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tmwcs · 3 days ago

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PART ONE

Warnings: Nothing unusual to report…not yet. Just references from the last two fairy tales posted in Masterlist. This includes the teaser posted two days ago. If you’ve read the teaser, skip through until you see the red text. That’s where the additional part of the story continues.

“Young girl in the local area is the second to disappear without a trace. Authorities are on high alert and encourage all women to remain at home and avoid traveling alone.”

You click on the abrupt notification–the article details the two young women who vanished within the last six months. The first girl disappeared while traveling and visiting her grandmother’s house and another was on her way to a job interview at the local library, but never made it. The strange occurrences had everyone panicking and adhering to the extreme measures to avoid their daughters from being the next to abruptly disappear.

“Y/N, take the car and drop your sister off at her friend’s house.” your mother urges. Your younger sister was around the same age as the young girls who had disappeared, so it became understandable why her safety was paramount. Of course you weren’t excluded from concern, however, being that you were older and already on your way to finishing up your college education, it’s presumed that you were in the clear. At least that’s what the authorities stated in their public announcements.

“Take her, make sure you watch her enter the house before you drive off. Then come right back here, understand?” your mother’s strict orders were firm and left no room for argument. “Fine.” you answered quietly. Running errands and dropping off your younger sibling always came with the same warnings and specific instructions–nothing out of the ordinary.

The drive wasn’t terribly far–around twenty minutes. Sometimes you wonder why your family decided to reside in the suburbs–so far from the city. Wouldn’t it have been better had they considered moving closer? Considering that both your parents place of employment and your younger sister’s school, it would be so much more convenient had they found a neighborhood much closer.

“I feel so sorry for that girl–you know?”

Her voice interrupts your thoughts as you delicately come to a stop at the red light. “Are you talking about the one that just disappeared?”

“Yeah. She was so pretty too, just like the first one.” her voice was soft and tender, and just like those girls, your precious younger sibling couldn’t be excluded from the list of potential victims. No wonder your parents were always so concerned over her staying late for after school activities. With her traditional beauty and delicate frame, she was every kidnapper's dream.

Pulling up the driveway, you followed your mother’s instructions as ordered. Checking your phone, you send a text out to notify your parents that you both made it at the sleepover, when your sister's phone screen abruptly is placed in front of you, followed by a small giggle.

“What is that?” you sharply questioned, a slight annoyance accompanies your tone. “Isn’t it cute? I took it earlier today.”

Being the prankster that she was, it was no surprise that you became a pawn in your sister’s line of mischievous acts. “So uncool. Erase that.”

“Oh come on! I took it because you looked so pretty. You know, everyone always says the same thing–even in high school. Remember all those times you napped during the lunch hour? Everyone always said that you looked so pretty whenever you slept. Guess that’s why they always called you that name, huh?”

You let out a tiring sigh. “Yeah, I guess so.” it was true–the nickname stuck with you even all through college when your friends carried the name over. They would always ask you in jest why you slept so often, and you wish you had an answer for them, but you never could come up with one. You don't know why–all your life you just felt so tired. Your pondering thoughts are interrupted once more when you hear your sister thanking you for the ride.

“Alright, Sleeping Beauty! Thanks for dropping me off! Love you!”

………

The twenty minute drive back seemed much longer than before. Perhaps you’re just tired—all the assignments and study sessions were probably getting to you. You pull up and notice the other car gone. Did your parents go out?

You walk in and took the precautionary measures to lock the door behind. A small note is left propped on the dinner table, addressed to you:

‘Y/N, dinner is in the oven. Your dad and I went out to see some old friends—we will be back later. Love, mom.’

Well, there are worse things than to have an entire house all to yourself. The peaceful and quiet atmosphere was a pleasant contrast from the cyclic ruckus you grew to block out. For once, it was nice to not walk around with headphones and enjoy the stale sound of silence. Yet, it would appear you spoke too soon—your phone rings. Noticing the number, you answer half heartedly “hey girl.”

Your best friend answers with a myriad of giggles and knavery tone. “Guess what?”

“What?”

“We have a few transfer students that came in and all of them are going to be at Jess’s party tonight. You coming?”

You sigh. “No, don’t think I will. I’m tired.”

“You’re always tired!” Your best friend berates in disappointment. “Come on! At least look at the photo I just sent! They’re gorgeous!”

You spare a half glance at the photo and saw a group of young men posing for a photo. “I can’t—I still have to finish some things and I really am so tired.”

“Fine! You’re no fun but I still love you.” She giggles as she bids you goodbye. The last bit of her words replayed in echoes as you eeee taken back to a time in high school where she said the very same thing before…

‘…You’re no fun, but I still love you.’

You’re quite certain your friend recalls the events that occurred afterwards, when she left you at the theater after you denied her invitation to skip out on class and to attend a social gathering. You had rejected her offer and remained in the projection room to nap for an hour before your next class began. That was when you had the strangest dream. Remnants of that moment came back like pieces of a puzzle when you recalled that time —the dream was vivid and felt so real. A figure walking up and presenting a beautiful red rose—doing so delicately as to not wake you. It was as if you err watching a grainy film as you witnessed the happenings—from him laying the flower in your hand, stroking your hair, and kissing your forehead. The strangest bit was when you awoke for your next class, a rose was within your grasp. Yet, the projection room remained locked from the inside, leaving no margin for entry to anyone from the outside. Yet, still…no matter how many times you brushed it off, each moment you come back to that memory it just made you feel like something…something was—

*ring ring*

Your phone rings and you view the screen. You didn’t recognize the number so you ignored the call. The caller didn’t leave a voice message either, probably a scam call. You’ve been getting a lot of them lately.

Other than the two phone calls, your night was rather peaceful. You ate a light dinner and figured it would be best to start your reading materials before it gets too late. Washing the dishes, you scrubbed your plate in soapy water. The surface read covered by foamy bubbles, leaving the bottom elusive. A sharp prick stings the tip of your index finger, causing you to quickly retract your hand from the depths of the warm water. “What the hell?!”

You run the faucet on and rinse the wound under the fluid motion of the lukewarm stream and notice a single red dot. You drained the sink and didn’t notice any broken glass or dishes—what did you poke your finger on?

As the last remnants of soap and bubble spiral down the drain, your eyes caught on to something foreign from the steel background. Was that a…

“…a thorn?”

Your mind was boggled by the existence of a single rose thorn inside the sink. Strange. You held the thorn in hand and studied it for a second before your phone rang once more. It was your mother.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, I’m just checking in. Did you eat?”

“Yeah.”

You remain somewhat calm as you ponder about the thorn while hearing your mother rant about locking all the doors and windows. “Yeah, got it. Hey mom—“

You quickly catch her before she starts to say her goodbye. “Did you get roses or something?”

“Oh yes—for our friends. I went to the store and grabbed a small bouquet, why?”

You rolled your eyes out of relief and suddenly found the entire situation comical. “Nothing. I just saw a rose thorn in the sink.”

“Oh yes, I had rinsed them in the sink and put them in a vase. Be Careful when washing dishes.”

“Yeeeeah.” Your tone was sarcastic but she didn’t seem to catch on. Instead, she bid you farewell and you both hang up.

Placing the phone down, you felt a wave of fatigue hit you abruptly. Normally you felt tired and lethargic, but never have you felt extremely exhausted so suddenly. Your eyesight became dizzy—your body starts to feel weak. “What the hell…is…”

You couldn’t understand where this sudden sensation of fatigue came from. It’s as overwhelming and nearly took over your entire body—to the point where you found it hard to stand. It was as if you were punched by the sandman. You stumble your way up the stairs—leaning against the bannister on your way up.

Tired…so tired…too tired.

Marching up, you finally reached your bedroom and plopped yourself atop your bed. The mixture of cool and warm temperatures overwhelm you as the texture of the linen absorbs your body heat—the cotton fabric comforting you. Drifting off, you only lasted seconds upon laying down when everything suddenly goes to black.

So sleepy��

Taglist: @strxwbloody • @nshmrarki • @aquariushiiiii • @addictedtohobi • @nuriicata • @lilyuwon • @aanniikkaa •

#jay imagines #enha jay #jay hard thoughts #jay hard hours #jay enhypen #enhypen jay #jay x reader #yandere enhypen #yandere enha #Jay yandere #yahdere enhypen imagines #enhypen imagines #enhypen smut

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ghostvibesonly · 7 months ago

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JAY GOT HIS MOM TO VOICE ODYSSEUS’S MOM I’M SOBBING

god listening to the underworld hurts so much more after learning that “fun” fact (genuinely it’s so sweet oh my god but i’m using humor to cope)

“i took too long. I ventured too far while you were waiting”

“I’ll always love you”

#i guess beautiful voices run in the family #yes i also audibly gasped when polites showed up #epic #epic the musical #epic underworld saga #epic odysseus #epic odyssey #epic spoilers #epic the musical spoilers #it is an actual crime this saga is only three songs #i’m already on my fourth listen (the first two were the watch party)#correction: now on my fifth i finished the fourth listen while making this post #don’t even get me started on no longer you or the powerful orchestrals at the end with tiresias’s haunting vocals #or jay’s acting oh my god the anger and hurt and betrayal throughout the entire saga #tHE GROWLS I LIVE FOR WHEN ACTORS GROWL IN THEIR SINGING ITS SO GOOD #but also the quieter peaceful moments of love when he sees polites and his mom again #congrats on completing act one jorge!!#i am in your walls!!

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pucksandpower · 6 months ago

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Disturbing the Peace

Happy Nation: A Series of Standalone Fics

Max Verstappen x Vettel!Reader

Summary: an environmental activist disturbs the carefully constructed peace of Max’s life and turns his whole world on its head (or in which environmentalism and being a menace both run in the Vettel family)

Max strides across the tarmac towards his sleek private jet, ready to head up to the Red Bull Racing factory in Milton Keynes after a weekend of relaxation back home in Monaco. But he stops short as his eyes land on a cluster of protesters glued to the ground around his jet’s landing gear.

A gruff security guard approaches Max. “Sorry sir, we’ve got a bit of a situation here with these Greenpeace loons. They snuck past the perimeter and glued themselves down before we could stop them.”

Max scowls as he reads the words Fossil Fuels = Destruction scrawled across one of the protester’s shirts. He storms over, fists clenched at his sides.

“What the hell do you people think you’re doing?” he fumes, glaring at the seated activists. “You realize you’re costing me tens of thousands just by delaying my flight?”

“That’s kind of the point, bro,” one long-haired guy shoots back with a snide grin. “You’re one of the worst celebrity polluters on the planet.”

But Max’s gaze is drawn irresistibly to you — a beautiful young woman with fierce eyes and hair whipping around your face in the coastal wind. There’s an intensity and passion burning behind your stare that Max finds himself unexpectedly captivated by.

You rise gracefully to your feet, the only one not glued down, and take a step towards the fuming Formula 1 star. “Max Verstappen. Out of all celebrities last year, you were the 20th highest personal polluter. Even higher than Taylor Swift.”

There’s an unmistakable blend of reproach and attraction in your tone that throws Max off balance. He scoffs, trying to regain his bravado.

“What, are you stalking me or something? And I’m supposed to care what some random activist chick thinks?”

You level him with a pointed look. “Not some random chick. Y/N Vettel. Sebastian’s sister. And yes, you should care, because this is your planet too.”

Max blinks in surprise at the familiar surname, now recognizing the resemblance to his former competitor.

Oh fuck, not this girl.

He can’t resist giving you another once-over, taking in your lithe frame, the jut of your chin as you stare him down defiantly.

An amused smirk tugs at his lips despite himself. “Vettel, huh? I should’ve known. You two do have a thing for causing drama wherever you go.”

The dig lands but you don’t rise to the bait, shaking your head minutely. “This has nothing to do with drama, Max. It’s about doing what’s right for the environment before it’s too late to save it.”

“Oh, spare me the self-righteous preaching,” Max scoffs, reflexively going on the defensive even as a small part of him admires the conviction in your voice. “Like your jet-setting around to protest events is really doing the planet any favors.”

You raise an incredulous eyebrow. “Jet-setting? I take public transit everywhere. Planes are the exception for international events, and I always buy carbon offsets.”

Max feels a flicker of grudging respect at that before quickly stamping it down. He folds his arms across his chest, fixing you with a challenging stare. “Yeah? Well what about your clothes? I’m guessing that shirt was made from petroleum-based synthetic fabrics.”

A look of surprise crosses your face before you recover with a small shake of your head. “It’s actually bamboo. Petroleum-free and sustainably sourced.”

“Your shoes then,” Max presses, gaze dropping to the canvas flats on your feet.

You lift one demonstratively. “Recycled rubber.”

His eyes narrow as he struggles to find another example to poke holes in your lifestyle. You watch him search with ill-disguised amusement, finally taking pity.

“Listen Max, I’m not saying I’m perfect. Nobody is. The point is to keep trying to do better where we can.” Your eyes hold sincerity and — though Max is loath to admit it — wisdom beyond your years. “But you’re in a position of power. With all your money and influence, just think what you could do for sustainability initiatives. How many trees you could plant or clean energy projects you could fund with just a fraction of what you spend on private flights and gas-guzzling supercars every year.”

Max shifts, discomfited by the practicality of your words. It’s harder to be glib and dismissive when you’re not ranting incoherently about the planet dying, but making reasoned arguments. Especially with that intense, scrutinizing gaze fixed so squarely on him.

He clears his throat, resorting to sarcasm as a defense mechanism. “Yeah, that’s cute and all. But then who would keep all those gas station attendants employed? I’m doing them a public service, really.”

The ghost of a smirk curves your lips in a way that makes Max’s chest tighten unexpectedly. “How very philanthropic of you.”

He has to look away from the spark of challenge and — yes, flirtation — in your expression. Max isn’t sure when this stopped being a confrontation and turned into some sort of tense back-and-forth bristling with inexplicable chemistry, but it’s rapidly becoming unnerving.

Seeming to sense you’ve flustered him, you lean in conspiratorially. “You know Max, for someone who acts like such an edgy bad boy, you’re not so tough. I think deep down you know I’m right.”

Max’s jaw ticks stubbornly even as his cheeks burn at your proximity, at the sweet floral scent of your shampoo drifting across the scant distance between you. “You don’t know a damn thing about me.”

In a daring move, you reach out and lay a hand on his arm. His breath hitches just slightly at the contact as you hold his gaze intently. “Then help me understand. Join me for dinner sometime and we can talk more about this over something other than just shouting at each other.”

The gentle touch, combined with the sincerity shining warmly through those big widened eyes, takes Max completely off guard. He opens his mouth, then closes it, abruptly unsure how to respond to such an olive branch extended from his vehement critic just moments ago.

Before he can formulate a reply, the wail of sirens pierces the air. A police cruiser pulls up as four officers jump out, advancing menacingly towards your compatriots still glued to the pavement.

“Alright, that’s enough here,” the barrel-chested sergeant barks gruffly. “You’re all under arrest for criminal trespassing and failure to obey airport security.”

You hurriedly step between the officers and your fellow protesters, palms raised placatingly. “Please officers, don’t arrest them! I was the one who orchestrated this, I’ll go quietly. Just let them go.”

Max’s heart does a strange little flutter at the selfless gesture, at the protective way you shield your group from the aggression of the snarling police officers.

Before he can think better of it, he’s striding forward and planting himself at your side, a steadying hand on your arm. “Actually officers, I’m afraid I can’t let you detain this woman.”

You blink up at him in surprise. The lead sergeant looks far from impressed, folding his beefy arms across his chest.

“And just who the hell are you to make that call?”

Max lifts his chin defiantly. “Max Verstappen. I’m sure your supervisors would love to hear how the biggest name in racing got falsely arrested on the tarmac because one of their officers couldn’t exercise some restraint.”

The sergeant’s eyes widen almost comically and he takes an unconscious step back, disarmed by Max’s threat to leverage his fame and money. “Oh. Er … Mr. Verstappen, sir. I’m sure, um, we can sort this out ...”

Max cuts him off with an imperious wave, turning his attention fully to you. Your expression is a mixture of shock, curiosity, and — though Max certainly doesn’t dare name it — just maybe a tiny flicker of attraction in return.

“You asked me to try and understand your perspective. Fine, I’ll take you up on that dinner.” He looks you squarely in the eye, expression unreadable. “But you have to promise to hear me out too. No judgements, no protests. Just two people trying to figure out how to make the world better in their own ways.”

You stare searchingly at him for a prolonged moment. Then a slow, wondering smile spreads across your face, crinkling the corners of your eyes in the most disarmingly beautiful way. You give a small nod.

“Deal. I’ll keep an open mind if you do.”

Max finds himself returning the smile before he can stop himself. “Deal.”

He doesn’t know why this odd, passionate woman has gotten under his skin so quickly. Or why he suddenly cares what some environmental activist thinks of his choices. But as you take his proffered hand and he helps you step carefully away from the cluster of protestors, Max feels an unfamiliar stirring of hope. Maybe there’s more to this situation — and to you — than meets the eye.

The sergeant looks between you two skeptically, but seems to think better of pressing the issue further with Max’s steely gaze trained on him. With a resigned sigh, he waves his officers back.

“Alright, we’re going to let this one go. But I better not catch you trespassing and causing problems again, you hear?” He jabs a meaty finger at you in warning.

You just smile serenely, still not releasing Max’s hand. “No worries, officer. I have a dinner to get ready for.”

As the police pull away, you turn that brilliant grin on Max again. He finds himself returning it almost against his will, captivated by the fire that dances behind your eyes. For the first time, he wonders if going toe-to-toe with an idealistic environmental warrior might actually be worth momentarily putting his own deeply-held beliefs aside.

Stepping in close, you surprise him by leaning up on your tiptoes to whisper conspiratorially in his ear. “Thanks for playing along back there. I owe you one, Max Verstappen.”

The warm breath tickling his neck sends an unexpected shiver down his spine. You pull back with a mischievous wink before turning and rejoining your fellow activists, hips swaying in a tantalizing way that has Max’s gaze lingering perhaps a moment too long.

As he watches you go, Max can’t shake the strangest sense that he’s suddenly entered uncharted territory. And that this is only the beginning of you continually barging into his life and turning everything deliciously upside down.

***

Max lets out a grunt as he heaves the heavy barbell up over his head, sweat beading on his brow from the intense weight training session. After securing the bar back on its rack, he straightens and grabs a towel to wipe his face.

His phone starts ringing from across the room, an unknown number flashing on the screen. Max debates letting it go to voicemail but finally relents with a resigned sigh, scooping up the device.

“Yeah, hello?”

There’s a brief silence before an automated voice responds. “This is a call from a corrections facility. To accept charges and connect this call, press 1.”

Max frowns, caught off guard. He presses 1 warily, curiosity getting the better of him. The line clicks and then a new, very familiar voice comes through.

“Max! Oh thank god you picked up.” It’s you, sounding mildly frazzled but still unmistakably your unique blend of passion and composure.

A surprised laugh escapes Max’s lips before he can stop it. “You? Calling me from jail? This I’ve got to hear.”

“Don’t sound so delighted,” you chide, though he can hear the smile in your voice. “Yes, I’m in a bit of a situation here. You remember the big event we had been planning to protest that oil baron’s ridiculous superyacht docking in Monaco?”

Max raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it. “The one where you said, and I quote, ‘No Max, you can’t come. Your pouty little rich boy face is just going to distract everyone from the real injustice we’re protesting here.’“

“... Yes, that one.” You don’t miss a beat. “Well, we may have taken things a step too far. The police showed up and arrested all of us for trespassing and disturbing the peace.”

“You don’t say?” Max leans back against the weight bench, a teasing lilt to his voice. “So let me get this straight — you got yourself chucked in the slammer for causing your signature environmentalist dramatics, and now you’re calling me to help get you out?”

There’s a slight pause before you respond, tone turning softer. “I didn’t want to call Seb. You know how he gets — he’ll just give me that disappointed head shake and lecture about being more responsible. Acting like I’m still a reckless teenager instead of a grown woman fighting for a noble cause.”

Max feels a small pang at the uncharacteristic wistfulness in your voice. For all your sparring back and forth, he knows how much your activist work means to you. And how tirelessly you dedicate yourself to it, often at the expense of other aspects of life.

Chewing his lip, he considers his next words carefully. “I may give you endless shit about being a tree-hugging rebel without a cause, but you know I actually respect what you’re doing, right? Even if your methods are … shall we say, dramatic.”

You let out a small surprised huff of laughter at that. “Did Max Verstappen just pay me something resembling a genuine compliment? Aww, you really do care.”

Max rolls his eyes at the teasing, though his lips quirk in a reluctant smile. Something about your back-and-forth banter has a way of putting him at ease in a way he doesn’t quite understand.

“Don’t let it go to your head. I’m still holding out hope this is just a pesky phase before you eventually come to your senses and realize the error of your ways.”

“Fat chance, hot shot.” The warm amusement in your tone is impossible to miss. “But anyway, since you’re in such a generous mood — think you can do me a favor and come bail me out?”

Max hesitates, scratching the back of his neck. “I don’t know, bringing you home with me seems like a surefire way to get your activist cooties all over my ridiculously expensive non-vegan furniture.”

“Max ...” You let out an exaggerated whine that has him fighting back another grin. “Come on, I’m begging you here! I’ll be a model prisoner, I swear.”

Heaving a long-suffering sigh, Max pushes off from the bench and starts grabbing his shoes and keys. “Fine, fine. Twist my arm, why don’t you? I’ll be there in twenty minutes to ply your jailers with my generous pile of my money and spring you from the clink.”

You let out a squeal of delight that has his heart doing an odd little flip despite himself. “You’re the best, Max! Seriously, I owe you huge after this.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just don’t expect me to make a habit of it. This is a one-time kind of deal.”

The two of you say your brief goodbyes and Max hangs up, head shaking in bemusement. He’s not sure when his friendship with the passionate eco-warrior became so effortlessly comfortable, bantering back and forth like a long-married couple.

But he also can’t deny the way his pulse kicks up just slightly at the thought of seeing you again — windswept hair, fiery eyes, and that bright smile that still catches him off guard every time it’s directed his way.

As Max jogs out to the garage to grab his Ferrari for the short drive to the station, he vehemently tells himself it’s merely because he’s intrigued by the novelty of your clashing personalities. That your relentless conviction is a fascinating change of pace from the empty glamor that usually surrounds him.

But a tiny voice in the back of his mind whispers that he’s lying to himself. That there’s something magnetically addictive about you and your tireless ability to see the world through a different lens than his own. Something that challenges him, stimulates him, reels him in over and over again no matter how much he pretends to resist.

He quickly banishes the thought, jaw setting in stubborn determination. Max Verstappen isn’t the type to get pulled into a girl’s orbit, no matter how intriguing she might seem on the surface. He’ll bail your reckless ass out of jail, have another enjoyable round of opposition-attracts banter, and then carry on with his usual life of racing and living by his own well-established rules.

Right?

The sleek crimson SF90 Stradale tears through the winding Monaco streets, wind whipping through Max’s hair as he pushes the pedal towards the floor. The adrenaline pumping through his veins feels vaguely familiar to the thrill of a heated race — though he refuses to dwell too deeply on why bailing out an eco-terrorist gives him that same edge-of-the-seat excitement.

He pulls up to the modest local jail in record time, the guard at the entrance giving him a skeptical once-over before waving him through. No doubt recognizing the signature Ferrari and flashy persona of the championship-winning driver.

Max swaggers up to the front desk where a bored-looking officer sits shuffling through paperwork. The young man startles at his approach, shooting to attention with widened eyes.

“Oh! Mr. Verstappen, sir! How can I help you today?”

Puffing out his chest just slightly, Max gives the officer his most imposing stare. “Yeah, I’m here to post bail for one of your … residents. Y/N Vettel.”

The cop’s brow furrows as he scans the intake files. “Ah yes, here she is. Environmental activist, part of that big protest at the marina. Disturbing the peace, trespassing, and a few of them even got hit with property damage charges from graffiti.”

Max scowls, that damned protective streak rearing its ugly head again before he can stop it. “I’m only posting bail for Y/N Vettel. The hell did she get charged with?”

“Just peaceful trespassing and disturbing the peace.” The cop frowns contemplatively. “Well, and resisting arrest when she tried to stop us cuffing one of her friends. But that’s about it.”

Rubbing his temples with a pained sigh, Max can’t resist a rueful grin. “Yeah, that tracks. Listen, what’s it gonna cost me to grab her so I can get out of here?”

“For those charges? €1500 bond should cover it.”

Max scoffs at the paltry sum, already pulling out his monogrammed money clip and peeling off a stack of euros. “Whatever, here’s double. Keep the change for your trouble.”

The cop’s eyes widen almost comically, but he knows better than to question Max freaking Verstappen. Hurriedly taking the bills, he produces some paperwork for Max to sign and process the transaction.

“Alright Mr. Verstappen, just need your signature here and here. And if you’ll allow me to get your fingerprints as well for the release forms ...”

Max begrudgingly complies, wanting to get this circus over with as quickly as possible. He taps his foot impatiently as the officer takes his prints and finalizes everything in the computer system.

“Okay, all set. I’ll have one of the guards bring Miss Vettel around to the release lobby. Might be a few minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, just hurry it up,” Max mutters distractedly.

He crosses his arms and leans back against the wall, letting his eyes drift shut for a brief moment as he tries to compose himself. Your voice rings in his ears, that unmistakable mixture of sheepishness and determination that seems to sum up your entire persona.

Goddamn it, why did you have to call him? Why couldn’t you have just phoned up your doting big brother like a normal person instead of dragging Max into this? Part of him wants to be annoyed at how easily you’re able to play him, batting those big eyes and pleading for his help like you knew he would give in.

But the thought of leaving you to stew in a dingy jail cell somehow makes his stomach twist uncomfortably. Almost like he’d be letting you down in some weird, convoluted way. Ridiculous as the notion is, Max can’t deny this increasing pull you seem to have over him.

His eyes fly open as the door to the cellblocks finally opens, heavy footsteps approaching. Max takes an automatic step forward, pulse kicking up in anticipation despite himself.

And then you’re there. Hair tousled, t-shirt and jeans covered in smears of dirt and grass stains from the protest scuffle. But those defiant eyes are still ablaze, jaw set stubbornly as the guard leads you out in handcuffs.

“Max! You’re actually here!” Your face splits into a bright, surprised grin at the sight of him.

He tries and fails to suppress his own answering smile, raking an admittedly appreciative gaze over you from head to toe. “What, you didn’t think I’d show up for my favorite little jailbird?”

Shrugging nonchalantly, you flash him a sly look from under your lashes. “I don’t know, I had my doubts Mr. Bigshot Racer would sully his palms rescuing little old me.”

“Well, you know what they say.” Max steps in close, dropping his voice to a faux-seductive murmur as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen infinitesimally but you hold his gaze, seemingly transfixed. “I just can’t seem to quit you.”

You bite your lip in a badly suppressed grin at his corny line. “Did you seriously just incorrectly quote Brokeback Mountain at me right now?”

“Maybe.” He rocks back on his heels with a shameless wink. “Doesn’t make it any less true, does it?”

A delicate blush blooms across your cheeks in a way that has Max’s heart stuttering unexpectedly. The guard clears his throat loudly, shattering the moment between you.

“Erm, right. If you’ll just sign here for Miss Vettel’s release ...” He offers a clipboard to Max.

Tearing his eyes away from you with concentrated effort, Max scrawls his signature across the form. You watch him intently, an unreadable look flickering across your features for just a moment before the guard undoes your cuffs with a loud click.

You immediately bring your newly freed hands together, rubbing at the chafed skin of your wrists gingerly. Max’s jaw tightens at the sight.

“You good?” His tone is gruff with concern despite himself.

Glancing up, you give him a reassuring smile and nod. “All good, just a little tender. It’ll be fine, I promise.”

Something about your easy dismissal of the discomfort rankles Max in a way he can’t fully explain. Like he wants to grab your hands, bring them to his lips to inspect the damage more closely. The sudden urge catches him off guard and he quickly tamps it down, fists clenching at his sides.

The guard seems oblivious to the undercurrent between you, simply giving a curt nod and motioning towards the exit. “Right then, off you go. And try to stay out of trouble from now on, Miss Vettel.”

You shoot the cop your signature wry grin. “No promises, officer.”

Rolling his eyes skyward, Max grabs your elbow lightly and ushers you towards the doors before you can cause any more scenes. You fall into step beside him easily, shoulders brushing in a way that has his skin tingling with awareness.

As the two of you step out into the late afternoon sunlight, you turn to him with those warm eyes that never fail to set his heart racing just a little faster.

“I really do owe you one, Max. Thank you for coming to my rescue, even after everything“

He gives an exaggerated huff, fighting a smile. “Well, it’s a tough job but someone’s gotta bail out all the reckless idiots who can’t stay out of handcuffs for five minutes.”

You laugh brightly, punching his arm in playful admonishment. A spark of electricity seems to jolt between you at the contact and Max freezes almost imperceptibly, mesmerized by the radiant smile you’re beaming up at him.

In that moment, with the sunlight catching in your hair and reflecting those fierce, captivating eyes, Max is struck by how breathtakingly beautiful you are. Not just physically, though that’s certainly undeniable. But the whole intoxicating aura of your idealism, your passion, your relentless fighting spirit that leaves him in a constant state of incredulous attraction no matter how much he rails against it.

You cock your head slightly, drawing him out of his reverie. “Max? You still in there?”

“Huh?” He blinks dazedly before recovering with a shake of his head, shoving his hands into his pockets in what he desperately hopes is a casual gesture. “Yeah, no, I’m good. Just thinking.”

Your brow furrows in concern as you study his face intently. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course.” Max clears his throat, avoiding your piercing gaze. He nods jerkily towards the car glinting fetchingly in the sun. “Come on, let’s get out of here before they decide to re-arrest your ass for loitering.”

As the two of you make your way across the parking lot, Max resolutely ignores the persistent voice whispering that he’s in deeper than he’s willing to admit this time. That you might just be addictive enough to become something he can’t simply shake off when he’s had his fill.

But rather than finding the notion disconcerting like it should be, he finds himself fighting the strangest flicker of excitement at the prospect instead.

***

The Monaco paddock is a dizzying whirlwind of activity as teams and personnel rush about in their usual pre-race frenzy. Max weaves through the chaos towards his driver room, helmet tucked under his arm.

He pauses as a familiar voice reaches his ears — that unmistakable passionate cadence that always has a way of stopping him in his tracks these days. Max turns to see you holding court in the middle of a cluster of wide-eyed engineers and PR reps, gesticulating emphatically.

“... and that’s just the start! We also need to look into renewable energy sources to power the entire paddock operations. Sustainable cooking practices in the hospitality suites. Comprehensive recycling and composting initiatives. Not to mention overhauling the travel logistics for a lower carbon footprint when we’re shipping this whole circus around the globe every other week.”

One of the hapless reps looks shellshocked, struggling to keep up as he scribbles notes furiously. “I … yes, of course, Miss Vettel. We’ll look into all of that right away. Anything else?”

You fix the poor man with one of your signature intense stares, full lower lip catching between your teeth as you consider. Max feels his heart skip at the seemingly insignificant gesture, cursing under his breath.

“Well, we haven’t even touched on sustainable sourcing for uniforms and merchandising yet. Or the complete overhaul needed for fuel compositions and racing technology to align with a realistic net-zero roadmap.” Your eyes spark with renewed fervor. “But we can circle back on those aspects later. For now I want you to-”

Sensing an opening, the bewildered rep seizes his chance to politely extricate himself. “You know what, Miss Vettel? Why don’t I go gather all my notes on your suggestions so far and we can regroup for a more structured meeting on next steps? I’ll, uh, be in touch!”

He scampers off before you can protest, leaving the rest of the staffers gaping at you with a combination of terror and admiration. You just shake your head bemusedly, rolling your eyes skyward as you catch sight of Max watching from across the way.

“What?” You shrug innocently at his raised eyebrow, the very picture of angelic nonchalance. “Someone’s got to light a fire under these people if we want to actually get some sustainability practices in place.”

Max bites back a grin, sauntering over with exaggerated slowness. “Is that what you call demolishing that poor rep’s entire understanding of the world? Just lighting a fire?”

“Hey, we’re not being paid to settle for complacency and half-measures,” you shoot back without a shred of remorse. “I got hired to shake this whole damn organization to its core until it goes fully carbon neutral. And that’s exactly what I intend to do.”

Your unapologetic defiance never fails to send a peculiar thrill zinging through Max’s veins. He rakes an admittedly assessing gaze over your crisp pantsuit and loosely swept updo — quite a change from the scruffy activist’s getup he’s so used to seeing you in.

“You clean up nice, I’ll give you that,” he muses teasingly. “Who knew you could look so respectable in professional garb?”

Rather than rise to the bait, you simply flash him a wink and smoothing your hands over the fitted blazer, drawing his gaze helplessly to the enticing curves beneath the tailored lines. “What can I say? I’m a woman of many talents.”

Heat prickles at the base of Max’s neck at the unexpected flirtiness, his tongue suddenly thick and useless in his mouth. He quickly masks the moment of flustered silence with a dismissive scoff.

“Great, so in addition to harassing race staff you’re assaulting my senses too? Good to know where your priorities lie, Vettel.”

You laugh easily, canting a hip as you fix him with those dancing eyes that never fail to set his heart racing. “If you can’t handle a little playful banter, Verstappen, you’d better get used to keeping your distance now that we’re colleagues for the foreseeable future.”

The words slam into Max with surprising force, hitting a little too close to the bone. Unconsciously, his gaze darts over you in a way that feels far too intimate for mere colleagues. Lingering on the delicate curve of your neck as you tip your head back, the lush pout of your lips, the swaying tendrils of hair escaping your updo which he inexplicably longs to brush back into place.

All at once the reality of your new role truly sinks in — that he’ll be seeing you at every single race from now until god knows when. The thought fills Max with a dizzying blend of elation and trepidation.

On one hand, the prospect of having you perpetually woven through his life in this shiny new professional capacity is enough to make his pulse kick up in giddy anticipation.

But on the other, it terrifies him to his core. You have an uncanny ability to constantly keep him off-balance, as endlessly fascinating as you are maddening. This casual flirtation between you has taken on undercurrents he’s no longer certain he wants to shy away from acknowledging. At least, not when the thought of shutting it down fills Max with a hollow ache he can’t put words to.

He’s pulled from his spiraling reflections as an impeccably dressed older man in a crisp suit materializes at your side, placing a wizened hand on your shoulder.

“Ah, there you are, Miss Vettel! I was just coming to fetch you for our preliminary sustainability council meeting with the rest of the advisory board.” The man’s eyes twinkle with unmistakable approval as he regards you. “Although from the looks of it you’ve already started getting the lay of the land around here and, ah, asserting your new directives shall we say?”

You shoot him a conspiratorial grin, leaning in as if sharing a secret. “Let’s just say I’ve had a productive first day on the job so far, Mr. Haywood. They won’t know what hit ‘em.”

Max recognizes the man as Stephen Haywood, one of the senior F1 board members and the person primarily responsible for bringing you on in this ground-breaking new eco initiative. He chuckles indulgently at your quip.

“That’s exactly what we’re counting on from you, my dear. Ruffling some feathers and dragging this whole operation into the future, come hell or high water. I have the utmost confidence you’re going to revolutionize Formula 1 in ways we can’t even conceive yet.”

You beam at the praise, visibly swelling with determination. Haywood gives your shoulder another squeeze before gesturing down the paddock. “Shall we? We’ve got a long agenda ahead to tackle your big plans.”

“Absolutely,” you say eagerly, turning to follow him. But not before pausing to shoot Max one last heated look from over your shoulder, dropping your voice to a sultry murmur. “Don’t go too far, Verstappen. I’ve still got plenty more to say to you later.”

And with a tantalizing wink, you sashay away after Haywood in that maddeningly hypnotic way that you know reduces Max to an incoherent mess every time. All he can do is gape after your retreating figure, the sway of those hips in that perfectly tailored skirt rendering him utterly useless.

As you disappear around the corner, Max feels the dam inside him finally burst in a torrential flood of overwhelming emotion. Everything suddenly clicks into startling clarity in one shuddering epiphany that leaves him unmoored:

He’s in love with you.

Desperately, all-consumingly, recklessly in love in a way he never saw coming and is wholly unprepared to process. All those months pretending you were just an amusing diversion, a source of intrigue and refreshing friction in his otherwise orderly life. All the times he battled against the obvious chemistry simmering between you, tried to downplay it as mere physical attraction between opposing forces.

But now it washes over Max in one shattering wave of truth — the way his world tilts off-axis whenever you’re around, the gravity of your presence drawing him in against his will. How thoroughly and irrevocably you’ve embedded yourself under his skin without him ever truly realizing it was happening until now.

He grips the wall for support, legs feeling abruptly unsteady as his head spins. How is he supposed to reconcile this revelation? That his heart now lies so completely in the hands of this fierce, untamable woman utterly hellbent on dismantling and revolutionizing his entire life’s work in the name of environmentalism.

The delicious contradictions of having fallen for someone whose core values and purpose seem to exist in such direct opposition to his own are enough to make Max’s head throb dizzily. You are his antithesis in so many ways — that headstrong passion a perpetual thorn in his side, continually pushing and prodding him out of his self-imposed boundaries.

And yet … he couldn’t be more completely enthralled.

It’s that relentless challenging of his beliefs, that refusal to settle for complacency, that has drawn Max in and held him captivated against his will from the very beginning. In you he’s found a riveting counterpoint to the blinkered single-mindedness of his existence, a refreshing perspective that somehow makes him want to be a bigger, better version of himself.

Even now, just the phantom echo of your parting words has him straightening unconsciously, feeling almost chastened and bereft in the wake of your absence. Max has never been one to dwell on his emotions, preferring to analyze and compartmentalize until they’re boxed away into neat, manageable parcels.

But this all-encompassing feeling storming through him in your wake is anything but neat or manageable. It’s wild and catastrophic, crackling with the dangerous intensity of a lightning strike clawing its way across the horizon in slow motion.

Just the thought of looking into those blazing eyes and owning the truth of his feelings for you sends Max into a panic, chest squeezing with anxious breath. You have always seen through his feigned nonchalance, cut straight through to the bone with that penetrating stare. He has no idea how to even begin existing openly in the same space as you without his heart shining through brazenly for the entire world to witness.

His fist clenches against the cold metal of the garage wall as an irrational surge of bitterness lances through him. How dare you just sweep into his rigidly controlled life with all that blistering confidence and conviction, making him feel things he never wanted to feel? Upending his carefully maintained reality without a second thought, all in the name of your damned causes?

You weren’t supposed to get this far under his skin. He was just supposed to have a bit of fun, indulge in your company as a momentary diversion at most. And now Max is in so disastrously deep that he has no idea how to drag himself back out.

He doesn’t know how long he stands there warring with himself, torn between exhilarated possibility and vehement denial. What he does know is that his entire world has been turned upside down. And despite the terror rattling his bones, despite the desperate urge to somehow ignore the sheer enormity of this jolt to his system … he can’t muster the will to try and wrestle back control.

Not when the thrill of finally surrendering to you sends such intoxicating electricity crackling through every fiber of his being.

Max peels himself from the wall with renewed resolve, running a hand through his disheveled hair. He needs to steel himself, because avoiding you is clearly no longer an option. Not when your irresistible pull is only amplified now that you’ll be a near-permanent fixture in his life.

He has to face this head-on, confront the exhilarating chaos you’ve wrought in his carefully cultivated existence. Which means pushing down the churning jumble of emotions rattling around in his ribcage before they become too overwhelming.

“Get a grip, man,” Max mutters sternly to himself, knocking the heel of his palm against his temple as if to physically dislodge his internal storm. “It’s just Vettel. You’ve dealt with her shit-stirring antics a million times before. You can handle this new ... development.”

His words carry neither confidence nor conviction, but Max forges on anyway, straightening his shoulders as he plunges back into the fray of the paddock. If he can just maintain some semblance of outward equilibrium, he can get through this.

One foot in front of the other, he winds past the crowd towards his driver’s room as if in a trance. Any minute now, you’ll saunter back through in that mouthwateringly crisp ensemble, eyes bright with hard-won strategy and single minded intent.

And Max will just … what? Calmly confront you as if his entire understanding of your dynamic hasn’t undergone a seismic fucking shift in the last five minutes?

He barks out a mirthless laugh at the impossibility of such a scenario. Any pretense of indifference has surely been shattered between you now. All his meager attempts at deflecting through banter and heated bickering ring hollow to his own ears after this shattering realization.

No, for better or worse, Max has finally tumbled over that precipice he’d been teetering on for so long when it comes to you. Now more than ever before, he dreads and craves the prospect of your next meeting in equal, searing measure.

Because whether he’s ready or not … whether he thinks he can handle the fallout or not … you’ll be able to read every devastating truth written across his face this time.

When your paths inevitably cross again, Max knows there will be no more hiding from you the shift of feelings you’ve unleashed within him.

This time, he’ll be entirely and terrifyingly laid bare.

***

Three Years Later

The crisp mountain air fills Max’s lungs as he straightens up, wiping a trickle of sweat from his brow with a satisfied smile. The freshly tilled soil stretches before him in neat rows, ready and waiting to nurture the seeds you meticulously selected.

“Nice work, Mein Löwe,” you call approvingly from across the yard, one hand resting on the swell of your pregnant belly. “That plot is going to be perfect for all our veggies.”

Max’s chest warms at the undisguised pride in your voice as you survey his handiwork. Just a few years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of voluntarily getting his hands dirty like this. But ever since that fateful day at the airport … everything has changed.

“Yeah, well, be sure to put me to work weeding and watering too,” he shoots back with an easy grin. “Gotta earn my keep as the cabana boy around here.”

You roll your eyes in playful exasperation even as an affectionate smile tugs at your lips. “I’ll be sure to get you a tiny little outfit.”

The teasing remark might have once pricked Max’s fragile ego. But now he simply shakes his head with a low chuckle, marveling at how natural, how right it feels to be the subject of your gentle ribbing. In the years since that first charged encounter, your barbs have sanded down his prickly edges until only his core of wry tenderness remains.

You cross the yard toward him, sunlight glinting off the tousled tendrils of hair that frame your face. Up close, Max can make out the dark crescent smudges under your eyes from many sleepless nights spent mapping out plans for this property — from the aerogel insulation in the walls to the extensive geothermal heating system to the solar panels spanning the roof.

Most people would have long ago surrendered in exhaustion when presented with building the world’s most environmentally sustainable home from the ground up. But not you. You had steadfastly urged him onward, determined to make this place a paragon of renewable living for your growing family.

His growing family, Max mentally corrects himself with a jolt of surprise that still hasn’t faded, even after all this time.

As if reading his mind, you pause before him, gently taking his calloused hands in yours. “Think you can handle planting all those seedlings tomorrow without me? The back pains are really kicking my ass lately.”

Max’s lips quirk upwards at the feisty lilt to your voice. “Getting a little too old to be bending over in the dirt for hours, liefje?”

“Hey, watch it!” You protest with a laugh, playfully batting at his chest. “I’m literally growing an entire human here. Maybe have some sympathy for your poor wife?”

“Alright, alright,” Max chuckles, sliding his hands reverently over the swollen curve of your belly. A sense of awe washes over him, just as it does each time he’s reminded of the incredible miracle blooming inside you — a tiny life that is half him, half this fierce, passionate woman he once couldn’t stand.

He leans in to press his forehead tenderly to yours. “I’ve got it all covered tomorrow. Why don’t you take it easy for once?”

You let out a derisive snort at the suggestion. “Yeah, like that’ll happen. Maybe if you massage my back tonight, though ...”

“Deal,” Max murmurs without hesitation, tilting his head to steal a lingering kiss.

Your lips are soft and pliant against his, still electrifying even after all this time. Max marvels yet again at this strange, thrilling new world you’ve ushered him into — one of quiet moments and domesticity and fulfillment. A world that his former self, obsessed with roaring engines and adrenaline, could have never envisioned.

But even as your mouths move in that timeless, familiar dance, Max’s mind drifts back to that fateful first encounter outside his jet all those years ago. The sheer force of your convictions had rocked him to his core then, cracking open the crusty shell around his heart. And before he could blink, you had blossomed into so much more than an impassioned activist — a friend, a confidante, a lover … and now the mother of his unborn child.

At last, you pull away with a contented sigh, cradling Max’s face in your tender palms. “Have I told you lately how grateful I am for you?”

“Once or twice,” he teases gruffly, though his chest clenches with an all too familiar ardor. “But you know I never get tired of hearing it, schatje.”

You beam up at him with utter adoration shining in your eyes. A look that never fails to disarm Max straight to his core. How had it taken so many years of chasing empty accolades for him to finally find this all-encompassing serenity?

“I just ...” You pause, worrying your full lower lip between your teeth. A sure sign you’re struggling to untangle an emotion webbed with complexity. “I never imagined I could be this … content.”

Your gaze drifts wistfully across the sweeping valley before your mountainside property, the majestic peaks dusted with snow on the horizon. For a beat, Max envisions it all through your eyes — the staggering beauty of this utopia you’ve carved out for your budding family, its self-sustaining existence treading as lightly on the earth as possible.

“After so many years fighting and railing against the system, to find this pocket of peace ...” You shake your head slowly, almost deliriously. “It’s more than I could have dreamed.”

Inexplicably, Max feels his eyes prickling with a sudden thickness at your reverent murmur. A lump forms in his throat, welling with all the indescribable gratitude and tenderness that still threatens to overwhelm him at times like this.

“You know,” he rasps out at last, tracing his thumb reverently over the sharp line of your jaw. “After that day at the airport in Nice … I tried so hard to shake the way you made me feel.”

A wistful smile plays across your lips at the memory as your eyes meet his in silent invitation. You’re hanging on his every word now — a state Max still struggles to wrap his mind around at times.

“No matter what I did, or where I traveled, part of me couldn’t escape your voice in my head,” Max continues, pushing through the lump in his throat. “Demanding that I question my way of life, open my eyes to how careless I had been.”

You nod slowly in recognition, lacing your fingers through his. The remembered combativeness from that long ago confrontation has faded now, giving way only to understanding between the two people who recognize each other most profoundly.

“At first, I just tried blocking you out,” Max admits with a rueful chuckle. He dips his head until your foreheads are brushing again as his voice lowers to an intimate rasp. “But the more I pushed you away, the deeper you burrowed inside me. Until I finally stopped fighting it and just … listened.”

He feels your sharp inhale as his words skate warmth down your skin. Slowly, almost unconsciously, your fingers tighten around his in solidarity.

“And look at us now,” you murmur at last, awestruck and achingly tender all at once.

In your eyes, Max glimpses the past, present and future stretching out in dizzying symmetry — those first fierce sparks of passion blossoming into the steadfast love that shelters your growing family. He sees the painstaking nurturing required to transform a confrontation into a partnership over years of effort and understanding.

Most of all, he sees the promise of new dawns yet to come, with each one awakening to your cherished, reverent teachings about the earth’s splendor and fragility.

His heart clenches fit to burst as Max drinks in your beauty — flushed and glowing with new life, still beaming with that incandescent fire that had first seared into his soul. Only now, it burns only for him, a flame stoking devotion and passion and sanctuary.

Just as Max leans in to capture your mouth in a searing kiss, the shrill chime of the doorbell shatters the moment. You spring apart with a breathless laugh.

“Fuck, I forgot Seb was supposed to be coming over today!” You give Max’s chest one last pat before turning toward the house, waddling slightly with the added weight of your pregnant belly.

Max grins fondly, trailing after you at a more leisurely pace. He can’t resist one last admiring glance over his shoulder at the pristine vegetable garden stretching behind the cottage — an oasis of sustainable beauty, just like the life you’ve created here.

As you reach the front door, pulling it open eagerly, Sebastian’s familiar lopsided grin greets you both from the other side. Your brother’s eyes immediately zero in on your rounded midsection, his expression melting into one of pure adoration.

“Oh, Bärchen, you’re positively glowing!” He exclaims, sweeping you into a gentle hug. “How’s my little niece or nephew treating their mom?”

You let out a dramatic groan, leaning back to shoot Max an exaggerated look of suffering. “This kid’s already high maintenance, just like their father. I’ve got swollen ankles, back pains, you name it.”

“Hey now,” Max interjects with a chuckle, sidling up to join the familiar banter. He claps Sebastian’s shoulder affectionately. “If they end up being anything like you in the baby stage, we’re in for a whole new world of sleep deprivation.”

Sebastian returns the grin, unfazed. “Like you aren’t an even bigger handful than me.”

You snort indelicately, looping your arm through Max’s as you shuffle back to allow Sebastian inside. “Are you kidding? With my influence, this baby will be an expert environmentalist before they’re out of diapers.”

“You wish,” Max shoots back with a smirk, his eyes twinkling. He knows better than anyone the depth of your convictions — and appreciates them more than he can put words to.

As the three of you bicker playfully, Max’s chest fills with an overwhelming sense of contentment. Just a few years ago, he could have scarcely imagined this scenario — the love of his life heavy with his child, her doting brother at their side, their sprawling eco-paradise as the idyllic backdrop.

But now, as he guides you both into the spacious, sunlit living room, Max knows without a doubt that this is exactly where he belongs.

Here, sheltered in the passionate wake of your ceaseless quest to better the world. Here, in the eye of the storm you had first raged into his life, upending everything until his soul had no choice but to still and listen.

You shoot him a private smile, reading his thoughts as easily as breathing. In your bright eyes, Max sees the future stretching out blissfully — a path paved by your determined heart that he will gladly tread in partnership forever.

All because on one fateful day, you had dared to make him question everything. And in doing so, unveiled the peace and purpose he never knew he craved.

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petew21-blog · 3 months ago

Text

Revenge possession, part 2

"So what is this game called again?" I asked out loud with Devon's voice.

Devon in the back of our mind:"Dead by daylight. You play either as a survivor or the killer. Depending on the role you have to escape or kill all the survivors."

I chuckled a bit:"You don't see how that's ironic?"

Devon was silent. "I'm so sorry, man. Jesus, I didn't think this through. Haha. Well... you should be good in this game right?"

Me:"Not really. I kinda didn't even know I was being hunted. Your parents just picked me up and then tortured me in the woods. I didn't have much of a chance to even run."

Devon:"Oh... I'm so sorry for that, man. My parents are horrible people."

Me:"Yeah. And I know they killed much more people than just me. That's why it needs to stop"

Devon:"So are you sure that killing them would be the best revenge for all these years of their murder spree?"

Me:"What else can I do? It's not like I had much of a choice. Few days ago I didn't even have a body. Now I co-share yours. Yeah, stealing their sons body is good revenge too, but you're a good person. And I don't want to take over your life."

Devon:"Not what I was aiming for. I honestly love having you here with me. You're like a second voice/brother/best friend inside of me. Oh shit. I just figured. I keep calling you bro. What's your real name?"

Me:"Paul. Took you long to ask, man. Not cool"

Devon:"Sorry, haha. So... Paul. You're like 40 now, right?"

Me:"I would be if your parents didn't kill me. But I died when I was 21 like you are now. So my mind basically stayed 21 I suppose. Except for roaming the country I didn't have much fun through all these years. These past few days as you, just chilling here, playing video games, jerking off and talking to you is the most fun I had over these 20 years."

Devon took control over his body to let go of the controler and to flex his biceps. The sweat hitting his nose.

Me:"What are you doing? I thought we were gonna play?"

Devon:"Nah, just reminding you what body you're in"

Devon:"Look at me man. I have beautiful abs, massive arms. These thighs could crush a melon between them. I appreciate that you picked me and that you like my body, but you gotta do something about this. We gotta go have fun. With another living being."

Me:"Devon... I really am happy how you treat me in your body, but... I don't think we have the same type of dating pool"

Devon:"I don't care whoever you fuck. I'm straight, or atleast I think I am, but very accepting. And if my man inside of me wants to fuck some handsome man, I will be more than happy to help you out. Bros gotta help each other"

Me:"But it's gonna be your body, man."

Devon:"So? You could do much worse with my body and you didn't. Getting fucked or fucking someone in the ass is not so bad."

Me:"Ok? So what place do you suggest?"

Devon:"Gym. We can show everyone what this body can do. Lot of people observe me there, so you can pick whoever you desire"

We arrived to the gym. So many hot and sexy people in sight. Devon took control to do his normal routine. It sucks that I could also have a body like this, but back in the day I wanted to see the world. I wanted to be myself in a world that hates my kind. Twenty years later, the world is so much more accepting. It's not ideal, but wow. How things gave changed

I still can't believe that Devon let's me stay in his body. I mean, look at him. He could be anything, have anyone. And yet this hot piece of meat is depressed with his easy life, being alone most of the time. I guess that's what happens when your serial killer parents move your family every now and then. You don't have any friends and those that you did might already be dead by their hand. How horrible... I honestly can't wait to see them. To look them in their face. With their son's face and to kill them. I hope Devon will forgive me. I know he says he wants to stop them, but it's his parents. I just have to make sure that he will not stop me when the time comes

Devon was just finishing up, when a cute twink approached us.

The guy:"Hey, I hope you don't mind that I was watching you"

Devon:"Nah, it's ok man. You need a hand with lifting?"

The guy smiled. "Oh I do need a hand, I just don't know If I asked the right person"

Devon sat down, looking all confused:"That depends if..."

I stopped Devon mid sentence. "I think that's a cue for me to take over, ok?"

Devon now in the back of my mind:"Sorry man, I usually don't respond to guys hitting on me. Go on. Have fun"

I smiled at the guy and casually finished the sentence

We headed to the showers. The owners must be probably sick with all these guys hooking up here. But we didn't care. We made out passionately. The twins was all over my muscles, as I would be in his place too. He was a bit smaller. That gave me a sense of dominating him.

I stopped and smiled at the guy. "I... just gotta let you know that I am a virgin"

Devon:"What!!! Dude, you never had sex with anyone?"

The guy looked at me from top to bottom. "You? If good looking people like you are virgins, then I have no idea how world works."

I chuckled nervously. It was true. I was 21 when I died, but back then it was much harder to date a find gay guy. Now you can just download Grindr and in a few minutes you got yourself a guy in your bedroom

Twink:"Well in that case we can go to your place and have some fun there. This isn't a very nice place to have your first time, don't you think"

I just smiled and nodded in approval

We were now in Devon's messy room. The guy was really shocked to see such a straight man cave, but didn't say a word. We made out. He took off my shirt soaked in sweat from gym. His lips now kissed my neck and went to over my pecs, down the middle to my waist band. He took my hard dick into his hand, squeezed hard and looked me deep into my eyes. His look was so full of lust, yet I could tell it was superficial. This guy isn't looking for romance. He just wants to be fucked hard. So let's give it to him

I took a bit of control of the moment. I grabbed him by the neck. Turned him around and pressed him against the wall. He was now moaning in pleasure as I was rubbing my hard dick hidden beneath the layers of my clothes against his ass. I was still holding him, choking him.

I pulled of my shorts and his just low enough to get my dick in there. I wanted to push it right in there. As hard as I could

Devon suddenly screamed out from the back of his mind:"Condom dude!!!"

I left the guy, moanjng against the wall, reaching out to the condom on the shelf. I was struggling to find which side to pick to put it on my dick

Twink:"Wait. Let me" it was obvious he jas done it a few times. The condor was on in a matters of seconds. "Do you have any lube?"

Devon intervened again:"Top drawer. Give him more attention, man. You're making it all about yourself"

"Shut up" I said out loud as a response to Devon, but the guy looked confused. "Oh sorry, not you. I'm just nervous. I have lube right here."

The guy went on Devon's bed on his back. His clothes were now gone and his ass was welcoming my dick. His legs wide open.

I pressed lightly my dick with a ridiculous ammount of lube on top.

It went smoothly so I tried to went all the way. This seemed to hurt the twins. "Hold your horses. I'm good, but not that good. A bit slower, cowboy."

I went in slowly. The pleasure got to Devon too. The way this guys ass was tight around the head of our dick was sending our minds to heaven.

I picked up the pace. The twink was moaning in pleasure and in pain at the same time. I grabbed him by the next to choke him. My other arm pressing his thigh.

Twink:"Harder!" I thought I was going as hard as possible, but I didn't think he could take it much more

Twink:"Harder!!!"

Devon:"Oh, jesus. Let me do it" Devon took over. I was in the back of our mind again. Still feeling everything.

Devon was like a beast, but the twink was really enjoying it.

I could feel all the cum building up. Ooh there's gonna be tons of cum.

Devon was biting his lower líp and furiously pounding this guy's ass. Sure, "Straight" my ass.

Devon:"I'm cumming!!!"

Twink:"Fill me! I want it all"

Devon shot out the stream of cum into the condom. The wave of pleasure was so overwhelming. So much, that I lost control for a moment. I didn't know what was happening.

I opened my eyes. Still as Devon. Good. But I was back in control. But I was alone here. I couldn't feel Devon

"DEVON?!?"

Twink:"Right here. You pushed my soul out of my body, dude. If the guy here wasn't as welcoming you would have me erased or something"

Me:"I'm so sorry. I didn't think that would happen."

Devon:"It's fine. This guy's soul is asleep or maybe gone? I don't know. But I can't hear him now. Dude! I could feel my body's orgasm and his orgasm at the same time. I can assure you, that this is definitely the best I'll ever feel. So overwhelming."

Me:"Shit, dude. We gotta figure out how to get you put of there. Or you might be stuck"

Devon:"What if we wait for a bit? I kinda wanna try having sex with my body."

Me:"Kinky. You wanna get pounded too?"

Devon:"Guess I'm not so straight anymore, right?"

After our first fucking session, Devon passed out from all the sex. We still didn't know where this guy's soul was, but we would figure that out soon. I was just happy that I was finally alive. And I even have a boyfriend now? If that's what I can call Devon. Not to put labels on our relationship or anything

I grabbed the first pair of shorts from the floor I could find. Still sweaty from the sex, I headed to the kitchen to get myself a drink of water.

I was interrupted by a dark figure in the corner of the room

"Hello, son"

I was full of rage. But I can't fuck it up now. If I kill him, I won't know where his mom is and that would take me another decade to find her.

"Hey, dad. How was your holiday"

"Oh wonderful. Rome is your mother's favourite place to visit"

I tried to act as much as possible. Devon was in his room in a wrong body, so that wouldn't help me.

"Did you go to Colosseum this time?"

"Oh, we sure did." The father responded. But in the matter of seconds his expression changed. He was now holding a gun pointed at me

"What are you doing, dad?!"

"Devon knows we went to Bahamas"

Fuck. So he knew all along that I'm not Devon. But how?

"Me and my wife found out that the folk like you, who want to have your revenge for what we did, come back as ghosts to make our lives a living hell."

"So I'm not the first one?"

"Hahaha. Of course you're not. The first one came when Devon was 2 years old. Of course he doesn't remember, but that was a nasty one. All the paranormal stuff. We didn't know what we were dealing with back then. But now, oh we are used to deal with you. But possessing Devon is a first. Some possessed us and tried to kill us, but obviously failed."

"How can you tell that I'm not him? Besides the question."

"Oh it's an aura thing. Once you have the experience and a good guidance, you can just tell when a soul isn't in their rightful place."

"Now, tell me. Did Devon put up a lot of fight? Your answer will change the course of your torture."

"Devon is ok. He's in the body of the guy downstairs. It was an accident"

"Sure it was. That would make sure that we couldn't kill you or him, right? We're not so stupid, mister. Although I will not enjoy killing my son, there is no other choice."

"If you kill me, I will go after you even more. I have for the past 20 years and I will even after you die. My soul will not rest until you burn in hell"

"Sure you can do that, but it will take you some time to get out of this thing."

He was holding a wooden object with symbols

"What is that thing?"

"That mister, is your prison. It will bind you inside, until it breaks, or someone opens it on purpose. Which happens rarely if you ask me."

"You're doing a big mistake. Devon is in his room in a different body. Let him atleast get his body back."

"I can't take that chance. Me and my wife have a life to live up to and we won't stop just because our son got himself in some trouble and can't handle it."

"It's your son! You would kill him just so you can continue your killing spree?"

"Oh, definitely. Having a child is a great thing, but taking a life. That's something you won't ever forget about. The control it gives you."

"You're sick. No parent would ever do this to their child"

From the hallway a second voice spoke:"Oh these two are a chatty couple, right honey? So chatty chatty. But we need to hurry up, so get on with this" the mother said towards her husband

I could feel a horrible pain in my chest. Feelings very similar to the ones I felt 20 years ago. This couple was killing me again

"Sorry Devon. We couldn't have done anything" father said

"Devon hates you too!" I screamed out

"You're talking too much" and then nothing.

I don't know for how long this continued. I don't even know what they did with Devon's beautiful body. How they got rid of it.

Soon I started to feel walls around me. Walls? As a ghost I wouldn't be able to. Except if this is their prison that they were talking about.

I opened my eyes. There was only darkness. Nothing else. I looked around and on the other side of my prison was someone sitting, crying.

I got up to approach this person. He looked up

It was Devon. He was crying

"Paul! They killed me. My own mother slit my throat. I told her it's me. But she just killed me and trapped me into thus thing."

"I'm so so sorry, Devon. I never wanted any of this. I wanted revenge for them. But they were ready. They knew. Your father didn't listen to me too. He didn't care. I told him about your soul. But they are more sadistic then I thought"

"Paul, I'm dead. My parents killed me. My OWN PARENTS!"

"Devon, they are horrible people. And we will get our lives back. Maybe not our old lives, but we will. But first we have to get out of here. We're gonna get through this together. Ok?"

Devon collapsed into my arms. I was just glad that I could hold someone even if I was a ghost now. We were gonna get out of here, but I had no idea how

Outside of the ghost trap, the world went by.

Devon's father held the trap tightly as he watched his old house burn. His wife held her head on his shoulder.

"Ahhh, I think I might miss Devon. He gave our life some order"

"He limited us. We couldn't ve ourselves all the time. Now we can. What do you say we go pick up some hitchhiker?"

"Ohhhh, that's a lovely idea. Get rid of that box, it gives me the creeps"

And as the two of them were laughing while leaving, the box was sinking deeply into the river below the bridge until some human would find it.

If Paul and Devon would know what was happening to then right now, they would be devastated.

#male possession #family possession #possession male #body posession #Soul swap #male transformation #straight to gay #Criminal possession

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princessbellecerise · 11 months ago

Text

Prove It To You

──── ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧ ────

summary | You and your betrothed, Jacaerys Velaryon, are a love match. A feat that has upset many of the people vying for your hand, including Jason Lannister. When he makes a snide comment about Jacaerys not knowing how to please you properly, it’s up to the future king to prove him wrong

warnings | smut, slight insecure!jace, fingering, creampie, betrothed!jace, loss of virginity (m. and f.)

this fic is eighteen plus. minors please do not enter

divider by @princessbellecerise

In your day and age, finding a love match was extremely rare.

In fact, it was often considered a miracle just to find a couple that could tolerate each other, let alone love one another and look forward to marriage, like you and Jacaerys did.

You supposed that was why your match was often celebrated, your betrothed’s own grandsire, the king of all people, calling for an elaborate feast just to congratulate the two of you.

From all over, Lords and Ladies from the great houses travelled to King’s Landing to bestow their best wishes upon you and Jace. Some genuinely happy for the two of you, some surprised, and some even…bitter that it wasn’t them.

Despite all your protests, you and Jacaerys had been the center of attention all night which was hard for two people as reserved as you were. You supposed you were at least grateful to have your lover by you side, holding his hand under the table so that you were not alone in your discomfort.

Every time some drunk Lord gave a toast or sloppily congratulated you, all eyes would be on the two of you. And every time, you wanted to bury your head in Jace’s shoulder to shy away from the attention.

It was so embarrassing to have people constantly looking at you, whispering their doubts and their gossip. No doubt people were pitying all of the unlucky gentleman you had declined just to be with Jace. Of course, no one would dare speak ill of the future king, but the curiosity as to why you picked him out of all your suitors still lingered.

After all, you had every man from Dorne to Casterly Rock asking for your hand, and yet you chose the sweet, quiet prince who many even hesitated to call him that.

Much to your dismay, the rumors of Jace and his parentage were still active even all these years later. Even when the king himself had named him as an heir, people still wondered. And for many people, especially the men that you had rejected, it made them feel as if your match was a bit…umbecoming.

After all, it was one thing to lose the most beautiful maiden in all of the land to a prince, but to an illegitimate one? Some people that believed the rumors just couldn’t handle that type of rejection.

Some people like Jason Lannister.

The man was sat a couple of seats down from you, but even with how loud it was, his voice still managed to stick out from the crowd. He was as loud as the roar of his family’s sigil, and it was hard to block out all of his jests and drunk comments from where you were seated.

Under the table, your grip on Jace had tightened the more Lord Lannister talked. It was like you were taking your anger at his snide comments out on Jace’s poor flesh, but the prince did not mind. In fact, he was too busy clenching his own fist to notice that it was yours causing him pain. The diplomatic smile on his face began to slip a little bit the more that miserable man ran his mouth.

God’s forgive him—Jace was trying his very best not to kill him.

“And then I said: I’ll buy you a bloody dragon if that’s what you want, but I guess the lady wishes to be with one that has true blood running through his veins.”

The whole section around the Lannister burst out laughing, but you didn’t find his commentary of your last interaction entertaining, and neither did Jace. His jaw ticked, obvious annoyance in his eyes as you shared a look. It was hard to miss the slight dig Lord Lannister had thrown at him by adding in true blood.

A dig that made Jace uncomfortable, just as he always was when someone even remotely questioned who his parents were.

A few seats over, you could see that you weren’t the only ones barely hanging on to your diplomatic smile as Princess Rhaenyra struggle to even lift the corner of her lips at Jason’s recount. Much like her son, she did not like it when people brought up who the father of her children was. And understandably so—as it wasn’t their business who the Princess chose to father her heirs.

You yourself somehow always knew the truth, despite Jace never really talking about it with you. But with the resemblance to Harwin Strong as clear as day, you knew that he wasn’t of any Velaryon blood. Not that you minded though, because if he was, he wouldn’t really be your Jace.

Sweet, kind, and more gentle than any of those other Lords that had approached you combined. Your Jace that was patient and…

Positively about to lose his mind as Jason Lannister made another remark.

“I think it is good, you know. That Lady Y/N choose the prince, because honestly we all know that I can be a bit much at times,” Everyone laughed and agreed at this. But Jason wasn’t finished. “No, no, I think it’s extremely fitting that she chose him, because Y/N is a simple woman and she needs to be with someone…unexperienced to match her naïveté. Gods knows I’ve made plenty of rounds in my days, but Prince Jacaerys is noble enough to never experience such things. A good thing for his future wife, I suppose. Or bad depending on how many children she should want.”

Laughter immediately rang out at the last few parts, and Jace turned beet red as Lord Lannister all but insinuated that he wouldn’t know to…um…satisfy your needs.

Your jaw dropped at the crude comment, disguised as a joke that many deemed funny. You even caught the king and his sons chuckling a little bit, which was the only reason you couldn’t physically do anything about what he said. It was just harmless teasing, that was all. But you knew more than anyone that Jace wouldn’t take it that way.

And you were right.

Your lover had always been quite sensitive, but especially when it came to you and your relationship. He already possessed many self-doubts because his kind nature held him back, often prompting Jace to believe that he was weak. Which was the last thing he was, you assured him, but sometimes when an idea was in his head it was hard to get rid of it.

Which was why the minute Jacaerys believed that Lord Lannister was making a mockery of him, he got angry. And suddenly the warm grip that had been keeping you grounded all night was gone, and you watched with a thumping heart as Jacaerys stood up.

His fists slammed angrily against the table, which caused you to flinch and the silverware to clatter underneath his force. Immediately, the sound of his chair scraping had silence bestowing over the crowd of nobles, everyone’s eyes on him as he stood there.

Worriedly, you looked up at Jace and you hoped that he wasn’t about to cause a scene, possibly jumping across the table to strangle Jason Lannister. It sure looked that way, so you tried to calm him down by standing up as well, gently whispering in his ear,

“Jace, my love. It is all right. Let him mock and let us just sit back down, alright?”

A comforting hand was placed at the small of his back, but even your gentle touch couldn’t shake the anger and embarrassment he felt. With everyone looking at him, whispers began to rise. Rhaenyra’s face dropped as her son turned beet red.

“Is something the matter?” The king asked, and that seemed to be the only thing that could finally snap Jace out of his trance.

The prince looked at his Grandsire, and he was oddly calm as he moved his lips.

“I am fine, your grace,” Jace insisted through a tight smile, his eyes not reflecting the emotions he was putting out. “I’m just a little bit overwhelmed, that is all. All of the attention tonight has clouded my head and I think I shall head to my chambers before I gain a headache. If that is alright with his grace.”

“Yes, of course,” Ever having the soft spot for Rhaenyra and her children, Viserys dismissed him from the feast and Jace took off at a pace faster than you had ever seen him walk.

He stormed out of the grand dining room, and that left only you, the center of attention now that your betrothed was gone.

“I…” Your eyes were steadily focused on Jace’s disappearing back, and you knew in your heart that you had to go after him. To make sure that he was okay, because you knew how these kinds of things got to him. “Is it all right if I be excused as well, your grace?” You asked as kindly as you could, throwing in, “I don’t believe I’m feeling very well either,” so that no one would be too suspicious of you going after Jace.

Of course, it was probably obvious what you intended to do but Viserys dismissed you anyways. So, you quickly bowed and then headed after your lover as fast as your feet could take you.

Jacaerys hadn’t left that far before you, so it was easy enough to catch up to him, slipping in behind him right as he prepared to close the doors to his chamber.

The wooden locks clicked into place and now you were stuck there with him as Jacaerys looked at you with his jaw slightly dropped.

“My love, what are you—”

“I had to see if you were all right,” You told him quickly, quieting your voice as if there was anyone but him around to hear you. “You…left dinner quite early and quite abruptly,” You added, “So I wanted to make sure that Lord Lannister didn’t hurt your feelings too badly with his poor jests.”

At this, you weren’t expecting Jacaerys to scoff at your words. You were surprised when he looked at you fiercely, the look in his eyes one that you had never seen before.

Pure anger.

“It is not my feelings that I’m concerned about,” He then told you, shaking his head, “But rather yours, and what you might feel towards me after his…implications.”

“His implications?” You rose a sudden eyebrow at this, extremely confused as to what Jacaerys was trying to say. “And what exactly did Jason Lannister imply that would effect my feelings towards you?”

“Well isn’t it obvious?” It wasn’t. “He was trying to imply that I won’t know how to fuck my own wife! The nerve he has, saying that to your face. I am sure he hoped it would steer you away from me to soothe his own ego, but I assure you, sweet darling, that while I am inexperienced, I am still well-versed on how to please a lady. I have read many books—”

“Jacaerys!”

You cut him off as heat flooded to your cheeks, which luckily he wasn’t able to see. A burning feeling traveled through your body at such lewd words, words that you had never heard escape from his mouth before. Never in the presence of you or any other lady for that matter.

Words that…sent a flaming desire straight to your core.

“Oh gods,” As if he suddenly realized what he had said, Jacaerys backed away and covered his mouth bashfully. In the heat of the moment, he had ranted entirely too much and now he had flustered his poor betrothed, who looked like she didn’t know what to do with herself as she looked at him. “My darling, I am so sorry. I did not mean—”

You cut him off with a giggle and Jacaerys was floored when you started laughing at his rambling rather than scolding him. Laughing as if what he had just said wasn’t inappropriate, and entirely not a conversation he should be having with you while you were unwed and alone in his chambers.

But alas, you did not seem to mind as you walked up to him and placed your hand in his. Jacaerys felt his cheeks heat up as his sheepish gaze met yours, but you were nothing less than amused as you said, “My dear prince, it is quite alright. I do not mind if you speak of such things with me.”

“But—”

“In fact,” You ignored his protesting and kept going, the burning sensation of your core egging you on. “I quite…liked hearing you say those kinds of words.”

“You did?” The disbelief was evident on his face. Jacaerys couldn’t hide his shock as you shyly nodded, giving his hand a tight squeeze.

“I think it is exciting that you think of me that way,” You confessed, slowly bringing your body closer to his. Jacaerys nearly lost his breath as your head craned to look at him, your eyelashes batting innocently. “That you’ve thought enough about us making love that you actually gained knowledge on how to do it properly.”

“I did,” Jace confirms with a bob of his throat. A twitch of his cock at how close your bodies were. “I read…I read all about it. I even asked…a few knights about it so that I could make sure I did it correctly. When the time comes, of course.”

“Is that so?” You purred as you ghosted your lips against his, Jace taking in a sharp intake of breath from the action. His body was screaming at him to just close that gap between the two of you, to kiss you make all his desires melt away. But his mind…the lessons that he had drilled into his head since childbirth, held him back.

Jace knew more than anyone that there was a certain order to these things; that he had to be gentleman to the very last second until you were wed. That he had to be patient and most importantly, not think about all the dirty things he wanted to do to you in that moment.

It was improper.

You knew it, and he did too. But somehow, as your lips and his own desire tempted him, Jace for once in his life seemed to not care for the rules.

“Yes,” He breathed out in ecstasy as his mind finally sunk out of reason, giving into the temptation that claimed most men. He looked down at you and then he uttered the words he knew would cause him nothing but trouble.

“Would you like me to prove it to you, my darling?” He asked. And you, having become just as eager as he was, nodded.

“Yes, my prince.” You all but begged him.

And so it was sealed. Jace’s lips met yours in a swift kiss, hot and passionate as you tangled your fingers in his hair. Jace moaned as you tugged, a way to bring him closer without saying the words. Quickly, your lover complied and Jacaerys moaned in your mouth as your body pressed against his.

Likewise, you let out a small gasp as the feeling of his hard member brushed over your thigh. You knew that men got…excited while doing certain acts, but you certainly never witnessed it before and you never expected it to turn you on like it did.

Jace’s arousal only triggered your own, something in between your legs beginning to stir as you deepened the kiss.

Almost involuntarily, your thighs began to grind together causing Jace to smile lightly against your lips and hold you even closer. With clammy hands, he pressed down on your waist and managed to guide your body towards his bed without breaking the kiss. Then, once your back hit the soft fabrics of his sheets, he pulled away and crawled on top of you.

Soft brown eyes met yours and you could see that Jace’s pupils were blown with desire. Lust, an emotion you’d never seen so prominent before, danced across his face and promoted him to reach out and trace the soft curves of your cheeks. He leaned down to kiss them both, and when he whispered in your ear how much he loved you, you couldn’t stop the shiver that ran down your spine.

You needed him, and you needed him badly. Your body was aching in way that you never thought was possible before, every fiber in your being craving Jace. Your most intimate parts were throbbing for him, and you wanted him to touch you before the sensation drove you wild. So, in a quick desperation, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your chest.

Jace looked surprised as you did, shocked by the desperate look in your eyes. He had never imagined that you’d want him as much he wanted you, but alas, he wasn’t going to question it. Like a good boy, he started to comply with your silent request and gently massaged the clothed flesh underneath, his actions causing you to gasp a little bit.

You looked at Jace and the feeling felt nice but—you wanted more. Hastily, you grabbed his hand again and brought it down to ghost over the strings of your dress, already beginning to undo the laces before Jacaerys quickly helped.

Together, you managed to get the tight fabric loosened and Jace nearly drooled as your breast popped out. The sweet sight of your exposed flesh caused his cock to twitch, wanting nothing more than to lean in and capture your breast in his mouth. He wanted to touch you and he wanted to explore you so bad, so that’s what he did.

He left the bottom half of your body clothed so that he could take one of your hardened nipples into his mouth, the new sensation taking you by shock. You gasped as Jace’s lips wrapped around your bud, licking and sucking and causing you to moan as you tangled your hands in his hair.

Never had you ever experienced the pleasure of someone sucking on your breasts before, and Jace looked up to see that you had fluttered your eyes shut in pleasure, a smile on your face.

Clearly, you were enjoying his actions which made him a bit more confident as he moved to your other bud. He took that one in his mouth and left sweet marks you’d have to cover in the morning. Licking and marking your chest so that you may remember who you belonged to, and the pleasure that he caused you.

Jace knew you wouldn’t forget; not after what else he had planned for you. After this, he was going to make sure his beloved knew in her heart and soul that the man she was going to marry was more than capable of pleasuring her.

Not that you ever doubted him anyways, but you were throughly shocked when Jace abandoned your chest for something a little more exciting. For something he had learned from Daemon in secret; a sure fire way to get any lady riled up.

Jace trusted his uncle and you trusted him, so when he started to pull the rest of your dress down you didn’t resist him. In fact, you aided him by lifting your hips up, eager to get the restricting fabric off. It felt like it was choking you even though your chest was already exposed. Restricting you from experiencing what you really wanted; what Jace was desperate to show you.

You could see it in his face that he was determined, biting his lip as he glanced your body over. By now, you were fully naked below him and your cunt throbbed as the cool air lapped against it. It caused you to shiver and look at Jace with a questioning look in your eyes, wondering what else he had in store for you.

Fortunately, Jace was generous lover and he didn’t keep you waiting long. Which was why he leaned back down to connect your lips together.

The kiss was hot, desperation spilling over like lava from an active volcano. It burned both you and Jace but the sting felt so good, especially when he started to use his fingers to trace your body.

Ever so lightly, he trailed down and your hips bucked a little as he brushed some of your sweet spots. The spots on your body that had you trembling a little, white hot desire flashing in your stomach.

You didn’t stop him as Jacaerys trailed his fingers lower and lower, but you had to admit that you were nervous. His lips helped a little bit, but the nerves you felt from being touched for the very first time seemed to eat you alive.

You were glad Jace took the liberty of studying before hand because you would have no idea what to do. You let him take control and it was obvious that Jace was grateful as he pulled away from your lips.

Slightly swollen, he curved them into a smile and lingered just below your belly button. Tempting you with his feather-light touches, dazzling you with those big brown eyes.

You swore your heart was going to burst in your chest from all the love and excitement you felt, and you were sure Jacaerys felt the same. You hadn’t the courage to fully look at him yet, but you caught glances of the way his cock was straining against his dress pants. Thick and hard, a fact that made you both nervous and eager.

Slowly, your body grew hot and your mind went blank as Jace leaned down to nibble on your ear. Sighing lightly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and shivered when he began to speak.

“Sweet girl, would you like for me to show you what I’ve learned now?” He all but purred, and you couldn’t stop the embarrassingly quick nod that came from after, nor the clench of your thighs as your core throbbed.

“Please—” You rasped out the word like a begger on the streets asking for favor. Only, it wasn’t food or gold that you were seeking.

You wanted him, and only him as you stared up at Jacaerys. Your E/C eyes met his dark brown ones and you could see them twinkling as he smiled at you, obviously pleased with your answer.

“Hm,” He pretended to think about it for a moment which nearly killed you with anticipation. You bit your lip as his fingers danced dangerously close to your heat, obviously teasing you which you hated.

Luckily though, Jacaerys had never been a cruel man, so it was only a few more seconds of torture before he gave in to your desires. “As you wish then, my love,” He decided, and then his fingers dropped to a place that only he could touch.

“Jacaerys—”

You mewled as his slender fingers rubbed your aching core, gasping when he brushed over your bundle of nerves and then crying out as Jace pushed a finger inside of you.

You were wet, so it was easy for him to sink into your cunt but it didn’t make the stretch any less uncomfortable.

Tears kissed your eyes since you had never had anyone’s fingers inside of your cunt, not even your own, but Jacaerys was quick to soothe you with a simple praise. He whispered how proud of you he was for taking him, encouraging you on until he sunk deeper and deeper.

Your tight cunt welcomed his digit reluctantly, but eventually Jace was able to put his whole finger inside of you and he took note of how tight you were. Something in his brain couldn’t stop thinking about how much he wanted it to be his cock that you clenched around, but as agonizing as it was to have to wait, he knew that this was a crucial step for you.

So, slowly he began to pump his digit in and out, looking for any sign of discomfort from you. He held your gaze and while it did sting just a little bit, you couldn’t deny that the foreign sensation also felt…kind of good.

You’d never felt anything like it, but it made your walls clench in ways that had you moaning a little. Jace took this as a sign that you liked what he was doing and kept going, something inside of you began to awaken. Pleasure, perhaps, stirring inside of your cunt as Jace pleased you just the way he had learned.

You were gasping and groaning, your mouth forming into an ‘o’ shape when Jace’s finger brushed against a particularly sensitive part inside of your sex. Involuntarily, your hips bucked off of the bed, your back curling to the point where Jace had to hold you down.

He licked his lips as your delicious moans filled his ears and decided all of a sudden that you were ready for more.

Slowly, he sank his middle finger into you and then began to quicken his pace. The added digit surprised you, but it was definitely welcomed by your fluttering cunt. And fuck—you never knew anything could feel this good, broken moans slipping through your lips as Jacaerys assaulted the most sensitive parts of you. His thumb rubbed pleasureful circles against your pearl while his middle and index fingers brushed against your sweet spot over and over again. It seemed that Jace had found just the right angle to please you, and whatever it was had you gasping for breath.

It felt so good and it caused your cunt to clench around him, Jace panting as a tight feeling built up in your stomach. It almost…it almost felt like there was something inside of you that was going to burst, like a dam threatening to overflow at any moment. It built and it built, waves of pleasure lapping over you the more Jace played with your pearl. The combination of him hitting your sweet spot and doing that was enough to send you over the edge, and a strange volcano of bliss erupted over through body.

“Mhmm, Jace! Oh, gods! I’m gonna—”

You didn’t get to finish your sentence as suddenly, your very first orgasm rushed over you and stole the very breath from your lungs. You nearly stopped breathing as your cunt clamped down on Jace’s fingers, your sweet arousal coating the digits and the sheets underneath you. No doubt they were drenched from the sin that Jace had just pulled from your body, but that was the absolute least of your concerns.

Your were more worried about the fact that your mind had gone blank, your eyes hazy as you experienced the foreign pleasure.

It caused your body to nearly go limp and you were mumbling incoherent nonsense as Jace watched you. Brown eyes drank in every single detail that was in front of him, burning the image of your sweet cunt coated with your juices in his head. Coated with your orgasm that he pulled from you, despite never even laying with a woman before.

To say he was proud of himself was an understatement. Jace was so happy that he made you come undone with his fingers, but he was so hard that he could barely find it in himself to gloat.

Not when his cock was still straining against his trousers, reminding Jace that the best was yet to come.

His fingers had only been round one. But—you quickly realized that there was more in store for you as Jace began to get undressed.

One by one, you watched with anxious eyes as each article of Jace’s dress clothes came off. First his tunic which had you staring at his defined chest, then his belt which had you trembling in anticipation.

Finally, when Jace’s trousers came off and he was as bare as you were in the moment, you held your breath as your eyes focused on his hardened length.

It was the first time you had ever seen a man in such a way and Jace’s cock intimidated you. It stood tall against his stomach, almost taunting you as he walked closer.

As if he could sense your nerves, Jace’s expression turned to one of sweetness and reassurance as the prince mounted you and positioned himself near your entrance.

Slowly, he began to stroke the tip of his cock against your folds which caused you to pant heavily. You wrapped your legs around his waist like it was instinct, and Jace’s right hand came up in order to loving stroke your face.

He stared into your eyes, and then he began to push himself in.

The pain that everyone described wasn’t so bad, especially not when Jace had already warmed you up. In fact, you were pleasantly surprised that it was no more than a slight sting, that died down as Jace stilled his hips inside of you.

He waited until you were more comfortable to start moving, looking at for the slightest signs to stop. He was always so sweet, your dear betrothed. So loving and gentle with you.

But now, it was time to be anything but.

The ache you had for him was becoming unbearable so you moved your hips to let him know it was okay. Holding on tight as he began to push past your barriers, your walls and hands gripping him tight.

Jacaerys groaned at the feeling once he was fully sheathed inside of you. So tight—fuck, you were so warm. He swore that you were sucking him in, already on the path to milk him dry.

He felt like he was going to come and not that the prince had any complaints, but he wanted to last longer for you. To make your first time special, so he held on and slowly moved his hips.

His pace allowed you to feel everything, every drag of his cock along your walls. It caused illicit moans to escape from your lips and your fingernails to dig into his back.

Jacaerys winced a little at the feeling but you didn’t notice due to the pleasure clouding your senses. The only thing you could focus on was the fact that his cock was hitting spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed.

So good—so sweet. Your prince was all yours, and you proved this by leaving small marks on his shoulder.

If anyone asked, Jace would simply tell them they were bites from bugs. Never would he reveal your secret, for he knew what the two of you were doing was forbidden.

But he didn’t care.

The future king didn’t understand how something so wrong could feel so right. It truly felt like you were made for him; born to take his cock for all eternity.

The thought of this caused Jacaerys to snap his hips more violently. His pace sped up and soon his cock was driving in and out with lewd sounds filling the room. The sound your wetness coating his cock became all that he could focus on, his own moans echoing throughout the room as he chased his peak.

Likewise, you were mewling underneath him, eyes closed in bliss. The feeling of him inside of you caused pressure to build in your stomach, which only accentuated when he reached down to play with your pearl.

Gasping, your eyes shot open and you moaned while Jacaerys held your gaze. He was confident in the way he moved his fingers, trusting his uncle and the books that provided his knowledge. Every source he sought out said that this would be action that brung you to your peak, this would make you come undone.

And Gods, how right they were.

Jacaerys watched as you began to writhe underneath him and how your eyes rolled to the back of your head the faster that he played with your sex. He toyed with all of the spots that made you feel good while simultaneously keeping his pace, rocking in and out of you.

It felt so good that you could hardly breathe, let alone think straight as you let out a shout and came without another warning.

Your legs locked up, your cunt clenching down on him and you held onto Jacaerys’ body for dear life as you moaned and writhed underneath him. Your eyes fell to the back of your head and sure enough, not even a second later Jace was joining you with his own peak.

The prince closed his eyes, breathing heavily as he joined your hands together before letting his seed coat your walls.

Nevermind the consequences or the fact that you weren’t even married yet, Jace just wanted to feel you and he did. He made sure that the two of you were as close as possible, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck and burying himself as deep he could go.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ear and you drank them in, drank him in as a warm feeling coated your body. You were breathing heavily and you had never felt so sweaty, but you were content laying underneath Jacaerys and looking into his eyes.

At that moment, nothing else mattered to you and when his lips captured yours, you felt complete.

A little sore, but it didn’t matter as Jacaerys pulled away and stroked your face.

“Are you alright, my love?” He asked softly, and you nodded as a smile crossed your face.

“I’ve never been better,” You told him honestly. “That was…amazing.”

“I’m glad I was able to prove myself then,” Jacaerys said, and you both let out a laugh as he pulled himself out of you, rolling over so he could lay by your side.

You had to admit, you felt a little empty now that he was no longer inside of you but the warmth of his body was quickly able to make up for it. Jacaerys wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to lay on his chest whilst you both caught your breath.

You both knew that you only had limited time to hold one another other, since the feast was still raging on and neither of you wanted to be gone for too long. It would be too suspicious so the time that you did have, you cherished it in silence until finally it was time to get dressed.

Your cheeks were hot the entire time you slipped your dress back on and the smile never once left your face. You were so happy, you felt like you could barely contain yourself as you faced Jacaerys again.

Soft hands cupped your face and brown eyes met yours. Jacaerys leaned in to kiss you and you let him, resting your forehead on his as you sighed.

“Back to the monkey fest we go,” You told him sadly, not wanting to go back. You wanted nothing more than to just stay with Jacaerys and lay in his arms forever. You just wanted to be married already and never have to leave your chambers again if you didn’t want to. And you could tell that Jace felt the same way, but you both knew it wasn’t possible. Not tonight, at least.

“We shall be married soon enough, my love, and next time we won’t have to,” Jace promised as he grabbed your hands. They fit perfectly together, and you smiled as he kissed the back of yours. “Next time, we will not invite Jason Lannister and there shall be no more questions as to if I can please my wife.”

There was still distain in his voice and you knew he was still irritated by Jason’s comments. You’d be lying if you said that you weren’t upset too, but after what just happened, you knew you didn’t have anything to worry about.

“I think you’ve already proved that plenty,” You told Jace, giggling.

He smiled.

“Come. Let us go back before they come searching for us,” He suggested, and then off you two went, unable to wipe the smiles off of your faces, and the look that Jace threw towards the eldest Lannister once you got back to the feast was full of smugness, knowing that he proved him wrong and that his future bride had absolutely nothing to worry about.

#hotd #house of the dragon smut #jacaerys velaryon x reader #jacaerys velaryon #jacaerys velaryon smut #hotd smut #house of the dragon

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whocaresstillthelouvre · 2 months ago

Text

Wonderwall

Rating: Teen Pairing: No Outbreak Joel Miller x Female Reader Word Count: 4,550 Summary: Your ex boyfriend Simon is marrying Sabrina, the woman he left you for. You were sure you'd have have a date in time for his wedding... too bad you were wrong. Once again. your best friend Maria has to save the day by letting you use her handsome, single brother-in-law that owes her a favor as your date. Warnings: fluff, idk what's going on with me but there's so much fluff, soft joel, fake wedding date, rom com vibes, crying over a broken vibrator, no outbreak, maria and tommy are married, sarah and kevin live, british ex boyfriend, reader and joel are close in age (reader is 36, joel is 40), alcohol, i know the gif is marcus pike but i can't stop seeing young joel in this gif, anyways here's wonderwall, no use of y/n, not beta read

A/N: This was written for @justagalwhowrites' Joel Miller Birthday Celebration. Thank you to the always wonderful @ohheypedrito for suggesting the fake dating trope when I asked her what to write.

Masterlist

Fizzy mimosas, fluffy pancakes, crispy hash browns, and sweet maple syrup. Brunch on Sundays with Maria has been a long standing tradition for the two of you. Fifteen years of friendship kept stronger by always promising to make time for each other no matter what is going on in your lives.

These days, Maria’s raising a toddler while building a very successful career in the Austin district attorney's office whereas last night you cried over your vibrator dying while trying to pull an orgasm out of you for an endorphin rush. God knows you need one.

You’ve been in a hole since the arrival of Simon’s wedding invitation. The man you spent your most youthful and fulfilling years with is now marrying Sabrina, the beautiful co-worker he crashed your relationship for. Yeah, yeah, your twenty year partnership was already headed for the cliff, but her perky tits and pouty lips sure did speed up the demise.

“So, Simon’s wedding is next weekend, how do you feel?” Maria interrogates from across the table.

“Fine!” you stuff a pancake triangle into your mouth. “It’s fine! I’m fine!”

“Mm,” she lifts a skeptical eyebrow. Why do you lie to her? She makes three figures locking away liars, she can spot them a mile away. “Let me guess, you still don’t have a date?”

“Ugh, no, why did I mark two on the RSVP?”

“I told you not to,” Maria shakes her head

“Yeah, but, I-I want to show him I’m doing great without him.”

“Babe,” Maria grabs your hand and squeezes it, “I say this with all the love in my heart… you’re not doing great.”

“I knoooow!” you sigh, closing your eyes. “I just thought… I’d show up in my pretty dress with a hot man on my arm and show Simon I’m happy and fulfilled without his love.”

“But you don’t ha–”

“Please, I know. I just– I’m happy for him in some really odd way but I also want to be… happy for myself.”

“Okay,” she nods before taking a deep breath, “here’s what I’m going to do for you. You know Joel?”

“Your… brother-in-law?”

“Yes, he owes me a favor, soooo, he’s going to be your date,” she sits back folding her arms across her chest with a smug smirk. “He’s handsome as hell and a good man but he’s very quiet and intimidating to those who don’t know him. He’s perfect for this situation.”

You do know Joel… just not very well at all. There have been random run-ins at Miller family parties, but nothing more than a quick “hello” and “how are you?” exchanged between the two of you. He seems the opposite of your Dartmouth educated, polo playing yuppie of an ex. “Yoo hoo,” Maria waves her hand in front of your face catching your attention. “Does that work for you?”

“Oh, sorry, yeah, I think… it does,” a relieved smile lifts your face.

Maria has, once again, fixed your problem.

—-

RING… RING… RING…

Your fingers nervously tap against the countertop. “Come on, pick uuup, pick uuuup, pick uuu–”

“Miller,” a deep voice answers.

“H-Hi, uh, Joel?” You feel a third your age, like you’re right back in middle school calling the cute boy in your science class because your friend dared you.

“Speaking.”

“Hey, uh, you’re my wedding date? Maria… she gave me your number so we can plan?”

“Oh, yes,” his voice softens. “Saturday, right?”

“Yeah, uh… I think it might be good to go over a story for us before the big day.”

“Right,” he chuckles, “I’m all ears.”

—-

Your eyes roam down your notes from the call. “So, we formally met at Kevin’s graduation party. I call you ‘honey’, our first date was to a movie and then to pizza. We’ve been together for a little over a year. You hate sushi and love tamales. You don’t like water slides. You play the guitar. You have a daughter named Sarah who’s a senior in high school. You own a construction company with Tommy… I think that’s about right?”

"Believe so," the bass of his quiet voice causes goosebumps to pebble your skin. If he's doing this to you over the phone, what will the wedding be like?

"Okay," you settle against your sofa, "and for me?"

Papers shuffle before Joel clears his throat. “Hm, okay. I asked Tommy for your number after Kevin’s graduation party. You work at an insurance company, but you dream of owning your own bookstore one day. You love mashed potatoes. I call you 'baby.' Your favorite color is bronze. You’re a night owl forced to be an early bird. You love Taylor Swift unapologetically. You like staying over at my home because your favorite coffee place delivers to my house.”

“Perfect. I know this is totally weird and all, but, thanks for doing this. Sometimes I allow my pride to sabotage me... and Maria has to come in and save me.”

“She’s good at that.”

“Thanks again Joel.”

“You’re welcome,” his voice feels you with warmth. “I’ll pick you up on Saturday.”

“Yes, Saturday. Until then, have a good week.”

“You too.”

After saying goodbye, you hang up with a plume of butterflies in your stomach.

—

“Okay! Get ready!” you shout from behind your bathroom door.

Your Sunday brunch date with Maria has been moved up to a Saturday afternoon primping and preening spree in your home as she helps you get ready to watch the once love of your life marry someone else.

You step out of the bathroom to find Maria sitting cross-legged on your bed. As soon as she sees you, she leans forward with wide eyes.

"Wow," she breathes, her voice filled with awe. "I mean, seriously, wow."

"Really?" you ask, giving a twirl in your mauve dress, adorned with a delicate print of sequined flowers blooming across the bodice.

“Really,” her eyebrow angles as she nods, “I can’t wait for Miller to have to deal with keeping his cool around you.”

“What?”

Maria just smiles, “Let’s just say, you look hot, that’s all I’m going to say.”

___

A shiny black truck pulls into your driveway. Panic jolts through you as you watch the door swing open from your front window. Out steps Joel Miller, impeccably dressed in a black suit. Oh good lord–he’s your date. Like, date date, as in the guy you’re going to be spending the rest of the night with. The anxiety over Simon and Sabrina’s wedding fades into the background, replaced by the overwhelming challenge of maintaining your composure in the presence of someone who looks that stunning in a tuxedo.

The doorbell rings.

Okay, okay, you got this.

A gust of pleasant autumn air hits your skin when you open the door. Oh good LORD, he looks incredible. His hair is longer than you remember, falling in gentle waves you dream of running your fingers through. His beard is neatly trimmed, though slightly patchy with a strong mustache that frames his plush lips. He has a shy smile, his dimple makes a divot you want to press your finger into. His simple black suit stretches around his obviously toned and broad shoulders.

“Hi, it’s uh, nice to see you again. Come on in,” you say, opening the door wider and stepping aside.

“Course,” he replies, striding in past you. His hand twitches nervously when he turns and takes how you look fully in. “You look– y’look beautiful.”

A flush of warmth spreads through you at the compliment from the most handsome man you’ve ever seen, now standing in the middle of your living room.

“Oh, thanks, uh, it’s not every day your ex boyfriend of twenty years gets married to the woman he left you for… so I guess I needed to show off.”

“It’s–yeah–good,” he stammers, his eyes darting around the room, clearly avoiding your gaze.

“Well, uh, I just need to slip on my shoes and grab my bag, then we can get going. Make yourself at home.”

“Sure thing.”

As you head down the hall to get your things, you hear him let out a long sigh.

Don’t worry dude, I get it. It’s going to be a long night.

“So, um, I know, this is awkward,” you say, returning to the living room and dropping your shoes on the floor, “but I’m really grateful to you.”

He chuckles, sitting on the edge of your couch. “S’alright. I can’t say no to a free meal and open bar.”

“If I still know Simon’s taste, it’ll be a top-notch open bar too,” you muse, slipping into your high heel and bending over to fasten the buckle.

You glance up when you hear Joel’s breath catch. He’s staring intently at you–more specifically, at your exposed leg and thigh, courtesy of the high slit in your dress.

You really had to pick the dress that Maria dubbed “the revenge dress,” didn’t you? He clears his throat and quickly averts his gaze, but the charged atmosphere lingers. You try to ignore it, buckle your other shoe and grab your clutch.

“Ready?” you ask.

“I am," he replies, standing up and adjusting his neck tie, a hint of color warms his cheeks. .

—-

Joel’s truck looks quite out of place pulling into the Hurts Family’s grand estate. Of course Simon’s getting married at Father & Mother’s sprawling manor. You can’t help but wonder if the altar and ceremony will be located in the same conservatory you and Simon lost your virginity to each other in.

The whole drive over, you and Joel practiced your spiels, all the while you tried to ignore the waves of attraction that vibrated between you and him in the small cab of his truck.

He pulls up to the valet and reluctantly hands his keys over to the college aged kid before hurrying over to your door, cutting in front of the doorman to help you down. What a gentleman.

Soft violin music floats through the air and white flower petals line the walkway leading into the massive estate that once felt like your second home. A nagging thought lingers in the back of your mind that you’re about to live what should’ve been your wedding day.

You breathe out deeply, Joel grabs your hand as he guides you into the house.

People mingle, some you don’t know, many you do. Aunt Billie, Uncle Martin, the cousins from Manchester, Simon’s favorite professor. Familiar faces surround you, what the hell were you thinking this would be okay?

You’ve known this home since you were twelve, Simon showed up in your seventh grade algebra class, a new student with bright blue eyes and blonde hair, you thought he was the prettiest boy you had ever seen, even before he spoke… the British accent would’ve been enough to sweep you off your feet. It took a couple years of friendship before you both admitted your crushes on each other, the confessions happened in the movie room, just down the hallway you stand near.

Love is fleeting, love is hopeless. You’ve learned to care for yourself like Simon once cared for you, but now in this home you used to sneak into, you feel just as alone as you did the day you moved out of the house you shared with him for a decade just two streets down from here.

“Hey, you okay?” Joel leans in and whispers. “Squeezin’ my hand mighty hard.”

“Oh,” you blink, refocusing on him, “I am, it’s just… really bizarre and everything. Seeing so many familiar people I haven't seen in years feels strange.”

“You’re doing good, I got you,” he says, letting go of your hand, and wrapping his arm around your waist, guiding you farther into the mansion.

___

The impressive altar stands in the conservatory–you know your ex well– this windowed dwelling means everything to him. Everywhere you look, peach and champagne flowers are nestled among lush green foliage. You and Joel settle eight rows back on the groom's side, just a few feet from the bench you lost your virginity on. Jamie, Simon’s friend from college, sends you a kind smile when you sit next to him.

Your foot taps nervously against the stone tile, keeping rhythm with the soft string music lilting through the air. You take a deep breath to center yourself as the processional begins. The family minister you’ve known since you were fifteen leads the way then–Simon. Still just as handsome, in that specific pretty way that drew you to him as a teenager. The slight waves of his dark blonde hair are more controlled and slicked back. His slender body is topped by wide shoulders from all his years of playing polo. His equally handsome brother Liam follows, along with a handful of friends you used to consider your own.

Joel’s arm wraps around you as Simon takes his place at the altar, his fingers resting firmly on your bare shoulder just in time for the bridal procession to begin. Everybody takes their rightful places waiting for the bride. Simon stands at the altar, laser focused on the doorway, oddly, you feel a sense of happiness for him. Maybe you feel less lonely with the comfort of Joel’s strong arm around you, maybe you’re just caught up in the emotions of the day.

As you expected, Lia and Ewan, Simon’s niece and nephew, are the ring bearer and flower girl. You were at the hospital when both of them were born. You taught both of them how to swim. They used to call you their aunt.

The small orchestra begins playing “The Wedding March,” the audience stands in anticipation of Sabrina’s entrance. The curtains part and she appears shimmering down the aisle in her ivory dress. Okay, you have to admit, she looks gorgeous. Joel pulls you closer, his hand rests against your hip as Sabrina and her father pass your row. You’re grateful for his presence, even if it’s just a comforting distraction that just happens to be pretend.

The look on Simon’s face is unmistakable when he takes Sabrina’s hand–it’s the same look he would give you whenever he told you loved you all those thousands upon thousands of times.

You take your seat, Joel’s hand finds your shoulder once more. It’s going to be damn hard to concentrate on the ceremony.

Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today.

—

You survive the ceremony… thanks to Joel and his calloused hand rubbing circles on your shoulder. As Simon and Sabrina lead the recessional out of the conservatory, Simon spots you and sends you a knowing wink and smile when he spots Joel next to you. Maybe it’s a good thing you attended, it’s the final picket placed in the closure fence.

“You good?” Joel whispers in your ear while watching the rest of the party leave. You turn to respond, failing to realize his face is now right next to yours. His lips now sit a breath away from yours. Panic slips in, overwhelmed by the thought of anyone catching an awkward moment like this, especially since you’re the ex girlfriend the groom left for his brand new bride.

Fuck it. You lean forward and place your lips against his, leaving a delicate peck against them. At least now you’ll have this moment that’s just for you.

—

The warm autumn sun is beginning to set casting the preened and pristine gardens of the Hurts Estate in amber tones. Thank god for the cocktail hour and open bar.

You sip your champagne and smile at a few familiar faces while gazing out upon the vast lawns you used to spend lazy days sunbathing and playing croquet on. What a bizarre homecoming of sorts. Joel is taking his role seriously, constantly checking on you and never leaving your side.

A familiar voice calls your name, pulling you from your reverie.

“Oh sweetheart! It’s so lovely to see you!” Simon’s mother, Adeline, greets you with kisses on both cheeks before pulling you into a warm hug. You’ve always liked the woman and she always adored you. She turns to your date, her eyes lighting up when she looks Joel up and down.

“Addy, this is my boyfriend Joel.” A rush of excitement is sent through you at the simple introduction. “Joel, this is Simon’s mom, Adeline.”

“Good evening ma’am,” Joel says, extending his hand to shake hers gently. “It’s quite beautiful here.”

“Oh, thank you! Aside from our two boys, this is our pride and joy. There’s nothing better than seeing your child get married in the place you call home.” .

“Well, I’ve heard a lot of nice things about this place, you have a lot of good memories here, right baby?” Joel looks at you with an affectionate smile. Oh he’s good.

“I do,” you smile warmly at Addy.

“Oh sweetheart! That makes me so happy! You’re always welcome here, I’m so happy Simon invited you!”

“I am too, it’s so nice to see you,” you say, realizing how much you truly miss her. You spent twenty years of your life around so many of these people before being cut off cold turkey from them.

“Shoot! I better keep moving and making my rounds! Do enjoy the bar, and make sure tell them Addy sent you; they’ll give you the real good stuff. Joel, are you a whiskey man?”

“Yes ma’am,” Joel replies with a nod.

“We’ve got some Old Rip Van Winkle, aged 25 years. Just tell them Adeline insists and they’ll pour you a glass.”

“Thank you ma’am,” Joel says gratefully.

“Oh, I like him darling!” Addy winks before turning to leave, her gold dress gleaming just as bright as her personality.

—

The large tent erected for the ceremony glows in pink and orange hues. Chandeliers hang from the ceiling overflowing with roses and garlands. It’s gorgeous and opulent everywhere you look.

You’ve been nervous about your table assignment since you sent in your RSVP. Who will you be stuck with? You prayed it would be strangers versus people you used to call friends. You thank your lucky stars when you’re led to table eleven, where you’re greeted warmly by strangers. You tell your new tablemates you’re an old friend of Simon’s, Joel grabs your hand and gently holds it while you introduce yourselves, shocked you still haven’t had to utilize the stories you and him invented.

Ladies and gentlemen! Please welcome for the first time, Mr. and Mrs. Simon Hurts!

The two lovebirds make their grand entrance, glowing and grinning in their newlywed aura before the symphonic melody of “Can’t Help Falling In Love” begins to play. Hilarious, the last time you heard this song it was on a playlist Sabrina had made for Simon… a couple weeks before your ultimate separation. You got into a fight over the amount of times he’d play it, he told you were overreacting and being dramatic, you should’ve trusted your instincts right then and there.

They look so happy and gorgeous together, dancing their first dance surrounded by all of their loved ones inside this picturesque setting. It should’ve been you…

Joel leans in closer, wrapping his arm around you, stealing your attention from your spiraling thoughts. “I can’t play this song on violin or cello, but I can play it on guitar, maybe I can play it for you sometime.”

You look up at him, your eyes locking with his, “I–I’d like that.”

“Thought you would,” he smirks, before leaning down to place a tender kiss on your forehead.

He’s been touching you all night, always considerate and tender, as if he holds an actual amount of reverence in his heart for you. God, he’s either the sweetest man to ever live, or he should give up the construction job, move to Hollywood and start acting.

—

Simon and Sabrina make their rounds after dinner, they’re a table away laughing and galavanting with friends you used to call your own. It’s been over a year since you last spoke to him and now as the ultimate final thing you’ve been dreading is near, you’re nervous as hell. Joel casually drapes his arm around the back of your chair before leaning forward and pressing his lips to the top of your head, helping subside some of your anxieties.

“You good?” he checks in with a soft whisper.

You nod, scooting closer into the shell he’s created for you with his large body.

Simon catches your eye with a warm, gentle smile as he leads Sabrina over to your table. You can’t be too mad at him, he’s been nothing but a gentleman since he forced the end of your already faltering relationship. Sabrina, well–she was just a better match for him. You wish them well, no matter how much it still seemingly hurts. You just want Simon to miss you a little bit.

The newlyweds greet the rest of the table, collecting well-wishes and flattery from the guests before turning their attention to you and Joel.

Simon bends forward and gives you a tight hug before thanking you and saying how lovely it is to see you. Sabrina says hello, you tell her she looks beautiful, she returns the favor.

Simon extends his hand to Joel and introduces himself. “I’m Simon, I’m sure you’ve heard a bit about me–hopefully some good,” he says, his ever present British charm helps cut through the tension radiating off of Joel’s gruff reservedness.

“She has,” Joel replies, shaking Simon’s hand. “I’m Joel. Nice to meet you both. Congrats. S’been a lovely wedding.”

The four of you make casual conversation. Joel mentions he’s a contractor, Simon’s eyes light up before he mentions how he wants to build a pool house. Your heart twinges a bit when you remember it’s all for pretend and there’s no way Joel could take the job. Joel makes a joke about how dinner was better than a No. 5 from Whataburger, eliciting a ruckus laugh from the newlyweds. You feel good, until the sinking feeling inside rears its ugly head and reminds you this is all a sham.

Sabrina nods to Simon in an unspoken understanding that they need to move on with their greetings. Joel wishes them well and thanks them for the lovely party. You smile and do the same.

“It’s good to see you happy,” Simon says as he gives you a parting hug.

If only he knew…

You’re quiet as you watch Simon and Sabrina walk away, Simon’s hand is placed on Sabrina’s back lightly stroking up and down. Joel softly says your name, breaking your concentration on the happy married couple.

“I like this song, let’s dance,” he says, rising and extending his hand to you.

“Wonderwall?” you ask, taking his hand and letting him lead you to the dance floor. “Let me guess, you can play it on guitar.”

“I do,” he confirms with a smile, pulling you close against his body. His large hand splays against your lower back, and yours finds its place on his firm shoulder. The wedding band has slowed the song down, couples gently sway around you. The twinkling lights above reflect in Joel’s dark brown eyes. You can’t stop looking at him, he can’t stop looking at you. The moment is intimate, to any other wedding guest, you look like a couple just as in love as the newlyweds.

You rest your head against his chest, breathing in the scent of his cologne–woodsy, smoky, with a hint of cinnamon. His thumb strokes against the skin of your hand as your bodies synchronistically move together. This doesn't feel like pretending at all.

The song ends, Joel makes no move to pull away, and you don’t either. The first notes of the next song begin and you recognize the drumbeat anywhere. You can’t believe you’re hearing it here, of all places.

“We can leave the Christmas lights up till January…”

“Ohh,” you let out a soft sigh against Joel’s chest, feeling your heart drop. “This was going to be our first dance song, I-I told him it as soon as I first heard it all those years ago.”

Joel tilts his head down, his concerned brown eyes peer into yours. “M’sorry, did you want to stop?”

“No, no, it’s–I can’t leave the floor during this. What if he sees me?”

Joel nods reassuringly before tightening his hold on you and pulling your joined hands in closer. His head rests on top of yours engulfing you with his broad body, like your own personal fake wedding date security blanket.

Your heartbreak slowly dissipates, mended by the gentle touch and attention of Joel. The song ends, he asks if you want to get a breath of fresh air, you gratefully nod before taking his hand and telling him you know a place.

—

The breeze rolling off the lake sends a chill across your skin, Joel takes notice, quickly removing his jacket and places it over your shoulders without hesitation.

“Thanks,” you say, sinking into the leftover warmth of Joel.

“No problem,” he says, shuffling his neck tie open and unbuttoning the top two buttons of his crisp white dress shirt. “I’m burnin’ up under it.”

You both fall into a comfortable silence as you watch the tranquil waves lap at the shore. “Sorry about earlier. It was just… a shock to hear that song. He moved on so quickly and I feel like I’ve just been left wondering how I can so easily be… replaced.”

“No need to apologize,” he sighs, “I’m not good at any of this stuff, but, you don’t seem like someone that’s so… easy to get over.”

Your heart skips a beat when you look over at him. The soft ambient glow of the full moon reflecting off the water bathes him in an almost ethereal glow, making him look like a knight in shining armor who walked through a portal to help save you from your own wounded heart you’ve been trying to heal for the past two years.

“Guess you just don’t know me very well then,” you joke, trying to slow down the thoughts racing within your heart and mind.

“No, but I think I’d like to,” he says, turning to you with a sincere look in his eyes.

“I-I’d like that too.”

Joel hesitates for a moment before asking, “There’s a new Curtis & Viper movie releasing next week. Did you want to go with me?”

“Like a real date?” you ask, your voice tinged with excitement.

“Suppose it would be. We could recreate our ‘first’ date that we told that one aunt of Simon’s all about. We’ll get pizza at the place across the street.”

“I’d love that,” you say, your excitement clear in your voice.

From across the yard, you can just make out the sound of the band playing for the wedding guests.

Joel takes a deep breath and turns to you with a warm, playful smile. “I feel better asking you here so you know I’m being for real. I really want to dance with you. May I have this dance?”

“I’d love nothing more,” you reply, a smile spreading across your face as he pulls you closer.

You remind yourself to send Maria a bouquet of flowers for setting up your fake wedding date as you settle into his embrace.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller x reader #joel miller fic #pedro pascal fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfic #joel x reader #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #no outbreak!joel miller

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amsznn · 4 months ago

Note

can you do one with dad matt?

him and the reader have a potty training toddler who walks around with a naked bottom half for easier access to the potty 😭 .

the kid has to tell the reader or matt when they need to use the potty so they can take them and theres a lot of accidents and stuff and its really cute

ACCIDENTS - m. sturniolo

it was a regular sunday evening for you and matt. at least, it’s your regular. typically if it was two years ago you and matt would be cuddled up on his bed enjoying the sweet silence and each other’s company.

well those times have changed. especially with your new edition to your family. your baby girl, aria, brought a whole new world to you and matt’s life. bringing joy and sometimes destruction.

and as of right now? she’s bringing destruction.

all you were trying to do was relax a bit on the couch. no matter what anyone says, parenting was not easy. especially not chasing around a toddler that refuses to use the bathroom.

“aria, baby, i need you to go potty.” you try and plead with the stubborn two year old. but she only pouts and turns her back on you letting out a stern, “no!” before running off again.

you heavily sighed before walking towards your daughter. swiftly picking her up, you removed the diapers that were on her. she needed to learn how to use the bathroom on her own eventually. you set your baby down, now bottomless, watching as she ran towards her dads room.

aria bursted into matt’s room as you followed behind, plopping down on the bed. “dada!” your girl’s sweet voice rang through the room before she collided with matt’s leg as he was seated on his desk chair.

“hey my beautiful girl, where are your diapers?” matt questioned softly before holding her up by her armpits. aria only pointed at you that was nearly passed put on the bed from exhaustion.

“she didn’t wanna potty.” was all you mumbled before dozing off. matt could only chuckle but somewhat felt bad since youve been battling with the girl to potty on her own for weeks now.

matt rose up from his seat and carried his daughter to the bathroom before stopping infront of her potty that was next to the big toilet. he sat her down and she only looked at him in confusion.

“sweetheart, if you go potty ill give you ice cream, okay?” maybe bribery wasnt the best parenting technique, but hey, you seemed desperate and worn out so if this could work maybe it could help you. at least thats what matt thought.

“okay, dada!”

matt smiled and nodded before walking out towards the door, making sure to leave it open just in case. “i’ll be right here sweetheart.”

a couple of minutes had passed before matt heard aria yell out, “done!” matt smiled to himself before yelling back. “did you wipe?” the girl answered back with a yes and matt walked into the bathroom.

lets just say..

she did go potty,

she just missed.

the potty.

after cleaning up both the bathroom and his daughter, matt made sure to put a diaper back on aria to avoid the same outcome. by the time he was done you had already woken up to see both your husband and your daughter eating ice cream on the kitchen island.

“guess what?” matt said as he saw your figure emerged from the room. “i went potty, mommy!” your baby proudly said with a mouth filled with ice cream. you couldn’t help but smile and give her a bunch of kisses on her chubby cheeks that you loved.

you also gave matt a bunch of kisses as well as one on his lips, as a thank you.

“i can’t believe you did it.” you said in disbelief as you also grabbed a bowl for ice cream.

“yeah well, there were some accidents.” both your husband and your daughter started giggling like a secret was shared but just for the two of them. you only shrugged, just happy about this milestone.

a/n: ugh this was so cute chat i love dad matt

#matt sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo angst #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo x reader #dad matt sturniolo #matt x reader #matthew sturniolo #matt sturniolo #chris sturniolo x you #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fluff

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celestiamour · 5 months ago

Note

May I request a flirty Edmund x flustered fem reader? Like the reader is trying to tend to his wounds after a battle or something but Edmund keeps distracting her by trying to show off and making teasing comments? And could it be a non-established relationship?

umm, I know you said requests were open (and you have the right to write what you want anyways) but if you don't want to do this then feel free to ignore this :))

anyways thank you! have a great day<3

ft. edmund pevensie x f! reader — the chronicles of narnia

╰₊✧ edmund flirting while you tend to his wounds┊0.7k words

setting: unspecified narnian age contains: descriptions blood/injury & mentions of battle, ed is a cheesy menace, medical inaccuracies probably

➤ author's note: i made it a bit shorter than planned, but i hope it’s still okay and that you’ll enjoy!!

“oh, god, edmund!” your concerned voice was a bit louder than it was supposed to be upon the sight of one of your beloved kings being brought into the medical tent, prompting you to quickly apologize to everyone in there before rushing to his side. the battle was already over and victory had been named for your kingdom of narnia, so several soldiers injured from the aftermath were being brought to you for recovery (thankfully, there weren’t so many that the youngest queen needed to go running around healing them with her elixir). “i was really hoping not to see any royalty today…”

he seemed a bit paler than usual from blood loss, but he weakly smiled at you rushing to his side, “edmund, huh? whatever happened to you insisting on calling me by my title?”

“is that really what you’re focusing on?” you immediately started removing his armor and cutting away at the fabric of his sleeve that obscured the damage for examination. it looked like an arrowhead got lodged in his arm and the wooden shaft got broken off at some point, needing to be removed in order for you to progress. “stay still and count to ten.”

“i don’t need to count to ten when the ten is right in front of— fuck!!” he almost bit his tongue in the middle of his compliment when you took the opportunity to take out the piece of metal with a pair of tongs, swiftly tossing it on a tray then applying pressure and working your magic as you were trained to.

“stop being so cheeky and let me get you cleaned up!” you huffed, trying to focus on your work instead of his flirtatious advances. it was no secret to anyone with eyes and ears that edmund fancied you and has been trying to woo you for quite some time now, but it seems that the only thing preventing you from being officially courted by him was your own denial of your feelings. even if the royal family made it clear that they would marry for love rather than status, you would still deny with everything in you that he always manages to make you falter without fail.

“a-at least if i die, the last sight i see will be the most beautiful girl in existence by my side,” he joked before hissing at the stinging sensation of you cleaning his wound. it was nowhere near the worst pain he felt or the closest he’s ever been to death, but he thought it would be funny to exaggerate the agony to get you to pay more attention to him as if it wasn’t already all on him.

“don’t say that! it’s not even bad enough to be that much of a bother, just remember to wash the wound with alcohol and change the bandages every day.”

“so i guess that means i’ll be seeing you every day since none of my servants are professionals like you are? i’m a king, you know, so it would only be expected to have the best of the best look after me!”

“… fine, i guess i’ll see you around this time for the next week for so until you’re fully healed…” his stupid smile made you get all hot and you turned around so that he couldn’t see your face for your reaction, but the very action told him everything that he needed to know.

“so do you think you could also help me up then walk be back to the palace to announce our victory and our relationship?”

“you hurt your arm, not your legs, so you don’t need my help to go back! also, we aren’t even a couple yet, there’s nothing to announce!”

“not a couple yet? so you admit that we will be someday?”

“oh, you’re insufferable!”

his cheeks ached a bit from all the smiles and laughter, able to ignore the pain like it was a mere paper cut thanks to the amusement teasing you has brought him. the day you’ll be his and he’ll be yours (although he always was yours) is close, he could feel it— and he’ll gladly milk this minor injury as much as he can if it means bringing that moment closer to him by spending more time with you.

#📜. her works #edmund pevensie #edmund pevensie x reader #the chronicles of narnia fanfiction #the chronicles of narnia x reader #the chronicles of narnia #narnia #narnia x reader #narnia fanfiction

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ramp-it-up · 23 days ago

Text

Knock You Down: IV

Photo credit to @thebluemage. Edit mine.

Summary: James Bucky Barnes is an avowed bachelor and one night stand artist. But when he meets you, he finds out that sometimes love comes around, and it knocks you down. Finally! Date Number Threeeeee!

This is a follow up to Part III

Word count: 3.5 K

Pairing: Art Dealer (mob boss) Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: This is the final part! (For now) I think that this is one that I will definitely write in answer to asks. I just love these two so so much! Thank all of you for rocking with me on this one. This was in part inspired by Seb Stan's latest pics and this press run 🫠, and partially inspired by an old song by some problematic people, lol. This is the result. As usual, I am Basil Exposition, so this is broken into parts.

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. Read at your own risk. SMUT!!!! The end of the Slow burn, now it's burning very fast 😅. Cursing, flirting, jealousy, apologies, Bucky cooking (a warning!), kissing, dry humping, dirty talk in both English and Romanian, voice kink, oral sex (m and f receiving), protected sex (yay Bucky!) And these two are so fucking fluffy. I'm scared, y'all. I want it to be good enough for the build up.

I no longer have a taglist. Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT Consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

-----

As soon as he entered the Brownsville Arts and Culture Center, James Bucky Barnes was hot. Blood was rushing to his ears and he needed a drink. He wasn’t sick; his symptoms were all due to you.

The black dress that adorned your body contained all of his hopes and dreams, but you seemed to be flirting with another man, twirling for him and then giving him a hug. To add insult to injury, you had the nerve to laugh and smile with the punk.

You in that black dress was everything in the world that Bucky could want, except maybe you out of that black dress. As his eyes traced down your form, he noticed the 5 inch red bottoms that you had on. Yes. You, out of that dress with just the red bottoms. That was what he needed in his life.

But first, he had to take care of that other man.

—-

“Benson’s work emphasizes the subjects’ spiritual essence over their physical appearance, don’t you think?”

You turned around at the sound of the deep baritone.

“Well hello, Mr. Rogers. How are you today? Delivering an art analysis given to you by AI? Oh. I forgot. You are an ‘art dealer.’ An art dealer who goes to Soul Cycle in Brownsville all of a sudden?”

Steve clutched his heart.

“Ah. I’m hurt, Y/N. I thought we were cool. But I guess I deserved the air quotes. I do actually love art. I took some art classes when I was a kid and I still love to sketch.”

“Hmmmph. Okay. I’ll give you that. But how is it that you popped up in my Soul Cycle class? Don’t play me, Steven.”

Steve raised his eyebrow at you and grinned. He understood why Buckiy was so drawn to you. Not only were you gorgeous, you were a spitfire. That was hot.

“I would never try to play you, Y/N. I also actually love Soul Cycle. Used to teach a class in Park Slope.”

“I guess you can’t judge a book by its cover, can you?”

Steve’s eyes slid over you appraisingly.

“Speaking of. You look very, very nice today.”

You twirled for him, feeling as safe as you would your brother.

“Nice. Okay, listen. I’m sorry about the other day. I was just trying to protect my friend. And you.”

Steve sighed and rubbed the back of his neck.

“I’ve never seen Bucky like this. He’s never been this smitten with someone before and let them into his life. But I get it now.”

Steve’s blue eyes were almost as beautiful as Bucky’s.

“Bucky is my family. Since we were kids. He’s always taken care of me. And I will do anything for him.”

He raised his eyebrow at you.

“I can see now that means that I will do anything for you, because I have a feeling that you’re gonna be around a lot. So do you forgive me?”

You considered Steve. He was not too different from his best friend, and you couldn’t hold a grudge. Not after Bucky laid it all out to you last night You opened your arms.

“Let’s hug it out.”

Steve chuckled and gathered you into his warm embrace. You pulled back and giggled, grinning at him.

“So what makes you think I’m gonna be hanging around?”

“Well, judging from the look on Bucky’s face, he’s serious about you.”

Steve nodded behind you, toward the door. You looked that way and saw James Bucky Barnes headed straight for you.

And he didn’t look happy.

—--

“Good morning, Frumoasă. You look stunning today. The exhibit is amazing, the space looks great and it seems that the right people are in the building.”

Bucky came up and placed his hand on the small of your back as he spoke to you, ignoring Steve. His blue eyes were storm clouds at the moment, and his touch was electric.

“Thank you, James. You’re so observant, I appreciate that. And you look very handsome today.”

You looked him up and down and bit your lip, meeting his gaze and the way he kept eye contact as he inclined his head in response.

Bucky was attractive as hell in his black on black shirt, blazer and slacks. You noticed that his collar was unbuttoned; the medallion hanging on his chest made you want to take it between your teeth. You stared at it for a moment, imagining such a scenario where that could happen and then met his eyes again, prompting desire to roll through you as Bucky licked his lips. He was right there with you.

You smiled at him in a way that you didn’t smile at Steve. Who was Steve Rogers, anyway? You could hardly remember meeting him as your mind went to the feel of being in Bucky Barnes’ arms.

You sensed an air of proprietariness as Bucky took your hand and kissed it, causing a shiver to run down your spine. Possessive Bucky Barnes felt like a sin you wanted to indulge in. You cleared your throat and looked at Steve, as if surprised to find him still standing there, watching the show.

“Well, I see some board members over there, I’m going to go do my job. Talk to you later, boys.”

You walked away and gave them a wink over your shoulder, and you caught both of them looking at your ass. You shook your head and chuckled as you went on your way.

“You trying to steal my girl?”

Everyone stopped when Steve laughed, his deep boom a distraction. Bucky still wasn’t amused.

“Oh. So you’re in love.”

“What?”

“You’ve never worried about me taking your leftovers or vice versa before. Hell, we’ve even shared–”

“Shut your fucking mouth.”

Bucky snapped at Steve who put his hands up.

“Whoa, there. Just yanking your chain, buddy; I know she’s special. I wouldn’t dream of making a move on her. Not that she knows I’m alive. When you walked up, I thought I was going to have to take off my jacket so you two could fuck on the floor.”

Bucky was barely listening to Steve as his eyes followed you around the room. One thing Steve said was echoing in his mind: “So you’re in love.”

—-

You floated through the rest of the day on a cloud. The exhibit was a smashing success with the

Board of Directors in attendance. Securing Howard Benson’s penultimate work from Rebirth was the feather in your cap.

And you had Bucky to thank for it.

Bucky’s visit was also a hit; he and Steve charmed the board members with the help of Sam and Nat, who arrived later. They all made amends for what occurred that week and you were left very impressed with James Barnes.

After a couple of hours at the event, Bucky came over to let you know he was leaving.

“I will see you later, Frumoasă. I have much to prepare for tonight. Nico will pick you up at 7:30.”

“See you soon, James.”

He kissed your hand again.

“See you soon, Y/N.”

—---

“It is actually insanely attractive how you handled yourself in the kitchen.”

You were seated with Bucky on his couch in his living room, looking over the New York skyline from his Brooklyn penthouse. The dessert had been delicious and the wine in your hand was spectacular.

“I was sure you’d order something in and just play it off. But I watched you create a meal in front of me, and I should have known that if you said you were going to cook, that you would do just that.”

Bucky’s heart beat double time at what you were saying. He wanted so much for tonight, but most of all, he wanted it to flow naturally. He saw that you were relaxed and open to him, which pleased him immensely.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Frumoasă. I enjoy cooking for my friends and family. Cooking for a beautiful woman is a treat.”

Bucky’s eyes slid over your form. You had changed to jeans and a color block sweater that just put your cleavage out there for the world, which was Bucky Barnes, to see. You also wore the same red bottoms from that day, and Bucky was beginning to think he had a foot fetish as you took them off at his entryway.

You took a sip of wine.

“How often do you do that? Cook for a woman?”

You barely hid your curiosity.

Bucky smiled and drained his glass, reaching over to refill it.

“Not as often as you’d think. Never had any other woman over here. Food is not usually the top priority with them.”

You pouted, which was so cute. Your spark of jealousy inspired Bucky.

“But I don’t want to talk about anyone else. Tonight is about me and you.”

Any uncertainty that arose was quelled by his assertion. You grew warm, so you finished your wine and rose to go to the window.

“This is the most gorgeous view I’ve ever seen.”

“Absolutely agree.”

You looked behind you and Bucky was still sitting on the couch, hands spread out on the back of it, checking you out. You gave him one of your adorable smiles and he came to stand behind you, and took you in his arms.

“I want you to know that you deserve everything, Y/N. To be cheered on and protected every day. And thoroughly ruined every night.”

You turned around and his hands went to your hips. It was the perfect moment.

“James?”

“Can I have a kiss?”

Bucky’s eyes dilated, and he moved his hand to your cheek. He licked his lips as he looked deep into your eyes.

“Ah, Frumoasă. I thought you’d never ask.”

His first movement was a subtle brush of your lips. He pulled back to assess the situation, and you didn’t know why, but that made your nipples tighten into stiff peaks. You gasped as Bucky watched you hungrily.

The air seemed to change around you, and you shivered. He lowered his head so his lips could meet yours again, and this time his mouth was gentle but demanding. You gasped at the spike of electricity that flared between you and Bucky took the opportunity to dip his tongue into your mouth, scorching your lips and soul. With a low groan, he shifted your angle, bending you backward a little to kiss you deeper and ripping a moan from you as you melted against him.

Good lord, could the man kiss.

At that point, he was holding you up, one hand on your hip and one hand on the back of your head as you molded yourself against him. Bucky’s fingers dug into you, sure to leave bruises the next day. You relished the thought as you moaned into his mouth again, giving him the opportunity to continue destroying your soul.

Bucky dragged his lips from yours reluctantly and stared at you, eyes almost black with desire. He brought his thumb up and wiped the moisture from your bottom lip. Motivated, you captured his digit, drawing it into the hot wetness of your mouth. He stared at you, mouth open, as you looked him straight in the eye and started sucking.

Bucky moaned as he pushed his thumb deeper into your mouth, and walked you back to the couch. He extracted his finger, watching the show your lips put on as he pulled it out, leaving them in a delectable pout.

“More,” Bucky demanded as he crouched down and took your head in both hands as he kissed you again.

His hands wound up in your hair, tugging gently, then on your back, then your ass as you arched your back to fill his palms. Bucky picked you up, then deposited you on his lap as he sat down on the couch, and you felt how aroused he was. His thick length was where you needed him most.

“Fuck! That feels good.”

Bucky was watching you grind on him like it was the best show on earth. Then he looked up at you.

“Yes, yes it does.”

He leaned forward and captured your bottom lip between his teeth, a preview of how rough he wanted to be with you. Then, he went in for another kiss. That continued for a good five minutes until he pulled away to stare at your swollen lips, and down to your cleavage, which was practically in his face.

When his eyes met yours, you were entranced.

“You good? You want this to happen?”

You nodded and took his hands in yours, guiding them up to your breasts, squeezing yourself with his hands. You rolled your hips, causing his breath to hitch in his throat.

“Like you said, James. More.”

You continued to grind on him, causing him to just gape at your body moving on his.

“I’ve dreamed of this so many times…”

“Yes? Tell me about your dreams, Baby.”

His hands moved to find your nipples through the lace of your bra and the wool of your sweater. He found them in no time, and pinched them lightly, then more roughly when you moaned.

“Mmmmnnnn. So fucking hot.”

Bucky kissed you again and then pulled away as he stared you down and tortured you.

“I dream about marking you up,” he kissed your neck under your chin, “to your clavicle,” a kiss there, “and all over this beautiful flesh until I get to your nipples.”

He looked at you for any signs of discomfort as he slipped his hands under your sweater to find the thin lace there. He found your hard peaks again and started rolling them both in his fingers.

“Then I want to kiss and suck them until you come in my arms.”

“Holy god, Jamie….”

Bucky’s eyes rolled at the second pet name you called him and continued.

“Wake up so fucking hard every morning since I met you. Then, I daydream about how wet and tight you will be after I made you cum, and how good it would feel to… to give you my cock. Do y’like that idea, Frumoasă?”

“Y-yesssss!”

“O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă.”

You almost came right then.

“D-don’t know what you said, but yes to whatever you just suggested.”

Bucky pulled you to him, and then chuckled into your ear.

“It means that I want to make you cum over and over again on my cock.”

You were already making a mess in your jeans, but you knew he could feel you soaking them at the moment.

“Please. Give it to me?”

Bucky groaned and kissed you again, this time encircling your waist in his grip and pressing you down on his bulge.

“You know I can’t deny you anything. Are you certain?”

“Yes, James. Please…”

He lifted you easily, kissing you as he walked you down the hall to his bedroom, depositing you on his bed.

“Y’look so fucking good.”

He crawled toward you on the bed and settled between your thighs as you hitched your leg over his. You pressed your core against his bulge and it had you muttering.

“Too many clothes.”

Bucky leaned up and you were fumbling with his button and he with yours. You looked up and laughed.

“Maybe faster the other way.”

“Agreed.”

You two made quick work of your own garments, flinging them around the room between frenzied kisses. The way your eyes widened when Bucky got naked made his chest swell. He wanted you to always look at him like that.

“Wow…,” you said as your eyes roamed his physique.

His cock seemed massive as it slapped him on the abs.

“Wow, indeed,” replied Bucky as he took you in hungrily.

Your white lace underwear looked amazing against your skin and against your cunt it served to make him hungry.

He moved toward you again, kissing up your leg until he got to the edge of your panties and nudged his nose there, making you squirm.

“Smell so good, look so good…”

Bucky kissed at the edge of your underwear,

“I just know you’re gonna taste good too..”

He moved to the center of you, placing a kiss over your lace-covered sodden slit. Then, he looked up at you and smirked before he leaned down and licked you over your panties.

“Fuck.”

He pulled your panties to the side and gazed at you there.

Those blue eyes threatened to steal your soul as he gazed at you and confessed, “This is the most gorgeous pussy I’ve ever seen,” and proceeded to lick a rude stripe up the center of you after he tore your panties away.

“Oh my god, James.”

You rolled your hips again and reached down to feel Bucky’s soft hair. He pulled your hips closer and his lips suckled you with more pressure, adding one finger, then two to stretch you out.

“Gotta get you ready for me, my love.”

Your eyes rolled back into your head as you moaned through Bucky thrusting his tongue inside you, then pulling back to focus on your clit.

“I c-can’t.. I–”

“Give me my cum, Frumoasă!”

You locked eyes with him as he buried his face in your cunt and shook against him as you came embarrassingly fast, pulling on his messed up curls.

“So fucking delicious. Taste.”

He took your head in both hands and kissed you deeply, and you responded by sucking your essence off of his tongue. You reached down and started stroking his cock, overjoyed and a little bit scared that your fingers didn’t meet around him as he unclasped your bra.

Bucky whimpered as your thumb came up and stroked his sensitive head, spreading his precum over the wide, mushroom cap.

“You’re so fucking huge, Bucky…”

Bucky pulled you toward him as he reached into his bedside drawer for a condom and a bottle.

“And you’re so wet, Furmoasa. We will make this work. Believe me…”

You continued to stroke and watched him as he brought the wrapper to his teeth and him tearing it open was about the hottest act of sexual protection you’d ever seen. Somehow, your mouth ended up sucking his tip as you watched his eyes roll back into his skull.

“That beautiful mouth…”

Bucky put his hand on your head as you tasted him experimentally, wondering if you’d ever be able to take it all. He seemed to read your mind as he spoke next.

“Don’t worry, I plan on us having a lot of practice with this later, but if you don’t let me put this condom on, I’m gonna cum all over your face, Frumoasă…”

You looked up at him and grinned as his cock jumped in your mouth, but you finally pulled off of him with a pop.

“I need to feel you around me when I cum love. S’all I’ve been dreaming of all week.”

Now his chest was heaving as he rolled the condom on, and he pushed you back onto the bed as his hand went to your core once again. You were even wetter than before and Bucky smiled at you, lining up and kissing you on the forehead as he began to breach your folds.

When he slid inside, your fingernails curled into his shoulders and your eyes grew wide. Bucky stopped, concentrating while his cock pumped, barely inside you.

“There is nothing. In the world. Like being inside your soft, wet, cunt.”

“Fuckkkkk!”

You became even wetter and he slid fully inside you. There, Bucky waited for you to get adjusted around him.

“So fucking tight. And hot. Just like I knew you would be.”

“More, Jamie!”

Smiling, Bucky started moving and you gripped him as he stroked in and out.

“Please don’t stop. Harder!”

Bucky grabbed the headboard and gave you what you wanted. His other hand pulled your hair and his strokes became more intense.

“Wanted to last longer, but I can’t, Baby. So beautiful. Pussy made for me. Cuming soon, but later… O să te fac să vii pe penisul meu iar și iar, Frumoasă. I never make a promise I can’t keep.”

You orgasm whited out your vision and your throat burned as you screamed. Bucky roared, filling the condom with copious amounts of cum. Your cunt was milking him and he hoped it would hold. He stayed sunk into you as long as he could before he had to get up and rid himself of the prophylactic.

He was only in the en suite for a few minutes as you floated in and out of sleep, lust drunk and exhausted.

Bucky climbed back into bed and got both of you situated under the covers, whispering in your ear.

“Stay tonight.”

“Of course. That was the plan, wasn’t it?”

Both of you chuckled, because you knew it was true. Bucky kissed your ear and waited for your breath to even out. When he thought you were asleep, he whispered again.

“I’m going to be a better man for you, Frumoasă.”

“You are exactly who you need to be, James Barnes. Just keep moving forward. Tomorrow is another day to do that.”

After a few more minutes, you spoke again.

“Tomorrow will only be a week that we’ve known each other. Imagine that.”

Bucky buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent.

“Guess I better wait until tomorrow to ask you to marry me.”

You laughed a sleepy laugh.

“You got jokes.”

“You know me, Frumoasă. A professional comedian.”

But somewhere in the dark of Bucky Barnes’ closet, a diamond found some light and sparkled.

——

The next morning is here ;)

Please, please! Let me know!

#ramp-it-up falloween 24 #falloween #kinktober #kinktober 2024 #seb stan #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x black!reader #bucky barnes x plus size reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fluff

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2amriize · 10 days ago

Text

✩࿐࿔ runaway - anton one shot

Anton is a teenager from a wealthy family. He always has to look perfect in front of his parents' friends and business partners, which he despises. That’s why, one night, he decides to run away from an important event his family is hosting, feeling fed up with the pressure it brings. It’s at this moment that he encounters y/n.

pairing: anton x reader idea of anon: nepo baby x troubled child anton x reader fic

Anton is tired of everything. He always has to look perfect in front of others—well-groomed, with good posture, and trying to keep a smile on his face. Everyone in his class knows how wealthy his family is, so all eyes are always on him, watching his every move.

That night, his parents had organized an important event at their house, inviting several professors from what would be Anton’s future university. They had reminded him a thousand times how crucial that dinner would be for his future, but it only made Anton feel more and more overwhelmed, until he finally reached his breaking point.

As he looked at himself in the mirror, wearing the clothes laid out for the dinner, Anton stood in silence for a few seconds. He knew he had everything he needed, that if he wanted something he could buy it, and that he was incredibly privileged to have the family he had. But he couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed a hoodie from his closet and left the house without telling anyone, running far away.

After a few minutes, having put some distance between himself and home, he stopped by the river. He lay down, breathing heavily, watching how beautiful the sky looked that night. He reached into his pocket for his phone but realized he’d left in such a hurry that he’d forgotten it. He sighed quietly, taking in the silence. It had been too long since he’d been alone like this; there was always someone at his house, whether it was his parents or their employees. It felt good to finally be alone.

He closed his eyes for a few moments. He didn’t expect that when he opened them, he’d find you looking at him, surprising him enough to make him sit up quickly.

"What… Why are you looking at me like that? Wait, aren’t you…?"

You and Anton had been in the same class for years, but you’d never really had the chance to talk, or rather, you’d never really been interested. In a way, your social backgrounds were just too different, and he always seemed too conceited and perfect, so you’d never bothered to get to know him. That’s also why you were so surprised to see him there.

"It makes sense you don’t know my name; we’ve never spoken before…" you murmured, turning to look at the river. "What’s ‘famous’ Anton doing here? I’ve never seen you around here before."

Anton looked at you in silence, still surprised to have run into you. When he didn’t answer, you sat down next to him, making him look at you with even more surprise.

"So, what are you doing here? Did you come with your parents or something…?"

"No." His voice cut you off abruptly as he looked at you coolly. "I just…"

Your eyes met for a few seconds. You’d never noticed before, and though there wasn’t much light because it was night, you could tell Anton had an almost flawless face. You noticed his cheeks had flushed a bit, and he looked away after a few moments.

"I ran away from home…" he finished, almost whispering.

"Huh? You? Ran away from home?" You couldn’t help but let out a small laugh until Anton looked at you seriously, wiping the smile from your face. He was serious.

"And what about you? What are you doing out here alone at this hour?"

"Well… Let’s just say I come here when I need to be alone and get away from everyone," you murmured, resting your head on your knees.

"Then I guess we’re in a similar situation," you heard Anton say.

You turned your head a bit to look at him again. Although you’d noticed him in class, since everyone talked about him, this time he didn’t seem like the same person. You’d always seen him looking well, with a smile on his face, focused on his classes, always trying to keep his teachers happy. It always annoyed you to see him like that—so perfect, carefree, with his life all set. But now he seemed different; you’d never seen him so serious, and the fact that he’d run away from home was something you’d never imagined of him.

"So tell me, why aren’t you at home? It’s really cold out here to be just in a hoodie."

"Well, it’s just… My parents organized an important dinner, but I felt… I just couldn’t be there."

"So you ran away from an important dinner… Wow, I never would have expected that from you."

"Right? I even surprised myself," he replied with a small, ironic smile.

You couldn’t help but feel more curious about Anton; the image you’d created of him wasn’t accurate at all. Without either of you noticing, you ended up talking for over two hours. You realized how different he was from what you’d thought and how similar you both were deep down.

"Sometimes I feel like people just see me as some kind of nepo-baby, and I…"

"Wait, Anton, I hate to interrupt, but I think that’s exactly what you are," you said with a laugh.

"I mean, I know. But sometimes I want people to recognize me for my own efforts, not for my parents’ money or influence." Anton looked at you for a few seconds, then turned his gaze back to the river. "Sometimes I just want… I don’t know, to escape… Go somewhere where nobody knows my family or who I am."

You been looking at him all this time while listening at him. He returned your gaze with a small, somewhat awkward smile on his face.

"Then maybe we should run away together, shouldn’t we?"

ᡣ𐭩 masterlist

taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori

@enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123

@sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies

#riize #riize imagines #riize scenarios #riize x reader #riize anton #riize reactions #riize fluff #2amriize #riize one shot #riize one shots #anton x reader #anton

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togrowoldinv · 8 months ago

Text

Time

Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader

When you visit the Bartons with your family, you and Natasha spend some quality time reconnecting

Warnings: Smut! 18+ please! Kissing, cursing, fingering (R receiving), oral (N and R receiving), being needy, some fluff too

Note: Enjoy this hehe

Natasha Masterlist 1, Natasha Masterlist 2, Natasha Masterlist 3, Main Masterlist

“Are we there yet?” Your youngest daughter asks from the backseat of the car.

You’ve been driving for hours to reach the Barton farm. Natasha wants to visit while the kids are on spring break.

“The answer is still no, sweetheart,” Natasha answers patiently.

“We’ll tell you when we get there, Taylor,” Ali, your oldest, jumps in. She’s annoyed by the constant question and her tone doesn’t hide that.

“Be nice,” you remind her.

“Yeah be nice, Al,” your oldest son says. The two oldest kids start arguing, but Nat stops it quickly.

“Hey, none of that,” she says, expertly parenting. “This is a family trip. We will be kind to each other and we will have fun. Understood?”

A few nods follow.

“Understood?” Nat repeats.

That gets her the answers she was waiting for. A chorus of yes ma’am’s resound from the backseat. You turn up the radio and try to make the last hour of the trip enjoyable.

When you pull in the driveway, you look back at Taylor.

“Ask the question again, baby,” you say.

“Are we there yet?”

“We are here,” you reply. “Come on let’s go have some fun.”

You all unload from the car. Nat refused to be a minivan family, so you settled for a three row suv. The Bartons come outside to help.

“Hi Nat,” Laura greets your wife. She hugs her tight. There’s only a handful of people in the world that Natasha trusts as much as she does Laura and Clint.

“And hi y/n,” she greets you as well.

You’re corralling the babies at the moment and can’t hug her, but the warm smile on her face feels like a hug.

“Go see Auntie Laura,” you say to Belle and Taylor, the two littlest girls.

The girls run to her and hug her tight. Ali is catching up with Lila while Ivan, Jack, and Cooper reconnect.

“Well, I guess it’s just us to unload,” Nat comments. She walks around to meet you at the back of the car.

“What’s new?” You joke.

“Hey, while we have a second alone,” Nat begins. She presses you against the back of the car, running her hands over your shoulders and arms down to your hands. “Thank you for coming. And I love you.”

“I love you too, Natasha,” you say, feeling your face flush from how close she is. You can smell her perfume and her fresh hair.

She’s so close to you that it hurts. You want to devour her.

“I’ll show you later just how much I love you, okay?” Her voice is low, sexy as it could be.

Nat leans in and steals a quick but deep kiss, leaving you wanting more.

You pout when she pulls away, but she just laughs. You’re too easy.

Later that day, Clint drives everyone out to the field where he’s got a new pig pin. The kids love chasing the pigs around and playing with them.

Natasha shares a look with you about an hour into the fun that tells you she wants to get back to the house and have her own type of fun with you.

“Clint, we’re going to head back,” she tells him.

“But Mama we’re having fun!” Belle says.

“They can stay out here with us. I know you two are exhausted from the drive in,” Laura says. She winks at you. Maybe you weren’t so slick earlier behind the car.

“Thanks Laur,” Natasha says. “Be good, babies.”

You both kiss each kid before you start walking back to the house with Natasha. You’re hand in hand as you walk through the field. You love seeing Nat like this. So free. So happy.

Your smile must reveal that to her. She stops and turns to you.

“What is it?” Nat asks.

“Hm?”

“You’re looking at me differently,” she replies.

“You’re so beautiful,” you say. “And you’re even more beautiful out here.”

Natasha kisses you softly. She is so in love.

“We better get back to the house before I take you right here in this field,” Nat says.

“What would be so wrong with that?” You say, surprised by your own boldness.

“Oh,” Nat remarks. “Did my wife, my sweet, sweet, innocent wife just say that she wants me to fuck her right here outside where anyone could see us?”

You know she can see the way she’s making you feel. An absolute puddle for her.

“Come on,” Nat says, grabbing your hand again and pulling towards the house again.

By the time you make it to the porch, you’re tripping over each other as you try to make out while walking.

“Upstairs now,” Nat says.

You move as fast you can into your bedroom, shutting the door behind you. Natasha pulls you to her and turns you to back you into the bed. You fall back a little harshly, but Natasha’s lips connecting with yours distracts you from the slight pain.

“Fuck,” you moan into her mouth.

Nat’s strong hands pull your shirt over your head. You barely have time to process it before you’re entirely naked underneath her.

“Are you going to be good for me?” Nat asks.

“Yes,” you say. She takes a nipple in her mouth while her fingers slip between your legs. “Fuck.”

“You’re so fucking hot,” Natasha says.

Her fingers enter you quickly. She swallows your moan with her kiss. You want her to be as undressed as you are. You reach for her shirt hem, but she pushes your hand away.

“Just you right now,” Natasha says. “Okay?”

“Okay,” you say.

Her fingers continue to pump in and out of you at a fast pace. You can feel yourself slipping into a blissful state.

“Natasha,” you mumble. It’s all you can say right now.

“I love you,” Natasha says. “Be a good girl and come for me.”

You let yourself come and come hard for your wife. It’s the best sex you’ve had in months, maybe years.

“That’s right, baby. You’re so good,” Nat says as she works you down. “So good for me.”

Natasha drops a kiss to your forehead and lies beside you. You come back to reality at the feeling of her hand circling yours.

“God, I have missed that,” you say.

Nat chuckles. She has too.

“Shower with me?” She asks.

“Gladly,” you agree.

Nat helps you out of bed and essentially carries you to the bathroom. You start the shower.

“May I?” You ask, gesturing to her clothes. You want to be the one to take them off.

“Please,” Nat says.

You lift her shirt over her head. It never ceases to amaze you how beautiful she is. You unclasp her bra and kiss her shoulder softly.

“Gorgeous,” you whisper, placing your head in the crook of her neck.

You move your hands down her abs and to her waist. Slipping your hands down the jeans she’s wearing, you find her dripping wet for you.

“Getting me off really turns you on, doesn’t it, sweetheart?” You ask her.

“Mhm,” she says. “But I’m in control here.”

Nat takes a step back and pulls her own pants down. She takes your hand and leads you into the shower.

“Why deny yourself, Nat? You know I’d kneel for you right here and now.” You ask her.

Natasha smirks. This was exactly her plan. To have you begging to make her feel good.

“Then kneel,” Natasha says after a long pause. She presses on your shoulders just enough to make you feel the pressure.

Grinning, you drop to your knees. You can’t even remember the last time you were in this position with her. God, you love farm Natasha.

“Right there, detka,” she says. “Yes.”

You hum in pleasure at the taste of her. You’re the luckiest person in the world to be here with her like this.

“Yes! Fuck, y/n, yes!” Natasha groans out. You can’t see her but you know she’s biting her lip. She’s close. It doesn’t take much longer for Natasha to be trembling at the feeling of your mouth all over her.

“I’m coming,” Nat says. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

You help her ride her high and lick her until she’s pushing you away. You stand back up and she kisses you immediately.

Her tongue mingles with yours. The taste of her orgasm on your tongue turns her on even more.

“How long do we have?” She asks you.

“Not long I’d bet,” you say. “It’s almost dinner time.”

“I’ll make it quick,” Nat says.

She pushes you to the edge of the shower and you sit down, spreading your legs for her.

“All for me,” Natasha says. “Look at this.”

“All for you, Nat. Only you,” you reply.

She buries her face between your legs. You can’t help but lift your hips up at the feeling. Natasha holds your hips and helps you move them. Soon enough, you’re riding her face.

“Natasha,” you say over and over like it’s a prayer. “Natasha!”

You hold her head with one hand and keep yourself steady with the other. She eats you out like it’s the only place in the world she wants to be.

You come hard against her tongue. Nat moans successfully and pulls away to let you come down.

She grins at your blissed out face. She loves making you feel so good.

“I love you,” she says softly. It’s a sharp contrast to what you were just doing. “I hope you know how much I love you.”

“I do, baby,” you say, caressing her cheek. “I love you exactly the same.”

You kiss each other gently. Nat helps you stand back up and you actually shower. The water isn’t hot anymore, so you hurry up.

Once you get out, you get dressed and go downstairs. The family is just getting back from being outside. Perfect timing.

“Enjoy your alone time?” Laura asks.

“We sure did,” Natasha replies. She wraps an arm around your waist. You share a soft smile.

For the rest of the trip, you and Natasha soak up every moment with each other and with your family. It’s absolutely an amazing week.

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff comfort #natasha romanoff smut

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cameronspecial · 11 months ago

Text

The Hype Of A Babysitter

Pairing: Zach MacLaren x Babysitter!Reader

Warnings: Swearing

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.0K

Summary: While babysitting the youngest MacLaren, Y/N encounters the older brother she has heard many stories about.

Masterlist

With Zach away at university, the MacLarens needed a new babysitter and that’s where Y/N comes in. She has been babysitting Avery for three months now. She graduated a year earlier, so she decided to take a year off before starting her desired career. Watching Avery is a great way for Y/N to earn more money on top of her savings from working during university. “Ave, what do you want to make for dinner?” Y/N questions when she feels someone else’s presence in the room. She has her head in the fridge, so she can’t see who it is. “How about pizza?” The unfamiliar male voice causes Y/N to go on high alert and jump away from the fridge with her arms ready to attack. “Who are you?” she threatens the tall blue-eyed boy. Upon further examination, her arms drop as she behind to realize who it is. “Oh, you must be Zach. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Y/N,” she introduces herself, holding her hand out for him to take. He takes it in her hand, “Yep, that’s me. I am Avery’s older brother.” She leans back against the kitchen island. “Your parents didn’t tell me that you were coming home,” she states.

He shrugs, moving to the fridge to get the stuff out for pizza, “That’s because they didn’t know. I thought I would surprise them.” She joins him at the counter with a nod of her head. “Right. Well, if you want to spend time with Avery alone, then I can go. Your parents don’t have to pay me for the full night,” she notifies him. His head moves from side to side, “No, it’s okay. Avery has told me so much about you; it would be nice to get to know you.” When Zach entered his kitchen, he didn’t expect to see the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He was quick to piece together that she was the babysitter he had been hearing about because his parent’s car wasn’t in the driveway. He has heard so many stories about her and he is intrigued to learn more about her.

“So pizza is okay?” he confirms, holding up the ingredients he already took out. She nods her head, “As long as we don’t put pineapples on it.” “Nooo pineapples. Noted. So I’m guessing not a Hawaiian pizza fan,” he guesses. Y/N can’t respond because Avery comes running to the room from the bathroom, tackling her brother in a hug. “You’re home!” she exclaims. He chuckles at his sister’s hold, “I am. I was missing you guys, so I thought I’d come home for the weekend.” Y/N’s heart flutters at how cute it is that Zach is staying the weekend because he missed his family. Sure, his campus isn’t very far, but he has been living on campus since Freshman year and he can sometimes get too busy to visit. “Yay!” Avery spots the containers out on the counter and grins. “Are we making pizza?” Zach’s head flicks up and down, “Yep. Just no pineapples. Miss. Y/N over here doesn’t like them.” “I’m fine with that,” Avery shrugs. Zach starts organizing the different ingredients, ordering Avery to cut up the toppings while Y/N helps him with the dough. “Okay, now add the water,” he instructs. She takes the water and dumps it into the bowl quickly, causing the water to splash up the bowl and over the edge. It falls onto Zach’s shirt and soaks the bottom of it.

“Shit, I am so sorry,” she apologizes, grabbing a towel to help him dry off. “That’s a bad word,” Avery states. Y/N doesn't seem to process where the hem of his shirt falls. She starts patting the area to dry it off but slows down once she realizes she is touching his crotch. A blush appears on Zach's cheeks as he looks down as her hands pause over the area. She retracts her hands to her chest and her hair falls in front of her face as she bows her head. “I’m sorry,” she whispers again, handing him back the towel. He shakes his head, “It’s okay. It was an accident.” “Yeah, but I also should’ve warned you that I am horrible at cooking,” she confesses with a sheepish look. He places the towel on the counter, “Well, I’m determined to change that.”

About an hour later, the trio are sitting with their pizzas in hand as they watch a movie on the couch. The end credits start to roll and they turn toward Avery to find her asleep. Y/N sets her plate and Avery’s on the coffee table, gently nudging the girl awake. “Come on, Ave. Let’s get you to bed,” Y/N suggests. She helps the young girl off the couch and leads her upstairs. “I’ll get started on cleaning,” Zach announces to the girls heading upstairs. Y/N waits outside of Avery’s bedroom while she brushes her teeth and gets changed. Avery opens the door to let Y/N in and yells downstairs to Zach, “Can you come check my bed for monsters, please?” They can hear his footsteps as he jogs up the stairs. He enters the room with a grin on his face. Y/N’s heart flutters at how serious he takes his inspection and she giggles when he declares the only monster in the room is currently lying in bed in pyjamas. Y/N and Zach say goodnight to Avery and head to the kitchen to clean up. Zach already got the counters clean, so the only thing they need to do is the dishes.

The faucet runs as he runs the plate underneath the stream. He turns it off when he holds the plate out for her to dry. The towel in her hand swings and she accidentally whips Zach’s bicep with it. He pauses what he is doing, turning to look at her with furrowed brows. She giggles under his gaze and he grabs the other towel hanging from the oven door. He twists the fabric into a rope, gently tapping her bicep. She jumps back with a vindictive look and reciprocates the action. “Oh, this means war,” he declares, chasing after her with his weapon. The room is filled with laughter as they run around the island, trying to slap each other. Eventually, he catches her in his arms and pulls her back against his chest. One hand raises with the towel. She holds her hands up, “Cease fire. I call a truce. You win.” He places her back onto the floor with a grin. They stare at each other for a few seconds with a dumb look on their faces before going back to the dishes. Once they finish, she heads over to her bags and starts packing her stuff. “I guess I should probably go since Avery is asleep,” she states, swinging her backpack strap over one shoulder. His hand reaches out to stop her, “Don’t go. Why don’t we play Battletoads for a little bit?”

She thinks about it. Staying longer can’t hurt her. She puts her bag back on the floor with a nod. They both settle on the couch with their own controllers. “Prepared to be demolished because Avery and I play this all the time,” Y/N threatens. Zach chuckles, “Well, you are out of luck because who do you think got Avery into the game?” He glances at her with a smile.

“No. No. No,” Y/N groans as Zach wins the round again. “Can we watch a movie or something? My hands are getting tired.” Zach’s face is painted with victory, “You are just saying that because you keep losing. But I will agree to watch a movie if it means I can keep my winning streak.” They settle on some random movie, except halfway through, they realize it is not keeping their attention. “So you play soccer?” she thinks out loud, feeling comfortable to rest her head against his shoulder. She can feel his head move. “Yeah, it’s all I’ve ever really had,” he admits. “And you are thinking about being a journalist.” “Yeah, I have a degree in journalism and I’ve applied to a few positions at some news stations, so I’m just waiting for those,” she reveals.

“That’s really cool. Why journalism?”

“I’ve always enjoyed writing, but I am terrible at bringing a fictional story to life. Reporting the news felt like a way I could tell other people’s stories and still get to use my writing skills.”

“I think it’s amazing that you want to tell other people’s stories. You are fighting for the underdog.”

“Exactly, how about you? Why soccer?”

“My parents used to say that I didn’t take my first steps, I took my first run. They said I was chasing after the ball so they got the idea to put me in soccer as soon as they could and I loved it. Learning how to control my body so the ball goes where I want. Working with a te-”

He stops at the sound of the tiny snores emitting from her lips. He isn’t offended that she fell asleep. It’s almost one and he knows taking care of Avery can be a handful. He considers waking her up so she can go home, but he likes the heat her body contact provides. Soon enough, he finds his own eyes begin to droop and his head falls on hers as he falls asleep.

———

The front door closing jerks the two awake. Y/N rubs her eyes to see that Connie and Matt have returned. “Sorry, we are a little later than we said Y/N,” Matt says, pulling out his wallet to get her payment out. Y/N shakes her head, “No problem, I had a little backup tonight.” Confusion flashes across their faces until they notice the groggy Zach on the couch. “Zach, you’re here?” Connie startles, going to give her son a hug. He laughs, “Yeah, I thought I would spend the weekend.” He falls into conversation with his parents whilst she gets her stuff ready to go. “Well, I’m going to go for real this time. Thank you for the money and call me when you need me again,” she advertises, heading toward the door. Zach darts up, “Hold on, let me walk you to your car.” He catches up to her and they make their way outside in silence. She gets into the car, leaving the driver’s side door open to say goodbye to him. “Thank you for walking me out. It was really nice meeting you,” she bids au dieu. He hangs off of the door, “It was nice meeting you too. Can I tell you a secret though?”

She looks up at him with curiosity and motions for him to continue. He leans closer so his mouth ghosts her ear, “I came back home to meet you. Avery always had the best stories about you and I just had to see for myself if you lived up to the hype. I’m glad that you did.” Heat rushes to her cheeks and she searches her bag for her phone. “I’m glad I did too, but I’m not too sure if you live up to yours. So I think I should give you a second chance. Maybe by going out on a date?” she offers, holding her phone out for him to put his number. He takes it and starts typing, “Of course, I wouldn’t want you to spread the news that I’m not hypeworthy, Miss. Journalist. You could seriously damage my reputation.”

“Well, then you better make it one hell of a date.”

“Oh, I’m planning on it.”

He gives her back her phone and she puts it away. “See you later,” she mumbles. He can see the look in her eyes and decode the message behind it. He leans down to give her a peck on the lips. “See you later. Drive safe,” he says before closing the door and waving her off home. He is really glad he came home to meet the babysitter because he has a feeling she is going to be the love of his life.

Taglist: @winterrrnight @loves0phelia @thelomlisrafecameron @nonbullshit-toleratingkindagirl

#the other zoey #zach maclaren #zach maclaren x reader #zach maclaren x y/n #zach maclaren fluff #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #drew starkey fanfiction #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey x y/n #drew starkey x you #drew starkey x female reader #drew starkey fic #drew starkey fluff

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bellarkeselection · 11 months ago

Text

Walter to the Rescue

Gif not mine it belongs to @alphinias

After a ride in the woods late at night you wind up getting lost and to the readers surprise Cole actually answers your call.

Tag list - @cognacdelights

Kicking my horse in the belly to go faster with the wind running through my hair that I left completely loose. This wasn’t the first time I had taken one of the Walter family's horses to clear my head from a day of high school. It all could be a lot especially when everyone in this town knows you have a close family relationship with the Walter kids. Because it only results in half the school thinking you're sleeping with some of them. “Woah boy. Easy now.”

My horse begins making some noise in protest hearing some thunder off in the distance. I knew that horses could get spooked easy but I wasn't too worried about it. Alex had taught me how to keep your cool on them. Looking around at the treeline the leaves have already begun changing colors making it really beautiful. “Ah!” I screamed suddenly when lighting hit the ground in front of me and that caused my horse to whine and throw me off its back.

“Ow! No wait…” I called out to my horse but he was already far off into the treeline. Running a hand through my hair I sighed seeing that the sky was getting darker meaning there was a storm coming. Digging inside my jacket pocket I drew out my phone dialing the house phone getting no answer. “Seriously a house full of that many people and nobody hears the phone!”

I guess I couldn't blame them for not answering. That house is always loud and crazy no matter what time of day. Plus now that Jackie from New York had moved in things got more complicated. Tapping my knees in thought I tried to decide who would answer my call. Alex was busy with Jackie, Parker was probably outside playing with Benny. Will was working tonight selling houses. Jordan, Nathan, Lee, Isaac and Danny didn't drive. So that left me in the hands of the most popular guy in town who was known for hooking up with multiple girls Cole. Lifting my head up to the sky I felt heavy rain coming down where I scrambled to my feet but collapsed when I felt a sharp pain in my left ankle. “Shit!...guess he's my only choice now.”

It wasn't that I hated the guy. I just hated the reputation he had made for himself. The rain came pouring down where I grunted, forcing myself to stand up. I hopped over to the treeline to get some coverage from the storm. The wind was picking up, shaking everything so I dialed his number. “Pick up, pick up.”

“What's going on, Y/n?” His voice came through the phone.

“Don't make fun of me but I'm lost.” I stated.

He chuckled at me. “How did little woodlen girl get lost?”

“Cole, I'm not in the mood for teasing right now.” I spat back.

The former star football player still was laughing on the other end. “I’m sorry I just can’t believe girl who hunts with her father managed to get lost on our property. I mean I never thought I’d see the day from someone like you.”

“Cole, I am currently stuck out in a storm and called you for help so can you take this seriously please!” I raised my voice pulling the hood of my jacket over my head shivering when the wind blew harshly against me.

Finally to my surprise he came to his senses responding back to me. “Alright I’ll come get you.” He hung up the call and I was forced to listen and watch the storm get worse for an hour or so.

Burying my face into my knees my body was shaking from the cold and the fact that my clothes were soaked head to toe. I heard a vehicle engine getting closer in my direction and it pulled to a stop showing me it was Cole’s truck he was usually working on in the barn. The drivers door flung opened and quickly shut where I saw someone running towards me with a jacket in their hands. “Cole?”

“One knight in shining armor, woodland girl.” He declared dropping down on a knee, draping the jacket over my shoulders.

I glared up into his green eyes seeing his blonde hair sticking to his forehead. “Can you please call me by my actual name for once?”

“Maybe someday. Come on let's get out of the cold before we both get frost bite.” He offered me his hands tugging me to stand.

“Argh!” I winced, dropping down on my other knee after my injured ankle.

Cole was quick on his reflectances sweeping me up bridal style into his muscular arms. “Looks like you needed a better horse riding teacher than Alex huh?”

“Let’s not talk about it right now.” I said feeling embarrassed enough as is. He helped me into the passenger seat and we drove home. He carried me upstairs and sat me down on the edge of his bed in his bedroom.

He searched around in the closet grabbing himself a change of clothes. Then he tossed me one of his blue tea shirts and some shorts. “Here I can help you if you need it.”

“Turn around first.” I instructed him, blushing since I haven't even kissed anyone before. He did as told giving me the chance to slip my wet shirt for his and shrugging off my jeans until I thought about getting the shorts on. I pulled them up as much as I could before getting his attention. “Cole, I can’t get them up without standing on my foot.”

He looks over his shoulder coming back to me moving his hands down to the left side telling me. “Lift your foot for me.” I lifted my foot and he shrugged it up then helping me sit back down on the bed so I could do the same to my right leg without his assistance.

“Thanks, Cole.” I whispered where he stands in front of me letting silence fill the room. I avoided his gaze, not sure of what to say until I shut my eyes to ask the question. “So did you have to skip a hookup with Erin to come rescue me?”

He tilted his head to the side. “Why would you care if I did. You have a crush on me or something, woodland girl?”

“Y/n, you know my name so use it.” I corrected him. “And even if I did, you don't have relationships. I wouldn't want to be another girl tricked by The Cole Effect.”

He raised a brow at my words. “Oh yeah. What makes you think you'd just be another girl I hook up with?”

“Like I said everyone at school knows you don't do real boyfriend girlfriend relationships. You do hook ups and my mother saw it before I did but I refuse to let my feelings for you lead me down that path since you can't possibly feel the same way about me as I do you.” I accidentally admitted without realizing it to him.

Cole stared blankly at me. “You don't think I feel the same?”

“If you did, you have a funny way of showing it.” Shrugging my shoulders I lowered my gaze down from his green orbs.

Cole simply replied then closed the gap between us. “Is this enough of an effort for ya.” He cupped my face in his hands, crashing his lips down onto mine.

I gasped in shock and awe that the famous Cole Walter was kissing me. He was kissing me, the girl that wasn’t popular like he was. The girl that was just a friend of the family but still no one special. “Cole…I’ve never….never done anything like this.” I mumbled tugging on his blonde locks deepening the kiss. He moaned gently pushing me down onto the mattress and he climbed over top of me never breaking the heated kiss until we needed air.

“I’m not doing this to just have a hook up with you, Y/n. I’m not good with commitment but I do actually care about you.” He breathed out holding himself up by his hands on either side of me, blonde hair falling in front of his eyes and his eyes were focused on me.

Raising one hand up I tangled my fingers into his hair asking the question that was eating away at me now. “So what does that make us now, Cole Walter?”

“We can take this slow and figure it out as we go along, Y/n Woodland Girl L/n.” He smiled leaning down kissing me gently this time. I giggled wrapping my arms around his neck bringing him closer to me enjoying the kisses we shared.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#cole x reader #cole walter #cole walter x reader #noah lalonde #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #netflix #jackie howard #alex walter #friends to lovers #lost in the woods #horse ranch #colewalteredit #Spotify

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pucksandpower · 1 year ago

Text

The Center Cannot Hold

Charles Leclerc x wife!Reader

Summary: one cruel diagnosis sends your hopes and dreams crashing down in painful shards around you

Warnings: cancer, medical procedures, infertility, religion, recommendation to terminate pregnancy

The sun sneaks through slits in the blinds, casting patches of warmth on your shared bed. You’re nestled against Charles’ chest, his heartbeat a gentle hum beneath your ear.

“Morning,” he murmurs, voice thick with sleep.

You smile, shifting around to meet his gaze. “It’s beautiful outside.”

Charles brushes a stray hair behind your ear. “Every day with you is beautiful.”

There’s a silent pause as the two of just stare at each other. You both know there is more to this morning than mere pleasantries. You think of the tiny stick in the bathroom, far more significant than its small size would have you believe.

“Should we?” You ask hesitantly.

He nods, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. “Together.”

You both rise hand in hand, making the short walk to the bathroom. Your hands tremble as you reach for the plastic stick on the granite counter.

With a deep breath, you pick it up.

Two lines.

Positive.

Tears prick your eyes and you turn to Charles. “Look,” your voice barely a whisper.

He chokes on air. “Is this ... are we really”

“We did it,” you confirm, tears streaming freely.

Charles’ eyes shimmer with unshed tears of his own. He pulls you into his arms, burying his face in your hair. “We’re going to be parents.”

You pull back slightly, placing a hand on your stomach. “Our baby.”

He nods, laughing softly through his tears. “Our little miracle.”

Holding the test between you both, you share a look of wonder. It feels like the universe has just shifted and realigned in the most beautiful way.

***

The waiting room is a sea of neutral tones and the soft murmurs of hushed conversations. You sit, nervously tapping your fingers on your knee, while Charles wraps an arm around your shoulders in an attempt to calm you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear, “You alright?”

You give him a small, tense smile. “Just a bit nervous. First-time jitters, I guess.”

Charles gives your hand a reassuring squeeze. “Everything will be fine. It’s just a routine check-up.”

Before you can respond, a soft voice calls out, “Mrs. Leclerc?”

You both rise and follow the nurse as she leads you into a cozy exam room, pastel walls adorned with photos of smiling babies and happy families.

After a series of routine checks and questions, the mood remains light. However, when the doctor enters, a middle-aged woman with a kind face, there’s a subtle shift in the air, a feeling that’s hard to pin down.

“First-time parents?” She asks with a warm smile, trying to put you at ease.

Charles nods, beaming with pride. “Yes and we’re over the moon about it.”

She returns the smile but then her expression becomes more clinical, professional, as she reviews the ultrasound. The room is filled with the sound of the machine and your quiet exhalations.

Minutes stretch on, the silence growing more pronounced. The doctor’s brows furrow, her lips pressed into a thin line.

Charles, sensing the change, grips your hand tighter. “Is everything alright?”

She hesitates for a moment before turning to face you both. “Your baby seems healthy but there’s something concerning about your cervix. I would like to run a few more tests to be sure.”

Your heart plummets, the room suddenly feeling colder. “What ... what do you mean?”

She chooses her words carefully, “There is a chance that it is just a benign irregularity but we need to be certain.”

Tests turn into more tests and the hours seem to blur. Charles is fidgeting anxious mess beside you but his thumb never stops stroking your hand.

Finally, the doctor returns, the weight of the world seemingly on her shoulders. “I won’t sugarcoat it,” she begins heavily. “The results point to cervical cancer.”

Silence deafens the room. The world around you blurs and you feel Charles’ arms wrap around you, holding you as if you might shatter.

“No,” Charles whispers, his voice breaking. “There must be a mistake.”

The doctor looks at you with sympathy. “I wish there was. We caught it early but it’s aggressive. My recommendation would be to terminate the pregnancy and begin treatment immediately.”

Your mind races, heartbreak and disbelief clashing within. “Terminate? But our baby ...”

She gently cuts you off. “It’s the best chance to save your life.”

Your vision blurs, the reality of her words crashing over you like a tidal wave. The room, with its softly painted walls and happy baby pictures, suddenly feels like a cruel mockery.

Charles eyes are clouded over with tears and despair. “Please,” he whispers, holding your face between his trembling hands. “I can’t lose you.”

You choke back a sob, the enormity of the situation making it hard to breathe. “But our baby, Charles. Our little miracle.”

He hugs you close, his voice muffled as he buries his face your hair. “I know. But I need you. We promised each other forever, remember?”

You clutch at him, memories of shared dreams and whispered promises flooding back. The villa by the sea that you would fill with warmth and laughter, growing old together, watching sunsets side by side.

“I can’t imagine a life without you,” he continues, voice breaking. “Not a single day.”

The pain in his words cuts deep, each syllable a raw wound. You hide your face in his chest, tears soaking his shirt.

“We wanted this baby so much,” you whisper brokenly.

“I know,” Charles chokes out. “But I need you with me. I can’t be alone. I can’t live without you.”

***

The soft glow of a lamp casts long shadows, making the room feel both intimate and immense. You sit on the couch, a soft blanket draped around your shoulders, staring blankly at the tea that has long gone cold in your mug.

Charles sits opposite you, unmoving. He clears his throat, searching for words, “I’ve been thinking ... about what the doctor said.”

You look up, meeting his gaze, a storm brewing within it. “So have I.”

Charles closes his eyes, struggling with his emotions. “I can’t bear the thought of a world without you in it. I would be content, you know? To grow old, just the two of us, if it means I spend every day of my life with you by my side.”

Your heart aches, tears pricking your eyes. “Charles, our baby ...”

He cuts you off, voice filled with raw emotion. “I know. But you’re my world. I can’t lose you. I won’t lose you.”

A heavy silence settles between you two, the weight of unsaid words pressing down.

You take a deep breath, “I want this baby. I want our baby. But I also want to grow old with you, to be there for every race, for every win and every loss, on and off the track.”

He reaches across, taking your hand in his, fingers interlocking. “We’ve faced so much together. But this is tearing me apart. I just want you safe.”

You squeeze his hand, searching his eyes. “If I choose the baby, will you ... will you resent me? Will you resent them? If I choose the baby, and ... leave you alone?”

He looks away, the pain of thinking about it clear on his face, “Never. I would be lost. Completely and utterly lost. But I’ll never hold it against you. Or them. I’ll cherish our child but my heart ... my heart would be forever broken.”

You both sit in silence, lost in your thoughts.

“I’ve made up my mind.”

Charles looks at you intently, waiting.

“I’m going to keep the baby.”

He shuts his eyes tightly but a tear manages to slip through the crack and down his face. “I will support whatever decision you make. I just ... I love you so much.”

You move closer, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you too. We’ll face this together, no matter what.”

As you lay down beside Charles, the comfort of the familiar sheets beneath you, he wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. You can feel the tension in his body, the struggle to be the rock, to be strong.

In the quiet darkness, you feel more than hear his silent sobs, the tremors that shake his frame. You reach out, intertwining your fingers with his, offering the only comfort you can as the world falls apart around you.

***

“Please, mon amour, just eat something,” Charles implores, voice laced with worry as he holds out a plate of your favorite pasta.

The aroma drifts to you, making your stomach churn, but you force a weak smile. “I’ll try.”

It’s been months since that fateful doctor’s appointment. The specter of cancer looms over your pregnancy like a dark cloud, casting shadows on the joy you should be feeling.

Days blur into one another. Doctor visits are now your routine. Charles, who once sped around racetracks with fearless abandon, now navigates the hospital corridors with a silent determination.

There are days when weakness consumes you, moments when you can’t summon the strength to get out of bed. Charles has become your lifeline, helping you dress, making sure you eat, and even carrying you when your legs give out.

“I can’t do this,” you whisper to him one night, tears tracing down your cheeks. “I’m not strong enough.”

He cradles your face, his own eyes brimming with tears he refuses to shed. “You are the strongest person I know. You’re carrying our baby. That’s the bravest thing anyone can do.”

The pain is relentless, a constant companion. Each doctor’s visit brings more bad news. The cancer is spreading and your body is weakening. Yet, you cling to hope, to the belief that your love for each other can conquer anything.

One evening, you're curled up on the couch, aching and exhausted. Charles, sitting beside you, traces a finger along your cheek, his touch gentle as he tries to be strong for both of you.

“You’re my world,” he murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I hate seeing you like this but I would rather be with you in this darkness than without you in the light.”

Tears well up in your eyes as you reach for his hand. “We’ll get through this together. Our love is stronger than anything. Even cancer.”

But you’re not sure how much you can believe that anymore.

***

“You’re playing with fire,” your sister blurts out the moment she steps into your living room. Her eyes are red, mascara messily smudged around them.

Charles’ jaw clenches but before he can retort, your father interjects, his voice roughened by age and worry, “She means you’re risking too much. We all see it.”

You sink further into the couch under the weight of their stares. “I know what I’m doing.”

“Do you really?” Your mother questions wetly. “Every time we see you, you’re paler, weaker. Is it worth it?”

Charles steps forward, taking your hand. “It’s her choice. And I’ll stand by her through everything.”

Your best friend sighs deeply. “We’re just scared for you. We don’t want to lose you.”

The room becomes a whirlwind of opinions, tears, and pleas. They all mean well, you know that, but the their concerns feel suffocating.

The tension escalates, words sharper than intended, when suddenly Charles explodes, “That’s enough! It’s her decision and it’s not up for you to debate.”

The room falls silent.

Your sister speaks up, “We just love you, that’s all.”

Charles collapses onto the couch beside you, burying his face in his hands. “And you think I don’t? I don’t want to be a widower. A single father looking at our child and seeing only the love we lost,” he admits in a hushed tone, his voice breaking. “It’s the only thing I see whenever I close my eyes. It plagues my dreams. But that love means supporting Y/N even if seeing what she’s going through breaks my heart.”

You pull him close. “I know. But I need to hold onto hope. To believe we can have it all. Our baby and a lifetime together.”

He gazes deep into your eyes. “I love you. More than words can say. I just want you with me, always.”

Tears flow freely down your cheeks as you reach for his hand. “I know you’re scared. I am too. But I believe in us, in our love. And I can’t bear to let go of our baby.”

He wraps you in a hug and you can feel his body trembling. “I don’t want to lose you but I can’t stand to see you suffer like this either.”

***

“Do you think they’ll have your eyes?” Charles murmurs, his hand gently resting on your swollen belly, fingers tracing small circles.

You smile weakly, feeling the flutter of tiny kicks in response. “Or your fearless spirit?”

He chuckles softly, leaning down to press a gentle kiss to your baby bump. “Hey there, little racer. Promise me you’ll take after your mother more.”

Despite the weariness that constantly lingers, these quiet moments fill your heart with warmth.

“Imagine,” you whisper one evening, “our little one’s first day of school or their first race if they decide to follow in their papa’s footsteps.”

Charles grins, “And inheriting their maman’s stubborn streak will surely mean they’ll be a world champion.”

As your body grows heavier with the weight of the pregnancy and growth of the cancer, your time spent outside the confines of your bed becomes increasingly limited. The facade Charles wears for your benefit becomes increasingly brittle. He’s your rock, never letting his worries show in front of you, but you still see the toll it’s taking on him.

One evening, after ensuring you’re comfortably tucked in, Charles kisses your forehead softly and whispers, “Rest, mon amour. I’ll be right here.”

Drifting into a fitful sleep, you wake to the muffled sound of heart-wrenching sobs. Curiosity pulls you from the warm cocoon of your bed with the last of your strength, guiding you towards the soft light spilling from the slightly ajar bathroom door.

Listening closer, you can hear Charles’ broken voice, “I can’t ... I can’t lose her. Not like this.”

You press your hand to your mouth, tears spilling down your cheeks as you realize he’s on a call, probably with one of his brothers.

“You don’t understand,” Charles continues, his voice trembling with emotion. Every time I look at her, I see our future slipping away. Our dreams, our plans ... everything is fading into ashes.”

There’s a pause, punctuated with stifled sobs. “I have to be strong for her but it’s tearing me apart. Every smile I wear, every reassurance I give, it all feels like a lie because I am so freaking scared.”

Your heart aches, hearing the raw pain in his voice, knowing all this time he’s been shielding you from his own agony.

Silently, you retreat, not wanting him to know you’ve overheard. Slipping back into bed, you grapple with the weight of the shared pain, the collective heartache that has become your reality.

Minutes later, Charles returns to the bedroom. His eyes red-rimmed but determined. He sends a shaky smile your way, “How’s my brave girl?”

You reach out, trying to pull him against your chest with tired arms. “Let’s be brave together.”

He nods, choking back fresh tears. “Together. No matter what.”

***

The old church stands quietly in Maranello, its tall steeple pointing skyward, as if reaching out to the heavens. Inside, the soft glow of candles flickers as the side door swings open. Don Pietro, an aging priest with kind eyes lined with crow’s feet, is startled by the sudden entrance.

“Charles?” His voice, filled with surprise, echoes softly in the hushed space.

Charles’ normally confident stride is replaced with hesitation. “Don Pietro,” he tries to muster a smile but fails. “I ... I didn’t know where else to go.”

The priest approaches, eyes filled with concern. “I’ve been worried. When Ferrari announced you were taking a season off, I prayed for you.”

Charles chuckles bitterly, “Prayers. Never thought I would be seeking those.”

Don Pietro studies him for a moment. “Pain has a way of making us turn to the unexpected.”

Charles’ face contorts in anguish. “I’ve always called myself an atheist. After Jules ... after my father ... I felt abandoned by any god that might exist. But now, she’s ... she’s everything to me and I’m powerless to stop losing her.”

The priest’s voice is soft when he replies, “Life may test us in ways we can’t comprehend. But God never gives us more than we can bear.”

Charles’ laugh is hollow, devoid of mirth. “Bear? I can’t bear the thought of a world without her. Tell me, how does a loving god allow such pain?”

Don Pietro sighs, the weight of many years shining through. “I won’t pretend to know all the answers but sometimes faith is all we have.”

“I feel like I’m being punished, like I’m cursed. Why else would I lose the people I love most?” Charles looks at the ground, his shoulders slumped in defeat as he takes a shuddering breath. “I would give anything ... anything to save her. I have thought to visit mosques, synagogues, temples ... anywhere some higher power might listen to my pleas. I’m desperate, Don Pietro.”

The priest speaks gently, “Turning to God in times of despair is not weakness. It’s human. But faith is not about bargaining, it’s about having trust.”

A tear rolls down Charles’ cheek. “I’m so scared. Every night, I watch her sleep, wondering if it will be our last night together. I would gladly give up everything else if it means she stays with me.”

The priest reaches out, placing a comforting hand on Charles’ shoulder. “Then let’s pray, my son. Let us pray together.”

The tears turn to a steady stream rolling down Charles’ cheeks as he falls to his knees. “Please ... I’ll do anything. Just don’t take her away.”

Don Pietro kneels beside him. “God hears you, Charles. And He knows your pain.”

They stay united in prayer. Two souls reaching out to the heavens and begging for a miracle.

***

“It’s too early,” you gasp, clutching the bed sheets as another contraction grips you.

Charles is by your side, panic evident in his eyes even as he tries to keep you calm. “Breathe, love. Just breathe. We’ll get through this.”

But the pain is relentless, each contraction more intense than the last. The hospital room is a blur of activity, doctors and nurses rushing around, preparing for the premature delivery.

“You need to stay strong,” one of the nurses urges, trying to guide you through the pain.

Charles, pale and shaking, holds your hand so tightly it’s almost painful. “Stay with me,” he pleads, his voice breaking. “You and our baby, both of you, stay with me. Please.”

The labor is grueling, each passing minute a test of your willpower and strength. Charles is crumbling into pieces beside you, every ounce of his pain clearly written across his face.

“I can’t lose you,” he whispers, leaning close. “Not now, not ever.”

But the world around you is fading, the pain becoming too much to bear. “I love you so much. In this life and the next,” you choke out with the last of your strength as your vision tunnels.

Suddenly, alarms blare. The room becomes a whirlwind of organized chaos. “We’re losing her!” A doctor shouts.

Charles is pushed aside as they work to save you. “No! Please, no!” He screams in agony.

You’re dimly aware of being rushed into another room, doctors shouting orders and starting emergency procedures.

Then, everything goes black.

Charles is left in the corridor. A broken man, waiting for news, praying for a miracle. Hours feel like days, each passing second an eternity.

Finally, a doctor emerges, his scrubs covered in spots of dark blood. “The baby is fine,” he begins, “But your wife ... we had to put her in a coma. The cancer is advanced. We’ll do everything we can but she’s not out of the woods.”

Charles sinks to the floor, tears streaming down his face. “Please, just save her. Please.”

***

“It’s a girl,” a nurse approaches Charles with a small bundle wrapped in a soft pink blanket.

Charles, tears still fresh on his face, looks up, momentarily stunned. “A ... a girl?”

The nurse nods, offering the tiny newborn to him. “Would you like to hold her?”

He hesitates, then slowly reaches out, cradling his daughter in his arms. Her small face, a canvas of peace among the chaos, is a stark contrast to the turmoil surrounding them.

“She’s beautiful,” he whispers, tears starting anew. “Just like her mother.”

The nurse smiles gently. “Have you thought of a name?”

Charles nods, “Juliette. After my godfather.”

Gently rocking the infant, he leans down, pressing a tender kiss on her forehead. “Hey, Juliette,” he murmurs. “I’m your papa. Your maman and I have waited so long for you. We love you so much.”

Juliette stirs, her tiny fingers curling around one of Charles’ own.

“I promise,” Charles voice breaks, “to protect you. I will be here for you, always.”

A doctor approaches, clearing his throat. “Mr. Leclerc, your wife’s condition is critical. But she’s a fighter and she has a lot to fight for.”

Charles nods, looking down at Juliette. “She does. We both do.”

Gently rocking your daughter, he loses himself in the rhythm of her soft breaths and the warmth of her tiny body against his chest. It’s an odd feeling — holding the fresh promise of life in his arms while the love of his life hangs in the balance.

***

“We’ve run all possible tests,” the oncologist begins. Charles, clutching a sleeping Juliette to his chest, waits with bated breath. “The cancer has progressed aggressively. To give her a fighting chance, we need to perform a hysterectomy.”

The room grows cold as the gravity of the doctor’s words sinks in. Charles’ voice trembles, “But that means ...”

The doctor nods, voice as gentle as the situation allows. “She won’t be able to bear children again.”

Silence stretches as the weight of the world seems to fall on Charles’ shoulders. He gazes down at Juliette, the embodiment of the dreams and hopes you both had.

“We had plans,” Charles whispers, more to himself. “We wanted more children, a big family.”

The doctor waits. “I understand how hard this is. But without the procedure, her chances ...”

“I know,” Charles cuts him off, voice breaking. “Do it. Do whatever it takes to save her.”

The doctor nods, squeezing Charles’ shoulder in a gesture of comfort. “We’ll do our best.”

As preparations for the surgery commence, Charles sits in the dimly lit waiting area, holding Juliette close. The baby, as if sensing the heavy atmosphere, remains unusually quiet.

“It’s not fair,” Charles’ lips form words meant for the void. “She’s sacrificed so much already. She deserves a world filled with joy and laughter.”

From across the room, a nurse, having overheard, speaks up, “Life has its cruel twists but the love you both share … that’s rare. Hold onto that.”

Charles nods, taking solace in the nurse’s words. Time seems to lose all meaning, each tick of the clock amplifying the uncertainty and fear.

Finally, a surgeon approaches, fatigue evident in her posture even as her face remains carefully professional. “The procedure went as well as could be expected. Your wife is stable for now.”

Relief floods Charles so rapidly that he has to stop himself from falling to the ground as he murmurs a heartfelt, “Thank you.”

But as he sits by your bedside, watching the steady rise and fall of your chest, the reality of what you had lost sets in. The dreams of a large family, shared laughter, and memories, all stolen by this cruel twist of fate.

***

The world around you is a haze of light and shadow, the sounds a distant echo. Your eyes flutter open and for a moment you’re lost, disoriented, and overwhelmed. Then, you see Charles, his face etched with relief and sorrow, tears glistening in his eyes.

“Welcome back,” he whispers, his voice cracking with emotion. “We’ve missed you so much.”

You try to speak but your throat is too parched to make a sound. Charles offers you a sip of water, his hands trembling as he helps you drink.

“What happened?” You finally manage to croak, your eyes darting around the unfamiliar room.

Charles takes a deep breath, his gaze never leaving yours. “The cancer ... it had advanced. They had to perform a hysterectomy to save you.”

The word hangs in the air, heavy and final. Your abdomen feels sore and you reach down, fingers tracing the bandages. Panic seizes you and the tears pour down without permission as the reality of what’s been taken from you crashes down.

“It’s gone,” you sob. “Our dreams ... our family.”

Charles leans in, tears mingling with yours. “Shh, mon amour. None of this is your fault. We’ll find another way, another path to happiness. We have Juliette and we have each other.”

But the weight of guilt is crushing. “We dreamed of a big family,” you cry, the depth of your loss piercing. “And I’ve taken that away from us.”

He brushes your tears away. “You have nothing to be sorry for. This is not your fault. We’ll make new dreams together, I promise.”

“I just wanted to give you everything,” the grief wracks your body.

“You already have,” Charles insists. “You’ve given me love, you’ve given me our little girl … our Juliette. That’s more than I could ever ask for.”

With great effort, you lift your arms, weak from the ordeal. Charles, understanding your unspoken desire, carefully places Juliette against your chest. You’re too weak to hold her on your own but together, you and Charles support her tiny form.

“Hello, Juliette," you whisper, tears of joy mingling with your earlier tears of grief.

She blinks up at you, her eyes wide and curious. You’ve never felt anything like what fills your heart as you look at the perfect human you both created, the embodiment of love and resilience.

“I love you both so much,” you whisper, heart swelling with a dizzying mix of joy and sorrow.

Charles, his own eyes filled with tears, leans down and kisses both you and Juliette gently. “We have each other and right now that’s all that matters.”

***

“I never imagined it would be like this,” your voice wavers as you lie propped up by pillows in the dimly lit bedroom.

Charles, his fingers intertwined with yours, meets your gaze. “Neither did I.”

The weight of all that’s transpired hangs heavily in the room. The joy of Juliette’s arrival is marred by the pain and loss you both feel.

“I feel ... incomplete,” you admit, tears forming in your eyes. “Like a part of me is missing.”

“I wish I could take away the pain,” Charles responds. “If I could trade places with you, I would in a heartbeat.”

You squeeze his hand. “It’s not your burden to bear. But it’s … hard. I wanted to give Juliette siblings, the big family we always talked about.”

Charles leans in to rest his forehead against yours. “We still have a family. We have each other and we have Juliette. We can still have a full, beautiful life together.”

You sigh, “But do you ever wonder why? Why us?”

He hesitates, searching for words. “Every day. Sometimes, there’s just no answer, only a path forward.”

You curl into him, drawing comfort from his warmth. “What does our path forward look like?”

Charles pulls back, looking deep into your eyes. “It’s filled with love, with hope. We heal together. We face challenges together. And we build a future together. No matter what.”

“I’m scared.”

He brushes away your tears. “So am I. But we have each other and that’s a pretty good place to start if you ask me.”

***

“She smiled, Charles! Did you see that? Juliette smiled!”

Charles rushes over and peers into the crib with gleaming eyes. “There it is! That little grin,” his voice is filled with wonder. “Our little miracle has the most beautiful smile. Just like her mother’s.”

Juliette, seemingly aware of the shared happiness in the room, gurgles softly, her small fingers reaching out to grasp a lock of Charles’ hair.

You watch them, a gentle smile playing on your lips. “She brings us so much joy. It’s amazing.”

Charles nods, his eyes never leaving Juliette’s face. “She’s our light in the darkness.”

Leaning over, you press a soft kiss to Juliette’s forehead. “I’m so thankful for both of you.”

He shifts closer, resting his head against yours. “You know, mon amour, I’ve been thinking ...”

You turn to him, curiosity piqued. “About what?”

He takes a deep breath. “About our dreams. I know it’s not what we originally planned but what if we consider adoption?”

Your heart skips a beat at his words, love and hope blossoming. “Adoption?”

Charles smiles warmly. “Yes. We’ve always dreamed of a big family. And there are so many children out there who need a home, who need love. We can give a child all of that and more.”

Tears well up in your eyes but they’re tears of joy and gratitude. “That’s a beautiful idea.”

He leans in, pressing his lips to yours gently. “Our love knows no bounds. The path to our dreams may not be as simple as we once imagined but we will get there, one step at a time.”

***

Charles’ phone buzzes with an incoming call in the early hours of the morning. Seeing a familiar name flash across the screen, he answers immediately. “Don Pietro? Is everything okay?”

“Charles, you need to come to Maranello. Both of you. As soon as possible.”

Charles exchanges a puzzled glance with you. “Is something wrong?”

“Just come,” Don Pietro insists, “and bring your wife. I believe there is a miracle waiting for you.”

The drive to Maranello is filled with anticipation. Your mind races with possibilities, questions whirling in a tornado of confusion and hope.

Upon arriving at the church, you’re met with the sight of the elderly priest holding a tiny bundle. The baby, with soft tufts of hair and eyes wide with curiosity, looks up at the two of you.

“This,” Don Pietro begins, “is Enzo. He was left on the steps of our church last night. And the moment I held him, I thought of you two.”

Charles’ eyes widen. “Enzo ... like Ferrari?”

Don Pietro nods with a soft chuckle, “It’s as if the universe is trying to tell us something.”

You reach out, taking the infant into your arms. Enzo’s little hand wraps around your finger, his eyes meeting yours. The connection is instant, like two souls recognizing each other.

Charles’ voice is thick with emotion, “It’s as if he was meant to be with us. A sign, maybe?”

Don Pietro smiles warmly, “Perhaps a nudge from above, reminding us that miracles happen when we least expect them.”

Tears spring to your eyes, the weight of the moment overwhelming you. Charles is equally moved, his eyes glistening and lips trembling.

“We talked about adoption,” he murmurs. “But this ... this feels like fate.”

Don Pietro nods. “He needs a family, love, and a home. And I believe you two can give him that.”

As Charles takes Enzo from your arms and cradles him close, a bond that goes beyond words quickly forms. You lean in, touching Enzo’s chubby cheek, your heart swelling with love.

The moment feels destined — a new piece seamlessly fitting into the puzzle of your family.

***

“Look at that, Julie and Enny! Those cars go vroom vroom,” you point out with a smile playing on your lips as the roar of engines fills the air.

Juliette’s eyes widen in awe, her tiny hand pointing excitedly. Beside her, Enzo claps his hands, giggling. “Vroom!” He mimics.

Charles, his racing suit on, kneels to their level. “Would you like to see papa’s car up close?”

Both children nod eagerly, their eyes sparkling.

As you make your way through the paddock, team members and other drivers stop to meet the kids. “Look at these future champions!” Exclaims one of the engineers, ruffling Enzo’s hair.

Juliette, ever the social butterfly, giggles and offers a shy “Hello.”

Reaching the Ferrari garage, the team breaks into smiles. “Looks like Charles brought his lucky charms today,” someone comments, causing a round of chuckles.

“Ready for a photo op?” Charles grins, lifting Juliette into the driver's seat as you follow suit with Enzo, placing him right beside his sister.

They look so small in the cockpit, faces full of wonder. “Beep beep,” Juliette laughs, pretending to steer.

“Future Ferrari driver right here,” Charles beams.

As the team gathers around, cameras flashing, you take a moment to soak it all in. The laughter, the joy, the memories — this is what life is about.

“There were times I thought this day would never come,” Charles whispers to you, his arm wrapping around your waist. “Our family here, all together.”

You squeeze his hand, tears of happiness threatening to spill over. “Our dream is now … and it’s only just beginning.”

***

“Henri and Helaine, look it’s your sister!” You cheer, pointing to the massive screen as Juliette’s Ferrari speeds past, making your young twins cheer and clap clumsily in excitement.

Charles grins as an orange blur follows shortly, “And Enzo’s not far behind. What a race!”

The atmosphere in the paddock is electric. Red for Ferrari, orange for McLaren, the colors of a family divided by teams but united by love.

Suddenly, a microphone appears as a familiar reporter approaches. “A quick word for the fans? It must be a thrilling day for the Leclerc family!”

Charles grins, adjusting his half-Ferrari, half-McLaren cap. “Oh, absolutely! We couldn’t be any prouder. A bit of sibling rivalry never hurt anyone, right?”

You laugh, nodding in agreement. “We’ve always said, as long as they’re safe and enjoying themselves, that’s what matters. Though,” you add with a playful wink, “I always wear both colors, just in case!”

The reporter chuckles. “And the young ones? Future racers in the making?”

Henri, with all the innocence of childhood, pipes up, “I wanna go vroom too!”

Helaine nods rapidly. “Me too! Super duper fast.”

You and Charles exchange a glance in amusement. “Well, there you have it,” Charles says with a smile. “Looks like the tracks will be seeing Leclercs for many years to come.”

The race ends with both Juliette and Enzo clinching a podium finish. The celebrations are loud and filled with joy, but for you, true happiness is seeing your family — past, present, and future — come together just like you always dreamed.

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wolverigrl · 1 month ago

Note

This scene as a story 🥵

Interrupted

Hugh Jackman x f!reader

A/N: I love all the requests and hope there will be even more, especially for Logan ;)

Warnings: some swearing here and there, light smut

Enjoy!

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It's been a long few weeks, but tonight feels different. I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, my legs tucked under me, chatting with Oscar. He's such a good kid - always curious, always with something nteresting to say. Ava's on the carpet nearby, completely engrossed in her blocks, humming to herself as she builds some colorful tower. It's one of those rare peaceful moments.

"You think Dad's movie is doing well?" Oscar asks, his voice thoughtful as he tosses the football between his hands.

"Oh, absolutely!" I smile. "Your dad's been working so hard. The movie will be amazing!"

Oscar nods, looking proud but a little distant. It's been a few weeks since Hugh started his promotion tour, and even though he's come iome as often as he can, the house eels different without him.

Just then, the front door opens, and I hear the familiar sound of his shoes on the hardwood floor.

"Hey! Daddy's home!" Hugh's voice echoes through the hallway

Ava jumps up, abandoning her blocks, "Daddy!" she squeals, running toward him. Oscar and I exchange a smile, and I stand up to meet Hugh as well. He steps into the living room, arms open wide, scooping up Ava as she collides with him. He looks tired but happy, his face lighting up the moment he sees us.

"Hey, there's my beautiful family!" he says warmly and kissing Ava on the forehead before setting her down. His eyes meet mine, and for a second, I feel my heart skip. Even after all these years, the way he looks at me still does something.

"Hey, you.." I say, wrapping my arms around his neck. His arms encircle my waist, pulling me close as our lips meet in a soft, lingering kiss. It's brief, but enough to make me miss him all over again.

"Missed you."

"I missed you more." he murmurs against my lips before stepping back and ruffling Oscar's hair.

"How's it going, buddy? Keeping everyone in check?"

Oscar grins. "Trying. It's a tough job!"

Hugh laughs, pulling him in for a hug.

"I bet."

Ava tugs at Hugh's hand, clearly ready for her bedtime routine. "Come on, Daddy, it's time for bed!"

Hugh winks at me. 'Duty calls. I' I take care of Ava, and then 1'll be back. Oscar, heading to your room soon?*

Yeah, 1'Il probably read for a bit," Oscar says, already making his way toward the stairs.

As Hugh leads Ava upstairs, I sink ack onto the couch, exhaling a deep breath. It feels good to have him home, even if just for a little while. A few minutes later, he returns, the corners of his mouth ifting as he sees me still curled up on the couch

"Bedtime routine went smoothly?" I ask.

He chuckles, collapsing next to me Ava was out like a light. Oscar's a teenager now, though. Bedtime's more of a suggestion than a rule.

We share a quiet laugh, and then it's just us - the house finally still. I lean against him, his arm sliding naturally around my shoulders pulling me closer. The warmth of his body is soothing, and I take a moment to just breathe him in.

"How've you been holding up this week?" he asks softly, his thumb stroking my arm.

"Busy. But good." I reply, turning to look at him. "What about you? It feels like you've been everywhere!"

He sighs, rubbing his face.

"I have. It's been non-stop interviews, press junkets, all of it. I barely had a second to breathe." His eyes soften as he looks down at me.

"I missed you. Missed this."

My heart flutters, and I shift, leaning into his side a bit more. "I missed you, too. It's been strange without you here."

He gives me a slow, knowing smile. "Guess l'II have to make up for lost time then."

I raise an eyebrow, smirking. "Oh yeah? How do you plan on doing that?"

Without a word, Hugh's hand slides down to rest on my hip, pulling me closer until I'm nearly on his lap. His touch is warm, and I can feel the tension building between us, that unspoken desire that's been bubbling under the surface since the moment he walked through the door.

I bite my lip, my breath hitching as I swing my leg over to straddle him and his hands immediately find their way to my hips, pulling me even closer. His fingers dig in, holding me there, as his dark eyes lock with mine. There’s a smoldering heat between us, a spark that’s been building ever since he walked through the door. It feels electric, and I’m feeding off it, my body already reacting to the closeness, the weight of his hands on me.

"I don’t think you understand how much I’ve missed this.." I murmur, leaning down so my lips brush against his ear, teasing him with my breath. I give a slow roll of my hips against his, feeling the growing hardness beneath me.

Hugh groans softly, his hands tightening their grip on my hips as I grind down again, my movements deliberate, slow, and torturous. “Trust me, I’ve missed you more.” he says, his voice rough, barely above a whisper. His hands start to roam under my shirt, fingertips grazing my bare skin, sending shivers up my spine. “Every damn day, I thought about this. About having you like this… on top of me, feeling you.”

I tilt my head back, sighing as his fingers trail higher up my sides, his touch sending sparks of heat through me. I roll my hips again, feeling the friction between us, and I bite my lip, a teasing smile forming on my face.

"I had to keep myself entertained, you know." I say, my voice dropping to a sultry tone. “All those nights without you. I had to take care of myself in more ways than one.”

Hugh’s eyes darken, and he swallows hard, his hands pausing for just a second before sliding up to cup my breasts over my shirt. “Yeah? Tell me what you did.” he whispers, his voice thick with lust. “Tell me how you touched yourself thinking of me.”

I let out a soft moan as his thumbs brush over my nipples, teasing through the fabric. My fingers tangle in his hair, pulling his head back slightly so I can look into his eyes. “I’d lay in bed, thinking about you. About how good your hands feel on me, how your mouth drives me crazy. I’d slide my hands down my body, imagining it was you. And I’d think about how much I need you, how no matter what I do, it’s never enough.”

His breath hitches, and I grind down on him again, this time harder, feeling his hardened length.

“Fuck.” he mutters, his hands moving to my ass, squeezing as he pulls me tight against him. “You saying that is going to drive me insane. Hell, I wish I’d been there… wish I’d been the one making you come, hearing you moan my name.”

I smirk, leaning down to capture his lips in a slow, heated kiss. It’s all tongue and teeth, the kiss deepening with each second as the desire between us becomes unbearable.

His hands start to roam more urgently now, one sliding up under my shirt to cup my bare breast, his thumb flicking over my nipple, making me arch into him. The other grips my ass, pulling me into his lap as I grind against him again, feeling the heat pooling low in my belly.

"Hugh.." I breathe, breaking the kiss just long enough to catch my breath, my lips hovering over his harder this time. The friction between us sends a rush of heat through my body, and I can't help the soft moan that escapes my lips.

"I need you.." I whisper, my voice barely a breath as I feel his hands tighten on my ass, pulling me closer, pushing me down onto him.

"You have no idea how badly l've needed this." he groans, his lips crashing back into mine, urgent and rough. His hands roam freely now, one sliding up to my back, tugging at the hem of my shirt, pushing it higher.

My breath comes out in short gasps, my fingers tangled in his hair as lkiss him again, hungrily, my hips moving in slow, deliberate circles, the sensation of his hands on my skin, the way he's pulling me into him, it's driving me wild.

I break the kiss, my lips brushing against his ear as I whisper. "I've been so wet for you, Hugh. Every night, just thinking about you.. how good you feel inside me."

I pause, grinding down again, harder, feeling his breath catch. "I couldn't wait for you to come home."

He lets out a low groan, his hands gripping my hips as I continue to move against him, my body already buzzing with the heat of arousal. "Fuck, baby.." he mutters, his voice thick with desire.

"You're killing me. I want you so bad right now."

His words ignite something in me and I tug at his shirt, pulling it up and over his head in one swift motion. My hands run down his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath my fingers, my body aching to feel more of him.

All of him.

He leans back slightly, his eyes dark and hungry as he watches me, his hands sliding up under my shirt, lifting it higher, exposing my skin

I let him pull the shirt over my head tossing it aside, and his hands immediately move to my breasts, making me gasp as a jolt of pleasure shoots through me.

"You feel so good, love." he murmurs, his voice rough, his hands exploring every inch of me.

Suddenly someone clears their throat.

We freeze.

Instinctively, I press my upper body against Hugh and turn my head in the direction from which the voice came.

My heart racing as I see Oscar standing at the bottom of the stairs, his eyes wide with a mix of embarrassment and discomfort.

"Oh my God." I mutter, my face burning with embarrassment.

Oscar clears his throat awkwardly and looks at the ceiling.

"I.. uh.. I just wanted to say goodnight. But, uh.. I'll go to bed now. Good night."

He doesn't wait for a response turning on his heel and practically sprinting back up the stairs.

Hugh and I sit there in stunned silence for a moment before we both burst out laughing, the tension evaporating into a mix of relief and embarrassment.

"Well.." Hugh says, running a hand through his hair. "That was.. unfortunate."

I shake my head, still laughing softly.

"We should probably go to bed too, before we traumatize him any further."

Hugh grins, his eyes still sparkling with that familiar mischief. "Probably a good idea."

We stand up, and as we head upstairs, his hand finds mine, squeezing it gently.

Even though the moment was interrupted, the connection between us is still there, stronger than ever. And I know there will be plenty of time to finish what we started.

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Tags: @angelofthorr @haytchee

#hugh jackman #wolverine #marvel #hugh jackman x you #x men #hugh #hugh jackman x reader #jackman #hugh jackman imagines #fluff #smut #hugh jackman smut #logan howlett

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