#i’m answering an ask from 2015 | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

communistkenobi · 23 days ago

Note

could you expand / share reading materials on "gender is a structure that mediates access to personhood"? i feel like that's an important point that i don't fully grasp. especially because it is my understanding that until relatively recently even white, bourgeois, cis-heterosexual, perisex etc women were also denied personhood, but were already gendered as women, right?

thanks in advance!

I’m so sorry you sent me this ask like three months ago and I’m only getting around to it now lol

This is going to be a long post. I will be talking a lot about citizenship and rights in this post. I’ll include citations, but two overarching texts I will be engaging with a lot are Unequal Freedom (2004) by Evelyn Nakano Glenn and The Three Worlds of Welfare Capitalism (1989) by Gøsta Esping-Andersen.

This is also not meant to be a comprehensive answer to your question. I am much less familiar with migration & refugee scholarship, which is obviously deeply engaged with the concept of citizenship as an apparatus for granting rights. I’m flagging this because my answer has a particular focus that is not generalisable. Everything I say is not “the answer” to your question, but an answer informed by specific domains of scholarship.

First, I think a good place to start is that when we talk about ‘personhood’ as a status that a human being can or cannot possess, we are often talking about a status that is realisable through citizenship. ‘Personhood’ is itself a legal term, and we can see this in how stateless people (i.e. people with no citizenship) are treated - because rights are granted by and administered through states, being without state citizenship means you are unable to realise any set of rights, and therefore, you are rendered as a non-person. The UN has two separate conventions on the rights of stateless people for example, as being stateless is necessarily an international issue. I think this approach helps makes sense of why “human rights” is a popular framing in discussions of how to remediate inequality (e.g. “trans rights are human rights”). The “human” part of that equation is only realised through the attainment of “rights,” i.e., through citizenship. Citizenship = personhood can also be seen when people invoke “second class citizens” as an articulation of legal, political, and societal discrimination - i.e., groups of people who have less/no access to rights compared to other groups within a state. Systems of classed citizenship often emerge from regimes of settler colonialism, slavery, and apartheid (Glenn discusses this in her book).

The basic Marxist intervention in this discussion is that this class system still exists even in places that have abolished slavery, abolished apartheid, and/or gone through formal decolonisation, because state law under capitalism is fundamentally unjust. Marx calls law the “mystification of power” (I believe he says this in The German Ideology? I'm rusty on my Marx readings lol) - he argues that law is a bourgeois system of justice that caters to the wealthy and powerful and disenfranchises the poor and marginal, but appears as neutral and fair through a liberal “theater” (Marx’s term from The 18th Brumaire) of equality and democracy, mystifying its actual effects and purpose (The Red Demiurge (2015) by Scott Newton is a book about Soviet legal history that goes into some of this. His focus is on the evolution of the Bolshevik relationship to law as the USSR developed and encountered quite literally new legal problems that emerged as a result of the formation of a socialist state). This is also part of the Marxist critique of nationalism - if state citizenship is what grants access to rights, and citizenship is classed (through your relationship to production, through white supremacy, through patriarchy, through colonial status, through religious status, through etc), then equality does not legally exist, that all equality is bourgeois equality, i.e., not universal, not equal.

Gøsta Esping-Andersen provides a really helpful theory of thinking about citizenship rights within a capitalist state (his book only focuses on Western imperial core states, so just flagging that lol). He begins by arguing that:

all markets are regulated by the state, there is no actual “free” or anarcho-capitalist market,

because of this necessary regulatory function provided by the state, the commodity of wage-labour (i.e., the process of selling your labour-power as a “good” or commodity on a market in exchange for money in the form of wages) is likewise always regulated to some degree, and so finally,

welfare should be understood as the regulatory system of the commodity of wage-labour.

This regulatory apparatus is what grants people “social citizenship rights” - sick leave, pensions, disability and unemployment insurance, welfare payments, food stamps, tax bracket placements, childcare, healthcare, education, housing, so on and so on. Within this framework, Esping-Andersen demonstrates that various welfare regimes produce different citizenship classes - Canada, Australia and the US, for example, explicitly reproduce an impoverished “welfare class” through a marginal, means-tested welfare regime that only provides benefits to the very poorest. Various European countries by contrast tend to have what he calls a “corporatist” welfare regime that often grants different social citizenship rights based on which occupation you have, which he argues emerged from feudal and pre-capitalist religious (esp. Catholic) social forms of organisation.

ANYWAY, the purpose of doing all that set-up is to contextualise how we arrive at the question of gender. Feminists make the basic point that citizenship is also classed by gender - in Unequal Freedom, Glenn talks about this in the US, where white women were legally treated as extensions of their husbands and had no access to property rights, voting rights, and so on. Black women, in contrast, were treated sexually as women by slaveholders (i.e., raped and abused) but denied any and all personhood on the basis of their slave status. Citizenship in the US was historically based first on your ability to hold property (reserved for white bourgeois men), and then on your ability to “freely sell” your labour-power on the market - white women were denied citizenship on this basis because they were consigned to managing what was defined as the “private realm,” i.e., the realm that houses free labourers (white men). This public/private distinction emerges through capitalist markets and the commodity of wage-labour, which produces a sharp distinction where productive labour takes place “out there” (paid for in wages by the capitalist class) and reproductive labour takes place “in here” (i.e., labour that is not paid for in wages* by the capitalist class and forms the social basis of reproducing the public labour pool).

*for white women. see below

As Glenn argues, this public/private distinction in the US is fundamentally racialised. We can see this difference in the emergence of the suffragette movement, where white women appeal to their whiteness (i.e., free labour status) as the rationale for being granted the right to vote. Black women were disqualified from this movement, and did not benefit from white women’s demands for equal citizenship on the basis of them providing all this unpaid reproductive labour to their white husbands, as Black and other racialised women often provided domestic housekeeping labour for white women (unpaid during slavery and for indentured servants, for wages after its abolition). This leaves Black women without a private realm, subjecting them to a “purely public” arena that is uniquely difficult to organise for unionisation and/or improve working conditions (Deborah King talks about this further in Multiple Jeopardy, Multiple Consciousness (1988)).

Trans-feminism explicates this further - coercive sex assignment at birth classes people on the basis of reproductive capacity. “Females” are impregnated, “males” do the impregnating. This particular system of sex assignment is deeply tied to colonial population management concerns, where measuring the labour capacity of colonised subjects was a matter of managing white wealth (as well as making sure “there weren’t too many of them” compared to white people in colonies - this was especially a major white anxiety after the Haitian Revolution at the turn of the 19th century, the largest slave revolt in history. See Settlers by J Sakai). You can read Maria Lugones’ papers The Coloniality of Gender (2016) and Heterosexualism and the Colonial/Modern Gender System (2007), Alex Adamson's (2022) paper Beyond the Coloniality of Gender, and Guirkinger & Villar's (2022) paper Pro-birth policies, missions, and fertility for some introductory reading.

(Note: patriarchal gender hierarchies predate and exist outside of European colonial domination - it is a popular white queer talking point that Europe invented gender, that indigenous peoples actually all had epic radically equal genderfuck systems that were destroyed by Europe, and this is a very patronising and racist historical generalisation that I want to avoid making. Third World/Global South feminism is a necessary corrective to this - an arena of scholarship I am sadly not well versed in. Sylvia Wynter is the only scholar I’ve engaged with on this topic, which again, is a very limited slice. I welcome reading recommendations in this area).

While sex assignment is coercive for everyone, it is a particular problem for trans people, who are accused of impersonation and ID fraud if our sex markets conflict with our gender presentation, or we don’t “look like” our sex marker to cis people. Because you need a government ID to do basically anything - getting a job, applying for an apartment, getting a driver’s license, going to school, buying a phone plan, being on unemployment, applying for disability, filing an insurance claim, doing your taxes, opening a bank account, getting married, going to the hospital, buying lottery tickets at the corner store, etc - and sex markers appear on basically all government ID in many countries, trans people are systematically denied a whole range of citizenship rights (and thus personhood) on the basis of this sex assignment. Trans people are not merely treated as the wrong gender, they are ungendered, and by this process, rendered ineligible for personhood. Like just as an example, gay marriage is a luxury to trans people, as gay marriage is based on the state recognising both you and your partner’s gender in the first place. (See Heath Fogg Davis’ paper Sex-Classification Policies as Transgender Discrimination (2014) for example. Butler also talks about this on a more fundamental level in Bodies That Matter (1993), and Stryker & Sullivan also discuss this in The Queen's Body, the King's Member (2009)).

This is likewise the impetus behind anti-trans bathroom bills and sports bans - citizenship guarantees, among other things, a right to public space, and these bans are meant to deprive transgender people access to those spaces. These bans should be understood as a way of circumventing the much more difficult process of revoking the citizenship of trans people outright by using a component of citizenship (sex assignment at birth) to impoverish the quality of citizenship that trans people have access to. This is why bans on medical transition are not actually just about medical oppression, but the oppression of trans peoples’ abilities to live in society in general. An instructive parallel is abortion bans for pregnant people, who, in addition to facing medical oppression and violence by being denied healthcare, are likewise systemically marginalised through being forced into the role of “mother” (again we see how cissexualism reduces people to reproductive capacity), economically marginalising them by reducing their capacity to earn a wage, tying them to partners/spouses that now have greater economic and social leverage over them (and thus have greater capacity to assault, rape, and murder them), depriving them of the choice of alternative life paths, and so on.

It’s generally much more difficult to get the state to sign off on unilaterally oppressing a group of citizens by depriving them of citizenship completely, so attacking a group through more narrow and particular policies like healthcare or the use of public space (with the ultimate goal of depriving them of their rights in general) is often much easier and more productive. See Beauchamp's 2019 book Going Stealth: Transgender Politics and US Surveillance Practices, who talks about this in the context of anti-trans bathroom bills in chapter 3. This is also a common thread in disability scholarship, as disabled people are likewise denied much of the same citizenship rights through similar logics - the book Absent Citizens (2009) by Michal J Prince talks about this in the Canadian context. To give an example he uses in the book, in Canada, accessible voting stations were only federally mandated in I believe the 90s, meaning that disabled people were practically disenfranchised until about 30 years ago in Canada, even though there were no laws explicitly banning disabled people from voting.

As a result, any barriers put in place by the state to change your legal name and sex marker should be understood as a comprehensive denial of personhood, not only because we as trans people want our IDs to reflect who we are, but because those barriers make it difficult to do literally anything in civil society. This the basis behind the cry of “trans rights are human rights” - taking away our healthcare rights also fundamentally denies us equal citizenship (and thus personhood), because healthcare is where we get all those little permission slips from doctors and psychologists to change our name and gender marker in the first place. This is of course not remotely the same as being made stateless (trans refugees are placed in a particularly harrowing and violent legal black hole, for example) - I as a white trans person living in the imperial core still benefit from a massive range of material, political and social privileges not afforded to many others, but my transness positions me at a deficit relative to cis people who have the same state citizenship as I do. As I hope I've made clear, it's not a binary case of either having or not having citizenship, but that citizenship is classed, and the quality of your citizenship is heavily dependent on a whole range of social, political, legal, economic, and historical factors that are all largely out of your control.

So not only is gender a barrier to citizenship, it mediates access to realising the full range of personhood within a regime of state citizenship. Trans people are not the only group effected by this, as I described above, but trans people are a group that makes obvious the arbitrary, coercive, and unequal nature of sex assignment through its connection to state citizenship.

#asks #book club #even old new york was once new amsterdam

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httpknjoon · 6 months ago

Text

the truth, the lie, and the surprise | jjk

plot | After Wooshik receives the surprise meant for your boyfriend, Jungkook is put in an interrogation situation to talk about his undisclosed relationship with a certain 'Princess'.

words | 1.6k+

genres | fluff, crack, secret relationship au, established relationship au, friends to lovers au

pairing | jungkook x reader

note | this one's long overdue! the end is coming for this series. enjoy reading.

main masterlist | drabble series masterlist

“I really feel like I’m not your friend anymore.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes at his friend’s dramatics. His eyes have traveled everywhere in the diner except to Wooshik, who’s sitting in front of him. Jungkook looks down at his chocolate milkshake, playing with the straw while listening to his friend.

This all began with the surprise flower arrangement you sent for him– which he loved by the way. It was special for him, especially since you included tiger lilies, his favorite flower, in the center of the arrangement. It was his first time receiving one and he would have loved indulging in the fleeting feeling of having flowers sent to him. But, just less than an hour ago, Wooshik received the said delivery sent by you meant for him. At that point, Jungkook knew he had to reveal his relationship status because how else would you explain someone sending his flowers a day before Valentine’s?

At first, his stomach dropped when Wooshik asked him who Princess was. But now, sitting here in the diner near the bowling alley they initially talked about going to, he just keeps on biting his inner cheek to stop himself from smiling or even chuckling at how dramatic Wooshik is.

Wooshik continued after taking a sip from his ice-cold soda, “You know? I feel like you’re keeping secrets from me. I’m your best friend, Kook. Why are you hiding stuff from me? I never hide anything from you.”

That’s when Jungkook had to interfere, “Freshman year, 2015. You didn’t tell me you got to go out with Grace Lee for not just one– or two– or three dates with her. You two went out for like a month. You knew that–”

“Okay. maybe that. But that was one time and she came on to me in Bryan’s house party.” Wooshik defended himself, maintaining the same narrative he told him years ago when Jungkook found out about him and the girl he had his eyes on in the first couple of months of their freshman year.

“Okay. Then, this is my one time too,” Jungkook replied, leaning back to the vibrant red faux leather of the diner booth.

“Yeah, but this one’s pretty serious. I mean, she sent you flowers! And everything is starting to make sense now.”

Wooshik recalled how his best friend gradually stayed lowkey every time they would go out. He was beginning to wonder why Jungkook stopped entertaining women who would come up to him at bars or any other place they went to. Plus, in Wooshik’s knowledge before this, Jungkook has been single for too long. It is unusual not just to him, but to everyone in your friend group. Jungkook used to be the subject of teasing by everyone because of how he struggled to commit to a relationship.

“Did you not tell about this because we bet on your relationships a long time ago?” he asked, recollecting when he, Jenny, Blaire, and occasionally Dara would take bets on how long his relationship would last. You always just laugh at them doing that but never join.

“Maybe,” Jungkook answered shortly. It is one of the factors you and him decided to stay private about your growing relationship.

“Why keep her a secret? Does she know you’re keeping her a secret?” Wooshik began throwing rapid-fire questions.

Jungkook remained calm, “Yes, she knows. It’s a decision we made. We’re not totally a secret, we’re just private.”

“What?” his best friend mumbled, confusion written all over his face. “What’s the difference— Has she met your mom?!”

“Yes, a thousand times.”

“And she never told me about it?!” he exclaimed.

Being friends for almost half of their lives now, Wooshik is basically Jungkook’s adoptive brother. He is close to his parents, especially to his mom, who treats him as her own. They would call each other at times like a real mother and son. But knowing these two people in his life, Jungkook knows that there was probably a time when his mom probably slipped on telling Wooshik about you. But he probably missed it.

“Okay, just ask anything right now. I’ll answer anything I can.”

“Is Princess her name? Or it’s just some kind of nickname?” Wooshik asked.

“A nickname.”

“How long have you been together?”

There was this weird tension in the air when Wooshik asked him these questions. Jungkook finds it funny that he feels like a criminal being interrogated by an officer, who is just his friend being naive and curious at the same time.

“More than two years,” Jungkook replied, looking straight into his friend’s eyes. That’s when he sees Wooshik’s eyes get bigger as more realizations set in his head.

“Two years?! Have I met her before?” he asked so loudly that the couple from the table next to them looked in their direction.

His tone was almost accusatory. Out of context, if you’re a stranger listening to these two men, you would assume that they are a couple and that Jungkook cheated on Wooshik. Jungkook turned his head to the couple and slightly bowed his head to offer a silent apology for the bother. Then, he looked back at his friend.

“Yes, you already did.”

Wooshik’s jaw dropped to the diner’s checkered floor. He was left with no words while trying to recall every woman he met around Jungkook. He tried to trace back every woman he met because of him. But with him having a brain like a sieve, it’s hopeless. And as if Wooshik’s jaw can get lower, Jungkook continued.

“A lot of times already actually.”

Is it rude that Jungkook is enjoying this? At this point, he is just teasing his best friend for his reactions. Feeling his mouth run dry, Wooshik closed his mouth.

“Am I… the only one who didn’t know about this?” he asked slowly, admittedly feeling a little dumb with not realizing this secret Jungkook had been keeping.

“Will it make you less offended about this whole thing if I tell you you're the first to know in our friend group?”

Wooshik nods his head slowly, “Maybe.”

“Okay.” Jungkook nods. “You are the only one who knows.”

He smiled even wider, knowing full damn well that he is lying.

An hour after they arrived there, the two ended up walking back home after finishing their drinks at the diner. The plans of going to the bowling alley next door were all gone when Wooshik remembered that he had lesson plans and school activities needed to prepare for the upcoming week.

“So, Princess. Two years. I met her before. I’m the first one to know.” Wooshik recited every vital information he learned today.

“Yup.” Jungkook nods.

As soon as they got back in his house, Jungkook was asked of another question.

“Will you ever introduce her to me and everyone?”

And without even pausing for a second, he replied, “Of course. We already talked about that.”

Because you two did. A few times before and after you drunkenly revealed your relationship to Blaire. But there is still no crystal clear plan for it. Just discussions that sometime this year, you will tell your friends about everything.

“When? When are we gonna meet her?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we’ll just surprise you.” Jungkook laughed.

Later that day, Jungkook went to your place. You just got home from your Galentine’s Day celebration with your friends. You gave him a small box of vanilla cupcakes you baked on your own during the baking class you, Jennie, Blaire, and Dara took that day. Your boyfriend also took notice of your newly dyed hair, complimenting you on the color you chose. He then thanked you for the flowers and what escalated after receiving them. You two exchange stories about your equally eventful day while Bam sleeps on his soft bed in the corner of your living room.

“And what did he say when he learned about how long we’ve been together?” you excitedly asked with a grin already forming on your face.

Instead of answering your question, Jungkook acted out Wooshik’s reaction. It was exactly like what was in your head. You laughed, softly slapping his arm. He smiled before turning his head again back again to his sketch pad, that you bought some time ago at a dollar store. He has been sketching since you handed him that pad minutes ago.

“He didn’t overreact, did he?” you asked, a little worry can be heard in your tone.

Jungkook looks up, sensing the tone. He smiled while reaching for your hand, “It’s Wooshik. Of course, he overreacts.”

Unexpecting that, the tightness in your chest cleared off and was instantly forgotten as you laughed. Jungkook chuckled too.

“Anyway, what do you think about this? Do you think this is something you would love to have on your skin forever?” He then turned his sketch pad to you, showing you what he’s been working on.

You gasped, “Babe, I love it!”

You reached for the pad and looked at the different pieces he drew. Since you brought up the idea of getting matching tattoos during your recent picnic date, you also asked him to draw the tattoo you two would get to make it more special. You would draw it yourself but you knew Jungkook is much better of an artist than you.

You snapped a picture of the drawing, “I’ll send these to the artist and maybe we can get it tattooed tomorrow.”

“Are you getting them all?!” he asked as he drew three separate objects that symbolize something from each other.

“Yeah, I know I cannot just choose one from any of them.”

TAGLIST (closed)

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#bts fluff #bts series #bts drabble #bts scenarios #bts secret relationship au #bts established relationship au #bts friends to lovers #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook drabble #jungkook series #jungkook secret relationship au #jungkook established relationship #jungkook friends to lovers #our little private love affair

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biblomaniac · 4 months ago

Text

Supercorp headcanon:

Kara is ready to combust.

Everyday this week has been complete torment, but in a delicious way.

On Sunday, Lena wore an A-line floral dress to a brunch The Foundation hosted to promote its new Girls in STEM program.

On Monday, Lena showed up to CatCo for lunch with Kara in black slacks and a waistcoat, with a deep purple silk blouse underneath. Kara had to restrain herself from running her hand up and down the back of Lena’s blouse during their customary hug of greeting.

On Tuesday, the forest green dress Lena wore hugged her curves so well Kara couldn’t help but stare everytime she caught a glance of it across the room.

On Wednesday, a Hellgrammite started a fire in the business district that required the Superfriends help. J’onn, Lena, and Brainy stayed at the Tower as support for Supergirl, Dreamer, Sentinel, and Guardian. Four hours after the initial emergency alert, Supergirl flew into the tower through the balcony. She couldn’t wait to take a hot shower and maybe order some Chinese for dinner. But first, she had to write a debrief of her final saves from the day.

“Hey, darling. Are you ready to go?”

“Lena, hi! I’m almost—“ Kara starts to answer, but abruptly stops when she looks to the side and is eye level with Lena’s chest. “—done.”

The blue low-cut blouse Lena is sporting has left a considerable amount of cleavage exposed. Kara’s heart thunders, her face flushes, and her hand’s clench tightly to keep from reaching out to Lena. Unfortunately, the table under her grip isn’t prepared for the brunt of Kara’s Kryptonian strength, leaving two holes of twisted metal.

“…Oops.”

On Thursday, when Kara got to Lena’s penthouse, she found Lena snuggled on the couch in her National City University sweatshirt. The shirt was at least two sizes too large on Lena, giving it an oversized look. Kara’s eyes zeroed in on long, pale legs when Lena stood to greet the blonde with a hug.

After their hug, Lena moved into the Kitchen to gather snacks for their movie night. Without her heels, Lena had to tip toe to reach the Oreos on the second shelf.

“Darling, I can’t reach,” Lena huffed. When Kara turned to help, all the blood rushed to her head when she saw the former CEO’s nearly nonexistent short’s patterned with Supergirls crest.

Kara crossed the room on wobbly legs, reaching over the brunettes head to grab the Oreos, crackers, tea, and anything else from the top shelf Lena may need. If she takes a moment to glance down at her crest running along Lena’s ass and hips, well, she’ll just keep that little secret to herself.

On Friday, Lena wore black leggings and a soft white sweater to game night. Lena looked so soft and docile with her hair down, minimal makeup, and fuzzy socks. Kara couldn’t help but tuck her head into Lena’s neck, breathing in her sweet scent during their hug.

“Are you okay, darling,” Lena quietly asked as she moved one hand to cradle Kara’s head closer, while the other clutched onto strong broad shoulders.

“Fine, I’m fine. I just missed you.” Kara admitted.

“We saw each other last night, Kara.” Lena chuckled, moving to release Kara. The blonde wasn’t ready to let go, but did so anyway. Dropping her arms from Lena’s waist, Kara grabbed her hand and leading Lena to their favorite spot for game night.

On Saturday, it all finally comes to a head. The whole gang is out at Al’s Bar, enjoying the first night they’ve all been able to meet in what feels like years.

Lena looks stunning, dressed down in tight black ripped skinny jeans, a red crop top, brown leather jacket and black pumps. Their table had been crowded, and Lena made the executive decision to sit in Kara’s lap to “save space” for M’gann, who would be joining their group after her shift.

The drinks had been flowing steady all night, leaving everyone at least a bit tipsy. Kara had even indulged herself with an Aldebaran Rum and Coke. She sips slowly, remembering how it felt to be drunk the last time she had this drink. Lena’s proximity plus the alcohol is a heady combination.

By the time Kara is halfway through her drink, her left arm has snaked across Lena’s stomach, open palm holding the brunette close to her chest, while her right hand alternates between Lena’s thigh and her cup. Kara is hardly paying attention to the conversation, focused mainly on how close Lena is, how her hair smells like vanilla and honey, or how her heartbeat sounds strong and steady.

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

Ugh, Andrea. It’s not that Kara dislikes her former boss, per se. The blonde just prefers that Kara and Lena time is not interrupted.

All week, Andrea has been popping up wherever Lena is. She stuck to Lena’s side during the entire Sunday brunch; called Lena for a meeting in the middle of Monday’s lunch date; was present for every single round Lena walked after Tuesday’s press conference; popped into the tower after Acrata helped with the fire on Wednesday; Thursdays movie night was interrupted when Andrea texted Lena about a “fashion emergency,” regarding a dinner she was going to; Andrea came halfway through game night on Friday, stealing Lena as her game partner and leaving Kara to third-wheel Alex and Kelly for the rest of the night.

Kara watches as Lena and Andrea move through the crowd of bodies to find a spot to dance in.

“You should just ask her out,” Alex leans over the the table to whisper-shout, her fourth beer clutched in her hand.

“Who?” Kara asks, trying hard to seem nonchalant.

“Lena, you dolt. We can all see clear as day how you two feel about each other. Put your big girls pants on and talk to her!”

“I don’t—I can’t, Alex. What if she rejects me? Our friendship just recovered, I can’t risk it asking for something I don’t deserve,” she laments, circling the rim of her glass with her finger.

“What about what Lena deserves? She cares about you, Kara. It’s been years of you two dancing around this thing.” Alex says.

“We aren’t dancing around anything, Al. She won’t want me, she doesn’t—“ the rest of her words die in her mouth as she catches a glance of Lena and Andrea on the dance floor. Lena’s back is pressed to Andrea’s front as the move to the beat of the music. When the song changes, Lena turns in Andrea’s grasp, standing chest to chest.

The glass in Kara’s grip shatters, spraying glass across the table. Thankfully, Kara’s cup was nearly empty.

“Shit, sorry. I’ll clean this up,” Kara said, using multiple napkins to collect the shards of glass.

Alex laughs, covering her mouth with her hand. “Kara, stop being a wimp and talk to her before Andrea asks her out again.”

“Yeah, okay, you’re right. I can do this, I got this.” Kara nods her head determinedly, chugs what remains of Alex’s beer and stands to make her way to Lena. As she navigates her way toward her hearts desire, she see’s Andrea’s hand lowering from its position on Lena’s back to rest on her ass. All conscious thought leaves Kara’s head as she quickens her pace just short of SuperSpeed to reach Lena.

“Lee—“

***************************************************

“Corazón, let’s go dancing!” Andrea exclaimed, pulling Lena to the dance floor.

“Drea, what are you doing?” Lena’s asks as she follows Andrea out to the floor.

“I’m helping you, Lena. If we get Kara jealous, she’ll stop acting like such a Girl Scout and finally make a move,” Andrea says, waving off Lena’s concern.

Lena stops walking and starts swaying at Andrea’s insistence, matching her moves seamlessly. It feels just like boarding school, with Andrea leading Lena by the hips. “I don’t know, Drea. You’ve been interfering all week and she hasn’t said so much as a peep. I don’t think she has feelings for me.”

“Joder, las dos son tan despistadas. She will! She has been jealous all week! We just have to step up our game,” Andrea exclaims in exasperation, turning Lena so that the brunettes back rests against her chest.

“Look at her, she’s glaring right at us! When the song changes, I’ll grab your ass and this will all be over,” Andrea laughs.

“Andrea! This is ridiculous. What does Sam think about this whole situation; shouldn’t you be worried about what she’ll say?”

“What’s between Samantha and I is none of your concern, Corazón. But if you must know, she told me, and I quote, “I hope it works so Kara can grow a pair—“

“Hey!”

“—I’m sure she won’t be bothered by what means I use to help you both along.”

“You know what? Fine, whatever. When it doesn’t work I don’t ever want to talk about this to either of you ever again.” Lena mutters, thoroughly embarrassed and ready to call a quits to their plan.

“I reserve the right to tease you both when it does,” Andrea replies, turning Lena around at the song change and moving one hand to grasp Lena at the ass.

“Kara’s coming; I told you this would work! Play cool,” Andrea says.

As Kara closes the final distance, she reaches a hand out to Lena, touching her on the shoulder, intent to end whatever this is between her and Andrea.

“Lee, mind if I cut in,” Kara asks sharply. Lena gives Andrea a glance, dismissing her wordlessly as she accepts Kara’s hand.

“I’m gonna step outside to take a call. Lena, call me later if you want to…talk,” Andrea imparts with a sly smile before moving to exit the bar. Kara glares daggers at Andrea’s retreating form.

“Hi, darling. How are you?” Lena asks, watching Kara’s face transform from a scowl to a happy grin.

“Better now that you’re with me,” Kara says pulling Lena closer by the waist. That Aldebaran rum may have given her a bit of confidence, but she won’t do anything Lena doesn’t want. “Is this okay?”

“Of course, darling. Are you okay; you looked a bit frazzled when you came over.” Lena wraps her arms over broad shoulders, admiring Kara’s beauty as they slowly grow closer to one another.

“Yes, yes. I was just a bit nervous, I guess.” Kara ducks her head at the admission, blushing.

Nervous? Odd. Kara may not be as outwardly imposing as Supergirl, but she is hardly nervous since her reveal to the world as being Supergirl. The synergy of Kara Zor-El encompasses both Kara Dancers and Supergirl, but without the necessity to hide behind one mask or the other.

Lena can’t hide the surprise in her voice, “What do you have to be nervous about?”

“I just—I want to be Andrea—“

“You want to be Andrea?!”

It seems the rum has also compromised her ability to articulate clearly.

“No, wait, that’s not what I meant. I want to be in her place with you. I’ve been…jealous. She’s interrupted our time together everyday and just now she was…” Kara bites her lip, turning her head to look away.

Lena bends to the side, trying but failing to catch Kara’s gaze.

“She was what, Kara. I can’t help you if you don’t talk to me.” Kara is jealous. It almost seems too good to be true. Maybe Andrea’s plan will work after all.

Kara lifts her head, piercing blue eyes gazing into Lena’s own. “She was touching you! Holding you! I don’t want her to do that, Lena. I want, I want to do that.” Kara states with conviction, voice hardening determinately.

Kara thinks she’s overstepped when Lenas arms loosen from around her neck. She prepares to apologize, heart breaking at the thought of Lena turning her down. That is, until Lena reaches for her hands, dragging them from their purchase on her hips to rest just above her ass.

“You want to hold me like this?” Lena whispers, head tilted and pupils dilating. “You can Kara, you can touch me however you want.”

The blonde moves her hands down tentatively, looking for any signs of unease. “When she doesn’t find any, she palms at Lena’s ass, pulling her forward and holding tight. “This okay?”

“Perfect, darling; keep going.” Lena noses at Kara’s neck, interested to see how far this will go.

Kara starts to dance, leading Lena along to the thumping beat. She feels a new kind of thrill, so unlike the one she gets from being Supergirl. There is a hot, pulsating feeling running through her veins.

The superhero tilts her head down to lay a kiss on Lena’s temple. “This okay,” she asks, internally begging for Lena to want more.

“Keep going.”

Kara starts to lay soft kisses down the side of Lena’s face, hands still kneading her supple behind. When she reaches the brunettes jaw, she noses her way along the skin back up to her ear. She lays one more kiss on the shell of her ear before she whispers, “More?”

“More.” Lena says, nearly panting under Kara’s ministration.

The blonde drops her face to the crook of the shorter woman’s neck, placing a kiss on each pulse point before laying a third on the beauty mark at the center of Lena’s throat.

Lena reaches up, one hand tangling in the hair at the base of Kara’s neck, while the other holds firmly to a bulging bicep. “Keep going, darling,” Lena rasps.

Tentatively, Kara laves her tongue against the mark. At the sound of Lena’s quiet moan, Kara sucks at the mark. When she pulls away, there is a blossoming patch of red over the skin.

Kara touches her forehead lightly to Lena’s, gazing into verdant eyes.

“Can I kiss you?” Kara implores, cerulean eyes glassy and wanting.

“Please,” Lena supplicates, leaning forward ever so slightly.

Without further ado, the blonde presses her mouth firmly to the red painted lips in front of her. It isn’t long before the brunettes tongue runs across her lips seeking entrance into her mouth.

*********************************************

“Did it work?”

“Of course it did, Tesoro.” Andrea answers into the phone.

“Fucking finally. I’ll call Lena in the morning and get all the dirty details. Now that that’s taken care of, when are you gonna come see me?” Sam implores.

“I thought you were coming here next weekend?”

“ I am, but Ruby’s at summer camp for the rest of the week. I thought you could come spend some time here in Metropolis before we fly to National City.”

“Well, what’s in it for me,” Andrea flirts, already looking for red eye flights out east.

“You, me, an empty apartment, and all the time in the world to do whatever we please.”

“Promise me we can do that thing I like and I’ll be there in the morning.” Andrea knows she’s pushing her luck, but there’s nothing sweeter than a little pain with pleasure.

“Oh, baby, we can do whatever you want—” Samantha starts, voice sickly sweet, “—if you get here before dawn,” she finishes, voice low and demanding.

“Done.”

#supercorp #lena luthor #kara zorel #supergirl #kara danvers #kara x lena #first kiss #headcanon #pining #jealousy #andrea rojas #samantha arias #rojarias

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riptides-n-roses · 6 months ago

Text

dirty secret - seth rollins (18+)

⛧ pair - seth rollins (architect era) x reader

⛧ warnings: unprotected p in v, biting, hickeys, trying not to get caught, cre@mpie, consensual sex, little hint of fluff, hate sex. (Honestly idk if this contains angst but i'll go ahead and add this as a warning)

⛧ he's an absolute cutie and i feel that he should have some smut written about him too; i will say right now that this is taken place around 2015 authority era. so imagine rollins in his architect character with the championship. :)

⛧ after seth rollins costed you a win for the championship, you've started to hate his guts and he hated yours too. but what if the two of you were hiding something...

⛧word count: 1.7K

Backstory:

You were one of the top babyfaces of WWE and heavily adored by the audience. The way you competed against female superstars always caught their attention. You were insanely talented with your move-sets and your finisher (which was a double arm grab curb stomp.) However, The Authority took notice of this, including the WWE world-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins.

One night, you had a match against Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. As soon as you were about to hit your iconic finisher, Rollins came out to the ring, leaving you confused and distracted, not realizing that Nikki was rolled under the ring, and her twin sister, Brie Bella, disguised as her. You shrugged and went back to your match. However, Brie quickly rolled you over for the cover.

1...

2...

3...

It was over. Nikki Bella is still the Divas Champion. After Nikki and Brie leave the ring to celebrate her victory, you sat in the ring with disbelief. But also, pure anger. You turned your attention to Rollins who was still watching you from the titantron, with a shit-eating grin on his face, proud that he prevented you from reaching a milestone you worked hard for. The audience roared with excitement as you quickly left the ring and made your way to Rollins, delivering a slap across the face. He was stunned as you left the arena.

Backstage, you were stopped by the Authority to ask you something.

“Y/N, we’ve been taking notice of you and your moves and we’ve got to say. You are talented.” Stephanie spoke, looking you up and down with a smile.

“Um…Thanks?” Your tone was full of confusion. “But, No Offense at all, why are you speaking to me about that?”

“Well Y/N…” Triple H chimed “You see, The Authority always does what’s best for business. And we’ve agreed that the newest member…should be you.”

Your eyes widened. You? A member of The Authority? You wouldn’t. You couldn’t. You’re already a loveable superstar with the audience. Why change that now for absolute power?

“I…I don’t know. I’m already happy with where I am. The WWE Universe seems to agree too. I wouldn’t give that away with all due respect. Besides, I refuse to be in the same group as Seth Rollins who’s literally ruined my opportunity tonight to be a champion.” You wanted to puke mentioning that name.

“We understand your frustration.” Stephanie replied. “But, it wasn’t our decision for him to prevent that. That’s why we’re here to bring an offer.”

“And what would that be?”

“You. In The Authority. If you join us, you can have any opportunity you could ask for. We’ll even get you your deserved rematch for the Divas Championship with any qualifications that you desire. All it takes is for you to do what’s Best. For. Business.”

Stephanie’s words seemed to give you some interest, your thoughts hypnotized with visions of you under the faction. You raised your eyebrows with excitement but also anxiety. Were you willing to give away everything you achieved just because you’ve always dreamed to be champion? Were you going to fall trap to their words? Were you…going to turn heel?

Before you could speak, an angry Seth Rollins storms in to where you and the Authority were, demanding an answer from you.

“What the actual hell, Y/N?” he yelled. “Do you not understand who you’re dealing with? I’m Seth freakin’ Rollins!”

“AND?! You think I care?” you screamed back at him. “You cost me the match I’ve busted my ass for. And for what? That should’ve been ME with the championship! And I would’ve been champion right now if it wasn’t for you ruining it you son of a bitch!”

Your words echoed all through backstage, the audience cheering, chanting your name around the arena. The Authority were shocked with your recent change in behavior. You’ve never spoken like that before and it shocked many. You and Rollins began to stare each other down, both of you delivering cold stares to each other’s faces. You shook with absolute anger while staring him down. You hated him. He hated you. But the WWE Universe seemed to grab an interest with this heated moment between you two, hoping an intergender match would come to be to settle your new feud with the heavyweight champion.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

Present:

Another episode of Monday Night Raw had arrived. Tonight, you had a match with Paige to gain momentum to have your rematch with Nikki Bella for the Divas Championship. Seth Rollins, on the other hand, had a match with Randy Orton, after he betrayed him last week during a handicap match with Roman Reigns. The question was…where were you? And where was Seth Rollins? No one knew your whereabouts neither his. Anytime there was a text or call, neither of you answered. When Monday Night Raw started, Stephanie came out to make an address to the WWE Universe.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to Monday Night Raw! Tonight, there’s going to be matches with superstars you all love and new opportunities to be brought to the table. But, there is a huge problem. Y/N and your WWE World-heavyweight champion, Seth Rollins- “the WWE Universe booed to his name, making Stephanie laugh a bit. “They’re not here! We’ve been trying to get in contact with the two superstars and nothing has been done now. However, that doesn’t mean any changes. The Authority is confident that Rollins and Y/N WILL be here tonight. We’ll do everything we can to have them perform. With that said, ENJOY THE SHOW!”

The WWE Universe, including the staff and locker rooms, were confused as to why you and Seth were missing. You never missed any day away from Raw before. So why tonight?

The truth was you and Rollins were at the arena. However, what no one knew was that you and Seth were in his locker room, leaving hot breathy kisses all over each other as you bounced on his hard cock.

“F-fuck Seth…” you moaned, your breasts jiggling with each thrust. Seth had a tight grip on your ass while the other hand was around your hip. His groans making you even wetter.

“Good girl. Take every inch of my cock like the slut you are.” He muttered, his grip on your ass getting tighter, white knuckles forming. He was enjoying how you took his length, his tip always hitting your spot with each thrust.

“Y-you know…The Authority’s not going to like this.” You whined, not wanting him to stop fucking you like this. His thrusts were deep and slow, making sure your walls will remember his shape.

“Oh, shut up. They’re not going to do anything. Besides, this will be our little dirty secret.” He replied, his face going up to one of your breasts, roughly sucking on some skin. You gasped from how he sunk his teeth into your flesh, leaving bite marks and hickeys all over your breasts – you were lucky to have ring gear that didn’t show your breasts or cleavage.

“Fuck, baby…” He groaned “Why haven’t we been doing this before?” His hands now grab your ass as he thrusts a little faster. You threw your head back, covering your screams with one hand so neither of you would get caught.

“You…You know I still hate your guts, right?” you giggled, making Rollins deliver a hard slap across your ass, earning a whine from your lips.

“I hate you too…but why do I love this so damn much?” He asked with breathy moans, “You’re still a little brat. Don’t forget that.”

“I could care less…fuck right there…You’re still an asshole”

“I know, sweetheart. Now be quiet and take this dick like a good little bitch.”

As much as you both hated to admit it, you both drove each other crazy, sexually and in a weird sort of way romantically too. But that would’ve been way too soon. Besides what would the WWE Universe think if they found out about your hidden relationship? Seth Rollins, a total heel who’s also a huge asshole. You, an adored babyface who deserves to be champion. You two could never let them find out. Not now and not anytime soon.

You lost your thought when you felt another slap on your ass from Seth, his thrusts getting sloppy. You knew he was going to cum. You hope he came inside of you, to remind you about your secret. Only he could fuck you this good and make you never want to stop things with him. You’d do crazy shit for him if you wanted to.

“Baby…I’m getting close. I’m going to cum in you.” He growled as his thrusts get faster, earning high pitched moans from your lips. He fucks you way too good.

“M-Me too…” You were shaking, desperately to cum your stomach tightening for release.

“I know baby…Remember we got to be quiet. We don’t want no one finding this out do we?”

You shut him up by pressing your lips against his – muffled moans as he came in your pussy, you following him, his arms holding your hips down tightly as he rode out his orgasm. His warm cum leaking out of you made you beg for more. You stayed on top of him, his cock still inside of your cunt as you looked into his eyes, he gave you that same cocky smile like he did that night.

“Fuck, baby…You drained me like that. I don’t know if I’ll have enough energy for my match tonight.” He laughed, leaving another slap on your ass cheek. You giggled as you wiggled your ass, your cunt throbbing from how sensitive you were.

“Same here…How are we supposed to tell everyone where we were?” You asked, your breaths were hoarse.

“We don’t. And this stays between us. Understood?”

“Whatever you say, asshat.”

You and Seth looked into each other’s eyes, with a stare down, heavy breathing coming from the both of you. As you laid your head in the crook of his neck, he played with some strands of your hair, admiring you.

“You know…I been meaning to ask you. Are you still mad at me for costing you a title match?” he mocked.

“Hmm…maybe.” You chuckled, surprised that he recognized that he was wrong for that.

“How about…I take you out for dinner and eat your cunt as an apology?” he offered “Besides, we need to get ready for our matches.”

“Hm…Sounds like a plan” You replied.

You raised your head and smiled at him before giving him another kiss

“Even though we’re supposed to hate each other, I actually like you.”

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supernovafics · 4 months ago

Text

series masterlist | last part — next part

pairing: modern!college!steve harrington x fem!reader, bestfriend!eddie munson x fem!reader

word count: 4.1k words

warnings: explicit language, brief mention of being drunk, we kinda end on a bit of a cliffhanger in this one and i'm already so sorry about that 🫶🏾

summary: a night of meeting steve’s parents and trying to make a good impression and agreeing to something that you probably shouldn’t

CHAPTER SIX | ❝𝒌𝒆𝒆𝒑 𝒊𝒕 𝒔𝒊𝒎𝒑𝒍𝒆❞

Fall Semester 2015

You spent most of the morning replaying everything that happened last night. Most of it came back to you in fragments— you and Eddie leaving the obnoxious frat party and you actually ending up in your own dorm room for once because your roommate was already gone for Winter break.

But the kiss was immediately vivid to you.

It had ended just as abruptly as it started. Eddie’s lips were against yours for only a second before you two were getting bumped into again by a random person and subsequently pulling away from each other.

But, as brief and short as it was, it still happened, and all you could think when you woke up was that it had to mean something. Right?

Maybe this was finally the moment that you’d been waiting for. The perfect time to be honest and admit how you felt about him.

You both had been too drunk to talk about it properly last night. After the quickly interrupted kiss, you were once again saying that it would probably be best to leave and Eddie was nodding, hand finding yours and leading you out of the house and away from the party.

But you were, for the most part, sober now— the only lasting effect from last night was a dull headache— and you surprisingly didn’t feel all too scared to talk to him. Therefore, you were heading across the hall and knocking on his door before you could think better of it.

“Hey,” Eddie said when he opened his door, smiling at you. He had on a wrinkled t-shirt and sweatpants and was sporting the messiest bedhead that looked very cute to you. “I didn’t expect to see you until later. I thought we’d both be dead for most of the morning.”

“I can’t sleep. My head’s pounding, but I don’t feel like throwing up anymore so that’s a good sign,” You told him as you mindlessly played with a loose string on your t-shirt that looked just as wrinkled as his. “Did I wake you?”

“No, I can’t really sleep either,” Eddie answered and opened the door further so that you could step inside his room.

You sat at the foot of his small twin-sized bed and folded your legs under you, looking down at your hands instead of at Eddie walking over to you. “So, last night was pretty insane, right?”

“Yeah, I think we can both agree on no more frat parties,” He responded as he sat next to you.

You nodded. “First and last time.”

“Also, I barely remember anything that happened, so we should also agree on no more drinking whatever punch is given at parties.”

Instead of once again nodding and agreeing, you turned your head to look at him. “Really? Nothing?”

“I remember us getting there and then eventually leaving. Most of the stuff in between is a blur, honestly,” He shrugged. “What about you?”

That time you weren’t hesitating to nod along. “Yeah, same here. It’s all kinda blurry.”

He didn’t remember.

He didn’t remember the kiss.

He barely remembered the party at all.

For some reason, it felt easier to simply let it stay like that rather than inform him of something that his mind clearly told him to forget.

“I’m still driving you to the airport tonight, right?” Eddie asked, changing the subject and pulling you out of your scattered thoughts. Going home for the rest of the month until the start of the Spring semester was the farthest thing from your mind right then.

“Oh, yeah,” You sighed. “I completely forgot about that.”

“I’ll take that as you’re not excited to see your parents?”

“Not particularly, no,” You shook your head. “And I’ll just be seeing my dad during break because my mom is on a trip with her new boyfriend.”

“That sounds fun?”

You let out a laugh. “Once again, not really, no.”

He smiled at you. “You can always come hang out with me in my hometown during break. My uncle would be fine with you staying with us.”

“I really wish I could say yes to that.”

In a perfect world, you would’ve said yes to Eddie’s suggestion; canceled your flight, and spent the month with him in his small hometown. And in an even more perfect world, you would’ve still talked about the kiss with him even though he didn’t remember it. You also would’ve told him how you’d been feeling for the past few months instead of now feeling like you were right back to being stuck at square one.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

Spring Semester 2018

“Remember on game night when you said that you’re good at making people like you?” You abruptly asked Steve, and when he nodded in answer, you continued. “Well, I feel like I’m the complete opposite. So tell me everything that I need to know about your parents on this hour-long car ride so I can make sure they like me.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Steve said, shaking his head, and before you could protest his words, he kept talking. “But, okay, do you want me to be a thousand percent honest right now?”

“Will I want you to take me home if I say yes?” You asked as you smoothed out a nonexistent wrinkle on the dress you were wearing; a black dress that buttoned down the front and stopped just above your knee. You hoped it was a good enough choice for meeting Steve’s parents.

“Maybe.”

For a second, you considered telling him to not be honest with you— because maybe in this situation ignorance would actually be bliss— but you ultimately decided against it. “It’s fine, whatever, be honest.”

“They probably won’t like you because you’re not the daughter of one of their rich friends.”

“So this is a lose-lose situation no matter what?”

“Kinda, yeah,” He responded with a shrug. “But, it’s not like they’re gonna force me to break up with you or something. They’re just happy that I’m finally in a “serious” relationship, and that’s all that really matters.”

“Honestly, that makes me feel a little bit better,” You said as you leaned back against the passenger seat and actually became comfortable for the first time in the past ten minutes. “Okay, so what lies do I need to know? Like, what story did you tell them about how we got together? Or do we need to come up with one right now?”

“They won’t care about that.”

“Okay…” You responded, not exactly believing that a question as simple as that wouldn’t be asked, but you went along with what Steve was saying anyway. “So, any other lies? Things I should make sure to say to them, or things that I definitely shouldn’t say?”

“They don’t know about my History minor, so avoid mentioning that.”

The obvious follow-up question to his words sat on the tip of your tongue, but you hesitated. You wondered where the line was— the line that defined what you two were— and which side of it the question you wanted to ask him lied on. One side of it was obvious, two people pretending to date each other for their own reasons, but the other side still confused you a bit; this weird group project analogy that was still stuck in your head and felt nowhere close to a friendship because you still didn’t know that much about him aside from the basics.

The question you wanted to ask him was definitely more of a question that you’d ask a friend and you weren’t sure if it truly mattered for the fake dating side of things, but you decided to test it anyway because you wanted to know the answer.

“Why haven’t you told them about that?”

Steve hesitated too, just for a second, and in that quick moment you wondered if you shouldn’t have asked that question, but then he was answering you. “They would think it’s dumb and a waste of time so it’s easier to just not talk about it with them.”

“If they’d hate you for having a History minor, they’ll definitely hate me for being an English major who wants to teach.”

He took a quick glance at you. “You want to teach?”

“Yeah, I think about it sometimes,” You shrugged. “I’d really love to write, though. And yes, I know exactly how pretentious that sounds.”

Steve shook his head. “It doesn’t sound pretentious.” He paused for a second. “Actually, yeah, it does, but coming from you it’s in a good way.”

“Thanks, I think,” You responded, laughing a bit.

He smiled at you. “You’re welcome, I think.”

For the most part, that was how the rest of the drive went. You asked whatever question came to mind involving his parents that felt important to ask to make sure that tonight went well enough, and aside from that, things stayed quiet.

Somehow, it wasn’t until you were standing outside of his childhood home— which was huge and you tried your hardest not to admire it so obviously— that you realized that you didn’t even know his parent’s names, and Steve was answering you with a quick, “Tom and Anne,” before you two were walking inside.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“So, I’d love to know how you two met.”

Your eyes immediately met Steve’s across the table and you gave him the briefest “I told you so” look before turning to his mom.

You took a moment to think about how to answer her question— how elaborate the story should be and what exact lie you should say— but then you decided to simply say the first thing that came to mind. “Steve’s in a class with one of my friends. He thought we’d be a good match, so he introduced us.”

It wasn’t that far from the truth so the words easily fell from your lips.

Anne smiled at that. “Oh, that’s nice.”

You smiled back because it felt like the right thing to do and then looked back down at your food, silently willing the next hour to go by faster.

The initial meeting had been easy enough. There was a quick hug with Steve’s mom and a handshake with his dad, and a forced enthusiastic smile on your face to mask your nervousness. You were reminded of when you met Eddie’s Uncle Wayne, and you only thought about it because that had felt like much more of a chill and fun introduction.

But as the night went on, Steve’s parents seemed to actually like you and it was hard to tell if that was completely true or if they were just really good at pretending; both options seemed equally plausible to you. Even though Steve had basically said that there was no point in trying to make his parents like you, you still couldn’t help but try to make sure that things went well.

They’d asked you so much about yourself that it felt as if they were interrogating you or that you were interviewing for their approval; approval that truly didn’t even matter, but you still weirdly found yourself wanting it, for some reason.

You did a lot more lying than you had expected to do— and you’d later wonder if it was dumb to not expect that— but the lying mainly consisted of a lot of pretending and acting like you knew stuff that you didn’t. This night only further proved to you that you really didn’t know Steve at all. You learned that he used to play basketball in high school and even Freshman year of college, and apparently, he had been really good at it. His dad randomly mentioned it and you figured that that was something that a girlfriend would’ve already known about so you simply nodded along when he talked about Steve’s many past accomplishments with the sport.

You also nodded along when Anne said, “Has Steve told you about his cousin’s wedding that’s coming up soon?”

“Oh, yes, he mentioned it to me a few times.”

“Great, so you already know that it falls perfectly on your guys’ spring break this year,” She said, and you continued to nod, pretending as if this wasn’t completely new information to you. “You should come to it too.”

You didn’t get the chance to even think of a response before Steve was jumping in. “She can’t come.”

Anne looked at him just for a second and then looked back at you. “Are you sure you can’t? We’ll pay for your flight and everything.”

“Oh, um…” You trailed off, unsure of how to say no in the nicest way possible. You knew why Steve had immediately tried to shut this wedding thing down— because spring break was weeks after you two had planned to stop fake dating— but you obviously couldn’t use that as the reason to say no to his mom right then.

“She already has plans for that week,” Steve said, saving you.

It wasn’t that good of a save, though, because Anne persisted on, eyes still on you and a smile on her face. “Oh, I’m sure plans can be changed. This wedding is gonna be a great trip, and wouldn’t you two want to spend spring break together?”

The question sat in the air for only the briefest of moments.

“Yes, I’d love to come,” You blurted because it felt easier to say yes in this moment instead of continuing to try to decline the offer since Steve’s mom was seemingly not taking that for an answer. You still had no idea where exactly this wedding even was, and you decided that that would be the first thing you’d ask Steve once you two were back in his car. “If you’re sure it’s not really short notice.”

“No, no, it’s fine. Tom and I will handle everything. We just need to get you a flight. You can obviously stay with Steve in the room that’s already been booked for him at the resort.”

Hearing the mention of a resort should’ve helped you narrow down the potential places this wedding was set to be, but it only further confused you. However, you smiled and hoped that masked all of your bewilderment right then. “Sounds great. Thank you so much.”

You looked away from Anne and your eyes met Steve’s just for a second. It was the briefest look shared between you two that said everything and nothing all at once. And then you were looking away and finishing what was barely left on your plate so that this night could end sooner rather than later— before you somehow accidentally agreed to spend Thanksgiving with them in nine months.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

“I’ll try to get you out of this stupid wedding thing,” Was the first thing Steve said to you when you two finally left his house and got into his car.

You’d barely known his mom for two hours, but the thought of that actually happening felt pretty impossible to you.

“Do you really think that you can make that happen?”

He sighed. “Probably not.”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” You told him, and you were honestly surprised that you were able to be so normal about this because it actually was a bit of a “big deal.” And then you realized that you were attempting to convince yourself that this was fine as much as you were trying to convince him. “We can change the rules a little and just end things once spring break is over instead of when we originally planned to end it. What’s two extra weeks? Unless you’re already sick of me and are counting down the days until all of this is over.”

Steve didn’t say anything in response, but he did quickly glance at you, giving you the most deadpan look you’d probably ever seen. Which only made you laugh until you remembered something.

“Where is this wedding even gonna be?”

“Mexico.”

“I guess I’d be an idiot if I gave up a free trip to Mexico.”

“You’re underestimating how annoyingly intense my family is. This isn’t going to feel like a vacation.”

“Cool, great, now I’m a little scared,” You said, only slightly joking with your words. “But, it’ll be fine, and this will just further prove to your parents how “serious” we are.”

After a second, seemingly processing your words, Steve nodded. “Yeah, that’s true.”

It started raining then— soft pelts hitting against the windshield and the wipers turning on automatically— which felt like a sign of something, but you had no idea what.

“I also don’t have to go if you don’t want me to,” You said, and things probably would’ve been a lot easier if Steve just said exactly that and if things stayed exactly according to what you two had decided on a week ago.

“It’s not that. I just really think you’re gonna hate this whole thing.”

“Tonight honestly wasn’t completely terrible,” You told him. “Stressful? Kinda, yeah. But, if the trip is pretty much just gonna be a repeat of this dinner, I can deal with that.”

You hadn’t even processed what exactly you were signing up for— a weeklong trip in a different country with a guy and his family you didn’t know. It would hit you a lot later; mainly once you mentioned it to Robin, Vickie, and Talia, and then also Eddie.

“Okay,” Steve said and you wished that you could actually see him right then because you felt as if there was a lot more being said with the simple word. But then you were realizing that even if it wasn’t dark and rainy and even if he was looking at you, you still probably wouldn’t be able to successfully read him. After all, you’d only known him for a little over a week. “Feel free to back out at any time, though.”

“Got it,” You said, but you wondered if your mind would change and if you’d want to do that. “Why do you think she even wants me to come?”

“She likes you.”

“Actually likes me or is pretending that she does?”

“Honestly, I can’t really tell.”

The rain only got harder as Steve continued driving, which you were actually glad for because the sound of it helped drown out the silence that began to sit between you two and it made the quiet feel okay. But, that feeling was very short-lived because the random storm started making things entirely too complicated.

“I can just take you home and bring your clothes some other time,” Steve suggested. The rain was pelting harshly against the windshield as the two of you sat in his car in the parking lot of his apartment building.

“That would be great, but I can’t think of any sort of story that would make me coming home in completely different clothes make sense.”

Earlier, when Talia asked what you and Steve had planned for the night, you made the mistake of saying that you and him were going bowling— it was the first thing that came to your mind and you regretted it immediately but couldn’t find a way to backtrack. Because of that mess up, you knew that you couldn’t leave the apartment for the pretend bowling date in your “meeting the parents” outfit, so you changed at Steve’s place instead and your original clothes were still there.

“Also, we’re already here now, so I should just do it.”

“Okay,” He said, but neither of you made any move to step out of his car, even though he had already turned it off. Somehow, it was silently agreed that you’d wait things out for a second longer, and maybe the skies would miraculously clear.

“I still can’t believe that you said that we were going bowling.”

“I have no idea why that was the first thing that came to my head.”

“Are you any good at it?”

“Not at all,” You didn’t hesitate to answer. “But, skee-ball, on the other hand. That’s a completely different story.”

“Those two games are not similar at all.”

“If you squint, they kind of are.”

“Barely.”

“Shh, just let me have this one,” You said, and Steve let out a laugh as he held up his hands in mock surrender.

Things became quiet for a moment and you both continued to listen to the rain, which didn’t seem as if it was letting up anytime soon.

He turned to look at you. “Should we just make a run for it?”

You wanted to say no but decided against it when you realized that you two would probably be sitting in Steve’s car all night otherwise. “Yeah.”

There was no countdown, and instead, you both abruptly stepped out of the car and then ran the short distance to the entrance of Steve’s building, still getting soaked in the process.

Once you were inside his apartment, you toed off your shoes by the front door before heading to Steve’s bathroom where you had left your clothes earlier.

“You want a towel?” You heard his voice through the door and at first you were simply nodding as you started unbuttoning your dress before realizing that he obviously couldn’t see your answer.

“Yes!” You opened the door a little bit and his arm poked through, gray towel in hand, and you grabbed it from him. “Thanks.”

When you emerged from the bathroom— changed back into your jeans and dark sweater— you saw Steve in the kitchen, leaning back against the small island and eyes on his phone. He was also out of his wet clothes and changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants.

You walked over to the windows and noticed just how insane things still were outside. “It would be dumb to drive in that right now, right?”

You kind of hoped that he would disagree with you, but he didn’t.

“Yeah, we can wait it out for a bit if you want.”

“Okay.”

You found yourself on his couch and he joined you moments later, suggesting that you two watch something for the time being and you agreed because there wasn’t anything else to do.

It was a moment that was objectively normal, probably one of the most normal things that you two could and had ever done with each other, but doing this wasn’t a part of the normal that you and Steve had created.

Conversations with him came easy if you two were talking about this whole fake dating thing and the random details and tidbits that came along with it. If there wasn’t anything to say involving that, you two simply didn’t talk. Once again, the group project analogy felt even more valid at this moment.

Steve started playing an episode from a random season of a show that you both had already seen before and didn’t mind rewatching until the rain calmed down. You were only ten minutes in when your phone started ringing in the back pocket of your jeans.

You pulled it out and stood up from the couch, seeing Robin’s name on your screen.

You walked back over to the windows, the rain still had not let up in the slightest, and then answered the call. “Hey.”

“Hey, where are you right now?”

“At Steve’s place,” You answered. “I’m gonna head home soon, though.”

“Don’t,” She said, and before you could ask why, she continued. “We just lost power here because of the storm so you should just stay at Steve’s for the night.”

“Are you guys good there?”

“Yeah, we just lit a bunch of candles,” Robin told you and then laughed. “It’s feeling very witchy in here right now. I wouldn’t be surprised if Talia suggested doing a seance.”

“Please don’t do that,” You immediately responded. “I’d rather not come back to a haunted apartment.”

“I can’t make any promises. Talia can be very persuasive,” She said. “Anyway, see you tomorrow. Have fun, but not too much. And use protection!”

You groaned. “Robin.”

“Bye!” She hung up before you could say anything else.

You pocketed your phone in your jeans again and started heading back over to the couch.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, turning to look at you.

“Yeah, it was just Robin. She told me that the power just went out in the apartment,” You told him, and then you were in the middle of thinking about how to tell him that you needed to stay here for the night when there was a sudden crack of thunder and the power abruptly went out, leaving his apartment pitch black. “Wow, perfect timing.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。

next part!

taglist (lmk if you want to be added or taken off<333); @eddiernunson , @loulouloueh , @the-aster , @blckburd , @totally-bogus-timelady , @yujyujj , @irhdifartzamfyaa , @mochminnie , @munsonssweets , @blckbrrybasket , @xprloki , @definitionwanderlust , @dwcode , @sun-fiower-seed , @keerysfolklore , @damon-loves-pie , @lodeddiperrodrick

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fic #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington series #steve harrington x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #bestfriend!eddie munson #stranger things fluff #stranger things fic #stranger things imagine

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darkmagyk · 16 days ago

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percabeth baby fic/teacher au!

“Constantinople.” Jason said. Ms. Dare nodded, meaning Jason had gotten the question right. He glanced at Dr. Chase to see if she had noticed, if she would give the little nod of approval that all guys on the Jupiter School quiz bowl team craved.

But Dr. Chase wasn’t even looking at them. She and Mr. Jackson, the Juno’s Academy coach, were talking in a low voice, Mr. Jackson showing Dr. Chase something on her phone that was making her frown.

“The 2015 hit movie King of Sparta features this Hollywood leading man?” Mr. Pace asked.

Jason knew this one, he had seen all 4 King of Sparta movies…

Piper, the cutest of the Juno girls, rang in first, and hung her head even as she said “Tristan McLean.”

“Correct.” Ms. Dare said. She glanced down at her tablet to look at the next question, but she was stopped because Mr. Jackson had walked back over to their quiz bowl scrimmage, and put a hand on her shoulder. He leaned down and whispered something to both Ms. Dare and Mr. Pace. Who both nodded.

“I’ll be back,” He said, mostly addressing his Juno students. “I have to go run an errand really quickly.”

Then he left. But it meant Dr. Chase could redirect her attention to the team.

Mr. Jackson was not back through another 2 rounds. But Jason got the coveted Dr. Chase nod 3 times for answering the math questions correctly.

They were nearly tied up, though Jason had just face palmed when Connor had answered “What city was helped by the French, Spanish, and French again before being sold to the United States?” with “Montreal.” Much to Frank and Hazel, who got the answer “New Orleans” correct, chagrin, when Mr. Jackson came back. He was not alone.

In one hand he held a baby carrier were a sleeping infant in a blue onesie and blue beanie, wrapped in a blue knit blanket was laying. On the other side, a slightly older child, but still probably a toddler, was resting on his hip. And trailing after him was a slightly older girl, maybe 4 or 5.

“Sorry, everyone,” He said, “babysitter had an emergency.”

“Isn’t your babysitter Fred?” Mr. Pace asked.

Mr. Jackson nodded.

“What kind of emergency do history professors have?” Ms. Dare asked.

Mr. Jackson shrugged, “Well, everyone,” He nodded to the teams, “this is Junie,”

The oldest girl waved, but then ran to Ms. Dare, giving her a hug. Which might have confirmed the rumor he had heard from Reyna and Hazel, that Mr. Jackson and Ms. Dare were a couple, if not for the fact that Junie then immediately also hugged Mr. Pace.

“Lucie,” Mr. Jackson said. Setting the very very blonde toddler down on the floor. She stood on a second of slightly unsteady legs, before she found her balance and waved with a wide grin, adding “Hi.”

“And hopefully Sofie will stay asleep.” He slung a bag, a diaper bag Jason guessed, off his shoulder, and started opening it, digging out some duplo blocks and a coloring book and some crayons. With a little bit of effort, and Dr. Chase’s help, the older girls were set up in two of the desks, with the toys, and then they refocused on the practice.

“What three Roman gods made up the Capitoline Triad?”

Oh, good, Jason knew this one. He hit his buzzer.

“Jupiter, Juno, and Minerva.” Everyone looked over where the oldest girl. Junie, was grinning at them, having answered the question.

“Sweetie,” Mr. Jackson said, “this is practice for the big kids. Why don’t you finish coloring a picture for my desk.”

Jason glanced to the back corner of the room where Mr. Jackson’s desk was, and now he could see what looked like a dozen children’s drawing and coloring pages.

“But I’m right,” She said.

“You are,” Ms. Dare agreed, not hiding her smile at all.

“Let’s keep going,” Dr. Chase said.

And then Mr. Pace asked his next question.

“Falling on December 20th or 21st, what is the shortest day of the year?”

“Winter Solstice.”

“Junie,” Mr. Jackson said again, “if you answer all the questions, they students can’t learn.”

“Ok,” She said. Going back to her coloring.

Ms. Dare turned to the next question, “Finished in 1936, this public works project was one of many used to hire people during the great depression.”

Jason paused, he knew this one, it was on the tip of his tongue. Leo’s buzzer beat him to it.

“Hoover Dam.” Mr. Jackson’s daughter said.

“Annabeth Jackson,” And that was Dr. Chase, who Jason knew’s first name was Annabeth. It was an unusual name. Had Mr. Jackson named his daughter after Dr. Chase? “It’s ok to know you’re smart. You don’t have to prove it.”

“Like mother, like daughter.” Ms. Dare joked. Mr. Pace laughed, Dr. Chase shot her a glare.

“Next question.” Mr. Jackson offered.

“Right, yeah,” Mr. Pace read the next question, “What name could you give to an Empire that lasted from 1299 to 1919, or to a small piece of upholstered furniture.”

Oh, that one was easy, too.

“Otto Min.” It wasn’t Junie Jackson who spoke this time. It was the younger one. Lucie. She waved when she saw everyone was looking at her.

Dr. Chase sighed, but Ms. Dare and Mr. Pace broke into a giant about of laughter.

“It’s ok,” Mr. Jackson said, patting Dr. Chase on the shoulder. “She’s just jealous they’ll be on my team when they get older.”

“We’ll win, Daddy,” Junie announced.

“Absolutely,” Mr. Jackson said.

“Did you marry me just to create the ultimate quiz bowl champions?” Dr. Chase asked Mr. Jackson.

“Yep,” Mr. Jackson said.

“I knew it.” Piper announced. She turned to her team, “you all owe me $20.”

#percy jackson #percabeth #percabeth fic #annabeth chase #pjo #my fic #asks

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imaginaryf1shots · 7 months ago

Text

My Girls (XI) | Max Verstappen

WC: 7.6K

Driver!OC x Max Verstappen

Summery: Cecilia Hansson daughter of a Swedish billionaire, a race car driver, with a dream of making it big in Formula 1. However she has a few secrets that may hurt her as women are disliked in the sport.

Series Warnings: google translated french, dutch, cursing, child abandonment, absent father, drinking, car accidents, Jos Verstappen, misogyny, Christian horner (tell me if i missed anything)

AN: The next chapter will be the last one 🙂

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Previous | Next

He Who Must Not Be Named

It was a normal day in MonacoIt was a normal day in Monaco. Adeline was home alone for the day. Her husband was in Sweden for work with Laurent. Cecilia was off racing with Nathalie and Max. Adeline was relaxing a bit before heading out to meet her friends for lunch. Adeline is a graceful, soft-spoken woman. Her early life was hard, but when she married Börje, she married up and now lives a life of luxury. Her husband likes to pamper her and give her everything she ever dreamed of.

When the doorbell rang Adeline was confused, she wasn't expecting anyone or anything, her mind went to how sometimes Cecilia orders stuff to their house if she doesn't want Max to see it or they weren't there and didn't want anyone to get in their apartment.

Opening the door she was rendered speechless, here stood the man that she once welcomed into her own, the man she treated like family, a man that she treated like a son something he never experience, the man her family showed so much love to, here stood the man that caused her daughter so much anguish and hurt but gave her the best thing in her life.

“It’s good to see you Adeline.” The man had a smirk on his face, his hands in his pockets and his voice cocky. Adeline had to blink a couple of times and swallow before she was able to get her voice back.

”Mathew, what are you doing here?” Last she saw him was in 2015 and it wasn’t on good terms.

”I came to see Nathalie.” Mathew said and stuck his head inside looking around, where all this attitude came from, she had no idea. He wasn’t like this when he was with Cecilia, the nerve of him turning up at her doorsteps 7 years after his daughter was born and asking for her. “Won’t you invite me in?”

”No.” Adeline said and held the door tighter, she was blocking his way in, the usually nice and polite woman doesn’t really hate anyone, she holds no hate in her heart, but, Mathew, he’s the exception. She holds so much hate and resentment towards him, all those feelings that she gained seeing how heartbroken her daughter was when he broke up with her and chose not to be a part of Nathalie’s life, before she was even born. all those feelings that went away with years came back once she saw his face. “And you can’t see Nathalie as well.”

”Why not? She’s my daughter.” The audacity of this man, Adeline frowns and scoffs.

”I’m surprised you’ve remembered, but she’s not your daughter and she’s not here.” Adeline told him. “Good day to you, but please don’t come back.”

Adeline closed the door in his face and even locked it for good measure, she had to take a few deep breaths to calm her heart, seeing him unsettled her. Why is he back? Why is he asking about Nathalie? What game is he playing?

Adeline plops down on her sofa, and opens her phone and presses for her contacts before she stops, who does she call? Her husband, who is on a business trip and will take his plane home? Her daughter, who is busy with the last couple races of the season? Both are working and will get affected by this, it takes her a surprisingly long time to decide who to call. She calls neither of them, instead she calls Laurent first.

”Bonjour, maman.” Laurent answers as he always does, he’s always the fastest person to pick up her calls.

”Laurent.” Was all it took for her son to know that there’s something going on, his mother doesn’t call him by his name a lot, it’s always a nickname or amour, never Laurent.

”What’s wrong? Did something happen? Are you hurt?” She hears movement in the background as Laurent panics.

“No, no I’m fine.” She reassures him before she sighs. “Is your dad around?”

”He’s in a meeting, if you want I can go get him though.”

“No, I wanted to talk to you first.”

”What’s going on, maman? You’re scaring me.” Laurent sounded beyond worried.

”Mathew came asking for Nathalie.” The line went silent after Adeline managed to get those words out, both needed a moment to come to terms with what Adeline said, even to herself it sounded out of this world.

”Mathew? as in…” Laurent had no idea what to call him, he’s not Nathalie’s dad, but he’s not just Cecilia’s ex as well.

”Oui.” Adeline felt a headache coming, her day is ruined and her family’s day is about to be as well.

“Did you tell Cece?” Laurent asked, he wanted to assess the situation first before he said or did anything.

”No, I called you first and I was thinking of telling Max, he’s going to be the calmer one out of the two.” Adeline said walking her son through her thought process. “I thought it’s the best thing to do, and you can tell your father, he’ll be very angry about it especially since I’m here alone, I don’t even know how they allowed him to come up without calling me first.”

”Yeah, he’s going to have a word with the security, rightfully so.” Laurent isn’t amused with the security, their family has lived in that house since before he can remember, and his father takes their safety and security very seriously. “I think calling Max is the best thing, but wait until after the race today, I’ll tell papa.”

”Okay, but do tell him I’m alright, and that nothing happened.”

”I will, but I’m sure he’ll call you straight after anyways.”

“That’s true, bye mon amour.”

”Bye, maman.”

Adeline waits until the race is over and she's sure that they finished debrief and all their duties before she calls Max. Max doesn’t pick up the first time, making Adeline nervous, her leg bouncing up and down. The second time he declines but he calls her back not even 5 minutes later.

”Hello.” Max’s voice greets her.

”Hello, Max, is this a good time for us to talk?” Adeline asked, aware that just because he picked up doesn’t mean he’s not busy.

”Yeah, yeah, it’s fine, but Cecilia isn’t with me.” Max was in the car being driven back to the hotel, Nathalie and Cecilia already left, since she finished earlier than he did.

”No, I wanted to talk to you.” Adeline’s voice was a dead giveaway that something happened, she didn’t sound like her usual self at all.

”Did something happen?” Max asked frowning, Adeline took a moment to answer him, saying it the second time hasn’t made it easier for her.

”I’m sorry to be telling you this now, especially after you won today-“

”Look, whatever you need to tell me, you can say it, it’s not my first win.” Max wasn’t cocky, but this had to be big for her to call him twice and want to talk to him and not Cecilia, his mind filled with ideas about what could possibly be wrong.

“I didn’t know if to call you and tell you or call Cecilia, but I think you’ll be calmer than her and then you can judge how she is before you tell him, but Mathew came today and he wanted to see Nathalie.” Once more the line went silent but only for a moment.

”Mathew? Who's Math-“ Max stopped himself once he realised who Adeline was talking about. “Cecilia’s ex? That Mathew?”

“I’m afraid so.” Adeline sighed and closed her eyes.

“And he asked to see Nathalie?” Max asked, sounding deathly calm.

“Yes.”

”Did he ask about Cecilia?”

”No.”

”Did he say why?”

”No, just that she’s his daughter and he wants to see her.” Max scoffed at the words.

”Like hell he is.” Max muttered, his jaw clenching. “Are you okay? I know you were alone today.”

”I’m fine, don't worry, Börje will come by today or tomorrow morning, I think.” Adeline assured him.

“That’s good, I’ll tell Cecilia, don’t worry about that.” Max was battling so many emotions inside himself right now, but he had to be calm and he had to tell his girlfriend first before they could do anything. It won’t be pretty and it won’t be nice but he has to be the one to tell her. He says his goodbyes to Adeline and spends the rest of the ride debating and thinking about how he’ll tell Cecilia. He tried to keep his thoughts from wandering and going to dark spots as much as he can, It won’t do him or anyone else any good.

By the time he reached the hotel, he had everything planned out, what to say and what their next steps should be. However the moment he walked in it all went out the window.

“Daddy!” The arms of his beautiful 7 year old wrapped around his middle, head buried in his stomach. “What took you so long?”

Max as always pulled her up, it doesn't matter to him that she's gotten too old and heavy to be carried. He works out, he's strong and as long as he's capable he'll carry her. “Sorry liefje, the debrief took longer than we expected.”

“Its alright daddy, mommie already showered and everything.” Nathalie said and started telling him everything that's been done since she last saw him. Her every move. Cecilia’s every move.

“You little snitch, are you going to tell him how many times I've been to the bathroom.” Cecilia teased her daughter, kissing her head and Max's lips as she passed them.

“Three times.” Nathalie said proudly, making Cecilia laugh, Max managed to only give her a smile.

“We have to talk about privacy and secrets and what to tell and what not to tell.” Cecilia said from the living room part of the hotel suite, Max made it to the bedroom. He already showered at the track, he placed Nathalie on the bed and went to his suitcase to get his clothes before he went to the bathroom to change.

“But we don't keep secrets from daddy!” Nathalie exclaimed, flabbergasted that her mum would think to not tell her dad something.

“I guess not.” Cecilia said and came back with a water bottle, she kissed her daughter’s cheek, and plopped down beside her on the bed. “When do you have the call with your friend again?” Nathalie scrambled off the bed almost tripping as she rushed to the living room where her iPad is. Her friend and her scheduled a zoom call, something that she started to do when she's with her parents for a week or two. Max came out of the bathroom in a pair of shorts and shirt. He said nothing to Cecilia but sat on the bed with his back to her. Cecilia sat up and crawled towards him, she gave him a back hug, her front pressed to his back, her arms wrapping around him.

“You're quiet.” Cecilia says and presses small kisses to his neck and the parts of his jaw she could reach, Max closed his eyes enjoying the feeling of her lips feathering up and down on his skin, making him shiver. “What's wrong?”

“Cecilia.” She instantly stops and pushes herself away from her boyfriend. Max turned to look at her, she looked like he electrocuted her.

“Are you angry at me or something?” She asks him, in his eyes she looked small and confused.

“What? No, why would you think that?” Max was now confused, why did she think he's angry with her.

“You called me Cecilia, we're alone and you never call me Cecilia.” Realisation dawned on Max, and despite what he's about to tell her, he smiles.

“No, schatje, I'm not mad, not at you at least.” Max explained and took her hand in his, he gave her a squeeze.

“Amor, What happened.?”

“Mathew went to your parents house today.” Max decided to drop the bomb on her, Cecilia recoiled from him and was off the bed in a second.

“What? Why?” All colour drained out of her.

“Cilia, calm down.” Max followed her off the bed and around it, Cecilia was already shaking. He glanced out the door and saw Nattie occupied with her friend talking animatedly. “Just listen to me.” Cecilia gave a hesitant nod and took a deep shaky breath. “Your mum called me, he went to your family house and asked for Thalia.”

“That fucker, why the hell is he asking about her?” Cecilia’s anger is very evident, she's always been known for being calm, collected and patient. The Ice Queen of Motorsport, and a soft hearted woman behind the scenes.

“I don't know, but we're finishing the season next week, your dad is back with your mum and he signed away his rights. He has no grounds to stand on, if he wants to do anything.” Max said and Cecilia shook her head no, she’s not satisfied, this affects her and Nathalie and even Max. It’ll cause so much trouble if he shows his face again.

”No, no Max, it’s not okay, he agreed to not show up again, he agreed to never see her and to not be a part of her life, what if he wants to be a part of her life? What if he wants to take her from me? I can’t-I can’t-“

”Cilia, Schatje, please calm down.” Max cups her face and her eyes settle on his and fill with tears. “Don’t jump to conclusions, we have no idea why he wants to see her, and he has no right to see her, so he won’t, we’re not letting him, okay?”

”Okay, yeah, you’re right.” Max pulls Cecilia in for a hug and kisses her head, as she always does when she needs comfort Cecilia tries to hide herself in Max.

“We’re a team, you’re not going through this alone and Nathalie is mine.” Max whispers and holds her tighter. “I’d be dead before he takes her from me.”

”Thank you amour.”

”No need to thank me, we’re in this together.”

Max goes on to win the last race of the season with Cecilia coming P3, Max won the world championship a few races back, a race that saw him as 3rd time World Champion.

The couple hadn’t been in Monaco since they heard about Mathew and he hadn’t turned up to the Hannsson household. Börje had a word with the security team at the apartment building and there has been a change in the staff.

The family calmed down when it was two weeks after the final race and there was no trace of the British man. It seemed like he’s not in Monaco and that maybe he just winded them up for the fun of it and that he doesn’t actually want to see Nathalie.

It was a random Tuesday when Max, Charles and Lando(who was here for the week before he’ll start his winter activities) met up for some reason or the other, the trio’s relationship is ever closer because of their connections to the female driver. Something that the fans love, especially the Lestappen shippers.

”Max Verstappen!” A male voice called for the RedBull driver while they were walking around looking for the shop Cecilia told them about, before they were going to head back for a late lunch at the Hansson-Verstappen household. The trio instinctively turned around to look at the man, expecting a fan but he didn’t look like it.

”Yes.” Max answers confused, it took Charles a moment to realise who he is but the moment he did you could see it on his face.

“Mathew?” Charles was the one to say, and Max looked at him frowning before he looked back at the man who he now knows is Mathew, his eyes take in the British man, the man that caused so much trouble in Cecilia’s life, the man that donated his sperm to bring his daughter in this world, the man he wants to punch so bad for coming and asking about Nathalie.

”I’ve been hoping to run into you.” Mathew said and walked closer so he was standing in front of Max, his face in a smug grin, hands in his pockets looking like he has no care in the world.

“And here I was hoping you’d died in a ditch or something.” Max replied smoothly, Lando choked on his breath, he has no idea who Mathew is and why Charles and Max have this reaction to him, Mathew chuckles looking amused.

“Nice one.” Mathew runs his eyes over to the other two drivers, before they settle on Charles. “It’s been a while, Charles.”

”Not long enough.” Charles muttered, Charles is a nice person by nature, he’s never not nice but here he is Lando seeing him angry at a person for no reason that he knows of.

”Looks like getting into Formula 1 changed you.” Mathew gave them a condescending look and rolled his eyes.

“What do you want? Get on with it.” Charles said wanting this interaction to be over already, he doesn't know about Mathew turning up to the Hansson household and asking for his goddaughter.

”Same thing I asked for when I met Adeline, I want my daughter.” Mathew shrugged as if that’s the easiest most simplest thing ever, and he’s not asking for a daughter he left and knows nothing about.

”First, she’s not your daughter, second, it’s Mrs. Hansson to you, third, you better piss off and get out of our faces and our lives.” Max said and took a step closer, his tone was not to be taken lightly, Mad Max may be something of the past but when he’s pushed he’s right there. Lando then realised what’s going on, he realised who Mathew is. Charles also realises that Mathew went and asked for Nathalie, another reason for him to not be nice or kind to Mathew.

“Huh, no can do I’m afraid.” Mathew’s grin was gone, and the dark side of him came to the surface. “Look, just because you’re fucking her mother, doesnt make you her father, she’s mine, her DNA is half off mine.”

”And just because you donated your sperm doesnt make her yours.” They’re face to face now, both waiting for something small to put their hands on the other. “Where have you been the last 7 years? Before that when Cecilia was pregnant, where were you? I bet you were drunk off your ass sleeping with women, getting them pregnant before leaving them for someone else, how many children do you have running out there without a father? huh? A lot I bet, listen here Mathew, Nathalie is mine, and you better not ask for her or even think about her, because you’re never seeing her.”

“We’ll see when Cecilia sees me what she says about it, I bet she’ll just spread her-“ Max didn’t let him finish before he was swinging his fest and punching Mathew with all he got, in a second he was holding his shirt and swinging for another punch, Mathew took a moment to swing his fest. The other two drivers didn't have enough time to separate the two before they both landed a few punches in.

By the time they were pulled off each, Max's fist was bloody, his face bruised with a split lip. Both men were heaving, Charles pushed Mathew away making stumble and fall, but he didn't care, he helped Lando push and move Max away from the annoying Brit.

“Come on, mate.” Lando stresses, Max is not cooperating with the two drivers, they have to use their full strength to pull him away from the sight of Mathew. Max is boiling with anger, Lando who came in with Max drives the dutchman's car while Charles follows in his Ferrari.

When they reach the apartment Max opens the door and storms inside, he ignores Cecilia’s calls and everyone else and heads to the bedroom. Lando comes in followed by Charles, Cecilia’s standing there looking at them confused, Alex also looks confused but she stayed with Nattie on the living room floor playing with her barbies and their sports cars.

“What happened?” Cecilia asked her friends worried.

“Uh, we saw Mathew.” Charles says softly and her heart drops, she crosses her arms and shuffles her legs.

“They got in a fight.” Lando adds after a beat of silence.

“Fuck.” Cecilia mutters and pushes her hair back, stressing.

“Look, Cece, we can take Nattie for the day and you and Max can talk about it.” Charles offers and she turns to look at Nathalie before looking back at her friends, Lando gives her a nod and she sighs.

“If it's not too much trouble.” Cecilia place a hand on Charles arm in gratitude.

“Hey, she's my goddaughter.” Charles offers her a smile and pulls her in for a quick hug before he heads to the living room with an enthusiastic. “Who wants to have a sleepover at Charlie's house?”

“Mathew really said some stuff to piss Max off.” Lando told her and she wants to strangle Mathew, he came into their lives and is messing it up. “Max was angrier than I've ever seen him before… And that's saying a lot.”

“Thank you Lando.” Cecilia say and also gives him a hug. Charles is already helping Nattie pack an overnight bag. Cecilia says goodbye to your friends and daughter, Alex gives her a long hug before they head out.

Opening the door to their shared bedroom, the only source of light is from the windows, Max is sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, his knuckles in his right hand are bruised and busted.

“Max.” Cecilia says and goes to sit by his side, her hand lands on his back, moving up and down. “Amour, please look at me.”

Max turned his head to look at her still leaning forwards, Cecilia grimaced when she saw his face, it’s already bruised. Cecilia went to the kitchen and got some ice before she rushed back, Max was sitting in the exact position he was when she left him, placing the ice on his cheek, the only reaction he gave her was closing his eyes.

”Mon amour, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Cecilia whispers her eyes filled with tears, her ex taunted Max, he hit him, Mathew is causing Max anguish and she feels guilty for it all.

”No, no, it’s not your fault, you don’t say sorry okay?” Max was out of his mind, he’s still so pissed off and the last thing he wants is for Cecilia to feel guilty in any way shape or form. “This is his fault, and his fault only. That asshole knew what he was doing.”

Tears gather in her eyes and she bites her bottom lip, her eyes focusing on the ice she's holding to Max’s face. Max takes a deep breath and sighs, they sit in silence for a few long minutes, there's so much emotion, the tension is high.

“Did Nattie go with them?” Max asked breaking the silence, Cecilia nods her head and Max removes the ice towel From his face gently taking her hands in his. “Come on.” He says so very softly, Max is always soft with her and Nattie but this is a different kind of soft. This is a scared man that's trying to be strong, this is a man that has so much on his shoulders and doesn't want to show it, that is a man has so much to lose. Max is vulnerable and he's trying not to show it, it is rare for him to be so vulnerable. Max leads Cecilia to the bathroom, once they're in their ensuite he turns the tab on in the huge tub they have facing the window. They're silent, Cecilia watches Max with intensity, her heart is beating fast in her chest, and Max still won't meet her eyes. So when he comes to stand in front of her Cecilia raises his chin with the tip of her fingers, and his eyes move up her figure until they meet her eyes. Their eyes meet and every thought, everything that Cecilia wanted to say is gone, she can't remember what she wanted to say. Max's blue eyes trap her, people always say that eyes are windows to the soul and she couldn't help but agree at this moment.

Max moves his hands down to the hem of her shirt and lefts it up, Cecilia says nothing just follows his lead and lefts her hands up to help him slip it off. He drops it to the floor, his eyes not leaving hers, his hands move to her jeans and unbutton them, he push them over her hips and they fall to the floor, Cecilia steps out of them, and stands there in her undwear and still Max doesn't look away from her face. Before he moves to her bra or panties he starts on his own clothes, he takes off his shirt in one fluid move and moves to his pants, Cecilia isn't as strong as Max her eyes drop to his chest for a moment before they go back to his face.

Max smiles a little and a blush covers Cecilia's face, Max's hands cup her face his thump rubbing her cheek softly. Max's hands run over her neck, shoulders and back until they reach the clasps of her bra which he undoes expertly, her bra falls on the floor between them, and Max's hands continue on their mission and move to her hips where they hock onto the tops of her panties and move down taking them with him. Cecilia once again steps out of them and Max takes off his boxers.

Max takes her hand softly and walks them to the bath he steps in and sits down, still holding her hand he helps her in. Cecilia settles in front of him and Max pulls her back, he leans back against the tub with Cecilia pressed into him. She closes her eyes and takes a deep breath relaxing.

Max is looking out the big window at the view the sun is sitting and the sea is right in front of them and he's reminded why he chose this house and why he pays a lot of money for it. For moments like this, where he's with the person he loves the most and they spend their times together.

They sit in the hot water in silence for a long time, but it doesn't feel awkward and it's not as intense as it was before, both have a lot on their minds, so many things could happen and they have to think about all the possibilities and what they'll do in each case. The silence is something that they needed, they just needed to be together in each other's presence, the comfort of having someone just sit there and hold you, and you don't have to say anything for them to understand what you're feeling.

A sudden thought popped in Cecilia's mind, and before she second guessed herself or give it much thought the words spilled from her mouth. "Do you believe in soulmates?"

"Soulmates? That's random." Max hummed his hands moving to her waist under the water, his thump rubbing softly at the skin. "No, I don't think they're real."

Maybe it was because he's a child of divorce, or maybe it's because he didn't realise right away that Cecilia is the one for him, but either way, he doesn't believe in them.

"I don't think they're real, at least not fully... but I feel like if there's ever soulmates, that you're mine."

Max moved his head to her shoulder and pulled her closer if that was even possible. Max presses his lips to her sweet spot, Cecilia closes her eyes once more, leaning her head back and to the side. Her hands move to his hair and she pulls slightly, Max whines, his lips find their way to her neck, kissing and sucking leaving his mark on her body, he’s everywhere, his hands are moving all over her, her breath catches in her throat, before she breathes his name like a mantra. “Max.”

After their time in the bathtub and the water has long since gone cold they get out, dry themselves and get dressed. Cecilia goes to the kitchen where she and Alex had ingredients out to make lunch, Cecilia puts everything back where it belongs, deciding to order something for her and Max.

”Schatje!” Max calls coming out of the bedroom.

”In the kitchen.” She calls back and Max comes in phone in hand.

"My team just called me, a video of what happened today was posted online.” Cecilia moved to his side and looks at his phone, a shaky video is playing but there’s no mistaken that it’s the three F1 drivers and her ex, she sees Max throwing the first punch and the fight that happens after that, Mathew’s face is clear and it’ll take no time before it’s public knowledge who he is and how they once dated.

”Our PR teams will not like what’s about to happen.” Cecilia mutters.

”They’ll have to deal with it.” Max knows they’re in trouble but there’s not much they can do. What’s done is done and there’s nothing you can do about it.

“Love the I don’t give a fuck mindset.” Cecilia says and squeezes his cheeks with one hand. “What are we having for dinner?”

”Can we have tomato soup and whatever you want?”

“Sure thing.” Cecilia said kissed his cheek and picked her phone to order, they were planning to have a chill night just the two of them and the leaked video isn’t about to change that.

The next two days, things were crazy online, but their day to day life was quite everything was going smoothly, until it wasn’t.

Fans(also known as detectives) find out who Mathew was, they also find pictures of a young Cecilia with Mathew and have deducted that they were dating once upon a time, and it wasn’t long before rumours of him being Nathalie’s dad were all over social media, conspiracy theories, comparison pictures and everything in between. It all came to a head when Mathew released a statement, Cecilia’s world turned upside down.

“Ceceilia and I used to date when she was still in F3 and before that, we were the young couple with the world ahead of us, and for a small mistake I've made she's refused me my daughter and named another man her father, I wasn't given the chance to know my girl to see her grow up or to hear her call me daddy, in fact now I'm subjected to hearing her call another man daddy. I personally find it unfair and unjust.”

“What the actual fuck is wrong with him.” Laurent was pissed off, he didn't care about the look his mother gave him for cursing, the family was gathered for a get together during the winter break and Mathew just decided to ruin it like he's been doing lately. “I want to punch him so bad.”

“You're not the only one.” Max muttered, the kids were playing in the game room Cecilia's mum had made for her grandkids, so the adults were speaking freely.

“Börje what about his father, you said you could talk to him.” Adeline asked her husband, worried sick for her daughter and granddaughter.

“I've left a massage with his secretary, but they haven't heard from them.” Börje was not happy, he wasn't happy at all. He usually left his daughter to do as she pleases deal with everything the way she liked but this is a step too far.

“And his family, are you sure they'll help?” Max asked, he's the only one who never met them, and he only knows the little that came up while talking with Ceceilia.

“If they care about their company.” The threat was clear in Börje's voice.

“I'm afraid he won't though.” Cecilia mutters and they all turn to look at her. “I mean, I think I know how Mathew is, and I have a feeling that he's not on good terms with his family, he's not the kind of person to make news like that knowing it'll get back to his family and they wouldn't be pleased with him.”

Cecilia looks at Max by her side, he doesn't know anything about her relationship with Mathew or how their dynamic worked , he didn’t know how close she and Mathew were, she planned her life with him and then she got pregnant and all those dreams flew out the window. Max takes her hand and squeezes it.

”We’ll figure it out.” Börje said and took out his phone to try and contact his family again the Walkers were very famous and very big in the UK but they need the Hanssons to function, for their businesses to not fail.

It was only over an hour later that Börje got a call back. Cecilia and Max were on the blconey talking, Laurent and his wife were checking on the kids so he was with Adeline. A lengthy phone call between Börje and Mathew’s dad, Börje was told the inner workings of the family recently, the problems Mathew has been causing. David, Mathew’s dad, had no idea about Nattie, he had no idea he had a granddaughter out there and he did say that if he knew that he would’ve made Mathew stay and take accountability. Börje told him that this is why he didn’t inform him, his daughter and granddaughter didn’t need a father that’s forced to be there.

”Go get Cecilia and Max.” Adeline went and got the couple.

”What did they say papa?” Cecilia asked taking a seat across from her father, her hands rubbing her thighs trying to self comfort herself.

”You were right, Mathew is in trouble with his dad, he made a big mess at a board meeting and has been on the sidelines for a few months, and as a way to get back at his dad he’s been causing a lot of trouble.” Börje told them. “They’ll try to talk to him but there’s no guarantee it’ll work.”

”So we’re on our own then.” Cecilia stated she leaned back and sighed.

”Don’t lose hope yet, mon ange.” Adeline said and took Cecilia’s other side she pulled her in for a hug, kissing her forehead.

”Either way he can’t take her from us.” Max said, putting his hand on Cecilia’s knee.

”Max is right, the lawyers said there’s no way, unless you’re the worst mother there is, there’s no way for a court to give Mathew any rights.” Börje said.

Nathalie went to a friend’s house for a play date, and when Cecilia and Max went to pick her up to go out for dinner she looked upset.

”Thalia, what’s wrong liefje?” Max asked looking at Nathalie in the rare review mirror.

”Can we go home?” The frown on her face didn’t move, her lips pouting.

“You don’t want to eat out?” Cecilia asked concerned, Nattie shakes her head no. “Of course, mon amour, we’ll go home.”

Max and Cecilia share worried looks but say nothing. The ride home is much tenser than it was on the way to drop her off earlier in the day.

Nattie ignores her parents from the car to the apartment, and was planning to just head to her room, but her mum wasn’t about to let her.

”Nattie, please come, we have to talk.” Cecilia calls for her daughter before she could escape. Nattie looks at her mum before her eyes go to Max. “Do you want to talk just you and me? Or you can talk to daddy-“

Before Cecilia could finish, Nathalie was already in tears. Sobs leaving her body shaking, she was practically wailing. It surprised both her parents and they both sprung into action, heading to their girl. Cecilia had her in her arms first, and Nattie clutched her shirt tightly in her hands, hiding her face in Cecilia’s shirt.

”What’s wrong, liefje?” Max whispers trying to see Nattie’s face but she just hid more into Cecilia. “Do you want me to go?”

”NO!” She shouts and turns from Cecilia to look at him stomping her leg, this took both the drivers by surprise, Nathalie is rarely difficult, she’s never thrown a tantrum without any reason, whether they agreed with the reason or not is a different subject.

”Nathalie!” Cecilia scolded her daughter but it only brought more tears. “What’s wrong mon amour? Please just tell us, so we can help you.”

”I-I- I don’t want to have another daddy.” Nathalie said looking up at you, her hands were back to clutching Cecilia’s shirt, she was begging her now.

”What?” Cecilia whispered. “Okay, let’s sit down and talk, okay?” They moved to the sofa, Max squeezed Cecilia’s hand in comfort before they sat down with Nathalie in between them.

”What are you talking about, mon ange? Max is your daddy.” Cecilia pushed Nathalie’s hair out of her face, looking at her red face wet from all the tears.

”Laura said that I’m going to have another daddy, but I don’t want him, I only want Maxie, he’s my daddy, Laura said that you’re going to make another man my daddy, and I don’t want it, I just want daddy, I just want him.” Max couldn’t help but pull Nathalie softly away from Cecilia and into his arms, the girl instantly hugged him, her hands wrapping around his neck and clutching his shirt, and the tears continued to flow.

”You’re my baby girl, and that’s never going to change, yeah?” Max said softly patting her back, Cecilia was fighting tears herself, she felt so bad for not talking to Nathalie about it but she just never thought she’d find out through her friend, they’ve all been so good at keeping her away from all the drama. “You’re my liefje, you’re my daughter, the one I love the most and there’s no changing that, as long as you want me, I’ll always be your dad.”

”Please don’t leave me.” Nathalie whispered her sobs have calmed, but she was still tearing up.

”I won’t, I promise.”

Nathalie hadn’t let go of Max until she fell asleep, Cecilia debated walking her up for dinner but seeing how exhausted Nathalie looked she just let her sleep. Max placed her in her bed, while Cecilia waited for him in their bedroom. They seem to mean there a lot lately to just talk about everything Mathew related.

Max sits next to Cecilia, their shoulders brushing.

”She looked so heartbroken.” Cecilia whispered, there’s a lump in her throat and it seemed to be choking her slowly.

”Yeah… we need to solve this as fast as possible.” Max sighed and closed his eyes to think, there has to be a way to get rid of Mathew for good. He’s doing all this for attention from the public, to get back at his parents, and to just ruin their lives. Mathew must’ve known that there’s no way he’d get Nathalie, he’s the one that signed the papers. He’s the one that disappeared, he’s the one that’s been seen hanging around women in Monaco since he’s been back in the country. “Do you have a copy of the papers?”

”What papers?”

“The ones he signed his rights away.”

”Yeah, papa, has the original ones, but I have a copy, why?”

”I’m going to need them.”

It took a week before Mathew released another statement.

”My family has come in contact with me after they shunned me months ago, and I was happy, maybe they wanted to come in contact with me again, but they just wanted to keep their pockets filled with Hansson money and asked me leave my girl, to not care about her and to move on.

Well, to that I say fuck you, fuck you all, I’m taking this to court, I’m going to have my daughter back, I want part of the custody, I want her to know who her father is, I have the rights, and I’m not backing down.”

Not even 15 minutes later team Max Verstappen released a statement.

”It’s sad for Max and Cecilia, to have intimate parts of their private life so out to the public, not for them but for Nathalie. They want to inform everyone that Mathew has no rights to Nathalie, as he signed his rights away in the early stages of Cecilia’s pregnancy and has never tried to come in contact with her since. He’s not on the birth certificate or any other document. Thus, he will not be able to take Cecilia to court. We’ve included a picture of the documents he signed to give his parental rights away, furthermore we’ve done our own research and discovered that Mathew has many children out there in the world that he’s never seen or come in contact with. That’s all the couple is willing to say, thank you for understanding and please give the family time to deal with what has happened. See you on track!”

“This is why you wanted the papers?” Cecilia asked coming into the sim room, with her phone in her hands, she’s amused, she’s happy and she’s relieved.

”He had it coming.” Max said not looking away from his sim.

”How did you find out about other women?” Cecilia asked confused, Max shrugged.

”Hired a private investigator.”

”Wow, remind me not to get on your bad side.” Cecilia joked and giggled.

”Couldn’t do that even if you tried.” Max said simply and the smile on her face grew.

”Really?” She raised an eyebrow and Max hummed. “Even if I do this?”

Cecilia dropped on his lap ending his perfect lap, Max’s hands instinctively left the wheel to land on her hips to steady her.

”Even if you do this.”

”What about if I do this?” She asked and leaned close so her face was millimetre away from his.

”Even then.”

”What about this?” She presses her lips to his, Max pulls her closer. She’s driving him crazy, his hand is at the back of her head holding her head just how he likes it, making her moan into the kiss.

”Especially this.” Max manages to get out between kisses, his voice already sounding out of breath.

Later that day with the couple getting ready to head to bed, Max comes up behind Cecilia who sat at her vanity doing her skincare routine. His arms find their place on her shoulders before they move down her arms to her elbows and then to her waist, he pulls her up just enough for him to slip under her and she’s sitting on his lap. All the while she’s just continuing with what she was doing, Max places his head on her shoulder and looks at her through the mirror.

”You’re so touchy today.” Cecilia teased Max lightheartedly.

”Says the one that came in and kissed me and then lured me into sex.” Max smirks enjoying the blush that covered her cheeks, he loves how he still gets her to blush like that.

”Well, I don’t remember you not liking it.” Cecilia manages to say.

”No I certainly liked it.” Max mumbles and kisses her shoulder, before he’s back at looking at her.

”What’s up?”

”Nothing, I’m just happy, we’re together.” Max said softly and Cecilia smiles at him through the mirror.

”Me too, more than anything.” Cecilia replied just as softly. “Did I mention how much I find it sexy when you fight for me and Nattie?”

“You can’t love someone and not fight for them, being with you and loving you, makes me want to fight everyone and everything that bothers you.” Max’s tone is serious, an opposite to Cecilia’s teasing one.

“And I’d do the same… but somehow everyone is already scared of you.” Cecilia giggles at the unamused look Max gives her, at the sound of her giggles, her hugs her closer and smiles.

”Come on, I’m done.”

Mathew drops off the face of the earth after the statement from Max, a few women came online and posted videos of their own experience with Mathew, all having his children. The one good thing that came out of him going public, is that his family is now sending money to those women who have Mathew’s children and are struggling financially. They of course disowned him and released a statement saying they had no knowledge of his doings and they’re no longer associated with him.

But the biggest fuck you came on Cecilia’s instagram…

ceciliahansson15

Tagged, maxverstappen1

liked by lewishamilton, charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel, and 4,345,356 others

ceciliahansson15 Guess I’m the only non-Verstappen in the house from now on 🤷‍♀️

view all 902,234 comments

username1 the plot twist

username2 I can’t ☠️

username3 say what again????

username4 honestly you go max claming your daughter as you should 👏

username78 as he should 🙇‍♀️

username98 max winning on and off the track

username09 next step, we’ll have 2 verstappens on track 👀

username26 pop the question and dont be a pussy max 💍

username37 i think he’s droves he’s not a pussy, bro claimed her daughter and gave her his last name before he even proposed

lewishamilton gongrats sending you all love 💐

ceciliahansson15 thank you lew 🫶

charles_leclerc you know i’m still her favourite right?

maxverstappen1 don’t know about that mate

charles-leclerc want me to call 😏

maxverstappen1 NO!

charles_leclerc I rest my case

ceciliahansson15 🙄

Usename48 I love how they like to use Insta to just say f you to everyone

Username229 seriously instagram should give them money over all the interactions it's getting them

Taglist:

@luciaexcorvus . @vellicora . @tpwkstiles . @belennasif . @eugene-emt-roe . @fanboyluvr . @fangirl125reader . @christianpulisic10 . @belennasif . @itsjustkhaos . @crashingwavesofeuphoria . @mynameisangeloflife . @mirrorball-6 . @skynel09 . @barcelonaloverf1life . @lilipiggytails . @rebelatbay . @christianpulisic10 . @ironmaiden1313 . @dark-night-sky-99 . @amalialeclerc . @bborra . @allsouls-emma . @buckybarns4life . @distancedss . @xoscar03 . @aquangxl . @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy . @theseerbetweenus .

#f1 imagine #f1 fanfic #f1 scenario #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen #max verstappen imagine #my girls #max verstappen x oc #max one shot #mv1 #mv33 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 fanfic

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icaruspendragon · 1 year ago

Text

someone asks me my favorite show and i have to tell them it’s supernatural, much to my chagrin.

we get to talking and they find out that i have a near encyclopedic knowledge of it. i can recite the names of the episodes in the first six seasons from memory. i didn’t even try to learn that for the worlds lamest party trick. i’ve just seen them enough that it’s floating around in my noggin. i have the dialogue for entire scenes memorized. entire episodes, even. yet again, accidentally learned from repeated watchings. i know about the actors. i’ve met the actors. i know about the cast and crew. i know timelines and theories and why this went that way. i have characters and quotes (both from the show and fanfic) tattooed on my body. one of the things i’m best know for to an audience of 370k+ online is my passion surrounding this show and its characters. this hypothetical person says “you must be a real big fan.”

and i am. i love this stupid little show that’s objectively not very good with its silly little characters that i love so much it often keeps me up at night.

and you wanna know what always surprises the hypothetical person in these hypothetical conversations that are an amalgamation of real conversations i’ve had with real people the most? it’s not how much i know about the show or what it represented to me in my adolescence or even my love for the characters.

it’s the fact that i haven’t seen the last five seasons.

that i haven’t finished the show.

i started watching in 2013 and stopped in 2015. i didn’t pick it back up again in earnest until early 2022. i’ve been rewatching since then and despite watching it literally every single day, i’ve only made it to the end of season eight in my rewatch.

there’s always some form of indignation on the other party’s behalf. and they always ask me “why? if you love it so much, why not watch all of it?”

and the answer is simple.

because i don’t want to.

i know what happens. i was online nov 5th 2020. i know how it ends. and i don’t want it to end. i don’t like the ending. so i’m not gonna make myself watch something i know is just going to make me upset.

and does that mean i’m less of a fan?

spoiler alert: the answer is “no.”

despite what other people and fans alike like to say, it doesn’t make me less of a fan. just like watching the show in its entirety doesn’t make them more of a fan.

fandom allows for flexibility of enjoyment. and that’s what i’m in fandom to do.

enjoy.

to enjoy the same thing with people who enjoy the same thing as me. to share my joy with these people.

so no. you’re not less of a fan or more of a fan for consuming media a certain way.

if you enjoy something, you’re a fan.

and if you’re a fan, there’s a place in fandom for you.

#fandom #fanfic #can you believe people have literally said that ‘i’m not a real fan’ of hit cw monstrosity supernatural?#bc they have said that #but this ain’t a competition #and i’m not trying to win #so i’m gonna enjoy my media how i wanna enjoy it #and if i wanna enjoy it by living in a bubble of delusion?#that’s what i’m gonna do !! :)#it’s my escapism and i can do what i want!!

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prettytoxicrevolver · 3 months ago

Text

August | Mathew Barzal

wc. 2.7k

"August slipped away into a moment in time, cause it was never mine. "

You had always kept an eye on Mat Barzal’s budding career.

Growing up with the up and coming hockey player you always knew Mat as the dorky kid in your Algebra class. However, when he was drafted by the New York Islanders in 2015, you couldn’t help the glances towards his career every now and then. Everyone saw him as a hometown super star and you weren’t immune to the affects of celebrities unfortunately.

You had stayed in your hometown, wanting to help out your parents as they started getting older and you found a teaching job not too far away too. It was the perfect balance and you were happy with your summers off and free time. You subconsciously knew the hockey season had ended in the middle of April overall and when the Islanders were knocked out of playoffs at the end of the month, your mind had wandered to Mat once more, and you couldn’t help the casual google search.

When you discovered that he had plans to come home from the summer you were intrigued. Why come back to your hometown after traveling all over the United States and having more than enough money to travel all over the world? Of course, you wouldn’t find the answer to that until later.

You didn’t expect to see Mat around your hometown. It was small but not small enough for you to run into a boy you hadn’t seen in years. You didn’t even expect for him to recognize you and yet you still did it anyway.

You were driving to the beach, wanting a break from everything and to just sit with the wind blowing through your hair and your book in your hands. It had to be close to midnight and your habit of not being able to sleep was creeping up on you again. You didn’t expect to see anyone else on the road at this point but you could recognize him a million miles away.

You’re still not sure what prompted it, but you found yourself slowing down on the road.

“Mat?” you called and watched as he paused in his step and you laid on the breaks in your car till you were at a full stop.

You watch with curious eyes as Mat walks towards your car before leaning over and peering into your passenger side. When he spots you, a look of recognition and then slight shock washes over him.

You can’t help the light laugh that washes over you at his shock, a reaction to the absurdness of the Mat Barzal being in your hometown.

“Oh my god,” you let out quietly and Mat tilts his head at the words. “Get in.”

You gesture for Mat to hop in your car and you’re surprised even by your own actions. Mat takes it in stride though, climbing into your best up old car and clicking his seatbelt like this whole interaction was completely normal.

“Let’s drive,” he finally responds and you step on the gas. It’s quiet for a moment as you drive and eventually you turn to look at him.

“How have you been?” you ask, the question feeling odd but a glance at Mat shows him nodding in response.

Your original route towards the beach is paused opting to just drive around your small town as you and Mat catch up. You tell him about what you’ve been doing since high school, how college was and how your job now is. He tells you all about the NHL and training and how lucky he has been to play professionally.

“I’ve kept track of your career,” you mention as nonchalantly as you can afford.

“Really?” Mat says and he can’t help the jolt of happiness that hits him at your words.

“Vaguely. You’re supposed to have a 50 goal season this year or something?” you say but there’s a note of teasing in your voice.

“Something like that,” he grins back at you and that smile has your heart zapped.

“Shit I’m almost out of gas,” you curse quietly.

You look over to Mat who offers an almost imperceptible shrug and you nod slightly. You start to head in the direction of your apartment, realizing that it’s almost 2 in the morning. You didn’t even feel the tiredness in your body just yet.

When you get to your apartment, you tell Mat to keep quiet since your roommate was definitely asleep already. You both sneak in, collapsing onto your bed as Mat shuts the door behind him. He relaxes next to you, continuing the conversation you started in the car.

Your eyes trail his features as he talks and you’re suddenly struck at how beautiful the man in front of you was. He was damn near a Greek god, chiseled features, bright brown eyes, flowy hair that falls over his eyebrows occasionally. He could have been a model if he wasn’t a hockey player.

“Can I tell you a secret?” you blurt out, feeling all of 16 again staring at him.

Mat nods in response and you take a deep breath, leaning closer as your eyes flicker from his to his lips. You try not to over think this, reminding yourself of the unspoken tension surrounding the two of you ever since he got into your car.

When your lips ghost over his you can’t help the exciting pound of your heartbeat that only goes crazier when Mat pushes forward, truly connecting your lips. Your hand tangle in his hair as he carefully maneuvers you onto your back. His knee is pressed between your legs and his presence is so overwhelming you feel like you can’t breathe.

He pulls back, granting you much needed air and after placing a few kisses on your exposed neck, he looks you in the eyes again.

“Are you sure?” he asks breathlessly and you flush under his intense gaze.

“I’ve never,” you trail off, the implication of your silence saying everything else. Your inexperience rolling off you in waves that Mat takes in strides.

“But yes,” you tell him nodding and he smiles and meets your lips once more.

The next morning you’re awoken by movement and a feeling of confusion takes over until you see Mat laying next to you and your cheeks flush at the memories of last night. As your eyes gaze over his features, you’re hit with the question what now? You had never done anything like that before and you gave it to a boy you went to school with and connected again with after one night? What were you thinking?

Before you can spiral any further, Mat wakes up turning to see you and there’s an unreadable look in his eyes.

“Good morning,” you whisper and Mat smiles lightly.

“Morning,” his voice is rough from sleepy and the scratch in his tone sends a shockwave through you.

“What time is it?” He asks, now sitting up and reaching for his phone. When he checks it, his expression changes quickly to one of frustration.

“Ah fuck,” he curses and you tilt your head in his direction, a form of a question towards him.

“I’m supposed to meet my friend for lunch soon,” he explains and you nod.

Mat gets up and quickly dresses, running his fingers through his hair in a nervous manner before turning to look at you. Before you can process it, he’s pressing a kiss to your lips and whispering a promise that he’ll call you later tonight.

When your bedroom door clicks shut, it finally occurs to you what happened last night. You slept with someone for the first time ever. Not just anyone either. Mathew Barzal.

Your mind starts to scramble and before you have a chance to let your anxiety ruin the whole thing, you reach for your phone. You need to call Gianna.

Gianna was your best friend ever since middle school. Well, at least you thought she was your best friend, but deep down you knew she preferred her friendship with Inez, a girl who lived in New York that you forget about half the time anyway.

“Why are you calling me before noon?” she asks when the line finally connects.

“So I met a guy,” you start, unsure of how to segue into one of the biggest moments of your life.

“Ooh! This has to be good if you’re calling early.”

“I slept with him last night,” you blurt out suddenly.

“You what?”

You explain the whole situation to her, omitting his name, and more so who he was until the end. When you tell her that he just left and promised to call you tonight, you listen intently as she sighs quietly.

“Gianna?”

“Yeah?” she asks, still not offering a full reaction.

“It was Mat Barzal.”

The bomb drop leaves the two of you in an awkward silence for more than twenty seconds, each one painfully ticking by and making you flinch inwardly. Gianna knew Mat a bit better than you, the two of them were both on sports teams and their friend circles constantly overlapped. You and Gianna however, had become friends in choir class.

“I heard he was back for the summer,” is all she says in response and your heart clenches at her uncaring tone.

“G? I really fucking like him and I’m happy,” you tell her, hoping this admission of feelings pulls more of a reaction out.

“He’s only here for the summer.”

“It’s different,” you demand, knowing the underlying meaning in her words. “Last night was amazing.”

You drown out her response, anger clouding your judgment that Gianna couldn’t be happy for you. You had just slept with a guy for the first time and all she can do is imply he doesn’t care about you? That he’ll go home and everything won’t matter anymore? You hang up shortly after, still slightly fuming that your supposed best friend wasn’t being supportive.

You knew.

You knew though deep down, no matter the words you spat at Gianna or the delusional thoughts in your head. You knew you and Mat were going to be nothing after this summer. You just really didn’t want to believe it.

known there was another girl back in New York. You should have known that she was the one he really wanted. The one he’d give it all for. He was never yours.

Sometimes you really wished you listened to that doubting voice in your head.

Maybe this wouldn’t hurt so fucking bad now if you did.

Mat calls that night, tells you about his day and asks about yours. You make plans to go to the beach tomorrow. Your heart feels lighter when you go to sleep that night. By the time morning arrives, you’ve forgotten all your worries already.

The knock on your door has an unconscious smile creeping up onto your lips and you jog downstairs and swing it open to see Mat.

He’s leaning against the door frame, soft smile on his lips, arms crossed over a plain t-shirt and a blue open button down. His legs are crossed in a manner that is so effortless you wonder if he’s even a real human.

“Ready to go?”

You nod and he pulls you close, slipping an arm around your shoulder as you walk over to his car. Mat drives to the beach, hand on your thigh and an easy smile on his lips. Your heart raced twice as fast whenever he touched you and you couldn’t help but think you’re in love.

You get to the beach pretty fast, the two of you finding a place to set up and relax for the day. Mat had been in and out of the water while you had relaxed back in your beach chair and read to your heart's content. You couldn’t think of a better day than the one in front of you.

Mat flops down onto the beach towel next to you, a bright smile lighting up his perfect features. You gaze at him and he throws a wink in your direction and it feels like your body is lit on fire even just by the thought of him staring at you.

He lays on his stomach, his head rest on his crossed arms and you find yourself dropping a hand to his back and tracing patterns on his bare skin. You’re tracing your name and then his when you finally break the silence.

“When are you going back?”

“Couple of weeks,” he answers noncommittally.

“Do you think-“ you start to say and just when you’re about to push away the rest of the sentence Mat looks at you expectantly. “Will you call when you get back to New York? Keep in touch?”

Something flickers in Mats eyes at your question, you’re not sure if it’s sadness or frustration or guilt or what. It seems to pass quickly though, a smile plastered on that doesn’t quite reach his eyes is thrown in your direction as he nods.

“Of course.”

You end up in Mats bed that night, twisted in bed sheets, laughs soaring in the air and good feelings wrapping you up so tightly you could almost choke on them. By the end of the night you fall asleep with a smile on your lips and Mat’s arms wrapped around you tight.

The weeks slipped away from you, warm summer months slipping through your fingers until August arrived. Mat was due back to New York any week now and you found yourself begging for his attention. You dropped anything and everything when he called, something Gianna was getting angry about.

“Hello?” you answer, looking over at Gianna who gives you an annoyed glance.

“What are you doing right now?” Mat’s voice greets you and you can’t help the smile that slides on your lips at his voice.

“Not much. Why?”

“Meet me behind the mall in 20 minutes?”

“I’ll be there,” you say, a giddy feeling rising in your chest.

When you hang up, you stand up searching for your shoes, completely forgetting that Gianna was sitting in front of you.

“Earth to (y/n)?” she asks and you look over with an awkward smile.

“So that was Mat,” you start and Gianna huffs in frustration as she stands.

“So you’re canceling plans again?”

“I only have so much time left with him,” you respond, tugging on one of your sneakers.

“Of course,” she mutters, anger filling the room.

“What?” you snap, frustrated that Gianna was still giving you shit for going out with Mat.

“You’re leaving your best friend for some guy who will leave you in a week?”

“I’m not-“ you start to retort but she cuts you off.

“He has a fucking girlfriend in New York!! You’re the other woman!”

The words are a complete and utter blow. The reality hits you full force and forces you to face the thing you never wanted to. That Gianna was right. That this summer was all you were to Mat. A distant memory. More likely, a mistake he made.

“Whatever,” you mutter, left with nothing but the last word as you storm out of her apartment.

You meet Mat behind the mall and he’s quick to hop into your car and press a kiss to your cheek. Your previous argument with Gianna is already fading to the back of your mind.

“What’s wrong?” you ask Mat when you’re sitting next to him on the beach, the sun setting quietly against the crashing waves.

“I’m going back to New York tomorrow,” he tells you quietly and the shock is plain on your face.

“They called me to come back early,” he explains and all you can do is nod slowly at the news.

“Will you stay until the sun sets?” you ask, the words wavering in your throat.

“Of course,” Mat tells you but the words sound hollow like he’s already thousands of miles away and in a whole different life again.

Mat had appeared in your small town like a reoccurring dream, lost memory, and perfect fantasy wrapped up in a six foot tall, brown haired, bright eyed hockey player. For a while you questioned so often if he was even real or not.

And during that time you let yourself be delusional. Let yourself believe all the times he promised he would call when he got back to New York. That the two of you would stay in touch but as you sat on your bed a week later and no calls from Mat you knew what this was all along.

And it still hurt just as bad.

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justagalwhowrites · 8 months ago

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Stitches: Part of For You - A Collection of Requests Benefitting Palestine

Joel comes into the clinic after getting hurt on the job. A non-canon one shot set in the Lavender universe.

^Gif not representative of reader's appearance, just here for the vibes.

Event Terms: Commissioners could choose to donate between $15 and $50 via Ko-Fi for one fic of 1-2k words to be written by April 1, 2024. Payment due after completion of the fic. Donation with a match by the author to be paid to PCRF on April 2, 2024 in honor of Pedro Pascal's birthday ❤️ Commissioners had the option to choose to keep a fic private and all fics may not be shared here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader from Lavender, QZ era

Warnings: Brief description of injury. Angst. Smut (P in V sex). No use of Y/N, Minors DNI 18+ only.

Length: 4k

A/N: Sooooo this one got a little away from me (shocking, I know.) I can't promise all of this collection will be this long but apparently I really missed Joel and Doc. Written for @suzmagine after she requested QZ era Joel and Doc with angst and smut :)

For You Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Sunday, September 20, 2015

“I’ve got one more for you,” Marta hovered outside the patient room, a file folder in her hands.

You groaned.

“Another one?” You asked. “Shouldn’t we be done for the day by now? Shouldn’t we have been done for the day an hour ago?”

“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” she replied. “I’m the one who’s been pulling double duty all day because Andrew’s out…”

“And I’m the one who’s had twice the patient load because the entire QZ has the flu,” you sighed before you pinched the bridge of your nose. This wasn’t helping either of you. “Alright, just… Please tell me this is the last one.”

“Last one,” she said. “Doors are locked.”

“Speakeasy after this?” You asked, opening the folder.

“I would but Brian and I are going to a friend’s place tonight,” she smiled, almost sheepishly. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright,” you sighed. “I just need to get a life….” You glanced down at the intake notes. Just stitches and antibiotics, on order from FEDRA. “This looks basic, why don’t you head on out. I can finish up here.”

“Really?” She asked. You just nodded and she squealed a little. “Thank you so much!”

You tried to not be jealous of the fact that she had a life to go home to. In all reality, you shouldn’t be upset about staying late at work. It’s not like you had anything else going on. Once Tommy left the QZ and Andrew and Jess started spending more time just the two of them while she was down for the count because of her pregnancy, you pretty much spent your time not at work at home, doing a lot of nothing.

“I need a hobby,” you muttered to yourself before making your way down to the exam room where your last patient was waiting for you.

You knocked once on the door and gave the patient a moment to answer before you opened it, reviewing the intake notes as you did.

“Hi there,” you said, looking up from the file. “I’m….”

Your voice trailed off. Joel was sitting there, perched on the end of the exam table, his eyes ranging over you.

“Don’t think you need to introduce yourself, Kid,” he said, giving you a wry half smile.

You looked back at the file. In the name field was just J.M. - FEDRA. You frowned and looked back at him.

“FEDRA sent you in?” You set the file down on the counter before going to wash your hands. “Why, did you pick a fight with a guard?”

“No,” he quirked his jaw. “Just some equipment on sewer duty.”

“Lucky you,” you said, pulling your chair up beside the table. You sat down, closer to him than you’d been since you’d been almost blown up before Tommy left the QZ. “Well, I’m sure you’d rather see anybody else but I’m afraid there’s something going around and I’m the only doctor who’s here right now. Since you’re here on FEDRA orders, I can’t really let you leave and come back another time…”

“S’fine,” he cut you off. “It’s not… I don’t mind. That it’s you, I mean.”

“Oh,” you said, a little taken aback. You tried to hide it as you pulled on your gloves. “Well that’s… good. Why don’t take off your shirt, looks like the injury is on your stomach?”

“Yeah,” he said, unbuttoning his top. “They put a bandage on me there but said I’d need stitches and shit to keep it from gettin’ infected.”

“Yeah, I feel like dying from an infection that doesn’t turn people into monsters in this day and age is a bit of a raw deal.”

Joel snorted and shrugged out of the shirt. You saw a bandage, stained with blood, near his belly button. You winced a little, even though you’d seen so much of Joel’s blood at this point you thought you should be used to it. But it never got any easier, knowing he was putting himself at risk, knowing he was in pain.

Blood was a good distraction, though, when you thought about it. Joel without his shirt had always been a weak spot for you. Blood was one way to keep you from focusing on things you shouldn’t. Like the fact that his chest was broad and firm and you knew just what it would be to rest your head against him there and listen to the steady thrum of his heart as you fell asleep.

“I’m going to remove the bandage, OK?” You said, looking up at him through your eyelashes. You watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed. He just gave you a single nod and you pulled down the bundle of gauze and tape to expose a jagged cut that dipped into the muscle of his abdomen. You hissed a little in sympathetic pain. “What’d you do, Joel?”

“Had to jump to dodge an out of control truck,” he said. “Ended up landin’ on something sharp. Hurt like a bitch but… had worse.”

“Had worse is a damn low bar for you,” you said, gingerly examining the wound. “Good news is, this is even cleaner than I expected. Actually, you’re cleaner than I expected, you don’t smell like you were on sewer duty.”

“Yeah, well, figured patchin’ me up wouldn’t do much if I was covered in shit,” he said, voice beaten down by the misery that was QZ life. It was a tone you knew well. “Showered before I came.”

You nodded slowly.

“I’ll numb you up and get this all closed,” you said, sitting back from him. “Go ahead and lie back for me while I get set up.”

You gathered what you needed and came back to find Joel flat on the table, his hands folded over the base of his chest. The cracked face of the watch glinted in the florescent light and you tried not to think about how his arms looked bare. You hadn’t seen his arms bare in so long.

You cleared your throat and pulled the chair back up alongside him and changed gloves.

“Small poke,” you said as you injected the local anesthetic. He grunted but stayed still. You gave it a few minutes to kick in before you gently prodded the wound. “Feel that?”

“No,” he said.

You nodded and set to work, flushing out the wound and aligning his damaged skin to stitch it closed.

“So,” you said after the silence was heavy in the room. “How’ve you been since Tommy left?”

His body tensed a little.

“Fine,” he said gruffly. “Just a bit quiet around the apartment.”

You nodded slowly, focusing on your stitching.

“I hope you’re not just sitting in there all alone,” you said, half teasing half serious. “Even you need social contact now and then.”

“M’fine.”

There was something in his tone that made you feel like he was not, in fact, fine. As much as you tried to forget, you carried so much of the intimacies of Joel Miller within you. How he looked when his face was relaxed in sleep, how he felt when he held you like you were the only thing he had left in the world, how he sounded when he was in pain. He sounded that way now.

“Are you?” You asked, lifting your eyes from his stomach to look up his body to his face. His head was raised just enough to look back at you.

“Not your damn business what I am or what I’m not,” he snapped, lowering his head back to the exam table. “Leave it.”

“I’m just…” you paused as you finished the last stitch. “I worry about you sometimes is all. I know you don’t have a lot of people, Joel, and…��

“I’m not your fuckin’ problem,” he bit out, sitting up so fast that you shocked back from him. “I don’t need you pokin’ around my life and fuckin’ it up anymore than you already have so just leave it, alright!”

“Alright,” you said quietly, tears pinching at the back of your throat.

“You done sewin’ me shut?” He snapped. You nodded, still trying to resist the urge to cry. “Good.”

He snatched his shirt up and stalked out of the room, not even stopping to put it on.

You took a deep, shaky breath, staring at the place where Joel had just been. You tried not to think about how, for just a few minutes, there had been a quiet intimacy there like there had been with him before. How he felt comfortable and safe beside you, where you could run your fingers over his skin and see where his hair was starting to gray.

You gave yourself a few minutes to calm down before you started cleaning up, trying to focus on getting home so you could curl up in a ball in your bed where you were warm and safe, even if you were alone. You were starting to clear the tray of tools when you realized the syringe of penicillin was still there, shiny and full.

You’d never given him the antibiotics.

“Shit,” you muttered, voice wet.

You set it aside and finished cleaning up before grabbing a bottle of pain killers and an oral course of antibiotics and setting out to Joel’s place.

He answered quickly, all but ripping the door open and looking surprised to find you there when he did.

“What do you want,” he snapped.

“You still need antibiotics,” you said quietly, fighting to not flinch back from him. You held up the small bag with the syringe, bandages and pills inside. “You left before I could give them to you.”

He quirked his jaw but stepped aside, opening the door wide enough for you to come in. You set the bag down on the table and started taking off your coat.

“Didn’t say you could fuckin’ stay,” Joel said, voice still sharp.

“I figured you’d want me having full range of motion with my arms when I’m sticking you with a needle,” you said harshly before closing your eyes for a moment, forcing yourself to calm down. “I need to get at the wound again so… shirt off.”

He ground his teeth but obeyed, pulling the shirt off. You sat down at the table and got the syringe ready and he stood beside you there and you had the strangest urge to kiss his stomach. You pressed your lips together instead.

“If you didn’t run off this would probably hurt less,” you said. “But the anesthetic might be wearing off already so… small pinch.”

You pressed the syringe into his skin and pushed down on the plunger. He flinched once and that was it.

“Just going to bandage you up,” you said, not waiting for a response.

“Why’d you come here,” Joel asked as you taped the bandage over his damaged skin. You looked up at him, frowning. His eyes were on yours, deep and warm and chocolate brown.

“You needed…”

“Don’t give me that,” he cut you off. “You could have fuckin’ left it, told you enough times that I don’t want shit to do with you now so why are you really here? Not like FEDRA was gonna come and check and make sure I was on their ordered drugs so what is it?”

“Do you really think I’d just let something happen to you?” You asked quietly. “You might not care if I live or die anymore but I care about you. I’m always going to care about you.”

You didn’t wait for.a response. You looked back to his stomach and finished taping the bandage in place before taking the pills out and setting them on table before getting up and pulling your jacket back on.

“Instructions are on the bottles,” you said. “Take all the antibiotics, every last one, I don’t care if you’re feeling well and your cut is magically healed, still take them. Change out the bandages every 24 hours for the first few days, come by the clinic if there’s a lot of blood or discomfort. Pain medication as needed. I’m sure you’ll just sell whatever’s left…”

You grabbed the now empty bag off the table and turned to go to the door but Joel’s hand closed around your wrist, pulling you back around. You frowned, looking at where he was touching you before looking back to him.

“Joel…”

“You really think I don’t care about you?” He asked, voice heated. “You really think I don’t give a shit? Hm?”

You shrank back from him as much as you could while he held you in place, his grip on you tight.

“Joel…” you said again but he cut you off.

“You think I don’t care if you live or die?” It took you a moment to realize that he didn’t sound angry. He sounded… hurt? Offended? Both? “Jesus…”

“You’re hurting me, Joel.”

He scowled but dropped your wrist.

“After everything I’ve done,” he snapped. “After everything we’ve been through, you think I don’t fuckin’ care?”

“Why would I think you care?” You tried to sound mad but you just sounded hurt, your voice quivering. “All you’ve done for years now is tell me how I hurt you, how you wish you’d never met me, how you don’t want to see me again! Even when you’ve done something that you say is for me or because of me you act like your obligated to me in some way but you’re not and I wish you’d just leave me alone! I can’t keep doing this with you, I’m so tired of being your burden, Joel!”

You tried to turn to go but his hands were on you again but on your shoulders this time, his fingers digging into your flesh there. His eyes searched yours for half a moment before he pulled you sharply to him, his hands flying from your shoulders to your face to tilt your head to just the right angle, gripping you tight and desperate, before his lips crashed into your own.

It took you a second to fully understand what was happening but your body responded before your mind. It might have been years since you last kissed Joel but your lips knew his. They conformed to his like the familiar ground they were, giving to the hot press of him as he licked into your mouth.

You moaned and wrapped your arms around his waist, forgetting, for a moment, that he was injured. He hissed in pain and you tried to pull back but his grip on you grew tighter, fingertips pressing into your skull. Your body curved against his and you were suddenly acutely aware that he was shirtless, that you could feel his skin on yours if you could just take your own shirt off, too.

His hold on you eventually loosened and he pulled back from you, the brown of his iris almost entirely swallowed by his pupil now as he panted for breath. His thumbs traced the arch of your cheekbones.

“I care,” he said, voice hungry and low. “I care more about you than about any other person left on this godforsaken planet…”

“Joel…” you were breathless, heat and tension pooling at your core.

“And I’m tired of tryin’ to stay away from you.”

He pulled you back against him, gently that time. His lips were soft on yours, his tongue tracing the seam of you until you opened for him. You could properly taste him now, the mint of his toothpaste and the bitter tang of liquor and the familiar flavor of his skin. You drank it up, needing it like water. His hands left your face, sliding down your body to your waist. He pulled at your shirt, separating from you just enough to pull it up and over your head, taking a moment to look down at your body, an expression of almost reverence on his face as he panted for breath.

Joel tugged you toward him again, his mouth quickly finding yours, as he unhooked your bra. He slid that off your body, too, and cradled you to him.

You moaned into his mouth, you couldn’t help it, as your arms went around his neck. His skin was everywhere, so soft and so warm and just like you remembered. He felt so good against you, like home, and the ache of missing him flared to life inside your chest, sharp and cruel.

Part of you knew you should put a stop to this now, before it went any further. He was only going to push you away again, just like he had after Boston. It was only going to hollow you out and leave you feeling more desperately alone than ever.

But you couldn’t resist him. You’d missed him too much over the years, he was too much a part of you to ever dream of pushing him away. You needed this. You needed him.

You let him guide you toward the couch, his fingers prying at the button of your jeans before pushing those and your underwear down your body, too. You stepped out of them and your shoes together before Joel gently lowered you, completely bared to him, to the rough, aging fabric of the couch. You watched as he stood over you, your eyes wide, as he opened his own pants, freeing his cock and swiping his thumb over his leaking tip before stroking himself in long, slow strokes.

“Tell me you want this,” his voice trembled. “We can stop right now…”

“I need you,” you cut him off with a needy whisper. “Please.”

He didn’t need any more prompting. He shoved his pants and underwear down before he nudged your legs apart and settled between them. He gripped the root of his thick, heavy cock and trailed his tip over your leaking slit, moaning as he did.

“Missed this wet little pussy,” he notched his head at your entrance before thrusting halfway inside you with a short, sharp stroke. You gasped at the stretch of him, your back arching and fingers scrambling at the tattered upholstery. “Fuck, still so fuckin’ tight. Gotta be fuckin’ dripping for me or I’d never get inside you…”

He pulled back just a little, his thumb finding your clit and pressing into you there, working you in a slow circle. He thrust back into you, a little further this time.

“You get this soft and hot and wet for anyone else?” He asked, a possessive edge to his voice as his eyes ranged over your naked body. “Or you save that just for me?”

“Just for you,” you didn’t care that you sounded desperate and pathetic. You just needed him inside of you, filling you totally. “It’s all for you, I’ve always been all for you.”

“You all mine, Baby?” He asked, pulling back and thrusting deeper. “This little pussy all mine?”

“Yes,” you rocked your hips up against him but he pressed down on you, holding you in place and making you whimper. “Fuck, please…”

“How about the rest of you?” He asked, his hand leaving your clit as he lowered himself onto you. His skin was on yours, the plush swell of his stomach against you, his chest tight to your own. His hand came up to brush your hair back and cradle the crown of your head, his thumb tracing over you there. His eyes searched yours and, for the first time in years, you saw the Joel you’d fallen in love with so long ago. The quiet strength of him, the gentle care, the fierce love, the raw and aching whole of him there with nothing holding him back. “Want all of you, want that so much more than your perfect fuckin’ pussy…”

“Joel…”

“Say you’re mine,” he thrust deeper and you keened at the feel of him inside you, so close to having all of him within you where you’d known he belonged from the first time you’d taken him into yourself. “Tell me I’m not gonna lose you.”

“You’re not going to lose me,” you breathed. “I promise, you can’t lose me.”

He pulled back a little and you whimpered at the loss.

“Say you’ll let me protect you,” he thrust in, almost to the root this time, and held himself there. Your channel tightened around him.

“Joel,” you were having a hard time remembering how to say anything but his name, that single word the most vital one you’d ever known. “Please…”

“Tell me,” he ground himself against you, his skin on your clit, his cock pressing into your most sensitive places. “Let me take care of you, protect you. Say it.”

“You can protect me,” your hands found their way to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin there. “You can take care of me, I promise…”

“Let me love you,” he pulled back again but it was his words and not how he was moving inside you that made you gasp. “Say it. Tell me I can love you, that it’s safe to love you.”

You reached up and gently traced his hairline before threading your fingers through his curls, your eyes on his.

“I haven’t been the one stopping you from loving me,” you whispered.

“I never stopped,” he rocked himself part way into you again before pulling back. “Always loved you, always. But I need it to be safe, I can’t love you without it destroyin’ me if it’s not. Please, baby. Tell me. Tell me I can love you.”

“You can love me, Joel,” you said softly. “It’s safe. I’m safe.”

He kissed you, his mouth claiming yours and he pressed all the way inside you then, making your back arch and legs go tight around his hips. You moaned against his lips as he held himself deep within you for a moment before pulling back again.

It might have been years but your body knew Joel’s. You knew just how to take him and he knew just how to make you come, his hips grinding down into you when he was fully seated inside of your tight channel, making his cock tease your most tender places while his hips worked your clit. He fucked you deep and hard and greedy, like he couldn’t get enough of you, like he wanted to lay claim to all of you.

The tight band of pleasure inside of you wound tighter and tighter until it snapped when he was pressed deep, your walls fluttering over him. He moaned against your lips and fucked you through it, never slowing, never letting up, making it so your orgasm never really subsided. It just rolled into building the next one until he pulled his desperate and needy mouth from yours.

“Not gonna last, Baby,” he ground himself deeper, as if to make his point. “Where -”

“Inside me,” you panted. “I need to feel you, please don’t leave, please, inside me, please…”

He kissed you again, fucking you a little harder and faster, driving the band of pleasure tighter and higher until you felt him press deep and pulse inside you, triggering your next orgasm.

You came with him, your pussy rippling over him as he throbbed, emptying himself into you.

His body went slack for a moment before he propped himself up on his elbows, his eyes returning to their normal color. They looked over your face for a moment before locking onto your own and you had a moment of fear that the walls would go up again. That the cold, disconnected Joel who had taken over since he’d come to the QZ would be back. But his eyes stayed soft and open and warm, his large palm still cradling the top of your head.

“Tell me you meant all that,” you whispered even though you were afraid of what the answer was.

“Oh, Baby.” He leaned forward and pressed his lips to your forehead before trailing his nose over your own. “I meant every word. I promise.”

You smiled, looking into Joel’s eyes and realizing that, even though you were still stuck inside the QZ, you were right where you belonged.

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #lavender #smut fic #For You

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