#this is going to be one of those family stories that I'll pass down to my children and grandchildren | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

imaginaryf1shots · 3 months

Text

Soulmate | Max Verstappen Ver.

WC: 4.1K

Max x journalist!reader

Summery: you live in a world where soulmates exist, and until you find yourself, you only see in black and white.

Warnings: none?

Masterlist

Max Masterlist

Lewis Ver. , Oscar Ver. , Charles Ver.

In a world where everyone is born seeing black and white, the promise of seeing colour is on everyone's mind. The key to unlocking the colours is your soulmate. Meeting their eyes will make you be able to see all the hues and shades of the world. Those who see colours describe it so beautifully. People usually discover their soulmates between the age of 18 and 25, some earlier and some later. However, some people start to lose hope when year after year passes and no colour is introduced into their lives.

You have lived your life hoping and believing that one day, a single glance will change your world. But as you've hit your adult years and not a single colour, you've lost hope, all your friends and family see colour already, even your 13 year old cousin. So you just came to terms with seeing life in monochrome. You just focused on your career, building it up and making something of yourself.

You've worked in a few sports before, football, tennis before you moved to motorsport, starting with NASCAR then Formula 2 and here you are now after two months in Formula 2 you've been promoted to Formula 1. The world of formula 1 is very fast-paced, and you find yourself deep in it, watching old races and interviews and races. The sport intrigued you, the races, the adrenaline, the drama.

Due to your easy going nature, and how you can get people comfortable, you've been made to interview the drivers for a new segment for F1TV, a room was giving to you on track and each week you sit down for a long interview with two drivers.

“I just don't understand. Why won't you try it?” You heard your mum's voice through your phone's speaker. Rolling your eyes at her words as you got ready for the day. “Don't roll your eyes at me.”

You sigh and wonder how she always knows when you do that. “Mum, I told you, I don't want to.”

“I just don't get why, I've heard of so many stories of people being happy after they try it.”

“Mum, please, I'm busy with work, I don't have time for any of this.” You exasperated.

“That excuse died a long time ago.” Your mum fought back.

“Mum, I love you, but you just don't get it, so please just leave me be.”

“I only say this because I care about-”

“You don't understand, and you never well, okay, you found dad when you were 19, you've found him and you never had to go on dates for people who lost or gave up, and yes I kind of lost hope, I'm not getting my hopes up anymore, but it kills me, why do I not have a soulmate, everyone I know already found theirs and I hear about it all the time, I'm lonely, I'm extremely lonely, even when I'm out with friends when we have family gatherings I'm lonely, and I heat about colours and shades and all I see is grey, so don't try to enterfer anymore please, just let me be.”

There was a long moment of silence.

“I'm sorry, love.” Was all she could say in the end. “I didn't realise.”

“I know you didn't.” Your voice sounded defeated. “I have a to go, I'll talk to you later.”

“Okay, honey, talk to you later.”

Your conversation with your mother left you feeling down and unmotivated.

This weekend, you'd be interviewing Alex Albon and Max Verstappen. Alex came first, and you sat down in front of the cameras for the lengthy interview. The set was cozy, and Alex was a blast to interview. You talked about racing to his pets, to golf, to his dreams, and so on. Alex is funny and easy to talk to you, so the interview went smoothly, and he didn't stop talking, and it all just flowed easy between the two of you. Even with your bad mood, you still enjoyed your time, and your mood got better.

After Alex left with a quick hug, you were told that Verstappen would be coming a bit later than anticipated, so you'd have 45 minutes between the interviews. That time, you and the crew took a break and ate some food before you had to be ready once more for the reigning world champion. And right before he came in, one of the crew rushed in and went straight to you and the producer.

"Max is apparently in a very bad mood. The media panel today was a disaster." He told the two of you, your eyes met the producers in worry. You've seen interviews of angry Max, and you weren't looking forward to interviewing him, not after the morning you had.

"I thought we only had drivers without the panel for the week?" You asked, confused.

"I did, too. There must've been a mix-up either with us or his schedule." The producer told you. "What was he asked?"

"Uh, they asked about him not finding his soulmate, and if it's maybe a sign that he's meant to be alone." You and the producer gasped at the rude question, of course his mood was soured, you don't ask or speak about people who haven't found their soulmates like that, you knew the pain of not finding your other half very well, and it's always painful to constantly asked about if you found them. "They even asked if he thinks his mood will get better once he does and if he'll calm down."

"Wow, that's just, that's so rude." The producer said and looked at you. Everyone knows you haven't found yours as well. The producer gave you a smile and patted your shoulder. "Don't worry and just stay calm. Our questions aren't intrusive or uncatting. We don't have anything about his love life.”

“You're right.” You nod to yourself in encouragement.

Max walks in with his entourage, his press officer walks over to you and the producer, she tells you to just jump into the interview seeing as he ran late to come here and he has other things he needs to do after.

You glance at the driver as he gets mic-ed up. Max's presence was imposing, his haw was set, and his eyes were hard. You could feel his mood even from a distance. The producer hurried you along.

You sat on the comfortable sofa, you try out the sofas each week to make sure it's comfortable for the drivers, as the sport light was on you. You introduced yourself with a fake smile, glancing at Max for a second before looking at your notes.

"Good afternoon, Max." You started calming your racing heart by saying to yourself that this is just an interview. "Thank you for taking the time to speak with us today. How are you feeling about this weekend's race?"

"It's going to be a challenging race, but I'm confident." Max's expression remained guarded, but he responded as calmly as he could. "The team has done a great job, as we're well-prepared."

"That's always good to hear." You replied, keeping your tone light. Maybe this won't be too bad. "This track has a lot of history. Do you have any special memories or moments here that stand out to you?"

"Definitely, this was one of the first tracks I raced in in Formula 1." Max's gaze softened, and yet again, your eyes just looked all over his face not meeting his eyes, even in monochrome you couldn't deny how good looking he is, you wondered what colour his hair is, it looks soft.

"It's a very demanding track, but once you get it right, it's very rewarding."

"That's wonderful." You nodded, feeling the tension ease just a bit. "Now, moving away from racing for a moment, how do you usually unwind during the season? Especially with such a long season, do you have any hobbies or activities that help you relax?"

As you asked the question, you looked up, meeting Max's eyes for the first time. In that split second, and as you blinked, everything changed. The world around you, previously in grayscale blur, just erupted into vibrant, breathtaking colour. Starting from Max's eyes, their shades the first thing you've seen, and moving to the color of his clothes, the sofa and everything around you, everything has come to life in a way you've never experienced before. Max's eyes warm and held an expression mirroring your own.

Max blinked, and in an instant, his stern an slightly annoyed façade/mood broke, a genuine smile that he never had before broke across his face.

"I-uh." He cleared his throat to try and regain some of his composure after the revelation he just had, both your eyes meeting and not straying from each other. "I enjoy spending time with my family and friends." He said, his voice softer, almost as if he was speaking to you alone. "I also spend a lot of time sim racing and gaming with my friends, a bit of FIFA here and there."

Like Max, you could hardly believe what had happened, fighting to maintain your composure, you continue a smile tugging at your lips. "That sounds like a lot of fun. Do you ever play FIFA with other drivers? I imagine it would get pretty competitive."

"Yes, we do, sometimes." Max chuckled, the tension between the two of you completely dissolved to the amazement of everyone behind the cameras. "It's always a good time, and it definitely gets competitive. We take it seriously, even though it's just for fun."

The crew keeps exchanging confused glances unaware of the profound shift that had occurred. You force yourself to focus on the next question, the vibrant colours making everything around you feel surreal.

“Speaking of competition, if you weren’t a Formula 1 driver, what other career path do you think you might have taken?” You asked, genuinely curious.

Max leaned back, considering the question. “I’ve always been passionate about sports, so maybe something related to that, like engineering or coaching. I enjoy working closely with a team and seeing how everything comes together.”

“That’s really interesting.” You said, nodding. “It shows how much you value teamwork and the technical aspects of the sport.”

“What about you?” Max asks, and you look at him confused. “If you weren't a journalist, what would you want to be?”

“Oh, since I choose sports and have been surrounded by it for years, I think I'd be a sportswoman.” You tell him with a smile. “You're lucky, I'm too old to get into karting.”

“Guess, if you were into karting, we would've met years ago.” You knew what he meant. You could've met your soulmate years ago if you'd been in karting.

“I guess so.” You try not to think about the what ifs as you ask the last question. “One last question that we ask to every driver, what advice would you give to young aspiring drivers who look up to you?”

Max’s eyes met yours again, a spark of connection undeniable between you. “I’d tell them to stay focused and never give up. It’s a tough journey, but if you’re passionate and willing to work hard, you can achieve your dreams. It’s important to stay dedicated, even when things get tough.”

“Great advice, Max. Thank you so much for your time. It’s been a pleasure talking with you.” You concluded, barely able to contain the smile spreading across your face.

Max smiled back, the warmth in his eyes unmistakable. “Thank you. It’s been great speaking with you, too.”

The interview wrapped up, but as the revelation between the two lf you lingered you didn't want to leave, after so many years of guessing who your soulmate be and almost giving up entirely you didn't want to be apart from even for a second.

Max may seem tough to people, strong and determined, but he's spent nights dreaming of when he'd finally meet you. His thoughts lately have been of self doubt, maybe everyone is right, and the reason he hadn't met you yet is that he doesn't deserve you. He's too hot-headed, too aggressive. But here you are, proving him and everyone who doubted him wrong.

The crew, oblivious to the transformation, began packing up the equipment, their chatter and movements a blur in your colourful new world.

Max turned to you, his demeanour noticeably lighter, a subtle smile still playing on his lips.

“I don’t have my phone with me.” Max managed to find his voice, his voice softer now, almost tentative. “Could I borrow yours for a moment?”

“Of course.” You replied, your voice trembling slightly as you handed him your phone.

He took it with a nod of thanks and quickly entered his number, calling his own phone to ensure that he'll be able to contact you after the day is over. When he handed your phone back, your fingers brushed, and an electric jolt shot through you, confirming the profound connection. As if the colours weren't enough, the electric feeling that went through you is a confirmation. Max left the room with a lingering look at you.

The crew, sensing something unusual but unable to pinpoint it, exchanged puzzled glances. One of your colleagues approached, and his brow furrowed in confusion.

“What just happened?” He asked, his tone laced with curiosity. “Did you two know each other before?”

You struggled to keep your emotions in check, a smile fighting to break free. “No, we just...connected.” You said, unable to find the right words to describe the whirlwind of emotions and the explosion of colour that had transformed your world.

Max left the room and started to look around, as if he's seeing everything for the first time and in a sense he was. He took in the colours that have been described to him many times before, he looked to the sky and saw the blue everyone described, he saw a few trees and saw the green leaves and the brown trunk. Everything looked so different now.

The rest of the day you both got questions and buzzed looks from those working with you, both your moods are good and it's not wavering, it's not changing. The realisation of what had happened, of finding your soulmate in such an unexpected place, left you reeling.

Later, as the paddock began to empty and the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the vibrant landscape, as you stood and watched your first colourful sunset, you received a message from Max.

Meet me after you finish work. We need to talk.

Time could couldn’t go by fast enough, you kept looking at your phone waiting for Max to tell you where you'd meet you had finished your work for the day, but work for F1 drivers take kuchen longer than yours. Every moment stretched into eternity as you waited for it to end. As you looked at the sun from the top of the FIA hospitality, you wished Max was with you enjoying your first sunset together. You dont know Max, you know if Max, but you've never met before today, but you feel like you do. It feels like everything is alright, like the world is finally tilted the right way, gravity is finally working.

come to redbull motorhome.

You made the jounry from the FIA building to redbull, right as you reached through building Max came out and gestured for you to come in, trying not to be seen by fans or cameras. He made you walk in front of him, his hand on your back as he guided you. You feel the heat, and even the electricity was evident through the layers of your clothes, you relaxed instantly to his toutch, leaning back into it. Max sighed. It felt like he could toutch you skin to skin, the feeling vibrated through him filling him up.

Max led you to his room. From the tours you've seen other teams do, Max's room looked the best. You both sat on the sofa facing each other. Your eyes were just taking the other in, Max's hair was ruffled, as if he ran his hand through it a lot. You took in his eyes, which you now know are blue, his nose the shape of his jaw, yhe frekle on his lips, you're trying to memorise him. Tattoo him into your mind.

Max took your hand in his, and you wonder if the feeling of electricity will remain forever or will it fade with time. You both close your eyes for a moment.

“Did you have a good day?” You asked softly after you opened your eyes.

“It didn't start ikay, but there's something that made my day, my week, my life.” Max replied, his voice gentle. You couldn't fight the smile that took over your face. There was a moment of silence, each of you searching for the right words to express the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

“I can’t believe what happened earlier.” You began, your voice filled with wonder and disbelief. “I never thought... I had almost given up on finding my soulmate.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “Me too. I’ve been so focused on racing, I started to think that maybe it wasn’t going to happen for me. But then I saw you, and everything changed.”

You leaned closer, it wasn't a conscious decision, but you were feeling the warmth of his presence. “I’ve been living in black and white for so long, I forgot what it felt like to hope. And now, it’s like... like everything has come alive.”

Max squeezed your hand, sending a familiar electric thrill through you, a reminder of the bond you had discovered. “I know exactly what you mean. I’ve been so caught up in my career, I stopped looking for anything else. But today, meeting you... it’s like the world has finally made sense.” You smiled, your heart swelling with a mixture of relief and joy. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? How we can go from feeling like we’re missing something, to finding everything in a single moment.”

“I’m so glad we found each other. It’s like a dream come true, one I never thought I’d get to experience.” Max’s gaze softened, his eyes reflecting the same vibrant colors that now filled your world.

You squeezed his hand, feeling the connection deepening with each passing second. “I’m happy too. I was beginning to think that maybe it wasn’t meant for me, that maybe I’d never see the world in colour. But now, being here with you... it feels like everything was leading up to this.”

Max’s smile widened, and he leaned closer, his hand still holding yours. “I know we’ve just met, but I feel like I’ve known you forever. It’s like... like we were always meant to find each other, no matter what.”

You nodded, tears of happiness welling up in your eyes. “I feel the same way. It’s like all the waiting. All the wondering was worth it because it brought me to you.”

He gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down your cheek, his touch tender and reassuring. “We have a lot to look forward to.” he said softly. “And I can’t wait to experience everything in colour, either you.”

You leaned into his touch, your heart filled with a warmth you had never known before. “Me too, Max. I’m so grateful we found each other, even if it took a bit longer than we expected. It was worth the wait.”

He pulled you into a gentle embrace, the world around you fading into a blur of colour and emotion. For the first time in your life, you felt complete, the missing piece of your heart finally found.

As you sat there in his room, the noise from outside faddws away and a that mattered was that you found each other.

Later that week on Sunday, you find yourself in the media pen, Max wasn't on the podium after contact with another driver on track, Max wasn't amused, he hated losing, he was clearly not satisfied. The frustration was evident in his clenched jaw and the tense set of his shoulders as he made his way through the sea of microphones and cameras, his responses curt and tinged with irritation. The incident with another driver had cost him the win, and you could already sense the frustration simmering in the air.

Finally, it was your turn. As he approached, you could see the tension in his posture, the anger still simmering just below the surface. You offered a gentle smile, hoping to soften his mood.

“Hi, Max. Tough race today.” You began, keeping your voice calm and understanding. “Can you walk us through what happened out there?”

Max sighed, his expression strained but slightly less harsh as he met your gaze. “Yeah, it wasn’t great. We were doing well, but then there was contact with another car, and that threw everything off. It’s frustrating because we had a good chance of winning.”

You nodded, listening intently. “I can understand how disappointing that must be. Can you tell us more about the incident? What exactly happened?”

He glanced around, his irritation still evident but less intense than before. “He was going for an overtake, and I thought I had enough room, but we ended up colliding. It cost us a lot of time and positions. It’s just... frustrating.”

Your heart went out to him. You wanted to offer some comfort, to show him that you understood his frustration. Max was leaning his hands on the barrier so you subtly reached out and touched his hand, a gentle, reassuring gesture. He glanced down, surprised, and when he looked back up at you, his eyes had softened.

“I’m really sorry to hear that, Max.” You said, your voice filled with genuine concern. “It must be tough to end the race this way after all the hard work you and the team put in.”

He took a deep breath, his expression relaxing a bit more. “Yeah, it’s not the result we wanted, but that’s racing. We’ll learn from this and come back stronger. Thanks for understanding.”

You offered a supportive smile, your hand still resting lightly on his. “I’m sure you will. You’ve always shown great resilience. What’s the plan moving forward from here?”

Max’s mood seemed to lighten further, the tension visibly easing from his shoulders. “We’ll go back, analyze what happened, and make sure we’re better prepared for the next race. It’s important to keep looking forward.”

“Absolutely.” You agreed, your voice encouraging. “One setback doesn’t define you or the team. You’ve got a lot of races ahead, and I’m sure we’ll see you back on the top soon.”

He smiled, a genuine warmth in his eyes. “Thanks. It means a lot to hear that.”

As the interview wrapped up, Max’s demeanor was noticeably calmer. The frustration from earlier had dulled, replaced by a quiet determination. He glanced at you, a hint of gratitude in his expression.

“Thanks for the interview.” He said, his voice softer once the mic was out of his face. “And for... you know, understanding.”

You smiled back, your heart lifting. “Anytime, Max. I’m sure the next race will be better.��

He nodded, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer before he turned to leave. Max will always be grateful for you. He's known you for a couple days, and you both spent all of your free time together and texting whenever you could. He felt like you understood the highs and lows of racing making him bind with you more. You understood sport and how everything can change in a second.

For now, the disappointment of the day was behind him, and the promise of future victories lay ahead. And in that brief, quiet moment, you had been able to offer a bit of comfort, a reminder that even in the toughest times, there’s always a reason to look forward.

Max accidently said he sees colour in one of the interviews a few months later, and so the hunt for his soulmate has begun. Thankfully, since you work in F1, you weren't suspected, and so you were able to keep your privacy. For a while.

During winter break, photos of you were released to the public, and the fans have gone wild. Every single interaction you've had was cut and edited. And the moment your eyes met went viral all over social media, in the F1 sphere and outside of it.

For you and Max, you're both just glad you finally found your other half. That you don't have to go through this world alone.

Vote for the next one

Maintaglist

@gnatthefly . @mochimommy2002 . @llando4norris . @mrswolffs-blog . @barcelonaloverf1life . @c-losur3 . @xoscar03

2K notes · View notes

iocaisaint · 2 months

Text

I don't know how to explain but one thing I'll always love about Nesta is her accomplishments and how she's seen in the eyes of canon vs how they genuinely don't register to her (like not in a humble way she genuinely just never thinks about)

like she's able to circumvent a high lords glamour through pure strength of will

she then treks on a 4 day round trip through wolf country in the dead of winter to go get her sister back, simply because it wasn't right she was taken when the family has only benefitted from that

this leads into ACOMAF where Feyre thinks about asking Rhysand if he can force Nesta's hand if she doesn't agree to host (daemati powers) and then questions if he could even do it to Nesta

We've got literal gods talking about some Nesta "you're the one the wind whispered about" in ACOWAR

her having the King off Hybern scared as a human simply because she pointed a finger at him

Then there's the king slaying obviously

Then at some point between ACOFAS & ACOSF she manages to deal with her terror of bathtubs through pure exposure therapy and no outside help

Then there's the weapons she made

Not being able to be contained by Rhys at the height of her power (+ him admitting that she scares)

Kelpie slaying, dread trove, pure death etc.

Then there's the mother imbuing her power into Nesta's friendship bracelets? This one was genuinely crazy

Her managing those 10,000 steps that were difficult for even the bat boys on nothing but strong thighs and spite!

This is one I hate but the IC just throwing her at any single man (Helion & Eris) in Pyrthian to get what they want and it working

Holding the pass for Gwyn & Em, murdering Briallyn, stopping time, making a deal with a soup pot, having a one on one with the mother and saving Nyx, Feyre and Rhys in one morning

Then HOFAS she's calling up the dread trove through universes and slaying the wyrm, getting Gwydion and going down as saviour of another universe

This entire moment>>>>>> "Rhys nodded without looking at the warrior, and focused all his fury on Nesta. To her credit, the female stood stiff-backed, chin high. Imperious and unbending. Ember couldn't help but admire her.

Rhysand’s violet-blue eyes guttered into pure darkness at the challenge in Nesta’s expression, her stance. A predator recognizing a worthy opponent—and unsheathing its talons. His hands curled at his sides, as if invisible claws were forming."

Then we get into Nesta's pov and her only desires are to go home to her man, hang out with Emerie & Gwyn, get her hands on a pegasus, read smutty books and eat chocolate cake 😭

I may not like how her story went but I'll always appreciate that this part of her stayed the same

#nesta #nesta archeron #pro nesta archeron #pro nesta #acotar #acosf #hofas #one thing about her two things for sure she's always at the front of somebody's mind!#2am ramblings #this is not discourse or hate to any other character before y'all start #lady death #like her perception in the world vs who she is crazy work #remember when she was straight up told she could rule the world and was.... I don't want to 🤷🏼‍♀️

496 notes · View notes

shesjustanothergeek · 1 month

Text

The Gods We Can Touch Chapter Six: Salt and Blood

Masterlist of Series

Summary: The older twin of Prince Jacaerys Velaryon, you were a picture of the maiden, untouched and untainted by man's sins. At least, that was what Alicent Hightower believed when she held you in her arms moments after her old friend's labors. You were her shining light, her dream. Though you were never hers, she believed you were meant to be.

What will become of you as time passes and the Queen's shining light grows within the blackened darkness? Will her eldest son's morbid fascination with the light burn the realm? Or will her second son's obsession with the only daughter of Rhaenyra Targaryen change the course of the Seven Kingdoms as we know it?

Author's Note: Alright, everyone. This is the last time you'll see baby Aemond and the reader, so let's cherish it. In the next chapter, we will start where the show did with the characters aged up in Ep. 8. I'm very excited to write for adult MC. I'm not going to lie; I'm a bit worried about writing Aemond's inner dialogue, as I've never written for a male character who isn't obsessed with the reader, but I'm sure I'll do fine. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Chapter Warnings: Alicent being delulu, parentified sibling trauma, and watch me make you feel even worse about Driftmark.

As you journeyed from the gloomy corridors of the Red Keep to the sulfuric atmosphere of Dragonstone and now to the sandy shores and scattered shells of Driftmark, an air of sadness seemed to cling to you wherever you went. You stood at the edge of a cliff, gazing down at the tranquil sea, overlooking the stone coffin that cradled your late Aunt Laena. Two deaths, each carrying its weight of sorrow, yet only one mourned.

You wondered what it would be like to die choked in flames like Ser Harwin and Lyonel Strong did. Would it be the same as suffering dragon fire like your Aunt? Most likely not. Hers was a swift burning of flesh from bones, while theirs was hours of agony and suffocation.

Despite what your family claimed, the idea of dying to your own dragon’s flames wasn’t an appealing end to you. It didn’t seem noble like how stories explained it to be. It was horrifying to have your skin torched from your body, to feel the power of a thousand suns on your flesh. It would be excruciatingly painful, and you wished it upon no one, not even those you despised most. You would much rather meet the Stranger in your sleep.

You barely settled into your new home on Dragonstone before your mother received the two ravens. One bringing news of Ser Harwin and the other of Laena, containing death in the ink. You consoled your mother and father as best you could, hugging and kissing and telling them that you loved them and were sorry. It was an impossible task to do, but you couldn’t help yourself. You hated seeing them so distraught and wanted to make them feel better.

At night, you cried into your pillows in your now isolated bedroom until Jace and Luke entered, watery eyes matching yours. As the eldest, it was your job to hold your family together when your parents couldn’t, and it left you no time to properly grieve the loss of an Aunt and a father figure.

You felt terrible for your cousins Baela and Rhaena. To go to bed one night and wake up the next without a mother was a depth of grief you couldn’t imagine. You didn’t think you could live a life without your mother; you would die with her, and the ability of your cousins to continue without her was admirable as you observed their sullen faces streaked with tears.

Your Great Uncle Vaemond spoke his sermon in High Valyrian, which was too fast and practiced for you to understand. You could decipher some words here and there, but ultimately, you were lost listening to a man you rarely met. You felt your mother straighten her stance from behind, her arms coming to circle the three of you in a protective embrace.

Vaemond’s eyes were on yours, Luke’s, and Jace’s, but everyone else was focused on him—on the coffin with Lady Laena’s face carved into it.

As your eyes wandered to the other people surrounding the funeral procession, fear struck you as you caught your eldest uncle’s eye. It wasn’t very comforting to see Aegon so soon. You had set it in your mind that you wouldn’t have to see him for many years, and yet, here you were, dressed in an obsidian and red-sleeved gown, pearls adorning the collar and your veiled headpiece. Quickly, you turned away, instinctually taking Jace’s hand in yours.

An air of stiffness surrounded your family that you weren’t blind to. It was always there, but now, more than before, you felt it. You thought it was childish to be so locked into familial drama when someone lay dead inside a casket. Though you didn’t remember much of the times you met your Aunt Laena, she still deserved the respect of putting these grievances aside. You knew you were part of it, but more important things were happening than what you suffered.

The cries of your father sent waves of sadness into your heart, and with the sudden urge to get him to stop, you left the safety of your brother and clung to your father’s waist. He lifted you into his sea-worn arms and clung to your frail body as if it was the only thing that kept him from sinking into his grief. You rested your temple onto his shoulder, tears of empathy falling from your eyes as he pressed your head closer.

Afraid of what would become of your father if you let go, you allowed him to crush you in his embrace for as long as he needed it as a scornful laugh broke through the tense atmosphere. You peeked from your position to see Great Uncle Daemon chuckling to himself with a shake of his head at what Vaemond said. You felt annoyance bubble inside you, solidifying your distaste for the man as the Velaryon guards clad in silver armor and blue seahorse sigils lifted the ropes and lowered your Aunt into the roaring sea.

You didn’t leave your father’s side for the remainder of the day, not even when he slowly lowered himself into the sea with his sister as the cold, salty breeze swept through the evening. You wanted to speak with Aemond, if just for a small moment, but your family came first. They always came before anyone else, a fact that your mother instilled into the very fabric of your being.

Sitting atop one of the rock ledges near your father, you dipped your feet into the saltwater, dragging your toes to watch the water ripple and allow time to pass. It didn’t feel right to leave him alone. The image of him falling into the ocean as your Aunt played repeatedly in your mind’s eye. You were afraid in his grief, he would follow her. Only when your father’s squire, Ser Qarl, took your father from his place with his sister did you leave, joining the rest of the goers for the wake late in the evening.

Searching through the crowd of people for your mother and your brothers, you couldn’t find them. Alone with none of your family for protection, you felt fear pull at your chest. Your hands began to scratch at your arms and scalp, attempting to quell the insatiable itch. The fabric prevented you from doing so, and tears of fright soon began to collect at your lashes.

From across the balcony, you saw a flash of green, a color that had never offered you comfort until now. Yet as quickly as you saw it, it vanished, leaving only a head of white promptly running down the stairs. You felt your heart drop into your feet as you watched Aemond run across the sandy dunes like he was running from you.

The call of a dragon you never heard before screeched through the gray skies. It was mournful as if it were calling for a lost pet or child. In this case, it was a rider. As you looked up, you could see the vast shadow of Vhagar’s silhouette soaring through the clouds, flying in the same direction your uncle went. You felt your eyes grow wide with worry at the realization, wanting to chase after Aemond and warn him.

“Let’s get you to bed,” a tender, feminine voice came from behind you as you jolted in surprise. The tall figure of Queen Alicent stood before you, curly auburn hair pinned back into a magnificent updo and clad in her usual green and gold as she put a hand on your back. “Your mother already sent your brothers.”

“Where is she?” you hastily asked. Aemond was no longer on your mind.

“I’m uncertain. Your father is off drowning his sorrow in his cups with his squire,” she answered in the same velvet voice you remembered her having, bitterness you didn’t understand laced in the undertone.

You felt offended by how the Queen spoke about your father. He was grieving. He was allowed to spend time with whomever he wished, doing what he wanted.

Alicent lifted her arm, wrapping it around your petite frame, and led you inside Hightide. It was not as cold or formidable as Dragonstone; its dark magic melted into the walls, yet it didn’t hold the warmth of the Red Keep. Still, you felt unwelcomed here, either by the place or its people. The pale stone walls were filled with bits and pieces of shells from clams, mollusks, and other long-dead shell creatures mixed into the mortar to make it stand the test of salty air.

The Hall of the Nine, where you passed as Queen Alicent, led you to the guest chambers, where you held the Driftwood throne where your grandfather Corlys reigned. You recalled when you visited this place many years ago and how he went on about the many treasures from his sieges and conquests that decorated the room in all its glory. He and his wife, Rhaenys, sat in a heated discussion in front of the hearth.

Once you reached the door to your shared bed chambers with your brothers, Alicent turned to you. It was the first time you had seen her since what Aegon had done to you, and you felt tension. It seemed as if she wanted to speak, to say everything that had been bottled up since the revelation of her son’s transgressions, but she was unable to do so as tears choked her. Instead, the only words that came out were those she couldn’t say to her children.

“I hope you can find the time to visit the Keep. Helaena asked when you would be returning, and it broke my heart to tell her you wouldn’t be,” she confided, stroking the thin black fabric covering your dark hair. “Aemond has turned inwards since you left, and Aegon has become crueler to him. It makes me wonder if he’s always been this way and that my love for him has blinded me from his transgressions.”

You said nothing. The mention of Aegon’s name still felt like a blow to the stomach. “I hope you can find it within your heart to forgive my son for what he did to you and that we may yet be the family we were always meant to be.” Your tongue felt like lead as your breathing began to race, your chest rising and falling at a rapid pace as Alicent kneeled before you, a sad smile on her supple lips as she tenderly swiped your tear-stained cheeks with her smooth thumbs.

“I love you, my shining light, my dream.”

Leaning in, she took your small frame by your shoulders, kissing your forehead as one would do to their babe. You felt sick, nausea churning in your stomach as you quickly opened the bedroom door, hastily shutting it behind you in fright.

It was all too much—Lady Laena’s death, Ser Harwin’s, seeing your father in shambles, and Queen Alicent’s steadfast belief that you should become a part of her family no matter what happened to you. The Queen desired to wed you and Aegon despite the horrors he committed. The realization that she genuinely didn’t see what your eldest uncle did to you as something that would permanently bar you from joining the union pierced your heart. You would much rather marry Aemond or Helaena, but having no ties to her seemed better.

Your brothers peered at you curiously from their beds as you clutched your chest, looking as if you ran the entire way here. They didn’t ask any questions, and you didn’t move to speak, loosening the ties of your gown and shrugging it off until you were only in your smock. You didn’t feel like changing into your nightdress in front of your brothers, deciding to climb into bed and shove your face into the pillows, refusing to cry in front of Jace and Luke as you fell into a dreamless sleep.

When Aemond learned of Lady Laena’s death, he knew it was a sign from the Gods that his time had come. The Seven had deemed this the moment to prove himself to everyone who doubted him and thought him useless without a dragon.

Vhagar.

The largest, oldest, and strongest dragon in the world was riderless.

Aemond believed that once he gained the only thing he lacked, life would finally be what it should have been. He would make his father proud, shove all the taunts and jests from Aegon and his nephews back into their faces, and finally become a man you deemed worthy—your Mors Martell.

As Aemond fled from the wake when the candles had long melted, he thought only of the ichor coursing through his veins. Dusk was upon the island, and the night’s wind blew harshly, strands of his silver-blonde hair covering his face as he climbed over the dunes. Vhagar was further from the castle than he initially thought.

“Fuck.” Aemond released a sigh of exasperation and scrambled across the uneven ground.

When he came upon the dragon, he was in awe. Vhagar was as frightening as she was enormous—a giant, green-scaled, moving mountain that shook the ground and blew sand with every movement and breath from her powerful lungs.

Taking advantage of Vhagar’s resting state, Aemond crept along the sparse grass, feeling each gust of air she created with her wide nostrils, blowing the sand into his face and ears. Anxiety was present in his gut, feeling a slight tremble in his limbs as he closed the distance, wrapping his hand around one of the many ropes draped across Vhagar’s scales. Suddenly, he felt the ground underneath him quake, and the head of the dragon lifted with a low rumble.

Vhagar observed Aemond with tired yet calculating amber orbs, double eyelids blinking. She grumbled as she bore her teeth to him. They were the size of a fully grown adult, sending a shiver down his spine. As if it were an act of divine intervention, Vhagar laid her enormous head back down, seeming disinterested in the young boy before her.

If Lady Laena’s death wasn’t proof enough Aemond was fated by the Gods to claim a dragon, the most powerful beast in the world, laying its head in acquiescence certainly was. Blinded by his small victory, nerves still in his mind, he reached for the rope ladder again, only for Vhagar to raise her head and growl, low and deep. A snarl formed on her great maw as Aemond stumbled back in shock and saw the light of orange flames gather at the back of her throat.

“Dohaerās!” (Serve!) he shouted instinctively, recalling the many lessons he observed in the Dragonpit as he felt the heat of fire on his countenance. “Dohaerās, Vagus! Lykirī!” (Serve, Vhagar! Be calm!)

With Aemond’s commands, the she-dragon relaxed, recalling her flames and closing her mouth. She purred to him like a cat, a sign that she approved his merit while standing in the face of death. Vhagar would allow the Prince an attempt to claim her, but he must prove himself before the eyes of the Gods, before the eyes of a dragon.

Aemond took the ropes and climbed atop the mighty Vhagar’s back, positioning himself in the saddle and grabbing the reigns.

“Sōvēs!” (Fly!) Aemond ordered, and Vhagar rumbled, raising her legs and shaking the sand from her scales. “Sōvēs!”

She obeyed, taking a few giant steps and flapping her great wings, pushing off from the ground and leaving a sandstorm in her wake. Though Aemond told Vhagar to fly, he still had yet to control her as she took to the night sky in a near-vertical position, catching him unaware. The force knocked him from the leather saddle, leaving him dangling in the air with just the reigns for purchase. Aemond screamed with fear, feeling as if his stomach lurched out of his body as he struggled against the whipping wind to regain control.

She tested him as he grabbed the pommel, sat upright, and pulled the ropes to balance her. He felt like he was on a bucking horse, loosening, tightening, twisting, and turning to the left and right to steer her safely. Vhagar ignored Aemond’s movements and continued to fly like he wasn’t there, diving into the dunes of Driftmark before he reared her upwards, dragging her claws across the sand. He squealed in terror, blocking the debris that scratched his face as she soared over the sea.

Aemond knew he needed to prove himself to her, to show the war-hardened dragon that he deserved to ride her. Her chirps and groans from the day earlier called to him like nothing before, singing to the Prince in her dragon song of forlornness and isolation. Perhaps that was why he felt compelled to claim her. They both shared that feeling of loneliness deep within their souls, that same oddness in their families. The dragoness was too large to be held within any structure, leaving her in forced solitude, her only companions being her rider. Aemond was the only one, despite his Valyrian features, not to have a dragon.

That would no longer be his story.

Aemond fortified his mind and will, putting his soul into his movements as he lifted Vhagar higher in the sky. He could feel the blood of Old Valyria coursing through his veins as the mighty dragon obeyed, leveling out her vast wings and soaring over Spicetown and back to Driftmark. He screamed with fear and joy as she flew with him in the skies, a bright smile he was sure you could see in Lannisport.

Aemond had proven himself. He had shown himself and all who doubted and bullied him for not having a dragon that he was capable, that he was worthy.

Everything was as it should be.

Perhaps you would allow him to kiss you again and spend the night in his embrace. Aemond had no doubt you would be proud of him as he listened to your assurances that he was brave, a dragon knight who you could trust with your secrets and protect you from enemies, and that he deserved your heart.

Aemond landed Vhagar with a grace he hadn’t possessed before, climbing down the rope ladder on her side with windburnt cheeks. As soon as his feet touched the sand, he ran straight to the underground caverns of High Tide to wake you and explain everything.

“Jace!”

You faintly heard a voice calling, sounding distant in your dream state. Ignoring it with a groan, you rolled over, trying to return to sleep.

“Jace, wake up! Someone stole Vhagar!”

This woke you from your sleep. You sat up to see Baela and Rhaena hovering over your brother’s bed.

“We need to stop them!”

Jace and Luke quickly threw the covers off and stuck their feet into their slippers as you observed them curiously. Rubbing the sleep from your face, you yawned, begrudgingly following them.

“You cannot steal a dragon,” you countered after a long silence in the pale stone halls, your voice laced with sleep. It felt like you had hardly gotten a wink.

“She is my mother’s dragon! I was supposed to claim her,” Rhaena countered, tears collecting in her dark eyes.

Yawning again as you followed a few paces behind your siblings and cousins, you rolled your eyes, wanting to bite with the remark, “Why didn’t you?” But you didn’t say it. The reason was apparent why she didn’t, and Rhaena didn’t need any more reason to be distraught.

They led you to the caverns of High Tide, stumbling in your sleepless state. They led to the beaches lit only by dim torchlight, your movements groggy and slightly annoyed. On the other end of the tunnel, Aemond appeared before you with a proud grin and windswept hair. You couldn’t help but mirror his expression, a contagious self-satisfaction that spread to you.

He needn’t say it aloud. You could tell by how he carried himself, shoulders back, chin high, and a slight lift to his cheeks, that your uncle claimed a dragon—the mightiest one in the world, Vhagar.

“It’s him!” Rhaena exclaimed, pointing an accusing finger at Aemond.

It didn’t deter him, countering with his head high, violet eyes flicking from you to your cousin. “It’s me.”

“Vhagar is my mother’s dragon!” she yelled, hurt as if this reasoning would change Vhagar’s fate. As you moved to Aemond, Jace grabbed your hand, stopping you with an anxious yet demanding look on his face.

“Your mother is dead, and Vhagar has a new rider now,” your uncle replied, and you felt your brows raise in shock. You knew better than most of the cruelty he could commit, but after spending time with Aemond and seeing the softer, gentler, and kinder side of him, it took you off guard.

“She was mine to claim!” Rhaena argued, charging toward him in a challenge. Your skin began to itch, and your breath quickened.

The hatred felt at the funeral carried over into your brothers and cousins. Tension in the air crackled like a fire in a hearth, watching the yellow and orange flames slowly dwindle into embers until someone threw tinder to spark it.

“Then you should’ve claimed her! Maybe your cousins can find you a pig to ride,” Aemond sneered. “It would suit you.”

Your lips parted in empathetic offense as you looked from your uncle to Rhaena, tears of guilt and shame pricking at your eyes. You apologized about the pig, and you thought Aemond forgave you, but it seems he couldn’t let go of the hurt no matter how close you were. The feeling of joy for your uncle’s feat was as brief as your friendship.

With a surge of rage, Rhaena charged forward, attempting to push Aemond, but he swiftly countered, and she fell to the ground. You jumped back in shock as you covered your mouth, Luke standing beside you. Baela screamed, protecting her sister as she punched him across his face and Aemond yelped in pain. Without thinking, you went toward your uncle, fearful for his well-being in your heart, but he swiftly stood before you could reach him, returning the same swing to Baela. You gasped in horror and moved to the side, narrowly missing your cousin’s body from colliding with yours.

“Come at me again, and I’ll feed you to my dragon!” Aemond snarled at the twins, and without warning, Jace ran to him with a shout, shoving your uncle in offended anger and smacking him across the cheek.

You screamed for them to stop as you watched Luke try to join the fray, but you held him back, scared that he would get caught in the crossfire. He was the youngest and the littlest, most likely to get hurt. You needed to protect what family you could. Aemond brought this upon himself with his words of arrogance, but that didn’t stop you from wanting to defend him, too.

The scene before you was violent, a flurry of white, black, and red running atop Aemond as Luke slipped from your grasp, all pummeling, kicking, and screaming at him as you cried for them to stop. He was helpless as he suffered blow after blow, and you felt your heart splinter. This wasn’t a fair fight. Without worrying for yourself, you jumped on top of Jace, pulling him back from your uncle and giving him a chance to defend himself. You felt like a betrayer, turning against your twin to save your uncle. Your brother grunted as you both fell to the ground, his body on top of you as you struggled to keep him from fighting.

You and your siblings had fought before, but nothing like this. It was so vicious, filled with violence and want for pain, as Jace whipped his head back into yours, causing it to slam against one of the many jagged rocks across the ground, having you see stars. He went back into the brawl with no worry for your safety as you heard the unsheathing of a knife, your eyes blurry as you struggled to see the scene before you.

“You will die screaming in flames just as your father did!” Aemond yelled, suddenly holding Luke by his neck with a rock in his hand.

“My father is alive!” Luke gasped in protest, flinging his arms and blood running down his face.

You needed to get up to protect Luke from physical harm and the threat of discovering your lineage. You didn’t believe Aemond would kill Luke. He was capable of violence, but he wasn’t a murderer. As you tried to move, your skull felt filled with sand, pulling you back down to the ground as you felt the warm trickle of liquid run down your neck. You blinked rapidly, trying to clear your sight and mind.

Aemond spoke again to Jace, seeming to forget your existence and holding a sense of superiority. “He doesn’t know, does he, Lord Strong?”

You forgot how cruel Aemond could be. Your stolen moments of reading and kisses in the night had closed your eyes to it.

“Aemond, don’t,” you mumbled, skull pounding as the excruciating sounds of your brothers and uncle’s shouts pierced your ears like needles.

You blinked your eyes into focus, seeing Jace wildly swinging a knife at Aemond as you managed to kneel. Your brothers didn’t realize how dangerous what they were doing was, that a knife wasn’t something to use against someone who was armed with only a stone in hand. While Aemond was bigger and had more combat experience, a dagger would kill him. Being upset because someone claimed a dragon wasn’t worth murdering over.

Reaching your arm out with a soft grunt, you grabbed Jace’s ankle as Aemond pushed him over, holding the same rock above his head as he did for Luke. You thought Aemond knew better than this. You gave him the perfect opportunity to run and get help now that Baela and Rhaena huddled into a scared, crying mess, but he was too far gone into his anger to see reason, blinded by it.

“Aemond! No!” you shouted hoarsely, trying to stand but failing as your head pounded like a drumbeat.

He turned to you then, lowering the rock to his side as he stared at you with the sudden realization of what he had done. Your uncle was filled with a surge of superiority inside him. He couldn’t think straight, and when he happened upon the five of you, people he was always told that he was above, something inside him that lay dormant finally broke free. He knew he was always capable of violence, but felt remorse when he saw your bruised nose, tear-streaked cheeks, and blood dripping down your throat.

Did he do that to you?

Suddenly, Aemond was blinded, sand thrown into his eyes as he stumbled back and heard the yell of Luke, unimaginable pain soon following. You watched in horror as your brother savagely sliced into your uncle’s left eye, blood pouring and splattering across the ground.

Aemond couldn’t remember if you were amid his attackers. He surveyed the bruised and battered bodies before him and realized what he had done as his stomach fell to his feet.

He hurt people, just like Aegon. You would never entrust your secrets to him. His hands committed violence, but his heart desired to tell a different story—one of a strong and noble prince who went through many trials and tribulations to prove himself worthy of the princess's heart.

All you could hear were screams. Screams from you, screams from Aemond as you crawled towards him, sobbing.

“Aemond!” you cried as he doubled over, falling into your body as he screeched in pain.

“It hurts!” he wailed into your chest, his free hand clawing into your back. “It hurts! Help me!”

You trembled, arms struggling to keep yourself upright against his weight as the flurry of guards rumbled inside your skull like thunder. Unable to make out their words as they moved, it seemed like you were watching the world from outside your body, from the lenses of another, as Ser Harrold pried Aemond from your embrace.

It hurt. Everything hurt—your heart, stomach, muscles, and head. You weren’t sure who led you, Baela, Rhaena, Luke, and Jace to the Hall of the Nine as a flurry of people gathered, pushing and shoving as you clutched your skull. The room was so bright, so loud, as you heard your uncle’s screams. You felt sturdy arms grab you by your shoulders, roughly moving you as if you were nothing more than a doll, as it felt like your eyes were about to burst. Steel blue fabric blocked your eyes as you saw the hazy image of a seahorse stitched into the fabric.

“Father?” You reached out, small digits feeling along the fine silk until the texture of scruff scratched at your skin. Blinking, you saw the aged face of your grandfather, Lord Corlys, as he gathered you and your brothers behind him.

Where was he, and where was your mother?

You felt sick as people scattered around you like seagulls when they discovered a bloated whale carcass, all trying to see the injured Prince, who cried until the Maester poured Milk of the Poppy down his throat. It felt like when you accidentally drank the water from Blackwater Bay, like a cold, nauseous sensation that sent beads of sweat rolling down your spine.

“I don’t feel good,” you whispered to Jace as you leaned into his side, clutching your head and gut. He paid you no mind, peering behind your grandfather to see your other one appear, bearing total weight upon his dragon-head cane.

“How could you let such a thing happen?” Viserys questioned Ser Harrold, examining Aemond as you heard the sickening squelch of flesh and rattle of metal tools. “I will have answers!”

Despite it undoubtedly being a harrowing sight, you wanted to be by your uncle, to hold his hand through it, to feel his pain with him, but you couldn’t. You needed to be with your brothers. What they saw and experienced would haunt them for the rest of their lives. Luke had taken Aemond’s eye.

“The princess and princes were supposed to be abed, my king,” the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard explained, shame woven in his words.

Viserys wouldn’t allow his knights to show such carelessness, surveying each of them with critical eyes. “Who had the watch?”

“The young prince was attacked by his cousins, your grace,” Ser Cristion nonchalantly replied. His words angered you for reasons unknown, and you felt a lump rise in your throat.

Viserys turned to the room, looking between the two Kingsguards on opposite sides of the family as he hobbled on his cane. “You swore oaths to protect and defend my blood!” he boomed in a way you hadn’t seen before. You were afraid he would direct his anger at you, Jace, and Luke, wrapping your arms around them like you were in any state to protect your brothers.

“I’m very sorry, your grace,” Ser Westerling said, head hung low in unimaginable disgrace. You felt bad for him. There was no way he could have stopped this. He was doing his duty and serving his King. It was Ser Criston who should be blamed.

“The Kingsguard has never had to defend princes from princes before, your grace-”

“That is no answer!” your grandfather yelled at Ser Criston, causing a clap of pain to thunder inside your skull.

You wanted to go to bed, sleep for eternity, and be awake to everything as it was yesterday. Your brothers and cousins unbloodied and Aemond dragonless and with an eye.

“Where’s mother?” you noiselessly questioned Jace, leaning into his ear and almost losing your footing. You needed to stay strong for them.

“It will heal, will it not? Maester?” Queen Alicent asked, velveteen voice quivering with pain for her poor son. Maester Kelvyn finished stitching Aemond’s skin, throwing the needle and thread into a bowl with your uncle’s fleshy, viscous eye.

“The flesh will heal. The eye is lost, your grace,” his nasal voice replied matter-of-factly.

You were going to be ill.

Quickly, you ran through the multitude of people, pushing past Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys, who tried to stop you before you vomited all the contents of your stomach onto a person’s unsuspecting shoes. The crowd gasped in revolt, those not close to you jumping back and clutching their chests in shock. You found yourself before the fireplace, basking in its comforting warmth as you leaned onto the hearth and looked at the unlucky soul you retched on.

Perhaps the Gods had a twisted sense of justice as you saw the disgusted face of Aegon before you. You didn’t hide your amused smirk.

“Tend to the Princess!” the King shouted to the Maester, seeming to forget about his injured son and throwing his cane in your direction.

A flurry of green came before pale gray, tenderly cradling your visage in her palms as if you were her child, inspecting it. You grabbed the Queen’s wrists and attempted to push her away as if her touch burned, but she resisted, struggling against your childish strength until she grabbed your shoulders. Her touch reminded you of Aegon as you burst into tears, muscles going limp and at Queen Alicent’s mercy. She turned your head in her grasp, examining you with the utmost care that made another wave of nausea through you.

The crowd observed in anxious silence as Aemond turned to watch his mother treat you with the affection he wished to receive. Familiar hatred bloomed inside his heart, swallowing his dry mouth as he thought resentfully. He would still have his eye if he hadn’t been so concerned with you.

“I want my mother.” you whimpered, lips quivering in fear as the Queen lovingly wiped the blood from your neck.

The Queen released you from her grip as if you had struck her, chest heaving and wide brown eyes watering as she turned to her eldest son. Your mother was here; you didn’t realize it.

“Where were you?” she interrogated Aegon, smacking him upside down before he could answer.

“Ow! What was that for?” he questioned, incredulously rubbing at the afflicted area grimly. You held no sympathy for him as you hugged your sides.

“That was nothing compared to the abuse your siblings suffered while you were drowning in your cups, you fool!” she whispered heatedly so only he could hear, shaking his gangly body in rage. You looked at the Queen with confusion, thinking she had gone mad with grief when she said “siblings.”

As the grand Hall doors creaked open, a shaft of golden light spilled into the room, casting long shadows on the marble floor. With an air of elegance, your mother swept into the room, her silk gown trailing behind her. Following closely was Uncle Daemon, his formidable presence filling the space. Amidst the whispers and murmurs, your name and that of your brothers floated through the air, drawing your attention. Without a second thought, you moved toward her, the sensation of fingertips brushing your bicep as if a ghostly hand had tried to hold you back, sending shivers down your spine.

“Show me, show me!” your mother ordered you and Luke, softly running her digits across your body as you sobbed with relief. “Who did this?”

“They attacked me!” Aemond yelled before you could get a word out, leaning from behind his chair.

You saw his wound on full display. An ugly crisscrossed row of stitches lined up his eye socket and onto his forehead, the flesh puckered and pink as it fought the infection. Your mother moved your face before you could stare any longer as a chorus of accusations from your brothers and cousins sang. You couldn’t get the image of his gash out of your head.

“He was going to kill Jace! I didn’t do anything!” Luke loudly shouted as you scrunched your eyes with a painful wince.

“Enough!” you heard your grandfather yell, and you looked at him with helpless, watery eyes, but no one listened.

“It should be my son telling the tale!” the Queen protested, fist pounding against her chest with conviction over the voices.

You continued to look at your grandfather in anguish, the King of The Seven Kingdoms, whom everyone ignored except you. “Silence!” he yelled, voice rattling inside his hollow chest as flem flew from his decaying mouth.

The Hall went silent, quieter than the Stranger himself, as everyone looked at one another, stunned at the turn of events. People came here to mourn the loss of a daughter, an aunt, a niece, a wife, and a sister. Viserys looked at you and then at his son, his ivory staff sounding with every movement as you swallowed, the taste of bile strong.

“He called us bastards.” you silently whispered to your mother, wiping the tears and snot from your face.

“Aemond, I will have the truth of what happened.” The King approached your uncle as he slumped into the armchair, stepping swiftly and with a newfound curiosity. “Now.”

“What else is there to hear?” Alicent questioned, clutching at her neck as tears threatened to spill. “Your son has been maimed, and her son is responsible.”

“Twas a regrettable accident,” your mother countered, moving her body to shadow the three of you from the onlookers.

“Accident?” the Queen repeated, astonished. “The Prince Lucerys brought a blade to the ambush! He meant to kill my son!”

You realized the truth didn’t matter now. All that did was what people perceived it to be.

“Twas my children who were attacked and forced to defend themselves!” your mother argued as she placed a comforting hand onto Luke’s shoulders. “Vile insults were levied against them!”

Your grandfather turned from his son to the four of you as you inhaled a shuddering breath. “What insults?” he questioned, a dangerous lilt to his tone that you had never heard before as the Hall went silent. It raised the hairs on your arms.

“The legitimacy of my children’s birth was put loudly to question,” your mother replied, her chin high yet holding a nervous waver to her voice.

As she turned towards you, your mother’s eyes conveyed a silent but insistent demand to verbalize what you previously whispered. She wished everyone to hear these words from you—the compassionate and considerate eldest daughter known as The Gods’ Light among the common folk. With tears streaming down your cheeks and your chest heaving with emotion, you gazed at Aemond with a sense of guilt. You knew the words you were about to utter would carry an extraordinary weight. Both sides sought someone to bear responsibility for the turmoil, but you recognized the unspoken truth.

At that moment, honesty seemed inconsequential. Aemond had suffered the loss of his eye due to Luke’s actions, and you keenly felt your failure to shield your brothers from harm. You would never fault at your duty again.

“He called us bastards,” you confessed, lacking the anger and conviction of your siblings as you sniffled, refusing to look at Aemond.

You watched as the Queen’s auburn tresses bounced with the slight affirming nod of her head, a look of disbelief and recognition crossing her face. At that moment, it became clear that she had informed Aemond about the deception, hardening your heart with betrayal. You had believed that she was different and loved you like family, and it stung to realize that she didn’t hesitate to spread lies that would hurt you.

“My children are to inherit the Iron Throne, your grace. This is the highest of treasons,” your mother reasoned, stepping forward to her slouched father as you attempted to reach for her hand to keep you hidden. “Prince Aemond must be sharply questioned so we might learn where he heard such awful slanders.”

As you gazed at your mother, her expression eerily mirroring that of Alicent’s, your lips began to quiver with unease. Was your mother implying that he should be subjected to torture? It seemed unfathomable. She couldn’t possibly be serious.

“Over an insult?” the Queen asked, shaking her head in disbelief. You knew she was trying to protect herself as you glared at the woman you once thought held the moon. “My son has lost an eye!”

“Tell me, boy. Where did you hear such lies?” the King seethed, face a hairsbreadth from Aemond as you whimpered.

“The insult was training yard bluster,” Alicent swiftly reasoned, eyes flicking desperately from her son to her husband. “The lot of boys. ‘Twas nothing-”

“Aemond,” your grandfather interrupted, ignoring his wife’s explanation. “I asked you a question.”

Your uncle sat in solemn silence, his lone violet eye unwaveringly fixed on the ground while his father awaited his reply. Before he could utter a word, the Queen unexpectedly interjected.

“Where is Ser Laenor, the children’s father? Perhaps he would have something to say on the matter,” she jeered.

Your grandfather turned, sparse brows scrunching together as he turned to Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys. “Yes. Where is Ser Laenor?”

“I do not know, your grace. I… could not find sleep and decided to take a walk,” your mother answered for them, smooth palms wiping across her crimson skirt.

The Queen let out a derisive laugh, her disbelief evident as she shook her head at her old friend. It was impossible to ignore the precise timing of Daemon’s arrival into the Hall of the Nine, trailing just moments behind Rhaenyra with her tousled strands of golden hair. Alicent bore the knowledge of her friend’s calculated machinations, even as Rhaenyra’s children stealthily slipped out of their beds to perpetrate the heinous act of maiming her son. She couldn’t dismiss the nagging suspicion that Ser Laenor was likely engaged in equally treacherous activities.

“Entertaining his young squires, I presume,” Queen Alicent sneered like before, making you feel the same deep-seated ire.

As no one dared to voice their opposition to her words, a glint of silver caught your eye from the corner, revealing Ser Criston Cole’s silent laughter. Like Ser Harwin, you felt the urge to wipe that smug grin off his tanned face, even though you knew it was impossible.

“Aemond, look at me. Your King demands an answer,” your grandfather began, staggering before your uncle. “Who spoke the lies to you?”

Everything went silent; the roaring of the fire and the crashing of the waves in the darkness were all that could be heard in the Hall. You understood that whoever Aemond implicated might not live til the next morn. You felt your throat grow tight and struggled to breathe, clutching at your throat as you swallowed the acrid taste in your mouth. Queen Alicent told him as you recalled the time in Helaena’s room. It confused you at first why she would spread such gossip as she seemed to hold a tenderness for you. Claiming your brothers were bastards went without saying you were, but you realized that whatever contempt she had within her heart weighed far more significant than any affection for you.

Some of you wished to shout that it was her, but you realized that was something Alicent would do without a second thought if the roles were reversed, and you did not want to be like her. She was wicked and cruel, just like her eldest.

“It was Aegon. He told Aemond to call us that,” you answered as every pair of eyes flocked to you. You didn’t like how close your grandfather was to him, afraid that he might strike him for the consequences of his mother. You felt your heart lurch into your throat as you gained the courage to speak the words aloud of all the bad things he did to you. “And he… he”

Before you could finish, your mother tucked you into her waist, kneeling and pushing your face into her shoulder. You tried to pull away from her when his hand rested on your head, the welt sensitive to touch.

“Don’t,” she whispered into your hair, disguising it as a kiss. They deserved to know. Everyone needed to know what awful Aegon did to you. You wanted to move against her, but your mind was foggy and muscles weak.

“Me?” Aegon exclaimed with shock, wide amethyst orbs looking at you with a broken expression.

“And you, boy,” your grandfather crept towards him, the rhythmic tapping of his cane piercing your skull like an ice pick. “Where did you hear such calumnies?” Your uncle refused to answer him as his gaze bore holes into your being. There was no remorse in your heart for him. “Aegon, tell me the truth of it!” Viserys shouted, causing you to flinch and cover your ears.

“We know, father,” Aegon replied fearlessly, refusing to remove his stare from your quivering form. “Everyone knows. Just look at them.”

Feeling the stares from the guests, you admired your uncle for not implicating his mother like a coward, removing your body from your mother, wiping the snot from your lip. Let them look, you thought, inhaling a deep breath as you felt your mother bring you closer. They would stare at you for the rest of your days. It was best if you grew accustomed to it now.

“This interminable infighting must cease!” the King declared, banging his walking stick off the pale stone floor. “All of you! We are family! Now, make your apologies and show goodwill to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your King demands it.”

You grimaced at his words, and though you loved your grandfather, having been his favorite granddaughter, you disagreed with him. You refused to apologize for your family trying to defend themselves, and the Queen couldn’t help but agree more.

“That is insufficient,” Alicent said, gesturing to her son. “Aemond has been damaged permanently, my King. Goodwill cannot make him whole.”

Aemond’s fingers dug into the wooden framing of the armchair, and your chin quivered at the thought of what he might be feeling.

“I know, Alicent,” Viserys sighed, “but I cannot restore his eye.”

“No, because it’s been taken,” she sobbed, clutching at her chest, flicking her hair back in a manner that reminded you of Aegon. “There is a debt to be paid. I shall have the hand of her eldest to one of my sons. To mend the rift and unite the House of the Dragon once more.”

“Alicent,” your grandfather breathed in a warning, yet still turned to his daughter, having a hint of hope in his violet eyes.

You looked at your mother, shock overcoming any sadness you felt as she shoved you behind her skirts like a hen would do to her chick, too stunned to speak. “I refuse.”

The Queen shook her head, a sneer curling her plump lips and wet cheeks. Rhaenyra was a selfish, wicked woman with no inclination of decency. Why couldn’t she see this would be solved if she returned Alicent’s rightful daughter to her? The Queen steeled herself to the belief that she would have to fight for her right to have you. She knew deep in her bones that you would one day be by her side.

“Then I shall have one of her sons’ eyes in return. The Princess is innocent,” the Queen declared with a desperate wave of tears.

Aemond looked to his mother, face impassive, and senses dulled from Milk of the Poppy. He didn’t recall telling her about what you did for him, though it was very little. It felt like he was becoming a second thought to his mother, who seemed only to be scheming on how to insert his niece into their lives. Aemond realized then that he would always be second in his mother’s heart to you, and he felt hollow at the thought, the love that once filled it for his niece ceasing to exist.

“Do not allow your temper to guide your judgment,” your grandfather warned Queen Alicent. She said nothing as her chest heaved, brown orbs flicking between her husband and old friend.

Believing the matter finished, the King backed away, but Alicent wouldn’t allow this to be the end. She looked to her sworn protector, an apathetic expression on her visage.

“If the King will not seek justice, the Queen will. Ser Criston, bring me the eye of Lucerys Velaryon.” Ser Criston looked to the Queen with a startled expression as Luke cried for your mother. “He can choose which eye to keep, a privilege he did not grant my son.”

“You will do no such thing,” your mother steadfastly declared, ensuring the three of you were behind her.

“Stay your hand,” the King commanded as the Queen shook with rage, desperately looking between her husband and sworn protector. She reminded you of a deer cornered in a vast forest, listening to the distant howls of wolves closing in for the hunt.

“No, you are sworn to me!” she yelled, finger pointing to her chest indignantly. All waited for the knight to respond, the Lord Commander slowly bringing his hand to the hilt of his sword.

“Protect your brother,” your mother whispered, never straying her eyes from the Queen. Without further instruction, you stood before Luke, gradually backing him away from the group of people unnoticed. You understood Alicent would not hurt you, as did your mother.

“As your protector, my Queen,” Ser Criston replied with a wary head tilt.

“Alicent, this matter is finished. Do you understand?” your grandfather declared, seething, his face centimeters away from his wife before he addressed the room. “And let it be known that if anyone’s tongue dares to question, the birth of Rhaenyra’s children should have it removed.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, you let go of Luke, coming to take your place beside your mother as she thanked the King. The unsheathing of a blade cut through the room as the form of Queen Alicent charged toward your family, startling you, the King’s ancestral dagger in her grasp. Luke screamed as she reached the four of you, but your mother stepped in her path before Alicent could enact her rage.

Suddenly, a person shoved into you, disregarding your existence as you found yourself on the floor. You noticed how the stone seemed to ebb and wave like the flow of the tide. Lord Corlys appeared beside you, lifting you into his arms, securely bound around your torso as he took you into the circle of your cousins and brothers, your mother struggling against the Queen.

“You’ve gone too far!” your mother admonished the Queen as tears burned her eyes. She pushed against Alicent, and she jerked against her, trying to get to your brother.

“I?” Queen Alicent exclaimed, voice thick with anguish as you attempted to push out of your grandfather’s arms, kicking your legs into his side. “What have I done, but what was expected of me? Forever upholding the kingdom, the family, and the law while you flout to do as you please?”

“Alicent, let her go!”

The Queen still poised the dagger to strike, its new path being that of the heir to the Iron Throne as your mother looked helplessly to the onlookers. No one made to separate the two as they all stared in shock, the fire illuminating their faces like wraiths of death. Landing a hard smack to Lord Corlys’s neck, he dropped you as you shoved through the onlookers toward your mother. She put her life for yours and your brothers, but who would put hers before theirs?

“Where is duty? Where is sacrifice? My happiness and dreams? It’s templed under your pretty foot again!” the Queen sobbed, her form trembling with hurt and rage, everything that she bottled inside her for years.

“Release the blade, Alicent,” Lord Otto commanded, a man you hadn’t met until this morn, but she paid him no mind, adrenaline coursing through her veins as she pushed against her old friend.

“Wasn’t taking her, my only light, enough for you? And now you take my son’s eye, and to that, you feel entitled,” she confessed, tears making the Queen’s mouth thick with wetness as you shouldered your way to the inner circle of people.

“Exhausting, wasn’t it? Hiding beneath the cloak of your own righteousness,” your mother interrogated, a bitter grimace on her sharp lips. “But now they see you as you are.”

Alicent stared at your mother with an enraged offense that wrinkled her brows as she felt fire surge through her, and with a loud cry, she unthinkingly swung your family’s ancestral dagger. You screamed, running to your mother as you pulled her back, seeing a gash on her inner arm that gushed with blood.

“Mama,” you wept, tenderly holding her limb as if it would break.

Dropping the dagger, Alicent took an instinctual step toward you, a blanched, horror-stricken expression across her round face. She longed to go to you, to dry your tears and stroke your head against her bosom like your true mother would, but she could not. The terror and fear in your wide brown eyes that resembled her own sliced through her chest and laid her heart and soul bare as she felt a small hand slide into hers. The Queen hoped to see you standing beside her and thought herself mad before she securely took her son’s fist.

Much like you, Aemond knew his parent needed him. “Do not mourn me, mother. ‘Twas a fair exchange,” he expressed with a maturity beyond his years. He turned to you, a violet gaze once filled with joy now devoid, hollow, and one less eye. “I may have lost an eye but gained a dragon.”

You wished Aemond hadn’t claimed one this way and felt a hiccup wrack your lungs as you cried into your mother, Jace, and Luke coming beside you. You sadly realized this was the end of the fleeting companionship you cultivated with your uncle. All the stolen moments of reading, ideas, philosophies, and aspirations you shared under the cover of privacy were nothing more than air the moment he ran across the dunes. You would have still cared for him without a dragon, as before, but his pride wouldn’t allow it, and now he stared at you with an eye that you knew far too well.

Aemond hated you. He loathed you and your brothers with a fire that would never cease. This was your fault. He lost an eye because of you—because he cared about his bastard niece and had the foolish dream of becoming the man you loved. You did not deserve it. You were nothing more than a common girl born from sin, undeserving of your station. He would despise you for the rest of his days no matter how his heart screamed to have you by his side when darkness fell and all that was left was the ghost of your touch.

Masterlist of Series

Spotify Playlist

Happiness never lasts in ASOIAF. I'm going to miss writing for baby Aemond and reader. They were so cute! From now on it's going to be messed up young adults with severe mommy uses and mental illness. I'm not going to say who has which XD. Thank y'all so much for reading and I hope to see y'all in the next chapter!

Tagged Peeps: @millies0bsimp, @britt-mf, @marvelescvpe, @haikyuusboringassmanager, @discofairysworld, @lottiemsgf , @nessjo , @fiction-fanfic-reader , @qvnthesia , @hotvillianapologist , @p45510n4f4shi0n, @theendlessvoidofdarkest , @readerselegance , @gothamgurl2024 , @aleemendoza2425-blog , @vaylint

169 notes · View notes

delewlew · 1 month

Text

i'll kick your ass, verstappen: max verstappen x black fem! reader

request: HEYYYYYYY could you do a max x fem reader when he gets jealous really bad over one of your male friends please. Love your stories keep going 🤍🤍

warnings: jealousy, slight swearing, google translated dutch

author's note: i hope you like this, i lowkey fried my brain trying to make sure i was confident enough to post this...still trying to convince myself. also the title isn't as cute cuz my gradient thingie wasn't working so it'll be plain...sorry bout that. as always, reblogs and comments are always appreciated as well <3

you were in second grade when you met your best friend, nikolaas, after he moved to your school. you were assigned to be his class buddy to help him get comfortable at the new school. the two of you attended the same school all the up to university so you weren't ever really apart from one another. the two of you learned to swim and ride bikes together as little kids. he was there when you went on your first date with the cute guy in your calculus class at the ice rink near your home, and he was there to take you to the hospital when you broke your ankle right after. you were there to help him learn to slow dance before he went to his first formal dance with a girl that wasn't you. he was there to teach you how to walk in that pair of So Kate's you bought without realizing maybe there was a reason nobody but zendaya dared to wear those godforsaken heels. you were there to coach him through confessing his feelings to his first boyfriend. the two of you had experienced so much of your lives beside one another that your relationship wasn't shaken when it was time to move away from home. years passed and he was a professional model travelling the world while you were working as an architect, living in monaco.

since living in monaco you'd been promoted, moved to a nicer apartment, completed a huge project with your team, and met your boyfriend. you met max at an event you'd been invited to courtesy of your own personal connections. from the moment he laid eyes on you, he knew you there was something different about you from other women he's met in the past. that night, you both exchanged numbers and he'd convinced you to go on a date with him shortly after.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

for the first time since you'd moved to monaco, your best friend had finally been able to take time to come visit you. he'd flown in two days ago and was staying at your apartment for a bit longer before flying out to korea for some event he was invited to. you sat on your bed and he sat across from you painting a fresh coat of nail polish over his nails since the ocean water chipped it off earlier today. his hand shook slightly as he painted his fingers and your voice cut through the silence, "nikko i swear to god if you get black nail polish on my bed i'll kill you." he looked up through his long, thick, black eyelashes and muttered, "je bent letterlijk de meest dramatische persoon die ik ooit heb ontmoet." you rolled your eyes and huffed, "whatever you love me and you know it." he cracked a smile through the focused glare he held while looking at his fingers, "yeah yeah...speaking of love, how's your man?" [you're literally the most dramatic person i've ever met]

you smiled at the thought of max and answered, "he's really good. the season has treated him well for the most part and he's happy with how things are. we're going back home for his next race so i'm excited i'll be able to see both of our families, and i'm gonna try to stop by your place to see your mom if she's there." he shook his head while keeping his eyes on his nails, "m'ma is in suriname until september because she's visiting granm'ma and granp'pa." your frowned and asked, "were you supposed to go home with her?" nikko nodded and shrugged, "it's alright though, i think i'll be able to make it down there for christmas so it's fine. plus you can see her in september when she comes back." a smile tugged on his lips and he continued, "that is if you want to come see me walk at new york, paris, milan, or london fashion week this year." you nearly tackled him into a hug and screeched, "NO FUCKING WAY- NIKKO?! YOU BOOKED ALL FOUR?!" he laughed and wrapped his arm around you in a hug, "yup i'm booked and busy this year!"

you immediately promised, "i'm going to be at every single show." your best friend nodded, "already reserved your tickets for everything." there was a beat of silence before he asked, "wait isn't max still racing in september- i don't want to make you miss those especially because you missed miami for the met gala with me." this was true, you'd flown to new york city to be nikko's plus one for the met gala but max told you he didn't mind and was happy you were going. without a second thought, only thinking of how exciting this was for your best friend, you waved off his worry, "it'll be fine. besides max likes you."

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

"i don't fucking like this guy." max huffed as he scrolled though his instagram because you posted something. he looked at his screen and clenched his jaw seeing the post you'd made with your best friend.

therealyn

liked by nikko, maxverstappen1, and 643,943 others

therealyn baby's first time in monaco <3

read all 5,423 comments

nikko i wish i could stay longer :(

⤷ therealyn don't forget me when ur famous

sza cuties

⤷ therealyn omg i love you

username1 why is he so close?

⤷ username2 they've been friends since they were 7 and nikko moved to the netherlands from suriname. y/n was his first friend and they've grown up together. don't try to start something out of nothing.

⤷ username3 GET EM SIS

⤷ username4 ngl i kinda see what username1 means...if you look back at some other posts they've made with each other they're way closer than i'd consider to be best friends. i mean i personally wouldn't be that close with my guy bsf knowing i have a man.

⤷ username4 that man is a walking pride flag be so fr rn

⤷ username1 im just saying he's a little close to her. plus she's already missed a race so she can go see him, and i guarantee you she'll do the same again when fashion week comes around.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

reading the comments didn't ease max's mind whatsoever but he did catch a few that did make him realize that maybe you were just being a supportive best friend. he'd had friends go to things to support him in the past and he's done the same for them so why does he feel so...weird when you do the same? he'd managed brush off the feelings he had until he checked your story and clicked on the post you'd shared:

nikko

liked by therealyn, gucci, and 1,235,099 others

nikko but none of them will ever love you the way i do it's me and you

view all 10,302 comments

therealyn and as the years go by our friendship will never die

kendalljenner beauties

username6 ...why is he holding her like that.

⤷ username7 i think they're together? i always saw their posts together and assumed

⤷ username8 NO THEY'RE NOT TOGETHER THEY'RE BEST FRIENDS PLS DON'T START RUMORS SHE IS DATING MAX VERSTAPPEN

username9 this look a little....

username10 yall are so weird. literally every interaction nikko has with a girl looks like this, look it up and you'll see he's holding everyone's hand, wrapping their arms around them. it's just how he is pipe down.

username11 THE CAPTION? NIKOLAAS UR BOLD FOR THAT ONE

username12 ngl i kinda wanna see them as a couple

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

max fought to control his facial expressions when you called him excited to tell him about going to support nikko at the big 4 fashion weeks. he watched as your eyes sparkled, "he's already reserved the seat in my name at all of his shows too! this is so great he's always wanted to walk in these shows and now he's got the chance. i want september to already be here." max frowned at the mention of the month, "schat- i'm still racing in september though?" you explained, "well yeah it's just singapore and azerbaijan that i'll have to miss but i'll be at the rest." max bit the inside of his cheek, "didn't you already see him walk in new york back in may? you missed miami for it remember?" you smiled, "babe that was the met gala, that was different. this is actual fashion shows not a red carpet."

when max was still silent you asked, "why don't you seem happy doe nikko?" he took a small exhale to not raise his voice or seem too annoyed, "it's good for the guy i mean this is a big deal as a model. i just...sometimes i think he's just a little too close?" you frowned and you asked, "what do you mean? you've never had a problem with him before?" max sighed and admitted, "i'm just saying there's no reason why other people should be questioning our relationship status when you're with other people. why is he holding you like i hold you?" you couldn't even find the right words for a moment, "i- i- he....max you've seen the way he acts around everyone. he's a touchy guy and he always has been. why are you now bothered that he holds me? it's nothing new."

max let out another annoyed huff and snapped, "just tell him to watch himself." you couldn't even say anything before he hung up the phone on you and left you stunned to a silence. just then your phone pinged and it was another instagram notification:

nikko just posted a story!

there wasn't even a point in trying to ask nikolaas to delete the story because he was on a flight to korea right now which means he just posted it before the plane took off. so all you had to do was hope maybe max wouldn't see it because although you had no issue with the photo, you knew right now your boyfriend would.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the instagram story made it's way to his eyes in less than 5 minutes after it was posted. so, max didn't hesitate to open his own photo gallery and select a few pictures before posting them himself, he pasted a caption from the ones you'd saved in his notes and posted it before turning off his phone.

maxverstappen1

liked by charles_leclerc, f1wags, and 649,779 others

maxverstappen1 mijn

view all 3,402 comments

therealyn answer your phone

username13 HE'S MAD HE SEEN THE POSTS

username14 max....

charles_leclerc mate, you posted on your main

⤷ maxverstappen1 i know.

⤷ charlesleclerc oh!

oscarpiastri i feel like i wasn't supposed to see some of these

⤷alex_albon i don't think any of us were...

⤷ therealyn you werent.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

hot tears stung the corners of your eyes as you stared at your phone knowing full well why max posted the photos he did. you knew that he got jealous every now and again but he'd never done anything like this, especially when it came to nikolaas because he knew how close he was to you. max wasn't answering your phone calls or text messages so you had no way to actually call him.

meanwhile max was in his apartment on his sim when he heard a knock at his door. when he opened it he saw lando standing on his doorstep before he pushed his way into his apartment. max asked, "why are you in my apartment?" lando shook his head and countered, "why are you posting shit like this online?" a smug grin tugged at max's lips and he answered, "you know why."

lando sat on max's couch and responded, "i don't know why. what i do know is your girlfriend called me crying asking me why you weren't answering her calls." max huffed, "she's busy playing with that guy." lando ran a hand through his curls, "you're jealous of her best fucking friend? are you being serious right now?" max rolled his eyes and lando continued, "the guy wears nail polish and face glitter and you think something is going on between them?" when there was silence lando continued, "mate he literally flirted with charles and asked for his number when he came to zandvoort last year. then told alex that she had good taste because he wanted to quote 'drink him up and sop up the rest with a biscuit. and you think there's any way that something is happening with y/n? you can be jealous but if your girlfriend says there's no reason to worry then you should trust her. you need to fix this before something actually happens that can't be fixed." lando slapped max on the shoulder before walking out the door and heading back to his apartment.

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

it was nearly 3 am when max unlocked the front door to your apartment and slipped in quietly, kicking off his shoes and leaving them by your front door. he pulled back the door and grabbed one of his t shirts and took off his pants before climbing in your bed. he pulled you closer to him and wrapped his arm around your torso. when you moved his arm off of you he knew you were awake so he mumbled, "schat..." you answered plainly, "wat wil je, max?" your boyfriend pressed a kiss to your shoulder and responded, "i'm sorry. i was wrong and i was immature and posting those pictures knowing you had them in our private folder was wrong." there was a momentary silence before you asked, "waarom heb je het dan gedaan?" he let out a deep sigh as he admitted, "i was jealous and only thinking about myself in the moment instead of thinking about how my actions would affect you as well. i never want to hurt you or be the reason for your pain, but i was so i'm sorry." [what do you want, max? // then, why did you do it?]

you felt his hand run over your arm gently as you asked, "wat ga je doen om het te repareren?" max answered, "well i deleted the post first and came here to apologize second. also i'd love to see you go to london, paris, new york, and milan to support nikko in september. i'll be waiting at home for you the minute you get back." you turned to face him and opened your eyes, finding his gaze in the darkness. bringing your hand to his cheek you asked, "i never want you to think that anyone stands a chance at competing with you for my heart, maxie. you are my person and i only love you this way, i only want to be with you. there's only you in my heart and i need you to trust me when i say that, okay?" max leaned into your touch and nodded, before you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, "i love you." he pulled you to his chest and tangled his legs with yours as he replied, "ik houd ook van jou." you nuzzled closer to him and brought a hand to his chest, tracing small patterns over his heart. both of you began to drift off to sleep, your voice cut through the silence, "but do that shit again and i'm kicking your ass, verstappen." max let out a small chuckle and admitted, "i don't doubt that, but you don't have to worry about it happening again." [what are you going to do to fix it?//i love you too.]

༘˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

the end.

185 notes · View notes

at0michips · 2 months

Text

interviews and intimacy — mike faist

summary: the press tour of challengers was coming to an end, and even though Mike liked promoting his new movie all around the world, he was tired and even annoyed of the same old questions, so it did surprise him when a younger woman changed the pattern.

author note: just wanted to say that this is based off my deepest thoughts and hallucinations that this is going to happen to me someday and I just really needed to elaborate it further than in my brain. I have a lot more like this to work on so maybe it becomes a sort of series, who knows!! feel free to request

It was a full day, Mike has been patient and tried to be as social as possible with the press but he couldn't help the bad mood that came with those clueless questions that could totally put him and his coworkers in an uncomfortable situation, especially with both of them openly having a significant other. So when he heard that this would be the last interview of the press he felt relieved, he could go straight back into his house in New York, spend some days in there and go back to Ohio so he could see his family for a bit and then see what was his next step.

Everything seemed like it was going to work out nicely, and then it didn't looked like it anymore. After the new interview crew arrived he could hear some whispering between them.

"W-why does it have to be me?" one of the girls said a little loud only to be shushed by an older woman who was attaching a mic in her clothing

"Because you have a degree, because you have been helping Rose write the last interviews questions, because you're good!" she answered "Calm down, they're just people, ok? I spoke to her on the phone and she promised to pay you dinner next friday, keep that in mind." and then it hit him, that a girl who looked barely out of college was about to lead this interview.

The studio buzzed with the controlled chaos of a film set winding down for the day. Mike Faist sat across from you, a young journalist who had been unexpectedly thrust into the role of interviewer. Initially skeptical of her ability to handle the job, Mike found himself pleasantly surprised as the interview progressed.

"You know, for someone who's filling in last minute, you're doing pretty damn well," Mike remarked, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You felt your shoulders relax a fraction, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. "Thank you. I'm glad I could hold my own."

Mike nodded thoughtfully, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "More than holding your own, actually. You're asking some really insightful questions."

You couldn't help but smile back, a mixture of relief and pride washing over her. "I've been a writer for a while, just not usually about movies."

"Well, maybe you've found a new calling," he teased lightly, his gaze lingering on her face. "You've definitely got a knack for it."

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at his compliment. "I think I'll stick to writing," you replied, matching his playful tone. "But who knows? Maybe I'll make an exception."

Mike leaned in a bit closer, the studio lights casting a soft glow around the both of you. "I hope you do," he said sincerely. "Because I'd really like to see you again. Maybe over a drink, not in a studio."

You could feel your heart skip a beat at the invitation. "I'd like that too."

As they exchanged smiles, the noise of the studio faded into the background, leaving only the promise of a new connection blossoming between them.

The bar was buzzing with soft chatter and the clinking of glasses, casting a warm glow over you and Mike as you sat across from each other. After the earlier meeting for the interview, something had shifted, probably the intimate ambiance of the place helped it too.

"So, what's it really like being on stage every night?" you asked, with the voice laced with genuine curiosity.

Mike leaned forward, his eyes sparkling as he recounted stories from his time on Broadway. His passion for his craft was evident, and you found yourself captivated not just by his words but by the sincerity in his gaze.

As the evening wore on, the conversation flowed effortlessly, weaving between laughter and moments of shared insight. Mike found himself drawn to your intelligence and wit, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something special about you.

The drinks arrived, and Mike hesitated for a moment before reaching out to lightly touch your hand. You looked up, meeting his gaze with a hint of surprise that quickly melted into a warm smile.

"I'm really glad we could do this," Mike admitted, his voice soft but earnest.

You could feel your heart skip a beat. "Me too," you replied, the voice tinged with a mix of excitement and nervousness.

In that moment, the air between you both seemed to crackle with unspoken tension. Without another word, Mike leaned in, closing the gap remaining between the two of you. Your lips met in a gentle, tentative kiss that spoke volumes of the attraction simmering beneath the surface.

It was a kiss filled with promise, a silent agreement of mutual interest and the beginning of something new.

The world around you seemed to fade away as they kissed, your hand finding its way to Mike's cheek as if to anchor yourself in the moment. Mike's heart raced, his mind momentarily forgetting the crowded bar and focusing solely on the warmth of your lips against his.

When you finally pulled back, your breaths mingling in the space between them, Mike searched for your eyes, his own filled with a mixture of wonder and longing.

"Wow," you whispered, your voice barely audible above the soft background music.

"Yeah," Mike murmured, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "That was... unexpected."

You chuckled nervously, feeling a warmth spread around your face. "Unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome."

You sat in comfortable silence for a moment, basking in the afterglow of their kiss. The tension that had built up between you and Mike earlier seemed to dissipate, replaced now by a quiet understanding.

"I should probably walk you home," Mike suggested softly, his thumb gently tracing circles on the back of your hand.

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "I'd like that."

As you guys left the bar and stepped out into the cool night air, Mike offered you his arm, and you gladly linked hers through his. You walked side by side, with the shoulders brushing occasionally, each lost in their own thoughts yet connected by the spark that had ignited that evening.

#challengers #mike faist #mike faist x reader #mike faist x you #mike faist x journalist!reader #art donaldson #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #zendaya #josh oconnor #mike faist imagine #mike faist fanfic

163 notes · View notes

thetriumphantpanda · 1 year

Text

Come Away With Me | Joel & Tommy Miller (Saturday)

Summary | Back together as a family, but with a secret confession burning in your pocket. How is Tommy going to take the fact that you love his brother more than you probably should?

Word Count | 4.8K

Chapter Warnings | Our family back together. Mentions of consumption of alcohol & food. Explicit sex. Unprotecting PiV, breeding kink, (double)creampie (I said what I said👀), cum play, a sprinkling of anal/ass play, threesome dynamics (MMF), dirty talk, Tommy back to being our favourite cuck in the room kinda, Joel back to being our favourite breeding stud.

Authors Note | I.... actually think I hate this lmao. It's the first time I've felt meh about a chapter of this story, but the longer I look at it, the more I know I'll hate it, so I'm sharing it anyway. It's refreshing to have our trio back together though, they're as filthy as ever so I hope you all enjoy it! Two more chapters to go until we wrap up with these three and I am so emotional. If you enjoy this, please consider commenting, reblogging or coming into my ask box to scream with me. And, as always, If you want to support me, you can donate to my Ko-Fi.

A reminder that I no longer use taglists - to keep up with my writing, please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs and turn on notifications to keep up to date.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi

Joel wakes the next morning to you wriggling about in his arms. He cracks an eye open just enough to see you clambering to straddle his lap, palms resting on his biceps to steady yourself as you lower your pussy onto him, already hard, to drag him through your folds, already soaked for him, or maybe still soaked from him from last night.

“Mornin’ trouble,” He speaks, voice still heavy with sleep, “What are you up to?”

His hands shift to your hips so you don’t stop those slow glides of your silken folds across him, watching as you shift your face from watching between you, to his own face. You bite at your bottom lip, bashful like a child who has been caught doing something they shouldn’t be.

“We could have fucked all day yesterday,” You drawl out, gasping as the head of his cock brushes against your clit, “I’m just trying to make up for lost time before we have a houseful of people.”

He drags your hips back and forth over him, watching as you toss your head back and gasp with every pass of him over your clit. He’s trying not to think about the fact that in a few short hours, you’re not going to be his anymore, you’ll go back to being his brother’s, a façade kept up for the sake of the rest of your family. He pushes those thoughts to the back of his mind, sitting up so he can wrap his arms around your back and kiss you.

“You gonna ride me, pretty girl?” He murmurs against your lips, “Gonna sit on my cock and make yourself feel good?”

You pull back, look right into his eyes, hips still grinding against his, “Fuck yeah,” You breathe, “Can I?”

“Such a good girl,” He growls into the skin of your neck, “Askin’ all pretty and polite like that,” He settles himself back on the bed, head on the pillows, “Go on, pretty girl, take whatever you need from me.”

You use your hands that are back on his chest to push yourself up a little, reaching one hand down between you to grip the base of his cock, lining it up to your soaked core, before you sink down onto him in one go, burying him inside you to the hilt. He groans, and you cry out, feeling that twinge of pain along with the pleasure that has been so prevalent over those past few days.

You lift yourself up, almost all the way off him, sinking back down, finding your rhythm, which Joel quickly adheres to, thrusting himself up into you on your downward strokes so his cock is brushing against your cervix almost every time. His hands favour your tits this morning, cupping the weight of them in his palms as his fingers roll your nipples into peaks, squeezing perfectly every once in a while, to add to the mix of pleasure you get from him spearing his cock into you.

You lean back, motions moving to more of a grind on his cock as you cup his balls in your hand, rolling them gently in your hand, as Joel’s own fingers slip down your body and find your swollen clit, thumb rubbing circles across it as you continue to grind on him.

“You gonna come on my cock, pretty girl?” He asks, as if he doesn’t already know the answer.

Heat is licking at the base of your spine, threatening to topple you over at any moment, and you can tell from the way his hips are stuttering up into you, that Joel is close as well. You’ve had each other too many times this week for this to last very long.

“Fuck- keep going,” You groan, feeling that tight knot threatening to come undone in your tummy, “I’m – holy shit – I’m gonna come.”

“Go on, pretty girl,” Joel coaxes, thumb staying exactly where it is, doing exactly what it needs to do, “Come for me.”

And you do. Pussy clenching around his cock as you fall forward. Joel’s arms wrapped around you, keeping you pressed to his chest as he takes control, thrusting up into you as you moan into the skin of his neck. He chases your high with his own, spilling into you just seconds after your own climax hits, his fingers digging into the skin of your back as he holds you tightly to his body.

As you both lie there, catching your breath, he wants to say something. Wants to push the hair from your face, kiss the tip of your nose and tell you that he wishes this didn’t have to end. Wishes that he didn’t have to wait a month to find out if he was successful in giving you another baby. Joel selfishly wishes he hasn’t, just so he doesn’t have to go back to waiting for that one night a year. He remembers though, his words from last night, that he’s trusting you to fix this, to come up with some solution that means he can have you differently going forward, so he keeps his mouth shut, only opening it once he’s pressed a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I love you.”

Breakfast is a cobbled together affair of fruit and coffee considering most of the groceries you’d bought together have been eaten. You sent Tommy a list of things for him to pick up on his way to you. He’d set off yesterday, stopping halfway to spend the night somewhere, not convinced that Joshua would cope with doing the whole journey at once, and it shouldn’t be long until they’re here, Sarah too.

“Excited, baby?” Joel asks, pressing you against the counter to dip and kiss you once you’ve both finished the washing up.

“I am going to give my baby the biggest squeeze known to man,” You smile against his mouth, “As much as he exhausts me sometimes, I’ve missed him.”

“We talking about Joshua or Tommy?” Joel teases, hands wrapping around you to grip the globes of your ass through your jeans.

You laugh, feeling light again. This man is the Joel you know, the Joel you love. The man who loves his brother just as much as you do, probably even more, and who takes his duties as Uncle incredibly seriously. You peer over his shoulder, looking at the clock on the wall, there’s enough time for a quickie, is what you think. You start trailing your hand down his chest, resting it on the front of his jeans, palming him through the material. You’re about to start dragging down the zipper when the front door opens.

“Dad?!”

Joel pulls back from you like you’re on fire, putting enough distance between you so as to not look suspicious as he calls out to Sarah.

“In here, kiddo!”

He gives you a look that tells you he’s sorry, that he wants nothing more than to have that one final moment with you on your own. You shake your head, heat flushing across your face at almost being caught, motioning for him to go to his daughter. Sarah finds the kitchen first, embracing her dad as he kisses the crown of her head.

“Hello brainbox,” You greet her when Joel lets her go, pulling her into a hug of your own, “You look good!” You say when you finally let her go, keeping her at an arm’s length to really look at her.

“Thanks,” She smiles, looking around for a second, “Where’s Uncle Tommy?”

You look at Joel over her head, because right. The story he concocted for her meant that he’s been here all week with Joshua and the two of them are nowhere to be seen, and neither is his truck.

“Uhhhhh…” You glare at Joel’s response, quickly trying to come up with something in your mind.

“He’s out grocery shopping,” You say quickly, Joel nodding in acceptance, “Ran out of stuff this morning so he’s taken Joshua into town to stock up.”

She nods, accepting your answer, moving back to give her dad another hug, “Which room is mine?” She asks, “I’ll go and drop my bag.”

“First door on the left.” Joel speaks, pointing down the hallway across from the kitchen.

“Alright, I might get changed too,” Sarah nods her head outside, “It’s a nice day, maybe we can take Joshua swimming?”

“Of course,” You smile, “Take your time, bug, there’s no rush.”

Once she’s started off down the hall, you fish your phone from your back pocket, punching in a text to Tommy, as Joel shifts back closer to you, not being able to bear being away from you too long.

Sarah arrived. Covered for your absence. Message me when you’re on your way from town and I’ll meet you outside.

You lean up into Joel’s face, letting him kiss you as you put your phone on the side. You push up into his mouth, opening your lips against him to taste his tongue when your phone vibrates on the side.

Just leaving town now sugar, great timing. See you soon.

You put a hand on Joel’s chest, leaning up to give him one last peck on the lips, “Tommy’s almost here,” You say against his mouth, okay, now this is the last kiss as you press them back to his, “I’ll wait outside for them.” He smiles but his eyes are sad. You’ve spent long enough staring into them to know that look. You press one final kiss to his mouth now, “Remember I love you,” You insist, “And I’m gonna make this right.”

“I believe you,” He relents, squeezing your hand as you move around him to head to the front door, “And I love you too.”

“Mama!”

“Oh, my baby boy!” You exclaim, pulling Joshua out of his car seat and into your arms, holding him tight to your chest as his small arms try and wrap around your neck, “I missed you so much baby.”

As much as this trip had given you the opportunity to be a woman again, not just a mother, the way your son fits into your arms, the way he smells when you take a breath of his hair into your lungs and the way he nuzzles into your face make motherhood all worth it. You have never loved something as much as this boy in your arms. Not your husband, and not his brother, and that’s something you never thought would be true. Something you’d never thought you’d ever understand.

Tommy is rounding the front of the truck, slipping his hand into the back pocket of your jeans as you lean your face up, kissing him, “Missed you too, handsome,” You smile, pulling your attention back to Joshua, giving his cheek a kiss, “Have you and daddy had fun this week?”

“Yeah!” Joshua exclaims, wriggling about in your arms, he’s almost too big for you to hold like this anymore, “We played lots!”

“That sounds like fun,” You smile, turning back to Tommy, “We told Sarah you’d gone to town for supplies, so that,” You motion to his and Joshua’s overnight bags, “Will have to stay hidden until we can sneak them in.”

Joshua wriggles a bit more in your arms, “Uncle Joel!”

You turn slightly towards the lodge, where Joel is coming down the steps. He reaches out and claps his brother on the back in their usual greeting, before he reaches over and pinches Joshua’s cheek gently between his thumb and pointer finger.

“Hey bud,” He greets, “You’re getting so big!”

Joshua unwraps his arms from your neck and reaches out to Joel, flexing his fingers in the way he does when he wants something. Joel laughs, “Let me help your dad get everythin’ outta the car bud,” He smiles, “Then we’ll have a cuddle, okay?”

You smile at Tommy as Joel rounds to the back of the truck, opening the back door to reach in and grab some of the grocery bags, “Help your brother,” You smile at Tommy, leaning up to kiss his cheek, “I’ll take this little monster inside.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Tommy speaks, a little two-finger salute added for effect.

It’s been a wonderful day. The sun has started to dip behind the trees, a cool breeze opening up a little. Sarah and Joel are still playing in the water with Joshua, their laughs mixed with his as they splash each other in the water. You’re sat on a towel by the shore, head leant against Tommy’s damp shoulder, his hand resting on your knee.

You’ve been in and out of the water all day, floating around with Sarah and Joshua, watching as Sarah plays with him on her own, sitting off to the side as Joel and Tommy sip beers and catch up. You smile the whole day, laugh for most of it too, but there’s always that fear that threatens to spill over when you think about what you have to do.

There are nerves bubbling in your tummy. You have to tell him. You have to speak to him. Looking out at the water, to where Joshua is perched on Joel’s shoulders and Sarah is splashing water at her dad, you know you have to tell him, but you’re still not quite sure how he’s going to react. You’ve run through this conversation so many times in your head over the last twenty-four hours, switching your opening sentence, developing your defence, but none of that comes out now, what comes out surprises even you.

“I love him.” Easiest to tear the band-aid straight off, you think.

Tommy barks a laugh next to you which surprises you. You lift your head off his shoulder and look at him, he’s smiling, “I know you do.”

“But I love you too.” You quickly add.

“I know that too,” He’s looking back at you now, clearly understanding the confusion on your face, “Why do you think I had no problem lettin’ you come here with him, huh?” He asks, squeezing the hand he’s got resting on your knee, “Or the way I’ve never complained about letting you go with him for his birthday?”

“Are you not mad?” You ask, biting at your bottom lip.

“No sugar, I’m not mad,” He leans down, kissing your cheek, “I love that man more than you will ever understand, he’s always had my back, always bailed me outta the shitty situations I’ve got myself into, never once thought about himself since that little girl was born,” He nods his head towards Sarah, “You make each other so happy, I ain’t ever seen Joel so happy since he started helpin’ us out, and I want nothing more than to keep makin’ him happy.”

“I don’t want to leave you,” You insist, your own hand resting on his thigh.

“I know you don’t, I don’t want you to leave either,” You can feel your eyes start to well with tears, “I’ve been sharin’ you for years baby, and I ain’t gonna stop because you two have finally admitted you love each other.”

“Finally?” You ask, using your free hand to wipe at your eyes, “What do you mean?”

“Baby, I’ve been watchin’ you fuck him for months, I know I’m slow sometimes, but I’d have to be fuckin’ blind not to see what you mean to each other.”

You maneuver yourself so you’re practically sat in his lap, arms wrapped around his neck as you cry into his shoulder a little. You wonder in this moment what it was that you did to deserve him, to deserve them both. Two men who love you unconditionally, who just want you to be the happiest you can be, and two brothers who just want to see the other happy too.

You pull back, clutching Tommy’s face in your hands, “So you don’t mind if I want to see him more often?” You ask timidly.

“Not at all, sugar,” He leans forward, kissing your lips, "That man has never once thought about himself, put himself first, not since Sarah came along, and it's about time he did something for himself, we've just gotta help him right?" He asks, to which you nod in response, “We’re lucky men to have you.”

“And I’m a lucky girl to have you both.”

Things had seemed so normal over dinner. Tommy had grilled an insane amount of meat that’d you’d all devoured. You’d drank beers together, Joshua had sat on Joel’s lap for most of the night, favouring his uncle over anyone else. It felt like it always did when you were all together as a family, Sarah feeding small bits of food to Joshua, Tommy’s hand on your knee under the table as you all talk about different things – how Sarah is getting on at college, how this time next year Joshua will have started school. You know they’re different now though, although Joel doesn’t. You wonder if he’d seen you speaking with Tommy earlier, if he did then he must know that things are okay, right? That there wasn’t an argument so it must be okay. You want to tell him, want to take his face in your hands and kiss him at the table so he knows everything is okay.

You’re propped up against the pillows of your bed now – those so familiar to you now after this week. Reading the book you’d been trying so hard to focus on this whole week and still finding you can’t quite concentrate on it. Tommy had put Joshua to bed a few hours ago, Sarah had gone to bed at the same time as you, leaving the brothers on their own to clean up and catch up. You wonder now what they might be talking about.

It's not long before you find out exactly what they’ve been talking about. There’s a soft knock at the door before it opens, revealing Tommy, who steps into the dimly lit room, closely followed by Joel, who closes the door behind him gently.

“Hello.” You greet, looking up from your book.

“Joel’s been tellin’ me what a good girl you’ve been for him all week,” Tommy speaks, “He’s given you a glowing report, sugar.”

Oh. So that’s what they’ve been talking about. You wonder if Tommy told him? Wonder whether he’s given his brother the permission he needed to have you like he wants. You close your book and set it on the nightstand, turning back to them.

“We’ve been trying really hard baby,” You speak, voice sweet, “Haven’t we Joel?” You look into that familiar face, “I’ve been so full all week trying real hard for this baby.”

Tommy walks slowly to your side of the bed, gripping your chin to tilt your face up to look at him whilst Joel watches on.

“You gonna show me what you’ve been gettin’ up to?” He asks softly, “Gonna let me fuck you?”

Tommy pulls back the duvet, letting his fingers gently trace down between the valley of your breasts, covered by your nightdress. He trails further down to the hem, letting his hand sneak under the material. You spread your legs for him slightly, keeping your eyes on his as his fingers slip between your folds finding you already wet for them both.

“Looks like the answer is yes,” He chuckles, dipping down to kiss you as he drags his slick fingers up to your clit to circle gently, “How about you give Joel your pretty mouth, baby?” He asks, “I’ve missed this pussy, I gotta be inside you.”

He takes his hand away from you, letting you shift so you’re on your hands and knees, nightdress pushed up to the small of your back, so you’re spread and on display for Tommy. You reach out a hand and motion with a finger for Joel to come to you, which he does, hands already moving to unzip his jeans. Joel lets them pool on the floor before he gets onto the bed in front of you, fist around the base of his already hard cock, guiding it to your mouth at the exact same time as Tommy nudges himself inside you, sliding in slowly until you’re full of him, Joel doing the exact same to your mouth, letting his cock slip across the length of your tongue until he hits the back of your throat.

He feels absolutely delicious inside of you, like he always has done for all these years, angling just perfectly inside you to brush against that spot that's been so stimulated this past week. Your moans are muffled, vibrating around Joel's cock as you take him down into your throat, saliva pooling around the edges of your mouth.

This, you think, is what you were made for. To have two men, two of the most beautiful men in the world, taking their pleasure from you, but giving you twice that in return.

Joel's hand grips your chin as he starts shallow thrusts into your mouth, you look up at him, your own eyes rimmed with tears, his blown out and dark from lust as he fucks your mouth, groaning in pleasure when you do.

"You're a lucky girl, ain't ya sugar?" Tommy husks from behind you, his skin slapping against yours, "Two men here to adore ya," He leans over and kisses at the skin covering your spine, "Always were meant to be the centre of attention."

Joel lets his cock slip from your mouth, looking down at you with one eyebrow cock, his hand around your jaw to get you to look at him, “He’s right, ain’t he, pretty girl?” He asks, running a thumb over you spit soaked bottom lip, “Love bein’ the centre of attention, don’t ya?” You nod, totally overwhelmed by the feeling of Tommy’s pace behind you, but Joel taps your cheek, “Words, pretty girl,” He chastises, “Use your big girl words.”

Tommy’s hands grip your hips, pulling you back onto him as he thrusts into you, making you cry out, “Yes!” You gasp, realising you have to try and keep quiet, Sarah’s only just down the hall.

“Yes what?”

“I love it,” You whimper, looking up at him, “Love being the centre of attention.”

“Course ya do,” Tommy quips from behind you, “We love you bein’ the centre of attention too.”

Joel uses his fist to guide his cock back into the warmth of your mouth, resuming his short thrusts into your mouth as Tommy pounds into you from behind. The sounds in the room are obscene – there’s the sound of Tommy’s skin hitting your own, the sound of you almost gagging on Joel’s cock, and the mixture of grunts and groans that are pulled from their mouths as they use your body to make themselves feel good. You almost wish you could see yourself right now, speared at both ends of your body by these two men.

Joel trails his fingers as far down your arm as he can, and you think he’s asking for you to put your hand on his balls as you take him in your mouth, so you do, but he’s swatting it away, gripping your wrist as you look up at him again, tears falling down your face.

“Put it on your pussy,” He instructs, “Make yourself come for us.”

You snake your hand down, fingers circling your clit, slick as always. You start working in fast movements just as you feel Tommy’s thumb start to tease the tight ring of muscle of your ass. You whimper again around Joel’s cock as his hands gather your hair, using it to drag your mouth up and down him.

“You want it, sugar?” Tommy asks, pulling his thumb away before you hear him spit, the warmth spreading down your ass as his thumb works the wet into your skin there.

Joel, once again, pulls his cock from the wet heat of your mouth, motioning for you to talk, “Go on, pretty girl,” He coaxes, “Tell him you want it, we know you love it.”

“Please,” You breathe out a beg, pushing back lightly into his finger, “Please, Tommy.”

“Always sound so fucking pretty when you beg for it baby,” He chuckles behind you, “I’ll give it to ya, don’t worry.”

When his thumb pushes inside of you, as the same time as Joel feeds you his cock once more, it’s almost immediate, the way your orgasm slams into you. Stuffed full in every possible way, as Tommy’s thumb presses gently into your ass, as Joel’s cock hits the back of your throat over and over again and the way Tommy is pounding into that delicious spot inside you as always. The knot of pleasure snaps, Joel’s cock muffling your cries as your pussy clenches around Tommy, walls fluttering as you work your clit through the aftershocks, body convulsing almost violently.

“God damn it sugar,” Tommy groans behind you, “Gonna – fuck – m’gonna come baby, where?”

“Inside,” You moan, pulling off Joel’s cock, “Please, inside me baby.”

He gives you exactly what you want just seconds later, stilling behind you, with his cock buried as deep as he’ll go. He lets out that sound that you love, a high-pitched whine that’s similar to some of the sounds he and his brother draw from you as you feel him fill you up. He’s not giving you much time to recover, groaning lightly as he pulls out, stopping briefly to watch as his cum drips from your spent pussy.

You roll onto your back, fingers drifting down and inside of you, slowly pumping in and out as Joel comes into view. He stands at the side of your bed, pulls at your legs so the backs of your thighs are pressed against his chest, ankles by his face. He pulls your hand away from your pussy, pushing your fingers into your mouth as you clean Tommy’s cum off them.

“Go on brother,” Tommy encourages, settling himself on the bed behind you, “You’ve still got a job to do.”

“Ain’t no way she’s not full of my baby,” Joel growls as he sinks his cock into your pussy, your slick and the cum his brother’s just filled you with making it so easy for him to slide in all the way, “Is there, pretty girl?”

His hands are splayed over your stomach now as he pounds his cock into you, the squelch of your pussy filling the room, “Filled me up so good, Joel,” You moan, hands palming at your tits as your head turns to look at Tommy, “Been full of him all week baby.” You say in his direction.

The attention you’ve been giving Joel with your mouth means he’s already on the edge, “Sucked me so good, pretty girl,” He mumbles, “Gonna come for you.”

You’re gripping the backs of his thighs, pulling him closer to you as he ruts himself as hard and fast into you as he can manage, “Please Joel,” You sob, feeling the head of his cock bruising at your cervix, “Give it to me, please.”

“Quit your crying,” He spits, “You know I’m gonna give it to you.”

And like clockwork he does. He groans out, low and loud as always, as you feel the hot spurts of his cum filling you up, mixing with what Tommy gave you just minutes ago. He slips out of you, watching as his cum mixed with his brother’s drips from your used cunt. He runs his fingers down the folds of your pussy, scooping up what’s left you, pushing it back in, because he’s got to be sure, got to be sure that he’s given you every drop of himself.

You expect the aftermath to be a little strange as you pull the hem of your nightdress back down. Tommy’s already half asleep on the bed, clothes haphazardly thrown back on as he shuffles himself under the sheets. You follow suit, watching as Joel puts him underwear back on.

Tommy has already wrapped an arm around your waist, dragging you to his body, light breath fanning against the skin of your neck. You’re watching Joel as he straightens up.

“Hey,” You speak softly, grabbing his attention, you reach out a hand which he takes, “Stay.” You say simply, tapping the empty side of the bed, the side of the bed that had been his all week.

He smiles, squeezing your hand, and you think he might refuse, opting to take the final bedroom, but he doesn’t. He climbs onto the bed, far enough away that your bodies don’t touch, respecting the claim Tommy has staked by holding your body close to his, but keeps his hand in yours, as physical reminder that he’s here and he’s not going anywhere. He leans forward, soft kiss pressed to your lips, before his other hand pushes your hair back from your face.

“Sleep, pretty girl,” He insists softly, “Tomorrow is a new day.”

And sleep you do – one Miller brother strong against your back, arm draped over your waist, other Miller brother led facing you, chocolate brown eyes watching you as you drift off to sleep, your hand clutched in his to anchor you to him just as much as you’re anchored to his brother. As your eyes close and you drift off, you realise you’re exactly where you want to be, held by both the men you love, and that’s absolutely enough for you right now.

635 notes · View notes

multifandomwhore-003 · 10 months

Text

Forever —Drabble

Pairing: Lando Norris x female! reader

Summary: First time watching your boyfriend crash during a race? Rough.

Genre: angst, fluff.

Waring(s): Mentions of the Las Vegas crash.

Taglist: @ join taglist here

A/N: This is by far the most poetic work I've ever put out (I think), that being said. WHATEVER TF THIS IS, BLAME ON HIM, THIS MAN IS GORGEOUS

Gif credits to whom it belongs

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

THIS IS NOT FREE USE, YOU CANNOT USE MY WORK

Even through ringing ears and a dazy view, he could clearly hear you, wondering then how it was even possible, he heard beyond the arguments and strong footsteps; the flare of your nose, the shakiness in your breath, the hamering in your heart, he swore he could feel it. And with that in mind, he sighed in relived, he could feel something after all, the last thing he remembered, the last thing he perceived was dread, flashing through the last few hours of his life, could those be his last?

Shaking, on the verge of tears all he could do beyond gathering the last remnants of strength in him, was think of his family, you right beside his parents, you.

Minutes passed before he realized he blinked forcefully, perhaps one of these times he'd actually lose consciousness, or worse, be gone for good. His usual dramatics and the painkillers were dancing around his brain, making it their playground. Against all of this, he tried to organize the sound with letters, letters into words, and words into speech. Speech, Could he speak right now?

He prepared himself for the task by trying to stand on his elbows.

"Mr. Norris, please lie down," the nurse guided his head back into the pillow.

"My girlfriend," his throat was hoarse strangely enough.

"She's right outside," the nurse's undertone confirmed his bare train of thought.

"I have to see her," he grabbed the woman's arm, he was pleading.

She whispered something under her breath, clearly giving in to the situation, "I'll let her in," she grinned.

He could recognize something now, your stance, firm in shape, trembling with every motion, you stepped in asking, no, demanding the nurse to close the door behind her, avoiding her gaze in plain coldness. You said nothing for the first few seconds, breathing deeply.

"I'm okay," he let out.

"I know, they've already explained everything to me," you covered your mouth.

His fingers reached for yours, longed for them, interlacing with one another, perfectly, like every time before tonight.

He took some awareness of his surroundings, as much as he could without pushing to the edge, how horrible of a might he had over his head, effective, but far too harsh, far too overwhelming.

"We're going home in a couple of hours, they just wanna make sure, you're going to be fine," you knew you were failing at reassuring him, he didn't need it, but you did.

"I gathered that, otherwise you would still be outside yelling at everyone you could,"

You chuckled, not proud of your actions, but finding them rather hysterical at the moment, "I'm sorry you had to hear that,"

"It was music to my ears," he joked.

"Having my screams flood this place?"

"Having you care so much about me,"

"Always," was all you could answer biting down a sniffle.

It was not so long ago when you quietly promised yourself to give him your heart, the one thing you'd never thought you'd offer, let alone to the guy the Russells so kindly invited to a tennis event, to the guy who over a few drinks and laughs without a sense of shame in the world asked you to dance messily, making of those videos something for the internet to cut and explore. He was so much more than that now, and even to put it into those words was the understatement of a lifetime.

He could say the same thing about his side of the story, to explore a rather rushed friendship before diving, completely submerging, was something he'd labeled as a blessing. To fill his hours by your side in talking, and talking until you had everything to learn from one another laid out and displayed in string lights. Neither of you looked for this, flowing like every bottle of champagne you saw him pop, like every shot of Tequila you drank during Mario-kart nights, like every tear of Rosé you spilled all over your couch in the middle of the night.

And to think that both the most infamous people of their career found in themselves something far more valuable than money, fame, even transcending. Comprehending during the first years of your adulthood what it all meant to allow yourself to be completely consumed with love. So unexpectedly both your reputation and his infinite rumors could all be proven wrong. Through the worst of the trials and tribulations of being committed, you still survived.

His head rested in all the calmness you made by moving heaven and earth to have, in the crook of your neck, never letting go of the sensation of his breath, his life. How funny was it to trust someone enough to keep you alive, physically, mentally emotionally; how funny that none of them could think of how to prove something as mysterious as love to be true, in themselves, in one another, in other people past the centuries, yet they believed in, that's what they invested their faith in.

Admitting you were never fools, but only to each other, you could almost touch each other's soul, finding it far more familiar than your own.

"I'm okay," he'd been repeating the same words like a prayer since the night before.

"I know," you gulped, letting go of a choked exhale.

He read you, "Trust me?"

"Forever," you reminded your thoughts, clearing them out with just one.

—If you can't trust yourself, trust him, forever—

"I'm okay," he tested the words against your sleepless frame.

"I belive you," you finally admitted in peace before giving you lips to his.

#lando norris x reader #lando norris #lando norris fanfic #lando norris one shot #lando norris imagine #lando norris fluff #lando norris angst #formula 1 #f1

581 notes · View notes

badasbebi · 4 months

Text

imagination's curse

navigation

✦ pairing: bada lee x fem!reader

✦ summary: you long for excitement in your mundane life, until you are suddenly visited by a strange, beautiful woman who upends your world and thrusts you into a whirlwind of pleasure and danger.

✦ genre/au: smut (MDNI!!), succubus!bada, basically pwp

✦ word count: 6k

✦ warnings: probably has grammatical/spelling errors, mentions of demons and occult activities, top!bada (she's doing all the work), fingering, cunnilingus, bit of thigh riding, y/n is a weakling, somebody dies (or do they?)

✦ a/n: this is very different from other fics I've written, in genre and length, because after watching bebe's imagination video on repeat, i decided to temporarily drop the other fic i was working on to write this! we will be getting back to the more simple (and long) fics I've written before, but i hope you guys still enjoy this in the meantime! i purposely left this open-ended in case i, or you guys, wanted to see a continuation of this story at some point. lmk if that would be of interest to y'all!

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Beyond the restaurant windows, rain pounds against the earth. The rhythmic drumming of the rain lulls you into a trance-like state, eyes glossing over and body becoming numb. The soft jazz music coming from the speakers overhead only enhances your drowsiness, making you melt into your seat like heated wax. You rest your chin in the palm of your hand and stare out at the street, watching cars pass by and disappear into the darkness. Your eyelids become heavy and you blink, attempting to bring your attention back to the real world, and, probably most importantly, the person in front of you.

You sigh, slouching forward in your chair. Your date, Seolhyun, has been droning on for the last twenty minutes about her schoolwork. Her mouth is moving, but your mind isn't registering her words. You can't bring yourself to care. She seems somewhat nice, and she's devastatingly pretty, but those were about the only two qualities of value that you could conjure up. This wouldn't have been so bad, if this date hadn't essentially turned into a one-sided conversation she was having with herself. You don't think you've said more than three words since the both of you sat down.

"Like, nursing is so boring and depressing. I don't get why so many people are into it," she says, taking a bite of her food. "I want to do something interesting and fresh, like, modeling, or something. Or, maybe I'll switch my major to art. I take really good pictures of my friends. Isn't there a photography concentration in the arts program?"

Seolhyun looks over at you expectantly, waiting for your input. You have no idea what the answer is, so you just shrug and give her a fake, tight-lipped smile.

"Yeah, you know what? I think I'm gonna talk to my advisor tomorrow. It's just that my dad is the problem. Whenever I talk to my dad he's like, nooooo. That's not what I've been sending you money for. He's so old fashioned."

"Oh," you respond, your voice monotone. There is a part of you that can't help but feel a little bad about zoning out and ignoring her, but you've had your fill of boring conversations about family and school and life aspirations. This was nothing new.

She slams one of her hands on the table, making you jump so high you nearly knock your glass of water over.

"And it's silly because he's the one who wanted me to go to college sooo badly, so how are you going to complain about paying for it? Its like—and not to sound like a cunt—we do pretty well for ourselves. I don't need to be the moneymaker! I get he wants me to be the head nurse at the hospital he owns, but honestly, fuck that hospital. Fuck the patients too!" she continues, her voice raised loud enough to capture the attention of the nearby tables. You can feel their eyes on you, and a wave of embarrassment washes over you. You glance around the room, trying not to make eye contact with anyone, slowly sliding down in your seat.

"He's just...he's such a hardass. Doesn't let me do anything. It's a real shame," she finishes, huffing in annoyance.

You nod. "Right, it is a real shame." you mumble, still avoiding others' judgemental gazes.

She doesn't seem to notice how uncomfortable you've become, or the attention that she's gathering. Instead, she grins."I know! I'm so glad you get it."

The only thing you're getting is murderous. You needed to get out of here, quickly. As if hearing your internal cries for help, the waiter appears, asking if the two of you would like to see the dessert menu. You shake your head.

"Oh, no. Just the check please," you say, glancing up at him.

Seolhyun nods in agreement. "Yeah, I'm done. This salad was kinda trash. No offense. Sorry." She picks up her napkin and dabs it at her mouth.

The waiter grimaces. "No problem. I'll be right back."

As the waiter walks off, you turn back to Seolhyun, forcing yourself to smile. She jumps right back into her complaints, albeit more quietly, and fidgets with the stem of her wine glass. You tune her out again, no longer feeling guilty for doing so. The only thing that brings your attention back to reality is the waiter setting the bill face-down on the table. He bids you both goodnight before walking off, and when you look up, you almost want to laugh.

A guilty expression flashes across Seolhyun's face, and she leans over the table, looking at the check. She clears her throat, and you already know what she's about to say.

"Do you have your card on you? Sorry, I think I left mine at home. I'll totally venmo you after this." She laughs awkwardly, sitting back in her seat.

You roll your eyes, but reach for your wallet. "Whatever."

After dinner, the two of you step out of the restaurant and into the rain, huddling under the overhang as you try to find an escape from the downpour.

"Well, it was nice chatting with you, y/n," she says, stepping towards the edge of the overhang. "Hope we can hang out again soon."

"Yeah, definitely," you lie.

"Awesome! Talk to you later, then." She smiles, and you know she's lying too.

Seolhyun walks out into the rain and you watch as she crosses the street, heading toward a pink Tesla.

"Bitch," you murmur bitterly, pulling your hood over your head.

You don't want to spend money on an Uber, and the walk to the nearest bus stop isn't very far, so you decide to trek through the rain, praying that the bus won't take long. You zip up your coat and adjust your hood, stepping out into the rain. The cold pelts against your face and seeps through the material of your clothes, causing goosebumps to break out on your skin. You curse, and pull your arms close to your body, walking faster. The streetlamps lining the road provide enough light for you to see where you're going despite the dark clouds overhead, their glow casting an orange glow against the pavement.

As you walk, your thoughts turn back to your disastrous date. You didn't mean to act like such an ass, but it was impossible not to when the entire evening had consisted of her talking about herself and how difficult her life was. The worst part is, she actually seemed to think you were a good listener, even with your blank stares and monosyllabic responses.

Deep down, you know that it's not entirely Seolhyun's fault. Today felt like a culmination of all the ways you've been failing lately. In short, it's been a bad week. A bad month. A bad year. At all points, you've felt as though there was no escape from the dullness of your life, like you were being suffocated, drowned in a pool of water with no way to save yourself. These were your college years, and you came to the realization last year that all you've been doing was sitting in your room, studying, going to class, and then going home. No parties, no drama, no adventures, no romance, nothing. Even worse, it seemed like everyone else had already started their lives and were living them. It was infuriating, seeing everyone around you have fun, while you were stuck in this weird limbo of mediocrity.

In attempts to find some excitement, you downloaded a dating app and started going out more, meeting people, but so far, all the dates have ended up being like this. Boring, or just plain awkward. You've tried to make changes—different clothes, makeup, hair—anything to shake things up, and while that was nice and made you feel pretty, it didn't change the fact that your life was still dull. And now, you're just exhausted, constantly feeling like you're going through the motions.

Nothing has worked. This was probably the tenth horrible date you've been on in two months. Maybe, this was just your life now, and you had to come to terms with it. Bland, and as bleak as the clouds overhead.

Which seem to have gotten even darker, you notice, as you approach the bus stop. You stand underneath the shelter, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them. The streets are completely deserted. You shiver, your damp clothes clinging to your skin, and hug yourself tightly, trying to keep warm. You try to look for any sign of the bus, but the rain is coming down too hard, the air is heavy with fog, and you can't see further than a few feet away. A prickle of fear runs down your spine. You didn't even think to check if the buses were running late. What if they're not running at all?

Just as you reach for your phone to check the time, you hear the screeching of bus brakes and let out a sigh of relief. You're saved.

You stand at the edge of the sidewalk, watching as the bus slowly pulls up in front of the stop. The door opens and you step inside, moving as quickly as you can. The warm air instantly hits your face, but the heat does nothing to thaw the chill that has set in your bones.

You pay the driver and walk to the back, taking a seat near the window. The bus is nearly empty, save for an old woman and a couple of teenagers sitting towards the front.

You pull your phone out of your pocket and plug in your earbuds. Music starts playing, drowning out the noise of the rain and the rumble of the engine.

After a few stops, the bus reaches your destination and the doors open, the sound of the rain pouring down and the wind blowing in, bringing with it a cool breeze. You get off, and begin the trek home, your sneakers splashing through puddles as you make your way down the street.

The wind picks up, the gusts blowing hard enough to cause the street lamps to flicker and sway. They cast shadows against the ground and walls of the buildings, which appear and disappear in the blink of an eye. The rain comes down harder, falling in thick, heavy sheets. You quicken your pace, the muscles in your legs burning as you move, your heart rate quickening.

Finally, your apartment building comes into view. You run, sprinting the last block and darting up the steps, the water squishing between your toes. Excitement blooms in your chest as you grab the door handle and pull it open, the prospect of a dry place to lay your head making you feel better.

As soon as you cross the threshold of your building, you pull your hood down, the smell of mildew hitting your nose. Your shoes squeak against the wet floor, and you leave a trail of water droplets and mud as you head toward the elevator.

The ride up is excruciatingly slow. You tap your foot impatiently, watching the numbers climb, and think about the warm bed that's awaiting you, how good it'll feel to wrap yourself in a blanket and forget about this miserable night. If your roommate allows it.

Once your mind drifts to her, your excitement dwindles. Fatigue weighs heavy on your shoulders, and you long for nothing more than to be asleep in the comfort of your own bed, but you know it's a rubbish wish, thanks to Aeri.

Recently, home hasn't been particularly enjoyable either. You used to have a roommate who didn't bother you. Then, she dropped out, and you were stuck with rent, an empty room, and the task of finding a new roommate. It was a difficult process, with most candidates seeming creepy or annoying or gross. Then, you ran into Aeri, who was by no means a perfect match, but seemed good enough. She was a bit awkward, and you didn't really know what to make of the intense gothic attire she was sporting during your initial meeting. She seemed incredibly nice and easygoing, though, and she smelled good. Was that not all you needed? So, running out of time, you swallowed your apprehension and gave her the spare keys to your apartment.

For the most part, you didn't regret your decision. She was, in fact, one of the sweetest, most caring people you've ever met, frequently baking treats for you when she knew you were having a particularly terrible day and listening to you vent about your dating diasters. But, there were a few small issues that had cropped up, and they happened to occur most often at night.

Your stomach does flip-flops the higher the numbers get, until, finally, the elevator dings, and the doors open. You shuffle out into the hall, pulling out your keys and heading toward the apartment. When you're in front of the door, you hesitate, the key hovering in the air as you stare at the peephole. You take a deep breath and push the door open, the smell of incense instantly hitting your nose as you step inside of the dark apartment. You slip off your wet shoes and hang your jacket up on your worn-out coat rack.

"I'm back," you call, closing the door behind you. You step further into the apartment and glance around as you walk into the living room, where you are met with a sight you're not prepared for.

Your eyes squint to adjust to the dark and take in the scene before you. The air is thick and heavy, engulfed by the scent of a sweet, intoxicating perfume. Candles are placed throughout the space, their warm glow casting shadows on the wall. Aeri kneels in the middle of the living room, wearing a cloak, her hands hovering above an intricate pentagram on the floor. She mumbles something to herself that you cannot understand, her eyes closed. Her hair falls over her face and her lips move, but no words are uttered.

"Aeri, what are you doing?" you ask, taking a tentative step forward.

Aeri's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and the mumbling stops.

"Oh, hey, you're back," she says, her tone a bit nervous. Her hands tremble as she moves the hood of her cloak back. "Sorry, I didn't know you'd be back so soon. I was just—uh—you know."

"No, actually. I don't. What are you doing?" You repeat, folding your arms in front of you.

She looks around the room, before returning her gaze to you. "Uh...meditating?"

And this was the problem. Shortly after Aeri moved in, she brought her witchy occult shit with her. You don't really believe in any of it, so you typically ignore her and carry on with your day when you see her pull out one of her spellbooks at the dinner table. Except for days like this, when she goes too far, gets too loud, and keeps you up at night with her antics. Then, she becomes public enemy number one.

You glare at her. "With a pentagram on the floor? Please. This is..."

You pause, scanning the room again. There's something particularly wrong today, but you can't quite place it. There's heaviness in the air, a heightened version of the feeling you get when you're in a haunted house, except there are no clowns or people cosplaying as serial killers, just candles and a pentagram and Aeri, staring up at you.

"Bizarre. This is bizarre. Even for you." you finish, narrowing your eyes. "What's going on?"

"Nothing!" She squeaks, her voice strained. "I was just...doing some reading about a spell that could, uh. Fix a problem that I’ve been having. I decided to try it out today"

You pinch the bridge of your nose and let out an exasperated sigh. You're tired. Your hair is drenched. Your shirt is clinging to your back. You couldn't be bothered with this.

"Listen, I don't think I actually care about what you have going on. But, I have an exam tomorrow, I've had a rough day, and I need some rest. Can you promise to keep it down in here while I sleep?"

Aeri looks around, a guilty expression on her face, before nodding her head. "Sure, yeah. No problem. I’m sorry."

"Thank you," you say, and turn on your heels without another word.

You make your way through the hallway and enter your bedroom, shutting the door behind you.

Your room is dark and cold, but you can't bother to turn the lights on or get under the covers. Instead, you lay down on the bed, your limbs splayed out. Your hair is still wet, and you can feel the moisture seeping into your comforter, but you can't even think to move.

You're too tired to bother changing into your pajamas. Too tired to do anything but sleep. So, you shove off your socks and rain-soaked jeans and call it a day. You crawl into bed, pulling the blankets over your body until they rest just below your chin. The warmth envelopes you and you're finally able to relax. You stare up at the ceiling, watching the fan spin slowly, praying for a peaceful night's rest. Lately, you've been plagued by strange dreams you can't remember when you wake up. Although they've been forgetful, they usually keep you tossing and turning in your sleep throughout the night. But, tonight, your eyelids are so heavy you can barely keep them open, and within seconds, you drift off into unconsciousness, the world slipping away and the darkness consuming you. The smell of Aeri's incense and the sound of the rain lulls you into a slumber unlike never before, submerged into a dark void of nothing.

That is, until you feel something touch you. You awaken with a start, jolting upright in your bed, your heart racing. The room is dark, illuminated only by the light of the moon shining through the window. You glance around frantically, searching for the source of the touch, but there's nothing, no sign of life. Just shadows, and the sound of your breathing. You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. It's probably just the wind or an insect. You're tired, and your deteriorating mind is playing tricks on you. There's nothing to be scared of.

You lay back down, pulling the blankets up to your chin, and take a deep breath, closing your eyes. Your heartbeat begins to slow, and you exhale, trying to relax. A few minutes pass, and you begin to drift off once again, when, suddenly, you feel something against your neck. A cold, soft pressure. Like a feather, brushing across your skin.

"Y/N." A soft, gentle voice whispers.

Your eyes flutter open, and you are met with the sight of a woman's face, inches away from yours. You gasp and shoot up again, nearly slamming your forehead against hers. The woman backs away, allowing you to regain your bearings. You blink a few times, shaking your head to try to wake yourself up, but she remains., staring at you with an expression that could only be described as amused.

The moonlight streams in through the window, giving the woman's figure an almost ethereal glow. You've never seen her before. She has a stupefying, otherworldly, beauty about her, with dark eyes and full lips that accentuate her sharp jawline. She's wearing a black, silky nightgown that clings to her body. Her pale, delicate-looking skin shines in the moonlight, and her dark hair, interlaced with another color, cascades down her back, falling over her shoulders.

You look around the room, expecting the lights to turn on and an elaborate prank to be revealed, but the room is just as dark and empty as you remember. When your eyes fall back onto the woman, she is staring back at you, a soft smile on her face.

"Who the fuck are you?" you force out, your voice trembling.

She quirks an eyebrow, tilting her head to the side. "Were you not expecting me?"

You scoff, nearly choking on your own saliva. "No! Of course not. I've never seen you before in my life. What the hell is going on? And how do you know my name?"

Her eyes light up with mirth, and her smile widens as if she's in on some sort of joke.

"Oh, this is interesting," she starts, clasping her hands together. "This is very interesting."

As a primal fear takes hold of your body, interesting is the last word that comes to your brain to describe the situation you've found yourself in. Albeit hot, this random woman broke into your apartment to do God knows what to you and your belongings. Who knows if she's already murdered Aeri. Or, perhaps, this is a lucid dream, and you're experiencing some sort of weird hallucination. Either way, you wanted out. Now.

You release a shaky exhale in a poor attempt to calm your nerves. "I'm gonna call the cops, okay? But, I really don't want any trouble. If you leave now, I won't tell anyone about this."

The woman stares at you for a moment, her expression unreadable, before erupting into a fit of laughter. You blink, unsure of how to proceed. She continues to laugh, her hand clutching her chest as her whole body shakes. The sound is melodic, and it rings out like the chimes of a bell, the notes flowing effortlessly into the air. It's almost enchanting, and you find yourself lost in the melody until she quiets down and straightens up, a soft smile on her face.

"That's completely unnecessary. I'm not here to cause you any harm, Y/N," she says, and, somehow, her voice is even more hypnotic than her laugh. Some of your fear dissipates, but the confusion remains.

"Why are you here, then?" you question, unable to keep the suspicion out of your tone.

"To give you a little bit of help. I know you've been struggling." She replies, her voice dripping with sympathy.

"How do you know that?"

She smiles, the expression making her features seem even more radiant than before. "I know a lot of things. 'How' is irrelevant. What's more important is that I know exactly how I can help you tonight. You need...a stress reliever. I can do that for you. If you're up for it, that is."

"A stress reliever?" You echo, and the way her eyes sparkle in the moonlight, her lips quirked up in a seductive smirk, her voice low and smooth, makes it abundantly clear what she's implying. Your cheeks flush and heat rushes through your body. This couldn't be real. Could it?

"I don't think we're on the same page. I mean, a...stress reliever. I don't know if I understand," you say, shifting uncomfortably.

"You're a bit slow, aren't you?" she asks a devilish grin stretching across her face, and, she's probably right. You feel like a fish out of water, opening and closing your mouth like an idiot. The worst part of it is, she seems to be enjoying your floundering, grinning wider as she watches you stutter.

"There's no need to worry," she purrs, taking a step closer, her dark eyes shining. "You just need to relax. It'll be fun."

The sane, rational part of your brain is screaming, yelling, begging for you to run out of the room. Anybody with half a brain could decipher that the sensible thing to do in this situation would be to flee, grab a weapon, and call the police. Yet, here you are, lying still, the woman's words ringing in your ears. Fun. It's been a long time since you've had fun. You can't even remember the last time you've gotten remotely close to it. And, as if she was sent from above, here was a beautiful, mysterious woman, offering it to you on a platter. You can't help but be a bit curious. Curious about the strange, magical feeling that's coursing through your veins.

Plus, your body is aching for touch, and the idea of sleeping with a beautiful woman is incredibly tempting, especially in your state. It's been months since you've had sex.

The woman takes a step closer, and your stomach does a flip. This is stupid. It's dangerous, and stupid, and it would be so easy to say no.

"You won't hurt me, right?" You ask, a nervous edge creeping into your voice.

"You'll enjoy every second we spend together," she says, her eyes stroking over you. Her gaze is so intense, her voice so soothing, all you want is to please her. You don't think. You no longer have the ability to. Your desire is too strong.

"What are you going to do?" you ask, the words tumbling out of your mouth.

"That depends on you," she says, her fingers brushing the edge of the duvet. "What would you like me to do?"

You look into her dark, all-consuming eyes, and shiver. Your blood feels like it's on fire. "I—um—whatever you had in mind."

Her eyes narrow, her lips curling up into a smirk. She leans in, her warm breath ghosting your lips. You can smell her perfume, the scent of vanilla and lavender assaulting your senses.

Your heart beats fast, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes your throat.

"Are you sure?" she says, her voice low. "You don't know what you're getting yourself into."

She's right. For all you knew, her idea of fun could include a knife and a casket. But you couldn't bring yourself to care, not when she's looking at you like that.

"I don't care," you say, your voice hoarse. "Do whatever you want with me."

The corners of her lips curl upwards, and her eyes twinkle with mischief. "Okay," she whispers, her voice soft and sweet.

She leans forward, her lips ghosting yours. You hold your breath, anticipating her next move. Her hand moves up to cup your cheek, her thumb rubbing small circles on your skin that send a tingle down your spine. You lean into the touch, and her smile widens. She tilts her head to the side, and presses a kiss to the corner of your lips. The contact is soft, tender, and sweet. Her lips are warm, and the touch is brief, but enough to ignite the flames within your veins. You gasp, moving your head to try to capture her lips with yours, and she chuckles, pulling away.

"You're so impatient," she says, her eyes gleaming. "Desperate, even."

Embarrassment creeps up on you, and you flush, averting your gaze. She laughs again, and grabs your chin, forcing you to look at her.

"Don't hide from me," she whispers, her voice soft. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

With her words, the fire within you flares, and the embers within your belly burst into an inferno. Your whole body is burning, yearning, and you can't help the sigh that escapes your throat. She hums, staring at you with her piercing gaze. You've never felt this exposed, so vulnerable, so completely bare in front of another person, and you are still partially clothed. She seems to be studying you, taking in every detail, memorizing the expressions on your face. She's looking at you like you're prey, a feast, and it should scare you, should make you tremble, but it doesn't.

"Kiss me," you murmur, and she obeys.

You let out a small gasp, and her lips curve into a smile against yours as you make contact. Your eyes flutter shut, and the warmth of her mouth almost sends you spiraling. The feeling is electric, like a bolt of lightning, and it sets every nerve ending within your body alight. Her tongue glides along your bottom lip, and you part them willingly, allowing her all of the access she desires. Her tongue is warm, and wet, and her kisses are intoxicating. She tastes sweet, like strawberries and vanilla, and you can't help but moan.

She pulls away, prompting an involuntary whimper from you."Is this what you wanted, y/n?"

"Yes—uh," you stop yourself, realizing that you still don't know her name.

"Bada," she supplies, as if reading your mind. She places a hand on your chest, and gently pushes you back onto the bed, her gaze locked on yours. You fall onto the mattress, your eyes wide.

"Bada," you repeat softly, tasting the name on your lips. Pretty.

She smiles and slips the blankets off of you. The cool air hits your skin, sending goosebumps along your arms and legs. You suck in a sharp breath, and her eyes rake over you, drinking in the sight.

"Beautiful," she whispers, her fingers tracing up your thigh.

She leans down to press a gentle kiss on your jaw. Her lips travel down your neck, and she bites at the sensitive skin, hard. A moan slips from your mouth, and she sucks and licks at the spot, soothing the sting. Her hand trails up the inside of your thigh, and her fingertips graze the band of your underwear. You arch your back, yearning for her touch.

"Please," you whimper again, and she giggles.

"At least you're polite," she says, biting down on your neck again.

Her teeth scrape against your skin, and you gasp, grabbing a fistful of her hair. You pull her closer, desperate to remove any shred of distance between the two of you. She groans, her nails digging into your thigh, her touch searing hot. She sucks at the tender skin below your collarbone, and you whine, heat pooling between your legs. It was a little humiliating, getting so worked up despite the fact that she's barely done anything, but it was hard not to when she's touching as if she wants nothing more than to devour you.

"So impatient," she purrs, her eyes gleaming. "So needy."

She kisses the mark she made on your neck, and you squirm, the pressure between your thighs growing.

Her fingers move higher, ghosting over your underwear, and you writhe under her touch, letting out a frustrated groan. She pulls away, a smirk on her lips.

"Something wrong?"

"You're fucking with me," you hiss, and she laughs out loud.

"Your impatience is cute," she says, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin on your neck, pausing where your heartbeat pulsed, right beneath your jaw. "Can't help it."

You watch as she moves her hand away from your neck, back to your underwear. Her fingers slip under the band of your panties, already dark and wet, and she runs them through your folds, spreading your already abundant slickness. You couldn't stand that you were so clearly proving her point about how needy you were, giving her more to make fun of you about, but how could you not be? It's been too long. and you don't know if it's ever felt this good this early on.

Your head falls back onto the pillow, and your hands clutch at the sheets, desperate for purchase. The feeling of her thumb brushing against your clit makes your hips buck up, and she pulls away to pull down your panties.

You shiver, the cool air hitting your exposed skin. She grabs your thighs, spreading them apart, and the anticipation nearly kills you on the spot.

"So pretty," she says, her voice filled with wonder.

She looks up at you, her eyes darker than before. She holds your gaze, and without breaking eye contact, ducks her head, and swipes her tongue along your slit.

A moan escapes your lips, and your back arches, your fingers threading through her hair. Her tongue moves in circles, and you feel her hands grasp at your thighs as you inadvertently try shut them close around her head. She spreads them further apart, and presses her mouth against your center, sucking on the bundle of nerves.

"F—fuck," you moan, your head thrown back, eyes shut.

She moans into you, the vibrations causing pleasure to erupt inside of you. You grip the sheets, the fabric crumpling underneath your fingers. She pulls away, and your eyes fly open, only to meet her intense gaze.

"Watch me," she whispers, her voice husky.

Your eyes snap to her face, and she smiles, her fingers trailing down your stomach. You squirm under her touch, and she grips your thighs, her eyes locked on yours. Her staring does something to you, makes the goosebumps rise on your skin, a funny feeling arise in your stomach. She presses her lips against the inside of your thigh, her eyes not leaving yours.

She slips a finger inside of you, and you gasp, the sudden intrusion causing a wave of pleasure to wash over your body. She curls her finger, and you arch your back, the friction driving you crazy.

"That's it," she purrs, adding another finger.

You throw your head back, moaning as she begins to thrust her fingers, moving in a steady rhythm. You clench around her fingers, and her eyes widen, a mischievous glint shining in her irises. You bite your lip, the pressure building, and she smirks, increasing the pace of her movements. She crooks her fingers, hitting a sensitive spot inside of you.

"Fuck," you cry out, and her lips curl upwards, pleased.

She leans forward, her lips capturing yours, her tongue invading your mouth. She swallows your moans, and you can feel her smiling against your lips. She pulls away, and rests her forehead against yours, her dark eyes boring into yours.

"Are you going to come for me, y/n?"

"Y-yes," you whimper, and she laughs, her hot breath fanning against your cheek.

She thrusts her fingers faster, and her thumb rubs against your clit, sending waves of pleasure throughout your body. Your breaths come out short and quick, and your head spins, the room spinning.

"Come on," she whispers, her voice low and sultry.

The pressure builds, and you can feel the edge coming. You gasp, your eyes shut, and your whole body tenses up, the pleasure rippling through your body. You let out a string of curses, and she slows her movements, riding out the aftershocks.

"That's it," she murmurs, her fingers leaving your core.

She trails her fingers up your torso, and leans down, her lips hovering above yours.

"Open up," she commands, her voice taking on a deeper cadence that makes you immediately obey. She pushes her fingers inside of your mouth, and your tongue dances around her digits, tasting yourself, a musky flavor that leaves you feeling lightheaded. She hums and removes her fingers, a trail of saliva connecting her digits to your mouth.

"Good." she whispers, her breath tickling your cheek.

Your eyes flutter shut, and your head spins. You're exhausted, and you almost feel as if you're about to pass out, but her praise and proximity sends a thrill through you, your heart fluttering at her words. She presses another soft kiss to your lips, allowing you to taste yourself on her tongue. She pulls away, a lazy smile on her face.

Through your exhaustion, you manage to meet her gaze again, and you nearly gasp. Her pupils had swollen, the dark brown of her eyes merely a slim ring around a black void, devoid of any color. You swallow hard, a slight panic rising within you as you suddenly remembering the reality of the predicament you're in. Or, was it even reality?

"W—what's happening?" you stutter, the words tumbling from your mouth.

She grins, and you realize for the first time that her teeth are razor sharp, looking as if they could tear your flesh to shreds.

"I'm taking care of you, that's what's happening, silly." she says, her voice taking on a sing-songy quality. Her hand trails down your side. "And I'm not quite finished, yet."

She leans down and captures your lips in another kiss so rough that it nearly bruises. You're still dizzy, the blood pumping through your veins, and your head still feels as if it's full of cotton. As soon as her hands meet your skin, your exhaustion and worry disappear, replaced by euphoria. She reaches under your shirt, her fingers dancing along your torso, and you moan, your mind foggy. You can't help the small sounds that escape from your lips as she touches you, her fingers tracing every curve, every angle, committing every inch of your body to memory. Soon, your top is tossed to the side, and her hands are exploring your bare skin. Her fingers run up your spine, and you shiver, goosebumps forming. She pulls away, and a whine falls from your lips, a sound that causes her to laugh.

"So easy to please," she teases.

"Sh-shut up," you protest weakly.

Suddenly, she grabs you by the waist, pulling you into her lap with an ease that catches you off guard. You're stunned into silence, and she wraps her arms around you, enveloping you in a tight embrace. You let out a yelp, and her nails dig into your skin, the sting making you bite back a groan. She places her chin on top of your shoulder, and her hands move lower, settling on your hips. She squeezes and forces your hips into a grind, her thigh meeting the apex of your legs. Your eyes flutter shut, a wave of heat pooling between your legs, a warmth filling the pit of your stomach, a small moan escaping your lips. She chuckles, her breath tickling the back of your neck.

"Fuck," you choke out, the embarrassment clear in your tone as you continue to your center against the smooth skin of her thigh.

"You're funny," she murmurs with a smile, and presses a kiss on your cheek.

A blush creeps onto your cheeks, and you hide your face, burying it into her neck. You inhale deeply, her scent filling your nose. She still smells so sweet, like dessert, and you want to lick her, devour her, but instead, you press your lips to her skin, and she moans, gripping your hips hard enough to leave a mark.

"God, you're so beautiful," she whispers, her nails digging into your hips. "So, so pretty."

You moan, the heat between your legs intensifying. Her words go straight to your core, and you can't help the small, high-pitched whine that leaves your mouth, a sound you'd be ashamed of if not for the fact that you can't think, can't focus, can't even process her words.

One of her hands slips around your waist, grabbing at the bare flesh of your ass. Your breath hitches, and she pulls you closer, her mouth finding the spot on your neck that drives you wild. Her teeth scrape against your skin, and her tongue laps at the hollow of your collarbone, the sensation eliciting a loud moan. You tilt your head, allowing her access, and her mouth moves downward, to your breast, her tongue circling one of your nipples. Your eyes squeeze shut, the tension in your abdomen mounting. It was overstimulating, her thighs, the way her tongue felt against you, the way her fingers squeezed at the flesh of your ass, the way her hands explored the planes of your body, and it was all too much.

"I'm gonna—" you start, and her hand moves between your legs, pressing her fingers against your throbbing clit.

You let out a cry, the orgasm hitting you hard, the intensity somehow stronger than before. Her fingers slide easily against you, and you clench around her, the waves of pleasure washing over your body.

She lets out a soft sigh, and she pulls away, her black eyes meeting yours. You don't care enough to feel frightened this time though, being so flooded with exhaustion that you collapse back onto the bed, barely able to keep your eyes open. Sharp, short breaths escape from your lips, and a numbness starts to spread throughout your limbs, a strange calm settling over your body that you've never felt before. Somewhere in the back of your brain, alarm bells are going off, but they're drowned out by a heavy sleepiness that takes over you.

"Go back to sleep, Y/N." she says, her voice distant, muffled. "It's alright."

You can feel the weight of the world bearing down on your shoulders, and the bags under your eyes seem to grow heavier and darker with every passing second. It has been a very long time since you were last able to sleep properly. You wanted to talk to Bada more, but you can feel yourself beginning to lose control, your mind going blank and your muscles becoming weak.

"Bada..." you mumble, her name rolling off your tongue.

Before you can further speak, the darkness seeps into your mind, and you allow yourself to succumb. But, the feeling that accompanies you into sleep is an uneasy one, a cold sensation wrapping itself around your body like a snake squeezing the life out of its prey.

"Good night," Bada whispers, the words echoing in the darkness, the sound fading into nothingness.

#bada lee #bada lee fanfic #bada lee x reader #bada lee x y/n #swf2 #street woman fighter 2 #bada lee imagine #bada lee smut

260 notes · View notes

chanandlersstuff · 5 months

Text

Bubble and Moose, pt 2.

Pairing: Hayden Christensen x Reader.

Summary: The timeline of how Hayden gradually fell in love with her until he was madly in love, to the point of no returning.

Word count: 13.036

Warnings: Not much actually, age-gap, a slow burn and a "steamy" part.

Author’s note: Hello again, thanks a lot for the paitence and the love I've been reciving. I strugle a lot with writing when I don't have the right motivation and that was what happened with this part, I had it for months but only one part was missing and it didn't feelt right to post it.

With that being said, I'm nor sure, but there will be two more parts to this story and I will gladly recive request of what could happen or what you want to see, on the comments or in messages. The timeline will span until the press from Ashoka serires.

gif credit @hayden-christensen

← Previous part

December 2020, that time of the year.

December was the month of festivities, everyone knew that. It was the time to make your house feel cosy and prepare for the celebrations of Christmas and New Year's with your family. Hayden watched as Bubble struggled to set up her Christmas tree, and he couldn't help but laugh at her failed attempts.

“You are not being very supportive right now, Moose,” she said, playfully scolding him.

“Sorry.” He chuckled. “But this is really funny.”

She dropped the lights, that were around her, in frustration and glared at him. “How so?”

“You look like one of those elves from Rise of the Guardians with the lights all around you.” He kept laughing, his eyes shut tight as he crouched from his laughter.

Hayden’s masculine laugh was so contagious that she started laughing too. He had a point, she did look like one of those elves in the tangle of lights and limbs.

She was so concentrated on the talk that they were having while she tried to fix the mess she made at the beginning of the year when she took all the ornaments down, she ended up making a bigger mess and got caught in the middle.

While they kept laughing, she almost fell and that was when his laugh died. "Please don't bash your head on the floor, Bubble." He said looking at her a little bit worried.

"Relax, I'll be careful." She said, grabbing the arm of the sofa to brace herself as she walked to her seat and worked on the mess of lights. "You already put up your tree?"

"No, Bri and I will put up together next week when she stays here, so I'm waiting for her." The soft smile on his lips when he talked about his beloved daughter made her smile too.

The conversation kept going as she kept fighting with the lights making him laugh. "What are you going to do for the special day?”

“It’s my turn to host this year, so we are going to celebrate here.” He shrugged. “You?”

“At my sister’s but it’s a tradition that the kids come here to look for their presents, so that’s why I’m currently an elf tangled in lights.” She giggled and he smiled at the sound. “New year’s is my turn to be a hostess.”

They kept talking, telling each other what they planned to buy their respective families and every little nonsense that passed through their minds.

Finally, Christmas arrived and Hayden and Briar were sitting criss-crossed on the floor ready to open the presents, his parents watching them with a smile on their faces. The little girl had a bunch of presents around her, opening one by one with sparkles in her eyes.

“I think this one you are going to love.” In his hand, he had the package he had received a couple of days before and a big smile on his lips.

With all the excitement of the world, Briar opened the present and squealed with delight. In her hands were an Anastasia book and a tiara. “I love it!”

Hayden laughed, “Want me to put on the tiara?” The little girl nodded excitedly.

“Thank you, Daddy,” she hugged him.

But he shook his head, embracing her. “It wasn’t me, Bri.”

“Was it a Bubble?” He smiled, nodding. “Send her a picture, Daddy, and thank her for me!” Hurriedly the little girl posed with the book, the tiara on her head and a big smile on her lips for him to take a pic.

Obeying quickly he took the pic and when he was about to send it, Briar put a present on his lap. “Open it, it’s from Bubble too cause it has the same wrapping.”

Delicately, he pulled the wrapping paper off and immediately laughed at the packaging. “Oh God.” Briar was jumping up and down to see what it was so he gently took the present out of the box and showed it to her, making her laugh too.

In his hands was a spatula with the face of Darth Vader and the handle was a lightsaber and to put a cherry on top a matching apron that resembled Darth’s uniform. They were all giggling but his attention was on the note inside the box.

To take your cooking skills to the dark side, but not too much cause it’ll burn. Happy Christmas Moose and Princess, wishing you all the best and lots of tasty food.

With love, Bubble.

“Come on Daddy, take another photo.” Briar pulled from his hand and he, being such a girl dad, did as she said.

As father and daughter posed, everyone around them was interested in who this Bubble was and why she had them smiling so much.

Her phone rang in her pocket, pulling her away from her conversation.

Hayden M

Photo

She loves it and says thank you very much

A smile appeared on her lips when she saw the photos. In the first one, Briar was posing very princess-like with the book and the tiara in her head. The second one was a father-daughter selfie, Hayde was showing very proudly his spatula while Briar hung from his chest. The third one made her heart warm, and her knees buckled a little if she was honest. Hayden poses with the apron with a big smile looking directly at the camera.

It was my pleasure, truly

By the third photo, I’ll assume you liked yours

Of course, we find it very funny.

I accomplish my mission then

And you? Did you like yours?

I’m going to open it as soon as I arrive home with the kids

Cause it’s tradition that we open our presents together

True to her word, as soon as she arrived at her house the kids ran towards the tree dragging her with them. “Come on, hurry up!” Daniel kept pulling from her hand, making her laugh. While Brianna and Daniel were sitting around the tree piling up their presents and opening them, their parents and she were sitting on the couch eating snacks and chatting.

In the sweetest way ever, Bri put a box with wrapping paper of bubbles in different colours and sizes, probably chosen by Briar, on her lap. “From…” Her sister peeked over her shoulder.

“Not your business.” She stuck her tongue out to her as she pulled the box closer to her chest, making them all laugh.

Delicately, she pulled the paper off and an immediate smile appeared on her face. Hayden’s gift was perfect, a beautiful frame with a Singin’ in the Rain phrase, tracing the edges she read. “The show must go on!' Come rain, come shine, come snow, come sleet, the show must go on!”

He remembered their conversation all those months ago and that made her happy, and a little teary. In the back, it had a note that kept the smile on her lips. He’s too fucking sweet.

“Someone special?” Her sister asked.

The smile on her lips was answering the question itself, but she just shrugged. If her concentration wasn’t on her phone, she would have seen the looks between her sister and brother-in-law.

Bubble

Best present ever

Seriously?

You liked it?

Love it

You are the best present giver

I guess by the wrapping paper that Briar had something to do with it too

Yeah, she hand-picked it and all

Photo

Hayden opened the photo and smiled. It was a selfie of her with a big smile, to the point her eyes were almost closed, and behind her the frame on a big bookshelf.

Already placed in the important part of my house

Love the big smile, looks amazing on you

And I’m very happy that you like it

January 2021, you and me from the night before.

First day of a new year, the first hours technically. Hayden was coming back from celebrating with Briar at her mom’s house when an idea appeared in his head, so a little detour from his house was due.

He parked his car and took a deep breath, drumming his fingers against the wheel. What are you doing Hayden? The clock on the dashboard reads 01:55 AM. Grabbing his phone, he went to his contact and bit his lip nervously.

Should I go in or is it too much? I don’t need to walk up there, maybe it's better if I just wish her a happy new year with a call. Hayden's gaze shifts to Bubble's house, where he can see the faint glow of lights through the windows. He takes a deep breath, contemplating his decision. Fuck it.

One beep, two beeps, thre-. “Hello Hayden, hi!” Her cheerful voice reached his ears.

“Hi, Bubble.” It was impossible for him to not smile. “How’s everything?”

The noise died down a little, “Amazing, how was your night with the Princess?”

“Very good, she had a blast and used the tiara as a part of her outfit.” They laughed. “Listen,” she hummed. “Are you home?”

“Yeah, we are all here, the kids asleep.” Hayden's heart races as his idea of seeing her possibly come true.

“Can you possibly…” he drummed his fingers against the wheel again “Step outside for a bit?” I'll go and wish her a happy new year, just like any friend would, just that.

“Outside my house?” She asked, confused.

“Yeah…” Instead of an affirmative response, it sounded more like a question.

“Sure, give me a second. I have to grab shoes.” She said quickly.

The possibility of hugging Bubble, feeling her warmth and sharing a moment of celebration, made his heart race for some reason. Hayden glances at himself in the rearview mirror, adjusting his appearance, making sure he looks presentable before stepping out of the car. As soon as his feet touched the pavement, he took a moment to steady himself before walking towards Bubble's front door. As he made his way there, his heart was pounding with anticipation.

When she opened the door, a mixture of surprise and delight washed over her face, Bubble stepped outside her house with two glasses in her hand. The second they saw each other a smile instantly spread across their faces.

She looks absolutely beautiful. Simple tailored black pants hugged her waist with a corset with sparkly details and embroidered patterns, her hair was free and slippers were on her feet. Her lips with wine stains that gave them a particular colour that made her even more beautiful in his eyes.

"You didn't have to come all the way here, Hayden. You could have just called me," Bubble said, her voice filled with warmth.

They closed the distance between each other. "I wanted to see your face," Hayden replied, his eyes sparkling with affection. “And wish you a happy New Year."

Bubble's eyes softened, and she couldn't help but smile. “I wanted to see your face too.” Putting the glasses down, Bubble pulls Hayden into a warm embrace without hesitation.

Hayden's worries melted away as he held Bubble tightly, feeling the warmth of her embrace, his hand gently tangling in her hair as she rested her face on his chest. Her jasmine scent hit his nose and made his knees tremble a little. Oh how fucking much he had missed that smell, her smell.

Maybe it was all the wine in her blood and how fucking gorgeous he looked under the lights on her porch, but she snuggled against his chest, the rhythm of his heartbeat syncing with hers. They stood there, wrapped in each other's embrace, savouring the quiet and tender moment.

After who knows how long they, against everything their feelings screamed at them, pulled away from each other, but not too much. Maybe two feet away from each other, not much.

“Let’s just toast.” Quickly she grabbed the glasses and gave him one with a wink. “Don’t worry, it’s kids' champagne.”

Hayden laughed, making her smile more. “Always thinking about everything.”

“To what we toast?” She pursed her lips.

He mugged her, pursing his lips. “To... friendship?” Friendship? Really? Are you an idiot Hayden?

She groaned, tilting her head back, “Oh, come on, Moose. We can do better than that.” Her tone teasingly.

Hayden chuckles, realising Bubble's playful challenge. He took a moment to think, his eyes dancing across her features and involuntarily he took a step closer to her again. “To taking chances.” He asked softly.

Bubble's eyes lit up and she took a step closer to him too, her voice filled with warmth. “I like it.” Moving her glass towards his she smiled, “To taking chances, and embracing the unexpected.”

They clinked their glasses together, the sound echoing in the quiet night. As they sipped, their eyes locked, a mix of anticipation and affection passing between them.

How beautiful her eyes look under these lights. “I'm glad I took the chance to come here tonight, Bubble.”

She smiled bigly, “Me too, Hayden. I missed seeing you in person.” It was as if her hands had a mind of their own, or they were led by her heart because she hugged him again. He didn’t oppose and rested his cheek on top of her head as her arms circled around his waist.

March 2021, jealousy? Jealousy.

Hayden was at the coffee shop near her office, ready to pay for their breakfast when a hand beat him to it. “What the-'' Ready to turn around to face the owner of the money, the sweet voice he heard even in his dreams reached his ears and that hand he was dying to have intertwined against his own appeared on his line of vision. She was standing by his side with a smile on her lips. Oh how much I missed that smile. “I was going to pay for that, you know.”

She put the change in the tip jar “Well hello to you too, Hayden” and moved out of the way.

“Bubble.” He smiled at her and she did not only smile back but kissed his cheek too. Oh how soft her lips were but how ephemeral the sensation was on his skin. Come back, come back and kiss me all over again so I can cherish it properly.

His eyes fell on her outfit. Blue Converse, black tailored pants and a black tank top with a big light blue shirt on top.

I have a similar shirt. He couldn't contain his brain from creating the scenario of her with bed hair, his shirt, nothing underneath and her sweet smile.

It took Hayden a few minutes to come back to the real world but when he did, he just cleared his throat and blinked a few times. “You didn’t have to.”

But she simply shrugged. “It was our breakfast, let me treat you, Moose.” Our breakfast, how sweet.

The opportunity to tease her was right there. “How do you know it was our breakfast?” He asked with a brow raised.

She put an offended look on her face. “You go around buying every girl breakfast?” Her hand travelled to her chest where her heart was. “I’m wounded. And here I was, thinking I'm special.”

You are special. I only bought breakfast for you. And Briar and my mum and maybe my sisters if I’m in a good mood. “Cocky much?” They laughed.

After ten minutes or so, they got their order and jumped into his car to drive the rest of the way to her office. She talked all the way while he basked in her presence, her jasmine scent invading his nostrils, hoping it would stay on his car, and how clear her voice sounded in person. After Facetiming for months, her clear sweet voice was music to his ears. Having her close to touch was divine to him. That magic moment at the beginning of the year had left him wanting for more, wishing for more.

The scene was so fucking domestic, so cute. They were riding to work together, her attention on him, her body angled in a certain way that the sun hit her in the eyes and even though the visor was down her height prevented it from properly functioning.

As soon as they reached the studio’s garage he opened the car door for her, every door that came their way actually, as the gentleman he was, and talked a little bit about everything on their way to her office.

“Hello, you two.” Charlie’s voice brought them back to the real world. “Nice to see you again, Hayden.” The boy smiled her way, “Boss” and shared what seemed to be a knowing look with her. From the corner of his eyes, and above her height, he saw how a pink colour adorned her cheeks, it suited her.

She placed a coffee in front of the boy and rolled her eyes. Did she always carry that extra coffee? I was so lost in her face that I didn't notice the extra cup? Trying to not think much about it, a little scared of the answer, Hayden followed her to the office.

For some reason her office still lacks photos, it was more personal than, almost, two years ago that was for sure, but still no photos. The drawings were there, the video camera too, even the jasmin- she stopped in her tracks and he almost crashed against her. “Sorry, Bubble.” He said with his hands on her waist. Her look was fixed on the little desk where the jasmines were supposed to be but instead, there were red roses on it. He tilted his head to the side confused. “Are you okay?”

She nodded but he didn’t buy it because she was looking at those flowers like they were carnivorous and in any second they would eat her. His hands were still on her waist and for some reason, drew soft circles there, on top of her clothes, and that seemed to bring her back to the real world. Taking a deep breath she got close to them, but not too close, just to grab the card that was peeking from them.

His blue eyes watched her attentively as her nose was scrunched, which only meant that she didn’t like flowers. “Friend?” The curiosity was killing him. Who was sending her flowers she clearly didn’t like?

To her scrunched nose, add pursed lips and a bored look on her face. “Ex actually.” She said through gritted teeth.

“Still in touch, so civil.” He mumbled taking a sip of his cup. Why did you say it when it was clear that wasn’t the case? Are you jealous?

The offended look on her face was not fake that time. “Not even close.” The card on her delicate fingers was made a ball and went directly to the bin below her desk. “I don’t know why he sent them.” Her reaction had him raising his eyebrows. Was she mad? That was her mad face? She purses her lips when she’s mad? She’s so fucking cute when she’s mad. “Charlie, can you come here and take something away please?” She said through the phone.

The dad alarm on his brain, the one that told him when something was wrong or something was dangerous, went off. “Are you allergic?” He said quickly getting up from his seat and walking towards her, stepping between the flowers and her, looking attentively at her face in case she stopped breathing suddenly and stretching his hands to take her from her forearms, afraid she would fall.

She frowned at him but with a smile on her lips. “No, I’m not.” Her hands were on his forearms too. “Relax, I’m okay.”

He looked at her just to be sure and then to the flowers right when Charlie entered. “They are pretty.” It was true, they were, but Hayden preferred jasmine.

“I guess.” She shrugged and both of them looked at her confused. “I actually don't like them.” The brunette frowned his brows. “They are too cliché for me.” Hayden laughed and she did it too, still holding onto each other.

The moment that was created around them would become a core memory, the sunlight entering through the window illuminating the space, the synchronised laughing, the warmth of the other’s hands on their skin and, as if they were fifteen all over again, the racing hearts with flushed cheeks.

His laugh died a little earlier than hers and her laugh was melodic to him, even though it wasn’t. How beautiful you are laughing in my arms.

Nothing broke the moment, it died down on its own. Slowly, almost reluctantly, they let go of each other and kept having breakfast. Ewan came at some point to see her, to discuss something about timing and stayed with them chatting.

“How’s the Jedi training?” She asked, looking at them.

“Wonderful.” “Really fun.” They said at the same time and she smiled happily. “You should come, you know,” Hayden added and Ewan agreed but her head was tilted to the side, frowning. “To see how everything is going.”

“Oh yeah, I will go around one of these days but you are not going to make me train.” She warned the two of them, pointing a finger. “I do not train, under any circumstances.” The pair laughed and nodded. Hayden was with them, her, until it was time to do the wardrobe fitting so he left them to discuss their important matters.

Trying the Jedi robes again, the saber in his belt, every little second of that process of putting on and taking the costumes made him extremely emotional. Going back to being Anakin put him on a roller coaster of emotions and now, more like for a while, he had to throw into the mix the feelings he was having for her. To say his heart had been going through a lot lately was an understatement.

The fitting was finished and he was walking through the studios, going back to her office, to see if she wanted to have lunch with him when he bumped into Ewan. “Hey, how did it go?”

They walked side by side. “Good, lots of memories.”

The Scottish nodded. “Yeah, tell me about it.” They laughed. “The sabers and everything, it’s amazing.” The brunette nodded. “I felt like a kid all over again.”

Hayden felt the exact same way, not only because of all the filming and reminiscing but with his feelings. He was a fifteen-year-old with a massive crush again, her mere presence around him made him smile like a boy and felt light. Thinking about her and there she was, standing a few metres away from them talking with someone.

Whatever his dear friend was saying didn’t reach his ears because his attention was solemnly on her, like always. She looked uncomfortable, her body language screamed it and he noticed it right away, even if her back was towards him. She wasn’t facing directly at the person in front of her, her arms were crossed and she kept looking around, like searching for something, for someone. Who’s that? He stopped walking to inspect the scene, and Ewan stopped a few steps ahead of him.

“Who’s that?” Hayden interrupted his friend, who looked where he was looking and shrugged. “That one, right there. Who is it?” His eyes were fixed on the guy in front of her, too close to her for his liking, and that kept trying to get her attention.

“Don’t know.” Ewan shook his head “Why?” and raised an eyebrow looking at him.

But the question fell on deaf ears because Hayden kept looking towards her and when her eyes connected with his, his protective side emerged. She seemed relaxed as soon as he found him but a second later she raised her eyebrows, opened her eyes wide and then looked back at the guy in front of her. Walking past his friend, he went directly towards where she was.

He stood tall, making him seem taller than he already was, chest puffed and chin raised. In a few strikes he was standing behind her, his hand found his rightful place on her back and she relaxed against him as soon as he arrived. “You alright?” His tone was low for her to only hear, his breath ghosting in her neck, but no response came and instead only a few seconds' look from her that clearly indicated that it wasn't the case. “We were looking for you, are you ready to go?” He said a little louder.

The guy in front of them shut up the second Hayden arrived, but he didn’t pay attention to him. His eyes were on her and only her. Please tell me if something is bothering you. “Hey, I’m Tyler.” The guy stretched his hand towards him.

Blue eyes looked at him up and down and kept staring him down. “Hayden.” Oh, how he wished that his voice mimicked Vader’s at that moment because it would, for sure, make the idiot in front of him fear him, but a strong grip would do the work. All that with his left hand was still on her back and her jasmine scent calming him down, her warmth keeping him centred.

She looked up and gave him a tiny smile. “Tyler was leaving and so were we.” We, as in her and me. Not you dude. “Goodbye.” She didn’t wait for an answer and turned around, walking in another direction. Leaving him missing her closeness.

Hayden stood there, for a few seconds, still staring him down with a serious look on his face. The only moment he didn’t look at him was when his eyes landed on the nearest exit and then slowly looked back at the guy. Take the hint and walk away. Not wasting more time he followed her, leaving the guy behind, where he was supposed to be.

When he reached her side, his eyes raked her up and down, searching for some bad thing. “Are you okay?”

“Yes, Hayden. I'm fine." The soft use of his name grounded him. Say my name again, say it a thousand times, say it in French.

He nodded. "Who was he by the way?"

Her mad face became present in an instant. "My ex." She turned around to look at where he used to be.

"The roses guy?" A frown appeared on his face and she nodded. "What did he want? What was he doing here?" The protective mode was on again.

She looked back at him, with a tiny smile and her head tilted to the side. "He came to a casting and wanted to say hi or something like that, I don't know and I don't care." Her tone was firm, "I'm just glad you came and he is gone" but the softness of those words was something else.

You want me to die? You surely want me to have a heart attack. Unnoticed by him, the smile that appeared on his lips was worthy of an obvious fool in love and his hand almost cupped her face.

The cute moment was broken when her phone started ringing, he took a step back and let her answer. How close were they standing to each other? His mind was racing, his heart was racing and, being honest, he needed those few minutes without her near to properly be a functioning human being again and not a fool led by his feelings.

"I got to go, there are a few things I need to take care of at the office. But I came to see how the fitting went." She played with the phone on her fingers.

How sweet. "Great, lots of feelings." That’s an understatement.

Her hand travelled to his bicep "Tell me over lunch?" and gave it a little squeeze with a smile on her lips.

Caught by surprise, he raised his eyebrows, and before she could back down he nodded. "Of course, yeah." They smiled. "My treat though, cause you already paid for breakfast, Bubble."

"Deal." She said laughing, he did too.

His eyes followed her while she walked away, a smile on their lips and Ewan approached him with a smirk on his lips. "Well, I didn't know you were the jealous type."

"What?" He gave her one last look before turning to his friend, blue eyes with clear confusion, who had a flat look on his face. “I’m not jealous.” Hayden shook his head frowning. “I’m being absolutely reasonable, she looked uncomfortable so I went there to help." He defended himself with a tone a little higher than his normal one.

The Scottish, with his hands in his pockets, raised his shoulder and pursed his lips. "Sure, she looked uncomfortable, but admit you were jealous."

The brunette pursed his lips too. "I wa-”

"And you were a little protective too." He interrupted him.

"Wha-”

"I get it." Ewan shrugged again. "I would be the same way with my wife if something like that happened."

He frowned. “What? Who talked about marriage?” His mind was racing at 100mph.

But his friend laughed. “Look at you all worked up.” Even though Hayden tried to deny it, Ewan kept laughing. “You are so jealous.”

“Am not!” Am I? No, not at all.

“Yes you are, and to that add the worst liar for being an actor too.” His friend slapped him on his shoulder and walked away. Leaving Hayden standing there while he felt like his friend slapped him with facts left and right in the span of seconds.

Jealous? Me? Pff. Never. But wait, maybe I am. No, I can't be. Definitely not jealous. She looked uncomfortable with that guy and I did what I thought best, just that. Nothing more.

May 2021, little intruders on set.

The shooting started a few weeks ago, but Hayden was going to keep training for the fighting scenes, determined to make them perfect.

The day was almost coming to an end and he didn’t see her at any given moment, her too engrossed in filming and him with the training. So, he was making his way to his office, to see her at least for a few minutes.

“Hello, Charlie.” The boy behind the desk smiled at him. “Is she inside?”

“Yes, go.” Charlie had a mischievous smirk on his lips, but he paid no mind to it.

Walking a few metres from the reception to her office, he could hear the happy squeals from inside and her characteristic laugh. After knocking on the door, it died down. “Come in,” Her sweet voice said.

As soon as he set his feet inside, surprise gasps received him. “Anakin.” Being recognized as Anakin never fails to make him happy, after all, it was a character he held dear to his heart.

Sitting in the middle of the office, papers and coloured pencils scattered around the floor, were two kids, a boy and a girl, looking at him in awe. He looked at them with a smile on his face and walked further inside the room.

With them, sitting with her legs tangled was with one of her big happy smiles. “Kids, Hayden.” She caressed the heads of the little kids. Oh, what a sight. “Hayden, Brianna and Daniel.” They were looking at him with big eyes in awe.

They were quickly standing up and he crouched down a little in front of them to look at their eyes, he extended his hand. “Nice to meet you guys.” They shook it quickly. “I heard so much about you two.”

From up close, they looked identical. “Really?” They asked at the same time.

“Yeah, your aunt talks all the time about both of you.” He could see how she smiled at the scene. Brianna blushed at that and Daniel smiled happily. “Are you visiting the set?” The pair nodded. “And? What do you think?”

“Amazing,” Brianna said. “Everything is incredible,” Daniel looked at him as if he was a superhero.

Hayden saw her getting up and extended his hand to help her. When she was on her feet, he pulled her closer to hug her, the scent of jasmine in her hair invaded his nostrils. “Bubble.”

Her soft giggle reached his ears. “Moose.” The nickname made him laugh. “What are you doing here?”

They stood close, the two kids looking at them with eyes opened big. “I didn’t see you today, so I came to say hello.” He wanted so badly to move the loose strand of hair out of her face.

“Did you know that she used to have a poster of you in her room?” Daniel said, looking at him with curious eyes.

“Really?” Hayden raised an eyebrow, teasingly, at her and the little boy nodded.

“I was a kid.” She tried to act as if it was cool but the blush that started creeping to her cheeks gave her away, “Where did you get that?” and looked at the twin surprised.

“Mum told us,” Brianna said, still looking at Hayden.

“Why that doesn't surprise me.” He heard her mumble under her breath, that close they were. “What else did she tell you?”

“That you were a nerd.” The little girl said, raising her shoulders nonchalantly.

Her mouth fell agape. “I was not!” She said offended.

But the little boy nodded. “She said you were.”

Hayden was finding the whole exchange hilarious. “Your mother was a cheerleader, of course to her I was a nerd but I wasn't.” She crossed her arms, like a little girl when she was mad.

“You kinda are.” Brianna looked at her with a puppy eye look and Hayden laughed, she had to bite the inside of her cheek to not laugh too.

She crouched down to look at them, “I'm the one who can get you free tickets to Disneyland and conventions, so if I were you I would think my next words very carefully.” and narrowed her eyes threateningly, it was clear it was a joke by how much she was pressing her lips to not laugh.

The kids looked at each other for a few seconds “You are our favourite aunt” and said with sweet smiles on their lips, too sweetly.

She pressed her lips to not laugh. “Say that your father's sister and we are cool.”

They shook hands. “We always say that to her.”

Hayden laughed at the conversation. “You two are my favourites.” She kissed their heads.

“Now go with Charlie.” The twins happily obliged. “And don’t cause havoc!” She said, popping her head out of the office.

After exchanging some words with Charlie she looked back at him for a few seconds and then at the grown.

He waited for a few seconds but the need to tease her beat him. “So....you were a nerd.”

A groan left her lips and he couldn't hold the laugh that escaped him. “No, I wasn't.”

“What were you then?” Tell me about you, I want to know everything.

Nonchalantly, she pursed her lips “Normal” and walked towards the mess of papers and pencils on the floor.

“You were one of those that get along with everyone?” He raised an eyebrow and helped her pick everything up.

But she shook her head “Far from it,” making him frown “but I didn't stand out so it didn't matter.”

Impossible. “I highly doubt you didn't stand out, but okay.” She rolled her eyes. “If you were normal, what makes your sister say you were a nerd? Apart from being a Star Wars fan.”

The brunette picked up the pencils while she picked up the papers. “She was a cheerleader, everything apart from that was a nerd to her.”

“Come on...did you do cosplay?” His blue eyes were full of curiosity.

“No.” She shook her head.

“Dungeons and dragons?” Again, another shook off the head. “Maths tournament?”

She looked at him biting the inside of her cheek, a little embarrassed. “Champion for three years by my hand.”

He raised his eyebrows in surprise. “Impressive, very impressive.”

The fact that he wasn’t teasing her, or making fun of her, made her visibly relax “I know” and a smug smile appeared on her lips.

“Theatre?” Different departments of his school years popped into his brain.

“Had to.” The frown on his brows made her explain. “I can't act to save life, but I had to do it so I could gather experience.” He nodded understandingly. “I acted in a play as a tree once though.”

They laughed. “The most beautiful tree for sure.” It escaped his mouth too fast for him to even think what he was saying. But it’s true. The blush on her face made him smile proudly. “The yearbook?”

“No, but I had a friend that was there and I went to help him out sometimes.” He passed her the pencils “Thank you” and she smiled at him.

“The band?” He got up and helped her stand up too.

The tingles from hugging her minutes ago were still there and touching her hand for a second time, even for a few fleeting seconds, made his knees weak. Teenager behaviour Hayden.

She shook her head. “I can't even play the triangle.” They laughed.

“I’ll teach you to play the piano, sometime.” He winked and she blushed. She leaned on the table and he stood in front of her, their height difference more prominent. And he loved every second of it. “Any sport?” He asked, looking down at her.

Her lips pursed, while she nodded. “Gimnastic, three years.” Flexible, that’s interesting.

Horny behaviour, Hayden. Shaking his head to get rid of the inappropriate thoughts. He asked again. “You have a thing for number 3?”

But she looked curiously at him, for a few seconds, tilting her head to the side. “It's my lucky number.” She shrugged.

Hayden paid attention to her outfit. White simple long-sleeve t-shirt, showing off the curves of her torso, green cargo pants, that fitted her well in the waist and her Doc Martens. He loved her style, since day one.

“Back to school topic,” she nodded, “you weren't a nerd.”

“Told you,” she said in a singing tone, making him roll his eyes. “I just went there, passed grades as fast as I could to finish and got the hell out of that place to go to university and do what I like.”

He looked around her office. “Seems like you are doing it.”

A smile appeared on her lips. “The crazy little Star Wars fan that I was would have jumped on the couch the moment someone told her this is what she was going to do when she grew up."

He laughed at the idea of a mini her jumping all over the place. “I would have loved to meet her.” His tone was so soft, almost like the way she was looking at him. “More than anything because of my poster on her bedroom wall.”

She groaned, hiding her face in her hands, “Oh god” and he laughed, pulling her into his embrace. It was a natural response, the magnetic feeling in between them was too much to deny it. The need to have her in his arms, just like at the beginning of the year, was stronger than his critical thinking.

Unknown to him, the deep sound of his laugh, the way his chest moved against her cheek and the way he was holding her, all made her weak on the knees. The mix of his perfume and cigarette drove her straight to her wildest dreams, that took place on that specific July night but the only difference was that they were under the same roof, in person. Close enough to tear each other's clothes.

He was coming down from his laugh when he looked down at her, blushing adorning her cheeks, and she looked up at him. Your eyes are beautiful. Your smile is one of my favourite things in this world. A smile plastered on their faces.

“I'm going to kill my sister because those kids are too cute.” She said, still a little embarrassed about the poster incident.

Delicately, as if she was the most expensive work of art in the whole universe, he tucked that wild strand of hair behind her ear. “Don't change the subject.” You are still holding her, Hayden.

Your embrace makes me dizzy. After a few seconds, where she was lost in his eyes, trying so hard to not lean into his hand, she spoke again. “I already told you. I was a fangirl, what else do you want me to say?”

Everything about you used to do. You used to kiss the poster? I can kiss you now if you ask me. Technically, if I lean down a little, I coul- WHAT?!

“I thought you were a fan of the movies, not me.”

“Don't feel special Moose,” he raised an eyebrow. “I had a poster of Obi-Wan too.” She laughed at how he rolled his eyes.

“And that's how you kill the mood.” He acted offended and took a step back. Come back. Hold me again. Hold me for a million days. But they laughed.

“For real now,” she looked sincerely at him “I am a fan of the movies but you were my favourite of them all” and winked an eye.

That simple gesture, brain short-circuited him. “Thank you, Bubble.”

Feeling a little bold, she took a step closer to him, head tilted to the side. “And I used to have a massive crush on you.” Such a liar, you still have a massive school-girl crush for him.

If his brain was short-circuited, now there must be smoke coming from his ears. “Used to?” He choked out. Would you like to have it now? So that way I'm not the only one having a crush.

“Yeah,” she nodded. Is it me or suddenly we are in the sun? And his lips parted a little, her eyes falling there.

The cute, a little hot, scene was cut short by her phone ringing. “Shit.” She mumbled under her breath. “It’s Charlie, I gotta take it.”

He cleared his throat and said, “Yeah, yeah” nodding.

They talked for a few minutes, she even laughed a little and then hung up. “They are in the gift shop and Charlie is afraid they are going to try to buy the whole thing.” Hayden couldn't laugh at that. “I’m going to pick them up and take them home.”

“I’ll walk with you.” He said quickly. “I’m finished with the training for today, so I’m heading out too.”

She nodded “Yeah, okay” and pointed over her shoulder. “I’ll grab our things and we can head there.”

After a few minutes, they were walking out of her office. He held the door open for her, as usual. While they were walking around the set, they talked about their days and how they went.

The brunette found it extremely cute how she moved her hands while she explained something. Too absorbed in her storytelling and too focused on him, he hopped so, she didn't notice the golf cart coming behind them nor the prop guys in a hurry towards them, so swiftly Hayden put his hand on her back and swapped places with her.

She was walking on the wall side and him on the street side. His hand still ghosted on her back, guiding her around. The feeling of wanting to kiss her skin from that night in July still burns in his memory and now it was mixed with the closeness they were having. That definitely would hunt him in his sleep.

June 2021, girls team.

His day had started early, having been woken up by Bri due to her excitement for the day that awaited them. The little girl asked him like a hundredth time if she was finally going to meet the Bubble in person and each and every time he said yes with a smile on his lips.

“I can’t wait to see her,” Bri said as she jumped in the passenger seat.

Hayden chuckled, “I’m sure she feels the same, sweetie.”

And it was true. He had to carefully pick the day to bring her to the set and Bubble helped him, clearing the entire day to just shoot Anakin scenes. Briar was young, she still hadn't seen the dark parts of the Star Wars prequels, she knew her daddy was Darth Vader but had not seen it with her own eyes.

His heart beat with anticipation at the day they were about to have. Briar had been the centre of his universe since her birth, and bringing her to his workplace, to the one where he had to be his favourite character, the one he held most dear to his heart, felt like merging his two worlds.

As he was preparing for the upcoming scenes, sitting in the makeup trailer, with Briar spinning on the chair next to his, the familiar scent reached his nose first and then he saw her.

“Oh my!” She gasped. “Why did nobody inform me we have a princess on the set with us today?” Quickly her eyes met Hayden’s and gave him a fleeting wink before looking directly at the little girl.

There she was and a smile appeared on Hayden’s lip, just like in Briar’s.

“Bubble!” The girl smiled at her, Briar said with a glint in her eyes. As if she knew her from her whole, short, life, the girl jumped from the chair and hugged Bubble’s legs.

Her melodic laugh reached his ears as she caressed the little girl’s hair. “Hello Princess, it’s lovely to properly meet you.”

While the two of them talked, Hayden eyed her without the worry of being caught. She was wearing blue cargo pants, her characteristic Doc Martens, a black tank top, two braids keeping her hair tamed and a black cap to complete the outfit.

“Are you excited for today?” Bubble crouched down to Briar’s eye level and the girl nodded eagerly. “I have a very important task for you,” the girl’s eyes widened. “If you are up to it, that’s it.”

“Of course,” the little girl put her small hands on her shoulders, making the grown-ups laugh a little.

Oh, how sweet was the sight of that smile? “Splendid,” Bubble said. “Would you be my assistant director today?" she asked, her eyes twinkling.

Briar nodded enthusiastically and then looked at her father. “Did you hear Daddy?”

“Yes, sweetie,” Hayden nodded, smiling, something he seemed to not stop doing since the jasmine-scented woman walked through the trailer doors.

“Can I Daddy, can I?” She pleaded, even though she already agreed. “Please, pretty please.” She ran to him and clutched his legs.

Caressing softly her hair, which matched his in tone, “Of course, sweetie.”

Bubble’s heart melted in that instant; she had seen Briar grow through her cell phone screen during their daily Facetime, and seeing her in person, with Hayden treating her so gently, with so much love in his eyes, felt like witnessing the most tender and authentic moments of life, the kind that were too precious and real to be scripted. How I wish I had my camera here.

Without waiting for a second, Briar ran back to her and grabbed her hand. “Okay, I’m ready.” She nodded confidently and looked up at her smiling.

“Perfect,” Bubble touched her nose. “Mr Christensen here, has a little more time in the make-up chair?”

He scrunched his nose at how she called him. It sounded strange coming from her lips, he had been Moose for so long, Starboy prior to that, and Hayden in more personal moments, and he didn’t like to be called anything else than that. Okay, maybe one or two other ways far more personal, but never Mr Christensen.

“I think so, yes.” Briar nodded.

It was true, Hayden sat not long before she arrived and the process stopped entirely when she walked through the door, and he still had to pass through the wardrobe.

“You are correct, Miss Christensen,” he played along.

Bubble smiled widely at the situation. “Very well, we should be going to see if everything is prepared on set and we’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Mr Chistensen.”

He saw how hard she was trying to keep a serious face, how hard she was pressing her lips to not laugh and how with a simple raise of brow from his part almost made her burst in laughter.

“Very well,” he repeated. “I’ll see you when it’s time to shoot, Directors,” and reassured.

He saw them walk away hand in hand pleased and if it meant seeing the big smile on Briar and Bubble's faces, Hayden would play along for the rest of the day.

After another two hours, Hayden was finally making his way to the set and met Ewan there. “Where’s Bri?” The Scottish looked around.

He told her how his own daughter left him the second Bubble appeared, but rather than being sad, he found the whole thing funny and cute. Loving how despite Briar’s shy ways, much like him, she seemed to shine in the presence of the jasmine-scent-cheerful woman.

“Ah!” Ewan laughed. “Another Christensen falling for our Director’s sweetness I see.”

Before he could question what he meant by that, his eyes fell on the tall and small figures not too far from him, matching headsets around their necks, and as he walked closer he realised that the cap Bubble had when he saw her was no longer in her head but in Briar’s instead. Hayden watched them with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before, but he was sure it was there to stay for the whole day.

The pair pointed at them and Ewan clapped his back, bringing him back from the daydreaming, “Let’s go, they are calling us.”

“Here they are!” Bubble said with a smile on her lips. “Ewan, I want to present to you my number one assistant director, Briar Rose Christensen.”

His friend crouched down a little and shook his daughter’s hand. “Very pleased to meet you, Miss Christensen.”

“Hello,” his little girl sounded so confident and from up close he saw that she was carrying a badge with her name and the “Assistant Director N°1” on it.

His blue eyes found her’s and without uttering a word he conveyed what he was feeling at that moment with a soft smile and she seemed to understand because she smiled just the same and winked an eye again. Unknowingly to him, her hands itched to touch his arm just to make her point clear but chose to restrain from it and just bury them in her pockets.

Oh, how lovely it was to see them interact. How soft and attentive she’s with her, how Bri clings to her side, to her hand and every word that leaves her sweet lips. He witnessed how those two spoke during their daily Facetime, but seeing that in person, how easily they liked and shared things, was something far more beautiful.

They were about to start shooting their scene in the Jedi temple so everyone went to their positions, Hayden stayed back to kiss Bri goodbye for the moment. “Be the best Jedi knight out there, Daddy!” She called sweetly, warming his heart.

“Of course, sweetie.” He kissed her forehead and caressed her hair.

He locked eyes with Bubble and she gestured with her head to the side, making him follow her. “Yeah?”

“First,” she looked him up and down. “It’s really good to see you in Jedi robes,” her fingers traced delicately the black leather material from his sort of Jedi vest.

“Thank you,” he took a small step closer to her, wanting to feel her warm embrace as much as he could. “It feels good to wear them.”

She smiled at him and his knees trembled a little. Surely, it’s jitters from the scene, not for her sweet sweet smile.

“Second,” her voice brought him back. “Are you okay with me asking Briar to be my assistant and the headset thing?” He noticed the nervous ticks on her, and how she played with her nails. “I know it’s late for asking but I got carried away and I want to make the day memorable for her, and and-”

“Bubble,” delicately, he placed his big hands on her small shoulders, his touch calming her down instantly. “It’s more than okay.” He reassured her with a smile, “You are making her day, truly, she hasn’t stopped smiling for a second.”

“She has your smile,” she blurted. Incredible, girl. Tell him how you have his beautiful smile tattooed on your brain. Hayden chuckled and she smiled. Oh, that sweet sound.

He said something but he couldn’t register it, his heart racing too loud inside his chest due to her comment. And after a few seconds of trying to calm it down, he could finally be back to normal. “Relax, everything is fine, Bubble, you didn’t overstep at any moment.”

She exhaled relieved, but his thumbs kept caressing her shoulders softly, leaving a tingling sensation as they traced her skin. “I planned to let her call cut if that's okay with you?”

He smiled, nodding, “She would love it.”

Just like she asked him, Bubble offered the task to Briar as she knelt in front of her, always looking at her eye to eye. “Want to call cut when they finish filming the scene?”

Hayden had the front row to see how his little girl’s eyes shined at the proposition and eagerly she nodded, jumping at the chance. “Of course, yes!”

They all smiled and went to their positions, Ewan and Hayden to their marks while Bubble and Bri were behind the monitors.

From where he was standing, he caught the second she helped the little girl sit in her chair, the director’s chair, how she sat straight, proud to be there, and Bubble, standing next to her, guiding her gently, their heads close together as they discussed the scene while pointing at the screen.

It took him more than usual to get into character, being unable to stop smiling at the pair of girls, his heart beating out of his chest every time his clear eyes fell on them.

Concentrate, Hayden, for fuck’s sake. You are a professional, act like it. She’s your director, nothing more….maybe a dear friend, a very dear one. With a sweet smile and a jasmine scent that you could recognise anywhere, but surely nothing more.

"When I say 'action,' you watch your dad, and when he does that cool move we talked about, you get to yell 'cut!'," Bubble instructed. Briar's role was serious business, and she performed it to perfection, her small voice shouting "Cut!" at the perfect moment confidently, causing the crew to applaud, her father more proudly than anyone there.

In the brief moments between takes, where the crew milled around adjusting equipment and discussing the next scenes, Hayden and Briar found themselves enjoying a moment together, by the monitors, catching up.

Briar was eating her favourite snack, strawberry yoghurt with chocolate cookies, that were suddenly available on set, a thoughtful gesture that didn't go unnoticed by Hayden, as she swung her legs back and forth, her small feet not reaching the ground. Her eyes, wide and observant, had been taking in every detail of the vibrant set, but it was the moments spent with Bubble that seemed to captivate her the most.

"Dad, she's more beautiful in person!" Briar exclaimed with that child-unfiltered honesty, her voice a whisper of awe and fondness for the woman.

Hayden glanced over to where Bubble was standing with a couple of the crew, discussing the next shot. The afternoon light filtered through the high windows, casting a halo around her, softening her features and highlighting her gentle expressions.

His eagerness from the year prior to wanting to see her shine in her element was nothing compared to the satisfaction of being actually there, being witness to her greatness, personally and professionally.

"Yes, she is..." Hayden replied softly, his voice trailing off as he watched Bubble laugh at something one of the crew members said.

How privileged would be the person who gets to hear that sound over and over? COME ON HAYDEN! Where is there professionalism? Long gone now, that's for sure.

Briar giggled, snapping Hayden back from his monologue. "She even showed me how to check the camera angles, and gave me heatseat!" Briar's excitement was palpable, each word punctuated with an enthusiastic bounce. “Did you hear me call cut?”

“I'm glad you're having a good time, sweetie," Hayden responded, his smile tinged with affection. Oh how happy she makes Briar, she’s too sweet for this world.

"She said I was a natural, like you!" Briar continued, unaware of the complex emotions stirring in her father.

Hayden laughed, reaching out to tuck a stray curl behind Briar's ear. "Maybe one day you'll be directing films too, huh?"

"Maybe," Briar mused, "but only if I can do it with Bubble. We'd be the best team!"

"Indeed, you would," Hayden agreed, his gaze drifting once again to Bubble. As if sensing his gaze, Bubble looked over, her eyes meeting his across the distance. And, as it had been since day one, a silent communication passed between them, a shared smile that spoke volumes.

The day was finally coming to an end and Hayden was arriving at Bubble's office to pick Bri up and call it a day, he knocked softly before pushing it open. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a small lamp on the desk. There, in a scene that melted his heart instantly, was Briar, asleep with her head resting gently in Bubble's lap. Bubble, with one hand resting on a script and the other lightly stroking Briar's hair, looked up and met Hayden’s eyes with a soft smile. Calm down, you stupid heart.

Bubble carefully shifted, easing Briar's head onto a cushion she placed on the chair, and stood to meet Hayden halfway across the room. They moved in a quiet, shared understanding, their steps soft to not wake up the little girl, who was clearly too exhausted from the day’s adventures.

“She crashed just after you left. It's been quite a day.” Bubble whispered, her smile reaching her eyes.

“Yeah, it has,” Hayden replied, his voice low and warm. “Thank you, for everything today. For making today special, not just for Briar, but for me too.” A soft smile appeared on her lips, paired with red on her cheeks. “It was amazing.” You are amazing. His words lingered in the air, laden with unspoken feelings, hinting at the layers of meaning behind them. “She hasn’t stopped talking about today. You’ve made quite the impression.” He added.

"It's easy to make days special with you two," she replied softly. “I loved every minute of it and I’m glad she did too. She’s wonderful, Hayden.” You're both wonderful. “Just like you.”

Their eyes locked, and for a moment, the world seemed to stand still. The air between them was charged with an unspoken understanding, the kind that comes from shared looks and smiles that linger a little too long.

But before anyone took a leap of faith and said what they were feeling, the silence was broken when Bri turned around, mumbling something in her sleep. Hayden nodded towards her, “I should probably get her home. She’ll be wondering where she is when she wakes up.”

She nodded and stepped out of their way, but watched with a smile on her lips how he gently scooped Briar into his arms, careful not to disturb her slumber.

As Hayden held Briar close, Bubble stepped forward, her presence comforting and familiar, the jasmine scent involving him, and leaned in to plant a gentle kiss on Briar’s crown, a tender gesture that made his heart race again.

His blue eyes got lost in hers, they were so calm, so peaceful, that it was just what he was looking for amidst the chaos of his mind, of his heart, he wanted to dive in them and never be found.

Then, standing so close to Hayden that he could feel the warmth of her breath, she raised herself slightly on her tiptoes and placed a sweet, chaste kiss on his cheek. “Goodbye, Hayden,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes holding his for a lingering moment.

Kiss me until I know every millimetre of your lips, but let me keep kissing them in case I forget a detail. The simple kiss sent a ripple of warmth through Hayden’s body, the kind of warmth that spreads slowly but reaches deep. The proximity, her scent, and the feel of her lips on his skin, all conspired to heighten the tension between them.

“Goodnight, Bubble,” Hayden managed to say, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside. With Briar in his arms, he turned towards the door, carrying more than just his daughter, the idea that he was losing the battle between rationality and emotion.

Bubble watched them leave, her hand touching her lips briefly, the memory of the kiss lingering like a promise, like hope. The office felt suddenly too quiet, too empty, but filled with a hopeful anticipation of what tomorrow might bring.

July 2021, fulfilling dreams.

One of the last fighting scenes was coming up and Hayden wanted it to be perfect, so he trained all the time for them, so much that he lost track of it. Long ago he stopped feeling the ache in his limbs, or any sensation at all, and the world outside the four walls of the immense training room he was in disappeared.

Unknown to him, he was not alone. She was leaning on a wall looking at him, lost in the way he moved swiftly around the room, how his muscles flexed. She was fascinated by him, but not only by what he made her feel, in terms of her silly little -not little at all- crush, but by how dedicated he was to his part, by his work philosophy.

The horny part of her was thinking how someone wearing a brown henley and black loose pants could look so fucking sexy, but he could pull it. At some point he tilted his head back, the light hitting on his hair, making his skin glow and her eyes travelled across the curve of his jaw, to his neck to the point where it met with his clavicles, which was showing thanks to the two undone buttons, and she pressed her legs together, gulping.

At the worst time possible, in the silence of the room, she sneezed and he turned around confused as hell. “What the-?” But relaxed when he saw it was only her. “Bless you, Bubble.”

“Thank you,” she had a tight smile on her lips. “Sorry to interrupt you.”

“Not at all,” he cleaned the sweat from his forehead with his shoulder sleeve. “Break from filming?”

She tilted her head to the side, looking at him frowning, “The filming ended hours ago.” At those words, he frowned too. “It’s dark outside, since when are you here?”

He looked surprised. “I don’t know,” She shook her head, walking towards him with a water bottle in her hands, “late afternoon I think.”

“Here,” she passed him the bottle and he smiled at her, putting the lightsaber on her hands. “Well, all those hours worked extremely fine.”

He gulped the water like a dehydrated man. The main thing that was killing her, that was making her so fucking hard to focus, was how his Adam's apple kept bobbling up and down when he swallowed his drink. “You think?” Truth be told, he was insecure about a few things, his performance being one of them.

“Yes” and nodded sure. “From what I see, and from what the stunts and trainers tell me, it’s perfect.” She smiled kindly at him, “You are more than ready.”

“You sure?” What she had to say about his performance, about him, meant a great deal to him.

Taking a few steps closer to him, she maintained eye contact. “You are going to kill it, Hayden. I say this as the director, I can already picture how perfect the scene is going to be.” Those words meant a lot to him, but on top of that, how soft she reassured him was what put a smile on his lips. “And as a fan, I already have chills just imagining how it’s going to look.”

He chuckled at that, “Well, I trust you so I’m going to believe you.” She nodded satisfied and he drank again.

With how close they were, he saw the exhausted look on her face. The mark of her glasses on the bridge of her nose made him want to pass his fingers there, to relax the frown adorning her features. His eyes diverted to her outfit, always loving how she dressed. Tall black sneakers, paired with also black loose leggings and a fitted blue t-shirt, her hair held by a clip in an extremely messy way. Blue eyes traced back to her face, but she was looking at the saber in her hands, a tiny smile on her lips. “What?”

“I’m trying to not let my little me have a mental breakdown,” she said her eyes still not looking at him

The brunette’s lips curved up in a smile. “Why?”

She shook her head, hiding her eyes from him. “It’s lame.”

“No, it’s not.” He said quickly. “Talk to me, Bubble.”

Slowly, her eyes met with his and he could notice right away the sparkle in them, but when she looked at him from beneath her eyelashes, he was almost knocked out of his feet at how much it affected that simple gesture. His eyes fell at her lips the seconds she wet the lower one and made it prisoner of her teeth, his heart started beating uncontrollably. Too fast, too hard, that he was sure she was able to hear it.

“I’ve always wanted a lightsaber, but I never had one, and you're giving me yours, even if it's just to hold it, it’s-” she laughed, shaking her head “It’s…um… I don’t-” she giggled nervously “I don’t know how to explain it.”

You are so cute it had to be criminal. Hayden was seconds away from dropping to his knees from how cute she was, from how giggly and happy she looked.

An idea popped into his brain, putting the bottle of water away, he smiled brightly at her. “I know you say you don’t train, but I’m going to teach you something.” She looked at him frowning. “Anakin’s signature move.”

Her eyes shone like a little kid, “I'll make an exception," he raised his eyebrows. "Only for you." A big smile appeared on her lips and all her tiredness flew away.

Her jasmine scent surrounded him, welcoming him when he stood behind her. His chest touching her back, the great difference of one head gave him the opportunity to look down on her. It would be easier to show it to her and that each of them had a lightsaber? Probably. What was the fun of that?

Oh God. She took a deep breath, his closeness clouding her thoughts. A mere inch in between their skins. “First,” he said in a low hushed voice, “don’t arch your back” he heard her holding her breath, “legs a little open.” Shivers ran through her back as he whispered in her ear. “Now,” slowly, his hand travelled to her left one, “a basic spin.” She nodded, pressing her lips to not let a giggle escape her mouth because his breath tingled her.

His fingers intertwined with hers on top of the base of the saber, “relax.” His fingers travelled lower, to her wrist, “Don’t be stiff.” Gently, he massaged it a little, loosening it. Gently, he started twirling his own hand, it took them a couple of minutes to find the right rhythm. Because, one, she was left-handed and it came naturally to him with his right hand, but with his left one was another thing, and two, it was really hard to concentrate for either of them being that close to the other.

Yeah, the ache he was feeling before? Disappeared, completely. It was nonexistent the second they invaded the other’s personal space.

To the endless list of things he noticed about her add, confirming his theory, that her skin was soft. And yes, her touch shocked him to his very core. A simple hand touch, simple fingers intertwined, made him weak in the knees.

Her lips were a little agape, fully concentrated on the task at hand. After a couple of spins, where he gathered she already mastered it, she was ready for the second step. “Second, you are going to tuck it behind your back pointing your knuckles to the ground.”

“Huh?” She moved her head to the side, looking at him with a frown on her brows.

Their lips centimetres from each other, making it extremely hard to concentrate. For both of them. Lord have mercy on me.

It was like they were in sync, they looked at the other's lips at the same time, not realising what the other was doing. The sudden need to trace the curve of her lips almost overcame him, almost becoming too much for him to breathe properly, to the point his grip on the saber loosened a little but her firm one brought him back to the real world.

“Basic spin,” she led that part, “Point your knuckles to the ground,” his hand guided hers, “and tuck it behind the back.” Delicately, to not injure her, he moved their arms behind their backs. “Got it?” She nodded, liking her lips and that time, he was the one who took a deep breath, earning a little smile from her.

“Now what else?” Master. She asked looking ahead trying to hide her blush, but failing miserably because he could see it.

His hand found his place on her waist, he felt her take a shaky breath, “Turn slightly to the side,” and moved her. The movement made her shirt lift a little, his cold fingers touching her warm velvet skin and a little laugh escaped her lips. “What?”

She pressed her lips together to not laugh, “I’m ticklish,” but failed miserably. Her head fell on his shoulder, her throat completely exposed and Hayden’s eyes fell there, instinctively licking his lips. Oh, that laugh.

Even though she wanted to control her laugh, she couldn't and after a few minutes, when he came out of his entrance with her, he laughed too. His chest rumbled against her back. His masculine laugh made her weak on the knees.

The closeness they were having disappeared, but not because someone took a step away, but because they were glued together, not an inch of space separated them. Who took that step? God knows, but her back was glued to his front, his grip on her hip was gentle but a little possessive.

Finally, their laughter died down. How can I have so much luck and at the same time none? “Show me again, please?” Her tone quivered a little and the most masculine, soft, giggled left her lips. To my very core, thank you.

What he found on her face instead of a frown, was a smile. Not only that, but her eyes were looking at his mouth too. “Knuckles to the ground, tuck behind the back while moving your hip.”

She nodded and did the move. Still guided by him, with his hand on her hip. Hayden’s breath caught in his throat the second the movement of her hips made her ass graze his crotch, he tried to put his mind black, to think about anything else other than the sweet torture he was enduring, other than the tightness he started feeling in his pants. Every touch, every movement, It's overwhelming.

He couldn't ignore the intense physical sensations that surged through his body. The closeness of her body against his sent a jolt of electricity straight to his core. He felt his breath hitch and his heart rate quicken, unable to deny the undeniable attraction he felt towards her. Hayden desperately tried to push these thoughts aside, to suppress the growing desire that threatened to consume him. Looking up, he invoked all his willpower not to succumb to his desires to make his very vivid sexual dreams come true at that precise moment. But deep down, he knew that his sexual dreams were just that— dreams. He couldn't let them cloud his judgement or jeopardise the trust they had built. Control your impulses, Hayden. Stay in control for the love of God.

Feeling his grip losing a bit, her hand grabbed the forearm of the hand that was on her waist. It seemed involuntary, like she was grounding herself and it made his heart start racing. She was intoxicating for him, her mere presence made all around him disappear.

After who knows how long, because he was trying to make his hard-on disappear, her voice reached his ears. “You okay?” She was looking up at him over her shoulder.

Busted. He nodded, clearing his throat. “Yeah, I was about to sneeze and I didn’t want to.” She nodded, not too convinced.

“What now?” The way she was standing, with where their hands were, he was hugging her from behind. His long arms engulfed her small figure.

The mix of his perfume, mint and cigarette impregnated in her skin, clouding her. All around her was Hayden and that was drowning her but calming her at the same time.

“Back to the starting position.” At that point, he was still behind her, hand in hand, because it was too difficult for him to part ways. He was too selfish to do it. “And do it all over again.”

Confidently, she made the whole move successfully. “Oh God.” She looked at him with her eyes widened. “Oh my God!” One more time, she did it. “I did it!” She turned around towards him, face to face, with a big proud smile on her face.

“You did it, Bubble.” He smiled proudly too.

Without thinking twice she jumped into his arms, saber forgotten, along with any clear thought. His arms hugged her by the waist and spun around. Their laughter filled the air, her head tilted to the back and the most beautiful smile on her lips while his eyes admired every second of it.

When her feet touched the ground, his arms were still around her waist making him crouch down a little, her hands on her shoulder. They were breathing the same air, their noses were mere centimetres from touching. She was swimming in his blue eyes, he was living in her lips. Gently, his head tilted to the side, still looking at her lips, and her hands travelled to his neck, her thumbs ghosting his Adam’s apple.

Timidly, they started shorting the distance. Her hands tangled in his hair, and his fingers went under the hem of her t-shirt, touching her skin and making a shiver run down her spine. His eyes caught the moment the tip of her tongue wet her lips and his knees almost gave in.

With how close they were, their eyes met. How beautiful her eyes shine. Not even the calmest, most clear ocean, could compare to those eyes. Slowly, he nuzzled her nose with the tip of his and she closed her eyes pleased, her lashes caressing her cheeks. Her nails ran down his scalp and it was his turn to smile pleased, his head falling back and the feeling of a single wet kiss under his jaw blurred his brain.

He called her name like a prayer, in a whisper, as if it was his only angel and he didn’t want anyone to hear him, to steal her from him. She pressed herself tighter against him. Even with layers of clothes in between them, he could feel her nipples against his chest. The breathless way she said his name, the way she purred it, made him die and go to hell and heaven back twice.

Only the finest of papers could be between their lips, that close they were. Hayden felt the curve of her lips on his, slightly, and that was what brought him back to the real world. What the hell were you thinking? Are you that out of your mind? Painfully, dying inside, he pulled himself apart from her. Putting as much distance as he could because he knew that succumbing to his desires at that moment would be inappropriate and could potentially ruin the sweet relationship that they had built.

Confusion adorned her sweet face. “I’m sorry, Bubble.” She tried to take a step closer to him but he took one back. “I-I ca-I can’t.” His eyes watched how pain took over her features and it was like a knife twisted in his heart. For a few seconds, she looked down. “Bubble-”

Looking at him, with watery eyes, “I get it” She took a step back.

Taking a deep breath, he shook his head. “It’s not like that, I-”

“I’ve got to go.” The way he saw his demeanour change, like that day in October back in 2019, when she built walls inside her, killed him. He never wanted her to build those walls for him to not be able to see her true self, hell he never wanted her to feel any kind of pain and certainly not because of him.

“Goodbye.” No Hayden, no Moose. Simply Goodbye. Well done, idiot. Well, fucking done.

He wanted to scream that it wasn’t her the problem, that his insecure self was the problem. That he wanted her, but his feelings were a mess, that he was a mess. That his last real relationship went so bad that he was afraid of fucking things up with her and losing her.

TAGLIST: @frommywindow17 // @lillianacristina // @shyartisanvoidwagon // @watersquirtpewpewboomm // @yomommaandyogranny // @shqwqrma // @florence-vikander // @bryjohn98 // @its-sappho-biotch // @mysardencut // @fan-goddess // @weallhaveadestiny // @hueanhdang // @ittybitty-rt // @fromasgardandback // @mmb-09 // @elisamoons // @harryisacuties // @little-diable // @angie2274 // @fallinlovewithevil // @mrsmikaelsxn // @naginithemage // @maleahcastro3 // @gwendolyngonzalez // @drawingdroid // @darkestnite // @ooostarwarsfandom501st // @lonelywitchv2 // @chixnugg22 // @moni-cah // @4-everm-0-re // @hesvoid34 // @princessvader15 // @nevess // @ilovenarrystoran4ever // @mecrazybish // @blueeyedbesson // @syko-juice // @thetinylittlebird // @b4b3tte // @chixnugg22 // @lily-strnlo // @leahdrads // @niclove // @bloatedandalone04 //

#Hayden Christensen #Hayden Christensen x reader #Hayden Christensen x you #Hayden Christensen x y/n #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #director!reader

296 notes · View notes

jeankluv · 6 months

Text

Birdie | Satoru Gojo - Chapter 02

Words: 4.6k

Summary: You didn’t like him, at all. But due to your bad luck you would have to be forced to work with him and different circumstances end up leading you to the fact that perhaps the word dislike is not the one you use to describe him.

ac: _3aem (twt)

Tags: modern au, college au, fem!reader, academic rivals, he fell first, fluff, old money Gojo Satoru, abusive parents, slight slow burn, Satoru is a softy, secondary couple (Geto Suguru x oc), a bit of angst, no use of y/n, eventual smut, Gojo plays basketball

Materialist | previous chapter | next chapter

Links to the story on: wattpad | ao3

You stood before the classroom, ready for your first class of the day. Kyoko had lend you one of her dresses, considering you hadn't had the chance to stop by the house to start packing and moving in with her and her parents. When you discussed the arrangement with Kyoko's parents, they expressed no objections; instead, they were delighted at the prospect of you living with them. At times, you found yourself pondering what good fortune had led you to this life—to be surrounded by Kyoko and her family, who welcomed you repeatedly with open arms and without any expectations in return.

Four days had passed since the incident had occurred, you had tried to go to class, but Kyoko’s didn’t let you, seeing how pale you were. Gojo had texted you during those days, at first you ignored him but you ended up sending him a message telling him that you were fine but needed rest, after that he didn't send you any messages again.

Shaking your head, you entered the classroom. A few students were already seated, engaging in light conversation. Casting your gaze around the room, you typically preferred the seat by the window, especially during spring when you enjoyed the warmth of the sun on your face and admired the increasingly verdant hues of the park outside.

“You are here!” You felt two hands grabbing you from your shoulders and moving you to the front.

You looked up and saw the bright smile of Satoru Gojo. “What are you doing?”

“I told you, I was going to save you a seat, wasn't I? I take you to him. Wait! Are you still sick? If you want, I'll take you there.” You felt your face burn red, what was he into.

“I’m not sick.” You separated from him a little and could notice the murderous look of a group of students who were a little further back. You swallowed and looked up at Gojo. “You don't need to grab me, I'm not going to fall. And you didn't have to save a place for me…”

He nodded and smiled. “But still did! Look the best spot!” He pointed out.

You looked at the place where Gojo pointed and opened your eyes, it was the place where you used to sit, the one with the best views and where there was the best breeze.

“Good, right?” He smiled arrogantly.

You snorted and then smiled. “It's not that big of a deal, Gojo.”

“Well I made you smile.” He leaned towards you. “That's a win for me.”

You breathed slowly, he was getting on your nerves. He passed next to you and sat down on the sit that was right next to your favorite spot. You knew it was pointless to tell him to go to another place, his stubborn head was not going to move from there, so you let it be and sat next to him. As always, you took one of your notebooks and your pencil case out of your backpack and waited, looking out the window, for the teacher to walk through the door and start teaching his class.

You could feel Gojo moving in the seat next to you. You turned your head a little to find him rummaging through your pencil case and with your notebook in his hands. At what point had he picked it up?

“What are you doing?” You said putting your hand on top of the notebook, you had said it so loudly that some people turned to look at you. Shit. “What are you doing?” You said once again but whispering.

“Oh…” He looked down at the notebook and put his hand on top of your. You felt an electric shock go through your body and moved the hand away from his touch. “I was drawing a bird, birdie.” He said showing you the drawing, you would say you were surprised by how good the drawing was but it was Satoru Gojo after all, everything he did seemed to be always perfect.

“It’s really… good.” You held your notebook back.

“I know.” He smiled cockily.

You rolled your eyes and started to focus on the class, the teacher was already starting to explain some things and you needed to be focused to take all the notes. About 45 minutes had passed when out of the corner of your eye you looked at Gojo, he was looking at you. What was he doing looking at you? You noticed how your pulse accelerated, the bastard was getting on your nerves. Was he not going to take a single note in the entire class? You tried to ignore his gaze from the rest of the class but you felt his blue eyes boring into you the entire time.

Class ended and the teacher left, and now you had a free hour. You saw how your companions began to leave, all except one. You turned to look at him and he was always smiling at you, didn't he get tired?

“Why are you still here?” You spoke.

“Isn’t it obvious? I’m waiting for you!”

“I’m going to the library to study…”

“Great, I will go with you too.” He stood up and started walking.

You looked at his back and didn’t move from your seat. Why was he so determined to be with you? Your trust issues told you that you would distrust him but there was another part that told you no. You shook your head, trying to get those thoughts away from you. Gojo would eventually get tired of you and leave, he just needed time.

“Here.” You noticed how something cold touched your face, causing you to squint at the sensation. “You need to hydrate yourself so you don't faint again.”

You looked at him confused. “Thank you…”

You looked down at the bottle that now was on your hands. You were trying to understand all Gojo’s actions but each one of them was more confusing than the other one.

“By the way.” He spoke again, walking beside you. “You changed your style?”

You looked down and saw the floral dress you were wearing. “It’s Kyoko’s dress. I haven’t gone to my apartment yet and I didn’t have any clothes in Kyoko’s house.” Gojo nodded and gave you one last look before smiling for himself.

Weird.

You walked with Gojo to the library, people stared at him wherever he went and he smiled at them with his best smile. Making those who saw him fall at his feet. Upon arriving at the library, Gojo sat next to you and watched as you took out the notes you had taken today.

“You are not going to study?” You looked at him.

He shook his head. “I don’t need it.” You rolled his eyes at his comment.

“Then why did you come?”

“To make you company.” He shrugged.

“I don’t need anyone to accompany me. I’m sure your friends are waiting for you somewhere, you can leave.” You sound too harsh.

He once again shook his head. “Don’t worry. I prefer to be here with you.”

There it was again, that warm feeling in my chest. You turned your head to stop looking at him and took your headphones out of your backpack, it didn't matter that Gojo was there, you were going to study and do what you came to do. The minutes began to pass, while you were studying, Gojo had rested his head on the table and closed his eyes.

“Fuck.” You blurted out in frustration, you had been stuck with the same problem for 15 minutes. It didn't matter where you took this subject, it was simply impossible for you.

Gojo stretched his arms and yawned next to you, then rested his face on his hand. “What's wrong birdie?”

That nickname again, you were going to ignore it, his stubborn head was not going to stop. “I hate this subject so much…” You cried. “Doesn’t matter how much I try I don’t understand it and the teacher is just…” Awful but you didn’t want to say it out loud. “And we will have a partial in four weeks…”

Gojo looked over your notes, nodding and a smile on his face. “I will help you.”

He would? But with that smile on his face you knew there was something hidden behind it. “What are you up to, Gojo?”

“I will. I’m good with this subject.” Which one is not? You wanted to ask. “But.” There it was. “With one condition.” He put one finger in the air.

“Which is…?” You responded tiredly.

“If you pass the exam, and you surpass me, I will stop being so annoying.” You nodded. “But if I get a higher score than you… You will go out on a date with me.”

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

Your shoes stomped on the floor, making them sound loudly. You had been looking for Kyoko around the school for 20 minutes without success, you had called her 4 times and her cell phone must have been full of text messages begging her to meet him immediately.

You to Kyoko ☀️

Kyoko!!!

Kyoko where are you?

I need you 😭

This is an emergency!!

┻━┻︵╰(‵□′)╯︵┻━┻

You went to the cafeteria and walked up and down until you saw her sitting with Suguru, Gojo's friend. Gojo, date…ah shit. You shook your head and walked over to them. The two stopped talking and looked at you, Kyoko said your name with the sweetest smile in the world and you felt your problems almost disappear.

“Hi, how are-?”

“We need to talk. Like right now.” You looked at Gojo’s friend. “Alone… sorry.”

He smiled and shook his head. “It’s alright.” He stood up. “I will call you.”

“Okay.” Kyoko smiled.

“Goodbye girls.”

“Thank you.” You said. “And sorry for interrupting you!” You told him and he nodded.

You sat where Suguru was before you and took a deep breath.

“Uh…” Kyoko smiled. “What’s up with that?”

“You know I usually go to the library to study at this time right?” She nodded. “Well, Gojo came for me.” She took a sip from his cup of coffee and motioned for you to continue. “Well… she was with Mr. Tanaka's subject, you know I've had her stuck since the first day. Well, Gojo, to no one's surprise, is good at that subject and has offered to help me.”

“That’s a good thing, you might not like him but this could be the only chance for you to pass that subject.”

“Yeah… he put a condition to it.” Kyoko raised an eyebrow. “If I manage to pass the exam but I don’t get a higher score than him, I will have to go out with him on a date.” You cried.

Kyoko laughed and you looked at her wanting to kill her. “Sorry, sorry. But that bad of an idea it would be? Going out with him just one day, as a date.” She rest her head on her hand.

“I… I can’t stand him.”

“I know. Listen, I shouldn’t be telling you this but, Suguru told me Satoru really wants for both of you to be close and has been trying for a long time. But you always avoid him, so he is taking this small opportunity he has to get closer with you.” She held your hands. “Give it a chance and besides maybe he could take you out to a fancy restaurant.”

“Ugh please no.”

“Okay okay.” She raised her hands up. “Just relax, you will get a higher rank than him.”

“I don’t know Kyoko… By the way.” You looked at her. “What’s up with you and his friend, Suguru.”

She looked down and started playing with her hands. “Well, we started talking and we are meeting each other. For now.”

You nodded and smiled. “I’m happy for you, Kyoko.”

“Maybe in some months we can go out on a double date!” She joked.

“Eh… Relax Kyoko! I don’t even see myself dating him, not even close.”

“But you once told me, you thought he was attractive.” Your cheeks turned red.

Yeah it was true, you found Gojo quite attractive but who wouldn’t. With that silver hair, blue eyes and a height that left everyone with the jaw on the floor. Fuck, what were you thinking?

“Yeah, but you would be blind not to see he is attractive.” You said out loud.

“Who is attractive?” Oh shit.

“Sorry, I told him you two were having a private talk but he wouldn’t listen.” Suguru appeared behind Gojo.

You must be red like a tomato right now. “Who is attractive birdie?” He smiled, closing the gap that was between both of you.

“Eh…” You looked around, trying to think of an answer. “Haibara’s friend!”

“Haibara…” He repeated. “As Yu Haibara?” You nodded.

“Yeah! His friend, the tall and blonde one.” You smiled and looked at Kyoko. “Right?”

“Oh! Nanami?” Suguru asked.

Hell you didn’t know what his name was, you only saw him whenever he was waiting outside the store for Haibara. Of course they knew who he was, both of them, Gojo and Suguru, knew who Haibara was and they probably also knew that guy. You wanted to hit your head against a wall, you were too dumb.

“So Nanami eh?” Gojo touched his chin.

“Yeah, he is pretty handsome and interesting, not gonna lie.” You were lying, you only saw him from a far distance and 10 seconds ago you didn’t even know his name.

“But I’m more handsome.” Gojo replied.

“Yes.” You said without thinking. Oh no. “Wait!”

“Hehe.” He had the biggest smirk on his face. “Birdie, did you just say what I think you did?”

You wanted to run. “I didn’t.” You shook your head.

“I think you did. Right Suguru? You heard it too.” He grabbed his friend.

“I didn’t Gojo, shut up or I…”

“You…” Gojo leaned towards you.

“Oh look at the time!” You pointed at the non existent watch. “My next class is about to start.” You turned around to face Kyoko. “I love you. I will see you after work at home. Bye!”

What fly had bitten you? Why were you so nervous? Having Gojo so close had accelerated everything inside you and you had felt extremely overwhelmed. If you stayed there a little longer you would end up going crazy. God you were screwed, weren't you?

Satoru Gojo pov

Gojo watched your figure speed away from the cafeteria, while you touched your red cheeks. Making you blush was something he loved, the way you first opened your eyes wide and then started looking everywhere, and finally you started to turn red, he found it extremely adorable.

“Hey Suguru…” Satoru looked at his friend. “She didn’t have a watch with her.” And he laughed.

“You should stop scaring her like that.” Suguru talked beside him.

Satoru laughed and looked at his friend. “It’s funny, she looks adorable with her cheeks all red.”

“Don’t cry if she kicks your ass one day.” Kyoko spoke. “If I’m not mistaken she was black belt in taekwondo.”

“She knows taekwondo?” Satoru excitedly asked.

“Yeah…”

“She doesn’t stop surprising me.”

“But for real Satoru, if you do something wrong or your intentions with her are bad, the one kicking your ass won’t be her, it would be me. And I’m much worse.” Kyoko faced Satoru, with a gaze he swore never saw in the girl before.

“Sure but I don’t have any bad intentions with her. Don’t worry.” Kyoko nodded. “Well then I will get going! I will leave you two love birds alone.” Satoru laughed when he saw the red faces of both of them.

“Satoru…” Suguru looked at him.

“Bye bye!” And he left them alone.

He walked out of the cafeteria and stuck his tongue out at his best friend who was positioned in front of the window. Satoru laughed as he watched Suguru give him the finger.

He put on his headphones and started walking towards his car. He hoped that no one would stop him on the way to him, but unfortunately for him that was not the case, several people stopped him trying to give them his number or asking for his, but Satoru simply rejected them all.

If there was one thing Satoru hated, it was being only seen as a pretty face or for the size of his wallet. He obviously knew that he was attractive, he looked in the mirror every day and knew it but sometimes he wished that others didn't.

The song that was playing in his headphones stopped playing and was interrupted by an incoming call. Satoru pulled the phone out of his pocket heavily and rolled his eyes at the name that appeared on the screen.

Mother

He sighed and clicked the green symbol to take the call. "Mother."

“Satoru, son.” His mother's cold voice sounded on the other end of the phone. “I remind you that today we have family lunch with your grandparents.”

“I know…” He knew it perfectly, his mother had been repeating it for more than a week. “I will be there as soon as possible.”

“Okay, see you in a bit then.” And she hung up.

Not a goodbye, not a I love you. Satoru wonders if the word I love you had ever come from his mother, at least it had never happened with him.

His parents were not like the rest, they were cold, calculating, arrogant and manipulative. They always sought to achieve more and more, regardless of who they harmed in the process. When Satoru had the chance to become independent he did, staying in that crazy house would only make him like them, and that was something he refused to be.

He looked up from the phone and looked towards one of the faculty classrooms. A smile appeared on his face as he saw you leaning against the glass, eyes half closed as if you were about to fall asleep.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

It’s only been 10 minutes of class and you are already sleepy birdie?

He sent the message and waited a bit for you to see it. He saw you move, looking for what could be the cell phone and then move your head in all directions, probably looking for him. Satoru bit his lip trying to contain his laughter and wrote again.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

Outside

And then you turned your head to meet Satoru's blue gaze. He greeted you warmly and you lowered your head again.

Birdie 🐥

Stop stalking me, weirdo

Leave!

He laughed.

Satoru to Birdie 🐥

Just wanted to wave you goodbye, since you left so quickly

Birdie 🐥

Okay you did it

Now leave, people will think weird things

Satoru smiled and waved at you goodbye when he saw you looking back at him. You also gave him a small goodbye, which made him smile even harder, if that was possible.

Satoru walked to his car and sat in it. He was supposed to go to his parents' house, but he hated the mere idea of setting foot in that place for a moment. But he knew he had no choice. He scratched his temple and started the car, heading to his parents' house.

It didn't take him long to enter through the door of his parents' luxurious villa and to be instantly greeted by one of the house's employees. Upon entering he could see his mother sitting reading and his father on the phone, shouting, probably about something about business.

“Mother.” Satoru smiled at his mother.

“Oh son, you are already here?” She said without looking at him.

“Yeah, I just arrived.”

“That’s good, your grandparents are about to arrive.” That’s when she looked at him. “You should change.” Satoru looked at himself. “It’s not appropriate. You have clothes in your old room.” She pointed out and went back to her reading.

“Okay mother.” Satoru turned around and started walking towards his old room.

Satoru passed by his father, who did not even notice his presence in that place. He walked through the house until he reached his old room. He remained the same, not a hint of color, not a photo, not a toy, nothing. He threw himself on the bed, face down, and cursed to himself. He needed that afternoon to pass as soon as possible. He turned around on his back, looking at the ceiling.

Everyone had always told him how lucky he was to be a Gojo, his parents, his family. Nothing could be further from the truth. It was exhausting and demanding. Satoru often wanted to be able to exchange himself with any other person, to be able to escape from those demands and goals that he had to meet, just by belonging to the Gojo clan.

He stretched his arms and got out of bed to look at the closet. They were all suits. Did he really have to wear a suit to eat? He rolled her eyes and grabbed one of them.

When he was already putting on his jacket he could hear his parents greeting his grandparents. Satoru took a deep breath and psyched himself up for what awaited him.

“Satoru! Darling!” His grandma approached him. “How are you? You look really nice.”

“Thank you grandma, I’m good. How are you?”

“Good, good.” She nodded.

“Son.” He heard the cold voice of his mother. “Let’s get going.”

She pointed at the dining room, they all followed and sat down. No one said a single word for a king, the only sound in the room was the sound of cutlery.

“So Satoru.” His grandfather spoke. “You are already on age for marriage. Have you been looking for a wife? I heard there are a few women from good clans that are still single.”

Satoru took a breath, the question had taken a while to come out but there it was. “Not yet grandfather, I’m concentrating on my studies.”

He took a sip from the glass and looked at Satoru. “I still don't understand why you haven't followed the family footsteps and studied law.”

“It was not my thing…”

“Doesn’t matter.” He put the glass on the table. “In 5 weeks there is the charity gala for businessmen here in Tokyo. The whole family must attend and Satoru it would be nice if you showed up there with a partner.”

Satoru clenched his fists, he already knew it.

“Your grandfather is right, son. We can make an appointment for you ourselves. The daughter of the Iori family is still single, on the other hand there is also the eldest daughter of the family…”

“I think I need some fresh air. I will go for a walk.”

“Son! What are you doing?!” He ignored the screams from his mother and got up from the table.

He heard his mother angrily speaking and his father agreeing with her. He just ignored all of it and got into his car. He drove for 10 minutes until he realized where he had parked the car. He smiled to himself as he realized how his subconscious had played with him.

Your pov

The afternoon in the store had been very boring, hardly any customers had come there. So now you were looking at your notebook, full of equations. Would you be able to get them before the exam? Probably not. And it wasn't because you hadn't tried, because you had tried, without stopping, but the teacher's explanations were simply impossible for you.

Was it really that bad of an idea to accept Gojo’s proposal?

You shook your head. Kyoko was right, it wasn’t a bad idea and besides nothing would happen for going out one day with him, right?

And on the other hand, you're pretty sure that Gojo would leave you alone sooner or later, you two were complete opposites. Two different worlds. He was like Saturn, so bright and majestic, everyone stared and observed him. On the other hand, you were like Uranus, distant, darker, less bright, colder, smaller.

“Why I’m thinking that?” You laughed for yourself.

“You seemed pretty concentrated, to be honest.” You heard a voice that made you look up. “Hi birdie. Miss me?”

Why is he there? When did he enter the store? Why is he wearing a suit?

“Gojo…” You opened your mouth and then closed it again.

“I know, you missed me.” He smirked.

“When did you come?”

“I’ve been here for like two minutes.” He looked at his watch. “You were in another world or something?”

“Are you buying something?” You ignored his question.

“Yep.” He popped the ‘p’. “Here.” He said putting a can in front of you.

“There you have.” You said after paying him.

“You still have a lot of your shift?”

You looked at the watch on the wall and nodded. “Two more hours.”

“I won’t be able to wait for you then.” He pouted.

“I didn’t want you, waiting for me.”

“Don’t be so mean birdie. Anyways, I need to go to my parents house but sent me a message when you get home.”

“Who the fuck do you think you are Gojo!? My boyfriend or something?” You shouted at him when he was exiting the store.

He turned around and looked at you. “Maybe I could be.”

You grabbed a package of tissues from the counter and threw it at him. What the hell? Stupid Gojo Satoru!

“Free tissues for me? How considerate!” He laughed holding the package.

“Get out of my sight Gojo! Now!” You shouted, Gojo turned around and waved goodbye to you.

You sat back down on the stool behind the counter and let out a scream. Gojo Satoru got on your nerves, when you thought he could behave normally, he would make those comments. And the worst thing was the way your stupid heart got when he said them. Fucking idiot.

*･゜ﾟ･*:.｡..｡.:*･'･*:.｡. .｡.:*･゜ﾟ･*

You laid down on the bed in your new room at Kyoko's house. You had finished work an hour ago and Kyoko and his parents had welcomed you with dinner and a smile on their face. When was the last time someone had welcomed you with so much affection after arriving from somewhere? You don't remember it well, but it was probably when your grandmother was still alive.

She always waited for you with a smile on her face when you went to her house after school and she always showered you with kisses and love when the two of you were alone. But that happiness ended when you were 16 and since then you had not felt that warmth in your chest again.

Now you were there, in a new place that you could start calling home. And it was bright, warm and welcoming.

You rolled over yourself and grabbed the phone, clicking on a certain chat. You bite your nail, should you send a message or just talk tomorrow? The best was to leave it for tomorrow. Yeah that was the best. You left it and grabbed one of your notebooks and started reading the notes you took, memorizing it when the phone buzzed on the bed. You put the notebook aside and grabbed it strangely. Then you felt your heart jump hard in your chest. There were only three words on the screen, but they were enough to make your heart race and confuse you to no end.

Pain in the ass

Good night birdie

You to Pain in the ass

Good night Gojo

Note: a comment and a like is always appreciate. Also comment if you want to be added to the tag list.

Tag list: @crybabytoru, @sanriosatoru, @norvacaine, @sadmonke

#satoru gojo x y/n #gojo satoru fluff #gojo satoru smut #satoru gojo x you #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #satoru x you #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x oc #gojo satoru fanfic #gojo satoru x y/n

174 notes · View notes

loulouwrites · 6 months

Text

BIRTHDAYS . ALFIE SOLOMONS

summary: birthdays are a big event in the solomons household - especially when it's alfie's favourite daughter's big day. warnings: swearing, children being children, complicated family dynamics, fluff, alfie loves all his children equally (honest), unedited word count: 2.2k a/n: nobody asked for this but here's a lil birthday story. this is the last of the prewritten stories but there's definitely more to come. ( i wrote this three melatonin deep so, if it makes no sense, forgive me!)

Alfie woke up to what felt like a ton of bricks being thrown onto his stomach.

"Fuckin' hell," he groaned, the bed bouncing up and down, jostling him from his sleep.

"Fucking hell," a little voice giggled from beside him and his eyes shot open at the sound. His daughter was kneeling beside him on the bed, already dressed for the day, wearing a frilly dress that reminded Alfie of a trifle, and pink ribbons in her - usually - wild hair.

"It's by birthday, dad," Bessie laughed, still bounching up and down on the bed.

"Have you already had your cake, Bess?" Alfie sat up begrudginly, leaning against the headboard, holding his arms out so Bessie could climb in his lap.

"Waiting for daddy," she pointed a finger at him in a way that reminded him of her mother, she was going through a phase of imitating everybody around her - it was endearing when she imitated her mum, less so when she imitated him.

"Well, we best get a move on, then," he swung his feet out of the bed, dragging the now three year old with him, her laughter drowning out the groan he let out due to the strain in his back from carrying the girl that seemed to get heavier everyday.

He carried her into the kitchen, ruffling Benjamin's hair as he passed him, the boy sitting quietly at the table eating his breakfast.

"Alfie, put her down," his wife warned as she fussed with the cake on the bench, little Noah perched on her hip, sucking on his thumb, taking in the scene. He was the calmest of the three children so far, he was only four months old, but Alfie swore he was going stay like that until adulthood - always calm, always studying those around him.

Alfie obeyed his wife, placing Bessie gently on the ground and walking to approach his wife, his daughter following close behind him, eyes fixed on the cake her mother was almost done perfecting.

He placed a chaste kiss on her lips, and then one on little Noah's hair, not oblivious to the toddler gripping onto his leg. He eyed the cake suspiciously, the colourful icing and decorations feeling like an assault on his eyes.

"What happened to a Vicky sponge? When did these things have to get all fancy?" He lifted a finger to touch the cake, but his hand was swatted away before he could reach - and ruin - it.

"It's the fashion now, old man, you need to get used to it," she smiled, raking her eyes up and down his body, her eyes narrowing. "Why aren't you dressed? It's nearly ten, Alf, party starts at twelve."

"Fuckin' hell, I'll go now," he groaned, reaching down to pick up Bessie from her place beside him, muttering to her as they left the kitchen together. "Your mum is so horrible on birthdays."

"Mum is horrible," Bessie laughed along, not really knowing what she was saying.

"It's not fair! Bessie got more presents than I did," Benjamin huffed, arms crossed over his chest from his seat on the sofa, his mother rubbing his shoulder soothingly.

"Will you stop your whining?" Alfie spoke to his son, he was sat cross legged on the floor, helping Bessie open the perfectly wrapped presents, the floor covered in floral wrapping paper.

His mother leaned in to her son's side, pulling him to her gently. "Yours were more expensive," she winked, earning a smile from the boy.

"A baby!" Bessie laughed as she opened her final present, the fabric doll with bright red hair and rosy cheeks making Alfie jump from his seat on the floor.

"Fuckin' hell," he took the doll from his daughter's hands, holding it up to show the other three people in the room. "It's uglier than Benny when he was born."

"Alfie!-"

"Dad-"

The mother and son chastised the man, the little girl throwing her head back as she laughed.

"We're the only one's with a sense of humour in this house, Bess," he muttered, handing the ugly doll back to her.

The doorbell rang at exactly twelve, and Alfie answered with Bessie dangling upside down in his arms.

"Oh, it's you," he said flatly when he saw the woman on the other side of the door.

"Bubbee!" Bessie shrieked, wriggling to get out of her father's grip, and he let her down as gently as possible, which wasn't easy considering she was upside down. Bessie slid ungracefully to the floor, picking herself up, unphased, throwing her arms around her grandmother.

"Happy birthday, Elisabeth," she smiled, and Alfie rolled his eyes, Bessie's head turned to him, a frown on her face.

"Who's Lisabeth?"

"Come in," Alfie turned before the woman could respond, speaking under his breath, "or fuck off home, I don't care."

"I hope I'm not too early," the older woman spoke as she trailed behind him. "I was told twelve."

Alfie ignored her, stalking into the kitchen where his wife was pulling some form of baked good out of the oven - she went overboard in his opinion.

"Your mother's here," he said in an overly cheerful tone, gesturing to where the woman stood behind him.

"Hello-"

The woman interrupted her daughter's greeting, moving to inspect the birthday cake that was now presented on a crystal stand on the kitchen table.

"Is this the cake?" She raised a brow, and Alfie lifted his head to the ceiling, taking a deep breath. "It's awfully fancy, you were lucky if you got a Victoria sponge."

His head snapped to his wife, who was now standing with a sly grin on her face.

"It's funny you should say that mum, because Alfie-"

"It ain't fancy at all," Alfie interrupted with a scoff. "Anyways, our Elisabeth deserves the best, don't ya, Lis?" He scopped his daughter up in his arms.

"Who is Lis?" She frowned.

The doorbell rang, breaking the awkward tension in the room.

"Thank fuck for that," Alfie sighed, carrying Bessie to answer the door for the second time.

In hindsight, inviting twenty people with twenty toddlers into their home wasn't the best idea. The house had been filled with screams of laughter and terror for the better part of two hours, and it was driving Alfie mental.

He didn't really like kids, he thought they were dirty, messy and stupid. His children were the exeption, they were clever and clean - even four month old Noah had better manners than some of these three year olds. If Bessie's birthday taught him anything, it was that the only children he liked were his own.

"You want a drink, Alf?" His wife's brother? cousin? asked him holding up a glass of whiskey from the other side of the living room.

"Don't touch it...mate," Alfie declined, shaking his head in disgust at the gesture. He was telling the truth, this day not only marked the birth of his daughter, but the last time he had a sip of alcohol - determined not to have a repeat of three years ago. He was proud himself for that, he had never been a big drinker, even in his younger days, but he never felt obligated to swear off the stuff until the day Bessie was born - whether it was because he felt genuine guilt, or the reoccuring nightmare regarding Ms Abrams and that Charles Dickens book, he wasn't too sure.

Bessie was asleep next to him on the sofa when his wife approached with a cup of tea, the little girl's mouth open, pink icing still smeared across her face, it was the first time she'd fallen asleep before her bedtime since the day she was born.

"Your family drinks too much," Alfie eyed the fathers in the corner of the room, growing more rowdy as the minutes ticked by, the expensive bottle of whiskey he bought his wife for his birthday now empty, barely a drop left.

She raised a brow at him, "is that a fucking joke? A Solomons is saying my family drinks too much?"

"We sell, we don't drink."

"You don't drink, your cousins on the other hand?" She shook her head as if she were trying to shake the thought of his family away. She had only met them a handful of times, at weddings or funerals, and she was happy to keep their interactions at a minimum, lest she receive another black eye from being shoved away during a drunken scuffle.

"My family are fun," Alfie protested, though there was no real fight in his tone. "Yours are drunk and stuck up."

"It's a three year old's birthday, Alfie. I'd take drunk and stuck up over hammered and violent."

There was a smile on her face as she spoke, his family was fun, though she would never admit it.

He kicked everyone out at five. throwing his arms up as he herded them out of the house, wishing them well and thanking them for coming, not caring about their response.

"Yeah, bye now, Rachel, by now," he said, closing the door on his wife's aunt before she could say anything in response. He slumped against the closed against the closed door, his forehead pressing into the cool wood, closing his eyes relishing the sound of silence.

"Alfie."

"Fuck," he shouted, spinning around to face his mother-in-law, who was stood directly behind him, her hat on her head and gloves on her hands. "You leavin' so soon?"

"It was nice seeing you, Alfie but I don't want to overstay my welcome," she offered him a strained smile.

"You?" His eyes widened, a fake smile on his face. "Never." He opened the door for her, not waiting until she had fully passed the threshold before slamming it shut.

The family were sat in the living room in silence, the chaotic mess surrounding them completely forgotten as they savoured the calmnmess that enveloped the house since the last guest left.

Bessie was still flat out at Alfie's side, Noah sleeping against his mother's chest.

"Dad?" Benjamin said from Alfie's other side, and Alfie opened one eye to glance at his son. "Is Bessie your favourite?"

"Now what makes you think that?" Alfie opened both of his eyes, sitting up carefully as to not wake the birthday girl.

"You say it all the time."

"Well...yeah, I suppose I do," he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "No, she isn't, because I don't have a favourite."

Benajamin offered his father a skeptical look, one that clearly said 'I don't believe you.'

“Okay, the truth is, your sister needs more reassurance than you do," he gestured his son to lean in, whispering in his ear, "you're my real favourite."

Benjamin smiled a toothy smile, jumping up from the sofa and happily running up the stairs to his bedroom.

His wife grinned at him from the seat across from him.

"Liar," she whispered.

It was six o'clock when the doorbell rang, and everybody's head lifted to glance at the door from the dining room table.

"Now, who could that be?" Alfie rose dramatically from his chair, his eyes flickering in between his two oldest children, "I wonder if it's Bessie and Benjamin's big present." He strode towards the front door, ignoring his wife's panicked calling of his name.

"About time," he spat at Ollie, motioning for him to come inside, the present following behind the two men apprehensively.

The children were sat up straight in their seats when he returned to the dining room, a smile on his face, their hopeful expressions turning into ones of pure joy when they saw the four legged creature sat at his feet, panting happily.

"Please don't hurt me," Ollie whispered, his eyes fixed on the woman sat at the dining table, a scowl on her face.

"A doggy!" Bessie screamed, jumping down from her chair and running to kneel in front of the animal, Benjamin following her happily.

"It's fucking massive, Alfie," his wife spat, her arms crossed across her chest. "Where did it even come from?"

"Funny story that," he pointed to the Ollie, then to the dog. "Ollie found it, behind the bakery, getting beaten half to death by some cunt, poor thing...truly fucked up what happened to it...and Ollie brought it into the bakery," his wife glared at him but he continued on, "yesterday all this happened, why I was so late home."

"What happened to the owner, dad?" Benjamin asked, patting the happy dog on its head, laughing as she leaned in to lick his face gratefully.

"Well..." Alfie cocked his head to the side, "gave 'im a little warning, didn't I? He won't be harmin' no more dogs, let's put it that way."

"Can we keep her, mum?" Benjamin asked.

"Well I can't say no now, can I?" She huffed, crossing her arms across her chest, unmoved by her children's cheers.

"What's her name?" Bessie asked, hugging the dog around its broad shoulders.

"She don't have one, yet, thought the birthday girl should choose," he leaned down to whisper in her ear. "Don't she look a bit like bubbee?"

"Bubbee!" Bessie squealed, "Name's bubbee!" The dog lurched up at the sound of her new name, knocking the toddler back as it licked her face gently.

"Fucking hell!" Bessie laughed, and her mother's eyes widened.

Alfie's eyes locked with his wife's, and he pointed to the little girl.

"Favourite," he mouthed.

#alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x reader #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons fanfic

186 notes · View notes

obeymeshallwedateaddict · 6 days

Note

Hii! First off, I LOVE your writing.

Secondly, what if during a movie night w/the demon brothers, (bc I am convinced they have them...) they (unknowingly) pick a movie that stars MC. What would each of their reactions be? Could you also do one with the undateables too?

Thx for reading! <3

Heyyyy I wrote your request as a group story because it's thought it's easier than writing for each brother individually. As for the other guys there will be a part two coming soon. Enjoy!

Summary: The brothers and MC are having a movie night and they find out that MC is one of the actors in it.

You can find more of my work here: Masterlist

GN!MC

The brothers' reactions to MC being an actor in a movie

It was a peaceful night in the Devildom. There weren't many hardships during the day and all the brothers were pretty energetic. The eldest wasn't preoccupied with too much work so he was planning on spending the night with a glass of demonus and the sound of record playing in the background while relaxing on the comfortable sofa in his study. All of a sudden though MC along with the rest of the brothers burst through the door of the study just as he was choosing the perfect record for the night. Lucifer shot them a look of tiredness and question before crossing his arms at his chest.

Mammon: Yo, Lucifer! Ya in mood for a movie night? We haven't had those in a while. Whatcha say?

Asmo: Yep <3. I just looove watching a movie while cuddling with someone. Can I pleaseeee cuddle you, Lucifer?

Satan: Guys why don't we just watch it ourselves? Why do we need Lucifer there?

Beel while nibbling on some food: Because... Num.. num num.. we're.. num.. num.. a family, Satan.

Satan rolled his eyes and leaned on the wall behind him.

Satan: Whatever.

Lucifer: Hm.. a movie night you say? We certainly haven't had those in a while... But...

Upon hearing the word "But" MC looked up at the eldest with the most pleading puppy eyes they could manage.

MC: Come ooon, Lucifeeerrr. Pleaseee?

Asmo along with MC: Please~?

Lucifer sighing: Fine, I'll come. But Asmo, my cuddles are reserved for MC. So I'd appreciate it if you keep your distance.

---

Everyone are sitting in the living room, in front of the TV. Satan is passing through the list of movies the brothers have stored in "to watch"

Satan: How about this one? It's a murder documentary.

Asmo shot Satan with an "are you serious?" look before tilting his head to the side and putting a hand over his eyes dramatically.

Asmo: Are you insane, Satan? Please get this out of my sight!! The image of.. blood alone gives me the chills...

Levi: As far as I know you are the only one in the house that enjoys watching this type of thing, Satan.

Satan: That's not true! MC watches them with me all the time.

Belphie: Do they enjoy it though? Or are they doing it out of politeness?

Lucifer: Or perhaps they pity him for watching the documentaries alone so they decide to tag along.

Satan: Lucifer, shut up. I'm not pitiful unlike a certain someone with their classical music obsession.

Lucifer's eyes darken and his gaze pierced through the back of Satan's head.

Lucifer: Satan.

MC gently pokes Lucifer's bicep, signaling him to calm down.

MC: Guys, let's not fight. It's a family movie night!

Beel: Yeah. MC is right.

Mammon pointing at the screen: How 'bout that one? It's some kind of fantasy and horror mix or somethin'. Sounds great to me!

Satan: Yeah. That's not a bad choice either. Should we watch this?

Levi: Yeah. Looks good.

Mammon: Yo Asmo! Ya ain't squeamish about this as well are ya?

Asmo: Well this one doesn't look as bad as the murder documentary. Let's give it a go.

Satan clicks the play button and sits back on the couch. Though what he doesn't expect is to feel someone snuggling against him. He looks down and his eyes widen upon seeing Asmo getting comfortable on his older brother's chest.

Satan: Asmodeus! I never allowed you to snuggle against me!

Asmo: Awwhh come ooonn, Saaataaannn!! What's a movie night without cuddles???

Despite Asmo's winning Satan pushed him away and looked back at the screen.

Asmo: Ugh, Satan! You're so bad! MC, sweetheart, be a doll and come cuddle with me.

Mammon: Don't even think about it, Asmo! MC is sitting with ME right now. It's not your turn yet!

Everybody continue talking until one specific scene gets on the screen and silences the brothers.They are left in a mix of shock and confusion which was clearly visible on their faces.

Mammon: Wait.. That can't be..

Belphie: But it does look like them..

Levi: Could it perhaps be them..?

MC furrows their brows and looks at the brothers with a questioning look.

MC: Guys, what's up? You went silent all of a sudden... Is something the matter..?

All of the brothers take a look at MC before looking back at the screen.

Lucifer: MC, is that... You?

MC looks at the TV and smiles upon seeing themselves on the screen.

MC: Oh yeah! I'm one of the actors in the movie! I completely forgot. Cool isn't it?

Mammon: Wait WHAT?

Satan: MC, you are one of the.. actors? You're starting in this movie?

MC: Yeah?

Levi: What do you mean "Yeah?" This is a serious matter!

Asmo: MC dear, you never told us that you're an actor...

MC: Is it that important that you have to know?

Belphie: Yeah!

Beel: Yes, MC

MC: ...?

Lucifer sighs and punches the bridge of his nose before speaking.

Lucifer: MC, they're just overreacting. This is a matter to be proud of. I've personally heard many good things about this movie.

Mammon: Overreactin'?! Whatcha mean?!?! We ain't overreactin'!!!

Asmo: Yeah this seems pretty important to me! Like I'm sooo into it!! MC, dear, tell me more! Tell me what make up they use, how did they style your hair because it looks fabulous!

Satan: Yes, MC how does it feel to perform on stage in front of a camera?

Levi: Is it hard? Do you get stage fright or camera fright or something? I would honestly prefer to die rather than perform on stage! How do you do it?

MC: Well..

Belphie: Do they let you take naps in between shootings? If it were me I would fall asleep on stage if they didn't let me nap..

Beel: Do they give nice food? Is it free by any chance? How did it taste like.. Mmm my stomach is already growling...

Mammon: How much did they pay ya?! It better be a nice, big amount B'cuz it would be insultin' to not pay ya enough?

MC: Well, first of all..

Lucifer sighing: MC, you don't have to answer all of their stupid questions if you don't feel like it..

MC: No it's fine...

And so MC proceeds to explain everything to the brothers, answering each question they shoot their way with a wide smile on their face. The brothers seem in awe that MC was staring in the said movie. Some of them were proud and others were simply shocked and extremely interested.

After the bunch of questions from the seven brothers the family finally manages to watch the movie. At times someone would point out MC's acting skills or a scene that looked cool.

Sometimes the brothers would brag about MC and their acting potion in said movie since it was well known. And when they had movie nights they'd sometimes watch other movies MC starred in.

117 notes · View notes

billthedrake · 8 months

Text

HALL PASS

Story idea from @aestheticsupremacy

It was still summer warm as the two lacrosse jocks walked across campus after practice. Brian was going on about the chick he had a date with late that evening and was teasing Jake.

"Dude... if you ever wanted pussy, you'd be so set. Girls fucking love gay guys."

Jake laughed, his blond hair still on the lighter side from summer beach time. He and the star attacker got along great because they never BS-ed each other. "Bro, I don't think it works that way," he said, flashing his dimples. "Besides, I think all those sorority girls want a gay pal they can go to the clubs with. I can't dance worth shit."

"You can't," Brian grinned. "You got the moves on the field but, fuck..."

Both guys laughed as they entered the residence hall, one of the nicer ones where a lot of the athletes lived.

"Hey Jake!" the student worker at the front desk said when he saw the two jocks. "Some mail came for you."

"Mail?" he asked as the walked up to the desk. Normally, mail got delivered to their mailboxes, which Jake didn't check regularly. Who the fuck sends mail these days anyway, other than advertisers?

The desk guy nodded. "Yeah, certified or something. Looks important." He reached over and pulled out a document sized cardboard envelope.

"Hey, I'll catch ya later, Hoss," Brian said as he bumped fists with his teammate buddy.

"Yah," Jake said, then looked back down at the envelope. There was a familiar return address. It was his dad's work. Jake's father was a high-powered executive - not Fortune 500 but CFO for a top financial firm. Leave it to Dad to send paperwork in hard copy. Jake tried to rack his brain to guess what document was so urgent, but maybe it was some school form he needed to sign. Maybe Jake should take more responsibility for those things, but his dad tended to look after the details.

"Thanks, Mitch," he told the desk guy, then went to the elevators to go up to his room.

It was quiet in his room, since his roommate had taken off Thursday afternoon to go home for a long weekend. He got along well with Ed, a varsity baseball player, but they weren't real tight. And Jake liked having the alone time and privacy sometimes.

The lacrosse jock set down his phone and keys and shook his head with a chuckle as he opened the envelope. "You're so fucking old school, Dad," he said aloud. "I love it."

It wasn't a form inside, but instead there was a linen-white stationary with his Dad's company logo and his father's name and title embossed. "From the Desk of Steven J. Weir."

It was what was printed below that made Jake's heart stop.

"Dear Mr. Wier:

This letter serves as official notice that Jacob Peter Weir has his father's permission to have sex as often as he likes and with whomever he likes, from the date of August 20, 2023 to May 14, 2024. This arrangement will be extended in subsequent years unless the two parties renegotiate their terms.

sincerely,

Steve Weir"

There was his father's recognizable wide, cursive signature, undoubtedly written with one of his favorite blue-ink fountain pens that his family had given him for Christmas.

Jake was rock hard. "Fuck," he hissed.

Only then did he realize there was something else in the envelope. He reached in and pulled out three photographs, each 8x10 glossy portraits of this father. They were different poses of his dad in business attire, like professional headshots for a company website or something.

"Got your package," the jock texted his father.

It took a second but then a message came up from Dad: "You able to Facetime?"

Jake got a big grin as he hit the dial button to video call his father. His heart jumped a little as the image filled his phone screen. His dad was in his C-suite office and looking handsome as fuck in his tailored suit as his own horny grin matched his son's.

"Hey Sport," he said. "Looking good." He leaned back in his swivel chair and angled the phone to give Jake a better view of his suited upper body. He had a good knowledge by now of what pushed his boy's buttons.

"You too Dad," the jock hissed, reaching down to paw his crotch again. "I can't believe it's only been 24 hours since I've seen your face... fuck."

His father laughed. Because Steve felt the same way. He knew it would be hard when Jake went off to college, but he was going through sexual withdrawal in addition to the normal empty nest syndrome.

Only now his bright smile got a hint of nervousness. "What did you think of what I sent you, son?"

Jake felt that constriction in his throat. Sorta like the first time he knew he was gonna fuck his dad... that combination of sheer horniness and disbelief it was gonna happen.

"You know, Dad," the 19-year-old smirked, "A hall pass isn't an actual piece of paper."

Steve's brown eyes seemed bright. Happy. Excited. "I wanted to make it official. For you. For us." The exec was definitely getting that bedroom voice, and Jake could tell by the movement in his dad's upper body that the man was reaching down to unzip and haul out his cock.

For his part Jake tugged down his shorts with one hand to free his junk, which was firming up real fucking fast. His father had given him the encouragement to freeball it, and it was now Jake's preferred way of casual dress. It made him feel free and sexual.

Jake prided himself on the sexual confidence he'd learned to project with his dad, but times like this he still felt unsure, deep down. "I told you, Dad. I don't need to have sex with other guys."

"You're 18, Sport," his dad said resolutely. "A college kid should be spreading his wings."

Jake got a playful grin. His right hand was working up and down his bone while his left hand held the phone. "You really want me to fuck other guys?" he asked. Pointed. Challenging.

Steve shook his head no. "Honestly, no. I don't. But I want you to lead the life that's going to make you happy." His own fist was working up and down in his lap. "I want you to become your own man, Jakey."

Something about that nickname drove the jock wild. He felt a spurt of precum in his palm. "You think sending me 8x10 glossies is gonna make me happy," he hissed. Jake's tone was halfway between a statement and a question.

Steve loved watching his son get in horndog mode. He'd like to think he passed that on to Jake genetically, but something about the kid's sex drive seemed innate. And all Jake.

The exec's voice got low and gravely. "You tell me, son. Did they make you happy?"

Jake just let go of his prick and angled his phone down to capture the hard teen bone that stood up long and rigid. "This is the reaction those pics got." He pulled the phone back up to see the amused and pleased look on his father's face.

"I'm glad," Steve said. Then with a pause, he angled the phone to show Jake his own fatherly prick, standing out from his unzipped suit.

"I wish I could suck that, Dad," Jake said, enjoying the freedom to talk aloud like this. "I wish I was there right now."

"You primed for some office sex, Sport?"

"Fuuuckk, Dad." Jake's fist was now steadily pumping his jock bone. "I'm still pissed off you won't let me fuck you there."

That got a laugh out of his father. The 49-year-old was even more handsome when he smiled. "You're a spoiled brat, you know that?"

"Fuck yeah I am," Jake shot back, getting into the zone with the teasing sex talk with his father. It came to them so fucking easily. "Something about nailing your dad regularly will make you that way."

That got a soft growl from the executive, and Jake watched as his father reached up to flip his tie over the shoulder of his suit coat, getting it out of the way.

"Damn, you gonna cum on your shirt today, Dad?"

Steve shook his head. "Hopefully not... but just in case. You get me so worked up, Sport." Off screen Jake knew his father had gone back to stroking his hard dick.

"So, Dad... if I take you up on that hall pass... what are you gonna do?"

"Whaddya mean, Jakey?"

"I mean..." the teen's own fist was working up and down his cock. "Does that mean you get a hall pass, too?"

"That's not part of the deal," Steve said, his brown eyes now wide with excitement. "But Buddy... I honestly don't know how I'm gonna get through this year. I guess I'll be doing a lot more of what I'm doing right now."

That got a matching growl from his son, whose hand moved faster and faster on his prick. "A fucking waste of dad cum."

That got a grin from Steve. "You like my sperm, huh, Jakey?"

"Can't get enough, Dad," came the immediate response. For a confident top when it came to fucking, Jake loved to taste his dad's prick and to eat his father's semen. When he wasn't sucking his dad off, he'd be licking the cum off the man's well-fucked body.

The jock felt another spurt of precum when his Dad brought the phone down close to his crotch, that solid, thick seven incher sticking out from the unzipped suit trousers.

"That's my dad," Jake growled. He'd have to find a way to have phone sex more often.

"Wanna cum for me, Jakey?" Steve asked, his voice signaling he was already on the edge.

"Nah," the jock said. "Hold off one second," he urged. He set down the phone and stripped off his T-shirt and kicked away his lax shorts. He then angled the phone just right on his desk and stepped back. Even from the distant view, he could see his dad's face will up the phone screen.

"Damn..." Steve growled. "That's my boy."

Jake felt fully alive, head to toe, as he stroked his cock and showed off for his father. He knew he was a good looking stud, with a great toned, athletic body. But his father's approval made him feel that much studlier.

"So Dad..." the teen asked. "If I used that hall pass, you wanna hear about the guys?"

"I don't know, Sport," Steve said with visible mixed feelings. "I'll let that be your call, OK?" He watched his son intently, as if it was the last chance he'd see Jake naked and hard. "I almost didn't send it," he confessed.

That made his son grin and Jake removed his fist from his dick, showing off the erection by swinging it side to side. "Yeah? It was so fucking hot to read it, Dad. You know, that you'd even send it."

"I'm glad, Jake," came Steve's reply.

"We're you hard writing it?" the son asked.

Steve's voice got soft and low. "I was, son."

"You want me spreading my wings in college, huh?" Jake's hand resumed its stroke. He really wanted his dad to cum first today but he didn't know if he'd be able to hold off.

Fortunately, Steve was getting into the zone now. Jake could only see his face, not his cock or masturbating fist, but he recognized that horny tone in his father's voice. "God, Jakey, you're such a fucking stud... seems wrong if you can't enjoy college a little, you know?"

Jake grinned, getting into a slow stroke that seemed to keep things on the boil without erupting over. "Maybe I'll line up some hot coach to fuck... but you know if I do, I'll be thinking of you the whole time, Dad."

That got an audible groan from Steve. Which only encouraged Jake to go further.

"Yeah, I'll be balls deep in some daddy ass and have to shut my eyes so I can think of my father... of fucking you..."

"Yes," Steve hissed. He was getting closer to cumming.

"of bending my dad over his office desk and pulling down those suit pants of yours..."

"You're not gonna stop pestering till you get that will ya, Jakey?"

"No, sir. I wanna get my way. Nail you hard to that expensive desk of yours... in your expensive suit... to thank you for all that expensive tuition you paid over the years."

This was new territory for the Weirs. They'd never talked about money, other than some of Steve's jokes about how much Jake's private school cost and some practical dad-son talks about personal finance. But Jake was bringing it into the sex talk and both men were surprisingly turned on by it.

"FUCCK!" Steve cried a half second before choking his reaction to be quieter in his office.

"Go for it, Dad!" the lacrosse jock said more openly. He stepped up closer so he could see his dad's face as he rode out an intense orgasm. "Nice!"

Steve's face was flush red as he caught his breath. "Goddamn, I needed that," he said. Then playfully he tilted his phone down. Huge splotches of his pearly white seed dotted his dress shirt after all.

"Cumming!" Jake cried, unable to hold by his ejaculation now. Steve had to look, had to watch his Jakey in full nut. It was just a beautiful sight. The only thing more beautiful was watching Jake orgasm as he was buried deep inside his father.

"Attaboy, Sport," he encouraged. "Goddamn, that's a huge nut."

Jake grinned as he felt the aftershocks. Playfully, he squeezed out dribbles from his long piece of jock meat and brought it up to his lips to taste. Not his dad's but a second best. Jake just loved the flavor of cum.

He could now tell his father was wiping off the cum from his shirt and his cock before pulling the phone back.

"That was incredible," Steve said.

"I'll say. I'll have to thank Rich for giving me the free time," Jake laughed.

"Is he away?"

Jake nodded. "All weekend. Maybe we can go long and deep this weekend, you know, edge a little."

Steve grinned. "I'll try, Sport.... awful hard to last with you, you know."

"Yeah, I know," Jake agreed.

His Dad seemed happy and yet sad at the same time. "Listen, I should go."

"Yeah," Jake said. "I need some dinner."

"I miss ya, Sport," Steve said. "So much."

"Miss ya too, Dad."

****

Steve felt nervous all Saturday. Jake had suggested they wait till later in the day for phone sex. The father tried to kill time with household chores and a super long session at the gym.

"You're a fucking mess, Steve," he said to himself as he drove home from the fitness center where he'd been spending a lot more time since the divorce and especially since he and Jake started fooling around. It felt wrong to be so attached to his own son, and yet he was.

There was a package on his front porch. FedEx Saturday delivery. Steve picked it up.

"What the fuck?" Steve laughed as he saw his son's dorm as the return address. "That little bugger."

As he opened the door and stepped in, the man squished the sides of the plastic package-envelope. It was soft inside. Steve opened the end with the pull tab.

As he pulled out the fabric, Steve Weir recognized the shorts immediately. They were a well-worn pair of Jake's high school lacrosse shorts. Wadded inside was a worn jock strap.

"Jesus," Steve hissed with excitement. Maybe Jake wanted him to have these for their session today. Or maybe this was just for the times it was Steve, alone in his bedroom, imagining a grown son who wasn't there with him.

Either way, Steve knew both the shorts and the jock were gonna be crusted with his own cum before long.

It was only after a second that he noticed scraps of paper on the floor. They'd fallen out, hand torn.

Steve immediately sensed what they were, and a quick look confirmed it. It was the hall pass he'd sent Jake.

"Man, buddy," he said aloud in the quiet room as he pulled out his phone. He had to call his son.

"Hey Dad"

"Oh, Jakey..." Steve said.

"You got it."

"Yeah, I got it," his dad replied. "You're not doing this just to make me happy are you?"

"Maybe," Jake said. "But not really. I don't know, Dad. I just realized I'd rather have blue balls than fuck a substitute you, you know?"

"Sport, that's the most fucking romantic thing anyone's ever said to me," Steve beamed.

That made his son laugh. "Yeah, that's me, one romantic fucker... just promise me one thing, Dad."

"Anything," Steve said.

"We gotta find away to see each other through the semester. Yeah, I know you want me to go off and be my own man. But I can't wait till Thanksgiving. For real, Dad."

"Yeah, we'll make it happen. I'll come down next week. And fly you up whenever you want. Promise." This was a backpedal from the promises Steve made himself when Jake went off, but he realized he was happy changing his stance.

"Cool. God, Dad, I love you."

"Love you too, Jakey," Steve said. He looked down at the scraps of paper and everything they represented. "And son... next time you're here, I'll let you fuck me on my desk."

#drakestories

239 notes · View notes