#it felt like they never wanted a daughter or something but well

[no-144444]

the trouble with racing- o.piastri

summary: a the first race of the season, oscar figures something out that could change his life forever.

pairing: oscar piastri x ex! single mom! fem! reader

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You had always loved going to races, especially to see Oscar win. Home races were a big deal, and against your better judgement, you allowed Max to drag you along. You hadn’t seen him in years, not since he left F2 and left you behind. No text, no calls, just a note saying he couldn't do it anymore. Couldn’t love you anymore. Max was your brother in law, he’d married your sister years ago, and you two had bonded over your shared love of racing, but he’d never understood why you wouldn’t go to a GP. He also didn’t get why you wouldn’t let your daughter anywhere near the sport, when she already loved it so much, but to each their own. 

“Come on P,” you smiled, holding her hand and pulling her away from the gates of the paddock. All you had to do was get through the weekend. Just babysit Poppy and take care of Mia, and you’d be fine, right?

“Can we visit uncle Lando?” she asked and you grimaced. 

“We’ll see, first we should put all our stuff in Redbull, yeah?” you smiled at her and she nodded, running on to catch up with Max as he walked through the paddock. Your sister, busy pregnant with her second child, had decided to stay home and not fly, thereby giving Max a reason to beg you to help him out and take care of P. You had reluctantly agreed, and that’s how you ended up in the McLaren Motorhome, chatting to Lando. You’d met him a few times before, just in passing with Max, or at P’s birthday parties. He was sweet. 

“And how’s my favourite girl doing?” he asked, taking Mia out of your arms. 

You chuckled, watching the exchange. 

“Hi,” her meek little voice made Lando smile and laugh. 

“Hi Mia,” he waved. “Do you want to have a look at my car?

She nodded. 

“Do you want to sit in my car?” 

She nodded vigorously. 

“You don’t have to-” you started but he cut you off. 

“It’s fine, mechanics are done with it anyways. Onward we go!” he giggled, and you followed behind the two with P beside you. 

“I want to talk to Oscar!” P smiled. 

“He’s in the garage, you can go say hi,” Lando informed her and she ran ahead, straight for the garage. 

You felt your anxiety spike. He wouldn’t say anything, surely? He had nothing to say when he left. He should have nothing to say now. 

Lando and Mia got on like two peas in a pod, and you took all the photos while he talked to her about the different parts of the steering wheel and how it all worked. 

“Y/n?” Nicole’s voice brought you out of your bubble, and you felt yourself stiffen. “Is that you?” 

You turned around to see her shocked face, Hattie, Eddie, Mae, and Tim all standing behind her, the same surprised look. 

“Hi,” you smiled awkwardly. “How are you guys?”

“We’re good,” Nicole nodded, still trying to wrap her head around the fact that you were here. “H-How are you?”

“I’m good, thank you,” you nodded. 

“W-What are you doing here?” she asked. 

“Max Verstappen is my brother in law,” you explained. “He needed help with P-”

Just then, Poppy came bounding in, Oscar hot on her tail and wrapped her arms around your midriff.  “Auntie Y/n, am I allowed to root for two teams?” 

You smiled down at her, playing with her hair as she leant against you. “Of course, once one of them is Max.”

She looked at you, unamused. “Of course it is silly!” 

You chuckled. 

“Mom!” Mia giggled. “Look, I’m a racer!”

You turned back to Lando and Mia and saw her with her hands on the steering wheel, Lando dying of laughter as he took photos. You chuckled. “Well done baby.”

You turned back to see a horrified look on Oscar’s face, and the rest of his family looking at you surprised. “Well, it was nice to see you, but I’d better get back to Redbull,” you smiled before turning back to Lando. “Thank you Lan, she loves this stuff.”

He nodded, taking her out of the car and handing her to you. “See you later,” he called as you three left. 

Fuck. 

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The Piastri’s were stunned into a sort of shocked silence. Nicole was looking at her son, a million thoughts running through her head. 

“Lando,” Oscar spoke up. “Who’s kid is that?”

“Mia?” he asked, his face hardened. “Y/n’s.”

“How old is she?” Nicole rushed out. “Is Y/n married? Does Mia have a dad-?”

“Mia’s four,” he answered, calm and calculated. “Y/n’s been single since she found out, and Mia does have a dad; Oscar.” 

And Oscar’s world crumbled. He thought he was doing the best thing for you, getting you out of his insane life before it all got too crazy for you. He thought he was fixing things by leaving you behind. But all this time, he could’ve been a dad. He could’ve been there for you, while you were pregnant, while you were exhausted with a newborn, while you were alone. There hadn’t been a day that had gone by where he didn’t think about you, and wished you were still there with him, but it was his choice, and he made it. He started at the floor, trying to process it all. That kid was half him, half you. Mia. That was the name you’d both decided on if you ever got pregnant and it was a girl. You still had him in mind when you were naming her. 

“Oscar,” Lando’s voice was low. “Y/n has spend four fucking years without you, because that’s what you wanted. You wanted her to leave, so she left. She’s happy, after being very unhappy for a really long time. Do not fuck this up for her. Yes, you have a right to your child, but just think about the fact that she’s been doing fine without you for four years.”

“I-I… Can I talk to her?” he asked no one in particular. “I never knew.” 

“You blocked her on everything, how was she supposed to tell you?” Lando scolded. 

“Quali starts in 15 minutes,” Nicole interjected. “I’ll go speak to her.” 

“No,” Oscar sighed. “I’ll talk to her after. Let me sort this out, alright?” 

She nodded.

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Pole position didn’t taste as good as he wanted it to, especially when it also meant he had about 2 extra hours of interviews. He just wanted to see you. He just wanted to talk to you. He wanted to see Mia. 

He rushed to the RedBull garage, searching high and low for you until he ran into Max. 

“Hey mate,” Max smiled. “Alright?”

“Where’s Y/n?” he asked, frantic. 

“My sister in law?” he questioned and Oscar nodded. “She went back to the hotel.” 

“Which hotel?” 

“I’ll drive with you, come on,” Max offered and Oscar took it. “Why do you need her?” 

“I just… we have to talk about some things,” Oscar explained as they sat in the back of a car, driving towards the hotel. “We went to school together.”

“No way!” Max chuckled, not getting the fact that Oscar was seriously stressed and nervous. “That’s so fun, she dated a guy called Oscar for like five years and they met in high school,” Max’s head suddenly swivelled to meet Oscar’s eyes. “That wasn’t you, was it?”

“No,” Oscar lied. “No, we were just friends.” 

“Good, whoever that Oscar is, is the one that left her high and dry when she got pregnant,” he scoffed. “Dickhead.”

That didn’t exactly help the pit of guilt in Oscar’s stomach, but he nodded along anyway. 

The rest of the car journey was easy, both of them just chatting about the race tomorrow. When they got to the hotel, Max told him your room number, and Oscar was shooting off towards it. He stood in the elevator, it was a surreal feeling to find out that you had a kid, and he was also about to see the love of his life for the second time in four years. 

He knocked on the door, and herald giggles from Mia, and his heart swelled. You opened the door a crack and smiled in his general direction, but then you realised it was him, grabbed a keycard and came out, closing the door behind you. 

“What are you doing here?” you asked. 

“I wanted to talk to you,” he admitted. “I never knew-”

“I know and I’m sorry- I didn’t want to just… spring it on you like this but I knew you’d have to find out eventually- only Lando knows you’re her dad, and I wanted to tell you, I-I just… It never felt like the right time-”

“I’m her dad?” he questioned, his eyes filling with tears. You nodded, crossing your arms. “All this time and I could've been a dad?”

“I wanted to tell you, I swear, I just didn’t want you to think I was trying to baby trap you or anything, so I let it be and I just got more and more anxious about it, so I just stopped coming to GPs. I know this is a lot and I’m sorry-” you felt yourself tearing up. You knew Oscar wanted to be dad more than anything at all, but you were terrified. He’d broken up with you using a note. 

He wrapped his arms around you, shaking his head. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why you’re apologising. I’m the asshole. I should’ve been here, and I’m so sorry I wasn’t. I love you-”

“Osc-”

“No, I do. I only broke up with you because Zak told me ‘no distractions or realtionships’ and even then I couldn’t break up with you in person, I had to do it with a fucking note. I’ve loved you since we met in school, and I’m sorry that I let you go through this alone. If you’ll let me, I want to be in her life, and maybe yours too.”

Your features eased gently, but he knew what it meant. He knew you like the back of his hand, still. “I’m not sure about my life, but you do have a daughter who definitely would love a dad like you.”

“An F1 driver?” he questioned.

“No,” you chuckled. “A good person, come on,” you ushered him in, revealing Mia on the bed in her pyjamas, freshly bathed as she read a book. “Mia,” you spoke gently. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet-”

“Oscar Piastri!” she cheered. “Pole position!”

He chuckled and looked at you quizzically, as you smiled. 

“She got the racing bug from you,” you smiled at her, your voice low so she couldn’t hear. He beamed with pride. 

“Is she into karting?” he asked and you rolled your eyes. 

“Only three days a week,” you sighed. “She loves it, as much as you did.”

He nodded. “Hi Mia, what book have you got there?” 

“The ABC’s of racing,” she explained. 

“Do you mind if I read it to you tonight instead of your mom?” he offered and she nodded, beaming with excitement. 

He looked at you with a hopeful smile and you nodded, giving him the go-ahead. As you watched him sit beside her in bed, reading to her until she fell asleep against him, as much as your heart was full, you couldn’t escape that unmistakable dread that bubbled in your stomach. Oscar could leave again, you'd just be heartbroken. You had to be smart about this, not let him near you, just let him be a dad to Mia. 

You could do that, right?

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mclaren masterlist

navigation for my blog :)

[chosolar]

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈ wait for your love

nanami kento x fem!reader

exhusband!nanami who was your best friend since high school. you met during your 2nd year when he was getting teased for being a loser and you defended him. he stayed close to you after and has been close to you ever since.

exhusband!nanami who was forced to come with you to all the parties that you were too shy to go to. he never minded being your DD, as long as he knew you were safe then he didn't care about not being able to drink.

exhusband!nanami's parents had always nagged him to find someone after he graduated university. he took over his dad's company and as happy as his parents were, they wanted a daughter in law! he hated all the set ups his mom made him go to so he came to you with a proposition — get married to him for a few years to make his parents happy and he'll give you however much money you wanted. you needed the money he was offering so you accepted. the wedding was small and intimate with only your close friends and some family members.

exhusband!nanami worked his ass off ever since you accepted his proposal. even if it was just a marriage of convenience, he wanted to make sure you lived happily with him.

exhusband!nanami was the perfect husband. he was attentive, loving, and always spoiled you with everything you could ever want. the ladies in your neighbourhood loved him, wishing that their husbands were a fragment of what nanami is.

exhusband!nanami spent almost 5 years of marriage in bliss with you until you started pulling away. he never pushed you to talk though because he knew you were going through something. so he waited until you were ready to talk to him.

exhusband!nanami who felt in the dark when he was served with divorce papers. he was busy with paperwork, not bothering to look up at whoever was knocking on his office door. it wasn't until the manila envelope was placed on top of his desk that he looked up to see whoever served him.

exhusband!nanami wanted at least an answer before he signs the papers. you just told him the most vague answers. "I feel like we've grown apart" "we want different things in life" "I just can't do this anymore" he was confused with every reason that you gave.

exhusband!nanami couldn't wrap his head around the separation. he thought everything was going well but once he signed the papers to finalize the divorce, he felt the weight of losing you come all at once.

exhusband!nanami who hated being with anyone else but you. even if it did start out as a loveless marriage, he fell for you hard throughout the years. every "I love you" he's ever said, he's meant it. every kiss, every hug, nanami was surprisingly a good actor but he could never fake the affection he felt for you.

exhusband!nanami despises coming home. it was eerily empty and quiet, the sound of his footsteps were the only thing he could hear. he frequently thinks about moving away to get his mind away from you but he can't. he stays at the same place you've always know where he's been just in case you ever come back.

exhusband!nanami started drinking and smoking to waste his time. he rarely drank during college and he only did during parties with you. now that you're gone, he's turned to his vices. he knows that you hate the smell of cigarettes and you hate people who couldn't handle their alcohol but why does it matter if you're not with him anymore?

exhusband!nanami still remembers every little detail about you. no matter how hard he tried, he could never forget you and everything about you. you're the love of his life even if you don't feel the same about him.

exhusband!nanami felt like everything stopped when he saw you again on the street. you're still as beautiful as ever. your hair's longer and you've changed your style, but other than that you're still his pretty ex wife.

exhusband!nanami breathlessly greeted you back when you came up and said hi to him first. he thought you would've ignored him and just went along your way, but you stayed. your eyes stare up at him as you watch him fumble over his words. his heart skips faster as he sees you grin over his flustered state.

exhusband!nanami watches you leave after catching up. he wishes that it lasted a minute longer because for the first time in what feels like forever, he feels like he can breathe properly again.

exhusband!nanami starts sobering up and taking care of himself. he threw away the bottles of alcohol and cigarettes packs so that he can get away from feeling sorry for himself. if he ever sees you again, he wants to impress you (and make you regret your decision).

exhusband!nanami is shocked when he sees your face on the doorbell camera. the weather was relentless and he sees you shivering in the cold so he opens his door immediately. he hands you a change of warm clothes and turns up the thermometer of the house. 

while he's making hot tea for the both of you, he notices the bathroom door open and out you step, his clothes basically engulfing your body. nanami looks away, trying and failing to get rid of his lewd thoughts.

"sorry those are the only clothes I have that could fit you." nanami apologizes but you shook your head. "no don't be! if anything I should apologize for inconveniencing you."

nonsense, nanami thinks, you could never bother me.

nanami disregards his thoughts, "don't worry about that, I'm just glad to get you out of that snowstorm."

he hands you a cup of tea and you take notice of the mug he has in his hand. you think out loud, "you kept that mug?"

"hmm?" nanami glances up at you then to the cup, "oh yeah. how could I throw it away? you made it for me."

"but that was back in high school."

"and? I've kept everything you've ever given me." nanami cooly responded.

you kept quiet as you take sips of the tea he made for you. the taste is familiar until you remember — he made your favourite tea, just the way you like it. you dart your eyes between the tea and the blond man.

why is he like this? why is he still making your heart flutter after all this time? you wanted to get away but you couldn't, not until the storm calms down. the news reported that it'll continue until early in the morning meaning you'll have to stay inside — with him. knowing nanami, he would never let you out because he still worries for your safety.

sleepiness was creeping up on you as you both sat in the living room. nanami sees your head bobbling through his peripheral and offers you the guest room that you promptly accepted. he leaves you be, letting you explore the home that is exactly the same as when you used to live in it.

nanami laid in his bed, moving constantly to find a comfortable position enough to fall asleep. but he couldn't.

the only thing in his mind was you who was only a few doors down away from him. were you sleeping soundly or do you feel as insomnolent as him? he wants to get up and check on you but he restrains himself. with the wind blowing, all he can hear is the rage of the snowstorm hitting the windows of the house.

nanami directs his attention from the windows to the knocking of the door. "nanami? are you awake?"

he instructs for you to come in, the light from the hallway seeps into the darkness of his bedroom. he sits up and taps the space in front of him on his bed to tell you to come sit there. "why are you still awake?"

"couldn't sleep after I got into bed. you?" you wonder as you go to sit on his bed. he chuckles, "same. do you wanna talk? I remember you used to fall asleep to me talking."

"you remember?"

"how could I forget?"

you lift your legs to place them onto the bed and cross them, wrapping your arms and pulling your knees onto your chest. "why do you still remember everything about me?"

"I was your best friend before I was your husband. even if I wanted to forget, everything about you is engrained in me." his hand moves up to tuck a piece of your hair behind your ear. "you were my first and my last, it'll be that way till I die."

"you're so dumb," you mumble into your arms, "I divorced you and you still treat me so well."

nanami grasps your wrist and brings you to his lap, his arms wrapped loosely around you. he kisses your temple softly. "does that bother you?"

"I don't know," you confess. nanami exhales before he changes the topic. "if we're being honest, can you finally tell me now why you wanted a divorce?"

you shook your head. "not really, you might hate me."

"I won't." nanami reassures, "just be honest with me dear."

you sigh.

"the marriage was feeling too real."

nanami's expression twists into confusion.

"it was an agreement between us that if one day one of us wanted to stop, we will," you continue, "and one day, I thought about it. there's going to be a day you come up to me and maybe you'll tell me that you found someone else. I don't want to go through that, I don't want to lose you but we've already gone so far. I figured it was best for me to leave before that day does come.

"you'll never have to worry about that," nanami tightens his arms around you, "it's always been you."

you hugged him back, the scent of his cologne intensifies as you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. "can we start over? but for real this time."

"we don't need to start over," nanami places a kiss on the top of your head, "we can just pick up where we left off."

as soon as the storm stopped, husband!nanami takes you to city hall to sign a new marriage certificate.

husband!nanami makes sure to treat you right this time. if you think that the act he was putting up was good, then nanami not having to hide his feelings is better. he's not one to shy away from physical affection in public as he always wants to hold your hand or stay very close to you.

husband!nanami who will always reassure you that he'll never leave. you are the light of his life, the reason he wants up everyday. he'll never take a day with you granted.

husband!nanami finds it adorable when you watch over the neighbour's daughter. he'll wait until her parents pick her up and then he'll bring up the thoughts that's been plaguing his mind for a while now.

"honey, what do you think about starting a family?"

ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈

as per usual, not proofread!! ◡̈

[maretinelli]

A NON-SEPARATION²

DadLewis Hamilton X Mom!fem!reader

Summary: When Lewis and the girls return from their trip, and things with Y/n start to improve. And then, he confesses something that was on his mind during the days they were apart.

Words: 5.8K+

Warnings: Mentions of the past fight, Lewis being a loving husband, Pietra being very funny, Marie's cuteness and a happy ending.

Author: English is not my first language, so apologies for any spelling, grammar and slang mistakes that may be in the story. You can request stories on my profile, in questions. By the way, I loved writing for these four, if you want, I can make a parallel world and write more stories about this family!!!!! (Comment if you want, so I know)

Part 1

MASTERLIST

The weekend passed more quickly than Y/n expected. With Anne in town, she had a chance to take her mind off things, even though the silence in the house still bothered her. They went out to lunch, watched movies, and talked about everything but Lewis—at least until the last day, when Y/n finally admitted that she missed him. Anne wasn’t surprised, but she didn’t press her either.

Meanwhile, Lewis and the girls had an emotional weekend. The race was intense, and the girls cheered in the Ferrari garage alongside grandma Carmen, cheering for their father.

Pietra, always spontaneous, made a point of shouting "Go, daddy!" right in the middle of the post-race interview, making the journalists laugh. Marie, more reserved, just covered her face with her hands, pretending she didn't know her sister.

Now it was Tuesday, and Y/n had already returned to her routine—or at least she tried to. She was on vacation from the office, Anne had already left, and the big house was silent again. Too silent.

She had never spent so much time away from her daughters, and every corner of the house felt empty without them. Roscoe was her only company, but not even the dog could fill the void left by Marie and Pietra. And, of course, by Lewis.

Y/n sighed, sitting on the couch, fiddling with her phone without really paying attention. But suddenly, a loud horn echoed through the condominium, and she practically jumped off the couch, running to the door. Roscoe ran after her, knowing exactly who had arrived.

Opening the door, Y/n saw the two girls getting out of the car, their faces lit up with huge smiles.

Marie wore the denim jacket she had asked her mother to pack, paired with her black pants and white sneakers. Always stylish and authentic. Pietra, on the other hand, well, she looked different. Very different.

The sparkly dress was expected. But braids in her hair?

Yes. The same braids Lewis wore.

Y/n's eyes widened, holding back a laugh as Pietra and Marie ran to hug her. She bent down, wrapping her arms around her daughters, feeling their familiar scent.

"I missed you guys so much" She murmured, closing her eyes.

"We miss you too, Mommy!" Marie replied, squeezing her tighter.

In the middle of the hug, Y/n looked up and found Lewis. He was leaning against the car, watching the scene with a smile. And God, how handsome he was. How handsome he IS.

His eyes lit up when he saw his wife looking at him like that, and he smiled even wider when she whispered a brief "Hi."

Lewis returned the greeting with a loving look, but then Y/n looked at Pietra's braids again. She arched an eyebrow and pointed at her youngest daughter's hair, exchanging an amused look with Lewis.

He just laughed and gestured with his hand, signaling that he would explain later.

Marie pulled out of the hug and looked at her sister. "Grandma took Pietra to the salon and she wanted to do the same as daddy."

"Exactly the same!" Pietra said excitedly, bending down to pet Roscoe.

Y/n smiled, running her fingers through Marie's straight hair. "And you, my love? You look beautiful in that jacket." Marie smiled shyly and pulled her mother into another hug.

Y/n melted. Since the girls were born, it was like this: Marie was her shadow, and Pietra was her father's copy. Even though physically the two had inherited more of Lewis's features, their personalities balanced everything out.

Suddenly, Pietra looked up at her mother, excited. "Daddy bought you flowers, Mommy!"

Lewis rolled his eyes near the car, while Yin looked at her daughter and then at him, holding back a laugh.

"Oh, really?"

"Yes! And they're red flowers and they have a pretty bow and..."

"PIETRA!" Marie and Lewis said together. The girl's tone was one of authority, her father's was one of amusement.

Lewis chuckled, shaking his head. "That little girl needs to learn how to keep secrets."

Y/n laughed, standing up, but still keeping one hand in Marie's hair. Pietra, oblivious to the small chaos she caused, ran with Roscoe into the house.

Marie looked up at her mother. "I'll go in too."

Y/n kissed the top of her head. "It's okay, love."

As Marie entered, Y/n looked at her eldest daughter and then, Lewis finally approached. He was holding a beautiful bouquet of red roses. Y/n's favorites.

He handed it to her, his gaze soft. "I know a bouquet can't fix everything...but I want you to remember that I still love you very much."

Y/n's heart sank. She held the flowers tenderly, inhaling their scent and blinking back a few tears. "Thank you, Lew. They're beautiful." There was a brief silence between the two, just the soft wind blowing through the garden. "Do you want to come in and talk about it?"

He hesitated for a moment, as if choosing the right words. His gaze softened, and the way he held his car keys indicated he was more nervous than he wanted to show.

"I don't want to talk about this here, with the girls around," he said, his voice filled with genuine regret. "I want to do this right, without rushing, without distractions. I want to take you out to dinner, like before. So we can have some time alone."

There was something vulnerable in his expression, a mixture of guilt and a sincere desire to make amends for whatever harm he had caused. As much as they had both said hurtful words, he clearly carried the weight of it in a deeper way.

Y/n felt her chest warm, gripping the bouquet tighter. Lewis had never been good with words when it came to deep feelings, but she knew that when he tried like that, it was because it really meant something.

He didn't just want to settle the fight. He wanted to reaffirm that, despite everything, the love between them was still unshakable.

Y/n took a deep breath and nodded, her voice as soft as his. "I'd also rather we not talk about this in front of the girls."

Lewis nodded silently, and Y/n stepped aside, making room in the doorway for him to enter.

But he smiled and shook his head. "Actually, I just came to drop off the girls and the bags. My dad is in town with Linda, we planned to meet up."

Y/n smiled slightly, knowing that Lewis didn't see his father that often and that those moments were important.

However, he sighed and ran his hand over the back of his neck, suddenly looking uneasy. "But I promised that nothing would be more important than you. That I would pay more attention to you and the girls." He began to stumble over his words nervously. "If you want, I'll cancel. It's no problem, really. I-"

Y/n's eyes widened, smiling at his sudden rambling. She gently reached up and touched Lewis's face, calming him down. "Lew, it's okay," She said, looking deep into his eyes. "Your father and Linda are your family too. They deserve priority sometimes."

Lewis blinked, absorbing her words, before letting out a small sigh of relief. A grateful smile appeared on his face.

"Thank you, love."

The nickname came out so natural and full of affection that Y/n felt her heart beat faster.

It was as if he were truly giving himself over, breaking the distance that had formed between them over the past few days. The way he called her, with the softness and vulnerability that touched her so much, made her feel reconnected to him, as if everything that had happened up until that moment was something temporary, a storm that would soon pass.

Before they could say anything else, Pietra shouted something inside, making them both laugh.

Y/n laughed and shook her head, calling out, "Marie, help your sister with whatever she's asking for, please!"

Lewis smiled and went to the car to get the girls' bags, placing them in the entrance hall. When he returned, he approached his wife and placed a light kiss on her cheek.

“You’re free tomorrow night” He said, a twinkle in his eye. “I already have some restaurant ideas for us.”

Y/n smiled. "I'll stay."

Lewis gave one last smile before leaving, and Y/n closed the door, now surrounded by the sound of her daughters' cute laughter echoing through the house. But even so, she felt like something was still missing. And she knew exactly what it was.

Holding the bouquet, she walked to the kitchen to put the flowers in water. The girls followed her, excited.

She smiled at the two of them, leaning slightly over the counter. "Now, girls... tell us all the cool things you did on your trip!"

••••••••••••••••••••••••

The day dawned softly, with the first rays of sunlight crossing the bedroom curtains. The house, previously silent, was filled with lively laughter and small, hurried footsteps down the hallway.

Marie and Pietra, full of energy, ran to their mother's room and, without hesitation, jumped on the bed. Roscoe, excited by the excitement, climbed right behind, wagging his tail and settling down next to Y/n.

The daughters' laughter mixed with the dog's low, happy barks, while Y/n, still sleepy, received the girls' excited hugs. She felt the warmth and love in the contact, enjoying that moment of purity before finally promising to get up.

At the mention of breakfast, the girls rushed down the hallway, eagerly leaving the room in an instant. As Y/n turned to get out of bed, her gaze fell on the empty side of the mattress. Still empty.

She knew what she wanted. And no matter what conversation they would have later, one thing was certain: she wanted Lewis back there. With her. With her daughters.

And before she could get out of bed, her cell phone beeped and a message from her husband appeared.

'Linda and my dad are excited to see the girls. They want to hang out with them tonight, and that's a good thing because we have plans later too. I'll pick you up at 7pm. Love you, babe!'

Night fell quickly and the house was silent, except for the distant sound of water running in the girls' bathroom. In the bedroom, Y/n looked at the clothing options spread out on the armchair: an elegant long dress and a more casual combination consisting of a black satin shirt, jeans and heels.

She ran her fingers through the fabric of his shirt, a soft smile playing on her lips. She felt as if she were preparing for a first date. Her heart was pounding with anticipation, something she hadn’t felt in a while. She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering the first time she had gone out with Lewis, all those years ago. She remembered the way he had looked at her that night, as if she were the most precious thing in the world.

The sound of footsteps interrupted her thoughts. Before she could react, a voice came from behind her. “Satin shirt and heels, Mommy.”

Y/n turned around and found Marie standing in the doorway, wrapped in a fluffy robe, with a towel too big for her head. The sight made Y/n laugh softly. Marie looked so small in the midst of so much fabric.

The girl shrugged, a shy smile on her lips. "You look beautiful in both, but I like it better when you wear a shirt. It makes you look... powerful."

Y/n let out a laugh and walked over to Marie, placing a loving hand on her shoulder. Her chest hurt a little from seeing her first baby girl grow up so fast.

"Thank you for the compliment, little one. Then I'll choose that one." She led her daughter out of the room and toward the girls' room. "Now it's your turn, Marie. Choose something just as powerful." Marie laughed and nodded, following her mother.

In the girls' room, Pietra was already wearing her going out clothes and Y/n just needed to help her put on her shoes, since she had her braids done.

As she tied her shoelaces, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The braids were still flawless, and she made a mental note to ask Lewis whose idea it had been in the first place.

She always made sure to respect her daughters’ personalities, helping them get ready with care and patience. As she adjusted Pietra’s clothes and fixed Marie’s hair, she felt grateful for those simple but loving moments.

Suddenly, the sound of a horn echoed outside. Marie and Pietra looked at each other and then looked at their mother.

"Daddy can't come yet!" Pietra exclaimed, starting to leave the room. "Mommy hasn't gotten ready yet!"

Y/n and Marie exchanged an amused look before laughing together. "It's Grandpa and Grandma Linda," Y/n said loudly, so that Pietra could hear her.

Marie smiled and left the room with her mother, she went downstairs excitedly too, happy to see Grandpa and Grandma Linda. When Y/n got to the door, Pietra was already anxious, jumping up and down.

"Open up, Mommy! Open up, Mommy!"

On the other side of the door, she heard the familiar laughter, they probably heard P's excited screams. As soon as she opened it, Pietra let out an excited little scream and threw herself into her grandfather and grandmother's arms.

Linda and Anthony laughed, hugging the little girl.

"You were really excited to see us, huh?" Linda joked.

Y/n laughs. "When Lew said you guys were coming to get them she wouldn't stop talking about you guys!"

Anthony and Linda give Y/n a warm smile as they hug their youngest granddaughter.

Marie soon joined in the group hug. "Miss you, Grandpa and Grandma Linda!"

"I miss you too, little one." Linda hugs her eldest and Anthony strokes his eldest granddaughter's straight hair.

Y/n smiled as she saw the scene.

Linda stepped back a little, studying Pietra and smiling. "I love the braids."

The little girl smiled proudly. "Right? Just like daddy's!" Everyone laughed.

Anthony then bent down and asked, "So, are you guys excited to go out?" The girls smiled and nodded excitedly.

Y/n bent down to their level, fixing Marie's hair and caressing Pietra's cheek, while giving some instructions to her daughters. "Behave yourselves and have fun, okay?"

Linda smiled. "They always behave, don't they, girls?"

They both nodded with shy smiles.

Anthony smiled and they walked towards the car, while Y/n watched the scene with a sweet smile on her face. Linda helps Marie and Pietra put on their seatbelts. Lewis's father waves to Y/n as he starts the car.

Y/n smiles friendly and when they leave the condominium, she closes the door behind her and runs to the stairs, climbing quickly, as now it was her turn to get ready.

When he arrived at his room, he stopped for a moment, looking at the clothes he had laid out earlier. The long dress was still there, but her eyes returned to the black satin shirt and jeans, already deciding what to wear. Marie was right—there was something powerful about that combination, something that made her feel confident and beautiful.

Calmly, Y/n took off the comfortable clothes she was wearing and put on the shirt, feeling the soft fabric slide over her skin. She continued to change her clothes and think about what awaited her tonight.

Y/n went to the large vanity she had and began to put on some light makeup, but something that matched the night and the outfit she was wearing.

As she finished applying mascara to her eyes, her cell phone beeped next to the products on the table, when she picked up the device and smiled when she saw Lewis's name on the screen, along with a message.

'Honey, coming in 10 minutes. Can't wait to see you.'

Her heart warmed, and the smile on her lips became even bigger, feeling a good shiver at the thought that, in a few minutes, she would be with her husband.

And exactly ten minutes later, when she finished arranging her hair in loose waves, a horn echoed outside her house. Y/n smiles and stands up, grabbing her bag and walking down the stairs excitedly, because Lewis had arrived.

When she opened it, she found Lewis standing a few feet from the door and a smile from someone who knew exactly the effect he was having on her. He wore an elegant formal outfit, but what caught her attention most were his loose braids, giving him a charming and relaxed look.

Y/n raised an eyebrow and smiled, tilting her head slightly. "Look at you... You look handsome, huh? Are you going out with someone special today?" She closed the door behind her and approached her husband.

Lewis chuckled softly, leaning in to kiss her on the cheek. "Only with the love of my life and mother of our children." The touch was brief, but full of affection. "You look beautiful in that outfit!" He grabbed his wife's hand and twirled around. Making Y/n laugh and her heels make a satisfying click as she twirled around.

"Your eldest daughter chose the outfit" He said, shaking the shirt slightly, with an amused look.

Lewis smiled even wider, his eyes shining. "Marie has good taste." He leaned close to her ear. "But honestly? You'd look beautiful in anything. Even without."

Y/n laughed, feeling completely melted and hit by Lewis's teasing comment. He noticed and smiled. Satisfied that he had that effect on her for so many years.

Arriving near the car, Lewis opens the passenger door for Y/n and she gets in, smiling in gratitude and resting her bag on her lap, as she watches her husband walk around the Ferrari they had and get in on the driver's side.

Automatically placing one hand on Y/n's thigh, while with the other he put on his seatbelt and started the car.

The night was calm and illuminated by the silver lights of the streetlights and the luxurious facades of the buildings. The city glowed with a sophisticated charm, reflecting in the city's lakes.

Y/n, leaning comfortably on the bench, looked away at her husband and smiled. "Okay, now tell me... Whose idea was it for P's braids?"

Lewis laughed, shaking his head as he remembered the scene in the paddock. "Oh, that's a good story! I don't know if the girls told you," he began, still laughing. "While I was in the pit, Charles came out of nowhere saying that I had a "mini-me" walking around the paddock with my mother. I didn't understand until I looked to the side and saw Pietra with a Ferrari cap, sunglasses and her hair tied back, with defined curls." Y/n laughed out loud, already imagining the scene. "And it doesn't stop there! Pietra looked at me and said: "Daddy, I need to have braids like yours! So everyone knows that I'm your real daughter!"

Y/n covered her mouth, trying to contain her laughter. "Oh my God, Pietra!"

"And of course my mother was thrilled and the next day took her to get her braids done. You should have seen her happiness when she came back to the paddock showing off her hair."

"And what was Marie's reaction?" Y/n asked, amused. As she looked at her husband, with the tattoos of the girls' names tattooed on his neck, made on the day they were born.

"Ah, Marie rolled her eyes and said, "You don't need to have braids to look like Daddy, everyone already knows you look just like him!" Lewis imitated his eldest daughter's intonation, drawing more laughter from Y/n.

"Our daughter has an old soul, Lew!"

He chuckled, nodding. "I know, she talks like she's had 40 years of life experience." Lewis looks at his wife with amusement.

As the laughter faded, Y/n leaned over to fiddle with the car's dashboard, putting on some low music that matched the lightness of the moment.

Her eyes wandered around the brightly lit city, and suddenly she recognized the road. Her lips parted in surprise, and she turned her gaze to Lewis, who was driving with a smirk on the corner of her eye, clearly expecting this reaction.

"Lew..." Y/n began, suspicious. He just kept driving, keeping the suspense.

When they finally approached the restaurant, Y/n's eyes widened and she turned completely to him. "The restaurant where we first met!"

Lewis parked and looked at her with a warm glow in his eyes. "If you're going to work things out, let's go back a little bit." The comforting answer made Y/n's heart warm.

Lewis gently cupped her face and placed a kiss on her cheek before getting out of the car and walking around to open the door for his wife.

"Always the gentleman, Sir Hamilton." Y/n joked as she left.

"For you? Always."

He handed the keys to the valet and took Y/n's hand, intertwining his fingers with hers. The feeling of home, of belonging, of everything returning to its rightful place, took over Y/n.

As soon as they entered, Lewis approached the front desk. "I have a reservation for tonight. In the name of Lewis Hamilton and Y/n Hamilton."

The receptionist checked the list and smiled, nodding. "Of course, Mr. Hamilton. This way, please."

They followed the man through the restaurant, which had a welcoming yet elegant ambiance. The space combined warm wood tones with modern touches of glass and soft lighting. The tables were arranged to provide couples with some privacy, without losing the vibrant atmosphere of the place.

The receptionist led them to an outdoor area, a secluded balcony, where a few tables were set up. The lighting was perfect: fairy lights entwined in the trees around the large lake, which reflected the soft glow of the city. The setting was magical and captivating.

"I hope you enjoy the atmosphere. The waiter will be here to serve you soon." The receptionist said politely before walking away.

Lewis pulled out a chair for Y/n, who sat across from him. Seconds later, the waiter arrived with menus and a bottle of wine, serving them both before leaving.

"Thank you!" Lewis smiles gently.

When they were alone, a comfortable silence hung in the air, until, at the same time, they both opened their mouths to speak.

"I'm sorry!" They stopped and looked at each other, surprised that they had spoken at the same time, and then laughed.

"I guess that means we feel the same way." Y/n smiled, holding the wine glass.

"I guess so." Lewis agreed, leaning his elbows on the table and looking at her fondly.

Y/n lightly swirled the wine glass between her fingers, watching the red liquid move. She took a deep breath before looking up at Lewis.

"I'm... I'm so sorry it got to this point. Spending days apart and putting the girls through it too." Her voice was soft, but full of sincerity. "I hate fighting with you, I hate when things get like this between us." Lewis didn't answer right away, just watched her, allowing her to continue. "I didn't mean to turn our conversation into an argument. I just... I was just tired and frustrated, work was taking its toll on me and I ended up taking it out on you. It wasn't fair."

Lewis sighed, running his hand over his face before finally answering.

"I'm sorry too, love." Her voice sounded full of regret. "When you asked me to leave home... that was a shock. But thinking back now, I understand." Y/n he fell silent, allowing him to continue. “You were right.” He let out a weak, humorless laugh. “I was spending too much time in Maranello. I was so focused on work, on the team, on training… that I didn’t even realize what I was leaving behind.”

He looked away for a moment, staring at the reflection of the light on the wine glasses on the table.

"Three weeks away from you made me realize how much I was wrong. How much I was missing. I only really realized this when Pietra called me crying because I wasn't home to tell her the story before bed."

Y/n felt her chest tighten. She remembered that night. Pietra had clung to her, sobbing softly and asking if Daddy still liked them.

"Lewis..."

He shook his head, his eyes shining with restrained emotion.

"It destroyed me. Knowing that my daughter thought I didn't like her because I wasn't there. And it wasn't just her... Marie too. I realized how distant I was, how much I was letting you carry everything on your own."

Y/n took a deep breath, squeezing the glass a little between her fingers. "But you were also right..." She admitted, her voice lower. "I also buried myself in work. I was frustrated because I felt like you were distant, but the truth is, sometimes I was too."

Lewis reached across the table, waiting for her to take it. "I don't want this anymore, Y/n. I don't want to fight with you anymore, or put our daughters through this. I want to be a present father, I want to be a better husband."

Y/n's eyes filled with tears, but she smiled, holding his hand tightly. "I want to be a better mother and wife too."

Lewis squeezed her fingers between his, as if afraid that if he let go, everything would fall apart again. "Shall we fix this together?"

Y/n nodded, her heart pounding. "Sure. Of course." She smiled.

Lewis smiled, bringing her hand to his lips and placing a soft kiss on her fingers.

"I love you, Y/n."

"I love you, Lewis"

In that moment, they knew they were on the right path to finding each other again, to rebuilding what they had almost lost. Because, at the end of the day, they were still a team. They always had been.

"Now, let's enjoy our evening." Lewis smiled and looked at the menu. "So, do you want the same order as the first time?"

Y/n laughs at the memory and shakes her head. "No! You know, I didn't know you were allergic to shrimp and you had to spend two days with me in the hospital. And we were only on our first date, how embarrassing." She puts her hand over her face.

Lewis laughs out loud. "But that was a reminder, wasn't it? That no matter what, I'd be by your side."

Y/n smiles lovingly. "It was, and I love it."

Dinner was lighthearted, the weight of the argument that had kept them apart for weeks seemed to have been lifted, giving way to smiles and natural conversations. They talked about past moments, laughed at old stories and shared knowing glances, as if they had rediscovered the comfort of each other's company.

Between a glass of wine and another, they also discussed ways to better balance their routine so that the family could spend more time together. It was a sincere dialogue, without demands, just with the mutual desire to do better.

As they left the restaurant, Lewis linked his fingers with Y/n's, walking with her to where the car was parked. The valet handed over the keys, and Lewis nodded in thanks before opening the car door for his wife.

"I had an idea on how we can spend more time together, especially with the girls." He says as he walks in too.

Y/n turned her face to him, curious. "Oh yeah? What did you think?"

"Well... I realized that I need to organize my schedule better so that I don't spend so much time away from home. So, I want to reduce the number of days in Maranello and make up for that time by being here more. Also, I thought about taking Pietra and Marie to see the Ferrari factory. They always ask what it's like there, and I think it would be an incredible experience for them."

"They'll love it. They'll want to touch everything and ask every detail about the cars." Y/n smiled at the idea. "Marie especially, she loves taking part in the races"

Lewis laughed.

"Yes, I'm already preparing to answer a thousand questions about engines and front wings. He starts driving around the city.

Y/n leaned her head back against the bench, thoughtful. "I can also adjust my office routine better so I can spend more time at home. We can arrange a few days to do something just the four of us."

Lewis nodded, satisfied. "That sounds perfect."

They talked a little more about the details of the plan, and when the topic came to an end, Lewis asked, "Do you want to go anywhere else before we go home?"

Y/n smiled and shook her head. "No, we're too old to stay out all night."

Lewis laughed, shaking his head. "Speak for yourself. I could hold out for a few more hours."

"Oh, sure, Lew. As if. Another half hour and you'd be asleep in the middle of the conversation."

He laughed and, without arguing, turned around and headed home.

The journey was peaceful and surrounded by a pleasant atmosphere, the feeling between them was light, filled with genuine joy, as if the storm of the last few weeks had finally dissipated.

When they arrived home, Lewis parked the car in the garage and got out, accompanying Y/n to the door. Even on the short journey, he kept one of his hands on her waist, a natural and instinctive gesture.

"Anne brought some great wine back from France when she traveled. I saved it for us to open together. Would you like to try it?"

"Sure" Lewis replied, following his wife into the kitchen.

Before they could do anything, Roscoe came running up to Lewis, barking and wagging his tail excitedly.

"Hey, buddy" Lewis smiled, bending down to pet the dog, who soon settled down next to him.

"He missed you too, you know? You're the oldest son in the house, Roscoe."

"Good to know at least he wasn't mad at me." Lewis laughed.

As Y/n opened the wine, Lewis approached from behind, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his head on her shoulder. She smiled, enjoying that affection, and handed him a glass before turning around, facing her husband.

It was then that she realized he was deep in thought. His expression changed subtly, his eyebrows slightly furrowed.

"What it was?"

"There's something I've been thinking about since our fight..." Y/n waited, curious, until he finally revealed: "I want to retire from racing."

Y/n's world seemed to stop for a second. "WHAT?!" She exclaimed, looking at him in surprise. And almost dropping the glass she was holding.

Lewis remained calm and repeated: "I want to retire."

Y/n blinked, processing that, and stepped back a little, starting to pace around the kitchen. "Lewis, you can't do this!" Her voice came out fast, almost nervous. "You're only in your second season with Ferrari! You can still win so many titles! And, my God, I never wanted you to give up on your dream because of a silly fight we had. We've worked this out! You can't give up on your dreams!"

Her words came out in a rush, her mind wandering, and she felt her eyes fill with tears.

Lewis smiled and walked closer to her, cupping her face gently. "Y/n, I'm not letting go of a dream," he said softly. "Because everything I've ever dreamed of is right here, right in front of me."

Her eyes filled even more, and a tear fell silently.

"But..." She whispered, not knowing exactly what to say. Without the strength to argue any further, she let herself be wrapped in Lewis's arms, resting her head on his shoulder. "You've always dreamed of this..." Her voice was muffled against his chest.

Lewis stroked her hair and smiled against the side of her head. "My dream has always been to have a family. To have you guys. Racing has been a big part of my life, but it's not my whole life. I want to be here for every moment of the girls, for every phase of our life together. That...that's what really matters to me."

Y/n closed her eyes, absorbing those words, feeling herself overcome by an intense wave of emotion.

"Do you really want this?"

"I do. With all my heart." She pulled back a little, looking into his eyes, and Lewis smiled, touching her face tenderly. "I love you" he said softly.

Y/n smiled, still with tears in her eyes, and shook her head. "I love you too, Lewis."

Lewis slid his fingers down Y/n's face before finally sealing his lips on hers. The kiss was slow, full of feelings, as if it sealed everything they had just said. Their lips moved in perfect sync, and a small smile formed in the middle of the kiss, as if they were celebrating that moment. It was a kiss of love, of understanding, of silent promises.

Suddenly, a horn honked loudly from outside, breaking the moment. Y/n smiled against Lewis's lips and pulled away, chuckling softly.

"The girls are here" she said, giving him one last peck before walking away completely. "I'll go get them."

Lewis smiled, watching her rush towards the door. As soon as she opened it, the girls practically threw themselves into her arms, laughing and hugging their mother tightly.

"Mommy!" Pietra exclaimed excitedly, while Marie held tightly onto Y/n's waist.

Y/n laughed and bent down, planting kisses on them before saying in a mysterious voice, "I think there's something waiting for you in the kitchen."

Pietra's eyes widened, always the most excited, and suddenly screamed: "OH MY GOD, IS THERE STRAWBERRY ICE CREAM?"

She ran into the house with her sister, running towards the kitchen without even confirming if what she said was true. Linda, Anthony and Y/n burst out laughing, infected by the girl's naive excitement.

"Thank you for keeping them" Y/n said, smiling at them.

"Imagine, dear" Linda replied. "We are the ones who appreciate you spending time with our granddaughters."

Y/n smiles. "We can arrange dinner here tomorrow. Are you up for it?"

"Sure!" Linda says smiling.

"We'd love it!"

"Great then" Y/n smiles. With that, they say their goodbyes, exchanging hugs before Linda and Anthony leave.

Y/n closed the door and began walking to the kitchen, hearing the mix of her daughters' and Lewis' voices echoing through the room. The sound filled her chest with a cozy warmth, and an involuntary smile appeared on her face.

When he entered the kitchen, he saw a scene that made his heart warm even more: Marie was on Lewis' lap, along with Pietra, while the two laughed and chatted excitedly.

Suddenly, Marie turned to Y/n with a bright smile and asked, "Did Daddy come home?"

Y/n looked at Lewis, who was already watching her with a tender smile. Her heart clenched with love.

"Yes, my dear. Daddy's back!" She said softly.

The girls squealed excitedly and wrapped their father in a tight hug, making Lewis laugh. He then looked at Y/n and extended one of his arms to her.

"Come here, love"

Y/n smiled and walked over to them, joining the family's embrace. Between laughter, kisses and hugs, she knew, in that moment, that they were exactly where they were supposed to be.

Author: So, my initial idea was to have the ending with Y/n saying she was pregnant with her third child, but I didn't know if you guys would like it, so I changed it to the idea of Lewis retiring. I don't know, which one would you like more? (By the way, whoever read the introduction above, could you answer the question I left? About continuing with a parallel universe of this family?)

[razorblade180]

Alter Ego

Summer:Mom, can I dye my hair?

Weiss:Nope. Find another way to rebel.

Summer:It’s not about rebelling. There’s an underground open mic concert in Mantle. I’m tired of wearing hoods and masks as a disguise. It gets in the way of my singing.

Weiss:….

Summer:What?

Weiss:You’ve seen me in a black wig and red eyes and thought you had to dye your hair? Make an alter ego. *points to closet*

Summer:Really!?

Weiss:Yeah. Knock yourself out. Find what works.

Summer:Yussss! *dives into closet*

Two hours passed by and a lot of clothes begin pile up.

Jaune:*walks in* Hey I’m back. Brought coffee.

Nora:And friends~

Ruby:Technically family. I’m here to raid your fridge.

Ren:I’m here to make sure Nora doesn’t.

Weiss:Can you stop Ruby? *sips coffee*

Ren:One is hard enough.

Ruby:What’s with the fashion storm? Coco call you for a show?

Weiss:My daughter is currently in the closet trying on her fortieth altar ego disguise for an underground concert.

Jaune:So in the end, I did have a child with Bleiss.

Weiss:You and her had many things, a child is not one of them.

Jaune:Not for lack of trying.

Weiss:*red* That’s for sure.

Ruby:You two are gross.

Summer:You’re all gross if you ask me!

Weiss:Are you ready yet!? You have an entire audience now.

Summer:Oh yeah! This is the one! I’m definitely feeling it!

The door slides open and Summer jumps out. Time itself felt a thousand times slower as a bright red ponytail came into view. Stunning green contact lens caused coffee to go down poorly, choking Weiss while the others felt frozen.

Summer popped out with the widest grin. She wore a small black leather jacket over a dark green shirt with yellow nerves running down it from the left shoulder. Black tights were worn under a matching studded miniskirt that paired will with green and yellow laced black boots. Summer never felt cooler in her life!

WRNJR:..

Summer:Pretty awesome right!? I’m usually not into skirts but i figured if I’m trying to be unrecognizable, this is how to do it! Oh! Maybe I need punk rock gloves or something. How are feeling about the red wig and green hair combo?

Jaune:Umm-

Summer:Gonna be honest, I think I look pretty cute. Never tried these colors together like…it works! *grinning*

Ruby:Are we married to the idea of the ponytail?

Summer:It’s for head banging on stage! It’ll probably come out a little later or if I get a headache. Dad, how do I look?

Jaune:…*smiles* Like you’re ready to wow the world.

Summer:Hehe, right!? I can see why you like red so much auntie. I’m feeling pretty confident right about now. *stands proudly*

Ren:Like you’re invincible?

Summer:Yeah! You get it.

Nora:*smiles warmly* You’re going to need a name.

Weiss:Be better than me your aunt.

Ruby:Bleiss was a good idea.

Weiss:No, it was the only idea and it stuck.

Summer:Welp…Winter is taken. How about Autumn?

WRNJR:Try again….

Summer:Wow, tough crowd. Hmmm.

Weiss:….Gild. Like the process.

Summer:Aah, that’s nice. Has a sense of irony to it considering this is a disguise! Not to mention the yellow. Gild, people can chant that! Now for a last name for the announcers…*rubs chin*

Nora:JNRR

Ren:You’re asking for her to get caught. Especially if you want her to spell it like I think you do.

Jaune:…Go with Arkos. With a “k”

Weiss:!? Jaune, are you…alright with that?

Jaune:*nods* I never really got to use it. Might as well finally be a code name.

Summer:Isn’t using something close to your last name a little risky?

Jaune:Trust me, nobody will get it.

Summer:I guess that’s true if I spell it like you said. Heh, I kinda always wanted to use your surname in something. Schnee gets bothersome.

Weiss:Agreed.

Summer:And hey, it’s kinda like I’m still honoring you too auntie! I can’t use Summer, but Arkos is pretty close to Arc-Rose.

Ruby:That’s definitely one way to look at that name. Hehe, I appreciate the sentiment.

Gild:Gild Arkos. Hmm, not half bad. Let’s make it a test run and i can work out the details if this goes well. Oh this concert is gonna rule! I can finally go all out and sing songs i don’t get the chance to. I gotta go find my journals and pick! Thanks guys! Love ya. *runs off*

……..

Weiss:I’m sorry this spiraled so quickly. You can take the coffee back and raid the fridge.

Ren:I don’t think anyone would’ve imagined out of all the makeup combinations…Do you think we could convince her to change contacts?

Nora:I’m sure when she stops caring about what she should sing on a “proper stage” this phase will end.

Jaune:It’s fine guys. She’s happy. Besides, if she’s like her mother, it’ll be a random occurrence. That being said, I never realized our kids might only know Pyrrha’s image through her statue.

Ruby:We don’t exactly have many photos together, do we? She we show her?

Jaune:Maybe another time. Let my girl be a rockstar.

Nora:You just don’t want your daughter to see you in a dress.

Jaune:And?

Weiss:*rubs his back* I guess the world really is full of surprises. You sure you’re alright?

Jaune:Cut me a little slack. I may not be invincible but I know how to roll with the punches. *grins* If you think I need cheering up though, I’m sure Bleiss has some ideas.

Weiss:*blushing*…She might.

Ruby:Eugh. Raiding your fridge. C’mon you two. *walking away*

Ren:Ruby, don’t you literally sleep with her brother at his office for fun?

Ruby:And that right there is why I’m helping Nora get passed you so she can help eat everything. You’ve drawn your line in the sand.

Nora:Honestly I’m interested in the idea of changing my wardrobe for laughs. Remember my goth phase? That was fun.

[astars-things]

For the Jack Hughes x teenage daughter reader request, would you be comfortable doing reader going through her first break up and him getting upset that she never told him she was dating to begin with? you can chose the ending if you would like!

reader is 16

I looked at my phone and saw a text from my boyfriend, now ex, saying Sorry, I just don’t think this is working out. That was it. No explanation. No closure. I sat there on my bed curled up in a hoodie that was way too big for me, my cheeks damp from crying. My phone in my hand his last text still unread. I knew I should delete it, block him, do something to make it easier, but I couldn’t.

I had been dating Ryan for six months. Six months of secret dates, late-night FaceTime calls, and butterflies every time he smiled at me. And now it was over. Just like that.

I wiped my nose on my sleeve, exhaling shakily. I had been holding in the sobs for too long, trying to be quiet, but apparently, I wasn’t quiet enough.

A knock at my door.

“Y/N?” My dad’s voice was hesitant. “You okay?”

I sucked in a breath, forcing myself to sound normal. “Yeah, just tired.”

There was a pause, then the door creaked open anyway. My dad wasn’t the type to just walk away when he thought something was wrong. I turned my head away, but he wasn’t fooled. His eyes immediately softened when he saw my face.

“Hey…” He sat on the edge of my bed, his brows knitting together. “What happened?”

I shook my head, biting my lip. “It’s stupid.”

Jack Hughes, NHL superstar, my dad, was not easily convinced. He reached over, brushing a tear off my cheek with his thumb. “If it’s got you crying, it’s not stupid.”

I hesitated. The last thing I wanted was to get into this. But when I saw how genuinely worried he was, something inside me cracked. “Ryan broke up with me,” I whispered.

I felt him stiffen. “Ryan?”

Crap.

I winced, peeking up at him. His expression had completely changed—his jaw clenched, eyebrows furrowed, and his usual soft blue eyes hardened with something else.

“Who the hell is Ryan?”

I shrank under his stare. “Dad—”

He stood up, running a hand through his hair. “You were dating someone? Since when?”

My stomach twisted. I had dreaded this conversation. I knew he wouldn’t like it, which was exactly why I never told him. “A few months,” I admitted, my voice small.

He let out a humorless laugh. “A few months? Y/N, are you kidding me? You were dating some guy for months, and I didn’t even know?”

“I didn’t want you to freak out,” I mumbled.

“Well, guess what? I’m freaking out now.”

I flinched at the sharpness in his tone. He sighed immediately after, pressing his fingers to his temples. “Y/N…why didn’t you tell me?”

I sniffled, looking down at my lap. “Because I knew you’d be like this.”

“Like what?”

“Overprotective. Annoying. Acting like I’m still a little kid.”

Dad’s expression softened, but the frustration was still there. He crouched down in front of me, his voice gentler now. “Y/N, I’m your dad. It’s my job to be overprotective. I just—I thought we told each other stuff.”

That stung. Because we did. My dad and I had always been close, ever since I was little. But this was different.

“I didn’t want you to scare him off,” I admitted, wiping my nose. “Or treat me differently.”

He sighed, rubbing his face. “Okay. Okay.” He sat back on the bed, staring at the ceiling like he was processing this information. Then he glanced at me again. “So…Ryan. What happened?”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “He said, "Sorry, I just don’t think this is working out."

Dad frowned. “Then he’s an idiot.”

I let out a small, watery laugh. “That’s not helpful.”

“I mean it.” He shook his head. “Anyone who makes my daughter cry like this doesn’t deserve her.”

I felt the tears building again, but this time for a different reason. “I just…I really liked him, Dad.”

“I know, kid.” He wrapped an arm around me, pulling me into his side. “I hate that you’re hurting.”

I let myself lean into him, my head resting against his chest like I used to when I was younger. “It just sucks."

He kissed the top of my head. “Yeah, it does.” A beat passed.

“And next time some idiot tries to date you, I’m gonna need a full background check, a resume, and three references.”

I laughed, the first real one all day. “Not happening.”

Jack grinned, squeezing my shoulder. “It was worth a shot.”

[bored-with-a-clingy-girl]

papa pariah ?

years after the ghost king was forced were into the sarcophagus of forever sleep. he Began to wake, to fell his power return to him.

when his power came back in full he broke free. as he felt his the cold wind greet him, welomeing him back. he took a long strech and walk out of the sarcophagus. as he made his way around his castle his saw a young boy with flaming white hair, pale green skin pointed ears, and what looked like fangs. but what got him the most was the red eyes.

he seemed to be taking to somebody, calling them " sister " not moment laster a girl younger then him come into view. she looked like the Carbon copy of the boy that locked him away. she Floated towards the boy. saying something that shocked his core. " dan, come on mom wants us to get ready to go to the movies. " the boy looked surpised before he smiled and rused off . " woooooo! movie night!" he heard him Holler as he floo off. the girl just giggled and smiled.

her mother must be the boy that sealed him away. but why were they here in his castle? he heard the sound of horse hooves and clanging armor. ah his knight was here to Protect his keep From these intruders. he heard fright knight get off his steed. he waited to see what would happen next. " princess Daniella your mother wishes to let you know that you and prince dan may go on your school Field trips. " pariah felt his head spin. princess? prince? he nevered courted the boy! and they Certainly never- the dawning horror of Realization hit him. their cores. their cores must have marged while they were fight. he can thing of two times while they were fighting that might have happened. he must have gotten him pregenet twice. his core waiting for one To mature and waiting for the right time for him to have the ghostling. and then repeating the prosses again with the girl. he watched as the girl daniella smiled . " yes! mom said yes, thanks fright night " the boy came down and the left.

he followed them, there he was the mother of his childern, floating in the air looking for his childern. he watched as they floo to their mother. " mama! " the girl was Excited when a green Echo blast. sent the girl into a near by building. their mother follwed were the blast came from. he glared at the odd looking knight. he looked him " ghost boy " and " phantom " the boy looked furious. " skulker! " the knight Apparently named skulker. got readdy to shoot again when the boy dan shot after the knight.

their mother went to girl and helped her up. the girl looked mad as well. " i'm going to kill skulker! " the boy's hair grow looking more like raging fire. just like his crown. the shot at the knight and started to malt part of the armor. pariah was in aw, he knew that no one else but him could Possess that kind of power. a ray of ice froze the knight in place as he looked around in panic. the girl took a deep breath and cupped her hands around her mouth and let out a ghostly wail breaking him to Pieces.

those were his childeren, they had power like he did. Immense power that could bring kingdoms to their knees and beg for murcy. their mother froze the blob thing in the knights helmet and sucked it and the armor into some odd Flagon. he watched as his childen and their mother turned human. their mother picked dani and they walked off. his son looked much like he did at that age and his see his sister in his daughters face.

he deal with his childeren being halfs, that just makes them more rare and more powerful.

[novashelby]

"Yes, Miss. Carleton?"-Tommy Shelby x Reader One-Shot

Pairing: Tommy Shelby x Reader Warning: mention of sex, age gap, language Word Count: 944 Summary: Tommy Shelby never knew his old fling, May Carleton, had a daughter until she came with a package and a naughty attitude.

So much for a hiatus. I got this idea and I really wanted to write it. Please enjoy!

“So,” the young lady sitting across from him on the leather pleated couch said. Tommy looked up from the sealed envelope, his glasses resting on the arch of his nose. He studied her for a moment. Her eyes resembled her mother, but other than that, she must have taken her father’s looks. May had intense eyes, he thought, just that like that. “You’re the man that she was shacking up with? Tommy Shelby.” 

Tommy pursed his lips, taking off his specks and wiping across his forehead. “May never told me she had a daughter. Where were you when I was,” his words trailed off, his hand waving. “When I was, y’know, how did you put it?” 

She grinned. “Hitting the sack? Getting lucky? Or,” she paused, leaning forward. She folded her hands and offered a teasing grin. “For you horse loving people…rolling in the hay?” Tommy grabbed a smoke and lit it without breaking eye contact. His tongue swiped over the filter. “Tell me, Mr. Shelby, was there hay rolling?”

His brows arched. He responded to her obvious tone with something more dry-blunt and unamused. “No, I don’t like hay poking at me balls.” She laughed lightly and stood, walking towards the liquor cabinet. 

She paused mid way, turning back on her heels and thumbing behind her. “Do you mind? You see, I traveled quite a bit to come and deliver that envelope specially for you. And here you are, not even offering me a drink.” He motioned for her to help herself.

“Now, Miss. Carleton-”

“Oh, God!” she said, amusement laced within her words. She grabbed the whiskey bottle and looked at him. “Miss. Carleton. Give me a fuckin’ break,” she sighed, opening the bottle with her teeth and pouring a heavy hand. “Say,  Mr. Shelby, is that what you called my uppity posh mother when your cock was shoved to the ball up her cunt?”

Tommy wasn’t often shocked by things, but how did May raise a girl that talked like that? Even he, himself, was tempted to clean that mouth of her. But as he looked over her, he thought a bit more creatively about how he could. He blinked away the thoughts of shoving his fingers in that mouth of hers before his trousers exposed him. “I apologize, Mss. Carleton,” he said, not calling her anything, but. She snorted, putting down the whiskey with a clink. 

“Tommy, Tommy…Shelby.” She started to make her way to him, her finger playing along the rim of the glass. “Tommy Shelby…Tommy, Tommy Shelby. Hmmm.” Tommy felt his back hit his desk as she pressed her body against his chest, her red manicured fingers caressing his cheek until he caught it. “You’re a mysterious man, Mr. Shelby-”

“Am I, yeah?” he said, squeezing her hand, but not pushing her away. Instead, he breathed in her scent; a flowery perfume that hardly matched her personality. The whiskey on her breath, however, was well suited. “And what do you know about that?”

“That despite being a man of many secrets,” she said, putting her whiskey down and placing her free hand on his chest. She dragged her fingers down until they could loop on his leathered belt. “There is a single woman that has fucked Tommy Shelby and not spilled all those dirty secrets. They talk. They say these things and I knew, I just knew, that when my mother had a special delivery for the Tommy Shelby, I just had to investigate all these awful, crude allegations.”

He grinned slightly, giving into the little games. His hand dropped hers as it made its way to rub her tender, soft cheek. “And what do they say, darling? Perhaps I can deny or confirm these allegations.” His voice was low and husky, and it sent a shiver down her back. 

She swirled out her tongue to meet his fingers, licking at them. She caught his thumb, sucking it in her mouth before pushing it back out with a pop. As she spoke, his thumb played with her bottom lip, smearing her lip rouge. “That you are also a man of many talents and God gifted you with something quite impressive.”

“And what do they say about this thing that is quite impressive-”

“That it’s rather large,” she said, closing her eyes for a second, rubbing her face into his hand. 

In return, he grinned. “Should you not be heading home?”

“Are you above fucking me because of our conflict of interest?” she teased, finger flicking at the metal clasp on his belt. “A man of many trades. Far more disgusting, vile, nasty, and grotesque than fucking me, don’t you say?” She loosened the belt and dragged down her hand, massaging him through his trousers. “Mmm, yes, I can feel exactly what they say-”

“Fuck,” he breathed, his other hand moving to her hip, pulling her closer. Shaking his head, he said, “no, No I don’t-I don’t think I’m above that.” 

“Good.” She gripped his chin and pulled him down. Their lips just hovered, just about touching. So close, they could taste the whiskey on each other’s breaths. “Now, I’m sick of this Tommy Shelby, the gentleman. I want to meet Tommy Shelby, the gangster. The one that is going to bend me over this nicely polished wooden desk and fuck me. Disgusting, vile, and-”

“Nasty?” His hand dropped from her cheek and wrapped around her neck, fingers squeezing. She let out a little whimper of a moan, nodding. “You want it nasty, huh?” She nodded again, feeling his fingers choking her. “Good. Because after hearing this nasty mouth talk, there is only one way to fuckin’ fix it.”

[arcana-greenleaf]

Can I please request Garrett as a girl dad? 😭😭😭 Even as a vampire he'd be so gentle and loving! I'd love to see him with a human mate who happens to be a single mama.

First off, thank you so much for this request! :) I absolutely loved the idea of Garrett as a girl dad, and I had so much fun writing this. I decided to mix headcanons with full scenes to try and bring his relationship with Reader and Lily to life. I hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it! 💖

Garrett had wandered into the small town looking for nothing in particular. He never stayed in one place too long, but something about this town felt... different.

He first saw you at the grocery store, struggling with a tired, fussy toddler on your hip while trying to pay for the groceries. Lily, barely four years old, was squirming in your arms, clearly unhappy about something. Garrett wasn’t one to intervene in human affairs, but when he heard the cashier’s rude tone, something inside him bristled. “Look, lady, if you don’t have enough-” You sighed, clearly exhausted and completely done with the cashier, and reached for your wallet with one hand while the other tried to keep Lily still. “I do. I just need a second.” Something in Garrett made him want to help. In a blur too fast for human eyes to catch, he stepped beside you and placed a crisp bill on the counter. “This should cover it.” You turned to him startled and confused as Lily blinked up at him with wide, curious eyes. “Oh, no, you don’t have to!” “I insist,” Garrett said smoothly, flashing a charming smile. He turned to Lily and spoke in a gentle manner that surprised even him. “Besides, it looks like this little one deserves a treat after being so patient.” Lily studied him carefully, then, in a completely unexpected move, reached for his wild hair. “You look like a pirate!” Garrett chuckled. “Aye, that I do, lass.” You shook your head but smiled nonetheless. “Thank you. That was… kind of you.” Garrett tipped an imaginary hat. “Anytime.” And just like that, he was hooked.

You have been hesitant at first. A mysterious, handsome man appearing out of nowhere and taking an interest in you and your daughter? It sounded like the start of a fairy tale….or a horror story. But Garrett was patient. He didn’t push nor did he invade your space. He simply kept showing up wherever you guys went, always ready with a smile for Lily and a knowing look for you. One evening, he found you sitting on the porch, visibly exhausted, while Lily played in the yard. He took a seat as well and watched the little girl chase fireflies. “She likes you,” you admitted, almost begrudgingly. Garrett smirked. “What’s not to like?” You rolled your eyes at him. “She doesn’t warm up to people easily.” Garrett watched as Lily toddled over to him and held up a tiny hand. He extended his own, letting her place a glowing firefly in his palm. “Seems to me she’s got good instincts.” Lily beamed and gave him a toothy grin. “You can keep it!” Garrett smiled endearingly. "An honoured gift, princess." Your heart softened a little more.

Despite his wild, rebellious nature, Garrett is shockingly gentle with Lily. He makes sure to always speak softly to her, even when he’s passionate or frustrated about something else.

It starts as a joke, but Garrett becomes the designated client at Lily's hair salon. Lily loves his long hair and insists on playing with it, weaving it into messy braids and pigtails, and adorning it with colourful hair clips and flower crowns. At first, he pretended to hate it but it was really obvious that he loved it. He even begged you to teach him how to braid hair so he could do Lily’s hair as well.

(you are planning to buy Lily a kid's makeup set next, Garret would look really good with sparkly blue eyeshadow)

Garrett has fought in wars and challenged authority figures, but he will sit through an entire tea party wearing a ridiculous hat if it makes Lily happy. you secretly take pictures

He feels an overwhelming instinct to keep you safe. Whether it's shielding you from supernatural threats or simply ensuring Lily never crosses the street without holding his hand, he is hyper-aware of your safety.

Let's be real he has centuries of knowledge and firsthand historical experience, so bedtime stories with Garrett are next level. Lily gets to hear about the Revolutionary War in dramatic detail, but he always makes sure to tone it down to keep it child-friendly. Just you wait when she is old enough so he can help her with her History homework…

As a vampire, he doesn’t sleep, eat, or get tired, but he adjusts to human life. He learns how to cook even if he doesn’t eat the food. The food was inedible in his humble beginnings but with time he started getting better. He even started preparing Lily's lunch and is always trying to arrange it into some animal-looking thing with a little note. While cooking, Garrett wears a ‘kiss the cook’ apron only because you got it for him.....he huffs and puffs if you don't actually kiss him.

It happened on accident. Garrett had been in your lives for almost a year by now, seamlessly blending into your little world. Lily adored him, and you – well, you had stopped pretending you didn’t a long time ago. One night, Lily was half-asleep after the bedtime story when she reached for him instead of you. “Daddy,” she murmured, curling into his chest. Garrett froze. Time stopped. You were standing in the doorway, eyes wide and a hand over your mouth. Lily’s breathing evened out, already lost to sleep again, but Garrett felt something shift deep in his immortal cold heart. Later, when you met his gaze and whispered, “Are you okay?” he swallowed hard, his voice rough when he finally spoke. “I’ve never been better.” Garrett didn’t move for a long time. The sound of Lily’s sleepy voice echoing in his head felt like a shock to his system. Something shifted and clicked into place in a way he never knew was possible. Daddy. He had lived through centuries, fought wars, and roamed aimlessly through life without a single attachment. And yet here he was, with a tiny human trusting him enough to give him a title that carried more weight than anything he had ever known. He glanced up at you. You were still watching him with an unreadable expression, but your eyes were soft. Softer than he had ever seen them. Slowly, you stepped forward, kneeling beside the couch where he sat. “She already thinks of you that way,” you whispered. “I think… I think she has for a while.” Garrett carefully adjusted Lily in his arms, his fingers brushing through her soft curls. “And you?” You sucked in a breath but didn't look away. "You know how I feel." He did. He had known for weeks, maybe even months, but hearing it aloud, seeing it in your eyes – it was completely different. Garrett reached for your hand, his cool fingers tracing over your knuckles. “I’ve never had anything like this,” he admitted. “Not in all my years.” You finally gave him a small smile. “And?” He exhaled, brushing a kiss against Lily’s forehead. “And I never want to lose it.” You leaned in, resting your forehead against his shoulder. “You won’t.” For the first time in his existence, Garrett believed it.

Garrett never expected to find a home, much less a family. But in you and Lily, he found both. And for the first time in centuries, he wasn’t just a wanderer anymore. He was only yours.

[vigilante-3073]

Daddy's Girl

Gregory House x Pregnant Female Reader

Summary: Y/N is a stay at home mother who is at the end of her rope with an unruly toddler. She makes a desperate call to her husband in hopes that he can stop is daughter's rampage.

TW: Tantrums, mentions of emotional distress/depression/pregnancy, House being House.

D/N: Daughter's name

Y/N was an author and had taken a step back from her job when D/N was born. Y/N and House had been married for eight years and had one rambunctious three year old child.

D/N was a daddy's girl from the moment she was born, clinging to House at every opportunity. She was her father's little angel and could do absolutely no wrong when he was around.

Y/N had recently found out that she was pregnant, now eighteen weeks along with hormones that kept her emotions on a hairpin trigger.

D/N had recently encountered some big emotions of her own, dissipating into screaming tantrums at the smallest things. Y/N could only handle so much, already running around the house from sunrise to sunset every day.

Y/N cleaned, cooked and looked after their daughter every day. House was often working until the early hours of the morning, sleeping in late and leaving for work when he woke up.

Y/N felt like she was losing her mind, barely able to keep it together when D/N started wailing about being given the wrong color plate.

D/N threw the plate onto the ground with a shriek, falling to the floor dramatically and rolling around while wailing like a banshee.

Y/N wanted to walk out, but she tried to remain calm and talk to her daughter. Every time she opened her mouth, D/N screamed louder and drowned out the sound of her voice.

Y/N felt her eyes well with tears, staring down at the squirming child as she kicked and pounded her fists on the floor. Y/N grabbed her cellphone and walked down the hallway, stepping into the bedroom and slamming the door behind herself.

Tears began pouring down her cheeks as she dialed her husband's number with shaking hands. Y/N ran a hand through her hair as she paced across the floor, listening to the line ring.

The line clicked as he answered the call, "What's wrong?" House asked.

Y/N's lip trembled, "D/N is a monster. I gave her the wrong color plate and she threw her food at me! She threw her food at me and started screaming! I can't handle it, Greg. I need- I need your help. She won't stop and I can't do it anymore," Y/N sobbed.

"Is she hurt?" House asked.

"No, she's just- she's evil! She won't stop screaming and she won't listen to me. This happens every day and I can't take it," Y/N hiccuped, breath catching in her chest as she continued to pace.

"Alright, calm down. You need to take a breath, okay? " House said.

Y/N huffed, "I can't do this, Greg," She mumbled.

"Yes, you can. Catch your breath and take a minute before you go back out there. If she's still losing her mind, ignore her," House stated.

"There's gotta be something wrong with her, Greg. She's- She is driving me crazy. She just keeps screaming and wailing all the time, it's endless," Y/N said.

"Alright, I'm on my way. Just calm yourself down, okay?" He questioned.

Y/N nodded, "Okay," She mumbled, pulling the phone from her ear and hanging up.

...

House could hear his daughter screaming from the hallway as he approached their apartment. He knew that D/N could be fussy, but he had never heard her behave like that.

House unlocked the door and opened it, grimacing at the sheer volume of his daughter's wails. He stepped into the apartment, quickly spotting his wife sitting in the armchair.

Y/N watched her daughter roll around on the floor with a blank expression, her arms were crossed and her eyes were red.

Y/N had been having trouble with weight loss during this pregnancy, House assumed that it was an increase of morning sickness but he didn't ask. Now that he saw what his wife dealt with every day, it was obvious that Y/N was severely depressed.

"Hey!" House yelled.

D/N stopped screaming immediately, rolling onto her belly and looking up at her father. House watched her as she stood up, rushing over to him with a whimper.

"You threw your food at your mother. No hugs for bad girls," House stated.

His daughter's lip trembled as more tears welled up in her eyes, Y/N shook her head silently, obviously assuming that House would cave in.

"Go to your room and don't come out until I tell you to. Go, now," House said sternly.

D/N turned and ran to her bedroom, slamming the door before she threw herself onto her bed, resuming her tantrum with full force.

"Is she always like that?" House asked.

"Every day," Y/N mumbled, staring off into space.

House pulled his phone from his pocket, dialing a number before lifting the phone up to his ear.

"Who are you calling?" Y/N asked, he held up a finger.

"Hey, I need a favor. Can you come watch D/N for a few hours?" House questioned, listening to the person's response.

"Perfect, thank you... Oh, and you might want to bring some earplugs," House said, pulling the phone away from his ear and hanging it up.

House made his way over, sitting down in the couch beside his wife. He took her arm, pressing his fingertips against her wrist and looking down at his watch.

"What are you doing?" She asked.

"Checking your pulse," He said, falling silent as he continued to count.

House released her arm, "Feeling okay?" He asked.

She shrugged, "I guess," Y/N muttered.

"Don't guess, be honest," House said.

"I'm tired, Greg. I'm just so unbelievably tired," Y/N stated.

"Why didn't you tell me how bad it was?" House asked.

"It wouldn't make a difference, she doesn't act like that around you... She just hates me," Y/N mumbled.

"D/N loves you... She's a toddler and they throw tantrums. She'll grow out of it soon enough," House said.

"Yeah, right as the next baby grows into it... I mean, if I can't handle it already, what am I gonna do with her and a newborn? There's a part of me that just wants to leave and never come back," Y/N said.

"You're depressed," House stated.

Y/N looked over at him, "A diagnosis doesn't change anything," She replied.

"There are treatments we can try," House offered.

"I don't want to try anything," Y/N said.

"Fine, we can talk about it another time, but we are going to talk about it at some point," House said.

A gentle knock sounded from the door, "Stay here. I'll be right back," House said, making his way over. House opened the door, stepping out of the apartment and closing the door behind himself.

"Is everything okay?" Wilson asked.

"No, Y/N is depressed. It's bad," House said.

"What are you going to do?" Wilson questioned, shifting uncomfortably on his feet.

"I have no idea," House stated.

"Let me know if I can do anything to help," Wilson said.

"Right now, I just need you to watch the kid," House said, Wilson nodded.

"You can go in, Y/N is in the living room and kid is in her room. I just need to make a call," House said.

...

House walked Y/N into the office, she stiffened when she realized where he had taken her, "House, I'm not doing this," She snapped.

"You need to," House stated.

"I don't want to," Y/N replied, moving to step around him. House caught her wrist, he opened his mouth to say something before the door opened.

"Doctor House, this must be Y/N. Nice to meet you, I'm Doctor Nolan," The man said, making his way over to them.

"Your husband told me that you've been having a bit of a hard time recently. Why don't we step into my office and talk?" Doctor Nolan asked.

"Respectfully, I'm not looking for a therapist," Y/N said.

"I'm not looking for a patient... Just give me forty-five minutes of your time and you can be on your way," Doctor Nolan said.

Y/N shifted on her feet, she looked around herself nervously, "I don't want to do this," Y/N said softly.

"Can you tell me why?" Doctor Nolan questioned.

"I don't want to lose my kids," She mumbled, House tensed.

"Nobody is going to take your children. Right now, our main concern is you and your health," Doctor Nolan said.

"If I can talk to him, you can talk to him," House assured.

"Okay," Y/N mumbled hesitantly.

"Right this way, Missus House," Doctor Nolan said, gesturing in the direction of his office.

Y/N made her way into his office, Doctor Nolan followed after her before closing the door behind them.

House took a seat in the one of the chairs, waiting patiently while Y/N spoke to the doctor.

House knew that antenatal depression was nothing to mess around with. Y/N was terrified of what could happen if she admitted to having the condition.

House hoped that talking to a Psychiatrist would help her get a handle on her emotions. Y/N did not neglect or abuse their child, but she had definitely been neglecting herself.

House was beginning to wonder when the last time he had seen her eat or drink something was. Y/N barely slept and she pushed her body to its limit every day.

It wasn't good for her and it certainly wasn't good for the baby.

House could feel himself beginning to get antsy as an hour passed. The door opened and Y/N made her way back out into the waiting room with Doctor Nolan following closely behind her.

"I'd like you to come back and see me, Y/N. I believe that you can really benefit from some counseling. Hopefully you're willing to consider it," Doctor Nolan said, Y/N nodded.

"Take me home," She muttered, walking out of the office.

"How bad is it?" House asked.

"Your wife needs you, House... I can't see this ending well if she doesn't have an adequate support system behind her," Doctor Nolan said.

"Is she a danger to herself?" House asked.

"In my personal opinion, no," The Doctor said.

House nodded, "Thanks for seeing her," He said.

"Of course," Doctor Nolan nodded.

House followed his wife out of the office, he knew that he would need to make some changes to his lifestyle.

House hoped that Cuddy would allow him to take some time away from the hospital. Even if it wasn't exactly what he wanted, it was what he had to do.

[painted-flag]

TENDER, part 3/3 - Marcus Acacius

₊˚⊹♡ your father leaves on a campaign to germania, entrusting you under the care of his good friend marcus acacius. ₊˚⊹ marcus acacius x fem!reader ₊˚⊹ warnings: MDNI 18+ age gap, smut, oral (f!receiving), fingering, PiV. ₊˚⊹ part one | part two | part three | ₊˚⊹ masterlist.

Marcus prided himself on being an honest, hardworking man. 

It was his virtue. The last vestige that he clung to after facing insurmountable feats of violence in his tenure as a soldier. He was strong in his decisions, steadfast in loyalty, and always adhered to promises and oaths given, especially towards friends. It took decades to build and maintain – and only a single night to be torn down. 

He was never a fan of parties, preferring to stay on the sidelines as much as he could. However, when the invitation came from a man he considered a good close friend, Marcus could not deny it. 

How was he to know that night would change everything?

For the first time in his life, he found himself wishing to throw away the vow he swore to his friend to watch over his daughter as a guardian. He could not do it anymore; acting as those your movements, your presence was not what he wished to follow. 

Marcus had found himself hopelessly wrapped up in you. 

When you walked, he walked. When you spoke, he listened. Everything you did under his roof was like being graced with warmth. Your smile was the balm he needed and your voice was the water he stumbled to in the hot desert of his life. 

Marcus was a fool, but he did not care. He ached on those days when Lucan would visit and be the recipient of your attention. Marcus wanted you to look at him, not Lucan. Those days were torture, but he stood behind and watched as a silent sentry; making sure you would always be safe. 

Now, he felt like he had broken a personal promise. He stood outside your door, nervous and unsure. He felt beyond a duty to protect you, rather it had become a simple fact of his life. However, he was unable to shield you from the horrors of the world. 

It had been a week since that night he kissed you. Marcus did not entirely know why he did it. Well, he knew why; he loved you. It was not planned. That day he had come home frustrated after training the new recruits only to be given the knowledge that Lucan was visiting, unplanned, and not monitored by him. 

The moment he spotted that necklace adoring your figure as a gift from Lucan, something inside of him snapped. It was the very real tangible showing that you were not his, would never be his, and were handed off to another man. Marcus was a calm man, but he had his limits. 

He had kicked himself all night afterwards. He kissed you and then rejected you. Nothing that embarrassing had ever happened in his life. The truth was, Marcus was terrified. This was an area he was not used to. War, strategy, and surviving the depravity of Rome, were his skills. Loving a woman? That was entirely new. Sure, he had his fair share of women in the past, but this time he was unprepared. 

Marcus raised a fist to your door but froze. He could no longer hear your sobs through the carved wood. The morning you had come down to eat after the kiss, he had been given the news that splintered his heart. Yet he knew that same news would destroy yours. 

He vowed that you would be safe under his care, but he had to watch your face crumble at the news of your father’s murder. Slain in battle by a German. You had denied it at first, voice breathless and shaky until it finally dawned on you. 

It was only a minute after that you descended into an inconsolable state. He remembered holding you as you sank to the floor. If he closed his eyes, Marcus could still feel your face tucked into the crook of his neck as your sobs reverberated through his body. You had cried for hours and by the end had fallen asleep. 

Marcus had carried you to your room and laid you down on your bed, vowing then and there he would do whatever it took to bring that smile back onto your face. The light within you, that graceful smile that made his home come alive, would be seen again. 

Now, over a week later, he was outside your room with a bowl of food in hand. Your condition changed quickly. No longer had you cried, but instead stared silently outside the windows of your room. He had tried getting you to talk, but you would only ever respond in short one-worded answers – dead of all emotion. At night, he would sit outside your door, unable to sleep and constantly worried, and hear soft weeps coming from behind the wood. 

He knocked to announce his presence and waited. After a few beats, Marcus opened the door and walked in. He saw the back of your head as you sat in a chair facing one of the windows. There you were, a light, wasting away. 

Marcus approached softly, setting the food down on a small table next to your chair. He walked in front of you, kneeling on the floor. His calloused hands reached out to touch yours and he saw you jolt suddenly at the unexpected warmth. Your eyes zeroed in on his and he could see the redness around them and the empty expanse within. There was no glint, nor hint of mischief that he had learned to love. 

“Sweetheart,” Marcus’ voice was soft as he rubbed soothing motions onto your knuckles, “You’re going to eat and then we will take a walk in the gardens.” 

It was not lost on him that you refused to leave the room since the news broke. Marcus was determined, out of all the things he would accomplish that day, that he would get you up and out of this room. 

You turned back to look out of the window, ignoring his presence and unwilling to go out. Marcus had become tired of your refusal. He had given you grace over the last week, but now understood he must be firm if you were ever able to get out of this stasis of mourning. If you sink too far, there may come a time when you will never be able to get out. 

His fingers delicately gripped your chin, turning your gaze back to him, “You don’t have to eat all of it, just a little. I only wish for a moment of your time in the garden. Ten at most and then you can come back.” Marcus bargained.

You thought for a moment before giving a silent nod. Marcus held back a smile, “Thank you, sweetheart, truly,” He moved away so you could eat, willing to give you space and privacy. 

He nervously fiddled with his hands, a habit he did not know he was prone to until recently, while he waited for you to be ready.

The transition was slow, but you could feel yourself gradually shifting into the light. The darkness that had swept over you, consumed your room and buried itself into your bones waned with each passing day. 

Marcus had been a relentless force in getting you to leave your room every day. What started as a short walk in the gardens, no longer than ten minutes, ended up being longer each day. You did not speak as much, but Marcus filled the silence with his own stories. Normally, you would be the one talking constantly, him being more reserved. Though it seemed the roles had reversed, but you found comfort in his stories and the timbre of his voice. 

Gradually, with the passage of time, you found yourself getting better. There were moments when you would leave your room without Marcus’ presence. Your laughter had not come back, but there was even a moment when you smiled. It lasted only a moment, yet you could remember the shine of light that reflected off of Marcus’s eyes when he saw it. 

Thanks to Marcus’ unwavering determination and insistence in your life, the light had begun to return. The summer warmth that you noted in his eyes upon meeting him was not an illusion, but rather reflected in the way he treated others around him. 

On this day, he had been busy at all hours and came back later. However, he was not going to miss a day of walking the gardens with you. Marcus filled you in on what he did and in return, you spoke of your day, admittedly less eventful than him, but still retained his rapt attention. The cool breeze of the night brushed over you and your hold on Marcus’ arm felt warm compared to the rest of your body. 

He saw it and steered you back towards his home and into the warm halls. The two of you made your way to your room. Suddenly, a feeling of melancholy came over you at the thought of ending the night. Then, you realize that you would prefer to spend the whole night to walk the gardens with him.  

Now outside your door, you turned to Marcus to find him already watching you. The help you had received from him was a kindness no other person had ever given you. His patience with you, despite not needing to help at all, warmed your heart greatly. 

“Marcus,” You spoke, “Thank you,” By the look on his face, you could tell he understood the real meaning of your words. It was not gratitude for the walk, but rather the vast expanse of aid he never failed to provide. 

He was a good provider and you felt safe in his presence. 

“Always,” Marcus nodded to you, leaned down, and left a chaste kiss on your hairline, “Goodnight, sweetheart,” He opened your door for you and you went in, too stunned to really respond. He closed it and you could hear his retreating footsteps down the hall. 

Each moment he stepped further, you realized how deep you were in. It was too late. You loved him, truly. 

And it terrified you. 

There was a part of your heart that felt that it was betraying your father. His friend. But would he not want you to be safe? He trusted Marcus with caring for you, would it be so horrible to allow yourself to have something good in this life?  

This had gone too far. You wanted him and there was realistically nothing in the way, but you were scared. To be so vulnerable with someone so as to share a life with them… was overwhelming. While you did not care for his age, it did worry you slightly. Would the gods take him from you soon? He, like your father, is a General. Fate can be cruel. Could your heart handle that?

You sat down on the edge of your bed and stared at the wall across from you. Already, you knew the rest of the night would be spent in a careful, tiresome, debate with your mind.

The morning meal was quiet. You sat at one head of the table and Marcus at the other. The only sound you could hear was cutlery against the silver plates. There was an underlying fear coursing through your body. 

You had to tell him. 

You could not stay here. 

“Marcus,” You got his attention and he watched you closely, “I would like to request some extra hands to help me with my belongings.” 

“Your belongings?” Marcus question. He placed his cutlery down and rested his elbows on the table. 

“It will take about a day to move back home, but the time would go quicker if I had more servants.” You picked up a cup and drank some water, the cool liquid erasing the scratching feeling in your throat. 

Marcus tensed up, “Why would you go back to your estate?” 

You let out a gentle laugh to cover up the sound of the ache in your heart. If you acted like you were alright, maybe you could eventually truly feel that way. 

“I must manage my father’s estate now, organize funeral processions, take account what was lost in the campaign… countless other tasks as well. Of course, I will need to find a husband to transfer the assets to before I lose them.” You had begun to ramble, the almost insurmountable work that needs to get done had begun to push down on you. All the while, you were oblivious to the darkening humour of Marcus. 

“A husband?” Marcus shifted in his seat. 

“Well, yes,” You responded as though it was an obvious answer, “A husband or tutor has to acquire my assets, as I cannot keep them to my name.” You hated it, but it was Roman law. As a woman, you could either have a husband or a tutor – a legal protector – to take charge of your belongings. 

It was then that you hesitated for a moment, unsure of if you should tell him but relented, “This morning I sent word for Lucan. My mourning period is over, it would be acceptable to move forward with him now.” 

Marcus let out a loud, sudden sigh. He rubbed his hands over his face and you tried not to think about how oddly attractive it was. He had made it clear when he kissed you that he did not wish for this. Why now does he seem so irritated at your actions? You could see his mouth move as he muttered to himself, but you could not hear what it was. 

“Must we have this conversation again…” He mumbled. Marcus leaned back in his chair before speaking up, “I’ll be your tutor.” 

“You what?” You nearly doubled over in your chair. 

“The assets will be in my name, legally, but completely under your control. I know you do not care for Lucan in the manner a wife should, and I’ll not watch you waste away like that. I… I will leave you to your own devices should you wish.” The final sentence was said so unsurely. 

It was an incredible offer; one you wanted to take so desperately. While he feigned control, the power would be in your hands and you could live a quite life of solitude. However, you needed time to think. Your silence must have signalled to Marcus a bought of uncertainty. 

“You can remain living in your home. We would only need to be seen at courtly events or meet over any proceedings. I mean it when I say you will control all of it. You will have full say and I will sign off on whatever you wish for the courts.” Marcus reassured. 

“Why?” You would say you were shocked by his kindness, but you had already become familiar with its hold on you. 

“I promised your father I would look after you.” He spoke. 

“Is that really why?” You questioned. Inside, you were screaming. All it would take is one simple answer. It did not even have to be direct. A simple hint that the kiss you two shared meant something, anything, would suffice. Marucs though, did not respond. His eyes held yours with feelings you could not recognize. 

“I…” The room had begun to feel stifling. You shoved your chair back and stood abruptly, “Thank you, General, for the offer.”

The doors to leave could not be any more welcoming to you as you left the dining chamber. It was only by the time you reached your room and sat down that you realized something. 

You had not given him a proper answer.

There was something so jarring in the way that the sun glared down through the small slivers of linen canopy that stretched across the patio of Marcus’ home. You were sitting uncomfortably in a chair by a table as Lucan sat across from you. 

He had responded to your summons almost immediately, arriving with flowers and jewelry. It was what led you to sit outside with him, pretending to listen in on his words. You felt Marcus' heated gaze as he stood away to watch, as was expected of him. He was further than he would normally be and you wondered if he even wanted to be here at all. 

“... normal to be so gone at the moment.” You finally tuned into the tail end of Lucan’s tangent, “I do not wish to rush if that is not wanted by you.” 

You nodded at his words, pretending to have listened to what he said. At this moment, feeling the warm stare coming from Marcus, you felt more uncomfortable than ever. Birds flew through the planted trees nearby while a cool breeze managed to make you feel some relief. 

“Rush?” You questioned. 

Lucan took a sip of wine, “I hope I did not read your summons wrong… You do wish to proceed with our marriage?” He seemed eager, but also nervous. The period of mourning you had was spent with no contact, though you did receive flowers every day from him. He must be worried there were no feelings there anymore; it made you feel worse knowing there were never feelings on your part to begin with. 

“Ah, yes, marriage,” Your voice rose higher and you shifted in your seat. Your eyes shifted behind Lucan to see Marcus at a distance and maintained eye contact. It was like he heard what you said and turned to look away. Only a second later did Marcus leave, ignoring the rules of propriety to leave you alone. Looking at his back, you felt a million emotions rain down on your body. 

“My lady?” Lucan asked. 

The focus you were lost in disappeared and you realized you had been silent. Looking back at Lucan, you knew you could not continue this ruse anymore. In your attempt at a decent life, you hurt Lucan and Marcus, as well as yourself, with this ruse. 

“Lucan–” 

“It’s him, isn’t it?” His face was crestfallen and he struggled to maintain eye contact. You gave him a look of question, but he continued, “I am not naive. I… I had hoped it was something fleeting, that you would come to me eventually.”

“I do not understand.” 

“But you do. Those looks you give Marcus. The way he watches you as well. I saw it, but chose to ignore it.” Lucan shuffled out of his chair, standing up and blocking some of the sun’s glare, “I will ask this now. I may not receive your love, but you can receive mine. I can give you a good life, and stability, should you wish. If you choose, I will be a dutiful husband. But answer me this one question. Could you live with yourself if you did?” 

You sat in your chair, frozen and unable to answer. Your mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out other than some strangled breaths. Lucan nodded in a way that was both painful and sure – an official declaration of surrender in the war between him and Marcus. 

“I hope he treats you well, my lady.” He nodded to you gracefully before retreating in a different direction than Marcus left – towards the front courtyard to the horses that waited. 

There was a haze that came over you, where all of the events of the last few months compounded. It was like you were looking through a tunnel, fixated on key moments. You did not realize just how often you would look at Marcus when spending time with Lucan. How many times did you tune out Lucan’s words? How often did you hover closer to Marcus? Why did you not see this sooner? 

It must have been a long time of reflection because when you were brought out of your reverie, the sun was setting. 

Marcus.

You had to speak to Marcus. 

You flung from your seat, nearly knocking it to the ground as you stormed back into the villa and down the winding hallways. Some servants were walking the hallway but backed off when they saw your look of determination. It was like you were going into battle, yet the only thing you had to lose was your heart – not your life. Though, you supposed it was all the same.

Making the way towards his room, you did not stop until you were right in front of the door. You pounded a few times on the wood, determined to get his attention. A few seconds later the door creaked, revealing Marcus. He was dressed in his nightclothes that was a thin red linen toga with some gold details on the ends of the short sleeves. He looked exhausted and the messy state of his hair showed that he must have gone to sleep early – or at least had been trying to sleep. 

“I assume you will want your things moved to his estate as soon as possible?” Marcus asked. He was doing the same thing he did the night he kissed you, looking anywhere but your eyes in a battle against himself. 

“There will be no moving.” Your voice was breathless, the quick movement here having tired you. 

“So after the wedding?” Marcus affirmed. 

“There will be no wedding.” You rushed out. Marcus stood there, gaze now looking at you as the fingers on his one hand holding the door open drummed against the wood. 

“Did he take it well?” He asked. You shook your head with confirmation and he hummed, “Good. I am sorry it did not work out.” Marcus understood the undertone of your woods and could recognize the look you were giving him; it was the same glint you had when he kissed you that fateful night. 

Marcus proceeded to close the door on you, causing you to back up a few paces in shock. 

“What the fuck?” You whispered. Anger tinged your mood and you moved forward. Instead of knocking politely on the door, you gripped the handle and yanked it open. Marcus was by a table with a pitcher of wine and he nearly dropped his cup at your intrusion. 

“What was that?” You questioned. At that point, your anger had built up at his attitude lately, “I did not take you as a man who runs.” The insult did not seem to bother him, as he only regarded you with warmth. 

“Neither did I.” His words nearly knocked you over. They were genuine, reflective, and went straight to your heart. Was he… scared? You sucked in a breath, knowing the hidden meaning behind his words: not until you. 

You then understood the truth; you had shaken his world just as much as he did yours. 

“Did you not hear me? I said no to Lucan.” Your voice strained. 

Marcus fiddled with the cup in his hand, “Why?” 

You scoffed gently, but not in an aggressive manner, “You know why.” His face hardened and he put the cup down. You took careful steps to get closer to him. When you were in front of him, you reached out to grab his hand but he backed away. 

“You don’t know what you’re doing darling.” Marcus’ voice was firm and something in the way that the tone hit you made heat pool in your stomach. 

“I know exactly what I am doing and exactly what this is.” Your old fear that he saw nothing in you but naivety was gone. You knew what he saw in you, and it was not some stupid little girl. The way he treated you, spoke about you, and interacted with you showed that this was not the case. You were tired of feeding into that fear. 

You were tired of fighting a losing battle. 

You reached out again, but this time Marcus did not back away. Your hand brushed against the fabric on his chest and felt the heat there. One of his hands reached up to grip yours, carefully keeping it against him and positioned over his heart. 

“Sweetheart, you do not want this.” His terms of endearment always lit a fire in your heart, but this time it spread across your body. 

“I do, Marcus.” His eyes closed and he inhaled deeply. The bump in his throat moved as he swallowed the saliva in his mouth as you spoke. “I do not know why you think otherwise.” 

“I am old. I’m rough around the edges, dark and…” He opened his eyes and you delighted in seeing the brown that you loved so much, “You are a light that I do not wish to extinguish.” 

His words, while romantic, hurt you. Marcus was a man who had experienced so much and seen the depravity of the world, yet still echoed kindness. There you were, sheltered by your father but still witty with the touch of innocence you had experienced. It was such a distinct change to what he was used to; a fundamental shift in the world he knew. 

“Is that why you avoided me? Why you left after you kissed me?” You asked. 

“Partly,” He answered, “If I was around you any longer I would not be able to resist. I am a patient man, but I also have my limits.” The fire inside your stomach was fueled with another log of cut wood, burning and smouldering. 

“You are not dark, Marcus. You have given me nothing but warmth. And old? Do you not remember our first conversation?” The last question was a bit of a tease in an attempt to brighten the conversation. However, you did manage to get closer, breaths intermingling. 

“Every second of it.” He answered. 

“Then what are you waiting for?” Your voice was only a whisper. If you moved any closer your chin would rest against his chest as you stared up at him. That seemed to be his snap, as Marcus wasted no time in leaning down to kiss you. His lips were surprisingly soft, but as warm as the arms he wrapped around your waist. Your hands rested on his chest, gripping the fabric as if to pull him closer.

This was all so new to you, but no less exciting. You relished in his strong and reassuring hold that was both protective and dominant. A dizzy feeling overcame you as you became lost in the sensation that was him. It was almost painful when he pulled away. The two of you were still close, breathes intermingling as you fought for air. 

Marcus’ eyes were scanning your face, searching for some answers within the depths. It was like he wanted to say something to you, but chose to surge forward and kiss you again instead. One of his hands rested on the small of your back, pulling you as close as possible while you other drifted to the curve of your ass. 

You let out a hum that spurred him on. He tilted his head to reach a closer angle and you could feel his nose brush your cheek. All of the pent up emotion between you two had sparked, lighting a wild fire that consumed everything around it. You happily let yourself sink into him, wishing to mold together as one in an attempt to never separate from him for as long as you lived. 

The thrumming in your chest became more intense as your hands turned sweaty. You were not skilled in this area, having only kissed an old friend on the cheek one time in your youth. A low grumble came from Marcus’ throat as he turned you around and began to back up. Only for a few seconds would he pull away until going right back to you. 

You could feel your lower back dig into one of his tables. This felt like a dream, but also exquisitely real; somewhere between the corporeal worldy lust of your body and the haze ascension of your soul. The feeling of his lips capturing yours was addicting and suddenly you cared not for strolls in the garden or trips to the markets. You only wished to stay here, in this room with him, for the rest of your life. 

He ran his tongue over your lips and you responded with more enthusiasm. Gentle, so as to not hurt you, Marcus bit down on your lower lip before he slowly pulled away. When you opened your eyes, you had trouble finding your vision in the daze you had been sent to. Marucs stared at you with an intensity you had never seen before 

You spoke with a breathless tone, “I love you.” 

Marcus froze, his chest seizing in its movements as his eyes moved across your face. He rested his forehead against yours, “I love you, carissima.” 

The two of you joined in another heated kiss, hands brushing over any inch they could reach. Marcus was feverish in his movements and you could feel the grumbles he made coarse through your body. His hands gripped your waist tightly to pick you up and place you on the table. The items on the table, mainly wax tablets and papyrus rolls, clattered to the floor. 

He continued to kiss you and pushed further until your back rested against the wood. His kisses shifted, moving to the corner of your mouth, across your jaw, and down your neck as you panted due to the heat buzzing around you. It was like all of your senses were heightened; his caresses on your sides, his heated open-mouth kisses across your skin, and the smell of sage, steel, and wood from his skin.

It was too much and not enough at the same time. 

His hands moved down to push up the fabric of your skirt. The feeling of his warm hands on the bare skin of your legs felt like the bolts of light in the sky from Jupiter. They travelled up further and suddenly a flush overcame your neck and chest. 

“M-Marcus?” Your voice was but a whisper. You propped yourself up on your elbows to watch as Marcus lifted his head from laying kisses on your covered stomach. 

“You want me to take care of you?” He questioned. You nodded as a response and he smiled, “Good. Spread your legs for me, sweetheart.”

The husky tone of his voice and the commanding nature of it had you obeying. You were not stupid to the ways of pleasure, having explored it on your own on numerous occasions. However, this was new for you. Marcus hiked up the fabric to be scrunched at your waist and you felt the cool air brush over your skin. You squirmed slightly, due to both the cold and how nervous you felt. 

Marcus continued to leave a trail of kisses down your stomach, stopping by the bunched up fabric. You could feel his lips smile before he whispered through the fabric, “My pretty girl.” 

Your breath caught in your throat when you felt his hands brush against your inner thighs, dangerously close to the area you so desperately wished him to touch. One hand moved over you, two fingers gently spreading your folds. Your back arched slightly. 

Marcus hummed in an approving tone while his fingers worked back and forth minstrations. Your legs twitched, but you could not prepare yourself for the feeling when he dived down, lips attacking like he had been doing to your neck moments ago. You gasped abruptly and the muscles in your legs tightened for a moment before relaxing. When your hips moved up, he used his free hand to hold down your stomach, pressing you into the wooden table. 

Short and quick gasps left your mouth the more he worked. The humm of his moans shook through you. You reached out to his hair, tugging the aging curls which only made him work more. 

Marcus got lost in his movements as he lapped at your juices. Was this not wrong for a man? You remembered overhearing some soldiers speak of this act before; and not in good favor. 

“Wait!” You could barely call out. He lifted his head instantly, looking at you with concern. “Is this not… wrong? I’ve heard soldiers speak of this and it was not good…” You trailed off. 

“They are not men like me. Do you want me to continue?” You nodded to his request, but he shook his head, “Words, sweetheart.” 

With a shaky voice, you respopnded with a plea, “Please.” 

“Good girl.” Marcus’ fingers went back to teasing moans from you as his mouth dove back down to feast. After a moment, you felt his fingers at your entrance and one push in slowly. While you had done it before, this was nothing compared to then. His fingers were longer and thicker. One already felt like two of yours. Your hands left his hair and you fell back against the table. While it did hurt, a part of you welcomed it mixed in with the pleasure you were feeling. 

Marcus had changed completely, having lost himself in you. From the sounds coming from his chest, it was as if this action was bringing him as much pleasure as it was for you. He was happy to stay were he was. When your voice rose in pitch, it spurred him even more. He pushed another finger in you, pulling in and out in an almost mesmerizing, dangerously slow, enchanting movement. 

You body trembeled as the pressure in your lower abdomen began to intensify. Your thighs jerked and at this point you were practically grinding against his face. The feeling of his skin caressing your walls became overwhelming as he reached a spot in you that had your back arch. It was dizzying. Your eyes struggled to stay open as the room around you became fuzzy. 

“Marcus! I… I-” A thin sheen of sweat had built over your skin to combat the heat you were feeling. He knew you were on the verge of being undone and only increased his pace slightly. It was tantilizing the way he went about it and you wanted to beg for more but found yourself unable to speak. Each movement of his hands and tongue was carefully calculated as he quickly picked up on all the little motions that made you squirm.

When Marcus would take seconds to breathe, he mumbled against you, “M’girl. Perfect.”

The buildup became stronger and inescapable. You had yet to ever feel like this, so intensely that you could feel every slight movement and touch. A loud moan ripped through your throat as you felt the damn that hid all of your feelings back. Waves crashed over you as you spasmed, but Marcus did not seem to care as he kept up with his movements and let you ride it out. 

This all felt like too much, but not enough. Marcus eventually pulled away with a coy grin on his face. You could barely lift your head up. He could see your difficulty to move because of how overwhelmed you were. Marcus moved back so that he hovered over you and pushed some of your hair behind your ear. 

“Was that good, sweetheart?” Marcus stroked your cheek. You nodded back feverishly and he smiled at your enthusiasm. “I hope you’re not tired.” 

“Why?” You asked. 

“Now that I’ve had you, I don’t think I can stop.” Marcus wasted no time in standing up and swooping you into his arms. His hands went under your knees and back, hoisting you up as though you weighed nothing. He carried you across his room, up two steps, and placed you on his bed. 

Marcus used his hands to push off your clothing. You held your arms up and let him take it off of you. The fabric pooled onto the cold stone floor, forgotten. Now you were bare in front of him and suddenly you felt embarrassed. When you moved to cover your chest, Marcus’ hands immediately stopped yours. One of them cupped your breast while his thumb swiped over your nipple, causing you to shudder. 

“Beautiful.” He mumbled. He leaned down to give you a kiss. Unlike the others, this one was calm; gentle even. It made you feel reassured and safe and you found yourself chasing his lips when he pulled away. 

Marcus worked quickly, diligently removing the clothing he wore. You were left sitting on the edge of his bed and watched. Finally, he was left wearing nothing. Your eyes trailed over the expanse of his tanned skin. Scars littered his chest and arms, ranging from tiny cuts to a few large gashes. All wounds he had sustained in his tenure as a soldier only reminded you of the work he had endured. He rose from a lowly position to a general – no family name or connections to build off of. 

There was something about it that was wildly attractive. The determination, the lethality – it returned those feelings of arousal you had before your peak. Slowly, your eyes trailed down to his cock. It was long, but girthier than many of the carved statues you had seen. Already some precum coated the head. 

You reached out and used your hand to brushed over his length, trailing up to the base and back down again. Marcus shuddered under your touch and his stance faltered. He grabbed your wrist and you looked up into his eyes. They were lidded and dark, shining with so much lust it would have knocked you onto the floor if you were not already sitting down.  

“Move back, sweetheart.” Marcus ordered. You wasted no time in following those orders. You shuffled back onto the bed, moving back until your head reached the feather pillows. He followed suit, crawling over and up your body until he caged your head in between his forearms and his knees were placed on the outside of your thighs. 

There was no time wasted as he leaned down to capture your lips in a fevered kiss. It was engulfing and managed to make you feel lightheaded. His bed was surprisingly comfortable. You had thought it would be as stiff as his persona he showed to the world, but it was not. Your hands trailed down his chest, feeling the lean muscles under his skin. 

Marcus left open-mouthed kisses wherever he could. It did not seem like he cared where he kissed; your lips, cheeks, temple, jaw, neck, and chest were displayed in front of him like a platter of food and he intended to sample his fill of each one. 

He propped himself up on one hand while the other trailed down to your core and circled your bud. You were still sensitive and you moaned into his mouth as your lips battled against one another. His hand drifted to his cock and gripped the base, pumping it a few times. While the length did intimidate you, the girth made you uneasy. If you could barely stand two of his fingers, how would you take all of him?

Marcus guided his cock to drag between your folds. It felt infinitely better than his fingers. It was more intimate, consuming, than the former though not any less pleasurable. The head gathered your slick, teasing as his hips pushed it back and forth. Your breathing got more laboured. As he dragged up again, he smoothly pushed into you. 

Your hands instandty gripped his biceps as you sucked in a large breath and your back arched up. Only the tip was in, yet you had never felt more full. A whine escaped your lips and Marcus stopped. 

“Look at me, baby,” Marcus spoke and you did, “You’re doing so well, you know that? Such a good girl.” You raised your head to kiss him again and he slowly sunk in more. Marcus was patient with you, allowing you to adjust for a moment each time he pushed further. 

When he bottomed out, a low groan rumbled from his chest. He waited while you adapted to the size. It felt like he was reaching parts of you never touched before and you welcomed the feelings and clenched your walls against him. 

It was not long before your hips squirmed, chasing any movement to feel pleasure. It still hurt, but the ache somehow felt good. You craved friction or anything that would send you into the frenzy of ecstasy you had previously experienced. 

“Fuck,” Marcus hissed as he began to pull out slowly. He stopped as the tip was almost out before pushing back in. You gasped as he began to thrust back and forth, setting a steady rhythm. Your hands trailed over his large biceps and moved to the muscles of his chest and over his ribbed abdomen as he maintained a sickeningly euphoric pace. The kisses he left behind were possessive and consuming. 

When your hands wrapped around and fingers dug into his back, a low groan emitted from the back of his throat and his hips snapped against you with a heightened fervor. You had become nothing but a mess of moans while his constant assault on your neck and chest felt like burns. Somehow, someway, you did not feel like it was enough of him. Marcus was a gentle man towards you, but his actions now started to slip into something more primal. The stretch of his cock was a good ache that spread outwords from your core and lit up your body. 

You matched his pace, pushing your hips up to meet when he would thrust in. This must have been a good choice, because the kisses Marcus placed on your collarbone faltered and his pace quickened. All you could hear in the room was skin against skin and the wanton sounds that left both of your mouths. 

Marcus lifted his head to kiss you on the lips, searing but somehow so slow and gentle compared to the frantic nature of his pace. When he pulled away, you saw a range of emotions through those summer warm eyes you had grown to adore – lust, happiness, and love. 

Your hand reached out to cup his face and suddenly you could not hold back your words anymore. 

“I love you, Marcus.” Your voice was coated in breathlessness, but he could still hear it. 

He stilled for a brief moment, as if he thought he imagined your words. He looked into your eyes and found the reassurance he needed. 

A smile broke on his face, “I love you too, sweetheart.” 

Marcus then lost himself. He resumed his steady pace, thrusting in and out with a fervor like before. You were a moaning mess, but still you coult hear his murmurs against your skin. 

“Love…” His lips trailed over a sensitive spot on your neck, “My girl…” He shifted to your collarbone, “Love you,” Marcus trailed his lips down the middle of your chest and between your breasts, “I love you.” 

Your back arched as you began to feel that same fire build up in your stomach. It was a deep pressure, threatening to break. Air was stuck in your lungs, barely making it in and out in the heat that surrounded you. At this point, Marcus was babbling words of love against your skin like a prayer, over and over. 

Marcus chased every once of pleasure he could have, but still paid attention to you. He leaned on one arm with his strength and used the other to trail down to your core. His thumb circled your bud and the added pleasure of it made you shout. His calloused finger added another texture to what you were feeling, overwhelming your senses more. 

“Thats it, sweetheart.” Marcus grunted, “Let go, good girl. I’m here.” 

You had tried to bite your lip and hold it in, but that was a futile endeavor, “Marcus I-” 

“I know, my love.” Marcus reassured you. 

As if on command, you felt yourself falling over a precipice. Your head dug back into the plush pillow below you. Marcus let you ride out your high, not changing his pace at all. His movement fumbled and before long he pulled out. You were not prepared for how empty it would feel. Only minutes ago did it feel too much, but now that it was gone you felt lost. 

Marcus grunted lowly and you could feel some strings of heat hit your lower stomach as he came. It was a shattering moment of bliss and you struggled to catch your breath. Marcus leaned back over you, his eyes screwed shut as his eyebrows furrowed. You let out a strangled laugh and he responded by lifting his head and muting your sounds with a kiss. 

Both of you were sweaty and hot, but did not seem to mind. Marcus lifted himself to reach for a washcloth placed next to a basin on one of his bedside tables and used it to clean your stomach with slow and careful movements. He was attentive and sweet as he cleaned you up and threw the cloth somewhere behind him afterwards. 

He moved to lay on his side beside you. You angled your head to see him and the back of his fingers trailed across your cheek. Despite the fact that you had exposed the most intimate parts of yourself, that little action caused you to blush and become shy. He shifted to wrap you in his arms, turning to lay on his back as your head fell to his chest. 

The calm silence of the room was a comfort as you gradually cooled off. Marcus kissed your temple, squeezing you closer to him. 

“Marcus,” You began, “What do we do now?” You were admittedly worried about everything now that a sense of clarity washed over you. 

“Between us? That is up to you. With everything else… the whole estate organizing? I will be there every step of the way.” Marcus answered. Your heart swelled and you shifted to raise your head and look at him. 

“I… I want to be with you.” You told him. Marcus had a faint smile on his face at your words and the two of you exchanged a long kiss. His head fell back against the pillow as his eyes shut. His legs stretched out and he let out a long sigh. 

“Tired already, old man?” You teased. 

One of his eyes opened to look at you, “Old man? Insults are not very ladylike.” 

“Oh?” You giggled, “I’m sorry, General.” When you addressed him by his rank, his other eye shot open and you could see his pupils expand. Marcus moved swiftly in gripping your hips and hoisting you up to straddle his waist as he sat up. The two of you were still bare, and you could feel your clit drag over his hardening length. 

It caused you to gasp lightly and he only smirked, “Tired, you said?” You had no room to laugh before his mouth was on yours, enveloping you into another round of many that night.

I <3 older men.

I'm going to be taking a short break on Gladiator works (the ones in my requests will not be forgotten) to focus on my Aegon fic. But I WILL return to Gladiator fics.

taglist: @possiblyafangirl @orcasoul @peepawispunk

[tarta-de-limon]

HEY YOU GOT MY FAVORITE GAYS EVER AS YOUR BANNER- me fr

anyways do you have any ocs perchance I would like to draw em

LMAAAO, THEY'RE ADORABLE, I HAD TO HAVE THEM IN MY BANNER

And omg, I do but... they're kinda cringey.

...

Anyway here they are!!!!

It's a quick drawing of all of them, they don't belong to the same storyline tho, I created them to entertain myself, and it's a sketch like this because I actually draw them traditionally, not digitally. I draw them in my classes.

They're more like... introduced characters into DC universe??? As you can see second Luan on the right is WonderGirl, so...yeah, cringey.

But I want to share their stories because I love them!!!

If you don't care, you can skip, I already gave their designs right here, so knowing their stories is kind of unnecessary??? I put some photos ahead, so you can skip the text and go to the photos if you want to draw any of them and need references!

So, Natalya is actually just a normal teenager, daughter of Bruce Wayne, didn't really cared about her mother so... she's dead, I guess. Maybe a one night stand. I created her because I thought it would be cute for Damian to have a gentle, kind big sister figure? In that moment I wasn't into DC in general, so I didn't know about Cass and Steph, I only watched the movies.

But then I read the comics, and well, here's her lore:

So, she's very fragile, she gets tired easily, she gets sick easily, but as a kid, she really, really wanted to be a to do sports and all that to prove Bruce and others she wasn't weak. She knew Jason and was super close to him. Then Jason died haha. She felt alone, Bruce was grieving, Dick was grieving, she gets angry, she hates everyone, then Tim takes the mantle of Robin, Natalya hates him.

Like, really, really hates him.

Uhh... Idk if this is canon or not, because as I've said before, I'm not a Tim fan...

So, in this au Tim's parents die, Natalya feels bad, kinda tries to fix things, doesn't really work.

So she's been always trying to be loud and annoying to call others attention, but after this, she kinda quiets down??? And realizes that, well, sometimes listening is nice too, yk? I remember I had this scene where she's complaining to Alfred, like; why won't he forgive me!? I already said sorry! (She's a kid)

And Alfred tells her to, well, to kinda listen to others? Because all she's listening is herself; I already apologized, I already said I'm sorry, I'm right, you're wrong.

And well, ever since then Natalya kinda calms down and learns that, well, sometimes life is life, and that she never really had a passion for sports, she didn't even liked them she just wanted to be noticed.

She realizes that what she does like is playing chess with Alfred, and well, she joins the chess club of her school, once she's calmer and nicer Tim forgives her, they become close. Everything's going just fine...

And then Damian arrives.

But Natalya is super happy, she had a little brother! And she was going to be the best sister and give him all the attention and affection she didn't have when she was a kid.

At first Damian doesn't like it. Then he kinda does. Is nice to have someone caring for you, and Natalya is just...nice. she's the type of girl that likes to take care of others, and that really likes to do little gestures like baking sweets for you when you're feeling sick.

... then she dies. Yeah. Idk why I decided she would die. She just does.

Damian revives her with the Lazarus pit, because he feels it was his fault (something, something happened, Natalya covered him with her body, she dies). I really wanna go into detail but it'll be too long.

And when she revives she's kinda traumatized! But she's adapting. Besides, her body isn't as weak as it used to. I have this scene where she's running and she realizes; Wait, I'm running. I'm not tired. I'm not having trouble breathing. I'm running!!!!

So Natalya's kinda happy, I guess.

(she ends up with a bunch of scars and her left eye is grey now. She can't see with that one. She was shot. Multiple times. I like to think her scar have like this 💥 form.

Uh... second one is Luan(19)! I actually created her, again, while I was watching the movies; wouldn't it be funny if Damian had a twin sister? So that's where the design came from. Damian in the movies doesn't look like o picture him now tho 😭😭✋✋✋ anyway, her lore? Well, as Damian twin sister: she was trained, killed, revived, killed, revived, then she was poisoned with Joker Venom, but it kind of made her crazy, she tries to blow up the whole city, she realizes last moment what she's doing, she develops like...personality problems??? (Her real self and the venom self, kind of), she runs away.

She spends time trying to find who she is, then she returns to Gotham to end a criminal organization she created while she was a villain. She refuses to talk with the batfam because she feels to guilty, because well, she kinda tried to kill them all.

That's as Damian's twin tho. As a new Oc? Idk... she's a villain... that's it. I didn't really thought about her new lore. I just really like her design. I created a boyfriend for her, when I was redesigning her to be older and just a different person. She met him when she was fighting batman and Robin, and he kinda "saved" her ("saved' because she knew he was spying on her and pretended to be loosing to see what he would do). His name is Kairos. It means: a propitious moment for decision or action. I think it's pretty accurate.

Kate is my favorite. She's such a tiny little devil I love her so much.

Her real name is Lydia, actually, she lived with her mother, a drug addict, in crime alley. When she was three or so, one day she kinda got mad at her mom, a temper tantrum, and well, she had the bad habit of hiding while she was angry.

Well she hid under the bed and just then some bad guys appeared because, surprise, her drug addict mother owed them money.

They killed her...uhhh, warning, I guess:

⚠️ They kinda... strangled her. And I have this scene where the just put her against the floor, the woman is dying, and Kate is there, under the bed, and she can't do shit because, she's a damn toddler and is scared? ⚠️

She stayed there, hidden under the bed for a whole day, just in shock, before she ran away from her apartment and just... Idk, she just wanted to leave. She was panicking, alright?

The point is, Selina finds her.

Kate is in a state of shock and doesn't really react, so Selina takes her in and gives her a new name. Kate! Like kitten, get it?

So...

She's kind of a prodigy??? She's a smart ass, she knows how to build all type of machines and is pretty smart.

So she fixes Selina's little gadgets if needed, and Selina will buy her materials so she can build her machines.

There's more lore to her but, well, let's just say this is too long already.

She kinda gets traumatized. She's fighting for her life, she cuts her hair. She heals. She becomes a better person.

I REALLY WANT TO GIVE DETAILS BUT UHG, I FEEL LIKE IT'LL BE TOO MUCH.

Anyway here's the other Luan's lore:

She's WonderGirl, she was supposed to train with Diana but Diana decides she's not ready. She's too... brutal. She fights like boxing? You see those bracelets? They extent to her hands so they turn into big gauntlets she uses to fight. So yeah, violent. The thing is like she actually has fun while fighting. She'll be jumping and giggling, and well, that's not very...sane thing to do?

She grew up in Themyscira, by a secluded group of Amazons that just taught her how to fight, and how to be 'a good warrior'.

When Damian forms his Teen Titans team he kinda kidnapped her too (because let's be honest, he kidnapped everyone, lmao). Damian feels kinda related to her??? Because Luan is always sayin: a good warrior does this, a good warrior does that. And she's willing to die for 'her honor.' it kinda reminds him to how he used to be in the League.

I honestly created her because Jon and Damian were missing a wonder to be like, Batman, superman and Wonder woman. And then I kinda liked to think Damian and Luan would have something. Honestly? This is all Djinni's fault. God, did I hate her.

But uh, then I had this idea where she kinda gets lost in time and she kinda looses her memories and...

Yeah, I won't give details. You already know why. Too long.

Oh yeah, and she used to kill. Damian taught her not to!

Anyway, that's all, I'm so sorry for my rambling, I just had to share them because I love them so much. 😭😭😭

[lesbianneopolitan]

You said you could go on abt how horrible Jimmy and Carmel were so Im kinda curious

How bad were they?

They very much introduce Jimmy Vanille in the book by picking Trivia by her ankles to get her out of under the couch, he holds her upside down, and start shaking her up and down before throwing her back onto the couch, when Trivia's 8

She did accidentally break a vase in this first chapter when she was playing around, but they p much leave the child with a wound in her hand, bleeding, and no one seems to care about it for some reason

Carmel can't even look at Trivia in the eye because she's ashamed of her heterochromia, and both parents force her to wear a brown contact lense over her pink eye so she looks 'normal' when they go out with her

Jimmy is p persistent in having Trivia speak when she just, can't

Of course, the whole isolation thing is very cruel on its own- they didn't want to send her to a normal school because of her 'special needs', when in reality is that they were ashamed of their daughter, so Trivia spends many years of her life (up to 18) on her own, locked at home (except for the brief moments in which she sneaks outside), then, they send her to an all-girls Academy (that happens to be an undercover place for the crime group of Spider to form young girls into becoming assassins and spies- Carmel DID know that, because she also studied there)

Trivia did burn her room in accident when trying to destroy the lock that her father put in her door, because, that's also something Jimmy did, he literally locked her up in her room so she wouldn't have the right to go out of there or around the house due to previous escapade moments (but maybe don't lock and isolate your daughter so hard and she wouldn't have had the necessity to do that)

Jimmy hid boxes of stolen Dust under Trivia's room floor because he was trying to steal from his boss (Hei Xiong (father)), with how volatile Dust is, her daughter could've exploded at any incident, and then what?

While Carmel seemed to try and care for Trivia a bit more, Jimmy never listened, and she never stepped up to make things change, anyway, plus, in reality Carmel wanted Trivia to become an assassin so she could rule the criminal underworld of Vale with her, she intended to keep manipulating Jimmy to eventually push away the Xiong family and Lil' Miss Malachite and the Spiders to have the control in the shadows (alongside her daughter), so she p much wanted her to become a criminal too

They don't know their daughter and her likes, at all, it's Hei Xiong (her honorary uncle) who sent her the most interesting gifts for her bdays and such (because her parents didn't care otherwise), specially books, the fairy tales she loved so much reading

When she's back home after meeting Roman (they're hiding from Spider and Xiong because, mafia wars going on), Neo makes the mistake of trusting that her parents wouldn't try anything weird (spoiler, she was wrong), they actually drug Neo's tea so she's left paralyzed, and her father takes her to her room by dragging her all over the floor of the mansion and up the stairs

only to lock her again in her room and leave her on the bed while she physically couldn't do anything to defend herself, because, paralyzing drugs

They controlled her life to ridiculous levels- some people of Vale (more specifically, it's the cops mentioning it), mention how they didn't even know the Vanilles had a daughter despite being well known because, rich and important people- they really just treated Trivia like some kind of dirty secret

Jimmy also openly admits that he's so deep into his debt with Xiong, that the lives of her wife and daughter are owned by Hei Xiong

Also, whenever Trivia got into trouble when she was younger (her escapades), Jimmy always paid the cops and the shops good sums of money so they would look away

They prohibited Trivia to use her Semblance because they were scared of what she could do- at one point Jimmy even calls her daughter a 'witch' in a derogatory manner

While Neo did seem to have bad ideas and was mischievous since she was young, I think if they hadn't repressed and isolated her so much, she would be a bit better as a person than she is now, period

[beesorcery]

google how do i tell my dad that the reason i keep bringing up elon musk's transphobia isn't that i've got gen z political tunnel vision that makes me blind to his "innovation" in electric cars but because i am desperately crying out for you as the father of a trans child to feel just as outraged and angry as i am that that man has so much power

[mssalo]

worship

Ignored and humiliated by your husband, you find yourself in Joel's arms-his best friend who's been silently craving you for far too long. One heated night pushes you both over the edge, and Joel isn't holding back. He's ready to give you what your husband never could: everything.

Warnings: 18+, MDNI, cheating, body worship, your husband treating you bad, Joel treating you good, oral (f receiving), kissing, (P in V), pinning, cumming Inside, breeding kink, Joel gets nasty with it, 10k

Part: 2

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

The late afternoon sunlight filtered gently through the lace curtains, casting soft patterns across the dining table where you sat with Sarah, helping her with her homework. Your smile, though kind, felt heavy today. You leaned over the table, explaining a math problem to her with patience, even though your mind was clouded with thoughts of your husband.

It had been weeks—maybe months—since he’d been fully present. You had long suspected something was off, but now it was undeniable. He came home late, if at all, and when he did, his eyes never seemed to meet yours. You’d catch glimpses of texts on his phone, messages you weren’t supposed to see. You weren’t stupid. You knew.

But you’d spent so long being the perfect wife, the one who never caused trouble. He’d always introduced you as his “trophy,” an arm to show off at events, beautiful and polished. It was the role you’d filled for years, playing the part he wanted you to play. Smile, be perfect, don’t question. And you had been doing just that for far too long, even though inside you were crumbling.

You brushed a strand of hair from your face and forced a warm smile as Sarah struggled with her fractions.

You adored Joel’s daughter. She was smart, sweet, and had a lightness about her that made your heart ache with a longing for the family you never had. Sarah was only fourteen, but she had a way of reading people that made you think she saw right through you.

“You’re doing great, sweetie,” you encouraged her softly. “Just think of the numerator as the number on top and the denominator as the number on the bottom.”

Sarah gave you a soft smile, but it was clear she wasn’t fully focused. Her big, brown eyes studied you carefully, picking up on the sadness that lingered just beneath the surface of your cheerful demeanor.

“Are you okay?” she asked, her voice hesitant but filled with concern. “You seem… off today.”

Your heart sank a little at the realization that she noticed. You were supposed to be the adult here, the one keeping it all together, but it was getting harder to hide the cracks. You blinked back the tears threatening to well up, reaching over to give Sarah’s hand a gentle squeeze.

“I’m okay, baby,” you whispered softly, trying to steady your voice. “Just a little tired, that’s all.”

Sarah looked at you for a moment longer, her brow furrowed as if she didn’t quite believe you, but she didn’t push it. She was too kind for that, too sweet. You wished your own husband had even a fraction of the empathy this girl had. Instead, he barely acknowledged your presence anymore, leaving you to feel like a ghost in your own home.

After Sarah finished her homework, you walked her to the door, sending her off with her usual hug. She hugged you back tightly, sensing more than you were letting on, but when you said goodbye, you assured her again that you were fine. She gave you one last concerned look before heading home.

After Sarah left, the silence in the house became overwhelming, filling every corner with the weight of your thoughts.

You leaned against the door for a moment, closing your eyes, fighting the urge to let the tears spill over. It was getting harder to keep up the facade. The loneliness, the sense of being unseen in your own marriage—it was suffocating.

You’d done everything you could to save the relationship, to bring back the warmth that had once existed between you and your husband, but there was nothing left.

With a deep breath, you pushed away from the door and headed to the kitchen, trying to busy yourself with anything that could distract you from the ache in your chest. But the sound of a knock at the door startled you, pulling you out of your thoughts. You weren’t expecting anyone.

When you opened it, Joel stood on your porch, concern etched into his rugged features. His broad shoulders seemed even larger framed by the doorway, his familiar Texas drawl cutting through the silence as he spoke.

“Hey,” he said, his voice gentle but serious. “Sarah told me you weren’t doing too good today. Figured I’d come by and check on you.”

You blinked, surprised but not unwelcome to see him standing there. It took a moment for you to gather your thoughts, your heart catching in your throat at the sight of him. Joel had always been kind to you, always present in a way your husband wasn’t. He was a steady, comforting presence in your life, one you had grown to rely on more than you ever intended.

“I—I’m fine,” you stammered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to worry her. It’s just been a long day.”

Joel’s brow furrowed, and he didn’t hesitate to step inside, closing the door behind him. He looked down at you with those dark, thoughtful eyes of his, reading you in ways you wished your husband still could. His gaze softened, but he didn’t buy your answer for a second.

“You don’t gotta put up a front with me,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I can tell somethin’s been bothering you.”

It was those words—the way he said them with such understanding, such care—that made something in you break. You couldn’t hold it together any longer, not with Joel standing there, offering the kind of concern and kindness you hadn’t felt in so long. The tears you had been holding back began to well up again, this time falling before you could stop them.

Joel stepped forward, his hands settling gently on your arms.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he murmured softly. “It’s okay. I’m here.”

His words, so simple yet so full of warmth, only made the tears come faster. You wiped at your cheeks, embarrassed that you were falling apart like this in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “I didn’t mean to… it’s just… everything feels so wrong.”

Joel’s grip tightened slightly, a gesture of reassurance. He guided you over to the couch, sitting beside you as you tried to compose yourself. You leaned into him instinctively, finding comfort in the solid presence of his body next to yours. Joel had always had this way of making you feel safe, like you could let your guard down without fear of judgment.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” he asked quietly, his hand still resting on your arm, warm and steady.

You hesitated, the words heavy in your throat. You’d kept it all inside for so long, afraid to say it out loud, afraid that acknowledging it would make it all too real. But sitting there, with Joel looking at you like he genuinely cared, it all came tumbling out.

“He doesn’t care anymore, Joel,” you murmured, the words spilling from your lips, weighed down by the months of heartache you had been carrying. “It’s like I’m invisible to him. He doesn’t talk to me, doesn’t even look at me… and I know he’s seeing someone else.”

The effect on Joel was immediate. His jaw clenched tightly, the muscles in his face twitching as he tried to contain the anger that flared up inside him.

His eyes darkened, filling with a storm of emotions—disbelief, frustration, and something protective, primal. His hand, which had been resting gently on your arm, tightened its grip slightly, grounding you as he processed your words.

He stared at you for a long moment, his face a mix of shock and disbelief, as if he couldn’t comprehend how anyone could treat you that way.

“What the hell is wrong with him?” Joel muttered, more to himself than to you, his voice low and rough. “How could he—how could anyone—do that to you? To you of all people?”

He shook his head, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your breath catch. His voice softened, but the rough edges of his anger were still there, simmering just beneath the surface.

“You deserve so much more than that. You deserve someone who sees you, who knows just how lucky they are to have you.”

Joel leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping to a low, urgent murmur as he continued.

“You’re kind, thoughtful… hell, you’re always puttin’ everyone else first. The way you care for Sarah like she’s your own, the way you keep your home so warm and welcoming, the way you’ve always been there for him… you’re so damn good, and he doesn’t even see it.” He shook his head again, the disbelief etched deep in his furrowed brow.

“How could he not see that? How could he throw that away?”

His eyes softened as he looked at you, filled with a mixture of admiration and frustration.

“It breaks my heart to see you treated like this. You deserve someone who cherishes you, who shows up for you, every day… who loves you for exactly who you are.”

His words hit you like a wave, each one wrapped in the raw sincerity and care that had always been so natural for Joel. You could see the anger and confusion in his eyes—he truly couldn’t understand how anyone could treat you as anything less than extraordinary.

You had been trying so hard to convince yourself that it was enough to be the perfect wife, to keep playing the role you had been assigned, but Joel’s kindness made you question all of it. His care, his attention—it was what you had been craving for so long, and now, here he was, offering it to you without asking for anything in return.

“But I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling as the weight of everything settled heavily on your shoulders. “I’ve tried so hard to make it work, to be what he wants, but nothing’s enough.”

Joel’s hand lifted to your face, gently cupping your cheek. The warmth of his palm grounded you, the rough texture of his skin a stark contrast to the tenderness in his touch. He guided your face to meet his eyes, filled with an intensity that made your breath catch.

“You don’t need to be what he wants,” Joel said, his voice low, almost a growl, roughened by emotion.

“You deserve to be seen, to be loved for who you are. Not just for what you can give someone else.”

His words hung in the air between you, wrapping around your heart, pulling at the deepest parts of you that had felt so neglected, so starved for this very thing—connection.

The space between you felt charged, heavy with unspoken emotions that had been simmering for far too long. It was as though every unexpressed feeling, every suppressed desire had built up into a moment that neither of you could stop.

Your heart pounded in your chest, each beat echoing the ache of loneliness and longing that had been gnawing at you for months. Joel had always been there, quietly, steadily, offering you the care your husband never could.

And now, sitting so close to him, his hand on your cheek, the warmth of his body radiating toward you, the pull between you was undeniable.

“Joel…” you breathed, your voice barely a whisper, your gaze flickering between his deep brown eyes and his lips, so close, so tempting.

He didn’t move away. Instead, his thumb brushed across your cheek, wiping away a tear you hadn’t realized had fallen. His touch was tender, but his eyes were dark, filled with something deeper—something that had been quietly building between you for longer than either of you cared to admit.

“I’ll take care of you,” Joel whispered, his voice rough with the promise of protection, of something more. “You don’t have to go through this alone anymore.”

Your heart raced, torn between the vulnerability of the moment and the undeniable comfort of his words.

The way he spoke, the way he looked at you—it was everything you had been craving for so long. The tenderness you had missed, the feeling of being truly seen, appreciated, cared for. It was overwhelming. And yet…

Before you could fully process what was happening, Joel leaned in. His lips brushed against yours in a soft, hesitant kiss. The world around you seemed to disappear, the only thing grounding you being the warmth of his lips and the steady strength of his hand still cradling your face.

The kiss was gentle at first, full of the tenderness and care you had longed for, but there was something else beneath it, something more intense, more primal, as if he had been holding back for too long and couldn’t anymore.

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as if needing something to hold on to, something solid in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you.

His kiss deepened slightly, his other hand moving to the small of your back, pulling you closer. It felt like everything you had wanted—someone who saw you, who cared for you, who wanted you.

But just as quickly as the warmth of the kiss had filled you, the weight of guilt crashed down like a tidal wave. You broke away, pulling back suddenly, your heart pounding in your chest, breath coming in short gasps. You shook your head, stepping out of his reach, the taste of his kiss still lingering on your lips, but your mind already spinning.

“I—” you stammered, the words barely forming as you backed away, your hands trembling. “I can’t… I’m sorry, Joel, I just… I can’t do this.”

The look on Joel’s face was one of hurt and confusion, but also understanding. He stood there, his arms falling to his sides as he watched you retreat.

“It’s okay,” he said softly, his voice gentle, though the rough edge of his emotion was still there. “You don’t need to apologize.”

You took another step back, trying to steady yourself, your heart in your throat. “It’s not right,” you murmured, your voice trembling as you tried to rationalize everything that had just happened. “I can’t… I’m still married, and this… this is wrong.”

Joel didn’t argue. He didn’t push. He just watched you, his eyes filled with a mixture of understanding and a quiet sorrow.

“I just don’t want to see you hurt anymore,” he said softly, his voice rough with emotion. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words hit you hard, but you couldn’t stay. You couldn’t face the reality of what had just happened, of what you had almost allowed yourself to feel. The guilt was too much, too overwhelming. You turned away, your hands still trembling as you moved toward the stairs, needing distance, needing space to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible as you left Joel standing alone in the living room. You hurried upstairs, your heart heavy, your mind racing, every step a reminder of the pull between you and Joel that you had just tried so desperately to resist.

When you reached the top of the stairs, you paused, your hand gripping the banister as you tried to steady your breath. You could still feel the warmth of his lips on yours, the safety of his arms around you, and it terrified you.

Because for the first time in so long, you had felt something real, something you wanted. And yet, the weight of everything else—your marriage, your vows, the guilt—it was too much to bear.

You didn’t look back, but you could feel Joel’s presence downstairs, lingering in the quiet of the house. His words echoed in your mind, and despite everything, you knew deep down that what he had said was true: you deserved more. But admitting that meant facing the truth about everything you had been avoiding for so long.

And you weren’t ready for that.

· · ─────

The days following the kiss were thick with awkwardness and tension that hung between you and Joel like a fog neither of you knew how to clear. Every time you thought about it—his lips on yours, the tenderness in his touch, the way he had made you feel seen and wanted—your stomach twisted with guilt. But there was another feeling too, one that gnawed at you in the quiet moments when you were alone: longing. That kiss had stirred something deep inside you, something that had been buried for far too long, and now, you couldn’t stop thinking about it.

You longed for that feeling again—the safety, the warmth, the tenderness that had been absent from your life for so long. It made the distance between you and your husband feel even wider, the coldness in your marriage more unbearable. But despite how much you tried to shake it, that kiss was constantly on your mind.

Then came the day Joel came over to watch the football game with your husband. You knew it was coming—your husband had mentioned it in passing—but you weren’t prepared to see Joel again. The thought of being in the same room as him after what had happened made your heart race and your palms sweat.

When Joel arrived, you could hear his familiar knock on the door, followed by your husband’s slurred greeting. He had already been drinking, you noticed. You had hoped he would keep it under control, but knowing him, that was never a safe bet.

You opened the door and found Joel standing there, looking as calm and collected as ever. But the moment his eyes met yours, a wave of heat rushed to your face, your heart skipping in your chest. You tried to keep your expression neutral, but it was impossible to ignore the way the memory of that kiss flooded your senses all at once.

He shifted slightly, his hands slipping into his pockets, as if he was just as unsure of how to handle the tension between you. His gaze flickered over your face for just a second longer than it should have, his eyes darkening with something unspoken before he quickly looked away.

You felt the blush creeping up your neck, your cheeks growing warmer by the second. You cleared your throat, your voice barely above a whisper as you tried to greet him without giving anything away.

“H-hi, Joel,” you stammered, forcing yourself to look at him, even though your heart was pounding so hard you were sure he could hear it. Your fingers fidgeted nervously with the hem of your shirt, desperate to find something—anything—to do with your hands.

Joel’s eyes flicked back to yours briefly, and you could see the hesitation there, the same uncertainty you were feeling. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, his voice coming out low and gruff, but with a warmth that only made you blush harder.

“hello there,” he said, his tone casual, but the way his eyes softened when he looked at you made your stomach flip.

The awkwardness was palpable, like neither of you knew exactly what to say. You wanted to hide from the intensity of the moment, to avoid the feelings that had been swirling between you since that kiss. Your gaze darted down to your feet, your fingers still twisting the fabric of your shirt nervously.

Your husband’s voice suddenly bellowed from the living room, a loud demand for more beer, pulling both of you out of the charged moment. Joel winced slightly, his brow furrowing in mild annoyance at the sound, but you just gave a small, flustered nod.

“Uh, I’ll get that for him,” you mumbled quickly, stepping aside to let Joel in, your skin tingling with the awareness of how close he was as he brushed past you.

As Joel entered, you couldn’t help but glance at him one last time, your heart racing again when you saw the way his eyes lingered on you for a brief second before he turned toward the living room, where your husband was already half-immersed in the game.

“Thanks,” Joel murmured softly, his voice still gruff but gentle as he moved to sit beside your husband.

You took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside you. You knew tonight was going to be hard—being in the same room as Joel, pretending that nothing had changed. But the way your heart leapt every time you caught his eye made it clear that things were far from normal between you.

The night dragged on painfully, the tension in the room thick and suffocating. Your husband’s drinking had started early, his excitement for the game quickly turning into something darker, something meaner as the alcohol took hold. It wasn’t unusual for him to drink during football, but tonight, it seemed worse than usual. Each beer drained away whatever patience he had left, and you could feel his mood souring with every sip.

“Get me another one,” he grunted, not bothering to look at you as he pointed at the empty bottle on the coffee table.

You moved quickly, not wanting to cause a scene, especially not with Joel sitting there. The last thing you needed was for Joel to witness the full extent of your husband’s irritability. But as you handed him the beer, your husband’s gaze flickered up to you, and his expression turned sour.

“Can’t you just do one damn thing right?” he muttered, snatching the bottle from your hand. His words were slurred but sharp, laced with frustration as if your mere presence irritated him.

Your cheeks flushed with humiliation, the familiar sting of his words settling deep inside you. You could feel Joel’s eyes on you from across the room, but you didn’t dare look at him. The embarrassment was too much. All you wanted was to get through the night, to make it out of this room with what little dignity you had left.

But it only got worse. As the game continued, your husband’s tone grew harsher, his demands more insistent.

“Get me some more chips,” he barked, barely glancing at you. You quickly obliged, fetching the bowl from the kitchen, trying to keep your hands steady as you placed it on the table in front of him.

Joel, always polite, nodded in your direction. “Thanks,” he said softly, his voice warm and sincere. The contrast between Joel’s quiet gratitude and your husband’s increasing belligerence was jarring, and it only made the ache in your chest worse.

As you turned to walk back to the kitchen, you felt it—your husband’s hand coming down hard on your ass, the slap echoing through the room. You froze in place, your entire body going rigid as the sting of his hand sent a wave of humiliation crashing over you.

“Good girl,” he slurred, his voice dripping with mockery. “You’re real good at one thing at least, huh?”

The room felt like it was spinning, your face burning with shame. You couldn’t bring yourself to move, to even breathe for a moment. Joel was right there. He had seen it all.

Your heart pounded in your chest, the humiliation overwhelming, crushing. You had endured so much already—his cruelty, his indifference—but this? In front of Joel?

You couldn’t stay in the room any longer. Without a word, you turned and walked quickly toward the stairs, your vision blurring as the tears threatened to spill. You could hear your husband muttering something under his breath, but you didn’t care. You just needed to get away.

As you reached the bathroom, you closed the door behind you and leaned against the sink, gripping the edges tightly as the tears finally came. Your breath hitched in your throat as you tried to hold it together, but it was no use. The humiliation, the shame—it was all too much.

You stared at yourself in the mirror, your reflection blurred by the tears that streamed down your face.

What had happened to you? How had things gotten this bad?

You had spent years trying to hold onto the marriage, trying to make things work, but now it felt like you were nothing more than an afterthought, a servant in your own home. The sting of his hand, the cruel way he had dismissed you—it was unbearable.

You didn’t know how long you had been standing there when you heard a soft knock at the bathroom door.

“Hey… it’s me,” Joel’s voice came from the other side, low and cautious, full of concern.

Your heart tightened in your chest. You weren’t sure if you could face him, not after what had just happened. Not after he had seen the way your husband had treated you. But Joel wasn’t like your husband. He had always been kind, always understanding. He had seen you—truly seen you—when no one else had.

“Can I come in?” he asked softly.

You hesitated for a moment, wiping at your tear-streaked face as you tried to compose yourself. Then, slowly, you unlocked the door and pulled it open just enough to let him in.

Joel stepped inside, his presence filling the small space, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. His eyes softened when he saw your tear-streaked face, his brow furrowing in concern.

“I’m sorry,” Joel murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean for things to get like that.”

You shook your head quickly, wiping at your eyes again. “It’s not your fault,” you whispered. “It’s just… this is how it is. I don’t know how to make it stop.”

Joel’s expression darkened slightly, but not with anger—just with sadness, frustration at the situation. He stepped closer, his hand reaching out to gently brush a tear from your cheek, his touch so different from the harshness you had just experienced. His fingers were warm, careful, like he was afraid to push you any further than you were ready for.

“You don’t deserve this,” he said quietly, his voice full of sincerity. “You deserve better than the way he treats you.”

His words broke something inside you, and you felt your lip tremble as another sob escaped. You had been holding it in for so long—holding everything in, trying to be strong, trying to make it work. But now, standing here with Joel, it all came crashing down.

“I don’t know what to do,” you whispered, your voice trembling. “I feel so trapped.”

Joel didn’t say anything for a moment, just stood there, his eyes locked on yours, full of understanding. And then, quietly, he spoke again.

“You don’t have to go through this alone,” he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m here. Whatever you need… I’m here.”

The warmth in his words, the tenderness in his touch—it was more than you had felt in years. For the first time in what felt like forever, you felt seen, felt valued. It stirred something deep inside you, something desperate and raw, a need that had been pushed down for so long.

Before you could even think about it, you lunged toward him, closing the small distance between you and crashing your lips into his. It wasn’t delicate or hesitant—it was a kiss born out of longing, out of months, maybe even years, of being unseen, unheard.

Your hands fisted into his shirt, pulling him closer as your body pressed against his, needing more, needing all of him.

Joel responded immediately, his hands gripping your waist as he kissed you back with a fierceness that matched your own. There was no hesitation in the way his lips moved against yours, no doubt in the way he held you tight.

His hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers threading through your hair as he deepened the kiss, his mouth hungry, demanding.

It wasn’t soft. It wasn’t gentle. It was fire, igniting every nerve in your body. His kiss was rough, filled with a desperation that mirrored your own, like he had been holding back for too long and finally, finally, he could let go. The tension between you, all the unspoken words, all the stolen glances—it was exploding now in this moment, and neither of you could stop it.

Your heart raced as your hands roamed over his chest, feeling the solid warmth of him under your fingertips. The years of loneliness, of being ignored, melted away with every touch, every kiss. Joel’s hands were everywhere, pulling you closer, pressing you against him as if he was afraid to let go.

He pulled back just slightly, his breath ragged, his forehead resting against yours.

“I’ve wanted this,” he murmured, his voice rough and thick with emotion, his lips still brushing against yours. “God, I’ve wanted this for so long.”

You couldn’t respond with words—you didn’t need to. Instead, you pulled him back into the kiss, your lips crashing together again, more desperate, more urgent. His hands gripped your hips, lifting you slightly as he backed you up against the bathroom wall, pinning you there as he kissed you harder, deeper.

There was no space left between you, no room for doubt or hesitation. Your body responded to his in ways you hadn’t felt in years, every nerve alight with the intensity of it. His hands slid down your sides, rough and possessive, holding you tightly as if he couldn’t get enough of you.

You could feel the heat rising between you, the desperation building, as if all the longing, all the frustration had finally found an outlet. His lips moved from your mouth to your jaw, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses down the side of your neck, each touch making your breath hitch, your body arch into his.

“Joel…” you whispered, your voice breathless, barely able to get the words out.

But he already knew. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you even closer, his lips finding yours again in a kiss that was even more intense, more consuming than before. You were lost in him, lost in the feel of him, the taste of him. Everything else—the hurt, the humiliation, the loneliness—faded away until there was only this moment, only Joel.

This was what you had been missing. This was what you had been longing for. And for the first time in so long, you felt alive.

Joel’s breath was hot against your skin as his lips moved along the curve of your neck, each kiss searing into you, grounding you in this moment, in him. His hands gripped you firmly, possessive yet tender, his touch a reassurance that you were more than what you had been made to feel for so long.

“God, you have no idea,” he whispered against your skin, his voice thick with need. “You’re everythin’. You deserve so much more than what he gives you. So much more.”

His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body reacting to the intensity in his tone, the sincerity. You could feel the heat between you building, your heart pounding as his lips moved lower, kissing along your collarbone, your chest. You were lost in the sensation, the way his hands moved over you, the way his breath ghosted over your skin.

Joel's kisses became more urgent, more fervent, as he slowly knelt before you, his hands sliding down to the waistband of your pants. He paused for a moment, looking up at you with an expression that was both filled with desire and a silent question—a request for permission, for trust.

“Let me worship you,” he said, his voice thick with emotion, his hands steady as he began to ease your pants down, his fingers brushing against your skin in a way that sent sparks through you. “I want to show you how much you mean to me. I want you to feel everything.”

The air between you seemed to crackle with electricity as he pulled your pants away, his eyes dark with want as he drank in the sight of you.

Joel stood, lifting you effortlessly in his arms, turning and pressing you gently but firmly against the wall. The coolness of the tile was a sharp contrast to the heat radiating off of him, his body holding yours securely, every inch of your weight supported by his strength.

“You’re everythin’,” he murmured again, his lips finding yours in a deep, lingering kiss before trailing down your neck. “You deserve the world. And I’m gonna it to you.”

Without breaking the kiss, he shifted you slightly, his hands gripping your thighs as he held you against the wall. His mouth moved lower, his lips, his tongue, trailing over your stomach, your hips, until he was kneeling before you again, one arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady as he pressed his lips to the inside of your thigh.

The sensation of his breath against your skin made your head spin, the anticipation building as his kisses grew slower, more deliberate, inching closer and closer to the center of your need. Every kiss, every touch felt like a promise—a promise that you were cherished, that you were seen.

Joel’s lips trembled against your skin as he kissed down your stomach, rough and hungry, his hands gripping your hips tightly as though he was afraid to let go.

His eyes flicked up to meet yours, dark with desire, and his breath came out hot against your bare thighs as he spread you open for him, his tongue flicking out to tease the edges of your soaked entrance.

"Fuck, you're so wet for me," he growled, his voice deep and husky. "I've been waitin’ for this, waitin’ to taste this sweet pussy. You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about it—about you."

You gasped as he buried his face between your legs, his tongue flat and wide as he dragged it through your folds, groaning like he was savoring every drop.

His lips latched onto your clit, sucking hard, sending a jolt of pleasure straight through your body. Your fingers tangled in his hair, gripping tightly as your legs trembled, and he groaned again, the vibration making you whimper.

"God, you're perfect," Joel mumbled against you, his voice muffled as he licked you with long, languid strokes. "This cunt is all mine tonight, yeah? You feel that? You hear that? This pussy's mine."

He sucked noisily, deliberately making sure every stroke of his tongue was loud, wet, and filthy. You could hear the lewd slurping sounds as he devoured you, his mouth greedy and desperate as if he’d been starving for this moment.

Your breath came out in ragged gasps, your whole body burning under his relentless attention.

“What if he hears?” you whispered, your voice shaky as your head fell back against the wall. “Joel… what if—”

“He won’t hear shit,” Joel cut you off, his voice rough with possessiveness. “That asshole’s passed out cold on the couch. Even if he could hear, I wouldn’t stop. He doesn’t deserve you. But I do.”

His tongue plunged into you, fucking you with wet, deep strokes, his nose brushing against your swollen clit as he grunted against you. “This pussy tastes so fuckin’ sweet, baby. All I want is to hear you moan for me. Let him fuckin’ hear it.”

You couldn’t help but whimper, your hips bucking against his face as he growled, his tongue thrusting deeper, his lips and chin coated with your arousal. He pulled back for just a second, his breath heavy, his eyes wild as he looked up at you.

"Fuck, I could eat this pussy all night," he murmured, his voice almost a snarl as he gripped your thighs tighter, pulling you even closer. "I want to make you come on my tongue over and over, until you can't stand. You deserve to be worshipped like this. I’m not stoppin’ until you scream my name."

With that, he dove back in, his tongue swirling over your clit as he sucked you harder, his mouth relentless. You moaned louder, your fingers tugging at his hair as your body arched off the wall, pleasure crashing through you with every filthy stroke of his tongue.

He groaned again, louder this time, savoring every moment as he devoured you, his mouth hot and hungry, like he couldn’t get enough.

He alternated between sucking your clit hard, his lips tight around the sensitive bud, and sliding his tongue deep inside you, fucking your pussy with slow, torturous strokes.

Each time you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, his hands gripping your thighs so hard it felt like he was staking a claim.

"Yeah, that’s it," he murmured between licks, his voice raw. "I want to hear you scream for me. Let me hear how much you love it when I eat this sweet little cunt."

Your moans grew louder, filling the bathroom as Joel’s tongue worked you harder, faster, his groans matching your own as he lost himself in the taste of you.

His hands slid up your body, gripping your breasts roughly as he continued to feast on you, the pleasure so intense it was overwhelming. You couldn’t stop yourself anymore—every nerve was on fire, your mind blank as you gave in completely to him.

"Joel, fuck, I’m gonna—" you gasped, your thighs trembling as you teetered on the edge of release.

"Cum for me, baby," he growled, his voice hoarse as his tongue flicked over your clit again, harder, faster, relentless. "Cum on my tongue. I want to taste all of it."

With a final, devastating suck on your clit, you shattered. Pleasure slammed into you, your entire body shaking as you screamed his name, your nails digging into his scalp as he held you in place, his mouth still working you through the waves of your orgasm.

Joel didn’t stop—he kept licking, kept sucking, devouring every drop as your body convulsed, the intensity of it making your legs shake.

He moaned against you, his tongue softening slightly but still teasing your swollen clit as you came down, his grip on your hips loosening just enough to let you catch your breath.

When he finally pulled back, his face was slick with your arousal, his eyes dark with lust as he looked up at you, his chest heaving.

"You taste like heaven," he rasped, his voice thick with satisfaction as he stood, pressing his body against yours again, his lips crashing into yours in a bruising kiss.

You could taste yourself on his lips, feel the raw, aching desire still burning between you, and you knew this was only the beginning.

“That’s what you deserve,” he whispered, his hands roaming over your body, possessive and loving all at once. “And I’m not done worshippin’ you.”

Joel’s hands moved up your body slowly, deliberately, as if savoring every second his fingers touched your skin. His breath was still ragged, and his lips were barely an inch from yours as he whispered against them, his voice rough but tender.

“If you were my woman, I’d never let you leave the house without makin’ you cum at least twice,” he murmured, his words sending a shiver through you. “And here he is, treatin’ you like garbage. Doesn’t he see? You’re a goddess.”

He paused, his fingers slipping beneath the hem of your shirt, his touch gentle but insistent as he slowly pulled it up, over your head, tossing it to the side. His eyes darkened with hunger as he gazed at your bare skin, his breath coming out in a heavy exhale as he traced his fingers along the curve of your waist, up to the clasp of your bra.

“You represent everything good in this world,” Joel continued, his voice deepening as his fingers worked to unhook your bra, his eyes locked on yours. “He should feel so damn lucky to have you. How can he not see what he has?”

Your bra fell away, and his eyes dropped to your breasts, the sight of them making him groan deeply, the sound vibrating in his chest. His hands cupped them reverently, his thumbs brushing over your nipples as his lips curled into a smirk.

“These,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire, “prove my point exactly.”

Without another word, Joel dipped his head, his lips brushing against one of your nipples before he drew it into his mouth, sucking gently at first, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak.

The sensation sent a jolt of pleasure straight through your core, your back arching as you gasped, your hands instinctively finding his hair, pulling him closer.

He groaned again, his hand kneading your other breast as his mouth worked your nipple with expert precision, sucking harder, his tongue flicking over the sensitive flesh with just the right amount of pressure. Every movement of his mouth, every touch of his hands, felt like he was worshipping you, like you were something precious and sacred.

“I swear,” Joel mumbled against your skin, his lips trailing to your other nipple, sucking it into his mouth with the same intensity.

“If you were mine, I’d worship this body every damn day. You deserve to be treated like the goddess you are, not some afterthought.”

His teeth grazed your nipple, sending another wave of pleasure through you, making you whimper as he continued to suck and lick, his hands never leaving your body, constantly exploring, worshipping. It was like he couldn’t get enough of you, his mouth greedy, his hands possessive, but all of it wrapped in the tenderness that made your heart ache.

“Look at you,” he groaned, his breath hot against your skin as he switched between your breasts, lavishing each one with the same amount of attention. “Every part of you is fuckin’ perfect.”

His hands slid down your sides, gripping your hips as he pressed himself against you, his erection hard and insistent through his jeans. The friction only added to the heat between you, the tension building with every kiss, every touch. Joel’s lips moved back up to your neck, his breath ragged as he pressed soft kisses along your jawline, his words spilling out between them.

“I could spend all night tastin’ you, touchin’ you,” he whispered, his voice low and filled with raw emotion. “You deserve to feel this good all the time. I’d make sure you never forgot it.”

Your mind was spinning, your body burning under his touch. Every word he spoke, every movement of his mouth, was like gasoline on a fire, and you were completely consumed by him, by the way he made you feel—seen, wanted, worshipped.

Joel’s hands slid back up to your breasts, kneading them as his lips claimed yours in another searing kiss, his tongue tangling with yours as he pressed you harder against the wall, his body radiating heat, his need for you palpable.

“Tell me,” he rasped against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Tell me how much you want this.”

Your breath hitched, your lips parting as his words hung in the air between you. The heat in his eyes, the intensity of his touch—it was overwhelming, and you couldn’t stop yourself from responding.

“I want it so bad, Joel,” you whispered, your voice shaky with need, your body arching into him. “Please… take your clothes off. I need to feel you.”

He groaned at your words, his hands gripping your hips tightly, his erection pressing harder against you.

“Yeah, baby,” he growled, his lips brushing yours, “you need to see a real man. Feel a real cock, not just someone who acts like one. I’ll show you the difference.”

With a swift movement, Joel pulled back just enough to yank his shirt over his head, revealing the broad, muscular chest that you’d only stolen glances at before. His skin glistened with sweat, his muscles flexing as he moved, and the sight of him made your mouth water. Your hands moved instinctively to his chest, your fingers tracing the lines of his muscles as you let out a soft moan of appreciation.

“God, you’re beautiful,” you murmured, your voice breathless as your hands wandered lower, desperate to feel every inch of him.

Joel smirked, his hands already working to unbuckle his jeans, his voice dropping to a rough, dirty whisper. “You want this cock, hm? You’ve been starving for it—starving for a man who knows how to take care of you, who knows how to make you cum like you deserve.”

Your heart pounded in your chest as he pushed his jeans and boxers down in one fluid motion, his thick, hard cock springing free, already leaking with precum. It was big—thick and long, veins running down the shaft, the head swollen and glistening.

He gave it a slow stroke, his eyes locked on yours, the sight making your thighs clench with anticipation.

“See this?” he growled, tapping his cock against your thigh, making your breath hitch. “This is what you’ve been missin’. And I’m gonna make sure you never forget what a real man feels like.”

You whimpered in response, your hands reaching out to touch him, to wrap your fingers around his length, but he pulled back slightly, a wicked grin spreading across his face.

“Not yet, baby,” he murmured, his voice full of filthy promise. “I want you to feel it everywhere first.”

With that, Joel pressed his cock against your stomach, dragging it slowly across your skin, leaving a slick trail of precum in its wake. You moaned, the sensation driving you wild, your body arching into him as you felt the heat of his shaft sliding over your skin.

“Fuck, you look so good with my cock on you,” he groaned, his hand gripping his length as he slid it up between your breasts, over your chest, your neck, and then back down again. “You want this. You want to feel it inside you, stretchin’ you, fillin’ you up.”

“Yes, Joel, please,” you whimpered, your voice shaking with desperation. “I need it. I need you. I want your cock so bad, I can’t stand it.”

He chuckled darkly, his hand moving to tap the thick head of his cock against your clit, the sudden jolt of pleasure making you cry out.

“You want it here, yeah?” he growled, slapping his cock against your swollen clit again, harder this time, sending shockwaves of pleasure through your body. “You want to feel me inside this tight little pussy, fuckin’ you like you’ve never been fucked before.”

“Oh, God, yes,” you moaned, your hands gripping his shoulders as your body trembled with need. “Fuck me, Joel. I want to feel every inch of you. I want you to ruin me.”

His eyes flashed with pure desire as he tapped his cock against your clit again, the wet head of his cock throbbing as more precum leaked out, mixing with your own arousal.

He dragged his length through your folds, coating himself in your slickness, groaning as he teased you.

“I’m gonna make you scream for me,” he rasped, his voice thick with lust as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’ll never even think about another man again. You’ll be mine, baby. This pussy will be mine.”

Your breath came in short, ragged gasps as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing you, making you ache for him. Every word he spoke, every filthy promise he made, sent another wave of heat crashing through you, your body desperate for the release only he could give.

“Say it,” Joel demanded, his voice rough as he slid just the tip inside you, stretching you ever so slightly. “Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Joel,” you gasped, your hands gripping his shoulders tighter as you felt him start to push inside you. “I’m yours. Please, fuck me. Make me yours.”

With a deep, guttural groan, Joel thrust into you, his cock stretching you wide, filling you completely. The sensation was overwhelming, your body arching into his as he buried himself deep inside you, his hands gripping your hips as he held you in place.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he growled, his voice strained as he began to move, his cock sliding in and out of you in slow, deliberate strokes. “This pussy is mine now, baby. And I’m gonna make you cum so hard, you’ll forget anyone else ever existed.”

Joel’s thrusts were deep and deliberate, each one sending a shockwave of pleasure through your entire body. His hands gripped your hips hard enough to leave bruises, but the delicious pressure only intensified the raw need coursing between you. His cock filled you so completely, stretching you to the point where you could barely think straight, only able to feel him.

“God, you’re so fuckin’ tight,” Joel groaned, his voice rough with lust as he pulled almost all the way out before slamming back into you with a force that made you gasp.

The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the small room, mixing with your ragged moans and the wet, lewd sounds of your pussy taking every inch of him.

“Fuck, baby,” he growled, his voice low and rough as he leaned in closer, his breath hot against your ear. “This is what you’d get with me all the time. Not that half-assed bullshit you’ve been settlin for. You’d get this—my cock fillin’ you up, my hands on your body, making you cum until you can’t even fuckin stand.”

He punctuated his words with rough, powerful thrusts, his cock driving deeper into you with each one. Your head fell back against the wall, your legs trembling as he held you up, completely at his mercy.

“You feel that?” he rasped, his breath hot against your ear as his hips snapped into you again and again. “You deserve this, you deserve to be fucked like this every day. Not treated like you’re worthless.”

Joel’s mouth was everywhere—his lips moving over your neck, nipping at your skin before kissing and licking at the sensitive spot just below your ear.

His tongue flicked out, tasting the salt of your skin, and you moaned, your fingers digging into his shoulders as he fucked you harder, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you.

“You’re so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice thick with praise and hunger. “My perfect little good girl.”

He kissed down your neck, his lips trailing lower until he found your breasts again, groaning as he took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. The sensation of his mouth on your sensitive skin, combined with the relentless pace of his hips, had you gasping, your body on the verge of breaking apart with pleasure.

“Fuck, ’could suck these tits all day,” Joel murmured against your skin, his teeth grazing your nipple as he switched to the other breast, sucking and licking, his hands gripping your hips tighter as he fucked you harder.

“So fuckin’ beautiful. You’d get this all the time with me, baby. You’re my good girl, hm?”

“Yes,” you gasped, your body trembling as the pleasure built higher and higher, your nipples aching under his relentless attention. “I’m your good girl. Please, don’t stop.”

Joel growled, a deep, primal sound that sent a shiver down your spine as he kissed his way back up to your mouth, his lips crashing against yours in a bruising kiss.

His tongue invaded your mouth, hungry and demanding, as he continued to pound into you, each thrust harder than the last, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

You whimpered beneath him, your nails digging into his back as he pounded into you, his cock brushing against that perfect spot inside you with every thrust.

The pleasure was overwhelming, consuming you, and you could barely form coherent words. All you could do was moan his name, begging for more.

“That’s my good girl,” Joel rasped, his lips trailing down your neck as his hips snapped harder, faster. “You love this, baby? You love havin’ my cock so deep inside you, fuckin’ you the way you deserve. Tell me, baby. Tell me how much you need it.”

“I need it,” you gasped, your voice barely a whisper as your head fell back against the wall, your body trembling with pleasure.

“I need you so bad, Joel. I need your cock. I need you to fuck me harder. I love it. Please, Joel, don’t stop.”

“I won’t stop,” he growled, his hands sliding up your body, cupping your breasts again as he continued to thrust into you, his cock hitting that perfect spot over and over.

“I’ll never stop. You’ll never go a day without feelin’ this. Without knowing how fuckin’ perfect you are.”

His lips moved across your face, kissing your cheeks, your jaw, before finding your neck again, sucking and biting at your skin as he pounded into you. You could feel his cock throbbing inside you, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he pushed you closer to the brink of release.

His tongue claimed your mouth with the same intensity as his cock claimed your pussy, his hands still worshipping your body as if he couldn’t stop touching you.

“You feel so good,” he growled against your lips, his breath ragged as his hips continued to slam into you.

“This is what I’d do every single day if you were mine. I’d wake you up with my tongue on this perfect pussy, make you cum before breakfast, fuck you until you can’t even think straight.”

You moaned loudly, your body arching into his as his filthy words made your head spin, the pleasure building inside you with every thrust of his cock.

His hand slid down your body, his thumb finding your swollen clit and rubbing it in tight circles as he fucked you, his touch sending sparks through your veins.

“I’m gonna make you cum, babygirl,” Joel whispered, his voice thick with desire as he kissed you again, his tongue dominating yours. “I want you to cum all over my cock like a good girl. Show me how much you love it.”

You whimpered, your body trembling as the pleasure mounted, your mind going blank as Joel’s cock slammed into you harder, deeper. His hand on your clit, his mouth on your neck, his body pressed tightly against yours—it was too much, and you felt yourself spiraling toward release.

“That’s it,” he growled, his voice rough as he felt you tighten around him. “Cum for me, baby. Be a good girl and cum all over my cock.”

With a final, devastating thrust, the coil inside you snapped, and you screamed his name as your orgasm tore through you, your body shaking violently as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you.

Your pussy clenched around his cock, milking him as he groaned deeply, his hips never stopping, prolonging your pleasure as he fucked you through your orgasm.

Joel’s hips slowed, but his thrusts remained deep and deliberate, his cock throbbing inside you, the heat of him radiating against your skin. His breath came in hot, ragged bursts against your neck as his hands roamed possessively over your body, caressing every inch of your trembling form.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, his voice thick with need as his hips ground deeper, each thrust making your body arch against him. “You’re fuckin’ perfect. My good girl.”

His words sent another jolt of desire through you, your body still sensitive from your orgasm, but you could feel his need, the tension in his body as he held back. His cock twitched inside you, and you knew he was close—so close.

Joel’s pace slowed slightly, his cock throbbing deep inside you as he hovered over you, his breath hot and heavy against your ear. His hand slid down your side, possessive, as if every inch of your body belonged to him now. He kissed along your jawline, his voice husky, thick with lust and something deeper.

“Where do you want me to cum, baby?” he rasped, his hands gripping your hips as he pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, his cock still twitching inside you.

“Tell me where you want it. I’ll give you whatever you want.”

You felt a rush of heat, your body trembling with the intensity of the moment. Your voice came out shaky, but full of want as you gasped, “Inside, Joel. Please cum inside me.”

A guttural groan escaped his throat, his eyes darkening as he stared at you, the words hitting him like a spark to gasoline.

"God, I’ve been dreamin’ of hearing you say that," he growled, his hips bucking forward again, harder this time. "Pumpin’ you full of my seed. Fuck… the thought of you pregnant with my child?"

“The thought of you, round and swollen with my baby—fuck, sometimes I just cum from imaginin’ it,” he growled, his voice growing more desperate as his thrusts quickened, his cock hitting deep inside you with every movement.

“You’d be so beautiful, so perfect. And you’d be mine—all mine.”

His words sent a shock of pleasure straight through you, the intensity of his dirty talk igniting every nerve in your body. Joel’s hands gripped your hips harder as he thrust deeper, his cock filling you completely with each powerful stroke. His voice was raw, full of desperate hunger as he whispered in your ear.

“Imagine it,” he rasped, his breath hot against your neck, his cock pounding into you relentlessly.

“You, swollen with my baby. I’d make you cum again and again while my child grows inside you. I’d take care of you, worship you… make you feel like the goddess you are.”

The filthy images he painted, combined with the overwhelming sensation of his thick cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy, made your body tremble, your mind reeling with the intensity of it. Your fingers dug into his back as your moans grew louder, matching the rhythm of his thrusts.

His pace grew faster, more frantic as he chased his release, the idea of you full of his cum, of you carrying his child, driving him wild. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hips tightening as his cock swelled inside you, his thrusts becoming erratic.

“You’d be such a good mother,” he groaned, his voice rough as he buried his face in your neck, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

“Fuck, I’m gonna fill you up, baby. I’m gonna cum so deep inside you. I’m gonna make sure every drop stays inside. ’ gonna be so full of my cum.”

You were lost in him, lost in the way his body felt against yours, the way his words wrapped around you, pulling you deeper into the pleasure.

“Yes, Joel,” you gasped, your voice shaky as your body trembled with anticipation. “Please, cum inside me. I want it so bad.”

“Take it, baby. Take all of it. I’m fillin’ you up. God, you feel so fucking good.”

With a deep, primal growl, Joel’s hips slammed into you one last time, his cock pulsing deep inside as he came with a force that made his whole body shudder.

He held you tightly, his breath ragged as he groaned your name, his cum spilling inside you, filling you completely.

You could feel every twitch, every hot pulse of his release, the sensation sending you over the edge again, your body convulsing as a second wave of pleasure crashed through you.

His body shook with the force of his release, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged pants as he held you tightly, his cock twitching inside you as he emptied himself.

He stayed like that for a moment, his body pressed tightly against yours, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he caught his breath. His cock still twitched inside you, his cum warm and thick as it filled you completely. His hands caressed your sides, his touch tender and loving despite the roughness of what had just happened.

Joel’s arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he buried his face in your neck, still trembling with the aftermath of his orgasm. “Fuck… you’re perfect,” he whispered, his voice soft but full of emotion. “’ everything I’ve ever wanted.”

His cock still twitched inside you, the warmth of his cum spreading through your core as he slowly pulled back, pressing soft kisses along your neck, your shoulders.

Joel's breathing was still heavy, his chest pressed against yours as he held you tightly, his cock still buried inside you. He kissed your neck softly, murmuring between deep breaths.

“I’ve been waitin’ for this,” he rasped, his voice low and raw. “You have no idea how long I’ve been savin’ this for you, baby. No one else could ever do it for me. You’re the only one… the only woman I want. I’m full of it, every drop of cum was meant for you.”

His words were tender but possessive, the weight of what he was saying wrapping around you. His hand slid up your side gently, still exploring, as though he couldn’t get enough of touching you. His lips brushed your ear, and his voice took on a pleading tone.

“Please, baby,” he whispered softly, his fingers tightening around your waist. “Leave him. You deserve more. You deserve to be worshipped, loved, the way I’ll love you every single day. You’re mine now. You know that, don’t you?”

You felt your heart pound at the weight of his words, your body still trembling from the intensity of the moment.

As the intensity of the moment began to fade, the weight of Joel's words hung in the air between you. You felt the warmth of his body still pressed against yours, his breath steadying as he held you close, but now, the frantic passion had simmered into something deeper. Something certain.

For the first time in what felt like forever, clarity washed over you. Joel had peeled back all the layers of doubt, of shame, of loneliness, and left you with the undeniable truth—you deserved this. You deserved more.

You shifted slightly in his arms, and he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze was soft, no longer driven by raw desire, but by something far more profound. There was a silent question there, one he didn’t have to ask out loud. He had already said it all.

You smiled softly, your fingers tracing over his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart. You didn’t need to say anything right now. You didn’t need to make promises or decisions this second. But for the first time, you knew. You knew what you wanted, who you wanted.

And Joel knew it too.

“I’ll wait for you,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your temple, the tenderness of the moment grounding you both. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You nodded, feeling lighter than you had in years. You weren’t just his now—you were finally yours.

As the room grew quiet, the weight of your choices settled in, but it wasn’t daunting anymore. It felt like freedom. Like the start of something new.

The beginning of everything you’d been missing.

· · ───────────𖥸──────────· ··

[koling2345]

Retired Simon| NSFW

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Retired! Simon who: Signed the papers to retire as soon as your daughter was born. He wouldn't risk his daughter growing up without a father and you becoming a widow. Never.

Retired! Simon who: Got a job in construction, it was nothing much, quite simple compared to what he'd already had in the army. What he had to do was more related to manual labor. Which he was already used to.

Retired! Simon who: Always came home at six, all tired and sweaty from an exhausting day's work. Working as a construction helper wasn't easy, but for someone who had already worked in much worse situations, it seemed like a piece of cake.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the feeling of coming home, and seeing you and his daughter waiting for him, you with a smile on your face, and the little girl speaking some gibberish, and making loud noises when she saw her father. It was a little piece of heaven on earth.

Retired! Simon who: Was crazy about your food, there was nothing better than coming home and smelling the food you made, it made his stomach rumble. That's why you always made extra food, because he ate like an elephant, literally, you could fill his plate, and he would repeat it. He just loved your food.

Retired! Simon who: Didn't take long to acquire a sweet tooth, your desserts just ruined him. Even if he ate more than enough at dinner, there was always more room for whatever dessert you made. Cake? Oh, he'd eat half the cake in one day, especially if you put icing on it. From time to time, he would eat your sweets and steal your chocolate from the fridge. So it was no surprise when you shouted 'Simon Riley' around the house. He already knew the crime he'd committed, and he wasn't the least bit sorry.

Retired! Simon who: Absolutely adored coming home to hear your little girl talking, she still struggled to pronounce the right words, but Simon made an effort to understand the little princess, even if she said silly childish things. Since she was always complaining about how tiring her day was, that she did a lot of things. She'd only put her toys back in the toy box.

Retired! Simon who: Loved it when you'd bring him lunch at work, it was a good excuse to chat with you during his break. As well as stealing a few kisses from you. Sometimes even something more.

Retired! Simon who: No matter how tired he was, he always put your little girl to sleep, telling her her favorite princess story, watching as she slowly fell asleep. Every time Simon saw his daughter sleeping so peacefully, he felt his heart flutter. It was a view he would never be tired of.

Retired! Simon who: Helped you with the housework, hated you being overwhelmed, so he washed the dinner dishes, put the clothes in the wash, prepared a bath for you. He himself would rather die of exhaustion than see you doing too many chores. He was your husband, so he always helped you. He always put you first, even if he arrived completely exhausted. It was nothing much, just him being a descent husband, as you deserved.

Retired! Simon who: Sometimes he came home so tired, all he wanted was a good head, his body was so sore, all he wanted was to sit on the sofa and let you do the work, getting down on your knees and deep- throat him. Just the way he loved it, his cock shoved into your mouth, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat, while you looked up at him, eyes filling with tears, you obeyed his words of encouragement, always taking him deeper. Until you choked, and he pushed deep into your throat.

Retired! Simon who: Always gave you rewards after a well-delivered oral, this consisted of waking you up with him right between your legs, head buried between your thighs while he lapped you up. Sucking your clit really hard, just to hear you wake up, moaning and whimpering that you were sensitive. Not that he was going to stop, because he was working on you even more.

Retired! Simon who: Loved the lazy sex sessions in the morning, he loved seeing you all sensitive and sly, taking his cock so well, even though you were drunk with sleep. Sometimes he'd just turn you over and put his cock in your sopping cunt, because he knew you were always ready for him. You were made for him, after all.

Retired! Simon who: Was a complete slut for you, could never keep his hands off you, sometimes even at work he would ask for photos, so he could jerk off and relieve a little of his stress. And he would definitely fuck you hard when he got home.

Retired! Simon who: Also loved having romantic sex with you, having you on his lap while you rode his cock, slowly, at your own pace. His hands on your hips while the two of you kissed, whispering sweet nothings to each other. He liked it so much, he couldn't feel your pussy clenching around his girth, he'd come just like that. Your fault for doing it so well.

Retired! Simon who: Never thought he wanted to have a big family, until you got pregnant. After your first child, he certainly wanted more, of course, if you wanted them too. And given the countless times he's taken you around the house, it wouldn't be a surprise if you turned up pregnant once again.

Retired! Simon who: Wouldn't trade anything, absolutely anything, for his family. As much as he loved his old job, nothing was better than coming home, warm food, a sweet little girl, and a beautiful wife, that was priceless. And he'd be crazy to let that go.

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Hi guys! Sorry for disappearing, I'm just posting to let you know I'm alive. If I manage to post anything in the next few days, it's scheduled, I won't be able to answer comments or questions, I'm in my college exam week 😐. I'm totally cooked🫠, so I should only be around for the next week! I'm not ignoring anyone, I promise to reply as soon as I can 🫶🏻

[p1astr81]

baby piastri - op81

in which: Oscar is learning to take care of his new baby girl.

pairing: dad!oscar piastri x mom!reader

warnings: none I don’t think?? fluff, super short blurb

‧‧₊˚ ⋅* ۶ৎ ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅

You woke to the sound of yours and Oscar’s child crying. It’s been only three weeks since you brought her home, but it felt like ages, as you have hardly slept. Oscar usually slept through her cries. You never wanted to bother him, so you took care of it yourself despite his many protests.

Tonight was no different. You didn’t care about the time as the concept of it became irrelevant to you in the past weeks. But at some point late in the night, your little Isla started to fuss. You rubbed the sleep from your eyes, walking in zombie-like motions toward the baby cradle. You yawned as you reached into her cot, but your hands were met with nothing but air.

All of your senses immediately switched on high. You became more alert than that time you had three energy drinks in one day. You followed the sound of her cries, your feet moving faster than your brain could even process.

Your movements stopped when you saw Oscar pacing around the living room. He kept his usual calm demeanor, but you knew him so well that you could tell he was internally panicking. Little isla flailed in his arms as he softly bounced her around, hoping it would calm her. It didn’t. Her lungs worked overtime as she cried.

There was an open book on the coffee table. One of the books Oscar bought in preparation for the baby. A book all about parenting a new born. He leaned over to read something before turning to Isla, “You want your passy? Is that it?” He asked, offering the piece of plastic right in front of her mouth, but she swatted it away with her little hand. “No? Okay. Are you hungry then?” His voice was soft and low, overflowing with concern. “Mum isn’t awake but I’m sure there’s some food for you in the fridge.” He smiled lovingly down at your daughter.

“Oscar,” you called softly, just loud enough for him to hear you over isla’s screeching cries. His eyes met yours, an amount of remorse in them that you’d never seen before. He sighed. “I’m sorry, hon. I really didn’t want to wake you. I tried to get her to calm down.” He knew how much you’d been doing. How often you’d wake up and how little you slept. He always tried to help but you were so stubborn on being independent. His attention reverted back to the baby girl, tsk-ing out shushes as he tried to calm her.

You grabbed an unfinished bottle from the day before, and met Oscar in the middle of the room to hand it over. “I don’t know how you do it.” He chuckled and joined you on the couch. Luckily, isla clung to the bottle as soon as it was in her reach, solving the problem of her screaming. “You’ll learn,” you replied with a hum and rested your head on his shoulder. It didn’t take long for you to drift away from consciousness.