#fem rome

[abilai]

Live forever

[balletfilmss]

just imagining being all cuddled up with jason grace in his dorm at new rome on a stormy afternoon. wearing his scent-infused hoodie that’s too big while both your legs are buried underneath fluffy blankets, limbs all tangled together to trap in the heat. a comfort movie playing in front of you as the rain pelts the windows and thunder booms in the background. his strong arms tightening around you each time you flinch at a particularly loud crack of lightning. his stupid jokes about his dad being pissed off that he tells just to make you giggle. eventually falling asleep in his embrace and him just admiring your face before pressing a loving kiss to your temple and nodding off himself, happy as ever.

[ssaaaronmontgomery]

TW: SOMNOPHILIA (READER GAVE THEIR CONSENT AT AN EARLIER TIME)

Aaron can't take his mind off of you the entire way home from a week long case in Portland. That's seven long days and nights he's had to make do with his fist and a bottle of lotion, just imagining it was you. You've been working night shifts and weren't able to facetime with him like you usually would when he''s away and you're both feeling needy.

He drops his go-bag at the door of your shared apartment, shrugging off his jacket and toeing off his shoes, leaving a trail of clothing towards the bedroom. After 7 night shifts in a row this week, there's no doubt in Aaron's mind about just where he'll find you, it's 3am and he knows how hard you have to try to change your sleeping schedule after a week like this. He breathes out a sigh of relief at the sight of your sleeping form, buried under the covers in the middle of the bed, you're face down, with your nose buried in his pillow, no doubt breathing in his scent, letting it comfort you in his absence.

You left the nightlights in the hall and at the foot of the bed on for him, and his heart warms at just how thoughtful you are of him stumbling around in the dark. But the warmth in his chest is nothing compared to the heat in his cheeks after he has shed the rest of his suit and peeled back the layers of blankets over you to reveal your beautiful ass, covered only by a thin pair of lace panties, and positioned perfectly for him to admire it.

He feels himself pitching a tent in his boxers as he recalls a conversation the two of you had quite early in your relationship, about how you wouldn't mind the other person waking you however they deemed appropriate, or them using you however they need to. He sits back on his haunches behind you in the bed and palms himself at the thought of bring inside of you, finally inside of you after seven long days. He knows this can't wait til the morning, the weariness deep in his bones nothing compared to the fire now burning in his belly as he runs his hand over your thigh, checking how deeply you're sleeping. He slinks back to the doorway where he had discarded his tie, taking it back to the bed and tying your wrists gently together behind your back. Not tight enough to hurt, but certainly enough to hold them together.

He sheds himself of the last layer of clothing, hissing when his strained cock hits his stomach, snapping free from his waistband. He knows exactly how he's going to take you.

He drops to his elbows, making just enough space between your legs for him to lay behind you, and he licks a long stripe up your slit, from your clothed clit all the way up to your hole. He feels his hips move against the bed of their own volition as he gets his first taste of you, even through your panties. He loses his control then, quick to pull your panties down your legs, leaving them around one ankle in his hurry to taste you properly, like a man starved.

He starts slowly, suckling and nibbling at your clit and your folds, before you start shifting against him in your sleep, which only stirs him on. He uses his hands to spread you open so he can dive in, his tongue exploring everywhere it can reach inside of you. When he feels your walls start constricting around his tongue he knows you're close and he moans, loudly. The deep sound causing further vibrations throughout your body as your arms start moving above him, your fingertips finding his hair as you awake with a series of groans. Your sounds only cause Aaron's hips to start grinding against the bed as he continues his onslaught on your pussy.

Aaron knows you, and he can tell from your writhing that you're close but you need more, so he runs his fingers through your slick, coating his digits before he slips one into your greedy cunt. You let out a long moan as he adds a second, and begins curling them against you. He's very upset that all your sounds are being muffled by the pillow you're pressing your face into but his disappointment is countered when you manage to grab at his hair, tugging it. He speeds up his frenzied attack with his mouth and fingers working in tandem to bring you to the edge, before he replaces his fingers with his tongue once more, bringing his thumb to circle your clit furiously, his attempts to reach deeper into you are only causing the tip of his nose to toy playfully with your ass. This causes your grip on his hair to border on painful as you scream into your pillow, pulling at his roots, and he can taste your release on his tongue.

He rides you out through the waves of your orgasm before he pulls back, panting, and only now realising how badly he's strained his jaw in his attempts to lap up every drop of your slick. Now that he's sure you're ready, he kneels again, shuffling up behind you and using his mess covered hand to pump his leaking cock, knowing he doesn't need any more lubrication, having already coated his entire chin and nose in your juices.

He picks your hips up, sliding his pillow underneath you, so that you're at a higher angle for him, as he comes up behind you, peppering your back with kisses on his way up. He still has the full body urge to pound you into the mattress just so he can feel your vice grip on his cock once more, but now that you're awake he wants to make sure you're okay with this.

"What a way to wake a girl up, Aaron. Welcome home indeed." You laugh, as his stubble tickles at your neck, and he places kisses behind your ear.

"I've been thinking about stuffing you full of my cock for over 180 hours now, but who's counting?" Your hips stir at both his raspy, horny, sleep deprived voice in your ears and at the thought of his leaking cock finally making its home in your cunt once again.

"Well, don't stop on my account, please. Take everything you need." Aaron can feel your arms trying to free themselves from his tie but he needs no further encouragement as he pumps his cock once, twice more, lining it up with your entrance before he pauses to tease your clit with his head, flicking it and collecting the last dripping beads of your slick on his shaft. He hears you almost whimper in anticipation, but he can't hear you clearly enough. He tugs on your tied wrists, pulling you back against him so your face is off the pillow.

"Be sure to let me hear you, little girl. You know how daddy feels about you voicing your pleasure, don't you?"

"Yes! Yes, sir, just please, please fuck me already!" You practically cry, and Aaron knows he's done for, as if he could ever say no to you.

In one swift motion, he begins burying himself to the hilt, letting out a rather loud groan at the feeling of your hot, wet, spasming pussy stretching to accomodate his size, like always. He keeps one hand gripping at your wrists as his other hand takes you by the hip, pulling to ensure he's as deep as he can reach, allowing you just a minute to adjust before he starts moving, slowly at first. But hard thrusts, making sure the very tip of his dick collides beautifully with your g-spot each time. He feels your walls clench around him when he does and he knows he's not going to last very long at all, so he'd better make this worthwhile. He speeds up, pulling out to the last inch before pounding his length back into you, hearing a whine escape your mouth each time he buries himself inside you.

He's close, too close, after a week of fucking his fist with nothing but the topless polaroid he keeps of you in his wallet to help him, he's completely drowning in the pleasure of the real thing, of your tight pussy clamping down around his throbbing cock. He pulls your wrists further back against him, using his hand under your hip to guide your torso to be pushing back against his, now sitting back on your knees, he's almost fucking up into you now, letting gravity do his back a favour by pulling you back down on top of him after each thrust. Now, his free hand snakes around to your clit, quickly starting to rub tight circles on it in the way he knows will always get your thighs rubbing together in no time. The sounds in the room can only be described as pornographic, his balls clapping against your folds and the wet squelch of your mixed pleasure each time he stuffs you with his cock.

You're quick to release a string of curses along with Aaron's name as he can feel every vein in his neck straining, he must be practically purple trying to not spill his seed until you've cum around his cock once more. He feels your telltale bucking of your hips as the first wave of your second orgasm washes over you and he lets out a massive breath, before almost screaming your name as his thrusts become messier and his spasming cock paints your insides with hot white ropes of his cum.

It takes him almost two minutes to regain the ability to breathe and speak, and as the sound of thrumming blood in his ears gives way to normal sound, he can hear your sweet voice soothing him, telling him what a good boy he is and how well he did for you. He can feel your poor hands still pinned between the two of you playing with the hair beneath his belly button, making him realise he still needs to help you out. He unties your wrists, apologising for being so lost in his own pleasure that your poor shoulders must be aching.

"It's okay, Aaron, I was too far gone to even feel anything straining."

"Good, that's good." he says quietly, still clearly frazzled from just how hard his orgasm had hit him. He's softening inside you as he moves the two of you to lay on your side, and he pulls out. With a kiss on your shoulder, he pads off to the bathroom, returning with two wet washcloths. One to clean the growing sticky messes between both of your thighs and another for his face, still coated in your slick.

He discards the washcloths back by the basin and crawls into bed, caging you in his arms and declaring that he will never ever let you work that many night shifts in a row again, he just misses you too much. You can only form half the words to assure him you missed him every bit as much, as your sentence trails off and you drift back to your slumber, now much more content, sleeping in his arms.

This post is nsfw minors DNI****

Okay so this has been sitting in my inbox for a good while and I didn't know how to respond to it. So I have decided not to add anything because this is just an entire smut fic on its own.

I'll add warnings but of course I can't add the read more feature.

Warnings: Smut, somnophilia, p in v sex, unprotected sex, oral (fem receiving), reader is tied, masturbation, I think that's it but let me know if I missed anything.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau @ssamorganhotchner @mrs-ssa-hotch @canuck-eh @luvehotch @callm3c0nfus3d @ivyflowers13 @randomuserrs

Hotch: @14buddy22 @pastanoodles11 @htchnr

[bed-chemist]

all-american bitch ★ faceclaims

Liberty Washington

Ryan Destiny

Agent Jordan

Michael B. Jordan (himself: secret service au)

Ellis Washington

Marsai Martin

Agent Idris

Damson Idris (himself: secret service au)

Hudson Washington

Caleb McLaughlin

Agent Flynn

Rome Flynn (himself: secret service au)

[desire-mona]

oh gale hansen responded to your tweet? thats cute... dylan kussmans sister misgendered me one time

[smolvenger]

Twenty-Seven Wounds (Coriolanus x fem! Reader)

Summary: In ancient times, in a place that calls itself Rome, you find yourself married to the general Caius Martius or Coriolanus. He has fought so many battles he has twenty-seven scars on his body. Scars that he has not shown you yet...

Word Count: 3K

Warnings: Mentions of sex but no actual smut, discussions of war, violence. Drunkenness and brief harassment but the asshole is put in his place. Grumpy and Sunshine trope. I do my best to write Caius accurately. But at the end of the day, it's MY indulgent fic and here he's a big tough warmonger who becomes a simp that kisses the ground his cinnamon roll wife walks on. References to the play and to ancient Roman customs and words. A fake kidnapping.

Word Count: 3K

Taglist: @evelyn-kingsley @jennyggggrrr @five-miles-over @fictive-sl0th @ladycamillewrites @villainousshakespeare @holdmytesseract @eleniblue @twhxhck @lokisgoodgirl @lovelysizzlingbluebird @raqnarokr @holymultiplefandomsbatman @michelleleewise @wolfsmom1 @cheekyscamp @mochie85 @muddyorbsblr

A03//My Ko-Fi//My Etsy Shop//Masterlist//Wattpad

“General Martius has asked me for your hand in marriage and I consented,” your father announced.

Your vision went dizzy. You had to sit down. You knew many things about General Caius Martius, otherwise known as Coriolanus since his great victory in the land of Corioles. 

As you sat back down to process the news, you recounted every instance of interaction. You met him in the chariot races. Menenius introduced you to each other- the senator's bald head shining like a crown and his chest as puffed as a peacock's.

"This is the great General Martius! And General- this is the lady Y/N-isn't she one of our city's great beauties, hm?"

"Sir! Uh-I-thank you!" you replied, very flustered and surprised he would say that.

General Martius made no reply. Only a polite greeting.

You talked with him at dinners. The odd banquet or party. Saw him in the audience of the Gladiator fights, plays, or chariot races.

But Caius was no run-of-the-mill man. He was a renowned general in the army and known as the fiercest warrior Rome could wish for. Notoriously ferocious on a battlefield. A man who breathed war. He was also notorious for his arrogance and stubbornness and sometimes his anger. You knew he was sensitive to smells- his nose would often crinkle as he walked by the streets.  You knew his mother, Volumina. You knew he enjoyed the Gladiator fights. Though you sometimes turned away when it got too gruesome. If it was too much, he would escort you out. When you came to chariot races, he would be there.

He was still an incredibly attractive man- dark reddish-blonde hair. Beautiful blue eyes. Tall, broad, and striking. When the betrothal was confirmed, he visited where you stayed. Your father joined your hands together. He held them with a delicacy. He then brought them up and kissed them.

“Y/N…I promise you-I will be an honorable husband. You will be protected. You will want for nothing. And they will revere you as they do for me.”

He brought you a little closer so that your hands became entwined. You were not scared of marrying him. No- what scared you was that you were not scared. What scared you was how badly you wanted to marry him. You should have been frustrated that your father agreed to the match without consulting you. All fathers had complete and total say over their children’s marriages…but you were not angry in the least.

“You will be…gentle to me, Caius?” you asked quietly.

“Yes. Yes, I will,” he replied. He placed another hand over yours.

“Ah! What a pretty picture! Come- let us make an offering to the household gods! Let us pray for a blessing for our Y/N and her warrior groom!” your father announced, rubbing his hands together. 

Your wedding happened not too long after. It seemed your family was in a rush to have a connection to the wealthy and famous general.

After the ceremony at the temple of Hera, all of you sat down at your house to a feast. Caius- no, no longer “General Martius” or “General Coriolanus” but just Caius!- sat down next to you. He leaned back and kept an arm around you, his hand rubbing against the side of your arm.

One guest with more wine in his body than decency spittled something that made your stomach curl in offense. He staggered before your seat and pointed a finger at you. 

“Ah! Where can I get a twin of this pretty nymph like Martius’s? Hm? Her breasts will look even better without her wedding gown over them!”

Before you could say a word, Caius lept to his feet. He ran before the drunkard and yanked him by the collar to his face. 

“You will speak with respect to the wife of a general or you will remain quiet!” he barked at the rude guest. 

The room went quiet. You knew if the impulse struck him, Caius would get out his sword and have the bastard sliced in half. The man began to tremble and utter apologies as a friend of his took him away.

“Everyone…let’s have some music now! Before we close the feast-I think it would soothe everyone!” you announced.

Glancing at the musicians frozen with their lyres, they began to play again. You returned to your seat as did your new husband.

“Would you have be different than I am, Y/N?” he whispered to you.

“You were only protecting me…how could I be angry at you or want you different?” you asked.

You gave him a peck on the cheek. He blinked rapidly. You saw him turn bright red and his frown melted into a tiny smile. 

Right as the feast started to wind down, your heart began to drum in your chest. There was the staged kidnapping- for all of Rome knew that the best bride was a maiden who was unwillingly taken from home. So every consenting bride had to pretend as a ceremony for the end of the celebrations. Put on a show good enough to fool the gods for luck.

Getting up from the table, Caius went to the other end of the room to exit through the door. Your mother put her arms around you. He then stormed in on cue like in a Euripedian tragedy.

“This house has something I want! Give me Y/N or I will kill every being who keeps me from her!” he announced in pretense. 

 You could feel yourself trying not to laugh. Your own mother was trying a forced frown.

“Please- mother- don’t let the General take me!” you wailed dutifully.

He went up with his sword out so others stepped back. Then he sheathed it and looked at you, licking his lips.

“I am here! I claim this woman- she is mine now- for my house and my bed!” he declared. 

He took you easily from your mother’s arms and then slung you over his shoulders. You let out a brief squeal- trying to make your laughter sound like tears.

“Mother! Mother! Help!” you cried out in pretend. Glad no one could see your smile as he carried you out. And especially glad you could still ogle his pert behind from where you were dangling for the rest of the “kidnapping.”

He carried you down the streets over his shoulder. Then when you arrived at his place, he transferred you so that he carried you with an arm over your back and the other supporting your legs. For it was bad luck for a young bride to trip. And he kept you in his arms as he ignored his mother and the slaves greeting him and took you straight to his bedroom without a word. Everyone gave each other a look and then went on with their business. 

Caius’s restraint left him as soon as he entered that room. He set you on your feet and then grabbed you. He kissed you so much you could already feel his tongue inside.

“Gods, you are mine now…” he whispered.

He held you so close. You could feel his heat, his desperation, his need to have you. He kept a hand on your back and kept you close. You were getting wet with each touch of his.

He went down to the belt that held your dress. It was tied in a special knot for today- The knot of chastity. And symbolically, one only your husband was allowed to undo. Your heart raced as he began to touch it, a thumb going over the long threads. 

“Caius…I want you…yes-it’s our wedding night, please…” you heard yourself voice. 

 He pulled and fought at the knot almost so much, that he swore that it wasn’t coming off fast enough.  That he would need a knife. Then he used his thumb to edge it out so it would loosen. With several swift tugs and a grunt of his, he yanked the knot undone and the cloth belt came off. He eagerly found the edges of your clothes.

“Yes…my wife…”

You wrapped your arms around him and kissed him again. He then removed the lower parts of his clothes.

There were slaves playing music in the other room. He preferred some quiet music in the evenings. And tonight was no exception. They were to keep playing. To hear him take his wife- no, you. To hear Your cries of pleasure among the soft strings. They were playing when he led you to his lectus and your marriage was passionately consummated. 

You adjusted to married life surprisingly well. And in private, Caius was not the fearsome dragon some heralded him to be. Yes- he was arrogant and stubborn at his worst. But he could be…persuaded, you discovered. 

“And the peasants were crying that they wanted more grain! Grain from our storages!” he reported to you one day over dinner.

“Well…couldn’t we spare just a little bit, dear husband?” you asked.

A Slave brought you a bowl of dates and then left to refill your wine glasses. 

“For the rabble? No-let them hang!” he dismissed.

He tore a bite of meat from its leg and chewed on it like a bear with prey. But you kept your eyes soft and gave him a smile.

“They’re only hungry. Even I become cross when I am hungry! And we have so much food here. Really, it’s more than I can eat! And there are always so many leftovers…surely….just a little grain could be spared, Caius? It would warm my heart to see so many hungry people be fed…they do not complain without reason…perhaps then they won’t complain about you anymore. Just a little bit of grain, Caius? Please?”

You saw his shoulders start to sag. With a deep sigh, he gestured to one of his slaves

“Tell them that five percent of the grain stored will be gathered and distributed to the protesters,” he said. 

You smiled as you looked down.

He was content to sit quietly beside you in some evenings. You could weave your loom and the man who craved battles would merely go over parchments beside you. His desire was like that of an animal though. It only took a look or a smile from you before he was on you, kissing you, and pulling at your clothes to have them come off. The nights when you both did not make love, he still wanted to touch you. He would pull you onto him to rest your head against his chest. You would permit him to rub your back with his hand and wrap his arms protectively around you. As if not even Zeus himself could get past Caius Martius to the treasure that lay in his arms. He often would touch you gently. Even as you walked past him, he would softly just touch a cloth of your skirt, feeling the fabric slip through his fingers longingly as you had to leave. 

There was one dinner where your mother, Volumina, decided to put you to the test. You knew it. As you sat down on the floor enjoying your food, she turned to you and declared something most people would find offensive.

“Ah! I hope in the next battle that my son will receive another scar! Don’t you, Y/N?”

On one hand, you did not want your husband to suffer. But this was Volumina. Her whole life’s purpose was to create a soldier of her boy. To serve the wars in her own way through what she could do behind the scenes. To see him either victorious or dead was her life’s work. Glory in battle meant glory for her and the Martius family. 

Carefully, you added a reply with a dutiful nod of your head.

“Yes- should the scars not be fatal, I see them as badges of honor. And if they were-I am proud to have a husband willing to give his life for the safety of Rome’s people. And if I must sacrifice him for all our sakes, I will make it,” you replied.

“Ah! What a sweet woman you have for your wife, Caius!” Volumina praised, her stained lips curved into a smile. 

There, the middle ground. It wasn’t that bad. But as she slid aside her plate, her talk turned. She looked at you, dressed in her dark clothes with her dark hair done up. Her smile was still big on her creamy face. 

“Did you know, Y/N, that my son bears a total of twenty-seven scars from battle!?” she asked.

“No-he never told me it was that many,” you said with a quick glance at him.

“Yes! And may Ares bring him twenty-seven more!” Volumina said. 

But you had never seen such scars. 

After a few months, you realized something- you had never seen him bare. That was odd. Most women would tell you of how the first time they saw Octavius Cato’s or so-and-so’s willy they burst into laughter. But even the hundreds of times you made love, Caius kept his shirt on. He preferred to bathe alone, never going into the bathhouses. The times he did bathe, sometimes you heard him groan in pain outside the room. As if the scars were still fresh. He always went behind a screen to dress. In bed, he only wore a toge that had short sleeves. You saw a cut over his shoulder peep out. It looked almost like the crack of an earthquake on the soil. But whenever you tried to nudge it in bed, he would move your hand away, asking you to stop. 

You were still unequal. He had kissed every inch of your bare skin. But you had not even seen it. As frightening as that scratch looked, you had to see more. 

That is, until one night. It was uncomfortably warm. You sweated on your shared lectus, tossing and turning in discomfort.  You turned over to see Caius was still awake. He then rolled over of you confirming to the other that you were not asleep. You slept in your underclothes and he still had that toge. And he was sweating. 

“I think you should undress,” you said. 

He turned around, though you could smell his sweat dripping down.

“It’d be better if I didn’t,” he huffed. 

You touched his shoulder, turning him to face you. 

“Caius…why do you show no one your scars?” you asked.

He swallowed.

“They’re….they’re only when Rome needs to see them. When they lose sight. When they lose respect.” he said. r.

“Am I not part of Rome, too?” you asked.

He paused.

“Yes…yes you are…” he answered.

“You’ve never…bared yourself to me like I have to you,” you commented.

“They’re gruesome. It would…it would have scared you, I thought. You wouldn’t want to sleep beside them…too gruesome…” 

He sat up.

“I’ll sleep somewhere else tonight-you don’t want to look at them,” he announced.

But you stopped his hand and kept him still. 

“Caius…may I see them, please?” you asked.

You gingerly touched his chest, right over the toga he wore to bed. You only saw the scratches around his collarbones.

“Are you afraid?” he asked. 

“No. They’re a part of you…I want to see them…” you urged.

His eyes softened. Then you both sat up in bed.

“Then…then remove it for yourself and see.” he permitted. 

You went to the corner edges of his own robe. He helped you as you lifted it over his head. You then got a candle to see it better.

You knew he was a strong man, but there were so many scratches, lashes, and cuts you could not make out the muscles clearly. There were so many cuts and lashes-they looked so dark across his skin. All over his torso. Then there were the newer ones from the battle at Corioles-they still looked red. You set the candle back down on the table near the bed.

“I understand if you wish not to lie with me anymore…I will make arrangements where-”

“No, you don’t have to!” you interrupted.

For once in his life, Caius Martius Coriolanus closed his mouth and he listened.

“Twenty-seven of them. Twenty-seven times you have been wounded. Twenty-seven times you could have died…and didn’t,” you said.  “Can I touch them?”

“Yes,Y/N, you can…”

You lightly took your hand and felt the bumps and edges. He flinched only slightly, then relaxed into it. You could feel the warmth of the sweltering night on him. 

“Caius…may I kiss them?” you asked.

“Yes…”

You gently kissed the back of your three fingers and pressed them over the lower scars. You knew putting your mouth lower would stir something in him. Now was not the moment…and it seemed he would agree. His breathing was deep as your kissed fingers touched the lower ones. Such chaste, light kisses like a butterfly's wing.

As they moved up to his chest, you peppered one kiss across one. Then another. You paused, your mouth over his skin, his steady pulse shaking from your touch.  

“Each one…you survived. You defeated your enemies…you protected your allies…and you protected me…and you survived, Caius,” you whispered.

He put a hand to touch your cheek and you leaned into it.

“Dulcissima…my sweetest…thank you…”

“Do they hurt right now?” you asked.

His voice smoothed and spoke with such tenderness as you had never heard before. He put an arm around you as you kept kissing them. 

“No…they never felt more relieved…my wife, her kisses have their own little medicine…”

You moved up to his shoulder from the first fresh one from Corioles, sweetly kissing them. His soft voice spoke on and you could feel yourself burst from his words.

“Dearest of my heart…my gift from Hera and Aphrodite themselves…”

You kissed the gash on his upper left arm. Then you lifted up to meet him, his eyes brimming with tears. 

“There…twenty-seven kisses for each scar…”

Then he relaxed, your hand tracing his chest. You blew the candle out to the dark. The room suddenly became cooler. Then you nuzzled into him, settling into him. How warm he felt-so close and so real. His chest moving and falling.

“Caius…why did you want to marry me?” you asked.

“I thought…you would do well, being married to me. You…you’re good to me. You…you smiled when you saw me. You weren’t afraid…” he confessed.

“I was nervous every time you noticed me!” you recalled.

You felt the smile in his voice. His other hand found yours and wrapped itself over your palm. He went on.

“So was I! I hate banquets and parties…but I went to them in case you were there. I watched you squirm at the gladiator fights and look away and wish I could…just take you in my arms and take you away from them. But…then there was the time I was with your father’s…. You said something, and it made me laugh…I laughed! That was…when I knew…when I knew I had to be your husband.”

You looked up at him. His eyes were shiny. But you did not see tears. He swallowed, perhaps looking away made him more honest. You nestled back into him and clung to him. He kept talking.

 “I kept…thinking of you. Of what you would say. I kept going to the market. Every day. Just to see you. Even just a glimpse of you passing by. Just one glimpse-not much. To see you walk up to the bathhouses….”

“And you never went in to see me in there…because of your scars?” you asked.

“I knew you frequented them. I confess- I am a man. As much as I would have loved to see you naked and wet, it meant scaring the others away when I removed my clothes, it would have scared you away…”

You went back to look at him. This time you touched his face, looking directly into his blue eyes. 

You pressed a forehead to his.

“They don’t scare me…not anymore, and you don’t scare me…” you whispered. “Caius…Caius, I love you…”

“Y/N…I…I love you too…”

That evening, as the night settled over a place that called itself Rome, you relaxed into bed with your husband. You wrapped your arms to embrace him and he did not put on his toge to hide his scars. He only held you tight. His scars only barely brushed against you. Badges of war. Badges of honor. Badges of protection. He kissed the top of your head as you both settled into sleep. 

[radicaledward55]

Just imagining reiner doing leg day with those short athletic shorts on showing off his juicy ass thighs like please i just love some meaty thighs and i also hc reiner as like a meaty linebacker 😩 like just image him all thick and muscular and squishy ugh i can’t lemme stop before i get carried away but thick thighs do save lives

[kostantina]

A speed drawing of Female Holy Roman Empire doing a wacky pose from @yennieahh. She did not only draw this in a short amount of time but also drew it from memory.

[verxn]

Guilty

Description: you guys go on the trip to Italy but it doesn’t end very well

Pairing: Peter Parker x black fem reader

It’s been a while , I didn’t know what to write about please don’t get me 😭 - v

-

They were everywhere…literally everywhere, i couldn’t even turn the corner without seeing them smooching off of each other

We are currently in Italy for a school trip and I kinda regret coming, there’s so much couples everywhere and I cannot seem to escape

Plus looks like Peter is hopping in the bandwagon right behind ned with trying to get with MJ

“What happened to being American bachelors in Europe” I heard peter say to ned

“Dude I’ve changed those were words of a little boy, I’m a man” Ned said to peter

“Jesus Christ Ned you just get a girlfriend now your acting like your some kinda of saint” I said flipping through my engineering book

“Y/n- you weren’t even in this conversation” Ned replied frowning a bit “she’s kinda right through” Peter said to Ned

“Peter you still trying to do that plan?” I looked at him “yeah hopefully I can go through with this without any problems ahead” he said

“When is there never not a problem Peter? Guarantee you might have to pull out the suit” I whispered to him “but anyways enough with the couple talk I can’t stand it” i put my book back in my tote bag

I wore a green tan and brown striped shirt , black slacks with checkered print vans, I put my dreads in a lazy ponytail and I had glasses on even though I could see perfectly fine I just wanted to wear them with my outfit

“Y/n your style is weird” Ned said, I looked up at him “whaddya mean?” He thinks for a moment “I don’t know it’s lazy yet so professional” he added

“Lazy yet so professional? Hm I’ll take it” I said smiling at him “how did you even come up with this style anyway?” Peter said I looked up at him “oh I just had inspiration from certain people” I nodded to myself

“That’s cool, who are those people?” He said curiously “uh- favorite artist like people I listen to” I said to him it was a bit awkward probably because I confessed to him 5 months ago and he sadly turned me down but I moved on …..kinda?

“oh nice nice” he said to me I nodded and folded my arms “well long trip ahead I better go get some snacks” I said to the two and walked away

While I was walking away to one of the random stores I heard “WAIT” I turned around and saw peter running towards me “what the..” I mumbled confused on why he was running towards me

He stopped right in front of me out of breath “are you good?” I said to him “y-yeah I’m fine you just walk really fast” he said to me still out of breath

“yeah I get that a lot” I chuckled to myself “but why did you run over here for ?” “I needed your advice about my plan-” I shucked my teeth and walked away “nope I don’t wanna hear about couples”

-

We arrived at the hotel and everyone else left but, I didn’t feel like going out so I stayed in, plus all that lovey dovey would rub off on me

I sighed and pulled out my phone and started scrolling through social media, but it was filled up with couple posts and pictures of our classmates on the trip

I groaned and turned off my phone “let’s just take a nap” I said to myself, I laid down and got comfortable and drifted off to sleep

-

Knocking woke me up from my nap, I sat up rubbing my eyes “just a moment” I said getting off the bed “what the hell” I said to myself

I opened the door and found peter and Ned standing there “what?” I said clearly tired Ned opened his mouth to speak but I cut him off “wait wait wait, before you start if it has to do with anything couple related I will shut this goddamn door on your face” I said now fully awake

“We got attacked” Ned said “attacked how what?” I said confusedly “actually wait come in” I said opening the door wider so they can step in the hotel room

“What happened?” I said with my arms crossed “some big water giant attacked us” Ned said “thank god that guy was there, without him we’ll be toast” he added

“You got Spider-Man right there what you mean?” I said pointing to peter “did you do anything peter ?” I turned to him

He nodded “yeah I webbed up some buildings so they wouldn’t fall and also held up a tower but it fell” I nodded “okay at least nobody is hurt” i said while sitting down

“But what do you want me to do about this? You guys had to come to me for something” I said looking at the pair

They stared at me

“What…?” I said shifting uncomfortably

“Y/n….can you…”

“Don’t tell me you want me to upgrade your suit” I said grabbing my brown coat

“Listen…I know you only do that if it’s necessary but I really need it” Peter said desperately

I looked at peter “look…I’m sorry but, I have no lab to work in and I didn’t bring my materials with me…I’m sorry Peter” I said looking at him sitting on the bed next to ned

Peter nodded and got up while leaving the room , ned slowly looked back at me and mouthed ‘sorry’ and closed the door behind him

I then plopped down on the bed and held my hands to my face “why the hell would I do that”

[myplasticadversary]

It still tickles me that Roman has the reputation for "getting pity-spanked in a jerk dungeon" and such things when Kendall is the one who gets giddy at the thought of being kidnapped

[getonite]

Awh :( take your time baby, it's alright — I'm here btw, if you wanna talk (ngl, taking a couple days feel clear things out greatly—

in fact me, I just delete drafts if I can't work on it or they start draining me—assuming you're going through a writer’s block—nit that you should do the same, but like yk, everyone copes different so do what's best <3)

(took me like 5 years to reply but)

TYYY 🙏🏾

i may or may not take a few days off. cuz i get like bursts of motivation, so when that happens im literally dashing to my computer or phone, but ye.

and ngl, ive done that b4 💀 i felt sooooo bad afterwards :( but i was like...yeah its going to take me a year to complete this ask at this point so bye bye 👋🏾 lmaooo

[catholicsaintquotes33ad]

[bed-chemist]

❝ ...ready for it?❞

─⋆♡ chapter summary: the president’s daughter spends her first day with her new security detail.

─⋆♡ main tropes: Michael B. Jordan x Fem!OC, Rome Flynn x Fem!OC, Damson Idris x Fem!OC. Bodyguard x Princess, Secret Service x First Kid, forced proximity, forbidden love, tolerated enemies to lovers, college romance.

─⋆♡ chapter warnings: angst, 18+ black!writer, language, fighting, threatening, choking, physical descriptors (brief), characters affected by symptoms of anxiety or depression.

series masterlist ✰ faceclaims ✰ libby's cabinet ✰ spotify playlist

The door opens to the media room and in an instant, the social butterfly that helped my mother win the presidency is flipped on. “Secretary Randall!” I greet the short woman in front of me.

“Liberty! It’s been too long,” Secretary Randall returns the familiarity with an outstretched hand.

The smile doesn’t leave my face as I reach out to meet Secretary Randall halfway before Agent Jordan attacks her. “It’s so nice to see you,” I say through clenched teeth. Fuck, my jaw is going to hurt after all this fake smiling.

“It’s nice to see you too. Thanks for making time for this in your schedule,” she chirps a little too loud for my liking this early in the day.

“Of course. I wish I had more time, maybe we can figure something out in the future,” I lie. I hope this is the last time I see this woman until I’m begging for a good student teaching placement.

The photographer directs us to stand in between the windows with the most sunlight. “Yes, that’s right. You’re in class at…” she trails off, hoping I’ll finish her sentence.

The photographer snaps a couple of pictures of us smiling, standing side by side. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel Agent Jordan’s eyes on me, waiting for the secretary to step out of line so he could pounce. “Howard,” I finally blurt out.

Once the photographer gives a thumbs up, I step back giving us each some personal space again. “Yes, Howard. Amazing education program,” Secretary Randall compliments.

“Speaking of, I have class in,” I pause to look down at my wristwatch. “Half an hour so, I’m sorry but I have to go,” I apologize and hope it looks sincere.

She nods, stepping out of the path for the door. “I understand. Have a good day, Libby,” she waves goodbye.

I return the smile, moving to exit the room as soon as possible. “You too, Secretary Randall,” I try to call towards her over my shoulder, but Agent Jordan is blocking my way.

Once the doors shut behind the three of us, Jo clears her throat. “You know you don’t have class in thirty minutes, right?” she asks.

I nod, turning towards the staircase to the residence levels. “Of course, I know. But I just need 15 minutes of alone time before this interview,” I explain.

Jo stops just before we ascend the staircase together, leaving Agent Jordan and me alone. “Got it,” she says, walking back in the direction we came.

My feet rush up the stairs, making a right towards the blue room. 

Please let it be empty, please let it be empty, please let it be empty. I chant the mantra in my head over and over again until my hand is on the handle, pushing the door open. A sigh of relief rasps through my body. Thank god, it’s empty. 

I step into the room, taking in the relaxing feeling of the calming color. The door shuts behind me and I assume Agent Jordan has closed it and is now standing outside the door. I take advantage of the opportunity, closing my eyes and flopping down on the couch.

My breathing calms and I mentally note to plan a regular massage appointment if things are going to continue this way. When my eyes flutter open, I almost jump out of my skin seeing Agent Jordan towering over my face. “That was good,” he compliments with his signature menacing smirk on his face.

“I know,” I scoff, hyper-aware of his every move now. My eyes watch Agent Jordan come around to the front of the couch. “What are you doing?” I question him.

Agent Jordan pulls at the bottom of his pants a bit before sitting down. “What does it look like?” he chides.

I roll my eyes, feeling them get stuck from the sleepy feeling I’ve yet to shake. “Sitting, yes. But next to me,” I point out Agent Jordan’s perfectly sculpted body.

Agent Jordan shrugs, tilting his head to look at me. “It’s the best way to protect you,” he mutters.

“You’re supposed to protect me from stuff outside the room. There’s nothing to protect me from in here but you,” I counter.

Agent Jordan’s head falls back and he lets out something I thought I’d never hear. A fucking boisterous laugh. “My lady has jokes,” he chuckles.

I roll my eyes, scooting further away from Agent Jordan on the couch. “No. Your lady has questions,” I warn.

“No,” Agent Jordan deadpans.

“Yes,” I argue.

Agent Jordan’s eyes narrow at me sending a chill down my spine. “No, Liberty,” he bellows with finality. “Prep for your fucking interview or something,” he crosses his arms, staring directly up at the ceiling. He doesn’t dare to move and his face is cold as stone.

A few moments pass and I realize, Agent Jordan’s not going to break. I might as well press forward. “What’s your first name?” I ask.

Agent Jordan's lips part and he lets out an exacerbated sigh. “Michael,” he states.

I lick my lips, sitting up to prepare another question. “What’s your zodiac sign?” I buzz.

“Why do you care?” Michael asks, still no movement.

“Because I do. Now tell me,” I spew.

Michael blinks rapidly as if he’s trying to reach up and grab the zodiac sign from his mind. I should’ve just asked him his birth date. “I don’t know. My birthday is on February 9th,” he responds.

My eyes roll again. Gotta love the air signs. “Great, you’re an Aquarius,” I criticize.

Michael’s face scrunches with blithe disregard. “I won’t even pretend to know or give a shit about what that means to you,” he mouths off towards the ceiling.

“What are you doing here?” I ask with my head propped up in my hand.

“Working,” Michael grumbles.

“You know that doesn’t answer my question. Why. Are. You. Here?” I intonate. 

Michael’s tongue darts out over his perfectly plump bottom lip and the simple act has me gulping. “Have to be. It’s in my contract,” he reminds me.

“Well, the only reason why an ex-navy seal would be doing this job would be because you did something bad,” I speculate, pausing to search Michael’s face for any discomfort.

Michael’s poker face is award-winning, and he doesn’t crack, so I continue to press. “Were you a bad boy, Mikey?” I coo seductively.

“Don’t,” Michael snaps.

My jaw drops and I cover my mouth with my hands. ”Oh my gosh. Did you kill someone?” I gasp facetiously. 

Michael clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth making an unsavory popping sound, causing me to flinch slightly. “I’ve killed so many people, I’ve lost count, my Lady,” he patronizes.

“No, I mean like someone you’re not supposed to,” I elaborate.

Michael finally moves, suddenly snapping his head over to look me dead in the eye. “Stop,” he demands.

A small grin creeps onto my lips. Got ya. I shift on the couch so that I’m on my hands and knees, crawling to Michael. I wish it were under better circumstances but, here we are. 

“Oh you killed a bunch of people and now you’re stuck with me. Poor Mikey,” I taunt, inching my way closer to him.

Michael’s mouth twitches as if I’ve offended him but he doesn’t stop me from practically crawling in his lap. “That’s not what happened,” he corrects me.

Michael’s breath smells like cinnamon and I catch him glancing at my ass so perfectly poked up in the air. The feeling of being this close to him is intoxicating. “So what happened?” I dig.

All the blood in my body rushes to my ears, hungry for a taste of the man just inches away from me. “What happened, Lady Li–” I cut Michael off with a finger pressed to his lip. 

“Stop calling me that,” I mewl just above a whisper. I drag the tip of my finger down so Michael’s plump bottom lip snaps up.

What happens next, I could’ve never predicted. Michael’s rough hands wrap around my neck, squeezing the sides. “Don’t interrupt me again,” he spits in my face before pushing me back.

The force is great enough that it gets me out of Michael’s personal space, but not so bad it hurts. It only makes me want more and I try to ignore the searing heat pooling in my panties. “The problem isn’t with me killing people. We did that in the Seals all the time. I took money for it after. That’s the issue,” he explains to me like I’m a 6th grader now that I’m kneeling patiently next to him.

“So like a mercenary?” I cut to the point.

With a petulant shake of his head, Michael corrects me, “Not like, I was a mercenary.”

My eyebrows raise in surprise. “Jesus Christ. Obviously, the government caught you,” I speak in utter shock. He doesn’t seem like the type of person who’d ever get caught up in a job like this.

Michael nods, confirming my suspicion. “Mmm. Caught our leader and he was weak. Snitched on the entire group before killing himself,” he explains.

I gnaw on my lip, processing all the information. Although I don’t know them from a can of paint, Michael’s coworkers don’t look like they could do what he’s talking about. Agent Flynn is too bubbly and Agent Idris is so outspoken. “So Agent Flynn and Agent Idris, they’re…”

“The person you hire when you want someone dead,” Michael deadpans.

“That’s, well…” I pause, not wanting to alienate the man. If he has to be with me for 4 years, I want him to get acclimated slowly. If I push too fast, he may run for the hills.

Not that I care what he thinks about me because I 100% do. not. care. “What?” Michael’s voice brings me back to reality.

I’m assuming you can’t have a girlfriend or kids. Too risky in the business meaning a majority of your time is spent with coworkers or alone. No forming real long-lasting relationships. “Sad. Must be lonely with a life like that,” I finish the thought.

Michael shrugs and I watch the statement bounce off of him like water off a duck's back. “Trust me, you get used to it.”

 I try to keep my face as composed as possible not to show him pity. “I’m sorry,” I apologize. That’s not a life I’d want to live. Barely any connection and no one to talk to.

“Don’t apologize,” Michael murmurs and for a moment, I see a flash of human in his eyes. The once robotic side of him is slowly starting to melt away and it’s only been a few hours.

Good, he couldn’t keep up this act for much longer. I offer Michael a soft smile before he returns the question, “What are you doing here?”

“Meaning?” I clarify.

“You’re 20, in college already. Why are you living in The White House?” Michael gestures outside the windows to the spectacular white pillars. 

Because I’m being used as leverage. It's the same as any young royal, or so I’m told. “They’re trying to set me up with someone. Probably a young prince from another country,” I huff.

Michael’s nose scrunches, almost as if he’s displeased with my statement. Is he jealous? “You don’t seem like the relationship person,” he points out.

I shrug because Michael’s right. Ellis is underage and Hudson can’t be trusted as far as you can throw him; I’m the only child up for the task. “I’m not, but Lady Liberty sure is. If I date the Mexican president’s son, drug trade talk will be easier,” I explain feeling despondent about the situation.

“But you hate it,” Michael says and I feel like he’s staring through my soul. Of course, I hate it. This country has limited abortion access yet I’m being paraded around like a piece of meat to stop a war.

My eyes stay fixed on Michael’s and my breathing slows. Something about him makes me feel safe, although he could work on the scowling. “And I love my mom. What’s 4 years?”

“If their little plan for you goes well, it’ll be 8,” Michael asserts.

A knock rasps on the door before Jo sticks her head in. “Times up. Teen Vogue time!” she cheers.

The loud ticking of the grandfather clock in the fitting room has me wanting to push it right over the balcony railing. The noise is like nails on a chalkboard, reminding me that time is fleeting. 

The doors fly open and Ellis bursts in, being closely trailed by Agent Idris. “Guess what I found out?” she asks melodically.

My head shakes at Ellis’s antics. “Do you ever knock?” I ask. I could’ve been fucking naked.

Ellis huffs, sitting down on the armchair closest to me. “No. You’re not doing anything anyway,” she says, gesturing to me sitting idly on the loveseat.

My eyes roll and I hear Agent Idris chuckle lowly. Annoyed with Ellis taking so long to get to the point, I try to speed her up, “What did you find out, bestie?”

A creepy all-knowing smile plasters onto Ellis’ face. “King Charles III is coming tomorrow,” she informs me maniacally.

“Yeah, Ellis, I assumed. It’s a state dinner. The head of the honoring country has to be on the list,” I explain. She’s in high school, she should know this already.

“Yeah, but you don’t get it. The last two state dinners with the prime minister and the previous queen. This is his first state dinner as King,” Ellis explains excitedly with her hands, showing us a visual representation of the King’s importance.

The Brits haven’t been very fond of us since an official July 4th many moons ago. “That probably means way less to him than it does to us,” I inform Ellisr. 

The back doors to the room open 4 clothes racks are pushed in with accompanying stylists. “Time to play dress up,” Ellis sighs, standing from her chair. 

She can go first, I don’t care for this shit anyway. 

Ellis starts sliding the hangers across the rack, looking at each piece with a detailed eye. My hands find the book I was reading earlier in the afternoon and I pick it up, trying to busy my brain with something. A couple minutes pass of ambient noise before I hear Ellis ask, “Where’s Jo?”

I don’t bother to look up at Ellis, knowing her back is probably facing me. “I told her to go home for the day. Like you said, it’s not like I’m doing anything,” I quote her words a few moments ago.

“We’ll be outside,” I hear Michael say from behind me. When I turn around, he’s pulling a reluctant Agent Idris towards the door.

“You guys can sit right there. We’ll be behind the dressing screen anyways,” I stop them in their tracks. Agent Idris turns around with a smirk on his face before straightening his now-ruffled suit.

Michael’s forehead puckered and his eyes blazed with anger. My eyes squint at him, unsure about his sudden behavior change. What the fuck is his problem? “Sweet,” Agent Idris boasts before smoothly crossing over to me.

I pat the loveseat next to me and Agent Idris smoothly slides onto the cushion, leaning close to me. Once he’s content, I turn my attention to Michael, who looks like he could strangle Agent Idris. The veins are popping out of his skull so I stand, motioning for my spot on the couch. “Here, take my spot. I’ll take the chair,” I motion towards my seat. 

Michael obliges my request, stalking towards me and sitting in the inevitably warmed seat. Agent Idris, uncomfortable with the proximity of closeness, scoots back drastically. A snort leaves my nose and I lower myself into the velvet armchair. 

I turn the page and before I can begin reading, Ellis comes out dressed in the first dress. The grey tulle adorned with black butterflies is perfectly age-appropriate for her. “Oh Ellis, you look so pretty,” I compliment.

Ellis steps in front of the mirror, spinning a bit. Her nose scrunches and she fluffs the skirt out. “I don’t really like it,” she murmurs.

“Why?” I ask.

Ellis turns around, kicking the skirt out a bit so she can walk. “Too much tulle,” she calls over her shoulder on her way towards the dressing room.

“So pick one without tulle, Ellis. I know you have one back there,” I chastise her.

Ellis grumbles something inaudible back and I hear the sound of the crinoline moving against the floor. Two zipper sounds fill the air and minutes later, I hear her sigh, “Okay.”

I abandon my book, figuring my turn is upcoming. “Yeah?” I shout slightly at the screen.

Ellis comes from behind the screen in a Tiffany blue dress with minimal crystals adorning the pockets. “Yeah,” she smiles bashefully.

It’s perfect for Ellis, but without accessories, she looks naked. “You need some gloves and maybe some earrings,” I list, walking over to the vanity with crystal pieces laid on the silk trays.

“I mean duh but what do you think? Hair up or down,” Ellis asks and I look up at her reflection in the mirror. She switches between holding her hair up and letting it flow, posing as she does.

Why would Ellis ask me? I’m the most indecisive person on the fucking planet. “Down,” I suggest.

Ellis nods, picking up the bottom of the dress. “Okay, let me get changed,” she scurries behind the screen.

I silently disappear between the racks, hoping that if I stay silent, no one will notice my short stature in between the clothing. “Your turn,” Ellis unfortunately chirps.

My eyes roll and I touch the fabrics. I don’t want anything too extravagant, but sexy enough to command presence. And I’ll be damned if my little sister looks better than me, no offense. I pick a few dresses, putting them on a rack that an assistant swiftly pulls away for me. 

Once I’m ready, I step behind the screen. The stylist unzips the first dress, stepping out of the room so I can slip into it. I shed the clothing, folding up my outfit. I step into the first dress, calling for help to lace up the back. “Okay,” I say, finally looking up in the mirror. “I can already tell you I don’t like this one,” I grunt, turning to get a good look at myself.

The dress has a cinched waist, and the blue is bright–it reminds me of a highlighter. It’s a beautiful dress. It’s just not the dress for me. 

“So I don’t need to see it. Next!” Ellis shouts. I nod, allowing the stylist to slowly untie the ribbon. I put my hands back on my chest to avoid spilling out of the top of the dress before the stylist puts another dress up on the rack.

Once she leaves, I exhale, allowing the dress to fall to the floor. I pick it up, put it back on the rack, and turn to pick up the next one. This one is a hot red color with a crystalized top. Similarly to the first dress, the red satin flows out from the waist, with velvet roses on the straps. I call the stylist in again to lace me up, and she does so with practiced ease. 

When she’s finished, I step out but only in view of Ellis. “This one’s okay,” I say. It’s too sweet and would be a better fit for Ellis.

Ellis shifts with her hands on her hips. “Mmm, we can do better,” she says before turning back to the racks. She maneuvers through the racks, pulling a blue tulle dress and holding it up towards me. “This one?” she asks.

I shake my head, “Too extra.”

Ellis hands the dress off to the assistant, diving back into the rows determined to find something appropriate. “This one?” she asks, holding a long silk dress. “Oh my gosh, please try it for me,” she pleads.

I scoff, taking the dress from Ellis’s hands, “Fine.”

The Tiffany blue silk with the bow on the back makes it a beautiful, yet promising dress. Giddy about the outcome of this dress, I step into it and call the stylist in for hopefully the last time. After she’s done securing the back, she lets me know, and I let my arms fall to my waist. A smile grows on my face when I look myself up and down in the mirror. “You know what, Ellis? You might’ve been right,” I praise her selection.

It fits my body perfectly and it’s a beautiful dress. “Really?” I hear Ellis ask just before I step out from behind the shield. Her eyes drink me in and her face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning. “Hell yeah,” she boasts.

Ellis steps to the side and when I look behind her, I see Agent Idris’ jaw is on the floor. My eyes find Michael’s and his face is still stone cold. But I see a flash of desire in his irises the longer we have the staring contest.

Ellis clears her throat and I blink rapidly, returning my gaze towards Agent Idris. Michael notices and backhands the man in the chest. Agent Idris quickly snaps his mouth shut, swallowing before his lips part again. “Hot,” Agent Idris groans, shifting his pants.

When I look down, his prominently hard member is practically waving at me. “Show some fucking respect,” Michael barks, tossing one of my throw pillows in Idris’ lap.

A faint giggle slips Ellis's lips and when I turn my head toward her, she’s covering her mouth discreetly. “Oh come on, I’m being objective,” Agent Idris defends himself before turning his attention to me. “Libby you look beautiful,” my sister’s agent compliments with his arm outstretched.

A small smile creeps onto my lips. “Thank you, Agent Idris,” I say before turning around to face the jewelry case.

My eyes scan the contents of the box, allowing my fingers to pick up a gold ring and slide it onto my finger. “Pretty. You wearing that one?” I hear Ellis ask.

“I don’t know,” I say, similarly abandoning the jewelry to her. “Hair up or down?” I ask, striking my poses.

Ellis squints, gnawing on her lip for a second like it’s the hardest decision she’s ever had to make. Me and you both, Lil Bit. “Down,” she finally utters.

I turn towards the couch behind Ellis. The guys will give me a better opinion anyway. After all, it’s their desire I’m trying to obtain. “Agent Idris?” I ask the man.

“Up,” my sister’s guard answers with such quickness that I wonder if he read my mind before I asked that question.

Michael’s body tenses and his buttons dare to pop off his shirt. “Say another word and I’ll be watching you bleed out on the rug,” he threatens his colleague.

Curious about Michael’s opinion, I pose him the same question, “Agent Jordan?”

Michael’s body stays stoically still but his jaw clenches unnaturally. After a couple of moments, I get fed up with the fact that he won't give me attention. “Fine, what about the jewelry? I don’t know which one,” I return to the jewelry boxes.

Ellis looks over my shoulder before pointing at a box. “Gold,” she states before leaving my side.

I pick up the tray with at least 15 pieces on it. “Way to narrow it down for me, Ellis. Now get out,” I playfully bid her goodbye. “and take him with you,” I joke, pointing at Agent Idris.

“Bye, Libby. See you whenever,” Ellis waves over her shoulder. 

“Bye, Lis. Bye, Idris,” I call after the lanky brown man who throws me a wink over my shoulder. These men are going to be the death of me.

I peer out of the window at the tip of the National Monument. Hudson’s obsessive rants about whatever topic he chose are starting to drive me nuts, and we still have 30 minutes of traffic to sit through. “I need you to shut the fuck up for the remainder of our time together in this car,” I whip my head towards my kid brother and snap.

His nose scrunches and he leans forward defensively. “We’re only in traffic because of your stupid education degree. Ceramics has night classes,” he taunts.

“Yeah, cause your ceramics degree is going to come into good use,” I slander his degree choice. I have nothing against art majors, it’s just my brother is a dick who needs to be put in his place right now. 

Agent Flynn snickers and Hudson smacks my pants leg. I reach out, grabbing his wrist before he can scurry back to his side of the car. “Touch me again,” I start twisting, eliciting a spew of cries from his throat. 

“Ow, ow. Let go,” he pleads.

“And I’ll fucking kill you,” I finish the threat, releasing my grip. He snatches his arm back, rubbing the skin around his wrist.

He mumbles something under his breath before looking across the car at his guard. “Aren’t you supposed to kill her if she touches me?”

Agent Flynn shrugs, seemingly unbothered by the sibling bickering. “I would but Agent Jordan would kill me on the spot. So is there a true winner?” he clarifies.

A giggle leaves my lips. He’s got to be joking, right? “Hahaha, my guard is better than yours,” I tease Huddy.

“Not better just, quicker and more serious,” Agent Flynn needlessly defends himself.

The cars pull up just inside the gates, pulling over to the side of the road. “They’re stopping,” Michael alerts Agent Flynn.

His hand creeps down to hover over his gun when I realize what’s going on. They didn’t tell him about Code Grey. Code Grey is the scheduled mindfulness break, brought to you by the white house. They just want to ensure the first children don’t get off track, especially their prized pony.

“No, put those away. The plan says to the door but we haven’t had a mindfulness break today,” I quickly explain, before the door slides open. 

An agent with black sunglasses extends his hand for me to grab. “Come on, Agent Jordan,” I request, although he doesn’t have a choice.

When I step out and the January air hits my face, I grimace. How is walking in freezing temperatures supposed to be good for my mental health? 

A hand is placed on my back, pushing me slightly forward. When I look next to me, I notice it’s Agent Jordan. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel butterflies fluttering around in my stomach. But he’s not an option, none of them are.

My brother steps out behind him, following a chipper Agent Flynn. I bid my sibling goodbye, allowing him and Agent Flynn to cross campus together discreetly. They take off leaving Agent Jordan and I to stand in their dust. “Since you’re here, carry this,” I demand, shoving the bag into Michael’s arms.

He accepts it, swinging the pastel pink strap over his back. “Whatever you say, my lady,” he flirts and I roll my eyes.

My hand slides up to hold his arm. The boots I have on are too high for me to walk stably on the salt-covered ground, so I hope he doesn’t mind. Abruptly, I hear the familiar camera shuttering noises not too far from us. Michael shakes his arm so I let go and he secures it firmly around my shoulder, pulling me into his body. 

He shields me from the paparazzi on the other side of the gate and for the first time, I understand the reason for him. I wouldn’t be able to do this with a 40-year-old man. The topic of conversation surely wouldn’t be how hot my bodyguard is.

We quickly cross the lawn to the education building. When I scan my card for entry, he looks up at the tall structure. “Shit looks depressing,” he comments, holding the door open for me to enter.

I step into the warm building, feeling an instant pain in my ears and nose from the temperature change. I stomp any possible salt off my boots. “I don’t think higher education is supposed to be fun,” I theorize and he chuckles.

The halls are mostly empty, aside from a few scattered students. I look down and check my phone in my hands, seeing that it’s a couple of minutes past four. My heart starts beating rapidly, and I slightly pick up my pace. I like this professor, and I want to leave a good impression on her. She and Jo are the only people who treat me like I’ll have a normal life after this.

The click of my heeled boots echoes off the walls until I’m standing at the door, looking back at Agent Jordan. “I’m sure she knows about you, but just in case. You’re a transfer student, and we’re friends,” I explain our cover story.

He raises an eyebrow, before taking a step back. “Do I look like a fucking teacher, my lady?” he asks, rhetorically. 

“No, you look like a munch,” I respond, quickly pulling open the door before he has a chance to respond. Maybe he’ll charm the pants off my professors and I’ll get an A.

Taglist: @cherrellek, next part

[imaginedisish]

The Promise (Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader)

A/N: Short and sweet...or rather...incredibly spicy. Here's the *Logan catches you...touching yourself* fic. Couldn't think of a song until the end of writing this one. Went with "The Promise" by When in Rome. Also, if I'm messing up with the tag list I am so sorry. Anyway, ENJOY!

Summary: You want to relax after a long day, so you decide to let off some steam alone in your room. But, you're not as alone as you think. Logan can hear you loud and clear...and he's happy to help.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI!!!! SMUT!!! Masturbation (f!), oral (f!receiving), fingering, Unprotected PIV (wrap it up!), porn with NO PLOT, softdom!Logan, cocky!Logan, Logan is def not respecting personal space here, friends to lovers, feelings, afab!reader/fem!reader, cursing, prob some grammatical errors, I think that's it.

Word Count: 2,588 this is the dirtiest thing I've ever written

Finally. You’re in your room. Alone. Today had been exhausting. It was drill after drill, class after class, until your eyes stung and your muscles were beyond sore. But now, all there is to worry about is the mattress at your back and the blankets you’ve pulled up to your chin… 

…Save for that itch, that ache growing between your legs. You had been able to ignore it before, when Logan had you pinned to the wall during one of your drills in the danger room. He caged you in, arms above your head. Gotcha, princess, he whispered, and walked away. You tried to brush off the way your heart fluttered in your chest, tried to shove down the ache that was building in your belly. Logan was your friend—nothing more.

But now that you’re finally alone, it’s too much. You let your hand trail down your body, pushing past the waistband of your shorts and inside your panties. You close your eyes and think of Logan as your fingertips brush your clit. You picture him standing at the edge of your bed, climbing on top of you. 

“F-fuck,” you stutter, working your clit, drawing tight circles, imagining it’s Logan’s hand instead—exploring your folds, spreading your slick, dipping his fingers into your entrance. You whisper his name as you think of him crawling down your body and settling in between your thighs, burying his face into your cunt. 

You imagine what his tongue feels like, lapping at you, flicking your clit. “Logan,” you moan, louder this time, thinking no one can hear you. 

Logan walks down the hall. He can hear your voice, soft and small through the slight crack in your door. You must’ve forgotten to close it all the way. It almost sounds like you’re singing, and his heart squeezes in his chest at the thought.

But then he hears his name. 

“Logan.” It’s a whisper, a faint call. He thinks maybe you can hear him down the hall—that maybe you need help, maybe something’s wrong. He steps towards your room, furrowing his brows as he listens carefully, using his heightened senses. 

“Logan,” you moan again. And he hears it all this time—hears your breathy whines, your legs pushing against the mattress. And fuck, he can smell you. Wet. Aching. His cock hardens at the thought of you getting off to him, his erection straining against his jeans. He walks closer to your door, his steps tentative and quiet. 

Your door is almost closed—the latch just touching the frame. The light from your room casts a thin line across the darkened hallway. It’s warm and glowy, and Logan can feel it pulling him in—can feel it begging him to push the door open and head inside. He holds himself back, resigning himself to listening to your soft murmurs and drunken mumbles. 

But then you’re calling his name again. 

“Logan,” you whimper, your circles quickening, your walls fluttering around nothing. You imagine him fucking into you, spreading you out and stretching you open. You wish he’d come in here and touch you, take you, make you feel good. 

Logan’s cock throbs, his jeans suddenly far too tight. He can tell you’re getting closer, your breathing becoming short and frantic. He knows he shouldn’t, but he pushes the door open just a touch more. You’re in the center of the bed, eyes shut tight, head thrown back, hand underneath the blanket and stuffed inside your panties. 

“N-need you,” you stutter. You need him to really touch you—need to feel his body against yours. Need to—

You suddenly hear your door shut, and your eyes fly open. 

Logan is at the edge of your bed, his hands pressing into the mattress, white-knuckling the sheets as he looks up at you under half-lidded eyes. 

“How long were you—” “I heard everything, pretty girl,” Logan growls, his shoulders tight, his brows furrowed. He’s holding back, restraining himself. “Heard you calling my name.” “I-I…” You trail off, heat spreading across your chest. You don’t know what to say, or how to get yourself out of this. 

“You what, princess?” Logan teases, climbing onto the mattress. “You want me that bad?” He slowly pulls the covers down, revealing your bare thighs. “Want me so bad you’re thinking about me when you touch yourself? Saying my name even when I’m not around?”

He tugs the blanket down farther, your legs on full display for him. “Logan,” you choke, catching your breath. “I didn’t mean to—”

But he’s crawling up your body, grabbing your legs, and tugging you down the mattress. “Don’t worry, darlin’,” he soothes, his big hands pushing apart your legs, his palms splaying on the inside of your thighs. “I want you too.” His hands trail up to the waistband of your shorts, his fingers hooking inside. “You want me to take care of you?”

You swallow harshly. “Y-yes,” you stammer. “Please.”

He strips your shorts and panties from your legs, casting them to the floor. “What were you thinking about when you were touching yourself, hm?” He asks, settling in between your thighs. He brings an arm up and over your hips, gluing your lower half to the mattress. 

“You,” you mumble. 

Logan cocks his head to the side and smirks. “I know that pretty girl,” he husks, his free hand sliding towards your core. “But what were you thinking about?” His thumb finally finds your clit and strokes lightly. 

“Th-that,” you moan as he draws tight circles around the bud. 

“Just this?” He asks teasingly, holding you down as you squirm involuntarily underneath him. 

“More…” You trail off, your eyes fluttering closed as Logan’s circles become faster. 

“Eyes on me, pretty girl,” Logan demands, his touch slipping away. Your eyes flutter back open, and Logan’s thumb finds your clit again. “Now tell me what you want.”

You swallow harshly, waves of pleasure rippling through your body. You need more, and you’ll take anything he’s willing to give you. “W-want your tongue,” you finally choke out. 

“Yeah?” Logan teases, bringing his face down to your heat. “This what you wanted?” He licks a long stripe through your folds and up to your clit. “That feel good?” He’s lapping at you, his tongue dragging through your slit, flicking your bud and drawing tight circles. 

“Yes,” you pant, struggling to keep your eyes open. His face is buried inside your cunt, eating you out like a starved man. The sight is unseemly: his disheveled hair, the way he’s swallowing you whole. “Feels so good, Logan.”

He smirks against you. “Such a good pussy,” he mutters, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. “Tastes so fucking good.” His fingers trail up your inner thigh, climbing higher, finding your folds. 

“Please,” you beg, his gaze meeting yours. 

“Please what, princess?” He asks, looking deeply into your eyes as he sucks on your clit again, rougher this time. Your eyes flutter shut. “Thought I told you to keep those pretty eyes open,” he commands, and you listen. 

“W-want your fingers,” you moan, forcing your eyes to stay open as Logan mercilessly flicks your clit with his tongue. 

And then he’s thrusting two long fingers deep inside you. You curse under your breath as he stretches you out. “So wet,” Logan growls against your core, pulling out only to shove his fingers back in—somehow deeper this time. “So beautiful like this, always so beautiful.”

Your walls flutter around him, his words weakening your resolve. He pumps in and out of you, his fingers scissoring deep inside. He takes your clit back between his lips and sucks long and hard, his teeth grazing your bud as he latches on and lets go. It’s overwhelming—the way he fucks into you, the way he laps at you, his eyes never leaving yours. 

“Lo,” you whine, clenching down on his fingers as he sinks deeper inside you. His pumps become faster, his fingers shoving in and out again and again. 

“That’s it, pretty girl,” he soothes, the flick of his tongue goading you along. “Could smell how much you needed me from the hallway,” he says between laps. “Know you’re getting close for me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, Logan,” you whimper, his words driving you closer to the edge. It’s all too much. Him, suddenly being here, with you. Devouring you. Wanting you. Needing you. Yes, that’s it. Need. His face buried between your legs; his nose pressed just above your clit. His fingers dragging along your walls. He’s consuming you. Dying to be inside you—to be as close as he can possibly get. 

“That’s it, darlin’. Let go.”

And then you’re coming undone, pleasure wracking through your body, fire lighting down your spine. Everything is dizzying and warm, white-hot heat flooding your vision, stars dancing before your eyes. 

“Fuck,” Logan grunts against you, lapping up your juices. “So fucking good. Did so good for me.” His fingers slow inside you and gently pull out, but his tongue is still working at you. He pushes through your folds, savoring the taste of you. 

“Lo,” you groan, squirming underneath him. “Need you now.” 

“You have me,” he mutters against you, the vibrations of his voice wracking your already overstimulated clit. 

“But…” you trail off, the tension building back up between your legs. “N-need you. Please.” 

He licks one more long stripe through your folds and looks up at you. “Say it,” he demands, your release glistening on his chin. “Tell me exactly what you need.” He climbs up your body. “Go on,” he teases, hiking your shirt up your stomach, pushing it over your tits. He smirks when he sees that you have no bra on—your breasts bare before him. His hands trail up to your chest, massaging gently, pinching your nipples. 

You curse under your breath, instinctually spreading your legs. “Need you to fuck me,” you whisper, and Logan grins. 

His touch disappears from your body, his hands finding the hem of his beater as he sits back on his knees. He tugs his shirt up and over his head, throwing it to the floor. He’s perfect, his muscles flexing and contracting as he moves. “Need my cock, pretty girl?” He chides, working at his belt next, tossing it to the side. 

“Yes,” you pant, watching as he undoes his button and his zipper, yanking his jeans and boxers down his legs. His erection springs free, and he’s so much bigger than you had anticipated. You bite your lips nervously at the sight. 

Logan lowers himself down over you, balancing on his forearm as his free hand comes down to stroke your hip comfortingly. “Gonna take care of you, sweetheart,” Logan soothes, pressing his forehead to yours. His hand leaves your hip and wraps around the base of his cock, guiding himself to your entrance. 

You shiver as his tip slides through your folds. He’s so close, his breath fanning across your face. He teases your slit, spreading your slick, nudging against your clit, and slides back down to your entrance.

 His lips finally find yours, swallowing your moans as he shoves himself deep inside you, down to the hilt with one thrust. “Fuck,” he grunts, his hand slipping between your bodies to find your clit. “Tight little pussy.” He slides out and plunges back in, drawing circles around your bud. “So fucking warm, so perfect,” he whispers against your lips, pressing another kiss as he sets his pace. 

He starts out slow, his hips rhythmically rocking against yours. He’s filling you up, splitting you open with every pump. You curse under your breath as his cock drags along your walls. “Feels so good, Lo,” you moan. 

His thumb strokes your clit as he fucks into you, faster now. He’s hitting that sweet spot deep inside with every thrust. “Is this what you were thinking about when you were getting yourself off, pretty girl?” Logan grunts, slamming into you. “Thinking about me fucking you just like this?”

“Yes,” you cry out, your muscles contracting around him. “Always thinking about you.”

Logan smiles against your lips, his eyes dark with lust as he pumps in and out. “Bet you wanted me to hear you,” he huffs, his thumb pressing harder against your clit, his circles becoming rapid and frantic. “Bet you left that door open on purpose.”

You whine a yes as he pounds into you, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, biting your pulse point and kissing away the sting his teeth leave behind. You can feel yourself getting closer, already fucked out beyond all thought. All you can think about is Logan and the way he’s stuffing himself inside you, pushing deeper and deeper. 

“Needed you too, beautiful,” Logan whispers at the shell of your ear, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing against the walls of your room. “Needed you this whole time.” 

You wrap your legs around his waist, giving him more leverage to sink deeper inside you. Your arms find purchase around his back, your nails digging into his bare skin. Logan pinches your clit roughly in between his tight, rapid circles, and you moan his name.

“I know, darlin’,” he soothes, his hips bucking, his cock twitching inside you. “Can feel you squeezing me, know you’re already close.”

“Just feels so good,” you moan as he drills into you relentlessly. “Don’t want you to stop.” 

Logan chuckles darkly, flicking your clit. “Don’t think I can, pretty girl.” He twitches inside you again, and you know he’s close too. He throbs against your walls, pulling out and thrusting all the way back in. 

“Such a good fucking girl,” he praises. He’s still stretching you out with every pump, splitting you open. “Wanna feel you come on my cock, sweetheart. Can you do that for me?” 

“Y-yes,” you stutter, your walls fluttering around him. You can feel yourself slipping, letting go as he slams into you. 

“That’s it, I’ve got you,” he coos, circling your clit. “Come on my cock, just like that.”

Logan thrusts into you again, bottoming out, and the tension snaps. Everything is bliss and searing pleasure. Hazy and blurred. It’s all too much, your eyes welling up as your orgasm rips through you. You blink back your tears. Logan kisses your forehead, his pace faltering as you come undone around him. 

“Wanted you this whole time,” he groans, his hips stuttering. “So fucking beautiful,” he husks. “So perfect.” You pull him closer as he comes inside you, filling you up and painting your walls. Logan moans your name, looking deep into your eyes as he finishes. 

His hips stall inside you, his thumb stroking your clit gently, riding out your orgasms, letting you down easy from your high. 

He notices the single tear sliding down your cheek and brings his hand up from your clit to wipe it away. “You okay?” He asks, concern painted across his face. He presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, his arm wrapping around your back to pull you into his chest.

“Yeah,” you whisper, your eyes fluttering closed. “M’perfect,” you mumble, burying your face into the center of Logan’s chest. He rolls you onto your side, tugging you closer, his cock still half-hard inside you. “Can you stay with me?” You ask, your voice small and quiet, nervous that he might say no. 

“Not going anywhere, pretty girl,” Logan reassures, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise.” 

tags: @thatonegirlwiththebeanie367 @xlocalxpunkx @cervvsq @white-wolf-buckaroo @just-a-nightdreamer @wildfloweroutlaw @starfleetteddybear @prettyseaveins @silversprings-mp3 @spiderset @figsnpassionfruits @wittyjasontodd @ilysmdovie12 @theasiaabattoir @movhoney @fanfic-writing-barbie @manipulatour @pedrohoe04 @derbygracie @honeyfewr @cosmiccandydreamer

[radicaledward55]

dropping a fic tonight, it’s gonna be football player reiner cuz that’s all i can think about

[maplesyrupsainz]

˖⁺｡˚⋆˙lucky charm | LH44˖⁺｡˚⋆˙

pairing: lewis hamilton x fem y/n reader (she/her)

genre: social media au, age gap

warnings: age gap, brief mention of sex but barely

summary: in which you find love on your travels

a/n: me when i finally get a lewis request 💃💃💃

request!!!: Lewis age gap insta au with Cindy kimberly face claim please

my masterlist

fc: cindy kimberly

instagram ->

carmenmmundt 📍 rome

liked by lewishamilton, georgerussell63, and others

carmenmmundt when in rome... 🇮🇹

tagged: yourusername

view all comments

user1 so classy as always ❤️

user2 where's georgeee

user3 who's that girl she's gorgeous wtf

user4 just her friend i think

georgerussell63 woww 😍😍

carmenmmundt oh stop it you!

lilymhe miss you babes!

carmenmmundt aww same, let's plan a trip soon 🥰

lilymhe oh 1000%!!!

user5 i love wag friendships sm

lewishamilton looks like fun!

liked by carmenmmundt

user6 random

user7 perhaps…

yourusername 📍 rome

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, and others

yourusername ti amo, italia 💚🤍❤️

tagged: carmenmmundt

view all comments

yourfriend1 where to next? 😻

yourusername london! you coming?

yourfriend1 well actually........ 👀

yourusername 🎉🎉🎉🎉

user8 omgg so cute

user9 carmen is so gorg

user10 y/n ur so beautiful wowwww

liked by yourusername

carmenmmundt miss you already ❤️

yourusername take me backkk 🇮🇹

yourfriend2 as gorgeous as ever 😘

yourusername ilyyy

yoursister so jealous omg looks amazing

yourusername you should come next time!!!

yoursister oh for sure

yourmother beautiful darling ❤️

liked by yourusername

lewishamilton gorgeous pics! i love italy

yourusername one of my fav places to visit!

lewishamilton mine too!

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by yoursister, lewishamilton, and others

yoursister miss you!!!!

yourusername miss you babes

user11 so beautiful

liked by yourusername

user12 😍😍😍

liked by yourusername

yourfriend1 see you there x

yourusername omg i cant wait

lewishamilton no way! are you free to link up?

yourusername i could probably make some time for lunch?

lewishamilton yea! if that's not too much trouble

yourusername absolutely not! you can text me xx-xxx-xxx :)

lewishamilton 👍

messages ->

twitter ->

instagram ->

lewishamilton 📍 london

liked by yourusername, georgerussell63, and others

lewishamilton visiting home 🏠

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user17 omg??? soft launching already??????

user18 OMGGGG

user19 he loves her your honour

liked by carmenmmundt

user20 interesting interesting 🤨

user21 guys.....how old is she lol

user22 didnt even think about this

user23 she's in her 20s i fear

user24 …no comment

georgerussell63 whipped already

lewishamilton 🤷‍♀️ call me old fashioned

user25 yea old fashioned coz she's like 10 yrs younger than him 😂😂😂

user26 💀 violation

user27 not the classic age gap discourse abt 2 consenting adults...

liked by lewishamilton, yourusername

user28 them liking this 😂 they're already sick of it

user29 tbh she's cute as hell i love her lol

yourusername posted a story

liked by yourfriend1, carmenmmundt, and others

carmenmmundt miss you!

yourusername miss you babe

user30 oh to be friends with y/n

user31 still in london? 🤨

user32 feed us with bf lewis content 👀

lewishamilton you have other friends? 🤨

yourusername we're friends?

lewishamilton we aren't?

yourusername well i think we've got our wires crossed here… 👀

lewishamilton really? you free tonight? to uncross the wires, of course

yourusername for you? absolutely

lewishamilton pick you up at 7 x

messages ->

instagram ->

yourusername 📍 london

liked by carmenmmundt, yourfriend1, and others

yourusername pics i sent to my mother this week 🍒

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user33 oh god this is so cute

user34 is she lewis' gf?

user35 apparently

user36 the caption awww

user37 her mother? true coz she's so young 👶

user38 😂😂😂😂

user39 oh please 🙄

user40 the love note on the napkin... ur sick omg

user41 sooooooo dreamy oh my god

liked by yourusername

user42 awww y/n liked this comment 🥹

yourfriend2 been swept off your feet? 👀

yourusername ask me again in a week

yourfriend2 😂 trust me, i will

user43 OMG?

user44 how is she so gorgeous wow

user45 cant get past her being younger than me 😭

user46 some of u guys are wayyy too obsessed with her age?? it's getting weird

liked by yourusername

user47 she liked this...

user48 yup she's sick of it too 🤷‍♀️

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lewishamilton, yourfriend2, and others

user49 CUUUUUTE

user50 ugh lewis is so doting bf

user51 he adores u girl

user52 luckiest girl on the planet

carmenmmundt & where are you now, missy?

yourusername budapest babe

carmenmmundt BUDA WHERE?

yourusername hm? 😇

carmenmmundt oh i will be seeing you this weekend

yourusername …

twitter ->

instagram ->

yourusername posted a story

liked by lewishamilton, carmenmmundt, and others

user58 oh my god 🥺

user59 WHAT THE HELL THIS IS SO CUTE

user60 we lost him folks

carmenmmundt oh i called it 😊

yourusername shoo!!!

mercedesamgf1 💙💙

liked by yourusername

user61 i love them omg

user62 the most gorgeous couple

lewishamilton 📍 budapest

liked by georgerussell63, yourusername, and others

lewishamilton back up on the podium, what a weekend!

tagged: yourusername, mercedesamgf1

view all comments

user63 AHHH he's whipped for her tbh

user64 omg two pics of her 👀

carmenmmundt lucky charm!!!!

liked by yourusername

lewishamilton seems that way yea 🩷

georgerussell63 congrats man what a race 🫶

lewishamilton 💙💙💙

user65 aww a roscoe appearance so cute

charles_leclerc congrats! sending love from leo to the both of you ;)

liked by yourusername

lewishamilton big love! ❤️

user66 soooooo cute

oscarpiastri so honoured to share the podium with you this weekend lewis!! & so great to meet y/n of course

lewishamilton pleasure was all mine! will see you up there again im sure 🔥

yourusername ❤️❤️❤️

user67 WTFFFF

user68 so cute & supportive i love this sport

yourusername so proud 🫶🫶🫶🫶🫶

lewishamilton my lucky charm 💙 thanks for being there

yourusername oh im so honoured just to be invited!! you were amazing out there x

lewishamilton that's all i ever want to hear from u😉

yourusername 🥹🥹🥹🥹

THE END 💙