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leclerqueensainz · 1 year

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A Family of Three (C.L 16) - Part.I- Discoveries, Reunions, and Surprises

Paring: Charles Leclerc X OC!Marie Anderson

Synopsis: Charles and Marie ended any chance of a relationship years ago. They just didn't expect to have to share custody of a child after the death of their best friend.

⚠️ Warnings: Mention of death and murder, swearing, Charles being a little aggressive in his reactions, mention of sex and drug use. (This chapter may contain triggers!) (+16)

**In this story, Jules Bianchi died in 2019, not 2015, which changes some facts in the careers of the drivers.

A.N: Hello! How are you doing? After a long time, I finally brought Part 1 translated into English! Remembering that English is not my first language, so there may be some mistakes! I tried my best!

Feedback is always welcome. Let me know if you liked it!

Word Count: 7.882

Read the prologue here!

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January 15th, 2023 - Milan, Italy

"Good morning, Marcella!" I greet my secretary as I enter the office. "Any news for me?" I ask the blonde girl who is sitting with her eyes fixed on the computer in front of her.

"Good morning, Marie! And...HA! I did it!" Marcella suddenly jumps, startling me. "I'm sorry! It's just that I managed to schedule the meeting with Fred Lacroix for next week." She says, trying to compose herself, and I smile."

"That's great! You're amazing," I say, leaning over next to her at the table and taking a peek at her computer. "Do you think he'll be in a good mood? He's not exactly known for being pleasant when it comes to selling and buying his art," I ask and Marcella just shrugs.

"I don't know, and honestly, I don't worry about it," she says, and I can see a smug smile spread across her face. "Either way, we're awesome! We always get what we want," she finishes, and I laugh at her enthusiasm.

I agree with Marcella. We are awesome and always get what we want when it comes to work.

After Jules died, I moved from Monaco to Italy. I felt like I needed to leave it all behind, even if it meant burying a part of who I was with my past. I needed a fresh start, and I closed my eyes to my old life. I had nothing left in Monaco. Nothing held me back or was even worth staying for.

I needed time and a new life, and that's exactly what I found when I came to Italy, where I was able to enroll in arts just in time to continue the school year. And a year and a half later, I graduated and started interning at one of the best galleries in Milan. Shortly after that, I realized I had a lot of potential for curating and dedicated myself to the field, of which today I am still a part, with the highest success rate in recruiting and selling new artists.

Today, I can say that my life is more than comfortable, and I spend so much of my day occupied with work that I hardly have time to think about everything I left behind a few years ago.

"Ah!" Marcella screams and catches me off guard, making me take a few steps back.

"Oh my god, Marcella! You're going to kill me, girl!" I say and put my hand on my chest, feeling my heart skipping like crazy.

"Sorry! I just remembered you got a letter this morning," she says, and I swear my confusion is written all over my face. "I mean, you didn't really get it, it's more like 'they passed the envelope under the door while we were closed, and I stepped on it when I got here'," she says and pulls out a crumpled white envelope with a half footprint on it. "I tried to clean it up, but as you can see, it didn't go very well. Seriously, someone should clean the streets of Milan more," she says and hands me the envelope.

I examine the envelope to find the sender, but I only find "Marie Anderson" written in delicate handwriting.

"There's no sender. That's strange." I say and Marcella nods.

"I thought it was kind of creepy too. I mean, who still sends letters In 2023? Isn't it easier to send a message on Insta? Or like, an email?" I nod my head and shrug.

"Well, let it be," I say and start walking towards my office. "Please let anyone who wants to speak to me know to leave a message. And that includes my mom, okay?" I say and Marcella nods. "Great, thanks," I say, entering my office and closing the door behind me.

I throw my bag on the desk and sit in my chair. I analyze the envelope in my hand again and for a moment, I feel a strange sensation as I stare at it.

"Okay, let's end the suspense, Marie," I say to myself and I grab a staple remover from the pencil holder, passing it over the glued part of the envelope.

Opening the envelope, I take out a sheet of paper with the same handwriting as the envelope, and two photos of a little boy with dark hair and eyes who I swear I've never seen before, but who somehow seems very familiar to me. I turn over the photos to see if there's anything written on the back.

"Vincenzo. 24/12/2021"

Was written in one of the photos. The little boy was sitting next to what looked like a Christmas tree. I took a look at the next photograph, where the same boy, who seemed a bit older, was sitting on a mat surrounded by toys. "Vincenzo. 19/12/2022."

Feeling even more confused and with a strange sensation spreading through my chest, I picked up the letter I had left aside on the table and began to read it.

France, January 2nd, 2023.

Marie,

I can't even begin to tell you how many times I've thought about how I would write to you. You don't know me, and to be honest, I don't think anyone in his circle of friends and family has even heard of me.

My name is Cecilia, and that's all you need to know about me right now, aside from what I'm about to write to you next: I was engaged to Jules Bianchi.

I know this is strange and perhaps even unbelievable, but it's true. Jules and I had a brief but passionate love story. I loved Jules, and I can say that he loved me too.

Two days before his death, I found out that I was pregnant. I gave birth to Vincenzo on December 24th, 2019. He was a healthy and strong little boy, very similar to Jules.

I loved him from the moment I found out he was growing inside me. The result of something so pure and beautiful, from my relationship with Jules.

I know it's a lot for you to process right now, but so that you can know that I'm telling you the truth, there are two photos of Vincenzo. I want you to look at them and see Jules, just as I do every time I look at my son.

"I've been wanting to write to you for a long time. Jules saw you as a sister. I'm sorry I hid this from you and his family too, but I was so afraid. Afraid of rejection, of being seen as a liar. I couldn't go through any of that. I only had Jules, and after he left me, there was no one else I could trust, so I've been raising Vincenzo alone until now, but I don't think I can do it anymore. Vincenzo has a family besides me. And I need him to grow up knowing that he is loved.

I promise I to explain everything you need to know. Please meet me at the café where you used to meet every time you came together to Nice. January 18th at 4 pm.

- Cecilia.

My hands tremble as I put the letter back on the table.

What the hell is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?

I take the two photos back in my hands and stare at them, now realizing why I found that boy so familiar. It was Jules. That boy is the spitting image of Jules.

But how is this even possible? Why didn't Jules tell us he had someone? That's not like him. Jules was always an open book to us. He told us everything, just as we did with him. He wouldn't hide this from us...would he?

With my head swimming with questions and my heart heavy as lead, I found myself shouting Marcella's name, and less than a minute later, her short locks appeared through the door.

My hands tremble as I put the letter back on the table.

What the hell is this? Is this some kind of sick joke?

I take the two photos back in my hands and stare at them, now realizing why I found that boy so familiar. It was Jules. That boy is the spitting image of Jules.

With my head swimming with questions and my heart heavy as lead, I found myself shouting Marcella's name, and less than a minute later, her short locks appeared through the door.

"Yes?" She asks before looking at me for a moment and entering my office complete with a worried expression. "Are you okay, Marie?" She says kneeling by my side.

"Book a flight for tomorrow morning. I need to go to France."

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January 18th, 2023. - Nice, France.

I stare again at the clock hanging on the wall above the counter of the small café. 3:45 PM.

15 minutes. Just 15 minutes until I could find out who Cecilia was and why she decided to contact me now, after all this time. And why me? Yes, Jules, Charles, and I were always very close despite the age difference. But why reach out to me? If she intended to introduce the boy to Jules' family, why didn't she contact Christine or Philippe?

I hadn't seen Jules' family in a long time, we didn't even exchange messages. I left them behind when I decided to move on to Italy. They were buried with my past in Monaco.

The bell on the entrance door rings, indicating that someone has entered the premises. My head quickly snaps toward the sound.

And it's like in one minute, everything I struggled so hard to forget and leave behind comes back with force and without control like waves of a tsunami.

Standing just a few meters away from where I'm sitting, my gaze meets Charles'.

Charles. My ex-boyfriend whom I haven't seen in almost four years. The part that hurts the most from my past, besides the death of Jules.

He looks different. So different from the last time I saw him at Jules' funeral. This time he's not dressed in mourning black, no. He's wearing casual clothes, dark jeans, and a moss green sweater with the word "FERRARI" stamped in black. There's a scruffy beard on his face and his eyes...damn. The eyes that last time reflected so much hopelessness were now more alive, but still with certain traces of concern.

Charles walks up to where I'm sitting, his steps quick and wide as if he wanted to corner me before I could escape again. He stops half a meter away, and his gaze curiously roams over me. His expression is stern but also covered in doubt. I bet that, like me, he wants to understand why I'm here.

"Charles..." I'm the first to say, my voice low and uncertain. He nods slowly, his gaze still fixed on me, as if he wants to uncover all the secrets I gained during the years we were apart.

“What are you doing here, Marie?" he asks, direct and determined, without any hesitation. It's a tone I would have never expected to hear from the Charles I left four years ago. Yes, he really has changed.

I wished I could answer him with the same intensity, but honestly, I don't think I could. There's so much going on here and my head is spinning with so many questions and emotions. Why is Charles here? What the hell is going on? Did he set all this up?

"Is this some kind of joke? Because if it is, I swear to God it's not funny," he says, his tone now rough.

I sit there staring at him, completely confused.

Charles runs his hand through his hair, messing up his brown locks even more. He sighs heavily and closes his eyes, his tongue quickly passing over his lower lip. He used to do that all the time when he felt anger or frustration. At least that hasn't changed.

"What are you doing here, Charles?" I ask, and he opens his eyes, once again staring at me.

Charles's hand reaches into his back pocket and pulls out an envelope identical to the one that was left for me in the office in Italy. The difference is that I can see that this one was addressed to Charles, only his name, and also without a sender.

"Please tell me it wasn't you, Marie," he says as his eyes shift from the envelope to my face. I look at him with all the sincerity I can muster and answer, "No, it wasn't me." He nods his head, his expression softening a bit. He moves and sits in the vacant chair in front of me, his hands going up to his face to rub it.

"Jules has a son," he says.

"I know," I reply.

"Charles lowers his hands and stares at me once again, confusion etched on his face. Before he can say anything, I reach into my bag on the table, open it, and take out the white envelope. Charles looks at my hand for a moment before reaching over the table to take the envelope from me."

"You got one too," he says, not looking at me, even though it's not a question, I nod my head in agreement.

"It seems she arranged to meet with both of us. I think it's easier if we hear the story at the same time, that way there's no risk of getting the wrong versions," I say, and his gaze shifts from the envelopes on the table to me.

"Do you think it's a lie? That the boy isn't Jules's son?" he asks seriously, and I just shrug in response.

"I believe it could be Jules's son. I just don't know why she waited all this time and why she chose us. Obviously, we're not the best people to show Vincenzo that he has a family on his father's side," I say, and I see Charles's jaw tighten.

"We were friends with Jules. He trusted us," he says, once again his voice sounding rough.

"It seems he didn't trust us enough to tell us he fell in love," I say, and immediately regret it.

I look at Charles and if we were part of a cartoon, he would have flames in his eyes.

“You don't know what happened. You don't know his reasons, just like me,” he says through gritted teeth. “Don't doubt his motives. Not when he's not here to defend himself.”

In all the years I've spent by Charles' side, I've never seen him so angry. And if I didn't know him, I'd be scared.

But do you still know him? I silently ask myself.

"That's not what I meant," I defensively reply. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean for it to come out that way. Of course, Jules had reasons and we'll find out when Cecilia arrives." Charles relaxes his jaw and adjusts in his seat.

I look at the clock on the wall again. 4:10 PM. She's late. I look at Charles, a little anxious.

"Do you think she's coming?" he shrugs, but his hand goes into his hoodie pocket and pulls out a cell phone.

"She's late," he states what I already know. "But I think so, she's coming." Charles carelessly tosses the phone onto the table, his anxious fingers fidgeting with his rings.

"Congratulations on the runner-up, by the way," I say, trying to ease both of our anxieties, and he looks back at me.

"Did you follow the races?" he asked, a little surprised.

"Yes," I admit, somewhat embarrassed. "My secretary is a huge Formula 1 fan," I add, which is not a lie.

Like all Italians, Marcella is a devoted Tifosi. And even though I wanted to leave everything I knew behind, I couldn't escape one of the most beloved sports in Europe, especially in Italy, the home of Ferrari.

Charles lets out a low laugh, his look adopting the expression of a mischievous boy. Oh no.

"Your secretary, huh?" he says with a teasing and suggestive tone.

"Ah, shut up, Leclerc!" I say, trying to sound serious but failing when I let out a laugh. "I'm serious! My secretary is a diehard Tifosi. She can't shut up for a minute about Ferrari and makes me watch all the races," I say, shrugging.

"Yeah, yeah... And I bet I'm your 'secretary's' favorite driver, right?" he says, making air quotes with his fingers and having a smug smile on his face.

"Actually, she prefers Sainz," I say, and instantly his smile turns into a serious expression, which makes me laugh.

Soon, Charles' dimples appear on his cheek and my heart skips a beat at the sound of his typically somewhat flawed and exaggerated laugh. Oh, how I enjoyed hearing that horrible but at the same time very cute laugh again.

At that moment, even though I hated to admit it, I realized how much I missed that feeling of familiarity and lightness. And even though just a few minutes ago, I was doubting whether I still knew the person that Charles had become, I could see that regardless of the years and tragedies that life had subjected him to from a young age, that kind and playful boy that I had once fallen in love with was still there. And maybe he would never leave. And I liked that.

Looking at Charles smiling, sitting in front of me, I wonder for just a second if it would have been different if I hadn't left. But as soon as the thought came, I pushed it away. Because even though I was happy to know that Charles still had something familiar to me inside him, we were not meant to be even before Jules' death. And I doubt that we could have maintained a good relationship with all the pain and mourning that surrounded us. I made a good choice. Yes, I did the right thing.

Leaving Monaco was one of the hardest things I had to face. But it made me grow and become a strong woman. I learned to deal with loss, even if it may not be the healthiest way, it still worked for me. I was able to finish college, got the job I wanted, and met new people. I fell in love, and even though I didn't love them like I loved Charles, I still allowed myself to feel and try happiness. Clearly, it didn't work out, but the experience was worth it.

And I can also say that Charles has achieved what he wanted, or almost everything. He is one of the best Formula 1 drivers and drives for Ferrari, which is almost every motorsport athlete's dream. He has a successful career and is known worldwide for it. And even though he didn't get the title he so desperately craved last year, he may get it this year. He is focused, grateful, and kind. The golden boy. Il Predestinato.

Even though Charles is so young, he has given his family and friends everything they ever dreamed of. Pascale must be so proud of him, and if Harvé were still alive, I'm sure he would also be proud of the son he raised. And Jules would also be proud to see Charles' progress.

And then the emptiness appears again. Jules. I try my best not to think about him. The memories are still painful even after all these years.

I think I let my thoughts reflect too much because Charles, who was laughing before, now looks at me with a compassionate expression. He probably thought of Jules too.

"I miss him too," he says and I nod my head. "And I missed you too," his hand meets mine on the table.

There were no ulterior motives. Just a gesture. A gesture to affirm what he was saying. And it hurt. It hurt in my heart and soul.

I quickly withdraw my hand from his and stare at the table. Charles withdraws his hands and keeps them close to his body.

"I know you didn't owe me anything, Marie. No explanations, not loyalty," he starts, his voice a little broken, making my heart tighten. "But Jules died and you left. Why did you leave?" he asks, and I can hear the hurt in his voice.

I wished I had the strength to lift my gaze and tell him while looking him in the eyes that everything I did was out of fear and thinking that there was nothing left for me in Monaco. That I still loved him even after he broke up with me and that losing Jules to death destroyed me, but knowing that I would lose Charles while he was still alive would only ruin me even more. I couldn't see him every day and know that he no longer belonged to me. And that every minute I spent mourning and heartbroken without him reminded me that love was impossible for me. That I didn't deserve to be loved. That there would never be anyone to love me.

"I had to go," I say, still staring at my hands. "I don't expect you to understand or forgive me. Because I'm not asking for any of that, Charles," my voice sounds firm but my eyes burn.

I take a deep breath and hold it for a few seconds before releasing it. I raise my gaze to meet his when I'm sure the tears won't fall.

"I had to make a choice and I did. I chose myself," I say simply, perhaps trying to convince myself.

Charles nods his head and goes back to fiddling with the rings on his fingers. This time it was difficult for him to look at me.

"I'm happy to see who you've become, Marie. And I hope you've achieved what you wanted when..." he pauses for a second, unsure of what to say, "when you left Monaco." A tired laugh escapes his lips. "I'm not going to judge you, especially since when you left, we were no longer a couple. But I was an idiot to think that we were still friends." He looks back at me. "I was foolish until I realized that there would be no possibility for us without Jules being here."

I wanted to scream. I wanted to stand up and throw everything in front of me at him. I wanted to curse at him and tell him that he didn't have that right. But to be fair, I could never do that. Not when I left, when it was me who left what was left of the three of us. Jules had died and I had fled. When I left, I didn't think of Charles or his feelings. I only thought of myself and how I could never live with that.

I don't regret it. I did what I thought was necessary and would do it again. Charles might have needed me, but I needed to leave and heal. And that's what I did. Charles still had friends and family to rely on, and I had no one. No present family, no friends, and no boyfriend. Charles and I both mourned, of course, but we mourned in different ways. He had lost a friend, and I had lost everything.

There was no one to come home to and hug. There was no one there to tell me that they were sorry for my loss and that everything would be okay. So I went after what I thought I needed and I got it. I went in search of myself, a new life, new choices, and opportunities, and I found them. I found myself. Of course, I let go of a lot, and the void left by Jules and Charles was never filled, but I learned to cope and use it to my advantage for other things, and that was enough, at least for now.

Before I could respond to him, I'm interrupted once again by the sound of the damn doorbell.

Charles and I turned our attention to the door at the same time. Both of us were staring at a slim blonde woman, wearing a green coat and leggings. But what caught our attention the most was the little boy in her arms. He was about 3 or 4 years old, with dark hair, lying with his face hidden in the woman's neck, and his small hand clutching onto her collar as if he were afraid she would leave if he let go.

Charles and I stood up in rehearsed gestures, all at the same time. He stopped beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder, covered by my own coat this time. The woman looked at us and came slowly towards us. When she got closer and stopped about a meter away from us, I could analyze her.

Her face was thin and perfectly symmetrical, and even though it seemed like she hadn't slept in days, her tired eyes were a beautiful shade of greenish-brown. She is very beautiful. Her lips opened in a small smile, and there I could see that she easily fit Jules' type.

"I assume you are Charles and Marie, right?" She says, her voice sweet and tired.

My gaze moves from her to the little boy in her arms, and then they cross with Charles'. He tells me through his eyes the same things I am thinking. We return our attention to the blonde in front of us and nod.

"Great!" She clears her throat before continuing, "I'm Cecilia, and this little guy here is Vincenzo." She gently shakes the child, who tightens his grip on her coat collar even more. "Jules' son."

Charles' grip on my shoulder becomes stronger, and I swallow hard. I can't take my eyes off the little boy, and now up close, I can see his profile. His chubby childlike cheek and long eyelashes, just like Jules'.

Cecilia shifts uncomfortably, her feet shifting the weight from one to the other, and she adjusts Vincenzo's position in her lap.

"I know you must have thousands of questions, and I promise I will answer them all. But before that, would you mind if I sit down? Vincenzo is a bit heavy, and I walked here with him in my arms," she says, embarrassed.

"Of course not. Please," Charles approaches her and pulls the chair he was sitting in a few minutes ago. Cecilia sits down, careful not to make any sudden movements and wake Vincenzo.

Charles points to the empty chair, and I sit down. He takes a few steps hto the table next to us and takes an unoccupied chair to sit on. Once the three of us are seated around the table, Charles calls the waitress, whom I only now notice has been staring at us this whole time. The redheaded and smiling girl, who probably can't be more than 19 years old, approaches with her gaze fixed on Charles- she probably recognized him.

Charles is the one who orders. A cappuccino for me- which causes a sensation in my stomach that he still remembers- an iced tea for himself, and he asks Cecilia what she would like to drink, to which she responds that coffee would be enough. The redhead writes down the orders and asks for permission to leave. Her eyes still glued to Charles.

I roll my eyes internally, but I know I can't blame her. After all, it's probably not every day that she serves a public figure. When we used to come here with Jules, the employees were different, and the small café is located on a somewhat isolated street in Nice, so it's unlikely that many famous people come here.

I take my gaze off the waitress and turn back to Cecilia, who was already looking at me attentively with a small smile on her lips.

"Well..." Charles begins. "Why are we here, Cecilia? Why only now have you contacted us?" He leans forward a little more, his arms resting on the wooden table.

Cecilia shifts in her chair carefully and her eyes briefly glance at Vincenzo before turning back to us.

"I wanted you to meet Vincenzo. While he was alive, Jules always mentioned you as part of his family. He loved you both very much," she says, and I feel my chest tightening.

"But why only now?" I speak for the first time. "I know you wrote in the letter that you were afraid, but it still sounds strange that you would come looking for us now, without any reason," I say, trying to keep my voice steady.

Cecilia falls silent for a few seconds as if she wants to formulate the next words carefully.

"There's a reason," she confirms. "Look, I know it's strange, and I assure you that I'm not looking for any money or anything like that." Her gaze shifts from me to Charles, as if she wants to confirm the latter part specifically for him. "Jules and I met about six months before he died, and it was love at first sight."

"He never told us about you," Charles responds cutting her off and she nods.

"I know he didn't. I asked him not to," she says and Charles and I exchange confused looks before turning our attention back to her.

"What do you mean? Why would you ask him not to?" I ask, finding it all very odd.

"When I met Jules, I was in a complicated time in my life," she answers and I see her face darken. "I was only 19 and had run away from Italy." Her voice trembles as if it's hard for her to mention those times again.

I wish I could tell her that she didn't need to tell us if she wasn't feeling comfortable, but the truth was that it was really necessary. After all, that's what Charles and I are here for.

Charles nodded for her to continue and I could feel his tension.

"I got involved with the wrong people in Italy," she continues. "There was a boy I had been in love with during my teenage years, Paolo was his name. We were very young and stupid, you know?" Cecília laughs and her eyes fill with tears. "Like every teenager, we thought we were invincible, but we weren't. When I was 17, I spent most of my time at parties and clubs with him. We drank and did drugs, and everything was fun and happy until it wasn't anymore. Over time, the drinking and drugs stopped being just for parties and began to become necessary for anything. From being able to concentrate on studies, to being able to get out of bed. My parents assumed that Paolo was to blame for my addiction and banned me from seeing him. I obviously went against them and they made me choose between a life with them or my ruin with Paolo. I, being young and foolish, chose love and abandoned my parents without looking back. I left the life I had to chase adventures with Paolo and he did the same, running away from home. But the thing is, we were two addicted people without a home and money. There was no more money from our parents, so we started doing whatever we could. Small thefts and even..." She stops for a moment, thick tears streaming down her face.

"Here." Charles extends a napkin and she takes it, wiping her face immediately after.

"Thank you," she says and he offers her a half-smile. "Even prostitution," she continues, and I feel my stomach churn. It wasn't disgust, but rather a pity for imagining someone in that situation. Beside me, I could see that Charles was equally uncomfortable. It was hard for him to put himself in her place.

Charles grew up with great parents who did everything for their children, and even though they weren't millionaires at the time, they still managed to have and offer a comfortable life for them. And I bet that if any of the three, Charles, Lorenzo, or Arthur, had gone the wrong way, Pascale would never have abandoned them.

And me, well, I was lucky. I spent my teenage years with Jules and Charles, who had a structured enough family to share with me because my parents were absent.

Obviously, Charles and I had our rebellious phase with occasional drinking and smoking weed. But Jules, being almost ten years older than us, always kept us in line like a good older brother. And if he knew that we had crossed the line at parties or anywhere else, oh God! He would freak out.

- "Cecilia, I know it's difficult for you to say this, but I think it's important for Charles and me to understand," I say and she nods.

Cecília takes two deep breaths before continuing, and that's when I'm sure the story would only get worse. I try to prepare myself to hear what she had to say.

"I prostituted myself a few times without Paolo's knowledge. Some traffickers gave me drugs in exchange for sex and since many times I had no other choice, I accepted. But one day he found out and that ended us. With us." Tears returned to stream down her face. "Paolo went crazy when he found out and went after the trafficker I had slept with. He got a gun and killed the guy. We were on the run for a few weeks, but it was too hard for two homeless addicts to hide in Italy. Soon they found us and..." She closes her eyes and sobs.

I stretch my hand across the table and take Cecilia's hand. There was a lot of pain there and part of me wanted to curl up and stop listening, but I couldn't. I glance at Charles and he meets my gaze, his eyes reflecting distress at hearing everything that came out of her mouth. It was too surreal for him to hear all of that.

"They killed Paolo and thought they had killed me too. But by some miracle, I managed to survive and ask for help at a church. The priest there was friends with my parents and managed to find a family in Nice who were willing to help me. So I came to France, went through rehabilitation, and started attending meetings for drug addicts." Her eyes become distant again, and I continue holding her hand. "It was on the way back from one of those meetings that I met Jules, and that's where I understood the reason why I survived. We fell in love, but he had a public life and I couldn't expose myself because I was afraid that they would come after me. I told Jules what had happened and unlike what I thought he would do, he embraced me. He promised me that he wouldn't tell anyone, not even you two until I was ready and safe. And he did that. He kept us a secret for months. We saw each other every time he came back to Nice, after the races." She finishes.

Charles and I watched as Cecilia tried to calm her breathing, her grip on the sleeping Vincenzo's body tightening as if afraid he might disappear from her arms at any moment.

It breaks my heart to see all her pain and gives me a completely different perspective from when I walked in here today. She loved Vincenzo, and that was clear, just as she had loved Jules. And that's the part that hurts me the most.

Knowing that the reason Jules never mentioned her to us, his friends and family, was sole to protect her, made my heart heavy and warm at the same time. That was so Jules.

I remember months before he died, he started to spend more time in his hometown and whenever we asked him about it, he said he wanted to spend a little more time with his family. We even found it a little strange, but Jules always had a great relationship with his parents and closest relatives, which made us simply let it go and just enjoy the time we spent together before he and Charles had to go back to racing.

"I'm sorry for all of this, really, Cecilia," Charles is the first to say after she seems calmer. "But we still need to know why you're only coming to us now," he says, and I agree.

Cecilia nods and looks at Vincenzo in her arms. The tension emanating from her makes me shiver, and Charles probably noticed it too as his hand finds my thigh under the table.

"About two days before Jules' death, I found out I was pregnant with Vincenzo," she says and I nod in understanding. "Jules was racing in Shanghai and I was scared and alone here." The tears that had ceased returned in stronger waves.

My mind teleports back to 2019, to Jules' last race. He was so happy to finish seventh that day. But, all of a sudden, he just wanted to go home and rest, not even celebrating with the boys on the grid.

"I sent him a message after the race. I said I needed him to come to Nice as soon as possible because something had happened," Cecilia looks at Charles as she speaks. "Then he sent me a message saying he would take the first available flight back to France."

As Cecilia talks, Charles' grip on my thigh gets stronger. I look at him from the corner of my eye and I can see the moment his Adam's apple goes up and down.

"So that's why he left so quickly that day," Charles' voice sounds low. "He left before I could talk to him..." His eyes fill with tears and his breathing becomes a bit unstable. Cecilia just nods and closes her eyes tightly before continuing.

"When Jules arrived in Nice, it was already early morning and it was raining heavily. He tried to get a taxi or Uber, but couldn't get either," this time I feel my breathing falter a bit as she continues. "He managed to rent a car from a nearby 24-hour agency and sent me a message saying he would arrive soon and that I didn't need to worry because no matter what was happening, everything would be okay and that he loved me."

Charles stood up abruptly. His face adopted a look of disbelief.

"It was you..." his voice was weak and accusatory. "It was because of you that he... My God!" He flinches and his hands pass through his face and his hair.

"Charles..." I try to calm him down, even though I am also anxious. "Charles, please sit down and try to calm down." I try to grab his hand, but he recoils in a sudden movement.

"Calm down? It's her, Marie!" he says, pointing to Cecilia who only shrinks into her chair and holds Vincenzo even tighter, as he moves uncomfortably in her lap. "She killed him! IT'S HER FAULT THAT JULES DIED!" he screams.

My breathing becomes difficult and my heart races. In front of me, Cecilia sobs and holds Vincenzo even closer to her body.

All that commotion made some employees start to appear and approach at a safe distance from the table.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," Cecilia pleads. "I swear I never wanted this to happen, I was so scared and..." She stops when she hears Vincenzo's low cry.

Charles' attention goes to the little boy as he realizes he is now awake. He shakes his head in a negative motion and leaves the café in a hurry, slamming the door hard behind him. We are startled by the noise and the little boy cries even louder. I quickly get up to go after Charles, but before I do, I turn to Cecilia.

"Please wait here, okay? I'll try to calm him down. Don't leave," I say, and she nods, her face stained with tears that continued to fall, and her breathing accelerated as she rocked Vincenzo, trying to calm him down.

A dark-haired waitress approaches with a glass of water in her hands and places it in front of Cecilia. I thank her with a gesture and quickly leave through the door to find Charles.

It doesn't take me long to find him, he was in front of a black car. His body leaned against the driver's side. Even from a distance, I can see his body shaking and hear the sound of his erratic breathing. I approach him slowly, so as not to startle him.

When I get close enough, I think about touching him, but the thought leaves my mind when I realize it's not a good idea.

"Charles..." I call him softly to get his attention. "I'm sorry, but we need to go back there. She-"

"No!" he exclaims. "Please, Marie! Don't ask me to go back there. She killed him! It was her fault!" He stares at me with red and swollen eyes.

My heart tightens at the sight of him like this. I find myself being sent back to the year of Jules' death, specifically to the day of his funeral.

I wanted to hug Charles and tell him that everything would be okay, but in reality, I didn't know if it would. Jules had died almost four years ago, and yet it still hurt every time his name was mentioned. And hearing today from a stranger the reasons that resulted in his death was not easy. But there was a reason why Cecilia wanted to contact us after all this time, and we needed to know.

I take a deep breath and decide to approach Charles more. One of us had to try to be rational at this moment, and if it had to be me, okay. I wasn't going to go back to Italy without an answer.

"Charles, I understand that it's difficult to hear all of this suddenly," my hands go to his face. "I know it hurts, Charles. I'm feeling it too." He closes his eyes and I feel tears rolling down my face. "But we can't blame her entirely, Charles. She was scared and just wanted to talk to him.”

“And it resulted in his death." He says, his eyes opening and meeting mine. "Marie, if she hadn't done what she did, he would be here now. He would be alive and he would have met..." His voice trails off. "He would have met his son." He cries and I pull him into a hug.

Jules died without knowing his son. Jules died without knowing that he would have a son. Jules died in the dark without knowing what was happening to Cecilia. Jules died alone and worried, and nothing we can do will bring him back. He died. It's over. But Charles and I are still here.

"Jules died without knowing his son, but we're still here and we can do this for him," I say and he squeezes me tighter.

"We're still here, Charles. And we can do this." He breaks the hug and looks at me with a face full of sorrow. I nod.

"We need to go in there together. Together," he looks down at his feet. "Charles, I need you to go in there with me because I can't do this alone." His eyes come back to me and he understands that I used the same words he did a few years ago. "Please, Charles. I don't want to do this alone. I can't." He nods and I take his hand and slowly lead him back to the cafe.

When we walk through the door, my eyes meet Cecilia's. I nod my head to let her know it's okay, and she nods in understanding. I look at Charles who stares at her expressionlessly. His gaze is icy, totally different from the one I once knew.

Still holding Charles' hand, I walk toward the table where she uncomfortably waits for us. I notice that Vincenzo is no longer in her lap and feel momentary concern that quickly passes when I see him playing with the same red-haired waitress who had served us.

We sit in our chairs and I see that our orders are placed on the table. I feel my stomach churn just looking at the cappuccino in front of me. I take glance around and notice the employees trying to avoid looking at us. I make a mental note to "solve" this problem so it doesn't follow us when we leave.

"Just say what you want," Charles breaks the silence, his eyes still staring at Cecilia who nods and swallows hard.

"I understand your anger, and I know I have no right to ask for what I'm about to ask," she says and my hearing sharpens. "I live with guilt for years. Whether it's for Paolo or Jules, guilt and remorse follow me wherever I go. No matter what I try to do, they're always there." She looks at her hands. "Last year, I relapsed. I used heroin, once, but I used it. After years of resisting and not even going near drugs, I let my messed-up mind fall into the hole and I shot up." She lets out a desperate laugh and her eyes fill with water.

My body freezes and Charles makes a sound of scorn beside me. When he opens his mouth to say something, Cecilia cuts him off.

"Yes, I know I'm a whore, and I deserve the worst shit life has in store for me. But that's the thing. I deserve the bad things, but my son doesn't," she says firmly, looking at us seriously. "I need Vincenzo to have a good and decent life. I need to make sure he grows up loved and that he never lacks anything." She looks away for a moment to the table where Vincenzo was happily playing with the waitress and then back to us.

Cecilia takes a deep breath and leans forward. I could swear she was capable of asking for anything at that moment. Money, a house in a distant place, a period in rehab, anything.

"I can't take care of Vincenzo anymore," she asserts, her tone exuding bitterness. "I promised Jules that I would do everything to make him different from me. And that's why I came to you after all these years."

My head spins. She's asking for...? No, it's not possible.

"What do you mean by that?" Charles asks anxiously.

"Cecilia wipes the tears from her face with her hand, blinks a few times, and adopts a determined look, a look that I knew well. The same look I gave to myself in the mirror when I decided to leave Monaco. Suddenly, I feel afraid because my suspicions are confirmed.

"She wants us to take care of Vincenzo," I say.

#charles leclerc smut #charles leclerc x black!reader #charles leclerc x reader angst #charles lecrelc #pierre gasly #carlos sainz fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #lewis hamilton #formula 1

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simpforfandom231 · 5 months

Text

Basketball star PT2

The midday sun cast a warm glow over the Belgian streets as Y/N pulled up in her sleek Range Rover to pick up Julie Vanloo, her spirited teammate and confidante. Julie hopped into the car with an infectious grin, her eyes sparkling with excitement.

"Guess who's practically Hollywood royalty now?" Julie teased, nudging Y/N playfully as they drove towards their favorite lunch spot.

Y/N blushed, her hands tight on the steering wheel. "Oh, come on, Jules. You know that whole thing with Rachel Zegler was just a crazy coincidence. She's a Hollywood star, and I'm just a basketball player from Belgium. It's not like she'd actually want to go on a date with me."

Julie, unable to contain her enthusiasm, squealed, "Are you kidding? Rachel Zegler crushing on you is like winning the lottery! You're an absolute catch, Y/N!"

As they arrived at the cozy cafe, the owner greeted them with a knowing smirk. "Looks like you've got some famous admirers, Y/N. Better watch out for the paparazzi!"

Seated at their usual spot, Julie continued to playfully prod Y/N about sending a message to Rachel. "Come on, Y/N! Slide into those DMs and make history! I'd give anything to be in your shoes right now!"

Y/N rolled her eyes, "Yeah, right. Like Rachel Zegler is going to respond to a message from me. She's probably just joking about wanting to go on a date."

Julie's eyes widened, "Are you kidding? This is like a romantic comedy in the making! Hollywood actress falls for the Belgian basketball star. It's perfect!"

Y/N chuckled, still unconvinced. "Julie, you've watched too many rom-coms. This is real life, not a movie script. Besides, she lives in Hollywood, and I'm here in Belgium. It's not exactly convenient."

Undeterred, Julie leaned in, "Life is short, Y/N. You miss 100% of the shots you don't take, right?"

Y/N smirked, "Nice try, quoting a basketball proverb at me, but this is a whole different ball game."

As they debated the pros and cons of Y/N reaching out to Rachel, fans approached for pictures. One particularly enthusiastic fan brought up the Met Gala interview, and Y/N groaned playfully, "Yeah, that happened. Rachel Zegler is incredible, though. I'm just a basketball player from Belgium."

Once the fans dispersed, Julie resumed her campaign. "Look, Y/N, even your fans want this to happen. Imagine the headlines – 'Belgian Basketball Star and Hollywood Darling's Unlikely Romance!'"

Y/N sighed, still skeptical, "Julie, this is crazy. It's not like she'd ever consider dating me. We're in completely different worlds."

However, the twinkle in Julie's eye didn't waver. "Come on, Y/N. You're amazing, and who knows? Maybe Rachel Zegler is just waiting for you to make the first move. It's worth a shot!"

Reluctantly, Y/N pulled out her phone, her fingers hovering over the keys. "Fine, but this is probably the dumbest thing I've ever done."

As she crafted a message to Rachel, her heart pounded in her chest. "Hey Rachel, it's Y/N. I heard your interview, and, well, I was wondering if you'd be up for grabbing coffee or something sometime? 😊"

#fandom #lucy gray baird x you #lucy gray x fem!reader #rachel zegler #lucy gray baird x reader #lucy gray x reader #fanfic #lucy gray #lucy gray baird #story

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zoobus · 2 years

Text

So two tiktoks about karens and ghosting assholes went viral this weekend. Both of them were lies. (video source)

Transcript under the cut

Jules: The amount of videos that go viral and get posted without someone's consent has become disgusting. While over the past decades, everyone's been worried about growing government surveillance, the average civilian is becoming just as bad of a culprit. Let's get into two examples from just the past 72 hours.

First, [tiktok user] briannachickenfry.

[tiktok shown in background with caption “I GOT INTO A FIGHT WITH A CRAZY KAREN BC SHE THOUGH I STOLE HER DAUGHTER’S BOA OFF OF HER NECK?????”]

She posts an altercation between her and someone's mom in a bathroom at a Harry Styles concert. Bear with me…the bigger message is wild and this video has about 20 million views. The mom thought [Brianna] took her daughter's boa and Brianna immediately lied, saying she had it on all night.

[tiktok of Brianna talking plays] ”So then I just start lying like bitch, I've had this on all niiight, what are you talking about?”

Jules: That follow up video was quickly deleted or taken down? I'm not sure. But yeah, she lied.

Will we ever know the initial altercation or if it was actually the daughter’s boa that Brianna slyly stole or grabbed from the ground or whatever? No, unless it becomes normal for bathrooms to be surveilled.

Regardless, I don't need to know. All I need to know is that Brianna posted a drunk rage towards someone who is not on the internet like that, to her audience of 1.6 million people. She continuously called the mom a…

[another tiktok of Brianna plays] “Crazy fucking bitch!”

Jules:…when she was pretty calm throughout the entire video. She also said stuff like:

[another tiktok of Brianna plays] “Oh my gooodddd, I hope you get hit by a fucking car you-“

Jules: and:

[another tiktok of Brianna plays] “Her daughter’s like, about to cry, I feel so horrible for your daughter, you’re mother’s a stupid fucking bitch, don’t even get me fucking started, I want to FUCK-ing kill her. You’re also a stupid bitch but anyway-“

Jules: …and is now selling t shirts about it.

The people in Briana's comment section, eating this shit up, stop being NPCs and looking at everything through the lens of a fucking meme. There are real people who get put in humiliating positions on a scale that is unfathomable to their everyday lives because of whack ass as behavior like this.

Okay, I'm not shocked because Barstool social media accounts have always thrived off of amplifying this type of content. I'm not saying that out of spite, I have respect for Dave Portnoy. Anyway.

Second, a girl recorded a guy on the street claiming she was supposed to go on a date with him, but that he said he was out of town when he wasn't. This gotcha video got 1.3 million views and many of the comments reverted to targeting the guy's appearance. He stitched the video saying, I do not know the person who recorded this. It is a complete lie. He's in a relationship and it could have been his girlfriend who came across this and was like, what the hell?

He talked about how the comment section was hurtful. Like yeah, I didn't do that. This is still how I look, so…those comments aren't void.

The girl apologized saying she just posts videos of a range of dating scenarios and that she thought it was okay because he had his head down etc. Again, it's this whole mindset of looking at things through the lens of a meme. It dehumanizes people and looks at them as nothing but characters and it's shared on the internet and permanence to an unpredictable audience. Despite apologizing she still has the video posted as of right now. You know, got to keep those metrics up.

So yeah, look, strangers being documented isn't new. You might be in the back of 10 family photos for all, you know. But as technology and culture, especially around media evolves, these things are happening on a more frequent and intense level. No one is safe and we feel that. Anytime someone takes a photo or video, we default assume that it's gonna be posted or sent somewhere. Meanwhile, just over a decade ago, it felt like people were more comfortable in front of cameras because the default assumption was that it was going to stay in a personal bubble.

In a digital world increasingly run by recommendation algorithms, we all have more leveled responsibility. Each and every one of us plays a role in holding ourselves and others accountable. Last year, I discussed twitter's new policy protecting general consent and all other platforms need to follow suit.

#privacy #panopticon #surveillance #captions auto generated using flixier and edited after

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neverscreens · 2 years

Text

MASTERLIST OF SCREENCAPS, PT2.

Click here to go to part 1.

I hope its useful and helps you find what you need! Don't forget that besides these packs we also have individual posts, from since the beginning of this blog in 2017!

FULL SEASONS SCREENCAPS.

Looking for Alaska, Whole Miniseries.

Heartbreak High, Season One.

Fate: The Winx Saga, Season Two.

Pistol, Miniseries Complete.

Panic, Complete.

The Bear, Season One.

The White Lotus, Season Two.

GAP: The Series, Being updated.

Wednesday, Season One.

Young Royals, Season Two.

Gossip Girl, Season Two.

MOVIES SCREENCAPS.

Passengers, 141 Screencaps.

Red Riding Hood, 334 Screencaps.

Can't Buy Me Love, 240 Screencaps.

Coraline, 780 Screencaps.

Jennifer's Body, 670 Screencaps.

The School for Good and Evil, 896 Screencaps.

The Nightmare Before Christmas, 609 Screencaps.

Monster House, 540 Screencaps.

Fear Street: 1994, 377 Screencaps.

Corpse Bride, 924 Screencaps.

Fear Street 1978, 489 Screencaps.

Fear Street 1666, 433 Screencaps.

Scooby-Doo and the Witch's Ghost, 403 Screencaps.

Beyond the Universe, 481 Screencaps.

Clouds, 642 Screencaps.

My Policeman, 810 Screencaps.

Selena Gomez: My Mind & Me, 800 Screencaps.

Holidate, 401 Screencaps.

Last Christmas, 397 Screencaps.

Falling for Christmas, 722 Screencaps.

Pearl, 441 Screencaps.

The Lost Girls, 190 Screencaps.

Disenchanted, 700 Screencaps.

Let it Snow, 370 Screencaps.

20th Century Girl, 403 Screencaps.

Guardians of the Galaxy Holiday, 305 Screencaps.

Dear Zoe, 202 Screencaps.

Something from Tiffany's, 279 Screencaps.

Hotel for the Holidays, 373 Screencaps.

The Princess Switch 2, 580 Screencaps.

Sharp Stick, 228 Screencaps.

Cow Belles, 289 Screencaps.

LOOSE EPISODES.

Only Murders in the Building, 96 Screencaps.

Never Have I Ever S03E01, 109 Screencaps.

Hunters S01E01, 81 Screencaps.

High School Musical TMTS, Season Three Almost Complete.

The Rings of Power. First three eps.

Christmas in 2 Broke Girls, 86 Screencaps.

Christmas in Friends, 109 Screencaps.

Christmas in TVD, 166 Screencaps.

The Addams Family '64, 233 Screencaps.

Pretty Little Liars S05E13, 220 Screencaps.

MISCELLANEOUS: INTERVIEWS, VLOGS, LIVE AND GAMES.

Ross Lynch, 36 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift JIMMYF, 45 Screencaps.

Claudia and Kennedy Walsh Xmas Vlog, 140 Screencaps.

Jenna Ortega in Technicolor, 58 Screencaps.

Jão VEVO Performance, 94 Screencaps.

Xmas w Claudia + Kennedy Walsh, 104 Screencaps.

Olivia Rodrigo MetGala22, 93 Screencaps.

Billie Eilish Beauty Routine, 75 Screencaps.

Billie Same Interview 6th Year, 137 Screencaps.

Millie Bobby Brown Lie Detector, 102 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen for IGN, 33 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen's 5-minute easy radiant skin routine, 113 Screencaps.

Elizabeth Olsen was raised on Musicals and Sitcoms | W Magazine, 77 Screencaps.

Iman Vellani on Ms. Marvel’s POWERS and How The Marvels Fits into the MCU (Exclusive), 45 Screencaps.

MUSIC VIDEOS.

Britney — You Drive Me Crazy, 61 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift — Anti-Hero, 110 Screencaps.

Taylor Swift — Bejeweled, 98 Screencaps.

Sabrina Carpenter — Nonsense, 118 Screencaps.

Hailee Steinfeld — Coast, 87 Screencaps.

Camila Cabello — Havana, 55 Screencaps.

Sabrina Carpenter — Skinny Dipping, 75 Screencaps.

XG — Left Right, 189 Screencaps.

Rosalía — Con Altura, 61 Screencaps.

Twice — Set me free, 131 Screencaps.

Ive — Kitsch, 162 Screencaps.

Jisoo — Flower, 114 Screencaps.

CHARACTERS SCENE PACKS.

Amanda Seyfried in The Dropout, 323 Screencaps.

Robby Keene, S03, 101 Screencaps.

Jules Millin S19E02 — Grey's A., 56 Screencaps.

Isadora Artinan — ELITE, All Scenes in S06.

Judith Grimes — TWD, 118 Screencaps.

JOY in Once Upon a Small Town, All Scenes S01.

Mariana Foster GT S04, 118 Screencaps.

Mariana Foster TF S04, 76 Screencaps.

IU in Persona, 102 Screencaps.

Anita — Bom dia, Veronica S01, 139 Screencaps.

TRAILERS

Elemental (2023), 29 Screencaps.

The Super Mario Bros. Movie, 67 Screencaps.

Emily in Paris S03 Announcement, 43 Screencaps.

Emily in Paris S03 Trailer, 122 Screencaps.

Scream 6, 30 Screencaps.

Barbie Teaser, 44 Screencaps.

Renfield, 108 Screencaps.

You S04, 97 Screencaps.

#masterlist #screencaps masterlist #packs masterlist #screencaps packs masterlist

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garbinge · 1 year

Text

The Odds of a Jawbreaker

EZ Reyes & OC Julia ‘Jules’ Silva

Day 18 from these April Prompts: Jawbreaker Sweets

Summary: After some time away, EZ and childhood friend Jules flip the odds of what life could be for them. AU of Mayans - I’d like to call it a baseball AU but we’re like not quite there yet lol.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: I’ve been having a rough couple of days so I’m not really sure what this is but, I hope you all enjoy! lol.

Warnings: Light angst

Mayans Taglist: @drabbles-mc @narcolini @justreblogginfics

Her satin dress and long hair blew in the Santa Padre cool December air. She quickly tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear as she eagerly awaited for the door she just knocked on to open. Her mind was jumping all over the place, while it was nice to be back home, she definitely didn’t miss the condescending and prying comments that always happened at her family’s annual Christmas party.

“Are you seeing anyone?” “Why didn’t you major in engineering like your parents?” “You’re a freelance photographer?” “Not a lot of money in that, is there?” And that was just the ones she could remember, she definitely let a lot of them go in one ear and out the other but sometimes some of them found a way of sticking. That’s why she found herself at the Mango Street address, banging on the front door nervously waiting for someone to answer.

“Hellllllooooo!!!” She yelled and peaked through the window hoping to catch someone walking by.

“Are you crazy? Or just stupid?” Angel’s voice alerted the woman as he opened the door. His jaw hit the ground when he saw who was standing there.

“You wanna retract that statement or what?” She pushed the man slightly as she slid next to him to enter the house. “Where’s EZ?”

The girl moved around the house like she had never left, like she was home again, and in a way she was. This house was where she grew up, after school she’d be here till the late hours of the night studying, before school she’d come over and trade lunches, the weekends were spent playing endless amounts of the same video game over and over again on the couch. All with her best friend, Ezekiel Reyes and his brother Angel.

“Come on in, Julia.” Angel sarcastically retorted as he was still shocked holding the door open.

“I’ve got a one track mind right now Ange, and I’m determined to bring your brother in on it with me.” The hallway was just in her steps when she heard a familiar voice behind her coming from the kitchen.

“Jules?”

A grin the size of the moon grew on her face and she turned around to stare at her best friend. It had been a few years since they last saw each other. They were both at different colleges, at opposite sides of the state which made visiting rare and honestly non-existent.

“You want to go on an adventure?” Her face was glowing in excitement.

EZ stood there, a confused look on his face but still a glimmer of amusement peaking through. His hands were perched on his zip up, gripping the opening as he stared at the girl trying to comprehend exactly what she meant. But then it hit him. This was Julia. His Julia. Wild Jules. Whatever she had up her sleeve was probably going to be the most entertaining thing he’d done since he saw her last. He had missed that, the spontaneity the girl brought to his life, the laughs, and even in the midst of the chaos, she brought a feeling of trust. A feeling of home.

“Let me grab my keys.” EZ moved so swiftly to grab the keys to the pick up truck while the girl made her way back outside, squeezing by Angel again.

“Merry Christmas, Angel.” Jules squeezed his arm as she made her way back through the front door. “Tell Pops I say the same and sorry for kidnapping EZ!” She called out now that she was on the porch making her way down the steps.

Angel stood there dumbfounded again, confused to all hell at what was going on. His brother was now making his way past him to follow the girl who now stood impatiently in the driveway. Angel gripped his hand around EZ’s bicep, stopping him in his steps for a moment.

“What the fuck is going on?” Angel asked, shaking his head truly just wanting to wrap his head around the last few minutes.

EZ licked his lips and gave that infamous grin of his and tapped Angel’s hand before removing it off his arm with a shrug. “It’s Jules.”

Two words. As if that was the only explanation that was needed. For Felipe, who had just made his way to the living room to see what all the commotion was, it was all the explanation that was needed. Angel looked back at his father, as if he was waiting for him to offer up more information but he just followed suit with his youngest son's expression and shrugged, lifting his hands up and retreating back to his bedroom.

After the two piled into the truck, EZ started to drive, following the girl’s directions with no clue where they were headed.

“What brings you back home?” EZ asked, gripping the wheel.

“Same as you.” Jules was now putting her window down so the breeze was in her face.

“If I recall, I’m never invited to the Silva Family Christmas Party,” Ez teased, knowing all about the annual holiday party the girl’s family threw.

“Every year that passes I’m closer and closer to my invite being revoked.” She laughed.

It was strange. Even though the two picked up like no time had passed so easily, it was overwhelming. Not so much them or their friendship, but what it meant. The last time they were together, there was a pressure, a pressure of leaving behind all what was expected of them, which was a lot. Their last conversation was an argument about not going through with it. Jules was begging EZ to follow what he wanted to do, pursue baseball, while EZ was telling her she couldn’t live in her parents' shadow anymore. Jules did it. She dropped out of school after the first semester and picked up photography and began travelling, working for magazines and companies on spec. It wasn’t a luxurious life but it was one she was proud of.

They pulled up to the ice cream parlor that was downtown and before EZ even put the car in park Jules was opening the door to exit. All he could do was chuckle, and open his door as quickly as he put the truck in park. As he exited, he saw the girl twirling around in the empty parking lot, her hair a mess from the car’s open window breeze and looking like a fool in her expensive dress clashing with the run down ice cream shop in the background. But yet, to EZ it was a picture perfect moment.

“C’mon, Stanford. You’re buying me a sundae.” She waved him over.

“And me?” He passed the girl and began walking backwards as his eyebrows raised a couple times at his best friend.

“I’ll buy YOU a sundae next week, same day, same time. It’s a date!” Her voice boomed in the empty parking lot.

“I gotta get back to school, Jules.” EZ’s voice was soft in comparison to hers as he held the door open for her.

“No you don’t.” The girl denied as she slipped by him rapidly entering the shop.

EZ didn’t bother arguing, it hadn’t even been 20 minutes and he wasn’t going to have this conversation just yet with the girl, not to mention he was on a high just from seeing her. Her energy was contagious and he was just happy to have this moment with her.

“Vanilla Sundae, hot fudge, strawberries, rainbow sprinkles, anndddddd,” the girl paused for a minute as she overlooked the toppings menu one more time before finishing her order, “and a jawbreaker.”

Her head swiveled over her shoulder as she looked at EZ and asked him what he wanted. That was it. That was the moment. Their last conversation, the argument. The look she gave him transported him back to that day.

They had just left some shitty party and were walking home. They decided to walk through the shops downtown specifically because they heard some street music. Jules was absolutely drunk off her ass that night and the two of them danced the night away in the middle of the Santo Padre streets until she spun around so much she quite literally got sick. EZ held her hair back for her and just in typical Jules fashion, she bounced back immediately, wanting to tackle the next adventure of the night, which happened to be getting EZ to skip out on Stanford and go into minor league baseball.

She looked over her shoulder at him just as she was doing now, giving him that look, with those eyes. He almost forgot how he could say no to a face that beautiful. The key word being almost. That night he just brought her close against his chest, resting his head above hers. Offering no words, just hoping the comfort would give her some time of answer.

“Don’t go, EZ.” She mumbled into his chest.

“I think we should get you home, Jules.” EZ squeezed the girl and resumed their walk home.

EZ knew he loved her then, but he decided to take the route of breaking her heart instead, which also happened to be the path where he broke his own as well. He packed up for Stanford, missed saying goodbye to Jules and sent a 3 sentence note to her house knowing she wouldn’t have read it until she was back home in a few months.

“EZ, do you want anything?” The girl asked again and he shook himself out of his head.

“Same as you.” He stepped up throwing a $20 on the counter and his arm around the girl as she leaned into his chest.

“I missed this.” She mumbled against him.

“Me too, Jules.”

The two sat in the truck, windows down, eating their ice cream in silence, just the sounds of spoons hitting cartons and the occasional teeth chatter from the mix of the cool air and the cold ice cream.

Ez barely touched his, which allowed Jules to finish hers and then start scooping from his cup.

“What’s wrong with you?” She asked as her spoon snuck into his bowl.

“You were right.” EZ said not able to hold back anymore. The memory of that night was eating him alive. Especially those last words.

“I love you, but I can’t be here to watch you give your all to a life you don’t want.”

“Then don’t.”

Then don’t. EZ ate those words the minute they left his mouth.

“I tend to be right about a lot, care to elaborate?” The girl was clearly still unaware of what EZ meant.

“I shouldn’t have gone to school, I should’ve joined the training program.” EZ spit out words that were shocking to her.

“Is it too late?” Logic took over, she wasn’t going to pull the “told you so” card, she wasn’t going to make a point, she was just going to try and see if it was feasible.

“I’m a year out, as year out of practice. It’s nearly impossible.” EZ shook his head and leaned against his arm that was rested on the window of the car.

“Nearly.” Jules said, grabbing his ice cream from him and finishing it off. “There’s some wiggle room there.”

EZ smirked at that and let out a chuckle, Jules wasn’t one to give up easily, if there was .01% of a chance she would take it.

“So what?” Her mouth was full of melted vanilla ice cream as she spoke, “we just gotta practice? Fill out some paper work? We’ll get Angel in the outfield, you tend to aim better when you have him as a target, then we’ll go down and fill out whatever we gotta fill out.”

She was so hopeful that it made EZ start to gain a little aspiration.

“We?” He asked, looking over at the girl now.

“I’m working on a hometown piece for this magazine, I’ll be here for at least a month.” She now had the jawbreaker in her hand.

“I never understood why you ordered those, you never eat them.” EZ’s attention was now being drawn to the candy.

“They make for good magic 8 balls.” She shrugged and opened the door to the truck so she was now standing in the parking lot. “If it’s blue, we go on the second part of the adventure I had planned and then think about baseball, if it’s red, we go to the batting cages in El Centro and then the second part of my adventure after.”

“What’s the point in that, it’s win win?” EZ was leaning over in the truck so she could hear him.

“Exactly, we make our own odds, Reyes.” She said like he should’ve been aware of that.

She smashed the jawbreaker on the ground and it broke into a few pieces to reveal the purple inside of the candy.

EZ let out a laugh, moving so his head was leaning against the head rest. “Create your own odds all you want but fate has a way of intervening.” He shook his head waiting for the girl to get back in the truck but when he looked over he saw she was gone.

A pit filled his stomach and he was scanning the lot looking for her before exiting the vehicle himself, sweat starting to drip from his head as he continued to look for her. His eyes stopped as he looked inside the ice cream shop to see her leaving with the bucket of jawbreakers in her arms, struggling to hold it up but not one peep out of her asking for help.

With a deep sigh of relief, EZ walked over to her and grabbed the bucket out of her arms.

“You wanna tell me what the hell you’re doing?” His confusion not only on his face but in his tone.

“Making due with the odds given to us.” She shrugged like it was obvious. “It was purple. So we come up with something else to do. We’re gonna take these to the park and use them as baseballs. I know you have a bat and glove in the trunk, you always do.”

EZ was at a loss for words, this was Jules, her mind was always working and not being around her as much made him forget just how hard her mind did work.

“I’m in, but only if we make bets on each one we hit.” EZ placed the bucket in the bed of the pickup as he stared at the girl on the other side.

“Will I be a millionaire?” The girl’s voice went high as she interlocked her hands and kicked her leg up to mock EZ.

“Hey, I thought you were all about the odds.” He questioned her with a smile knowing the teasing remark would earn him a look.

They climbed into the truck when Jules shook her head and smiled. “Shut up and drive, Reyes. Let’s get you into that training program.”

#EZ Reyes #ezekiel reyes #ezekiel reyes x oc #Mayans MC #Mayans FX #MayansMC #Mayans mc fanfic #Mayans Fanfic #Mayans AU #AU #ez reyes x oc

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sjsmith56 · 10 months

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It’s Been a Long, Long Time

Summary: A recurring nightmare of a woman who died in Bucky’s arms during the war keeps waking him up. Sam does some research to help his friend figure out what the dream means.

Length: 3.5K

Characters: Bucky Barnes, two named female original characters, Sam Wilson, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark

Warnings: traumatic death of a character, angst (Bucky’s)

Author’s notes: This one-shot is inspired by a cheesy 80’s movie, called Made in Heaven, basically true love will find a way even if death occurs. Although it starts with a sudden death it ends in the fluffiest way. The song title, used as the one shot title, is associated with Steve Rogers and Peggy Carter at the end of Avengers Endgame. Because this is set in an AU where Steve stayed in the future I have used it for Bucky. The song was written in 1945 by Jule Steyne and Sammy Kahn.

🎶

It was Christmas, 1944 and the Howling Commandos were in London, England on a well-deserved break. He was at a dance, drinking and watching the couples dancing. The few single women there were in high demand, and he just didn’t feel up to cutting in on the lucky guys who had a dancing partner. Then she walked in, wearing a blue dress and a smile. Her presence was like feeling a warm spring breeze caress your face.

“May I have this dance?”

That’s all he had to say for her to turn that smile towards him, place her hand in his and let him lead her around the dance floor. When another soldier came to cut in she looked at the guy with surprise.

“I’m dancing with my fiancé,” came the words straight from her mouth in this lovely British accent. When the man murmured his apologies and left she looked up at Bucky. “You don’t mind being my fiancé tonight, do you?”

“Not one bit,” he said, totally taken by her vivaciousness.

They danced until the band called it quits then headed out into the night to catch a bus to her flat. Just a few months previous the blackout conditions had been relaxed allowing for the use of lighting levels at the equivalent of a moonlit night. It was still dark, however, and pedestrians were warned to be on their guard while crossing the roads. As they walked, the last bus suddenly drove past them and they realized they would have to walk the full distance. Bucky kept an eye and ear out while he and Miss Sabrina Cooper strolled, holding hands as they shared their lives. When they arrived at the door of her building she looked up at the handsome American soldier.

“I share a bedroom with my sister so I can’t ask you in,” she said apologetically. “Would you meet me here tomorrow morning? She’s going to Bath with her fellow for the weekend. We can spend the day together and you can stay the night.”

“Only if you’re sure,” replied Bucky. “I wouldn’t want you to get a bad reputation.”

She laughed and he felt the effect of it down to his core. He was hers and would be there in the morning with bells on, as the saying went. When they kissed goodnight it was like tasting the best dessert that Bucky’s ma ever made, it was so sweet and tasty that he couldn’t get enough of it. As Sabrina watched from the step Bucky crossed the road to find his way back to his billet. He had only gone a few yards when he heard her call his name then run into the street towards him for one last kiss. To his horror a lorry appeared out of nowhere and struck her down right in front of him. Just like that, she was gone, dying in his arms. Then a man’s voice from the dark told him he had so many days to stop it from happening again.

Lately Bucky had been experiencing the same dream. For the past ten nights he had relived this memory from his past, and it was driving him crazy as it seemed to be a countdown. The first night the voice told him he had 30 days. Now on this most recent experience it was down to 20 days, and he still didn’t know why this was happening or what he was supposed to do. Seeing it was well after 2am, he got up and came out to the kitchen in Stark Tower then pulled open the fridge, looking for something to eat.

“Again?” said Sam’s voice as he entered the space. “How many nights is that?”

“Ten,” stated Bucky. “What are you doing up?”

“Had a date,” explained the other man. “Told me she wanted to stay friends.”

“Ouch,” said the super soldier, pulling out some leftover Chinese food. “Want some?”

Sam nodded his consent and Bucky divided it up between the two plates, heating up Sam’s first before heating his own. He pulled out a beer for each of them. The two men sat next to each other as they ate the leftovers. After several minutes Sam took a drink of beer and looked over at Bucky.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” replied Bucky. “I mean, it really happened, right? She was hit by the truck and I know she died because she died in my arms. I couldn’t get to her in time. As for the significance of it, it’s beyond me. It’s not even happening at the same time of year or the same city. Why now?”

“Maybe something like it is going to happen again and it’s a precognition thing,” said Sam. “Maybe you’ll save someone’s life for real this time.”

Bucky smirked. “Sure, that’s got to be it.”

He shook his head, still irritated at experiencing that real life nightmare over and over again. When he finished eating Sam was only half done so Bucky put his dishes in the dishwasher and said goodnight to his fellow Avenger. Sam finished a few minutes later and put his dishes away then leaned back.

“Friday, can you start a search for me, my eyes only?” he asked.

“Certainly, Mr. Wilson,” said the female voice. “What would you like to know?”

“Check newspaper databases for London, England during the month of December 1944,” said Sam. “You’re looking for the pedestrian death of a young woman, age unknown, name Sabrina Cooper. She was hit by a truck. There may be an American soldier who witnessed the accident.”

“Is it possible the pedestrian survived the accident?” asked Friday. “That would increase the possibilities of an accurate result.”

“Sure, add that to the mix,” said Sam. “Any results can wait until I wake up tomorrow. Goodnight, Friday.”

“Goodnight, Mr. Wilson. Sweet dreams.”

He slept in the next morning, not waking up until after 10 am. After a quick shower he came out to the kitchen, finding no one there. Making himself a coffee he was just about to sip it when Friday interrupted his actions.

“Mr. Wilson, I have results of the search you assigned me this morning,” said the friendly female voice.

“Already?” exclaimed Sam. “Let me hear them.”

“Sabrina Cooper was struck down by a lorry in the Chelsea area of London, early in the morning of Saturday, December 23, 1944. An unidentified American soldier, a Sergeant in the army, witnessed the accident. She died in his arms.”

“Hmmm,” said Sam, thoughtfully. “There’s nothing else?”

“That is correct,” replied the AI.

Back to square one.

An hour later, the two men, along with Steve Rogers headed out for a run through Central Park. When they stopped for a break, more for Sam’s sake, they all sprawled on their backs in the grass. Bucky sat up first and looked around at the people walking nearby. Something caught his eye and he stood up.

“Buck?” asked Steve, looking in the direction that his friend was looking. “What is it? Trouble?”

“No,” replied Bucky, sitting down again. “Just saw something familiar for a moment. A woman in a blue dress but I don’t see her now.” He looked at Sam. “Don’t say it. She didn’t look anything like her.”

“Ah, the woman from your memories who you’ve been dreaming about,” said Steve. “That’s ten nights now. You never talked about her when you got back from your leave. None of us knew what had happened.”

“I only knew her for a few hours,” said Bucky. “Then she was gone. Wasn’t much to tell.”

“It must have bothered you,” replied Steve.

“It did,” said Bucky. “She lived with her sister who was going to Bath for the weekend with her fellow. Sabrina asked me to come back in the morning and stay the weekend.” He smiled. “I would have spent a lifetime with her.”

“You did,” said Sam. “It was her lifetime.”

Bucky couldn’t disagree with his friend’s apt observation. When they returned to the compound Sam retreated to his room.

“Friday, could you do another search related to the search I requested earlier?” It answered in the affirmative. “Sabrina Cooper had a sister, first name unknown, living at the same address. She planned to go to Bath with a male friend that day. Is she still alive?”

“I will perform the search with the new parameters,” said Friday. “Shall I extend the search to any descendants?”

“Yes, please,” responded Sam.

He showered, changed and headed out to the kitchen area where several people were cooperating on preparing a meal. Sam offered to help but was told everything was in hand. When the meal was ready he took his share, sitting at the large table where others were reading a newspaper, or browsing on their tablets while they ate.

“Mr. Wilson,” said Friday. “I have a result on your search. Would you like me to share them here or in your room?”

“Here is fine,” said Sam.

“The name of the sister was Deidre Cooper. She was engaged to Flight Lieutenant Wallis Overton, a pilot with the Royal Canadian Air Force. The couple married in 1945 and she immigrated to Canada with her husband at that time. They had three children. Their youngest son, John Overton, born in 1952, married Teresa Fielder. Their oldest daughter, Marianne London was born in 1973, and is currently a resident of New York City.”

“That’s it?” asked Sam, as Bucky looked strangely at him.

“No, Marianne is a widow, and lives in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York with her daughter, Sabrina London, born December 23, 1994.”

Sam looked at Bucky. “I played a hunch,” he said. “Maybe you’re meant to save someone who was connected to Sabrina Cooper in some way. She was born on the same day 50 years after your Sabrina died. You’re welcome.”

Steve grinned as the others asked who Sabrina Cooper was. Bucky left the explanations for Sam and Steve while he acquired Sabrina London’s address and workplace. He planned to go the next day to begin his surveillance of her but that night they got the call for another mission that took most of them out of town for 2 ½ weeks. While he was away the dream continued with the countdown marching it’s way to the end. With 2 nights left the team returned to the compound and no one was surprised to see Bucky run to his room, shower, change and leave.

“Should we provide backup?” asked Sam. “To be honest, I kind of want to see this through.”

“I agree,” said Steve. He looked around at the others. “Anyone else want in on this mission?”

〰️

Bucky was already in the Chelsea neighbourhood of New York when the rest of the team decided to get in on the action. He found the address soon enough and set himself up to watch until someone came out of the main door of the apartment building. It was the doorman and Bucky realized that he might not have much luck with the residence so he sought out Sabrina London’s workplace, a record store that carried 78s, LPs, and CDs. When he stepped inside he smiled at the sound of Duke Ellington playing.

“Hiya!” said a cheerful voice and he looked to where it came from.

Suddenly, he was back on the dance floor in London as he saw Sabrina’s Cooper’s double behind the cash register, wearing a blue dress and a smile.

“Hi,” he replied. “Nice store.”

“Thanks,” she said. “I grew up listening to a lot of different genres and after I got my degree in musicology I decided to open my own place and bring music to the masses. There’s nothing wrong with digital music but there’s nothing like listening to the older stuff on vinyl, you know?”

“I agree,” smiled Bucky. “You carry any Benny Goodman or Harry James?”

“1940s fan, huh?” she said, then she looked at him again. “Have we met before?”

“Maybe in another life,” joked Bucky. “I’m Bucky, Bucky Barnes.”

“No shit, sorry,” she blushed. “I have a potty mouth sometimes. You really are him so the 1940s thing is for real. You must have seen some of those artists live.”

“I did,” said Bucky, stepping closer to the counter. “Billie Holliday, Benny Goodman, Cab Calloway, Count Basie, Lena Horne … I saw them in the clubs. The best way, in my opinion.”

She leaned forward, cradling her chin on her hand as he spoke. “Wow! I’m so jealous,” she replied. “I would have loved to have seen those people perform live.” She stuck her hand out. “Sabrina London. Owner, manager, soon to be ex-owner, ex-manager.”

“Why?” asked Bucky, watching her intently.

“Even though I’m in the middle of New York City I don’t really get enough business to make a profit. I’m barely keeping my head above water. Add in a jerk of a building owner who doesn’t seem to understand that you have to maintain these older buildings so that plumbing leaks don’t damage one’s inventory … sorry, I’m venting.”

“You need someone to invest in you,” said Bucky. “Your business, I mean. Maybe buy the building and restore it to something iconic. I’m pretty sure this was a high end retail store back in the 1940s. There has to be marble columns behind the drywall and hardwood floors beneath this sheet linoleum.”

“I wish,” she smiled. “You don’t think Tony Stark would be interested, do you?”

“If he doesn’t I might know a guy or two,” said Bucky. The sound of the door opening made them both look and he grinned as Sam and Steve walked in. “Hey, may I present Sabrina London, owner of this establishment. Sabrina, Steve Rogers and Sam Wilson.”

Steve looked all around, hearing the music. “We should be coming here to look for our music, Miss London. This place has character.”

“Just not enough business,” she said, “but go ahead and have a look. I can talk music all day.”

“Motown?” asked Sam.

She gestured towards the wall and he went over, beginning to flip through the selection. The door opened again and Tony Stark walked in, looking all around then seeing the young woman.

“Is this her?” he asked.

Sabrina looked at him, puzzled. “What do you mean by Is this her?” she asked, looking between Bucky and Tony. “Have you been watching me?”

“No, nothing creepy,” said Tony, to Bucky’s glare. “You might as well tell her. You got any AC/DC or Metallica in here?”

She gestured to another wall then looked at Bucky for an explanation. His face turned pink then he took a deep breath.

“Are you named after Sabrina Cooper?” he asked. “She was the sister of your great-grandmother Deidre Cooper.”

“How do you know that?” she asked, a crease appearing between her eyes as she frowned slightly. “It’s a family thing.”

“Because I’m a genius and I invented a very sophisticated AI that can search almost anything,” said Tony loudly from the heavy metal section, three LPs already in his arms.

Steve looked sympathetically at Bucky. “You might as well tell her the truth,” he said. “I’m going to look for some albums.”

Bucky ran his hand through his hair. “It’s just that I met Sabrina Cooper on December 22, 1944 at a dance in London. We connected and I walked her home to her flat in Chelsea. She told me her sister was going to Bath for the weekend with her guy and wanted me to spend the next couple of days with her. I was charmed by her and agreed. She ran across the road to kiss me one more time.”

“You were the soldier,” interrupted Sabrina. “She died in your arms.”

Bucky nodded. “For the past 27 days I’ve relived that night over and over, and the only thing that changes is at the end a voice says that I have so many days to prevent it from happening again. It’s been counting down from 30 days. Sam got the idea that maybe I was meant to save someone with a connection to Sabrina, and Tony’s AI came up with your name. You were born exactly 50 years after the date that Sabrina Cooper died, and your great grandmother was her sister. You live in Chelsea here in New York and your last name is London. It seemed to make sense at the time. We can leave if this bothers you.”

“You think something bad is going to happen to me?” she asked. “You came here hoping to prevent that?”

Bucky stuck his hands in his jacket pockets and shrugged. “Sounds crazy, I know.”

“It does sound crazy,” said Sabrina. “But what if I told you that for the past 27 days I’ve had a dream of a young WWII soldier, dancing with me to Bing Crosby’s version of It’s Been a Long, Long Time which is weird because it came out in October, 1945 at the same time as the Harry James version, but this dance that we’re at was just before Christmas, 1944. In this dream I distinctly remember saying to a guy who wanted to cut in that I was dancing with my fiancé. At the end of my dream a woman’s voice says I have so many days to find this soldier. It’s been counting down from 30 and reached the number 3 last night.”

The others had come over as Sabrina related her dream, looking back and forth from her to Bucky. He just looked at her, then leaned across the counter and kissed her for several moments before stepping back.

“Then I would say we found each other again, Sabrina,” he said. “We get to start over again, if you want.”

“It took us long enough, didn’t it?” she smiled. She looked at Tony. “Could you buy this building and fix it to its original glory? I’m a great tenant and you’d be helping a small business owner in the heart of New York City.”

“Sabrina Fair, it would be my delight to help a small business owner with the treasures that you have here,” he said, grinning like a schoolboy.

Six months later

Sabrina London looked up at the door as it opened to the arrival of her fiancé, the Avenger Bucky Barnes. A skiff of snow flew in as he entered. The place was full of people shopping for the perfect Christmas present and he stepped around the lineup of people at the register.

“You’re back!” she said, coming out from behind the marble topped counter as her assistant beamed.

“Wasn’t going to miss this weekend,” said Bucky, looking at his watch before kissing Sabrina. “It’s not everyday that I get married. Everything’s ready according to the wedding planner. All we have to do is say the words and we’ll be husband and wife.” He looked up and nodded to the assistant, Jenny. “You ready to let your boss go for the next two weeks?”

“Absolutely,” she said. “Go, get out of here.”

Sabrina went into the back, got her coat and purse, then pulled her boots on. Bucky helped her into her coat, making sure her scarf was covering her neck, then with a wave he opened the door again and followed his fiancée out the door. A limousine, courtesy of Tony Stark, was waiting for them and Bucky opened the door for her, before sitting inside. Nodding at the driver the couple sat back and Bucky put his arm around her shoulders.

“We have to make one more stop,” he said. “I need to practice something.”

“What?” asked Sabrina. “You said yourself everything is ready.”

“I know, but this is for me,” said Bucky. “Indulge me.”

It didn’t take long before the limousine stopped at the Rink at Rockefeller Center. The giant Christmas tree was lit up and the rink was full of skaters.

“We’re not going skating,” said Sabrina. “I don’t know how.”

“No, we’re not,” said Bucky, “but we do need to get on the ice.”

Making their way through the crowd they stepped onto the ice near the tree, where a large rubber mat had been placed. When they reached the mat the music playing for the crowd stopped and a song came on, sung by Bing Crosby.

Kiss me once, then kiss me twice

Then kiss me once again

It’s been a long, long time

A photographer took several pictures of them as the snowflakes fell and Bucky smiled at Sabrina.

“They wanted a picture and I wanted to practice our first dance,” he said. “How much more romantic is it than being under the falling snow in front of the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center? I’m so glad I found you Sabrina Fair.”

She laughed, as much at the situation as at the nickname that Tony gave her.

“I’m so glad you found me, my handsome soldier,” she replied.

The couple danced closely together on the rink in the heart of New York City, continuing the romance that began 80 years before in London during blackout conditions of a world war. It had been a long, long time but they were together now and they thanked whatever forces brought them back together, as they should have been from the start.

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Please reblog if you liked this one shot.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #buckybarnes original female character #sam wilson #steve rogers #ww2 bucky #tony stark #lost love #bucky barnes oneshot

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missjoolee · 2 years

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I was tagged by @story-courty to participate in a ‘7 sentence’ meme/challenge thing. (does anyone actually follow the rules and only post 7 sentences? I, for sure, will not) I was looking through my wips and i’m having trouble deciding which to choose, so I guess i’m gonna share two. these are still very rough draft and i can see things needing editing but am too lazy to do it at the moment. but maybe posting this will kick my motivation into gear

sea of tranquility au

Once behind the wheel, he sets his Julie playlist on shuffle before shifting into gear and heading out of the parking lot.

Luke offers his hand to her as he heads for the interstate.

"Wanna talk about it?"

She grips his hand tightly, but shakes her head. He nods in understanding, focusing on the road, absentmindedly stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. The longer they drive, the more relaxed her grip gets.

They've been driving for maybe 20 minutes when a sweet sounding hum joins the current song playing. Luke subtly flicks his gaze to the passenger seat, trying not to visibly react to the angelic tone that caresses his ears. Julie has never so much as even whistled before now. Heck, she hasn't spoken to him about music, outside of him letting her know what the band was up to, since the night he took her to the fountain. A part of him is scared that if he alerts her to it, she will stop. When the chorus of the song comes in for the second time, he accidentally taps the brakes too hard when instead of humming, she quietly sings along.

and for something a little less melancholy, untitled wip thing

A swell of affection fills his chest. When she's happy, he's happy. Simple as that. Buuuuut... he looks down at the street and then up at the sky. No lightning. Perfect. Why not increase her happiness and have some fun? He begins emptying his pockets onto the porch swing.

"What are you doing?" Julie asks, having heard his keys jingle as he set them down next to his phone.

"Gonna go play in the rain." is his response as he un-clips his wallet and chain from the belt loops. Should he take his shoes off? They will be a pain to dry but he decides that the risk of stepping onto some sort of debris on the street isn't worth the time and effort saved.

"What? Luke, we can't just--"

"Jules, we can do whatever we want," he interrupts before racing down the steps. His clothes are drenched almost immediately, but the rain is warm so he's not uncomfortable. He whips his bangs out of his eyes, creating an arc of water going up against the downpour. Spreading his arms out, he calls up to where Julie still stands on the porch. "Join me!"

"You're crazy!" she calls out to him. Her tone sounds exasperated but the smile creeping onto her face indicates he's got her hooked.

He laughs. "Aren't we all? C'mon, Boss. Live a little."

and I’m going to tag @onlygenxhere, @modernvintage and @jukeboxstan

#tag game #joolee attempts writing #joolee wips #juke #jukebox #jatp fanfic #juke fanfic

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dollycas · 10 months

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Catch Me If You Candy: A Bakeshop Mystery by Ellie Alexander #Review @StMartinsPress @BakeshopMystery

Catch Me If You Candy: A Bakeshop Mystery Cozy Mystery 17th in the Series Setting - Oregon Minotaur Books (August 22, 2023) Mass Market Paperback ‏ : ‎ 352 pages ISBN-10 ‏ : ‎ 1250854407 ISBN-13 ‏ : ‎ 978-1250854407 Kindle ASIN ‏ : ‎ B0BQGJGX34

Things are getting spooky in Catch Me If You Candy, the next delicious installment in the Bakeshop Series from author Ellie Alexander, set in Ashland, Oregon! Halloween has arrived in picturesque Ashland, Oregon, and all of the ghouls and goblins have descended on Main Street for the annual parade. It’s a giant street party and Torte is right in the mix. Jules Capshaw and her team have been baking up autumn delights and trick-or-Torte bags filled with sugar cookie cutouts, spiced cider, and mummy munch. It’s the end of the season at the Oregon Shakespeare Festival, which means that the costumes for the parade are going to be out of this world. The elaborate guises even extend to pets. The grand marshal of this year’s parade is no other than a regal pug aptly named King George. Jules is delighted to get to share the experience with Carlos and Ramiro, but things take a dark turn when she discovers a dragon slumped in front of the bakeshop. Jules is distraught when she realizes the dragon is dead. She’s also shaken because a few days before the parade, her mother's Mahjong partner Helen discovered a warning note about a dragon in an antique game set. Jules hopes it’s just a random coincidence, but as the clues begin to unfold it becomes evident that there’s been a murder on All Hallow’s Eve. Can Juliet sift out the truth before the killer comes after her? Dollycas's Thoughts Halloween is a big deal in Ashland, Oregon. It starts with the annual parade followed by a huge street party. The team at Torte has been busy filling trick-or-Torte bags with mummy munch and Halloween-themed sugar cookies. It also marks the end of the Oregon Shakespeare Festival's season and the actors, human and canine, will be involved in all the Halloween festivities. This year's grand marshall just happens to be a royal pup named King George. Jules is so excited to share all the events with her husband Carlos and his son Ramiro. There is quite a crowd of people but when Jules and Carlos arrive back at Torte. Then they notice a person in a dragon costume down on the ground in front of the shop. Jules quickly sees that the person is dead. She is quite upset because just a few days ago one of her mother's friends found a note warning about a dead dragon in an antique Mahjong set. Is it a connection to the murder or just a coincidence? Jules is determined to find out. I love the characters in this series! Jules and Carlos's relationship is strong. I am happy that Ramiro has been added to the mix and his presence continues to grow in each new story. He is a good kid and parenting him is pretty easy. Thanks to Jules's mother, a true gem, all the employees at Torte are as close as family. They work so well together and come up with so many delicious things to serve from special coffee drinks to soups and sandwiches and every fantastic baked sweets you can imagine. The Sunday suppers they host are so creative. All of Ms. Alexander's characters are well-developed and genuine and fresh even after 17 books. Several new characters are introduced. Actors and staff associated with the Oregon Shakespeare Festival. It was crazy to see what two women would go through to have their dogs get the leading role in a play. We also meet a group of ladies that love to play Mahjong and Camille the new owner of the hospice shop where a unique antique Mahjong set was found. All the new characters were interesting. I must say I now want to learn how to learn to play Mahjong. The mystery was very well-written. There are several suspects along with several twists and turns. I was keeping notes to keep everyone straight. I did pare my list down to two rather quickly. As usual, Lance was excited to investigate but I did enjoy the way Jules and Carlos talked through the clues and motives. A bit of confusion sets up a standoff and a very gripping reveal. Catch Me If You Candy is a fun Halloween-themed cozy mystery with some of my favorite fictional characters. Each visit to Ashland and Torte is always a good time, I just wish each book came with free samples because I am always left craving all the delectable treats described within the pages. I am already looking forward to my next trip, A Smoking Bun is set to be released on February 20, 2024.

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About the Author Ellie Alexander (aka Kate Dyer-Seeley), author of the Bakeshop Mystery Series (St. Martin's Press), is a Pacific Northwest native who spends ample time testing pastry recipes in her home kitchen or at one of the many famed coffeehouses nearby. When she’s not coated in flour, you’ll find her outside exploring hiking trails and trying to burn off calories consumed in the name of research. Author Links - Website Facebook Twitter Instagram GoodReads

Coming February 20, 2024

Also by Ellie Alexander

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gayfanfic1999 · 1 year

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Euphoric Dick

A Eurotic Story of Elliot & Fezco From Euphoria

Part 1:

By: Thomas Brooks

*Elliot*

I just left Rue’s house walking down the empty streets wondering if I just made the worst mistake of my life. I thought telling Jules about Rue’s relapse was the right thing to do, but now I wasn’t sure. My face still burned from where Rue had slapped me.

How could I ruin the only two friendships that I had?

Would Rue ever talk to me again, or would Jules ever not look at me and feel betrayed?

Not only that, Rue had the right to know that Jules and I had been sneaking around her back all this time. I know I’m far from innocent and seemed to be the catalyst for all the things that had happened.

All that being said deep down I missed Jules. The soft touch of her lips on my lips, her neck, or when she would slowly lick her way from my collarbone to my ear nibbling on it. Whispering all the dirty things she wanted to do to me. The way her perky tits felt in my hands, or how hard her nipples would get when I touched them. Low moans escaped her lips as our tongues wrapped around each other, hot and wet. Most of all, and probably the most complex part was the way I missed how hard Jules’s dick would get, and the way it ground against my own hard cock.

I had never given much thought to my sexuality. I've always been attracted to girls, but never really thought of guys before. Someone as unique as Jules really opened my eyes to thoughts about

Stroking a dick…

Sucking on it…

Maybe even letting Fu…

My dick twitched in my and throbbed a bit at the thought of that. I let the image leave my mind. That night when I had told Jules about Rue. She had been wearing nothing, but his old tattered band T-shirt and a pair of panties. Those panties showed off her perky ass and outlined her bulge.

“Why the fuck did I have to open my fucking mouth?” I grumbled. The first words that had left my mouth in the past 3 hours.

I finally looked up and realized that I had been walking with no real no destination in mind. I reached for my phone only to realize that the battery was dead.

“ Fuck my life.” I sighed.

I was in a place where I wasn’t too familiar with a dead phone, far from home, with no friend to turn to, and the sky was getting darker by the minute. Soon it was going to be pitch black, and I was all alone.

After walking for another thirty minutes or so I saw a gas station three buildings down the road. I hadn’t eaten all day, and still probably couldn’t eat after everything that had gone down. That being said, I could definitely use something to drink. Hell if I was lucky I could steal some liquor and drink my problems away.

As I approached the entrance of the gas station. I looked around, seeing it to be empty. As I walked in, the only other person I saw was a man with piercing blue eyes, a buzzed head, and a well-groomed beard. The guy was staring down at his phone and barely looked up as I walked in. I then made my way through the aisles. Trying not to look suspicious as I made my way to the back to the coolers. I casually opened the cooler and grabbed a 24-pack of some random beer. I really didn’t care what. I just wanted to get fucked up. Then I slowly made my way through the aisles. Acting like I was interested in some chips when I made a run for the door. Before I could touch it I felt a gun barrel on the back of my head.

*Fezco*

I already have been having a pretty shit night. Ashtray had killed a man, Faye had been driving me crazy, and most annoyingly of all Lexie still hasn’t put out. So the amount of anger I had at seeing this scrawny little blonde mother fucker steal from me was the icing on the cake.

“ You must have a fucking death with wish. Coming in here and stealing from me bitch.” I said, my voice audibly pissed.

I saw the guy start to shake and turn slowly to look at me. His eyes stared directly at him. As I looked at him I couldn’t help but smirk.

“ Yo with the hell. I know I’m not about to get robbed by a mf with a fucking Apple logo tatted on his face.” I said, almost laughing.

I could tell the guy was scared and probably wondering if I was going to shoot.

“Look, man! Here take it! I’m sorry, please don’t shoot!” The thief said pure terror in his eyes.

“ Wait a minute don’t I know you? You’re one of Rue’s friends right.”

“I guess you could say that. My name is Elliot.” He said. Voice barely above a whisper.

I could tell by his face there was something there. Yes I know I was holding a gun to Elliot’s face, but more than that. There was pain there long before he walked into my store. I then lowered the gun and pointed at Elliot to follow me.

“ You’re not going to kill me are you?” Elliot asked, his voice full of fear again.

“ No. Well, at least not right now. Come with me, and bring the beers.” I said.

I then flipped the sign on the door, turned off the lights, and locked up. I led Elliot up the stairs to the apartment right above the gas station. I dropped the keys on the kitchen table and waited for Elliot to walk in before shutting and locking all five locks on the door. Elliot stood there staring at him with fear in his eyes.

“This is just percussion, because of my Uhm well… side hustle. I ain’t going to kill you.” I said, reaching out and taking the beers from Elliot’s hands.

I walked over to the couch and sat down and gestured to Elliot to do the same. I watched as Elliot sat down, knees shaking up and down. Then I opened the pack of beer, cracked one open, and passed it over to Elliot.

“ Here drink this man. It looks like you need it.” I laughed.

“ Thanks, man,” Elliot said nervously chuckling.

I cracked another beer and started to sip from it. I sighed in relief at its cool smooth taste. When I looked over at Elliot he was also drinking from his beer. I could tell something was up. I want to know what the fuck happened, and how the fuck he ended up here.

“ Now I said I wasn’t going to kill you, but I think you have some fucking explaining to do. I can tell something’s fucking with your mind.”

*Elliot*

So I did. I told Fez everything. About Rue and the fight that broke out. About Jules and I. I don’t know why it was so easy talking to him. This guy literally had a gun pointed at my head less than an hour ago. I’m my head I couldn’t believe I was so stupid to forget that I had met him at new years just before he beat the fuck out of that Nate kid. To be fair though I was fucking high as fuck on who knows what. Not to mention making sure Rue didn’t die. As we talked he just listened and didn’t say anything. After 10 more minutes of spilling my guts, the room went quiet for what felt like an eternity.

I then looked up from the floor finally meeting my eyes. Shit his eyes. The way they stared into my own was so piercing as if he was seeing directly into my mind. It sent chills down my body because damn Fez was hot.

“Damn that’s fucked up. You fucked up man, but also I think in the long run did the right thing about Rue. Now fucking Jules. That’s fucked up man.” Fez said. Voice not mad just matter of fact.

“ I didn’t fuck her we..” I started.

“ Did she fuck you?” Fez asks in a curious voice.

I looked back at him and then slowly started to look down when I briefly looked down at his gray sweatpants. He wasn’t hard or anything, but I could see a thick long imprint of his dick. That one glance made my dick start to twitch in my jeans. My cock slowly grew at the sight of that big dick beautifully outlined in those gray sweats.

“Did she fuck you?” Fez asks again, voice more forceful.

I blushed. My head clouded with the thought.

“ Uhm no, but I’ve thought about letting her.”

Why the fuck did I say that to him? He just has this aura about him. It makes me feel safe and willing to do or say anything he says.

“ Hey man. No judgment. We all got the shit we like.” Fez says with a chuckle in his voice.

“ You’re probably one of the coolest guys I’ve met. I’m sorry about earlier… I seem to just want to fuck over all of Rue’s friends.” My voice shaking

“ Man. You alright yourself. Just don’t do that shit again.” Chuckling under his breath.

I look back up at him, and he’s still staring at me. I can’t make out the look on his face…

*Fezco*

Shit, I’m fucked up. I had been drinking just before Elliot had come into the store. Smoked a few blunts, and now five beers with Elliot. When Elliot was talking about him in Jules I couldn’t help, but get a little turned on by it. I mean shit. I haven’t been laid in a month. I haven’t even had time to jerk off with all the shi,t going on. Now I’m not gay or nothing, but hey as a drug dealer, there are some hidden perks besides the money. When people are short on money sometimes I let them pay it back in other ways. I don’t care about gender as long as they suck dick good. For a moment there I swear I saw him stare at my dick.

Maybe this night I can get a little action after all. As I was thinking about it I just stared at Elliot, my dick starting to twitch a little bit in my sweats. Pulsing and growing longer. I had a little plan to see if I could get Elliot’s mouth around my dick.

“ Hey man, do you mind if I turn on some porn? I ask as nonchalantly as possible.

I look over at Elliot who is staring at me. Something in his eyes was so intense. I saw him lick his lips and then quickly looked down at my crotch. I know he could see my increasingly growing cock. Now everything depends on his response.

“Sure Fez I don't mind. Maybe some release is just what we need after the days we've had.” a nervous laugh in Elliot's voice.

I got up from the couch making sure to adjust my dick, so Elliot could see just how hard my dick was getting. I then looked through my porn DVDs to see what would best fit the moment. I settled on a double-penetration movie. Where the two guys sometimes touch each other, and even a scene where the guy is sucking another guy's dick while he fucks into this tight girl's wet pussy. Her tits bouncing as she rides his cock. I put the movie in the DVD player and bead back to the couch.

As I head back to the couch the movie is already playing, but I see Elliot only starting at my half-erect penis. I decide to make it twitch a bit, and see him instantly blush and look at the tv. This was going to be easier than I thought. I sit back on the couch and take another sip from my 11th beer. As the movie plays I notice Elliot adjusting his jeans. His bulge pressing dangerously against the denim. My cock is hard and fucking throbbing. I know I have to play it cool, but I also know I have to make the first move.

I slowly start to stroke my dick threw my sweats. Letting a low moan leave my throat. Out of the corner of my eye, I see him watching eyes locked on me stroking my cock through my pants that leave nothing to the imagination. I slowly lower my pants. Knowing his eyes are still locked on my cock. I lower them just enough so I can reach in and grab my throbbing dick. I pull it out and start to slowly stroke it. I go to glance at him and his eyes quickly snap back to the porn. Where the girl right now is sucking on one of the guy's cock while stroking the other.

I hear the sound of Elliot unsnapping his jeans. Then the sound of his zipper slowly unzipping. Seconds later I side-eye him to see that he pulled out his cock. It's uncut and probably around 8 inches long. Not bad at all, but mine was definitely thicker and longer than his by a couple of inches. I evert my glance from him focusing on the porn. I begin stroking my dick that is dying to explore the inside of his thick lips, and wet tongue.

About 15 minutes into the movie I can't take it anymore. I look over at him again and these there staring at me fuck my hand with my cock. His hand stroking his dick so fast that his balls are slapping on his thighs. I see no shame in his eyes as he watches me jerk off his eyes full of lust and want. Now was the time.

“ Are you just going to look at it, or are you going to come over and suck my dick?” I ask voice husky and full of need.

*Elliot*

Did I hear him right? Did he want me to suck his dick? It was such a beautiful dick. It had to be at least 9 inches long and so thick. His balls looked so full and hung so low.

“ Uhm what?” I ask. My voice was thick and shaking.

“ I said, are you just going to stare at it, or are you going to come over and suck my dick?”

So many thoughts are in my head right now. Is this what I wanted? Of course, it was. I've been staring at his cock for the past 20 minutes. So I pushed all the doubt out of my head and slowly moved closer to him on the couch.

I slowly bent over eyes locked on him as I got closer to his cock. I could feel the heat radiating from his cock as I got closer. As I looked at it I could see just how hard it was. I could see the thick vein that ran from the base to the beginning of the tip of his cock head. His uncut cock was leaking precum that had flowed a lot the way down to the base of his cock.

What do I do and how to start? I could feel his hot breath on the back of my neck. I then grabbed his cock. Fez let out a sharp gasp as I did. His dick twitching possibly getting even harder. I slowly start to stroke his dick. Picking up the speed as I gain confidence. I then decided to spit on his tip to get his dick wet as I stroked him faster.

The hormones in me were at a new-time high and all fear left my body. I then licked the long vein up his cock until infested his tip. I licked his tip again and again. Then I swallowed the tip of his dick. I tasted the salty-sweet tang of his precum and my saliva. As soon as I started it felt so right having his dick in my mouth. I slowly started to swallow more and more, testing just how much I could fit in my mouth.

Fez gasped as my mouth was halfway down his cock. I choked as his cock hit the back of my throat. Saliva pouring from my lips coating his balls. I tried to come up for air, but he wrapped his hand through my hair. Pushing me deeper on his cock. I gagged choking as he started fucking my face. His balls slapping against my face as he thrust inside my mouth. So it felt like I was going to pass out until he lifted my head off his dick. I gasped for air as spit and precum gushed from my mouth right back down on his dick and balls.

Then he forced me back down on his cock fucking my face again. My dick leaked precum all over my hand as I stroked myself.

This felt so right. Having Fez fuck my face. Me gagging and tearing up with the force of his thrusts. I wanted more, I needed more. I forced myself further until my lips touched his trimmed pubes. He held me there, not allowing me to come up. Thrusting deeper into my mouth. His balls brushed my chin. He then let me up for air, more saliva dripping from my mouth.

“ Fuck me Fez. I want to feel you inside of me.” I gasped.

*Fezco*

Fuck man I've never fucked a dude before. I mean sure I've let a few blow me when they were late on a payment or didn't have their money upfront. However, there was something in his voice that made me want to do it. The lust in his eyes. The raspiness of his voice. I wonder if he's ever sucked dick before because of the way he just let me fuck his face. My dick was just getting harder than I ever thought possible.

“ Turn around and bend over,” I said so forcefully and thickly it even surprised me.

He did just that. I watched as Elliot bent over all fours his perky ass right in front of me. His dick was leaking precum all over the couch. A large stain was visible of just aroused. His smooth round ass calling for me to tantalizingly. I slapped his ass which in return let out a long moan that made my dick throb even harder. I realized more than anything I wanted to taste him. I wanted to spread his ass open and lick his tight fucking hole so bad. So I forcefully grabbed his hips and pulled him closer to me spreading his ass open. Exposing his beautiful pink hole.

I trailed my finger around his hole. Stretching it a lot just to see it spread more for me. As I bent down to taste I could feel the heat of his ass and smell the sweat and his arousal. It drove me insane how submissive he was being to me. I slowly licked from his balls to his taint. Licking back and forth. Elliot let out these tiny groans and gasps when I would get close to his hole. Soon I couldn't help it I forced my tongue into his ass. His body rejected it at first before slowly opening up to my tongue. He moaned loudly, knees shaking from the pressure.

Something about his moans gave me so much confidence that I started fucking his hole with my tongue. Trying to fuck deeper and deeper into him. All I could hear him say was.

“ Yes, Fez right there.” Or “ fuck yeah.”

Mostly though it was just moans and gasp as I explored deeper. Soon he was thrusting his ass deeper. Fucking my tongue with his ass. After a while, I came up for air. My mouth was covered in spit and the taste of his sweet hole.

“Fuck me Fez fuck me. I want to feel you inside of me. Every inch of that cock.”

I spit on his hole and tried working a finger into his, but it was so tight.

“ Relax for me. You gotta open up for me Elliot.” I said in a voice full of want.

He arched his back spreading his legs wider for me. Soon my first finger sank into his ass. Elliot let out a hiss of pain, but instead of pushing away, he pushed further until my whole finger was swallowed by his tight hole.

“ Fuck yeah just like that Elliot.” I groaned, my voice almost too eager for what I knew we were about to do.

He fucked my finger still moaning from the burn he undoubtedly felt from it. After he seemed to be comfortable with one. I slid it out. Tasting my fingers so I get more of his sweet scent on my tongue. I then spit on his hole and tried working two into his ass. The moans that escaped him kept my dick rock hard. This time I was more forceful. Eager to fuck him I pushed deeper into his has with my fingers. Fucking him forcefully while holding his waist so he couldn't escape. Soon he was rocking his hips into the thrusts moaning softly.

“Fuck me Fez please I need it. Give it to me. I'm ready.” Elliot gasped.

*Elliot*

I couldn't take anymore I need him to slide his dick in me and fuck me. Yes, it would burn. It probably hurt, but what I realized is that I got a thrill from him fucking my face until I couldn't breathe or forcing his fingers deep inside my hole.

“Are you sure you're ready?” Fez asked. His voice hitching at my demand.

“ Yes, I'm sure Fez. Fuck me. I need to feel u...”

Before I could finish my words I felt his strong hands on my way and him pulling me back. I felt a wet hard pressure on my hole. It burned so badly as Fez tried to force his way inside me. I grabbed onto the couch armrest trying to relax into it. Fez grabbed my hips even tighter forcing the head of his cock threw my hole. I could feel my asshole spreading trying to engulf his dick. He pushed further in and I gasped and tried to push back from the pressure but he sunk his hand into my waist even harder so I was planted there.

“ Fuck you're so fucking tight.” he gasped

“ Relax for me you got it.” he rumbled

I grit my teeth but tried to relax more to allow more of his cock in my hole. I felt his cock slowly slide deeper into my ass until he reaches my prostate. My breath hitches and the pain is no longer there as pleasure encompasses my body. I let out a deep moan and relax even more on his cock.

Fez can feel my body open up to him and begins to slowly stroke in and out of my ass. The feeling of his cock sliding in and out of my ass makes my knees even weaker.

After a few minutes of him carefully fucking him I can feel him picking up speed. His strokes are getting longer and deeper. His cock moved past my prostate. Deeper and deeper until I feel his balls slapping on my ass. The grip he has on my waist is so strong I know it will leave marks, but I don't care. Soon I'm matching his strokes by rocking my hips with his thrust.

I can't believe I went this long without knowing what it was like to be fucked like this. I could blame it on the alcohol, but I knew I've wanted this for a while now. We finally have a strong fast past going. The only sounds are his grunts, my moans, my wet hole, and his big juicy balls slapping against my taint.

“ I want to ride you Fez,” I say in a starry haze.

Without hesitation, he picks me up and rolls me on his cock so that I'm now on top of him. I first start slowly teasing his tip as we look into each other's eyes. My cock dripping on his chest. I can tell he getting frustrated and in a act of retaliation he pushes me down hard and on his cock and I let out a gasp of pain.

“ Stop playing games with me and ride this dick.” He demands.

His eyes are locked on mine and I know we want the same thing. I start to bounce on his dick picking up the pace. My own dick slapping against his chest. Our strokes are fast and deep and see something in his that tells me he’s close. I can feel my own orgasim start to rise in me.

“ Fuck Elliot I’m going to cum” he gasps as he hold my waist.

“ Me too I’m so close Fez.” I moan.

He then lifts me off his cock and throws me on my back. Lifting my legs he fucks deep into me. There's no rhythm to it, just desperation and need. I put my hand on my cock and start to stroke my cock feverishly. I felt vain along his dick pulse as he moaned and filled me with come. He was still fucking me as seconds later I cummed all over my chest. Letting out a loud moan as it happens.

After we catch our breath he slides his dick out of me. We both let out a horse laugh. When theres a pounding on the door.

“ Fez let me in.” Came a muffled voice

“Let me in Fez right now.” Louder then before

The pounding on the door was getting louder and more desperate and in the next second I knew it was Rue. My face drained of color as soon as I realized. Fezco dressed quickly and threw my clothes at me, ushering me to the bathroom and that’s where I stayed. Filled and covered in cum as my friend who hated me barged into the house…

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