)

Joel Miller x daughter!reader, Tommy Miller x niece!reader

warnings: angst, reunion, violence, infected, happy ending :))

not sure if i like this as much as the first part but i hope yall do. i just want to thank you all for the response to my past few fics (especially your bear). its been unreal. i stopped writing for a while and these were my first ones back so this was an insane response to it! thank you so much for your love and appreciation it really does mean a lot!

also! i tagged basically everybody who left a comment asking for part 2 - sorry if thats annoying idk ive never done a taglist before. thanks for the comments tho :) 

masterlist

request guidelines (new)

requests are open

word count: 2.3k

22 Years Ago...

The world around you screamed for help. People ran around, skin on fire, missing massive chunks.

You wailed as they passed, hands tightened around your ears. You just wanted to find help. You wanted to save Sarah. This wasn’t what you expected.

“D-ad,” You cried, hiccupping, “D-addy!” You missed his touch. You missed his voice and his face. His laugh. You just wanted your daddy.

But which way had you come from?

You stood, idle, in an alley way you didn’t recognize, a man lay a few feet beside you. Blood seeped from his neck, running to kiss the tips of your shoes.

He twitched.

Your breath caught in your throat, the hair on your neck stood high. “D-daddy,” You whimpered, quieter than before, “Please.”

He looked at you now. His face grotesque, the shape of jagged teeth marked his greyish skin. White, stringy tendrils extended out of his mouth as he crawled to you – his legs being left behind as he did.

You screamed when his nails scratched against your shoe. In the panic, your bear fell from your grasp, landing in the bloodbath.

You tried backing up from the monster, but his hand stopped you. His claws captured your ankle.

You didn’t realise you were falling until your back hit the wet ground. You let out a shriek as he trailed up your body. “P-please,” You sobbed, “D-ad! D-addy!”

The creature didn’t even flinch. He opened his jaws further, searching for your small neck, ready to mark you just as he had been.

But a shot sounded off and his weight settled on your petite body.

A strong force tugged him off you, the same force pulling you into their arms. You wailed, fighting against the stranger’s grip.

“It’s okay, sweetgirl, you’re okay,” She told you, rushing you away from the scene, “You’re going to be okay; I promise.”

x

You didn’t know what to make of Jackson. It was nice, you supposed. Weird though. It felt like what you imagined before felt like. Not that you remembered much. You remembered how loud cars were, how the TV remote worked, how to strum a guitar.

You remembered your sisters voice, her hair, how smart she sounded even if you didn’t understand a word.

You wished you remembered your dad. He was a blur to you. Like you had missed a chapter of a book and now a new character had no face. You remembered his laugh though. It was sweet, slow. Like a lullaby. You recalled being held to his chest and feeling the vibrations.

You wished you remembered your dad. 

Sarah had settled in quickly, at least that’s what you thought. She was happy to be around people other than her mom (you tried not to internalise it all that much).

In the week since you arrived Sarah had grown attached to the strangers that took you under their wing. You still weren’t so sure. But when Sarah made grabby hands to the older man and all she got was a dejected smile in response a part of you hurt. You didn’t understand why.

They’d kept their distance or rather he had. Ellie came round every day. She loved Sarah. She loved you, even if, like Joel, you were a little rough around the edges.

But for a reason unbeknownst to you Joel couldn’t be in a room with you for longer than five minutes. You didn’t let it bother you too much. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to make trouble and get the pair of you kicked out or worse separated. 

Ellie had come to you earlier that day, smile wide, cheeks rosy. She had a glint in her eyes, a plan. One you really didn’t want to know about nor be a part of.

Excitedly, she told you about the couple who lived across from her and Joel - his brother. Tommy and Maria and the somewhat new addition of Lily, their little girl. Ellie had told them about you - although missing out some of the major minor details. They agreed to have you over she had said. And despite the age difference between Lily and Sarah the older girl was excited to meet her.

So, there you stood, Sarah shielded from the cold into your chest. You raised your hand awkwardly, knocking a little harder than you expected.

A woman opened the door. She was beautiful, smiley, friendly. You couldn’t tell if that was a façade or not. That made the nerves in your stomach stiffen. “C’mon in, sweetheart,” Maria ushered you inside after she confirmed it was you.

You forced a smile for her, “Nice place.”

Maria nodded, looking around the room proudly, “Thank you.” She urged you to take a seat, letting you know her husband, Tommy, was just dressing Lily.

“So, you’re younger than I thought you would be,” She confessed, “Not to be rude or anything.”

“No, it’s okay,” You cleared your throat, sitting opposite her, Sarah making a home on your lap, “I’m 27.”

“Wow,” She smiled, “And what about her?”

You stroked the top of Sarah’s head, where her hair had slightly begun to grow, “Couple weeks now.”

Maria shifted ever so slightly in her seat, unspoken sympathy in her eyes, “And the father?” You stilled, escaping her gaze you looked towards the coffee table, taking inventory of the odd books they had. “I’m sorry,” She spoke quietly, “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“N-no,” You cleared your throat sheepishly, “There isn’t... her dad did what he had to.” You still remembered his screams.

“I’m sorry,” Maria frowned, hands soothing over her jeans, wishing Tommy would appear to aid the situation.

“Don’t be,” You said earnestly, “He got us here, right? One way or another...” Maria wasn’t sure you really meant that. The lost look in your eyes told her what she needed to know. As did your shaking knee. You’d give anything to have him back. She bit her lip, somewhat guessing the rest.

“Sorry ‘bout that,” A males voice cut through the tension, “Wouldn’t stop squirming for the life of me.”

Maria chuckled opening her arms to grab Lily, introducing you as she did. He blanched hearing that name. He near screamed seeing that face - your face but so much different, so much more mature.

Tommy blinked a few times, wondering if his eyes were deceiving him. He whispered your name carefully, as if you were a wild animal, prone for violence.

Maria gave him an odd look, moving Lily over to you and Sarah. “And this is our sweetheart, Lily,” She told you as Lily began fussing relentlessly in her arms, desperate to touch the baby.

“Baby,” She cooed.

“Yeah, that’s right,” You mused, croakily, inching closer to the pair, “This is Sarah, Lily.”

Tommy wanted to throw up. He felt it dancing up his throat, teasing his uncertainty. He felt stuck. He truthfully didn’t know what to do or what to say. Should he straight out ask you? You didn’t seem to recognise him though. Maybe it was a clone? A doppelgänger? Should he run over to Joel’s for safety away from this confusion? 

Joel.

Did Joel know? He had to know. He needed to know.

“Tommy what’s wrong?” Maria called to him. He choked a little, eyes trailing over to the plaque that watched over their new life. The plaque he knew had no place for your name. He knew it. You were here.

Maria followed his gaze, a weird feeling in her chest as she saw her husband so unlike himself. She read Joel’s daughter’s name. Sarah. Was he freaked out because they shared the same name?

She gulped - it wasn’t just the baby whose name was shared but yours too it seemed. You couldn’t be, right? No- You died. Joel was so sure you died and despite all Tommy had told her, all the hope he had for you, she always found herself on Joel’s side. Funny that. Any other situation she would’ve made a point to oppose the eldest Miller.

But now... You were just five. You couldn’t have survived on your own. You wouldn’t have had a life in this world.

But again, hadn’t you said you were 27?

“Go,” She told him, firmly, “Make sure.” Tommy nodded, failing to hide his tears as you watched in confusion and darted out of the room with a sense of urgency that unsettled your stomach.

“Is everything okay?”

Maria’s attention snapped back to you, “Fine... everything’s fine.”

A disconcerting feeling swam under your skin and a sudden resolve to flee hit you. “I- We should probably go,” You mumbled, bringing Sarah to your chest once more.

“Wait, please,” She attempted, “Just wait.”

You shook your head, apologising softly before rushing out of the house. You caught eyes with two men across the road - Joel and Tommy. They stood on his porch, seemingly arguing with each other.

You spotted Ellie watching through the window, a guilty look on her face - what had she done?

The brothers stared at you as you left the home. Their eyes didn’t leave you for a second. Tommy called your name, desperately but when he moved to catch up with you, Joel pulled him back.

He clenched his jaw as you rushed back to your home, out of sight. “She was my niece, Joel,” He scowled, “My fuckin’ family too.”

Joel shook his head, shaking off the shame Tommy was trying to force on him.

“You don’t get to keep this kind of thing from me,” He yelled, “You- You are unbelievable, Joel.”

“Unbelievable?” He mocked, “Is it so unbelievable that I didn’t want to advertise to the whole goddamn town that she was my daughter when, hell, I don’t even know if she really is!”

“Bullshit,” Tommy spat, “You’re not stupid. You knew. Of course, you fucking knew. You knew like how I knew. One look. That’s all it woulda took you. No… you knew. You were just too scared - like always. And that, your selfishness, takes us all down with you.”

“Fuck you,” He grunted, storming back inside.

“Christ,” Tommy mumbled, turning back to his own home. 

You had a baby.

You were here, alive.

x

You steered clear from the group for a little while afterwards. The whole situation made you heart clench. It felt like a game that you didn’t know the rules of, but they did. All of them did and they were careful not to reveal anything. But you wanted to know - you needed to.

You knew it involved Joel or at least you felt like it had to. The way he looked at you when you first met. The way he spoke. The way he shook. It had to be him. He had to be the answer.

You gave up on your attempts to avoid them when you came to that realisation.

The same realisation that brought you here, at his front door in the middle of the night. You shyly knocked a few times - no response. You repeated the action with a little more force, a little too much. The door creaked open on the contact, but no one came to greet you.

You sucked in a harsh breath as you debated entering. The door was open right? Fair game? Silently you forced yourself to step inside.

Their home was dark - one lamp lighting a whole room. You frowned looking over to it. Someone had to be here, right? Where else would they be so late?

And then you saw him. Joel. The contradictory man. He was asleep. His body was sprawled all over the couch, an empty bottle of God knows what lay beside him as did what looked like... a bear?

Shakily, you took a step forward, his name dying in your throat as you saw the bear in a better light.

It was... yours.

Why would Joel have your bear? The bear that when you were a child was essentially an extension of you. The bear that chased away all the bad dreams. The bear that your dad had gotten you - your dad.

You gulped - the bear you hadn’t seen since the night you lost everything. Since the night you almost lost your life.

Joel shifted in his sleep, pulling the bear close to his chest, careful of its head as if it was a baby. Your eyes burned. A gasp escaped your lips. You could read the chapter now. You can see that character’s face - your fathers face.

Different but the same.

“D-dad,” You whispered before you could stop yourself and backed away.

Your back met the door, slamming it shut. The man jolted awake, alarmed eyes frantically searching the room before landing on you. They grew small, weaker, like he wasn’t all the way there.

Joel watched you closely, taking note of your falling tears, he spoke your name. You choked on a sob, hand clasping over your mouth. “Baby,” He shot up before he had a moment to think and approached you.

You didn’t flinch away, like he expected. You didn’t stop crying either. You studied him now. The wrinkles. The scars. The grey hairs. The same look in his eyes.

“How long have you known?”

He flinched at that. Your voice so familiar, so broken. “Since we met,” He didn’t have to try too hard to understand what you were getting at. He felt shameful, though. This shouldn’t have been the way, right? This felt too casual, too unknown.

You wanted to ask more, yell at him. Beg him to tell you why it wasn’t the first thing that he told you. But you didn’t. Instead you put one foot in front of the other, until you were mere inches from him. “Dad,” You shuddered.

He hadn’t realised how much he missed being called that, how much he missed being your dad.

“Babygirl,” He took your face in his hands, “My baby grown up.” He watched you closely, tears welling up, “I’m so sorry, babygirl. I’m sorry.”

You shook your head, slamming yourself into his chest, “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

“Oh, baby,” Joel wrapped his arms around you, hand cradling the back of your head.

“With me, babygirl,” He smiled for moment before letting it fall, “Don’t go away again, babygirl, never go away again.”

You smiled into his chest, whimpering softly, “I won’t, dad, I promise.” 

x

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