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ptergwen · 2 days ago

Note

hiii

so this might me dirty but hear me out

It has gotten to me that mans come can meddle w the woman’s dna

so with this as an inspiration, and I know it’s kinda cliche but

stark!reader suddenly having spider senses or smh (not pregnancy)

oh and it’s for Tom Holland spider man

have an amazing dayy

a parker thing

ask box | taglist | blurb masterlist | main masterlist

w/c: ?

warnings: smut (p in v unprotected, lowkey dom!peter and reader), swearing

a/n: jump scare if you didn't see my post lmao i'm back y'all! i missed u guys and missed writing lots so i’ll be here from time to time again :) i had so much fun with this req thank you for the idea! much love to u all <3

you catch yourself dozing off and jerk your head up instinctively. one short, loud snore passes your lips as you do so, eyes opening wide. you blink your tired eyes a few times as you readjust to the harsh lighting.

ugh, you fell asleep in the lab, something you always chastise peter and your dad for doing. they're notorious for their long hours spent messing around with stark tech. you've lost count of how many times you've woken up to an empty spot in bed where your boyfriend should be, instead finding him fast asleep surrounded by cups of coffee and a delirious tony still on the grind.

tonight, you're the stark who's in the lab past their bedtime. you had the day to yourself and decided to use your free time to upgrade your suit. it had had a few hiccups during the team's last mission, so you wanted to work on it before the next one. what was supposed to be a few minor tweaks turned into a whole day of tweaking.

you scoff at yourself and wipe some drool that crusted onto your chin. oddly enough, you almost instantly refocus on the screen in front of you. it's been like this for most of the day. you're way more concentrated than usual for some reason, more aware. you figure it's because peter has been out on patrol and couldn't distract you.

"are you finished for the night, boss? you aren't usually here this late."

"i know, but i’m gonna stay a little longer. i’ll be done soon...i think."

friday dims the lights directly overhead so they aren't as harsh. you smile.

"thanks, fri."

you sit up in your seat, scooting in closer to the screen displaying your suit. you carefully look over the prototype and pick up a pen to write yourself some notes. when you go to put down the pen, it sticks to your palm. you shake your hand to try to get it off. it stays stuck.

"huh."

you use your other hand to pry the pen off of you.

"weird."

first you have heightened senses, now you're sticky. if you didn't have ordinary stark dna, you'd think you were part arachnid like peter.

you're not sure why, but you suddenly stand up and turn towards the main doors to the lab. they slide open a few seconds later. peter walks inside, spider suit on and mask off. he pads over to you with a soft smile.

"there you are. friday said i could find you down here."

peter pecks your lips and envelopes you in a hug. you sign contentedly, face nuzzled into his neck and arms winding around him.

"yeah, she's probably sick of me. i've been down here all day."

"you're really locked in, huh? how's the suit coming along?"

peter's fingers rub up and down your back ever so lightly. just the small touch practically sends shivers down your spine.

"good. fixed everything and double checked, then triple checked. started adding some new stuff, too."

"new features? like what?"

"you know the one i was telling you about..."

you trail off as peter's hands slide down to your ass. he pulls you in closer to himself, letting his hands rest there. you peek up at him, heart speeding up.

"go on, i’m listening."

peter gives your ass a gentle squeeze. it's an innocent gesture, really, but your senses are going crazy right now and you can't help but to get turned on. you always tease peter about how easily he's turned on. if this is what it feels like for him, now you understand.

"hm, i'm bored of talking about the suit. tell me about patrol."

"it was good! got a lot of action today. i mean, i guess that's not good 'cause that means there's more crime and stuff, but y'know. anyway..."

you stare at peter's lips, but don't listen to a word he's saying. it's the first time today you can't focus. he's pressed right up against you in his damned tight spider suit, and his hands are still on your ass, and you're so hypersensitive and hyper aware. all you can think about is how bad you need him.

"y/n? you okay?"

peter must have noticed you spacing out.

your gaze flicks between his eyes and lips before your own lips wordlessly capture his in a searing kiss. peter lets out a breathy chuckle, caught a bit off guard by your abruptness. he deepens the kiss for a moment, then pulls back with a look of amusement. you bite back a cheeky smile.

"horny."

peter's features form a smirk.

"i got you, baby."

he kisses you again. his tongue tangles with yours, a sigh passing your lips. peter lifts you up, grip becoming firmer on your ass. you wrap your legs around his waist. he kisses down your neck until he finds a spot he wants to mark. you tilt your head to the side so he has more access. peter's lips suck roughly on your skin, teeth nipping at it playfully. you let out a shaky breath.

peter presses one last kiss to what's sure to become a hickey to soothe it. you tilt his chin up towards you again, lips smashing into his, holding him in place by the back of his head. he carries you to the nearest table while your intertwined lips move desperately against each other's. you sneak a hand down to the bulge in his suit, earning a groan.

"one sec, lemme get this off."

peter sets you down on the table and quickly strips off his spider suit. you take your own clothes off and toss them aside, left only in your bra and panties. peter comes to stand between your legs. he slips your panties to the side, middle finger collecting your wetness as he kisses you again. his finger slides into you with ease and begins to pump. you moan into the kiss, tugging at his hair.

"already so wet, baby. don't even have to get you warmed up."

peter's finger curls inside you, cockiness evident in his tone and on his features. you tug on some hair at the nape of his neck.

"stop teasing, parker."

"can't take it when the roles are reversed, stark?"

something takes over you in that moment, the same something that's been coursing through your veins all day. you grab both of peter's hands and hold them in place above his head. your grip is tight around his wrists, too tight for him to break free of it. a noise almost like a growl escapes you.

"shut up and fuck me, or i’ll fuck you."

peter meets your wild eyes, his pupils equally as dilated.

"do it."

you promptly pull peter up to the table with you. you push him back so he lies down, pinning his arms down at his sides. his chest rises and falls, breathless.

"woah, what's gotten into you today? not that i’m complaining, but, woah."

"i know, right? i thought you were supposed to have super strength."

peter grabs you by your hips and sits up, seating you in his lap. you wiggle your hips in his grasp, but he digs his fingers into your sides so you can't move. peter's voice drops low.

"what was that?"

you breathe out a low laugh.

"nothing."

you dip your head down to press your forehead to peter's. he smiles, satisfied with your answer. you wrap your hand around his hard cock and stroke him. peter's lips ghost over yours, his breathing heavy.

"wanna feel you, y/n/n."

peter slides his hands up to your waist so you can move again. you smile knowingly. you slip off your panties before you reposition yourself, your legs on either side of him. you line up peter's cock with your entrance.

"wanna feel you too, pete."

you lower yourself down onto peter. you both let out little sighs and moans as he fills you up.

he always feels so good inside you, but this time is even better, even more intense.

you arch your back to find the right angle, shifting backwards a bit. once you're both comfortable, you begin to roll your hips. peter exhales a breath he was holding, lifting his hips up to help you out. your movements are slow, fluid. peter supports you by the small of your back, eyes hooded and lips parted for air.

"fuck, i'm not gonna last long."

"me neither."

he kisses you, softly but with so much passion. you let your eyes flutter closed and kiss back. you place your feet flat on the table for more stability and straighten your back, starting to bounce on his cock.

"y/n..."

peter's voice comes out almost like a whine. you chuckle at that.

"i know."

you grab onto peter's shoulders for more support as you move, up and down, back and forth. peter leaves sloppy kisses along the side of your neck. the once quiet lab is now filled with both of your moans and the sounds of your wetness every time his cock thrusts into you. you're both so close, and you can hardly hold out any longer.

peter grabs your hips to stop your movements. he takes over, thrusting up into you at the same delicious pace, only he's the one in control. you let out a series of short, high pitched moans, head thrown back as peter's cock hits the right spot in you over and over again.

"that's it, y/n/n. sound so pretty, baby."

peter half speaks and half groans. you reply with your own noise of content, squeezing yourself around his cock as you reach your high. peter is close to his.

"god, fuck."

he's panting. his thrusts speed up a bit until his hips stop moving altogether. he pushes deeper into you with one final moan, his cum filling you up, making you feel warm inside. you both recently agreed he could finish in you; it's a new level of intimacy.

"fuck, baby. woah."

you bury your face in peter's neck in response. you try to catch your breath, falling forward into his arms.

"oh my god, pete. that was..."

"yeah."

peter hugs your waist. he slowly pulls out of you, making you wince at the new emptiness.

"sorry."

he peppers tender kisses to the side of your head. you remove your face from his neck.

"it's okay."

you ruffle peter's hair with a tired smile. he kisses your cheek, smiling back. you give him another peck on his lips. you yawn, today's and tonight's activities catching up with you once again.

"aw, you tired?"

"mhm. you must be, too, spidey."

"exhausted. let's get cleaned up, then we'll go to bed?"

"sounds perfect."

peter helps you down from the table. you quickly step into your panties in case any cum leaks out of you. he picks his suit up off the floor.

"okay, that was insanely good. i mean, it always is, but something was different. i wonder what it was."

peter shimmies into his suit so his lower half is covered. you're putting on the rest of your clothes.

"i don't know, i’ve just been super on my shit today. really focused and stuff."

"explains why you were so locked in on your suit."

"that might just be a stark thing. actually, it's a parker thing too."

you poke peter's chest playfully. you collect some of your things from your work area, some miscellaneous supplies sticking to your palms as you do.

"why does this keep happening?"

peter watches curiously as you huff and shake paper clips off your palms.

"funny, that reminds me of when i first got my powers. took me a while to figure out how to control it, being sticky."

"uh huh. did you spill web fluid last time you were down here or something?"

"i don't think so, but it would have dissolved by now if i did. i haven't been in the lab for a couple days."

"oh. maybe it was someone else."

peter quirks a brow.

"i don't see any web fluid over there, y/n/n."

you turn to face peter.

"so why am i sticky?"

between this, your strength, and your heightened senses, peter puts it together. you have powers.

his spider powers.

"that might also be a parker thing. more specifically, a spider-man thing."

"you don't mean... no."

if peter is saying what you think he's saying, that confirms what you had thought earlier.

"uh, yeah."

peter crosses over to you. your eyebrows knit together.

"we must share some dna."

"but how? that wouldn't be possible unless we were, like, related... ew! please don't tell me we're fucking related!"

"baby, baby." peter laughs softly, taking one of your hands in his. "stop freaking out."

"you should be freaking out too! you were just inside me, peter, fucking me raw! you came in me!"

"exactly."

peter's voice is way too calm for your liking.

"exactly? what do you mean 'exactly'?"

"think about it. sperm is made up of dna."

"so what?"

"well, i wasn't born with this dna. it got mutated by the spider bite. so no, we're definitely not related."

you tentatively soften your gaze, allowing peter to lace his fingers through yours.

"since i got my powers from the mutation, i guess you got them too when i started finishing in you."

you gasp, a playful smile pulling at your lips.

"you mean you mutated my dna? you have radioactive cum?"

"something like that. you're not mad?"

you toy with peter's fingers, looping an arm around his neck.

"nah, it's kind of cool now that i know what it is. you're gonna have to teach me how to use the powers, though."

"of course." peter returns your smile. "now that you've got new powers, you gotta rebrand. maybe you could call yourself spider-woman."

"you'd like that, wouldn't you? come up with something more original."

peter's arms wrap around your middle, smile growing into a toothy grin.

"you could also use mrs. parker. it's gonna be your name someday, anyways."

you put your other arm around peter's neck with a laugh.

"mrs. parker, i like that."

(too lazy to use tags lmao)

#peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker x reader #peter parker x stark!reader #peter parker x you #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker fic #peter parker imagine #mcu peter parker #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #tom holland au

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ittybxttykxttytxtty · 5 hours ago

Text

“Sorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.”

He knows a little too much for a bookshop worker.....marc, why do you know this?

“I think you were testing me because you wanted me to find you. You want me more than you want to admit,” he said. Your mouth fell open, but you couldn't speak. “Otherwise, why push me to look for you? Why hang out in one of your favorite shops knowing I could easily track you down?”

Oh...he's delusional. So very delusional. It shouldn't be this amusing. 😂 I bet he's saying that shit while pulling this look too:

“Are you listening to what I'm saying? I said I want to call it an early night.” You moved to stand, your limbs tired from sitting. “For someone who claims to care, you don't take my feelings into consideration.”

Her lines of frustration are my absolute favorites. Like damn, it's like talking to a wall and I felt that. She should turn him on and off, maybe that will restart that nogging of his. 😂😂😂

The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. “I think he went out back for a quick break.”

In his series and this fanfic series, Marc is still getting smacked down-ed. (Assuming this is moon knight Marc, that is)

“Where's Ray?”

This. This will be Bucky and R the whole time. Shit will really go down if Ray decides to betray them. Because damn, this man knows too much about them. 😬

“I’m the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,” he replied against your skin.

Sir, this is a Wendy's. Wrap up that simp behaviour and let the girl breathe. 😭😭😭

Hold You Tight: Part 6

Pairing: Club Owner!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: The owner of The 107th wants you to be his girl whether you like it or not.

Part 5 | Series Masterlist | Part 7

Chapter Summary: You're determined to have a quiet rest of the day without seeing or thinking about Bucky.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.5k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, stalking, inner conflict, insecurities, manipulation, possessiveness, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: More Hold You Tight! Hope you lovelies continue to enjoy. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo. ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You sat in the tub, the cascading water from the shower head flowing over you as you stared at the opposite wall. Normally you welcomed the heat and billowing steam, but you shivered the longer you stayed there. The sound of the water droplets couldn't drown out Bucky’s moans or words from your mind.

“I’m so hard for you. And you’re wet for me, aren’t you? Fuck, I wish I was there to take care of you.”

“You’ll take it. You’ll take me. Like a good girl.”

“Wish I was there to help clean you up and get you dirty all over again.”

With a groan, you leaned your head against the wall. The man jerked off to the thought of you. No one ever desired you like that, at least not that you knew of. More than that he wanted you in his home. By his side. Why? You couldn't grasp why he wanted you so badly.

You also couldn't deny that his words got to you, if your wet your underwear was anything to judge by when you peeled them off. Were you so desperate for a semblance of affection that a few dirty words from a terrifying man turned you on? What did that say about you?

Just like the last couple of days, that was too much to unpack.

“I’m not special,” you whispered.

You could practically see Bucky across from you with sadness in his eyes, the way he looked at you when you argued last night that you weren't special. He didn't believe that for a second. Quite the opposite. He saw something in you that others didn't. Wasn't that what you wanted deep down? To be seen? Cherished?

Not like this.

“Get up,” you muttered, carefully getting to your feet. You weren't going to sit there and feel sorry for yourself. Things could always be worse. All things considered, Bucky hadn't hurt you. Hadn't lied to you either, as far as you knew. Which made your heart ache at that thought of leaving your place behind.

If Bucky kept his promise and forced you to move in, what would you tell your friends? Would they think you were crazy for moving so fast or would they not question it at all because Bucky was rich, handsome, and they would assume he made you happy? You’d say what you had to if it meant keeping them safe, but feared it could possibly put up a wall between you and the group since you couldn't tell them the full truth. Maybe his intention was to drive you away from them and bring you closer to him.

Your head began to ache from the overanalyzing. “I’m not going to think about Bucky Barnes.” Shutting the water off, you pushed the questions and scenarios as far from your mind as possible as you went about the rest of your morning. The rest of the day would be routine, normal, nothing out of the ordinary.

Naturally, Bucky messaged you once you finished getting dressed to prove you wrong. “Thinking of you. Are you thinking of me?”

You swallowed dryly as you typed back to him. It was like he knew you were trying to forget about everything. “I think you want me to think about you.”

It didn't take him long to respond. “Of course, I do. I hope you’re thinking about our chat from earlier and when we can finish it.” The man didn't want to just get in your head. He wanted to get under your skin. “Is it too much to ask for a photo? You have such a beautiful smile.”

You scoffed both from the audacity and boldness. It wasn't enough that he pleasured himself while talking to you, he wanted a photo of you, too? He specifically noted your smile. Was it really beautiful? “Just because you sent me photos of you in your jackets doesn't mean I have to send photos back.”

“Pretty please?”

It was almost cute. “Not today. Sorry, Bucky.”

“That’s okay. Was worth a shot. Maybe I can convince you to let me take a photo when I see you tonight.”

You froze. There it was. Not “if” he’d see you tonight, but “when”. There was no stopping him, was there? Maybe it was that thought that possessed you to goad him because you couldn't otherwise explain why you sent what you did. “You won’t see me because I have plans. But tell you what. If by any chance you do see me tonight, I’ll let you take a photo.”

You blinked and reread your message. Why did you do that? Sending that was as stupid as it was impulsive and would only encourage him.

“Is that a challenge or a promise?”

Your stomach twisted in knots, but you sent one last reply. “It’s whatever you want it to be.”

Bucky was so convinced he’d see you and there was a good chance he would, but you’d make him work for it a little. You wouldn't stick around your apartment. That would probably be the first place he’d look for you.

Catch me if you can.

Your shift went as normal as could be. Steady enough to keep you busy, but not feel overwhelmed. No difficult customers. No surprise visits from Bucky either, though you kept waiting for him to walk through the door.

There was no relief though once you clocked out since you had no idea where you'd hide out for the rest of the day. Everyone you reached out to was busy. Addison, of course, was going out to dinner with Brady and you didn't bother messaging her. Dana had a double date with another of your friends. The rest all had romantic evenings planned, too. They apologized like always.

Was it bad that you were kind of used to it?

A message from Bucky appeared the second you stepped out of the shop. “Any chance you’ll give me a clue where you’ll be?”

You sighed, a sense of weariness seeping in that you couldn't blame on work. “Not a chance.”

“Should I go find you now? I’m a little bored.”

Your gaze darted from left to right. Was he already nearby somewhere watching? “If you're bored, read a book.”

A smile crossed your face when you suddenly thought about where to go. You told yourself earlier you didn't want to think about Bucky for the rest of the day. What better way than to distract yourself with a book? And what better place than your favorite bookstore, Turn the Page?

Before you tucked your phone away, you turned the GPS off just in case Bucky had a way to get access to it. You wouldn't put it past him to try. You wouldn't take your normal route either. It was crazy to think things like a routine could be a bad thing, but Bucky made you question everything.

Walking through the city, you occasionally glanced back over your shoulder to make sure no one was following you. No one looked your way, too occupied with their own agendas as they shuffled around you. Something still felt off, goosebumps forming on your arms and your heart sinking as you felt a pair of steel eyes on you.

You didn't realize you stopped walking until someone nearly collided with you. “I’m so sorry,” you said, giving you the push you needed to move again. Quickening your pace, you reminded yourself it was still light out. People were around. Even if Bucky was following you, what would he do?

You moved forward and didn't look back until you found yourself at the bookstore, taking a calming breath before you walked in. Turn the Page had a cozy and peaceful atmosphere with a range from classic to modern stories. You could spend hours there and feel perfectly at home.

“Hey, Marc,” you smiled at the man behind the counter.

“Hey. Good to see you,” Marc smiled back. He took over the bookstore over a year ago. Friendly for the most part and took pride in the shop. “Anything I can help you find? Just finished setting up some new releases.”

“No thanks,” you replied, selecting a thick romance novel that would pass the time. “I was just going to hang around and read for a bit if you don't mind.”

“Not at all. Can I get you anything to drink or eat? Coffee? Baked good?” He offered, nodding to the tiny cafe area in the corner.

“Just water for now, please,” you said. You probably needed to eat, but you’d wait for your nerves to fully settle. “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, what’s up?” He asked, going to grab you your drink as you followed.

“Have you heard of The 107th?” You asked. You weren't sure what possessed you to do so. Maybe it was because he seemed like a neutral person to talk to.

“The nightclub?” Mark eyed you curiously. “That doesn't seem like your scene.”

“I’ve only been once. A friend's bachelorette party over a month ago,” you explained, assuming he meant it wasn't your type of scene since you weren't a party girl. “But I may have met the owner recently.”

Marc kept a neutral expression, but noticeably paused before he handed the glass over. “You met Bucky Barnes?”

“Yeah,” you answered, shifting on your feet. “Do you know him?”

He busied himself by cleaning the counter. “Yeah, I know him,” he said, your chest tight. How? “Well, I wouldn't say I know him well. I’ve only met him a couple of times. A lot of the local owners have since he has a hand in quite a few endeavors. Donates to the local hospital and charities, too.”

“That’s nice,” you croaked, taking a sip. If he had a hand in local businesses, was it possible that he met your boss? “He seemed very driven when I spoke to him.”

“That he is,” he agreed, tossing the rag away. “Also dangerous,” he added under his breath.

“Dangerous?” You repeated. The man threatened your loved ones, but why would Marc call him that?

He paused to look at you, his eyes wider than before. “Yeah, but you’re too sweet to get mixed up in any of that, so forget I said anything. Please,” he urged. You wished you could. “He hasn't been poking around your shop, has he?”

“Not that I’m aware of,” you said. You hoped not.

“Sorry, I just assumed since you said you met him. Wouldn't surprise me if he stops in soon though with the anniversary coming up and all.”

“Anniversary of what?” You asked.

“His family. They…” He trailed off when the phone rang at the counter. “Sorry. I need to get back to work.”

“That’s okay. I’ll just start my book,” you said, going to take a seat on the other side of the shop. You took your usual spot on the couch and wished you hadn't said anything. Marc knew Bucky enough to say he was dangerous. And why would he eventually poke around your shop? Anniversary… Flowers…

“I wish you could've met my mom. She would've loved you.”

“She’s gone and that’s a topic for another day.”

You settled further into the couch with a huff. Bucky’s family and endeavors were none of your business. You weren't going to question it any further. You were going to sit and enjoy your book.

That was exactly what you did.

A few customers went in and out of the shop as you lost yourself in the story. It was easy to imagine snuggling with the hero as he whispered how much he loved you and always would. The sweet sort of romance that brought a smile to your face and allowed you to relax against the cushions. You were surprised you didn't fall asleep.

What time was it anyway?

“How’s the book?”

A shiver rolled over you as you peered up from the page and saw Bucky standing in front of you. He wore the blue jacket and his eyes stood out just as you said they would. Where you expected to see triumph in his gaze, there was only curiosity and awe. Like he happened to bump into you by accident instead of intentionally.

“What are you doing here?” You whisper shouted, not wanting to draw attention. While it wasn't a complete shock that he managed to find you, it was a miracle your heart hadn't given out from how fast it pounded over the last couple of days. “How did you find me?”

Did he actually follow you?

He smiled a little. “You’re the one who told me to read a book since I was bored,” he said, taking a seat beside you and slipping his arm around you. You tensed as he pulled you close, but he merely rubbed your arm with his gloved hand until you relaxed. “And finding you was just a process of elimination. I know you didn't go back to your place after you left this morning and there aren't too many places you like to venture by yourself in the city.”

“And just how do you know I didn't go back to my apartment?” You asked.

“I may or may not have an eye on the building,” he said casually. It could've been a joke or serious answer, neither of which were a laughing matter. “Or maybe you knew that would be the first place I’d try to look for you, so you decided to avoid it.”

You bit your tongue. That was exactly what you did. “Or maybe I wouldn't be there since I was supposed to go out.”

He nodded. “You were supposed to go out, but your plans fell through, didn't they?” He asked sympathetically. You didn't want his pity. “If I had to guess, they fell through even before we talked this morning.”

“My original plans fell through, yes,” you confirmed.

He hummed. “Were you embarrassed to tell me?”

You wrung your fingers together. There was no reason for you to feel bad for not telling him. You didn't owe him anything because he wasn't your boyfriend. “No,” you whispered.

“Did it just slip your mind when we talked?” He teased. At least he didn't sound upset or disappointed. Why wasn't he upset? Was he testing you?

“No. I just wanted a night off from being…” you trailed off, not sure how he would react in public to something he didn't want to hear. And what was it a night off from exactly? Being his new girlfriend?

He scratched along his chin, drawing attention to the gray hairs. “You know what I think?” He asked.

“I have no idea,” you replied.

“I didn't…” You took a breath. You didn't want him to chase after you. That wasn't it. “I didn't push.”

“Moyo Kotyonok, you dared me with that message and you know it,” he smirked.

Biting your lip, you didn't deny it any further since he was partially right. You egged him on by offering to let him take a photo if he found you, which wasn't smart. If you had real plans, you wouldn't have done that. But you didn't do it because you wanted him to find you or wanted him in general.

You didn't.

“But we can talk about that later,” he said, gentler than you expected. “I’m sorry about your plans. What happened?”

You finally closed the book in your lap and exhaled. “Addison and I were supposed to hang out, but she’s going out to dinner with her fiancé instead,” you explained.

He narrowed his eyes. “So, she ditched you,” he said, disappointment finally seeping into voice.

You shook your head. “No, she didn't ditch me. We rescheduled,” you argued, quick to defend her. She didn't maliciously blow you off. “Things come up. It happens.”

Bucky smiled softly. “You stuck up for her immediately. I admire that,” he said, shifting to face you more. He practically crowded you. “Why not hang out with another friend?”

You looked at your lap. What was he playing at? “Because my friends are busy,” you whispered. It hurt to say it and it shouldn't. It was just a downside of being the single one in a group of friends who had significant others. No one was obligated to keep their schedules open in case you wanted to hang out.

He tilted your head up. Why wouldn't he just let you hide? “Just so you know, I will never be too busy for you,” he whispered. It wasn't fair that he looked at you like you mattered. “You’re my top priority.”

You ignored the warm sensation that spread from your heart. So many people made you an option. “I shouldn't be,” you whispered.

“But you are and that isn't going to change,” he said, steadfast as always. “And since this shop is going to close soon, why not go to the club with me? It'll be fun.”

You gestured to your comfortable outfit. “I’m not dressed for your club. Besides, I was going to call it an early night after I left.”

His eyes roamed your body with interest before he shrugged and took the book from your lap. “I have that dress waiting for you, but you can wear whatever you want since you look beautiful in anything.”

He reached to grab your hand and took it before you could walk away. “I care more than anyone else,” he whispered vehemently before he took a breath, his eyes burning with passion as he stood up, too. “I’m not ignoring your feelings. It’s a compromise. We won't stay long, so come with me.”

“Thank you for the offer,” you began, trying to put out the fire in his eyes. “But why would I want to go to your club when all I want to do is read and relax?”

“Do I need to remind you that some of my friends will be there and they still want to meet you?” He asked, gently guiding you toward the front of the store. “And I can take your right back to your place after so you can rest. You'll still have an early night.”

He considered that a compromise? “But I-”

“You’ll be in bed before 10. You have my word.” He walked you toward the exit, past the remaining customers, and gave the associate behind the counter a smile before you could protest. “And don't worry about the book. I paid for it.”

“Wait, where’s Marc?” You asked. You hadn't spoken to him since your earlier conversation.

The associate looked at Bucky before she smiled. “I think he went out back for a quick break.”

“Before closing?” You asked.

“Let’s go,” Bucky said, heading out the door with you.

He helped you into the car by the curb as you were still catching up to what was happening. He effortlessly coaxed you out of a store with people around and into a car, alone. The man had no fear.

“Where's Ray?” You asked since the partition was up. “Shocked you didn't send him in to get me.”

“He actually offered, but I wanted to go in myself,” Bucky replied, chuckling at your expression. “And don't worry. He's close by.”

You huffed and stared at the garment bag where your dress waited when he put an arm back around you. “I just wanted some peace and quiet tonight.” But he got you right where he wanted you.

“Like I said, you'll meet my friends and you’ll be in bed by 10.” Bucky dragged his nose along your throat and inhaled your scent. Your eyes closed, but your body didn't freeze up the way you expected it to. “We’ll both get what we want.”

What you wanted didn't matter. “Bucky?”

“Yeah, doll?”

You closed your eyes. “Just how dangerous are you?”

“I’m the most dangerous man in the city, but you're safe with me,” he replied against your skin.

“And what if your friends don't like me?” You asked.

“You have nothing to worry about. They’ll love you,” he promised, bringing his head up to kiss your temple. “But no one will ever love you more than I do.”

Love.

You shuddered. You weren't sure what you feared more. That his friends would love you enough to help keep you by his side or how much Bucky claimed to love you. Because there was nothing more dangerous than a powerful man in love.

Which friend do we think is the most excited to see you with Bucky? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

#bucky barnes x reader #reread

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megalony · 17 hours ago

Text

Merciless Wrath

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine requested by anon, thank you all for the lovely feedback on my Gladiator fics so far. I hope you will all like it.

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Summary: Geta loves how timid his wife is when it comes to watching the Gladiators. But Hell rises when one of the fighters decides to shoot an arrow and hits the Empress.

Enjoy.

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If there was one thing Geta knew would get the people's spirits up and gain both Emperors some favour with their people, it was his wife.

The people's Empress.

Geta had never seen the people rejoice so much as when he married (Y/n). The people loved her; they admired her and her calm nature and philisophic words and how she could settle any argument and bring a sense of calm to Rome.

Which was one of the reasons he had asked her to come to the colosseum today. The people were rejoicing, Rome had expanded her victories and gained another country to govern and rule over. This was a week of victory games of all makes and sizes and extravagance and Geta knew the people would be even more hyped and excited if their Empress showed up.

It hadn't taken much for Geta to convince (Y/n) to come to the games. He knew fighting wasn't something (Y/n) enjoyed to watch. Seeing blood spill over the sand and limbs being torn and discarded. Guts being exposed and spilled onto the floor, screams of anguish and the stench of death. It was all overwhelming and disgruntling for (Y/n) to witness.

She didn't see the pleasurable side of watching men fight to the death and maim and torture one another. She didn't feel that pleasurable ecstasy that her husband and brother in law did when they watched the games.

But (Y/n) didn't want to oppose her husband. He had asked her so sweetly if she would attend the games and be there by his side. How could (Y/n) refuse? When Rome had just expanded her victories and both Emperors were celebrating and being praised, it was (Y/n)'s place to be here beside them. She couldn't stay back in the palace and miss out on the games when she should be showing her support and appreciation.

Which was why she was now stood in the viewing box in the colosseum, her hand entwined with Geta's and her cheek resting comfortably on his shoulder while she tucked herself close into his side. Her right hand curled around his exposed arm and she leant into his side as they overlooked the arena.

She couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips when she glanced up at her husband. The smile he wore was somewhat wicked but devilishly so and it made his eyes narrow and crease as he looked onto their subjects. His lips were painted a pale shade of red and his features were the colour of milk with dark circles drawn around his eyes like a lunar eclipse.

His golden hair was neatly framed around his forehead and ears and the glittering crown he always wore was nestled neatly into his hair, making him every inch a God amongst humans.

(Y/n) liked the way Geta's rings flashed in the bright sunlight when he waved to the people, and the cuff on his left wrist which shone and sparkled like a twinkling star in the middle of the day.

Once the cheering of the crowds simmered down, they each took a step back towards the chairs set out for them. As always, (Y/n) took the centre chair so she was in between both Emperors.

It was so eerily strange to see the way Geta would sit straight with his chin pointed out and a stoic expression. Whereas when (Y/n) looked to her right at Caracalla, he sat like a child. One leg crossed over the other, slouched down in his seat with that sweet smile and his hands tapping away on the arm rests or clapping, depending on how exciteable he was.

Once she was sat down, (Y/n) leaned towards the left so she was nearer to Geta. She liked how, without taking his eyes off the colosseum, he slid his right hand towards her until his fingers curled around her own. He began to glide his thumb along the side of her hand and he squeezed every now and then while his other hand began to run along his chin and down the side of his neck.

"Okay?" He muttered and cast his eyes to the right to look over at (Y/n). Her smile dazzled him and he loved the feeling of her other hand moving so her fingers could trail up and down his arm that she was leaning against.

"Hm." She nodded and leant over to peck his cheek, an action that caused blood to rush to the surface beneath his painted skin.

(Y/n) wasn't going to be watching the games today. She would sit here and show support, but she would only be glancing down at the scene every now and then. She didn't mind seeing the start, the men gearing up to attack and the beginning of them toying and playing the part. But once the blood splattered and wounds were inflicted, (Y/n) would be looking away.

"Did I tell you that you look beautiful today?" Those words, whispered against the side of (Y/n)'s temple took her by surprise.

She could feel her heart igniting in her chest, especially when Geta kissed her temple and nudged his nose against her skin before he leaned back in his chair again.

She turned to face him, noticing that his gaze was trained dead ahead as the first gladiators were being announced, but he spared her a glance when he felt her staring. And the sight of her smiling bashfully made Geta's lips quirk up to one side.

"You might have mentioned it once or twice." (Y/n) was sure he had told her at least four times already, but each time he did he made her heart fluctuate and had adrenaline swarming through her system.

When the first game began, (Y/n) tried to watch. She clenched her hand around Geta's and sat forward in her seat to try and see properly. She may as well show an interest until the wounds started to become inflicted and she would have to look away.

It was soothing to feel Geta's hand periodically squeezing hers and how his fingers would dance and tap against her skin like he had far too much energy or as if he wanted to join in the games. That would be too dangerous, of course, but (Y/n) had seen Geta when he trained. He was a vision with a sword and even more so with that devilish smile and his opponent on their knees begging for their life.

It didn't take long for the blood to be shed.

A few minutes, if that, of prancing around the arena, taking little jibes and swipes at each other. That all came to an end when the shorter fighter made a move and sliced a cut against his opponent's arm.

(Y/n) was okay for the first minute or two, being in this viewing box game the perfect angle and view of all the colosseum, but it did have the advantage of being high up and far off. She didn't have to see the wounds up close or see the damage clearly.

But being up here did mean that when one man struck his sword right through the other's abdomen, (Y/n) saw the blade come out flush the other side of the man's back.

Her stomach churned and she did her best to steel her expression while she turned to look at Geta instead.

He was used to it by now. In fact, Geta loved that whenever they witnessed the games, he would always find his wife staring at him. It was enticing and invigorating to watch the games knowing that his wife had decided to study his features instead.

He would often turn and see her smiling at him or find a lost, dazed look in her eyes. Sometimes he felt (Y/n) lean her chin on his shoulder and she would begin to trace the scars, marks and freckles on his skin. She would draw patterns across his skin and leave little kisses here and there and simply get lost looking at him until the games came to an end.

(Y/n) shuddered a little when Caracalla's excited chanting of "Kill him!" broke through the air, but she managed a smile and kept her eyes on Geta. Who leaned forward to watch the gladiator's demise.

(Y/n) kept drifting her eyes around the arena and then looking back to her husband as the next game began.

These two opponents were more rugged and ruthless than the last. They began by roaring and baring their sharpened, blackened teeth and they wasted no time in using the instruments they had been given to beat one another.

She found it interesting how easily these men were willing to fight, knowing they had a high chance of death. Their morals were very disgruntled, in (Y/n)'s opinion.

She turned her head at the wrong moment.

Her eyes cast down to the arena at the precise moment one man sliced his sword through the other's arm. His hand and wrist fell to the floor in one swift movement and a large splurt of blood began to paint the sand.

A gasp broke past (Y/n)'s lips and she quickly spun to the left as a tremor rattled through her. Both hands surged up to deadlock in Geta's robes and she buried her face into his chest, not caring how childish it made her look or who saw her.

A crooked grin spread across Geta's lips and he took the time to look down at his cherished wife before he looked back at the arena. He slouched back in his chair just a little and moved his right hand until his hand was cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck and he could weave his fingers into her tendrils of hair. His touch was light and soft and he tilted his head down to peck the top of her head while his other hand began to glide up and down her arm.

It pleased him how she stuck to him and burrowed into him when she didn't want to witness the massacre. It made him feel loved and protective over her, how she sought comfort in him like this.

His fingers continued to stroke through her hair and his thumb brushed the back of her neck. His other hand remained on her arm, drawing patterns and creating a distraction for her to focus on while his sights remained on the game.

Although Geta's eyes did glance down towards his wife when he felt her move. She finally pulled her face up from where she was burrowed into his chest so she could stare up at him with her chin pressing lightly against his sternum. His hand remained still at the back of her neck and he inclined his head to the side, silently urging her to speak.

"I- I'm sorry, I can't watch-"

"Don't apologise for not having a violent heart. It's endearing." Each word was murmured against her temple and it caused (Y/n)'s stomach to jump with delight.

He found her lack of violence endearing. He loved how she shied away into him and couldn't bear to watch the torment and slaughter. He loved how compassionate his wife was and how she was being herself so freely before him and their people.

Once the fight finally ended and what was left of both men were dragged from the arena, (Y/n) pushed up from Geta's chest, but she stayed close to his side. She sat with one leg crossed over the other and her body leaning to the left so she was able to move both hands and curl them around Geta's arm.

Her eyes flitted about the arena and the colosseum, taking in the sights of the people cheering, leering and sitting forward in their seats to witness the next game with vigor.

Her fingers began to tap and parade across Geta's arm in an attempt to keep her mind off the next fight happening down in the arena. Every now and then, (Y/n) snook a glance at the fighters. There were more of them this time. Six gladiators, all with different weapons.

They were spaced around the arena, clearly trying to perform a longer fight to gain more attention from the crowds and create a more sumptous fight.

Some had shields, a few had swords or small thin blades. And one had a bow and arrow. That seemed unfair. Such a unique instrument needed distance to be used, but if the other gladiators got too close, it wouldn't be easy to hit them with an arrow. The instrument would have to be used like a spear instead and impaled by hand to make a difference.

This game seemed to be fuelled by chaos. (Y/n) pulled away from Geta a little so she could look down on the gladiators. They were moving too fast to keep an eye on who was who and which one had which weapon.

Blood painted the sand but the wounds were inflicted too fast for anyone to see who had been hit and where.

There seemed to be confusion around the colosseum, but (Y/n) couldn't make head nor tail of anything that was happening. She could hear Caracalla's fingers drumming away on the wooden arm rests of his chair, clearly becoming impatient and possibly a little riled up. And she knew Geta was sat up straight once again with his head tilted forward so he could try and decipher the game and who the victor might be.

Raised voices started to brood within the arena, but (Y/n) couldn't work out why, and she wasn't so sure anyone else in the colosseum understood either. No one knew why people were shouting from within the tunnels and windows within the base of the arena. No one knew why people were trying to open the gates when only one gladiator had fallen so far.

But then it happened.

An arrow, shot from one gladiator in the arena which wasn't aimed at any of his opponents.

The glimmering silver arrowhead pierced the sky like a bolt of lightning but it was so fast no one really saw it move. They only heard the wind breaking apart as the arrow broke through the amosphere.

(Y/n) had no time to move or gasp or even see what was happening before it was too late. The arrow hit her. The sharpened metal arrowhead pierced through her skin and hit her with such force that her body shifted and her back slammed back into the chair.

Her head slammed back into the wooden chair with enough force to cause her vision to blackout. Her body trembled but somehow stayed rigid in place and her heels slammed down into the floor as if to steady herself.

She screamed. A horrible, deafening sound that cut Geta right to the core as if the arrow had impaled him instead.

Geta twisted to the right, both hands grappling with the arm rest as he leaned over his chair to look at his wife. It was hard to keep his eyes on (Y/n) when he could hear everything else going on around them and he was desperate to look around the colosseum. He wanted to see the gladiators, to work out which one had stepped so far out of line that they were already dead. He wanted to see if people were trying to move and get closer or if they were trying to evacuate the colosseum.

But when he forced his darkened eyes to look at his wife, all the air seemed to block Geta's throat and his chest convulsed as his nose crinkled in unbridled horror.

Someone had shot his wife. An arrow had been aimed at them, right at the viewing box where no one was supposed to be able to reach or harm them from up here. An arrow had been aimed with such precision that it had pierced (Y/n)'s skin rather than simply passing her by or hitting the chair or the glasses of wine beside them.

Had they been aiming for (Y/n), or simply trying to hit anyone in the viewing box? It didn't really matter. Whoever shot this arrow had sealed their own fate. Geta would take heads for this.

He could hear Caracalla screaming and it only enraged him further. He didn't need people screaming, he needed them to help.

(Y/n) emmitted another scream before Geta even dared to reach his hand closer to the wound. Her body began to tremble but all Geta could do was stare at the arrow impaled in her skin.

It had gone completely through and come out the other side and the end of the arrow was imbedded in the wooden chair. She was pinned; skewered like a piece of butchered meat. It was two inches below her shoulder, just above her collar bone.

The sight of the blood was what made Geta's stomach churn. Blood and guts never bothered him, it was a sight he somewhat craved to see. But never like this. A droplet of his wife's blood being spilled in such a manner made him feel sickened. It was abhorant.

When (Y/n) screamed again and her body broke out in trembles, Geta scrambled out of his seat and moved so he was hovering in front of her. Slightly hunkered down until their knees were touching and he was all that she could see. Becoming a protective shield in front of her, just in case any more arrows or weapons were shot their way.

"G-Geta… oow…" A broken whine left (Y/n)'s wet lips as she looked from her husband to the arrow imbedded in her skin.

It hurt. It hurt so much. All the blood pumping around her body seemed to be circulating to her shoulder and no where else. All she could feel was the trickling of blood slithering down her chest and the agony that was throbbing in her shoulder and throughout her chest.

She couldn't stop the shaking that was making her rattle back and forth against the chair.

Had this ever happened to anyone before? Had any other Empress or Emperor been subjected to such cruelty whilst watching the games like this? She was supposed to be safe up here, protected. The gladiators shouldn't be aiming up here, they knew better, they knew they would be tortured for even attempting this. Let alone managing to wound anyone of royal blood like this.

"Okay, okay stay still. Shh, love."

Geta reached a tense, cold hand up so he could cup the side of (Y/n)'s face that was stained with tears and becoming flushed and glistening with sweat with each passing second.

His other hand gripped her right arm with fever and he tried to look at the wound.

What was he supposed to do? How was he supposed to help her? He had no knowledge of this. Geta was trained and brought up on how to rule and govern his people, not on how to treat fatal wounds such as this.

"Get a healer!" Geta's voice boomed and echoed off the stone walls and his face started to turn scarlet, rising through the painted white make up that became almost non-existent compared to the amount of blood rushing to the surface.

His lips began to blush and his teeth sank down into his lower lip until blood was sticking to his teeth and welling up over his lips.

He was glad when everyone in the viewing box began to dissipate. Caracalla was guided out with Acacius and his wife while the two Senates at the back of the box left almost immediately, trying to push their way out first as if they feared a stray arrow aiming for them.

Only two guards remained in the box and Geta found the urge to dismiss them. They had been rendered useless. They hadn't helped stop the gladiator from causing this or stopping the arrow from hitting the Empress. They couldn't do much help now.

Another wave of tears poured down (Y/n)'s face and she tried to lean her cheek into Geta's palm, but she couldn't focus on anything but the pain. Her vision was starting to blurr before her and she could scarcely make out the golden hues of Geta's hair and robes. He was starting to look like a mirage in before her.

Geta scanned his eyes around the box, looking in vain to find something useful but he wasn't even sure what he was searching for.

How could he help her? What could he do? What was here that he could use to his advantage to make this better until the healer arrived?

There was a cloth resting on the table beneath a bowl of dried fruits and a pitcher of wine. With one swift pull, Geta tore the cloth from beneath the bowls and pushed up higher so he was level with the wound that was making him sick to his stomach.

"Okay, sweetheart I need to stop the bleeding."

(Y/n) seemed to both understand and confuse what Geta was saying at the same time. For when he scrunched up the cloth and pressed it down around the arrow, her mind seemed to short-circuit. Her body writhed as much as she could with her upper half pinned to the chair and her body turning on fire with each passing second.

A dribble of blood trickled past her lips when Geta pressed down hard on the wound and something feeble and croaky whined at the back of her throat. Both her hands moved to grip Geta's wrist and she tried in vain to push him back, to get him to relent because the feeling was agony. The pressure was too much, it felt like he was forcing the arrow further into the wound.

She didn't care if she bled out, she just needed everything to stop.

Her nails scratched into his wrist and she tried to push forward until the searing pain caused a white noise to blister in her ears.

"Shh, shh I'm sorry. I'm sorry I have to." The last thing Geta wanted was to hurt her, but he couldn't just sit here and let her bleed out.

He could feel tears welling in his eyes as he moved his right hand to press down on (Y/n)'s good shoulder while his other hand tried to keep the cloth pressed around the arrow that was making him feel infuriated with each passing second.

The cloth was turning red. The same shade as the silk woven into his robes. What was once crystal white was now splotched red and soon the entire cloth would be one big mess or crimson. It was a sight that churned Geta's stomach.

The harder he pressed, the more blood he could feel coating his fingers and becoming stuck beneath his nails like tar. And the more blood that coated his hand, the worse Geta began to feel.

He was going to lose her.

He was going to lose the most important person in his life simply because he didn't know what to do and someone had decided to hurt her. She didn't deserve this. That arrow should have been impaled into Geta, not her. Not his Empress.

When the word "Hurts," spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips, a choked sound emmitted from Geta in response. He could feel his heartbeat throbbing beneath his skin as he moved his hand back up to cradle the side of her face now that she wasn't thrashing or moving in her chair.

Instead, (Y/n)'s right hand was shakily clasped around Geta's wrist and her other hand was now gripping his other elbow. Her feet were scraping into the stone floor to try and steady herself while her back merged up against the back of the chair. Her chin tilted down as blood and saliva froffed past her lips and tears drenched her face.

Each breath she took made a horrible gasping, wheezing sound and her chest rose and fell so shallow Geta barely noticed the movements.

"Where's the healer?!" His voice raged out as his head snapped to look behind the chair his wife was now pinned against so he could see the two useless guards.

Why wasn't a healer here already? Why wasn't his wife already being seen to? What were they even doing?

"Emperor we- we don't have those kind of healers here in the colosseum."

The only healers they had at the colosseum were the basic ones. It wasn't in their interests to try and save every gladiator that got mortally wounded here in the colosseum. They patched up those who were fit to fight another day and they sent those who weren't down to the cells to live out their last hours.

The kind of healer the Emperor needed was one that would usually be on standby at the palace for the Royals or those who had enough money to pay for that kind of healing. Healers like that didn't wait around the colosseum, no one here had the means to pay for them.

"Then get one!"

They needed to speed up. They needed to get that healer now or heads were going to roll down the steps of the palace if the Empress wasn't saved. Geta would burn down all of Rome if his wife wasn't healed in time. Either they saved her or many of Rome would lose their lives.

When (Y/n)'s hand tightened around Geta's wrist, he looked back up at her with furrowed brows. He was met with frightened, watering eyes that made his stomach clench and had his chest tightening and wavering.

A bubbling cry left (Y/n)'s lips as she tried to tilt her head forward more towards Geta. Her fingers were leaving bruises on his wrist, but he didn't relent from the pressure he was applying to her wound. He couldn't. He wouldn't let her bleed out here and now. Not like this.

Pushing forward, he moved his hand round to cup the back of her neck and he attached his lips to her temple as he tried to think. He hushed each breath against her flushed temple, trying in vain to calm her down just a little while a thought came to his mind.

He tightened his hand around the back of (Y/n)'s neck and gently inched her head forward until her temple was pressing into his shoulder. It allowed him to look over her back and see the back of the wound. Blood was already soaked into the back of her dress and leaving a trail down her waist.

He couldn't let her bleed out in this chair.

He finally released the pressure from her wound so he could hold his hand out at his side and click his fingers towards one of the guards.

"Knife, now."

When one of them handed him the thin knife that had been resting by the fruit bowl, Geta moved it down towards the arrow.

He heard (Y/n) mutter his name in confusion, each strangled breath fanning against his shoulder so he could feel her hot breath on his skin. Her lips were burrowed against his shoulder, dampening down her cries as she was too distressed and dazed to try and lift her head to find out what her husband was trying to do.

A howl left (Y/n)'s lips and her body began to tremble and writhe when she felt the arrow move. It was only a small jolt up and down but it was enough to set fire to her nerves that felt like they were shrivelling up into nothing.

But she was surprised when she flopped against Geta and felt no resistance. Her body wasn't being pinned back anymore. When she leant forward, her body followed her head and she fell into Geta's chest with a thud and her left arm weakly curved around the back of his neck. While her other arm stayed pinned between their chests, too agonised to lift the limb very far.

Geta cut the end of the arrow. He couldn't care less about the arrowhead that was still imbedded in the chair. He just had to free his wife so he could remove her from here and find a healer.

He had to move her now.

"Find me that healer." His words were dangerous and one guard automatically bolted to try and source out any kind of healer. One had been sent for, but there was no telling where said healer was or how long it would take for them to get here.

Geta's attention moved back down to (Y/n) as he cocooned his left arm around her waist and his right arm pinned over the back of her thighs. He slid her off the chair until she was leant into his chest and slumped over his lap, allowing him to pick her up bridal style.

He had done this a few times, but never like this. Never when his wife was on the brink of death.

Her face burrowed into his shoulder, but she could still see the arrow sticking out of the cloth that had been wrapped around the wound to try and stem the bleeding. She could see the shaved feathers on the end of the wood to help it soar through the air like a message from the Gods.

Had she done something to offend them? Was this some kind of punishment? Was (Y/n) truly going to die from this affliction?

If that were so, then (Y/n) wanted to stay in Geta's arms. She wanted to stay in his embrace if she was dying. She wanted to die with him as close as possible, guiding her into the next life.

That thought had tears trickling down her features and soaking into Geta's robes and the moment he felt her tears, his brows furrowed and he glanced down at her. She didn't need to be crying. She shouldn't be afraid, he was going to get her help. He was going to make sure that she was okay. He had to.

He did his best not to move (Y/n) too much as he stormed out into the corridor and followed the guards urging him their way. Hopefully they had a healer nearby or some destination in mind that would help.

It was hard to control himself, to not start screaming in torture and to stop from digging his hands into (Y/n)'s flesh and leaving marks and bruises in his wake. He didn't want to hurt her. That was the last thing on his mind, but he felt like if he didn't hold her tight enough, then she might slip away from him forever.

When he turned a sharp corner, he let his gaze fall down to his wife when he realised she wasn't crying or sniffling into his shoulder anymore.

"Hey, hey you keep those eyes on me. You hear me?" There was something authoritiative in his voice that sent shivers coursing through what was left of (Y/n)'s nerves. It made her do her best to blink and try to look up at him, but it was hard.

Her left arm that was loosely draped around the back of his neck twitched and her fingers tried to move and brush against the back of his neck.

Geta began to shake his head from left to right when he realised where the guards were taking him.

They were guiding him out of the colosseum. There was no healer nearby. They would be trying to usher him back to the palace. If that was their plan they'd better move at lightning speed because Geta was willing to kill everyone who failed to help save his wife, no matter how little their roles were in this trifling day.

"(Y/n)!" He seethed through gritted teeth the moment he stepped out the doors and was faced with a carriage waiting to take them back to the palace which was thankfully nearby. "Sweetheart, please, please stay awake."

Tears glistened in his eyes and he almost screamed when one of the guards tried to help him. He didn't want help carrying his wife, he wanted help finding a healer and arranging help.

He eased down into the carriage with (Y/n) laid across his lap, her cheek still resting on his shoulder and his arms encased around her body to hold her close. He didn't want to let her go. Not for a moment.

"Hold on for me, hm? I love you." His words were hushed against her temple as he began swaying them both from left to right.

And he tried to make sure she was stable with his left am propping her up against him so that his right hand could try and apply pressure to the wound once again. He hated the little mewl that it caused her to emmit but at least the pain was keeping her somewhat conscious and alert with him. His lips attached to her burning temple and he tried to close his eyes.

But all Geta saw when he closed his eyes was the vision of blood. He could see the blood painting her golden dress that she only wore to match him and show her support of her Emperors and of Rome. The beautiful golden thread and silk were tainted with so much blood that it looked positively black.

As insisted and expected, it didn't take long to get back to the palace which was only a short trip away. Any longer and (Y/n) might not have made the journey back.

The moment the coach pulled up and the door opened, Geta clambered down with his wife still tucked up in his arms.

The words "I love you," were whispered against the top of her head over and over as at least six guards surrounded him to provide assistance and guidance as they stormed into the palace.

It surprised Geta to find Caracalla and General Acacius already here in the palace, but then again, they had been ushered out first. And they looked so fragile and out of breath that they couldn't have been here very long. A few minutes at most.

"This way, Emperor."

Geta's steely eyes tore away from them both and he looked ahead to where the guards were guiding him.

Each step felt like a step closer to Hell. He felt like he was guiding his wife personally to her demise. All he wanted to do was save her but Geta wasn't so sure anymore that it was possible.

Tears streamed down his face, slithering and melting into the make up that was starting to fade and run down towards his neck. Allowing streaks of bright pink and red to light up his features like scratches where the blood was rising to the surface.

He followed the guards down another corridor, sure that he could hear his twin somewhere close behind them. Geta's sandals echoed and stomped against the marble floor that was littered with droplets of blood like breadcrumbs to find their way back to the carriage.

But just as he neared the room all the guards seemed to be surrounding, Geta's steps faltered and his eyes snapped down to look at his wife.

Her cheek was still pressed against his shoulder, but her eyes had rolled to the back of her head.

And he couldn't feel her breaths on his skin anymore.

His rabid eyes scanned across her face and chest a million times, but she wasn't breathing. He was sure of it.

"No, no don't do this to me!"

A rendition of "You can't do this!" And "You're not allowed to leave me!" Roared past Geta's lips as he stormed towards the room that felt like his last beacon of hope. His last glimpse at salvation before he lost himself into oblivion.

His body was shaking, seething with anger, betrayal, panic and absolute desperation as he barrelled into the drawing room and collapsed down on his knees on the floor. He laid (Y/n) over his lap, refusing to move his arms from around her. He couldn't let them take her in case he never got her back again.

"She isn't breathing- do something!"

Everyone in the room flinched at his tone and his barbaric expression which told them that if the Empress didn't live, then none of them were going to leave this room. Their only chance at salvation was to save (Y/n).

Guards posted either side of the door which slammed closed right after Caracalla and General Acacius hurried inside.

Two healers were stood at the far table, concoctions and remedies laid out before them that they were trying to perfect with trembling hands. And Caracalla moved so he was stood close enough to his twin that his presence was felt, but not close enough to reach out. He didn't know what to do. One arm bound around his waist and the other pinned his hand against his mouth so he could bite down on his thumb anxiously.

A third healer knelt down in front of Geta who he looked to for permission before he dared to reach out and touch the Empress.

He seemed to agree that she wasn't breathing- as if Geta was stupid enough to mistake something like that.

There was no time for Geta to question or ask what was on the rag that the healer was now pressing over (Y/n)'s mouth and nose. Or the tonic he dripped into her mouth and the salts he wafted beneath her nose. The utter concoction seemed to do the trick in shocking (Y/n)'s system as a strangled, desperate breath caused her chest to inflate and her head pressed back against Geta's shoulder suddenly.

With his hand cradling the side of her face, Geta held (Y/n) close and attached his lips desperately to the top of her head. He pressed kiss after kiss against her temple and hairline and did his best not to start rocking back and forth as that would disrupt the healer before him.

Tears streamed down his features as he tried his best to control his own breathing and settle his system. But (Y/n) was frightening him. He had never been this frightened of anyone dying before. He had been saddened when his mother passed, joyful when his father died and slightly inconvenienced when any servants passed who he was close to.

But Geta knew if he lost his twin or his wife, then his world would end too. He would burn down all of Rome and then kill himself if he lost them.

"On the sofa, if you will, sire."

Geta didn't need to be told twice. He slipped his arms back around (Y/n)'s frame properly and eased her up from his lap so she was properly in his arms once again. His lips glued against her temple and he moved to lay her down on the sofa in the corner of the room.

Once she was laid out, he moved to sit behind her and laid her head on his lap wit his hand brushing up and down her arm to try and keep her soothed and calm.

He hated each whimper and mewl that she let out when the healer touched the arrow and tried to assess the damage to know how to treat her.

"The opium; a lot of it." The healer waved his hand at one of his fellow colleagues behind him but he didn't like the look he was faced with when he glanced up at the Emperor.

"Is that wise?" Geta didn't want to contradict a healer, he truly didn't because this wasn't his forte. He wasn't sure how this could be treated or how they were going to save his wife. But he knew what opium would do. Geta knew it would render his wife unconscious in a deep sleep that would be hard to wake her from.

That wasn't the problem. The issue was that she had just stopped breathing. Giving her opium might induce that breathless state again, Geta didn't want her to be sedated and then needing to be woken up by strong substances again or by lethal forces if she stopped breathing.

"I have to remove the arrow, Emperor. The opium is necessary, I fear the pain would kill her." He hated to be so blunt, but if they didn't sedate her and she stayed conscious, the pain might be too much for (Y/n)'s heart to take.

She was already close to death as it was. Another burst of pain, another bout of bloodloss and she could die and they would have a hard time bringing her back round again.

Geta silently nodded his head and moved his hands down to rub up and down (Y/n)'s arms. He felt the way she writhed on his lap and he leaned over her so he could press his lips to her forehead.

He was sure she tried to murmur his name and he hummed against her temple, trying to keep her calm while the healer got a vile of opium ready.

"Take this, sweetheart, and you'll feel better. I'm not leaving you, I promise. I won't go anywhere."

Geta knew she hated being alone, much less being alone and in agony like this. But he wasn't going anywhere. He wasn't leaving her for one single moment until he knew that she was out of harms way and the Gods weren't going to try and claim her.

He would pray. If that's what the Gods demanded, Geta would pray right here and now. He would take pilgrimage down to the temples and pray to each and every God in Rome if they would spare his wife. Once she was better, he would pray and leave gifts and sacrifices at their temples if they would do him the honour of sparing his life and letting him life without a broken heart. He couldn't lose her.

She was Geta's heart and soul and if anything happened to her, then all of Rome would suffer under his merciless wrath.

His thumb glided across (Y/n)'s cheek while the healer held a vile of opium to her lips. Geta coaxed her to take the drug while his lips stayed against her temple and his thumb moved to brush along her lower lip that was smeared with blood as she coughed once the drug was in her system.

It didn't take long for her body to go lax and still against him and the sight was horrifying because there was on guarantee that she would wake up.

Geta didn't even know what her last words had been to him. Had it been his name? Had it been a cry of agony? Had it been her telling him how much torturous pain she was in?

The thought had him in tears once again and he brushed his arm beneath his eyes and across his face. Smearing make up across his face until streaks of white, red and black smudges were painted across his face.

Another healer came to hover by for added assistance and watched with a little too much eagerness for Geta's liking.

Geta rolled his lips together and braced himself when he watched the healer checking the arrow. He seemed to make sure the cut at the back of the arrow was clean and it was a clear cut through (Y/n)'s skin. He checked for any bone damage, none of which could be found.

He then braced one hand on (Y/n)'s right shoulder and the other gripped the end of the wooden arrow that had caused so much anguish in Rome today.

Geta couldn't help the way he grimaced and coughed in despair when the arrow was yanked free from his wife's skin with one swift tug. The healer examined the stick of wood which thankfully hadn't broken or splintered, making their work much easier. But when he went to discard it, Geta surged across and took it.

He set the arrow down behind him on the small table. Geta needed that. When the gladiator was caught who had caused this disgrace, Geta would be using that arrow on him. He would show him where it could be impaled to cause the maximum amount of pain. He would make the gladiator see his Empress's blood and see why his death would be so very painful and enduring.

"If you could, Emperor."

Those words brought Geta out of his thoughts and he frowned, unsure what he was being asked until he looked down at the healer's hands.

He nodded and helped to turn (Y/n) onto her left side so her cheek was pressing into his thigh. One hand stayed on her chest and the other held her lower back to keep her in place, allowing the healer a clear view of both sides of the wound that was now pouring blood down her dress.

A grunt of disproval left Geta's lips when the healer slid the strap of (Y/n)'s dress from her shoulder to expose the wound properly. He restrained himself from digging his fingers into her flesh again and from pushing the healer away from his wife. He didn't want anyone touching her, but he didn't seem to have a choice.

Geta was rather relieved she had been given the opium now. As much as it made him fear her eyes never opening again and her breaths ceasing to exist, they were right. It was better for her this way. Tearing the arrow from her skin would have sent her into shock.

And now, with the healer slowly stitching up the small circular wounds on her back and chest, it would have driven (Y/n) into maddening agony if she had been awake or somewhat lucid for this.

The skin was already starting to swell once the thread was binding her skin together which had gone tight like a canvas being pulled too tight over a wooden frame.

"This paste should prevent infection and quicken the healing." The thick herbal paste the healer lathered on both wounds looked sickly and gut wrenching, but Geta didn't care as long as it worked.

He watched with growing distaste as the paste was lathered onto (Y/n)'s bruised skin and a roll of bandage was carefully applied to her skin. Two thick bandages were wound over and under her armpit and across her collar bone to cover the expanse of the wound and it looked rather tight, but Geta supposed that was the point.

"When she wakes we will give her some tonic, and she shouldn't move her arm too much until the wound heals."

"You'll stay to observe her." It was more of an order than a request, but there was a sense of vulnerability in Geta's voice that caused the healer to smile softly. His Emperor looked fragile rather than frightening when he spoke just now.

"Of course, sir." None of the healers would be going anywhere until the Empress was out of danger. They would be here for the next few days, they suspected.

Geta wanted them nearby just in case anything were to go wrong or (Y/n) took a sudden turn. But he would be the one applying the paste to her wounds and changing her bandages when she needed them. He wasn't going to be leaving her sights, he would be the one caring for her. None of the maids or servants were going to get close to the Empress for the next few weeks.

The healer retreated to the corner table, busying himself with preparing some tonics and more paste for when the Empress would stir.

General Acacius took a step closer to the Emperor, his hands bound in front of him and a sense of panic on his face when he looked at Geta. The Emperor looked like he was starting to shake. He had one hand carding through his wife's hair, but his other hand was clenched into a fist which was pressed against his mouth as if to stop himself from screaming.

And when Geta's head snapped towards the general, a fiery vengeance could be seen burning within his darkened pupils.

"Find the one who did this! I want to string up the barbaric hound myself for what he's done to her!"

He wanted the gladiator responsible brought to the palace so Geta could deal with him personally. He would bleed him dry and quarter him and burn him and throw him to the dogs. Geta would do anything and everything he possibly could to inflict the worst pain onto the barbarian who thought he could get away with trying to murder the Empress.

He wasn't going to get away with this.

#imagine #emperor geta imagine #geta imagine #emperor geta x reader #geta x reader #emperor geta #emperor caracalla #gladiator imagine #gladiator ii #gladiator movie #gladiator 2 #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn imagine #joseph quinn

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thisisntmyrightera · 1 day ago

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Park SungHoon Head Cannons x Fem Reader

Pairing: Park SungHoon x Fem Reader

Headcannons about your relationship with SungHoon. Type: Fluff, some Angst Beware: Messages of hate, racism, sexism.

Note: I wanted to do something different and since I couldn't find anything about Park Sunghoon anywhere, I decided to bring something to the lovers of this great actor. It had been on my mind for a long time and I had to express it. I hope you like it.

-SungHoon and you met back in March 2023 when you were both recruited for the cast of Squid Game 2, with you being the foreign addition of the season

-As soon as you met, his kindness and tenderness resonated a lot with you, you were used to only knowing his roles but meeting him in person surprised you, he was a totally different person than usual.

-He, on the other hand, didn't last a single second without getting to know you before he was enchanted by your beauty. You seemed so delicate and different from what he was normally used to that he couldn't get you out of his head. As soon as he had the chance, he approached you and introduced himself, and quickly you both became good friends. Your first friend from the cast.

-A couple of weeks later, he invited you to eat at a place that wasn't fancy. In fact, he surprised you when he asked you to dress comfortably, something not at all formal. You both wore sweatpants, baggy sweatshirts, and caps. The date took place at a local gimbap restaurant, his favorite, which you loved as soon as you tried the first bite.

-The date was unique, like none you had had in years. There were no prejudices or anything false to impress. No one approached to bother you or you felt pressure around you to run away. On the contrary, everything around you was calm and the conversation you both had flowed as naturally as if you had known each other for years.

-Your friends (who you've told absolutely everything to) were initially hesitant about your relationship, he was much older than you, almost 40 and it could be harmful, but when he was with you he seemed like nothing more than a teenage boy in love, giggling and blushing, something about him made you feel like he was the one, but no one made the first move… or so you thought.

-The second date was shortly after, this time at your apartment, you both wore comfortable clothes again, ate instant ramen and fried chicken that he brought from his favorite restaurant, even though they had a movie on Netflix in the background neither of you paid attention, again you spent hours chatting laughing at stories and telling anecdotes.

-It was almost in October when during a walk along the banks of the Han River he took your hand, you didn't even notice, everything was so natural as if both of you were made for each other that his hand simply became part of yours

"I'm cold" you told him trembling with your cheeks blushing a little from the cold autumn wind, he didn't mention anything, he just smiled surrounding you with his arms while both of you leaned on each other looking at the river current

-In November, one of his best friends was getting married and he didn't miss the opportunity to invite you, he didn't spare his feelings either when he entered taking your hand, greeting his acquaintances and introducing you as his girlfriend, it was the moment when someone took a photograph which quickly traveled through the networks divulging your relationship

-Your name and his were everywhere, some portals referring to you as "the girlfriend" not even bothering to publish your name, many fans and followers began to share messages misogynists and racists against you.

''She's probably an easy one, she's a foreigner that's why they come to our country''

''She should have slept with him, aish she looks so fake''

''I don't understand why they keep bringing foreign celebrities to our country, now she'll dirty their legacy''

-Message after message made your heart ache, you spent hours crying and feeling like you weren't enough, to the point of asking him not to contact you anymore so as not to ruin his career, he had enough dramas in his life being hated for his controversial roles and now you would cause him more problems

-This only lasted a couple of weeks, one day he came to your door knocking with a small bouquet of flowers, subtle but with your favorite flowers, it was impossible not to let him in with his kind and warm smile, after talking for hours where he comforted you and apologized for not acting quickly against all the people who hurt you he took out of his pocket a small box, it was white and inside it two rings, one thicker than the other which made you overthink and panic a little making him laugh at your innocence.

''These are promise rings, I'll wear this one and you'll wear this one, we'll always wear these rings, no matter where we go we'll always wear them and when people see them they'll know that you and I have something that they can't break, because we've promised to love each other''

-From that day on, wherever you went, you always wore your ring on your left hand, which fans were quick to compare and realize that you and SungHoon shared the same design and quickly began to demand answers.

-For the fans it was something sick, despite being far past the age of majority, you still looked young and this made you earn roles as a student or teenager in popular kdramas, while he continued to receive the hatred of the public by playing mature villains without scruples, how could a sweet teenager have a relationship with a mature man, it was unforgivable.

-Despite this, there were thousands of people who loved both of you and respected your privacy, who supported you in your work and understood that you were both adults with your own decisions, that made you feel better and motivated you to move forward every day.

-His favorite dates were still at home, either at yours or his, they were always dates to eat fast food or recipes that he prepared to introduce you to Korean cuisine, then they watched movies until both of them fell asleep, almost always you sitting on his lap asleep on his shoulder.

-The next day you woke up in his bed or yours and he slept next to you always taking the necessary distance so as not to bother you or inconvenience you, but that didn't last long, as soon as you woke up you climbed on top of him hugging him to sleep some more time.

-A couple of months later both of you began to have more serious talks, would you sell your apartment or his? or would you both sell and buy a better one?, would you like to get married?, have children?, how would we work when the children were born?, talks that didn't sound uncomfortable at all, on the contrary it was comforting to know that you had a responsible and dedicated man at your side.

-At the beginning of 2024, both decided to sell both apartments and buy a better one, with enough space, which they decorated in neutral colors, which they inaugurated by inviting both their families to dinner, both cultures came together to welcome a new family which announced that their future plans included getting married.

-The families of both could not be happier than ever, your mother loved him like a son and his mother hugged you and squeezed your cheeks whenever she saw you, you were the girl she always wanted to have.

-In June 2024 while you were working on a series where you finally played a more mature girl than your previous characters, you felt a strong pain in your stomach, something like a colic and then you vomited the coffee and breakfast you had eaten before.

-They quickly took you to the hospital, everyone feared that you had suffered some kind of intoxication or poisoning, but everything was fine, your blood was clean in almost all the tests until you got to the bottom of the exam

-"Congratulations, you're pregnant" the doctor told you smiling while you looked at him in shock without knowing what was happening, you clearly knew what had happened, you were both already a formal couple and had thousands of plans for the future, but you had forgotten one thing in particular, to take care of yourselves when having sex.

-That night you told him, both of you sitting on the couch where many other nights you had had dates (and possibly where you had also gotten pregnant) he seemed worried at first, but when he realized he was very happy, he was going to be a father, he was going to have a little being with the woman he loved and it had been created by the love you both felt

-You cried at first, you were scared but as soon as he hugged you and comforted you with his words you knew that everything was going to be okay.

-From that day on, he started making thousands of plans, how they were going to decorate the baby's room, how they would protect the house so that they wouldn't suffer any accidents, that you would wait for them to be born to find out if it was a boy or a girl or they would like to know before, it seemed like he had had an adrenaline rush.

-At night, he liked to lie down next to you and talk to your belly (still flat) while he told the baby how his day had been, he told them how he had met you, how the weather was, insignificant things for everyone but for him, it was important that his baby knew that he was already part of the family.

-As the months went by, as soon as your belly began to show, he loved taking pictures of you in all the landscapes they found, he wanted to save even the smallest detail of your pregnancy.

-One day while you were both drinking cold coffee on a bench in front of the river, Han took your hand and talked about the future. From his pocket he took out a small box, carefully opening it and showing you a ring like the one you had always dreamed of (and the one that your best friend surely helped him choose).

"After our baby is born, I would like us to get married in a beautiful wedding like the one you deserve. It can be big or discreet, you decide that, or it can be just you, me and our child. I will be happy with the simple fact that our family is formed.

-It wasn't long before someone again leaked a photo of you where your belly was noticeable and again your name was all over the gossip tabloids, this time accompanied by rude comments against you and your unborn child.

-By then your last series had already ended and you were at home resting when your agency sent you a statement telling you that SungHoon and his agency wanted to make a joint statement, you gave your approval without thinking.

''I appreciate the support shown by our fans, im so sorry if some feel offended by our private life, I would like to announce that after knowing each other for a long time and realizing that we both felt the same way about each other, Y'N and I decided to formalize our relationship which has flowed healthy and happy, we are currently expecting our first child which we are very excited to welcome in February of next year who will be born in a home full of respect and love. Our relationship is better than ever, having already decided to get engaged to be married after our firstborn comes into the world. We appreciate the love and understanding of those who feel happy with our happiness, we treasure it in our hearts.''

-With that, SungHoon made sure to make everything clear, if that was what they wanted to know, he gave it to them by clearing up all the rumors.

-In December of that same year, Squid Game 2 finally premiered, taking you to the premiere on the arm of your future husband and adorning your dress with your beautiful belly.

-Your co-stars were happy, Ae-Shim (Geum-Ja) who had become a motherly figure for your character in the series kept caressing your belly repeating how beautiful you looked and how bright your face was.

-''It's a little squid, it will be my godson or goddaughter'' Jung-Jae repeated laughing whenever he saw you

-SungHoon never left your side, wherever you went he would accompany you holding your hand or resting it on your back, always making you feel protected

-This time the tabloids mentioned how pretty you looked, how happy you seemed and how adorable you seemed with your round belly, as well as how pretty your engagement ring was and how in love you both looked.

#squid game #squid game 2 #cho hyunju #cho hyun ju #cho hyun-ju #squid game imagine #squid game season 2 #squid game x reader #cho hyun ju x reader #cho hyun ju imagine #cho hyun ju fluff #cho hyunju imagine #park sunghoon imagine #park sunghoon #park sung hoon #park sung hoon imagine #park sung hoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader

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vettelsvee · 12 hours ago

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YOU SHOULD'VE SEEN YOUR FACE | Sebastian Vettel

Sebastian Vettel x Pregnant Wife!Reader

SUMMARY: Seb's wife is pregnant, but she hasn't told him yet since she doesn't seem ready. However, after he almost crashed pretty badly during a Free Practice session, she can't help but tell him in not the best way possible ↳ REQUESTED BY ANON: Okay but can you imagine Sebs wife being pregnant but she has not told him yet. He does some dangerous and bold move on a drive and she gets mad and scared and just some fluff when he finds out :)

WORD COUNT: 1804

WARNINGS: Curse words, mentions of anxiety, overthinking about Formula 1 crashes (?), pregnancy, Ferrari Seb in general (if you know, you know)

TAGLIST: @hc-dutch @raavadakedavra @coffeedestroyingperson @evey-kuznetskova @bowielovesyou @chaoswithus @isotopemylove @iceman-kazansky @gwginnyweasley @formula1-motogpfan @herdetectivetheorist @myescapefromthislife @regalbanshee [in case you wanna be tagged just tell me so i can add you!]

VEE'S NOTES: Hi guys! Finally back to posting fics! This year I don't only want to write more, but also establish some kind of writing routine because I've been dealing with anxiety over Christmas for some personal problems family related and found out that I missed distressing with writing. Also, thank you so much for all the support you've been showing me lately! Appreciate it a lot since I wasn't feeling very comfortable with my writing. Let me know your thoughts on this one <3 ↳ MAKE YOUR REQUESTS | LET'S TALK! | JANUARY UPDATE CALENDAR

Despite being quite far from the pit lane, you could hear nothing but the deafening roar of the engines, the clatter of tools on Kimi's car, and the curses of the race engineers at the constant stunts Seb had decided to pull during the free practice session.

Your husband's red car seemed not just to race but to fly around the track. FP2 had started barely twenty minutes ago, but Seb had already come within inches of crashing into the walls far too many times after going off track more often than you could count.

You couldn't deny that you had loved watching Seb race ever since you met and you learned he was a driver in one of the most dangerous sports in the world. Today, however, luck was not on your side, and anxiety was consuming you. The nausea, uncontrollable on its own, felt even worse than usual. Not to mention, you felt on the verge of a panic attack.

"Are you okay?"

You turned at the sound of Riccardo Adami’s voice, Seb’s race engineer. The Italian removed one side of his headset and covered the microphone to ensure the driver wouldn’t hear anything.

"Yes, yes, of course," you replied hastily, forcing a smile and suppressing the urge to gag as you felt it rising in your throat. "I’m just a bit more nervous than usual today, that’s all."

"Seb knows what he’s doing. Don’t worry about that."

You nodded, but as soon as Adami turned his attention back to his screen, you rolled your eyes and did the same.

"You know, sometimes he thinks that he’s a cat and has seven lives," you muttered under your breath. "Someone should remind him he’s in an actual Formula 1 car, not in a simulator."

"Don’t worry, I’ll remind him in the post-session briefing," the engineer joked, flashing a smile before immersing himself back into Vettel's driving.

You didn’t pay him much attention. Once again, you were entirely engrossed in both your husband’s onboard camera and the telemetry, even though you didn’t understand much aside from the fact that he was setting purple sectors, which was undoubtedly a good sign.

You didn’t know much about the inner workings of the cars, but after so many years with Seb, you knew that the faster his times were, the higher the risks became.

You were also acutely aware that your husband was pushing himself too hard in those moments.

You began to tremble slightly, fidgeting with your hands in an attempt to calm your anxiety, but it didn’t work. Instinctively, and trying not to draw much attention, you placed your hands on your belly and prayed that your child wouldn’t give you any scares like his father was giving you.

"Sector two in purple as well, Seb!"

Even though the garage erupted into cheers and applause, you remained motionless. Instead, you couldn’t take your eyes off the screen, which now showed your husband’s car in full view.

Your panic peaked the moment Seb lost control of the rear of his car and went off the track. You swore that if it hadn’t been for the sudden braking, he would have ended up in the barriers with a wrecked car and himself heading to the medical center because the crash would have likely exceeded the G-force limits.

When Seb didn’t respond immediately, your heart stopped.

"I’m fine, I’m fine..." Seb finally said in a disappointed tone. "But I can’t say the same for the car. I think it’s more damaged than it looks."

"Can you bring it back, Sebastian?" Riccardo asked in a tone that was a mix of irritation and disappointment.

"Yeah, no problem. Coming back. Sorry, guys."

Just as no one on the team said anything to you, you, who had forced yourself to sit down because your legs were trembling too much and you felt dizzy, also remained silent until your husband returned and got out of the car.

Seb removed his helmet, revealing an expression that was hard to decipher. You stood up carefully and approached him, trying to keep your composure. Without giving him a chance to say anything, you grabbed his hand and led him toward his driver room, ignoring Britta's protests to talk after interviews were done.

"It could have been worse, right?"

Sebastian closed the door behind him and turned to face you. You stood there with your arms crossed, visibly upset. Your glare alone was enough to tell Seb he was seconds away from one of your infamous scoldings.

The problem? He had no idea why. You had never acted so strangely over something as common as a collision during a race weekend.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” you exploded, your voice filled with frustration. “Fuck, Seb, can you explain what that was all about?!”

“What do you mean, what was that? I was... racing, like I always do, babe,” he replied cautiously, still clueless about what he'd done wrong.

You, however, didn’t know what was bothering you more: your husband’s calm demeanor or the sight of a few Ferrari team members peeking through the window to catch the drama unfolding between the two of you.

“You were so close to slamming into a wall, Sebastian, that’s what happened!” you shot back, yanking the curtains shut and flipping off the nosy onlookers. “Are you out of your mind or what?!”

“Come on, love, I had it under control. What you saw on the onboard might’ve looked bad, but I swear it wasn’t as dangerous as it seemed.”

“Not as bad as it seemed? Are you seriously telling me that?” you retorted, your voice trembling with anger. “Do you think driving is just like playing a video game now? Do you have any idea what it would’ve meant if you hadn’t reacted in time? Do you know what it would’ve meant for me and for—”

You stopped yourself mid-sentence, refusing to continue.

You knew your emotions were running wild because of your pregnancy hormones, but you forced yourself to calm down. Getting so worked up would only lead to a pointless argument with Seb and wasn’t good for you or the baby.

“For who, Y/N?” Seb asked, stepping closer and gently taking your hands in his.

“For... me! Who else?” you replied quickly.

Sebastian didn’t know how to respond. He’d never seen you so distressed about his racing, and while he tried to stay calm, inside he was battling a storm of worry and confusion.

“This stress isn’t good for me or for the situation you and, well... you’ve gotten me into,” you said, your voice cracking.

“Y/N, babe, I swear I have no idea what you’re talking about. Fuck, I’m pretty worried about you right now with all this shit, but if you don’t tell me what’s going on—”

“Damn it, Seb! I’m pregnant!”

You looked down, tears streaming down your face. You clenched your fists tightly, furious at yourself for revealing such big news in such an emotional, unplanned way.

Sebastian, meanwhile, stood frozen, his eyes wide in shock at the unexpected news. Slowly, everything started to make sense: your morning sickness, falling asleep all the time, constantly complaining about being tired, and the flimsy excuses you gave for not drinking wine, something you normally loved.

He cursed himself for not realizing it sooner and for believing your weak justifications about bad leftovers being the cause of everything.

“You’re... pregnant?” His voice was barely audible, almost afraid to say the words out loud because they didn’t feel real.

You wiped your tears and sniffled, doing your best to meet your husband’s gaze without feeling ashamed.

“Yes...” you said timidly. “I wanted to tell you in a special way... you know, by giving you a baby onesie in a box with the positive pregnancy test inside, but...” You shook your head and finally looked him in the eyes. “I thought you were going to die out there today and leave your child and me alone. The thought of losing you, now of all times, just...”

“You’re really pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?”

You nodded, and Seb couldn’t hold back his tears. He pulled you into a tight embrace and began kissing you tenderly. You melted into his arms, feeling an immense weight lifted from your shoulders.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” you admitted. “I swear I wanted it to be special, but seeing you out there today, thinking something could happen to you...” Your voice broke again. “I was terrified, Seb, like never before watching you race.”

“I’m so sorry, love. I really am,” he said sincerely, cupping your cheeks gently and kissing you over and over. “If I’d known, I would’ve been more careful. God, love, this is incredible... This is the best news I’ve ever received.”

“You’re not mad that I didn’t tell you sooner? You should’ve seen your face earlier...”

“Mad? That you didn’t tell me sooner?” You shrugged, your insecurity showing despite your years together. Seb tilted his head, understanding this was one of your rare but extreme moments of doubt. “I’m just... in shock. I can’t believe we’re going to be parents...”

Sebastian hesitantly touched your stomach, and you burst into fresh tears at the tenderness of his gesture.

“Now you have to promise me something, Seb,” you said, playing with his hair as he knelt before you, leaving kisses on your belly.

“Anything for you and our little one.”

“You need to be more careful from now on. Stop thinking so much with your adrenaline and testosterone, and start using your brain more,” you said, trying not to sound too harsh. “I know Formula 1 and racing is your whole life, but I don’t want you risking it when we’re bringing a new one into the world. I’m eight weeks along, and we still have 32 to go assuming everything follows the perfect pregnancy script.”

Seb stood and gazed at you, trying to convey the calm you both could only find in each other.

“Love, I promise,” he whispered softly. “For you, for the baby... I love winning, but today, and even more so when our child is born, I’ll have won the second most important race of my life.”

You frowned, confused.

“If that’s the second, what’s the most important race of your life then?”

He chuckled and scooped you into his arms, kissing you again as he laid you both on the couch behind you.

“The race I ran for so many years to win your heart,” he murmured between slow, deliberate kisses that said more than words ever could. “After all those years trying to get you to go out with me in high school, and now we’re eight months away from having a baby... what else could it be, mama?”

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melminli · 17 hours ago

Text

ex, for a reason

summery - your boyfriend was the sweetest guy in the whole world, but maybe that was the problem.

pairing: kang dae-ho x fem. reader

word count: 1.4k

contains: modern au, angst w/ comfort, fluff

the request.

He really shouldn't worry about it as much as he did right now because the whole thing was just totally stupid, and all the stuff that had been going through his head was irrational. Dae-ho knew that and yet, he just couldn't stop himself from imagining multiple crazy scenarios in which you were breaking up with him - he didn't want any of this, why would he? The only heart that got broken in the process was his and it was all because of nothing.

Well, maybe there was this one thing, and that was that Dae-ho had been feeling a bit - well let’s just say - insecure about your relationship. He was very much aware of the fact that he had zero resemblance to the guys you usually date because he wasn't, well - he wasn't an asshole. You and even most of you’re friends make fun of it now that you two are together and it actually turned into some kind of inside joke that you broke the curse with him. Though, Dae-ho didn’t really feel like laughing about it right now.

This whole thing is so stupid, he thought to himself as he absently watched some show on the TV before he suddenly heard you laughing next to him. He just looked at you shortly and knew that it was probably because of something funny you saw on your cell phone. But, he just couldn’t restrain himself and had to remember the conversation you had a few days ago. He sighed again with a heavy heart at the memory because apparently, your last ex - some guy named Thanos? - had messaged you out of the blue and asked you what you were up to.

"Hey, look who just sent me a text. I thought I had blocked him everywhere?" you exclaimed, laughing as you shoved your cell phone in his face. Dae-ho just looked a bit confused at the message after he read it because he didn’t really get what you were talking about. He read it one more time, though, he was still kind of lost because it honestly just looked like a normal message, how was he supposed to figure out what was going on?

You then decided to reveal the whole thing since your boyfriend just continued to send you confused glances. "It's my ex. You know, I told you about him. The one I dated before we met."

Yeah, he could remember bits and pieces of that. "So, what does he want?" he asked, still not quite sure what was going on.

You sighed at his innocence. "He obviously wants to get back together.“

"Does he?" Dae-ho asked and was seriously surprised. He pointed at your phone while he talked. "But he just asked if you still had his old sweater, that could mean anything."

You waved as you laughed. "Oh, trust me. I know what that means.“ you assured him and thought back to the old days, which was something you didn’t like to do. „We were pretty much on and off in our whole relationship because I always tried to break things off after fighting - but then always take him back afterward. So, it just started to turn into a really bad cycle at some point, I guess.“ you tried to explain. „Anyway, he used to text me about some meaningless thing as soon as he wanted to get back together and this is one of those texts since he's also not the kind of person to send you a message if he doesn't want anything from you. I’m just surprised that he would try this again because I broke things up with him for real the last time, trust me.“

Oh. It felt like Dae-ho should be laughing at your ex's desperate attempt to get back together with you now, but he felt more like ugly crying, to be honest. „Yeah, that is pretty funny.“ he just decided to say with a forced smile on his face.

Since then, the whole situation just wouldn't let him go. No matter how hard he tried to. The way you told it, made it seem like you two got back together a lot and who was to say that maybe a part of you wouldn't want to try again - purely because of muscle memory? He wasn't the type to get irrationally angry over something like that, but he'd be lying if he said that all these negative thoughts didn't make him incredibly depressed the past few days.

"Hey, I know I've asked you this a few times now, but are you sure everything's okay?" you finally asked him when you noticed how he wasn't really paying attention to what was going on in his show. It was unusual for him to be so quiet when usually some comment about what was happening would leave him every minute.

He just nodded under his breath. "Yeah, yeah, everything's fine," he said, feeling guilty again for being the way he was right now.

You moved a little closer to him and hugged him lightly from the side. "You're lying and I'm tired of waiting for you to come to me on your own because, as you know, I'm not the most patient person on earth."

He avoided your gaze guiltily. "It's stupid."

"It's clearly not, because you've been acting like a depressed housewife for days."

He laughed lightly along with you at that little joke of yours. "And how is that supposed to look like?"

You smiled. "You know, you're like you always are - you make dinner, you bring me my favorite tea, but you sigh very loudly every now and then plus you're also a bit distant." you continued to broach the subject in a slightly joking manner to get rid of the heavy air around you two.

Of course, you would be aware of his bad mood. "Well, I just noticed that I'm not like the other guys you've dated before," he whispered casually while playing with the fabric of his shirt. Even though, you both knew that it seemed to be a topic that was bothering him.

You nodded. "So?" you just asked him, thinking something other would follow since you couldn’t see what the problem was. Though, there didn't seem to be anything more coming. "That's all? You’re upset because you're not like my shitty boyfriends in the past?" you repeated a bit in disbelief.

Dae-ho looked to the side, embarrassed. "I told you it was stupid..." he whispered. "I just don’t want you to think that I’m boring or something…"

You just took him in your arms and tried to suppress your laughter so as not to add salt to the wound. "I didn't mean it like that, but I'm telling you this now because you obviously to need to hear it," you said as you placed a kiss on his head. "You're not boring. You’re the sweetest boyfriend in the whole world and I would never trade you for any of my past relationships. I love you and I've never even said those words to any of my exes, did you know that?" you asked him, watching as he slowly looked up to you. "…really?" he asked you shyly, even though you had been together for a while now.

You smiled. "Really," you assured him and were glad to see your boyfriend in his normal happy state again. However, you then remembered the conversation you had a few days ago. "Was this whole thing about Thanos? You don't have to worry about him. I hate that guy, he like probably cheated on me more times than he admitted." you laughed and stopped when something else came to mind. "Besides, I think he also stole some money from me..."

Dae-ho looked at you worriedly as he held you even tighter. "Oh my god, are you serious? You never told me that, is that why you broke up with him?"

You looked away a little embarrassed yourself this time and didn't dare to confess to him that it had unfortunately taken a lot more than that for it to end between the two of you. Those weren't your proudest moments in your life. "Yeah, sure..."

But who cared about all that, right? You were the happiest you could ever be with Dae-ho and that was all that mattered. Maybe you should remind him more of that because he really didn't deserve to feel inferior to someone like that damn Thanos.

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zoyarecs · 2 days ago

Text

i could say i’m surprised, but at this point i’m really not because you’re so damn good at everything you write, and i stand by that. i mean, all your works are amazing, but this one is definitely in my top 3, no doubt. maybe i’m a little biased because i fucking love enzo, but either way, the talent is all there (your brain duh)🧏🏻‍♀️

He couldn't decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

boy is sweating, i just know it (AS HE SHOULD)

To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together-an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

this little smug bastard knowing his girl like the back of his hand, it’s canon, everyone knows it hehe, and i love that you included it here 🌝

you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. "Oh, don't blame the wine. Lorenzo's just got a lot on his mind tonight."

i looooove the reader’s personality, she knows how to handle Lorenzo and i’m all for it. she’s so sassy lmao, it’s hilarious 😭 she needs to slap him

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. "Dessert already? But the night's just getting started, isn't it?" "Don't worry, love," you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. "I'll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually." subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word.

hi soooo, i need a reader x reader story like RIGHT NOW, she’s so fucking hot helleoooolosisjshstfvhaysgsg (lorenzo is 💦💦 in his pants)

You shrugged, feigning innocence. "Everyone had a good time. What's there to complain about?" Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. "You know exactly what."

he’s so done but as i said ‘prove do seu veneno’ ✋🏻✊🏻

He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. "Go on, then. Show me." Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce.

nothing—JUST THIS LEONA MARIA WHEN I CAT H YOUEJAYWYWHHEHWGWHWB

the way i imagine this in my head… i’m so 🫠🫠🫠🫠 because he’s the type of guy who does stuff like this without any warning

"You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?"

i would tease him on purpose after this

"Begging already?" "Patience, darling," "I wonder if you've been like this all night, haven't you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you."

cocky smug bastard fuck me and yes you’re right enzo 🤭🤭🤭

"You like that, don't you?" he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. "Like it when I treat you like a little slut."

PUT THIS ON MY GRAVE, LEONA THIS IS MAKING ME FEEL THINGS

He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself. You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

i love that he’s treating us like a princess after ruining us, that’s so sweet of him. i want to slap him so bad

LEONA, this was incredible. the dialogues, the tension, the group moments—everything was spot on and made me feel so involved in the narrative. 😣😣😣😣 your works always make me feel like i’m actually in it with them, and i love that because you’re so fucking talented, omfg, don’t even get me started. and the smut?! GIRL, IT WAS SO HOT. i’m obsessed with it, with everything you do, actually!!!!! 🙇🏻‍♀️🙇🏻‍♀️

FICMAS #9— WRAPPED IN RED / lorenzo berkshire

december 27th

lorenzo berkshire x fem reader

summary: surprising your beloved boyfriend in your favorite festive colors…

warnings: smut mdni, unprotected piv, degradation/praise, lingerie, nipple sucking, titty slapping (?), creampie, established relationship

words: 3.8k

a/n: sorry i’ve been kind of MIA the past two days bbs, i will get to my inbox soon <3 (forgot to do the taglist when i first posted this so i added it now!)

navigation ficmas masterlist

Lorenzo was always calm, always collected. He moved through life with the kind of ease that made everyone else envy him—a permanent smirk tugging at his lips, a lazy confidence in every stride. But tonight? Tonight, that composure was cracked, splintering with every passing second.

And it was your fault.

Because even while his friends laughed, argued, and passed bottles of Firewhisky around the table, Lorenzo didn’t see them. He didn’t hear the clink of glasses or the familiar banter filling the room. No, the only thing he saw was an X-ray version of you, his mind peeling back the thick-knit sweater and denim jeans you wore to reveal the little red-laced secret you’d shown him before everyone arrived.

He couldn’t decide if he loved you or hated you in moments like this. Maybe both.

You sat beside him, close enough that your knee occasionally bumped his under the table. To everyone else, you looked effortlessly put together—an angel in your festive sweater and jeans, so soft, so sweet. But Lorenzo knew better.

And he was trying to behave—Merlin, he was trying. But every subtle movement of yours, every time you reached for your glass of wine or leaned forward to laugh at one of Theo’s jokes, he felt the blood rush to his head and lower. You were a menace.

“You good, mate?” Blaise’s voice jolted him back to the moment.

Lorenzo blinked, quickly plastering on a grin that he hoped didn’t look too strained. “Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Blaise shrugged, tipping his glass toward Lorenzo. “You just seem a little... distracted. Too much wine already?”

Before Lorenzo could answer, you chimed in, your voice light and teasing. “Oh, don’t blame the wine. Lorenzo’s just got a lot on his mind tonight.”

He glanced at you, eyes narrowing ever so slightly. You gave him an innocent smile, one that made his chest tighten and his fists clench under the table.

Draco leaned back in his chair, smirking. “Bet it’s work. You always get that look when you’re thinking about work.”

“Yeah,” Lorenzo muttered, forcing himself to look away from you. “Work.”

“Lighten up, Berkshire.” Pansy reached for the bottle to refill her glass. “It’s Christmas. No one wants to hear about whatever boring Ministry nonsense you’ve got going on.”

“It’s not boring,” Theo cut in, gesturing with his fork. “Enzo probably has a very important case. You know, like illegal broomstick modifications or... I don’t know, someone stealing cauldrons.”

The table burst into laughter, and even Lorenzo managed a weak chuckle. But his thoughts weren’t on the conversation. They were on you—on the way you crossed your legs, the way you kept tugging at your sweater like you were hiding something beneath.

He barely registered when Mattheo passed him the tray of roast potatoes, only grabbing it when Theo nudged his shoulder. “You’re really out of it, mate.”

“I’m fine,” Lorenzo said quickly, setting the tray down with a bit more force than necessary. He glanced at the clock, then at the empty plates around the table. “Should we bring out dessert?”

You tilted your head, a slow smile curving your lips. “Dessert already? But the night’s just getting started, isn’t it?”

If you weren’t sitting in a room full of people, Lorenzo would’ve kissed that smirk off your face—or done something else entirely. Instead, he swallowed hard, leaning back in his chair and gripping his glass like it might anchor him.

“Don’t worry, love,” you said softly, just loud enough for him to hear. “I’ll make sure you get exactly what you want... eventually.”

Lorenzo groaned under his breath, earning a curious glance from Draco. This was going to be a long night.

The evening dragged on in fits and starts, each laugh and clink of glasses feeling like a small eternity. Lorenzo kept himself occupied pouring drinks, clearing plates, and chiming in on conversations when necessary, but his attention was always split. The rest of the group was far too absorbed in their own stories to notice the tension simmering beneath the surface—except for you.

You leaned into every teasing word, every subtle graze of your fingers against his arm or leg, pushing his limits without saying a word. By the time Theo and Blaise started debating the best Quidditch team of the decade, Lorenzo was practically vibrating with the effort it took to keep his composure.

“Alright,” Pansy announced at last, standing and stretching her arms overhead. “I think that’s my cue to head out before Blaise starts drafting us for his imaginary team.”

“Imaginary?” Blaise shot back. “I could make the Cannons win if I had half a chance.”

Draco rolled his eyes, standing to help Pansy with her coat. “If Blaise keeps this up, we’ll all be here until morning.”

A flurry of goodbyes followed, with everyone exchanging hugs and well-wishes. You played the perfect hostess, ushering them out with a warm smile while Lorenzo stood stiffly at the door, offering little more than clipped nods. He was polite enough to keep up appearances, but you could see the strain in the set of his jaw, the tightness in his shoulders.

Finally, the door clicked shut, and the silence that followed felt deafening.

You turned, leaning casually against the door as you looked at him. “Well, that wasn’t so bad, was it?”

Lorenzo said nothing at first, his eyes scanning your face before dropping lower—to the hem of your sweater, which you had just barely started to tug up before letting it fall again. The corner of his mouth twitched, but it wasn’t a smile. It was something darker, more dangerous.

“Not bad?” His voice was low, quiet in a way that sent shivers down your spine. “You think that was not bad?”

You shrugged, feigning innocence. “Everyone had a good time. What’s there to complain about?”

Lorenzo took a slow step forward, his gaze fixed on yours. “You know exactly what.”

You laughed softly, pushing off the door and sauntering past him toward the living room. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You don’t, huh?” He was behind you in an instant, his hand closing gently but firmly around your wrist. The heat of his touch sent a jolt through you, and you turned to face him, your heart pounding.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispered, “You’ve been driving me mad all night, love. And now you want to play coy?”

You tilted your head, your lips curving into a sly smile. “I don’t know... maybe I just wanted to see if you could handle it.”

Lorenzo’s grip tightened just slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to let you know you were treading on thin ice. “Handle it? Sweetheart, you have no idea what you’ve just started.”

Before you could respond, he released your wrist and stepped back, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin flush. He gestured toward the sweater with a flick of his fingers. “Go on, then. Show me.”

You hesitated for a moment, letting the tension stretch just long enough to tease him. The air between you felt thick, thick with something that wasn’t just anticipation, but need. Lorenzo was standing so still, his jaw clenched tight, his gaze trained on you like you were the only thing in the world.

And you, of course, were taking your sweet time. You took a step forward, brushing your fingertips across the collar of his shirt. “What’s the matter, Enzo? You look a little... tense.”

He didn’t respond at first. His hands flexed at his sides, a muscle in his neck tensing as he tried—unsuccessfully—to hold onto whatever sliver of control he had left. But you could feel it, the way the air between you had shifted, crackling with something dangerous.

Then, before you could blink, he was there—his large hands gripping your waist with bruising force, lifting you off the ground and throwing you over his shoulder without a word.

You gasped, more out of surprise than anything, but the playful smirk you wore didn’t falter. “Enzo! What—”

But he didn’t care to hear it. His steps were long and measured as he marched toward your bedroom, every move deliberate, as if he was on a mission. The door slammed behind him with a finality that made your stomach flutter with nervous excitement.

Without giving you a chance to say another word, he dropped you onto the bed with a force that made the mattress bounce. The sound of your heart thudded in your chest, and for a split second, everything was quiet.

Lorenzo stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at you like you were a puzzle he had to figure out. He dragged his gaze up and down your body, lingering on the way your sweater stretched across your chest, the hint of red lace peeking out from beneath it. His eyes darkened, almost black with hunger.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done to me tonight?” His voice was rough, ragged, and you could feel it, feel the restraint slipping away with every passing second.

You grinned, leaning back against the pillows like you didn’t have a care in the world. “I think I have a pretty good idea,” you teased, running your hand down your side, accentuating the way the fabric of your jeans hugged your hips.

Lorenzo’s breath hitched. “You think it’s funny?” he growled. He didn’t wait for your response. He was done with your teasing, done with pretending to be patient. He reached down, yanking your sweater off over your head in one swift motion, the sound of fabric ripping filling the air. His hands were all over you now, rough and demanding, tracing the delicate lines of your body like he couldn’t get enough.

There, beneath it all, was the lingerie. Red lace that hugged your curves, teasing him even more than you had with your coy little glances and touches all night. The delicate lace barely covered your chest, and he could see it—see the way your nipples peeked through, hard and waiting for him. His eyes flicked up to yours, and for the briefest moment, he saw that glint of mischief in them.

“You’re such a fucking brat,” he muttered, running his hand up your thigh, feeling the soft fabric of your jeans under his fingertips. “You think you can just walk around in front of me like this and not expect me to lose my mind?”

You tilted your head, your voice sweet yet laced with defiance. “Maybe you shouldn’t have invited everyone over then.”

Lorenzo growled, shaking his head before he leaned over you, his lips trailing along your neck, tasting your skin with each breath.

“You’re lucky I don’t tear this off right now,” he muttered against your skin. “But I’m going to enjoy this, I’m going to take my time, because you deserve every second of this.”

He traced the edge of your lingerie with his fingers, his touch so slow and deliberate it made your breath catch in your throat. You squirmed beneath him, desperate for more, but he wouldn’t give it to you—not yet. His lips moved lower, pressing kisses along your collarbone, down to the delicate swell of your chest where the lace barely contained your breasts.

You moaned softly, and it was enough. Lorenzo could feel the restraint inside of him snap.

Without warning, he yanked at the straps of your lingerie, pulling them down just enough to expose your breasts. His hands immediately moved to cup them, squeezing and kneading them with rough insistence. You gasped, arching into his touch as he leaned down, taking one of your nipples into his mouth. The heat of his tongue and the way he sucked and nipped at you made your body tremble, your hands gripping his hair as you urged him on.

He pulled away, his eyes flashing with something dark, something primal. “You wanted to tease me? Now you get to feel what it’s like when I can’t keep my hands off you.”

The next moments were a blur of frantic movement, his hands and lips devouring you, tearing at your clothes with such urgency you could barely keep up. But you didn’t mind. You wanted this, needed it, wanted to feel him lose himself in you.

And soon, it wasn’t just about the teasing anymore. It was about claiming, about showing just how badly you had driven him to the edge.

He tugged your jeans down your legs with little care for the slow buildup he’d promised—he was done with that. You weren’t in the mood for waiting either. The moment your legs were bare, his hands were back, grazing over your skin like he couldn’t get enough.

You let out a soft whimper when he knelt between your legs, eyes dark and focused on the lingerie that had driven him mad all night. The red lace, so simple, so soft, now felt like a taunt—a promise of what he hadn’t had, what he’d been denied for too long. He ran his hands along the edges of the fabric, just skimming the sides, before tugging it down slowly, exposing you to him fully.

Your breath hitched when the cool air hit your skin, and Lorenzo wasted no time, pressing his lips to your inner thighs, his breath warm and heavy against you. His hands were still on your tits, gripping and squeezing as he kissed and nipped his way closer, the anticipation making your body tremble beneath him.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he muttered under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear, before he finally pulled back to look at you fully. His eyes flickered between the lace remnants at your waist and your flushed face, a smile tugging at his lips, though it was filled with nothing but hunger. “You think you can tease me like this and get away with it?”

You couldn’t help the teasing grin that crossed your face. “Maybe I can.”

His gaze turned intense. "We'll see about that." He stood up quickly, pulling his shirt over his head, exposing his chest to you. The movement was fluid, almost predatory, and the way he reached for his trousers sent a thrill straight through you. The urgency in his actions was both exciting and nerve-wracking—he wasn’t just acting on desire, he was acting on something else too. Something deeper, something urgent.

Before you could even react, Lorenzo was back over you, pressing you into the bed with his body, pinning your arms above your head. His lips found yours in a bruising kiss, hot and demanding. You gasped into his mouth when you felt the pressure of him, hard and insistent, against your stomach. His body was tense, his every movement purposeful as he ground against you, unable to hold back.

You moaned against his lips, desperate for more, for something, anything. "Enzo..." you whispered, pulling your hands free to thread them through his hair, tugging him closer. "Please."

He pulled back just enough to look down at you, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. "Begging already?" he murmured, his voice thick with lust. But there was something in his eyes—something softer that made your chest tighten. His hand moved to the back of your neck, his thumb brushing over your skin in a fleeting moment of tenderness before he returned to his more urgent touch.

You felt the heat between your legs intensify, an ache so deep it threatened to consume you, and you didn’t want to hold back anymore. "I want you, Enzo," you breathed, the words leaving your lips before you could stop them.

Lorenzo’s smirk deepened, but there was a teasing, almost mocking quality to it as he looked down at you, eyes dark with desire. His voice was low, taunting, as he leaned down, brushing his lips against yours softly before pulling away, his breath hot against your cheek.

“Patience, darling,” he murmured, his fingers trailing down your body again, barely skimming over the lace of your lingerie before he slid his hand between your legs. His fingers brushed against the soft fabric of your panties, teasing just enough to make your hips buck involuntarily.

You gasped, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through you, but you didn’t get a chance to savor it. He moved faster, tugging at your panties just enough to expose you, fingers now teasing your sensitive skin, circling slowly, deliberately.

“You’re so wet,” he said softly, almost in awe, as he dragged his fingers lower. The way he spoke sent another rush of heat through you. “I wonder if you’ve been like this all night, haven’t you? Wet and needy, waiting for me to touch you.”

His fingers slid inside you without warning, and you gasped, your back arching against the bed as you dug your fingers into the sheets. Lorenzo’s thumb found your clit, circling it in a rhythm that sent your mind spinning. His pace was slow at first, just enough to drive you wild, but he wasn’t gentle. Not tonight.

“You’re fucking dripping,” he muttered, the words laced with both admiration and amusement. “Aw, poor baby. Do you want me to make you cum?”

You could only moan in response, your body reacting to his every touch, every movement. His fingers curved inside you, pressing against that spot that made your vision blur and your chest tighten. He leaned down, kissing the side of your neck as you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more.

“I bet you’ve been thinking about this all night, haven’t you?” he whispered, his voice a low, rough purr against your skin. “Wondering when I’d finally take what’s mine.”

You nodded, barely able to focus, your breath coming in shallow gasps. His fingers increased their pace, the pressure in your core building higher, tighter, until you were on the edge of losing yourself.

But just as you felt yourself teetering, Lorenzo pulled his fingers away, leaving you breathless and aching. He lifted his head, eyes gleaming with satisfaction as he watched your body writhe beneath him, desperately trying to find some relief.

“You’re not getting off that easy,” he said, his voice laced with amusement. “Not tonight.”

Before you could protest, he pulled you up, your legs wrapping around him as he kissed you again, deep and forceful. You didn’t get a chance to catch your breath before his hands were on your waist, lifting you effortlessly. You gasped as he positioned himself at your entrance, his eyes locked on yours, the heat between you both palpable.

“Now,” he growled, “I’m going to make you feel it.”

With one swift movement, he thrust into you, and the world around you seemed to fade into nothing. The pleasure hit you instantly, a deep, overwhelming pressure that had you gasping for air. He didn’t hold back. His pace was brutal from the start, each thrust driving deeper, filling you completely. The way he moved, so forceful, so confident—it made everything inside you tighten.

You couldn’t stop yourself from moaning, your hands scrambling to grab at his back, pulling him closer. “Enzo… Please…”

“Please what?” he taunted, his voice dripping with arrogance. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. I want to hear you beg for it.”

You swallowed hard, the words feeling like they were caught in your throat, but he was relentless. His thrusts were deep and unforgiving, each one hitting a new level of pleasure you hadn’t expected. His hands were everywhere—gripping your hips, slapping at your ass, as if marking you, claiming you. His lips were on your neck, biting, sucking, leaving bruises that only added to the fire burning inside you.

“Enzo…” you gasped again, unable to control the way your body moved against his. “Please, harder…”

He grinned against your skin, a breathless laugh escaping his lips. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

With a growl, he shifted his angle, pushing into you even deeper, his body slamming against yours with each thrust. You moaned louder, the sound filling the room as you felt the tension in your body intensify, the pressure building in ways you couldn’t control. His hand moved up to your chest, gripping at your breast through the lace, squeezing and pinching as he gave your nipple a sharp twist.

You gasped, the sensation sending shockwaves through your body, making everything inside you tighten even more. He laughed darkly, his breath heavy in your ear as he slapped at your tits, the sting of the contact making you wince, but the pleasure only grew.

“You like that, don’t you?” he purred, slapping your tits again, harder this time. “Like it when I treat you like a little slut.”

The sting of the slap made you gasp, your body trembling beneath him, but it was all part of the overwhelming pleasure. Your breath came in ragged bursts as he alternated between slapping and groping your tits, squeezing them harshly through the lace, pulling at your nipple again with a cruel twist.

“Enzo, please…” you whimpered, unable to stop yourself from writhing beneath him, your body aching with need. “I can’t… I’m so close…”

“Close?” he repeated, a wicked grin forming on his lips as he slapped your tits again, the sound of his hand meeting your skin ringing in the air. “You want to come, sweetheart? You need to beg me for it.”

His thrusts grew more forceful, more erratic, as he continued to abuse your tits, slapping them with no mercy. The sting mixed with the pleasure, and you could feel yourself tightening again, your body responding to his every movement. You couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Please, Enzo… I need you to let me come,” you gasped, your voice desperate.

With one final, deep thrust, he gave you what you wanted, and you exploded in waves of pleasure, your body seizing beneath him as you cried out his name. Lorenzo’s thrusts didn’t stop; he followed you, his own release coming in a sharp, breathless groan. He buried himself deep inside you, his fingers still squeezing your tits, almost as if to ground himself.

You both stayed there for a moment, still tangled together, breathless and satiated. Lorenzo leaned down, kissing your neck softly, his voice low and teasing.

“I love you,” he whispered, his hands softening their grip on your chest. “But don’t think for a second I’ll let you off that easy again.”

You smiled, the aftershocks of your orgasm still trembling through you. “Maybe next time I’ll make you wait longer.”

Lorenzo chuckled darkly, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “I’ll make sure you regret that.”

ficmas taglist: @winnie1emon @ur-local-wizard @satosugu4-ever @ankoluvs @superstargirll @slytherin-princess-x @abeoavita @mattheoriddle101 @georgiastars13 @smoooore @mattheoriddles-sluttt @2dloveshp @mattysprincess @catching-fire-in-the-wind @revesephemeres @esmerai-artemis @clar2aa @iamaconfusedpan

#fic recs ⊹₊⟡⋆!

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sweetieviktor · 1 day ago

Text

"happy birthday", feat. prototype! viktor.

summary: it's your birthday today, why not enjoy it sleeping with your partner?

word count: 360.

content warning: established relationship, reader has longish hair (enough to twirl it). and fluff! :p (and it might be a bit ooc im sorry for it

author notes: this one is a little birthday gift for a mutual ( @zerun0 ) bcs today is her bday and i wanted to do something! im sorry if its tiny, i needed to write it quickly :(. but anyway, hope u like it!! :DD ((and again im writing til 5AM oh fuck

behind the windows, the faint sunlight peeked from in-between dark curtains, making the room a only bit brighter, but enough to disturb viktor's sleep. he rolled to the side, yawning and rubbing his eyes, trying to pry away from his slumber.

he looked to the ceiling, blinking continuously, pupils still adapting to the light that now bathed the room, reflecting and projecting itself upon your sleeping form. and, janna, what an angelic sight.

first, he was just admiring you, he didn't want to wake you up early this morning, it was your birthday, you should decide things today. but he couldn't help it, his hands quickly found their way to your messed up hair, adjusting to it's typical placement, so it wouldn't bother you. soon he was playing with the ends of your hair, twirling it around his finger, amazed with how it curled against the metal.

“vik?”, when he heard your voice, he stopped his movements. you looked at him with tired eyes and furrowed eyebrows, it was uncommon for days to be this bright in zaun.

he let go of the hairlock he was toying with, placing the same cold, metallic hand over your cheek, caressing it, observing how your body relaxed and searched for more of his affection, “didn't think you would wake up this early, love. but, since you are already up –”, he got closer to you, kissing the top of your head, “happy birthday, my darling,” throwing a lopsided smile at you, now, kissing the cheek he wasn't holding.

“oh, thanks vik,” you placed your hand over his, warming a bit its cold exterior, “but may i make a wish now?”, he eyed you with curiosity, tilting his head to the side, making some grey strands fall over. you reached for them, smothering back to its place with your free hand, “what about just five minutes more, hm?” you playfully smiled at him, adjusting the blanket over you both, while hearing viktor's laugh being suppressed by his hand.

“quit laughing! i want to sleep!”, you said jokingly, trying to act as serious as possible.

“sure, anything you want, love. the day is yours.”

#—swe writes #arcane x reader #viktor x reader #viktor arcane #arcane #oh fuck its 5am i love my life #but happy bday zero!!! :DDDDDD #my mind is wonky. theres long time since i’ve written smth :(#still hope u like ur bday gift :]#thinking bout writing for other viktors skins ........#bcs the prototype one is just >>>>>

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chenlezip · 2 days ago

Text

spidey boy ♡

PAIRING : spidermark! x fem!reader

SUMMARY : you noticed marks been hiding things from you and after one fateful interaction with spiderman saving you.. you piece the dots together.

WARNINGS : creepy guy in the beginning, not proof read..

A/N : this is a little long.. >.< my love for spiderman and mark came out all together in this.. PLSS cast him !! (or dont.. i dont wanna share my man looking good in a spidey mask...) | also for me hitting over 200 followers, hope you enjoy ☺️

perm tag 🤍 : @injvns @polarisjisung

mark lee.. your best friend, roommate. he was hiding something from you. you noticed he came through the door, big backpack on his back with a few cuts scattered across his face. he just brushed it off as nothing but you could tell it wasn’t just nothing.

the next day while walking home, you were walking down the secluded alleyway that lead to your dorms. it soon started to pour down, you curse under your breath. you tried to shield your head before bumping into a strange man, he snickered as he looked down at you, “what's a pretty thing like you walking down here in the dark?”

you gulp as you look up.. of course this only has to happen to you. you try walking past but he reaches out and has a tight grip on your wrist, "aw baby, where you goin?" he smirked.

he pinned you against a nearby wall, the coldness of it making you shiver more. "l-let go!" you shout out before he covered your mouth with a scoff. "as if anyone is gonna hear you, huh?"

you both heard webs slinging around you, your eyes widening. the man’s face went from a smirk to a look of terror when he heard the familiar slinging of a web. he let go of your wrist and turned around, face to face with spider-man.

“well, well, well.” spider-man's voice rang out through the alley as he took a step closer. “looks like I caught myself a nasty little bug.”

before the man could run, the masked superhero quickly slung a web at him, pinning him down against to the wall. he turned to you, "you alright?" his voice sounded.. concerned.. almost as if he knew you? you just brushed it off and nodded, "um- yeah, i think so.."

“you think it’s a good idea to mess with random girls in an alleyway?” spider-man asked, his tone almost mocking, turning his attention to the male who is still struggling against his web. the man opened his mouth to speak but spider-man shot out a web, silencing him. “that was a rhetorical question. obviously, it wasn’t a good idea.”

the man eventually breaks free, running away screaming. the masked figure was about to go after him but he couldn't leave you alone especially with what just happened.. but he does decide to tease you, slinging a web up and pretending to leave. you look around, "spider-man?"

he ends up upside down behind you, tapping your shoulder, "forgot something i left here." you could see him grinning behind his mask. you smile, "how will i ever thank you, spidey?" you teased.

"well- i uh.." spider-man rubbed his nape sheepishly before you offered a kiss. "how about a kiss, hm?"

spider-man's eyes widened in feigned surprise, “a kiss? well..” he mused, his tone almost playful. “I suppose that would be a pretty good way to show your appreciation.”

you move your hands to the bottom of his mask, lifting it just above his lips. you widen your eyes, you know marks facial features from anywhere...

spider-man - mark - just looked back at you, his breathing hitching ever so slightly. you placed a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away after some time as you notice the rain getting heavier. "thank you again, spidey." he nodded towards the rain, “you should head back. don't want you getting wet out here, now, do we?”

he then shot out another web, about to swing away but stopped before he did. “and don’t go down this alleyway after dark again, alright? I might not be there next time.” you smile and nod, "fine.. i'll ask my roommate mark for a safer way."

his masked eyes widened slightly before he composed himself, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible. “your roommate mark, huh? lucky guy, having a pretty girl like you live with him.”

he then slung away as you walked back to your dorms, you smiled to yourself. you knew spider-man was mark, but you couldn't help yourself waiting to see what he would do when you get back.

you got back, entering through the door, running a hand through your soaked through hair. "mark?" you call out. there was a moment of silence before mark's voice answered from the living room, “yeah?” you walked over to where he was, seeing him in a white tshirt and grey sweatpants. he changed.. quickly? “you’re back,” he said, his eyes immediately landing on your soaked through hair.

"yeah- i uh, got home a bit later than usual because i had a problem in the alleyway and guess who saved me? spider-man.." you ramble a little, looking out the corner of your eye to see marks reaction.

you noticed his body tensing before he coughed, "oh- spidey huh? i'm glad he was there to save you." you continued, "he seemed really concerned.. as if he knew me?" mark's heart was thudding in his chest, but he tried to maintain a calm demeanour. “concerned, huh? well, that’s kind of his job, isn’t it? saving people and all.”

you nodded, "well- yeah, obviously mark, he's got to save people but it felt weird.. even when i kissed him, i recognised his lips.. you're not spiderman, right?"

mark's eyes widened, "huh- what? why would you ask me if i'm spidey?" "because your lips looked alike."

mark was caught completely off guard, his mind racing as he tried to come up with a believable response. he swallowed hard, his throat feeling dry. “that.. that’s just a coincidence, y/n. a crazy coincidence.”

you raised a brow, "uh huh.. and what about you coming back here to the dorms with various cuts and bruises - especially on your back."

mark cursed silently at himself. he had hoped you hadn’t noticed all the random cuts and bruises he’s been getting from his late night patrols. he quickly tried to come up with a plausible excuse.

“oh, uh, those? nothing to worry about, just some scrapes and bumps I’ve been getting. yknow, clumsy me.." he chuckled nervously. he didn’t want you to worry about his secret identity or the dangerous adventures he went through every night as spider-man.. you already were stressed from the amount of college work you had. he tried to change the subject, hoping to divert your attention away from everything. “so, uh, you had a good day apart from the alleyway incident, right?”

"it was okay, the usual.. but don't try and divert the conversation we were having, mark lee, you're making this more suspicious." you raise a brow, "let me have a look at your back."

"fine.." mark groaned as he lifted his tshirt up, showing you his muscular yet bruise and cut adorned back. you couldn't help your eyes drifting.. he had a really nice back. you shake your head. the male tried to steel himself for your reaction, mentally rehearsing a thousand different excuses if you were to find similarities between the injuries and what spider-man often sustained on patrol.

"you aren't just clumsy, apparently spider-man had an outing with black cat the other day.. you have a claw mark, right.. here." you whisper, placing a finger on it. mark swore under his breath as you pointed out the unmistakable claw mark on his shoulder. it was undeniable now that you’ve put the pieces together. he still tried to play dumb, however, and turned back to face you, feigning confusion. “claw mark? what claw mark?”

"don't play dumb with me, mark.." you huffed out as you sat down on the couch opposite him. mark knew he couldn’t keep up the act any longer. he let out a heavy sigh and leaned back against the couch. “alright, fine.” he muttered. “you win. I’m not just ‘clumsy’, I’m also.. spider-man.”

"shouldn't have come save me and i wouldn't of known it was you, hm? especially when we kissed, i recognised your facial features from anywhere." you smile. mark couldn’t help but scoff as you jokingly teased him. he rolled his eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. “oh yeah, because just letting you get mugged in an alleyway is such a great alternative, y/n.”

He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “and as for the kiss.. i couldn't say no to a pretty girl, i'm not an idiot.. but also - it was probably the best kiss i've ever had - i mean, upside down?"

you smile, "well.. since i know you're spidey, can i at least clean you up after you're in a bad fight?" mark's heart softened at your offer. the idea of you tending to his injuries and caring for him after a tough fight as spider-man was undeniably pleasing. he nodded, a small smile on his lips. “yeah.. I’d like that. but you’ve gotta promise to keep this between us, alright? no one else can know.”

"secrets safe with me, spidey boy."

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brotherwtf · 2 days ago

Note

How about Gale overhearing John talking about him to someone? (with positive outcome)

oooo now this is a very interesting prompt, thanks anon!!

decided to basically mash up all of my fave clegan scenes into one big rainbow scene, I hope you guys enjoy :))

----

John often ran his mouth, both sober and with a drink in him, but the stories always seemed to flow more with the flow of liquor into his system. Always bragging, always galavanting about someone or something to any ear that would listen, especially if it was about his favorite subject, Gale Cleven.

Exaggerating stories until the Major seemed more myth than man, talking to anyone who would listen about all of their escapades, good and bad.

And John would do it no matter if the man himself was there or not, and often did it despite Gale's best wishes.

But even now, as Gale sits on the edge of the dance floor, he can hear John's loud and unabashed laugh as he starts to weave another tale for the poor dames he has coerced. Gale noticed the slightly tense smiles of a woman who was originally only interested in getting beneath John's uniform now being blathered at by a Major far drunker than she expected.

"Nah but my buddy, Buck, here, he don't like sports. Not team sports anyway, likes boxing, 'test of manhood' or whatever the fuck that means," John says, eyes lazy as he points jovially back at Gale, recalling the night Curt lay an RAF pilot on the ground with a singular jab. Gale couldn't help but smile at the memory.

"Was gonna slug that RAF pilot himself the nasty fucker. Ah, he had it coming, don't you worry girls. Buck woulda knocked him straight on his British ass I just know it, there's nothing our Buck can't do, can probably take on the whole Luftwaffe by himself, all engines feathered. Hey, Buck!" John says, turning back towards Gale with loose limbs and gesturing for him to stand next to him.

Usually, Gale would be content to sit on the sidelines and watch John act a fool, but John was gesturing so heavily that it felt like he had a string attached to Gale's chest, pulling him over with just a beckon. Even when Gale puts himself right in the crook of John's body, right where he seemed to fit, John so easily puts his arm around Gale's shoulder.

"Tell em, No-Engine Cleven, nah I'll tell em, he's the best damn pilot in the 100th, hell, maybe even the whole air force, my Buck here is just too good, I wish I could fly half as good as him," John says, leaning his weight into Gale's, leaning so that his face is dangerously close to his.

Gale feels warmth bloom in his stomach but he just lets himself roll his eyes, wrapping a stabilizing arm around John's waist to prevent him from toppling over, giving the women a friendly yet tight smile.

"Easy there, Major, now I think it's best we turn in for the night. It was lovely meeting you ladies," Gale says, keeping his voice clipped and polite despite hearing the girls murmurs of how drunk John seemed to be.

The cool of the English night hits Gale's hot cheeks as soon as he drags John out of the officers club, hiding his tight smile into the night.

"Don't gotta go bragging on me, Bucky, I can hail my own victories," Gale says, breath misting in the air.

John smiles at him, swaying dangerously into Gale as they walk clumsily back to the barracks.

"It's all true, my love, someone's gotta say it and it might as well be me," John says, planting a wet smacking kiss to Gale's cheek.

Gale really should be more careful, but he seems to be getting drunk just on John's warmth and turns his head to press a careful kiss to John's lips, one that's far too slow for John's liking.

"It's my pleasure, Gale, you're my favorite thing to talk about," John says, a rogue hand coming up to squeeze Gale's cheeks and bring him in for another kiss, not being able to help the smile that spreads across both of their faces.

#clegan #mota #buck x bucky #john egan #gale cleven #asks

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sweetbillwriting · 3 days ago

Text

Way Out of Line

THREE

Beneath my perfume and make-up I'm just a baby in disguise. And though I know that it's wrong to be alone with him that "come on look" is in my eyes.

Character: Keith Toshko from Barbarian (2022) played by Bill Skarsgård.

Warnings: 18+, NSFW, heavy themes.

Notes: This will not be everyone's cup of tea. And I'm a rookie haha.

I followed the movement of his soft lips, and instead of feeling the excited urgency, I felt my body become mush in his arms, and my sex pulsed in the same rhythm. I moaned into his mouth, and I could feel him smile.

“That's it, honey…” he whispered encouragingly between kisses, and it made me giggle. It was something about how he guided me that was both sexy but also domineering. It was overwhelming to kiss him, to be so close to him in a way I hadn't been with my ex-boyfriend, Tim. There was a feeling in my chest that slowly spread to my limbs and made me feel dirty in all sorts of ways, and after a while the negative feelings took over. This was not me. I wasn't the type of girl who kissed married men, especially a man much older than me. I had always been the boring girl, who didn’t push the rules. I released his lips with a smack, and he looked at me with big eyes. He must have noticed my change of emotions.

“I'm sorry,” he said, fast and pulled away. I looked down at the ground, but I could see his feet nervously move. “I should go…”

I didn't look up and didn't say anything because suddenly I felt so uncomfortable and shy about it all. I was not a sexual person, and he was old. He really was old. He could have had children my age. I heard him leave my room, and I breathed out in relief. It was not a good idea; still, I could feel a pain between my legs, like a frustrated cramp. The shame got even worse. It was filthy and heavy in my chest. He was my dad's friend; it wasn't okay.

It was hard to sleep after that moment with Keith, and the anxiety crept around in my body like hungry insects, especially because I could still feel the pressure between my legs. I ran to the bathroom every fifteen minutes in the belief that I needed to pee, but I didn't need that relief; I needed an intrusion. I had never really masturbated, but after having laid with my legs crossed without being able to release the pressure, I needed something more effective; I needed something inside me. I didn't have the knowledge to make myself come, but it was enough to be penetrated for me to finally be able to sleep, even if I felt dirty by my own sexual feelings. I didn't want to feel what I did, so I tried to deny them. They weren't real; they were not me, just something my brain created after a bit too much alcohol.

×××

I had a weird feeling in my body when I started to wake up, like a nagging feeling of forgotten anxiety, and even if I wanted to ignore it, I started to search in my brain for the answer. At first I couldn't remember it, but when I moved and realized my panties were off and I just laid in my tank top, I remembered how I had slipped a finger deep inside of me to be able to sleep. I remembered the passionate kisses with Keith that had made me so sexually frustrated I had humped my own hand. It all was so dirty and shameful, and I looked down at my hand, disgusted by how deep my fingers had been in me. I tried to tell myself it was a one-time thing and stood up from bed even if I didn't have panties on. I couldn't even see them, and for a second I imagined Keith had crept into my room and stolen them, but it was then I found them tangled in my cover. I put them on, just to have something on, on my way to the bathroom to take a shower. Just like Christianity had told me, I tried to wash my sins away; I tried to scrub away my dirty thoughts and massage away every shameful feeling. It did kind of work, and I decided that I would forget about it all and leave it all behind. I fooled myself into believing I could do that and got myself to forget Keith actually lived in the house.

It wasn't that easy to move on when the man in my dirty imaginations sat by the kitchen table, eating egg and bacon with my father. He was there, and as soon as I saw him, I forgot my thoughts were sinful and embraced them instead of denying them. I didn't care if I was dirty, I didn't care if he was my dad's friend or that he was older than me. I remembered the image of his bulge in his sweatpants and thought about how his cock looked hard. I wanted him inside of me instead of my short fingers.

“Hey, honey, come and sit down with us,” said my dad who patted the chair next to him. There was a setting for one more person, and it was probably for me because my mom most often ate earlier than me and my dad. My dad was dressed in a comfortable jogging set, but Keith was dressed in jeans and a black zip hoodie. His hair was styled back, and it could be so that he had plans to go out that day. We glanced at each other quickly, but both of us looked away, and I sat down next to my dad, who gave me a side hug and patted my cheek.

“Slept well?” He asked and started to put up eggs on my plate. He knew I didn't eat bacon. I looked away, uncomfortable with the question, but gave him a low, “yeah.”

“Do you have any plans for today?”

He didn't ask me about my New Year's celebration or if I had been drinking; for him, it was probably obvious I had been a good girl and that Mom exaggerated.

“Um, I think I’ll just have a movie marathon…”

My dad grimaced, and I looked at him confused.

“What?”

“I'm sorry honey, but Disney doesn't work at the moment…”

“What?” I asked with a whiny voice. My dad looked at me almost in shame and played with one of my long locks that fell forward over my light yellow robe.

“I know, I can't log in and—”

“You can use my account,” said Keith suddenly, and by reflex I looked at his handsome face even if I didn't want to. He licked his lips that were shiny with grease, and he gave me a fast look before looking down at his bacon again. “Is there something special you want to see?”

“She always starts the new year with hopeful movies, right, honey? So Peter Pan and Alice in Wonderland?” My dad said with a smirk. I just nodded a little. Maybe my choice of movies also was childish and embarrassing, but Disney was such a natural part of my life I didn't think of it like that. I looked at Keith again. He had a stubbly top lip, and a strand of his hair didn't want to be a part of his slicked-back hairstyle and fell down in his eyes. He was too handsome to be a friend of my father's. He was way too handsome to want to kiss me. But he had.

“Thank you…” I mumbled and took the juice pitcher so I wouldn't need to look at him.

“We will go into town soon; Keith has a meeting, and I need to buy some things. Your mom is out with Felice, so you will be alone for a while. But I guess you can handle that? Now when you have Disney?”

“Yes, daddy,” I said and smiled at him. I could hear that I sounded like a ten-year-old, but we had that sort of relationship, so it was hard for me to stop. My dad always worried about me, and I was always eager to please him. Keith cleared his throat, but I didn't dare to look at him, and I wondered if he judged me for my polite behavior towards my father. He probably regretted that he had kissed someone like me, a silly girl.

×××

“You can fly!” Shouted the kids in Peter Pan while I sat stretched out on the couch with a bowl of ice cream in my lap. I still wore just pajamas even if it was 3 pm. I giggled a bit to myself when I thought about how many times I had pretended to be Lena, waiting for Peter Pan to come through my window. My biggest wish had been to never grow up. I had a nice time being alone and had no problems with it, so I was a bit disappointed when I heard the front door open.

“I'm so sorry, Keith, really. Do you want anything to eat or something?” Said my mom with worry. I turned down the sound in curiosity and tried to listen closely. It sounded like there were several feet in the hallway, and I could hear my dad clear his throat.

“No…” said Keith with a wobbly voice and sniffled. “I think I'm going to bed for a while… But thank you.”

It was obvious Keith was crying, and it made my throat dry up and start to scratch. There was something about hearing him like that that made me uncomfortable in so many ways, and I noticed how my hands were shaking too. I listened to him walking up the stairs slowly, but also my dad's deep exhalation after Keith had closed the bedroom door.

“Shit, Giselle… I really thought they would get together again,” said my father with a low voice, so low I almost didn't hear him. My mom's reply I actually couldn’t hear because she was whispering. I paused the movie and laid my hand on my chest. My heart was beating hard, and the dry feeling in my throat was now a painful barbed wire string from my heart up to my mouth. I understood what was happening, but I wanted to know more, so carefully I walked out to my parents in the hallway. My mom was hanging up Keith's bomber jacket while my dad was sitting down on the bench we had by the door. Both of them looked up at me when I tiptoed out to them.

“What's happening?” I asked, pretending like I hadn't heard as much as I had. My mom opened her mouth to say something, but my dad interrupted her.

“He got served with the divorce papers… So he is, of course, really upset.”

I nodded a little bit and looked down at the ground. I tried to keep my facial expressions in check because I was the only one of us three that knew Keith had been with another woman just the night before: me.

“Can you keep an eye on him?”

I heard what my dad said, but at first I couldn't understand the words and what he meant by them.

“Huh?” I looked at him confused and played with the thin bands of my tank top.

“We need to go grocery shopping. Can you take care of him?”

“Like how?” I asked, and I could feel my cheeks heat. My parents must have noticed, but they didn't understand why they became so rosy and must have made their own conclusions.

“Just check if he wants something if he comes out of the room. Nothing more than that.”

I nodded, and my dad gave me a thankful smile. They put on their outerwear again and left me alone with Keith. Their little girl and their old friend. They didn't have a thought, or even a half thought, that something could happen; that their little girl wasn't so innocent and the friend wasn't so trustworthy.

I continued to watch Peter Pan, but my thoughts drifted away to Keith over and over. I felt sorry for him and wondered if I should do something, but I was also afraid he would come down, and that I would need to comfort him. I thought about the night before, and in the light of day, I wasn't ashamed of it. I wasn't ashamed I had wanted him. Now I wasn't ashamed that he was married either because he would divorce, and the rest I could pretend were trivialities. I wanted him but I was scared of how much. I had never felt those sorts of feelings before, and it was frightening to feel how much I could lose myself in them.

“Hey…”

I turned to the doorway where Keith walked into the large room. His eyes were brimmed with red, but he wasn’t crying. He could have just been really tired, but I knew he wasn't, and the sniffle also exposed him.

“Hey…” I repeated and moved my legs and the blanket so that he could sit down on the other end of the couch. He sighed deeply and turned his gaze towards the TV. Something told me he just didn't want to be alone, so I didn't say anything, and just let him watch the ticking crocodile. I looked at him carefully a couple of times, and he smiled a little at the TV, and that made me smile too. After 20 minutes I dared to look at him completely, and he looked back at me and scratched his neck.

“Are you okay?” I asked carefully and sat up a bit better on the couch. Keith also sat up a little and took off his zip hoodie revealing the black t-shirt he wore underneath.

“Yeah… I knew this would happen. I just… It's a lot to take in, you know?”

I didn't know. How should I know? I had never been married, and my only relationship had ended when I was eighteen because Tim felt it became too serious, but I nodded anyway. Keith breathed heavily and dragged his hands over his thighs over and over. Something with his behavior made me feel braver, and I removed the blanket from my legs and scooted closer to him.

“Do you need a hug?”

Keith turned his eyes towards me, and for a moment we stared at each other intensely. As I sat next to him, I could see how he looked down over my body, especially my hardened nipples under my top. He looked up at me again and then moved my hair away so it fell behind my shoulders. He looked down at my chest again, this time more obviously. Just like the night before, a foreign feeling took over me that made me more confident and daring, so I pulled down one of the straps of my tank top slowly revealing one of my naked breasts for him to see. I looked him straight in the eyes while I did it and saw his eyes fall down to my chest when my nipple was exposed. Keith looked up at my eyes again and moved so he sat more towards me.

“You're such a beautiful girl…” His voice was low and raspy, and he laid his hand on my neck with his thumb on my jugular. I could feel the pressure between my legs grow again when he dragged his lips over mine sensually.

“My beautiful baby girl…” he whispered, putting some pressure over my neck. I moaned into his mouth when he kissed me and I laid my hands on his thick thighs. His hand moved down from my neck to my chest, and he released my lips to be able to look at his long fingers playing with my nipple.

“I've noticed your nipples are always so hard... Is it because you think so many dirty thoughts?” He looked up at me with a smirk and pinched my nipple hard. A pained groan left my lips, but the feeling also travelled down between my legs and made it hammer quickly. I didn't know what to say, so I let him kiss me again while my breast disappeared in his wide palm. His other hand held my head and steered me into every kiss. He used more and more tongue which made me feel that overwhelming feeling again. I was a good girl, but something took over me and gave me feelings I had learned to feel shame about. I was horny. I was so horny and wanted him in the dirtiest ways.

I dragged my hand over his crotch and could feel there was something alive under the denim. There was something moving in there. Keith pulled back a little so I could watch while he unbuckled his belt with a jiggle. I couldn't look away; I didn't want to look away. I wanted to see it. I wanted to see his cock. I thought of the word in my head: “cock.” I had never said it, but I knew I would call it that. He had a cock. My ex-boyfriend had a “penis.” Sometimes a “dick,” when I wanted to sound more relaxed, but I knew Keith had a cock.

He unbuttoned his jeans and pushed them down to the floor so that he wore just a pair of white boxers that didn't hide at all what was under them. I could see something long and thick and big balls being restrained under the tight material. Keith dragged a hand over the thick member causing the fabric to stretch even tighter. I could see veins and the shape of the head. I couldn't look away even if I felt I was blushing down to my chest.

“Have you seen one before?” He asked softly. His voice didn't match how dirty he looked with his legs wide apart and his cock trying to break free from the thin fabric. I just replied with a nod because my voice had disappeared at the same time my pussy had gotten wetter and wetter.

“You're not a virgin?” He asked and took hold of my chin so we could look each other in the eyes. I shook my head, and he looked at me with furrowed brows.

“I want you to talk to me. Hmm? Can you talk to me, baby girl?” He asked, pinching my nipple hard. I didn't know if that was some sort of punishment for not talking or if he just wanted to wake me up, but he got me to make a sound and then nod.

“I can talk…”

“Are you a virgin?” He asked again. I wondered why he asked that twice while I looked at him doe-eyed.

“No. I had a boyfriend.”

Keith nodded and gave me a soft kiss. He continued to kiss me softly, which made me relax. I felt safe with him, and when he leaned back and looked at me with kind eyes, I felt I needed to tell him something.

“It was a long time ago… And he was nothing like you. I… It feels new with you. You make me feel things…” Keith smiled a little and pulled me up on his lap. My pussy was pressed against his balls, and I could feel the hammering start again. I looked down at his crotch, seeing the thick line. Was it really that big?

“Do you want to see?” He asked, taking a hold of my chin again so I would look up at him. I looked between his eyes and lips, and that made him lean forward so I could press my lips against his again. I invaded his mouth with my tongue, but he slowed me down again when he took hold of my neck.

“Slow down, honey…”

My hands laid on his chest as I blushed. The feelings were everywhere, and I felt that intense pressure between my legs again. I was forced to sit down on his thigh and press myself hard against him.

“Does your little pussy hurt?” I looked up at him and nodded. Somehow it had become so much of an embarrassment that I worried it would be a permanent feeling. Keith sat up and shifted me from his lap, so I stood between his legs. He dragged his big hands over my hips and then took hold of my pajama pants and panties with his index finger. He looked up at me with a smile.

“Can I take them off?”

I nodded a little, too mesmerized by him and drunk on newly discovered feelings. Carefully he pulled them off, and I stepped out of them, so I stood in just my strappy top. Keith took my hands in his so I wouldn't be able to conceal myself when he leaned back. Now it was him who looked overwhelmed, and I could see his cock twitch.

“Completely shaved?”

“Yeah?”

“That was…” He cleared his throat and stared between my legs like he hadn't seen a woman naked before. “It was a long time ago… Can I touch?” He looked up at me with those big puppy eyes, and to my own surprise, I sat down over his legs. Straddling him with the soles of my feet pressed against the outside of his thighs. He could see everything.

A loud moan fell from his lips just by the sight of me like that as he dragged a hand over and over his member.

“Is this just for me?” He whispered, running his hands on the inside of my thighs. “Or do you give yourself to other men like this?”

I shook my head.

“Just you. You make me crazy.”

“Yeah?” Keith leaned forward and kissed my knee, then the inside of my thigh.

“I don't know what's happening with me…”

Keith smiled sweetly, then he turned his full attention to my pussy again. Carefully he put two fingers against me, shaped like a V, and massaged my outer lips, feeling my smooth skin. He breathed heavily, and after a while he let his middle finger drag between the lips, collecting my wetness. I could feel him stroke a spot higher up that made my whole body tingle, but to my disappointment, he just dragged his fingertip there teasingly. Instead, his goal was to penetrate me with his finger, and I wasn't all prepared for how rough he would do it. His fingers were long and thick, so when he pushed it in quite violently, my entrance cramped up at first and the pain shot out to my limbs.

“So tight... So tight...” he whispered. I had closed my eyes from the shock, but when he had started to pump his middle finger in and out of me in an even rhythm, I opened my eyes. The image before me shocked me because Keith had pulled out his thickness and jerked himself off in the same rhythm that he finger fucked me in. He was even bigger when I saw his cock like that, even while his big hand held it. He let his finger slip out of me and looked at me with such a sweet expression it was hard for me to not giggle.

“What?” He asked, showing off his deep dimple in his cheek. I giggled again, and he dragged his hands over my thighs. After having been watching each other for a while, he moved me away from him. The thought of him being pleased and finished stressed me, but he just pulled off his boxers completely so I could see his cock fully exposed. Had Tim been that big? Far from it. Did he really push that into girls? It wasn't possible. I continued to stare. I had just seen Tim's and had never really looked at it. I had chosen to never go down on him, and we had sex in the dark, but here I now sat next to a grown man that I had the feeling was quite well endowed. I wish I could say it was pretty, but a man's genitals were something else. It looked scary to me.

Keith smiled and pulled me closer so I could have my head against his shoulder, then he laid my hand on his thigh so I could decide myself if I wanted to touch.

“It's okay, honey, take your time…” he said and dragged his fingers through my hair. I looked up at him. It was so nice how sweet he was about it all and how much he took care of me. He really was such a man. I kissed him again and pushed my nose tip against his cheek. It felt like I was falling for him. That sweet, wonderful man. With his big cock. I looked down again and wrapped my fingers around him, feeling his girth and weight in my hand. Keith made a deep exhalation, but let me explore by myself. I dragged my hand all the way up to the head, feeling the mushroom tip against my palm. It was really wet, and I took the wetness in my hand when I dragged my hand all the way down to his balls. I looked at them a bit confused. I didn't know if I should touch them. I had never heard about that. I looked back at Keith, who sat with his head leaned back against the headrest, and he seemed to understand what I was wondering.

“I want you to play with them, roll them in your hands, squeeze them a bit carefully…” His voice was much deeper than before, so I looked at him with the biggest eyes. He smiled at me lovingly.

“You're so cute. Such a good girl.” I giggled a little at his praise and then looked down at his cock again, still in my hand.

I sat up a little so I could use both my hands, so with one hand I started to roll his balls in my hand; it felt a bit awkward, and Keith probably felt it too because he spoke up.

“Spit on them… Spit in your hands, baby...”

I looked at him confused, so instead he took my hands and pulled them towards his mouth where he spit several times into them. Long, watery saliva threads landed in my hands, but I wasn't grossed out. All of it was sexy in the heat of the moment. When I started to roll his balls in my hand again, they glided better, and with his hand over mine, we jerked his slick cock. He showed me the pressure he wanted. His breathing became more heavy with every stroke. I saw how his t-shirt had ridden up and how I could see a deep v-line but also a hint of abs. I leaned back looking at him with furrowed brows and how his wide chest rose and fell with each deep breath. He was so gorgeous. He was so sexy. I released his balls so I could touch myself, but when Keith noticed, he pulled me up over him and steered my pussy towards his cock.

“Take it. Fuck me.” He said it lowly, but I didn't dare. It was too big. “Take my cock. Take daddy's cock, baby girl.”

I looked at his face intensely, meeting his dark, lustful gaze. I wanted to but also didn't. I needed to make a decision. But not then and there, because when I looked out the window, I saw our neighbor Mr. Gardner look through the window, straight at us.

#bill skarsgård #bill skarsgard #fan fiction #writing #story #bill skarsgård writing #bill skarsgård fanfiction #fiction #barbarian #keith toshko #keith

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beef-brisket · 3 days ago

Note

Charlie gasped as a spear touched her throat. Once Adam and Lucifer realised she wasn't following, they turned and saw a short haired woman standing behind Charlie. Her spear outstretched.

Exorcist: Holt! In the name of the Father!

Charlie's eyes widened and slowly turned around. The woman's mouth hung open as she looked at the taller woman, her spear dropping.

Vaggie: C-Charlie...?

Charlie smiled and gently cupped her check: I'm so glad you're okay-! I thought they would have made you fall!

Vaggie leaned into her touch, resting her hand on top of Charlie's: N-No, I didn't fall. They... made a lot of threats. But I'm okay. And you're... with Adam?

Charlie glanced back at the two men who had unreadable expressions: Uh, yeah. It's a long story. Look, I think I'm going back to Hell, so maybe I'll send word to you somehow.

Vaggie: Okay, love. If not... maybe I can see you during the extermination-.

Lucifer: Extermination?

Adam: Hey, babe? Maybe not now.

Lucifer glared up at Adam: "Not now"? What do you mean by that? I'm the king, I should know about whatever this extermination is.

Adam rolled his eyes: Don't throw that king bullshit around with me. It won't work. Second, there's a lot of shit going on in Hell that you need to know about. But that's a conversation for when we get back.

Lucifer wanted to argue but decided not to. This wasn't the time or thr place, and he wasn't sure what headspace Adam was in.

Kissing her girlfriend, Charlie promised to see her again before going to the men's side to continue their way.

Charlie: Okay, we should be further enough away for you to open a portal, Lu.

Lucifer nodded and did as suggested. As Adam and Charlie walked through the portal, he felt eyes on him. Turning around, he saw Michael standing a few yards away.

He couldn't read his emotions. His face was blank, and his eyes looked dead. It was actually unsettling. But with a glare, Lucifer stepped into the portal and arrived back in Hell.

Once he stepped foot into his palace, he saw Adam checking over Charlie, making sure she was okay.

Charlie: I promise Adam, I'm fine! Really!

She laughed as he checked her hair and face.

Adam smiled: I don't know, kid. I could have sworn you were fighting the first man by yourself.

Charlie scoffed: Like he was a match for me.

Adam smiled. He felt bad for not really working with her when it came to her powers. Life seemed to keep getting in the way.

Adam: That's good to hear... I uh... how about later on, I show you how to do some cool shit, yeah? I've kinda been slacking on that front.

Charlie beamed: Really?! Can you show me how to summon a weapon?!

Adam: Sure, kid!

Lucifer: Adam. Can I speak to you out here?

Adam glanced at Lucifer before turning back and reassuring Charlie. He walked over to Lucifer, and they left the room.

Adam: What's up? Why do you sound so serious all of a sudden?

Lucifer: ...I understand it might be hard for you, Ad. But I need to know what happned once you arrived in Heaven.

Adam tensed: ...Why?

Lucifer: Did they tell you anything? Whatever this extermination is, I need to end it and gather as much dirt on Heaven as possible.

Adam sighed: Babe. You're fighting a war you can't win. And Hell has enough of those already.

Lucifer: Please, Addy. I... I'm in control, I need to know.

Adam: ...you've been in control for a few days. You can't rush into this, you know-?

Lucifer: Just- TELL me, Adam!

Adam: ...they told me how pathetic I am. Is that good enough for you? Or do you need it more words? How about this, they read me the letter you sent. Over. And over. They threw your ring at me. Told me you hated me. You never loved me. They cut off my fucking legs and arm, Lucifer! They didn't say anything interesting, just how much they want me dead and how funny it would be with my blade. So, don't pull your king of Hell shit out on me. I'm fucking, Adam! And Adam's had a rough fucking day. alright?!

Lucifer: Adam- u told you the latter was a lie-!

Adam: Oh yeah? Was giving them your ring a lie?

Lucifer: Yes-!

Adam: Then why didn't you grab it?! They threw it around and you didn't take it!

Lucifer: I'll make a new one-!

Adam: That's not the fucking point-!

Lucifer sighed; Then what is?!

Adam: I gave you that ring! I picked it out! Specifically for you! And you just... gave it to them... fuck, maybe it's a stupid thing to be pissed about, and it doesn't help that I haven't been laid in nearly a week, but fuck, Lu. I've... felt like fucking shthese last few days. First Seth and then Heaven... you gave me to them... like I was nothing to you. And maybe I am... Look. I don't want to talk about this now, I have to train the kid. Like I said, I would.

Adam rubs his face and walks out of the room, leaving Lucifer alone with his thoughts.

Lucifer: ...Shit...

I miss our God!Adam Au

Sequel 👀

In Canada Eh! Lmao

CANADA FOREVER

Yes plsss! I miss our stupid, power-hungry boy 😫😫

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ashblooddragons · 2 days ago

Text

The Red Queen (Chapter 14/?)

Series Masterlist

Kingslanding

113 ac

Your pov

I try to ignore the wails and screams that fills the halls. The swish of maids dresses as they rush down the halls with bloody rags trying to find clean ones. The whispers of courtiers trying to decide if the babe will be a boy or not.

I try, but I find even a deaf man would hear the wails that fill the keep.

All this pain for a babe? I think solemnly looking down at my flat belly. To think that one day a babe would one day grow there is baffling.

“Her Grace needs more hot water.” I hear a frantic maid say most likely to another maid.

I remember how happy I was finding out I was gonna be a big sister, now I wish I wasn't if only for her.

Papa and Ali asked for me to come to his chambers. I try to figure out on the way what it could be about.

Maybe there's gonna be another wedding? Nyra is betrothed to Laenor. I think just before the doors to Papa’s chambers open.

“Ah wonderful you're both here!” Papa says when I enter. I notice Nyra sitting next to him scowling towards Ali who only hangs her head and twists her fingers.

“Yes we're both here, now what do you need?” Nyra asks in that tone of hers. She's been speaking this way ever since Ali married Papa. I don't get why she blames Ali, Ali said she couldn't stop it even if she wanted to, and it seemed like she wanted to.

Papa grimaces at Nyras tone before smiling again.

“I-no we have wonderful news. The Queen is with child!” Papa exclaims taking Ali's hand in his not even looking at her.

I smile ear to ear when I hear this. “I'm gonna be a big sister?” I ask excitedly as I rush over to Ali touching her belly.

I never got the chance before, Papa said Mama was too sick that it just wouldn't happen for a while. But then she did, but then she passed.

With that thought I look up at Ali worriedly and she seems to notice my fears as she speaks next.

“The Maesters say it should be a healthy pregnancy. No complications, at least from what they can tell as of now.”

I smile wider, staring at her still flat belly trying to figure out if I'm gonna have a sister or brother. But then Nyra scoffs and glares at Ali.

“It's only been three moons since your wedding, and you're already with child? Interested.” She says as if she knows some dark secret and is all too happy about it.

I'm confused why the time between their marriage and the baby being here is important. I mean we all saw them kiss at the wedding, and many times after. It was only a matter of time those kisses made a baby.

Before Ali can cry from Nyras cruel words or Papa yell at Nyra I decide to speak.

“This is great, do we know if it's a boy or a girl?”

This makes Ali laugh as she looks down at me stroking my wild hair back. I know she knows own. I just went for a fly, I had told her that Srromchaser has been sad lately and I hoped a fly would help.

“We won't know until they are born. But what do you hope for?”

My immediate thought is that I hope Ali lives and doesn't pass away like Mama. But I know I can't say that, this is a happy moment, no sad thoughts allowed.

“I want a,” I start stopping to think one last time before responding. “Sister!” I decide with a nod.

She smiles down at me, she finally seems happy again. Like the Ali I knew before Nyra was mad at her and Papa married her.

“Oh but a son would be helpful, don't you want a brother, Darling?” Papa says with a forced grin.

I try not to frown at his words, Papa always wanted a son I never understood why though.

But what made me the most upset was how his words took away Alis smile. She was finally happy and he just had to ruin it.

I'm brought back when the screams finally stop, I feel my heart stop, I can't breathe.

Why is it so quiet? Shouldn't there be a babe crying? Surely if I can hear her screams all the way across the keep I would hear a babes cries? I think frantically as I climb out of bed clutching my Caraxes plush.

I move to open the door only to find Ser Criston. He doesn't seem to have noticed me having seemingly also been co fused by the sudden quiet.

“Is she alright, oh please say she's alright Criston.” I beg tears rolling down my cheeks.

He looks down at me frowning before kneeling and taking my hands in his much larger ones.

“I don't know, but I am going to find out. Stay here, a guard will be in front of your door. I will be back as soon as I can with news.” Ser Criston says before standing and turning down the hall in search of a maid or maester with news.

I try not to think about how he didn't say good news, only news. I know there is a chance she could die, but I prayed, I prayed so much she wouldn't. I prayed to the Seven like she taught me, to the old gods, I even tried to pray to the Valyrian ones like Kepus taught me. So surely one of them heard me and will follow my prayers.

I turn back into my chambers wiping my tears walking towards Orchid. She quickly sits me in her lap showing me the new hat she made for her son Noah.

“I was thinking of putting little stars along the hem, and for his sister Clover well she will have flowers. She says trying to distract me from the cruel wait to know if all is well.

I nod my head as I move Caraxes wings up and down pretending he is actually in the skins and not just a plush in my arms.

Kepus wouldn't make me wait this long, he'd let me know right away. I think eyeing the door for any moment when finally after what feeling like moons a knock comes to the door.

“The Queen awaits you, Your Grace.” I hear Criston say through the door.

Orchid quickly sets me on my feet and slips my wool slippers on as well as my silk shawl ‘to keep the cold away’ she says. Before running to the door with Caraxes still clutched in my arms.

“Is she alright? Is the babe? Oh please tell me they are alright!” I plead as he takes my hand in his guiding me towards the Queen's chambers.

He smiles down at me before nodding and I feel all the worry leave my body. I fight the tears of relief that they are alright, that they are still breathing, that they hadn't passed like Mother and Baelon did.

I can't help but notice all the courtiers who stand outside the Queen's chambers. I hear them whisper about how if it's a boy it would be the heir.

If it's a boy it would be heir? I wouldn't feel all this stress anymore? I wouldn't have all of court watching me? I think excitedly before remembering that if it is a boy it will feel all this stress, fear, and crushing weight on him.

No please don't let it be a boy, I don't want anyone to feel this, let alone a innocent babe. I pray to any gods that will hear me.

Ser Ceiston pushes them all out of our way until we yet to the doors.

“The Queen and King are excited to see you.” He says before opening the door and letting me in.

I step in taking in the sight of Papa talking to maester about something, and of Ali holding a bundle of blankets in her arms. I watch with bated breaths as she lifts her head to look at me. Her smile lights the room from its pure joy.

“Come here.” She says waving me over.

I waste no time running over to her tears of relief finally rolling down my cheeks. I climb into the bed sluggling into her side crying into her chest.

“What's wrong, Sweetheart?” She asks stroking my hair back so she can wipe my tears as they fall.

“I thought something bad happened, that you would be like-like.” I can't even finish the sentence but thankfully she seems to understand as she hums before responding.

“Me and your brother are perfectly fine.” She says and I can't help but look up at her wide eyed.

“I have a baby brother?” I ask looking down at the black and gold blanket again.

“Yes, his name is Aegon.”

I smile big as I move the blanket to the side to see his chubby cheeks and silver gold wisps.

“Like the conquer. I love it.” I say stroking his cheek.

His skin feels so soft, so fragile, like the finest silk. His cheeks are red and he seems to be asleep as his eyes are closed and he has yet to open them.

“I'm glad you like them, now I have two wonderful children. You and Aegon.” She says and I freeze turning to look up at her.

I see the joy bit also the fear in her eyes. But I don't know why she is afraid, I would be over joyed to be her child as well.

“Well we are lucky to have such a good Mama.” I respond and I see her wipe at her eyes fighting tears. At first I think she is sad but then she smiles and kisses my brow and I know they are happy tears.

“Can I hold him?” I ask to which she nods telling me to sit with my back against the head board and hold my arms out in front of me.

When Aegon is set into my arms I'm shocked how heavy he is. He's so tiny surely he isn't that heavy? I think looking down at him once he is in my lap.

“He's so cute.” I whisper excitedly to Ali.

“He truly is.” She says shifting her position only to whince in pain.

I frown going to ask if she is alright when she kisses my cheek and looks down at Aegon again.

“He looks just like you. Just with Papa’s hair, and I don't know what his eyes look like.” I whisper to her.

“You think so? All of the men say he looks like the King. And I hadn't gotten a close look at his eyes, but I do know they are purple.” She says stroking Aegons nose making him scrunch it up in annoyance making us both giggle.

It always strikes me as odd how she always refers to Papa as ‘the King', they are married and yet they only call each other by their titles. King, Queen, Wife, Husband, anything but their names or a sweet nickname. But instead of bringing it up I shrug it off like always looking down at my little brother again.

“I'm your big sister, I'll always protect you. Even when your big and strong, I'm gonna protect you from the bad people here. I'll guide you, teach you Valyrian, I even have toys you can pick from. Just not my Caraxes and Stormchaser plushes. Oh and not my dolly either, she looks just like me, even had my eyes.” I whisper down to him excitedly.

In my excitement I miss how Nyra walks in only to storm out once she hears its a son. But what I wish I didn't miss was how Papa stares at Aegon with disdain, and how the Hand looks at him like a tool. But Ali does, and because of this she holds me and Aegon closer silently swearing to the gods to always protect us even if it meant her demise.

Special thanks to my bestie @sugutoad for making the header for this fic! I swear I'd be lost without you girly!

TAGLIST: @sugutoad @ilikefelines @classicsimpforaaronwarner @sachaa-ff @mmogurl @athzhowakar @themoonlitquill @thelastemzy @fallenxjas

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