#villa slow

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 12

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster @chonkybonky @eau-rougee @champomiel @justyouraverageeverydaysimp @multifandom-loser

Warnings: Argument, misogyny, a man being a putz and hitting on reader (he grabs her wrist), and protective!Charles (yes, that’s a warning)

ao3 link  next chapter>>

Princess Leclerc,

I am, admittedly, surprised by your letter. It’s not often that a princess writes to me after I attend her brother-in-law’s coronation with tales of foreboding. 

I’m happy that you call me a friend. It’s nice to know that I have confidante in this upscale ladder of hierarchy. 

Concerning your words, I’m afraid I can’t say much more. My father would have my hide. Hopefully, he doesn’t find out that we’re conversing. 

Enza and Redull have always had a rivalry. It started when Redull was an up- and- coming kingdom. Enza felt threatened, so the king sent troops to watch over our building and monarchy. The people of Redull didn’t look kindly on that, and if Enzan troops hadn’t been deployed, Redull’s territory could be much more expensive today. My kingdom has never forgiven yours. My father, especially, had a personal vendetta against Enza. I’m not sure I’m in a position to disclose why. 

There is the past. I cannot tell you the future. All I can say is: tread carefully in the present.

Best wishes,

Prince Max Verstappen 

P.S. pawn to f6

**

“King Stein, once again, I wish to express my immense gratitude for allowing me and my wife to stay with you.” Charles shook King Stein’s hand and bowed. It was a lovely day and the royals of both Enza and Haas stood on the steps of the Haas castle. 

“It’s my pleasure!” King Stein grinned. “The kingdom of Haas is always welcome to Enzans. And my daughter loves having Princess Y/n as a playmate.” Charles glanced over to watch as you swooped up the princess of Haas in a large hug, whispering goodbyes and promises to come again. “But Prince Charles,” King Stein gripped the younger man closer. “Remember what we discussed. It’s vital to Formuline’s future. I recommend sending your quickest messenger to your brother to tell him what you learned.”

“Yes, of course. Once again, my deepest thanks.” Charles bowed once more before his eyes shifted back over to you. “Darling,” Charles ambled over to you and the young princess, setting a hand on your lower back. “We really should be going; King Verstappen is expecting us before nightfall.”

You sighed dramatically. “You’re right, unfortunately. I am so sorry, Princess.” You set the girl down, bopping her on the nose. “I must go now.”

The Princess of Haas groaned. “Noooo! Princess Y/n! We’re not done playing!”

“I know, dear,” you crouched down and pouted. “But I’ll visit soon, okay?”

“Okay…” the young girl huffed. “Do you think you could bring your baby next time?”

You frowned cautiously. “What baby?”

“Your and Prince Charles’ baby!” The girl exclaimed, “everybody has babies and I wanna see yours! I bet they're adorable!”

“We’ll get right on that,” Charles smirked, hand snaking to your waist and pinching your side. You slapped his hand away and bid goodbye to the monarchs of Haas.

The flirting between you and Charles had increased, and you weren’t sure why. It made you feel like a teenager again, daydreaming about the beautiful people you saw at court with your sisters. Your connection with Charles had grown ever since the night at Foundling Villa and the unfortunate death of King Hervé. Along with the connection, the butterflies in your stomach. 

Charles took his place beside you in the carriage and opened up a small chest. “What are you doing?” You hummed, peering at the chest and resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I need to write a letter to Lorenzo,” Charles explained. “King Stein said some very interesting things that shed some light on our current situation.”

“Like what?” You nuzzled into his side, feeling tired after your visit in Haas. Charles focused on the parchment, quill, and ink in front of him. He hoped to ignore the fluttering in his stomach and the pain in his chest.

He started composing his letter to Lorenzo, simultaneously telling you what he had learned. “Redull came to Haas asking for an alliance. Haas demanded to know why, but Redull refused. King Stein heard from King Hamilton that Redull also came to him. We’re nowhere close to knowing their plan, but it’s going to be big. Clearly, Redull doesn’t believe they can do it alone. As long as we keep allies away from them, it’ll buy us more time. I don’t want to believe my worries, but Redull may be looking for war. If they acquire the support of another large kingdom, or even a smaller kingdom such as Lauren or Aston, their army would amass overwhelming numbers that could easily cut down all of Formuline.”

When you didn’t respond with helpful insight or advice, Charles looked down at your sleeping figure. “Oh.” He blinked twice. Does this mean she trusts me now?

**

“Y/n, cherié,” Charles rubbed your back gently. “We’ve arrived in Redull.”

“What?” You mumbled, curling into him. 

“You must awaken. We have to meet with King Verstappen.” 

“Right, yes, alright.” You nodded sagely, and then promptly went back to sleep. Charles chuckled deeply. He continued to whisper sweet nothings into your ear and gently coax you awake until you were fully conscious. “I am so sorry,” you shook your head, embarrassed. “I guess the rocking of the carriage put me to sleep.”

“That’s quite alright, but we still have a meeting to attend to.” Charles knocked on the carriage interior and the door sprung open by a footman. 

“Must I join you in the meeting?” you wondered. 

Charles frowned. “I would prefer it. I’m not sure I trust the people of Redull. Especially the aristocrats. I would rather have you close by so I can see and tend to you.”

“Well, that’s very sweet, Charles, but I’m pretty sure I can handle my own.” 

“If that’s what you want,” he conceded. 

Stepping down from the carriage, you two were greeted by King Verstappen and his son, Prince Max. “Prince Leclerc! Princess Leclerc! What a pleasure to have you join us in Redull!” The two men were dressed to the nines in a way that made you suspect they were trying to upstage or intimidate you. Prince Max muttered something and his father shot him a glare, murmuring a harsh complaint back.

“King Verstappen, how chivalrous of you to invite us,” Charles said.

“Well, once I heard about your newlywed excursion around the continent, I simply had to. It didn’t seem right that you would pass through Formuline without visiting Redull. We are one of your closest allies.” The words had a thinly veiled threat hidden in it. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, after all.

“I can’t imagine how we skipped over Redull,” you spoke up, surprising the Redull monarch. “It pains me that I wouldn’t visit my good friend, Prince Verstappen.” The said man bowed lowly to you. “Oh, and Prince Verstappen,” you began. “King's pawn to e3.”

**

The throne room was bustling with people. You stuck to the edges of the room, priding yourself as a wallflower. You dreaded your decision of not following Charles to his meeting with King Verstappen. Instead of being with your husband, whom you knew, you were stuck in a room full of foreign strangers. Who knew if they were whispering behind your back, plotting the demise of Enza? Needles seemed to prick down your spine. You didn’t feel safe. You felt surrounded by wolves in sheep's clothing. Here in Redull, Charles was the only other sheep you could count on, certain he wasn’t wearing a disguise.

It didn’t help your discomfort that a man kept watching you over the rim of his glass.

This man, in military garb, had shaved blond hair and a lanky frame. His eyes, which bored into you, were a dark brown. You carefully watched as he set down his goblet and stalked over to you. 

Immediately, you turned away. Your gown, which had just been cleaned after the long trip, swished around your feet. The simple tiara that Redull maids had woven into your hair felt heavy. Spying the doors- your exit- you hurried towards them.

“Do you know where Prince Charles is?” you asked one of the guards stationed nearby. Once he gave you directions, you set out down the corridor he instructed. A quick glance over your shoulder confirmed your fears; the military man was following you. An unnerving smirk flew onto his lips when you made eye contact. You turned away and your steps became faster. You knew that as long as you found Charles, this man would leave you alone. You wondered if you should’ve stayed in the throne room- at least people were there to witness anything. Guards had lined the room, capable of intervening. Cursing your impulsive thinking, you knew you were too far into the halls of Redull to turn back. 

Unfortunately, the man caught up to you just as you rounded a corner. “Princess Y/n of Enza, correct?” His gravelly voice made your insides curl with disgust. 

“Princess Leclerc, yes,” you corrected him, attempting to brush past. Just one more hallway and the room where Charles sat would be in your sights. 

“I’m Duke Samuel Hasting. I also hold the title of a commander of King Verstappen’s cavalry.” He seemed to boast, yet his brag wasn’t as grand as he had hoped.

“Fascinating.” You wanted to roll your eyes. “I also hold the title of married.”

“Yet, where’s your husband?” Hasting looked even more disgusting as he lent into you. 

“In a room right down the hall, actually. Would you like me to grab him for you?” 

“No, no, that’s alright. I’m sure he doesn’t have to know everything that happens to you.” Hasting grabbed your wrist.

“I will scream,” you said lowly. It sounded more like a threat than a warning. “Let go of me this instant.”

“Oh, Princess, you don’t mean that.” It sounded like Hasting was trying to sound seductive, but he just sounded constipated.

“I do mean it,” you retorted. “Why would I say it otherwise? That’s stupid.” You wrenched out of his grip and stormed down the hall. Finally turning the corner, you saw Charles exiting the meeting room, shaking hands with advisors of Redull, looking pleased, yet reserved. 

“Y/n!” Hasting called out sharply.

“Y/n?” Charles’ head turned towards you. You let out a sigh of relief. Seeing your expression, Charles’ brows furrowed. “What’s wrong?” He stepped towards you, hand outstretched and you grasped it thankfully. “Y/n?” he asked again.

“Please, can we leave?” you asked.

“Yes, but why?” Charles’ eyes darted to Hasting, who stood at the end of the corridor.

“Princess Y/n was bothering me,” Hasting smoothly lied. “Making advances, and such. I thought you should know.”

“Is this true, cherié?” Charles glanced down at you. 

You shook your head, a little hurt that he thought you would flirt with another man. “The opposite, actually. I was coming to get you when this… Duke grabbed me.”

“He touched you?” Charles’ words became dangerously low. 

“He took hold of my wrist, Charles. It wasn’t that bad.”

“No, you’re wrong. He should never have touched you. What this Duke did was betray the trust of Enza by pursuing you.” Your husband shot a look at the Redull advisors, who shrunk from his stare.

“Charles, please, can we simply leave? I don’t feel comfortable here.” Admittedly, this new protective, even possessive, side of Charles sparked something within you.

“If that’s what you want.” Charles shot one last glare at Hasting. Hasting glowered back, pissed that you outed him. Charles placed a hand on your back and swept you towards the palace entrance.

As you and your husband passed Hasting, the latter man clapped a strong hand on your shoulder, jerked you backward, and snarled, “you bitch!” His hand drew back, as if to slap you, but Charles intervened.

It would best be described as a dance. Charles’ movements were fluid and languid. In one motion, Charles gently pushed you behind him, reared back, and punched the man. “That is my wife!” A primal instinct seemed to rush over him: an instinct to protect what he loved. 

Blood poured out of Hasting’s broken nose and the skin at Charles’ knuckles split. Redull advisors were quick to pull Charles back, lest he do anything worse. You and Charles were ushered out of the Redull palace, hurried goodbyes from both you and Prince Max; you wanted one good tie to the kingdom. 

Once you were in the carriage, tying one of your handkerchiefs around his hand, you whispered softly, “thank you, Charles.”

Charles’ eyes had gone from livid to loving. “I told you- I’d do anything for you.”

[urloveangel]

[whitehartlane]

reports chelsea and newcastle are sympathetic to city and might join the lawsuit makes sense considering their own fundings but villa potentially also being sympathetic has done my head in. this is what’s wrong with modern pl football. the fact that city and chelsea have cheated their way into being champions and haven’t even got a slap on the wrist for it by the league means that other clubs are taking their example and attempting to shortcut their way into becoming a consistent top 4 club as well (you’ve seen it with newcastle now and if the villa rumours are true then they’re also eyeing dodgy investment to fast track them to the top).

it’s a rollercoaster that doesn’t stop. even if they get reprimanded now post everything, chelsea and city have still built their global success and fame and that kind of legacy doesn’t fade with a few financial restrictions. it’s an absolute slap in the face to clubs like us that languished in midtable and the lower half for decades before we had an owner who was committed to the financial growth of the club take over and slowly build us to the point of gaining enough revenue to attract the best players and be able to compete financially against the historically successful clubs in the league. like what is even the point trying to compete when the league doesn’t care?

[metanoia-haus]

ɪɴsᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ @ᴀʀᴄʜɪᴛᴇᴄᴛᴜʀᴇ.ᴡᴀᴠᴇ:

[oopsl]

Both Directions At Once: The Lost Album by John Coltrane, 2018

[fabriziosbardella]

Il nuovo appuntamento col Mercato Contadino a Villa Cortese sarà sabato 6 aprile dalle 9 alle 13 presso Piazza Della  Quercia ( Via A. Da Giussano)  #mercatocontadino #villacortese #eventi #mercatini #chilometrozero #slowfood #fabriziosbardella #prodottistagionali #inevidenza #primopiano

[rafecameronssl4t]

Chosen || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader (love island au)

Summary: (lil backstory) you and Rafe have been a couple since day one and are pretty closed off but a new bombshell has come and chose Rafe for a date and now it’s time for her to choose who she wants to couple up with.

Warnings: angst

Word count: 2,070

A/n: Inspired by the whole ordeal between rob liv and leah in love island usa lol SECOND PART IS HERE

MASTERLIST (love island au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

The villa was buzzing with the usual pre-recoupling jitters, and as you sat at your vanity, carefully applying the final touches of makeup, you heard Rafe’s voice echo down the hallway. “Babe,” he called out, his tone relaxed yet filled with that casual affection you’d grown to love. “Yeah, I’m in here!” you responded, smiling to yourself.

Through the mirror, you caught the familiar image of him entering, his sandy-blonde hair tousled, sun-kissed skin accentuating the sharp angles of his face. Your eyes met in the mirror, and the edges of his mouth softened into a smile that made your heart flutter.

“You okay?” he asked, stepping closer and bending down to press a gentle kiss to your shoulder, lingering just long enough to make you feel like he was truly checking in. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?” you chuckled, meeting his eyes in the mirror with a playful glint. He watched your reflection intently, as if trying to read your every expression.

“Just making sure,” he murmured, pulling a chair up beside yours. He settled in, crossing his arms, his gaze steady as he watched you apply the last bit of powder. You raised an eyebrow, feigning a casual tone. “Why? Should I be worried? Is there something you’re not telling me about your date with Kayla?” You smirked, trying to keep it light, but deep down, you were fishing for any reassurance you could get.

His hand found its way to your thigh, his grip warm and reassuring as his thumb brushed soothing circles. “No, of course not,” he said, his tone calm yet firm. “I told you everything, and, honestly, I don’t think she’ll pick me. We don’t have that spark—you and I do, though, yeah?” His eyes held yours, his expression open and genuine.

His gaze was steady, his smile reassuring, and despite the flicker of insecurity, you let out a slow breath, his words sinking in and soothing the lingering doubts in the back of your mind. “Okay,” you said finally, a genuine smile breaking through as he chuckled.

“You’re adorable, you know that?” he said, leaning in to press a series of soft kisses along your bare shoulder making you giggle, a genuine, unrestrained laugh that he seemed to crave as he pulled back, grinning. “What are you wearing tonight?” he asked, scanning the room with an approving gaze as his eyes landed on the green dress you’d laid out on the armchair nearby.

“That one.” You nodded toward the dress, and he hummed, his smile widening in approval. “Good choice. It’s gonna drive the others crazy.” “Glad you think so,” you replied, warmth creeping into your cheeks as you noticed the way he looked at you—like you were the only person who existed.

“Well, I’ll let you get ready,” he said, standing up and moving behind you. Through the mirror, you caught yourself staring. How could you not when Rafe looked so... edible. He met your gaze in the mirror, catching your look, and smirked. “Like what you see, Mrs. Cameron?” he teased, his voice dropping to a playful, almost dangerous tone that made you laugh.

“Very much,” you replied, tilting your head back as he leaned down, catching your lips in a kiss that was both soft and full of promise, a reminder of the bond that the two of you had since day one. But before things could get too heated, you gently placed a hand on his jaw, pushing him back with a giggle.

“Alright, alright, I’m going!” he said, chuckling as he stepped back. Before he could leave, the door opened, and you both turned to see Kayla enter, her eyes lighting up at the sight of Rafe. “Hey,” Rafe greeted her casually, his tone polite but distant. You watched them exchange brief smiles before looking away, busying yourself with your lip gloss as Kayla approached her drawers.

“Hey, Y/n,” she greeted you brightly, her tone friendly as she settled beside you. “Hey,” you replied with a polite smile. “Excited for tonight?” “Oh, definitely!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “I’m so ready to sleep next to someone again; it’s been way too long.” She giggled, and you chuckled in response, keeping the mood light even as you fought off a pang of unease.

“Do you know who you’re choosing?” you asked, carefully applying your lip gloss as she fiddled with something in her drawer. She nodded confidently, her fingers tapping lightly as she glanced at you with a knowing smile. “Uh-huh. I knew who I was gonna pick the second I walked in here.”

You nodded, hoping your expression didn’t betray the subtle tightening in your chest. It was in these little moments that the villa’s intensity hit, the constant swirl of emotions and unspoken fears. But as you caught a glimpse of your own reflection, you reminded yourself of the quiet confidence in Rafe’s words, of the unspoken bond you’d built.

~

The night air felt thick with tension as everyone gathered around the firepit, the familiar crackling flames casting flickering shadows across the group. You sat beside Rafe, his arm draped casually over your shoulders. The warmth of his touch had been a quiet comfort, his thumb tracing soothing patterns along your skin—a small reassurance that whatever happened tonight, he was there.

But as Kayla’s voice broke through the murmur of anticipation, her words twisted the air around you, each one slicing deeper than the last. "I'm coupling up with this person because, from the moment we started talking, I definitely sensed that we had potential and that there was a spark there that I want to explore," Kayla said, her tone confident and unwavering as her gaze locked on the group.

Your eyes dropped to the flames, heart pounding, silently willing her words to be about someone else. When she finally spoke his name, “The person I want to couple up with is… Rafe,” the world seemed to freeze. Your breath hitched, and a wave of shock washed over you, cold and biting, despite the warmth of the firepit. Around you, a few gasps broke the silence, the girls’ faces mirroring the same surprise that you felt.

Your eyes darted to Kayla, disbelief clouding your expression, and then turned to Rafe, who sat motionless beside you, his face an unreadable mask as he stared blankly at the ground. “Really? Nothing to worry about?” you said, your voice low but sharp, brushing his arm off your shoulder. Anger surged through you, raw and uncontainable. You’d trusted him, taken his reassurances at face value.

And now, every promise felt like it had shattered between you. Rafe’s shoulders slumped slightly as he raked a hand through his hair, a long sigh escaping his lips as he shook his head. “Rafe, you look surprised at Kayla's decision,” the host, Sophie commented , looking at him expectantly. He hesitated, his gaze finally flickering up to meet Kayla’s. “Yeah, uh—I don’t know what to say, really,” he mumbled, the frown deepening across his face.

“I thought I made it clear that I wasn’t really interested,” he shrugged, but his words felt hollow to you, hanging in the tense air between him and Kayla. Kayla’s eyes flashed with indignation, and she crossed her arms, a hint of challenge in her expression. “Wow, yeah—that’s not how I felt during our date,” she said with a pointed look, and you felt a pang of betrayal twist in your stomach as her words settled over you.

The whole night, the small reassurances Rafe had given you, the gestures, the closeness—it all felt tainted. Sophie's voice cuts through, pulling you from the storm of emotions swirling within you. “Well, Kayla, if you could switch places with Y/n… and Y/n, if you could come stand beside me.” Standing, you avoided looking at Rafe or Kayla, the weight of the moment pressing down on you.

You forced yourself to breathe as you stepped away from the firepit, feeling the collective gaze of the group on you. “Y/n, you are now single, which leaves you vulnerable here on Love Island,” Sophie announced. You nodded slowly, your jaw tight as you bit down on your bottom lip, desperately holding back the flood of emotions welling inside you.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Rafe looking anywhere but at you, his gaze flickering across the ground as if trying to distance himself from the situation. The sense of betrayal weighed heavily on you, every unspoken word thickening the air between you. As soon as Sophie left, the girls immediately swarmed around you, their arms linking through yours as they ushered you away from the firepit and into the makeup room.

“Unbelievable,” you muttered to Sofia, who gave you a sympathetic squeeze. “Honestly, you deserve so much better than that,” she whispered, her hand rubbing comforting circles on your back.

~

Rafe’s voice was soft but strained as he appeared behind you, his presence looming uncertainly. “Can we please talk?” His tone was laced with a vulnerability you weren’t used to seeing in him. His gaze drifted to your face, catching the redness around your eyes, the remnants of tears. You sighed, dabbing away the traces of mascara that had smudged beneath your eyes.

“I don’t think there’s much to talk about, Rafe.” You shrugged, brushing him off as you tried to compose yourself. “Y/n, please,” he insisted, the desperation in his voice tugging at the edges of your anger. “I swear to god, I was making it crystal clear that I wasn’t interested. I told her, over and over, that I was in a happy situation with you.”

You felt the flicker of an ache under your ribs, a small crack in the wall you’d put up. “Then why, Rafe?” Your voice rose, bitterness spilling over. “Why did she pick you? She wouldn’t have done that out of the blue if she didn’t think there was something real, something genuine, between you two.” Your words struck him, and he took a small step back, almost flinching.

He opened his mouth as if to argue but stopped, as if suddenly unsure. “I don’t know why she chose me,” he said, his voice barely a whisper. “But you have to believe me, Y/n. None of this meant anything to me—she doesn’t mean anything to me.” He looked at you, and for a split second, you caught something raw, almost pleading, in his expression.

But the anger and the hurt still clouded your heart. You shook your head, exhaustion coating your words. “I’m just… I’m really tired, Rafe. I just want to go to bed.” You didn’t meet his eyes, the weight of the evening pressing down on you. He paused, the silence stretching painfully between you both. “Right. Good night, then,” he murmured, his voice tinged with a sadness that lingered in the air as he turned and left.

By the time you walked into the bedroom, Sofia was already there, her arms opening for you without a word. You melted into her embrace, the comfort of her support soothing your frazzled nerves. “You’ll be okay,” she whispered, squeezing you tightly before you finally pulled away, giving her a small, grateful smile.

As you made your way to your bed, your gaze involuntarily flickered to Kayla’s. She lay there, already settled in, Rafe’s pillow on the other side, and it made your stomach churn. You slipped into bed, laying in the center, feeling an aching emptiness beside you. Rafe should have been there. His warmth, his steady breathing as you fell asleep, had been a constant.

Then, as if on cue Rafe walked into the room. His eyes skimmed over you for a second before he headed toward Kayla’s bed. The air was thick with unspoken words, unacknowledged feelings, and for a moment, you wanted to reach out, to say something, but you held back, the bitterness fresh in your chest. Rafe leaned over, whispering something to Kayla, though you couldn’t make out the words.

Then, without warning, he grabbed his pillow, stepping away from her bed and heading out of the room. You caught Sofia’s gaze across the dimly lit space, her knowing look meeting your own. She offered a small smile of understanding, and you returned it faintly before letting your eyes drift shut, hoping sleep would bring a break from all the emotions.

next

[miryum]

Foundling Villa- Chapter 10

Royal!Charles Leclerc x Reader. Princess Y/n is arranged to marry Prince Charles. There will be many ups and downs that the author hasn’t planned out yet, but read along to find out more! (Yes, I know that sounds super cheesy) Warnings per chapter. Hope you guys enjoy!

Tag list: @notleclerc @sunsumonner @saturnsrinqs @livster

Warnings: death, funeral 

ao3 link  next chapter>>

King Hervé’s funeral was elegant. That much you could say. Whether it was what he would’ve wanted, you didn’t know. Even though you didn’t know King Hervé well, from the few encounters you had, he had seemed like a compassionate and gentle man. 

Before your wedding, you had read up on the history of Enza, and found that King Hervé had been the one to push Enza into modern times. The economy had grown, the people had prospered, and his family was happy. Suffice to say, the kingdom of Enza had taken a blow with his death. 

Even if you didn’t know the person who died, it was still depressing to be around the people who did. The air of death was prominent and it pulled you down with it. You and Charles had returned to Enza’s palace and Charles quickly found his place within the arms of his mother. You were left to float around the palace, unsure of what to do. You were only Enzan by marriage and Charles only a royal spare, so you didn’t need to be involved in the lengthy meetings that were happening around the clock. Maybe if Charles was first in line you would be pulled in, but alas, you were left alone. 

King Hervé’s passing had brought other monarchs to Enza to express their sorrow, pay tribute at the funeral, and pledge their allegiance to the new King, Lorenzo. Because of the influx of wealthy people, the rooms of Enza were quickly filled up. You and Charles agreed to share a room so more people could come to mourn his father. 

Queen Pascale didn’t tell you that there were more than enough rooms for you and your husband to sleep separately. 

You didn’t remember the funeral; it was more like a grey cloud in your mind. What you remembered was Charles standing next to you, head bowed and eyes full of tears. You remembered Queen Pascale’s black dress and veil and the flowers surrounding the casket. But the priest's words were lost on you. You mumbled the prayers in a resounding mass with everyone else, but you didn’t comprehend the words. Later, you felt guilty, as if you personally offended King Hervé by not embracing the prayers. But you knew that his family had likely done the same. You would look over to see Charles as a still statue, eyes fixated on the casket as if he could raise his father from the dead just by wishing hard enough. 

Once the funeral ended, it was as if a switch had been flipped. Enza needed a king, and fast. Coronation plans were thrust before Lorenzo and you felt bad for the poor boy. The only reminder of King Hervé’s death was Queen Pascale, wandering the halls in her mourning clothes.

One night, after chatting with Este, you went back to yours and Charles’ shared room. You were surprised to find it pitch black. The curtains, which usually allowed in an inkling of light, were tied tightly shut. The fireplace embers had long since died and you couldn’t help but wonder if they died the same time King Hervé did.

You shuffled towards the windows, intent on opening the curtains. Your eyes hadn’t adjusted yet and you were worried about knocking something over. Just as you reached the window, movement caught your eye. 

Charles was wrapped around himself in bed, a mountain of blankets crushing him. It dawned on you that this was his doing; he was the one to shut the curtains and kill the fire. His father’s death was finally catching up to him.

You weren’t sure if you should intervene, but you couldn’t leave him there with his thoughts. Loneliness would only make it worse. "Charles? Can you talk to me? You shouldn't be alone."

The room was dark with the overhang of death in the air. "He can't be gone," you heard Charles mutter. "How can the world keep turning without him?"

"Because there's still more to live for." You sat on the bed and the lump of blankets shifted. Finally, your eyes adjusted to the darkness and you could see Charles gazing up at you, tears blurring his eyes.

"Y/n, I can't." Charles tried to plead with you. The sharp, unbelieving pain had subsided into a deep ache in his gut. It was like sadness consumed him, forcing him to wallow in it forever. The reality that someone could leave you forever had not set in yet. How did people cope? How did people grieve? How could someone go on living while someone else is dead?

"Charles, may I give you a word of advice?"

"Please do. Anything." Charles curled into himself even more, if that was possible.

"A famous poet once said, ‘Not a whit, we defy augury. There is a special providence in the fall of a sparrow. If it be now, 'tis not to come; if it be not to come, it will be now; if it be not now, yet it will come. The readiness is all. Since no man of aught he leaves knows, what is 't to leave betimes? Let be.’” You shifted so you were against the headboard, legs outstretched. Charles lay next to you. He twisted to face you. 

“I’m not ready to let be,” he whispered. 

“That’s okay.” The majority of you screamed not to, but the tiny side prevailed. You let a hand drift down to his hair and started combing through it, drawing circles on his temples and cheeks. 

Charles closed his eyes. “I like it when you call me Charles,” he said. 

You exhaled a laugh. “You told me.” 

“I just thought I should remind you.” 

“Thank you for doing so.”

Charles let himself relax into the bed and your touch. The two of you stayed there for a long time. You felt content, yet terrified. You thought, this shouldn’t feel like home.

**

As a direct opposite to the King’s funeral, Lorenzo’s coronation was a swirl of colours, laughter, and dancing. True to tradition, all the Leclerc brothers wore a dash of black for their deceased father and Queen Pascale still donned her black gown and robe, but you would’ve thought that the party was one of the liveliest had it not been for those factors.

Your own dress fell elegantly to the floor and Este had brushed aside customs to place you in a deep green gown. Este had said, “so many people in Enzan colours. Ah, you have to stand out!” He had then placed a silver tiara on your head, woven into your hair to insure it didn’t fall. 

The feast afterwards, even though it was held in a grand hall, felt suffocating. Dignitaries and royals from all the kingdoms in Formuline joined you that evening. Your own parents stayed far away from you, and for that you were thankful. Charles made sure to always have an eye on you in case anything was to arise. 

As the evening was winding down, you found yourself in the company of a knight, Daniel. He made you laugh like no other and even introduced you to other lords and advisors you recognised as Charles’ confidants. 

“Princess Leclerc?” An accented voice came from behind you and your insides fluttered at your new surname. You twirled around, expecting to find another friend of Charles’. Instead, your smile faltered when Prince Verstappen came into your view.

“Prince Verstappen.” You lowered your head in an informal bow. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was wondering if the princess would grace me with a dance?” He held a hand out and the aristocrats around you fell silent. Lord Carlos slipped away to find Charles. 

“It would be rude to say no.” You placed your hand in his. 

The dance was awkward at first. You were acutely aware of the eyes on you, including the protective ones of Charles who had quickly located you after Lord Carlos whispered the situation to him. Charles couldn’t simply break up the dance- it would be considered militant and pugnacious. He would have to be content to wait and swoop in the moment the dance ended. 

“Princess Y/n, I’m sure you’ve guessed that I have an ulterior motive for dancing with you,” Prince Verstappen said. His eyes carefully scanned the room, never once looking down at you. 

“Yes, and I would like to know what it is.” Your reply was curt.

“Williams was a close ally to Redull until recent circumstances. My father was always fond of yours, and in turn, I was of you and your siblings. Don’t take this harshly, Princess, but I would… suggest that you take a trip to Aston or Alpine- somewhere far away from Redull and Enza. I encourage you to tell all whom you love to do the same.”

“Prince Verstappen, I’m sorry to say, but I don’t understand.” You shook your head. You wanted to step back and off of the dance floor, but you felt like you had an obligation to hear him out. His words were confusing and worrisome.

“I’m not even supposed to be here,” Prince Verstappen continued. “My father didn’t want anyone from Redull to attend the coronation, much less the pledging.” He was referring to when the other kingdoms pledged allegiance to the new King Lorenzo.

“Oh?” 

“But a total surprise isn’t fair to you, nor Enza’s people. You’ll do the best you can to stay out of the cross-fire, yes?” Prince Verstappen glanced down at you. His eyes were stern. At some point in his life, they probably held happiness and hope, but those times had long passed.

Before you could reply, the music swelled to an end and Charles strode towards you. Your husband placed a hand on your lower back and glowered at Prince Verstappen. “Are you alright, Y/n?” he murmured in your ear. You nodded and turned into him. Prince Verstappen bowed and excused himself. You peered after him. 

There was something he wasn’t telling you, and it didn’t sound good. 

[nottsangel]

okay this is my first little idea that i’m sending in so don’t judge if it’s bad😭

but like imagine a love island au and you and theo are pared up and he’s touching you in bed and he’s like talking you thru it but at the same time tilling you to be quiet 😫

— love island au moodboard

“theo… we— we can’t” you whisper urgently, hoping not to wake the other islanders as theo’s hand roams over your body, squeezing your tits before slowly travelling to your aching core. you feel unbearably needy, after not having been touched by anyone else or even yourself in weeks since arriving at the villa. yet, it feels so wrong— mattheo is snoring loudly on the bed next to you, his arms wrapped tightly around his girl, and on the other side, you hear the soft, wet sounds of making out on lorenzo’s bed. but getting caught by your fellow islanders isn’t even the worst part— it’s the microphone you’re forced to wear 24/7 that makes you second-guess everything. it feels so… awkward to let everyone at home hear what you’re doing— to let them hear the filthy words theo’s whispering right into your ear.

“shhh, just let me take care of my girl. i know you’ve been craving for my touch, hm?” he teases, fully aware of how touch-deprived you’ve been, evident by all the little touches you’ve given him throughout the past few days, but too hesitant to take it further. you can’t help but feel yourself become wetter and wetter at theo’s touch, as you instinctively spread your legs a litter wider, inviting him in. “that’s a good girl. gonna make you feel so good.” he murmurs right into your ear, faces merely inches away from each other as you have your arms wrapped around his neck, clinging to him while you try to relax.

“tell me what you want.” he demands, his hand cupping your aching cunt and not giving you what you want— no, need, just yet. “i want to feel you, please. need it so bad.” theo chuckles condescendingly, his soft lips attached to your neck as he hungrily sucks on the sensitive skin, marking it with dark hickeys as his body presses intimately close to yours. “you want me to finger you in the same room as the others? while everyone at home can hear your pretty moans? naughty girl.” he taunts, his fingers teasing your clothed pussy, already dripping with arousal as you can only nod eagerly in response, gazing up at him with desperate, pleading eyes.

“please, theo, just— stop with the teasing and make me feel good, please?” you beg desperately, unable to take it any longer as you can feel your pussy throb at his words. he gazes down at you with a mischievous smirk, clearly enjoying how desperate you are for him as he slips his hand into your tight shorts and soaked underwear. “really? it’s this easy to make you wet?” he whispers seductively into your ear, his fingers slick with your arousal as he gently gathers your wetness. “you’re fucking adorable.”

you moan softly at his words, desperation taking over as you place your hand over his, seperated by the thin fabric of your shorts and panties, and push his hand deeper into you. “so desperate, hm? poor thing. let me help you, baby.” he growls, rubbing slow, tantalising circles on your aching clit, causing your lips to part, but no sound escapes. his fingers then wander to your dripping hole, pushing two fingers in at once, causing you to throw your head back at the full feeling. “fuck! theo, just like that!”

he groans at the cute moans slipping from your lips— god, how he wishes it was just you and him here, so he could make you scream his name until your throat hurts. but this is what you’re both dealing with now, and he’ll take whatever he can get. “shhh. you gotta be quiet for me, amore. think you can do that?” you nod obediently, biting down hard on your swollen lip as he starts rhythmically pumping his digits in and out of your soaked hole, and you so desperately hope the others won’t hear the slick, wet sounds coming from your shared bed.

“god, you’re so fucking sexy. do you know how hard it is for me to control myself when you moan right into my ear like this? wish i could take you right here and now, until you cum all over my cock.” his words are only driving you closer to the edge as his fingers curl up so perfectly, rubbing against your sweet spot, making you dig your sharp nails into his arm. “oh my god, right there!” his skilful fingers quicken as his soft lips captures yours in a passionate kiss in an attempt to silence your moans, knowing you’re close to the your release.

his other hand moves towards your tits, squeezing them firmly and toying with your hardened nipples, and that’s when you lose it— your orgasm hits you unexpectedly as you moan right into his mouth and arch your back, all your muscles tensing as your legs tremble uncontrollably. “that’s it, baby. there you go.” theo whispers soothingly, talking you through your orgasm as you slowly come down from your intense high. your chest heaves up and down, heart pounding wildly, when suddenly draco’s stern voice from the other side of the room causes you to flinch, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “so, are you guys done now? people are trying to sleep.”

ੈ♡˳

[jaylalolz]

hiii omg i think u should do a one shot w nicolas chavez and it should be like a honeymoon one! 🥹🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾🙏🏾

WIFE!reader x HUSBAND!nicholas 𝜗𝜚 ࣪˖ ִ𐙚

SUMMARY, how nicholas would treat his wife on their honeymoon

A/N, thanks for requesting, anon!! have fun reading

WARNINGS, none??

Nicholas had always been intense— whether on set, in the way he looked at you, or how he touched you-but on your honeymoon, he took it to another level entirely. The moment you arrived at the private villa, nestled on the edge of an untouched beach, Nicholas made sure you knew exactly what his intentions were. He had planned every detail, wanting to spoil you beyond your wildest dreams.

From the moment you stepped into the villa, it felt like a dream. The room was drenched in the soft glow of candlelight, and the sound of the ocean waves crashed gently in the background.

Nicholas had arranged for champagne to be chilling in the corner, and as you entered, he wasted no time pulling you into his arms, his lips grazing your neck in that way that made your skin tingle.

He handed you a glass, his eyes locking with yours as he toasted to forever-his voice low and seductive as he whispered promises of the life you'd build together.

He was different during this time— softer, more intimate. He insisted on pampering you in every way, starting with lazy mornings spent wrapped in silk sheets, where he'd trace the lines of your body as if memorizing every inch of you all over again. The way he'd look at you made it clear you were the only thing that mattered. Breakfasts were delivered to your room-luxurious spreads of fresh fruit, pastries, and champagne, though more often than not, they went untouched as you both got lost in each other instead.

In the afternoons, he would take you out on spontaneous adventures, sailing along the crystal-clear waters or exploring hidden coves where no one else could find you. His hand would always be on the small of your back, guiding you through every experience, whether it was a private wine tasting or a secluded dinner on the beach.

Nicholas would pull your chair close to his, his thumb running circles along your skin, his lips brushing yours between bites of dessert as if he couldn't get enough.

But the nights were when his intensity showed most. He'd draw you a bath filled with rose petals and fragrant oils, dimming the lights until the room felt like a sanctuary. He would sit beside you, his hand lazily tracing the surface of the water, his gaze dark and full of promise as he watched you soak. And when you were ready, he'd lift you from the water like you weighed nothing, wrapping you in a towel before carrying you to bed.

In the dim light of the room, he would take his time with you-slow, unhurried, his touch worshipping every part of you as though he was making up for all the nights you'd ever spent apart.

Nicholas's hands would move over you with a delicate reverence, his voice low as he whispered how beautiful you were, how lucky he was to have you. He wasn't just making love to you-he was claiming you in the most tender way possible, ensuring you felt adored, desired, and cherished.

Throughout the honeymoon, Nicholas was relentless in his devotion, showering you with lavish surprises— jewelry, designer dresses, and even a private concert under the stars where he played your favorite songs, his eyes never leaving yours. He loved to spoil you, but more than anything, he loved seeing your smile, knowing that every bit of happiness you felt was because of him.

And every time he looked at you, it was with the same hunger, the same fire. Because, for Nicholas, the honeymoon was just the beginning. The start of forever, where he could love you like this for the rest of your lives.

[libraryleopard]

Adult gothic thriller inspired by the life of Mary Shelley

Reimagines the Romantic poets as 70s rockstars

Follows a pair of estranged friends who decide to spend the summer at an infamous Italian villa known where an infamous murder occurred in the 70s

Dual timelines unravelling dangerous betrayals from the past and growing tensions in the present

[metanoia-haus]

ɪɴsᴛᴀɢʀᴀᴍ@ʜᴇɴᴅᴇʀsᴏɴᴊᴀʏɴᴇ:

[mrsimpurity]

belonging to old man logan… 

cw: smut (p in v), oral sex (m receiving), cum play, daddy kink, age gap

not as in being a sex slave. you’re free to do whatever you want, of course… you just don’t want to. so all you do is hang around the cozy villa all day (often topless), the one that he bought just for the two of you, away from the city stress, and wait for him to come back from work.

“did you miss me, doll?” logan asks right after he shuts the front door, taking his suit jacket off. you’re throwing yourself at him already, popping the buttons on his dress shirt open. button by button, you start placing chaste kisses on his abs, making your way down to his pants as you sink down on your knees.

“eager today, are we?” logan looks down at you, smiling at the sight of his favorite little thing down on her knees, unzipping his pants with her teeth. 

“mhm.” you mumble, now too busy with taking his cock out of his boxer briefs.

logan was sure that there was no better way to be greeted after a long and tiresome day. his cock was already at half-mast. just looking at you, so obedient and impatient, made him want to take you right then and there. but he’d let you have your fun, for now.

you spit on logan’s cock, taking your hand and smearing your saliva up and down his length. you start by tracing the vein on his cock with your tongue, looking up at him through your eyelashes. then you place kitten licks on the tip of his cock, where you know he’s most sensitive. logan grabs a handful of your hair and forces your mouth away.

“don’t. tease.” he hisses through his teeth. you apologetically place one last kiss on his girth and get to work, taking his entire length into your mouth. his hold on your hair remains, guiding you and increasing the speed as the warmthness of your mouth edges him towards his orgasm. 

after a while, he stops you in your tracks with a tug of your makeshift ponytail. you whine, wondering why he’s suddenly pulling you away. 

“it’s okay, doll. i know you wanna please daddy.” he speaks with a softer tone, pitying your pathetic expression. your eyes are glossy now and you’re pouting up at him. logan can’t help but get even harder. he picks you up by the waist and throws you over his shoulder, kicking the bedroom door open and setting you down on the bed moments later. you immediately know what you’re supposed to do - so you take your t-shirt off in one swift motion, and wiggle your way out of your shorts and panties.

“cmon, ass up, baby. ‘m getting impatient.” logan says, now completely discarding his dress shirt on the floor and doing the same with his pants and boxer briefs. you follow his command, getting on all fours on the bed. logan grabs the globes of your ass, kneading the fat lovingly. his fingers go to tease at your folds, rubbing up and down to find you soaking wet already. 

“my girl’s always ready for me.” logan points out with a rub to your clit. your ears perk up at the praise and a small smile appears on your face as you wiggle your ass in the air, urging him to hurry up. he chuckles as he grabs his girth, giving it a few strokes before he eases his tip inside you, slowly sinking himself in your pussy. you’re always such a tight fit, like he’s fucking you for the first time, logan thinks to himself. with him getting older, it’s harder to keep up with your needs and impossibly high sex drive, but he tries to make it up to you on most nights, when he’s not too tired.

his thrusts start out slow, as they always do. he goes easy on you when he first enters you because he’s sure the sheer size of his cock is a tad bit painful for you. logan grabs a hold of your hips, picking up the pace as the sounds of his cock thrusting in you fill the room. his balls slap against your ass, your tits jiggling as logan pulls out and slams his cock in your pussy again and again. you moan and pant, back arching as your elbows soon give out from the vigor with which his hips roll against you. you fall face down on the pillows and your hand scrambles as you reach behind your back with a desperate whine. logan gets the hint and intertwines his fingers with yours as your velvety walls clench around him. 

“i’m close.” you moan out, squeezing him harder, chasing that blissful moment of ecstasy. his thrusts don’t falter as his cock hits your g-spot repeatedly, making you whine out in pleasure. 

“i know, doll. i can feel you.”

with a final thrust, you feel yourself cumming around logan’s cock, your pussy pulsating. the feeling of you clenching around him makes his thrusts get sloppier as his own orgasm approaches. 

“you’re so good to me, baby.” logan says, grunting as he empties himself inside you, his warm cum filling your hole. the two of you stay like that for a moment, savoring the irreplaceable feeling of postcoital warmth. he pulls out after a while, his seed dripping out of your cunt. the sight is awfully erotic and you turn around at the feeling, only to see logan put his fingers inside you again. his digits, now covered in not only his cum, but yours, reach for your face. you don’t have to hear him say it to know what he wants. you open your mouth, allowing him to put his fingers inside. your tongue swirls around logan’s fingers, and you suck teasingly as he finally takes them out of your mouth with a “pop”, instead grabbing your face adoringly, rubbing soft circles on your cheekbone as a smile lights up your face.

“we taste really good.” you speak, now turning around to fully face him, knees still on the bed, as his frame towers above you. 

logan grabs your nape and lowers his head down to meet your lips in a sloppy kiss, tongue entering your mouth and completely captivating you. it’s messy, it’s addicting, it’s everything, the feeling and taste of his cum and saliva filling your mouth.

“you’re right, doll.” logan murmurs against your lips, breaking the kiss as a string of drool connects the two of you. 

and in that moment, as he stares into your eyes, slowly caressing the back of your head, logan and you share a thought - “i don’t mind spending the rest of my days like this.”

[punkshort]

'swept away' masterlist

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

Series Summary: Detached, closed off, and hardened by failed relationships (romantic and otherwise), hotel mogul Joel Miller is looking to expand his empire to an exclusive tropical island off the coast of Fiji. The problem is, he's not the only one looking to stake his claim in the tropics. The owner of the island, a family man first and foremost, invites all the bidders to the island for a month long retreat to help him decide which mogul will be crowned the winner. And to make himself look more appealing, Joel hires you to accompany him as his significant other. But it's strictly business... right?

-or-

Big, grumpy sugardaddy!joel falls for you.

Series Warnings: no outbreak au, sugardaddy!joel, language, smut (18+ MDNI), slow burn, references to prostitution, (a little bit) of physical violence towards reader (not Joel), alcohol and food consumption, angst, Joel sucks at feelings, past infidelity mentioned, some daddy talk, implied age gap - chapters will have individual warnings

Status: complete

Chapters:

1: Into the Deep

2: Paradise

3: Go with the Flow

4: Tropical Heat

5: Riptide

6: Undertow

7: Making Waves

8: Line in the Sand

9: Sink or Swim

10: Turn the Tide

Epilogue: Smooth Sailing

Asks/BTS/Extras:

Joel's Likes and Dislikes

Floor Plan of the Villa

Edit by @pvssyfvck3r ❤️

Oops! [between ch. 3 & 4]: what if you walked in on Joel watching porn?

Sway [between ch. 6 & 7]: you and Joel share a dance during dinner

lovely dividers by @saradika-graphics

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Ghost having a non-existent love life due to his past trauma. After much prodding, Soap convinces him to hire an escort to fulfil his needs. Not just any escort, either, but one of his old schoolmates who specializes in "the complete girlfriend package". (She's also plus-sized.)

-

"She's a right classy bird. Chooses her Johns real carefully." Soap admits, leaning against the bar top. He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his Instagram feed. "She's a lil' pricey, but look. She's got a private villa that she'll keep ye in the whole weekend."

Soap swipes through clusters of photos. The villa is beautiful and the interior has a rustic, home-y vibe to it. It doesn't look like a manufactured place, but like someone actually lives there. Ghost is intrigued just by that fact alone. He's never really had a place to stay when on leave. Well, he doesn't count his shithole flat as much of anything.

"She'll cook fer ya too. N' I think she's some type of masseuse?" Soap prattles on, flicking through even more pictures. It seems he was right. In one of the extra bedrooms there's a massage table set up.

"What she look like?"

Soap smiles sheepishly.

"She's not the type of bird I've seen you go for in the past." He admits before pulling up a folder of pictures on his phone. "But she's bonnie, Lt. A right knockout, I swear."

He scrolls towards the bottom of the folder, looking for a more recent picture. Ghost notices the the skin colored thumbnails as they pass by in a flurry. He already knew, didn't really care, but decides to press on it for his own amusement.

"You one of her Johns?"

Soap nearly chokes. He stops scrolling and looks up at Ghost.

"Well, um...yeah." He admits. Ghost taps on one of the juicy thumbnails. It opens the video. Despite himself, Soap blushes.

Neither man say anything else for a minute. They quietly watch the screen as a pretty cunt is being stretched out by a cock they both know the owner of. She's wet and dripping and glistening in the phone's flash. Her cunt is visibly softer, rounder, with thick outer lips and even cushier looking inner thighs.

Ghost is instantly intrigued by the sight of this woman's body. He'd always found himself in situations with toned or muscular women. He never thought much of it at the time. Ghost was rarely around civilians, and even then he never frequented places a soft girl like her would be seen. Now, in the rec-room, watching a video of Johnny fucking open this girl he realizes he's been going about things all wrong.

Johnny's not being very nice to the girl in the video either. Its apparent he's putting his whole weight and stamina into his thrusts. Ghost couldn't remember ever fucking a woman like that. He'd always had to go slow, angle himself just right to avoid hurting himself or his lovers. A tinge of jealousy shoots up his spine when he notices how the soft pudge of her thighs cushions Johnny's much sharper hipbones.

"Hm..."

"You like 'er?" Johnny asks. "She told me she's looking for 'new clients' if yer interested."

Ghost taps through even more of the photos and videos. They're mostly of her pretty cunt being fucked out but there's a few of her looking cute and relaxed in lingerie or nothing at all. She's got a decent face. Better tits though. Ghost doesn't think he's ever seen a set that fucking soft or suckable.

The last video in the folder is of her bare ass. She looks over her shoulder, smiles flirtatiously, then proceeds to shake her body in a way that makes her ass bounce rigorously. Johnny's hand comes into frame. He grips roughly at one of her cheeks and spreads her apart. A thick glob of cum spills from her slightly gaping, inner lips. The video ends.

Ghost raises his brow at Soap.

"She lets you cum in 'er?"

"Ya know I don't like rubbers, Lt. Can't stand the wee fucks." Soap laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I jes' get a copy of my physical from the doc. Send it over t' her 'fore I drop by."

Ghost huffs.

"Here, lemme give you 'er number."

Ghost doesn't try to stop him when Soap fishes his hand into his jacket pocket. He already knows the security code.

"I'll let 'er know yer a friend 'o mine. 'F I vouch for you she'll take ya in no problem." He nods. "I think you're gonnae thank me after all this s' said n' done, Lt."

For good measure Soap texts her a simple greeting from Ghost's phone. She replies within a few seconds. Ghost's eyes glint at the little notification flash.

"We'll see..."

[motorsportbarbie13]

The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Wedding Night

In which you and Max spend your first night together as newlyweds.

Warnings: smut. this is all smut, minimal plot. talk of babies, breeding kink, birth control, lots of 'my wife' and 'my husband' use. i'm feral tbh Pairing: Max Verstappen x Podcaster!Reader Word Count: 2.6k

- The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 2 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 3 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Part 4 - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - Bonus Sessions - The Yapping Hour is Upon Us - The Royal Wedding - Master List

“Let’s get you out of this dress. I want to see what’s been under it all day.” Max whispers against your shoulder later that night when you’re alone in the villa. His fingers trail up your bare arm, igniting sparks of heat in their wake.  

You take Max’s hand, leading him towards the bedroom of your sprawling villa, eyes dark with need. As you walk, you let one of the thin straps fall away before slipping out of the second one. “I need help with the zipper, Max.” You say, voice a husky whisper in the quiet room. 

Behind you, Max is looking at you like he wants to eat you alive, the hunger in his eyes near feral. He reaches for the back of your dress without any more prompting, shaking hands dragging the zipper down painfully slow. Reaching up, you tug the bun out of your hair, enjoying the sound that Max makes when your hair tumbles down over your shoulders in a cascade of waves. 

Your wedding dress pools at your feet, a pile of lace and satin that you step out of, making your way towards the bed. Max just stands there, watching you go, hungry look on his face. 

Outside, the sun has fully disappeared below the horizon, leaving the villa bathed in the golden yellow glow of the interior lights. The salty air flutters through the open back doors, the crash of the ocean creating a soft soundtrack to your first night as a married couple. 

You crawl onto the bed wearing only the white bits of lace lingerie that you’d bought specifically for tonight and when you turn back to face Max, you’re struck by the look of sheer lust on your husband’s face. Husband. You still were getting used to working your tongue around that word. It was wild, how strange but natural the word felt falling from your lips. 

“Are you going to leave me here alone, husband?” Gazing up at Max through thick lashes, you smirk before catching your bottom lip between your teeth. 

Max seems to snap into action then, stalking towards you as he unbuttons his linen shirt that suddenly feels to constricting. “Open those legs for me, lifeje. I want to see how good my wife tastes.” 

A thrill zings through you at being called his wife and you can’t help the whimper that leaves your lips in response. 

Max joins you on the bed, kneeling before you between your open legs. He bites his lip as he reaches down to slip his fingers under the band of the bits of lace that covers you. “So pretty.” He murmurs before he shifts his weight forward, leaning in for a kiss. 

“Max.” You sigh against his lips when he kisses you, whining a bit when he licks into your mouth. 

“Yes, wife?” He mumbles, mouth not daring to leave yours as his fingers dip beneath the fabric at your hips. He chuckles darkly when his fingers reach their destination, finding you soaking wet for him already. 

You arch against him, pleasure already burning deep in your core at just his touch. “Can’t believe I’m your wife.” 

“Fuck, that sounds so good.” The rasp of his voice sends goosebumps skittering down your spine, despite the room being warm from the day’s sun and heat. “I’m so lucky you chose me to be your husband, schatje. Let me show you how lucky I am.” 

“Please.” You beg against him, hips rocking up against his body in an attempt to get some relief from the aching need that has been thrumming inside you since you said your vows earlier in the evening. 

“Lay back and let your husband do all the work tonight, okay love? Can you do that for me?” Max trails open mouthed kisses down the column of your neck, stopping to suck little reminders of your wedding night into your skin so you remember tonight for days to come. 

“Anything for you, baby.” You manage, the sensations of Max’s lips on your skin and fingers working over your clit almost too much to take already. 

He trails more kisses down your body, sucking purple bruises into your skin as he makes his way to his destination, enjoying your sharp intake of breath every time he nips at you. “You like watching me with my head between her thighs, don’t you?” He asks when his head dips between your legs, hands finally pulling off the lace covering your pussy. 

The pleasure of having his hands and mouth on your body sends the buzzing in your head to another level, so loud you can’t focus on anything beyond Max’s touch and voice. You idly wonder if it’s possible to come from just hearing Max call you his wife over and over. It’s an experiment you’re willing to run. 

When his tongue splits you open for him for the first time, your hips snap up off the bed in a needy reaction. He slings one of his arms over your hips, pinning you to the down comforter. Your hands sift through his thick hair, tugging on it when he dives in. Long, languid licks lap up the mess you’ve already made for him and the way Max works you over with his mouth nearly sends you into another universe. 

“I can’t believe I get to eat you out for the rest of my fucking life.” He muses, barely coming up for air.  The only response you can muster in your haze of lust is a choked sound of surrender, a sigh of relief when his tongue finally presses against your clit for the first time. “Oh, my good girl. My pretty little wife. Do you like that?” 

“Yes.” You hiss, back arching even more into his waiting mouth. 

Stars explode behind your eyelids when he pulls your clit between his teeth, the sharp bite drawing the most erotic moan that Max has ever heard out of you. From his spot between your legs, Max slips first one and then two fingers into your wet little cunt as you continue your grind against his mouth. “That’s it, use me to get yourself off.” His voice is muffled by his refusal to remove his head from between your legs but you hear him well enough. 

You feel that telltale sign of liquid fire pouring down your spine as Max works you over with both his mouth and fingers. Your entire consciousness eddies down to this one single place, all that matters is that Max never stops and you never have to go another day without his mouth on you or fingers inside you. “Don’t stop.” You beg, blindly reaching for anything to hold onto, eventually landing one hand in his hair and the other fisting the white sheets beneath you. “I love you so much baby, fuck. Holy fuck.” You sob, hips grinding up into his mouth in a desperate search for relief. 

You tumble over the crest of your orgasm so quickly it hits you like a freight train, your hands fisting Max’s hair so tightly the pain mixes with his pleasure delightfully. His name tumbles out of your mouth so quickly it’s unintelligible babble. All Max does is hold his tongue against your clit and fingers deep inside you as you spasm against him. “That’s it, baby. Look at my sweet wife coming all over me. You look so pretty coming around my fingers, schatje.” 

He talks you through the rest of your orgasm until you’re quiet beneath him, breath coming in short spurts as you try to recover. “Max.” Seems to be the only word you can find in your vocabulary, which suits your husband just fine. If that’s the only word you can say, he’s glad it’s his name and nothing else. 

Max crawls up your body when your climax finally subsides, face glistening with your slick mess. He licks his lips, all swollen and red after licking you so good. You look so effortlessly gorgeous beneath him, he has to take a moment before he do anything else. 

“I have another present for you.” You whisper when you regain the ability to speak. 

Max cocks a brow at you. “I thought we weren’t doing any more gifts, little miss ‘I hate when you spoil me’.” He teases, biting at your neck. 

You roll your eyes while lifting your hands to frame his face. “Remember when I went to see the doctor a last week?” 

Max nods, remembering how you came home in a significant amount of pain afterwards. You had refused to give you any details behind the appointment though, just saying that you were due to get your period soon and it was all hormones. “Yeah, and I’m still annoyed you wouldn’t tell me why you went.” 

“I had my IUD removed.” You murmur, eyes searching his for his immediate reaction. 

“You…what?” Max’s heart stalls as he draws back to get a better look at your face. 

This had been a topic of discussion between you two before, of course. Trying to decide if and when to start a family was a huge decision and both you and Max had decided that you wanted to start trying sooner rather than later ages ago but this? This was a complete surprise. 

You worry at your lip, wondering if you went too far without consulting him. “I had my doctor take out my IUD.” 

Something feral and animalistic snaps in Max at the thought of tonight being the night he finally puts a baby in you. If he had had his way, you’d be round with his baby ages ago but you had insisted on wanting to do it the ‘right’ way by waiting until after you had been married for a bit before even trying. “That is the best wedding present you could have ever gotten me, schat.” 

Relief washes over you in waves when his words register. “Yeah?” 

Max grabs at your hips, tugging  you closer to him before kissing you with an intensity that sends your head spinning.

“Now, turn over.” You do as he orders, a shiver of anticipation shooting up through your spine. “Ass up. Yeah, just like that baby. Ass in the air so I can fuck a baby deep into you.” He growls. 

If removing your IUD was all that it took to get Max to absolutely manhandle you like this, you would have gotten it removed sooner, you decide as he gives your bare ass a few short slaps while you wriggle back against him. Max pumps his aching cock with his hand a few times as you prop yourself up on your elbows. 

“You look so pretty like this, just waiting for me to take you from behind. You like this don’t you? Want me to fill you up, baby?” He leans forward, whispering the filthy words in your ear, causing you to whimper in response. 

You should be embarrassed by the needy, high pitched whine that tumbles from your throat when the tip of his cock finds your aching entrance, anticipation twisting deep in your stomach. Max latches onto your hips with both hands, letting out a guttural moan when he sinks into you, the slick wetness from your cunt practically swallowing him whole. “Fuck.” He shudders, fingertips digging bruises into your hips. 

For a few moments, Max has to steady himself or this entire thing is going to be over in 2 strokes. The blinding tightness of your pussy distracts him from all other sensation and thought as he focuses on how warm you are around him. You struggle against his size, the stretch from him filling you up burning in the most satisfying way possible. From his position behind you, Max is able to hit that spot deep inside your walls that sends all coherent thought out of your head. “Max.” You whine, wiggling your hips back and forth in a desperate plea for movement. “Max, please. Please fuck me.” 

“Fuck I love it when you beg for my cock.” He grunts while pulling out of you before thrusting deeper again. Max’s eyes drop down to where you’re joined together in the most intimate way and the sight he sees nearly sends him over the edge. “We look so good together, shatje. Look so good gripping me like that.” 

Max slides in and out of you, hands gripping your hips to control the pace as he settles into filling you up over and over. 

You pant beneath him, back arching up in sheer bliss as you push your ass back against him so he’s forced to plunge even deeper inside you. “God, you’re so deep Max. So big, filling me up.” 

“My wife likes being all messy for me, doesn’t she? Wants me to fuck a baby into her the first night we’re married, huh?” 

Just the thought of you walking around, belly swollen with his baby has Max’s hips snapping even quicker against you. For several moments the sounds of wet flesh slapping against flesh fills the room, interrupted only by your needy moans and Max’s grunts. He desperately ruts into you as he leans forward, draping his large frame over yours. Max wraps his fist around your long hair, creating a ponytail with his hands and yanks so hard your vision blurs from the delicious blur of pleasure colliding with pain. 

White hot heat pours down Max’s spine and he knows he’s not going to last much longer like this. The way your silky soft hair wraps around his calloused hands, the sounds that you’re making under him, the scent of your arousal wafting through the air, all of those sensations combine to create an overwhelming sensory overload. 

“Oh my God. Max. Cum in me, please.” You beg, sending your husband hurtling even closer the edge of his own release as he feels you spasm around him, velvet vice like grip clamping down on his cock. “Fuck a baby into me, please, Max.” You’re babbling now, a melty mess of need and desire to feel your husband’s cum dripping down your thigh. 

Something fractures in Max at how utterly fucked out you sound and everything goes white behind his shuttered eyes. The moan that rumbles through him sends you over the edge for a third time that night and you’re so exhausted and overstimulated having not nearly enough time to recover from the second one Max fucked you to. When he spills into you, the white hot ropes coating your walls, you let you the neediest whimpers of the night. The way he feels buried deep inside you combined with the open mouthed kisses he’s showering on your back and shoulders sends you off into an exhausted space that you hope you never return from. 

With Max done and still draped over you, body heavy on top of yours, your elbows finally give out and you collapse into the mattress, body sprawling beneath Max’s. Neither of you can move for several moments, the heat of what just happened has exhaustion seeping into your bones. 

The catastrophic emptiness that you feel when Max does pull out of you has you near tears it’s so unnerving. When you flip over, tired sighs falling from your lips, Max immediately pulls you into him, fingers dancing down between your legs. You jolt when he stuffs three of his fingers into your overly sensitive pussy. “Don’t want any of that to go to waste, now do we.” He chuckles as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. 

A sore sort of pleasant exhaustion takes over your body as you wriggle back against the warmth of your husband’s body. “I love you.” You sigh, eyes drooping heavily as Max reaches behind him to switch the bedside light off, plunging the entire bedroom into darkness. 

“I love you too, wife. Always.” Max’s response is the last thing you hear before drifting off into a deep fucked out sleep that has you passed out until late the next morning. 

tags: @shelbyteller @formulaal @martygraciesversion381 @samantha-chicago @chlmtfilms