#but he was always his father's favourite and his father made sure he knew how much he loved him
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Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince:
Chapter 12
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Masterlist - Previous - Next
The Heartbreak Prince
"You’re staring…" Joris smirked and Charles immediately averted his gaze from Lauren.
"I’m just checking how much longer the food will take… I’m hungry." he said, looking back down into his book.
"Oh yeah you are hungry… but not for food." his best friend laughed.
"Stop it." Charles groaned.
"What? Am I wrong? Don’t think I didn’t see you adjusting your shorts when Lauren shows up wearing nothing but a bikini… especially the red one, that’s your favourite…"
Charles grabbed the pillow next to him and smashed it against his best friend’s face.
"I said stop it." he jumped up, leaving Joris behind who just chuckled.
Charles hastily walked inside, grabbing a cold water from the fridge and then left the kitchen again when Lauren called out his name.
"Are you okay?" her voice soft as he turned around.
"Sure, why you’re asking?"
"It sounded like you and Joris were arguing a little…"
"Wh-… no. No it’s fine, he’s just his normal annoying self…" Charles scratched the back of his neck, trying to look as comfortable and normal as possible.
"Oh. Okay… well, umm-… lunch is almost ready…" Lauren smiled at him and he nodded.
"Perfect, I’m starving! I just go and check on Ava, she was a little grumpy earlier." he walked off, straight into his bedroom.
The last days went by in a blur and with every new day he felt more and more drawn to Lauren. Everything felt natural with her. She fitted into his family like she always belonged to it. Everyone loved her. He understood why his mother was so full of praise for her. She was amazing. Funny and witty, bold but then again shy and sweet, always trying to make everyone feel good. Always trying to make everyone smile. And the way she took care of Ava made his heart almost burst. She was so loving and gentle with her. On the second day, after feeding her, Ava spit up all over her shoulder and back, but Lauren only laughed, cooing at her what a wonderful job she just did. She was always calm, making Ava no matter how fuzzy she was calm down as well. His mother called her a baby whisperer which Lauren only waved off but Charles agreed. She was a baby whisperer.
"Hey little princess… are you in a better mood now?" Charles leaned down, blowing raspberries at her and she began to happily babble "Yes you are… come on… let’s get you out of here… but first… new diaper… yep, definitely…"
10 minutes later he walked into the kitchen, a freshly changed Ava in his arms.
"Oh, hello little Miss Sunshine!" Lauren smiled at them and Ava began to wiggle in her father’s arms, chortling at her.
"Looks like she wants her favourite person to hold her…" Arthur joked when he grabbed the plates "And sadly it’s not me anymore…"
"You were never her favourite…" Charles rolled his eyes.
"Exactly that was me!" Pascale and Lorenzo said in unison and they laughed.
"Does anyone here consider me as her favourite?"
"You’ll always be her favourite… you’re her dad after all… there’s a special bond between you…" Lauren reassured him, washing her hands.
"Thank you, Lauren. Consider yourself my favourite person as well!" Charles said loudly, making his mother and brothers laugh, but when he looked at Lauren drying her hands he saw her cheeks being slightly flushed. He pretended like he didn’t notice and held Ava out to her and that beautiful smile made its way onto her face, lighting it up "Could you hold her for a moment? I have to go to the bathroom…"
"You don’t have to ask me twice!" she replied smiling at Ava who immediately snuggled into her, starting to play with Lauren’s necklace.
Charles walked back to his room, when he heard his phone ring. One quick glance and he already knew who called, making him groan. They couldn’t even let him have this family trip without bothering him. He picked up the phone, trying to stay calm.
"Hello?"
"Ah, Mr. Leclerc, and here I thought you lost your phone…" Cleo Bernoit.
"No, I haven’t. I’m just currently enjoying my summer break. Spending some well needed time with my daughter and family."
"That’s nice to hear. That’s exactly why I’m calling you. You and your daughter."
"What about me and my daughter?"
"Mr. Leclerc, we’ve talked about this. We just want what’s best for Ava. That’s what we told your lawyer as well, by the way…" she sounded annoyed.
"My lawyer only acts in my interest…"
"Making us sign NDA’s is in your interest? Why?"
"As you know, my life isn’t exactly quiet. Often I’m being followed by photographers and fans. I don’t want them to find out about Ava. Not yet when she’s this little. I have to protect her from the public’s eye. And with every person who knows about her, it’s more likely to come out that I have a daughter. So yes, letting you and everyone who has contact with me and therefore Ava sign a NDA is in my interest."
"That’s debatable but for now irrelevant. As soon as you’re back from your vacation, we’d like to visit you at home. We want to see how Ava’s days look like when you’re at home, or rather when you’re not at home…"
"When I’m coming back from my vacation the summer break is over and I have to work again…" Charles replied.
"Well, then I guess we pay your mother a visit… listen, Mr. Leclerc, you may not believe this, but as I explained to you already last week, we only want what’s best for Ava. We want her to grow up in a stable and safe environment. If you can provide that, you have nothing to worry about. Have a nice vacation." the CPS worker hung up, leaving Charles staring at his phone in silence for a while.
They already told him why they think his job isn’t the most suitable for a single father in the hospital and at last week’s call. He knew explaining it to them wouldn’t change their opinion. He had no idea what to do. He didn’t tell anyone about it besides his lawyer. Too scared to think much about it. What if they would decide he wasn’t a good enough father and took Ava away from him? What if he lost custody of her? All these thoughts were swirling inside his head, making him feel dizzy. His chest began to hurt, he felt his breathing constrict the more he thought about Ava being taken away from him. Her face that looked at him with her big eyes wide open, scared of the strange people taking her. Her cries and whimpers. Charles closed his eyes, trying to breathe but it didn’t work, it was like he forgot how to breathe in the last 30 seconds. He clutched his chest, right over his heart that was racing. His sight got foggy and he felt his knees buckling, touching the cold wood floor.
His ears were buzzing and he felt the bile rise up his throat when all of a sudden a warm and gentle hand on his shoulder woke him up from his frenzy.
"Charles?" a soft voice asked and he saw Lauren in his peripheral "Breathe with me, okay?"
She appeared in front of him, one hand still on his shoulder, the other one taking his hand in hers, squeezing it gently.
"Look at me, okay? Just follow my lead, deep breathe in… and out… in…. and out…"
Charles sight slowly sharpened again, the buzzing in his ears got quieter with each breath he took and his racing heart slowed down. His breathing was shaky, but he felt how his whole body slowly relaxed, the tightness and pain in his chest slowly ebbing away.
"You’re okay… everything will be fine… just breathe…" Lauren smiled at him and he swallowed hard.
Charles had no idea how long they sat like this. His eyes locked on Lauren’s. Breathing simultaneously with her.
"You feel better?" she whispered and he slowly nodded "Yeah? Okay, then come on, let’s get up…" she carefully pulled him up with her and then pushed him onto the edge of his bed before she turned away for a moment.
"Fuck…" Charles mumbled, ruffling his hair when Lauren handed him a glass of water "Thanks.."
She just smiled at him, squeezing his shoulder and then sat down next to him.
"Can I- can I ask what happened?" she whispered holding his gaze, her eyes sincere.
"I don’t know… honestly. One second I was fine and the next I couldn’t breathe, my chest hurt and everything was getting blurry…"
"You had a panic attack, Charles."
"What a fitting name…" he mumbled and closed his eyes.
"Was it the first time?"
"I think so… I mean I never felt like this before…"
"Did something happen?" her voice was soft and comforting and Charles could get lost in her eyes.
He wanted to tell her about the call he just received. His fears. But it wasn’t fair. He didn’t want to bother her with his problems and so he slowly shook his head.
"No… I was just thinking that next week I’ll be back in Maranello and the second half of the season starts…" Charles lied and Lauren nodded.
"Okay? And that’s scares you?" she asked.
"I’m not having the best season so far… and after the last weeks with you… with you guys here? Maybe not scared but it definitely doesn’t excite me as much as it used to…"
"Hmm… I understand. I honestly don’t know what to say… I’m not really into F1 to say much about it." Lauren replied shyly but Charles shook his head.
"It’s fine… you helped me, that’s enough!" he smiled, ruffling his hair "Can we please go now? I’m starving and the food you all prepared looked damn good!"
"Yeah! Sure! Let’s go!" she got up, giggling lightly, a sound that made Charles heart flutter.
"Lauren?" he called after her and she turned around "Can this- umm can what happened stay between us? I don’t want the others to be worried… I know I’m asking a lot…"
"No, it’s okay… I understand… your secret is safe with me…" she smiled and he sighed relieved. She stretched out her hand for him to take, wiggling it in front of him "And now come on! I’m starving too!"
Charles was lying on one of the sun loungers, his tired eyes softening as he watched Ava sleep on his chest. Her fluttering eyelids, plush lips, every gentle rise and fall of her tiny body with each of his breaths was like balm for his soul. Her adorable sounds like a melody to his ears, soothing him in a way nothing else could these days. He still felt the panic attack from 2 days before in his bones. The way his breathing constricted making him feel helpless. The upcoming visit of the CPS occupied his mind. He still had to tell his mother about it all, but he was too scared. Saying it out loud made it real. For now it was just like a dark cloud looming over Monaco for when he returned back home. The fear of losing Ava paired with the weight of the season, the failed upgrades, the race results that haven’t gone his way, it was all a lot to take in, but in a moment like this, where he watched his little girl sleep on his chest, they all seemed to fade into the background as he focused on the peaceful rhythm of Ava’s slumber. In the rare quiet moments Charles had with her, he could forget about it all. No fastest laps to race, no expectations to meet, no CPS to convince he was doing a good job as a father. Just the warmth of his little girl, her trust in him, and the overwhelming love he felt for her. In these moments, all the noise of the world seemed to disappear and he found comfort in her presence, like a shelter from the outside world. It made Charles realise that even when things weren’t going his way, he always had something to come home to that made all the blood, sweat and tears worthwhile. He knew he would do everything for her. He would give his life for her.
"Charles?" his mothers soft voice made him look up from his little girl "You should lay down inside… it’s quite hot out here and you’ve been laying here for quite a while now…"
"What time is it?" he mumbled, looking at her.
"It’s half past 3…"
"Oh yeah… I lost track of time. I was lost in my thoughts…" he sighed.
"Yeah, I could tell…" she sat down on the chair next to him "Do you want to talk about it?"
"Yes… but not now. I need a day or two to sort it all out in my head." he sat up carefully, making sure to not wake up Ava "I didn’t even realise how hot it was?" he felt the sweat dripping down his face, wiping it away before he felt Ava’s skin "She feels a little warm…"
"It’s okay… just go inside and both have something to drink." Pascale smiled and he nodded, walking up the stairs of the terrace and then inside.
The fresh air gave him goosebumps and he cradled Ava closer to his chest when he walked towards the kitchen. He got greeted with the polished steel door of the fridge, hearing someone rummaging through it before closing it. Lauren turned and flinched and she looked for a moment like a deer caught in headlights.
"Oh hi… gosh you scared me!" her voice shaky.
"Sorry! I just wanted to grab something to drink for us." Charles replied and the girl nodded, already grabbing one of Ava’s bottles from the sink "You don’t have to, I can-…"
"It’s okay…" Lauren smiled and grabbed the formula, carefully measuring the scoops. While she watched the water warm up to the right temperature, she grabbed a glass from the cupboard over her and opened the fridge again "Just plain water is boring. I cut in some fruit or cucumber and mint. What would you like?"
"Umm-… I try the cucumber and mint one." Charles smiled at her and watched her fill his glass "Thanks." he took the glass from her and tried it "Pretty refreshing. And not boring."
"Right?" she smiled and prepared Ava’s formula, shaking the bottle before she squirted a little something on her wrist making Charles cock an eyebrow.
"You know that the water will heat up to the exact right temperature, that’s the whole point of this gadget…"
"I know… but I just don’t trust it. I don’t want it to be too hot and hurt Ava…" she shrugged and Charles felt his insides warm again.
"You’re too sweet…" the words were out before he could do anything against it and Lauren blushed immediately "I mean… the way how you look out for Ava, not even just Ava, for me? When Maman said you’re the sweetest girl, I didn’t know what she meant. Now I do."
"I owe your mum a lot… so yeah, that’s my way of thanking her…" she mumbled and handed him Ava’s bottle.
"And it’s a sweet way. A very caring way. Thank you…" Charles smiled and left the kitchen to sit down on the sofa, just right in time for Ava to squirm around, opening her eyes looking at him "Hey girlie… did you have a good sleep?"
As if she understood him she nodded slightly and then yawned, making an adorable sound. But it didn’t take long for her to start crying and he already grabbed the bottle, feeding her.
"There you go… already prepared, no need to cry, princess." he smiled at her leaning back into the cushions.
He watched her face, how her tiny nose scrunched up, her eyes half open, cheeks slightly pink from just waking up, when Lauren walked past him carrying two big plates outside. Everything she did, she did effortlessly. She always looked graceful. Always looked well put together. Even in the morning, after just waking up and she was just wearing shorts and a top, she still looked perfect. He couldn’t stop looking at her and his mother’s words about how she could’ve been a supermodel if she wanted to, were omnipresent in his mind because his mother was right. She really could be a supermodel. But a real one. Wearing beautiful gowns in the runways in Milan or Paris. Not these wannabe social media models.
"Charles?" this time he flinched, when Lauren stood in front of him "Sorry!"
"No, it’s okay, I was just umm- lost in my thoughts!" he said quickly, smiling at her.
"Oh, good thoughts?" she cocked and eyebrow, smirking.
"Umm-… yeah, I’d say so."
"Good. That’s really good… here, I made you a fruit plate as well…" she sat down a plate full of melon, pineapple and mango chunks, strawberry half’s and blueberries and he realised that the two big plates she carried outside must’ve been fruit plates for the rest of them by the pool "And some more water, you need to stay hydrated, you know."
"Thanks Lauren…" it was really like he said, she was the sweetest.
"Let’s trade, I get the little princess, and you can have your snack…" she held out her hands a moment later she was feeing Ava, looking at her lovingly.
"I honestly have no idea how we would’ve survived this vacation without you…" Charles said after a while and Lauren looked at him "It’s not just that you look out for Ava and me, but everyone! I’ve seen it. You make everyone around you feel good. Always prepare little snacks here and there. Make sure that everyone stays hydrated or puts on enough sunscreen…"
"I guess that’s just a part of me since I’m a nurse… I can’t help it but to make people feel good and look out for them… especially if it’s people I like a lot… and I do… like you all a lot…" she replied shyly, her cheeks again slightly red.
It was adorable how fast Lauren blushed. The tinniest of compliments or nice things about her being said already made her blush and she turned shy. Always deflecting and asking for them to stop. She wasn’t anything special or wasn’t doing anything special. But she was wrong. She was. She was something special.
"Oh good job, Ava! That was a good little burb!" Lauren cooed at the little girl who began to babble happily, playing with Lauren’s hair "You like hair, hmm? Maybe you’ll become a hairdresser just like your grandma when you’re older?"
Charles chuckled. Watching the two girls next to him have a kind of conversation, while happily snacking the fruits Lauren had prepared for him. It was easy with her around. Just watching her and Ava. Like it always was like this. Maybe it could be something, that always would be like this, too.
"And you’re staring again…" Joris chuckled and Charles groaned "It’s okay. You can just admit it."
"Why don’t you just shut up, hmm?" he said and looked away from Lauren, stretching out next to Carla with Ava in her lap, laughing at what she just said.
Joris was right, he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her. The way the red bikini clung to her skin seemed almost too perfect, catching the sunlight with every subtle movement. Every curve of her body seemed perfectly sculpted, the fabric hugging her in all the right places, and he could feel a deep heat rise within him. His heart raced, a mixture of desire and something deeper, but the attraction was undeniable. But again it wasn’t just her beauty that held him in place, rooted like he was in some trance. It was the way she interacted with Ava. Her tiny hands seemed to reach out for her every time she spoke softly to her. Every laugh, every tender word she whispered to his little girl, made his insides feel as though it was melting. There was something about the way she was with his daughter that stirred something deep within him. Over the past weeks he realised that he had never seen anyone make such a natural, effortless connection with Ava. And the longer he watched her, the more he realised that it wasn’t just Lauren’s physical beauty that enchanted him. It was her warmth, her kindness, the way she was able to make his daughter giggle, her big eyes sparkling.
"You know, it’s kinda obvious that you have a thing for her, that you’re more than attracted to her… so why not act on it?" Joris said after a while and Charles thought about his words.
He shifted uncomfortably, his pulse quickening as he tried to force his thoughts to calm down, but it was no use. Joris was right. His own body betrayed him with every lingering glance and he got up, groaning.
"Just shut up!" he hissed before he jumped into the pool, needing to cool down.
"Sure. That’s also an option…" Joris laughed but Charles ignored him, swimming a few lengths to get his mind out of the gutter.
For now he had other problems to focus on. With their vacation coming to an end in 3 days he knew that he had to talk to his mother about the CPS. And he dreaded it already. He needed a clear head for it. So he swallowed down whatever it was he felt for Lauren and prepared himself to tell his mother about what was to come as soon as she would return to Monaco with Ava.
"You’re kidding, right? Your job?" Pascale looked at Charles with big eyes.
"They are afraid that I can’t take care of her, because of my job and dropping her off at yours all the time can’t be the solution. They say as her father I have to be more present in her life. It’s important for- umm what did they say? Bonding? Form a bond? Well yeah I told them that it’s not so easy with my job and that taking her with me is not an option because how is that gonna work? But they were very clear that they will have an eye on me and also pay me or rather you a visit as soon as we’re back to see how Ava lives. How a normal day looks for her…"
"And that all just because you were responsible and went to the hospital with her when you weren’t sure what to do?"
"Apparently I should’ve known it myself… or better I should have a girlfriend or wife who should’ve known it…" Charles was exhausted, plopping down on the sofa.
"Now that’s just… that’s just stupid. Ava is your first child, it’s normal to not know everything! And she’s the happiest little girl, it’s not fair of them to make you feel like you’re a bad father when you’re doing everything that you can to be the best dad for her!" Pascale sat down on the coffee table, taking her son’s hands in his "Don’t let them make you believe you’re not a good father, okay? The sacrifices you make to keep Ava safe? To make sure she’s healthy and happy? Don’t believe for one second that what they are saying is the truth!"
"I’m trying to, I swear… but it’s hard. Because to some degree, they are not that wrong. Most of the time she’s with you instead of me…"
"Because you have a very demanding job! One that isn’t easy at all. But one that will provide your daughter with everything she’ll ever want and need!"
"I know. And that’s why I’m just so… gosh I don’t know…" he swallowed hard and his mother squeezed his hands.
"Don’t be so hard on yourself… you’ll find a solution. We’ll find one…"
"I don’t know, Maman. I mean, what am I supposed to do?" Charles got up, pacing back and forth "I can’t stop racing. It’s my job. My career. My life!"
Pascale thought for a moment. The thought she had for weeks now coming back to her mind and she got up as well.
"I have an idea…" she said slowly, a mischievous smile forming on her lips when she looked outside and Charles followed her look, his eyes landing on Lauren, Ava in her arms, swaying her slowly around.
"I’m listening?"
"Lauren." Pascale simply said.
"Lauren?" Charles repeated, cocking an eyebrow "That’s it. That’s your idea? Lauren?"
"You need a full time nanny. One who travels with you to your races and all…"
Chapter 12 - Happy (belated) Valentine’s Day ♥️ and what a way to celebrate it! Charles and Lauren are just the cutest! I really enjoy writing them and I hope you guys enjoy reading about them!
Please leave a comment/ like/ reblog/ message and tell me how you liked it! I'm dying to hear your thoughts!
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Last but not least, English is not my first language and although I tried my best: please excuse any mistakes I made!
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#charles leclerc#charles leclerc 16#charles leclerc f1#charles leclerc x oc#charles leclerc fanfic#charles leclerc fic#charles leclerc imagine#charles leclerc as dad#dad!charles leclerc#cl16#cl16 x oc#cl16 fanfic#cl16 fic#cl16 imagine#ferrari#scuderia ferrari#formula 1#formula 1 x oc#formula 1 fanfic#formula 1 fic#formula 1 story#formula 1 fandom#formula 1 imagine#f1#f1 x oc#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 writing#f1 fandom#f1 story
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a drow adopting a gith kid is something that can be so personal actually
#naviidi backstory infodump for context:#naviidi was born to a noble house in menzoberranzan and was the firstborn child of his mother#who was/is his house's matron mother#and when he was born his mother was pissed that her firstborn was male and was going to have him sacrificed to lolth instead of raising him#but his father/her favoured consort begged her to let naviidi live and swore that she wouldn't have to do anything for the baby but feed hi#and she eventually relented and let naviidi live on the condition that he couldn't keep any other sons they had#and that as soon as her body had recovered they would try for a daughter#so naviidi's oldest sister is close enough in age to him to be “irish twins”#and his oldest sister and mother both despised him for being born first and a male#but he was always his father's favourite and his father made sure he knew how much he loved him#when the party ran into the woman from the society of brilliance he was staunchly against kidnapping an egg for it to be raised#by members of another race#but he and lae'zel went poking around the hatchery out of curiosity#and when he spoke to the varsh he could feel the same desperation his own father had when he was born#and it moved him enough to persuade the varsh to let him take the egg to save it and find a new creche for it to hatch in#i'm not sure what i want to happen with him and the egg post-game#but he's still pissed at the society for trying to kidnap the egg to use to push (what he sees as) their own propaganda#so he doesn't give it to them#bg3#baldur's gate 3#bg3 screenies#drow tav#bg3 oc#bg3 tav#crèche y'llek#naviidi tag#jonathan rambles
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scary? my god, you're divine
Hitman/Mob!Bucky x Reader
Run-through: Your marriage to Bucky Barnes was crucial in stopping the rivalry that had been getting rather violent recently between the two families. You agreed to it. But there was one little problem. Although people knew of Bucky as being a ruthless, fiercely loyal, and feared hitman, no one had ever seen his face. In the rare occasions when he’d been seen out during assignments, it was rumoured that he always wore some sort of mask which covered most of his face. So you ended up marrying a man, and had no idea what he looked like. But surely that wouldn’t be an issue. It’s not like his one touch would get you addicted. Who cared what he looked like? It’s not like you could grow to love someone like him anyway… right?
Themes: arranged marriage, age gap (reader is in her mid twenties, bucky’s in his late thirties), mentions of violence and death, hitman!Bucky, smut, fluff, explicit language, virgin!reader, HEA
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Something woke you up in the middle of the night.
And you’d been staring at the dark ceiling above your bed for the past few minutes now. What had woken you up? It could’ve been the strong winds hitting the large Georgian windows. Or perhaps it was the soft ticking of the nearby clock. Or maybe even the weight of all the incessant thoughts running through your head.
Gods, you thought, what a day.
It had started out like any other. Your father was pacing around, worried and barking orders on the phone, trying to find a way to put a stop to this chaos that was quickly forming into a full war between him and his number one rival. Small attacks had turned to frequent drive-bys, threats had turned into taking turns and blowing up each other’s warehouses and clubs. And it would only get worse and worse.
But this morning, as he watched you come downstairs and into the dining room for breakfast, something in his eyes was different. And you could tell what was coming. You had been thinking about this for days. So when he sat you down and discussed how you could do your part in helping to put an end to all of this.
“It’s only a matter of time before he sends his son, his favourite weapon after us all,” Your father sounded defeated. “And none of us would survive him. No one ever does. You know that.”
You nodded, understanding what he meant. “I know.”
The son of your father’s rival, Bucky Barnes, was a name which could make even powerful men like your father tremble in fear. He was like a ghost. No one ever saw him. No one knew what he looked like. Those who had seen him claimed that he always wore a muzzle-like mask to conceal his identity. He was known for being his father’s most prized weapon. They say he never misses, that his aim is and has always been as sure as Eros’ arrows. He was like an evil Cupid.
“The marriage would only be on paper of course, you don’t have to live with him.” Your father explained, seeming desolated, “But you being married to him would make us family, and…” He trailed off, sighing.
But you knew what he meant. Family meant everything in this society. If your family and the rival’s were joined to each other by marriage, all attacks would cease. Because keeping family safe was everyone’s number one priority, even in this line of work.
So this was all up to you now. Your family’s safety, the safety of people who worked with and for your father, all the allies, and friends, and acquaintances. It was a heavy weight to carry.
“I’ll do it.”
Things happened so quickly after that. Phone calls were had, arrangements and deals were made, and by the afternoon, a sheet of paper was brought to you. That’s it. No groom, no fancy shit. Just a piece of paper on which Bucky Barnes had already signed. And with your signature added next to his, you two were now forever husband and wife by law.
It was weird, being married to a man you had never seen before. He was just a name. Granted, a name with immense magnitude in the society, but still just a name. No face to go with it.
By the evening, your things were packed. It was an order by your new husband. He wanted his new bride in his home, and things were so freshly mended that neither you nor your father wanted to argue. So Bucky sent cars and a bunch of his soldiers to escort you to his house. It was not unexpected that he was so absent from all this. Bucky Barnes had a reputation of living in the shadows. He was so rarely seen.
Bucky’s house was not too far from your family home. In fact, the closer you got to your new home, the more you realised that despite everything, you did not mind this as much as you thought you would.
Your husband’s home was this stunning piece of architecture. A lavish Georgian-style mansion. Beige stone, carved details and mouldings around the many windows and main entrance. Dark shingles on the roof, well-manicured lawn, a long driveway giving it a sense of both elegance and exclusivity. The mansion sat on a beautiful, seemingly endless estate. Lush and green. It was a testament to the wealth and the power of its owner.
You were politely led inside the home by one of the many staff members who took care of the house. And the interior was just as breathtaking. Luxurious, with the right amount of vintage accents.
“We did what we could with the limited time we had to prepare a room for you.” The kind lady had said to you. She also mentioned that this room would be entirely yours. Bucky apparently had his own on the other side of the mansion.
You murmured that it was alright, and when she finally showed you to the room they had ready for you, you were pleasantly impressed. The layout, the colour theme, the decor, all of it was to your liking. You even had a personal little balcony which looked over the endless green backyard.
That night you dined alone, which was not a surprise. Everyone knew Bucky Barnes was a busy man, and he was apparently above trivial things like dining with his new wife. But the silence was welcomed. After dinner you found yourself back in your bedroom, and soon in bed with a book.
Well, maybe this was your new life now. Grand mansion with an impressive library. Solo dinners and kind staff members. A giant, dreamy bedroom all for you. Dare you say, it wasn’t too bad.
–
But here you were now, unable to fall back asleep after some mysterious thing woke you up. You sighed, sitting up and leaning against the headboard. You couldn’t even blame your new surroundings for your inability to sleep. Everything here was so quiet, and comfortable. Even this new bed felt like laying on the fluffiest cloud. Perhaps you could read some more–
You froze when you heard it.
Someone breathing. Someone else’s breaths. A soft exhale, but it was enough to make your heart race in panic. It was the middle of the night. And there was someone in this dark room with you.
Slowly, you tried to reach for the lamp on your bedside table to turn it on, but then you heard a voice say, “Don’t.”
A smooth, relaxed, male voice. Sounding like it came from one corner of the room. It could only be one man, couldn’t it?
“Bucky?” You questioned, for some reasons pulling the covers up to your chin as if he was not a man but a ghost.
A pause, then he said, like he was gently teasing you, “Hello, wife. Can’t sleep?”
You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness better. You strained your eyes until you could see the silhouette of a man in the corner of the room. He was sitting in one of the sofas near the unlit fireplace, quiet, still like a marble statue.
There was almost no light coming into the room. The thick curtains allowed very little moonlight in, and it was hard to see. But you couldn’t ignore that large silhouette now that you’d noticed him. Something near him was shiny, almost metal like, you couldn’t tell what it was.
“Do you always lurk around in the shadows like a ghost?” You asked, wondering where the hell you found the confidence to talk to one of the finest hitmen like this. It’s not like he would shoot you if he didn’t like you. A small voice said. Would he?
A chuckle. Deep, and careless. A boyish sound.
“It’s my house,” He responded in that same gentle but teasing tone, “I lurk wherever I please.”
Well, he did have a point there.
“Well then,” You said in a casual tone, “If you’re done lurking and spying on me, I’d like to go back to bed.”
A soft scoff. Then he said, “I’ve watched you toss and turn for the past half an hour. I’d say you’re having trouble turning your brain off.”
Half an hour?!
“Wouldn’t you?” You retorted, keeping your voice calm and steady. “If you were forced to marry someone who’s so mysterious that no one’s ever seen them before, wouldn’t you have some trouble turning your brain off?”
“Ah.” He got up, and you could tell by the sound of his footsteps that he was approaching the bed, “No one forced you to marry me. A suggestion was made and you agreed to it.”
You replied quickly, “The alternative was watching everyone I love and myself be murdered by you, so semantics.”
Another chuckle as he stopped at the edge of the bed, so close to you. You refused to move. You tilted your head up but could still only see his silhouette. He spoke in that teasing tone again, “They said you were smart, and beautiful. Guess they forgot to mention you were bratty too.”
You frowned. “What?”
Silence. Then he began moving away from your bed and towards the door. “Good night, wife.”
“Good night,” You muttered, slightly annoyed and confused, “Ghost.”
You heard his soft chuckle right as he shut the door behind him and left you all alone again in the dark. You didn’t dare turn the lamp on even after he left.
—
“Is Bucky ever home?”
You asked one of the staff members at breakfast the next morning. The lady smiled at you and answered, “He keeps to himself. We rarely ever know if he’s home or not. He works at odd hours, you see? Besides, our job is to take care of the house. We clean, we make the meals and leave them in the fridge, we get our paychecks each month. Everyone is happy. We don’t pry.”
You nodded, sipping on some tea. “So… are you one of the people who don’t know what he looks like?”
“Oh no. I saw him recently.” She said, smiling.
“How recent?” You asked.
“A couple of months ago. He’s a busy man, he’s rarely ever home.”
Unbelievable.
“Doesn’t it feel like you’re employed by a ghost?”
She smiled again, refilled your cup and said, “Oh, we’re used to Mr. Barnes. Sure, sometimes it feels like the house is way too empty. But look, now you’re here! We get to take proper care of someone for once.”
She was so cheery and kind that you couldn’t help but smile at her words. How on earth did a man that grim manage to have the best staff members in the whole world?
—
The following night, Bucky came to see you again.
You woke up upon hearing the door of your bedroom opening. You sat up again, leaning against the headboard. You didn’t reach for the lamp on your bedside table this time. Instead you said, “Lurking again, I see.”
“Oh yes,” He answered, taking a seat on the same sofa by the dark fireplace. “How was your day, wife?” He asked, as if this was the most normal way to have a conversation.
“Good.” You said, “I spoke with your staff members. They say they barely ever see you at home.”
He sighed, “I barely ever am at home.”
You rolled your eyes even though you knew he couldn’t see it. He was too… intangible. Faceless. There was nothing you knew about him aside from his profession. And not knowing was starting to annoy you.
“Why can’t I see you?” You asked. “I mean it’s not fair. I married you. I’ll eventually see you someday.”
He was silent for a moment. Then asked, “Will you?”
“Well, yes.”
“What for?” There was that teasing tone again. So subtle. But it was there.
Your face burned. “Well… we’re married.” You stated the obvious. “And it won’t be long till our families start asking for, you know, grandbabies.”
“Babies can be made in the dark.” His smooth voice felt like a gentle caress. Like the finest, cool silk sliding over your warm body…
Oh no. You can’t like his voice. Not yet.
“That’s not what I–,” You sighed, “Why are you so against showing your face? Are you ugly?”
He chuckled then. Loudly, if you could see him you’d surely see his shoulders shaking. “You think too much, wife.” He got up again, ready to leave. “Good night.”
You sighed, defeated, and listened to the sounds of him leaving the room. Then almost angrily whispered, “Good night, husband.”
—
“It’s because he’s ugly, isn’t it?” You asked two of the staff members one morning while they set the table for your breakfast. “That’s why he doesn’t show his face?”
The two ladies chuckled to themselves, and one of them said, “No he isn’t.” She sounded confident too.
“Have you seen his face? Like properly?”
They both nodded.
“And? You don’t find it weird that he doesn’t show his face?” You questioned. “He refuses to let me see him. He only comes to talk to me in the dark. Like some messed up Eros.” You whispered the last part to yourself.
One of the ladies said, gently, “Give him time. He’s not… terrible.”
—
“Your staff speaks highly of you.” You said to him when he came to see you that night. Again, sat in that corner like a ghost whose only purpose was to haunt your bedroom specifically.
“Do they?”
“Yes,” You made yourself comfortable, leaning against the headboard like you had the habit of doing. “Do you pay them to sing your praises?”
He chuckled. “Is it that hard to believe that I’m not some sort of monster?”
You sighed. “If not then why can’t I see you?”
“Not yet.” He said.
“Why?”
“Because I said so.” He replied, and by the sounds of it, he stood up. Surely ready to leave. “Now, is there anything you need?”
You tried to see if you could tell where he was standing but the room was too dark. However, it seemed like, judging by the sound of footsteps, that he’d gotten closer to the end of your bed. “There’s nothing to do around the house. The ladies take care of everything. I appreciate the library, but…”
He was quiet, like he was thinking. Then said, “I’ll see to it.”
“I’m assuming you won’t let me go back to work in my family’s companies.” You could tell he wouldn’t.
“No,” He said, as expected. “You’re my wife now. I’m well equipped to provide for you and see to your needs for the rest of our lives. But if you have any hobbies, please, indulge away.”
Something about his calm tone made you confess your little secret, “I like to paint. I’ve always wanted to be an artist.”
You didn’t know why you were telling him all this. Perhaps the dark helped you open up better. Maybe the fact that you didn’t know him made it easier to talk. Like how people tend to prefer texting over calls. Him being so invisible made it so much more effortless.
You continued, “I always wonder what it must be like to have an exhibition of my works.” You chuckled. “I know it sounds vain but… I’ve always wanted to let my mind and soul leak all over canvases, and share it with the world. I think it’s such a brave thing when people do that.”
He was quiet for a few seconds, then spoke in that teasing tone, “Painting, huh?”
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t get to make fun of me, ghost.”
He chuckled. “Get some sleep, wife.”
And then he left.
—
The following morning, you woke up to two surprises.
The first one was waiting for you at the breakfast table. You noticed the box on the floor immediately. It was partially opened, and had a note stuck to it.
The note read: ‘Since there’s nothing to do around the house…’ written in a messy handwriting. Surely Bucky’s.
You opened the box and in there, on a folded blanket, was a sleeping, fluffy little puppy. A black lab it seemed. With a pink collar around her neck. You gasped as you gently picked it up and couldn’t resist bringing it up to your face. Puppies always smelt so good.
The little one yawned and let out some cute noises as you held her up to look at her properly. By now the two ladies whom you saw frequently around the house walked up to you and one of them said, “He left something else for you.”
You followed the ladies, new puppy in hand, and they led you to what seemed like a newly built studio. It was in an area of the mansion where you didn’t go very often. And as you walked in, you gasped in surprise for the second time that morning.
It was located on the ground floor. A bright and spacious space. The beige walls felt like a giant blank canvas in itself. The large Georgian windows allowed the perfect amount of light in. And everything in the room was neatly organised. Art supplies, paints, canvases, palettes, easels.
Oh, it was perfect.
The ladies left you to explore on your own, saying something about bringing you breakfast in here. But you were distracted by the bright yellow sticky note on one of the easels. You walked up to it and it read: ‘For your mind and soul to leak all over. Paint me something. I’ll consider it a wedding gift.’
You couldn’t help the smile on your face as you read and re-read the note left by your mysterious husband. You whispered to your sleeping puppy, “Maybe our ghost isn’t so bad, huh?”
-
Hours went by.
The ladies brought you and the puppy your meals, a bed for the pup, snacks for you, all while you were busy letting your creativity flow as much as possible.
The first few canvases were horrible according to you. You hadn’t picked up a paintbrush in so long so it felt like day one all over again. But gradually, over the next few canvases, you could see what your brain was trying to create.
The blank canvas soon turned into flowy shapes. Curves, facial features, hands. Entwining bodies. Two of them. And the colour purple, lots of it. It didn’t make too much sense at first, but the more you worked on it the more you realised what you were painting.
It was your version of ‘The Abduction of Psyche’. How fitting.
By the time you were done and happy with it, your back was aching from sitting on that stool all day. It was almost time for dinner. The sun had set. The puppy was awake so you held her up to show her the canvas and asked, “You think our ghost will like it?”
She let out the tiniest, softest howl.
“Yeah, I think so too.”
You left to shower and have dinner. Then once it was time for bed you asked one of the staff members, “Does Bucky have some kind of an office?”
She replied saying yes he does, and that she could show you where it was. You grabbed the not yet dry canvas and carefully carried it all the way to where Bucky’s office was. The lady again left you all by yourself to explore.
At first you didn’t want to spend too much time in there. It was Bucky’s space after all. But then you thought, if he was comfortable walking into your bedroom at odd times during the night, why shouldn’t you check out his office?
So you did. You left the canvas where it could dry without any problem and where Bucky would see it upon entering the room. Then you began exploring. The room was not what you were expecting for someone like Bucky. You thought it would be less… old school.
He had a vintage looking typewriter on his desk for gods’ sake. Not one he used of course, but it added layers to his character you thought. Dark wooden furniture, comfortable looking chairs, more bookshelves filled with cloth-bound books. It was… cosy.
So cosy in fact that you grabbed a book and made yourself comfortable on one of the chairs. You’d read for an hour or so then head off to bed, you thought.
But soon, you drifted off to sleep. Right there. In Bucky’s office.
-
You woke up and felt something soft and fluffy moving around on your lap. You opened your eyes and quickly realised you weren’t in bed. The room was dark. With very little light coming in from the outside. There were no curtains in this room, but also it was situated in an area of the mansion where very little moonlight came in.
Before you could panic though, a voice spoke up from not too far away, “You’ve been busy today, I see.”
Ah, Bucky. And fuck. You’d fallen asleep in his office.
You refused to feel embarrassed. So you asked, “Did you like your wedding gift?”
“Yes.” He replied, and gauging by the sound you could tell he was sitting at his desk, in the darkest corner of the room. “I’ll hang it in my office.”
You smiled in the dark, feeling a little proud of yourself. “And where’s my wedding gift?”
“In your lap.”
Fair.
“What should we name her?” You asked, reaching to caress your puppy who let out an adorable grunt. “Hedone? Donnie, for short?”
He let out a chuckle. “You are really leaning into this whole Eros-Psyche thing, huh?”
You shrugged. “Well, I wouldn’t have to if you’d just show me your face. But you keep choosing not to, so deal with it.”
A pause. Then he asked, “You like your new studio?”
That made you sit up straighter. “I love it. Thank you.” Then you added, “My family always thought painting was a waste of time. They said it kept my head in the clouds too much. That it was… pointless.”
He was quick to say, “It’s not. Besides, your hobbies don’t have to make sense to anyone else but yourself. And I’ve seen the other canvases you left in the studio. They’re good.”
You turned to face the dark corner he was in. “You think?”
“Yes,” He said. “We can hold an exhibition if you want. Let me know when you’re ready.”
You let out a surprised chuckle. And when he didn’t laugh you realised he was serious. “Bucky, it's not so easy.” You explained calmly. “There’s so much work that goes into it, there needs to be some cohesion to the art pieces. There’s marketing, there’s research, there’s…” You exhaled, “There’s a lot of work to be done. Art exhibitions aren’t as easy or quick as you think it is.”
He replied, “Leave all that to me. Just let me know when you want to hold one.”
Just like that?
“I… okay.”
You felt warm in a way you’d never felt before. No one had ever taken your interests so seriously before. You’d never even been able to discuss this freely about your hobbies. And here Bucky was, ready to listen and interact with it.
You got up to leave because this was… a lot to process. “Well then. Good night, Bucky.”
A soft scoff. “Think I liked it more when you called me a ghost.”
You smiled as you approached the door, puppy in hand and amazed at how well you were able to navigate in the dark. “Night, ghost.”
He gave you a satisfied hum, then, “Good night, wife.”
—
It was bizarre to admit but you’d gotten used to those conversations in the dark with your husband. Days went by quickly given how engrossed you were with painting. Especially with the thought of a potential exhibition now in the back of your mind. Gods, that would be a dream.
And while your days consisted of painting, playing and training your puppy, exploring more and more of the grounds and your new home, making quick trips to the stores to get more supplies, catching up with your friends who were still trying to grasp the fact that you got married so quickly, getting to know the household staff and the guards better, your night consisted of waiting and fighting your sleep until Bucky came to talk to you.
It was always short conversations. Filled with easy banter and teasing tones, sarcastic comments and you asking each and every night if he was in the mood to show his face. Bucky always said no. And you always sent him off with a ‘good night, ghost’.
You had gotten used to your ghost. As had your puppy. She would bark happily each time Bucky would enter your bedroom door at night. She’d run to him for playtime and cuddles as he sat in his dark corner and spoke with you until you fell asleep.
Bucky would often leave you some kind of a note, for you to read in the morning. At the breakfast table, or in your studio. Sometimes he would leave compliments and comments on your dry canvases. Eventually, you stopped fighting the smiles which formed on your face as you read his notes.
But all of it only made you want to see him more. Not that it would change anything. Bucky had quickly become… a friend, you’d say. A confidant if you will. He had become a habit. Part of your routine.
And then one night, he didn’t come to see you.
You waited. He usually came around midnight. It was well past 2 a.m. and he never came.
At some point you went downstairs, pretending as if you just needed some water. One of the guards caught you trying to peek out into the driveway from the kitchen window.
“Boss is not home yet, ma’am.” He said.
You acted like you didn’t care. But still asked, “He does this often?”
“Sometimes.”
You nodded. You took your drink and with your puppy in your arms you walked back upstairs, passing by the many guards who were on duty inside the house at nighttime.
“It’s alright, he’s probably just busy.” You whispered to the sleeping pup as you made your way up. “Or maybe he’s hurt and tending to his wounds somewhere else.” You felt a gentle pinch in your chest at the thought of Bucky hurt and alone out there. So you forced yourself to think of something else. Something way worse. “Or maybe he’s with someone else.” You scoffed, nuzzling the soft fur of your pup, “This marriage means nothing to him anyway. But that’s alright, we don’t need him. I’ve got you. We’ve got each other. Don’t we?”
Safe to say, you went to bed slightly annoyed that night. And in denial too because you refused to admit that you missed him.
–
There was a note waiting for you in your studio the next morning.
It read: ‘No I did not spend the night with someone else. I’ll explain later. See you tonight, wife.’
Huh. Looks like the guards have really good ears.
Well, whatever. It’s not like you were impatiently waiting for night to come just so you could talk to your ghost of a husband. Right?
Except you were though. So much that you couldn’t paint a decent thing. You were easily giving up on each canvas, and leaving a trail of unfinished work the more time went on.
Eventually you sighed and left the studio. You tried reading but that wasn’t happening either. So you did the only thing you knew would take your mind off things. You asked the ladies to show you where everything was kept in the kitchen and you got to baking.
Which you did until it was time for bed. Your mood was off, and it was all because of a faceless man. And that somehow annoyed you even more.
You grabbed a plate of the mini muffins you’d made earlier and made your way upstairs. Your puppy had just gotten used to the stairs so she happily followed you everywhere you went now.
You proceeded to sit in bed, and eat your muffins angrily and forced yourself to try to sleep.
-
You woke up sometime later. And you just knew who was in the room with you.
Except he wasn’t in his usual spot.
He was standing by the windows which faced your bed this time, with his back to you. The curtains were pulled, the moonlight came and there was his dark silhouette. And… you frowned as you noticed the shiny metal arm.
“You’re home.” You said.
Bucky turned his head to the side, “I am.” He said.
You took a second or two to admire the side profile. With the moonlight shining all around his silhouette he looked like a fallen angel of sorts. “You didn’t come home last night.”
“I was out working,” He said.
“Maiming and killing?”
“You know me so well.”
“Is that a… metal arm?” You questioned.
“It is.”
“Were you hurt?”
“I was.”
You sighed again. “Is it always going to be bland answers and mystery with you?”
“Get used to it.” He said in that teasing tone.
You got out of bed as quietly as you could. “I think I liked you better without the attitude, when you sat in the corner like a ghost.” You took some steps away from the bed, approaching the giant windows. The room was rather spacious so it would take some more steps to get close to him. If you’d only–
“Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do.” He warned, but remained in the same spot.
You groaned. “Don’t you think this is getting tiring? I mean, I’m married to a man I’ve never seen before. In fact, no one has ever seen you. Why? What are you hiding?” You added, sounding defeated.
Bucky lowered his head, which only accentuated how broad his shoulders really were. He sighed. “Do you know how much trouble could’ve been avoided if only Psyche trusted Eros?”
You rolled your eyes. “I think she had her reasons. A mysterious, faceless lover who only shows up in the dark and hides in the shadows is bound to raise some doubts. Don’t you think so?”
He chuckled. You blinked and he’d turned around to face you. But despite that, you couldn’t see his face at all. Even though he was inches away.
He was quiet. Observing you with interest. The moonlight allowed him to see all of you, and he just… stared for a moment or two. A shiver ran down your back. An unfamiliar, but pleasant shiver.
Without a word said, Bucky reached out and gently touched the thin strap of your silky night dress resting on your shoulder. His metal finger gliding along your skin and making you gasp at his cold touch.
“What’s this?” He asked in his usual teasing tone. “Trying to tempt me with this excuse of a night dress, wife?”
Fuck. Had his voice dropped lower?
Fuck! He was so close to you. You didn’t even notice that your heart had begun racing. Your breaths had deepened. Shit. Why was this so hot?!
“Are you? Tempted?” You asked with a steady voice, without thinking obviously. You just needed to say something so he wouldn’t notice the way you were basically panting after him like a thirsty dog.
He chuckled. But remained quiet.
So you said, “Thought so.” You sounded smug but you were feeling the complete opposite.
Bucky scoffed in that arrogant way he often did. It was insane how easily you were able to pick up on his mannerism when you hadn’t even known him for that long. “Is that what you think? That I don’t want to sleep with you?”
Oh.
Oh this was bad. Because now your brain was making up hot, steamy scenes in your head. Scenes involving you and your faceless, mysterious husband in the dark. Entwining bodies on soft bed sheets. Fuck, you should paint that. No, what?
“Then why haven’t you?” You found yourself asking.
Okay then, bold as fuck it is. You’d gone past the point of no return now. Guess it was time for this conversation.
Bucky’s fingers remained on your shoulder, tracing the thin strap there. And you couldn’t see it, but you could hear the smirk in his voice when he asked, “You want me to?” His metal hand dropped to your waist and before you could fully process it, he pulled you closer, leaned in to whisper into your ear, “You want my hands all over you, wife?”
You could feel his slight stubble against your skin as he spoke. His lips brushing against your ear, making you gasp and tremble. Your hands found their way to his shoulders. And oh, he was pulling you even closer. Your chest pressing against his. The cool material of his suit felt amazing against your warm skin.
“Look at you,” He cooed into your ear. “Is this what you want? Hmm?” He placed both his hands on your waist, pulling you into him. His lips moved lower, brushing against your neck as he spoke. “You like how rough my hands feel?” He moved his hands up and down your sides. “Do you know how many people I’ve hurt with these hands?” He chuckled when he heard the tiniest moan leave your mouth. “You’re so soft and warm, aren’t you worried what these hands might do to you?”
He nuzzled your neck, hands roaming all over your sides and back and squeezing your butt. You became so pliant under his touch. Tilting your head back to allow him to kiss all over your neck, pressing your chest more and more against his like you couldn’t get enough. The layers of clothing, you wanted them gone.
With a shaky voice you murmured, “I can’t tell if you’re trying to scare me or turn me on.”
He laughed. And it was the best sound you’d ever heard.
“You’re sick in that pretty head, huh?” He teased. “That beautiful brain is filled with filthy, dirty, dark thoughts, isn’t it?” His metal hand reached up and carefully wrapped around your throat.
You gasped as he squeezed just a little bit. Those dirty thoughts he spoke about really started to fill your head.
“Are you just all talk or–,”
He cut you off by dragging you all the way to your bed, still holding you by the throat.
The back of your knees hit the edge of the bed and he gave you a slight push, ending with you falling onto your bed on your back. You looked up at him, hovering above you, his lower body pressing into yours.
“Do you just run that mouth?,” He asked, supporting himself with one hand while the metal one remained wrapped around your throat, his voice low and menacing but in a way that made your legs part on their own so his hips settled in between them. Your bodies fit together like the most perfect puzzle pieces. “Or do you know how to take it like a brat as well?”
You felt the need to let him know then. “I don’t know,” You said, sounding both breathless and bratty. “I’ve never had to take it.”
He paused for a moment. Then asked in subtle surprise, “What do you mean?” Even his grip around your throat loosened completely.
You squirmed in slight embarrassment but that only caused your hips to grind against his and for a moment there both of you let out a strained moan. Fuck. The tension between the two of you was almost physical now. Even in the dark, even with Bucky being nothing more than just a shadow above you.
“I, uh…” You cleared your throat, still feeling his cold fingers all over your skin, “I’ve never been with anyone before.”
He was quiet. As if thinking. You tried your hardest but you couldn’t see any of his facial features. You knew he had a slight stubble because you’d felt it earlier. But aside from that, you knew nothing. Not even his eye colour.
“You want us to stop?” He asked, shifting his body slightly as if he was ready to pull away if you asked him to.
“No,” You answered way too quickly. Then you got bold again and let your hands find their way back to his shoulders. You pulled him down, closer to you just a little and said, “This is okay.”
His fingers moved up, from your neck to your mouth. “Yeah? You want this, huh?” He mumbled, tracing your mouth with his fingers. You shivered under his touch. “You’ve been a whiny little brat lately, haven’t you, wife? Pouting and all just because I wouldn’t show myself to you.” He whispered, leaning in to just brush his lips against yours. You gasped at the sensation of his soft lips rubbing against yours. Bucky chuckled at your reaction. “Don’t think my staff doesn’t report back to me. I’ve been well aware of all the times you asked the ladies to give you details about me.”
Now that made you squirm in embarrassment. Still you said, sounding a little annoyed at being caught. “Can you blame me?”
“Can’t you just trust me?” He argued.
The danger and authority in his tone had your thighs clenching together to try and alleviate the torturous pain in between your legs. You were almost certain you had never been this turned on and annoyed at the same damn time before. You sighed in frustration. “This isn’t fair.”
“No, it isn’t,” He said, pulling away and began undressing you to your pleasant surprise. “Deal with it.”
Oh fuck.
Fuck… You had to hold back from whimpering each time his hands rubbed against your skin. He took his time in sliding the straps of your night dress down your shoulders, dragging the silky fabric down your body, leaving you more and more naked under him.
You shivered once he left your night dress bunched around your waist carelessly. It wasn’t just because of the slightly cold air. It was because even though you couldn’t see him, you could tell he was staring right at you.
You spoke in a hushed voice, not daring to speak loud in fear that it might break whatever spell you were under. “So you get to see me naked all you want, but I can’t see your face?”
He chuckled. “You want me to leave this room right now? Leave you here all wet and squirming? Or do you want me to take care of it and make you come? Huh?”
That shut you up really quickly.
“I thought so.” He sounded smug again when he said that. “I should spank you for the brat you are. But since it’s your first time… I’ll be nice.”
His hands touched you everywhere, your thighs, your stomach, your sides, your chest, your neck… everywhere. He left you gasping and trembling under him.
“Please.” You caught yourself whispering.
Bucky leaned down, his soft mouth brushing against your cheek as he said, “Please what?”
You squirmed, “Touch me, please.”
He chuckled. You felt his warm breath against your skin as he kissed his way down your naked body. “Look at you,” He murmured, lips brushing against your stomach, “You’re so eager already.”
You heard the faint chuckle which left his mouth the moment he noticed your legs spread apart for him naturally. Your face felt like it was burning but fuck, you were too turned on to even be properly embarrassed. Also, being in complete darkness helped.
Damn. You were really getting intimate with your husband whom you hadn’t even seen yet. And somehow that fact was making you want this even more.
But that mystery stopped being an issue the moment Bucky leaned in and kissed your wet folds, his tongue slowly circling around your throbbing clit and licking down, parting your wet folds with ease.
He poked at your entrance with his tongue and your body felt hotter than before. Back arching off the bed as you let out a soft moan at the foreign feeling. Fuck he felt good. You whimpered as you felt his tongue stroke your most sensitive parts. Your immediate reaction was to pull your hips back from the overwhelmingly good sensation his mouth was causing. And that made him grip your thighs tighter, keeping them pinned to the bed.
“Stop moving.” He ordered and the authority in his voice made you tremble.
You whined as you felt his strong arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you in place and close to his mouth. The metal hand on your warm skin made you shiver and tremble so much that you were thankful for the darkness.
The small amount of moonlight which came in allowed you to only see the silhouette of his broad shoulders, and his head moving slowly, sensually in between your legs. Fuck… somehow the mystery only made it hotter.
Oh you were fucked in the head for real.
And oh, Bucky was a fucking tease. Once he noticed how easily you cried out and moaned for him, he slowed down and began kissing around your clit just to purposely mess with you. He kissed your thighs, purposely avoiding touching where he knew you needed him the most. He kissed down all the way to your core, and gently bit your skin around your inner thighs.
“Bucky, please!” You cried out, hand reaching for his hair. When you managed to grab a fistful of his soft hair, you gave it a gentle tug. “Stop teasing me.”
“You don’t get to give me orders, wife.” He said, sounding all proud and mighty. “I could just walk out of here and leave you like this. Naked and squirming.”
“Please,” You begged again. You could feel your arousal trickling out of you.
A scoff. Then he leaned in again. You whined and whimpered under him, with your legs wrapped around his head. Fingers in his hair, massaging his scalp instinctively as he flicked, and sucked, and teasing your clit as much as he could.
“You’ve been a brat because you wanted your husband’s attention so badly, huh?” He taunted. “Is that what you wanted? Just my attention?” He chuckled. “You’re as calm as a happy kitten now, aren’t you?”
His stubble rubbed against your sensitive skin, and the friction burned a little but it was the kind of pain you kept wanting more of. You wanted more of him.
“Fuck, your mouth feels so good,” You murmured, throwing your head back, moaning as he kept teasing your entrance with the tip of his tongue.
“Come for me, wife.” His hands wrapped around your thighs, securing you in his grip as he pushed his face further into you, making you cry out loud.
You couldn’t even hold on for much longer, and ended up coming undone all over his tongue. Heart racing, legs trembling in his grip as you came. Your moans were soft and incessant.
Fuck… that felt amazing.
You had barely gotten your heart to stop racing, and Bucky was already standing up and in the dark you couldn’t see very well but it did look like he was moving away from the bed.
“You’re leaving?” You asked, unable to stop yourself from sounding a little upset at his departure.
All he said was, “Good night, wife. See you tomorrow.”
You scoffed after he shut the door behind him, leaving you in darkness yet again. “Ghost.”
—
That night ended up being the first of many.
Your days consisted of painting, and finally finding a flow in most of your pieces. Perhaps if you’re able to make a decent collection, you could start thinking about the exhibition seriously, you thought. When you weren’t painting you were either training your rapidly growing puppy, or baking. You’d begun taking your puppy out for walks around the mansion, consequently doing some more exploring of the grounds.
After all that, each night you’d get in bed and wait for Bucky. It became part of your routine. And each night with him was different. He’d spend his time touching you slowly until you were purring for him like a kitten. Kissing you all over your body in the dark. Making you come all over his tongue and fingers. Kissing you until you moaned and pulled him closer just to feel his weight pressing down on you.
But he would always leave after making you come. And you two never actually fucked. Neither would he let you make him come.
On nights when he wouldn’t make it home, you’d worry yourself to sleep. But then each morning you’d find a note from him either in your studio or the breakfast table. He would always say some cheesy shit. And he would always promise to come see you later that night.
On nights when you two didn’t engage in anything sexual, it was still just as fulfilling. Bucky would tell you things about his work, his past, his family. You learnt that he was over a decade older than you, and teased him about being an old man until he pinned you to the bed and tickled you until you couldn’t breathe.
You learnt that he liked to keep to himself and stay as far away from his family as possible. He liked peace and quiet, which would explain his lovely home being here away from most people.
The more you learned about him, the easier it was to grow fond of him. But the more you grew fond of him, the greedier you got. You wanted more. More of his time, his touch, his attention, and most of all, you wanted to see him.
The mystery, while hot as fuck, was killing you.
—
One night, things changed.
Bucky came into your room as usual. He’d gotten bolder lately, he wouldn’t sit in the corner like a ghost anymore, instead he would find his way to your bed and only leave that bed after making you come hard.
Tonight started out the same way.
You felt his hands all over you as he pulled you closer to him under the covers. You giggled as he bit and licked that one sensitive spot on your neck. Your fingers had a habit of finding themselves in his hair. It was insane how easily you’d gotten used to being with him in the dark. How easily you could find his mouth with your own. How easily you’d find your way into his arms.
It was weirdly comforting. His warmth, his voice, his touch.
“Tell me about your day,” He murmured, kissing your neck while his hands grabbed you and caressed you wherever he could reach.
You squealed when you felt his metal fingers wandering dangerously close to your clit. Then said, “It went pretty well. I went out to buy some supplies, made a new friend at the store, I went to see my father but he wasn’t home. I took our dog for a walk, I painted…,” You gasped when his mouth trailed down till he took a nipple into his warm mouth, while he slid two fingers inside you gently. “Oh fuck…” You whined.
He kissed his way up to your mouth again and said, “You sound so good when you moan for me, wife.” His lips brushed against yours.
He was so close. And it was dark. And you wanted so desperately to see him.
He moved his fingers expertly in and out of you. Making sure to brush against your most sensitive spots each time, turning you into a whimpering mess under him. He gave you a gentle kiss, swallowing your moans as he brought you closer to the edge.
You whimpered and whined, then in the moment you just blurted out, “Can I please see you now?”
Bucky stopped. He pulled away from you, making you whimper again as he got up and got out of your bed.
In the dark it took a while for you to figure out where he was, whether he was still nearby or already making his way out the door. But he was here, standing near the bed.
“We talked about this.” He said, sounding grave and disappointed.
“But it’s been so long.” You argued. “I trust you.”
He let out a loud exhale and said, “Then trust me when I say, it’s better this way.”
You let out a sigh. “You can’t keep me in the dark forever, Bucky. Literally!”
“Yes I can. I will.” He said arrogantly. That tone of his bothered you. “It’s better this way.” He repeated, but it sounded a lot like he was trying to convince himself instead of you.
“Oh screw you!” You said with enough bitterness to make a grown man flinch. “If you won’t let me see you then stop coming into my bedroom. I don’t want to see you unless you agree to let go of this weird persona.”
“Fine.”
—
That night was the last time you heard from Bucky.
He didn’t come home the following day. Nor the one after that.
And no one knew where he went.
You could tell something was wrong when you began noticing that the guards were talking in hushed voices whenever you were around. You noticed that the amount of security around the house doubled. That’s when you began to worry.
By the third night, the entire house was filled with this almost tangible tension, worry, and fear. The house staff wouldn’t talk to you as much. The guards were always in and out of the house. The head of security advised you to not wander too far away from the house while you roam the grounds.
You noticed the guards would follow you whenever you left the property. Be it when you left to visit your father at your old house or when you went out to buy supplies.
Then you worried some more. But no one had answers to your questions. Nobody knew where he went. Whether he’s away for an assignment or if he’s simply choosing to be away from home.
You tried your hardest to pretend that you didn’t care. You were still a little angry. After all, why couldn’t you see what he looked like? You’d spend so much time with him in the dark, running your hands all over him, tracing the outline of his facial features, he never had an issue with that. But why couldn’t you see him?
You were angry, but also very much worried by the fourth day. You missed him, you realised. He had become such a habit, such a constant in your days. His sarcastic humour, his gentle hands, his comforting embrace, the way he left you notes in the morning, the way he took your art seriously.
Fuck. You sat up in bed one night, patting ‘his’ side of the bed softly. You missed him. Badly. You felt a pinch inside your chest which you had never felt before. It hurt. You wanted him home. You admitted to yourself with a painful sigh.
“Where are you?” You whispered, looking at the dark corner of your bedroom where he used to sit in silence like a ghost. “It’s okay if you want to stay in the dark forever.” You looked around the dark room which now without him seemed so much bigger and empty, “Just come home.”
—
The next morning, as you half-heartedly approached the kitchen, you overheard something. And quickly realised you shouldn’t have heard it. It was the two ladies talking in hushed tones, the ones who usually served you your meals and often kept you company while you baked.
“...cannot tell her, she’ll be heartbroken.” One of them said gravely.
Sudden panic made your body freeze. You pressed your back against the nearest wall to keep yourself hidden while you processed those cryptic words. No, no, no. Is he hurt? Do they know something you don’t?
The other replied, “But she deserves to know. Even if it’s not confirmed yet. I mean, do you see how she smiles when she reads his notes? Clearly she had grown to care for him. She needs to know.”
The other argued, “I know, but I cannot imagine how hurt she will be when she hears about the rumours that her own father kidnapped her husband due to some past rivalry which was supposedly laid to rest after their wedding.”
“They’ve been looking for him for days now. It’s been too long, he should’ve been found by now.”
Fuck. Fuck. FUCK!
No. This cannot be happening.
You carefully walked away from the kitchen. Thinking, processing, analysing.
If your father did it, it must’ve been for some shitty, arrogant reason. He probably just wanted to rub it in Bucky’s family’s face that he could still eliminate his biggest threat if he wanted to. To show that he could still get rid of them by holding their most precious weapon hostage. To toy with them by making them wait in anticipation. Your father had done it before. Not with Bucky, but other people. He usually never asked for ransom but he liked having his rivals beg him for mercy.
Shit. He’s had Bucky for days now.
You moved without thinking twice about it. For some reason, your brain knew exactly what to do even though your heart was still bothered by a multitude of emotions. It felt like you were on autopilot.
You rushed into Bucky’s office and grabbed a handgun from his desk drawer, checked if it was loaded. It was. You knew Bucky kept it there for safety, he had told you that one time when you two were in bed together.
You let out a frustrated sigh, then felt movement around your ankles. You looked down at your puppy and gave her a sad smile as you bent down to pet her. “I’m gonna go find daddy, okay? I’ll be home soon.” You left her with a kiss.
You rushed back downstairs and found a group of armed guards in the foyer near the front door. You didn’t have the time to explain it all to them, especially since you were driven by a gut feeling. Instead you asked, “Do you guys have a way of tracking my phone, or my car?”
One of them nodded. The rest frowned in confusion.
You tried to keep your calm as much as you could even though your heart was racing. “Okay, I’m gonna go to my father’s house. Don’t follow me yet, but I need some of you to come find me as soon as I begin driving away from there.”
Surprisingly, they just nodded and let you go.
The whole time you drove to your father’s house, it felt you were constantly having to force yourself to keep calm. After four days of having no idea where he was, and now as all the puzzle pieces fit together, it was hard to remain calm. You just wanted to get to him.
And while you drove, unanswered questions tormented you.
Was he hurt? Where was he being kept? Was he beaten up? Was he even conscious? Would this end badly? How far would your father take this? Would he hurt him?
Before you knew it, you were entering your father’s property. The guards let you in like they always did. You had to take a minute to breathe in your car before stepping out and going inside your old home.
Luckily your father was home.
You walked in and stopped in the middle of the foyer as you saw him making his way down the stairs. He slowed down when he noticed the glare you sent his way. And when he stopped in the middle of the grand staircase, with you still glaring at him, the guards who were scattered around the entrance noticed. You caught the way they silently got closer and closer, slowly reaching for their guns.
Good thing you’d brought your own.
The guards, as well as your father, froze in place the moment you pulled out Bucky’s gun and pointed it at the man responsible for all of this shit. No one made a single sound. No guard moved to even try to disarm you.
You looked at your hand, which was surprisingly steady as it held the gun. And there, on the side of the shiny metal, you spotted Bucky’s initials. Your heart throbbed in a painful way, but you refused to be emotional right now, even though you needed a good cry after having bottled up your feelings for the last few days.
You glared at your father, who was still shocked, and asked in a cold tone you’d never used before, “Where’s my husband?”
Your father frowned. “What do you think you’re doing?”
You repeated, “Where is he?”
Your father scoffed, “You’ll shoot your own father? Is this how I raised you?”
“And you’ll kidnap your own son-in-law? For what? To show that you’re still the shit?” You questioned in a slightly raised voice.
He sighed like he was disappointed, “You don’t know what–,”
You cut him off. “We had a deal, right? That these petty attacks would stop after the wedding? That’s why I got married, isn’t it? Because we’re supposed to keep family safe?”
He was quiet for a moment. Then began talking again, “If I could just get them to–,”
“Enough!” You sounded just as tired of his bullshit as you were. “Whatever plan you have, just stop!” Then it came spilling out of your mouth, “You were supposed to protect me. All of us,” You said, referring to your older siblings, “Instead you married each of us off in exchange for whatever or whoever was going to benefit you more.”
He argued, “If this works, you can come back home. Don’t you want that?”
“No,” You said, and realised you meant it. “This was never home.” You admitted. “He treats me better than my own family ever did. He doesn’t tell me that my art is a waste of time. He doesn’t keep me imprisoned inside his home. He doesn’t choose who I should mingle with and who I shouldn’t. He doesn’t force me to join family businesses because it’ll be good for his image.” You taunted your father. “And he’ll never sell me to the highest bidder.”
Your father made a sound like he was disgusted. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen in love with him?”
You remained quiet. I care for him, you wanted to say, deeply. But that would be lying, wouldn’t it? Truth was… you did fall for him. His calm voice. His gentle but playful demeanour. His dark humour. His brilliant mind and sharp tongue, always ready to argue and debate. His gentle touch… you loved him.
“What I do and who I care for is none of your concern anymore.” You concluded, stepping forward and keeping the gun aimed at his face. “Now, where is my husband?”
The smirk on your father’s face was maddening. “You’ll never find him,” He said. “I’ve hidden him well.” He added.
You gave him a smirk as well. One which mirrored his.
“Oh don’t make me do this.” You cooed. “Did you forget all those times you got drunk and confessed all the bad things you did?” You began listing, “All those times you spilled all your little secrets. About our family businesses, about your allies, the lies and betrayal. The bodies that are buried on this very property. The skeletons in your closet.” You gave him a sick, sweet smile. “Imagine if all that information just magically ends up in the ears of your rivals, dad. Imagine the carnage.”
His smirk disappeared. “You would betray me by siding with them?” He asked in disbelief.
You were getting tired of this. So you lowered your gun and said, “I am one of them.”
You walked out without a single glance back at your father, but you could tell he had his jaws clenched in anger. He hated being outsmarted. But his mistake was underestimating you.
And as for Bucky’s location, well your father gave it away when he said ‘I’ve hidden him well.’
There was only one place he believed you knew nothing about since at the time that he told you about it, he was drunk out of his mind as he confessed more of his crimes: the rundown warehouse which he used as a hideout/storage for weapons and arms.
Your father had always referred to Bucky being a ‘weapon’ so it was only fitting that he would think to hide him there. Thinking no one would find him.
But you would.
As you drove to the warehouse, you hoped that the guards were tracking you as you had instructed them to. Because if Bucky was truly there, there was a high chance that there would be some guards, and that Bucky must be injured. And you’d need help getting him out of there.
Driving to the warehouse, you had silent tears streaming down your face. Not just out of sadness, but also frustration. Fuck, what had your life become?
The warehouse was a disaster, you realised as you approached it. Large, crumbling, windows boarded up with rotting wood, broken machinery scattered around the outside. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades. And it was exactly the type of structure no one would bother to look twice at. The perfect place to hide illegal things, and son-in-laws you hate.
There weren’t as many guards as you expected. Which would mean that Bucky was either chained and locked up like an animal, or that he was injured to the point where he was too weak to fight his way out of here.
Or both.
You shivered as you got out of your car. The few guards who were around noticed you and one of them began walking faster towards you the more you got closer to the entrance.
“Miss, you can’t be here. Your father explicitly said no one is allowed–,”
You scoffed and said, “Oh, I know what he said.” You kept walking. “What will you do? Shoot me?”
“Miss,” He tried again, “I can’t let you–,”
You turned towards him and placed the barrel of Bucky’s gun right under the guard’s chin. “You were saying?”
Then you heard it. A fleet of cars approaching. The guards heard it too. You heard them yelling at one another while the one in front of you remained frozen in place. You smirked at him and said, “Now go play with them.”
You had just enough time to duck and run inside before the gunshots began. You didn’t stop. The interior of the warehouse was just as dilapidated as the outside, and by the sound of it, there were quite some guards on the roof. Their heavy footsteps as they ran to duck and try to escape the bullets raining down on them echoed inside the empty warehouse.
It was fairly easy to spot Bucky. But fuck was it painful to see him that way.
He was chained to the wall, shackles around his wrists and ankles. His body slumped on the ground, his breaths ragged. You could tell he was tired. Perhaps tired of fighting against the chains. You couldn’t hold back your soft sob as you ran to him.
They had left his muzzle-like mask on him, covering the lower half of his face. The leather jacket and gloves he wore were covered in blood and dirt. A lot of blood. You knelt down in front of him and that’s when you noticed the bullet wound on his thigh. It looked fresh.
“Bucky?” You called, reaching a hand to touch his face. He was cold to the touch, but stirred at the sound of your voice. “Bucky, come on. Wake up. Please.” You sniffled and inched closer to him, “I’m here, I’m gonna get us out of here, okay?”
He let out a weak cough. You could barely hear it over the sound of the gunshots outside.
“Bucky,” You tried to get the chains and shackles off of him, “Come on, wake up. We need to go home.” Your own voice cracked as you felt the silent tears streaming down your face as you were unable to get the shackles off. “Please,” You begged.
Then as the gunshots outside faded away, you heard Bucky’s faint voice saying, “Use the gun.”
You turned to face him. “What?”
He spoke again, his voice raspier than usual and sounding muffled due to the mask. “Shoot at the chains.”
Your hands trembled just a little as you reached for the gun you had brought. His gun. And you said, “Okay, don’t move.”
You did. And only missed twice.
Breaking the chains left the shackles still around his wrists and ankles but that could be dealt with later. You were panicking, wondering how you’d get him out of here but the guards barged in just in time. And you let out a sigh of relief when they ran straight to Bucky and carefully picked him up.
As a couple of them managed to get Bucky in the backseat of your car, one of them let you know that there was a doctor and his assistants already waiting at home to tend to Bucky. Another one asked you what to do regarding the warehouse.
“Burn it.” You told him. “I’ll deal with my father later, right now we need to get Bucky home.”
On the drive home, Bucky kept trying to talk. But he was so weak he could barely get full sentences out.
“Weren’t you mad at me?” He asked.
You sniffled and said refused to answer that. Instead you said, “Try not to talk. You’ve been shot, we don’t know how much blood you’ve lost,” You rambled. “Let’s get you to the doctor, okay?”
“S’okay,” He mumbled, “It went through.”
That only hurt more. “Bucky please, you need to save energy, okay? We’re almost home.”
“They… shot me with my own gun.” He refused to keep quiet.
At first you thought his brain was being delirious and making him ramble. Because of the pain, exhaustion, thirst, hunger. But then a weak sound left his mouth. Still muffled by the mask because no one removed it, and it sounded a lot like a very weak, faint laugh.
“Eros got pierced by his own arrow after all.” He mumbled.
You held back a sob. Then muttered, “I hate you so much, Bucky Barnes.”
Another weak laugh. “No, you don’t, wife.”
Then he passed out cold.
—
The next few days which followed Bucky’s rescue went by so fast and so painfully. The medical team kept close watch on him for days. Bucky was in and out of consciousness a lot. All the meds and the exhaustion kept him constantly out cold.
The nurses and the house staff were constantly around him. But for some reason, you couldn’t bring yourself to go into his room. Not yet. You’d linger near the door and the doctors and the staff would constantly update you about his condition, but you never went in.
Mainly it was because of shame. At what your father had done to him. But also you were still making peace with and processing your own emotions and you couldn’t face him until you were fully ready. What was important was that he was rescued and safe in his home.
About a week later, the medical team finally left. And promised they would do frequent check ups and told you that Bucky needed a lot of rest.
And that night, you managed to find the courage to finally step inside Bucky’s bedroom. It was a lot like yours, just larger. The room was dark when you walked in. But the open curtains allowed some light in from the outside.
Okay. You spoke to yourself as you approached Bucky’s bed. It’s high time you find out who you married.
Your hands shook a little as you reached for the dim lamp on his bedside table. But you turned it on quickly before you could talk yourself out of it.
The golden light illuminated the room partly, and there he was. A little bruised, with a cut on his lip. His handsome face made you smile and tear up at the same time. You couldn’t hold back from reaching to touch his face softly, carefully. You ran your knuckles along his cheek and whispered, “There you are, ghost.”
He stirred. And soon, a pair of sparkling blue eyes look up at you. For a moment you panicked, wondering if he would be upset. But instead he said, “This is cheating.”
You let out a soft laugh and asked, “How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for days.”
“I feel like beating your father up.” He mumbled.
“Oh, same.” You agreed. Then added, “I’m so sorry for what he did to you.”
Over the past few days, the guards had gathered what had truly happened the day Bucky went missing. Turns out, he did leave for an assignment but your father and his men had been keeping a close eye on him for days, and since the wedding was supposed to have ended all rivalry, Bucky had his guard down as he entered your father’s territory. And your father had the upper hand for once and took advantage of it. Bucky was cornered, outnumbered and taken. He was kept in that warehouse up until you found him.
“Don’t be,” Bucky whispered, reaching for your hand on your lap. He gave your hand a soft squeeze and said, “You saved me.”
You couldn’t look away from Bucky. It felt so intimate to finally be able to see his face. Then rather sheepishly, you asked, “Can I sleep here? I’ll be careful.” He was still injured and in pain, but you just wanted to be close to him. You needed to.
He smirked, “Come on.” You walked to the other side of the bed and slid under the covers, keeping some distance between you and him. He turned to look at you and said, “Want me to leave the light on?”
You nodded. And he did.
—
A lot changed after that.
Bucky was healing from his injury and was starting to walk again. Which meant that he was home a lot. He did ‘work’ but it mainly consisted of him ordering people around on the phone.
Him being at home meant that he followed you around as much as he physically could. He would spend time in your studio, sometimes he’d stay for hours and watch you finish your pieces. He also spent a lot more time with your dog, taking her on short walks and teaching her new tricks.
He’d stay with you in the kitchen while you baked. He’d go with you whenever you went shopping for supplies. Bucky became your shadow. And consequently, spending this much together made you feel closer than ever to him.
He became your best friend.
He also became a lot more… bold.
—
One night Bucky found you in his bathroom. After that night when you first slept in his bed, you hadn’t gone back to your bedroom. So now, most of your things slowly found their way into his space. Like your night time skin care products.
Bucky crept up behind you and wrapped his arms around you.
You met his eyes through the mirror and gave him a smile. “Your limp is nearly gone.” You announced, noticing the way he walked was so much better now.
He gave you a look which meant nothing but mischief, “And you know what that means?”
You could already tell where this was going. You immediately turned him down. “Bucky, we cannot. You’re still injured.”
“But it’s been weeks.” He said it like it was the ultimate torture. “Don’t you miss those nights we spent together? Hmm?” He whispered, leaning in to kiss your neck. He knew it was one of your weaknesses. “Remember how good it feels when I make you come?”
You sighed, letting him kiss you and hold you for a moment. “Buck… you’re still healing.”
“Come on, baby,” He cooed, nuzzling your neck, “I’ll make it so good. I promise I’ll tell you if it hurts.”
You almost gave in the moment he playfully bit your neck, his hands finding the belt of your robe and shamelessly undoing it before sliding in to touch your warm skin. “But,” You tried to find something even though all you wanted was to drag him to bed, “Your stitches…” Your words ended in a soft moan as his metal fingers found their way in between your legs, circling around your clit.
Bucky growled. Growled. Then said, “Fine, you get to be on top then.”
You froze, and let out a nervous chuckle. “But I…,” You opened your eyes and met his through the mirror. “I–,”
“Shh, it’s okay.” He reassured you, remembering the time you told him you’d never done anything with anyone before. “I know.” He gave you a sweet kiss on the cheek. “I’ll teach you.”
And he did. Patiently.
He took his time in undressing both of you and held your hand in his as he laid down and pulled you on top of him.
“I’m scared I’ll hurt you.” You murmured.
He gave you a reassuring smile. “You won’t, baby. Now come on.”
He watched as you carefully straddled him, settling comfortably around his waist. One hand holding his metal one tightly while the other remained splayed over his chest.
Bucky looked up at you with nothing but adoration and lust as he tugged on your hand, pulling you in for a kiss. You leaned down gently and pressed your mouth to his. His warm hand immediately rubbed up and down your side lovingly. He pulled away just a little and whispered against your mouth, “We’ll do whatever you’re comfortable with, okay?”
You nodded, already breathless.
“Tell me, baby. What do you want?”
You told him the one thing you desperately wanted. “I want to touch you.”
Bucky smirked and supported his upper body up on his elbows, with you still straddling his waist, your core pressing down on his crotch. “Go on then, touch me.” He murmured.
He watched you intently as you reached out and touched his face first. Bucky’s heart was racing, you could tell by the way he breathed, as your finger slowly trailed down his face, along his neck and down till his abs, so slowly that you could feel his muscles tensing underneath your touch.
You gave him a teasing smile when you noticed the effect you have on him, and how he couldn’t help but stare at your naked body.
“Don’t tease me,” He mumbled.
You chuckled and leaned in to give him a brief kiss before hesitantly wrapping your hand around his cock. Part of the reason why you kissed him while doing it was because you were worried about your lack of experience, so you did it to distract him.
But he caught it. And wrapped his own hand around yours, making you grip him tighter. You pulled away from the kiss and looked into his pretty eyes. Bucky was breathing heavily. You let his hand guide you as you gave him an experimental stroke, a gentle up and down movement.
He felt thick and hard, and big. You looked down for a quick minute as you let him continue guiding your hand, lazily stroking his cock, up and down. Your thumb rubbed his tip slowly, making him groan as you looked back up at him and kissed your way down his neck, around the base of his throat, making him gasp in pleasure.
“See?” He whispered, “You’re learning already.” He said as he slowly let go of your hand and let you touch him on your own.
You continued exploring this new feeling. He was completely fine with just being there and letting you take your time. And you did take your time, touching him everywhere you could, stroking him as slowly or as quickly as you wanted to. Until he was so close to the edge, eyes rolled to the back of his head, lips parted and occasional moans escaping his open mouth as pre cum started dripping down his cock.
Oh he was a sight to behold. But you were getting impatient, and you wanted him in you as soon as possible. So you stopped, earning a groan from him.
“I want you,” You said.
Bucky looked like he was barely able to hold back either. “Come on,” He held your hand again, pulled you in for a quick kiss as you straddled him properly. His hand reached down and aligned the tip of his cock to your hole, teasing you with it by sliding it up and down your slit a few times until you were whimpering. “Now sit on it baby come on,” He encouraged you as you began sinking down on him, gasping as his cock stretched you out. “You can do it.” He murmured, breathless as he watched his cock disappear inside you more and more. “That's it. All the way down, come on baby.”
You were a moaning mess by the time you sunk all the way down, impaling yourself down on his cock. Fuck. You had never felt so full before. So fucking full.
“You okay, baby?” He asked, holding you by your hips, moving you back and forth just a little bit to create some friction.
You nodded, moaning at the slight movement.
“Want me to help you move?” He asked, lips parted and he had that wild look in his eyes.
Fuck, he was beautiful.
“Yes, please,” You whined, placing your hands on his chest to brace yourself for what was coming.
He wasted no time. Bucky grabbed you by the hips and helped you move up and down his cock. Your wet warmth wrapped all around him, making him swear under his breath and groan at how good you felt.
You couldn’t look away from his ocean blue eyes while you rocked your hips against his. You moved against him perfectly, your walls gripping him tightly and feeling him twitch inside you.
“Look at you.” He cooed. “Look how well you're taking it.”
You couldn’t help but lean in to kiss his open mouth. He was so perfect. He was everything you had ever dreamt of, you realised.
His metal fingers moved to touch your clit while you rode his cock, teasing you and bringing you closer to that edge. It wouldn’t take much. You were so overwhelmed already.
“Bucky…” You whined, dragging your hands down and pressing both your palms against his toned abdomen, carefully avoiding touching him around his thigh area, where he was shot.
Bucky watched you, your breasts bouncing gently, lips parted, softly gasping as you got so, so close to the edge.
And he knew. So he quickened his pace, still moving you up and down his cock while he rubbed your throbbing clit.
“Baby, I’m gonna need you to come for me, okay?” His voice was low, barely even a whisper. His desperation was quite clear. He began to thrust his hips up even harder, matching your movements.
The air around you got hotter, and that look in his eyes made you want to live in this moment forever. Bucky was the most beautiful mess you’d ever seen. A sweaty, moaning mess under you, messy hair, swollen lips, and a throbbing cock.
You were sure you looked like a mess too as you felt your walls clench around him, gripping him and milking him perfectly.
“Come for me,” He whispered, “Come on, baby.”
You came without a warning, crying out loud and impaling yourself down on him one last time as you did. Bucky thrust up into you one last time and came undone as well, both of you breathing hard and fast.
You carefully got up from his lap and laid down beside him, body limp and slightly sore in between your legs.
You were still catching your breath as you asked, “Did I hurt you?” You sounded just as worried as you were.
Bucky chuckled. “I should be the one asking you that.”
You smiled and snuggled into his side, he wrapped an arm around you and pulled you closer.
“I’m fine, baby.” He said and kissed your forehead.
You both laid there in silence for a while.
Cuddling and relishing each other’s warmth, caressing each other’s skin.
You felt his fingers drawing random shapes on your back as you laid your head on his chest, feeling his steady heartbeats against your cheek. You felt the need to ask him, “Why were you so against showing yourself to me?”
He gave you a soft chuckle. “You just can’t let that go, huh?”
“Nope.”
He sighed, pulling you closer. “I was… afraid.”
You frowned. “Afraid of what?” You pulled away and looked up at him. “Why did you hide this pretty face from me?” You gave him a quick kiss on his chest as you waited for his answer.
He sighed again. “Everywhere I go, I… whenever people see me up close, it’s already too late. They don’t see a human anymore, they see death staring back at them.” He paused. You remained quiet. He continued. “I see it, you know? In their eyes. When they look at me and plead, or beg, or curse me.” A humourless laugh, then, “After some years of that, I began seeing it in the mirror as well. I saw the same thing they see. After years of brutality, and killing, and spilling blood,” A soft chuckle, “Years of being an evil Eros as you call it, I grew to hate my face.”
You felt tears forming at your waterline but you couldn’t look away from him. Not when he was being so brave and vulnerable.
He continued. “And then before our wedding, I looked you up.” He confessed, a little embarrassed. “And you were so beautiful.” He looked you right in the eyes and repeated, “You are so beautiful. I guess, I didn’t want you to look at me and see death, and ugly and all the other dark stuff. I didn’t want to see that look in your eyes, the same one I see in everyone. That look of fear and disgust.” He finally admitted, “So I thought, I’d just hide and be a ghost.”
“My ghost.” You corrected him, reaching out to cup his chin in your palm. “And I’m gonna need you to never stop haunting me.” You said, leaning in to leave a soft kiss on his lips. “I want you to always be in the shadows. Be with me, even in the dark.” You gave him a smile. “I look at you now and you know what I see? I see a man who treated me with respect. A man who wouldn’t touch me unless I asked for it. A man who gave me so much space for my creativity.” A faint smile, then you added, “You made me fall in love with art all over again, and now everything I paint, I paint with you in my mind.”
He gave you a smile which both broke and mended your heart.
“Oh Buck,” You cupped his gorgeous face with both hands and said, “You’re not death, or scary, or any other dark shit. You’re mine, and I love you.”
He pulled you in for a kiss so quickly you barely processed it. “And I love you.”
You giggled into the kiss and only pulled away when you were breathless. You kissed your way down his chin and nuzzled his neck, sighing in delight.
Bucky said, “I think I should retire.”
“Hmm,” You asked, “And what would you do in retirement?”
“Watch you paint, raise our dog, adopt some more animals, attend your art exhibitions, and eventually make some babies with you.” He listed it all so easily.
“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed.
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simon riley knew the years were catching up to him. he could feel the dull throb in his knee. his back started to hurt when he sat in the wrong position for too long. he even would a grey hair the other day. he honestly wondered if his boys were still working, or were the years of drinking, smoking and combat the thing that killed them all. he wanted to put that to the test. and you were his little test subject. it was hard for you to deny your commander, especially when he shoved you into the cramped areas that only became more cramped with his large body in them, and his cock drilled into your poor achy cunt. he'd often comment about how your sweet cunt drooled for him, coated his cock in slickness and practically begged to be filled, to be bred.
he'd often shove his fingers into your mouth as he fucked you from behind. his gruff voice in your ears, telling you to shut up mixed with promises of a stuffed cunt. up against shelves, over desks, in the back of military vehicles. on your knees, on your back. anyway he could have you, he was going to take the chance. if you have one more period, he's going to tie you down the bed and use you until that poor pussy of yours is drowned in his cum. you don't get it, you're too young and stupid to be worried about your biological clock. you think your breeding days are forever, but simon's wants to make sure every second counts as he has you bent in half with a milky ring around the base of his cock.
that soft little stomach of yours is gonna get nice and filled with his brats. little rileys running around, their grabby hands all over mama. you'd be off base and some place where the little ones can run around. and while they're down for their nap, simon's gonna make sure his woman gets some loving. as he spit in your mouth before he bruised your hips as he had you shoved over the edge of his bed. his hand in your hair as he made you whimper. maybe he was a sick man, but he had to make sure you got pregnant before he threw out his hip or knee. he could twist you into positions that allowed him to be more comfortable, you were young and flexible. you could handle being almost upside down while simon lapped at your cum soaked pussy, pulling a fifth orgasm out of you that night alone. his cum thoroughly stained your bed sheets and the lips of your pussy. your hole tender and coated in the creamy film of simon's cum. a promise of things to come.
it only took less than a year before you were feeling the aches of pregnancy replace the aches of sex. now he kept a broad hand over your swollen middle. you were gonna be a mama soon. and simon had the privilege of being the father. even with you on your back and your ankles over his shoulders, his cock drilling into you, you looked more beautiful than ever. a good woman always looked better on her back.
a/n: "what's a bunny's favourite music genre? hip-hop!"
#bunny writes#simon ghost riley fanfiction#simon ghost#simon#simon riley#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley x you#simon ghost x reader#ghost call of duty#ghost smut#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost riley smut#i'm sorry women#call of duty#call of duty modern warfare#call of duty smut#reader insert#call of duty x reader#call of duty drabble#simon ghost riley drabble#pregnant!reader#pregnancy
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⭑ Our sweet sister ⭑
Masterlist
Pairing: Aegon II Targaryen x Sister!reader x Aemond Targaryen
Summary: Aemond has been waiting for years to marry his favourite sister, Aegon agreed it was the only way of keeping her close of making sure she only belonged to them. But her being given away to a dornish prince changes everything.
Warnings: NSFW, +18 mdni, targcest, murder, threesome (my first), making out, mastrubation, grinding, fingering, oral (both m and f receiving), vaginal sex, breeding kink, mommy kink, titty sucking, creampie, switch Aegon, dom Aemond and Aegon being drunk as always.
Word count: 3.3k
The early morning rays shone through your window in the Red Keep as your handmaiden finished up with your hair. She always had a need to have your hair perfect, not one strand out of place. With some pins she adjusted the headpiece with the sheer black fabric and green and gold details. Your mother, Queen Alicent, could arrive any moment with your twin sister Heleana, to pick you up for prayer at the sept.
You absolutely despised it but you could never disobey your mother. You were her favourite daughter after all. She always tried to get close to Heleana but you knew your twin preferred to keep her distance from everyone. Even though you were twins, you didn’t really look alike. Both of you of course had the silver hair and lilac eyes of house Targaryen but your facial features were different from hers.
The door opened and your mother and sister entered your chamber. “My dear, how did you sleep?” Alicent asked as she adjusted your headpiece a bit, at which your handmaiden frowned. “Fine, shall we leave?” You stood up and Alicent stopped fussing with your hair, following you out instead. Strolling through the halls with your mother and sister in front of you, Aemond walked passed giving you a small smile. To which you mouthed a silent “Help me”, he chuckled as he gave you one last sympathetic smile over his shoulder.
You thanked the gods the morning passed swiftly, for you were already on your way back to the Red Keep. When you reached the door of your bedchamber you hurriedly went inside as your handmaiden stood at the ready for your, often daily, dragon ride with Aemond. She helped you quickly change into your dragon riding attire. You and Aemond have always been extremely close, always there for each other, both the favourite children. But ever since Aemond started to grasp for more power, he started to lose the favour of his mother, her now fully turning her attention to you.
Your eldest brother, Aegon, had never been much loved by your mother. And because of your maturity and grace, he started to cling to you instead. This was the root of your complicated but deep connection with your older brother, everytime he got scolded or drunk he would turn to you. Now this used to be in an innocent way but lately the winds started to shift, Heleana was more distant from him then ever, his mother had just been ignoring him and his father on the doorstep of death. You hadn’t seen him yet today, so you assumed he was still asleep, you would check on him later.
As for now, you would take to the skies with your other brother. You couldn’t admit it but the way people were terrified when the two of you flew together made you feel so powerful. Yes the two biggest dragons of the realm were a godly sight indeed. You claimed Vermithor, The Bronze Fury, at age ten and two. That evening at Dragon Stone with your family was an interesting one. Everyone either preparing for bed or still drinking and talking was disrupted by the notice of your absence and the terrifying screeches and roars from the Bronze Fury below. Your mother demanded you to be rescued at once, for Vermithor was known to be relentless and fierce, having not accepted a rider after the old king died. But you were much like the dragon when it came to fierceness, you weren’t afraid. And so when the guards, dragon keepers and your family arrived at the cave where the dragons resided. You stood there, in your nightgown, hand on Vermithor’s nose. After years the Bronze Fury had been claimed... by a little girl.
Aemond joined you in the training yard where your horses were waiting to take you to the outskirts of the city, for Vermithor and Vhagar were both too big for the Dragon Pit. You were both quick to mount and race through the city to get to your dragons. When you arrived, Vermithor and Vhagar were both resting next to each other, they too, formed a close bond, as they only had each other outside the dragon pit. Both of them lifted their heads and grumbled and roared at the sight of the two of you, knowing they could fly with their riders again. You both climbed on your mounts and took to the sky, frightening the shit out of towns beneath you.
It felt good to be with Aemond, natural but powerful at the same time. You knew his desperate want for the throne but that still couldn’t change how you saw him. By the time you came back the sun had begun to set and you both knew supper would be soon. So you returned with your brother to the Red Keep where two guards were waiting to take you to the dining room. As you both entered your mother wore a disapproving look on her face, she didn’t like the two of you flying for so long but when it also cut into her time with her family she really got annoyed. “You stink of dragon.” She began. “We only just got back mother, time gets away from us on dragon back.” Aemond defended. You took your seats next to each other, Aemond to your right. Aegon to your left. Heleana to his left. Her head down as she mumbled to herself. Aegon slumped in his seat as always, probably already drunk and waiting for supper to end so he could sneak out to his whores.
There was a tension in the air, your mothers and grandfather's eyes were on you. Only then did you really take in your mother, teary eyed, red cheeks, looking down. Weird. You thought, you looked at your grandfather, the hand of the king, questioningly. “You are twenty years old already,” He began, you still looked at him confused but deep down you knew where this was heading, again. “For 4 years I have been searching for a good match for you, I have tried again and again to match you with someone you could grow to like, maybe even love and yet, you refuse them.” Otto stood up from his chair, “Alas, I have had enough. Your father, sadly, cannot make these decisions anymore, so I have. Now an opportunity has arisen, one that I have been waiting for.”
“House Martell is looking for a fine lady to marry their second son, prince Robyn. I sent a letter a while ago and they have agreed to accept your hand.” Two hands slammed on the table as Aemond stood up in rage. “You will do no such thing! She is a Targaryen princess! She will not be married off to some Dorne cunt!” He yelled, you could only look down. You knew this day would come, where they would be fed up with your defiance and force you to marry. But it seemed your brother would not give up without a fight.
What you didn’t expect was for Aegon to stand up as well. “My sister is the most beautiful and fine Targaryen princess of the realm, I stand with Aemond. You will not marry her off to some plain man of house Martell.” You were taken by surprise, Aemond’s reaction was expected but you didn’t know Aegon cared so much too. Otto Hightower leaned slightly over the table. “She will marry him, he and his family should be here on the morrow. End of discussion!” He sneered. You stood up and left without a word. You went to bed that night knowing your calm, easy life in King’s Landing was alas over. Aemond however, thought otherwise.
After everyone had gone to bed he was still awake, mauling over the dinner. In a fit of rage at the memory he left his chambers and almost ran to his older brothers. He could hear the disturbance inside yet he did not care, not when his beloved sister was about to be sold off like a broodmare. He passed the guards and pushed open the door. Aegon's bedchambers were completely destroyed, cups, tapestries, pillows, blankets were everywhere, glass and wine splayed on the grounds and walls. Aegon was standing over a small table that used to hold his wine. “Brother.” Aemond urged. Aegon looked up, his eyes bloodshot and fist balled up. “There is only one way to stop this, to keep her here.” Aegon didn’t even respond, he just nodded. They were very different from each other but they both had one thing in common, they loved you.
You woke up from a restless sleep to the entire Red Keep in disarray, you could hear shouting and arguing from inside your bedchamber and just as you were about to open the door. Heleana entered your bedchamber, hands covering her ears. You knew if Heleana looked to hide with you, it was bad. “What is it? Hel, what happened? Tell me.” She looked at the ground and muttered. “They’re dead.” Fear struck your heart as you thought the worst, her children? Your brothers? “What?! Who is Heleana?” You grabbed her hands and sat her down on your settee. “House Martell, at least, the prince and his father. Qoren Martell is now to be their new king.” You couldn’t help but smile. “How did they die?” Heleana finally looked at you, “They say Aegon and Aemond left in the middle of the night. No one could stop them as Aegon mounted Sunfyre and Aemond mounted Vhagar, they burned them on the Fork Road until nothing but ashes were left. Grandfather is furious as you might have heard.”
That was the end of a short betrothal between you and the prince of Dorne. It took two weeks for things to finally calm in the Red Keep. But the two brothers' plans to keep you here were not completed. Sure their enemy was dead but it would be sooner or later the hand found a new match so they had to make sure you couldn’t marry. You were sitting in your bedchamber on your settee, in your nightgown, your long silver hair down while reading a book about The First Men. When all of a sudden your bedchamber creaked open, as you looked up from your book both Aegon and Aemond entered your bedchamber. You weren’t allowed to speak to them, for two weeks you hadn’t been able to leave other than to pray by your mothers request. You couldn’t help but smile as both of them entered with a mischievous grin on their faces. You also noticed the guards outside were gone.
“You know you aren’t allowed to be here.” You said closing your book. They didn’t say a word as Aegon went and sat down on the settee in front of you, while Aemond settled next to you. “For two weeks we have lived in agony of not seeing you, not speaking to you. But as you know, Aegon and I have taken matters into our own hands. You, are ours. And we will do anything and burn anyone to keep you here.” Aemond spoke as he moved your hair behind your ear, placing a featherlight kiss on your neck making your eyes flutter shut. A fire started to burn inside you, heart thumping in your chest and a tingling feeling in your abdomen. When you opened your eyes you saw Aegon looking at you through half lidded eyes, his lips parted as you noticed a bulge in his pants. You weren’t stupid, you knew what sex was and you knew what they wanted and oh did you want it too.
“You, I think, know how we can keep you here. If your innocence is ruined, you’ll have no choice but to marry Aemond. You’ll stay here and have his children and of course you can keep taking care of me as well, right sister?” Aegon spoke, now standing up and moving to sit at your right side. You could only nod as Aemond groaned and moved his hand up your thigh, while Aegon grabbed your chin and smashed his lips on yours. Moving his lips feverishly against yours. Teeth clashing, tongue entwining and hands moving to rip off any clothes that were on you in the first place. Aemond finally had you bare next to him as his hand moved between your thighs, his lips and tongue moving over your neck. You moaned in Aegon's mouth, even your filthiest fantasies couldn’t compare to the real thing.
“Need you so bad mommy.” Aegon whined against your lips. You could hear a faint chuckle from Aemond who now used two fingers to tease your wet folds. “Listen to him, you haven’t even touched him yet and he’s already begging for it.” You couldn’t even speak as Aegon refused to stop kissing you. Aemond now circling your clit with his fingers making your free hands grip the fabric of the settee. Aegon started to remove his own clothes while never leaving your lips as Aemond paused to take off his as well. Both men now in their breeches, their hard ons evident between their legs. The effect you had on them made you feel like a goddess. You had them wrapped around your finger and they had you wrapped around theirs.
Aemond moved off the settee and kneeled between your legs, you looked down at him as he undid the clasp of his eyepatch, the sapphire in his eye socket twinkling in the candlelight. Aegon moved his lips down towards your chest, taking a nipple in his mouth and suckling on it like a babe. Aemond started to kiss between your thighs moving further until he reached your aching cunt. Tongue darted out as he began to lap at your folds. You could barely breathe as pleasure consumed you. Aegon sucked and licked at your breast hungrily, holding the other in his hand and using his right hand to pull down his breeches enough to free his cock. As Aemond continued to eat you like a starved man making you moan and whine, Aegon started to pump his cock, eager for that pure bliss. "Fuck- mommy-" Aegon mumbled.
Both brothers groaned and panted against you, Aemond now palming himself through his breeches. He couldn’t help it, he was too impatient. Precum started to leak from Aegon’s tip, he moaned and whined around your nipple. You couldn’t take it anymore, the erotic sounds, the feeling of one brother fucking you with his tongue and the other sucking on your breast while he was pleasuring himself, with a gasp and a plead you reached your peak. Seeing spots of how hard you squeezed your eyes shut. Your thighs clamping together around Aemonds head, which he forced right open before he stood back up. You hadn’t even noticed he removed his breeches as well. His cock stood proud, also leaking from the mere sight of you bare before him.
Aemond eyed Aegon hungrily, also seemingly turned on by the noises he made. Not to mention the sight of him at your breast while fucking his own fist. Aemond pulled Aegon of your nipple by his jaw and forced him to face his brother, before pulling him in a harsh kiss. Aegon made a strangled noise at the action and stopped pleasuring himself to hold the back of Aemond’s head, not wanting to let go of him. Then Aemond pushed his knee between Aegon's legs right against his hard cock.
Aegon gasped against his brother's lips, you whined at the sight, never had you seen such an erotic scene before you and you were begging the gods to not let it stop. Aemond didn’t stop there but started to move with more pressure against Aegon’s cock, capturing his moans in his mouth. Aegon removed himself from Aemond’s lips for a moment. “Please- don’t stop- feel so good.” He mumbled. Your hand unconsciously slid down your body, touching yourself was the only way to relieve that nagging ache that returned again. But to Aegon and to your surprise, Aemond did stop. Making Aegon whine at the removal of the contact. “On the bed, both of you.” Aemond commanded, and both of you scrambled towards your bed.
Aemond followed, positioning you like you weighed nothing. Putting you on your hands and knees, commanding Aegon to move towards your head while he stayed behind you. Aegon knew exactly what Aemond wanted and already held the base of his cock to smear his precum across your parted lips. Aemond grazed your other lips with his cock, smearing your arousal around. He reached out his hand to Aegon. “Spit.” Aegon did as told immediately and let his saliva drop onto his little brother's hand. Which Aemond used to coat his cock making it easier to breach your maidenhead. Aegon entered your mouth and hissed at the feeling, somehow this was better then any whores cunt. His sister and his brother sharing the bed with him was better than a thousand whores.
You softly sucked on Aegon’s cock while Aemond pushed the head of his into your cunt. You whined around Aegon while Aemond sank further into you, a shuddering breath leaving his lips at the feeling of his sister's tight hole around him. He had waited so long, feeling sure that the two of you would be wed but that day never came, and it would never unless he took the matter into his own hands. Moans, gasps and panting filled the moonlit room, it was almost an ethereal sight. Three silver haired bodies becoming one. When Aemond felt you relax and Aegon started to carefully fuck your mouth, he started to move as well. Wanting nothing more than to fill you with his seed that would hopefully take root so he could finally make you his wife and mother of his children. "Oh mommy feels so good-" Aegon whined.
As your moans grew louder, Aemond started to fuck into you harder. Gripping your hips so he could move you against him as well. Aegon was the first to finish, being already so pent up and horny he didn’t last long in your warm wet mouth. With a gasp of your name he filled your throat with his cum, fingers entangled in your hair for support. He pulled his softening dick out and laid down next to you catching his breath. Aemond started to now pound into you like a wild animal, it seemed as if he was so lost in pleasure he couldn’t hear or see anything else but you. Aegon however, with a clearer mind, sat up and moved closer to you. Letting his hand trace your body to where you and Aemond were connected.
Moving his fingers until he found your clit, you confirmed with a moan. He let his fingers rub against your sweet spot adding to the pleasure of your building orgasm. You pleaded for more, and Aegon started to move his fingers in rhythm with Aemond. This was all you needed, all you needed to scream out their names while gripping the sheets in ecstasy. Your walls clenched around Aemond, making him see stars. Aegon removed his fingers and watched in awe as his brother fucked you relentlessly.
However Aemond’s thrusts were getting sloppier. And his cursing and groaning made it clear he was about to peak as well. With a couple of final thrusts he came hard. Making sure to go as deep as possible, he spurted his cum right against your cervix. Surely filling your womb with his spent. Giving you a couple of lazy trusts he made sure to be completely milked empty before pulling out. Letting himself fall on the bed next to you so he could pull you against his side. Aegon, not wanting to be left out of it, crawled against your other side, cuddling up next to you. What you didn’t notice, was how the door was accidentally left ajar. Your brothers made sure the entire Red Keep knew of your bedding. Surely they can’t deny Aemond his sister now?
#house of the dragon#hotd#aemond targaryen#hotd smut#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen x aemond targaryen x reader smut#aegon targaryen x aemond targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon ii targaryen#aemond x reader
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Namami has only been seeing y/n for a month but he's already so smitten.
The way she walks, the way she talks, the way she carries herself, her confidence, the way she applies her makeup, the colours she gets on her nails, the pretty outfits she wears, her facial expressions, everything. He's obsessed with her.
He met her at a little bookstore. He mostly goes there to browse and relax after long and tiring shifts. He enjoys the smell of the books and the overall atmosphere, sometimes he ends up picking something that pricks his interest.
Y/n was there doing the same thing when she saw him holding one of her favourite books. She couldn't help but comment on his amazing choice. He thanked her and asked her if she liked it. She let him know that it's a top pick for her but not number one. He proceeded to ask which book she liked the most. One thing led to another and he ended up leaving the store with her number saved on his phone.
After he noticed that not only has he been talking to her for a week straight, but he also always looked forward to reading her texts, answering her calls and talking on the phone, he decided to ask her on a date.
Namami did not go on many dates before. But when he did, he'd always asked his coworker Gojo to call him at a specific time, if he was enjoying the date he would tell the person he's with that it's just work related and not to worry about it, but if he wasn't he would tell them that he's needed for an emergency and he would pay for their cab and make sure they make it home safe before letting them down gently the next time he talks to them. Thankfully he only did the latter once when the person was being borderline creepy and he felt unsafe.
The date with y/n was a first for him. After she agreed, he told her about the time and location, planning on taking her to a nice restaurant, a classic. He was surprised when she disagreed and asked if he'd be comfortable with coming over to her house. She told him that she loved cooking but never got the chance to make big meals. Namami agreed, and it made his heart swell with happiness when she told him she was excited for their date.
The date was nothing less than perfect. He immediately felt at home the moment he stepped foot in her apartment, he particularly loved that she uses small lights instead of overhead ones, something he does at his apartment as well. She set the table beautifully, with candles and some of the most unique tableware. The food was a whole different story. He could not believe he was eating all that for free. He has been to many fancy restaurants, but none of them compared to her cooking.
When Namami asked if it was okay for him to ask her a couple of questions to see if they were on the same page when it comes to the future if they're planning on sharing one, he was surprised again when she said she was glad he brought up that topic because she had her own questions as well. Namami immediately knew that this would turn out for the best because his past dates always either tried to dodge this discussion or told him he was rushing things.
He first asked her about marriage. She told him that she wants to get married and that it's definitely something she hopes would happen in the future when she's ready, he agreed. He asked her if she'd want them to live together with a partner, she said yes but not immediately, maybe one and half to two years into the relationship, he agreed. She asked him about kids and if he sees himself being a father in the future, he said yes but he wants kids not immediately after marriage but to wait a year or two before trying, she agreed. She asked him about how he would handle disagreements and arguments, he told her that he was a very calm person and enjoys the peace communication brings, so he'd sit with his partner and figure out the problem and how to resolve it, she agrees.
Namami started to feel giddy when he realised they have both agreed to many of each other's answers and even shared similar opinions. Would she be the one he spends forever with? The thought didn't seem so bad at the moment, he hoped to get his answer quickly.
But he wasn't expecting it to happen within a month.
They discovered they shared the same route on their way to work and began walking it together. Nanami started to look forward to seeing her. Every morning, she greets him with a smile and "hi, Ken!" which he started responding to with "hi, Barbie" after watching the Barbie movie, she always giggles and throws her arms around his neck in a hug. He buys her her favourite boba and she drinks it while they walk and talk about whatever comes to mind. He drops her off at work since it's closer than his, but not before pressing a kiss to her forehead that she started calling her "good luck kiss". They even spend their lunch breaks together by talking through facetime. He was the type to skip that free time to get more work done, but he stopped doing that in favour of talking to his favourite girl.
He started looking forward to seeing her and talking to her. Weekends have become boring, sure they text, but it's not like hearing her voice, even through the phone speaker. She consumed his brain, she became his first thought in the morning and his last before bed. Thankfully, Nanami isn't dumb, and he realised he is in fact falling in love.
He didn't want to play around, after all, they're both serious about this relationship. He plans on confessing, letting her know his true feelings. It's a scary thought, something he has never done before, and he hopes she wouldn't reject him given that he fell for her fast when they both agreed this would be a "getting to know each other" phase. But he can't control how he feels about her, she makes him look forward to the future, as long as she is a part of it.
It's the weekend, Nanami invited her over in the afternoon to watch movies and hang out at his apartment, but despite what the weather forecast said, the somewhat sunny morning quickly developed into a stormy evening, one that was strong enough for him to turn the hang out into a sleepover. He gave her a pair of his pajama pants and a shirt to get comfortable and put the frozen pizza he has for emergencies in the oven.
They're sitting on the couch, a movie long forgotten on TV as y/n tells him a very interesting work story. He's trying to focus, he really is, but the way she's so close to him, her folded legs almost on top of his, her hair wrapped around his fingers as he plays with the strands, the way her face lights up when she remembers a detail, it's all so precious.
“and then she got mad and-”
“I love you.”
Y/n stops talking and he's instantly regretting his words. They literally slipped out of his mouth, he had no control over them. It's like she pressed a botton and they came out. He starts fearing the worst and his brain starts telling him that he made things awkward and uncomfortable for her and she can't even escape because there's a storm outside. Fuck... Why did he need to rush? Everything has been going perfectly, and now he ruined it. He's gonna have to find a way to make up for this. He'll apologize a billion times if needed, but he can't afford to lose her.
“Ken, I love you too, so much, but I need to finish the story.”
Huh-
“Right. Sorry, darling. Please continue, I'm all ears.”
He isn't all ears, he can't be all ears, because he can hear how fast his heart is beating and he can feel the blood rushing to his face. She said it back, she loves him, so much too! Is he dreaming, is it still the night before and he hasn't called her yet to invite her over? No. It can't be. He wants this to be real... and it is, everything is real. The way she's holding on to his fingers is real, the way she's excitedly telling him the rest of her story is real, the way he's holding back from smiling so hard is real, the way the pizza smell is filling the room is real.
“oh shit, the pizza.”
Nanami bolts to the kitchen, quickly grabbing the oven mitts and pulling the pizza out just in time. When he quickly glaces towards the living room, he can see y/n hunched over and squealing into the pillow, her feet kicking slightly. He chuckles. She really tried to play it like his words did not affect her the way they affected him, but it seems like their feelings are mutual in every way possible.
Nanami is somehow even more excited for forever with her now.
#ᯓᡣ𐭩 beloved's stories#divider by v6que#nanami x reader#nanami x you#nanami x y/n#nanami x fem!reader#nanami x female reader#nanami kento#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#nanami#nanami fluff#nanami fanfic#jjk x fem!reader#jjk x female reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jjk fanfic#jjk fluff#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#self insert#kento x reader#kento x y/n#kento x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#nanami kento x y/n#nanami kento x fem!reader
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somewhere in the netherlands
summary: Max realises his retirement from F1 is all worth it.
pairing: dad!max verstappen x mom!reader
warnings: pregnancy, mentions of weight gain and insecurity
word count: 1.5k
a/n: DAD!MAX DAD!MAX WE ALL CHANT IN UNISON
my masterlist <3
Max quietly groaned as he woke up, the ache in his bones from a hard season of racing had taken its toll on him, the ache settled deep in his bones, but he was hoping that this would be it. He had announced his retirement following his 4th championship, citing that he wanted to retire on a high and be able to spend time with you and your children.
Children.
Your son, Ruben, had recently turned 3, and in a few short months, your family would be growing in size with the addition of your little girl. He turned on his side to face you, he found that the space between you in the morning grew bit by bit every morning as your little girl grew. He smiled, placing his hand on your swollen middle, feeling the kicks of your daughter through your RedBull Racing shirt - It was one of Max's champion t-shirts, but these days, you found Max's t-shirts were all that could fit over your ever growing stomach.
"Max, she was sleeping," You sleepily groaned, rubbing a hand over your stomach to try and soothe the child kicking at your ribs. Max chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on your lips.
"Sorry, schatje, just wanted to make sure that she knows I'm here now," He said quietly, as if his hushed tone would somehow send your daughter back to sleep. You giggled, trying your hardest to shuffle closer to your husband.
"I think that you being here is what's causing her to kick, my love," You joked, placing your hand on Max's cheek, rubbing it with your thumb. These mornings made Max realise how lucky he was, he knew that he had turned it around from how his father treated him - He made it clear to you that if Ruben didn't want to drive go-karts, then that would be perfectly fine. Your son had taken an interest in football, and even though Max fell short of the skills in that, he always made an attempt to play along with Ruben, even if he always let him win. "We're so lucky to have you Max. Me, Ruben, and baby girl, we're so lucky to have you." You told him, resting your head on his shoulder.
"I think I'm the lucky one, I don't know what I did so right to get so lucky to have such a loving family and wife," He placed a kiss on your lips, taking your hand in his and rubbing over the cold material of your wedding band. "I can't wait to spend the rest of my life with you and the kids, our own little babies." You smiled as you nodded - You hadn't had much of a say over Max retiring, but you made sure that he knew that either way, you would support him with all that you had.
Secretly, you were relieved when he told you that he was retiring. You never told him about the endless pit of anxiety that opened up in your stomach at every race weekend, the constant fear that something bad would happen to him, and that you would be left to raise your children on your own without the love of your life.
The thought didn't bare thinking about.
You were snapped out of your thoughts by the gentle creaking of yours and Max's bedroom door opening, followed by the soft padding of your son's feet coming into the room. Clad in his blue pyjamas, his blonde hair a mess on his head, and carrying his favourite comforter.
"Mama," He made your way over to your side of yours and Max's bed, but your heart broke every time that he wanted you to lift him up - You really wanted to try, but you couldn't risk hurting you or baby girl.
"Mama can't lift you, Rubear, come over and Daddy'll lift you up and you can sit between us," Max told the small boy, offering him a compromise on you lifting him. Ruben knew that his baby sister was growing in your tummy, but that was as much as he knew. He padded over to the other side of your shared bed, holding his arms up to his father to be picked up, to which he obliged and picked his small son up. "There's my boy, did you sleep good?" Ruben nodded and lay down against his father's chest, holding Max's t-shirt in his small hands and he clung to his father.
As the winter rain battered off the window, you, Max and your son settled down for a cosy morning in bed, you rubbing small circled on Ruben's back as he settled on top of Max.
This made Max retiring worth it. Spending time with you and Ruben as a small family of three before you gave birth to your daughter was worth it, being able to see your kids grow up was worth it, to even see you have another child - in Max's mind, everything was worth it. The daily, mundane activities would be worth it, taking Ruben to school, grocery shopping, cooking - Those things made his retirement worth it.
"Go Ruben!" Max cheered, trying not to get too excited that your daughter, Saskia, would lose her grip on his shoulders. Ruben had gotten bored of football and taken an interest in his father's hobby, and it was clear that being a champion ran in the Verstappen bloodline. "Y/N look, he's in the lead!" He cheered excitedly. You smiled at Max's excitement, he made sure that when Ruben was racing, his yelling was a sign of constant encouragement, telling his son how well he was doing - He was breaking the cycle, as the harsh words his father screamed at him at 8 years old were still prominent in his mind.
"I see, my love, I'm just scared if I get too excited, I'll go into labour," You giggled, your concern genuine at this point. You were 8 months pregnant with yours and Max's last baby, you'd told him that if he got you pregnant again, then you would give him the snip yourself. "Saskia, baby, are you not cold, do you want your hat?" You shouted up to your daughter.
"No mama, I'm okay!" She shouted back to you, a smile which mirrored your husband's present on her face as she watched her older brother speed around the track. With Max's hands occupied holding your daughter's ankles, you put your arm around his waist, to which you smiled - Max had never been known to have a little waist, but he had gained what you had affectionally called 'a dad bod'. He'd gotten insecure about it after a while, which you understood - He'd gone from being at his peak physical health, to carrying a few extra pounds.
You'd told him none of that mattered to you, that no matter how he looked, fat or thin, that you would always love him - You told him that it was a sign that he loved his children, a sign that he could indulge in their favourite treats with his kids. He had told you the exact same thing a couple of months prior, when you realised that after 3 kids, your body no longer looked the same - But that made it more special to Max, that your body bore the marks of what it was possible of, of creating and carrying life.
"Go Ruben!" You, Max and Saskia cheered at the same time, watching as your oldest son crossed the finish line in first place. He immediately gout out of his kart, instantly searching for you and Max, but spotting his little sister on his shoulders first. Max brought Saskia down and off of his shoulders, so he could meet his son's embrace as he came running to him.
"Dad! Did you see me dad?! I won! Mama did you see me too?!" He yelled excitedly, having tossed his helmet to the side of Max, who crouched down to embrace your son in a tight embrace.
"Of course we saw you! You did so good out there, we're all so so proud of you Ruben!" He cheered, lifting his son into the air as you held onto your daughter's hand. "Our winning boy, right girls?" You and Saskia nodded, your eyes filling with tears as you saw your daughter immediately run to hug her big brother.
Damn pregnancy hormones.
"Mama, can I please take Saskia up with me to get my trophy?" Ruben asked you, pulling his best puppy eyes. You looked to Max, who nodded in response, agreeing with you.
"Of course you can, honey, just be careful in case you need to help her up if the podium is too high, okay?" Ruben nodded as he ran away with his little sister in tow, and you leaned against Max as he stood beside you, his arm around you. "He's such a good big brother." You said, looking up at your husband, who watched his children with nothing but pride in his eyes.
"They're both perfect, thank you so much for bringing them into the world, Schatje."
#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x reader comfort#max verstappen fluff#f1 x reader#f1 imagine#formula 1#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#dad!max#max verstappen#mv1 fanfic#mv1#mv1 x reader#mv1 fic#mv1 imagine#formula one#mv33
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ordinary
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Five Hargreeves x Fem!Reader Synopsis: A normal morning with Five Word Count: 1.2k Tags: Fluff, Season 4 fix it fic Note: wanted to write for five in my tipsy stupor and this was born. Also, send requests!
He wouldn’t change this for anything, six years with you had been as close to heaven as he could ever hope to get.
Five had done a lot of bad things in his life- he was sure he was as close to the devil as one could get but you had always been there, the sun to his moon, the smile to his frown, the Hera to his Zeus. All he had ever wanted was for time to stop, for him not to be worrying about his family and an upcoming apocalypse and that is all he had up until now. the complete freedom from that aspect of his life finally allowed him to have his retirement. Until he got bored and applied for the CIA.
Getting the job was something Diego may have envied but you fully supported it because while he may have the memories and mind of a much older man psychically he didn’t look any older than eighteen and neither did you thanks to his mess-up with the calculations a whole three apocalypses ago. He had spent twenty-six years by your side now and still didn’t seem long enough in his opinion.
Waking up by your side was a gift he hoped he never had to give up. Watching you sleep with a soft smile as he realised that this was his reality now- the world was safe, you were safe. He never needed to worry about something coming to take you and his family away again- it had been six years of peace and he can only look forward to even more.
He hated waking you up in the morning but also knew that you would be sad if he left for work before you could give him a kiss goodbye, something he wouldn't admit to also missing if he ever dared to leave you asleep in bed. Luckily, today he had the day off as did you for it was little Grace's birthday a day the young girl was very excited for because her "favourite auntie and uncle" would make an appearance her voice echoing in his head from when you had called Lila for a chat yesterday and confirmed to very happy Grace Stanley Hargreeves that the two of you wouldn’t dare miss her birthday party after she had threatened that her father would come and kidnap the pair of you if you dared to miss her most special day. It was later on in the day in the afternoon as Lila had claimed annoyed that it couldn’t be too early as she needed time to not only get the twins ready but also set up the party as the kids club it was going to be located at so he got to watch you for the first time in whoever knows how long sleep in and not feel bad for not waking you up.
Eventually, he could feel the need for coffee overwhelm him knowing that if he didn't get some in his system he would soon become a ‘grumpy old man’ as you liked to say so he slowly unwrapped his hands from around you and gave a soft kiss to your forehead as he departed from the warm of your embrace and made his way towards the kitchen his main goal to make himself a cup of goddam coffee.
You grumbled slightly at the feeling of his lips on your head trying to snuggle back into his neck when you noticed his removal from the haven of your warm bed causing you to groan at the loss of him.
Ever since saving the world more than once you found it hard to sleep without him the fear of living in a world without him haunts you on darker days and frightening nights so it was of no surprise to you when your eyes quickly blinked open at the loss of him in the bed luckily his side was still warm calming your brain as you slowly and annoyingly began to awaken a lot earlier than you would’ve wished for on your day off.
After a few minutes of rolling around in the bed hoping you could convince yourself to go back to sleep you deceitfully trudged yourself away leaving the safety of your covers in order to find your lover. Yawning as you made your way from your bedroom into the kitchen smelling the coffee from a mile away giving his location away easily you found him sitting at the breakfast table sipping coffee smiling softly as he saw you appear from the door you smiled back lazily as you dropped into the chair opposite his, head resting on your hands as he strokes your face with his thumb in an apology for waking you up you simply hummed in understanding- he can’t be awake too long without coffee otherwise he will become irritable and you couldn’t have that with Grace’s birthday party being at two o'clock.
Luther had called yesterday letting you know that he would be picking up Ben from prison as he was finally getting released today, he also mentioned that Victor was planning on making an appearance. A fact that left you and Five shocked barely hearing from the Hargreeves sibling since you had split off after Alison reset the timeline.
Five stopped stroking your face as he got up from his chair walking into the living room before quickly returning with the crossword puzzle book you had gifted him for his birthday, he made a point to do one puzzle every morning before he did anything else, except have his coffee that is, claiming that it made him feel ready for the day and feel as though you were with him on the days he set off for work before you had even awoken a fact that made you smile as you looked at the boy- a man as he now liked to claim as he looked down at his puzzle his eyebrows furrowed as he completed it with ease only meeting your gase once he had finished today crossword eyebrows raising as you smiled at him before reaching to tuck the hairs in front of his face behind his ears as they usually go in his eyes. Something that while it annoyed him he wouldn’t dare cut his hair any shorter especially after you had spoken of your fondness over this overgrown style. His hands grabbed at your wrists before you could pull away from him, using this as leverage he drew you closer to press a slow kiss to your lips smiling as you hummed in content at the contact of his lips on yours, his hands stroking at your wrists making butterflies erupt in your stomach as if he hadn’t been doing this for the past two decades. You smiled as you parted your hand coming to rest on his jaw where his dimple sat among his freckles, he smiled back at you his eyes not daring to leave yours.
You both were sure that while this day was going to be as ordinary as the others had these past six years it would be special just because you were here together.
#five hargreaves x reader#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves#the umbrella academy#tua s4#tua x reader#tua x you#five x reader#number five#number five x reader#five imagine#five#tua imagine
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Everyone's Favourite LeClerc : ̗̀➛ Charles LeClerc
summary: he was used to being the leclerc on everybody's lips, but when you take your daughter to visit the paddock it turns out charles might not be the favourite that he thought he was
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You could hear the familiar chuckles coming from the Ferrari garage from halfway down the paddock, keeping your daughter in your hold as you swerved around the chaos. There were people everywhere that you tried to avoid, eventually reaching the garage and opening up the door, greeted, as always, by a sea of dark red staring back at you.
From across the room, Carlos was the first to spot you, waving over the crowds. He moved around a few people before reaching you and your daughter, kneeling down as you placed your daughter on her feet.
“Aurelie!” He yelled, capturing her attention as she stumbled towards him, barely able to keep her balance.
“She’s been asking for you all morning,” you chuckled, moving across to Carlos to greet him too.
“Oh I see, second best am I?” A voice called out as he closed in on the three of you. Charles didn’t miss a trick, as soon as he knew that you were in the room his protective eyes were trying to find you. He pressed a kiss against your cheek as Aurelie continued to cuddle Carlos, completing ignoring her father. “Am I invisible or something, you can see me, right?” Charles pouted, looking to you for a little bit of support. Your hand pressed against his cheek, offering a sympathetic smile.
“She only saw you, it’s been weeks since she got to see Carlos,” you reminded him, knowing that Charles was only messing with the strop that he threw beside you.
“I can’t believe my own daughter doesn’t even want to know me,” he huffed.
“Sucks to be you,” Carlos teased as Aurelie ran her hands through Carlos’ fluffy locks.
Charles watched the two of them for a few more moments before he reached out his hands. “That’s it, you’re mine,” he teased, taking Aurelie from Carlos’ hold and showering her with kisses all over her face. Aurelie squealed and squirmed in his hold, trying her best to push against his chest and get away. Charles was nowhere near letting her go though, reminding her exactly who her father was and who loved her the most.
“Poor girl,” Carlos chuckled as he watched the two of them.
“You’re my baby,” Charles whispered as he finally let Aurelie relax in his hold.
“So jealous,” you hummed under your breath, just loud enough for Charles to hear as he shot a glare across in your direction.
“Fancy having a look around? Seeing the car for this weekend?” Carlos offered as he slung his arm across your shoulders. “We’re on for a good race this week.”
You nodded in reply, “Aurelie has been desperate to see daddy’s car,” you noted, watching as Charles’ eyes lit up as you spoke.
“Shall we go and see daddy’s car?” He asked, proudly grinning as the girl in his arms bounced up and down excitedly, keen to have a good look around.
“And Uncle Carlos’ car too?” Carlos added, feeling Charles stare across at him, unable to stop himself from getting a little jab in and winding Charles up once again.
You hung back slightly as Charles and Carlos began to walk Aurelie around the garage, one of her small hands in each of their own. She was still too young to fully understand what was going on, but seeing how busy things were always made her eyes light up. Seeing people cheer for her dad and want to talk to her too was the perfect weekend for her.
Aurelie listened closely as Charles talked her through his car, making sure to keep it as simple as he could. Once the garage tour was completed you decided to head out around the rest of the paddock and see what you could find. Soon enough you had several of the drivers around you, all keen to greet Aurelie and see who could entertain her the best.
You had never seen Charles so proud, he loved introducing his little girl to his world and letting her see all the cool things he got up to. Above all else, he loved that some of his closest friends were there with him at the garage and that he got to see them bond with Aurelie which was all that he had ever wanted. His daydream was broken by you appearing next to him, nudging gently against his side. Charles’ smile turned up as soon as he realised that it was you there, taking a hold of your hand and pulling you closely in against his side.
As much as Charles wanted to have all his attention on you, he couldn’t ignore the giggles that constantly came from next to him as Lando and George tried their best to keep Aurelie happy.
It was nice for the two of you to have a couple of moments all to yourselves.
“I love having you both here and being able to have you in my little world,” Charles whispered, pressing a gentle kiss against the side of your head. “It always gives me extra motivation to do well whenever I know that the two of you are cheering me on as well,” he added.
“I wouldn’t miss this race for the world,” you whispered, “I know how important Monaco is for you and how much you want to do well today.”
“Thank you for being here,” Charles then told you, taking you by surprise with how sincere his voice was. “I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate the efforts you go to to support, and make sure that Aurelie can come and support me too.”
Your eyes narrowed on Charles, convinced there was a hint of a tear in his eye.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he joked, knowing exactly what you were thinking without even having to look at you. “I’m not going to start crying with all of these losers around to see it and tease the hell out of me for it.”
“It’s okay to admit that it means a lot,” you assured him, brushing underneath his eye with the pad of your thumb. “Truthfully, it means a lot for me to be able to be here and see you achieve your dreams too.”
As much as F1 was a dream for Charles, the biggest dream he’d achieved was the giggling figure currently pulling at Lando’s feeble attempt of a beard on his face.
You both could only laugh as Lando squealed in pain, pushing against George as he encouraged Aurelie to keep going and cause Lando as much pain as possible.
“I worry about the influence of all your friends sometimes,” you jokingly admitted to Charles, shaking your head at the scene that was unfolding.
“How are you two just stood there letting this happen?” Lando gasped at you both.
You both shrugged, much to Lando’s dissatisfaction. She was as cheeky as her dad, and loved to try and push the boundaries as much as she possibly could.
“I blame you for this,” you laughed, tapping against Charles’ stomach. “She copies your habits way more than she copies mine,” you added, raising your eyebrows across at him.
“I’m an angel,” Charles protested.
“You?” You gasped in disbelief, “you must be having a laugh right now.”
“You adore me enough to have a child with me,” he noted.
“True,” you scoffed, finding yourself caught out and unable to figure out what to say next. Charles looked at you expectantly, knowing that he’d got you and once again left you pretty speechless because of him.
When you remained silent, he leant forwards and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “I love our little family, even if it is chaos sometimes.”
“Me too, I would never have it any other way.”
˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗
#f1#f1 imagine#formula 1#formula 1 imagine#formula one#formula one imagine#charles leclerc#charles leclerc imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1 x reader#formula 1 x you#charles leclerc x reader#charles leclerc x you#charles leclerc drabble#formula one x you#formula one x reader#formula 1 drabble#f1 drabble#f1 fic#f1 fluff#charles leclerc fluff
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for his little girl...
...the one where seungmin feels insecure about not being the best dad, but his sweet girl assures him that he is
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"there." seungmin mutters as he finishes making your daughter's braids. the little girl turns her head around, looking at the two lopsided pigtails, unsure of how to react. she brings her hand up to one of them, trying to align it, only for the rubberband to come undone in her tiny fingers.
seungmin sighs at this, pulling her back by the waist and attempting to gather up the loose strands of hair once again. your husband was everything a child could ever ask for in a father. he was playful yet strict. he was never too overwhelming when it came to handling her but he always made sure your little girl knew he was always there for her.
it wasn't easy to handle the 3 year old but seungmin had actively worked on it. he learnt to bake brownies from felix upon seeing her daughter's face light up when she would have them. they weren't as good as his, sure, but he would never find that out because she always made sure to tell him how much she adored her father's brownies, even if they were a little dry.
he noticed how much she would like it every time she and hannie would sing their favourite anime openings together, so he made sure to find out their names and blast them in the car for your little one to sing her heart out to.
kim seungmin tried his best for his little girl but sometimes he felt he wasn't good enough for her. he didn't deserve her. that her smile was too pure and innocent to be directed at him, that it wasn't his jokes that broke her into fits of giggles and it most certainly wasn't the sight of his face that made her leap from joy the second she saw him at the school gates.
"ish okay dada. you read me tha good storiesh and sing all tha pretty songs otay?" she says and seungmin swears he would've sobbed then and there had he not had the slightest bit of control in him. it's the way she says it like she read his mind. the way she beams at him with her brightest, slightly crooked toothed smile that seungmin thinks, "oh. i am so loved by my little girl" and almost feels guilty for having doubted it in the first place. so he just bites his lip and nods.
"yeah...i think i'll do just that sweetheart."
#stray kids x reader#stray kids fluff#skz fluff#stray kids imagines#skz#skz imagines#stray kids#stray kids fic#skz fic#stray kids x male reader#skz x reader#skz x gn reader#skz x male reader#skz x y/n#seungmin#kim seungmin#seungmin x reader#seungmin x male reader#dad stray kids#dad! stray kids#dad seungmin#stray kids seungmin#seungmin fluff#seungmin comfort
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tolerate it
theodore x fem!reader
based on the song tolerate it by taylor swift
warnings: arranged marriage, reader being really in love with theo, language, implied cheating, angst, theo having daddy issues
Theodore’s father had arranged Theo’s marriage with Y/N Y/L/N as soon as Theo had reached his last year at Hogwarts. In his eyes, she was perfect for him, a pureblood Slytherin with an influential family background. Y/N was happy, she had always been attracted to Theo but she wished it was them that had made this decision and not their parents. In a few weeks, Y/N had already fallen for Theo who, on the other hand still seemed cold and distant. Yet, she was determined to make him let down his guard and see how perfect they were together. She had been successful in her endeavours to an extent. Whenever she got the chance, she would sit with her head low and watch him intently, reading for school, observing his face or when they would spend the night together, she would watch him breathe with his eyes closed, his face peaceful and serene. The mere sight of him was a source of comfort for her. Whenever he would be upset, frustrated or even excited, she was glad to be there for him and listen to him vent. Theo had gained a soft spot for her, thinking that he could love her. Even when he didn’t wish to accept that his father was right, he couldn’t deny that Y/N was as close to a perfect fit as he had ever gotten, but the thought of giving in to his father was eating him alive.
Y/N was completely oblivious to these thoughts of Theo. She was elated that Theo had been reciprocating some of her love. Until they had started fighting, Theo had started calling her a bit too clingy and stating that she always took up too much space and time. That hurt her like a dagger to the heart, she had always been trying to be perfect for him, but she tolerated it. She took all his indiscretions in good fun, she tried to be better and give him space. All of that still didn’t seem to satisfy Theo, if only, it made him take her for granted, it made him assume that he always had her to fall back on. Soon, their arguments became more frequent and Theo returned to his cold and distant self. She started noticing the little things that he had started doing to avoid her and the things he didn’t do, the little things that he used to do earlier that made her feel like he could love her back. Y/N thought it’d be best to go home for the weekend, giving Theo some space and then she would surprise him hoping that it’ll make him a bit happier.
Theo had accompanied her to the station. ‘I’ll miss you.’, she said, pecking his cheek. She felt him get away from her touch as he said, ‘It’s only the weekend.’ ‘Right.’, she sighed, feigning a small smile. Wordlessly, he turned around and walked away as she made her way back to her carriage.
While she was set to return to Hogwarts on Monday morning, she had planned to surprise Theo by returning on Sunday evening. She had baked lasagne for him, the recipe for which she had taken from the Nott’s house elf, in an attempt to make it taste like his mother’s. She knew how much he missed her and how this dish was his comfort food when she used to make it for him. She had also bought him a watch that he had had his eye on for a while, ‘only the best for Theo.’, she had said after her cousin noted that it was way too expensive of a gift.
When she returned to Hogwarts, she made sure to enter the Slytherin common room, when it was the time for the boys’ Quidditch practice. She set her luggage in her dorm and got ready in a dress that Theo had gifted her. She went down to the common room and set up a table in a secluded corner to have some privacy. She laid it all with fancy shit, the silverware, the Italian wine that was Theo’s favourite and the dish in the middle. She sat on one of the chairs which had a clear view of the common room door, waiting for him to return, like she had done several times before. She rested her chin on her hands as she laid her head down on the table. It was almost time for dinner, other students were leaving the common room to go to the Great Hall, but Theo still hadn’t returned. She had an uneasy feeling in her chest as she waited for him, her heart growing heavy with every passing moment.
Soon, the sound of the door opening made her perk her head up slightly. The scene that unfolded in front of her, made her breath hitch and her heartbeat falter. Theo entered the common room with his arm wrapped around the shoulders of another girl, their faces inches apart as Theo leaned in and whispered something in her ear that made her grin. ‘Theo?’, she called out, the feeling of being broken evident in her voice. Theo turned at the mention of his name, his steps faltering and his hand returning to his side quickly as her eyes met Y/N’s figure slowly standing up from the chair. ‘Y/N, wha-what are you doing here?’, he stuttered, the faintest hint of frustration in his voice. His dead eyes took in the view, the table all set in front of him with the food and wine. ‘What-what is going on? Who is she?’, she scoffed in disbelief, her eyes wandering between the two of them. ‘Y/N…Let me explain. Come with me.’, he started, moving towards her, his hand stretching out to hold hers. She snatched her hand away, shaking her head, ‘If it’s all in my head, tell me now. Tell me I have got it wrong somehow. Were you going to cheat on me?’
She searched his face, waiting for an answer, waiting to see the briefest glimpse of remorse or guilt in his emotionless eyes. ‘Or have you done it already?’, she said upon not receiving an answer, looking at him, her voice breaking as tears welled up in her eyes. Theo didn’t meet her gaze, his eyes focussed on the floor, ‘I-I’m sorry.’ ‘Oh, you’re sorry? Is that it?’, she said, her anger taking up over the grief. He looked up, meeting her eyes as the tears rolled down her cheek, ‘I don’t know what to say.’ She sighed in disbelief, her rose-coloured glasses coming off. ‘You have always tolerated me, haven’t you? You never loved me, it was always a facade. A fucking act! All of it!’, she spat, her fist slamming on the table. ‘What did I not do for you? I made you this food that you liked! Bought this wine, this watch you wanted!’, she said, as she flipped over the items, throwing them on the floor as they shattered. ‘Y/N, don’t make a scene. It’s not like that.’, he said, closing his eyes. ‘Oh, you have some fucking nerve, Theodore. I made you my everything, gave you all that I had, and went through all that shit you threw at me. For what? For this?’, she spat coming closer to him, the use of ‘Theodore’ instead of ‘Theo’ making him wince. ‘Anyone else would be lucky to have a person who would love them like this, but you had to throw all of this in the flames didn’t you? My love should’ve been celebrated but you tolerated it. All the while I thought that you were finally coming around.’, she said, every word, every bit of realisation making her heart shatter further, as he shook his head, denying her accusations.
‘Tell me, Theodore. What would you do, if I left everything? If I break free, take this dagger you put in me and remove it? It would leave you in ruins, you know that. You know your father and what he’s capable of.’, she said. Theo looked up and the mention of his father made him realise how royally he had fucked up. ‘I’m sorry, Y/N. Just talk to me once, please.’, he pleaded. She shook her head, ready to walk away from everything with him, ‘There’s nothing left to talk about, Theodore. It’s all over.’
#fanfic#writing#harry potter#hogwarts#wizardblr#hpimagines#theo nott x reader#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott imagine#theo#theodore nott smut#theodore nott x you#theodore nott fluff#theodore nott#slytherin boys x reader#slytherin boys#slytherin#hp fandom#harry potter fandom
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—catalyst.
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pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader
genre: fluff, pining, non-idol au, best friend’s little brother au
word count: 5.4k
summary: when your best friend points out how there seems to be something more than just a platonic friendship going on between you and hyunjin, you couldn’t help but start questioning everything you’ve been doing together so far.
a/n: and we finally get y/n’s pov!! (and a little bit of hyunie’s as always lol can’t help myself). there is a lotttttt of overthinking on her end so please go easy on her, she just got hit by facts she hadn’t thought twice about before (thank u chan).
if anyone comes across this in the tags, this is part 15.2 of a social media series called heart out! you can read it as a stand-alone but i wouldn’t recommend it since there are a lot of references to the previous parts of the story.
as always i hope you all enjoy! if you do, please let me know your thoughts on it<3
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When you woke up that day, you never would’ve expected to end up with so many unanswered questions by the end of it.
It was supposed to be a normal day — a great one, actually. You were having lunch at the Hwang’s household, and that itself was enough to make you happy as ever.
It had been a while since you’d last seen Hyunjin and Yeji’s parents, let alone shared a meal with them, so you took it upon yourself to get up extra early that morning in order to make some dessert for them —a lemon pie and a chocolate one, as they were Mr. and Mrs. Hwang’s favourites— and still have enough time left to get ready.
Yeji called you out as soon as she and Chan arrived to pick you up, ranting about how it wasn’t necessary for you to bring anything, while you and Chan could only laugh, knowing well enough she was already eyeing the lemon pie and thinking of how many pieces she would have.
What only made it funnier to you was that you knew you’d get a similar reaction from Hyunjin once you met him at his parents’, only he’d be eyeing the chocolate pie instead.
Said and done, as soon as you entered their house and Hyunjin came up to greet you —not without first letting you know just how hurt he was over you sharing a ride with your friends instead of him—, he began to go on about how he told you that you didn’t need to bring their parents any presents, like you said you would after his mother had so generously made you some soup when you were in bed with a fever a week ago. Nevertheless, you could see the way he stole a few glances at the chocolate pie, before offering to take it to the kitchen, while Yeji did the same with the lemon one. You could never get bored with these two.
Their parents, you knew very well by now, were just the same as them. It was clear where Yeji and Hyunjin got their humor and antics from.
You always had a very nice time with them, as they’d always find the right topic to keep the conversation going. But then for some reason your dating life made it to the conversation at one point and Mingyu was brought up by their mother asking you about the ‘handsome young man’ they met a couple of times; and somehow that alone would be the catalyst that set off a series of events that ultimately left you questioning your entire relationship with Hyunjin later that night.
“So you are definitely not getting back together with him?” Their mother asked at last, once the whole ‘Mingyu lore’, as Yeji called it, had been covered.
“Um…” you hesitated, eyes unconsciously locking with Hyunjin next to you, before you looked for Yeji, who was in front of him. “No, we’re not”.
“Oh, dear” she lamented. “What he did was such a shame, the two of you certainly made a very nice couple”.
“You heard how he turned out to be an asshole, though” Yeji pointed out, taking the words from Hyunjin’s mouth and inevitably having him and Chan nod in silent agreement.
“It’s a good thing you’re moving past him” their father chimed in this time.
You nodded, giving him a gentle smile. You were trying your best, for sure.
“His parents must be devastated” Mrs. Hwang lamented again, bringing your attention back to her.
This time, you couldn’t help but let out a breathy laugh. “I mean, I got along really well with them, but I wouldn’t go as far as to think they’re devastated���.
“Losing a daughter-in-law as beautiful and attentive as you…” she explained, bringing some heat to your cheeks that you tried to play off by taking a sip of water. “The two of you would’ve made such beautiful children”.
The water you were drinking didn’t follow the path down your throat it should’ve at the sound of her statement, and you inevitably ended up choking on it.
“Yah, mum” Hyunjin called her out, gently patting your back as you tried to catch your breath. “Can we not mention children and her ex in the same sentence?”
“Right, sorry” she apologised, handing you a napkin and giving you a soft smile before her eyes focused on her husband; ignoring the way Hyunjin’s hand remained unconsciously drawing small circles on your back until you were able to breathe normally again. “But just imagine if we had that kind of genes in the family”.
“Did she just call us ugly?” Yeji frowned, locking eyes with Hyunjin, who couldn’t help but chuckle instead of acting offended like his sister — in his eyes you were on a whole other level of beauty after all.
“Honestly though, even I feel offended now” Chan butted in. “I don’t recall you wanting my genes this bad”.
“They met you when we were already a couple, she probably would’ve tried to bribe you too otherwise” Yeji let him know with a cynical laugh, having you all follow right after.
“Trust me, she’s already pictured how cute your children will be” Mr. Hwang let the couple know.
“Can we not?” Yeji pleaded with red cheeks this time. Chan, on the other hand, could not let the opportunity to tease her pass, poking her cheek and repeating in a squeaky voice just how cute their kids would be. “Back to the topic of Y/N’s genes, please” she begged.
“Jeez! Thanks, best friend” you ironically said amidst an incredulous laugh, earning a finger heart and an obnoxious smile from her in response.
“My point was,” their mother resumed her previous train of thought. “Now that Y/N’s single, I’m kind of wishing we had an older son. Imagine how beautiful their children would be if she became a Hwang”.
Well, that certainly felt like a bucket of ice cold water being thrown right at Hyunjin.
“Hyunjin’s right here, though?” Chan pointed out before the youngest could begin to get lost in his —quite angsty— thoughts. “They’re both in their twenties, I’d say there’s hope for Y/N to become a Hwang”.
And maybe, if you weren’t too busy kicking Chan under the table, you would’ve noticed the shy smile curving up Hyunjin’s mouth, as well as his slightly rosy cheeks as he looked down to his still nearly untouched food.
Maybe if Yeji wasn’t too busy laughing at her boyfriend after getting hit and ever so poorly trying to comfort him, she would’ve noticed her brother being all flustered, too.
But, thankfully for him, his parents did. And that was enough for them to nod their heads in silent understanding.
That was the last comment they made about your dating life that afternoon, having no trouble directing the topic once again towards Chan and Yeji’s relationship instead.
You, on the other hand, although had managed to do a pretty good job at following whatever topic was brought up for the rest of the meal, could not seem to let Chan’s comment go.
It was out of place. Way out of it. What did Hyunjin have to do with it anyway? Like, yes, they were talking about you becoming a Hwang and, yes, he was the only son they had, but that didn’t immediately make him an option?
He was three years younger than you. He was only seventeen and still in high school when you met, whereas you were in your second year of university. It felt wrong to even think about it. And it was even worse considering that there was a reason his mum had explicitly mentioned her wish to have an older son instead of pushing you towards Hyunjin right away. It didn’t seem right for them either, as far as you could tell from what had just gone down.
Which is why you couldn’t let it go. Not even after you and Hyunjin got back to your place, like you had agreed to earlier that day when you decided to share a car with Chan and Yeji instead of him, and he wasted no time to secure his much needed alone time with you once you were done at his parents’.
You’d excused yourself to the kitchen to make some popcorn while Hyunjin was comfortably resting on your couch as he looked for any romcom movie to watch while he sipped on the hot chocolate you made as soon as you got home, and you took those few minutes away from him to text Chan and ask for an explanation.
And, God, did you get one.
You re-read the conversation over and over after he went offline, unable to understand where the hell had it all come from.
“He’s 23 now”.
“You may have met when he was 17 but he’s an adult now”.
“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.
“I’m just trying to make you see and actually consider all your choices”.
“Hyunjin is not a little boy anymore”.
Every single text, hitting harder than the other.
Of course he was no longer a little boy. He stopped being one a long time ago, you weren’t stupid. But he was still Hyunjin, Yeji’s little brother. Nothing would ever change that.
You were supposed to care for him just like she did, to be there for him and protect him when the time came. He wasn’t supposed to be ‘a choice’ for you like any other guy could.
He was Hyunjin, the teenage boy who hardly talked to you the weekend you first met and would stutter almost every time he did, and who would so shyly let you and Yeji know dinner was ready whenever you stayed at theirs after that.
Hyunjin, the high school student you’d give some advice regarding the university admission test and applications throughout his last year of it, and whose graduation you attended later on.
Hyunjin, who made it to your university and would constantly ask for your help in his assignments, regardless of him having chosen a completely different major; and who you’d constantly check up on to make sure he was doing okay in his first year of it.
Hyunjin, who held you tight as ever the night Mingyu left you, and refused to go home like Yeji told him it was okay for him to until he was sure you were sound asleep and no longer crying, which didn’t happen until way past four in the morning.
Hyunjin, who would text to check up on you every single day after your breakup, even if it meant getting very short, cold answers from the heartbroken and detached persona that had taken over your body the following weeks.
Hyunjin, who included you in his New Year’s Eve plans and kept you company the entire weekend Yeji and Chan were away.
Hyunjin, who made it known he missed being as close as you once got to be years ago and took the lead to propose picking up where you left off.
Hyunjin, the man who had spent the entire past month making your days better by simply texting or showing up at your place — being there for you even when you didn’t need him to.
Had you really missed how much he was there for you? When was it that the roles reversed and he started to look after you instead?
You jumped when the microwave started beeping, letting you know the popcorn was ready. Shoving your phone into your pocket, you rushed to pour the popcorn into a bowl before making your way back into the living room.
Hyunjin’s head snapped in your direction, unable to hide his smile as soon as he saw you.
You gulped, trying your best to calm your heartbeats down before you took a seat next to him right as he placed the now empty mug on the coffee table. Maybe you should’ve texted Chan later that night, when Hyunjin was back at his place and you wouldn’t have to face him right away after being hit with so many questions.
“I was like one minute away from going over there to see what was taking you so long” he confessed.
“Just making us a small snack” you smiled cutely, shaking the bowl in your hands to make your point.
“I’m pretty sure popcorn takes like three minutes to make in the microwave,” he pointed out, shoving a single one into his mouth. “You took like seven”.
You scoffed in amusement. “Did you set a timer or something?”
“No, but I watched three whole movie trailers,” he admitted, earning a breathy laugh from you. “And that without counting the minutes I spent scrolling through movies to watch. I’d say you took at least ten minutes, actually”.
“Did you miss me that much to actually count the minutes?” You couldn’t help but joke.
“Well, yes” he answered with no hesitation, and no signs of joking either; very unfortunately for your already shaken up heart. “I told you earlier that I hadn’t seen you all week and wanted to spend time with you”.
“We’ve been together nearly all day” you reminded him sweetly.
“Not alone, though” his words made you feel warm inside, like they seemed to be doing a lot lately. “It’s not the same”.
“Sorry,” you pouted, and that was enough for him to melt. “I got kinda caught up texting and… here, I’ll just leave my phone on the table so we’ll just focus on the movie”.
Placing your phone next to his on the coffee table in front, you leaned back against the sofa, tilting your head up towards the TV, so he’d hit ‘play’ and you could get started on your movie night.
When five seconds went by and he didn’t move an inch, you focused your eyes on him instead.
“Hyunie?” You called him, moving your hand in front of him to pull him out of his thoughts and smiling once you did. “Everything alright?”
“Yeah, um, I just…” he struggled, having his eyes going back to your phone. “Was it work related? Like, was it… was he…”
“I was talking to Channie” you clarified when you got what was going through his mind. “Don’t be silly now, you really think I’d spend ten minutes of my life texting my ex boyfriend?”
“I mean, you guys have a project together now, so…”
“Still, we can just get it over with by email” you stood your ground. “I only spend that long texting people I actually enjoy talking to”.
He smiled, happy to know you would usually spend that amount of time texting —if not more— and, therefore, he was one of those lucky ones you enjoyed talking to.
Beaming after that realisation, and with the possibility of you talking to your ex out of the way, he grabbed the remote and pointed it to the TV.
“Is this one okay?” He asked, motioning towards the title ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ displayed on it.
You nodded quite effusively. “What are you waiting for, it’s one of my favourites”.
He bit his lip, but not even that was enough to hide the wide smile taking over his face as he leaned back against the couch as well and finally hit ‘play’. Of course he knew you loved that movie. He wasn’t choosing one only he enjoyed after all, and maybe knowing you’d get happy about it was the reason he ended up going with this particular one.
To be fair, he knew he’d spend half of the movie looking at you instead anyway. It was quite cute how you wouldn’t notice, being way too immersed in the plot you must’ve watched a hundred times by now.
Every now and then, he would reach for the popcorn at the same time as you, with the mere intention of his fingers faintly touching yours, but by the third time they touched and he got no reaction from you, he decided he wanted more — having your fingers touch without you noticing was not enough.
So, he slid slightly down the sofa, just enough for his face to be on the same level as yours, and then he rested his head on your shoulder.
That, you noticed. Hyunjin realised by the way your body tensed up under his touch.
And, for a moment there, he considered sitting up and going back to his previous position, hating the thought of his proximity making you feel uncomfortable; but you greatly surprised him by leaning your head on his before he could do so, silently letting him know right then that you did in fact enjoy being this close to him.
In the end, he had nothing to worry about when it came to touching you, for you had made it clear a while ago that it didn’t bother you. But, then again, he wasn’t sure whether you were only enduring it or actually enjoyed it. He didn’t know which touches were okay and which ones were crossing the line. And the thing was, so far, you enjoyed every single kind of physical contact he had tried with you. They were all brief, innocent even, sweet.
Him leaning his head on your shoulder hadn’t made you tense up because he crossed some kind of line, but because, unknown to him, your head was a complete mess right then. Unable to let your previous conversation with Chan go, you were now questioning the meaning behind this small action of his.
“Considering what’s currently going on between the two of you”.
Was this what he meant by that? You and Hyunjin being this kind of close?
This was the first time he rested his head on your shoulder out of all the times you’d been sitting down on your couch just like this, and now you couldn’t tell whether you were overthinking too much because of your friend’s words, or whether you would’ve started overthinking just the same regardless of it.
Yes, he had held your hand before, but it was an act for the hotteok lady not to feel ashamed after thinking the two of you were a couple.
Yes, you had cuddled through the night on this very couch, but it was only because you passed out without either of you noticing.
Every other ‘major’ touch you shared had an excuse behind it. Hyunjin lying his head on your shoulder, however? It didn’t have one. He just felt like it, wanted to be close to you. And ultimately you ended up giving in and resting your head on his simply because you felt like it, too. It felt nice. Regardless of the mess going on in your head, you wanted to be close to him, too.
Was it even an overthinking matter anyway? Friends did this all the time, right? Both you and Chan used to do it a lot before you and Mingyu started dating. You and Yeji still did it a lot, too, up to this day. Why did it suddenly feel different with Hyunjin?
Damn you, Bang Chan. You certainly didn’t need this right now.
Once again, your thoughts were interrupted by a sound. This one was softer than your microwave’s beep, though, more like a buzz coming from one of the phones on the coffee table. Considering your phone wasn’t on silent mode right then, you knew it was Hyunjin’s.
“Your phone just buzzed” you let him know when he wouldn’t budge.
“Leave it” he replied simply, shoving another handful of popcorn into his mouth.
“What if it’s important?” You wondered.
He sighed, already giving in — as easily as he always did when it came to you. “I’m too comfy, can you pass it to me?”
You nodded in a second, unable to hold back the chuckle that escaped your mouth when you leaned over to grab his phone and he followed your movement, as he refused to lift his head from its comfortable spot on your shoulder.
Just as you were back in your place and about to hand him his phone, though, its screen lit up, letting you see a single message from Dahye.
As soon as you saw it, you panicked, practically shoving the phone into Hyunjin’s hands.
“Sorry, I shouldn’t have read that” you apologised, shamefully looking away.
Hyunjin frowned, sitting up in clear alert before he could check what you were talking about. His eyes opened wide once he read Dahye’s text and he immediately realised what it must’ve looked like to you.
It was a simple question: “Are you coming over tonight?”
No hello, no ‘Hyunjinie~’; just straight to the point, which couldn’t help but lead you to wonder whether texts like this and him going over to her place at night were an usual occurrence by now.
Hyunjin had told you all about her at New Year’s Eve. From how they kissed when he was drunk to how she wouldn’t leave him alone even years after it happened. He told you it was one sided, that he was tired of her constant insistence. But then why did that one text from her make it seem like that wasn’t precisely the case?
Unlike him, you hadn’t read Han’s message following Dahye’s, for it had just been delivered when he checked his phone right then. You hadn’t read the one message that gave the whole context to Dahye’s obscure text.
“She means to the pregame,” he was fast to clear up. “Han just texted me and apparently we’re going to a noraebang tonight and pregaming at Haeun’s. Dahye’s staying with her, so…”
You nodded, feeling like you weren’t in the place to say anything. It was his life, after all. He could be with whoever he wanted. He didn’t owe you any explanations. Fuck, did you want any explanations?
You didn’t know if you were feeling embarrassed for reading a text message that was supposed to be private, or if you were upset over the idea that Chan had just planted in your head being tainted not even an hour later.
Maybe you’d been thinking too much over something that wasn’t even there, being influenced by your best friend and what he thought was going on between you and Hyunjin. Maybe it was nothing after all.
But you couldn’t deny that you did feel quite uneasy over her text.
Were you upset that she was talking to him? Were you upset they were possibly hooking up? Was it being about Hyunjin you were upset about? Or were you just upset over how much the scene playing right in front of you resembled the times you’d just started questioning Mingyu’s relationship with Hayun while you were still together?
The times you’d catch the suspicious text messages popping up on his notifications, how nervous he would get and how he would start to throw excuse after excuse for you to believe he had nothing to do with her… You knew this feeling all too well, and you hated that you were feeling it again, with Hyunjin of all people, when you were not even together, you had no feelings for him as far as you knew, and, most importantly, you knew he was nothing like Mingyu at all.
And yet, here you were, feeling the goddamn lump in your throat you had felt one too many times by now because of a guy.
“Y/N?” He brought you back to reality. He looked worried. “I promise it doesn’t mean what it looked like”.
You had to hold back the hopeless laugh that threatened to escape your mouth at the sound of his words.
Words you had heard and decided to let pass way more times than you were proud of, and which brought you right back to the downfall of your last relationship.
You didn’t know which one of your concerns had to do with the trauma of your past relationship and which ones were actually related to the current situation you had just found yourself in.
When did it all stop being about Mingyu and it started being about Hyunjin?
“It’s okay” you gave him the most genuine smile you could give him, to let him know you were alright. Still, he didn’t look convinced. “You should get going, though”.
“I mean it, though” he pushed it when he could tell you weren’t convinced. “You can go through the t—”
“Hyunie,” you cut him off, this time with a soft chuckle. “It’s okay. I believe you”.
Did you?
“But apparently there is a pregame taking place in a bit, so you should get going”.
“You don’t even know at what time it is” he pouted.
“It’s a little past seven right now,” you pointed out, checking the time in your phone. “I’m guessing at seven thirty? Eight at most?”
Looking down to the group chat with his friends and realising you were right, he only made his pout more prominent.
“Am I right?” You wondered with a teasing smirk.
“Yes…” he let out a defeated sigh.
When you laughed triumphantly, he leaned in to rest his forehead on your shoulder.
“I don’t wanna go yet” he mumbled.
“You have to if you wanna make it in time with your friends”.
“I can always just skip pregame” he suggested, then sitting up again and looking at you with a mischievous smile. “Or skip night out as a whole”.
“Yah, Hwang Hyunjin” you scolded him. “You are not pulling a New Year’s Eve stunt on me again”.
“A New Year’s Eve stunt?” He wondered rather amusedly.
“You know, when you said you’d only stay with me until midnight and then ended up not going back to your friends that night” you explained.
“This is different, though. We had plans before”.
“Staying on the couch watching movies with me can’t even compete with going out with your friends”.
“No, you’re right” he nodded. “It can’t compete because staying in with you would win every time”.
“Hyunjin…” you tried your best to sound stern and not melt over his words. “Go”.
“But…”
“I’m not letting you skip yet another night out with your friends because of me”.
“Come with me then?” He asked with puppy eyes.
You were quick to look away, knowing well enough you would fall for his charms otherwise. “I’ll have to pass this time”.
“Is it because of Dahye?” He carefully wondered, taking your following silence as a yes. “We can skip pregame and then I’ll tell my friends to make up some excuse for her not to join us at noraebang”.
“Hyunjin,” you couldn’t help but chuckle. “You don’t have to do that, just go have fun with them”.
“But I wanna be with you” he pouted once more.
“Hyunie…” it sounded like you were begging by now. “The movie’s about to end anyway”.
“And we were supposed to watch another once once it did” he reminded you, later allowing a taunting smirk to curve up his lips when a certain idea made it to his head. “Are you so set on making me leave right now because you’re afraid you might not want me to leave at all if I stay any longer?”
You snorted, playfully yet gently poking his forehead. “Someone’s gotten a little too cocky, don’t you think?”
“Am I wrong, though?” He pushed it. “Do you really want me to go?”
“Hm?”
“Do you want me to go?” He repeated.
“Your friends—”
“That’s not what I’m asking you” he cut you off. “You have this really bad habit of always avoiding my questions, you know?”
You found yourself lowering your head, feeling oh-so-little under his piercing stare.
Although Hyunjin loved seeing you nervous because of him and it was a very rare occurrence coming from you, right then, he wanted your eyes on him. So, placing two fingers under your chin, he tilted your head back to his eye level — both of you only realising how close you actually were when your eyes met.
“It’s a simple yes or no question” he specified, gently removing a strand of hair from your face. “Do you want me to go?”
“No” you answered truthfully this time.
He smiled brightly.
“But—BUT,” you emphasized before he could celebrate, leaning slightly back and lifting your index finger for him to pay attention. “Like I said, I’m not letting you bail on your friends again, there will come a time they’ll get tired of it. You deserve to let loose and have some fun only with them”.
“But we were supposed to hang out today…”
“And we did?”
He frowned, clearly not happy with your answer.
“Come onnn,” you tried your best to convince him. “We’ll hang out again tomorrow anyway”.
“We will?” He perked up instantly, enough to make you feel shy all over again.
“I mean, if you want to, of course…” you corrected yourself. You had really become that used to seeing him both days every weekend now for it to be more of a given, huh?
“I believe it’s pretty clear by now that I always want to hang out with you”.
You tried to hold back a smile — needless to say, your efforts were miserable. “Okay then, we’ll see each other tomorrow”.
“Okay,” he smiled, satisfied with your new plans. “Let’s go out this time, since staying in is too boring for you now”.
“When did I ever say that?!”
“When you said that this,” he motioned around your place. “Wasn’t competition for a night out”.
“That is so not what I meant?” You argued.
“Still,” he laughed, eyes softening when they locked with yours. “I’m taking you out for lunch, okay?”
You smiled timidly, nodding your head. “Let’s see if you’re not too hungover first. Might have to end up taking care of you instead”.
“Now I might get blackout drunk just to have you taking care of me tomorrow”.
You shook your head in disbelief, unable to hide your amusement as you looked away. “Never mind, I will be sending either Yeji or your mum instead”.
“I’m joking, I’m joking” he laughed, looking for your eyes to lock with his again and gently grabbing your hands that were resting on your lap. “I’ll behave. Just let me take you out for lunch tomorrow, hm? Just us two”.
Staring down at your hands in his warm, soft ones, you couldn’t help but get invaded with more questions than answers.
It felt nice… being touched by him felt nice. Being close to him as a whole made you feel all warm inside. And he was right when he joked about you being scared you wouldn’t want him to leave at all if he stayed any longer, because truth was you already didn’t. You wanted him to stay, as close as you were minutes before.
Was it okay for you to be this close? Both physically and also emotionally? To the point of talking every single day and finding a way to see each other more than you saw your own best friends?
Did you enjoy his touch so much because it came from him? Or was it because you missed being touched?
Was he like this with everyone else? With Dahye? Anyone else at all? Did he treat you differently from them? Or was he just a flirty person and what you were now considering to be some kind of special treatment was just him acting the same as he did with every other girl?
Were you beginning to fall for him? Had you really been that oblivious to your own feelings? Or were you just looking too much into it now because of Chan’s influence, and mistaking a platonic —and rather strong— connection for something more?
Would Yeji be okay with it?
Too many questions were invading your mind, one right after the other, and you couldn’t find a single answer to any of them just yet.
However, although you didn’t know what you were feeling and were unsure about what demons were from your past and which ones were new, you did know one thing for sure: You were never as happy as when you were with him.
So, with a soft smile and a nod of your head, pushing any other thought for later tonight when you went to bed, you said the only thing you could answer to his request right then. “Okay”.
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Dark but Just a Game
pairing: (pre-ellie) joel miller x afab!fem!reader
summary: your dad’s associate and friend, joel miller, finally tires of your constant teasing
warnings: rough sex/smut (fingering, fem penetration, unprotected sex) so 18+ only content; fem afab reader; mention of reader having long-ish hair; alcohol consumption & drunkenness; pet names (sweetheart, angel, baby); dubcon (intoxication, power imbalance); age gap.
beta reader: @millllenniawrites aka that’s bestfren
word count: 3.7k
no use of y/n in this fic.
Click to read part 2: Pretty When You Cry
Click to read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman
ahhhh this is my first time writing for joel so any and all feedback is super appreciated. i was slightly inspired by the amazing dbf!joel drabbles that @anchoeritic writes (seriously, if you enjoy this fic, go read them). as always, my requests are open !!
—
THEN,
It started out so innocently.
Your dad often helped Tess and Joel smuggle contraband in and out of the QZ, sometimes by keeping the right people quiet, other times by offering the pair a place to lay low at. You got accustomed to the sight of them passed out on the floor, the glow of the sunrise illuminating only their sleeping faces, or else a murmuring trio of hushed voices in the middle of the night.
Soon, however, you began to notice the way Joel’s eyes seemed to trail on you, often catching his hardened gaze in yours. Still, he rarely spoke to you and when he did, he mostly just grunted a “hullo” or asked if your father was around.
But you suspected that he noticed you.
Especially when your old clothes got too tight, hugging your skin and leaving little to the imagination. You observed his breath hitching the very first time he saw you in a skirt.
So, naturally, you played into it. You started sneaking downstairs in the morning wearing only a t-shirt and your underwear, feigning innocence at the way (you imagined) he tried, hard, not to look at your ass as you sauntered back up to your room.
Sometimes, you bumped into him on the streets of the QZ. You’d loop your arm around his broad bicep, wide-eyed, gazing up at him through your eyelashes and asking why he hadn’t dropped by to say hello recently. Causing him to tense beneath your hands always felt electrifying; the restraint in his grumbled “soon” always felt like a victory.
When it was dark out and he, Tess, and your dad shared a drink together on the dusty-old-living-room-couch, you made sure to lock eyes with him, taking in the danger lurking in them. He’d look away, leaning back casually and adjusting his jeans.
But—it was always innocent.
It was a game you played with yourself; one you weren’t even sure he was in on. Life in the QZ got dull, and there were only so many good-looking men your age that your dad’s work allowed you to see.
Sometimes, when business was good, your old man got his hands on an extra shipment of liquor, inviting all of his favourite bandits in the Zone and throwing a “party” in one of the run-down, less monitored buildings. You did yourself up as best as you knew how to, shared a flask with your friends and flirted with young smugglers.
It was seedy, but it was fun.
Joel was always there, usually asking around for parts or looking to cut deals. Usually, he drank and stayed out of your way.
Once, however, after being extremely irresponsible with your consumption, you found yourself alone with Andy, a young FEDRA guard (working for your side, of course), slurring your words and stumbling on your feet. He was good-looking in a boyish way and handsy to high heavens. You vaguely remembered his insistence on taking you back to his place and the feel of his wet lips against yours. You clearly remembered hearing a gruff, “Get off,”—Joel’s baritone echo taking you both by surprise. Andy’s head swung to find Miller’s looming form in the doorway; he immediately tore his hands from your body and scampered off. You were alone with Joel, his expression a mask of rage and contempt tinged with—could it have been—jealousy?
After that, it was all bits and pieces of blurred images and sounds. Big hands pulled you into strong arms; your feet were lifted from the ground. You retained flashes of drunken faces smiling and jeering at you as you were carried away from the festivities—then it was dilapidated hallways, the jangling of keys fumbling with a lock, and finally, the ceiling above your bed as Joel gently set you down. Even now, you could clearly picture the way his eyes traveled along your exposed skin as he stood, arms crossed, at the edge of the bed.
Sitting up, fixing your drunken, playful eyes to look deeply into his, you slurred, “Got a bit jealous?”
He said nothing. He only held your gaze and crossed his arms, the muscles beneath flexing and relaxing in rhythm with the motion.
“C’mon Joel,” you teased him, “so serious, all the time. I was fine.”
Now that had an effect.
He growled, “one more minute with that asshole…” and shook his head, his words trailing off as he fought the urge to take your bait. “Just go to sleep. You’ll thank me in the morning.”
He turned, heading towards the door. Perhaps the excess liquor made you reckless or Andy’s kisses left you wanting—either way, you needed to push the limits with Joel. You needed him to stay, to turn around and play your game.
“I could thank you now, if you want.”
He stopped in his tracks, his head slowly turning to the side. Your blood burned in your veins, both from the alcohol and from the tension pulsing between you and him in that darkened room. He paused for a moment and it felt like a lifetime—laid on the bed, watching his shoulders move with every breath he took. He flexed a hand, something he often did when he was around you.
Finally, he spoke.
“Go to sleep.”
And with that, he shut off the light and left the room, closing the door behind him.
So, you decided it was probably all in your head. Maybe the looks and the tension and the teasing were just part of a one-sided game you played with yourself. Still, you couldn’t help thinking about the strain in his voice when he ordered you to bed or the anger that went beyond disdain and contempt at the sight of Andy’s hands exploring your body. You regularly reminisced about the events of that night, most often without meaning to. Most often alone, between the hours of one and three AM, sneaking a guilty hand down between your thighs.
That was the last time Joel had interacted with you.
At least before tonight.
—
NOW,
Joel stands between Tess and a seedy looking short guy you’ve never seen before, clearly not paying attention to whatever the two of them are hashing out. Tensions are low, which makes Joel look comically out of place. He lifts a silver flask to his lips.
The chatter of people talking and laughing fills the narrow, dusty space—from somewhere down the hall, you hear your father’s booming laugh. You’re finding it increasingly hard to concentrate on whatever your peers are gushing on about. The warmth in your stomach and the buzz under your skin from whatever liquor finds its way into your cup brings you back to the last time you’d seen Joel at one of these get-togethers.
“Can’t believe Miller comes to these things,” one such peer—a bandit in training, your good friend Emma—remarks. “Weird seeing him… well, not relaxed but… not stressed.”
You laugh. “I know, right. When he’s passed out, I don’t even recognize him. Looks completely different without his signature scowl.”
She turns away from him, focusing her attention instead on you. “Right,” she says, “I forgot him and your dad…” She trails off, her expression changing as her interests do, as well.
Emma suddenly smirks at you. “Does he sleep naked?” she asks, mischievous. This piques the interest of the others paying attention to your conversation, who subsequently tune in to hear your answer.
You smile, shaking your head. “No,” you respond, keeping your voice low. “Fully clothed—with his gun in hand.”
Emma’s eyes settle back on Joel as her smile fades. The other delinquents go back to their respective conversations. “Such a shame,” she says, wistfully. “I’d bet a month’s rations that his dick is huge.”
You giggle at that and she passes you the flask. You take a big swig, heat blooming across your tongue as the whiskey burns down your throat.
He catches you staring—his eyes darken when he notices the drink in your hand. Smiling innocuously at him, you wave your fingers in an extremely girlish greeting gesture. He raises his thick eyebrows, unimpressed.
A familiar figure interrupts your silent conversation.
“Hey,” Andy says, his voice unsure and subdued.
“Hey.”
He looks rumpled and flushed, as though recent weeks had not been kind to him. Andy’s not-brown-not-blonde hair hangs limp around his crown, mirroring the defeated air his stature gives off. Despite the near foot he has on you, he seems ironically small.
He runs a nervous hand through his hair. “Look,” he tries, awkwardly stuffing his fingers in his pockets, “I’m sorry about last time. I was really drunk and I don’t really remember what I said, but I know it wasn’t cool.”
You scoff. “I don’t really think it was so much what you said, Andy,” you respond playfully. After all, you know he meant no harm. Drunk people get horny, and you had both been very drunk. “Don’t worry about it. No hard feelings,” you add.
That’s when, from over Andy’s shoulder, you catch a glimpse of Joel’s expression. Pure disapproval. Cold, ruthless contempt burns in his eyes.
“At least not from me.”
Andy turns around slowly, following your eye-line. By the time he clues in to who you’re referring to, Joel’s already looked away, turning his attention to the still-ongoing conversation between Tess and the stranger.
“Right,” Andy says, wincing. “He’s been giving me a hard time on the streets.”
“Don’t sweat over Miller,” Emma interjects casually. “He gives everyone a hard time.”
Once again, you find yourself distracted from the conversation, focussing on a different man in the room. Why should he get to decide when you get to be wild? What business does he have protecting you from other guys? After all, Joel Miller is not your father.
It frustrates you that he keeps pretending not to notice your stare. It frustrates you that he keeps his head ducked, feigning interest in the deal being made beside him. Taking in his size, the salt-and-pepper of his hair, and the fierce angle of his jaw, you steal another swig from the flask, wiping the excess off your lips.
It emboldens you.
Leaning up on your tippy-toes, you muster up your most sensual tone, whispering softly in Andy’s ear: “Let me make it up to you.”
You pull back to catch his look of disbelief, his pouty pink lips parting slightly as he struggles to locate his words. Grabbing his hand in yours, you nod your head to the right, wordlessly encouraging him to take you down the hall. He obeys without a sound.
You quickly shove the flask back into Emma’s hand.
“Save some for after,” you plead, and she shakes her head, tossing you an exaggerated eye-roll.
You lock eyes with Joel momentarily before you’re pulled down the hall, satisfaction leaking from your gaze—you’re not quite sure why. You break away, ignoring the non-verbal warning in his stare.
Who cares what he thinks, anyways?
You wind up in a run-down, dim-lit room, empty save for an old desk. Andy pins you against the wall as soon as the door creaks to a close behind you, pressing his lips to yours in a sloppy, tipsy kiss. His hands travel south to grab your ass and you respond by wrapping your arms around his neck. Things heat up—his clumsy fingers brush the fabric over your breasts and you dig your hip into the bulge beneath his denim.
It’s not that you want Andy. Frankly? It could be anyone. None of the boys you hang out with really interest you beyond being potential partners for youthful experimentation—which is exactly what Andy is to you. In all likelihood, that’s not what you are to him.
Oh well. Those are morning thoughts.
Andy’s hands snake under your shirt, the pads of his fingertips creeping up to your breasts.
The door slams open.
Andy basically leaps off of you, a horrified expression settling on his features as he registers the identity of the intruder—as history repeats itself.
“Out,” Joel orders through gritted teeth, holding the door open for the boy to walk through. Andy practically sprints free—without risking a goodbye, without uttering a “sir, yes sir.”
You sigh once you and Joel are alone, adjusting your clothing and casually leaning back against the wall.
“Okay, Joel,” you say, exasperation coating your words. “What’s this all about.”
Wordlessly, he closes the door and locks the handle. His movements are slow, precise, and calculated—butterflies erupt in your stomach.
He approaches you, leaning one hand against the wall behind your head and using a pair of thick, callused fingers to tilt your head up. He smells like sandalwood and hard liquor; he smells like a man. Electricity crackles throughout your entire being.
The touch of his hand on your face drains every last drop of your boldness.
“I think,” he grumbles out, his voice low, gravelly, dangerous, “You know exactly what this is about.”
You swallow, focussing all your energy on holding his severe gaze. Between your thighs, your nerves begin to pulse, responding to his proximity with enthusiasm.
“No, I really don’t,” you respond, mustering up some confidence from god-knows-where to render your tone convincing.
He scowls. “S’lil’ game you’re playin’,” he mutters softly, coolly. “Comin’ downstairs half-naked, clingin’ onto me in public when you know I can’t do anything…”
He shakes his head, his grip on your jaw tensing slightly.
This time, when he speaks, his tone is hoarse. “What are you tryin’ to get out of it?”
A smile creeps onto your face at the anguish in his voice.
So you hadn’t imagined it. Joel had been in on it from the start.
You look up at him with big, sultry eyes, taunting him. There’s no point in avoiding the truth anymore—you want joel. And you’ve never really been the type to not go for what you want.
In this moment, you’re willing to risk anything to have Joel do something, anything to you.
Wicked innocence drips off your every word as you purr, “Whatever you’ve been dying to give me, Joel.”
You watch your answer take effect. A vein in his jaw twitches—lust floods his eyes.
In a flash, you’re facing the wall with both hands pinned above your head by one much larger, much stronger hand. Joel’s weight presses against you, pinning you in place.
“That right, angel?” Joel challenges under his breath as his other hand explores your chest, grabbing roughly at your breasts. “Want me to show you what I’ve had in mind?”
His hand travels towards your underwear, sliding down your front in a tantalizing motion; you moan before his fingers even brush your most sensitive spot.
“I do, Joel,” you moan, desperate for his touch. The feel of his chest against your spine is intoxicating, your mind goes blank at the sensation of his cock pressed against your ass.
Joel’s index and middle fingers find your clit, rubbing torturous circles around the throbbing bud. His thumb presses into your skin, anchoring his hand in place.
“So fuckin’ wet,” he groans. “Wonder what your dad’d say if he knew his lil’ girl was soakin’ wet for this cock.”
He slips a finger inside you, curling it up, making your mouth gape open in a silent ah and your eyebrows crease together. “You think of me when you’re touchin’ this pretty pussy?” Gasping and struggling against his hold, you nod enthusiastically, overwhelmed by the feel of him inside you.
“Please,” you whisper, wanting more, more, more.
“Manners,” he growls, tightening his grasp on your wrists. “Please, Joel,” he corrects, pumping his fingers in and out of your cunt, his palm flattened and working against your swollen clit.
“Please-please, Joel,” you gasp out, throwing your head back against the crook of his shoulder. He leans forward, laying a soft kiss in the delicate nook of your neck. Then, he’s releasing you, pulling his fingers out and taking a step back.
He gestures to the desk.
“Facedown, sweetheart.”
You obey, stumbling over to it and laying your chest against the cold wood. It stings and you shiver.
Joel fumbles with his belt and then he’s behind you, unzipping his fly and pulling his length out. With your cheek laid against the desk, you get a perfect view of him towering over you, a dark God, holding his cock in his hand.
Emma had been right.
“You gotta be quiet,” he warns, before flipping up your skirt. He groans at the sight of your ass, roughly grabbing one cheek and squeezing it—hard.
“I will be,” you whine, desperate to take him in.
He chuckles, pulling down your dripping panties, letting them fall to your ankles. His tip runs between your folds, teasing your clit in tormenting strokes. You whine and moan, “Joel-s’good,” responding to every brush of his tip.
“You’re needy,” he says, gruffly.
He pushes his cock deep into your cunt, settling every inch of himself inside you.
“I like needy.”
You gasp at the sting and the pleasure and the fullness, unable to control yourself. Joel is huge—your walls wrap tightly around him as he pulls out near-completely before snapping his hips against your ass, filling you up to the brim again. You cry out as he holds your arms in place, setting a rhythm, grabbing you just as roughly as he fucks you.
“Joel,” you moan loudly before a large hand slaps over your lips.
“Shut up,” he growls.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you give yourself to him entirely, cravenly grinding against his hips.
“Look at you, fuckin’ yourself on my cock,” he taunts. “Takin’ it so good, pretty girl.”
The sound of flesh hitting flesh echoes through the room, dirty and filthy and hot.
Joel’s fingers muffle your moans of abandonment, every “fuck,” “yes,” and “thank you,” coming out simply as “mmm.”
“This what you fuckin’ wanted?” he asks gruffly, leaning a hand next to your head and bending forward to loom over you. “Gettin’ fucked by a man twice your age?”
The angle allows him to push even more of his length inside you, causing you to squirm pathetically against his hips. His fingers dig into your cheeks as he adds, “That right, pretty girl?”
You nod eagerly, your eyes growing heavy, filling with abandon.
He looses a hollow laugh. “Needy lil’ thing,” he breathes, tangling his fingers in your hair. “With a needy lil’ pussy.”
Freeing your mouth, he throws his head back, straightening out and bringing both hands to your circle your waist. Now, he fucks you fast and brutally, his breath coming heavy and hard. With every stroke, Joel’s tip grazes your inner most sensitive spot, causing sheer ecstasy to radiate throughout your core.
“Come inside me, Joel,” you beg. “Come in me—please.”
Joel groans sinfully. “Can’t do that, sweetheart.”
Fluttering waves ripple from your cunt down your legs, threatening to take you over the edge.
“Joel,” you half-sob, “I’m gonna-”
He slows down, thrusting into you in great, harsh strokes, well-versed in the art of bringing a woman to climax. You cry out as your orgasm tears through you, unable to form words or thoughts or anything beyond “Joel,” “Ohmygod,” and “yes-yes-yes.”
“S’it baby,” he coaxes. “Come aaalll over my cock.”
Your walls clench around him, your pussy just as desperate as you are to keep him tucked inside you.
He exhales shakily, grabbing fistfuls of your ass in his hands.
“Fuck it,” he groans, thrusting faster inside you. “M’gonna fill you up.” Your eyes are still rolled to the back of your head, your hands desperately searching for something to grasp onto. His cock swells inside you, tensing up between your walls as his seed spills out between them—he comes with an “oh fuck” and a final, brutal stroke.
You lie still for a moment, listening to the sound of your ragged breathing harmonizing with Joel’s. He runs a massive hand along your arm, his touch suddenly delicate, revering.
“You’d better fuckin’ pray I can find the pill for you tomorrow,” he says finally, his husky voice both amazed and amused.
Lifting your chest off the table, you slowly flip around, perching on the edge to face him as he reorganizes his clothes, pulling his boxers up and tugging at his fly. He looks so handsome between your knees, with his hair slightly disheveled and his shirt all rumpled.
“Get extra,” you coo, your breath still uneven, your thoughts still bungled. You run a slight hand devotedly down his plaid shirt, marvelling at the pleasure the proximity brings you.
He laughs low, shaking his head. “S’was a one-time deal, angel,” he says with a smile. He finishes doing up his belt and leans both his hands on the table, his nose just centimeters away from your own. “Can’t be caught fuckin’ my associates’ daughters—bad for business,” he adds, pulling your underwear back up your thighs. You adjust yourself and pout at him, playfully.
“You didn’t like it?” you ask, pretend-innocence soaking your tone.
He smiles softly. “I liked it too much,” he responds. “S’why it can’t happen again.”
You raise your eyebrows defiantly. “Well, I’m not gonna make it easy on you, Miller.”
He slowly straightens up, offering you a hand as you scoot off the desk. Your legs feel shaky, but his hold anchors you in place.
“M’countin’ on that.”
With that said, he gestures for you to leave the room, following closely behind you. He opens the door and you peer into the hallway, making note of its emptiness before stepping out. Joel exits soon after, taking off in the opposite direction. You catch him looking back at you, a dazed, hungry look still lingering on his expression.
It makes you smile.
Later that night, you find Emma and Joel finds Tess. You’re back to your side of the divide and he’s back to his.
It’s as though nothing ever happened.
“Hey, check it out,” Emma remarks. “Miller actually looks, like, chilled-out,” she slurs loudly.
You smile knowingly, nodding in agreement.
“‘Guess he found a way to blow off steam.”
She gives you a quick, faded nod before becoming absorbed in something else. It doesn’t bother you. You’re also absorbed in something else: lost in thought, consumed by the lingering echoes and traces of Joel’s skin on yours.
When you catch his eye from across the room, you can tell that his thoughts are haunted by the very same thing.
This was no longer an innocent game.
It was a dirty secret.
—
Read part 2: Pretty When You Cry
Read part 3: Let Me Love You Like a Woman (Let Me Hold You Like a Baby)
#joel miller x reader#joel miller smut#joel miller x female reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller#joel miller the last of us#joel miller tlou#the last of us#tlou x reader#tlou fanfiction#Joel miller fanfiction#joel tlou#joel the last of us#joel x reader#pedro pascal#Pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal smut#dbf!joel miller#dbf!joel miller x reader#dbf!joel miller x you#dbf!joel#the last of us smut#the last of us fanfiction#the last of us fic#tlou smut#tlou show#dark but just a game series
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Come Home To Us
Pairing - Tim Bradford x reader
Word count - 4,748
Warnings - angst, inaccurate hospital/police scenes, mentions of suicide, viruses, brief mention of Tim's father, swearing, mentions of Tim getting shot
Summary - Tim liked to keep his personal and work life separate, although a certain event was about to change that
A/N - hey y'all this was an anon request that was an honour to write and I will forever push the girl dad Tim agenda I'm not sorry in the slightest. anyways I won't ramble but as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback, and enjoy!!!
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Most of the Mid-Wilshire Police Department only knew Tim Bradford as the hard-ass training officer who never cracked a smile. They would see someone who had the toughest exterior known to man and assumed he was the same outside of work. But in actuality, Tim had a secret that very few knew about. And that secret was about to come out.
“Good morning, Tim.” Your sweet voice says softly as Tim blinks his eyes open, a smile coming to his face as his eyes lock with yours.
“Good morning, Baby,” Tim replies, instantly reaching across to wrap an arm around your waist, tugging you close so he can press a soft kiss to your lips as you giggle.
“You’re up earlier than usual.” Tim then muses with a light laugh as he notices the time on the clock behind you, knowing you always woke up after his alarm went off.
“Your daughter wanted a glass of water and who am I to deny her what she wants?” You reply, curling into Tim as he presses a kiss to the top of your head.
“My daughter?” Tim asks, an amused tone to his voice, pulling away enough to be able to look down at you.
“She wakes up at the crack of dawn most mornings. She gets that from you.” You laugh, watching as Tim lets out a gentle laugh before giving you another soft kiss.
“Momma! Daddy!” You glance over your shoulder to see your little girl Mia rushing into your room, and you open up your arms to catch her when she launches herself onto yours and Tim’s shared bed.
“Good morning, Sweetheart.” Tim greets Mia with a smile as she clambers from your embrace to Tim’s, giggling as he peppers her face with kisses. You couldn’t help but smile as you watched Tim and Mia interact. You remembered how in your early stages of pregnancy, Tim had been terrified, he was scared he was going to end up like his own father or that something would happen to him and leave you alone with a baby to take care of. But the moment Mia was born and he held her in his arms for the first time, Tim knew that he would go through hell and back to protect his little girl. He wanted to give her the whole world and more. You saw how Tim took to being Mia’s dad easily, he loved her like it was breathing and he made sure he was a present parent in her life.
“Can I have breakfast, please?” Mia asks, looking between you and Tim with the puppy dog eyes that melted you both down in seconds.
“Let’s get you ready for preschool first, then we’ll make breakfast,” Tim says, scooping Mia up into his arms, and sitting her on his hip as he gets out of bed. As he takes Mia back to her room to get her ready for the day, you get up and begin to change yourself, readying yourself for the day before heading out to the kitchen to begin making breakfast.
“Momma! Daddy said I could help make breakfast!” Mia comes hurtling into the kitchen, excitedly looking up at you as you laugh.
“Of course, you can help, Sweetie. What would you like for breakfast?” You ask, finding the little stepstool so that Mia can reach the kitchen counter to assist you in making breakfast.
“Cereal please.” She requests as you nod, already handing her one of her favourite princess bowls. Mia reaches up to the cupboard you kept the cereal in while you watched carefully. Mia was only five years old but she was already growing in her independence, and you knew she got that from Tim. Despite that, she was the sweetest little soul who loved and cared for everyone around her and you couldn’t be prouder to have her as your daughter.
“You got it, Sweetie? Do you want me to grab you the milk?” You ask softly, resting your hand on Mia’s back as you watch her carefully pour some cereal into the bowl, her tongue poking out of the corner of her mouth in her concentration.
“Yes please, Momma,” Mia asks, satisfied with the amount of cereal she’s put in the bowl as she carefully places the box down. You press a soft kiss to the top of Mia’s head before heading over to the fridge to grab the milk for her as Tim enters the kitchen, smiling at you both and now dressed for the day.
“How’s breakfast making going?” Tim asks, crossing to you and capturing your lips in a soft kiss before letting you give the milk to Mia.
“You’re getting soft, you know?” You say with a laugh, thinking about the way Tim used to be when you first met him.
“Only for my family,” Tim says, hovering near Mia to supervise as she tries to pour the milk herself, eventually placing his hand on the carton and giving Mia a helping hand.
“I forget work doesn’t get the same privileges as us.” You tease, beginning to prep both your and Tim’s morning coffees, putting them into their respective travel mugs before making Mia’s packed lunch and filling a bottle with water for her.
As Mia eats her breakfast, Tim makes breakfast for you and him while you pack Mia’s bag with everything she’ll need for the day. You then join Tim and Mia at the table to eat your breakfast before noting the time when you’ve finished eating and tidied away.
“We should head out. Don’t want you to be late to preschool, do we?” You say, tickling Mia quickly, smiling as she squeals and squirms.
“Daddy, help!” Mia calls out for Tim to save her, making him scoop her up in his arms, holding her close as you laugh.
“I’ll protect you, Mia,” Tim says, holding her close as you roll your eyes jokingly.
“You can protect her by taking her to preschool, then.” You say, picking up Mia’s bag and holding it out towards Tim who takes it and slings the small strap over his shoulder.
“I can do that. Are you okay to collect her this afternoon?” Tim says, carrying Mia over to the shoe rack and helping her put her shoes on while you follow behind, grabbing your own work bag.
“Yeah, that’s perfectly fine.” You say, bending down as you gently brush Mia’s stray hair away from her face.
“Bye, Momma,” Mia says, throwing herself into your arms. You’re quick to hug her back, relishing the feeling of her clinging to you.
“Bye, Sweetie. I’ll see you this afternoon.” You whisper, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head before releasing her from the hug, straightening up to say goodbye to Tim.
“You’ll stay safe, won’t you? Come home to us?” You ask quietly so Mia doesn’t hear you.
“I always do. Nothing can stop me from coming home to you both.” Tim reassures you softly, placing his hands on your waist to pull you a little closer. He understood your fears, and he knew you’d been living with them for years. After Mia was born your worry only increased which made Tim all the more determined to get home to his family after every shift. And after the recent incident where Tim got shot, you worried about him even more.
“I love you.” You whisper softly just before Tim cups your face softly in his hands, pressing a kiss to your lips.
“I love you too.” He whispers after pulling away from the embrace, smiling down at you softly to reassure you that little bit more.
“Daddy, come on we need to go!” Mia’s little voice snaps you back to reality as she tugs on Tim’s jacket, making you both laugh.
“Okay, okay, you have a point. Let’s get going, Princess.” Tim says, taking Mia’s little hand in one hand while grabbing both his bag and hers with the other before heading out of the front door to take Mia to preschool and then head to work. A few minutes after Tim leaves, you grab your keys and bag then head out to your car so you can make your way to work. You worked at the local high school so you knew your day was going to be busy as you began the drive to work.
As you arrived at work you greeted your colleagues as you passed them in the corridors, making your way to your classroom, heading over to your desk and placing everything down so you can get on with your morning tasks. You spend time prepping your classes and making sure you’re ready for the day before your students begin to file into the room, all of them greeting you with a smile as they cross to their desks and settle in their seats.
The day progressed like any other, nothing you weren’t used to working in a high school. You taught your classes and caught up with your coworkers during lunch. Until your phone rang with an unknown number. Instantly filled with dread and assuming the worst, you excused yourself from your coworkers and accepted the call, walking to a quiet corner of the staff lounge.
“Hello?” You say into the phone, your throat drying up in anticipation of any bad news.
“Hello, is this Mrs. Bradford?” A nervous female voice asks.
“Yes, it is. Who am I speaking to?” You confirm before asking the woman on the other end of the line for her name.
“I’m Officer Lucy Chen. I’m Officer Bradford’s rookie.” Lucy introduced herself, pacing anxiously back and forth in front of the door she knew Tim was behind. You recognised Lucy’s name quickly as you recalled Tim talking about her.
“Is Tim okay?” Your voice was shaky as tears threatened to well up in your eyes. You knew Tim didn’t open up about his personal life to anyone at work outside of Angela and Wade so the fact he told his rookie about you was ringing alarm bells in your head.
“He- you know I’ll just let him tell you himself,” Lucy says, placing the phone by the gap under the door and putting you on speaker.
“Tim?” Your voice came through to the other room, making Tim perk up the slightest bit at hearing your voice.
“y/n?” Tim replies, making you let out a slight sigh of relief from hearing his voice, even if it was partially muffled.
“Tim, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” You ask, your fear evident in your voice as Tim leans his head back, resting it against the door.
“There’s been an incident. I don’t know if I’ll make it home tonight.” Tim says, trying to find the words to describe what’s going on without panicking you further.
“Tim, talk to me. What’s happened?” You plead, desperate for answers.
“Don’t tell anyone at work about this. But we found out there’s a group wanting to disperse a virus within the city. We tracked one of the weapons to this house after a guy picked it up by accident and he got sick and… he coughed on me. I’m quarantining in this room while we wait for the CDC but if I start showing any signs of the virus, I want to go out on my own terms. I don’t want to go through what I just saw this guy go through. I owe it to you to tell you that.” Tim says, and you feel a tear slip down your cheek at his words.
“No. You’ll be okay. You’re going to come home.” You say, lifting your free hand to wipe your tears away before anyone notices.
“But I might not. And I want you to be prepared for that outcome. Just promise me you’ll give Mia a hug from me and tell her I love her so much.” Tim says, fighting back the building tears at the thought of not seeing you or Mia again.
“You’ll tell her that yourself. Just hold on. You’ll be okay.” You beg, hoping that by some miracle the CDC will enter the room Tim is in and save him.
“I love you so much,” Tim murmurs softly.
“I love you too.” You whisper quietly in response.
“You go back to work, okay? I’ll have someone call you no matter what happens. I promise.” Tim says, and as much as you wanted to tell him no, to tell him that you wanted to come and sit with him and be by his side when he needed you. But you understood that he wanted you to keep busy, and for you to try not to worry about him too much, although that ship had already sailed.
“Okay. I love you.” You say, hearing Tim’s whispered response before you hang up the phone, wondering how you are going to get through the rest of the day with these thoughts in your head. You were thankful that after lunch you had a free period so you didn’t have to worry about teaching any classes and could focus on grading papers and making new lesson plans to get a head start. As you worked, you found your gaze being drawn towards the framed picture you have on your desk of you, Tim, and Mia. All you could do was hope that Tim would be okay, you had no idea how you’d tell Mia if anything happened to Tim. Mia was the biggest daddy’s girl and you knew it would crush her if you had to look her in the eye and tell her that her daddy wasn’t coming home.
“Please be okay, Tim.” You whisper, hoping that by some miracle, someone will hear your whisper and be able to save Tim. Halfway through your free period, your phone buzzed once more and this time you saw Angela’s name displayed across your phone screen and you scooped your phone up instantly, answering the call.
“Angela, please tell me he’s okay.” You plead, pacing your classroom anxiously as you wait for Angela to respond.
“He’s on his way to the hospital. The CDC got there and administered the vaccine but as he was leaving the house he passed out. He’s going to Shaw Memorial.” Angela explains as Jackson drives them to the hospital.
“I’m getting Mia and I’m coming to the hospital.” You say, shoving everything in your bag with little to no consideration for anything else but getting to Shaw Memorial.
“I’ll be waiting for you both,” Angela says with a nod, ignoring Jackson’s confused glances, bidding you goodbye before hanging up the phone.
After ending the call, you finish packing your bag and immediately make a beeline for the principal's office, knocking and entering with permission.
“Ah, y/n, what can I do for you?” He says with a friendly smile which falters when he notices your worried expression and the bag on your shoulder.
“Something’s happened with my husband. He’s in the hospital and I need to go and see him. I have lesson plans all written up in my desk so a substitute can step in I just need to go and see Tim.” You explain, trying not to sound too flustered but you also knew you were failing miserably.
“Of course, you can go. We should have someone available, I’ll track them down before the next period. You’re free to go. I hope everything is okay.” He says softly, holding up a hand to calm you down. When you process his words, you let out a small sigh of relief, your shoulders sagging in relief.
“Thank you so much, Paul.” You thank him gratefully, beginning to back away towards the door before saying a quick goodbye and rushing out to your car. You waste no time driving over to the preschool Mia is at, soon pulling up outside and heading into the reception.
“Mrs. Bradford, how can I help you?” The receptionist, Poppy greets you as you enter the room, her normal smile plastered on her face.
“I would like to pick Mia up early, please.” You say as you reach the front desk, bracing your hands on the desk.
“Is everything okay?” Poppy asks, picking up on your worried expression instantly.
“Tim’s in the hospital.” You say quietly and Poppy’s eyes widen slightly, making her nod as she gets up from her seat.
“I’ll go and get her.” She says quickly, excusing herself and heading off to find Mia and bring her to you. Poppy was only gone for about five minutes and soon returned with Mia skipping along by her side.
“Momma!” Mia exclaims happily, rushing into your outstretched arms as you crouch down to catch her in your arms.
“Hi, Sweetie.” You greet her, trying not to let your voice wobble with emotion as you straighten up, taking her hand in yours and taking her bag from her with your spare hand as you thank Poppy before walking Mia out to your car, helping her into her car seat and buckling her in.
“Where are we going, Momma?” Mia asks, her voice filled with innocence as she watches you carefully. And as much as you wanted to protect her, you knew you couldn’t lie to her.
“Daddy’s in the hospital so we need to go and make sure he’s okay.” You explain, brushing some baby hairs away from her face as she frowns, eyebrows furrowing as she puts everything together in her head.
“Daddy’s hurt?” She asks quietly, making you realise she was thinking of when Tim was last hurt on the job.
“I’m not sure, Sweetie. The doctors will tell me what’s happened when we get there and then we can check on him.” You say softly, leaning forward to press a gentle kiss to the top of her head before you get behind the wheel, driving to the hospital. When you find a place to park, you help Mia out of the car, walking alongside her hand in hand while you call Angela, letting her know where you’re entering the hospital so she can meet you. It took you less than five minutes to locate Angela.
“Auntie Angie!” Mia calls out, rushing over to Angela who scoops Mia up in her arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
“Hey, Mia.” Angela greets you with a smile before looking over at you.
“How is he?” You ask quietly, watching Angela’s reaction carefully.
“He seems to be okay. He woke up before they got him into the hospital. He actually helped one of our rookies out of a tough spot. The doctors are waiting for you, I’ll keep an eye on Mia. I think you need some time alone with Tim first.” Angela says, causing you to let out a sigh of relief as you thank Angela quietly before crossing to the nurse's desk.
“Hello, I’ve been told my husband, Tim Bradford has been brought here. Can I see him?” You ask, watching as the nurse glances at you with a smile.
“Let me just get the doctor for you.” They say, paging the doctor who arrives in what feels like record time and quickly locates you still standing by the desk.
“Mrs. Bradford?” The doctor greets you softly, making you turn to face him with a smile and a nod.
“Yes. Is Tim okay?” You ask, desperate for answers.
“Your husband is okay. All his test results have come back clear and an allergic reaction to the vaccine caused his passing out.” The doctor explains, a smile on her face as you nod, happy tears coming to your eyes.
“Can I see him? Is that okay?” You ask, your fingers drifting to your wedding ring as you twist it nervously around your ring finger.
“Yes, you may. Follow me and I’ll take you to his room.” She says with a nod, turning and leading you to a room, stopping by the door and encouraging you to head in. After a deep breath, you open the door and head into the room.
“y/n.” Tim breathes out softly from where he is sitting on the hospital bed. You didn’t respond at first, instead striding across the room, sitting alongside Tim on the bed, grabbing his face in your hands and kissing him strongly. You had no words for how relieved you were to see Tim alive and well so all you could do in this moment was kiss him.
“You scared the shit out of me.” You whisper, pulling away enough to speak, your lips brushing up against his as your hands drop from Tim’s face to his shoulders.
“I’m sorry. I promise it was never my intention to scare you. I thought today was going to be an easy day at work.” Tim admits quietly, lifting a hand to cup your cheek in his hand and brush a thumb over the apple of your cheek softly.
“Last time you said that was after you got shot. Maybe you should stop assuming work’s going to be easy.” You weakly attempt to joke, pulling back a little more as Tim lets out a light chuckle, dropping his hand from your cheek, reaching up and taking one of your hands in his, rubbing his thumb across your knuckles rhythmically.
“Sounds like I should,” Tim says softly. There was then a slight lull in conversation as you thought of what Tim had said to you on the phone earlier.
“Did… did you mean what you said about going out on your own terms? Would you have really-” You cut yourself off, tears already stinging your eyes at the mere thought of Tim taking his own life.
“If you had seen what that virus did to a person, you’d understand why it was a serious consideration. I didn’t want to go through what I had just seen that guy Peter go through. That virus was horrible, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone.” Tim explains, his eyes never leaving yours for a second as you nod lightly.
“So, you don’t feel like that normally? It was only because you thought you were sick with that virus?” You ask, watching Tim’s expression carefully.
“I promise you I don’t ever have thoughts like that. I’ve never been happier with my life than I am now. You and Mia are my life and you both make me so unbelievably happy. I promise.” Tim says, squeezing your hand to exaggerate his point. At his words, you nod, lifting your free hand to wipe the threatening tears away.
“You’d tell me if you ever felt like that. Wouldn’t you?” You ask softly, watching as Tim nods.
“Of course,” Tim whispers. Part of you knew that Tim had a tendency to keep his struggles to himself, but since starting a relationship with you he had gotten better at opening up about things so you at least had some comfort in the knowledge that he was more likely to come to you about any problems. With everything now discussed, you looked at Tim with a soft smile before speaking.
“Would you like to see Mia? She’s with Angela in the waiting room.” You say, not missing how Tim’s eyes lit up at the mention of his daughter.
“She’s here?” He asks, watching as you nod with a smile.
“I’ll go and grab her now.” You say, standing up and pressing a quick kiss to the top of Tim’s head before exiting the room and heading back to the waiting room where you see Mia sitting on a chair as a female police officer stands behind the chair as she did Mia’s hair. You didn’t know who this officer was but judging by everyone’s smiles, she was a good one.
“Momma! Look! Lucy did my hair!” Mia exclaims excitedly, hopping off the chair and showing off the braids she now had in her hair and when you hear Mia name the police officer, you realise that she must be the one who called you earlier.
“It’s very pretty, Mia! Did you thank Lucy?” You ask, guiding Mia back towards the group of gathered police officers.
“Thank you, Lucy!” Mia chirps, rushing over to the rookie who smiles and shakes her head.
“No need to thank me. Mia’s a sweetheart.” Lucy at first says to Mia before looking up at you and directing her next sentence to you.
“Aw thank you. But in all seriousness, I should be thanking you for calling me about Tim in the first place.” You thank Lucy gratefully, feeling like you owe her so much.
“Tim asked me to call you for him. All I did was dial the number.” Lucy says in an attempt to downplay what she did.
“You still let me know about what happened. That means a lot.” You say, smiling at Lucy who nods with a shy smile of her own.
“I’d love to spend time chatting but I promised Tim I’d bring Mia to see him. But I would love to get to know you all properly at some point.” You say apologetically, taking Mia’s hand in your own and bidding the gathered officers a hurried goodbye before heading off in the direction of Tim’s hospital room. As they watch you leave, Nolan and Jackson move to stand by Lucy’s side.
“Tim had a whole secret family and no one knew but Angela?” Jackson asks, glancing over at his training officer who shrugs with a grin.
“It helps to be the one who introduced them,” Angela says proudly, making the rookies exchange a look.
“She’s basically the polar opposite of Tim,” Nolan says, wondering why Angela had thought you and Tim would’ve made a good couple.
“They say opposites attract and I just knew y/n and Tim would work,” Angela says, folding her arms across her chest as the other rookies begin to bombard her with questions.
Meanwhile, you led Mia to Tim’s hospital room, opening the door and encouraging her to enter the room, seeing how she smiled upon seeing her dad.
“Daddy!” She says happily, rushing over to Tim’s bedside as Tim smiles widely.
“Hi, Sweetheart,” Tim says, holding an arm open to encourage Mia to hop up alongside him but you both see her hesitation as you pull up a chair alongside the bedside, settling into it. You exchange a glance with Tim before you realise why it is she was hesitating to join Tim.
“You’re not going to hurt Daddy, Sweetie.” You say softly. You remembered how when Tim got shot and was in the hospital last, Mia had rushed into his hospital room and nearly jumped up alongside him so you had warned Mia to be careful and to not jump on him while he was hurt.
“I’m not hurt, Princess. I promise.” Tim says, smiling softly at your daughter as he extends his arm out once again, and this time Mia carefully climbs up on the bed alongside him and curls into his embrace, resting her head on his chest.
“How long have you got off this time?” You ask lightly as Tim runs a hand up and down Mia’s back.
“At least two weeks,” Tim says, remembering what the doctor had told him just so they could play on the side of caution.
“Oh good, that’s plenty of time for you to reconsider my idea of getting a dog.” You say with a smile, watching as Tim jokingly glares at you while Mia perks up.
“Yes! Get a dog!” She says excitedly, curling up closer to Tim and attempting to give him puppy dog eyes.
“We’ve been over this,” Tim says, looking pointedly at you as you smile innocently.
“Please, Daddy.” Mia pleads, cuddling impossibly closer as Tim rolls his eyes jokingly.
“I will consider it.” Tim concedes, sighing as you and Mia share a high-five. As you settle back in your seat, you reach across and rest your hand atop Tim’s free hand, smiling as you watch him press a gentle kiss atop Mia’s head.
As you watched Tim interacting with Mia, you were filled with overwhelming gratitude that Tim was okay. He was so important to you and Mia and you dreaded the mere thought of him not being around anymore. But he was alive and healthy, and you knew that he would not let anything get in between him and his family.
He’d always make his way home to you.
#justabigassnerd#justabigassnerd writes#the rookie#the rookie abc#the rookie fic#the rookie fanfic#the rookie imagine#tim bradford#tim bradford the rookie#tim bradford fic#tim bradford x reader#tim bradford x you#tim bradford x y/n#tim bradford imagine#tim bradford x fem!reader
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Hello! If you are comfortable can you please write more dad-husband tyler owens? And also i love your content!
-🪼
Again
Pairing: Tyler Owens x Reader
Summary: Tyler reflects on the overwhelming love and responsibility of becoming a father again, making silent promises to his unborn child as he and Y/N cherish the anticipation of their growing family.
Warnings: This chapter contains themes of pregnancy, emotional moments involving family, and heartfelt reflections on parenthood, which may evoke strong feelings.
The late afternoon sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden hue over the Owens' home. Tyler was on the living room floor with Hazel, their three-year-old daughter, who was deeply engrossed in building a tower with her colourful blocks. Her curls bounced as she placed each block with careful precision, her little tongue poking out in concentration. Tyler watched her with a fond smile, cherishing the simplicity of this moment. It was these quiet afternoons, filled with Hazel's laughter and the joy of just being together, that Tyler loved the most.
“Daddy, look! It’s almost as tall as me!” Hazel exclaimed, her eyes bright with pride as she stepped back to admire her creation.
“That’s amazing, sweetheart,” Tyler replied, his voice filled with genuine admiration. “You’ve got a real talent for building things.”
Hazel’s face lit up with joy, and she threw her arms around Tyler’s neck in a spontaneous hug. Tyler held her close, feeling the warmth of her small body against his chest, and for a moment, everything in the world felt just right.
But something had been different today. From the moment Y/N had left for work that morning, Tyler had sensed it. She’d hugged him a little longer, her gaze lingering on him with an intensity he couldn’t quite place. There was something she wasn’t saying, something just beneath the surface, and it had been on his mind all day.
The sound of the front door opening pulled Tyler from his thoughts. Hazel’s head snapped up, her eyes lighting up with excitement. “Mommy’s home!” she squealed, jumping to her feet and racing toward the door.
Tyler followed more slowly, his heart picking up speed as he saw Y/N step inside. She was still in her work clothes, a tired but content smile on her face as she bent down to scoop Hazel into her arms. But even from across the room, Tyler could tell something was different. There was a certain glow about her, a quiet energy that made his breath catch.
“Hey, you two,” Y/N greeted, pressing a kiss to Hazel’s cheek before setting her down. “How was your day?”
“Great!” Hazel chirped, grabbing her mother’s hand and tugging her toward the living room. “I built the tallest tower ever! Come see!”
Y/N laughed, letting herself be led by their daughter, but her eyes flicked to Tyler, and he saw it again—that unreadable emotion that made his heart race. She was holding something back, and he knew she wouldn’t be able to for much longer.
“Why don’t you go get your favourite book, Hazel?” Y/N suggested gently after admiring the tower. “Mommy and Daddy need to talk for a minute.”
Hazel, always eager for story time, nodded eagerly and dashed off to her room, leaving Tyler and Y/N alone in the living room. As soon as she was out of sight, Y/N turned to him, her hands twisting nervously in front of her. Tyler’s heart clenched at the sight. He stepped closer, reaching out to take her hands in his.
“Y/N, what’s going on?” he asked softly, his voice filled with concern and anticipation. “Is everything okay?”
Y/N took a deep breath, her eyes meeting his with a mixture of excitement and anxiety. “I... I think I might be pregnant,” she confessed, her voice trembling slightly.
Tyler’s eyes widened, his heart skipping a beat. “You think?” he repeated, his mind racing to catch up with what she was saying.
“I wasn’t sure,” Y/N explained quickly, her words tumbling out as if she needed to get them all out before she lost her nerve. “I’ve been feeling a little off lately, so I picked up a test on the way home, but I don’t know how far along I might be. I just... I needed to know before I told you.”
Tyler stared at her, his breath caught in his throat as the weight of her words settled over him. She thought she might be pregnant. They might be having another baby. He felt a rush of emotions—joy, disbelief, and something that felt like awe.
“Did you take the test?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
Y/N nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She reached into her pocket and pulled out the small, white stick, holding it out to him with trembling hands. Tyler took it from her, his eyes locking onto the tiny screen. Two pink lines. Positive.
For a moment, the world seemed to stop. Tyler stared at the test in his hand, his heart pounding in his chest as he tried to process what he was seeing. He looked back up at Y/N, his eyes wide with disbelief and wonder.
“You’re... you’re pregnant?” he asked, his voice thick with emotion.
Y/N nodded again, tears spilling over her cheeks as she watched his reaction. “I think so,” she whispered. “But I don’t know how far along I am. I wanted to wait to see the doctor before we told Hazel, just to be sure.”
Tyler’s heart swelled with love and gratitude for this woman, for the life they had built together, and for the new life that might be growing inside her. A laugh of pure joy escaped him, and he pulled her into his arms, lifting her off the ground as he spun her around.
Y/N laughed through her tears, her arms wrapping around his neck as she buried her face in his shoulder. “Tyler,” she whispered, her voice filled with emotion. “We’re going to have another baby.”
Tyler set her down gently, his hands cupping her face as he looked into her eyes. His own eyes were wet with tears now, but he didn’t care. This moment was too beautiful, too perfect to hold anything back.
“I can’t believe it,” he murmured, his voice shaky with joy. “We’re having another baby.”
Y/N smiled up at him, her eyes shining with happiness. “I know it’s a lot to take in. I wasn’t expecting it either, but... I’m happy, Tyler. I’m really happy.”
Tyler felt his heart swell even more, if that was possible. He pulled her close, pressing his forehead against hers as he closed his eyes, letting the reality of their new situation wash over him. They were going to do this all over again—nights of soothing a crying baby, days of watching another child grow and learn and become their own person. And he couldn’t wait.
“We’ll take it one step at a time,” he whispered, his voice filled with quiet determination. “We’ll see the doctor, find out how far along you are, and then... then we’ll tell Hazel. She’s going to be so excited.”
Y/N nodded, her eyes still locked on his. “I know she will be. She’s going to be an amazing big sister.”
Tyler laughed softly, his thumb brushing away the tear that had slipped down her cheek. “And you’re going to be an amazing mom to two kids. Just like you are to Hazel.”
Y/N smiled, leaning into his touch as she let out a shaky breath. “I couldn’t do it without you, Tyler.”
“You won’t have to,” he promised, his voice filled with love. “We’re in this together, every step of the way.”
They stood there for a long moment, wrapped up in each other, their hearts full of love and anticipation for the journey ahead. Tyler knew that there would be challenges, just like there had been with Hazel, but he also knew that they would face them together, as a family.
After a while, they both glanced toward Hazel’s room, where their daughter was no doubt waiting eagerly for them to join her. Tyler smiled, squeezing Y/N’s hand.
“Should we go read that story?” he asked softly.
Y/N nodded, a soft smile on her lips. “Yeah. Let’s go.”
---
A few days after Y/N had taken the pregnancy test, Tyler and Y/N found themselves sitting in the waiting room of their OB-GYN’s office, anticipation and nerves swirling in the air around them. Y/N’s hand was clasped tightly in Tyler’s, their fingers intertwined as they waited for their names to be called. The past few days had been a whirlwind of emotions—excitement, disbelief, and a deep sense of joy that they were both still coming to terms with.
Tyler glanced over at Y/N, who was nervously tapping her foot on the floor. He squeezed her hand, offering her a reassuring smile. “You okay?” he asked softly.
Y/N nodded, though the tension in her shoulders was still visible. “I’m just anxious,” she admitted. “I want to know how far along we are. I want to see the baby.”
Tyler felt a surge of protectiveness for her, his thumb brushing gently over the back of her hand. “We’ll know soon,” he assured her. “And whatever happens, we’re in this together.”
Y/N smiled at him, her eyes softening with love. “I know,” she whispered, leaning into his shoulder as they continued to wait.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the nurse called them back. Tyler and Y/N stood, their hands still linked as they followed the nurse down the hallway to the ultrasound room. The room was dimly lit, with a comfortable chair next to the examination table where Y/N would soon be lying. Tyler helped her onto the table, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and nervousness.
The ultrasound technician, a kind woman with a gentle demeanour, greeted them with a warm smile. “Congratulations,” she said, her voice full of genuine warmth. “We’re going to get our first look at your baby today.”
Y/N returned the smile, though Tyler could see the anxiety still lingering in her eyes. He took her hand again, standing close by as the technician prepared the equipment. The sound of the machine powering on filled the room, and Tyler felt his heart rate pick up in anticipation.
“Alright, Y/N,” the technician said, her voice calm and reassuring. “This might feel a little cold, but it’ll warm up quickly.”
Y/N nodded, taking a deep breath as the technician applied the gel to her abdomen. Tyler watched closely, his eyes fixed on the screen next to them. He wasn’t sure what to expect, but he knew this moment was going to be one he’d remember for the rest of his life.
The technician moved the ultrasound wand over Y/N’s stomach, her eyes focused on the screen as she began to search for the tiny life growing inside her. Tyler held his breath, his heart pounding in his chest as he watched the screen with wide eyes, looking for any sign of their baby.
And then, there it was—a small, flickering shape on the screen, barely recognizable, but unmistakably there. Tyler’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes welling up with tears as he realized what he was seeing.
“There’s your baby,” the technician said softly, her voice full of awe as she pointed to the tiny figure on the screen. “Right here.”
Tyler’s hand tightened around Y/N’s as he stared at the screen, unable to tear his eyes away from the small, flickering heartbeat. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. The room seemed to fall away, leaving just him, Y/N, and the incredible sight of their child’s first image.
“Is that...?” Y/N’s voice trembled, her eyes filling with tears as she looked at the screen.
The technician nodded, smiling warmly at both of them. “That’s your baby,” she confirmed. “It looks like you’re about eight weeks along. Everything is measuring perfectly.”
Eight weeks. Tyler felt a rush of emotion—relief, joy, and an overwhelming sense of awe. Their baby was already so real, already so alive. He could see the tiny head, the beginnings of arms and legs, all so small and yet so perfect. And that heartbeat—steady, strong, a beautiful rhythm that filled him with a sense of wonder he couldn’t quite put into words.
Y/N squeezed his hand, her eyes shining with tears as she looked up at him. “Tyler, that’s our baby,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion.
Tyler couldn’t speak for a moment, his throat tight with the effort of holding back his own tears. He nodded, swallowing hard as he looked down at Y/N. “I know,” he whispered back, his voice breaking. “It’s really happening.”
The technician continued to take measurements, pointing out different parts of the baby as she did. Tyler listened, barely registering the words as he focused on the tiny, flickering heartbeat that held his entire world in its rhythm. Every detail was perfect, every movement a miracle.
“There’s the head,” the technician said softly, her voice full of the quiet reverence that came with witnessing the beginning of a new life. “And here, you can see the arms starting to form.”
Tyler watched in awe as the technician moved the wand, showing them different angles of their baby. Each new image brought a fresh wave of emotion, and he found himself blinking back tears more than once. He looked down at Y/N, seeing the same mixture of joy and wonder reflected in her eyes.
“We’re really going to do this again,” Y/N whispered, her voice filled with both excitement and a touch of disbelief.
Tyler nodded, his heart full to bursting. “We are,” he agreed, his voice thick with emotion. “And I can’t wait.”
The technician finished the scan, printing out a few images for them to take home. Tyler took the small, glossy pictures with trembling hands, his eyes scanning each one as if trying to commit every detail to memory. This was their baby—small, delicate, and already so deeply loved.
“Everything looks great,” the technician said, smiling at them both as she handed the pictures to Tyler. “You’re right on track. Congratulations again.”
“Thank you,” Y/N said, her voice filled with gratitude.
Tyler helped Y/N sit up, the two of them still in a daze as they thanked the technician and left the room. As they walked out into the hallway, Tyler couldn’t stop looking at the ultrasound pictures in his hand. He knew they’d be showing these to Hazel soon enough, sharing the news that she was going to be a big sister. But for now, this moment was theirs, a private joy that filled his heart with more love than he thought possible.
Once they were back in the car, Tyler turned to Y/N, his hand resting gently on her stomach. “I’m so happy,” he whispered, his eyes meeting hers. “I didn’t think I could love anyone as much as I love Hazel, but... this baby, our baby... it’s like my heart just keeps growing.”
Y/N smiled, her own hand covering his as she leaned in to kiss him softly. “I feel the same way,” she murmured against his lips. “We’re going to be a family of four, Tyler. Can you believe it?”
Tyler shook his head, his eyes shining with unshed tears. “No,” he admitted, his voice full of wonder. “But I can’t wait.”
---
The sun was setting, casting a warm golden light through the windows of the Owens’ living room. Tyler and Y/N sat on the couch, their hearts full of anticipation as they prepared to share the news with Hazel. They had just returned from the doctor’s appointment, where they’d seen their tiny baby on the ultrasound for the first time. The black-and-white pictures of the baby’s first images were still fresh in their minds, tucked away safely in Y/N’s purse.
Hazel was playing on the floor nearby, her toy animals scattered around her as she created an elaborate scene with them. She was in her own little world, humming softly to herself as she made her animals talk to each other. Tyler watched her with a soft smile, feeling his heart swell with love for his little girl. Soon, she would no longer be their only child. She would be a big sister.
“Hazel,” Y/N called gently, breaking the peaceful silence.
Hazel looked up from her toys, her wide brown eyes curious. “Yes, Mommy?” she asked, pushing her curls out of her face as she stood up.
“Come here, sweetheart,” Tyler said, patting the spot between him and Y/N on the couch. “We have something really special to tell you.”
Hazel’s eyes lit up with excitement. She loved surprises and special news, and she quickly climbed onto the couch between her parents, looking up at them expectantly. “What is it?” she asked eagerly, her little hands gripping Tyler’s arm as she bounced slightly in her seat.
Tyler exchanged a glance with Y/N, who nodded slightly, her own excitement mirrored in her eyes. Tyler took a deep breath, his heart pounding with anticipation as he prepared to share the news that would change Hazel’s world.
“Well, Hazel,” Tyler began, his voice soft and full of love, “you know how much we love you, right?”
Hazel nodded vigorously, her curls bouncing. “I know! I love you and Mommy too!” she declared, her face glowing with happiness.
Tyler smiled, his heart melting at her words. “And you know how we’ve always told you that you’re our special little girl?” he continued.
Hazel nodded again, her eyes wide with curiosity. “Uh-huh.”
Y/N leaned in, her hand gently stroking Hazel’s back as she spoke. “Well, Hazel, you’re going to be even more special soon,” she said softly, her voice filled with emotion. “Because you’re going to be a big sister.”
Hazel blinked, her little brow furrowing in confusion as she tried to process the information. “A big sister?” she repeated, her voice full of wonder. “What does that mean?”
Tyler’s heart swelled with love as he saw the mix of emotions on Hazel’s face—curiosity, excitement, and a little bit of uncertainty. He reached out and gently took her small hand in his, his voice gentle as he explained.
“It means that Mommy has a baby growing in her tummy,” Tyler said, watching Hazel closely for her reaction. “And in a few months, that baby is going to come out, and you’ll have a little brother or sister to play with and take care of.”
Hazel’s eyes widened in surprise, her gaze shifting from Tyler to Y/N and then back to Tyler again. “A baby?” she whispered, her voice full of awe. “In Mommy’s tummy?”
Y/N smiled, nodding as she placed Hazel’s hand on her stomach. “That’s right, sweetie,” she said softly. “There’s a baby in here right now, growing and getting ready to meet us.”
Hazel’s little hand rested gently on Y/N’s stomach, her eyes wide with wonder as she tried to comprehend what she was being told. She was silent for a moment, her expression serious as she thought about the idea of being a big sister.
Finally, Hazel looked up at her parents, her eyes shining with a mixture of excitement and curiosity. “Can I see the baby?” she asked eagerly, her voice tinged with the innocent wonder that only a child could have.
Tyler and Y/N exchanged a tender look, both of them smiling at their daughter’s eagerness. “We have pictures of the baby,” Y/N said, reaching for her purse. “Do you want to see them?”
Hazel nodded eagerly, her eyes glued to Y/N as she pulled out the ultrasound pictures. Y/N carefully unfolded the glossy images and handed them to Hazel, who took them with reverence, her little fingers holding the edges as she stared at the black-and-white shapes.
Tyler watched her closely, his heart pounding with emotion as he saw the way Hazel’s face lit up when she saw the tiny baby on the screen. “That’s your little brother or sister,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “Right there in Mommy’s tummy.”
Hazel’s eyes widened even more as she stared at the ultrasound picture, her mouth opening slightly in awe. “That’s the baby?” she whispered, her voice filled with wonder. “That’s really the baby?”
Y/N nodded, her eyes filling with tears as she watched Hazel’s reaction. “Yes, sweetheart,” she said softly. “That’s really the baby.”
Hazel was silent for a long moment, her eyes locked on the ultrasound picture as she absorbed the reality of what she was seeing. Then, slowly, a smile spread across her face—a smile so bright and pure that it made Tyler’s heart ache with love.
“I’m going to be a big sister,” Hazel said softly, almost to herself, as if she was still trying to wrap her mind around the idea. “I’m going to have a baby to take care of.”
Tyler felt his throat tighten with emotion, and he reached out to gently cup Hazel’s cheek, his voice full of love as he spoke. “Yes, you are, Hazel. And you’re going to be the best big sister ever.”
Hazel looked up at him, her eyes shining with a mix of pride and excitement. “I’ll help you and Mommy take care of the baby,” she promised, her voice filled with determination. “I’ll be the best big sister in the whole world!”
Y/N let out a soft laugh, tears spilling over her cheeks as she leaned in to kiss Hazel’s forehead. “I know you will, sweetie,” she whispered, her voice thick with emotion. “You’re going to be amazing.”
Hazel beamed up at her parents, her face glowing with happiness as she hugged the ultrasound pictures to her chest. “I can’t wait to meet the baby,” she said, her voice full of innocent joy. “I’m going to teach them everything I know!”
Tyler felt his heart swell with pride and love for his little girl, and he pulled her into his arms, holding her close as he kissed the top of her head. “I’m so proud of you, Hazel,” he whispered, his voice breaking with emotion. “You’re going to be the best big sister in the world.”
Hazel snuggled into Tyler’s embrace, her little arms wrapped tightly around his neck as she held onto him with all her might. “I love you, Daddy,” she whispered, her voice filled with all the love she had in her tiny heart. “And I love the baby too.”
Tyler closed his eyes, letting the overwhelming emotion of the moment wash over him as he held his daughter close. “I love you too, Hazel,” he whispered back, his voice thick with tears. “And we all love the baby. So much.”
-
Later that night, after the excitement of the day had finally wound down and Hazel was tucked into bed, Tyler found himself sitting alone in the living room, the house bathed in the soft, dim light of the lamps. Y/N had gone upstairs to check on Hazel one last time, leaving Tyler a few quiet moments to himself.
He leaned back into the couch, his mind swirling with everything that had happened. It had been such a monumental day, filled with so many emotions that he was still trying to process it all. The realization that Hazel was going to be a big sister, the ultrasound, the way their little girl had reacted with such innocent joy—it all felt like a beautiful dream.
Tyler’s eyes fell on the ultrasound pictures sitting on the coffee table in front of him. He reached out, picking them up with gentle fingers, and studied them in the soft light. The tiny, blurry form of their new baby seemed to pulse with life, and as he stared at it, a wave of emotion washed over him.
He felt the weight of it all—the responsibility, the love, the sheer miracle of it. His throat tightened as he thought about how much his life had changed since becoming a father. The overwhelming love he felt for Hazel, and now, the love that was already growing for this new little life. He wasn’t sure how his heart could contain it all, but somehow, it did.
A tear slipped down his cheek, and Tyler didn’t bother to wipe it away. It was a tear of pure, unfiltered emotion—a mixture of joy, awe, and a touch of fear. The same kind of fear he had felt when Y/N had first told him she was pregnant with Hazel. The fear of the unknown, of not being enough, of the challenges that lay ahead. But he knew now, as he had learned over the past three years, that love would always be enough.
He thought about Hazel, her little face lighting up when she realized she was going to be a big sister. The way she had clutched those ultrasound pictures to her chest, already loving the baby she hadn’t even met yet. Tyler’s heart swelled with pride and love for his daughter, who had shown him a kind of love he hadn’t known was possible until she came into his life.
And then there was Y/N. His wife, his partner, his everything. She had been through so much already, and now they were about to embark on this journey again. He knew there would be challenges, moments of exhaustion, moments of doubt—but he also knew that there would be so much joy. So much love.
Tyler let out a shaky breath, closing his eyes as he held the ultrasound picture close to his chest. He whispered into the quiet of the living room, speaking to the baby that was still growing inside Y/N.
“I promise you,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, “I’ll do everything I can to be the best dad I can be for you. Just like I am for Hazel. I promise I’ll protect you, and love you, and always be there for you. Just like I am for your sister.”
He opened his eyes, staring down at the tiny image of the baby, feeling a tear slip down his cheek. “You’re going to have the best big sister in the world,” he continued softly. “And you have the best mom too. We’re going to be a family, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure you’re safe and happy.”
The sound of soft footsteps caught his attention, and Tyler looked up to see Y/N standing in the doorway, her eyes filled with the same emotion he was feeling. She walked over to him, sitting down next to him on the couch and resting her head on his shoulder.
“What are you thinking about?” she asked softly, her hand resting gently on his arm.
Tyler took a deep breath, his eyes still on the ultrasound picture in his hand. “Just... how lucky we are,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “How much I love you, and Hazel, and this little one already. It’s overwhelming sometimes.”
Y/N smiled softly, her hand moving to rest on his chest, right over his heart. “We are lucky,” she agreed, her voice full of warmth. “And you’re going to be an amazing dad to both of them, Tyler. I have no doubt about that.”
Tyler turned to look at her, his eyes filled with love and gratitude. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. “I couldn’t do this without you,” he murmured against her skin. “You’re my rock, Y/N. You always have been.”
Y/N’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she looked up at him, her smile soft and full of love. “And you’re mine,” she whispered back. “We’re in this together, Tyler. Just like always.”
They sat there in the quiet of the living room, holding each other close as they let the reality of their growing family settle around them. Tyler knew there were challenges ahead—long nights, tired days, moments of doubt—but he also knew that with Y/N by his side, they could face anything.
As he held the ultrasound picture close, Tyler made one more silent promise—to love his family with everything he had, to be the best father he could be, and to cherish every moment of this incredible journey they were on together.
And with Y/N by his side, he knew that promise would be easy to keep.
Requests for Tyler are open be free to send in as much as you wish!
tagging some:
@senawashere
@saviorcomplexrry
@cevansbaby-dove
@saynotononsense
@missdottie
@willowisp7
@taorislover94
@eloquenceinpurple
@86laura11
@rosiahills22
@jessicab1991
@kmc1989
@shanimallina87
@eternalsams
@teen-antisocial
@katiemcrae
#tyler owens x reader#tyler owens x you#tyler owens fanfic#tyler owens#twisters fanfiction#tyler owens imagine#tyler owens x y/n#tyler owens smut#dad!tyler owens
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No One But You
Here is another new Emperor Geta imagine, requested by the lovely @emberdreams I hope you like how it turned out.
Please let me know what you all think and keep the Geta requests coming I am on a roll with writing him at the moment.
Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17
@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix
Main Masterlist
Summary: On the night of their wedding, (Y/n) opens up to Geta about some of her insecurities. He quashes every one and makes sure she knows how glad he is that she's his wife now.
Enjoy.
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/c6b8576d7b28c63d51a58bdc118f3f96/e6e6d477aa2d9db7-fe/s540x810/4d9308cd2a2921f0feae859b46c151e9dfe619d4.webp)
Apprehension bubbled away inside (Y/n) the further they walked down the corridor. She could feel her palms beginning to sweat while she tried to tangle her fingers together in front of her to rid herself of the energy coursing through her veins.
This is what she had been imagining and dreaming of for the last month.
All the preparations, all the panic and the fuss and the organisation, it had all led up to today, but every daydream and every panicked thought (Y/n) had was about tonight, not earlier today.
Her wedding day.
(Y/n) couldn't believe how lucky she was. Not only had she found herself falling for one of the Emperors when she had visited the palace with her father, who happened to be a Senator. But she now found herself married to said Emperor. The highest authority in Rome. The most desired man in Rome, the man who could end a life with the tilt of his thumb. And now (Y/n) was married to him.
Another shiver tore down (Y/n)'s spine when she felt a warm hand pressing into her lower back. She could feel Geta standing so close to her side that his elbow was brushing her side and his fingers were gliding up and down her lower back between her hips. The smooth action caused his fingers to ruffle a few creases in her pale golden dress.
Cream was always a fashionable colour, but when (Y/n) had been told that she could choose what colour she wanted her wedding dress to be, she knew there was only one colour she could choose.
Golden.
Her new husband's favourite colour. The colour of his luscious hair, the colour he seemed to wear somewhere on his person without fail, every day. The colour that lit up Geta and made everyone think of the sun whenever they saw him. The sun, their source of light and life which related to both Emperors in so many ways.
"Here we are." The low, hushed tone of Geta's voice against the shell of her ear almost made (Y/n) swoon.
She looked up over her shoulder to see a slight smirk dancing across his face, but his expression was genuine, happy even. His make up had been applied heavily for the occasion today and it did not disappoint. His eyes were shrouded in darkness like black coals surrounding two pale brown eyes that looked the colour of mulled wine. And (Y/n) had never seen his lips look so blood red before. He truly was beautiful.
Despite the course of the day, the make up hadn't faded and neither had Geta's mood or energy. If anything, he seemed to have gained more life as the day went on.
Whereas (Y/n) felt like she had become more and more anxious with each passing moment.
She wanted to be a good wife, she didn't want to disappoint her husband.
(Y/n) tried to take note of where they were in the palace but she had long since lost her sense of direction and her bearings. She would need Geta to show her around tomorrow so she could be able to roam the halls without getting herself lost.
After all, this was her new home. Her new room, she had to find her way to and from this corridor.
Her head bowed down and her hands continued to fiddle in front of her while she let Geta step in front of her rather than standing behind her, silently directing her through the halls of the palace.
The festivities had ended, but the distant sound of footsteps and chatter could vaguely be heard. The music had ended, the guests were either retiring to their rooms or making their way back home and the servants were tidying up the banquet hall and clearing the last of the dishes and the drunken fellows from the room.
(Y/n) took the time to look around once Geta opened the chamber door and led her inside. It was both what she had expected and somewhat different to her imaginings.
The adjoining room which she figured served as Geta's private study was spacious. Two desks, a balcony, a purple and red rug lined the floor. Plants in the corners, long white veil drapes hung beside the windows behind a large sofa. The only thing (Y/n) couldn't find were any books anywhere. There were some papers on the desk, but they looked like official state business.
She allowed a smile to flutter across her lips when Geta reached out for her hand and beckoned her to follow him. He led her through into the adjoining room. The bedroom.
(Y/n) curled her free hand around Geta's bare arm and leaned into his side as she looked around the bedroom that was twice the size of her room from when she lived at home. She almost didn't notice the maid stood timidly in the corner until Geta turned towards her.
It was clear she had turned down the bed and set some fresh wine on the table.
"You may go." Geta ticked his wrist to the side to give the maid a signal to leave.
There was a slight look of bewilderment in her eyes but she was quick to nod, curtsey and scurry from the room. It was unusual for the Emperor to be so passive and mellow. All the servants were used to being dismissed by Geta raging at them. Sometimes all that was needed was one angered look from him and the maids went running. Other times he would shout at them to move, to leave him be and get out of the way.
Once, after a very bad argument with his brother when Caracalla had been in one of his moods, Geta had thrown a glass at one of the maids when he shouted at her to leave. He regretted it afterwards, and made sure that maid worked in the kitchens from now on so he didn't have to bump into her again.
Once the maid left and the doors were safely closed, Geta turned his head to look down at (Y/n). There was a hopeful look in his eyes as he stared down at her.
"Do you like it?" He was suddenly very anxious and he wasn't sure how he would respond if she said no. He wanted her to like the room, this was going to be her room, her home, from now on.
"It's lovely." (Y/n) leaned her cheek against Geta's arm while she looked around.
She could quite happily live in this room alone. The bed was bigger than any she had ever seen or slept in before. There was a lounge sofa at the foot of the bed and she knew that once the sun rose in the morning, this room would be flooded with light.
There were even flowers in a vase on the far table along with a pitcher of wine. All that was missing was a few books and maybe an ornament or two so it was truly homely.
(Y/n) was surprised by Geta's sudden affection when he leaned down and kissed her temple with his lips still curved into a bright smile.
She felt him murmur "Good," against her temple before he pulled back and her eyes followed him as he moved to the vanity in the far corner of the room. He began shedding the rings and cuffs from his hands and wrists and the golden leaf crown that was nestled so suitably into his hair.
Her eyes found themselves locked on him, surprised and intrigued as she watched him begin to remove each article of jewellery so slowly and carefully. And she noticed that each one had its own place on the vanity. Maybe that was just how Geta liked things, or perhaps it was a strategy to make sure no one tried to pilfer any of his jewels. (Y/n) would have to find out, she had to learn these things, these quirks and habits of her husband.
She continued to gaze across at him while she slowly stepped into the room and decided to perch down on the end of the bed.
The mattress was soft, it felt like sinking into a cloud and (Y/n) laid her hands down on her lap as she continued to watch Geta with growing anticipation and nerves.
All the wine was going to her head.
That thought made a small smile curve at (Y/n)'s lips as she quietly shook her head to herself. It wasn't as if she had drank enough to sink a ship. She had barely had three glasses of spiced wine all night, but that was enough to mingle in with the adrenaline surging through her system making her feel lightheaded.
She didn't want to be so nervous, she didn't want to feel so childish and silly, but she couldn't help it.
This was it. Tonight was going to change things. They would truly be husband and wife after tonight. Her mother had said this would make her a 'true woman' after sleeping with her husband. This was the start of her new life, and (Y/n) wanted so badly to please Geta. It was pressing on her mind so much that she was starting to panic again.
(Y/n)'s eyes followed Geta's movements as he stripped the red and golden robes from his shoulders and the belt from his waist. She hadn't seemed to notice that he had figured out she was watching him until their eyes met. Something mischevious glinted in those dark eyes and she could see his teeth beginning to nibble down on his lower lip while he watched her.
The way he stalked towards her made (Y/n) wonder if this was how the animals felt when the hunting parties went out. If those animals knew they were ensnared in a trap, about to be caught and claimed.
She moved her hands to grip the edge of the bed, steadying herself while she watched Geta walk slowly towards her. Her head angled back and her eyes followed him as he stood close enough that their knees were now touching and he stooped forward so he was leaning over her. His hand gently brushed beneath her chin and he tilted her head back a little more so their gazes were interlocked.
(Y/n) wasn't sure she could scramble one coherent thought together as she looked up at him. And when his other hand glided along her chin and round to the back of her neck, she didn't know what to do.
A small sound tumbled past her lips when she felt Geta's nimble fingers weaving into her neatly pinned hair.
He easily pulled a pin from the back of her hair and watched with a glowering grin as her hair fell from its previous style. Loose tendrils fluttered towards her shoulders and bounced around her cheeks and near her eyes. Geta had the sudden urge to run his fingers through her hair, to knot his fingers in her tendrils and pull and angle her head in his direction.
"Beautiful." He muttered with a grin to rival all others and when (Y/n) tried to bashfully duck her head, she felt his hand press into her chin to prevent her from looking away from him.
She was sure he murmured "Don't hide from me," but his voice was so tender and quiet that she couldn't be sure whether she heard him or simply imagined it. Either way, Geta's lips were suddenly on hers, overriding every other thought she had and turning her brain to mush.
She felt his hands slither down until he was gripping her waist with his thumbs gliding over her hips. (Y/n) felt like she was turning to jelly the longer he kissed her. She was almost going limp in his arms and it allowed Geta to shuffle her further up the bed until she was sat in the middle and he was knelt over her with his knees pressing down on either side of her thighs.
When his wine-stained lips finally let her come up for air, (Y/n) couldn't help but admire the way he sank back on his heels and stayed kneeling over her lap like this. It was a position she had never been in before, but one she was already in love with.
(Y/n) wasn't quite sure what to do with herself when Geta leaned forward and tucked his face into the crook of her neck. She decided on settling her hands on his broad shoulders while she fought back a shiver when his lips attached to the side of her neck. She couldn't help but scratch her nails against his shoulders when his teeth grazed against her skin but it seemed to encourage him further.
She stayed amicably still while Geta leaned further into her and hovered over her, looking like an angel cast in the gentle candlelight.
Her hands moved from his shoulders to daringly cup either side of his neck and her thumbs grazed along the sharp cut of his jaw when Geta lifted his head to kiss her again. It felt like he was stealing all the air from his lungs and (Y/n) would gladly give it all to him if that's what he desired.
She could feel herself going lightheaded while his tongue parted her lips and had her straining to stay sitting upright when he was leaning enough that she was close to falling on her back.
But her eyes opened with intrigue when she felt Geta's hands move. She watched, wide-eyed but somewhat calm and still while he began his administrations of pulling the short golden straps down her arms. The feeling of his fingertips gliding along her skin was soft and ticklish and she held her breath when Geta hooked his finger in the cleavage of her dress so he could further pull it down.
He liked the way her chest started to heave with faster, shallow breaths the more he continued to tug on her dress until he unhooked it from around her hips and discarded it somewhere on the floor. He liked how nervous she seemed and how she was clearly waiting for him to make each movement like she was too afraid to move on her own and do something first.
Although he was pleasantly surprised when (Y/n) seemed to become unstuck and her hands moved of their own accord. He paused with his hands settled on her bare hips and his lips attached to the edge of her mouth, barely touching and parted enough so that Geta could glance his eyes down and watch her slow movements.
He stayed pliant and curious while (Y/n)'s fingertips tickled his waist and she fished around for the hem of his shirt and pulled it up. Geta obliged, parting from her so she could tug the golden material over his head, following his lead by tossing it somewhere on the floor.
It seemed unfair how he had undressed (Y/n) but had stayed still somewhat clothed before her. She wanted to even the scales.
"Okay?"
Geta's question took her by surprise and (Y/n)'s wide eyes lifted to lock with his as she nodded. Lips slightly parted in that docile look that made her look like a Goddess sat before him.
(Y/n) allowed her eyes to drag along Geta's frame, allowing herself to take in his pale milky skin and search for any marks or scars. Anything on he great canvas that was his skin so she could commit each mark to memory. She wanted to be able to know Geta's body like a map of the world, something she could trace and get to know and navigate even with her eyes closed.
Her observations were cut off when Geta leaned forward and pecked her lips, gently at first. Then again and again until he was slowly nudging her down into the bed, devouring her lips like they were the air he needed to breathe. His tongue swiped over her lower lip and his right hand gave her flesh a tight squeeze as he continued to hover above her.
Her hands moved round to cup his face and her thumbs brushed across his freshly shaven face. He tensed up his chest and pushed down, effortlessly pinning her back against the mattress so she stayed beneath him. Right where he wanted her.
She felt like the bed was made of quick sand that was swallowing her whole. The more Geta leaned down into her, the more (Y/n) felt like she was about to disappear, but in the best possible way.
Geta attached his lips to her jaw while one hand slid down her waist to find purchase on her hip. But after a moment or two, he noticed the faraway look in her eyes like she was wandering some place else in her mind.
His lips peppered across her jaw, up the corner of her mouth and after a few soft pecks to her mouth, he hummed "Okay?" against her lips.
(Y/n) tried to nod, but she could see the look in Geta's eyes told her he didn't quite believe her.
Her hands moved to settle on his shoulders again and she lifted her head, chasing after his lips when he pulled back so he could look down on her properly. (Y/n) didn't want him to worry or think that something was wrong when it wasn't. It was simply (Y/n)'s mind running away without her, she couldn't help all her thoughts that were starting to override everything else.
She knew she needed to calm down and relax, that she needed to let every worry run out of her head so she could be in this moment with Geta. After all, this is what she had been worrying, thinking and dreaming about for weeks now.
She tried again to kiss him but Geta angled his head to one side and arched a brow in that mannerism that told her to tell him the truth. They had been married only hours and already he could tell when she wasn't telling him something.
"I'm just… nervous." (Y/n) did her best to hide the embarrassment from her voice and stop from ducking her head down so she wasn't avoiding his gaze. She guessed if she tried to look away he would simply lift her chin so she was looking at him again.
"Of me?" There was an air of concern in Geta's voice, but it didn't fade the smile on his lips.
A flutter of panic bubbled up in (Y/n)'s chest and ignited in her eyes, especially when Geta moved. She thought for a moment that he was about to climb off her and possibly move away, that she might have offended him without realising. But he was simply switching positions.
Instead of kneeling with each knee pressing into her thighs, Geta shifted until (Y/n) parted her thighs and he could kneel between them instead. His abdomen pressed down against hers and he propped up on his elbows so he didn't let his full weight crush down on her. He began to glide his fingertips along her shoulder and across the bare expanse of her chest which caused (Y/n) to shiver beneath him.
"No, no… I just, I want to be good enough for you. I want to be able to take care of you properly."
That was the best way that (Y/n) could word what was circling through her mind.
She was truly afraid she wouldn't be enough. It was a miracle that Geta had even been interested in her in the first place and that he seemed to truly care about her. All her life, (Y/n) had been brought up to know that any marriage she was presented with by her parents would be about advantages and prosperity, not love or someone she truly wanted to be with.
Falling for Geta had been one thing, but him falling for her too and asking her to marry him felt too good to be true. And (Y/n) wanted to be good enough for him. She wanted to be a good wife, she wanted to be enough for Geta in every sense of the word. It was her duty as a wife to please him, especially when it came to sex and having an heir.
But (Y/n) had never done this before and she couldn't help the gnawing worry in the back of her mind that she might not be good enough for Geta. That he would be bored with her or think she wasn't enticing or satisfying enough for him. After all, it was no secret that both Emperors had their fair share of women. They made that clear when they turned up to events and gatherings with their vast gathering of concubines and whores.
"You're worried you won't be enough?" Genuine confusion entwined in Geta's voice as his smile faded into a frown.
He couldn't gather where (Y/n) would get an idea like that. Had he done something to give her that impression? Did he make a remark that made her worry? Had someone else poisoned her ear against him? Why wouldn't she be good enough for him?
(Y/n) felt like ducking her head down to avoid that intensifying gaze, but she resisted the urge. Instead, she focused her gaze on the dark circles beneath his eyes that hadn't been washed off yet. And she rose her hand to glide her fingertips up the side of his neck, tracing each curve and muscle that pressed out against his skin.
"You've been with other lovers, Geta. I haven't." She couldn't look him in the eyes as she spoke, it made her feel so silly and somehow ashamed.
It wasn't the same for him as it was for her.
It was encouraged for men to be with women before marriage, but if a woman slept with a man before she was married then she was shamed. She was outcast. She was no longer virtuous. And (Y/n) was the daughter of a Senate, her virtue was something she was brought up to hold dear.
Clearly Geta had slept with other women, it was natural and he made no secret of it. But that meant he had more experience with sexual partners whereas (Y/n) didn't. She didn't want to do something wrong or somehow be boring for him and make him prefer the company of his concubines rather than her.
Her eyes widened and finally looked back up to his when Geta reached his hand up from tracing her chest to curl lightly around her wrist that was resting beside his face. He leaned into her touch and turned his head to press a delicate kiss against the inside of her wrist over her throbbing pulse.
"That doesn't mean a thing, dear wife. There might have been others before you, but there won't be anyone else but you now. You're the only one I want; it's you I was determined to marry."
Geta thought his words would have made her smile, but he hated how (Y/n) turned her head to the side so her cheek was pressed into the cushion and she was no longer looking up at him. The action caused a frown to pull deeper at his pale features and he leaned his weight on her a little more so he could reach up and turn her head back in his direction.
He wanted her to believe him because he was telling the truth, he wasn't lying to calm her or give her a false sense of security. She was the girl who caught his eye, she was the one who stole his heart from the very moment he saw her and she was the one who Geta made sure he married.
He spoke to her parents about an engagement as soon as he could, he made sure he didn't have to wait long to marry her because she was the one his heart wanted. He thought she would have figured that out by now.
"You don't believe me?" There was something almost frightful and powerful in his voice which made (Y/n)'s breathing hitch and her chest pushed up against his as she took a deep breath.
She wasn't trying to aggravate him or upset him, she was simply speaking her mind because he had asked.
"My mother prepared me; I know of the concubines and that my place will always be above them-"
(Y/n) had been well prepared.
After the initial shock and her parents brief floundering, her mother had sat her down to talk. She went through everything with (Y/n) from how prestigious this marriage was for their family to what it would mean for (Y/n) to become an Empress.
One of the things that came up was the subject of concubines. (Y/n) knew Geta and Caracalla had a handful of women like that. But she had been told that a wife always came first. A wife was higher than a concubine in the ladder of class and states.
Concubines were mistresses, some of them were treated like wives, they were there for whatever the Emperors wanted whether it was sex, company or someone to talk to. But once (Y/n) married Geta, she would become higher than those women.
Her mother told her that she couldn't expect the Emperor to give up his women. He had a right to have them around the palace if he wished, he would likely get bored and go to them in dark nights when he seeked pleasure. That was something (Y/n) had been told was normal. And when- her mother always said when, not if- (Y/n) became pregnant, there would be a point where Geta would have to abstain from her. It was to make sure the pregnancy wasn't compromised.
During that time, Geta would need someone to go to, someone to be with when he couldn't be with (Y/n).
It hurt, but she had no right to challenge it. She was just hoping that she would be enough for Geta and that he wouldn't go to those women unless (Y/n) was pregnant and couldn't be with him any longer. She didn't want to think of him wandering to those concubines instead of her. Choosing them over her.
"I told you, there is no one but you."
The look of confusion in her eyes seemed to make Geta smile which confused (Y/n) even more.
"I dismissed them after our engagement. The only women of that kind are the ones Caracalla keeps company with. If I must tell you every day that you're the only woman I want, then so be it."
(Y/n) couldn't quite bring herself to comprehend those words. Had he truly dismissed his concubines? Had he done that for her?
He didn't have to, he was the Emperor, he had every right to have those women around him if he so wished. No one could tell him otherwise or question him and none of the men on his council would bat an eyelid about him having those women around or him seeking their company.
After all, Caracalla took a lot of his women everywhere with him and Geta had taken a few to gatherings and parties when he wanted their company. It wasn't something any of them were ashamed of.
She could feel tears welling up in her eyes as his words finally seemed to sink in. Geta wanted her and clearly loved her enough to give himself to her and her alone. He was doing the same as she was. Giving themselves to each other, devoting to only one another. Even during the point in the future where they would have to abstain if (Y/n) got pregnant, Geta was going to devote himself to her and not go with another woman.
Every worry she previously had about tonight and their future had diminished in a matter of minutes.
She took Geta by surprise when she pushed up against his chest and cupped his face in her palms so she could reel him down into a searing kiss. The touch was so surprising that their teeth clashed together and (Y/n) felt Geta groaning against her lips as he slammed his palm down into the mattress before he fell down onto her and crushed her beneath him.
The touch was much appreciated as Geta's other hand squeezed her hip until his fingertips were leaving imprints and bruises in his wake and it felt like they were about to burst through her flesh and press against the bone. But (Y/n) didn't mind. If anything, she welcomed the touch.
She kissed him until the breathlessness made her head spin and she had to drop her head back down onto the pillow, tugging Geta with her until he was practically lying fully on top of her.
The smile that blessed his face was one that made (Y/n)'s stomach flip and she shuddered beneath him, tracing her thumb along the edge of his mouth.
"I'm rather touched you're so concerned with taking care of me, dear wife. That isn't something that happens too often."
There was a whimsical look in Geta's eyes as he spoke and thought about her concern. He was inwardly thrilled that (Y/n) clearly wanted to please him just as much as he wanted to please her and make her happy and take care of her. It wasn't usually like this. It was typically Geta taking care of others; dealing with Rome and her problems and victories. And he was the one who cared for Caracalla.
He watched over his twin, he calmed him when he was enraged and in his awful moods. He soothed him when he was panicked or frightened or when he was drained and didn't feel he could move at all. And when Caracalla was hyper Geta tried to steer him and guide him. He did all he could to protect his brother and it would be the same with (Y/n) too, he would protect and love her with his life.
But it made such a lovely change to have someone else caring for Geta, for a change.
"Now," His words hushed against her lips as a devilish grin spread across his features and he dove down to steal a kiss. "Let me take care of you."
***
The streaks of sunlight that blistered through the drapes cast a hazy orange glow around the room. It seemed to light up every corner and illuminate the room as if (Y/n) had woken up and found herself trapped in a painting with all its brightness and shimmering golden hues.
It took a few moments for her eyes to adjust and for her mind to catch up and work out where she was, for this wasn't her room.
Or rather, it was, but it was new. It was what had now become her room, like something out of a fantasy.
A grin spread across her lips at the mere thought and she tiredly lifted her head from the pillow to look around. She couldn't guess what time it was and she wasn't sure what time Geta usually rose, but she figured it would be early. Not today, though. Not for the next three days, in fact, as Geta had made sure there were no plans or meetings that would tear him away from his wife.
Twisting from her side onto her back, (Y/n) looked across at Geta. He was still sleeping.
He looked peaceful when he slept, like every worry had been washed away and he could finally relax. There were no tense muscles, no tightened jaw or clenched fists or angered shouts when no one listened to him or heeded his words and advice. He looked serene.
(Y/n) couldn't help herself. She had to turn to lay on her front and slowly inch closer to him. She knew he wouldn't mind.
Her chin gingerly settled on his shoulder and she delicately looped her arm over his exposed torso so she was nestled up into his side with her chest pressing on his side.
The room felt oddly warm, considering the windows were partially opened and the sheets were tangled near the bottom of the bed. Only one sheet remained over their entwined bodies and it was wrangled around their legs and draped very low over Geta's abdomen and across (Y/n)'s mid section. She was half covered, but it wasn't as if there was any indecency when no one would be walking in to interrupt them anytime soon.
She began tracing the pad of her finger across his pale skin, noticing the few tiny scars he had near his collar bone and the odd ones that littered his chest. He'd either run in with a few accidents as a child or had been on the wrong end of a sword during training. Perhaps it had been his father; (Y/n) knew his father had been less than kind to the twins when they were growing up. And to shield Caracalla, Geta had taken most of the torment they suffered.
She would make it her mission to note down every mole, every scar and freckle that painted his porcelain skin.
Her fingers continued to dance their path along his skin while she tilted her head down and pressed a few fluttering, soft kisses along his shoulder and up the side of his neck.
She thought he was still asleep until she realised his lips had quirked into a grin, despite his eyes remaining closed and the rest of his body staying frozen to trick her. So he could lay quietly and see what she was up to.
"Morning," (Y/n) murmured softly between hollow kisses along the side of his neck that made Geta visibly shiver and he finally broke out of his frozen state.
He slid his arm beneath her waist, hooked his hand over her hip and reeled her in closer while he flopped his head to the side and peeked his eyes open. His nose scrunched up when he smiled and he tiredly reached his other hand across until his fingers could run through her hair.
He had removed all the pins and flowers from her hair last night and now each strand was knotted and tangled up in a beautiful mess. Geta was sure his own hair didn't look much better, it would likely be stuck up in every direction by now after they had stayed up well into the early morning.
His fingers tangled in her hair and he slowly brushed a few loose tendrils behind her ear whilst gliding his knuckles along her soft cheek. His hand curved around to duck beneath her chin and he angled her head down so he didn't have to move as far to kiss her.
He was sure her kisses amounted to the same intoxication as opium. Too many kisses would make him drunk; and that was exactly the state Geta wanted to feel for the rest of his life.
"What are you thinking?" (Y/n) wasn't sure he heard her with how quiet her voice came out, but the hazy look in his eyes and the smile that pulled on his lips showed that he had.
"That I could get used to a view like this every morning."
His smile could rival even the most beautiful of sunsets and he finally pushed up so he could capture her lips with his for a deeper kiss that allowed him to snatch every ounce of air from her lungs.
This was how Geta wanted to wake up every morning from here on out, and this was exactly the future that was install for them both.
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