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megalony · 5 months ago

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You Called My Wife?

This is a new Jake Seresin imagine, my first request for Jake and I hope you will all like it. Please let me know what you think.

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 @wutheringhearts2275 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

Masterlist

Summary: The Dagger squad don't know much about Jake's personal life. And when he gets hurt during an exercise, they are surprised who comes to look after him.

Enjoy.

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Reaching into his back pocket, Jake pulled out the pair of sunglasses he had been carrying around with him for the last few weeks. The sun here back at home was intense and he couldn't stand the migraines it gave him. Even when he was up in the air, he often had his sunglasses on. He didn't care about the way the glasses pinched his ears or gave him splitting pains in the sides of his neck.

If Bob could wear his prescription glasses to see, then Jake could wear his sunglasses to stop him squinting so much and relieve the headaches he got that were becoming chronic.

His hands fell to his hips once his visors were perched on the bridge of his nose and he looked around.

It hadn't taken Jake nearly as long as he thought to complete his physical. They were doing physical assessments and training every other day to get them ready for their next assignment. They were going to be going against gravity, travelling up to G9 range and it would cause problems with breathing, taking in oxygen and could starve their brains for a few seconds, if not longer.

They all needed to be at their best physically and mentally to prepare for this and up to now, Jake was ready and rearing to go.

Today was training exercises on the ground rather than in the air. They were all doing different activities and now that Jake was rejoining the rest of the squad after his physical, he was supposed to be doing safety and maintenance checks.

He took a look around the open air field. Bradley was over to one side, looking like he was trying to do some physical exercises, but he kept stopping to quietly argue with Maverick who was following him around like a dark, looming shadow. Jake wasn't going to be going over there. He noticed Phoenix and Bob were at their aircraft in the middle of their maintenance. While Coyote was off to one side doing pushups; he had messed up somewhere if that was his punishment. And Jake had already passed Fanboy who was on his way for his own physical.

He busied himself finding one of the clipboards and he jogged over to his aircraft, smiling and patting his hand against the bulk like it was an old friend he was meeting up with.

He circled the aircraft like a vulture, checking the wings, the engines- which had had a run in with a flock of birds two days ago which Jake had been lucky hadn't completely ruined his left engine. He checked the wheels and made sure they were all clipped and chained down so the craft wasn't going anywhere without him.

Once all the outside checks were done, he climbed up the ladder and hopped inside.

It always felt weird to sit in the plane without his proper flight suit or his signature red helmet, but he wasn't going anywhere today. He was only turning the engine on to check everything was working and making sure he got all the right responses to show he would be ready for whatever training exercise he had to go out on next.

He slouched back in the seat, spreading his knees apart with the clipboard in front of him and the pen twisting between his fingers.

After ticking a few boxes, Jake tilted his head back and poised the pen behind his ear while his hand shifted to undo the first button on his uniform. He slid his hand beneath his shirt until his fingers found the familiar silver chain hanging around his neck.

He imbedded the ring into his palm that hung on the end of the chain, always tapping and jostling against his chest whenever he moved.

It felt safer to have his wedding ring on his chain rather than his finger. If he had any accidents and needed to be taken for a scan or for surgery, they would cut his ring off. Rings got in the way, jewellery got in the way and got lost but a chain around his neck was private and secure and more importantly, Jake had that ring as close to his heart as possible.

A soft look crossed his face as he brought his hand to his mouth and kissed the ring that had created a halo indent in the centre of his hand.

"I'll be home soon." He murmured against the ring as a picture of (Y/n) flashed before his eyes.

The last deployment Jake had been on had almost killed him. Three and a half months away from home. Three and a half months where he couldn't see, touch or feel his wife in his arms or have her lips against his or her body pressed up against his own. All he got were a few brief phone calls or five minutes of faceTime every other day, if he wasn't being shipped straight out from dawn until dusk.

He was much happier here where he could spend each night in his own bed, safe in his home with his wife. He didn't have to sleep alone or feel like he was going insane from having absolutely no physical touch or contact with (Y/n). Never before had Jake thought or believed in having withdrawal symptoms for another human being until he got married and had to face the prospect of leaving (Y/n) behind.

When he was done with his checks, Jake heaved himself up to his feet and climbed down back to level ground again.

He waved his clipboard up and down in front of his face like a fan, relishing the slight breeze it created to his melting skin. If he were back home in this heat his shirt would already be off and he would be lounging around in a pair of shorts. Or be would be on the beach in this weather. Either of those thoughts sounded very appealing right now.

He stood still for a few moments, taking in his surroundings and wondering what the next task would be, but his mind kept wandering off to the girl waiting at home for him. Exactly where he wanted to be right now.

"Bob, are you almost done?" Phoenix tilted her head back with an exasperated sigh, one hand clamped around her hip as she the other held onto the ladder Bob was perched on top of.

He was filling up their aircraft with fuel, they had half a tank but it was better to be safe than sorry because they didn't know how long they would be out on their next flight exercise. The last thing they needed was to be marked down and sent to do two hundred push ups because they thought half a tank would be sufficient.

"Almost." His voice was as passive as ever while he swiped his arm across his temple, wiping away the beads of sweat glistening in the afternoon sun.

"Bob, come on we've got other stuff to do."

He didn't know what happened.

One moment Bob was pushing his glasses further up his nose, rolling his eyes at his impatient partner calling up the orders below him. But the next, a shockwave was rattling up the ladder he was perched on and set him off balance.

His hands scrambled to steady himself before he fell off and he subsequently dropped the fuel line that had been in his right hand just as he unclipped it from the air craft that was now fuelled up. Bob scrambled for balance, bashing his legs into the side of the plane and earning a cut down his left forearm that scraped along a jagged edge on the ladder.

But it was the fuel line he was concerned with. It wasn't like filling up a car at the fuel station. The air crafts were large with tanks high up at the back. They had to use large funnel lines that looked like double sized garden hoses with a large round metal clip on the end the size of Bob's hand. That metal created a sizzling sound that sliced through the air when he dropped it.

The line swooped through the air like a bird trying to land but Bob could of cried when he heard a sickening crunch below him. He didn't want to imagine what it collided with- who, it collided with. His eyes snapped closed and he clung to the ladder, trying to gain his balance back so he didn't fall and break an arm or a leg.

The resounding crack echoed around the base and shuddered through everyone within close range. It was a sound no one expected to echo through the open air like that, it travelled far and wide and had everyone coiling in on the spot.

The metal end of the fuel line pelted down, gaining strength and speed as it swung past the ladder, lifted slightly into the air and smacked straight into the right side of Jake's head. Upon impact, his sunglasses snapped and flung off his nose and took flight on a course of their own, six feet across the base.

An awful crack shuddered through Jake's ears and rattled through his head as his eyes automatically snapped closed and his shoulders hunched up. Both arms recoiled into his chest as his clipboard slipped through his fingers that twitched and spasmed, unsure what to do as his body seemed to shutdown and recalibrate all at once.

The force sent his head snapping backwards until his neck got whiplash and his body followed his head's sense of direction, thrusting backwards until he landed harshly on the concrete floor.

Shockwaves rattled through his body causing his legs to shake and spasm out against the floor as if he was kicking and throwing a tantrum and all the air left his lungs when his back hit the floor. It took a few seconds for his diaphragm to loosen and allow his lungs to take in a deep breath, but when he did, a choked moan escaped his lips.

It felt like he'd been shot in the head.

He could feel his pulse throbbing through his temple and circulating all around the circumference of his head like someone pelting round a relay race. He could feel his veins throbbing and the blood steadily trickling down the right side of his face. The feeling of blood oozing down the bridge of his nose and around his eye socket made his nose scrunch up in disgust.

His hands curled and twisted against his chest, desperate to move but the sudden onset of trembling in his bones made it impossible for Jake to coordinate his body properly.

The trembling continued even as Jake suddenly realised he couldn't hear anything around him. He couldn't open his eyes. No sounds broke through the static barrier building up in his ears. He had no control over moving a single part of his body. It felt like his head had been severed from the rest of his body.

"Jesus Bob, what the Hell?!" Bradley spun on his heels and made into a sprint towards the three of them, Maverick hot on his heels.

The sight of Jake, laid out on his back, body overwrought with trembles and blood pooling steadily down one side of his face was a sickening sight none of them ever wanted to witness.

"I wasn't- didn't you see the ladder?" Bob hissed like a snake as he shakily slid down the ladder onto unsteady feet.

His hands began to rake up and down his thighs, wiping the sweat onto his trousers as his glasses started to fall down the bridge of his nose. He hadn't done that on purpose. He didn't just let go of the fuel line; Phoenix bashed into the ladder and knocked him off course. He would have fallen if he didn't scramble for his balance. It could just as easily have been Bob's head split open if he fell the other way or completely lost his footing on the ladder.

"I'm sorry-"

A groan spluttered past Jake's lips and stopped all their ramblings. He managed to curl his fingers around the middle of his shirt and he scrunched it up in his fists as tightly as possible. His legs continued to thrash against the floor but when he tried to open his eyes, he couldn't seem to do it.

"Oh God." He tried his best to reach his hand up towards his head but he could barely lift either arm from trembling against his chest.

Without his glasses that had been broken and flung off somewhere on the base, the sun was beating down on him with unwavering strength. His right eye was blinking furiously to try and stop the blood from getting into his eyes that were rolling to the back of his head that was pounding like a drum.

"Everyone shut up." Maverick's voice snapped through the air like a whip and stopped all their ramblings at once.

He crouched down beside Jake with Bradley on his other side with Bob and Phoenix hovering anxiously in the background and Coyote running over at the sound of commotion.

The wound looked bad. Maverick tilted Jake's head back and tried to touch his hairline to get a proper look. A large slash line went from his hairline towards his eyebrow and the skin had been split apart so neatly it looked like it had been cut with a sharp knife. Blood oozed out in every direction and splattered across Jake's temple and down his nose towards both his eyes like a jam donut had been tossed at his head.

He couldn't see his skull or any bone which was a good sign, but the blunt force could have been enough to crack his skull and give him a fracture. He most definitely had a concussion which meant he could have side effects.

He could start throwing up, he could black out or go fully unconscious, he could have a seizure if the impact was bad enough.

"Get him down to the medbay now." With a click of his hand over to the left, Coyote hurried forward and knelt down behind Jake while Bradley shuffled forward.

The pair of them carefully took one of Jake's arms each and looped them around the back of their necks.

"Alright, up. Let's get you up Hangman." Bradley looped his right arm around Jake's waist while his left hand gripped Jake's wrist. He held his breath and slowly pushed up onto his feet, slowly pulling Jake with him who looked very worse for wear.

Jake's head flopped forward as soon as he was sitting up. He groaned again, spluttering through a moan, spit forming on his lips and blood still trickling down his face. He could feel the shock setting in because even his neck was shaking now and once he was on his feet, his knees wavered and his legs felt oddly heavy and useless. He could barely stay upright and when his knees gave way, he slumped down like he was trying to sit on an imaginary chair.

His hands scrunched down around Coyote and Bradley's shoulders as each of them held his waist and kept him up on his feet.

Both Jake's feet bent awkwardly and the toes of his shoes scraped against the floor as the pair of them dragged him slowly towards the open hanger doors. He tried to move his legs and he did somewhat help them, but he relied on them to drag him along because he felt like collapsing to the floor and curling up into a ball.

He managed to find the will to open his eyes once they were inside, but the sight of the tiled floor disappearing and all the lines blurring before his eyes made his head swoon.

He found his eyes rolling around in his skull before he jolted forward with a croaky "Gonna puke."

True to his word, Jake tossed up his lunch the moment the boys paused in their quick shuffle towards the medbay. He felt a little better after that and he managed to lift his head once the three of them began their awkward tandem walk together.

By the time they were near the medic bay, Jake managed to place one foot in front of the other. He did an awkward walk and started to help them so they didn't have to heave him the whole way there.

"We've had an accident. The fuel line cracked Hangman straight in the temple and knocked him out. He threw up on the way down here." Bradley looked between the two medics idling around and waited for one of them to point towards the bed in the left corner of the large bunker space.

They trotted to the left and turned around, carefully easing Jake down until he was sat in the middle of the bed.

He felt more alive and a bit better once he was sat down. His head flopped back until the base of his head was touching the back of his shoulders and his shaking hands gripped the edge of the bed with intensity to keep himself sitting upright. It took all his effort to stop himself trembling and he tried to take deep breaths to ward off the sickness and the wave of dizziness that overwhelmed him.

"Okay Seresin, let's take a look."

Coyote and Bradley backed up until they were stood to one side. Neither of them fancied going back outside to finish off their exercises when Jake didn't look in his best shape. They would rather wait here to make sure he was alright and then head back to the rest of the team and tell them how he was fairing up. It was clear that Jake would be going home early today, he was lucky not to have been killed with that force, there was no way he was carrying on with any work today after this.

Jake begrudgingly lifted his head when one of the doctors stood in front of him. He let the man hold his chin and tilt his head from side to side to assess the damage and when he shone a pen light across his eyes, Jake winced.

A frightful yelp left his lips when the man tried to touch the wound and he reeled back with a groan.

"Afraid I'm gonna need an X-ray before I can stitch it. I'll clean the wound and get you some painkillers first." They were lucky the wound was on his head as they had a small, portable X-ray scanner in the back room they could use just to double check they didn't have to send him to hospital for urgent treatment. But if it looked okay, he could get some pain relief, be stitched up and sent home for the day.

"Great." Jake winced, trying to form a lopsided smile, but he couldn't quite manage it.

At least he would get to go home earlier than he thought.

***

"Hey," Bob groaned as sweat dripped off his body and onto a small puddle forming on the stone beneath him. His arms trembled as he tried to continue his push ups now that he was well into the hundreds. "Who's that?"

He nudged his nose against his shoulder to push the glasses further up his nose while he indicated his head to the left, signalling Phoenix's attention towards the person advancing across the base.

Maverick had told Bob and Phoenix to finish off Jake's safety checks, prep his fuel tank too and then do a set of two hundred push ups. They both knew they should have been more careful and they shouldn't have started squabbling like children when Jake was hauled off to the medic bay.

Phoenix lifted her head and glanced her eyes around, trying to find out who Bob was referring to. When her eyes set on a woman walking their way, her brows furrowed and she watched where she was walking.

She wasn't in uniform, whoever she was. She had on a baby blue tank top and a pair of denim shorts that stopped just before her knees. Her bag was hung on her shoulder, the strap clutched tightly in her hand and there was a nervous look plastered across her face.

The woman seemed to spare them a glance, noting that they were both sweating through their uniforms, before her eyes set on Maverick and she made a beeline for him.

"Mav, where is he?" (Y/n) bit her lower lip nervously when she reached Maverick who greeted her with a warm smile and a hand on her elbow.

"He's with a doctor, come with me."

(Y/n) nodded and let Maverick lead her inside the base. She couldn't quite believe how high up the ceilings were or how large the bay doors were, it was like everything was amplified as if giants worked and lived here. It felt strange to be walking round here with Maverick when Jake always said he would give her a tour round one day. Plans changed.

She had been expecting much worse when Maverick rang her and said Jake had had a 'minor accident' at the base, but knowing it was nothing to do with a crash or him being in a plane at all made (Y/n) feel better. It stopped her from having a breakdown or a panic attack as she drove down here, but she couldn't fathom what had happened. What kind of accident would her husband have when he was supposed to be safe here on the ground?

She glanced over her shoulder, noticing that the two others who had been doing press ups were now following after her and Maverick, presumably so they could see Jake too. They must be part of his team.

"What happened?"

"Phoenix and Bob, behind you," Maverick tossed a look over his shoulder and pointed his thumb in their direction. "Had a mishap when they fueled their plane. The pipeline dropped and caught Jake in the temple. I think he's got a mild concussion, but he'll be fine."

(Y/n) brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, hearing her shoes clicking loudly against the tiled floor as she followed Maverick around three corners and down a long corridor until they were in front of a medical wing.

That didn't sound too bad. That wasn't nearly as bad as she had been expecting, but it still wasn't good.

Her husband shouldn't be getting into accidents like this at work. He shouldn't be getting smashed in the head with their equipment. He was a pilot, an aviator. He was training every day to be in top physical performance and here he was with a concussion because his team had clearly lacked concentration.

It took all the effort (Y/n) had not to run ahead once they walked into a large open unit almost the same size as the open field outside. There was only one patient in here and (Y/n) set her sights on him immediately.

Jake was sat on the side of a bed, his legs swinging back and forth like a child at a doctor's appointment. His hands were clutching either side of the bed, his lips were set in a firm line and he kept squinting and closing his eyes as a doctor was stood in front of him, cleaning his wound.

Once they were close enough, (Y/n) hurried past Maverick and dropped her bag down by the foot of the bed. She didn't want to get in the way when the doctor was clearly trying to assess Jake and sort him out, but the moment Jake glanced to the left, his eyes widened and he jerked out of the doctor's grip.

"Baby." The surprise was evident in his voice and he let go of the bed to reach an arm out in (Y/n)'s direction. As soon as he started curling his fingers in a grabbing motion, (Y/n) smiled and moved forward.

Jake immediately coiled his arm around (Y/n)'s waist and reeled her closer until she had to plant her hands on his shoulders to steady herself. His fingers squeezed her hip tightly and he kissed the top of her chest before he glanced over her shoulder towards Maverick.

"You called my wife?"

The shock was evident in Jake's voice, but it was the looks of the rest of the team that made him wince. He hadn't mentioned to any of them that he happened to be married, that knowledge was on a need to know basis and as his superior, Maverick was the only one who needed to know. For emergency situations like this if Jake ever got hurt or shot down or sent to hospital.

There was no way they could let him drive home and since he had been injured, Maverick knew it was best to call (Y/n) and let her know so she could come and pick him up.

"You got concussed and you won't be able to drive home. Yes, I called your missus. You're welcome."

Maverick placed his hand on his hip and tilted his head to one side. Once Jake was silenced with that one look, Maverick nodded to himself and turned to leave. He knew none of them would be doing any more exercises today and he was okay with that, they would call it a day and start again tomorrow.

"You're married?"

"You never mentioned you're married to such a stunning girl."

(Y/n) tilted her head to the right, figuring the man that said that must be Bradley, the one Jake said was close to Maverick. He had a raised brow and his lips quirked into a smile beneath his moustache while both arms folded tightly over his chest.

She could feel the glares Jake was sending towards Bradley, squinting and glaring over in his direction before he looked back up at his wife.

With a quiet groan, Jake moved his hands from (Y/n)'s hips so he could bind his arms tightly around her waist. His hands feathered up and down her back and he pushed forward until his lips attached to her exposed chest just beneath her collar bone.

"Why didn't you tell us?"

"Why did you need to know?" He countered, smirking tiredly against (Y/n)'s chest and he twisted his head so the left side of his face could press down against her skin. His cheek nuzled into her chest and he looked over at the team, watching the blush that rose to Bob's face that tilted down to look at his shoes and the way Phoenix rubbed the back of her neck bashfully.

He hadn't told them because it wasn't their business, they didn't need to know. He was in love, he was head over heels in love with his wife and in Jake's eyes, she was his little secret.

He didn't want the team teasing him or asking about her or trying to make jokes that he was tied down. He had dealt with that in the past with other people he worked with and he didn't like it. He smiled when people flirted with him in bars, but he kindly turned every one of them down and didn't let them get too close. (Y/n) was the reason why.

Sometimes it felt safer to keep (Y/n) as his little secret. What they did was dangerous, they had all lost friends in this job and it was hard to bring friends and family into this life. Jake didn't know if introducing (Y/n) to his team would be too much.

For him, it felt better to keep work and home life separate.

With a sigh, Jake lifted his cheek from (Y/n)'s chest, his lips forming a thin line as he stared up at her despite the headache that was swirling around behind his eyes. He scanned his eyes around the team who were all watching on eagerly like this was their favourite tv soap.

"Darlin', this is the dagger squad," Jake waved his hand around, muttering their call signs to which (Y/n) nodded earnestly. "Guys, this is my wife, (Y/n)."

"Nice to meet you all, even under strange circumstances," (Y/n) quirked a brow when Bob tipped his head down with his hands clasped tightly behind his back. Clearly he felt guilty for the accident and (Y/n) was sure she heard him mutter a soft 'sorry again' clearly directed towards Jake.

He wasn't going to hold a grudge. It had been an accident and a few stitches was much better than some of the injuries he'd gotten on this job. But he would be holding this over them in the future and he knew he had earned himself a few free beers down at the Hard Deck for this.

"How bad is it then?"

Jake felt shockwaves coursing through his blood when (Y/n)'s hands moved from his shoulders to gently cup his face in her hands.

He loved the feeling of her thumbs brushing across his cheekbones just beneath his eyes and the way her fingertips tapped behind the tip of his jaw near his ears. His lips curved into a smile, despite the aching in his temple that had gone down a little when he took the aspirin and painkillers he was given.

His eyes squinted up at his wife whose lips curved into a pouting smile while her head tilted to the side, inspecting the wound on his temple.

All the blood had been cleaned from Jake's face and neck and his head had been X-rayed and dabbed with anticeptic, all he needed now was stitches.

"What am I gonna do with you?" (Y/n) murmured softly while she tilted Jake's head down in her hands so she could pepper kisses against the middle of his temple which no doubt would be aching. She didn't want to touch or go too near the wound, she knew even a light touch was going to hurt and she didn't want to hurt him. But he leaned into her touch and groaned, tightening his arms around her waist while his hands slid further down her back.

"I can think of a few things."

"I don't think I wanna see that." Coyote ran a hand down his face and patted Bradley's chest before he began to walk. He would see what Maverick wanted them to do, whether they were all getting the afternoon off or just Jake. He murmured a soft "Nice to meet you, Mrs Seresin." And laid a hand on (Y/n)'s shoulder as he passed her.

"Yeah, us neither. Sorry again, Hangman, we'll owe you a few rounds when your back in action." Phoenix waved her hand towards Jake and dipped her head before she headed out with Bob following in her wake.

He uttered a soft "Nice to see you, sorry Hangman." before he followed Phoenix, silently praying they wouldn't have to finish the last twenty six push ups they had skipped when they followed Maverick and (Y/n) down here to the medic bay.

"Well, you look like your in good hands, so I'll catch up with you later. Maybe we'll see you soon, Mrs Hangman."

Once Bradley disappeared, (Y/n) managed to untangle herself from her husband's arms, causing him to grunt and pout dramatically. His hands reached out for her but she didn't move far. She stepped out from between his legs and moved to stand on his left side near the end of the bed he was perched on. Her arm looped around his back and her hand gave his shoulder a squeeze while she kissed the good side of his temple.

"When can I take him home?"

"I'll just do the stitches and then he's all yours."

Jake couldn't hide the grimace that flooded his face when he saw the needle and thread. He didn't like the inconvenience of stitches. His eyes briefly glanced up at (Y/n) before he shimmied round on the seat so his back was towards her. And he slowly reclined his head until the back of his head was settled down on (Y/n)'s shoulder.

He did his best to keep his head steady and his eyes fell closed when he saw an injection needle coming close. The numbing agent to make the stitches more bearable.

A low whistle passed his lips and when (Y/n)'s free hand curled over his thigh, Jake reached down and curled his hand over hers. He squeezed tight and tried to take slow, deep breaths when the needle finally started puncturing through his skin. It didn't exactly hurt, but he felt a sharp sting and each time the thread was pulled tight, Jake could feel his brow lifting as the skin was dragged back together.

Six stitches later and (Y/n) could barely feel her hand from how tightly Jake was squeezing it. She leaned her head down and kissed the top of his head, nudging her nose against his soft wavy hair as Jake finally opened his eyes.

"You're good to go with a mild concussion, Seresin. No flying for twenty-four hours, and if you go any higher than G7, I'll need to see you back here for a check over."

"Copy that."

"Thank you for patching him up."

When Jake hopped up from the bed, (Y/n) moved her arm lower to secure around his waist and she pressed a quick kiss to the side of his jaw which caused his lips to pull into a wide grin. He draped his arm over her shoulders, feeling much better than he did earlier.

The last thing he wanted to do was lean on (Y/n) and have her dragging him out of here like the guys had heaved him in earlier. He could walk on his own two feet again.

"That's going to leave a scar." (Y/n) murmured softly, reaching her left hand up to graze her fingers over his brow just beneath the row of navy blue stitches on his temple. It wasn't going to leave a dent or a prominent, deep line, but it would leave a faint streak of white like a dash of paint across his skin.

She pressed another kiss to Jake's jaw until he tilted his head down and captured her lips in a soft, burning kiss instead. "I know," He muttered softly against her lips, kissing her again and again as they walked as slow as possible out of the base.

"But I know you love my war wounds."

#imagine #jake hangman fic #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun hangman #hangman x reader #hangman imagine #jake hangman seresin #top gun fanfiction #top gun maverick

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eu-nicola · 2 months ago

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one night part 2

summary: one night with Max left a problem that you didn't talk to him about

warnings: nothing i think

word counter: 9788

author’s note: english is not my first language

tags: @seasonswinter @spngirl05 @seonghwaexile @sleutherclaw @hc-dutch @96mcobo @g3org1al33 @rawr-123s-stuff @callsignwidow @mid5nights @htpssgavi

After that first dinner and walk, Max became a constant presence in your life again, as if time hadn't passed and everything could be as simple as before. At first, you told yourself it was nothing, just chance encounters between two old friends who had met again after a long time. But, with every message that arrived on your phone, with every offer of coffee, a walk or even help with shopping for the baby, his presence slowly began to integrate into your daily routine.

Mornings, which used to be quiet and lonely, were filled with unexpected visitors. Max would appear with two coffees in hand, as if he had memorized your schedule and knew exactly when you needed him. Sometimes, you would find him waiting for you outside the store where you had spent the last half hour choosing clothes for the baby, with a smile that seemed to light up everything.

The days passed between small shared activities. Walks along the port of Monaco, strolls through the cobblestone streets of the old town, even visits to shops specialising in baby things, where he seemed to move with unexpected ease, commenting on how nice this or that would be. In those moments, everything seemed easy, almost natural, as if he had always been there, as if he had never left.

At first, you refused to think about what that meant. You didn't want to analyse it. It was easier to go with the flow, to enjoy the company without questioning it too much. However, the more time you spent with him, the more you began to notice the small changes around you.

The time you used to spend by yourself was filled with his presence. The moments of solitude in which you used to think about your baby's future were now coloured by his voice, his gestures, his laughter on those night walks in which the silence between you became comfortable, but charged with a tension that you both pretended not to notice.

At the same time, the closeness began to awaken something in you, something you had tried to bury since that night when everything changed. Every time his eyes fell on you, every time his attention focused on your pregnancy, a part of you was torn between the need to protect that secret and the almost uncontrollable desire to tell him the truth.

But you resisted. You knew you shouldn't let the illusion grow. He had a life, a stable relationship. You didn't want to be the person to tear that down, even inadvertently.

Despite your efforts to maintain an emotional distance, there were times when you found it impossible to ignore how easy it was to be with him. Max had become a constant. He was there in the small moments and the big ones, offering you support without you having to ask for it, reminding you, unintentionally, of what once was and what, in a different world, could have been.

However, as the days went by, you began to notice a change in him as well. There was something in his gaze, a mix of nostalgia and curiosity, as if he was looking for something in you that he couldn't quite find. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but it was there, beating in every encounter, in every gesture, in every word you shared.

And although you tried to convince yourself that everything was temporary, that he would soon realize that he had to return completely to his life, you couldn't help but wonder how long that fragile routine could hold up before something, or someone, broke it completely.

During those days between coffees and walks, the specific day arrived when you had decided to start decorating the baby's room. You wanted it to be a reflection of you, of your story, of everything you loved and that you would one day share with your son. And Max was not far behind.

Max appeared just as you began to move boxes and unpack small objects that you had been accumulating in the last few months. Without even asking you, he took off his jacket, rolled up his shirt sleeves, and started helping you. “You don’t have to,” you wanted to tell him, but he was already there, moving furniture, opening cans of paint, and asking where you wanted to put everything.

The room, which until then had been an empty room with white walls and a light wooden floor, slowly began to transform into something warmer, more personal. You had chosen soft shades of blue, a mix between the clear sky and the calm sea, a palette that reminded you of freedom and speed, of your love for cars, that same love that had been with you since childhood.

Max helped you measure the walls, choose where to hang the pictures of small classic cars you had bought at a local store, and even offered to assemble the crib, a piece of light wood that you had chosen for its simplicity and elegance.

“Are you sure you want everything to revolve around cars?” he asked you at one point, with an amused smile as he held up a small mobile with figures of tiny cars and stars.

“Completely sure,” you replied, also smiling. To you, there was nothing more symbolic than that. Cars represented movement, speed, freedom… everything you hoped your son would find in his life.

Hours passed between laughter, conversation and work. Max seemed to enjoy the process as much as you did, even suggesting ideas you would never have considered. It was his idea to put up a bookshelf shaped like a racetrack for the children’s books you had already started collecting. And he was also the one who insisted on putting down a dark blue rug with details of racetracks, which fit perfectly with the theme of the room.

As the afternoon progressed, the room began to take shape. The crib was in the center, next to a white dresser in which you had already started to store small clothes and blankets. On the main wall, you placed a mural of a starry sky, with a racing car crossing the horizon, something that Max had suggested when he saw your sketches.

“It’s perfect,” you said quietly, looking at the final result. The room was no longer just a room; it was a space filled with life, with dreams, with promises for the future.

Max was silent for a moment, standing next to you, looking around the room with an expression that was a mix of pride and something else, something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His eyes scanned every corner, as if he were trying to memorize it, as if that place meant something more to him than he was willing to admit.

“It’ll be fine,” he finally murmured, breaking the silence. “All this… being a mother. I can tell you’re ready now.”

His words made your chest tighten. You weren’t sure if you really were, but hearing that from someone who knew you so well, who had been by your side through so many important moments, gave you a sense of calm, that maybe, just maybe, everything would work out.

The afternoon began to turn into night, and as you gathered up your tools and cleaned up the last traces of paint, you realized how natural it all felt. As if it had always been this way, as if Max had always been by your side to help you build something bigger than yourself.

But you knew that the reality was more complicated. That, as much as you both enjoyed those small moments shared, there was a latent truth between you, a truth that would one day have to come to light. For now, however, you allowed yourself to enjoy the moment, the warmth that filled the room and Max's constant presence.

And although everything seemed to be peaceful for both of you, in Max's case it wasn't like that. The change didn't happen overnight, but Kelly, with her keen intuition, began to notice Max's absence from home more often than usual. At first, she didn't give it much importance. Max had always had a busy schedule, between meetings, events and commitments related to his career. But this time, something was different.

The “meetings” outside the house began to become more constant. It wasn’t just about professional commitments anymore. There were nights when he came back late, with a lame excuse, a quick smile, and a distracted kiss.

“Max, meeting again?” she asked one night, her tone casual but her eyes attentive as she watched him adjust his watch in front of the mirror.

“Yeah, nothing important. Just a couple of things pending with the sponsors,” he answered, without looking up. The excuse came out too easily, as if he had already prepared it.

Kelly nodded slowly, but her eyes followed him as he collected his keys and walked out the door. She knew something didn’t fit. Work meetings usually happened during the day, not at this time.

The days continued, and with them, the distance between them became more evident. Max was no longer spending as much time at home, and when he was, he seemed distracted, his attention divided between her, Kelly's stepdaughter, and something or someone else that Kelly couldn't see but felt more and more intensely.

One night, after Max came home late again, the inevitable argument erupted in the kitchen, where silence used to be their refuge but had now become a battleground.

“What’s going on, Max?” Kelly asked, her voice firm, though she tried to remain calm. She was leaning against the edge of the counter, her arms crossed and her gaze fixed on him.

Max, surprised by the direct confrontation, looked up from his phone, where he had been absentmindedly checking messages. “What do you mean? Nothing’s wrong.”

“Don’t lie to me. You’re going out more and more often, you’re late, and your excuses don’t make sense. Are these really “meetings”? Because it doesn’t seem like it.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in a gesture that betrayed his discomfort. “You’re overreacting. You know how it is. There are always things to be resolved.”

“There have always been things to be resolved, but you’ve never been so… absent. You’re not even here when you’re home, Max.” You're distant. Is there something you're not telling me?

The words hung in the air, charged with a tension that Max tried to dispel with a tired smile.

"You're imagining things. There's nothing more."

But she wasn't convinced. The arguments began to become more frequent, small daily battles that undermined the relationship. Kelly watched him closely, every look, every gesture, looking for answers that he wasn't willing to give her.

Meanwhile, Max continued to spend more and more time with you. The baby's room was almost finished, and casual walks had become common. The connection they shared had strengthened, as if the months of distance had never existed. For Max, those moments were a respite from the tension he felt at home, a refuge where things seemed simpler, more real.

Kelly, however, was not oblivious to those changes. She knew something was happening, and although she had no concrete proof, she could feel it in every fiber of her being. Suspicion became a constant presence, a shadow that accompanied her during the day and kept her awake at night.

One evening, while Max was out, Kelly checked his phone. It wasn’t something she usually did, but the uncertainty was consuming her. She found no compromising messages, but something that caught her attention: a couple of recent map searches, all directed to the same address… yours.

Kelly slowly closed the phone, her mind racing. She had no clear confirmation, but something inside her clicked. She knew there was something more between Max and you.

That night, when Max returned, she didn’t say anything. She watched him silently, trying to read him, looking for a sign that would confirm her suspicions. But he, as always, was calm, as if everything was under control.

Kelly wasn’t one to give up easily. She knew time would give her the answer she was looking for.

Days later, the sky had turned gray early in the morning, and the rain fell with a calm persistence, hitting the windows of your house. The sound was almost soothing, a constant accompaniment as you and Max worked on the final details of the baby's room. The room was almost finished, soft blue tones filled the space, and car-inspired decorations hung precisely on the walls.

It had been your idea to include a small shelf with miniature cars, a subtle reference to the passion you both shared for speed and racing. He had brought some from his personal collection, something you hadn't expected but that excited you more than you wanted to admit.

“This one will be perfect here,” Max commented, holding up a silver car that gleamed under the soft lamplight.

“Yeah… perfect,” you murmured, your attention more on him than on the shelf.

It was inevitable. There was something about him, the way his hands moved with precision as he adjusted every detail, that caught you. And the worst of all was the closeness, the familiarity that had blossomed again between the two of you. It felt like it hadn’t been months since you were last like this: comfortable, in sync, like two puzzle pieces that fit together perfectly.

Max reached over to place the car on the shelf, right next to your hand. His fingers brushed yours, barely a touch, but enough for an electric current to run through your skin. It was a brief touch, insignificant to anyone who had seen it, but to you, it was so much more than that.

You looked up, meeting his blue eyes. They were close, too close. You could see the intensity in them, that glow that had always captured you and now seemed stronger than ever. The space between you was filled with a palpable tension, one that made the air in the room seem thicker.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. The silence became complicit, letting the rain be the only sound that filled the room. Max's breathing mixed with yours, and you could feel the heat of his body so close to yours.

One more step.

You knew that if either of you took one more step, if you crossed that thin line that separated you, there would be no turning back. And part of you wanted it. You wanted to lose yourself in that moment, to let everything else disappear.

Max looked down, watching your lips for a fraction of a second. It was subtle, but you noticed it. You felt your heart race, your hands tremble slightly as you tried to keep yourself busy with the cars on the shelf.

“Max…” you murmured, breaking the silence. You weren’t sure what you were going to say, but you needed to say something, anything to cut that tension before it was too late.

“I’m sorry,” he said, taking a step back, though his voice sounded hesitant, like a part of him didn’t want to walk away. His eyes didn’t leave yours.

“It’s okay,” you replied, forcing a smile that didn’t reach your eyes. It wasn’t okay. Nothing was okay, because you both knew what had happened in that instant. What had almost happened.

You focused back on the cars, lining them up perfectly on the shelf, though your hands were shaking. You felt Max’s gaze on you, like he was waiting for something more, like there was still a part of him that was resisting leaving the room.

“Maybe I should go,” he finally said, his voice low, almost a whisper.

You nodded without looking at him, because you knew that if you did, if you looked into his eyes one more time, all that self-control you had managed to muster would crumble. “Yeah… maybe that’s for the best.”

Max stayed a few more seconds, silent, before finally walking towards the door. You heard him open it, the sound of the rain intensifying for a moment before he closed it behind him.

And when you were left alone, with the rain as your only company, you allowed yourself to breathe. A deep, shaky breath, as if you had been holding your breath all this time. You knew that things were getting more complicated than you had anticipated.

When Max arrived home the air still smelled of rain, and a few drops remained on his jacket as he closed the door carefully, trying not to make noise. He didn’t want another argument. Lately, things with Kelly had been tense. Too much. Every little absence, every exit, seemed to become the trigger for a new fight. And though he insisted that everything was under control, she knew things were far from okay.

Kelly sat on the couch, her gaze fixed on her cell phone, but Max knew immediately that she was waiting. She always did. She waited for him to arrive, as if every night was a test, a chance to confirm her suspicions. Hearing the click of the door, she raised her head and watched him.

“You’re late again,” she said, not raising her voice too much, but with that tone that Max knew well. It was the calm before the storm.

“Yeah, I was just fixing some stuff,” he replied, taking off his jacket and leaving it on a nearby chair. He walked into the kitchen, looking for something to drink, any excuse not to stay still under that scrutinizing gaze.

“What stuff?” Kelly insisted, putting his phone aside and crossing his arms.

“Just… some pending stuff with a friend,” he said, trying to sound casual. But he knew he wouldn’t succeed. Kelly always had a way of seeing beyond, of noticing when something didn’t fit.

The silence stretched for a few seconds, and Max felt the air become thicker. Finally, Kelly got up from the couch and walked towards him with the phone in her hand.

“A friend?” she repeated, her tone now tinged with disbelief. Her blue eyes were fixed on him, but this time not with affection, but with a mix of distrust and something deeper, something Max wasn’t sure he wanted to identify. She picked up her phone, screen lit, and showed it to him.

Max felt his stomach tighten at the sight of the image on the screen. It wasn’t a compromising photo, there was nothing objectively wrong with it. It was a simple snapshot, taken without much thought, during one of the days he’d spent helping you decorate the baby’s room. In the picture, there was you, in profile, placing some small cars on the shelf while he watched from the background. The soft light of dusk came through the window, giving the scene an unexpected warmth.

“What’s this, Max?” Kelly asked, her voice firm but restrained, as if she was trying to remain calm.

Max took a breath. “It’s just a photo. It doesn’t mean anything. I was helping a friend.”

“The one from the other day?” he repeated, raising an eyebrow. His gaze grew sharper. “Since when do you spend so much time with that ‘friend’? Since when do you stay up late helping her?”

Max closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the situation crumble in front of him. “It’s not what you think, Kelly. I was just helping with her baby’s room.”

“The baby?” The word seemed to hang in the air. Kelly took a step back, looking at him with a mix of surprise and suspicion. “Why do you care so much about that baby, Max? Why are you so involved?”

Max ran a hand through his hair, sensing that the conversation was taking a dangerous turn. “Because she’s someone who was important to me… and still is. I’ve known her since we were kids, that’s all.”

Kelly watched him in silence for a few seconds, her gaze searching for something in his eyes, some sign, some hidden truth. Finally, she put the phone down on the table with a thud.

“You’re not telling me everything,” she stated, her voice now laden with a certainty that made him feel uncomfortable. “There’s something else. I know.”

Max tried to get closer, but she took a step back, creating a physical distance that seemed to symbolize something much deeper.

“There’s nothing more,” she insisted, but even to him it sounded weak. He knew the seed of mistrust had already been planted, and was now beginning to take root.

She looked at him for a moment longer, and then, without saying anything, she turned and walked out of the room, leaving Max alone, the rain still pattering softly against the windows.

She slumped into a chair, resting her elbows on her knees and rubbing her temples with her hands. He knew this was just the beginning. The tension in his relationship with Kelly had been building for weeks, and now, with that photo, it had all come crashing down.

And the worst thing was, he couldn’t blame her. Because, deep down, Max knew his feelings for you weren’t as innocent as he’d wanted her to believe. And even though he hadn’t crossed that line, he was getting closer. Too close.

The next afternoon you were in your apartment, organizing some things in the baby's room, when your phone vibrated on the nightstand. It was a text from Max:

"Can I see you? I need to talk to you."

You knew something wasn’t right. You had felt the tension growing over the past few weeks. The outings, the talks, the closeness they had regained… it had all been an escape for both of them, a bubble in which the outside world didn’t exist. But reality always finds a way to break in.

You answered with a simple “yes” and minutes later, Max was knocking on your door. When you opened it, you found him with a tired face, his eyes duller than usual and his hands in the pockets of his jacket. He wasn’t the confident and serene Max you knew, but someone who was struggling with something he couldn’t control.

“Come in,” you said softly, stepping aside to let him in.

Max crossed the threshold, but didn’t move beyond the hall. He stood, looking around the room as if looking for something to give him peace, something that could sort out the chaos inside him. You closed the door and turned to him, waiting for him to speak.

“Kelly and I…” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Things aren’t okay.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but still, hearing those words made your chest clench. You knew your presence had contributed to that tension, even though you didn’t mean to. Max ran a hand through his hair, a gesture he made when he was nervous.

“She confronted me about a picture… one of the times I was here,” he continued, looking at you with a mix of frustration and sadness. “It was nothing, you know. But for her it was enough. She thinks there’s something more.”

You crossed your arms, leaning against the door frame. You had waited for this moment, and now that it was here, you felt like everything was falling apart. You couldn’t allow yourself to be the cause of any more problems in her life. You couldn’t allow this situation to continue to progress.

“Max…” you began, your voice soft but firm. “This isn’t working.”

He frowned, taking a step towards you. “What do you mean?”

You took a deep breath, searching for the right words. “I mean… we should stop seeing each other. At least for a while.”

Max looked at you as if he hadn’t heard right, as if your words didn’t make sense. “Stop seeing each other? Why? We haven’t done anything wrong. I’m just here to help you.”

“I know,” you admitted, feeling the weight of each word. “But your relationship with Kelly is on the verge of collapse, Max. And my presence isn’t helping. I can’t be the reason why everything in your life falls apart.”

“You’re not the reason,” he replied quickly, almost as if he wanted to convince you as much as himself. “What’s going on with Kelly is… complicated. But it’s not your fault.”

His eyes searched yours, as if with one look he could change your mind. But you had already made up your mind. You couldn’t go on like this. You couldn’t be the cause of more pain, not for him, not for yourself.

“Max, you need space to sort out your life,” you said, standing your ground. “We can’t just keep going like nothing’s happening. Not when everything around you is falling apart.”

For a moment, it looked like he was going to insist, like he was going to find a reason to stay. But something in your gaze, in the firmness of your voice, stopped him. His shoulders slumped slightly, as if the weight of reality had finally caught up with him.

“I don’t want to lose you again,” he murmured, his voice heavy with emotion.

You felt your heart clench. You didn’t want to lose him either, but you knew it was for the best. For him. For you. For the baby.

“You’re not going to lose me,” you assured him, a small lump in your throat. “We just… need time. To think. To heal.”

Max nodded slowly, though his eyes reflected the internal battle he was fighting. He didn’t say anything else, just staring at you for a few more seconds, as if he wanted to burn your face into his memory.

Finally, he turned to the door. Before he walked out, he paused, one hand on the knob.

“If you ever need anything… I’ll be here,” he said, not looking at you.

“I know,” you replied softly.

And then, Max was gone, leaving behind him a feeling of emptiness that filled the entire space. You stood in the doorway, listening to the echo of the door closing, feeling the silence envelop you.

You leaned against the wall, closing your eyes for a moment. You knew you had made the right decision. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

The weeks after your separation from Max were a whirlwind of emotions and silences. You had tried to keep yourself busy, focusing on the final preparations for the baby’s arrival and avoiding thinking about everything you had left behind. Every corner of your house seemed to be filled with recent memories: his laughter, his hands helping you hang the blue curtains in the baby’s room, the conversations you shared late at night while the world slept. But now, everything was quiet. Too quiet.

Then, one cold morning, the world you had been rebuilding changed forever.

You had been experiencing discomfort throughout the night, but you ignored it, thinking it was just signs of the end of pregnancy. You had read that many women experienced false alarms before the actual moment. However, when the pain became more intense and frequent, you knew it was time.

You took a deep breath, sitting on the edge of the bed, as the clock read 4:12 a.m. Your suitcase was packed, weeks in advance, in a corner of the room. You grabbed your phone with shaking hands and called your mother. Her voice, always calm, immediately calmed you down.

“I’m on my way,” she said with a firmness that made you feel like everything would be okay.

In less than half an hour, she and your father arrived to take you to the hospital. The streets of Monaco were deserted, the glow of the lights reflecting off the wet pavement from the nighttime drizzle. Everything seemed unreal, like the world was on pause as you headed into one of the most important moments of your life.

The hours at the hospital were a mix of anxiety, pain, and anticipation. Your best friend arrived shortly after and stayed by your side, holding your hand when the pain was unbearable. Doctors and nurses came and went, their faces kind but focused. You felt each contraction like a wave, bringing you closer and closer to the moment you would meet your son.

Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, you heard the first cry.

A loud, clear, life-filled cry. You gasped, tears filling your eyes as you looked at the little being who had just entered the world. Your son. Miles Emilian.

“He’s a healthy boy,” the doctor informed you with a smile as they placed the baby in your arms.

You looked at him, and in that instant, everything else disappeared. His small, pink face, his tiny hands clenched into a fist, his half-closed eyes that seemed to seek you out. You felt an immediate, deep connection, as if your whole life had been destined for this moment.

“Hello, little one,” you whispered in a broken voice, caressing his soft cheek. “Welcome.”

Your mother, at your side, couldn’t hold back her tears. Your father, always stoic, had his eyes shining with emotion. Your best friend took a photo, but not to publish it, but to keep it as an intimate memory of that moment.

The next few days in the hospital were a whirlwind of doctor visits, check-ups, and learning how to care for Miles. Your mother was with you the whole time, guiding you with the experience that only the years could give. Camille spent the afternoons with you, helping you plan how you would organize your new life.

You knew that this moment would change everything. Miles would become the center of your world, and you were prepared to face it alone, at least for now. You didn’t want anyone else to know. You didn’t want awkward questions, curious glances, or the inevitable murmur that would rise in Monaco if people found out you’d fathered a child without a known father figure.

You’d decided to keep this between those who truly mattered: your parents and Camille. The only family you needed right now.

One afternoon, as you cradled Miles in your arms in the room lit by the soft light of dusk, you thought about everything you’d gone through to get here. About Max, about what you’d shared, and how things had changed. You wondered if he would ever suspect the truth. But you shook your head. It wasn’t the time to think about that. Now, only Miles mattered.

You watched him sleep, his little chest rising and falling rhythmically, and you knew you had made the right choice.

This little being was your life now. Your greatest adventure. Your greatest love.

A few weeks after Miles was born, life was still slowly falling into place. You were at home, surrounded by the smell of freshly washed bottles and diapers, your head still reeling from the experience of being a first-time mother. Every day brought something new: Miles’ first bath, the first night he managed to sleep for two hours straight, and the first smile that barely appeared on his small, pink face.

Sometimes, as you cradled him in your arms, you wondered if you had done the right thing by keeping his existence a secret. But you quickly dismissed those thoughts. You had done it for everyone’s peace of mind, especially Max’s. You couldn’t afford to be another complication in his world.

As you sank into that bubble of motherhood, away from you, something was about to change.

Max was in his apartment, enjoying a quiet moment after an afternoon full of commitments. Kelly was out with his daughter, and he was taking advantage of that time to relax, answer some pending messages and review the preparations for his next race. He had tried to concentrate, but his mind kept coming back to you. Since you had decided to distance yourself, something inside him had been put on hold. A strange feeling that something important was being hidden from him.

Then, the phone rang.

It was Leo, a mutual friend of both of them. Max answered without thinking too much, imagining it would be a quick call about some event or meeting.

“Dude, how are you?” Leo greeted in his usual tone. “Are you still in Monaco? I heard that your life is pretty busy.”

“Yeah, you know, always running around.” Max smiled slightly, resting the phone on his ear while checking some emails. “What's new?”

“Nothing special… although, well, I found out something.”

Max arched an eyebrow, pushing the screen aside.

“Oh, yeah? What thing?”

Leo hesitated for a second, as if he wasn’t sure if he should say it. But in the end, curiosity won out.

“It’s about… Y/n. I heard she finally had her baby.”

Max’s heart skipped a beat.

“What?”

“Yeah, she had it a few days ago. I thought you knew.” Leo sounded confused. “They said the baby is beautiful… and everything went well. His name is Miles Emilian.”

Max fell silent, processing the information. You hadn’t mentioned anything. You hadn’t told him you’d already given birth.

“Are you sure?” he asked, trying to stay calm.

“Totally. The funny thing is… no one knows much about the father. Some people say the baby is from a night you never mentioned afterward, before you moved to London.” Leo laughed softly. “Maybe someone who preferred not to get involved.”

The words hung in the air, and something clicked in Max’s mind. A night you never mentioned. A night where things between you changed forever.

“Leo, thank you. I have to go.”

Max hung up before he heard a reply, his mind racing. Could it be possible? He’d been with you that night, and then… you walked away. And now, there was a baby. A baby you never talked about.

Without a second thought, Max walked out of his apartment, his heart pounding. He knew that if he wanted answers, he couldn’t go to you. You were too protective, too secretive. But your mother… she might know something.

He drove quickly to your parents’ house. The light rain was beginning to fall, covering the streets of Monaco with a thin layer of water. When he arrived, he knocked on the door harder than he intended. Anxiety and fear mixed within him.

It was your mother who opened it, surprised to see Max in the doorway.

“Max… what are you doing here?” she asked in a worried voice.

“I need to talk to you,” he said, bluntly. “It’s important.”

Your mother invited him in, closing the door behind him. Max walked into the living room, his mind full of questions and possibilities. He turned to her, his blue eyes shining brightly.

“I know she had the baby,” he said directly, without preamble. “And I need to know the truth. Is it mine?”

Your mother looked at him in surprise, but also with a look of guilt that she couldn’t hide.

“Max…”

“Please,” he interrupted her, his voice almost pleading. “I can’t go on without knowing.”

She sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. She had tried to protect you, but she knew this moment would come sooner or later.

“Yes, Max. Miles is your son.”

The words hit Max like a wave, stealing his breath. He stood still, taking in what he had just heard. He was a father. You had kept something so big, so important from him.

“Why didn’t she tell me?” he asked in a whisper, his eyes searching for answers.

“She thought it was for the best. She didn’t want to complicate your life… knowing you already had so much going on.”

Max clenched his fists, feeling a mix of anger, sadness, and confusion. He didn’t know what he would do now, but one thing was certain: he couldn’t walk away anymore. Miles was his son, and he would do everything in his power to be in his life.

From the moment he left your parents’ house, Max couldn’t think of anything but you. The revelation left him devastated, furious, and most of all, betrayed. How could you hide something so important from him? He had been willing to support you, to be present in your life, but he never imagined that behind that distance there was a secret that would change everything.

The car moved quickly through the streets of Monaco, crossing avenues wet from the recent rain. Night had fallen, and the city lights were reflected in the puddles that covered the asphalt. Max barely noticed the journey; his mind was focused on one thing: facing you.

When he arrived at your house, he didn't hesitate. He parked the car abruptly, got out in the light rain, and quickly climbed the stairs until he reached the door of your apartment. His heart was pounding, a mix of adrenaline, pain, and rage. He knocked hard on the door, almost as if demanding an immediate response.

Inside, you were rocking Miles in your arms, trying to calm him down after a long day. The sound of knocking on the door made you jump. You looked towards the entrance, out the window, a feeling of unease running through your body. You saw it.

With your heart racing, you left Miles in his crib and walked to the door. When you opened it, there was Max, soaked by the rain, his hair plastered to his forehead, his eyes lit up by a mix of fury and anguish.

"Max..." you whispered, but he didn't let you continue.

"How could you?" he said, his voice low but full of tension. He took a step forward, forcing you to step back into the apartment. He closed the door behind him without taking his eyes off you. “How could you hide from me that you had a son?”

The words fell like a slab on you. You knew this moment would come, but you never thought it would be like this, so sudden, so emotionally charged.

“Max, I…”

“No!” he interrupted you, raising a hand to stop any explanation. “I don’t want excuses. I want the truth.”

You took a deep breath, trying to stay calm as tears began to burn in your eyes.

“I thought I was doing the right thing…” you murmured, your voice breaking. “I thought it would be better for you. You have a life, Max. You have Kelly, her daughter, your career… I didn’t want to complicate things for you.”

He laughed, but it was a bitter laugh, full of disbelief.

“Better for me?” he repeated, taking a step closer to you. “You don’t think I had the right to decide that? He’s my son! He had the right to be here from the beginning, to see you go through all of this, to know him…”

You closed your eyes, feeling the weight of his words. You knew he was right, but you also knew you had acted with your heart, believing you were protecting him.

“I didn’t want you to feel trapped,” you said quietly, looking into his eyes for the first time. “I didn’t want you to feel forced to be here.”

Max stared at you, and for a moment, the fury in his eyes mixed with something deeper, something more painful.

“You would never have caught me,” he whispered. “Because I would have been here. I wanted to be here… with you.”

The silence stretched between the two of you, thick and charged with unresolved emotions. You could feel the tension in the air, every unspoken word, every repressed feeling.

“Max… I just wanted to protect you.” —Tears began to run down your cheeks. —I never wanted to hurt you.

He ran a hand through his wet hair, trying to calm himself, but his chest kept rising and falling rapidly. Pain. That was what he felt. Pain for having missed the first moments of his son’s life, for not being there for you when you needed him most.

—You didn’t have to protect me —he said at last, his voice softer but still firm. —You were my friend. I was always willing to be there for you… and now, I want to be here for my son.

His words were a promise, but also a declaration of intent. No matter what happened, no matter how complicated it was, Max wasn’t going to disappear from his son’s life.

You stood there in silence, heart pounding, knowing this was the point of no return. Max was here, and he wasn’t going to leave.

“He’s asleep,” you whispered, breaking the silence. “Do you want to see him?”

Max nodded slowly, his eyes still shining with a mix of emotions. You led him over to where Miles was sleeping peacefully in his crib, wrapped in a blue blanket. Max walked over, watching the little boy with a gaze that combined love, wonder, and a silent sadness for all he’d missed.

Max stood there, standing over the crib, watching Miles with an intensity that made you hold your breath. For a few seconds, the world seemed to stop as he took in every detail of the sleeping little face.

Miles had soft, light hair, a small, upturned nose, and those rounded cheeks that still held the blush of a newborn. His small hands were relaxed, resting next to his face, completely oblivious to the storm of emotions his arrival had brought.

After a long silence, Max spoke, his voice low and heavy with emotion:

“He looks like me… when I was little.” An almost imperceptible smile curved his lips as his eyes remained fixed on his son.

You looked at him, and even though you had noticed it before, you were still amazed at how much Miles reflected his father. You nodded softly, your eyes filling with tears once again.

“Yes…” you whispered, your voice shaking. “He has your eyes… and that little wrinkle on his forehead when he frowns.”

Max let out a soft laugh, more of a sigh. He didn’t take his eyes off Miles, as if he were trying to memorize every feature, every little detail that had been taken from him during those first few weeks of life.

You stood by his side, watching the scene you had imagined so many times but feared would never happen. And then, guilt took hold of you again, so strong that you could barely breathe.

“Max…” you murmured, breaking the silence.

He looked up at you, his blue eyes filled with a mix of feelings you couldn’t quite decipher: pain, tenderness, confusion.

“I’m so sorry.” The words came out in a whisper, full of sincerity. “There is no excuse that justifies what I did. I took you away from something that was also yours, and I know I hurt you… I never wanted to do it, but I did, and I’m sorry… with all my heart.”

Max watched you in silence for a moment, his eyes searching yours, trying to understand the depth of your words.

“You thought you were doing the right thing, didn’t you?” he said finally, with unexpected calm.

You nodded, biting your lip to hold back your tears.

“I thought I was protecting you… and that I was protecting Miles too. But now I know I was wrong. I should have told you the truth from the start.”

Max sighed, running a hand over her face as she moved away from the crib a little, crossing her arms over her chest.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you right away…” she admitted honestly. “This… is a lot. But I want to try. For him.”

His words were a blow, but also a hope. You didn’t expect everything to be fixed in one night, but the fact that he was willing to try meant more than you could express.

“That’s all I can ask for…” you said quietly, with a mix of relief and sadness.

Max nodded, her gaze returning once more to the crib, where Miles shifted slightly, letting out a small sigh before settling back into deep sleep.

“He deserves us to be here.” “Both of you.” Max looked at you again, and this time, there was a determination in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before. “And I’m going to be here. No matter what happens, I’m his father, and I’m going to be there in his life.”

You stayed silent, letting his words sink in. He stood a moment longer by the crib, watching Miles as if the entire world revolved around that tiny being. Then, with a deep sigh, he moved away slightly and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms. You could see the conflict on his face: the internal struggle between the pain you had caused him and the decision he was about to make.

Finally, he spoke, his voice firm but tinged with vulnerability.

“I can’t keep living a lie.” His words were direct, almost like a whisper, but heavy with weight. He looked at you, his blue eyes holding yours with an intensity that made you hold your breath. “Kelly and I… it’s over.”

Your heart stopped for a second. You hadn’t expected that, not so soon, not under these circumstances. You gripped the edge of the table next to you, seeking some stability as you processed what he had just said.

“Max…” you started, but he held up a hand, stopping you.

“Let me finish.” He pushed away from the wall and took a couple of steps towards you. “I’ve been thinking about this for weeks. Even before I knew the truth about Miles. Kelly is a good person, but our relationship has been falling apart, and now I understand why.” He paused, his gaze darkening for a moment. “I can’t be with her while my heart is here… with you and our son.”

His words hit you like a storm. You had dreamed of this moment, but not under these conditions. You didn’t want to be the cause of a breakup, or the reason for her pain.

“Max, I don’t want you to make a hasty decision…” you said cautiously, your voice shaking. “I don’t want to be the reason you break up with Kelly. It’s your life, and I don’t want you to feel like you have to do this out of obligation.”

He shook his head, moving even closer, until he was just a step away.

“It’s not because I have to. It’s because I want to.” His voice was low but full of conviction. “I love you. I loved you before, even when things got complicated between us. And now, more than ever, I want to be here, with you. I want to be a father to Miles, and I want him to know that his parents love him and are in this together.”

Your eyes filled with tears again, this time from the mix of emotions overwhelming you: fear, relief, hope. You didn’t want to allow yourself to dream of a perfect future, but Max was offering it to you, even in the midst of all the confusion.

“But what if it doesn’t work out?” you asked in a small voice. “What if all this just makes things worse?”

Max moved a little closer, until his hand found yours. He held it firmly, as if he wanted to assure you that he wasn’t planning on letting go.

“I don’t know.” “He was honest, and that somehow reassured you. “But what I do know is that I don’t want to move forward without trying. I want to be a part of your life, Miles’, every step of the way.”

His words cut deep, but fear still resided in your chest. You knew that nothing would be easy, and that you would both have to work hard to repair the wounds and build something new. But at the same time, his determination and love were an anchor that kept you firm.

“Max.” You took a deep breath, looking at your joined hands. “If this is what you really want…”

He nodded, squeezing your hand gently.

“One step at a time,” he said, his lips curling into a small smile. “I’m still angry, though.”

The weight of the decision seemed to have lightened a little with those words. Max was willing to do whatever it took to be by your side, and you, for the first time in a long time, allowed yourself to believe that maybe, just maybe, you could have the family you’d always wanted.

After that, it wasn’t more than a week until Max told you. It was a quiet afternoon, one of those where the rain fell softly and the world seemed slower. You were sitting on the couch, with Miles asleep on your chest, his rhythmic and calm breathing filling the silence of the apartment. You had lit a vanilla-scented candle, trying to give your home a warmth that sometimes seemed elusive.

Max arrived as he did lately, unannounced but always welcome. He knocked on the door softly before entering, as if he knew that any loud sound could disrupt the peace that reigned in the small space. He found you there, with the baby in your arms, and a tired smile appeared on his face.

“I’m done with Kelly,” he said, his voice calm but firm, as if he were releasing a burden he had carried for too long.

You didn't say anything at first. You just nodded slowly, looking into his eyes that searched for a reaction in yours. You knew that moment would come, but now that it was here, you didn't feel the need to say much. You weren't going to keep getting involved in it. It was his life, his decision, and although you knew the situation was complex, you also understood that it wasn't your place to intervene more than necessary.

"Do you want to hold him?" you asked softly, changing the subject as you pointed at Miles, who was still sleeping peacefully.

Max nodded and approached with a gentleness that always surprised you. He took Miles in his arms as if he were the most fragile and precious thing he had ever held. The baby moved slightly, but didn't wake, settling against his father's chest naturally.

The next few days became a silent but comforting routine. Max began to spend more and more time with you and Miles, almost as if he had never been away. He would arrive in the mornings with coffee in hand and a bag of food or things he thought might help you: diapers, bottles, even toys that Miles was still too small to use.

You watched him transform before your eyes. Every day he spent with Miles, he showed you what a good father he was, even in those little details that you had previously underestimated. He would get up when the baby cried, rock him until he calmed down, and look at him with a mix of love and wonder that broke your heart.

One afternoon, while Max was on the floor playing with Miles—although the baby was just beginning to notice the toys in front of him—you stopped for a moment to watch them. Max was talking to him, although Miles only responded with laughter and babbling. It was a scene so simple, but so powerful, that you couldn't help but feel a pang of regret.

Why didn't you tell him before?

That question had become a constant shadow in your mind. You had your reasons, you knew. You thought you were protecting him, yourself, everyone. But now, watching Max give himself over to his son, you understood that you had stolen something priceless from him.

There was one night in particular that you couldn’t forget. Max was in the kitchen preparing a bottle while you cradled a restless Miles. When Max returned, he took the baby in his arms and whispered something to him, as he often did to calm him.

“You’re so strong, little one,” he said, with that look of tenderness that disarmed you every time.

You stayed silent, leaning against the bedroom door. You felt small, vulnerable. You had made a decision that had left him out of this for months. And even though he didn’t mention it, you knew that deep down it still hurt. It hurt you too.

One night, as Max said goodbye, he stopped at the door and looked at you for a long moment.

“Thank you for letting me be here,” he said softly.

“It’s your place, Max,” you replied sincerely, trying to hide the emotion in your voice. But you knew he could tell.

“I didn’t always feel that way,” he admitted, almost in a whisper, before he walked out.

As you closed the door behind him, you leaned against it, feeling the weight of his words. You knew you had a lot to make up for. But you also knew Max was willing to stay.

When racing resumed, so did the frenetic routine Max knew so well. Airports, photo shoots, interviews, team meetings… everything resumed as if time had been paused. But this time, something had changed. Max wasn’t the same driver who went out into the world a year ago. Now, he had a much more important reason to return home after each Grand Prix: Miles.

You, meanwhile, were adjusting to the new normal. But the nights were the hardest. Max had promised you he would be there, and he made daily calls from all over the world. He told you about training, team meetings, and how, despite everything, his thoughts were always with you and his son.

However, there was something in your heart that just didn’t quite fit. You had kept your pregnancy and birth private for so long, but now, you realized you couldn’t hide it anymore. You didn’t want Miles to grow up in the shadows.

It was a difficult decision, but after days of thinking about it, you decided it was time. One quiet afternoon, while Miles was sleeping in his crib, you grabbed your phone and opened the Instagram app. You looked through the photos you had taken since he was born: simple but meaningful moments, like his first smile or the way he slept peacefully in Max’s arms.

You picked a special photo: Miles, with his curious eyes and a smile that melted hearts, sitting on your lap while Max, behind you, held his little hand. It was the first photo that showed not only your baby, but also the life you had begun to build with his father.

The caption was simple but meaningful:

“Miles Emilian. The love of my life. Our adventure together is just beginning.”

You took a breath before posting it. You knew that once you did, there would be no turning back. The comments, the questions, the curious glances... it would all come with it. But you were ready.

The reaction was immediate. Your followers, family, friends... they all started commenting with messages full of love and surprise. They had suspected your absence, but now they understood everything. The words “congratulations,” “beautiful,” and heart emojis flooded your phone.

But what you didn't expect was that, within minutes of your post, Max did the same.

On his profile, he shared a different photo: Miles in his arms, both dressed in personalized racing jerseys, with the name “Verstappen” embroidered on the baby's back. The caption was short, direct, but full of meaning:

“Welcome to the world, Miles Emilian Verstappen. My son, my pride.”

The impact was instantaneous. The news spread throughout the motorsport world and beyond. Sports media, celebrity magazines, even his teammates and other drivers commented on the post. Some were shocked, others couldn’t believe it, but most of the messages were positive, congratulating Max on his new stage as a father.

That night, as you watched the avalanche of reactions on your social media, Max called you. His voice sounded different, more serene but also excited.

“It’s done,” he said, with a mix of relief and pride. “The world knows I have a son. That I have a family.”

You stayed silent for a moment, letting his words settle in your mind. There was something deeply liberating about that. No more secrets. No more hiding. Now, the entire world knew that Miles was his, that you and he shared something much deeper than a passing romance.

“Are you okay?” Max asked, his voice soft but concerned.

“I��m fine,” you replied, with a smile he could feel even through the phone. “Ready to start this life with you.”

That night, as you rocked Miles to sleep, you felt a calm you hadn’t experienced in a long time. You’d been through so much to get here: difficult decisions, secrets, fights, reconciliations. But now, with Max by your side and your son in your arms, you knew you were where you were meant to be.

Max returned a few days after his last race, and this time, when he walked through your door, he was no longer just the star driver or the man who had been an important part of your past. He was the father of your son, your partner, and the person you were ready to build a future with.

The three of you, together, ready to face whatever came.

#fanfic #oneshot #imagine #x reader #max verstappen x yn #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen fanfic #max x reader #max verstappen #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1

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entitled-fangirl · 6 months ago

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Cold.

Cregan Stark x southern wife!reader

Summary: the reader is not used to the cold, but does not wish to bother Cregan with something so small.

A/n: based on an ask!

Masterlist

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She shivered as she walked through the corridors of Winterfell.

It had been months. Why hadn't she acclimated yet?

Perhaps because as soon as she had, winter came upon them, dropping the temperatures drastically.

She pulled her cloak tighter around her as she moved through the castle.

It's ridiculous. Being this cold.

She wasn't sure how Cregan did it so well.

She knew in all honesty. All of Westeros teased that the North was made of colder things than snow.

She thought the opposite.

Cregan was quite a warm man.

She entered his study with a pause once she saw him deep in thought, practically slaving over the papers on his desk.

Without looking up, he waved her off, "Come back later."

A wave of disappointment washed over her. "Oh. Forgive me, my love."

His head shot up quickly with wide eyes, "Wait. I…" His eyes connected with hers, "I did not know it was you."

The disappointment faded suddenly at that.

"Please come sit with me."

She walked into the room, closing the door behind her. She rounded the desk to his side, her fingers grazing over the carefully crafted wooden desk. Her eyes stayed on the papers. "What's all this?"

He quickly found her hips through the cloak with his hands and pulled her to stand in between his legs, "Nothing I need a beauty like you to worry about."

She smiled and continued to her studying of the papers, "You'll find a have quite a mind to match the beauty."

He grinned, "Oh, trust me. I know." His face fell a bit as he focused on her hips, her entire body shivering. "Cold?"

She finally looked to him, "Hmm?"

He bit the inside of his cheek, clearly concerned, "I asked if you're cold."

She hummed and shook her head, "No. 'M fine."

A crease between his eyebrows formed, "You're lying."

Her eyes widened just a bit. "I assure you, I'm not."

"You're shivering."

She had nothing to defend that. He was right.

"If you were cold, why have you not said anything?"

She scoffed, "I am not going to ask the Lord of the North for something so menial as a warm blanket."

He immediately stood at that. His face was so close as he stood that their lips could have brushed. He stood to full height and she had to look up a bit to see him. "Menial?" His tone was sharper than before.

"Yes."

He shook his head, "That's not menial." His fingers moved up to his cloak to begin to untie it.

"Cregan, stop." When he didn't, she brought her hands over his and leaned closer to him. "Stop."

The tough Warden wasn't used to such a short thing telling him to stop something that he had his mind set on. It was obvious he was holding back his frustration.

"You fight death itself at the wall." She pointed out, "You're a warrior and a leader. You've given me a home, a bed, a castle and servants at my beck-and-call. What kind of wife would complain of all she's been given?"

He let out a breath, "You believe that is a complaint? To be cold?"

"It is."

"It is not. I assure you."

She frowned, "Fine. Then it is a bother."

He let out a frustrated growl. "Stop doing that."

"Doing what?" She asked confused.

"Acting as if you are not the very thing that keeps my soul on fire."

She was thrown off at his confession. "I… W…"

He quickly untied and threw his cloak over her shoulders. He then grabbed her face and pulled her into a demanding kiss.

He pulled her away, "Do not," he growled, "ever believe you are nothing to me."

Cregan was a warm man because northerners are full of fire.

And snow is the only thing that keeps it extinguished enough to not potentially burn all of Westeros.

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Cregan Stark taglist: @misswynters, @cosmosnkaz, @sithapprentice, @kaniromi, @lovemesomevesey, @its-jackie-bb, @callsignwidow, @8812-342, @nyxbranwenn, @thorins-queen-of-erebor

If you want to be added, please comment!

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carlsangel · 6 months ago

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KEEP TALKING PLEASE?

carl grimes x fem!reader

(carl is a chest guy.)

tags: smut, BOOBS!!! and all that jazz

masterlist here!

Carl loves your body, there’s no denying that. Whether you liked it or hated it, he would always love and adore it. He absolutely loved worshipping your body while you two were alone in your room. Usually when you’re out with others he does it quietly. He’ll run his hand up and down your thigh if you’re sitting or he’ll just stare at you for minutes until you notice.

One part of you he adore the most are your boobs. As silly as it sounds, consider him obsessed. The first time he saw them was way into your relationship, a point in time where you were sharing a room but you would change in front of him. He was always so curious and couldn’t help but ask so one time you let him see. He practically froze while he was sat on the bed.

You went to put a shirt on but he immediately protested. “Wait- just hold on.” He shyly waves you over to sit beside him. He’d admire you for a moment before looking up at you, putting his hands out towards your breast, waiting for you to give him the go ahead. When you smile and give him a small nod, he gently cups them, grazing his thumb over your nipple. You breathe in a sharp breath and he looks up at you slightly alarmed before realizing it felt good for you.

From there, he’d just massage you while you made out. Slow, gentle kisses while he played with your chest. It was probably his favorite moment of his life by far.

It reached another level when he started to use his mouth. At first it was something he’d done when you guys were intimate, but then it became something for comfort. Anything with your boobs really. It was comforting for him and he wasn’t sure why, maybe it was how warm you were or how soft your skin was.

You could be laying down on your bed, cuddling with him while talking. He’d grow to get a bit sleepier and quieter so he lifts your shirt a bit in his hands and looks to see if you’d let him like usual. “Yeah go ahead baby.” He loved how gentle you’d be with him while he was sleepy. It was just everything he needed. He’d lift your shirt up enough to reveal your bra and he’d pout at the barrier between him and what he really wanted.

You were wearing a sports bra so he just slid the fabric up to see your chest. He smiled immediately and before you knew it, his mouth was latched onto your tit. He’d shut his eyes as he sucked gently, drawing small moans from you. He didn’t mean for it to be sexual, it was just something he found comfort in. He pulls back a moment to look up at you. “Keep talking…please?” Once again his tone was sweet and light.

You’d just talk and talk about your day while he sucked at your nipple. He’d make small noises against you, which would die down as he fell asleep.

Other occasions he’d just enjoy holding them. Kind of how women find holding their own boobs comfortable, he’s the same except they don’t belong to him. Sometimes you’d watch movies in the living room on the couch while Rick and Michonne are chatting in the kitchen behind you both. All he wanted to do the entire time was to put his hand under your shirt and hold your tit because it was warm and comfy but they wouldn’t leave and he got so frustrated.

Anytime they spoke to him he’d be sort of irritated until they left.

I think it’s safe to say that Carl is a boob guy.

a/n: sorry this is so short but i really like it!!! i actually got two requests for this so i hope it meets the expectations LOL okay that’s it bye love you!

tag list: @zomb-1-egutzz @lunarnightt @ilikestrawberriesandwomen @hiro--aoki @h00d-tr4sh @callsignwidow

#carl grimes #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes twd #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes the walking dead #the walking dead carl #carl grimes smut #twd carl #twd smut #twd fanfiction

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divinesolas · 7 months ago

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the shortest marriage tour | finale

summary: you go through a whirlwind of events; struggles with wedding preparations, feasts in your honor, wedding ceremonies and the fun that comes with being married.

w.c: 6.6k

c.w: fluff, also a good amount of smut, father daemon, idk how weddings work, not proofread

a.n: i had so much fun with this series thank you all for the love !! sorry this took a little longer than expected i did not think this part would be so long 😭😭 MORE BEN TO COME TRUST !

benjicot series taglist: @poppyflower-22 @earth4angels @godofstory @melissaliciousx @jessie123878 @callsignwidow @kezibear @knight-of-flowerss @kitkat1sstuff @valdezthg @multyfangirl @duck-duck-goose2 @charvsz @bxdbxtxh15

part one - part two

As you had expected your parents were not happy with your wish to get married under the weirwood tree. Your father had been especially furious and the two of you got into a screaming match. You two have always had a playfully hateful relationship but you have never hated in the man and he you yet in these moments it was almost as if you two were enemies. Even your mother seemed more willing to give into the idea but your father was firm in denial which led you to now where the two of you would not even speak to one another.

You spent the majority of time with your mother though it was tense, she sort of danced around you as you mostly took reins on your wedding, picking out the food, contacting the seamstress for your dress it shocked your that your mother did not seem to be as involved until she dropped the bomb on you. “Your grandsire wishes for there to be a feast in your honor at the red keep. He,, wants to see you wedded in the sept.” you smash a glass on the ground as you glare at her. “And you tell me this now?!” “He is my father and your king, your grandsire he wishes to see you married,” she sighs as she watches you begin to pace around the room.

“So i am just meant to throw all the planning i have made out of the fucking window?!” Her face hardens, “I am your mother-” “then you should have told me! i would have been angry and furious but i would have compromised because he is the king but most of all you are my mother, and i shall always listen to my mother first.” Her face drops at your words, she walks over to you and grips your shoulders pressing her forehead against yours. “I am sorry. I should have told you sooner but you just seemed to happy and i dont know i did not want to ruin that for you. Maybe just wait a while longer to inform you.”

You sigh and take a step back before nodding. “I understand, well what am i to do with all ive done?” “We could hold a smaller event there?” You run you hands down along your face as you try not to curse. “So i am bound forever to have a boring wedding in front of the sept with every stuck up lord in all the kingdoms who wish to kiss my ass.” She laughs, “You sound so much like your father.”

You frown at the mention of your father and she grips your hand. “Speak to him.” You try to turn away at her words but she keeps you firmly in front of her. “He will never admit it but he misses you he has been mopping about since you two fought.”

You sigh. You hate to admit it but you miss him too and it pained you to see your mother upset that you too were not in a good place. So that night you walk out onto the beach to see him sitting on the dock staring out into the ocean. He does not turn to you when you sit down next to him but there is enough space between you two you are able to place the bottle of wine you had brought down with you.

“its seems we both lose father, i am to be married by a sept in kings landing.” He turns to you as you take a long sip from the bottle. “by whos decree?” “your brother, the king.” He takes the bottle as soon as you place it down and take a long chug from it. He sighs, “i will fight this, my daughter will not be married in a fucking sept.” “why? because its not the wedding you wished for me?” “because its not the wedding you want.”

You let out a stiff laugh with no joy in it as you admire the ocean. “im sorry.” You two sit in silence before he places a hand on your shoulder. No more words are exchanged but they dont need to be the two of you understand one another, actions speak louder than words.

The next day he argues against you getting married in the sept, much to everyone’s disbelief he flies out the next morning to kings landing to argue against it. It would be wrong for both of your beliefs, neither of you believe in the new gods and it would be out right disrespectful to both of you. After days of arguing with them, that you now know were the hightowers not so much your grandsire, daemon returned successful telling you a feast would be held in your honor but nothing more.

You are overjoyed and immediately run to write to benjicot about the news. True to his word the two of you had been exchanging letters back and forth since you left, the letters have been sweet, he tells you what he’s been up to, updates about the construction of the walk which is pretty much done and he even lets oscar and kermit write little notes to you asking you to come back because its boring with you around.

You had thought marriage would be miserable and leaving dragonstone would be much worse but this just proved to you your life would be full of a lot more joy then you had thought, you miss them, you miss being in raventree hall in the riverlands you miss the bright colored grass and waking up to the sound of ravens crowing and cattle moo’ing outside. You missed him.

The letters were nice but they could not fill the gap being without him made. You tended to tell him about your family and about the wedding preparations. The letters were always very sweet and normal until one day about one week away from your wedding a particular long letters is sent by ben to you and you were particularly curious about since he took much longer to write this one.

My love,

I hope all is still well since you last wrote to me. I apologize for the long wait i had been unsure of how to word my feelings properly as of late. I have been feeling particularly, off, as of late. Nothing bad of course but you have always run through my mind rampantly but as of recently i have begun to dream of you. See you when i close my eyes and when i think of you i begin to lose control of myself. My body my mind shivers and shakes at the thought of you. I should not say these things but it has been the only thing i have managed to think of. I imagine your lips, the way they had felt on mine but i imagine them going lower down my jaw to my neck down my chest.

Yet i would never allow you to go lower it would be rude you are a princess, i must worship you. find myself on my knees and defiling you. I imagine the way you would sound as i slipped my fingers inside you. would you scream in delight? or are you the type to sink your teeth into the side of my neck to silence yourself? would you be able to contain yourself as i lick at your most sacred area? would you pull on my hair has i wrap my lips around you bud? and when i stand to slide my way into you would your nails run marks down my back i am sure to be teased about?

i would wear your marks with honor. take me however you wish i would allow it i would let you do anything to me. I have imagined this all too well, so well in fact i have carved it into my memory that every night i must have to act upon my urges with my hand.

It is sinful and this letter is scandalous but i cannot stop myself. I dream of your perfume and the way it fills my lungs i could never get enough of you. Do you picture me? as i picture you?

with all my love, ben.

A knock on your door has you screaming and you slam a book on the letter as the maid walks into the room. One of your hands cover your mouth as you rush to take deep breaths. The maid looks startled at you as she almost drops the tray she had been holding in her hands. “tea?” you gesture her to place it on your table and she rushes to do so before she quickly leaves and you cannot manage to get your breath back to normal as you peer down at the letter once more. that monster! he had rejected all your teasing touches and scandalous words during your month there only to send such a letter to you now? right before the feast and your wedding? You stand up to pace as you think about what to do.

You first thought is to burn the letter and act like this never happened. But you did not want that. You liked the letter, a lot. Much more then you would like to admit with the way your soaked. You hate him. Why would he do this to you? An idea suddenly pops into your head and a grin appears on your face. You can play his game too, and win.

You rummage around in your drawers before finding what you wanted before running back to your desk and getting a paper in ink out before writing to him.

my beloved,

well hello to you too. you are certainly posses the best penmanship out of all the men ive ever written to. This was certainly a surprise to open up imagine i had been around my family! how awful. though before i begin i would like to tell you i have been well, and my dress has finally been completed though by your words that certainly does not matter much to you. Have a pictured you? you certainly already know the answer i have told you as much? do you remember the night you had rejected me out in the woods?

i had gone back to my room and touched myself in ways i had hoped you would. did you not hear me? when i cried your name on my lips as i peaked? i tried to be loud enough i guess i will need to try harder. You should know i am never one to be quiet. as for your predictions and thoughts i shall leave you guessing until our fateful wedding night but let me leave you with this. if you shiver at the mere thoughts of me you will certainly love what i plan to do to you.

if you forbid me from going on my knees then i can certainly find other ways to play with you. my hands would slide down your chest as i wrap my hands around your cock and stroke you until you are shaking and then i would push you back onto the bed and ride you until you are seeing stars. i would grab your hand and have your rub my bud as your hips thrusted up to meet mine in a fury and as you grow closer i will tell you to wait. and you’ll wait and wait and wait until you are begging me to let you release and when you do i will not stop. Maybe you’ll flip me over and take me again? who knows im just throwing out ideas.

i hope you’re taking notes as this is what how im expecting our long waited first night to go. since you missed my scent so much i hope this letter brings you some relief. and maybe even my other gift will too, they’re freshly washed maybe you’re disappointed by that you dirty man.

my heart,

you sign your name and grab your lipstick to apply it and press a kiss to the bottom on the page before soaking the letter in way too many sprays of your perfume before you roll it up and slip it into the small pouch you had put one of your pairs of underwear in before tying the small bag to your bird. “Go take this to benjicot.” Your bird flies off down the familiar path its probably done a hundred times by now and you try to shake off your nerves. Maybe you shouldnt have done that. what if someone else gets to it? you won’t know until you see him in the keep as he certainly wont have enough time to get one out to you now.

You ring the bell and ask the maids to run you a cold bath. as cold as they can make it. You begin to feel sticky and you could not stop lightly shaking as your hands itched to bring you some sort of comfort but you forbid yourself until you got into the bath and dismissed the maids knowing nobody would bother you for the rest of the night.

You anxiously await seeing him. you had ridden with your parents and viserys joffrey and aegon in a carriage having left your dragon in raventree not too long ago with some maesters until you return soon. You arrived a day earlier than your siblings and benjicot and rush to see your siblings the second they arrive. You have a quick greeting with them until you urge them to follow you.

“Why the rush dear sister?” “Maybe because she is eager to see her soon to be husband jace.” baela laces her arm through yours and grins at you. “I am excited to meet this mystery man, father even talks highly of him.” “and father talks highly of no one.” rhaena cut in but you merely laugh and shake your head. “Or maybe it is because i am eager to get this feast over with who wants to spend the evening with the fucking hightowers?”

They were completely right. you were more than excited to see ben and looked around the compound for him as soon as you arrived. You force down the pout that grows on your face as you cant seem to see him anywhere and turn to your siblings who all stare with a knowing look. “What? don’t look at me like that?” Jace places a hand on your shoulder but the mischievous grin he has on his face offers you no comfort. “Don’t cry dear sister im sure he will show up soon.” You slap his arm off your shoulder as they begin to laugh and you roll your eyes. “You are an insufferable little shit.”

“she does not deny she is about to cry oh dont cry dear sister.” you knock lucerys on the head and he winces, “once you can hold a fucking sword in your hand then you can speak to me like that.” “You’re so mean sister.” you open your mouth to argue but a whistle behind you and when you turn around a big grin forms on your face. You rush away from your siblings and when you get close enough he wraps you in his arms and spins you around once before setting you back down on the ground and pressing his forehead against yours.

As much as you wish to kiss him you know that would cause too much of a scandal so you simple press a kiss against his cheek as he grins. “I have missed you.” “I missed you a lot more.” You press your head into his neck where you lips are right next to his ear. “Did you like my letter?” He hums as his arms tighten around you, his head dips into the crook of your neck and he takes a long deep breath in. “did i like it?,” you feel him pinch at your side, “You know the answer.” you pull away slightly and look him in the eye. “And what of my gift?” He rubs his nose against yours as he lets out a shaky breath. “the things i have done with your gift are, unspeakable.” you feel the heat build up in your face as you slap him his shoulder and push him away.

“no hugs for us?” You turn to oscar and kermit and you throw your arms around their shoulders. Your siblings had walked over at some point and had begun introducing themselves so when you turn back around it looks like they are full on interrogating him. When you slip your arm though bens he shoots you a smile that screams ‘please save me’. Jace in particular has his arms crossed as he glares at ben, “oh relax jace he is a nice man.” your brother huffs and benjicot wipes a bead of sweat that drops down his forehead.

“You’re scaring him, trust me if he wanted to defile me i gave him many the opportunity yet my purity is in tact.” This has your brother tensing as baela covers her mouth with a laugh, “Whatever are you talking about?” “when i had waited for him in the library in nothing but my silk night gown he merely took off his cloak and told me i must be cold imagine my disappointment.” he deadpans as he looks between the two of you and turns back to you alarmed when ben merely turns away with his ears bright red “tell me you are jesting.” “if it will make you feel better.” “it would.” “then of course i was kidding! do you really think i am so deprave?”

he glares at you as a guard walks over and tells you your parents wished to see you and you turn to ben who squeezes your hand. “i shall see you later.” he lifts up your hand to press a kiss on the back before he walks off with a small wave. “he seems sweet, you pick well dear sister” You smile at baela and thank her as you watch ben walk off with oscar and kermit in his tail. it really hits you that you’re going to be married in a few days time and you cant help but grow more and more excited. “you really like him.” “i do.”

Your afternoon is a blur, you watch as your siblings greet your parents and dreadfully greet alicent and her children who look less than happy to see any of you but you all suck it up for the sake of the day knowing you’ll be gone before the sun even rises tomorrow. You are suddenly rushed to your room to get dressed in some fancy dress and some ridiculous hair that has you itching. its just for one night, you repeat to yourself over and over agin in the hopes you will not tear off your clothes or scratch at your hair so the pins would fall out.

The only thing that brings you relief is seeing benjicot sitting with the rest of your family at the end table with a spot empty right next to you. “well you clean up nicely.” He certainly did. His hair slicked back away from his forehead while outfit is completely black with red accents, if you look closely you could see little ravens stitched into the fabric. a light blush covers his face as he looks you up and down as he smiles, “you are the prettiest woman ive ever seen.” you slap his shoulder lightly as your grin, “and you are the most handsome man ive ever seen” his chest puffs up at your complimentary words and he helps you into your seat.

Your grandsire and your parents give speeches you don’t bother to listen to simply playing with bens fingers under the table until people start coming up to you to give you there congratulations. this was the part you hated the most, where every lord and lady comes up and tells you how happy they are for you and sneakily try to tell you they brought a very nice gift that you will probably never look at and you have to sit there with a painful smile as benjicot took over as you barely even wanted to look at these people. He was a much better communicator than you were and everyone who spoke to him seemed please you were happy at least one of you would be good at dealing with the stuck up lord and ladies.

Except when he walked up and you could tell he was growing angry. you place a hand on his chest and scoot up further in your chair in a silent motion telling him you’ll handle this. “lord braken,” he bows his head and aeron practically hides behind his father, “what a pleasure.” benjicot laces his fingers with yours and squeezed them tightly as he tried not to speak. “congratulations are in order princess what a wonderful occasion.” you grind your jaw as you smile and nod, “thank you lord braken.” He does allow his eyes to look at benjicot for a moment before he looks back at you. This was not going to be good.

“though it is quite a shame you are marrying a man of, his nature.” benjicots knees hits the table and everyones eyes turn to look at him but he remains silent. You grip his hand tightly but keep your eyes on the lord braken. you can see aeron tug on the his fathers back trying to get him to step back and walk away but lord braken does not falter. so you lean across the table and grin at him, “if you do not get the fuck out of my sight in the next five seconds you and your family will be nothing but food for my fucking dragon so i suggest you walk away. Now.”

He laughs awkwardly and takes a couple steps back as you settle back into your seat, “good day.” he quickly runs away and you begin to laugh. You turn to benjicot pleased and see him admiring you, “what?” he just shakes his head, “i really like you.” you blow raspberries as you try to ignore pounding of your heart and the heat in your stomach, “i would hope so.”

He suddenly stands and you look at him confused until he holds his hand out to you, “would my lady like to dance with me?” You grab his hand and let him pull you up, “you sure you want to i am an awful dancer?” he leads you to the floor anyway, “im sure you’re better than you say.” you laugh, “if you say so, if your feet begin to bruise its not my fault.”

You are a fine dancer, maybe a little sloppy and out of practice but he is more than happy to dance with you. You felt so happy like it could never get better than this, just you and benjicot. The rest of the night went just as well, no more annoying lord as you spent the rest of night on the dance floor until the two of you called it a night.

you would head back to dragonstone for some final prep while benjicot head to raventree hall for the wedding. You did not want to leave him once again but he assured you these last couple days would fly by and your wedding would be here before you knew it. “once this is all over we’ll get to spend the rest of our lives together.” You would be flying back alone and the rest of your family would be traveling together in carriage to raventree hall and you would meet them there as after the wedding they would come back to king's landing.

It was odd packing up all your stuff, your room now barren and empty. all the things you’ve ever known packed up in boxes. It did not bother you much to leave kings landing it never felt like home despite never knowing anywhere else but here? in dragonstone where you grew up with your siblings? where you learned how to use a sword? you find yourself staring at the castle before forcing yourself into the carriage and letting it take you and all your stuff to raventree hall. You did not think you would cry but you do and you’re thankful nobody else is there to see it.

Its snowing. all the land that the eye could see was covered in snow. Raventree hall is packed by the time you arrive and people rush to you the second you jump out of the carriage, “please theres enough of me to go around.” oscar rolls his eyes and grabs you, “come on you need to see this.” he drags you off with kermit not too far behind and you have no clue what he could be showing you until you are standing in front of it. “wow.” “i know right, its amazing.”

The boarder between the lands stood tall, the dark oak wood towers over you, its much taller than you had thought it would be. oscar smacks you on the shoulder, “this wouldn’t be possible without you my benevolent princess.” he dips into a low bow and you cant help but laugh, “yes i am rather charitable dont you think? it is my duty to help the needy.” You hope it makes him happy, the stones gone and you can no longer even see the braken castle. “does he like it?” kermit laughs at your question, “like it? i swear he’s never looked happier.”

The three of you are soon dragged back to the castle walls and you are forced into the main hall. Benjicot is not there much to your disappointment but two very unfamiliar faces are. You quickly find out they are lord cregan stark and his wife alysanne stark aka benjicots aunt. “it is so nice to finally meet you princess. Benji writes so much about you.” ”no need to be so formal alysanne we are to be family.”

with your que alysanne, who begged you call her aly, asks you many questions about your relationship with benjicot and you ask her about the north where cregan buts in and the three of you engage in a very long conversation. The two of them are very nice people and they make you promise to come to the north sometime to spend some time there and you assure them you will.

as the night grows later you find it odd benjicot has not come out to greet you until you find out the two of you are not to see each other until you walk down the aisle. Its just one more night, one more night until you spend the rest of your lives together. You toss and turn that night despite the fact everyone told you to get as much rest as possible. you stare up at the ceiling and wonder if benjicot is in the same state, if he cant sleep because he’s thinking about you.

You certainly have no time to be exhausted when you are immediately woken up and tossed into a whirlwind of events. a piece of bread is shoved into your mouth as maids urge you into the bath, scrubbing you down head to toe. You barely have any idea whats going on until your mother walks into the room and she gasps at you. “you look beautiful.” they had been working on your hair for only the gods know how long but you had been tied tightly into your dress. your mother stands before you with tears in her eyes, “oh look at you.”

“oh don’t cry mother ill ruin my makeup.” you cannot handle seeing her cry, already overwhelmed with emotions. she wipes the tears off her face but they dont seem to stop leading your eyes to well up so badly one of the maids had to walk over and put a cloth near your eyes to catch the tears. “i am so happy for you.” “thank you mother.”

she nods and composes herself, sitting on the bed and you narrow your eyes at her serious look. “what?” she sighs and runs her hands along her skirt. “there are things that happen on your wedding night,” “oh my gods.” you turn around and the maids rush around you to continue working on your hair. “i have to tell you this, unless you already know.” you look at her through the mirror and you can tell what she means immediately by her words. “do you all think so low of me everyone assumes i have been defiled? i am as a girl my age is.” she lets out a sigh of relief but she ends up tilting your head at your wording. “what does that mean?” “it means i have touched myself.” the maids freeze at your words and so does your mother but you shrug. “what? i am a growing women.” “how do you even know about that?” “father gave me a book.” “daemon?”

The man in question walks into the room and every pair of eyes turns to look at him. “what?” “father remember that book you gave me?” daemon looks up and he looks thoroughly confused until a flash comes across his face and he brightens up with a laugh. “yes yes i remember.” rhaenyra glares at him but he just shrugs, “she was complaining to me about feeling, pains, and i simply provided her the resources to make it go away.” she glares at him and mumbles something about them talking about it later.

Your father eyes you, “face me.” you turn around again as the maids finally finish and they all stepped away from you. rhaenyra stands next to daemon the two look at you. you see the tears in rhaenyras eyes again and she wipes them away. “oh my beautiful girl.” daemon says nothing but he has an unreadable face as he stares at you. you punch him lightly in the stomach, “not even going to tell me i look pretty?” he lightly chuckles, “you already know that.” you pout at him, “it would be nice to hear.” he grabs yours shoulders and you are shocked by the sudden contact, “you are the prettiest princess in the whole realm.” you would normally think hes kidding, his word choice as comedic as always but you can tell he’s being serious. “thank you father.”

Before you know it you are being looked over once more before being taken outside for the ceremony. You had not taken into account when designing your dress that it would be snowing but luckily alys had brought her wedding cloak for you to wear. She had worn it when she got married in the cold snowy winter in winterfell and assured you it would keep you as warm as a freshly baked bread. You almost tear up again at the gesture but you try your best to compose yourself. your father stands at your side and you loop your arm through his.

“can you believe that when you crushed my toe with your heel we would end up like this?” you laugh and shove him with your elbow and he laughs with you. “see are you now thankful i insisted we leave that night.” he hums but says nothing and you look at him. He looks, sad? you turn to him and grab his hands. “i shall visit you father i promise, you will not grow older and bitter without me.” he rolls his eyes but he looks more than pleased at your words, “then i shall bother you for the rest of my life.” you groan as the two of you stand back into proper place. “oh please i take it all back i did not mean it.”

with one final laugh he ques for the doors to be open and the first thing you notice is the cold rush that hits your face. you close your eyes at the rush but make sure to maintain your pace, the covering you have on your face doing nothing to protect you. yet when you finally open your eyes you see the face of everyone you love yet your eyes cant seem to tear away from him. Standing tall infront of the weirwood tree you almost burst into tears. dawned with furs and his hair slicked back once again, his hair is covered in white snow flakes with a bright smile on his face. he wipes his eyes quickly as you begin to get closer. you turn to your father who lifts up your veil and presses a small kiss on your forehead before walking off and you stand in front of benjicot.

His eyes swell up as he looks at you and you cant help but do the same. “you are so beautiful.” he whispers to you as the maester begins to speak. the ceremony is everything you could have dreamed of and more. Your hands tied together and words spoken in sync, sealing you together forever with a perfect kiss. it was the most magical moment of your life. the crowd cheers as you look up at the ravens who stare you down and you can hear morningstar roar in the background this day could not get any better.

the feast afterwards was much better than the one in the red keep. nobody bothering, no need to pretend for a single second you were overjoyed and ben could not keep his hands off you, calling you his wife any chance he could get. though you could barely eat, too excited for the events that will occur after you call it a night and it seemed ben could not wait either as his hands massaged any skin he could get and he pressed his head into your neck to smell you.

after way too long you two finally call it a night, ignoring the whistles of your friends you sprinted down the halls with bens hand in yours as the two of you laugh. You finally reach his room and the two of you simply stare at one another with stupid smiles. “have i told you that you are gorgeous?” you take a step towards him and he does the same, “only a couple hundred times.” his lips dance over yours and his next words come out as a hushed whisper, “i feel as though i have not done it enough.”

he kisses you slowly as his hands find its way to your back and begin to untie the dress much slower than you would like. his lips trail down your neck and you throw your head back. as he continues to unlace every tie, “ben.” you hear him rumble in annoyance, “why does this thing have so many ties?” you laugh and reach behind you to help him and your dress suddenly drops to the floor, leaving you bare in front of him. He steps back and his eyes dart all over your body.

You smirk and spin around for him, “you pleased?” he jumps you like a dog you fall back onto the bed with a squeal as he grips your tits in his hands, “i am more than fucking pleased.” you moan as his hands continue to knead at your skin and his lips dance around your collarbone. “you are wearing too much.” you manage to get out as you would much rather feel his skin against yours. he laughs and pulls away from you, “as my lady commands.” you sit up on your elbows as you watch him strip down into nothing licking your lips at him. he crawls back onto of you and you run your hands down his chest, “you were hiding all this under your stupid tunics.” he pinches your slide as his hands find your core and rub the folds of your slit, “does my lady wish for me to wear no shirt?” “your lady wishes for you to stick your fingers inside her.”

he does exactly as you say and grip his shoulder, his fingers were longer than yours, thicker and more coarse, which just two fingers he can reach places you had only ever dreamed about. “please ben.” “please what?” “another one.” he adds another finger and his lips wrap around one of your nipples as his free hand places with your other one. His fingers suddenly press just right against your walls and you cry out, “right there oh fuck.” he continues to hit that point over and over as his thumb circled around your clit. the stimulation of his fingers and his mouth are too much for you to bare and your legs shake as you release all over his fingers.

when he pulls his fingers out he wraps them around his cock. you whine at his actions and wiggle your hips towards him, “please fuck me ben.” he laughs and moans as his hand quickens, “i thought you had so many wonderful ideas of what were were going to do?” “lets save it for another night, ben please.”

“anything my lady says.” with a couple more tugs of his hand he lines himself up before he pushes into you slowly. it aches. stretches you out you begin to hiss, he presses his lips against yours as he slides in fully. the two of you stay like that for awhile. he doesn’t dare move an inch without your okay. he pulls away from your lips and grips your face with his hands, “are you good?” you nod and test the waters by moving your hips a little. It did not ache as much and the sound he lets out is more than enough to please you. “fuck me.” he looks at you for assurance and you nod right before he begins to move his hips. your legs wrap around his hips and you shove your head into his neck as he pounds into you.

your hands scratch down his back and he hisses, “fuck you feel so good.” you can do nothing but mumble nonsense as you such into the skin of his neck. the room full of the sounds of skin slapping and the wet sounds of him pushing in and out of you. You bite into his neck once his hand slips between you too and plays with your clit once again. “ben,” you could not stop the bubble feeling in your stomach, the hot rushes all over your body. your skins burned against one another you could start a fire. “im gonna,” you words have him somehow moving fast and you feel him nod against you, “please do please.” you realize he has been waiting for you to release, most likely already way beyond his peak. once he feels you spur around him he also release, painting the inside of your walls.

the two of you lay still. he does not dare slip out of you. the two of you are sweaty and sticky but you have never been happier when he pulls back to look at you. “we should have been doing thats sooner.” you laugh and slap his chest, “i was trying you fool but you would not give in.” you feel him grow harder inside of you but he slips out suddenly, before you can whine about feeling empty he flips you back over and quickly slips back into you. “lets make up for lost time then.”

#benjicot blackwood #bloody ben #ben blackwood x reader #benjicot blackwood x reader #bloody ben x reader #hotd x reader #house of the dragon x reader #house of the dragon #ben blackwood

1K notes · View notes

algae-tm · 8 months ago

Text

MATCH MY FREAK

Max Verstappen x Heiress! reader

You have a reputation for being high maintenance, Max thinks you’re perfect (oneshot)

Author’s Note: if you can’t tell I have major writers block on my kill bill series… this is why you plan folks! I’ve kinda written myself into a corner. However, I love doing these lil oneshots so here’s another :)

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MESSAGES

yourusername just posted on instagram

liked by lewishamilton, maxverstappen1, and 5,234,432 others

yourusername : mom, i am a rich man

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user1 : a rich man yet all your exes say you bleed them dry

— user3 : at that point it’s a skill issue… if they knew they couldn’t keep up they shouldn’t have started dating her

— user1 : you females will defend each other no matter how in the wrong you are. — user3 : not fighting with a dude who calls women females

—user1 : lmao cause you know you’re wrong

user5 : I think oomf on twitter was right, she likes lavish things so she buys them and the men in her life are threatened.

— maxverstappen1 : couldn’t be me I’m very secure in my masculinity!

— user5 : MAX VERSTAPPEN!!!!??????

— user6 : what is bro doing here

— user8 : y/n’s freshly single and brother decides to shoot his shot lmao 🤣🤣

— user1 : brother run away whilst you can she’ll only drain your energy and your bank account.

— maxverstappen1 : me and my bank account can handle it

carlossainz55 : bro @maxverstappen1 thank you for lending me that 5 million euros after I lost my job! — maxverstappen1 : the least I can do brother!

landonorris : Max Verstappen let me win the Miami gp! — maxverstappen1 : No bro it was all you!

georgerussell63 : hey dude @maxverstappen1 when do you want me to return that lambo you lent me?

— maxverstappen1 : of course you can just keep it!

charles_leclerc : max verstappen saved my mother and my dog from my burning yacht, then gave me his spare yacht cause he felt bad!

— maxverstappen1 : no worries say hi to pascale and Leo for me!

danielricciardo : Max Verstappen is the most passionate lover I’ve ever had!

— maxverstappen1 : bro what? — maxverstappen1 : this is not true!

— user6 : lmao Dan I don’t think you did this correctly…

—danielricciardo : I only speak the truth 🤭

maxverstappen1: oh what a coincidence I am also a rich man, we should talk about our similarities over dinner

lewishamilton : catch flights not feelings

— yourusername : so right lew 🖤

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, lewishamilton, and 4,324,367 others

yourusername : is somebody gonna match my freak?

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user23 : isn’t the saying like luxury whispers or something?

— yourusername : why should I whisper? My people deserve to be luxurious loudly!

lewishamilton : I actually have the perfect person to ‘match your freak’ he’s equally as weird as you

— yourusername : 🤨🤨🤨 I’m all ears

— maxverstappen1 : me me me!! He’s talking about me

MESSAGES

A YEAR LATER • INSTAGRAM

maxverstappen1 just posted

liked by yourusername, charles_leclerc and 8,234,432 others

maxverstappen1 : I MATCHED HER FREAK!!

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yourusername : yeah you did baby!!

danielricciardo : that should be me 😔😔

— yourusername : stop trying to steal my man!

— danielricciardo : he was mine first!!

— user42 : this dynamic is everything

user44 : max actually bagged a baddie??

— user56 : they’re gunna divorce in like 2 years once he realises she’s too high maintenance…

— maxverstappen1 : NUH UH

lewishamilton : for the role I played any children you have should be named Lewis…

— maxverstappen1 : you extorted me!

— lewishamilton : I helped you get the girl!

— yourusername : yeah max, was I not worth the extortion??

— maxverstappen1 : what no, of course you were! I’d be extorted 1 million times for you!

— user65 : wow they really do match each others freak…

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TAGLIST

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@a-beaverhausen

@emryb

@c0deincrazy

@dontworryaboutitokie

@c-losur3

@chuxk-lerclerk

@silkenthusiasts

@ietss

@sp1rl

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen x you #max verstappen x black!reader #max verstappen smau #f1 smau #f1 fic #max verstappen fic #f1 x reader #x reader #fem reader #formula 1 smau #formula one smau #f1 fanfic #max verstappen imagine

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floisahoe · 1 month ago

Text

P4 - Charles Leclerc x Reporter/CS55 ex!Reader

Charles Leclerc x Reporter/CS55 ex!Reader - Instagram AU

Deuxmoi

Liked by cl16ismyhusband, charlesbaby, and 211,516 others

Deuxmoi Celebrity blind item just in💋

View all 45,915 comments

User1 Football? This could be anyone ffs

User2 Props to him, that's mature

User3 I wouldn't give af if the feeling was mutual ^

User4 Charles is that you?

User5 as in Leclerc?

user4 replied

user4 I mean they both met at Al Palazzo for lunch and she did date Carlos Sainz

Memezdaily1

Liked by the.real.y/b/f/n, user1, and 1,018 others

Memezdaily1 Who can relate?!

View all 155 comments

the.real.y/b/f/n @y/n_y/l/n

y/n_y/l/n replied

y/n_y/l/n 🫠

charlesbaby @charlesstan omg look at y/n's comment ^ post this on your page

User1 ugh I hate this feeling

User2 I just can't help myself (literally reading a forbidden romance book rn)

User3 me🙋

I'mjustagurl

Liked by y/n_y/l/n, the.real.y/b/f/n, user1, and 4,018 others

I'mjustagurl why oh why😟

View all 310 comments

y/n_y/l/n @the.real.y/b/f/n

the.real.y/b/f/n replied

the.real.y/b/f/n you and mr Monaco

charlesbaby @charlesstan mr Monaco!! this is so charles coded

charlesstan replied

charlesstan making a follow up post now

User1 setting him on fire wouldn't even do anything🥹

I'mjustagurl wait a second, my post went viral because of an f1 driver???

User2 not just any f1 driver girly - CHARLES LECLERCCCC LECLERCCCCCC cough cough cough ^

y/n_y/l/n

Liked by the.real.y/b/f/n, charles_leclerc, and 598,815 others

y/n_y/l/n Monaco, I really like you🫶

View all 138,287 comments

the.real.y/b/f/n👀

y/n_y/l/n replied

y/n_y/l/n as in the place y/b/f/n the.real.y/b/f/n mhm

danielricciardo Australia is better tho

user1 so pretty!!

y/nstan miss gurl clean the mirror

gridfashion11

Liked by f1wags, y/nreports, and 937 others

gridfashion11 reporter y/n y/l/n arriving at todays Monaco gp

View all 223 comments

user1 does anyone know where the dress is from??

user2 replied

user2 could be reformation?

y/nreports a Monaco princess

charleswifey replied

charleswifey fictionally married to Charles

f1wags I miss her being a wag, her fashion was always the best

charlesstan

Liked by charlesbaby, y/ninterviews, the.real.y/b/f/n, and 2,012 others

charlesstan charles be like "i want to be friends" but looks at y/n y/l/n like this

View all 410 comments

user1 I kind of like the slow burn though

user2 wait i'm confused how do we know that he wants to be friends???

charlesstan replied

charlesstan check the deuxmoi blind item, majority of people are assuming it's Charles & y/n

f1girly4lyfe I'd actually drop dead if he looked at me like that

f1wags I get that he doesn't want to disrespect Carlos but he's making it so obvious

charlesbaby omg her bff just liked this post!

Tag list

@dark-night-sky-99

@callsignwidow

@chaoswithus

thank you <3

#f1 imagine #f1 instagram au #f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 au #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc smau

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5sospenguinqueen · 9 months ago

Text

Lullabies | Max Verstappen x Singer! Reader

Summary: Six months ago, Max walked out of your life after a conversation about your future. When you find out he' ended up in a's dating Kelly - who has a child - you work through your emotions in the best way you know how; revenge music.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Miscommunication. End of a relationship. Max doesn’t look great in this.

Female reader with various faceclaims. Takes place in 2021 but timelines have been completely altered. Olivia Rodrigo songs.

Main Masterlist

next.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Feb

YourUserName just posted

liked by georgerussell63, bestfriend and others

YourUserName 'and i fantasise about a time you're a little fucking sorry'

12,326 comments

User 1 mother is in the studio, ya’ll. i'm smelling a new album

User 2 did their breakup destroy my soul? yes. do i believe the revenge album will heal my soul? absolutely

User 3 the working titles are so unhinged and I’m here for it

→ User 4 hit you with a car is so real

→ User 5 love that she called him evil whilst also saying that she wants him to drive off a cliff. we respect it

francisca.cgomes i’m SO ready for this. sure you can’t give me a little preview?

→ YourUserName stop trying to get me fired

User 6 sis disappears from social media for 6 months only to come back serving cunt

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

2 months before

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

May

redbullracing just posted

liked by YourUserName, maxverstappen1 and others

redbullracing ANOTHER VICTORY FOR MAX VERSTAPPEN 🏆 #AustrianGP tagged: maxverstappen1, kellypiquet

7,445 comments

User 7 omg omg omg y/n liked. this is not a drill

User 8 was that last photo really necessary? she’s just a wag, she’s not actually part of red bull

User 9 not y/n liking 🥺 he broke her heart but she’s still supportive of his career

User 10 that should’ve been Y/N

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

June

YourUserName just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, victoriaverstappen and others

YourUserName 'you’re just a stranger i know everything about'

10,102 comments

User 11 not max liking despite not even following

victoriaverstappen so talented

liked by maxverstappen1

→ YourUserName thank you, vic x

→ User 12 not the former SILs interacting on main

alex_albon what's that sound? oh, it's just my tears

→ YourUserName doofus

→ lilymhe can confirm

User 12 and now my heart is breaking all over again. i miss the two of them so bad

kellypiquet just posted

liked by landonorris, redbullracing and others

kellypiquet summer break with my favourites 🤍 tagged: maxverstappen1

4,387 comments

User 13 so pretty

User 14 goals

User 15 anyone notice max hasn’t been commenting since y/n became active again on socials

→ User 16 delusional

→ User 17 clearly they're fine if she's posting vacay pics with him

→ User 18 except these are clearly old pics because max had stubble at the gp like two days ago so...

→ User 15 @ user16 plus he always used to comment and this time he's not even liked the post

→ User 19 not to add fuel to the fire but they were also spotted arguing after his podium

YourUserName posted a new story

Baby Fever Angst Series

Tag List (I tried to include all those who asked. Sorry if you only wanted to be tagged in Part 2 to Daniel and not the other drivers, it got a bit confusing haha)

@lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @callsignwidow @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery

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youaresimplylovely · 9 months ago

Text

Fashion n' Cars (Part Three)

Pairings: F1 Grid x Verstappen!Supermodel!Reader Summary: Max Verstappen has a sister who is a famous supermodel but what happens when other F1 drivers start taking interest in her? Warnings: slight flirting, overprotective Maxie, fluff! Fc: Emily Ratajkwoski

Proofread!! A/N: yipee happy 400 followers!! Still in awe of everything but i am soooo thankful. Here's to moreee, i love u all <33 and this part is quite short bc the next one would be abt some dates 🫶🎀. Pic quali is lowww but survivable 🥹🥲

and again if u want to be added on my taglist u can input ur user on this form ^^ https://forms.gle/4Pk1HSDjTEg51Xo79

part one part two

ynverstappen

liked by maxverstappen1, dior, and 60,236,945 others

ynverstappen som1 asked me how i like my man i like him with abs 😈

view all comments

maxverstappen1 i can see your upper boob 😀

ynverstappen thanks....? maxverstappen1 AND SO CAN THEM

user NAUR ALL OF THEM HAVE ABS THO

user6 what if it's george <3

user2 BACK OFF YA'LL ITS LEWIS

carlossainz55

liked by ynverstappen, scuderiaferrari, and 5,876,327 others

carlossainz55 cualquier cosa por ti

view all comments

user CARLOS R U TRYING TO HIT ON MAX'S SISTER!?!!?!?

user14 hot hot hot hot

maxverstappen1 what the fuck?

carlossainz55 ¿Puedo casarme con tu hermana? maxverstappen1 no.

ynverstappen spanish men really are something else >< carlossainz55 Toda tuya bebé maxverstappen1 back off.

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, ynverstappen, and 8,965,023 others

landonorris <3

view all comments

user1 IS THAT EVEN U LANDO

oscarpiastri tsk tsk all for a girl

landonorris u suck

ynverstappen i didn't know a kid could have abs

landonorris now u know babygirl maxverstappen1 no.

georgerussell63

liked by f1, ynverstappen, and 4,834,034 others

georgerussell63 hot summer vibes

view all comments

ynverstappen wowie zowie

georgerussell63 😘 maxverstappen1 why the fuck are you giving my sister a kiss?

user23 SHIRTLESS GEORGIE

maxverstappen1 what the fuck is wrong with you people

ynverstappen

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, and 70,893,421 others

ynverstappen thanks for the flowers @lewishamilton @charles_leclerc @landonorris @pierregasly @carlossainz55 (comments r limited to my other only cuz he said so 🙄)

comments are limited

maxverstappen1 ha! It's only me now and where the hell is my thank you 🤨

ynverstappen wdym lol

maxverstappen1 the big red roses one were from me 😊

ynverstappen oh I thought that was from lewis anyways thanks brother 😘😘

maxverstappen1 🤦‍♀️❤️

TAGLIST

reply here or answer the gform to be added on my taglist 🩷

@euphoricchills @charlesleclerx @Inchident-jgp @amethyst-bitch @dr4g0ngirl @likedbygaslyy @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @httpstoyosi @evermore555 @bibissparkles @lokideservesahug @emmy626 @hiireadstuff @urfavouriteanon @darleneslane @anon555xxx @shelbyteller @spookystitchery @bearryyy @justtprachisblog @alliwantisadonut @kika-writes @casperlikej @funnelcakeee @m-1805 @firebreathingbitch17 @mahaytii @xoscar03 @chiatchi @ashlovestoread1411 @snapeeballsack @silverxxs-world @thearchieves @destinyg237 @juliee4everial @thebasicbiatch @67-angelofthelordme-67 @glossiersworld @aadu2173 @honethatty12 @halleest @janeholt3 @callsignwidow @evie-119

#f1 #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #formula 1 au #f1 smau #f1 blurb #carlos sainz x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lando norris x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #pierre gasly x reader #george russell x reader

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youreverydayfangirl · 4 months ago

Text

I DONT WANNA LIVE FOREVER

pairing: max verstappen x singer reader

summary: the one where the public begins to scrutinize to an unbearable point, threats are made and a specific popstar disappears

warning: online hate, mentions of cheating

a/n: hey guys heres the second part also as a btw i think the next parts will prolly be longer cause i just wanted to lay the gournd work i think i might end up switching povs between socials and real life

face claim: sabrina carpenter

f1 masterlist

main masterilst

series masterlist

y/nsprivate has posted

liked by thatoneartgirlalex, keekslikestospammmm and 18 others

y/nsprivate i actually cant deal with this anymore its all bullshit and no one even believes me i cant defend myself im just so done

thatoneartgirlalex sweetie 😭😭

keekslikestospammmm im coming over now

leosfather do you want me to 'accidently' crash into him

-> y/nsprivate thats prolly not gonna help but it would be funny

livbereallydumb im actually gonna throw hands

itssabrinaaa give me a call if you need anything

f1gossip has posted

liked by 195, 203 users

f1gossip New WAG alert?! Lando Norris and Y/n L/n ex friend, exbsf have been spotted out and about recently. This comes after the shocking reveal of L/ns infedelity and Lando and hers public break up 2 months ago. Could this be a new WAG in the making???

user1 I KNEW IT IM SO HAPPY

user2 AHH THEIR SO CUTE

user3 he deserved way better than y/n just saying 🤷‍♀️

-> user4 agreed

user5 i think we all knew this was coming

user6 kinda fishy that she immedietly gets with him after his and y/ns breakup

-> user7 stfu it wasn't "immedietly" and its public knowledge she cheated theirs literal proof

user8 GUYS EXBSF JUST POSTED OMFG

exbsf has posted

liked by landonorris, f1gossip and 1, 950, 129 others

exbsf summer sun with my favourite people

user1 oh she knows what shes doing

user2 genuinly obsessed with her

user3 oh she KNOWS what shes doing

exfriend OMG STUNNING IM IN LOVE

-> exbsf 😘😘

francisca.cgomes absolutely not

this comment has been deleted

f1gossip has posted

liked by exbsf and 294, 591 others

f1gossip SPOTTED! Y/n L/n for the first time in months in a very public meltdown with friends francisca.cgomes and alexandrasaintmleux

user1 tagging them is so messy 😭

user2 exbsf liking this is so messy

user3 this is such an invasion of privacy

francisca.cgomes this is actually something insane to post

alexandrasaintmleux i normally stay quiet but this is genuinely disgusting

alexandrasaintmleux delete this

user4 Alex and Kika defending her in the comments?

-> user5 yeah cause they know the whole truth and whose actually in the wrong

-> user6 y/n this you?

user7 DESERVED SHES SUCH A SNAKE OMG

user8 🐍🐍🐍

-> user9 🐍🐍🐍

-> user10 🐍🐍🐍

-> user11 🐍🐍🐍

-> user12 🐍🐍🐍

-> user13 🐍🐍🐍

this post has been deleted by author

-----------------------------

Hi guys hers part to for you ;)

------------------------

taglist:

@lyannesworld

@pippyth3hippy

@scorpiomindfuck

@syddddddddddddd

@paigem00

@toldyouitwasamelodrama

@lilsiz

@chelle1306

@sired4urmama

@stinkyjax

@kiyomisan

@hotgirlslikemax

@itsjustkhaos

@sid-is-gr8

@mastermindbaby

@akkklys

@reidsworld

@tall-tanned-tattoo

@mrsmaybank24

@m1892

@taliya8346282844eliviahdgdajs

@midnights-lily

@skynel09

@grussellsprout

@comicalivy

@callsignwidow

@unknownmystery22

@nina-or-anna-or-nora

@exotic-iris13

@stereading

@taygrls

@sleutherclaw

@jxnellat

@nitiii

#reputation #reputation series #f1 masterlist #formula1 #max verstappen fic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen angst #max verstappen fluff #max verstappen x reader #f1 fluff #f1 angst #f1 series #f1 smau

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megalony · 1 month ago

Text

Maimed My Wife

This is a new Emperor Geta imagine that turned out rather long. I'm very happy with this one and I hope you will all like it.

Please tell me what you think.

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: Geta is very protective of his wife. And when a General in the palace attacks her, he sees to it personally that said General will no longer be a threat.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A deep warmth spread through (Y/n) and her mouth curved into a tender grin when a familiar pair of lips attached themselves to the side of her neck. Silently, she inclined her head to the left, allowing more access while she tried to keep her focus on the book in her hands.

Her fingers skimmed across the corner of each page, an action she had done for long enough that the corners were starting to crinkle as if they had been dampened with water. Each page was still pristine and crisp, but there was a small, noticable mark of wear and tear in the corners and the remnants of ink smudged across the side of the pages when each one had been turned.

The words began to blurr on the page the longer (Y/n) felt Geta's administrations on her neck continue. Added with the movement of his hands which were fiddling with the fabric of her dress and the belt around her waist, he was making it very hard to concentrate.

Geta's arms were encircled around (Y/n)'s waist as if he were caging her in his embrace, not that she ever wanted to leave.

It wasn't often that they could scrape moments together like this without having some kind of audience or interruption. Being here, just the two of them with no guards or family or servants hovering nearby, it was heavenly. It was a sense of serenity.

(Y/n) re-read the same two lines for what felt like the tenth time until they finally seemed to sink in and she could focus on reaching the bottom of the page. But when Geta's teeth sank down against her lower neck near her shoulder, she was sure he was trying to leave a visible mark. A signal that she was his, she was taken. As if no one already knew who she belonged to.

The book started to tap against her knees that were drawn up so her feet could press down into the sofa and steady herself. The words weren't making sense anymore, she wasn't really paying attention.

(Y/n) hadn't been in the library long before Geta wandered in, knowing this was exactly where his wife would be. As soon as he sat down with her, (Y/n) knew her book would end up being forgotten and would have to be finished another day. Even as Geta murmured into her hair that he just wanted to sit with her as he had a moment to spare, and the promises he uttered into her skin that he wouldn't be a distraction. (Y/n) knew he would be.

Her chest leaned further back into Geta's chest until she was reclined against him and her head fell back against his shoulder. He was sat slightly slouched down into the sofa while (Y/n) was sat sideways so she could be tucked into Geta's arm. It didn't take long for him to twist and curve both arms around her and attach to her like he had been apart from her for days, not hours.

"You're making this difficult." (Y/n) murmured with a sly smile, already residing to the fact that she was giving up with reading for today.

"Hm, I can tell."

Her hand draped across the sofa, fumbling about to try and find the speckled feather she had been using as a bookmark for quite some time now. Once it was slotted safely in place between the pages, (Y/n) leaned forward to set her book down on the other end of the sofa.

The library was (Y/n)'s sense of peace. She had been thrilled when she moved into the palace after marrying Geta and he showed her the library. He had quickly realised that if he couldn't find his wife anywhere, this was where she would be hiding. Buried in the books the library provided, catching up on her Latin and Greek and delving into the mythical stories each book provided.

Geta understood her love of books, even if he didn't read half as many books as her. He had been tutored well. He and Caracalla had been taught to read and write since the moment they could stand on their own two feet. Emperors had to be well-schooled and be given rich educations. Geta wanted the same for his children, even if he wouldn't go about it as strictly as his parents had. And he had promised himself never to treat his children the way his father had treated him and his twin.

He began to feather his fingers up and down (Y/n)'s waist, grinning into her neck at the way she squirmed against him and moved her hands down to clasp over his wrists now that she wasn't holding her book.

When Geta lifted his head, (Y/n) turned and angled her head up so she could peck his cheek.

She took the chance to admire his pale features, amplified with a lacquer of paint to make his features more ghostly and frightening. On anyone else, (Y/n) was sure looking so pale and deathly would look a horrid sight, but on her husband it was enchanting and regal.

One hand reached up to brush a stray strand of bright orange hair away from his dark eyes that fell closed as he leaned into her touch and nudged his nose against her wrist.

Moments alone like these were few and hard to grasp, Geta liked to bask in them for as long as possible before they morphied into something else or became broken by interruptions.

He continued to glide his fingertips along her waist, drawing patterns into the pure white dress that crinkled and ruffled along her thighs and over her bent knees. He liked how her dress contrasted to the golden clothes he was wearing beneath the cold golden armour over the top. When being seen out in public, Geta was used to wearing his armour. It was for spectators as well as his own protection. They never knew what people were lurking around each corner.

While Geta had his eyes closed, (Y/n) took the opportunity to turn around so her back was no longer against his chest. She moved round so she was knelt up beside his thigh, now able to loop her arms around the back of his neck and lean her chest flush against his.

Her touch was surprising but very welcome and Geta's hands moved to cup her hips, digging his fingers into her flesh as he leaned further back and tilted his head so he was gazing up at his wife. His own Goddess.

The word "Beautiful," passed his lips as he gazed at her in splendor before he leaned forward to capture her in a kiss. The touch was soft and warm and loving and (Y/n) gasped into his mouth when she felt his teeth bite down on her lower lip.

(Y/n) began to stroke her thumb up and down the back of Geta's neck, brushing against the short hairs and tangling her finger in his longer locks at the back of his head. When she tightened her grip it earned a quiet growl to rumble from deep within Geta's chest. And she felt his hands tighten on her hips in retaliation and he scrunched her dress up between his fingers, just starting to pull up the material as if his intentions were to bunch her dress high around her hips.

She was sure that was what his intention was and she leaned further against his chest to try and deter him. Anyone could walk in. People didn't tend to knock on lounge or library doors the same as they would if the Emperor and Empress were in their personal chambers.

(Y/n) would hate to be caught by anyone if she and Geta were in a compromising position. She knew her husband wouldn't bat an eyelid, but she would.

When she tugged on his hair again and tilted his head back without breaking their kiss, (Y/n) felt his hands give a sharp pull on her hips. He was about to pull her onto his lap and (Y/n) would have obliged, if the wooden doors to the library didn't creak and groan as they opened.

Their lips quickly broke apart and (Y/n) glanced over her left shoulder while Geta let his head drop back against the sofa while he casually looked towards the doors.

A smile instantly formed on his lips and his fingers dug into (Y/n)'s hips, pulling her back down against his chest again when they both saw that it wasn't a guard or a servant requesting something from them.

It was Caracalla, with his niece in his arms.

Caracalla's hair looked rather disshevelled as if he had woken up from a hundred year nap, but he had a bright smile on his features and his head inclined to one side as he waltzed into the library.

He jostled his niece who was perched high on his chest with her little arms draped around the back of his neck and her head nuzzled up against his cheek.

There weren't many people in the palace that Geta would trust with his child. The nursemaid who had been employed with them since the princess's birth, the two guards who were to watch over the princess without fail, wherever she went. And his brother.

When the princess was with her parents or her uncle, no guards needed to constantly have her within their sights. They could walk a few paces back or wait outside the room rather than stand inside and observe.

"Oh, and what are you doing?"

Geta chose to ignore his brother's words and the smile that broadened on his features because they both knew what the couple had been doing.

As the large oak doors closed behind him, Caracalla walked further into the library, looking around the grand room he hardly ever came into anymore. He didn't find books fascinating, his attention span was short these days and with his changing moods, curtesy of his illness, the mood to sit peacefully and engage in a book never came about. He was either much too frivilous or much too riled to read.

But he knew his sister in law was quite often found in here and sometimes this was where he had to come in order to find his niece. Caracalla was immensely fond of her. He was childlike at heart and found he could entertain the little girl and enjoy spending time with her rather than most of the people who frequented the palace.

"She can walk, brother." Geta dropped one hand from (Y/n)'s hip so he could motion his hand towards his daughter.

His daughter had recently learned to walk and it made her much more of a trickster. Geta was forever finding her sliding the rings off his fingers and running off with them, clearly wanting him to play her game and chase her for the jewels.

And now that she could walk, it meant the princess would run into meetings and abscond around the palace with her maid right behind her, unable to stop her from trying to explore and find her parents. Geta never declined when his daughter found her way to the meetings and he would sit her on his lap and let her play with the jewellery hanging around his neck or the rings cladding his fingers while the Senates talked state business. Her presence was calming.

"Where's the fun in that?" Caracalla countered with pursed lips and a huff that ended with him kissing his niece's cheek.

He knew she could walk, she had ran right up to him this morning, clearly wanting him rather than her nursemaid and Caracalla obliged. He dismissed the maid immediately and took to wandering around the palace with the little princess by his side and then in his arms. He loved carrying her around. Why walk when she could be carried like the princess she was?

But he seemed to relent when she started to wriggle and he set her down to her feet so she could toddle across the dark purple and crimson rug with her arms outstretched towards her parents.

(Y/n) slowly turned back around and slumped back down on the sofa so she was sitting beside Geta rather than kneeling up against him. Her lips curved into a grin and her hands draped over Geta's shoulders when he leaned forward to reach out for her.

A squeal burst past Floriana's lips when Geta scooped her up from the floor and leaned back to sit her down on his lap.

"Hi flower," He murmured softly and when her little hands patted his cheeks, Geta obliged and leaned down to kiss her temple.

(Y/n) watched the both of them with fondness amplifying in her eyes and causing a bright smile to etch across her face. Her hands squeezed his shoulders and she leaned forward to perch her chin in the crook of his neck as a little incoherent murmur left their daughter's lips.

She loved to see Geta with their little girl. Although it was frowned upon to have the father at the birth, Geta had burst into the room when he couldn't wait around any longer and listen to his wife's tortured cries.

(Y/n) had been nervous when she had Floriana. She didn't know how Geta would react to a daughter, it was something that had rattled her and caused her many sleepless nights. Everyone had expected her to bear a son, to give an heir to the throne to secure Geta's place as Emperor. Having a girl simply meant everyone would be pressuring her to have a boy sooner or later as if she had done something wrong and she would have to keep retrying until she got it right.

Geta quashed those worries immediately. The tears in his eyes and the bright smile on his face when he held his daughter showed he wasn't disappointed in the slightest. He was enamoured with his little girl and he wouldn't change her for the world. She and (Y/n) were Geta's everything.

The three people in this room with him were his family. These were the people he would give his life for.

"Have you two had some fun?" (Y/n) reached her arm across to brush her finger against her daughter's cheek, watching the little girl giggle and burrow into Geta's chest.

Although her fingers started to tap against the golden armour covering his chest. She couldn't reach his undershirt or his robes. Floriana had a new obsession with hiding herself away in Geta's robes like she was doing some kind of magician's trick. With his armour in the way, she couldn't tuck herself into his clothes or make herself disappear.

"We've been for a stroll in the gardens with Dondus." Caracalla perched on the arm of the sofa nearest to (Y/n) and brought his feet up to rest on the sofa cushion. His sandals began to tap against the cushion and his hands patted his thighs as he continued to smile. He was in one of his good moods today.

When Floriana pushed up until she was stood on Geta's thigh, he tilted back to see what she was doing.

"What are you doing, little one?"

Her hands scrunched up in the collar of his shirt that poked through above his armour and her cheek flopped onto his shoulder near (Y/n) as she pushed into his chest. Geta kissed the top of her head with a smile as he realised that she was tired. She would need a nap now and if he had the time, he would lie right here and let her lay on his chest. He would cuddle her and stay with her as she slept if he could.

"Acacius is back from his venture, we should go and await his arrival." It wasn't like Caracalla to be prompt and ready to follow procedure, but they had sent the General on a mission to conquor lands in the name of Rome. And both Emperors were eager to hear of his triumph and know just how much he had procured for them while he had been away.

"We should." Geta hummed against the top of his daughter's head but the sigh he let out told (Y/n) he didn't really want to leave.

"I think we will stay here and have a nap while you await your victories." (Y/n) turned to gently ease their daughter into her own arms because she knew if she didn't, Geta was unlikely to let his daughter go.

She made a little whine at the movement but once her head was nestled into (Y/n)'s chest and she began drooling on her mother's sleeve, she seemed content. The little girl curled up in her mother's embrace who slouched back into the sofa so her daughter was lying down and could settle to sleep.

(Y/n) was more than eager to stay here in the library where it was quiet and serene. Her baby girl could take a nap and (Y/n) could continue reading while the Emperor's went about their business.

A lot of the ladies in court had told and advised (Y/n) to leave the nurturing of her daughter to the maids.

'That is what they are there for.'

That wasn't good enough. (Y/n) wanted to be with her daughter. She loved to read to her and cuddle her and take walks with her and be in her presence. (Y/n) wanted to be involved just the same as Geta rarely let his girl out of his sight when he wasn't in his meetings. He checked on her at almost every moment of the day, he wanted to be involved when she began to take her lessons and tutoring.

They would both be involved in their daughter's upbringing more than the servants and maids would be.

"Sleep," Caracalla muttered and grazed his fingers against his niece's thin strands of hair before he bounced up from the sofa to take his leave. He had done his job with entertaining her for the morning and now he could go and drown in spendor and victory.

"I won't be too long."

Geta pressed a finger beneath (Y/n)'s chin, tilting her head up towards him so he could steal a kiss from her warm lips. Her touch was enticing him to stay and he hummed against her lips, swiping his tongue against hers in a battle that had him yearning to stay here with them than to go and deal with the victories of Rome.

When (Y/n) finally pulled back for air, Geta groaned and bowed his forehead against hers. He didn't want to leave his girls.

"Rest, little flower." His words were hushed against Floriana's temple which he kissed, twice, and his finger brushed along her cheek before he finally parted from his girls. His eyes lingered on them as he left the library, feeling like he was walking away without his heart that had been left behind with them.

He wanted to be back with them already.

***

After both Emperors departed, it didn't take long for Floriana to drift into slumber, resting against her mother's chest. Her head was tucked against (Y/n)'s neck and she had curled up like a cub, dozing peacefully.

(Y/n) had her cheek resting on top of Floriana's head with one arm draped around her daughter and the other hand expertly balancing her book and preventing the pages from wavering and losing her place.

She wasn't sure how long they stayed there, tucked up in their own little world of peace together with no disrruptions or people clattering around and making a fuss. It was lovely to spend some time together with her little girl.

(Y/n) could feel her own eyes desperate to close but she powered through, wanting to use this time to read and sit with her daughter rather than fall to sleep and lose the moment.

They had been tucked up together for a long while before a quiet knock sounded at the door and (Y/n) looked over to see the nursemaid poking her head around the door. She wondered if the maid knew instinctively that the princess would be in here with her mother or if she had spent a while searching round the palace for the pair of them. Or maybe one of the Emperors had mentioned in passing where they both were.

It didn't matter either way. The maid walked into the room with a smile gracing her plump features as she looked down at the princess who was just beginning to stir in her mother's arms.

"Would you like me to take the princess for some lunch?"

"Please." (Y/n) nodded and placed the feather back in her book which she set down beside her.

She eased forward until Floriana was forced to sit up on her lap and the little girl rubbed her fist against her eyes to try and wake herself up. Her head lolled from left to right and a yawn escaped her lips as she smiled sweetly up at the maid who reached down to scoop her up.

They both knew if the princess tried walking now she would stumble or lay down with only just waking up and she would dawdle. It would be much easier to carry her back to her room to have something to eat.

(Y/n) pressed a kiss to her temple and brushed her short strands of golden hair away from her little eyes before she was in the maid's arms.

"Are you joining us, Empress?"

"Soon, I'll find the Emperor first." It wouldn't be fitting for (Y/n) not to find out how their meeting with General Acacius had gone- or was still going, depending on how long this meeting would drag out for.

(Y/n) knew the Emperors would entertain the General and want to hear about every triumph and each obstacle he overcame so they knew how to better strategize their next invasion. And she knew as Empress that she needed to take an interest too and find out how things had gone.

She watched with a smile as the maid nodded and left the library with the Princess bundled up in her arms, still half asleep.

(Y/n) wasn't that hungry yet, anyway. She would take a walk to liven herself up and then go and see how things were fairing with both Emperors. Hopefully this meeting would go well and there would be reason for triumph and celebrations. (Y/n) knew both Emperors were desperate to entertain more Gladiators in the colosseum. It wasn't a sport that (Y/n) particularly enjoyed witnessing, but seeing her husband so eager and cheering and giving the casting vote of a Gladiator's life was thrilling to watch.

With her book laid on the small table beside the sofa, (Y/n) stood up and smoothed down the wrinkles in her dress that pooled towards her ankles. The pure white cotton always glistened when she walked in the sunlight and Geta always commented that she reminded him of a star with how the light sparkled on her when she wore white. A blinding beauty was how he often described her.

She made her way to the door and headed out of the quiet library, into the corridor that had very limited windows and therefore not much light. The shadows cast darker in this corridor and made (Y/n) feel like she was wandering the palace in darkness rather than the middle of the day.

The sound of her sandals clicking against the stones echoed and bounced off the walls and she slowly descended towards the end of the hall to the stairs.

(Y/n) wasn't too sure whereabouts her husband would be having this meeting with Acacius, but she knew it would be downstairs. Either in one of the drawing rooms or the great hall which they used for meetings with the Senate. The only thing she was sure of was that he and Caracalla would speak to Acacius on their own. Without an audience so they could truly discuss their plans and news.

A gasp tumbled past her lips and she stepped back just before she reached the corridor leading to the stairs when a firm chest almost barrelled into her.

Her left hand pressed into the wall and her right hand pressed against her chest to steady her breathing.

Her round eyes looked up to see who she had almost collided with and she stepped back again to add a bit more space between them and make sure that she wouldn't tumble over.

"Oh, General Caius." (Y/n) nodded her head at the General who stood tall in front of her.

He was one of the men she didn't know too well. (Y/n) knew only a few of the Generals who paraded round the palace and led her husband's armies. Caius was one of the men she was more acquainted with but she never really had many dealings with him. It was usually a smile in passing when he would come to deliver news to the Emperors.

"Empress." He bowed his head to her and (Y/n) watched a smile light up his features.

His smile seemed somehow too large and crooked for his face and the way his beady eyes trained in on her made her chest tighten. Being married to an Emperor made (Y/n) the subject of scrutiny by many people, and it was never something she handled well.

She couldn't help the way she cast her eyes around the hall as if waiting for someone to wander out of one of the rooms and cease this awkward encounter or strike up a conversation.

"Have you seen the Emperor?"

"No my lady." When he stepped closer, (Y/n) tried to form a placid smile as she carefully stepped to the right. "No guards?"

The way Caius cast his eyes around the hall and ticked his head made (Y/n) look behind her rather stupidly. She knew she didn't have guards following her. Geta had agreed to her wishes not to be followed around the palace at every waking moment.

When she had been pregnant, he had been a little less willing and made sure the guards followed at a safe distance behind (Y/n), for his peace of mind. And of course if the princess wasn't with her parents or uncle, she was to be guarded at all times. But Geta had allowed (Y/n) the luxury of not having guards trailing her every movement if she did not want them to.

She only had guards if she left the palace or when they were entertaining company, for curtesy.

Caius knew this. He often did guard duties in the palace from time to time and he knew (Y/n) was different to the Emperors. Both Emperors liked to have guards nearby, they never knew who might be lurking around each corner or when someone might turn into an enemy and attack. Whereas this had never happened to (Y/n) so she had no reason to think it might happen now.

"Good day, General." Dipping her head down in curtesy, (Y/n) scratched her fingers against the palm of her hands as she stepped to the right a little more to try and walk around Caius.

She had no wish to entertain him in conversation today, she wanted to go and find her family and celebrate their victories.

Her eyes trained on the floor, following the cracks in the carefully carved stone but a jolt ran through her system and made her chest tighten horribly when a hand curled around her upper arm. Her feet stumbled over one another and her shoulder bashed into Caius's chest when he roughly pulled her back towards him.

"What's the rush?" His voice seemed to lower an octave and his grin had turned sickening as he stared down at her.

His fingers were starting to grip bruisingly into (Y/n)'s flesh and when she tried to yank her arm out of his hold, he simply reeled her back towards him again.

What was he doing?

"You forget your place. General." (Y/n) held her chin high and ground her jaw as she wrenched her arm out of his hold and fought the urge to reach out and slap him for his indignation.

He had no right to be grabbing her like that. (Y/n) wanted to go and he had no cause to stop her or try to entertain a conversation with her when she said no. All it took was one word to Geta for General Caius to be demoted; not that (Y/n) would ever want to use her status and power like that, but she would if she had to.

"And you clearly don't know yours, my lady." The way he sneered down at her made (Y/n)'s stomach churn but before she could try and bolt towards the stairwell, he grabbed her. Again.

A hand curled around the back of her neck with shuch a viper's grip that (Y/n) felt too afraid to breathe. She felt his other hand press down against the centre of her chest and her tense legs tripped and scuffed her heels against the floor when Caius pushed her back until she was pressed against the wall.

The cold stone bruised her shoulders and her spine ached when she jolted back against the wall, staring up at Caius in terror.

No one had ever been so bold as to do anything like this to her before. They knew who she was married to. They knew the madness that dwelled within her husband and the deep rage that jealousy provoked within him. If someone so much as looked at (Y/n) for a second too long, Geta's arm was around her waist and his petrifying gaze was burning into whoever was looking at her.

He had dismissed men from the palace for staring or hovering too close to his wife and for striking up much too informal conversations with her.

(Y/n) didn't want to think what he would do to a General under his command who laid a hand on his wife and who would try and put her in such a compromising position.

"Caius- that's enough!" (Y/n) clenched her hand around his wrist and tried to force his hand from her chest where he was pushing her so harshly into the wall that the stone was beginning to grate againt her exposed shoulders. But she couldn't seem to move when he all but thrust her back against the wall again and his head inclined closer to hers.

He took two steps closer until the smooth silver armour he wore clinked against her chest. It felt like (Y/n) was trapped between two walls that were closing in on her. At any moment she felt like she was going to be crushed.

When his other hand moved down and had the audacity to grip her hip, (Y/n) let go of his wrist. She reeled her arm back and slapped him across the face with as much force as she could muster.

The blunt force caused Caius's head to propell to the left and it weakened his hand against her chest enough for (Y/n) to push against him and stumble to one side.

Why was he doing this? Didn't he know the punishment for this would certainly be his death? If he went any further in his torturous advances, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop Geta from unleashing Hell onto him. If he stopped now, if he backed off and let (Y/n) hurry to Geta, then Caius would get away with being stripped of his General status and being exiled from Rome. But if he continued, (Y/n) wouldn't be able to stop her husband from taking his life.

"That was bold." Caius rose one hand to his mouth where he could taste blood from where he bit his tongue from the slap. But the way his grin splintered into a sideways smirk showed he wasn't going to stop at that.

(Y/n) screamed when his hand knotted in her hair and dragged her back against his chest, but when a thin hand blade was pressed over her neck, her voice cut short.

"Don't make me use this." He pressed the knife deeper against her throat until (Y/n) couldn't breathe without discomfort, as if she didn't know what he was referring to. "Although I do wonder… does your blood run blue when cut?"

A cry bubbled up in (Y/n)'s throat but she clamped her mouth shut and closed her eyes to try and steady herself. Her hands grasped Caius's arm to stop herself from wavering and to try and keep him from pressing the blade too far and cutting off her breathing.

Oh dear.

How was she going to get out of this? How was she going to explain this situation to Geta? Her husband wasn't going to react well. She needed to get out of this now before Caius did something horrible. (Y/n) didn't want to know if he would cut her or not. She didn't want to be hurt with a blade. She didn't want to know what his intentions were or how far he would go or if he would truly try and defile an Empress.

His motives were clear and disgusting.

The word 'no' uttered past her lips and her neck tensed and began to tremble against the blade as she tried to push him back but it wasn't working.

The blade held her in place and when she felt his free hand move to clutch at her lip it felt like his fingers were fangs piercing into her skin. She could feel her dress being scrunched up in his fist along with how tightly he was gripping her skin that would surely bruise beneath his poisonous touch.

With what effort she could muster, (Y/n) rose her knee up and rammed it into his crotch as swiftly as she could manage. But the movement caused Caius to crash forwards into her as he doubled over with a loud grunt.

His face pressed awfully close to hers until (Y/n) could see the emotions bubbling over in his eyes. Rage. Lust. Anger. All of it, mixing together in a sinister concotion that had her stomach churning in fright.

She could barely draw in a proper breath with Caius pressing into her and the blade against her throat. But she tried. She tried to inhale one deep breath that expanded her lungs to the max and allowed her to hold her breath so she could push forward.

She took the risk of pressing her throat further into the blade until she could feel a slight sting and a few droplets of blood dribbled across the blade. It caused Caius to pull his arm back an inch or two.

He didn't want to cut her. He didn't want to use the blade unless he had to. He was smart. He hoped the threat of inflicting pain would be enough to subdue (Y/n) and make her listen to him. Actually harming her wasn't something Caius wanted to do because he knew if he was caught and (Y/n) was harmed, that would be it.

Harming the Emperor's wife was a death sentence and although Caius was playing with fire, he didn't want to get burned.

"Enough!" The word spat past (Y/n)'s lips in a breathless scream and she thrashed her arms out until they bashed down into Caius's elbows, forcing his arms to tense and drop down.

The action caused the knife to slice through her skin. It wasn't deep enough to reach muscle, but it was enough to make (Y/n)'s knees shake in agony and a scream erupted from her lips. The feeling of her skin peeling apart like fruit made her body cringe and writhe. She felt the knife carve from the side of her neck down to her collar bone.

When Caius's arm slid from her frame, the knife roughly slashed against (Y/n)'s dress, cutting the strap across her right shoulder so the material hung loose and barely stayed over her chest.

With her right hand cradling her neck and feeling the blood trickling across her palm, (Y/n) thrust her other arm out until she smacked the General at any angle and area of his body that she could. She flung her left side into him, shoving him back as she tripped over her skirts and stumbled away from him.

Her feet became caught in her dress that was floundering around her like sails caught in the wind and her body slumped against the wall to her right to stop herself going down on her knees.

Tears tumbled down her face as another scream belted past her lips, trying in vain to alert anyone that she needed help. There had to be someone around here. Surely. Someone had to be walking these halls or cleaning the rooms on this floor or just loitering around. There had to be someone who could hear her.

"I will have you!"

Caius's shrill, gritty tone made (Y/n) whimper and she turned around just in time to raise her left arm in defence when she saw the glittering edge of the blade coming towards her. The blade cut through her forearm deeper than the wound to her neck and had her arm trembling and coiling back towards her chest.

Why was he doing this? Why (Y/n)? Was the thought of harming or defiling an Empress worth the price he was going to pay for this?

Surely he knew that if he didn't kill (Y/n), she would tell Geta and that her husband wasn't likely to ignore her. Geta would believe her, he wouldn't never think his wife was lying and therefore Caius would have no defence when Geta found him. He couldn't lie his way out of this situation.

When his hand clenched around her upper arm and gave a rough twist, (Y/n) stumbled towards him. She let herself go limp and allowed him to drag her to her knees before him while her right hand slithered round from her tense, bleeding neck to scrunch her fingers up into her hair.

Caius seemed too interested with the sight of the Empress on her knees before him to notice what she was doing. His eyes were roaming her skin, taking in the sight of her tense throat that was gasping for air and her heaving chest trying to regain enough oxygen so she didn't pass out. He seemed to enjoy the hatred pooling in her eyes that would not look up beyond his chin, she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of staring into those beastly eyes.

He made the mistake of leaning towards her. He made the grave error of letting go of her arm in favour of grasping her chin which he man handled so he could tilt her head back and roughly force his lips against hers. He was so rough that his teeth clashed against hers and caused her lip to cut against her teeth and the touch was sickening.

But the distraction was enough. (Y/n)'s trembling fingers pulled one of the pins from her hair that had previously kept her hair pinned neatly at the back of her head. Tendrils of hair fell loose as (Y/n) clenched the thin metal between her thumb and index finger.

Her watering eyes narrowed and she focused on the General before her as she thrust her hand forward until the pin punctured into his eye.

The action made her stomach churn and she could feel bile rising at the back of her throat as she gagged. The squelching sound made (Y/n) cough through a cry and when Caius roared, (Y/n) took her chance.

She twisted his wrist until the blade punctured through his lower abdomen where the silver armour he wore could not reach to protect him.

Another roar of agony left the General's lips as he crashed to his knees. Blood lathered around his eye socket where his eyelid was pinned closed and blood continued to trickle down his face. His white robes beneath his armour quickly started to change like a magician's trick, turning a horrible shade of crimson.

The wound in his abdomen wasn't as deep as (Y/n) wanted it to be, but she didn't have the strength to push the blade any further when it needed so much effort and Caius's hand was fighting against her, repelling her motion. But the flesh wound was all she needed to escape him.

(Y/n) sank back on her heels and scraped her bloodied hands along the floor so she could turn over and scramble to her feet.

Her hands bunched around her dress, yanking it up so she had no fear or tripping over her skirts as she pelted down the hall.

Tears whipped across her face, horrid wheezing breaths tumbled past her lips causing her chest to heave. And blood coated her previously crystal white dress that was now ruined. She would never be able to wear this dress again. She would never wear white again or look at her white gowns in the same way.

She looked like a ruined work of art.

Blood coated her palms. It dried like flecks of paint along her neck and she could feel slithers trickling down her chest beneath her dress. The fact that Caius's blood was now painted across her dress made (Y/n) want to be sick.

Her sandals slid across the stairs and had her stumbling down three steps at once causing her to grip the handrail before she tumbled down the staircase.

Terrified sounds tumbled past her lips and tears blurred her vision as she gasped for breath, running on adrenaline and fear.

(Y/n) coiled both her arms into her chest and bowed her head, running slightly hunched over to try and rid herself of the pulsing pains coursing through her body in time with her rapid heartbeat. Her eyes aimed on the floor that blurred before her eyes and she ran off memory. It was a relief that she knew this palace like the back of her hand and could run its halls in the dead of night with her eyes closed.

A scream erupted past her lips when her shoulder collided with another and sent her veering to the right.

"My lady-"

(Y/n) recognised the voice of the maid she had clearly barged into, but she couldn't place her name. Her mind was too scrambled to make sense of anything except for the fact that she needed her husband. Now.

"No!" (Y/n) flung her arm out when the maid tried to rest a hand on her shoulder. She didn't care for anyone's touch or anyone trying to help her. It was too little too late. She needed help ten minutes ago when the General had started his attack. Not now, when she had already defended herself and took care of the matter on her own.

Her feet picked up the pace and she was back to pelting unsteadily down the corridor, aiming for the great hall. If her husband wasn't in there then (Y/n) would find the nearest servant and demand them to find him. But she had to keep moving. Standing around in empty corridors was clearly unsafe now. She had to move until she was somewhere safe. With someone safe.

"You have brought great victory to Rome, General. You must be rewarded." Geta's fingers tangled together behind his back while he looked at Acacius stood opposite him and his brother.

They had listened to him reel off the plans of attack, what had worked and what needed improvement. The land he had procured for them and how they had only lost a few good men in their army.

They would plan games in the General's honour, to celebrate what he had done for the good of Rome.

Geta glanced over at his brother who was stood to his right with a beaming smile and a chuckle of agreement. Caracalla was all for celebrations, especially if it meant watching the games in the colosseum. The more blood and guts and gore, the better, in their opinion.

Just as Geta went to say something else, the words faded out on his tongue and he twisted to look behind him over his shoulder when the large oak doors burst open.

Reprimands and arguments flooded his mind as he was ready to punish whoever it was for entering the hall without knocking. Without permission. The servants knew not to interrupt, they knew a meeting was taking place and none of them were needed and should not interrupt.

He found no such arguments getting past his lips when he realised who had burst into the room.

His wife.

Such a belting scream emmitted past (Y/n)'s lips that Geta cringed and his shoulders rose up while his brother flinched and grunted at the noise.

Geta found his jaw hanging open and every part of his body turned rigid at the sight he was faced with.

His wife dropped to her knees once she was two feet over the threshold into the hall. Her body went down with a thump that echoed off the walls and her arms encased around her waist while she leaned forward and bowed her head. Her hair fell all around her in tangled knots and rampid curls that had come loose from their earlier, beautiful style that Geta had witnessed not more than an hour ago.

But it was the sight of his wife's dress that left Geta speechless and on the brink of collapsing himself. Blood. It tainted her dress. It embellished her smooth skin and speckled across her face and mingled with her torrential tears.

"Guards! Fetch the guards- and a healer. Now!" Geta spat the words as he shoved his hand into Acacius's shoulder to get him to move fast.

The General seemed as panicked and confused as both Emperors, but he nodded. One hand moved to grip the hilt of his blade just in case he encountered some thieves or thugs or crazed lunatic running around the palace. Acacius glanced his eyes down at the Empress as he rushed past her, panic and pain filling his gaze as he hurried past her.

He didn't have time to stop and try to help, he had to fetch a healer and alert the guards that there was a clear problem within the palace.

Geta could feel his brother hurrying behind him as the pair of them aimed for (Y/n).

The marbled floor hurt when Geta sank down to his knees before his wife and his hands immediately found her elbows so he could carefully reel her up so she was no longer crumpled over her thighs. He had to know what had happened. He had to know where all the blood was coming from. He had to help her. Somehow.

He couldn't help the way he flinched when he reached out for (Y/n) and her blood and tears soaked into his palms. His teeth sank down into his lower lip while he cupped her face in his hands and began smoothing his thumbs beneath her eyes to try and coax her to look at him.

But as Geta tilted her head back and tried to look her up and down, he didn't like what he saw.

There was a large cut, not too deep but not exactly superficial, going down the bottom of her neck and ended in the centre of her collar bone. And when (Y/n) reached her trembling hands up to grasp Geta's wrists, he tilted back and leaned his head down to look at the wound on her left arm. Blood was coating her arm like a red scarf had been wrapped around her forearm and droplets were splotching onto the otherwise clear marble floor.

Not to mention the fact that the right sleeve of her dress had been ripped, causing the top of her dress to bunch and sit lower on her chest than it had been earlier.

Someone was going to pay for this.

Geta's manic eyes couldn't stop roaming up and down his wife's frame and his hands were at the point of trembling until he was nearly shaking her head in his grasp. He couldn't find any words, all he could do was take note of each mark, each droplet of blood and each scuff mark on her skin. Noting all the discrepencies that someone was going to pay for. Each mark would account for every stab wound Geta would personally inflict on whoever was the cause of this.

"Where is little flower?" Caracalla looked from (Y/n) to glance behind her and then he darted his eyes around the room. His voice filled with a sudden air of panic and his features became enraged with every passing second.

His niece had been with (Y/n) when both Emperors left them. Was she too injured? Was she alright? Did they need a healer for the Princess too? Did the Emperors have to gut someone for daring to harm a hair on both the Empress and the Princess's heads?

A sudden breathlessness took over Geta when the thought of his daughter came to mind. He looked from his brother to his wife, noticing how his brother was starting to huff and his features had gone bright red at the thought of something happening to Floriana.

Where was his daughter?

"W- wi- with the maid. Safe." The words barely spluttered past (Y/n)'s lips. She couldn't find the nerve to speak and her panicked breaths and rapid heartbeat made it hard to utter a proper sentence.

But she had to let them know that Floriana was safe. (Y/n) dreaded to think what the General would have done if Floriana had been in (Y/n)'s arms when he approached her. Maybe he would have resisted and carried on walking. Maybe he would have hurt the princess too in order to get to the Empress. Perhaps he would have tried to drag (Y/n) away from her daughter. The possibilities were endless and each possible outcome made (Y/n) shudder and whimper. Thank the Gods her daughter had been and still was with her maid.

"Who did this?"

The tone of Geta's voice made (Y/n) cry harder and she couldn't meet his gaze until his hands were cupping her face more firmly and he tilted her head up so she had no choice but to look at him.

He wanted names. He wanted to know exactly who he had to castrate and murder for this madness.

"C-Caius."

"The General?"

Both Geta and Caracalla shared a look of confusion with each other while (Y/n) pulled her face out of Geta's hands so she could push forward into his embrace. Her face buried in his shoulder and her hands clutched at one of his arms, reeling it into her chest as she tried to curl up as if wanting to make herself disappear.

A General had done this? A man of power and influence, someone who should know much better than to mess with an Emperor's wife. A man who was trusted with the ruling and discipline of the Emperor's armies. A man like that had done this to the Empress of Rome.

"What did he do?" Geta feared to ask the question because he wasn't sure what kind of answer he would receive. The tears pouring down his wife's face told him the General had vastly overstepped the mark and tried to harm her, but exactly what he had done was unknown to Geta. He couldn't get the full story simply by looking at her wounds.

"He h- had a blade, he… he pinned me to t-the wall, but I stabbed him." (Y/n) closed her eyes, shuddering at the mere memory of what she had done.

She had never stabbed anyone before. She had never so much as slapped anyone before today, she had no need. No one had ever been inappropriate with (Y/n) before and the only person who had insulted her had almost been blinded when Geta fought him for the indignation.

"Okay." Geta hushed quietly while a mixture of relief and violent torment circled through his system.

The General clearly hadn't gotten as far as he wanted, Thank the Gods, but knowing he had even tried in the first place made Geta's fury boil over. (Y/n) had had to resort to stabbing him. She had resorted to defending herself when she shouldn't of had to, not in her own palace where she was supposed to be safe from threats and vile people like that.

Once Acacius led the way back into the hall, he was followed by a dozen guards, all waiting for instructions but instinctively on the look out for anything and anyone who looked out of place. Their eyes cast around the room but all fell silent when they looked down at the Empress.

One of Geta's hands moved to carefully cradle the back of (Y/n)'s head and the other arm encased around her waist, making sure she was tucked up safe against his chest. His lips smothered her temple for a few moments before he looked up at Acacius.

There was a great fire burning within Geta's eyes to rival the worst atrocities in the colosseum and the way his upper lip curled into a snarl was more than unsettling to witness.

"The healer is in the drawing room." Acacius could barely find his voice. His words were low and his eyes cast on the floor as he spoke. He didn't dare look at the Empress. Something told him that Geta would strike any of them if they dared to look at his wife while she was in such a state.

"Come here, my love." Geta's voice was unusually calm and the words were whispered against the shell of (Y/n)'s ear.

Her whole body broke out in trembles when Geta carefully moved her arms to loop them around the back of his neck. He left her face tucked up into the crook of his neck while his arms swooped around her lower back and the other slid beneath her knees.

He eased her against his chest and pushed up from his knees that had gone numb with how he had been knelt on the cold floor. It was hard for Geta to stop from digging his fingers into her skin. All he wanted to do was squeeze and grip her as tightly as he could but he knew better than to do that and risk hurting her anymore than she already had been.

His lips attached to her temple but his steely eyes focused ahead of him as he stormed out of the hall and into the corridor lined with guards who were watching and waiting his every move.

"What are you all looking at?!"

It took Geta by surprise, but he didn't shudder or jerk when he heard his brother's sudden scream. He simply pursed his lips and took a deep breath while he continued in his strides towards the drawing room that overlooked the gardens.

He could feel Caracalla and Acacius following close behind while the guards hung back a few steps, clearly unsettled by Caracalla's outburst. If any of them were caught staring at the Empress, Caracalla might raise his own sword to their throats. He was liable to fleeting moods and he was rattled, anything and anyone could provoke him. His sister had been hurt, he wouldn't take this lightly.

(Y/n) kept her face smothered in Geta's neck, brushing her chin and lips over the golden armour cladding Geta's shoulder. She could feel the cold metal turning her arms numb and making her blood run cold, but it was soothing when her skin felt like it had been overheating until now.

She wanted to disappear. (Y/n) wanted to curl up and make herself as small as possible. She wanted everyone to leave, she wanted this nightmare to end and to wake up like she had this morning with no problems on the horizon.

Once Geta stormed into the drawing room, he stormed ahead to the sofa that was in front of the large canopy windows and he knelt down to carefully lower (Y/n) onto the sofa. He sat down beside her, allowing her to continue to curl into his armour.

He cupped the side of her bloodied face and smothered his lips against the top of her head, breathing into her hair and inhaling her scent to try and calm himself down. He didn't remove his other arm from her waist that kept her tucked up against him. If the healers wanted to help her, they would have to do so while she was wrapped up in her husband's embrace.

The sound of Geta's voice murmuring "It's okay, you're okay," caused (Y/n) to cry harder and she didn't dare lift her head from his chest. She didn't want to look at anyone and see the fear or the sorrow filling their eyes. She didn't want their gazes falling on her.

It was a relief to see that the two healers had already started to get things prepared. There was a small table moved beside the sofa, covered with balms, remedies, cloths soaked in cleansing oils, bandages and opium, for the pain the Empress was clearly suffering.

"I want General Caius found and brought to me."

"The General?" The implication in Geta's voice was clear, but Acacius couldn't quite wrap his head around it. Surely this madness couldn't be down to the General's doing. Surely Caius hadn't done or caused all of this.

Acacius was a General himself and he would never dare to lay a hand on the Empress without great reason. It was rare for anyone to strike up a conversation with the Empress. For someone to lay a hand on her, to harm her in such a way was unspeakable and unthought of. No one would imagine something like this happening, within the palace no less.

Acacius took a step back, his eyes casting down when he found himself under Geta's scrutinising gaze. The way Geta's lips curled was frightening and the vengeance he wanted was clearly written across his face.

"He has maimed my wife!"

His usually pale complexion was overrun with colour. The make up Geta wore couldn't hide the blood rushing to the surface of his skin and the black make up smudged beneath his eyes only made him look deathly and spiteful. "Look what he's done to her!"

Geta realised his voice may have been a fraction too loud when he felt (Y/n) whimper and flinch in his arms, but he couldn't help it.

Could General Acacius not see what had been done to his Empress? Could he not see that she had told Geta exactly who had done this and that Geta wanted his head?

He wanted Caius brought to him now, and he wanted to inflict the fires of Hell onto him for this madness.

"And I want guards with the Princess. She is to be within their sights at all times."

With the wave of his hand, the General and the guards all left the room in search of Caius. Three guards stayed positioned outside the doors, making sure no one came in without permission. They would all be stationed to protect the Empress from now on. She wouldn't be walking the halls alone again, not after this.

And four guards were ordered to go to the Princess's chambers and keep watch over her. They were to make sure she was alright and ensure no one visited her or went too close to her. The Empress had already been attacked, Geta wouldn't stand for his daughter being hurt or frightened in any sense.

A frustrated growl left Geta's lips. He couldn't foresee how this atrocity had happened. Guards should have heard the commotion. Servants should have been filtering around the palace at some point. Someone should have stopped this. Were these people not paid enough to look after their rulers? Were they incompetent? Would Geta have to replace each and every one of them to ensure the safety of his family?

Whatever Geta grunted and grumbled under his breath went unheard by (Y/n) and the healers around them.

She tried to nuzzle her face into Geta's neck but her watering eyes opened when she found his hand cradling her chin and he carefully tilted her head back on his shoulder so he could look down upon her.

Without saying a word, he took one of the cloths from the table and began working to rid the blood from his wife's features. It felt like polishing a diamond, cleansing away every bitter element of the world to find the beauty hidden beneath. He scrubbed the flecks of blood away, watching as hazy burnt orange water the same as his hair trickled down her features as the blood was cleaned away.

The healers didn't make a sound, allowing Geta to be the one to clean the wound on (Y/n)'s neck so they could apply tonics and rags soaked in lotion. The wound wasn't deep enough to require stitches, the tonics would help the skin mend back together on its own and as long as it was clean, there would be no infection to deal with.

When he was done, Geta tossed the rag onto the floor and went back to gluing his lips against his wife's temple. He resisted the urge to start swaying them from side to side, knowing that would make the healer's job much harder as he was tending to the cut on her forearm. That one would require stitches, the blood loss made that very clear.

His thumb stroked across (Y/n)'s jaw while his other hand tensed and twitched against her hip, trying to control the rage that was mounting up within him. But when he glanced to the left, adrenaline fueled his heart and made extra beats course through his blood when he noticed Acacius had crept back into the room.

With a lasting kiss to the side of (Y/n)'s temple, Geta carefully slid from sitting behind her and approached the General.

He was pleased when his brother took his place, sitting down beside (Y/n) with a tepid smile and his hand held out so (Y/n) could squeeze his hand. Caracalla took it upon himself to take the vile of opium and press it to his sister in law's lips, urging her to drink so the pain in her arm would be lessened and the discomfort from the gash in her neck would go away. And with any luck, it might help her sleep.

"We found him." Acacius murmured quietly and the grave look on his face told Geta all he needed to know. By the looks of him when they found him, there was no doubt that he had been the one who attacked the Empress.

The weak sound of (Y/n) trying to call out his name had Geta shivering, but he didn't look back. He couldn't. If he looked at her, he wouldn't be able to leave her and right now, he had to. As much as he wanted to stay by his wife's side, he had to let the healers tend to her wounds so Geta himself could tend to the obscenity that had caused this mess. The threat needed to be vanquished.

Geta let the General lead him through the twists and turns of the palace until they were down in the dungeon.

It had been a while since Geta had been down here, it wasn't a place he frequented often. He sent people here, he sent a lot of people down here, but he didn't administrate the torture they received or visit them as they spent many days, weeks, sometimes even months down here.

If he ever unleashed his violence on people, it was usually up in the main quarters of the palace. In front of servants or an audience.

But this was different. This was a General that Geta had to deal with. And although the people of Rome would be understanding that someone hurting the Empress needed to be punished, they wouldn't take kindly to witnessing a General being slain.

This was a necessity. No one got away with harming the Emperor's wife. General Caius had taken liberties and Geta needed to show him that he wouldn't allow that and that the price was his life. He had to pay for his crimes.

His sandals clicked against the grime covered stones lining the floor, differing from the marble floor that was in many of the upstairs chambers of the palace. The torches did nothing to cast a good light around the dungeon, the lighting was dim but it glimmered off of Geta's golden armour.

He removed the sword from his belt and tossed it to one side. Caius didn't deserve a swift end. Geta wouldn't grant him that.

Once Acacius led him to one of the cells on the right and a guard unlocked the iron door, Geta lowered his head to step inside the small cell with an oval brick ceiling matching that of the wine cellar.

One brow arched and his head angled to the side, both to overlook the General and to stop his golden hair from touching the low ceiling. Geta's eyes narrowed in scrutiny and something of a smile formed across his lips as he looked over the doomed General.

Hands bound in shackles chained to the wall. On his knees where he belonged in the grime and dirt and puddles of water that leaked through the small slits in the ceiling that provided very little light. The General had his head lowered but once he lifted his chin, something seemed to wash over him and his skin turned pale.

Geta revelled in the way Caius shivered and how his chest started to rise and fall rapidly, sensing his impending doom at the sight of one of his Emperors stood before him.

Turning to the side, Geta overlooked the wooden table in the corner of the room right beside the door. Everything he needed to ensure a torturous death; everything from tongue clamps to iron pokers and a various assortment of blades.

With a deep breath and a wider smile, Geta waved his hand to dismiss Acacius. He didn't need a witness or any protection, and Caius was going to receive no mercy. Geta didn't want Acacius to try and vouch for this man or try to earn the sparing of his life. He was going to die, Geta had already decided upon it.

Once Acacius departed to wait outside the chamber, Geta crouched down in front of Caius. His arms perched on his thighs and a sickening grin lit up his face as he leaned in close to inspect the wounds on Caius. He reached out and roughly gripped Caius's chin, twisting his head from left to right to take a good look at his wife's handiwork. She shouldn't have needed to defend herself in the first place, but nonetheless, Geta was proud of her.

"My wife has wounded you well; I have come to finish the task."

Whatever had been stabbed into his eye had been removed, but the blood was still covering the eye socket and both eyelids had swollen shut over his eye. He stared across at the Emperor with only one good eye to witness his own demise. And there was a lovely puddle of blood gathering around his knees from a wound beneath his armour.

They hadn't bothered to call a healer for him. What use would it do to patch up a condemned man? He was already dead, he just hadn't known it until now.

He roughly let go of Caius's chin, allowing his head to drop down while he rose to his feet and turned to face the table of instruments. Geta's fingers danced across each one before he decided which one to use first.

When he crouched back down in front of the General, glee lit up his face when he saw the panic strike Caius right in the heart. His head began to shake and he tried to shuffle back, but Geta tutted. He should know better.

"Tsk-tsk. True Generals show no fear; and true Emperors shall show no mercy."

Caius had nowhere to move to, he was limited by the iron clasped around his wrists and the chain welded to the brick wall. He dropped from his knees to flop onto the floor with his heels scraping against the puddle of blood beneath him and his back slumped into the wall.

His good eye screwed shut and he swallowed down a groan when Geta gripped his face and squeezed his cheeks until he had no choice but to open his mouth. The iron clamp snapped down into Caius's tongue, earning a croaked groan as Geta pulled the clamp so his tongue was on display. He knew the General knew what this meant, he was sure the General had used this device before. The tongue was either twisted until the muscle snapped or it was held until a blade sliced through the muscle and the tongue was cut out.

Geta slowly rose to his feet, a sickening look crossing his face as he reached out for a suitable blade. He stood close and hovered over the General like a beacon of Death. The Emperor was the bridge between life and death, he would deliver the General personally to the Angel of death.

"When I am done with you, what's left can be fed to the beasts in the colosseum."

***

A grimace flooded Acacius's face and his nose scrunched up as he tried to hold his breath so he didn't gag or make a disgruntled sound. He was used to witnessing death, he saw it whenever he went into battle and when he oversaw the games at the colosseum.

But he had never witnessed the gruesome death of a fellow General before. And the sight of the Emperor in front of him was one that was rather unsettling.

Geta glided down the hall like he was walking on air and the calm look on his face contradicted the heinous act he had just carried out.

It was as if he didn't seem to notice his attire was not all that fitting of an Emperor, but it seemed more fair to say that he just didn't care. He didn't care that his golden armour gladding his chest was now smeared with blood. He didn't care about the clear, bloodied hand print on the base of his robes near his knee from where Caius had begged for mercy. In vain.

Geta didn't see a problem with his ghostly white features that were now painted with a mixture of blood and dirt.

He paid no mind to the blood and grit stuck beneath his short nails, or the tiny cuts to his fingers and the palms of his hands from where he had hacked blades into Caius's flesh.

The clothes he was wearing would have to be burned, there was no saving the mixture of white and gold cloth from the stains this afternoon's torment had littered them with. And Geta would need to bathe and soak in boiling water for at least an hour to rid every morsel of blood and grime from his body.

He didn't care.

The smile on his wicked features said as much as he waltzed down the hall until he reached his chambers.

He wanted to see his wife. He wanted to see how she was fairing, how her wounds had been treated and if she was feeling any better. And Geta wanted her to see and bask in the blood and guts that he was painted with like a massacred work of art. Geta wanted her to know that he had taken care of the threat posed to her. He wanted her to see that she was safe and know that whatever Caius had tried to do to her, he got his comeuppance ten times worse.

He had already made sure that the Princess was in her own room and therefore wouldn't have to see her father in this state. Geta knew the Princess wouldn't understand and would most likely think it was paint that was covering her father, but Geta still didn't want this memory imprinted on her small, innocent mind.

Geta opened the chamber doors like he was walking out into a bright summers day and taking his first gulp of fresh air.

He cast his eyes around the room, noticing his brother sat on the chair by the window with Dondus perched happily on his shoulder, chittering away. And when he looked towards the bed, he saw her. His wife, his reason for living, sat in the centre of the bed looking like she wanted to fall to sleep but couldn't quite manage the task yet.

When their eyes met, their silent gaze spoke a thousand unsaid words as Geta strode towards her. It was all their in his eyes, his smile, his attire and his now crimson skin.

She was safe. He had made sure of that.

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