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buckets-and-trees · 5 months ago

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Now That I Saw You

Characters/Pairings: lawyer!Bucky x curvy!female assistant reader Word Count: 4k Summary: Finally home from the work trip to Norway where things changed with your boss, you are uncertain about what the future means exactly, but eager to see him again. Sequel to What You Want.

Content Warnings: modern AU, slight power dynamic, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, body reverence/worship, use of "plum" as a term of endearment, sex in a semi-public place

Logistical Notes: My August entry for @buckybarnesevents Build-a-Bucky-Bingo using the BODY WORSHIP prompt and week 3 of Hot Bucky Summer hitting up that SOMEONE ELSE'S HOUSE prompt.

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Normal breathing, you thought to yourself as the driver pulled up the drive of the massive estate of Alexander Pierce, one of the senior partners of the law firm where you worked. This was your first time attending the firm’s New Year’s Eve party since you’d only begun working for Bucky in the early spring, and although you were only Bucky’s assistant, you had heard enough directly and indirectly to know that making an appearance here mattered. Bucky had insisted that you didn’t need to feel obligated to come – especially since he’d kept you away from your family over Christmas when the weather had made it impossible to fly home from the business trip to Norway. He had even insisted on paying for flights for you to go straight home instead of making the long drive to your hometown.

What he didn’t know was that you had called and changed your return flight from January 2 to December 31.

Bucky was close to making partner, and you wanted to show that you were one of the small but dedicated team he had in his office that took their work supporting Bucky seriously.

And while being home for some delayed holiday time with your family had been nice, the longer you were there, the more you were itching to get back to New York and figure out what life was going to look like with your boss post-Norway.

Five days of normal business followed by the three “stranded” days of Nordic adventures, shopping, sightseeing, dining, spoiling, and so much sex. So much sex.

With Bucky.

Your boss.

A valet stepped up to open your door as the Uber driver stopped in the circular receiving area of the driveway at the front of the mansion. As you stepped out and began walking up the steps, you were glad you went with the modest heels rather than the strappy high heels your best friend had tried to coax you to pick when you FaceTimed her while getting ready. Since you were nervous about enough other things, you didn’t need to worry about your shoes tonight.

Things like the bolder shade of lipstick you’d put on, or the sexiest dress you’d ever worn, or simply the fact that you didn’t know where everything that happened in Norway left you with Bucky Barnes.

Minor things to trifle over, really.

You gave your name to an attendant at the front. They scanned the list, smiled, welcomed you to the festivities, and gestured toward the staff taking care of a coat check just inside, off to the right of the grand foyer.

As you approached the coat check, you couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding you. The foyer was a masterpiece of marble and gold, with a grand staircase sweeping upwards and crystal chandeliers twinkling overhead. You were enveloped by a pleasantly thick scent of gardenias and champagne, mingling with the soft murmur of conversation and tinkling laughter from the rooms beyond.

You slipped off your coat, revealing the dress you'd agonized over for hours. It was a deep emerald green, hugging your curves before falling in a silky waterfall to your ankles. The neckline dipped low, and the back was even lower, leaving you feeling both sophisticated and slightly exposed.

The attendant handed you a small golden ticket in exchange for your coat, and you tucked it carefully into your clutch. You took a deep breath, steeling yourself for the evening ahead. The butterflies in your stomach were performing an intricate ballet, a mix of excitement and nerves that left you feeling slightly lightheaded.

As you turned to face the grand ballroom, you were immediately enveloped by the soft glow of candlelight and the gentle tinkling of champagne glasses. The room was a vision of elegance, with towering floral arrangements adorning every table and shimmering gold accents catching the light. The air was filled with the gentle hum of conversation and laughter, the tinkling of champagne flutes, and the soft strains of a live orchestra.

You took a tentative step forward, your eyes scanning the crowd for a familiar face. The sea of designer gowns and tailored suits was intimidating, and you found yourself second-guessing your decision to attend. Just as you were considering a hasty retreat, a warm, familiar voice called your name.

"Hey there, stranger! I was hoping you'd make it tonight."

You turned to see Steve Rogers, Bucky's best friend and fellow lawyer at the firm. He approached, moving with a swift grace as he always did, his broad shoulders filling out an impeccably tailored navy suit, a glass of champagne in each hand. He’d be intimidating if you hadn’t forged a wonderfully warm friendship over the past months working in the office. You admired how much he wanted to take care of those around him, unafraid to speak up whenever needed, and equally ready to make someone smile.

Even now, the tension in your shoulders eased at the sight of him and his bright smile.

“Bucky will be happy to see you!”

You ducked your head a moment, taking a sip of the champagne he offered. “He will?”

“I don’t think he could tie his shoes anymore without you,” Steve exaggerated, but the compliment warmed your insides anyway.

Steve offered you his arm and then led you further into the party.

Your senses were overwhelmed by the sheer grandeur of the event. Everywhere you looked, your eyes drank in more exquisite details infusing the atmosphere. You passed by a magnificent ice sculpture of the firm's logo, its edges glinting in the candlelight. You passed by tables laden with delicacies from around the world - tiny caviar-topped blinis, glistening oysters nestled in beds of ice, and delicate pastries that looked almost too beautiful to eat. Waiters in crisp white jackets glided effortlessly through the crowd, their trays balanced with flutes of golden champagne and jewel-toned cocktails.

You couldn't help but feel a bit like Alice tumbling down the rabbit hole. Each new sight was more wondrous than the last. To your left, a living statue covered in shimmering gold paint posed gracefully atop a pedestal, her movements so subtle you had to blink to be sure she was real. To your right, an aerialist in a glittering silver bodysuit performed breathtaking feats on silks suspended from the vaulted ceiling, twirling and spinning in mesmerizing patterns.

Near them, a group of women in shimmering gowns laughed melodiously, their jewelry catching the light with every gesture. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking. You noticed Alexander Pierce himself holding court near a grand fireplace, his silver hair gleaming as he regaled a captive audience with what was surely a riveting anecdote.

As you and Steve wove through the crowd, your eyes continued to roam, searching for one face in particular. The anticipation built with each passing moment, your heart quickening its pace. You nodded politely at a few familiar faces from the office, but your attention was divided, always seeking.

Then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, your gaze was pulled across the room to finally land on Bucky Barnes, looking devastatingly handsome in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo. His dark hair was newly trimmed since you last saw him, sleek in a way that made your fingers itch to rake through it and over his scalp. He was engaged in conversation with a small group, his head thrown back in laughter at something someone had said.

Suddenly, Bucky's attention shifted to you, his eyes locking onto yours across the bustling room. The laughter died on his lips, replaced with a bit of wonder and an impossibly charming grin. Immediately heat was pooling in your stomach, nerves somewhat calmed, but a different itch pitching inside you.

The world seemed to slow down as Bucky excused himself from his group and began making his way towards you. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him approach, his eyes never leaving yours. The crowded room seemed to part for him, or perhaps it was just your imagination playing tricks on you.

As he drew closer, you could see the slight widening of his eyes as he took in your appearance. His gaze traveled slowly from your face down to your toes and back up again, lingering on the curves accentuated by your dress. When his eyes met yours again, they were dark with an intensity that made your skin tingle and memories of your time in Norway together flash vividly through your mind.

"You're here," Bucky said softly as he reached you, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down your spine. "I thought you were still with your family."

You smiled, trying to keep your voice steady. "I wanted to surprise you. I hope that's okay?"

"More than okay," he murmured, his eyes still roaming over you appreciatively. "You look absolutely stunning."

You felt a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself," you replied, taking in his impeccably tailored tuxedo.

Steve cleared his throat beside you, reminding you both of his presence. "I'll leave you two to catch up," he said with a knowing smile, giving Bucky a pat on the shoulder before disappearing into the crowd.

Suddenly alone with Bucky, you felt the air between you crackle with tension. The noise of the party faded into the background as you stood there, lost in each other's gaze.

"Can I get you a drink?" Bucky asked, gesturing towards the bar.

You lifted your half-empty champagne flute. "I could use a refill," you said with a smile.

Bucky's hand found the small of your back as he guided you towards the bar, the possessive heat of his touch sending flames radiating across your skin. You were acutely aware of every point of contact between you, rejoicing and regretting over choosing the dangerously low and exposed back that allowed him skin to skin access in this moment.

As you waited for your drinks, Bucky leaned in close, his breath warm against your ear. "I can't believe you're here," he murmured, his voice low and intimate. "Since Norway, you’ve been on my mind constantly.

Your heart raced at his words, memories of passionate nights, morning, afternoons, and so many stolen kisses streaming through your mind. "I couldn't stay away," you admitted softly. "I needed to see you."

Bucky's eyes darkened with desire, his gaze dropping to your lips. For a moment, you thought Bucky might kiss you right there, in full view of everyone. But he seemed to catch himself, remembering where you were. Instead, he reached past you to collect your drinks from the bartender - a flute of golden champagne for you and a tumbler of amber whiskey for himself.

"Come with me," he murmured, his voice husky and filled with promise. His hand found yours, fingers intertwining as he led you away from the crowded ballroom.

Your heart raced as you followed him down a dimly lit corridor, the sounds of the party fading behind you. Moonlight streamed through tall windows, casting long shadows across the polished marble floor. His fingers tightened around yours as he glanced back, a roguish glint in his eyes.

At the end of the hall, he paused before an ornate wooden door. With a quick look around, he turned the handle and drew you inside. You found yourself in a luxurious study, shelves of leather-bound books lining the walls and a grand desk dominating the center of the room.

Bucky took your glass and his and set them on the desk. Then his strong arms encircled your waist and drew you to him. "We shouldn't be in here," you whispered, even as excitement coursed through your veins.

"Shh," he replied, pulling you closer. His lips found yours in a searing kiss that made your knees weak. You melted against him, hands roaming over the broad planes of his shoulders.

As Bucky's lips moved against yours, all thoughts of propriety and caution melted away. Your hands slid down his chest, fingers curling into the lapels of his tuxedo jacket as you pulled him closer. The kiss deepened, pent-up longing and desire pouring out between you.

Bucky's hands roamed your back, tracing the exposed skin left bare by your daring dress. And the way he touched you? Reverently worshipping the curves and plump flesh you were usually so insecure about? This was why you dared to show more than you typically did. He made you believe you were gorgeous. His touch ignited sparks along your spine, each caress stoking the fire building within you. You gasped as he nipped at your lower lip, using the opportunity to sweep his tongue into your mouth.

The taste of whiskey on his lips mingled with the lingering champagne on yours, creating an intoxicating blend that left you dizzy with want. You pressed yourself closer, desperate to eliminate any space between your bodies. He slipped a finger beneath the strap on your shoulder and pushed it down, tugging until he freed one of your breasts. He hummed as he began to palm it with his large hand, and you arched into his touch.

Suddenly, Bucky broke the kiss, and spun you around. You gasped and brought both hands out to steady yourself on the edge of the desk.

Bucky's lips traced a burning path down the curve of your neck, pausing to nip gently at the sensitive spot where it met your shoulder. You shivered as his warm breath ghosted across your skin, goosebumps rising in its wake. His kisses continued their southward journey, open-mouthed heat following the elegant line of your spine.

Each press of his lips felt like a spark igniting your nerve endings. The cool air of the study contrasted sharply with the heat of his mouth, creating a delicious tension that had you trembling. As he moved lower, his hands skimmed down your sides, fingers tracing the curves of your waist and hips with reverent appreciation.

As Bucky sank to his knees behind you, his hands slid down to your hips, his breath now teasing the small of your back. The anticipation built, your heart racing as you felt him gather the silky fabric of your dress in his hands, lifting it inch by tantalizing inch. The whisper of the material against your skin was electric, heightening every sensation. When he reached your hips, he paused, his fingers tracing the lace edge of your panties.

"You're exquisite," he murmured, his voice rough with desire.

Slowly, reverently, he began to peel your panties down. The delicate lace clung to your curves before giving way, sliding down your thighs.

You shivered as the cool air hit your exposed skin, a mix of anticipation and nervousness coursing through you. Bucky's hands caressed your thighs, urging them apart, his touch both soothing and electrifying. You could feel his hot breath against your most intimate areas, causing a fresh wave of arousal to wash over you.

"God, I've missed you," Bucky groaned, his voice husky with desire. "Missed tasting you."

Without further preamble, he leaned in and ran his tongue along your slit, eliciting a gasp from you. Your fingers gripped the edge of the desk tighter as he began to explore you with his mouth, his skilled tongue alternating between long, languid strokes and quick, teasing flicks.

You bit your lip to stifle a moan, acutely aware of the party continuing just down the hall. One of his hands snaked around to caress your breast, rolling your nipple between his fingers. The dual sensations had you panting, struggling to keep quiet as waves of pleasure washed over you. The thought of being caught only added to the intensity of sensations swirling through your body.

Bucky's tongue worked magic between your thighs, alternating between broad strokes and focused attention on your most sensitive spots. Your legs trembled as the pleasure built, threatening to overwhelm you. You bit down on your lip, desperately trying to muffle the moans that threatened to escape.

"Let me hear you, plum," Bucky murmured against your heated flesh. "I want to know how good I'm making you feel."

His words sent a shiver through you, and you allowed a soft whimper to escape.

Encouraged, Bucky redoubled his efforts, his tongue circling your clit with increasing pressure. One of his hands slid up your inner thigh, and you gasped as he slowly pushed two fingers inside you.

The dual sensations of his tongue on your clit and his fingers curling inside you had you seeing stars. Your hips began to move of their own accord, grinding against his face as you chased your release. The coil of tension in your core wound tighter and tighter, ready to snap at any moment.

Just as you were about to tumble over the precipice, the sound of approaching voices in the hallway made you freeze. Panic mingled with arousal as you realized how exposed you were, bent over the desk of what had to be Alexander Pierce’s private study.

But Bucky was undeterred, and you bit your lip to stifle your moans, acutely aware that you were in a semi-public space. The thought of getting caught only added to the thrill, your arousal only surging more, lapped up by his wicked tongue. He worshipped at the altar of your sex with so much devotion, you weren’t quite ready to think about the implications of yet.

Bucky's fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot that made your toes curl. His tongue continued its relentless assault on your clit, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of ecstasy. The voices in the hallway grew closer, and your heart pounded with a mixture of fear and exhilaration.

"Bucky," you whispered urgently, your voice trembling. "Someone's coming."

He hummed against you, the vibrations sending shockwaves through your body. "Then you better come first," he murmured, his voice muffled but determined.

The voices in the hallway grew louder, and you could make out snippets of conversation about quarterly reports and market projections. Your heart raced, torn between the need for release and the fear of discovery.

Bucky, however, seemed to relish the added excitement. His ministrations became more intense, his tongue flicking rapidly against your sensitive bud while his fingers curled inside you, hitting that perfect spot with each thrust. The combination of pleasure and danger pushed you closer to the edge.

"Come for me," Bucky whispered against your heated flesh, his breath sending shivers through your body. "Let go, plum. I've got you."

His words were your undoing. The tension that had been building inside you finally snapped, and you came with a silent scream, your body shuddering as waves of pleasure washed over you. Bucky's mouth and fingers worked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled as the aftershocks of your orgasm rippled through you. Bucky's touch gentled, his fingers slipping out of you as he pressed soft kisses to your inner thighs. The voices in the hallway faded, moving past the study door without pause.

With shaky hands, you pushed yourself up from the desk, your breath still coming in quick passes. Bucky helped drop the fabric of your dress back down to the floor and rose to his feet behind you. He turned you back around to face him and brought you back into his arms. You could feel the hard line of his arousal pressing against you, but he seemed unconcerned over seeking his own relief.

"You're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing your forehead. "So beautiful when you come undone for me."

He dipped down and pressed a kiss to the swell of your still exposed breast before then bringing your dress back up and over your shoulder, setting it completely right again.

Your hands slid up to loop around his neck. His eyes were dark with desire, his lips slightly swollen from his ministrations.

"That was…" you trailed off, unable to find the right words.

"Amazing," Bucky finished for you. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. You could taste yourself on his tongue, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through you.

But before either of you could be tempted into anything else, the voices in the hall returned.

"I'm telling you, Alexander, the Ultron account is a goldmine waiting to happen," a booming voice declared footsteps drew closer.

Bucky quickly reached for the drinks on the desk, pressing your champagne flute into your fingers. The he dipped to the floor, snatched up your panties, and pocketed them. You bit your lip, and he smirked at you.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm, Wilson, but I'm not convinced the risk is worth the potential reward," came Alexander Pierce's measured reply as the door opened.

"Barnes! There you are," Alexander Pierce's voice boomed as he entered the study, followed by two other senior partners. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure everyone could hear it.

Bucky turned, his body language relaxed and confident despite almost being caught in a compromising position.

"Mr. Pierce," Bucky greeted smoothly, his voice betraying none of the tension you felt. "I was just showing my assistant the impressive library you have here. We both share a passion for rare first editions."

You nodded. "It's truly remarkable," you managed, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

Pierce's eyes narrowed slightly as he looked between you and Bucky, but his expression remained neutral. "Indeed it is," he said, moving towards one of the bookshelves. His hand swept over one of the shelves. "I'm particularly fond of this Hemingway collection. However, I’m afraid I can’t entertain you with its history and how I had to hunt them down presently. I’m actually glad we found you, Barnes. We have some urgent matters to discuss regarding the Stark Industries merger. I’d like to bring you in on it, if you’re game."

"Of course, sir,” Bucky nodded, his professional mask slipping for only the briefest of moments, but you saw the excitement there for the opportunity presented.

"Excellent," Pierce said, clapping his hands together. "Gentlemen, have a seat." He turned to you, his smile polite but dismissive. "Thank you for your interest in the collection, and, please, enjoy the rest of the party."

You nodded, understanding the clear directive. "Of course, Mr. Pierce. Thank you for your hospitality."

As you moved to leave, Bucky caught your eye. His gaze was intense, filled with unspoken promises. "I'll find you," he mouthed silently, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips.

You felt a shiver run down your spine as you slipped out of the study, leaving Bucky to his impromptu meeting. Your mind was reeling from the events of the last few minutes - the passionate encounter with Bucky, the near-miss of being caught. Mostly, though, you were happy you had come after all and were eager to spend the rest of the evening with Bucky. At a party like this where business and pleasure stood side by side, you knew the host couldn’t be gone in his study for long, and then Bucky would return to your side, and you’d be able to ring in the New Year just right.

Read more stories from the Deliciously Debauched Labor Day Weekend!

It's been SO LONG since we've seen these two! I hope it was a nice return to them.

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#bucky barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #female reader #babb2023 #hotbuckysummer2024 #aspen wrote something #what you want #deliciously debauched labor day weekend

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f1smutwriter · 4 months ago

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| 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐔𝐬 (𝐜𝐥𝟏𝟔, 𝐥𝐧𝟒)

Dom!Charles x Dom!Lando x inexperienced!Reader

Pt1, Pt2

Summary: when Charles needed some help to explain what other sexual thing he could do to his girlfriend.

Warning:SMUT!, threesome, oral (fem and male), anal, dirty talk, mention of different kinks, praising, degrading, orgasm control, fingering, overstimulation, edging, sex toys, dom/sub situation, needy reader, begging kink, a lot of foreplay, voyeurism kink, spanking (ass, and clit), slight BDSM, hair pulling, spitting, extreme mean Charles, and more that I probably missed

Notes: Part 3 and omg Charles and lando threesome been on my list of books. So what better not then to freaking do it with this small series. Please if you want more series just asked and I will deliver. Hope you enjoy!!

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As I get ready for a little dinner with Charles and his friends, he told me to dress nice. Then I see him come in the room with a box making me looking at him weird. “What is that” I asked putting earrings making him smirk at me. But not any smirk, it was your in trouble smirk making me feel a bit nervous. "You know how we said we were gonna be more open to sexual things" He said as I nod before looking at him.

"Do you trust me" He whispered in my ear making me nod instantly. He takes out a pair of panties, giving them to me while I look at him completely confused. “I already have panties on” I reminded him causing him to smirk. “Just take those off. These are better” He grumbled grabbing my waist and pulling me close to his body. I do what he wanted placing the panties I had on, on the table before he grabbed me and kissed my neck. “Today is gonna be so much fun. You’re gonna love it Ma chérie” He whispered nibbling on my neck while I put the new pair of panties on.

We finished getting ready, and went to the car. He opened the door for me, feeling myself blush. “Thank you baby” I say softly while I go into the car. “You’re welcome princess” He smirked while closing my door. He sat down on the drivers side holding my thigh. “Ready for this extremely boring dinner” He says dramatically while squeezing my thigh but something was off. He was wearing his smirk that was only around when he showed me stuff.

“Why are you smiling like that” I asked him making him snort out as if he knew something I didn’t. “No reason Mon amour just excited that’s all” he whispered as he drives to the place with his hand on my thigh rubbing it once in a while. I just ignored his smirk and continued to look out the window. Until I feel something vibrate against my pussy causing a gasp to leave my lips. “W-what is that” I moaned gripping his arm.

“Called vibrating panties and I have the control to them” He smirked making the settings go higher. I moaned loudly feeling the vibrations go directly on my clit, I squeeze my eyes shut and let the feeling take over. “So sensitive huh baby. Is it making your pretty pussy feel good" He mocked me feeling myself nod without a second thought. He stopped it letting me take a breather for a few minutes. He turned on the cold air since he saw me flushed and sweating. He started chuckling putting his hand back on my thigh like nothing happened. But I was soaking my panties praying it wouldn't leak to my dress.

"Were here" He smiled trying to act all innocent like he didn't just do the most evil thing ever. He gave the keys to the Valet and opened my door helping me out. All you could hear is people yelling for him and cameras flashing trying to ask questions. "Ready baby" He asked lovingly kissing my head. "Ready" I whispered the paparazzi still getting me a bit nervous. We made our way to the building his hand on the lower back guiding me through the crowd.

We went inside and go towards our table where all our friends were. I sat in the middle of Charle and Lando. About 30 minutes into the dinner I feel the vibrations on my clit making gasp. I looked at Charles with a shocked face since it was on full blast. "Y/n are you okay" Kika asked Pierres girlfriend and one of my best friends out of all of the wags, well her and Lily. "Yeah I-i'm okay" I stuttered trying to talk normal. Charles leaned into me whispering into my ear. "You think that's me love. It came with two controls, try to find out who has the second one" He smirked kissing my head.

I bite my tongue trying not to moan out loud and embarrass myself. All of a sudden I heard a snicker next to me, making me turn and see Lando biting his lip to not laugh hard. Then I hear Charles chuckle lowly finally connecting the dots. “You got Lando in on this” I whimpered as Lando turned the vibrator on once again. “I told you we were gonna teach you did I not” he smiled as he moves his hand under the table and slips two fingers into my panties.

Lando looked down watching Charles fingers slip into my tight hole. I bite my lip gripping landos thigh trying my hardest to hold in a loud moan. “Y/n are you sure you’re good” Kika asked again making sure everything was okay. “Yes I’m sure just my stomach it’s been hurting” I say lying through my teeth so she didn��t know what was going on under the table. “I can take you home Mon amour it’s not a big deal” Charles acts worried like he was the one doing all of this to me. “Yeah you should take her home she does not look well” Pierre says concerned about my healthy. He slips his fingers out of me, causing me to let go of Landos leg.

Charles gave Lando a small nod telling him to come with us. “Yeah I should get going to it’s getting late and I have some stuff to do with max tomorrow for a new video” Lando lied making everyone say bye to all three of us. “You better pray sweet girl because we’re not going easy” Lando whispered seductively in my ear causing me to gasp out.

On the drive home it was quiet, maybe a little too quiet. I was in the back seat while Lando and Charles were in the front checking on me through the mirror. "Tu vas bien là-bas Mon cher" Charles asked me softly causing me to nod my head yes. "Your gonna have so much fun okay, don't worry your pretty head" He reassured me putting his hand on my thigh. (Are you okay back there my dear)

I felt the car stop causing me to shiver a little bit knowing what’s gonna happen next. They both turn with their famous smirks on their face. “Ready baby” Charles whispered softly making me blush at his thick accent. “Yeah” I whispered looking down at my lap feeling a bit nervous. Lando opens my door helping me out, I grab onto his hand getting out. I smiled as I feel both of their hands on my waist holding me. I get lead up the stairs to mine and Charles bedroom. “Your heart is beating so fast princess. Are you nervous” Lando whispered in my ear feeling my panties getting soaked.

“No she’s not nervous, she’s horny” Charles smirked leading me upstairs. He opened the door holding me and pushing me on the bed. I whimpered slightly squeezing my thighs together. “What’s wrong darling is your pussy needy” lando teased rubbing my thighs softly making me open my legs wide. “No none of that, you know I don’t like when your a needy slut” Charles said sternly with his eye brow raised. “I’m sorry” I whimpered squeezing my thighs shut releasing some pressure from my went cunt.

“There’s my good girl” Charles said rubbing my body softly feeling myself lean in more. He kissed me softly holding my hair. I whimpered in the kiss as he starts getting more aggressive slipping his tongue in my mouth. I tried to keep up with his pace but I couldn’t which caused him to laugh a little bit at me. “Is my girl trying to keep up” he whispered in my neck as he gives it slightly kisses.

“Stop your being mean” I blushed bright red looking down at my lap. He just snickered at me with his eyes filled with pure lust. “Baby I’m not being mean, but if that’s what you want I’ll be meaner” he whispered with the most raspy voice I’ve heard. I whimpered the second I heard it, causing me to look at him and Lando.

“Aww are you wet, did he make you wet darling” Lando teased rubbing my thighs softly. He slowly massaged my thighs making me whimper. His hand slowly moved up to my pussy. Once his fingers made contact with my soaking panties he groaned rubbing them softly, giving me the tiniest bit of friction. I whined bucking my hips making Charles give me that look that says ‘behave’.

Lando went on his knees in front of me kissing my thighs gently. I looked down at him as he was leaving sloppy kisses all the way up to my core. He looked up at me to ask if he could take it off making me nod frantically. He chuckled softly taking off my panties looking at my pussy properly. “You have such a pretty pussy darling” he whispered to me his hot breath so close to it. Before I could answer he took a large strip from my hole to my clit making me moan. He started eating me out like he’s been doing it to me for years.

I moaned going to grip his hair but knowing the rules I had to ask permission. “Please may I touch you” I moaned as he sucked my clit as I tried to get my sentence out. He hummed against me holding my thighs tight to make sure I didn’t move away from his mouth. I cried out gripping his dark brown curls, my head thrown back in pure white hot pleasure from his skilled tongue. You could easily tell Lando has done this multiple times just by the way he was doing it.

I whined out getting so close to my orgasm and Charles knew by the way I was whining, so he immediately grabbed lando by the hair and pull him away from my pussy. “Mate what are you doing” Lando said a bit frustrated that he didn’t make me cum. “She’s close and she doesn’t deserve it yet” Charles explained making me whine out needing to cum. He gave me that scary look again causing me to behave in an instant. “Should he finger that pretty pussy I love Mon amour” He whispered in my ear before slapping my clit harshly, I whined from the slight stinging sensation. All I did was nod stupidly slowly getting dumber and dumber by the minute.

“Sweet baby is getting so dumb for us huh, drooling like a dumb girl” he mocked in a mean voice while I whined in protest. He just chuckled and told Lando to finger my pussy good. I gasped all the air out of my lungs when Lando slammed two of his thick fingers in my tight hole. It was the most toe curling pleasure I’ve felt in days. I screamed out as he fingered my tight hole fast and quick like it was his job. I tried to grab his wrist to slow him down but, Charles slapped my clit once more to stop me.

“Stop before you don’t get to cum the rest of the night” he warned causing me to whined loudly to him leaving my hands to the side. I felt that familiar knot in my stomach I feel all the time. “Close, please let me cum” I cried out as Lando’s fingers showed me no mercy. Once I said I was close he went even fast which I didn’t know it was possible but it was with Lando’s hand. “I don’t know Charles should we let her cum. Has she deserved it” Lando teased as he curled his fingers hitting my g-spot perfectly.

“Probably not but should we just let her” Charles mocked back with that same smirk on his face. That smirk meant I wasn’t gonna cum not anytime soon. “No she shouldn’t” Lando says pulling his fingers out causing me to cry out even more. My eyes filled with tears from the denial of my orgasms, my body shaking from the pleasure and slight pain. “It’s okay chérie wanna know why” Charles grinned biting his lip looking at my fucked out body. “W-why” I mumbled feeling so tired to even talk.

“Because we’re gonna fuck you now. Want that, want me and lando to fill both of your tight holes” he teased pulling my hair so I could look up at him. All I did was nod before laying my head down gently. He took out the lube and a vibrator which I knew they were gonna torture me with. “Go easy on her. This is her first time doing anal” Charles mentioned looking at lando with a stern look.

“Don’t worry mate she’s in good hand” Lando chuckled with his British accent getting more apparent. He slowly put lube on his fingers on my puckered hole, before slowly pushing in one finger in. I whimpered at the new feeling I felt, I clenched right away trying to get used to it. “Relax darling it’ll get better soon” he whispered slowly scissoring it to stretch it out just right to fit all of him. He gently pushed in a second finger making me cry out in slight pain, all Charles did was shush me watching the whole entire thing.

“Think she’s good” Lando whispered before undo this belt and pulling down his pants. Charles did the same thing making me drool at the sight of their big cocks. Charles saw me staring at him get undressed so he put his cock closer to my lips. “Go ahead baby” he encouraged me causing my lips to wrap around his pink tip. He groaned the second he felt my tongue on him. “Just a taste” he grunted before pulling it out of my mouth. He looked at lando telling him to go ahead, so he gently rubbed lube all over his thick cock.

He positioned his tip to my hole before pushing in slowly. I gasped loudly at the slight discomfort I felt. Once he bottomed out he whispered sweet nothings to me to get my mind off the pain. “Ready baby I’m gonna go next” Charles tells me softly before pushing his cock into my tight cunt, all I did was gasp and hide into his chest feeling full to the brim.

They both started moving together gently so they didn’t hurt me. I gasped at the feeling go two cocks fucking me causing them to go harder. “Does that feel good baby. Do you like having to cocks stuffed in you” Charles grunted fucking me harder, but all I did was moan to him. I felt so light head it was unbearable pleasure I was feeling. Lando smirked giving Charles the vibrator while I wasn’t looking. He turned it on and put it directly on my clit. I screamed out in tears of pleasure, feeling the bubbling sensation in my stomach.

“Gonna cum please can’t hold it” I sobbed feeling so close to the edge that I might pass out. “Not yet you don’t get to cum. Wait for lando and I’ll let you” Charles whispered to me feeling myself nod frantically at his words. I heard Lando moaned lowly feeling his orgasm getting closer and closer each thrust he took. I clenched around him as he moaned in my neck. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” he grunted thrusting in and out faster and faster.

Out of nowhere he moaned stuffing my hole with his hot cum. He groaned riding out his orgasm a few more seconds more. I looked at Charles pleading to see what he’d say and all he did was nod telling me it was okay. I gasped out moaning loudly cumming all over his cock throwing my head back into Lando’s chest. I whimpered when he stuffed my cunt with his got seed making sure it went in deep. I laid down lifeless from the intense orgasm I just had. “You okay baby girl” Lando mumbled in my neck as Charles went to go get towels and water.

My legs were trembling when Charles came back and cleaned us up. “You staying” he whispered to Lando softly cleaning him up. “I don’t want to bother you guys” he mumbled getting up but I whined loudly pouting up at him. “Please stay want you to cuddle with me and cha” I whimpered in his neck, he looked at Charles and he nodded yes. Charles kissed Lando’s head before going behind me and hold Lando and I. That night I was cuddled til we all fell asleep from an intense night of pleasure.

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Notes: I’m so sorry guys I didn’t mean to leave you guys for 3 WHOLE MONTHS. I promise I’ll post more, and maybe do a little serious for Halloween. I wanted to try kinktober but I’m a bit scared but we’ll see. Anyways I hope you guys all enjoyed this little series and I’ll make sure to do more just request it they are always open. Anyways have a good day loveys see you soon <3

#f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #f1 smut #formula 1 smut #charles leclerc smut #lando norris f1 #lando norris fanfic #lando norris smut #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x oc #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc f1 #f1 fic #charles leclerc blurb

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gguk-n · 7 months ago

Text

Luxury in Love's blind spot (Arthur Leclerc x fwb!reader)

[Set up- Reader is the grand-daughter of one of the richest man in the world. Maybe Arthur and the reader are a bit of a red flags in this.]

Summary- It’s never a good idea to get into a friends with benefit situation with an attractive man. You’ll only have your heart broken

Ending

[Reader's POV]

The first time me and Arthur met was on my birthday. I was out with a couple of friends in Monaco when I met Arthur in a club; I was a little tipsy and he was cute and too attractive to not take home for the night. I was drunk and horny and Arthur was willing to entertain me.

That night Arthur and I, ended up in my bed with some of the best sex I've ever had. This turned into a proper agreement; I was literally flying back to Monaco just to fuck Arthur with some of the most expensive gifts I could get my hands on. It was how I showed my love and appreciation, I told myself. I had become exclusive to Arthur. This felt like those stupid books where the reader falls in love with her friend with benefit when they explicitly said they shouldn't. But what was I supposed to do. The only person in my life that seemed to genuinely care about me was him. He would text me asking if I had food, or how the classes were. Sometimes, I wished I was doing my Masters in Monaco and not the UK but the flight was quite short. So, I would constantly be back in Monaco whenever he was around.

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Arthur was in the UK due to the race. I was very happy that we would get to hang out. I had tried to invite him over to family gatherings, as a friend obviously since I realised that I had started liking him. But he had always been busy due to the race or for some other reason. I felt a little disappointed but what could I do. He had apparently never mentioned me to his family; I only found that out when I went to meet him at the hotel when he was in the UK.

I handed the keys to my Porsche, to the valet and walked towards his Hotel room with a large bouquet of flowers, a box of his favourite chocolates from Italy, a new Rolex and a separate bag with some more chocolates for his brothers. I pressed the button to his floor on the elevator which took me there. I walked towards his room; knocking the door. A shocked Arthur opened the door. "Hi!!" I greeted, I wanted to hug him but my hands were full. "Why did you come here? I told I'd meet you at your place." Arthur muttered. "I wanted to surprise you." I exclaimed. "How did you get my room number?" he asked. "You told me silly, a couple days back, remember. Now, my hands hurt. Can I put this down?" I asked. Arthur reluctantly let me in. I saw both his brothers sat on the bed and chair. I placed the stuff on the table and greeted them. They looked at me confused. Arthur stepped in and told them I was a friend and that we would be leaving now. I handed them the bag of chocolates I got for them. "This is for you, as an apology. I'm gonna be stealing Arthur away for a couple days now." I giggled. "And these are for you, darling." I continued, placing the bouquet in Arthur's hands. He pulled me away, "Why'd you get all this?" he questioned. "I always get you stuff when I visit." I mumbled. "Well, you didn't have to. Let's leave." he dragged me out without even greeting his brothers good bye.

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The day of my graduation is when shit hit the fan. My family couldn't make it because my younger sibling was graduating and a Master's wasn't even a big deal they said. I asked Arthur if he could come but he was busy too. So, I spent my graduation alone. Until I got a call from Arthur the next day, so instead of flying back home, I flew to Monaco.

We hung out at Arthur's place getting drunk. "You don't usually get this drunk." Arthur commented. "I just wanna forget everything" I slurred. I reached out and pressed a kiss against his lips. "Let's get you some water." Arthur said getting up from the sofa. "I only need you" I said while pulling him back down. Arthur laughed, "sure, but only when you're sober." I straddled his lap while cupping his cheeks, "Please, don't leave, like everyone does." I begged with tears in my eyes. "I'm not going anywhere." Arthur whispered. "Promise?!" "Promise" he replied. "Because I love you so much" I mumbled. "You don't know what you're saying" Arthur sighed. "Drunk words are sober thought, babe." I replied. "Let's talk about this when you're sober." he suggested. "I don't think I'll have the courage to tell you this when I'm sober. I love you Arthur Leclerc, I have for a while. Sorry for breaking the agreement. I just couldn't help falling for you when you were so nice to me. But I know you don't feel that way. I've seen the way you are ashamed to be seen with me. That's the reason you've never invited me to your races or introduced me to your family or met mine, matter of fact." I rambled. "I-I-I" Arthur stammered. "It's ok sweet heart. I would be ashamed to be seen with me too." I let out a dry laugh. The lump in my throat was bigger and my eyes hurt. "I wish you loved me." I sighed "If you ever truly cared for me for even a moment then you'll reject me. So that I can finally move on from you." I suggested. "I'm sorry, I can't love you the way you want me too." Arthur said. Those words pierced my heart like a knife, I wiped away the tears that had started falling from my eyes.

This whole conversation had sobered me, I got up and started grabbing my stuff. "Where are you going?" Arthur asked. "Home, Arthur." I replied. "It's so late, stay the night." he requested. "It's ok, my assistant will come pick me up. Don't worry about me" I said while stumbling out of the door on call with my assistant.

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writingwithciara · 5 months ago

Text

fancy friends for the summer -quinn hughes-

summary: quinn attends y/n’s cousins wedding with her, but as a friend

word count: 4.6k

pairing: quinn hughes x reader

notes: why do i keep doing this to myself 😩

"jack, i need a favor!" y/n called out as she walked into jack & luke's apartment.

"what's up?" jack emerged from the kitchen.

"my cousin is getting married in michigan and i told him i was bringing a date."

"okay. when is it?"

"next monday. which means we would need to be in michigan by sunday night. i'm sorry it's short notice but i completely forgot i checked the plus one box until he called me earlier."

"i would love to be your date, but i got a game that day."

"and if you have a game, that means luke would also be unavailable. damn it." y/n sighed and leaned against the counter.

quinn, who had been sitting on the couch, turned his head. "you do know that jack has another brother, right?"

"oh, right. sorry quinn." y/n walked over to him. "do you want to be my date?"

"yes." he said a little too eagerly. he coughed to cover it up. "should be fun."

"are you sure? there's gonna be a lot of questions."

"yeah i'm sure. i'm a hockey player who gets interviewed a lot. i can handle questions."

"okay perfect. i owe you a huge favor." y/n smiled and went back to the kitchen to talk to jack.

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when the day of the wedding rolled around, y/n and quinn were getting ready at the lake house since it was only a 10 minute drive from the wedding venue.

quinn had been waiting for y/n down in the living room for nearly 20 minutes before she came in wearing a light blue dress. this wasn't the first time quinn had seen her all dressed up, as she had attended multiple events for the NHL with him and his brothers. but there was something different about this time that he couldn't put his finger on.

"wow. you clean up nice, hughes."

"why do you sound so surprised? you've seen me dressed up before." quinn chuckled as y/n approached him and adjusted his tie a bit.

"i know. but no matter how many times i see it, i can never get used to you looking this good." y/n smiled and grabbed her phone. "alright let's go."

y/n walked out to quinn's car and got in carefully. quinn climbed in and began the short drive to the venue.

when they arrived, he handed his keys to the valet and looked at y/n, who was nervously smoothing out her dress.

"ready?" he held out his arm for her to take and she smiled, taking it gently before following quinn inside. they found their seats and waited for the ceremony to begin.

"so, are you really prepared for all the questions you're gonna get at the reception?"

"pretty much. but just in case, can you give me a rundown of what i might expect?"

"of course." she leaned closer and whispered. "there's gonna be a lot of 'relationship' questions and i know you keep your life private but this is my family. they know a lot about you already. but regardless, they're gonna ask a lot about us. is that alright?"

"nothing i can't handle." he smiled and squeezed her hand.

the ceremony started moments later and normally, everyone would be staring at the bride and groom but quinn's gaze constantly drifted over to y/n. he couldn't figure out why. he knew he wasn't attracted to her. maybe it was the setting of the day making him feel this way.

at the reception, it only got worse for quinn. he danced with y/n for the first couple of songs before he had to take a bathroom break. when we got back, y/n was dancing close with someone quinn didn't know. he knew for sure he wasn't a family member so he figured the guy was from the bride's family.

instead of interrupting what looked like a good time, quinn decided to sit back at their table.

y/n, who was dancing with the bride's brother, noticed quinn sitting alone and excused herself to go over to him. when she sat down, she smiled. "you having fun, quinn?"

"surprisingly, yes. usually i don't go to weddings but this one has been fun."

"if you don't usually do weddings, why'd you agree to come with me?" y/n smiled.

"the company was never this good, i guess." quinn smiled back at her as he sipped his own drink. he set his glass back on the table and looked at her. "so, who was that you were dancing with when i got back from the bathroom?"

"why? you jealous?"

"not even slightly." but he felt like that was a lie. "just don't want any of your family to get the wrong idea. that's all."

"don't worry. he's the bride's brother and he'd probably rather dance with you, if i'm being honest." she sent a playful wink quinn's way.

"oh." suddenly realization hit him. "oh. got it." he chuckled and looked down at his nearly empty glass. "wanna dance?"

"yes, i do." y/n smiled and took his outstretched hand, following him quickly to the dance floor just as a slow song began playing. "what a coincidence. i was just singing this song in my head."

"i believe it." quinn smiled as he started dancing with y/n. there was a moment shared between them was incredibly intimate and even though no words were exchanged, they both knew their connection was much stronger for it.

y/n giggled as quinn spun her around the dance floor slowly. and as he pressed her body closer to his, they both realized it was the closest they had ever been.

the song felt like it was never going to end, but neither of them cared much. they were enjoying the moment. so when the song did finally end, y/n pouted a little. she hoped quinn didn't notice her shift in mood, but he definitely did. it was hard not to when he was feeling the same way.

"if you want, we can head back to the lake house." he grinned as they took their seats at the table again. he sipped his drink slowly and was thankful he decided to go the non-alcoholic route. y/n didn't hesitate to nod.

they said their goodbyes and got in the car. before they were out of the parking lot, quinn had reached over the console and grabbed y/n's hand. when she didn't pull it away, he squeezed it gently.

when they got back to the lake house, y/n went to the guest room while quinn went across the hall to his own room.

"tonight was a lot of fun. thanks for being my date for the night."

"yeah. it was no problem. i had a great time." quinn smiled. "good night."

and they both went into their rooms as if there was never a moment shared between them.

just as y/n was getting settled into her bed, quinn knocked on her door. he didn't wait for her to respond before he came in.

"are we just going to pretend that there wasn't a moment between us at the wedding, and then again on the car ride home?"

"no. we're not going to pretend."

"okay good." quinn walked over to her slowly and kissed her softly. it wasn't his intention for things to escalate but when y/n pulled him down to join her on the bed, he couldn't help but follow her lead.

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after they left michigan, quinn went back to vancouver and y/n went to new jersey. she needed to tell jack what happened.

"jack, are you home?"

"yes. what's up?"

"i need to talk to someone."

"okay. what about?" jack set his bowl down on the coffee table and turned his attention from the tv to y/n as she sat next to him.

"the wedding."

"did something happen?"

"yeah. i slept with quinn."

"wait, what?"

"that's exactly how i reacted to when we woke up the next morning." she sighed. "i don't know why it happened. we're not even attracted to each other."

"are you sure about that?" luke entered the living room and sat on the chair. jack and y/n gave him a look. "i was listening in the hallway."

"okay, well i can't speak for him but i can honestly say that i am not attracted to your brother."

"i believe you." jack smiled. "i don't think quinn is attracted to you either, which is weird."

"if they're not attracted to each other, then why'd the sleep together? isn't that going to complicate things with olivia?"

"who's olivia?" y/n heard the name and felt her smile disappear. she knew the answer but she didn't really want to hear it.

"she's a girl quinn has been talking to for awhile but i don't know if they made the jump to make things official or not."

"i think they did. mom mentioned something about quinn inviting olivia to the lake house this summer." luke looked at y/n and noticed she was messing with her necklace. "you okay?"

"yeah. but if she's coming to the lake house, does that mean there won't be room for me?"

"of course not. there's always going to be room for you." jack smiled and threw his arm around y/n. "don't you ever doubt your place in this family."

"i won't." she smiled and leaned into jack's side.

"we leave on friday. you ready for that?"

"of course. always am." y/n smiled. "you mind if i stay here?"

"of course not. you're always welcome here." luke smiled and headed to his room.

"i'm gonna head to bed too. you good on the couch or do you want the bed?"

"couch should be fine. thanks jack." y/n smiled and curled up with the blanket.

the 3 of them fell asleep quickly.

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on friday afternoon, jack was unloading the car with help from luke while y/n was unlocking the house.

"we're the first ones here." she looked around the empty house. luke set bags down beside her and smiled.

"that's a good thing. you get to pick your room."

"oh yay." y/n took off up the stairs and just as she was about to turn the doorknob to the room she normally stayed in, she remembered what happened the night of the wedding. she turned around and kept walking to the room next to it.

"don't want your normal room?" jack asked from behind her/

"no. think it's time for a change. you don't mind if i share with you, do you?"

"no. not at all. luke will just have to room with trevor this year." he walked into the room and set their bags inside. jack pulled his phone out of his pocket and looked at the screen. "oh. quinn's here with the food. should we go down and help?"

"why not?" y/n slid her own phone back in her pocket and followed jack downstairs. when she saw quinn, her heart felt like it skipped a beat when it shouldn't have.

"oh my god. food!" luke came in from the backyard and grabbed the bags from quinn. he rushed them to the kitchen, leaving jack, y/n and quinn in the front hall.

"i'm gonna go help luke. well, more like stop him before he eats everything right away." jack left the awkward situation.

y/n was about to follow him but quinn's voice stopped her. "hey. it's good to see you."

she turned around to face him. "it's good to see you too, quinn."

"we should talk about what happened."

"no. we should go help your brothers put the food away." y/n wasted no time heading into the kitchen to join her best friend. "thanks for that, jack."

"oh, you're welcome." jack chuckled and put the last bag of chips in the pantry, just as quinn walks into the kitchen. "hey bro. where's olivia?"

"she's coming up later tonight. she had some, uh, things she had to take care of before taking 2 weeks off."

"okay cool." luke is already halfway through a bowl of cereal before he says a word. "so, is she your girlfriend?"

"yeah. she is." quinn couldn't bring himself to look y/n in the eye. he couldn't make eye contact with his brothers either. he was lying to them but he needed to come up with a good excuse for when she doesn't show up later.

he thought he and olivia would be good together but after he went to the wedding and slept with y/n, he knew he couldn't lead her on. so as soon as he got home, he broke things off with her. all he could think about was y/n and it was killing him because he had convinced himself for years that he wasn't attracted to y/n at all.

but seeing her in that dress at the wedding made him realize he had only been lying to himself the entire time.

"we're gonna go out on the boat. you coming, quinn?" jack waved his hand in front of his brother.

"yeah sure. y/n and luke already gone?"

"meeting us out there. it's our job to bring the cooler and snacks, per luke's request."

"got it." quinn began to load the cooler with drinks while jack grabbed the snacks. "alright. i'm gonna go get ready. meet you down in 5 minutes?"

"yeah. sure." jack watched as his brother went back up the stairs. y/n walked in a minute later.

"jack, i gotta talk to you about something. something i never thought i would have to bring up with you ever."

"alright. what is it?"

"i think i'm attracted to quinn now."

"you've got to be kidding me." jack chuckled.

"i know. it's stupid and i didn't think i was but then i saw him when he got here and i don't know. it was like my heart started beating differently. i don't know what to do. especially since he's got a girlfriend, who he technically cheated on."

"they weren't together when you guys had sex. they were only talking. so he's in the clear for it. you don't have to feel guilty about it."

"i don't feel guilty. i just don't like that i'm attracted to him now out of all of the times i could've found him attractive." she sighed and noticed jack laughing. "this isn't funny, asshole."

"i'm sorry but it kind of is. i can't believe you like my brother." he shook his head and handed her the bag of snacks just as quinn was coming into the kitchen. "ready?"

"yeah." quinn watched y/n leave the room and grabbed the cooler with jack. when he saw that y/n was a decent distance away from them, he looked at jack. "i have a problem."

"we all do. what is it?"

"i think i like y/n now."

after a few hours on the boat, jack got a text from trevor saying he and cole had arrived so quinn drove the boat back to the dock. jack got off first and helped y/n climb off. she jumped on his back and he walked up to the grass. luke tied the boat to the dock just as trevor and cole made their way down.

"it's about time you guys got here. we've been waiting for 15 minutes." trevor chuckled while looking at everybody. he smiled when he saw y/n and jack's back. "and this happened? do you not tell me anything anymore, jack?"

"oh no. we're not-" y/n started but jack cut her off.

"sorry man. i've been meaning to tell you. just hadn't gotten around to doing so."

"that's okay. just glad to see you so happy." trevor smiled. "anyway, we ordered pizza before we got here so it should be here any minute."

"trevor, you are the best. i'm starving." luke smiled.

"luke, you had a bowl of cereal before we got on the boat and then you had a ton of snacks on the boat. how could you possibly still be hungry?" y/n smiled as jack set her on the ground.

"i'm a growing boy, y/n. i need the nutrients."

"okay. whatever you say, luke." she followed the 3 boys into the house. jack and quinn finished unloading everything from the boat.

"i didn't know you and y/n were a thing now." quinn grabbed the cooler and started walking back to the house.

"yeah. it's kinda new." jack tried his best to keep his brother from breaking through the lie. "you okay with it?"

"well as long as you make her happy, that's all that matters."

"i'll try my best." jack walked into the house and went to y/n. he pulled her out of the room, making sure to excuse them from the conversation. "sorry about that earlier. just figured that it would be easier for you to handle olivia if you were also in a 'relationship'. plus it'll be a lot easier to explain why we're sharing a room now."

"i get it. it makes sense & quite honestly, i'm surprised you thought of that so quickly."

"i do have my moments." jack smiled. "apparently, olivia is supposed to be here shortly. and if at any point in the night you want an escape, just give me a look and we'll disappear."

"i appreciate you so much, jack." y/n smiled and followed him back to the living room. she sat next to jack on the chair while the boys took the couch and the other chair.

through the next few hours, tons of topics were tossed into conversations around them but jack & y/n stayed in their own little world. quinn's gaze never left the pair but he was indeed listening to the conversations going on with the other boys.

"so, when should we be expecting olivia, quinn?" luke brought up quinn's girlfriend, causing everyone to turn towards him, even jack and y/n.

"unfortunately, she wont be making it here until tomorrow. picked up a last minute shift at work to make some extra money."

"okay. cool." trevor nodded in his direction and turned towards luke. "so when are you going to get a girlfriend?"

"what do you mean by that, trevor?"

"your brothers both have girlfriends. don't you think it's about time you had one as well?"

"i want to focus more on my career for a bit before i fall in love."

"okay. i guess that's smart." he nodded and resumed his conversation with quinn and cole. luke found a way to insert himself into the conversation, leaving y/n and jack in their own little world again. she wasn't worried about olivia, but that feeling lasted for 5 minutes.

"olivia says she's excited to see everyone tomorrow. she should be here around noon."

"oh cool." y/n looked at jack and started playing with her bracelet. he grabbed her hand and stood up.

"we're gonna head to bed now. see you boys in the morning." jack walked behind y/n as she climbed the stairs.

"thank you for that. the look on quinn's face when he brought up olivia was killing me. and the way he talked about her was torture." y/n threw herself onto the bed dramatically. "he clearly loves her and i can't compete with that."

"i don't know if he loves her. but if she's gonna be here then you can just stay with me the entire time, like we planned."

"sounds good." she yawned. "i'm actually going to sleep now. thank you for tonight."

"no problem. get some rest." jack kissed her head gently and sat at his desk. mere moments later, he heard her softly snoring. he wasn't tired so he went out of the room and headed down to the kitchen. on the way down, he bumped into quinn.

"hey, bro. that was an abrupt exit you guys made earlier. is everything okay with y/n today? she's acting weirder than normal."

"yeah she's fine. she was just tired." jack grabbed a bottle of water and looked at his brother. "can i ask you something?"

"sure."

"if you like y/n, why are you inviting olivia here?"

"olivia's not coming. i ended things with her." quinn admitted.

"what? why, and when, did you do that?"

"because of y/n. it happened when i got back from the wedding. i couldn't lead her on. it wouldn't be fair." he sighed. "and now i'm stuck because y/n's your girlfriend now. i should've known you guys were gonna get together eventually. happens a lot with best friends."

"i'm sorry, bro. i'm sure there will be someone for you soon. and it may not be y/n but she'll love you as long as you love her." jack looked at his brother. "i'm sure this thing with y/n is only temporary and you'll move on in no time."

"i'm not sure about that, jack. every time i see her, it's like i forget how to breath and my heart starts beating faster. i don't know what to do. and i'm sorry. i know she's your girlfriend and that i need to get over her, but it's starting to feel impossible."

"sorry." jack shook his head. "well, i'm heading back to bed. talk to you in the morning." jack grabbed an extra bottle for y/n and headed back upstairs. what quinn was describing wasn't just a crush. it was love. he was in love with y/n & it made jack feel bad. he didn't want to stand in the way of love.

❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤

"are you serious, jack? you're really ending things now?" y/n and jack were in the living room having a fake breakup, hoping to catch everyone's attention.

"look, i'm sorry. but even you can't deny that we were better off as friends."

"i want to hate you for breaking my heart, but you're right. i will always love you but being in love with you just doesn't seem right."

"wait, what's going on? don't break up. you guys are soulmates." luke mumbled through a mouthful of food.

"sorry, luke. we have to." jack looked at y/n and smiled. "she's my soulmate, but platonically." he walked out of the room.

"we had a good run." y/n smiled and sat next to luke. "do you ever stop eating?"

"when i'm sleeping." he smiled widely and wiped his mouth. "so you and jack aren't dating anymore?"

"nope. but that's okay. i love him, but i don't think i was ever in love with him."

"is it because you and quinn are in love with each other?"

"what makes you think i'm in love with quinn?"

"well for one, i'm very attentive." luke chuckled. "plus i overheard you and jack talking about it. and i heard him and quinn talking last night. quinn ended things with olivia after he got back from the wedding because he realized that he would only be leading her on, which wouldn't be right. he told jack that whenever he sees you, it's like he forgets how to breath and his heart beats faster. sounds like love."

"that's a lot of information to consume so quickly." y/n looked at luke.

"hey guys. what's up?" quinn smiled as he entered the room.

"and that's my cue to leave. see you later." luke quickly walked out of the room, leaving y/n alone with quinn.

"well that was weird." he chuckled. "so, here we are again."

"looks like it." y/n couldn't even look at quinn.

"what are your plans for the day?"

"quinn, do you love me?" she quickly changed the subject.

"what? why do you ask?"

"luke told me a few interesting things a couple of minutes ago. said he overheard you and jack talking last night."

"well i don't know what he thinks he heard, but that wasn't it."

"quinn, just answer the question. do you love me?"

"even if i did, it would be wrong. you're dating jack."

"it was a lie." y/n looked at him. when he raised an eyebrow, she continued. "it was jack's idea to pretend to be dating. it was supposed to be an easy way to explain why we were sharing a room this year."

"i'm confused."

"it was also supposed to serve as a way to distract me from your relationship with olivia. he didn't want to see me upset about it."

"why would you be upset about me and olivia?"

"doesn't matter. heard she wasn't even coming up here anymore. what happened there?" y/n looked at quinn, already knowing the answer.

"we broke up." he sighed. "right after i got back from the wedding. but is it technically a break up if we weren't even dating?"

"why did you guys break up?"

"something tells me luke already told you."

"he did tell me something. but i want to hear your reasoning."

"well, at the wedding, i realized i had been lying to myself. i kept telling myself that i wasn't attracted to you in any way. but i realized that i actually was attracted to you. whenever i walk into a room and see you, it's like i forget how to breath and my heart beats faster."

"you seem to be having a good time breathing right now." y/n looked at him and smiled.

"i'm freaking out on the inside though. just don't want to show my emotions to everyone." he avoided her eye contact but felt her eyes burning a hole into the side of his head.

"quinn, why didn't you just tell me?"

"i was planning to. but then you and jack announced your relationship & it felt wrong." he finally looked at her. "but don't worry. i know it's fake but i can see how happy he makes you so you should be with him for real. i'm going to forget about this and move on."

"quinn, you can't just-"

"don't try to talk me out of it. my mind is already made up." quinn began to walk out of the room but y/n grabbed his arm.

"i love you. i didn't think i did but the wedding changed everything. and not just because we had sex. i thought that maybe it was all because of the romance of the night but i thought more about it. and when i saw you earlier, i couldn't stop my heart from going crazy. then you mentioned olivia and i realized that my heart felt like it was breaking. you smiled when you said her name and it was the kind of look that i hoped you'd give me one day." y/n let his arm go and sighed. "do you still want to forget about this thing between us?"

"i really, really don't." quinn held her face gently. "i love you too. so much. i know this is new for both of us but we can take it slow. we have all summer to make up for lost time. if you want to, that is."

"i definitely want that." y/n smiled and closed the gap between them. it wasn't their first kiss and it definitely wouldn't be their last.

jack had been watching from the hallway while their conversation went down. he was happy that two of his favorite people overcame their stubbornness to finally be together.

everything seemed to be fitting exactly where it needed to be.

#nhl #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #jack hughes #luke hughes #qh43

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vroomvroomcircuit · 11 months ago

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You pulling in made me wish your Dad pulled out

(A/N): Thank you to @foreveralbon for workshopping this fic with me with this prompt. I don't know what to do if you weren't my muse.

Summary: Charles pissed off his neighbor with his parking. Her answers are notes taped to his car window. How can evolve more out of that?

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x female!reader

Wordcount: 1.6k

🏎Masterlist🏎 ________________________

(Y/N) knows that she isn’t the most professional car parker. She should never start a career as a valet for sure. After all, she needed a second attempt on her own practical test to attain her drivers license.

But there is this one neighbor of hers. She doesn’t know what he looks like, what his name is or where he even lives. But (Y/N) knows one thing for sure: He is a shit parker.

Like, he is the worst person at parking that has ever walked the world. If he could, he probably would park his oh so expensive car onto other cars. But she tries to not let that get too close to her. After all, we just talk about parking spaces and it’s not worth getting her blood pressure up over it.

But (Y/N) found her tipping point.

Her whole morning has been a shit show. Her alarm went off, but she accidentally turned it off instead of giving herself another five minutes of sleep. Five minutes turned into 45. That meant the young woman had to rush through her usual morning routine and she is 90 % sure that she put at least one clothing item on the wrong way.

But it’s ok, she is still on time. She just needs to get out of the car par-

This is where (Y/N) last thread of patience with that neighbor snaps in two like a potato chip, crisp and unclean. This person parked the front half of his car in a way that completely blocks (Y/N)’s rear end from exiting the car in a way that does not hinder the sidewalk.

It takes a solid seven minutes to get out of her spot, trying not to scratch hers or another car. Arriving a few minutes late at work because of that and receiving a reprimand from her boss is really the young woman’s last straw. On her lunch break she does some snooping on the internet and comes across a really fine find. It’s worth the price and shipping cost to her.

Actually, she can’t wait for the week it is supposed to take to arrive at her doorstep.

But the time between that particular day and the day of arrival do fly by when you use it getting madder and madder at the dickhead that is unable to park like a normal person.

The next occurrence doesn’t take long after (Y/N)’s package finally arrives. She wanted to park her vehicle in her usual spot when Mr. Ferrari already took his and her own too. How can one person be such an asshole?

(Y/N) takes one of the business card sized cuts out of her glove box and puts it in the slit of the black car’s window. Satisfied with her work she steps back into her vehicle and looks for a different spot, ending up walking several minutes back to her apartment building, having to look somewhere farther away.

Charles can see from a distance that there is a card at his car’s windowshield. Which makes him suspicious. Surely no one thinks that he wants to sell his car for cheap, so it can’t be one of those car handler’s business cards. Maybe it’s a new ruse of thieves, trying to get him to stand long enough at his car to read it and be able to steal his car. Or they are kidnappers. Anyways, he makes quick work of putting the card into his pocket and drives off at a neck breaking speed.

When he arrives at his destination, the Monegasque pulls the piece of paper out and reads it. “The way you pulled in makes me wish your dad pulled out”, he reads aloud, laughing a little to himself.

He has to admit that he might not be the best at parking. Who is he even kidding, he would win the world championship at being the worst car parker possible. But the thought of someone getting that angered over his non-existent skills.

It’s something that makes him happy throughout his entire day. Which is his main reason to try and look how much he can piss that particular neighbor off even more.

So Charles starts parking even worse. If he also starts on the habit of watching out of his window more often now, he would claim it is just a coincidence. But something in him wants to meet that neighbor.

That person that gets more and more creative with their insults. One time they called him an obstacle to evolution. The other day the business card said something along the lines of him belonging to the asshole club now.

Another, a handwritten, note asked him not to reproduce. The neighbor even left a condom for him. This made Charles laugh so loudly, that (Y/N) looked out her opened window.

She just finished one of the worst shifts she ever had since starting that job and all she wants is just a quiet evening to come down from the stress. Just the noise of the laugh is enough to set her off again.

Seeing her handsome neighbor from under her apartment pocketing the note and condom she left just minutes earlier isn’t what she expected. Watching him opening the car, sitting down and driving off is even less on her list.

It kind of destroys her world view, realizing that hot neighbor and asshole parker are the same person. In the last couple of weeks (Y/N) started to get some fun out of the mean comments she left at the black Ferrari’s window. This also could be her chance to finally make a move on him.

The young woman waits for the brunette to return with his car and stays seated on her couch for another couple minutes, for extra measure of course. After that, she leaves the apartment building with her prepared note and tapes it to the car’s rear window.

Charles on the other side stays glued to his window as soon as he enters his apartment. He finally wants to catch the person that gets angrier and angrier each time he parks in an outrageous way in the act.

Seeing the beautiful neighbor, who lives above him, sticking another note to his car makes his heart flutter in an unexpected way. For some time now he wanted to get to know her and if everything went according to his original plan, ask her out on a date. But maybe he can now use this to his advantage.

As soon as the beautiful neighbor is back in the building Charles waits an extra couple minutes before he once again makes his way to his car.

Running over his vehicle with a pep in his step, Charles is kind of excited about what insults or threats await him now. He has to admit, he actually parked pretty decently. Or as decent as he is able to. So the note has to be at least a little bit nicer than the previous ones.

“Hey neighbor. I thought instead of shitting on you and your parking skills even more, I want you to help and get better. I may not be a driving teacher, but helping you wouldn’t make your skills worse. Just text me with the times you are available at ;)” signed with (Y/N)’s name and number.

It’s kind of funny to explain to the press later how Charles met (Y/N) and became her boyfriend.

"Yeah, well I know that my driving has become sort of a, a meme,” he answers when asked a week after his announcement on instagram, “And my neighbor wasn’t too fond of it either. So she started to leave me these really funny, but also really aggressive notes at my car. One said something like I won the inconsiderate Parker Price. Which made me quite proud.” This entices a laugh out of the journalist. “Yeah, (Y/N) has a really good way with words, I fear. But in the end she offered me some parking lessons.” Charles smiles and thinks back to them.

He had texted (Y/N) immediately and they set up a date for the lesson two days away. But they still continued to text non stop and by the time they met up, it felt like they had been friends for years.

Which didn’t stop (Y/N) raging at Charles after his fifth failed attempt of parking his car according to her instructions. “I don’t believe you anymore. With the way you park you are not from Monaco but the deepest and wildest parts of Italy! Your Ferrari seems really fitting now!” This drew a laugh out of him until she graced him with the meanest look he didn’t expect her to be able to muster up.

“How about dinner as a thank you and apology?” He asked sheepishly, trying both to diffuse the situation and make his move. Why not shoot his shot right now?

Luckily the young woman agreed.

“In the end my parking skills weren’t enough to win her over, but my charm was what scored me a second date.”

And a third. A relationship. After some more funny parking jokes and him kneeling down on one knee with a ring and the promise to take lessons to keep their future family safe he even scored himself his unexpected forever.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fanfic #x reader #reader insert #charles leclerc x female!reader #x female!reader

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inthedayswhenlandswerefew · 4 months ago

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In The Gloomy Depths [Chapter 5: Ruby]

Series summary: Five years ago, jewel mining tycoon Daemon Targaryen made a promise in order to win your hand in marriage. Now he has broken it and forced you into a voyage across the Atlantic, betraying you in increasingly horrifying ways and using your son as leverage to ensure your cooperation. You have no friends and no allies, except a destitute viola player you can’t seem to get away from…

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), parenthood, dolphins, death and peril, violence (including domestic violence), drinking, smoking, freezing temperatures, murder, if you don’t like Titanic you won’t like this fic!!! 😉

Word count: 5.5k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Tagging: @nightvyre @mrs-starkgaryen @gemini-mama @ecstaticactus @chattylurker, more in comments 🥰

💎 Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 💎

Scarlet dusk spills over the pine planks of the deck like rising water. Sweet little Madeleine Astor invites you to attend dinner with her party—perhaps there is gossip that you and Daemon have had some sort of a row—but you have other plans. As the rest of the first-class passengers descend the Grand Staircase to the dining room on D-Deck, you make your way eastward towards the stern. You pass shipbuilder Thomas Andrews, who is ambling along with a group of chuckling, pipe-puffing gentlemen including J. Bruce Ismay and Benjamin Guggenheim. Mr. Andrews is mentioning the iceberg warnings that the captain has received from nearby vessels today; the other men are agreeing that Captain Smith is right to not be concerned. On a night as calm and cloudless as this one, surely an iceberg would be spotted by the lookouts with more than enough time to steer the ship to safety.

Aegon is waiting by the steel railing of the stern, stolen black coat, face glowing in fading daylight the color of sunstone, a crystal mined in Oregon. His scuffed brown leather portfolio and a folded easel are tucked under one arm; in his fist is clutched the handle of a small wooden box, which must contain his painting supplies.

“So,” he says, smiling when he sees you’ve accepted his offer, this final kindness before you are torn away from each other when Titanic docks in New York Harbor. “Where should we set up our studio? It can’t be in my cabin. One of my roommates is currently fornicating with a Russian girl. She seems nice. I hope she isn’t burdened with his bastard child.”

“You don’t think we should join them?”

He laughs. “Maybe I’m not ready to share you.”

“You’re not living up to your reputation, prodigal son. I had heard you were an irredeemable miscreant.” Then you turn to leave, and Aegon follows you.

You stop first at the Café Parisien on B-Deck, which is mostly deserted; it’s very cold outside, approaching freezing temperatures as the sun sinks below the bloodied horizon, and the heaters don’t work especially well in the restaurant. You purchase several different sandwiches and a chocolate croissant. No cash exchanges hands, which is good because you don’t ever have any; the stewards there recognize you and will add the charge to your illustrious husband’s bill, to be paid before passengers disembark on either April 16th or 17th, depending on how quickly Titanic arrives at her destination.

Daemon and Rhaenyra will be in the First-Class Dining Saloon for the next several hours, and thereafter will almost certainly steal away into her rooms to commit their incestuous adultery. Rush is eternally prowling nearby in case Daemon finds himself in need of anything: a drink, a gun, a troublesome wife shoved over a railing. Per her nightly tradition, Dagmar has taken Draco to the Verandah Café, which in addition to being a more casual eatery has become a sort of playroom for first-class children. And so in your staterooms, only Fern is present, finishing up some dusting before she journeys down to C-Deck to enjoy dinner in the Maids and Valets Saloon. From above the fireplace, the taxidermied tiger head watches you with eerily still gemstone eyes, a dispassionate witness to your treason.

“Hello, ma’am,” Fern says when you enter. “Can I make you a cup of tea before I go?” Then she sees Aegon walk in behind you with all his equipment, and she blinks, bewildered. “Good evening, sir. Did we meet on the Boat Deck this morning…?”

“We did,” Aegon replies a bit sheepishly. Fern looks at you, seeking an explanation.

“I need a favor,” you tell her.

“Of course, ma’am. Anything.” But Fern’s large dark eyes shift skittishly between you and Aegon.

You give her the paper bag heavy with treats from Café Parisien. “I’ve brought you dinner. I wasn’t sure what kind of sandwich you’d prefer, so there’s ham and Gruyère, tomato and chèvre, and pâté and cornichon. Eat whichever you like, or all three, it doesn’t matter. Oh, and there’s a chocolate croissant as well, nice and flakey and shining with butter. It’s absolutely massive.”

“That’s very kind, ma’am,” Fern says. She’s touched, but she’s still puzzled.

“Fern, I’m asking you to stay here in the sitting room. It doesn’t matter what you do, but don’t fall asleep, and for God’s sake don’t leave to go outside, not even for a moment.”

“Alright,” she agrees cautiously.

“I don’t think they’ll be back for a few hours, but if somebody does walk through that door—Daemon, Dagmar, anyone—all I need you to do is offer to make them tea, as you would on any other night. And offer loudly.” This will alert you to the intruder and give you more than enough time to get Aegon out onto the private deck, from which he can access the hallways of B-Deck and the Grand Staircase.

Fern understands. She nods, studying Aegon thoughtfully. “Yes ma’am.”

“And I didn’t have any visitors.” Your voice is grave; it is not only your reputation at risk. It’s your life.

Fern feigns shock. “Of course not. I haven’t seen a soul.”

You touch a palm to her shoulder, fleeting and gentle. “Thank you, Fern.”

“It’s no trouble at all, ma’am,” she says, and then goes to the small circular table and begins to unwrap one of the sandwiches from Café Parisien.

As soon as you and Aegon are inside your bedroom, you push Daemon’s writing desk in front of the door, precious extra seconds bought in the unlikely event that your husband returns and Fern can’t slow him down. Aegon immediately begins setting up: placing his easel, clipping a piece of fresh linen-like parchment from his portfolio to it, and removing a palette, brushes, and tiny tin tubes of oil paint from his wooden box. He turns off all of the lamps except one, then glances at the unlit white candles on the dresser and the nightstand. Before he can say anything, you take his aluminum lighter from your handbag and light the wicks.

“Can I do anything else to help?” you ask.

“Yeah.” Aegon nods to your spacious walk-in closet, where the door is hanging ajar. It’s nearly as large as his entire third-class cabin. He shrugs off his black wool coat; beneath it he is wearing only a white button-up shirt and dark green corduroy trousers. “Get dressed. Put on something you feel like you look especially good in.”

You gaze blankly at the closet, then turn back to him. “I don’t think I look good in anything.”

“Well now I’m going to make you watch.” He smirks at you, mischievous, teasing, then drops to his knees to squirt beads of paint onto his stained palette: golden like the lamplight, a rich dark brown like the walnut wood of the bedposts.

“How would you possibly accomplish that?”

“You have a mirror.” He points to it with a paintbrush, the oval-shaped pool of silver standing upright by the bed.

You gape at it, mortified. “No, I couldn’t possibly stare at myself the whole time.”

“Sure you could.” Aegon goes to the mirror and adjusts it until it is filled with your reflection. “Not too bad, right?”

“I suppose,” you murmur, but you have already fled to the closet. As Aegon swirls colors together on his palette, searching for the perfect shades, you sift through your collection of jewel-toned fabrics: lace, cotton, velvet, wool. You think again of the dusk light that turned the decks and waves to rubies, and your eyes catch on a red silk robe: purchased only a month ago, never worn yet, no memories of Daemon or anybody else, a new age like sunset or dawn. You take off your green gown and remove the emeralds from your ears, then don the crimson-colored robe and return to the bedroom to meet Aegon, silk flowing behind you like a riptide, the rustling of your legs beneath the fabric.

Aegon is scrabbling around by the foot of the bed, smoothing out any bumps in the Turkish rug, straightening the white ruffled bed skirt that hangs down to the floor. He peers up at you and freezes, his fretful fingers going still.

You ask tentavively: “Is this okay?”

He chuckles. “Okay is one word for it. Come over here.”

You go to Aegon and he takes your hands, both of them, and draws you down onto the floor where he is. You sit with your legs bent and tucked to the right, as if you’re a mermaid, your tail the color of blood instead of cool rippling depths. Aegon arranges the hem of your robe—he wants your bare feet showing, the silk rumpled in some spots and smooth in others—then retreats and stands back to study you, chewing the corner of his full bottom lip, his hands on his waist.

“Can I take your hair down?”

“Sure,” you say, but when he touches you—even a graze, even a whisper—you have to stop yourself from startling a bit, from reaching out to grab his wrist and keep him close.

“I can paint from memory,” Aegon tells you as he works, perhaps filling the quiet to soothe your nerves. “But it always turns out better if I have the person in front of me.”

“I’ll try to stay still.”

“You can move around if you have to,” he assures you. “I’d rather have you comfortable. I know you’re not a statue.”

“Right.” You smile. “I’m a rock.”

Aegon laughs and places your left hand on the bedpost as if you are clinging to it. “The best rock. Now let’s see you glimmer.” He goes to the mirror and repositions it one final time, angling it downwards slightly so you are in the center of the glass oval. From behind you on the dresser, flickering dots of candlelight glow like stars. You instinctively avert your eyes from your reflection, but Aegon is insistent. Gingerly, he turns your head back towards the mirror before striding over to his easel.

You do not want to watch yourself, so you watch Aegon instead, his doppelganger reversed in the glass. He’s mixing paint on his palette, repeatedly glancing at your robe to make sure he’s made the correct shade of red. He’s absentmindedly tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. And you cannot stop staring at his hands: the way he holds a paintbrush, the bumps of his knuckles. He is not a man who has ever pillaged or bruised but only created pinpoints of light that gleam through the darkness, music and art and laughter, the gems of human existence. He is far from home, just like you are. His bones are the bars of a prison; you have married into the same one, created new life with it, melded your bloodlines together like forged metal.

Now Aegon is back, his reflection kneeling behind yours, and he begins to reach for your waist before he stops himself. “Is it alright if I…?”

“Of course. However you want me.”

The Aegon that lives in the silver sheen of the mirror settles his hands lightly just below your ribcage. He turns you just barely towards the mirror, only an inch away from where you were before, but he is precise, he is careful. This is the last image he’ll ever capture of you.

The warmth of him against you, his weight, his wonder as he gazes at your reflection with eyes like deep water; your breath catches, and at first he fears he has crossed a line and removes his hands. But your fingers are—slowly, like a suggestion that someone could so easily pretend not to have noticed—pulling up the hem of your silk robe, to just above your ankles, to your calves, to your bent knees. Aegon’s right hand covers yours, and then—as your eyes lock in the mirror—skates up the inside of your thighs as you part them, displacing the vivid red of your robe, revealing yourself in the glass, and so you can see it as he touches you, not like he owns or commands or uses you but like he is here to chisel you free from the perpetual darkness of the mine you’ve been trapped in for millennia.

You gasp in desperate, disbelieving relief, shaking all over, and you move to kiss him; but Aegon catches your face in his other hand and turns you back to the mirror. “No,” he whispers. “Watch.” And then he presses his lips to the apple of your cheek and lingers there for a moment, tasting you, breathing you in like you’re water filling the lungs of a drowning man.

“Aegon…”

“I want you to see how beautiful you are. I want you to see what I’ve been dying to do to you.”

His right hand is still between your legs, his fingers circling, a whirlpool that drags you down like an anchor until you hit the seafloor, an ocean not of pressure and cold but bright, yearning warmth, golden lamplight and flickering candles. You reach back to touch Aegon’s face—the stubble of his short beard, the sand-colored strands of his hair—but still he keeps your gaze fixed on your reflection. Now you are unashamed in a way you haven’t been since before your wedding night five years ago, just about the same time Aegon was leaving home. The proof is indelible, inking itself into your memory like a painter’s signature: you are desired, you are loved.

“Thank you,” you moan, so low it’s almost inaudible. You’re close. You’re very, very close. “Oh my God, Aegon, thank you…”

“Shh.” He kisses the side of your face, his eyes on the mirror, transfixed. “Show me.”

It’s a beam of sunlight refracted and scattered by a ruby; it’s a scalding torrent of blood that crashes through a web of arteries all the way to the heart. And when—still shuddering, still fighting for air—you pull away from Aegon’s grasp, he lets you go without any resistance.

You roll onto the floor and drag him on top of you by his shirt, struggling with trembling fingers to untangle the tie of your robe until Aegon realizes what you’re trying to do and helps you. He opens the blood-red silk and tastes the salt blooming on your belly, your breasts, your throat where your pulse is thudding drunk and maroon in your carotid. It’s better than cider or champagne or beer or nicotine; he is not a poison but a cure. He is unbuttoning his shirt and his trousers, hurried famished need. He is inside of you, and he is kissing you deeply, your palms on his flushed face, your hips moving with his. You steal a glimpse of the silver-moonlight mirror, and there you both are: lost and far from home, shipwrecked on the same island, castaways and wave crests and mirages. In the end, you know you have not disappointed him. His lungs are breathless and his eyes wet, his muscles just as spent and useless as yours. Neither of you are lost anymore. You have found each other here in the gloomy depths.

Almost immediately, Aegon forces himself off of you and crawls towards his easel, at last staggering to his feet. He grabs his palette and a brush and begins working with frenetic strokes, his damp hair falling in his face, his brow knit with concentration. You don’t have to ask what he’s doing. He’s trying to paint you before the memory begins to fade. He works in thin layers, just enough to cover the white of the parchment. His visions are soft and fragile like dreams, things that can be blown away and forgotten. From where you’re still lying on the floor, you gaze up at Aegon as he paints.

Is it possible that I’m in love with him? Is it possible that after this voyage I’ll never see him again?

You have no sense of how much time has passed when he finally looks over at you and says: “I think it’s done.”

You stand and wander across the bedroom, your red robe still open and hanging loosely from you like flayed skin. On the paper you find two faces instead of one, you in a golden haze of ecstasy no one else can see the cause of, Aegon whispering as your fingertips reach back for him.

He has written in black in the bottom right corner of the painting: Petra and Picasso.

~~~~~~~~~~

Aegon doesn’t want to move it yet. The oil paint needs hours to dry, and he’s worried that if he takes it outside while it’s still wet, the wind screaming down from the Arctic might be cold enough to make the paint freeze and chip away, and the momentary lust-red magic he’s captured will be gone. So with the new painting still clipped to it, you hide Aegon’s folded easel, the leather portfolio, and the wooden box of supplies under your bed, concealed by the white ruffled bed skirt. You both take turns cleaning up in the bathroom—someone always listening for the noise of an unwelcome interloper—and Aegon shimmies back into his clothes while you change into a blue dress, velvet for warmth, pale like ice.

“Where can we go?” you ask Aegon as you put on a coat, heavy white wool. I don’t want to say goodbye to you yet.

He must feel the same way. He pushes Daemon’s writing desk back to its original place, unblocking the door. Then Aegon offers his hand and you take it.

You walk together into the sitting room. Fern looks up from where she’s perched on the sofa and sewing closed a rip in the sleeve of one of Dagmar’s charcoal-colored dresses, her eye wide.

“Thank you, Fern,” you say, calm and drowsy. “That will be all for tonight.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“How can I repay you?” You don’t have your own money, your own land; even the jewels in your collection belong to Daemon. You’d give them all up if they could buy your freedom. You’d let them sink into the dark cold North Atlantic Ocean, emeralds and rubies and sapphires. Randomly, you think of Daemon’s gemstone-studded dagger, the hilt glinting with gold.

Fern replies: “Never send me away to live with people who don’t bring me chocolate croissants.”

You dash to the sofa and hug her; Fern is stunned but accepts your embrace, warily patting your back as if the bones beneath might be porcelain or glass. Then you clasp Aegon’s hand again and vanish with him into the hallway.

Most of the men are still at dinner or have moved to the First-Class Smoking Room, the women are still gossiping and sipping their champagne, and so you and Aegon slip through the heated corridors like sharks in warm currents. He leads you towards the stern, to the section of the ship reserved for his chosen people, then down to F-Deck and the Third-Class Dining Saloon. They are just beginning to move the tables out of the way for dancing. You find a quiet corner of the room and take off your coats, then Aegon disappears for a moment and returns with a tray: two plates full of corned beef, cabbage, carrots, and potatoes, two bowls of plum pudding, two cups of tea, a dark bitter pint of Guinness for you. You can feel your face light up when you see Irish food.

“You’re lucky you weren’t down here for breakfast,” Aegon tells you. “We had fried tripe and onions.”

“Oh, awful,” you say, laughing. You take a bite of corned beef and close your eyes, thinking of Saint Patrick’s Day with your family each year, always a cold wet day in March, green hills and grey mist. When you open your eyes, Aegon is smiling.

“A little taste of Ireland.” Now he is wistful. Across the room, the musicians Aegon sometimes plays with have climbed on top of a table and are performing My Wild Irish Rose as couples whirl around the floor. “I’ll miss it. I love the music and the people. Perhaps one in particular.”

“What are you going to do when you get home?”

“I’m going to tell Aemond he has to teach me how to be a duke,” Aegon says casually as he eats. “I can’t really give it up, unfortunately. The title belongs to the Crown, not my family. It can be taken away any time the king decides he wants to. And he’s a strict one, George V. He’s humorless, he’s harsh. If I refuse my inheritance, I can’t just pass it along to Aemond, not unless the king agrees. But the way I am…my failings, my lack of restraint…it makes my bloodline look like bad stock, doesn’t it? Especially with all that eugenics bullshit floating around. I don’t want my mother and siblings to lose everything because of me. My mother has spent her entire life miserable, I figure she should have something to show for it.”

The Hightower branch of the family are phantoms to you. You know them only from newspaper articles and erratic gossip and sneering remarks muttered by your husband. You take a swig of your Guinness, and for the first time in as long as you can remember you don’t feel like you want to have another. You don’t want to take the jagged edges off this moment, hidden below deck with Aegon for what is almost certainly the last time. You don’t want to forget anything about him. “What’s Aemond like?”

“Superior to me in every way,” Aegon says. “Disciplined. Clever. Very tall.”

“I myself favor short, delinquent artists. Those tall clever dragons are nothing but trouble.”

He snickers, shaking his head. “I’m not a real artist.”

“Sure you are. You’re Picasso.”

He’s watching you with murky blue eyes, dazed and marveling. “What are you going to do when you’re back in Ireland?”

It’s a fantasy, a folktale. I’ll never see Ireland again. “I’m going to help take care of my father. He’s…he’s not well, and he hasn’t been for a long time. His memory is failing. I want to make his last years as painless as possible. I want to spent time with my mother again, I want to go on walks and sit in the garden and read books and paint our ugly little pictures. We used to play this game where we’d each paint an animal and then have the other guess what it is. It once took her twelve tries before she realized my grey blob was supposed to be a basking shark. I saw one washed up on the shore when I was little.”

Aegon is smiling. “I could teach you how to paint.”

“Yes,” you say softly, knowing it will never happen.

“You could teach me what it’s like to have nice parents.”

“They’d adore that. They always wanted more children.” You are distracted, gazing into your Guinness, flecks of foam like constellations in a night sky. “I want to make sure Draco grows up to be a good man. I want him to be kind and gentle.” You look to Aegon, the thought suddenly leaping into your mind like a cat onto a windowsill. “Like you.”

Aegon’s eyebrows shoot up. “Like me? No, Petra. You don’t want that. I was a demon.”

“And yet you turned out fine in the end.”

“I turned out weak,” he says, abruptly severe. He drags his fingers through his disheveled hair, staring forlornly at the white wall behind you. “I wanted to help you but I can’t. I followed you from Galway to Cork, to the first-class decks, to your staterooms, and now…now when we dock in New York you’re going to get dragged off to wherever Daemon wants you to be and…and there’s just nothing I can do about it.”

“You’ve helped me,” you insist. “But now you’re too far away.”

Aegon comes over to your side of the table and drapes an arm across the back of your chair, and you lean into him, and together you watch the couples dancing to cheerful Irish music. Below your feet the engines are humming, and outside the waves are crashing against the hull of the ship, and up on B-Deck Daemon is probably crawling like a spider into Rhaenyra’s bed, and Laenor is consorting with his new Parisien companions, and Dagmar is reading some Scandinavian story to Draco before he falls asleep, and husbands are dulling their worries with brandy and cigars, and wives are distracting themselves with gossip about other women’s lives.

You don’t want to leave, not even as the passengers here in the Third-Class Dining Saloon begin to clear out and those left are so drunk they can hardly keep themselves upright, stumbling into tables and chairs and howling uproariously. Aegon doesn’t want to leave either. Now his arms have circled around your waist, and he’s nuzzling at your throat and the curve of your jaw, and you’re trying not to notice the weight of your black opal engagement ring on your left hand so you can forget the life you’ll have to go back to tomorrow.

I want him again, you think hazily. Where can we go? Where on earth can we go?

There is a sudden jolt, a deafening grinding sound, a tremor that shakes through the steel latticework of the ship. The few remaining dancers shout and cling to their partners. Pints of beer are knocked from tables and spill across the floor. Plates clatter and lightweight wooden chairs slide away.

“What the fuck was that?” a drunk man slurs, but then he and his friends begin to laugh about it, pounding on each other’s backs. You turn to Aegon. He’s not laughing. His eyes are large and darting around.

“Aegon, the ship is fine, right?”

“Yeah,” he says quickly, but he’s standing and passing you your white wool coat. “Come on. Let’s go up to a higher deck to see what’s happened.”

You picture the lifeboats that you have strolled past so many times, not nearly enough space for all the passengers, only the lucky half, the richest half. “The ship can’t sink, can it? That’s what everyone’s been telling me since we boarded, and I didn’t believe them because of course any ship can sink, but…Aegon…”

“It’s probably just a problem with one of the boilers or a propeller or something,” he says as he pulls on his black coat, stolen just like the way he’s stolen you tonight. But he doesn’t walk to the hallway and up the nearest staircase; he damn near sprints, dragging you along with him.

Outside the night sky is black and full of stars, bitterly cold, no wind. You emerge near the bow of the ship, and third-class passengers are kicking around chunks of ice as if they are playing Gaelic football. Aegon spins around, searching for the source of the ice.

“Ehi, amico! Did you see it?” an Italian man calls to Aegon. Aegon trots over to join him. You look down at the pine planks under your shoes. Is the ship listing towards the starboard side, or is that your imagination?

“No, what happened?” Aegon is asking the Italian. You can hear voices from the other decks, less alarmed than curious, people rattled awake, stewards helping to retrieve items that have rolled away.

“Iceberg, a huge one! We just went right past it! Pieces broke off and fell everywhere. We don’t have nothing like this in Napoli!”

“An iceberg?” Aegon echoes, stunned. He goes to the railing and leans over to squint out into the blackness. “Did we hit it?”

“We bumped it a little, I think,” the Italian says, unconcerned. Then he returns to the game, kicking a block of ice when it glides over to him.

“Look,” you say to Aegon when he returns to you, pointing skyward. Up in the crow’s nest, you can just barely hear the lookouts shouting back and forth. You cannot decipher their words, but they sound agitated. They sound afraid.

“Hit an iceberg,” Aegon murmurs, trying to make sense of it. “But that’s not serious, right? No one’s running for the lifeboats, no one’s talking about leaks or anything—”

“Aegon, does the ship seem like it’s listing to you?”

He peers down at the deck, shifts his weight from foot to foot. He doesn’t have to answer. When he looks up at you again, his blue eyes are panic-stricken.

“I have to find the shipbuilder Mr. Andrews,” you say. “He’ll have investigated, he’ll know how bad the damage is.”

“I’m going with you.”

I don’t know where my jailers are: Daemon, Dagmar, Rush, Rhaenyra. “You shouldn’t be in my section of the ship.”

“If something really is wrong, they’ll be the first people to know,” Aegon says. That’s cruel, but it’s true. First-class lives are worth more than his.

You fly up the steps to A-Deck, where on the Promenade Deck men in black suits are chuckling about the ruckus as they puff on pipes and cigars, and women in beaded evening gowns are pressing their soft pampered hands to their chests as they recall the shock of the earthquake-like shudder that rattled Titanic. Stewards are flitting around fetching tea and pillows. No one is talking about lifeboats or sinking, which you take to be a good sign; but you can’t find Thomas Andrews.

When you and Aegon have at last circled back to the bow of the ship, you spot a group of men walking swiftly into the glass box of the bridge. They are speaking in low voices, their hands moving in frenetic gestures. Thomas Andrews is there, you are relieved to see. J. Bruce Ismay and Captain Smith are among those with him.

“Mr. Andrews!” you cry, and he stops and turns. He is carrying an armful of rolled-up engineering drawings.

“Lady Targaryen,” he says numbly, then seems to lurch out of a trance and hurries to you, standing closer than would be considered proper. In his state, he has not noticed Aegon, lurking a few paces behind you and listening intently. “Your family, Daemon and the others…you must wake them.”

“I saw the ice on the deck by the bow, did the ship—?”

“We hit it,” Mr. Andrews tells you, hushed so others will not hear and become hysterical. “An iceberg. Scraped along the side, caused the iron plates to buckle below the waterline. I’ve seen the forward cargo holds and they’re…” He blinks, astonished, as if this is a nightmare he might still wake up from.

This can’t be happening. This ship was supposed to be unsinkable. That’s what everybody told me, that I was insane to fear the journey. “But…but what about the watertight bulkheads?” He had spoken so confidently of them at dinner just a few nights ago.

“I didn’t built them high enough, and seawater is spilling over the tops. The first five compartments are already flooded, too many for Titanic to stay afloat.”

“The ship will sink?” you whisper, terrified. Aegon moves closer, a palm on the small of your back.

“Yes,” Mr. Andrews says.

“When?”

“Perhaps an hour or two.”

“An hour?!”

“Carpathia has answered our distress call, but she’s four hours away.”

You stare at him. “And the ocean…it’s freezing.” Anyone left adrift in it will die.

“Get to a lifeboat, Lady Targaryen,” Mr. Andrews says. “Don’t wait. I’m doing everything I can.” He rejoins the other men and goes with them into the bridge. Behind the glass walls, J. Bruce Ismay begins to yell something at Captain Smith.

“Hey, hey, listen,” Aegon is telling you, but you can’t seem to focus on him. His voice sounds like it is coming from very far away, another coast, another lifetime.

“There aren’t enough lifeboats,” you say, flat with shock.

“I know. I remember what you told Fern when I saw you up on the Boat Deck.”

You race for the steps that lead down to B-Deck where your staterooms are. “I have to find Draco—”

“Wait, wait, listen to me.” Aegon’s hand reaches out and grasps yours, not imprisoning you but imploring you, begging you to hear him. “Half the people on this ship are going to die.”

“Yes,” you agree, the horror of it quivering in your voice. In the frigid night air your words turn to fog like the mist that clings to the Cliffs of Moher, like ghosts captured in the corners of photographs.

“And most of the bodies will never be recovered, and there will be no way of knowing for sure what happened to them, and the crime scene will be at the bottom of the ocean.”

Crime scene? Crime scene??? “Aegon, what are you talking about?”

“Don’t you get it? Petra, this is your way out. I’ll help you. We’ll do this together.”

Draco. I have to get Draco into a lifeboat. “Aegon, I don’t understand, do what?”

His eyes are gleaming; the grin that splits across his face reveals teeth like pearls. “We’re going to kill your husband.”

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