#yes both ❤️ love and light

[nandysparadox]

don't blame the siren, it's hard to get the details right when your target has beeswax in his ears :)

(ive had this idea for a while, initially i envisioned it as a gif/animation, but i admit that's above my skill level '^^ so i did what i could)

idea from one of my convos with @glacierruler - storm is the realest one for listening to all my rambles about epic 😆❤️

[strang3lov3]

Clean

Joel makes a mess on you, then keeps you in the bathtub until the water goes cold. (3k)

Tags - dark!joel, one shot, smut, fingering, come shot, manspreading, masturbation, overstimulation, forced orgasms, dubconnnnnn, daddy kink, innocence kink, inexperienced reader, biiiig girthy yet unspecified age gap, weird feelings and some good ol' fashioned shame, hitting, Joel is fatherly in a hot and disgusting way, calls himself 'your old man', gratuitous use of the nickname 'kiddo'. Say the affirmation with me: The ickier it is, the harder I nut.#bushnation, MORE DEPECHE MODE REFERENCES. TRY AND STOP ME. Like car sex, I write bathtub sex uniquely in that I’m not bound by bullshit ass physics or logic so yes, both people fit in the tub and everything is fine. Reader is bathed by Joel, her hair is washed and finger-combed by him too, but length and texture are not described. This was a decroded fic for me to make i can't lie Fic help - @endlessthxxghts, thank you for always seeing my disgusting visions and giving me your eyeballs A/N - thank you for all the birthday wishes, dear friends in my phone! I celebrated with you all last year when I was writing Mall Rats and it’s special that a lot of you are still with me today, but some I have new friends too ❤️ I love you. Having readers like you in my corner all this time has been beyond special and so rewarding and I hope you know I mean it when I say that I love you.

You’re washing the dishes tonight, your least favorite of the chores Joel makes you do. You prefer doing laundry or plucking the weeds with him, because he lets you collect flowers and put them in vases. He even taught you how to press them between heavy books, and how to frame them nicely. 

Joel calls your name from upstairs. You quickly wash and dry your hands, then scurry up the steps. His door is closed almost all of the way, just a small sliver of light peeks from his room into the dark hallway. “Joel?”

“In here, sweetheart. Need ya for somethin’.” 

You push open the door the rest of the way, and Joel’s naked and sitting upright on the edge of his bed, cock in hand with his bare thighs spread wide. He’s grunting as he squeezes the base, the tip all flushed and swollen. “C’mere. Switch me spots.” 

You don’t yet obey his order. You’ve seen Joel’s cock before, seen him masturbate before, too. Despite that, it still makes you feel nervous to see him and be with him like this. It gives you that icky feeling in your gut and makes you breathe funny. 

“C’mon. You know it ain’t gonna bite ya, kiddo.” Joel stands up  and pats the spot on the bed. “Sit,” he says, his tone sharper than before. “Need somethin’ pretty to come on.”

 Joel doesn’t like repeating himself. You won’t make him ask a third time. 

You sit on the bed, the covers warmed and slightly damp by Joel’s body heat don’t comfort you. He stands in front of you, rock-hard cock bouncing in his loose grip. “Why don’t you give me a hand this time,” he says, reaching for your wrist. He pulls it up to waist level, then wraps your palm around his member, closing your fingers tightly. “Ohhh, fuck,” Joel groans from deep in his chest. Loudly, he breathes in and out through his nose as he twists your hand up and down his shaft. “Jus’ like this. That’s a good girl.” 

This is, however, the first time you’ve ever felt his cock. All of your firsts with Joel have never gone the way you thought they would. The first time he saw you naked, touched you, or that you saw him - it was all surreal and rather abrupt. Joel tells you things like this are always a little new and funny at first. 

His cock feels heavy in your palm. You think about the things you like about it - the warmth, all of his veins and ridges, how smooth and soft the head is. But it’s a little sticky, too, which is unexpected to you. 

“Alright, alright. S’enough,” Joel says, pulling your hand away. “Lift up your shirt.”

You lift your shirt, pushing it up your torso until it’s bunched just beneath your breasts. “Nuh-uh. Like this,” Joel murmurs, pushing the garment up above your chest, exposing yourself entirely to him. He rubs his thumb in circles over both of your nipples so that they pebble under his touch, then gropes and squeezes your flesh. “Lie back,” Joel says, pushing you down on the bed. “Attagirl.”

You watch as Joel pumps his cock above you, the end of his fist slapping against his softened belly repeatedly. He breathes heavily, and his dark eyes are wild like an animal as his gaze is fixed on your naked form. Joel breathes quicker as he approaches his release, grunting a slew of swears he doesn’t allow you to say. “Fuck, goddamn. Oh, goddamn,” he hisses as ropes of his hot come spurt onto your body. He covers you like a canvas; his favorite painting, and for his eyes only. 

Joel collects a bit of his spend up with his first two fingers. “Give it a taste,” he says. “Want you to try it.”

You open your mouth, and Joel pushes his calloused digits inside, painting your tongue with his come. “Suck,” he says, and you do. You furrow your brows at the salty, bitter flavor, how it tastes dissimilar from its scent. “Don’t like it?”

You shake your head. “I don’t think so.”

Joel chuckles, cupping your jaw and rubbing his thumb along your cheekbone. “S’okay. Y’don’t have to.” Joel yawns then, patting your cheek gently with his weathered hand. “C’mon, kiddo. Bath time. Daddy made a mess a’ ya, didn’t he?”

Joel walks you to the bathroom with him, holding your hand the whole time. He puts the little rubber stopper in the drain of the bathtub, then turns the water on. “Warmer, pl-”

“Don’t need a reminder, sweetheart. Know you like it hot. Daddy won’t let you freeze.”

“And bubbles.”

“I know, baby girl. I won’t forget your bubbles.”

As the bathtub fills, Joel opens the oak cabinet under the sink and pulls out the old bottle of bubble bath, the one he’s been refilling just for you. He pours a capful under the water, bubbles immediately building. It smells mostly of nothing, but a bit of that original bubblegum scent remains. Your image reflected in the mirror begins to blur as steam fills the bathroom, and when the tub is full, Joel shuts off the water. He helps you undress and then gets in the tub first, carefully lowering himself until he’s sat with his back against the wall. “Jesus, s’hot. Gonna turn us both into soup,” Joel laughs. You smile shyly. 

 He spreads his legs, then outstretches his arm to you. “C’mon. Hop in.” You take Joel’s hand, squeezing it while wobbling a little on your one foot as you step into the bath. “I gotcha, kiddo,” he says. 

The water is warm on your feet, nearly burning you but you enjoy the tingle. Joel helps you down, lowering you until you’re submerged in the water, your back against his warm chest, his thick package pressing against your ass. 

Joel fills an old, plastic measuring cup with the soapy bath water and brings a hand to your chin, tilting your head back so he can rinse your hair. The hot water feels soothing on your scalp, and Joel repeats the action until your hair is soaked all the way through and dripping down your back. 

You giggle at the noise the bottle of shampoo makes when Joel squirts a bit into his hand. He lathers it between his palms, then scrubs your scalp. “Eyes closed, kiddo. Don’t wanna hurt ya,” he whispers. 

Your eyes flutter shut as Joel works the soap into your hair, scrubbing your scalp all over. He alternates between scratching you gently with his dull nails, to massaging you with the tips of his fingers. He uses his thumbs to rub the base of your skull in circles, the other four fingers of each hand drawing lines up and down and all over. Once Joel’s built a thick lather, he uses the same plastic cup to rinse out the shampoo.  

He conditions your hair next, working the cream into the strands. He uses his fingers to loosely detangle, “Ow, daddy,” you complain as he tugs on a knot. 

“I know, I know. M’sorry, baby girl.” Joel presses a kiss to your forehead. “Was an’ accident. M’tryin’ to be gentle.” He rinses out the conditioner next, “Grab me that bar of soap, will ya?” he asks. 

“Mhm.” You lean forward and reach for the orangish, rectangular bar of soap in front of you on the shower niche, then grab it and hold it over your shoulder. 

Joel takes the soap, “Thank ya kindly, darlin’.”  He dips it in the soapy bathwater before lathering it between his palms that are already beginning to prune. Gently, he pushes you forward to scrub your back and your neck, then pulls you right back into himself. “Gimme an arm,” he says, a slight rasp in his voice. You raise your arm for him and he washes you with the lather, “An’ the other,” Joel adds, now washing your other arm, massaging you with his strong hands. “Here-” Joel taps your shoulder with the soap. “Your daddy’s gettin’ old,” he grumbles. “Can’t bend like he used to. Wash your legs f’me, sweetheart.” 

“Okay,” you murmur, taking the soap back from him. You lather the soap just like Joel did, then wash your legs one at a time, bending them at the knees. When done, Joel reaches over you to take the soap back. He pulls you back against his soft middle and puts his soapy hands on your torso, sliding them up and down your skin, washing off his now dried spend. He groans quietly as he washes your breasts, kneading the flesh there and circling your nipples with his slippery fingers. You feel his cock twitch against you. 

Joel washes down, down your stomach. “Spread ‘em,” he says, and you part your legs wider. Your stomach jumps when his hands rub past your pubic hair and he washes your folds, that soft, private place between your thighs. You whimper when his thumb catches your clit. 

“That feel nice, kiddo?”

Your breath hitches in your throat as you search for an answer. 

“I-”

“You can tell your old man. I know it does,” Joel coos, rubbing his thumb left and right over your clit. You lean your head back and turn your head to the side, burying yourself in his bicep as you whine. “You don’t take much at all, do ya, sweetheart?”

Joel’s made you come before. It’s one of the first things he did when he brought you home, actually. But you amaze him every time, how quickly and easily you fall apart on his fingertips. He thinks about tasting you for the first time, how sweet you’ll be on his tongue. Or his cock, down your throat or between your thighs and splitting you in two. God, you’ve so much to learn, and Joel gets to walk you through it all. His favorite innocence. 

Joel adjusts you both so that you’re sitting more upright and he can reach around you with both hands. “Rest on me,” he says, pressing the side of your head against his so that his scruff is tickling you, but not scratching you. It’s too long for that.

 Joel peers over your shoulder to watch what he’s doing, and to watch how you react. Your soft tummy rising and falling with big breaths, thighs twitching. Joel circles your clit with his middle and ring fingers, patiently working you up. “How’s that feelin’?” he asks, “Can you tell daddy?”

“Mm,” you hum, “Yeah…”

Joel chuckles, dragging the tip of his aquiline nose along the side of your face. “Use your words, baby girl,” he instructs. “Good girls use their words, hm?”

“Feels g- feels good,” you whimper, voice breaking as Joel works you. He rubs your clit faster now, and you’re rocking against his palm, splashing the water a little. 

Joel brings his other hand to your core and lines two fingers up with your entrance, slowly pushing in while he massages your clit. You wince in pain, squeezing his bicep as he pushes them in further. 

Joel hums in sympathy. Being in the bath means you’re not a slick, slippery mess like usual. “Know it hurts, kiddo, but you gotta get used to it.” Joel’s fingers are all the way inside you now, and he pulls them back out. “You’ll get used to it,” he drawls, now pumping those fingers in and out of you, slowly. “You’re bein’ so brave for me, baby girl.” 

The ache of Joel’s fingers stretching you out dissipates eventually, and he changes the action - instead of drawing his fingers in and out of your cunt, he curls them repeatedly inside of you - Joel knows you love when he does this to you. 

You moan freely, relishing in the pleasure. Joel’s right, he’s always right. You’re used to him now, and he feels so good. Swirling his fingers around your clit, stroking that sweet spot inside you with the other hand - it takes no more than five minutes until your breathing turns ragged and you feel that hot, sticky feeling in your gut, the one that feels both bad and good all at the same time. 

“Ask for it,” Joel mumbles, reminding you of your manners as he senses how close you are. “Be polite.”

“Please,” you say, “Can I come?”

“‘Course you can, sweetheart. Of course.”

The orgasm washes over you quickly. You come with a symphony of breathy moans, saccharine in nature. Joel’s never heard anything like it, and he’s grateful he has enough of his hearing left to be able to. 

With his weathered, wrinkled fingers, Joel fucks you through your climax until the last of it courses through you. You come down, but Joel doesn’t stop touching you. 

Maybe he thinks it’s not yet over. Joel keeps doing those same tight circles on your clit, and you start to squirm. “Joel–” you wrap your hands around his forearm and attempt to move him, but his strength is far too great for your efforts to mean anything at all.  

“Sit still. You’re givin’ me another one.” 

Joel keeps your back pinned tightly against his hairy chest, your legs spread wide with his hand in between them, patiently swirling his middle and ring fingers around your swollen and over-sensitive clit. Your hips are starting to ache and the sensation of Joel pleasuring you has turned uncomfortable, downright painful. 

“I wanna be done, Joel. I can’t do another one,” you whimper, voice shaking as tears well up in your eyes. There’s nowhere to run, and you know you just have to take it. “I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” he whispers soothingly, his ministrations on your pussy unfaltering. Joel’s holding you back. You’re not supposed to tell him no. “Know you can.”

His words serve more to frustrate you than encourage you. “I. Can’t,” you huff as you try to pull away from him and close your legs shut in the now lukewarm and soapy water, but Joel keeps you in position in his vice grip. 

“Knock it off,” he growls. Joel has to hide his amusement. You’re quick to anger, just like he is. Just like your daddy. “Jus’ relax.”

You’re close, and whether you realize it or not, Joel does. Your twitching legs, the way you’re breathing. Release is right around the corner if you’d just calm yourself down. Poor thing. You always did struggle with regulating yourself.

“Get - I told you-“ you interrupt yourself to groan, “You’re not listening to me, daddy. I said I c-can’t fucking—” you don’t finish the sentence and instead seethe in frustration, jerking and splashing bath water onto the floor. “F-”

Joel slaps your cheek, hard. “Easy,” he scolds, “I didn’t raise you to speak to me like that.” Joel his nose against the side of your head and bites your ear, the way a dog does with a pup. A warning. “An’ I don’t have to listen to you. You listen to me,” he adds. “Adjust the fuckin’ attitude and try it again before you piss me off.”

Your voice cracks as you whimper Joel’s name, a sob then escaping your chest. Your cheek stings and tingles, like you never stopped feeling the impact of Joel’s hand meeting your skin. 

“Don’t start cryin’, just breathe. Breathe. Go slow,” Joel instructs, pleased when you inhale steadily. On your exhale, Joel whispers, “You need me to talk you through it?”

You nod against him, sniffling. “Then I’ll talk you through it. Focus on my voice, focus right here, kiddo,” he tells you. “Relax, just a minute. Calm yourself.”

You rest against Joel, and he pauses his ministrations on your clit. “I can’t do it again, Joel,” you plead. “I don’t think I can.” 

“I know what you think. It don’t matter, ‘cause it ain’t up to you, sweetheart. We’re tryin’ it again.” 

Joel restarts, circling and massaging your clit with that same pressure from before. And just like before, it’s uncomfortable. It hurts, and you don’t like it. 

“Lean into it, sweetheart. Let it ride.” 

Frustrated, you shake your head. “Daddy–”

“You need to let it happen. Got all night, sweetheart. Water’s gettin’ cold.” 

“Joel.” Your voice cracks.

Joel ignores you. He pumps his fingers, focusing specifically on your g-spot as he knows how sensitive you are there. Your protests begin to quiet, replaced by soft noises of pleasure. “There it is,” Joel purrs. “Make those pretty noises for me. You’re doin’ good.” 

Pleasure begins to build, just like Joel said it would. It almost makes you mad, mad that he’s right. Always right. Mad that Joel knows your body like the back of his hand, better than you do. The stubborn part of you wants to stave off release, but a bigger part of you doesn’t wanna fight Joel on this. You don’t like to fight with him anyway. You always lose. So, you allow yourself to bask in the pleasure Joel knew you’d feel.

“You gonna come one more time? You gonna come on daddy’s fingers?”

“Yeah,” you nod. Your eyes squeeze shut as the feeling builds, almost exponentially. Your gasps and moans halt and there it is - Joel’s pulled another orgasm from your body. More powerful than before, the feeling washes over you like the tide, waves of warmth and electricity flowing over your body with each movement of Joel’s fingers. “Yeah, attagirl,” he breathes. “Manners, sweetheart. What do you say?” 

“Thank you,” you whisper, out of breath. 

Joel rinses you with the water as you come down from your second orgasm of the evening. He taps you twice on the hip, “Up,” he says, and you stand up on shaky legs. 

Joel reaches for an old, floral-patterned towel and dries himself off first, then wraps it around his waist, thick belly bulging over the edge of the fabric. He grabs another towel for you next, drying your legs and arms one at a time before wrapping the towel snugly around your shoulders. 

“You finish those dishes?” Joel asks, pulling the drain stopper out of the tub. 

“Not all of them,” you answer. “I’m sorry.” 

“Nah, don’t you worry ‘bout it. I’ll do the rest, hm?” 

You wear a small smile, “Okay.”

“An’ I was thinkin’ that I could make us popcorn, like you like. Put on a movie. One of those girly ones I picked out for you, huh?”

Your smile grows. “Yeah,” you answer. 

Joel smiles too. “Good. Let’s get you dressed, then.” 

thank you for reading! please consider engaging by reblogging, hopping in my inbox, and/or commenting. your words go so far in keeping me motivated to write ♡

More dark!joel

[aurorawritestoescape]

SWEET CHERRY || Joel Miller x f!reader || 4,8k

Summary: Joel takes your virginity. Gently, slowly, talking you through it.

Tw: 18+ mdni, smut, fluff, pwp, big not specified legal age gap, virginity loss, insecure reader, soft!Joel, soft!dom vibes, praise kink, size kink, mirror sex, f/m oral, fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up), creampie, aftercare. Pics are only for the mood, reader has no physical description.

A/n: here’s my first virginity loss fic, friends! Hope you will like it❤️ Joel whispers ‘thank you’ into @milla-frenchy ‘s ear for beta-ing😘 Dividers by @saradika-graphics 💕

MASTERLIST

Joel is waiting for you in his truck, parked a block away from your house. He told you once that you didn’t want anyone to see you with an old man like himself. You kissed his scruffy cheek that time and assured him that he wasn’t old. Yes, he was older than you, much much older but you were an adult, very mature for your age and also you didn’t care. You loved him.

Joel is a real man, not like the silly boys who always try to pick you up. He looks like a real man, with gray patches in his stubble, his tired piercing eyes and wrinkles around them that you love to kiss so much. His body, big and broad, can easily envelop you whole like a warm cloud. The cloud usually smells like cigarettes and whiskey but you tell yourself, "he smells like a real man," and when you nuzzle his neck, that scent alone makes you soak your panties.

You hop into his truck with the happiest smile on your face, excitement and nerves swirling in your stomach. You’re wearing a red lacy set to show him how mature you are underneath his favorite dress, white with little red cherries on it. Joel always compliments you when you wear it and makes sure to kiss every single cherry on your chest.

Today is the day Joel is going to pop your cherry. You’re going to lose your virginity to the love of your life.

Joel greets you with a soft kiss, and while you’re a little hazy from his taste in your mouth, he starts the car.

“Where are we going?” you ask but you don’t really care. You’d go anywhere with him.

“A motel, baby. Only the best for ya.”

You almost squeal at the idea of you two having a whole room to yourselves. You usually spend time in his truck or he drives you to the outskirts of the town, far from the prying eyes. You love it there— lying on the soft grass and stargazing with his strong arms wrapped around you.

Joel is a man and men have needs so you give him a handie now and then but he never makes you do anything you don’t want to. He’s a gentleman.

He’s getting a room while you’re waiting for him outside of the reception, nervously pacing a spot at the parking lot. What if you fuck up and he sees that you’re just a silly girl, too young for him? What if it hurts too much? You’ve practiced with a toy but you know he’s much bigger.

You’re chewing on your lower lip, widened eyes glued to the ground, and miss the moment when Joel comes up to you.

"Penny for your thoughts, sweetheart?" he cups your cheek, searching for your eyes, and you smile, enjoying the warmth of his giant palm in spite of the Texas sun, beating down on you both.

"Just a little nervous," you admit, looking up at his handsome face. Joel gives you an understanding smile and his gruff voice immediately calms you down when he says,

"Don't be, darlin’. I'll be gentle with you. And we can stop whenever you want."

“‘k,” you mumble with a nod and take a deep breath. You want it and you know, it will be perfect.

The motel room smells like cigarette smoke and old furniture but you don’t mind. You don’t care about its peeling off wallpaper, the flickering lights in the bathroom or the stained bedding with a pattern that looks like spider webs. You’re staring at it with disgust on your face, wondering who would choose such an ugly cover.

Two big hands on your hips bring you back from your thoughts and move you around. Joel locks eyes with you, his gaze piercing and curious.

“You’re so quiet today, babygirl. Sure you wanna do this?”

“Yes, Joel. Please,” you reply hastily, scared he’ll change his mind.

He gives you a little smile and pinches your chin between his thick fingers. His touch, his scent, his gaze, everything about him washes away your fears and worries. He’s huge and safe and you trust him to make this day special. For the both of you.

He leans down and kisses you, his lips warm and slightly chafed, his stubble and scruffy beard rubbing your sensitive skin but you’re enjoying him too much to notice. Like a little flower you are reaching up to your only sun - him. You’re drunk on the sensation of his tongue, licking assertively into your moaning mouth. Your pussy tingles and you feel yourself gush more and more. With Joel’s lips brushing the corner of your mouth you hear him whisper, “Ready, sweetheart?”

You nod, rubbing your cheek against his and then follow him to the bed, your little hand in his, giant, warm.

Joel sits down and you stand between his spread thighs. You nervously shift on your feet under his dark gaze as he looks you up and down and bucks his hips. His bulge is huge and you swallow loudly.

“Can I take your dress off, babygirl?”

With a quiet ‘yes’ you turn around so he could unzip you. You’re facing a mirror now, hanging on a wardrobe door, eyes locked with your reflection. Fear and anxiety paint your features so you take a deep breath again, not wanting to look like a scared little mouse. You want him to see you ready for what you two are about to do.

You giggle when Joel’s knuckles graze your soft skin, tickling you, gliding down along your back as your body erupts in goosebumps. Joel acknowledges your reaction with a soft chuckle and then his warm lips press to your exposed waist. You smile, helping him take your dress off.

“Fuck,” Joel mumbles as you turn around to face him, “I’m sorry, darlin’,” he apologises for the cursing as his obsidian eyes are gliding over your body, wrapped in the red lace as if you’re a present gifted to him. “You’re making my head spin. Are ya wearin’ it for me, baby?”

You reply with a shy ‘yes’ and he groans, palming himself.

“Naughty girl. Killing me over here,” he fake complains, wetting his lower lip.

His lustful gaze, barely noticeable shaking of his gruff voice, his bulge growing in his jeans— all the signs of his desire make your heart sing and core burn with need.

“Please, Joel.” You press your thighs together, desperate for any pressure, and he nods,

“Yes, babygirl, I know, I know. Let’s make you feel good.”

His palms placed on your hips turn you around, so you’d face the mirror again, and he pulls you down on his lap. You bite your lip, when his stiffness twitches under your left asscheek, and take a sharp breath, being reminded of how huge his cock is. Will you be able to take him?

As if reading your mind, Joel rasps against your shoulder,

“I’m big, honey, but ain’t nothing to worry about. We gonna get ya ready, yeah?”

“Yes, Joel, I trust you.”

“‘s good, babygirl. Jus’ relax and let me do the work.”

You whimper, imagining ‘the work’ he’s about to do. With a hum Joel places his hands on your inner thighs and spreads them apart. You lift your head from his hands to the reflection of you two in the mirror. You’re sitting on his lap, so small in comparison with his huge frame. He’s nuzzling the crease of your neck, and your nipples perk up under the thin fabric of your bra. His scent, his body make your pussy melt into your panties and your fear you’re going to soak them through and stain his jeans.

Your gasp breaks the silence in the room when you see and feel his hand slither to the apex of your thighs. With one arm wrapped around your waist, Joel cups your clothed pussy with the other hand and you breathe out his name.

“Yes, sweetheart, I’m right here. Fuck, ya soaked.” He gently sucks on your neck, stroking your seam with his thumb through a red lace, covering your pussy. You mewl and wriggle in his lap impatiently and he growls, when his cock twitches under your ass.

“Shh, I’ve got you, baby.”

His thumb slides under your panties and he pulls the gusset to the side exposing your wet folds to his and your eyes in the mirror.

He’s never gone that far, never seen you like this and your whole body vibrates with a heady mix of excitement and nerves. Your cheeks burn as embarrassment adds to all the emotions that are swirling in your stomach. You’ve never been that exposed for anyone, no one has ever witnessed your wet desire, coating your folds. As if sensing your discomfort Joel starts whispering words of reassurance in your ear, his gaze set on your glistening cunt in the mirror.

“Look at this pretty pussy, fuck, she’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, sweetheart.”

You whine, trying to close your legs but he stops you, his hand pressing on your inner thigh, rubbing your skin there.

“She’s crying for me, see? My cock’s cryin’ for her too. And I’ll make her feel good, baby. Gonna make her drool even more.”

You nod, fluttering your eyes shut at the sensations of his thick fingers grazing your hardening clit just barely. Suddenly Joel slightly bites on your earlobe and rasps,

“Open your eyes, babygirl. Want you to see how I’m gonna make you come.”

You do what he says and see the hand rise up from your belly to your chest and he pulls your bra down, exposing your breasts. He groans at the sight of your pebbled nipples and kneads your tit with his warm palm.

The other hand returns to your soft pussy and he starts stroking your twitching clit with his thumb.

He’s playing you like his guitar, making you sing for him with a calloused pad of his finger, brushing over your bud up and down, up and down, like it’s a string of his favorite instrument, at the same time twitching your nipples. His movements are slow and gentle but precise and determined, and you’re reduced to a moaning crying mess in a matter of seconds.

“Please, please, please— ,” you’re begging, barely breathing, lips brushing his scruffy cheek. You can’t watch him and you in the mirror anymore, it’s too much for your mind, for your eyes. You try to pace yourself, nuzzling his face.

“Yes, baby, I’ll make you come, soon. So soon,” he replies to your pleas as his tongue licks your lower lip and you open your mouth, letting him in. He’s kissing you passionately as he shifts his hand a little, making his fingers cover your sopping hole while his thumb is playing with your clit.

Joel traces your entrance with his middle finger and then slowly pushes it in. You gasp at the sensation and your walls clench hard around it, as he’s inserting it to the knuckle.

“Already warm and wet. Good girl.”

You dare to glance in the mirror and you see him plunge his digit in and out of your tight weeping hole, slowly, with a steady rhythm.

“Have ya been practicing like I asked you, babygirl?”

“Yes,” you reply with your brows pulled together and mouth slightly opened.

“Yeah, I see that,” he smiles into your cheek, “ya taking me well. We can add another one.”

As soon as he says it, his index finger joins the middle one in your slicked up channel and you feel the stretch, though it burns just a little, and you smile with relief.

Joel continues fingering you, and, to your horror, you hear squelching sounds, coming from your pussy. The pleasure is growing but you mewl with embarrassment, “Oh, no.”

Joel’s quick to comfort you, whispering in your ear,

“‘s a great sound, babygirl. Means she’s ready for me. All this juice gonna help me slide right inside ya.”

You nod and tilt your head back, resting it on his shoulder. Your eyes flutter shut as his movements take you higher with every pump. Everything disappears, what’s left is only you and him, his fingers in your pussy, his broad chest at your back, his thick cock pulsating under your ass. You're so gone with ecstasy, that you don’t notice the third finger inserted into your widening hole.

“Gonna make you come now, sweetheart,” Joel gruffs and curves his fingers. He starts shaking his hand, not moving his digits in and out but keeping them hooked into your pussy, making vibrations with his hand. He’s hitting your clit with the heel of his palm and soon you unravel, crying and shaking so hard he has to keep you on his lap, holding you with his strong arm wrapped around your torso. Your face is twisted in euphoria but you don’t see it, your surroundings morph into a burst of fireworks behind your eyelids. Of course you had good orgasms before but never such a hard one.

Joel hums with satisfaction, kissing your temple, your cheek, your half opened lips, mumbling,

“That’s my girl… yeah, c’mon… god, she’s squeezing me hard… perfect little pussy.”

He’s embracing you tight through the aftershocks and when you finally still, he cups your sloppy cunt and holds it, keeping it warm as his whole body slightly sways from side to side. The motion is lulling you to sleep. Pleasant tingling in your body, his arms, which are giving you comfort, his heart, beating with a steady rhythm against your back, all of it makes your eyes close and you fall into darkness.

Joel wakes you up with a kiss on your lips as if you’re his Sleeping Beauty. You’re lying on the motel bed and your Prince Charming’s hard cock is poking your thigh. Joel got undressed while you were out and as you sit up, rubbing your eyes, you can’t help but ogle his tan chest with dark hair, gray patches here and there, his broad shoulders, his soft belly and a gorgeous cock. It’s long and thick and your pussy clenches with a mixture of fear and arousal. His red wet tip makes you want to wrap your lips around it but you’re too shy to ask.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you mumble. “How long was I asleep?”

“Don’t worry. Just a few minutes. And my eyes are over here,” Joel says with a chuckle and you realize that you’ve been talking to his cock the whole time. You smile, raising your eyes to his, feeling your cheeks heat up and he rubs your shoulder,

“‘s ok, sweetie. You can look.”

He brings his hand to his bobbing member and gives it a few pumps. You see a clear drop of precum bead and involuntarily lick your lips.

He notices it and smirks, “oh, baby.”

You get bold and ask with your eyes only, they dart from his cock to his eyes.

“Yes, baby, you can play with it a little. But not too long. ‘m afraid I’ll come too soon like that and we need to put it in your needy pussy first, yeah?”

You nod and hastily sit on your hinges, getting comfortable. You hover your mouth over his glistening mushroom and then wrap your lips around it. Your tongue gently dances over the slit as you drink his salty juice. The taste sends a new surge of arousal to your entrance and you shift on your knees, feeling wetness pool between your folds and thighs. Like a shark feeling blood, Joel brings his hand to your ass and glides his palm over the globes of your cheeks and then slides his hand between your messy folds. You push your hips back, rubbing yourself against his palm and at the same time taking him further into your mouth, licking the underside sloppily, drooling over his stiffness.

“Oh, fuck, hnggg,” you hear Joel’s groan and then he slightly slaps your folds, getting your attention.

“Easy, baby, or I’m gonna feed ya all of my cum. And we want it here today,” he gives your pussy another light slap from the back and you moan, pulling away from his cock.

The next second he sits up and hastily says,

“I want one more orgasm from you. And we’ll be good to go.”

His hands gently push you to lie down and he helps to slide your bra and panties off. You take a sharp breath when the air of the room hits your soaked folds, your pussy getting completely exposed to him.

“Look at you,” Joel’s dark gaze is taking in your naked breasts, a heaving belly, and a puffy cunt, dripping for him onto the sheets.

He brings his calloused palm to your throat and slowly glides it down, barely touching your chest, grazes your perked up nipples, then moves down to your stomach and the mound and then slithers between your thighs. He cups your pussy again and you whimper when he places his index and middle finger on your folds and presses your clit between them with his thick digits. He starts rubbing it over your pussy lips, moving his hand up and down, and you moan. Your eyes roll back as you concentrate on another orgasm building but soon they open wide when you feel his mouth on your folds and clit.

He flicks the peeking out bud with his tongue and sucks on it. Then he pulls his fingers away, gets comfortable between your thighs and starts licking you in earnest, rubbing your clit with the flat of his wet hot tongue. You clutch his graying curls with your fingers and hold on to him, afraid to float away, because of the immense pleasure he’s giving you.

“Ahh, Joel— please— so good— oh my god,” a string of moans and pleas is leaving your mouth, but he slaps the side of your ass and growls into your throbbing cunt,

“Wanna come? Take it from me, babygirl, c’mon.” With that he opens his mouth with his tongue sticking out and starts moving your hips up and down, as your pussy is grinding against his strong muscle. Then his hands leave you and you whine.

“I said, use me. Use my mouth, babygirl,” Joel commands and, desperate for another release, you swiftly follow his order and begin moving your hips up and down, making your dripping cunt roll against his tongue, lips, mustache and scruffy chin, chasing your high, feverishly.

A content smile tugs at his slicked up lips when he sees you take control, using him for your pleasure, and he hums with satisfaction when soon you are wriggling on the bed, moaning loudly, as waves of euphoria ripple through your body. You almost sob from the intensity, not able to believe how hard you come with him, as if everything before was bleak and dull and now you finally see the colors around you.

“Joel,” you murmur, your voice is barely audible, and he climbs up your body before taking you in his big strong arms. He’s hot and big against you, all around you, and you nuzzle his hairy chest for a few seconds, catching your breath and resting.

He mumbles his praise against your temple, “my good girl—did so good—came so hard for me.”

You smile and weakly raise your face to his,

“Am I ready, Joel? I want—.”

“Yes, baby? What do you want?”

“You know.”

He pinches your chin between his fingers, keeping your eyes locked with his.

“Wanna hear you say it? Need you to say it.”

“I want you inside me?”

“Are you asking?” he breathes out a chuckle.

“No, Joel. I want you to fuck me.”

“Jesus, babygirl. Ok.”

His face gets serious and he moves to the top of the bed with you in his arms and leans against the headboard. You try to slide off him but he manhandles you to straddle his thighs.

“Jus’ sit in my lap like that,” he gruffs, pressing his chest to yours. You look down and see his cock, nesting between your bodies. The tip smears precum on your belly and you whine with desire.

“It’s so big, Joel. What if I can’t take it?”

“You can. I stretched your pussy good. And we’ll stop if it hurts, ‘k?”

You nod and lightly roll your hips against his hard cock and heavy balls under your entrance.

“Hngg, stop it, little minx. You’ll make me spill the goods too early.”

You give him a mischievous smile and then peck his lips to apologize for your naughtiness but he doesn’t let you pull away and holds you tight, his tongue breaching your lips and stealing your kiss with hunger and love. So much love that you drown in it, in the feeling of his body, his hot skin pressed to yours, his mighty manhood throbbing just for you.

Not breaking the kiss, Joel lifts your body up with his arm around your waist and his hand guides his fat cock to your entrance. Soon you feel his tip nudge your wet hole and he slowly lowers you, spreading your folds with his fat head.

“Hnggg,” Joel roars and his chest vibrates against your squished up breasts. You take a sharp breath as his tip is filling you. A thought flashes in your mind, “it’s not that bad, I can take him,” but he keeps going and soon you’re whining, as your walls spread, your pussy trying to adjust to his girth and you start panting against his lips.

“Joel, it hurts,” you mewl and he stops spearing you with his cock.

“Shhh… you’re doin’ so good, babygirl. Jus’ need to go a little deeper.”

He kisses your lips, you both breathing heavily, as you are trying to fight the dull pain, licking at your core, and Joel is gathering all his strength to keep himself from plunging his cock as deep as possible.

“Fuck, ya tight. Never felt anything like this sweet cunt, baby,” he groans through gritted teeth, “Shoulda done it earlier. Coulda been balls deep in you every day by now.”

“Oh, Joel,” you whimper at his filthy words but the fire burning your insides is slowly morphing into pleasure, as he begins fucking up into you, getting deeper inch by inch. Your nails dig into his biceps, the sensation so overwhelming you’re afraid you might faint. Joel’s lips brush your cheek as he mumbles through the panting,

“Can you— hnggg, sit on my cock, sweetie, don’t wanna hurt ya, c’mon,” he grunts as his hands roam your body, sliding to your ass as he spreads your cheeks and you feel the air cooling your soaked folds and holes.

“Yeah, ok, I’ll try.”

You’d do anything for him right now. In need of his support, you take his face between your sweaty palms and search for his hazy eyes. Your thumbs rub his scruffy cheeks as you’re getting lost in his dark lustful eyes and, knowing that your pussy is close to swallowing his cock fully, you take a final step. You lower your body, piercing your crying cunt with his manhood. His big balls twitch, flush with your ass, and you gasp at the fullness you’re experiencing. You both moan loudly before Joel’s mouth crushes against yours and he’s drinking your whimpers, returning them with his own grunts.

“Fuckin’ hell, baby, you’re perfect for my cock,” Joel is praising you but the adrenaline coursing in your veins pulls you down into the pits of euphoria and you barely hear him. Your gaze falls to the place where you two are joined, your folds spread widely around his glistening base, surrounded by dark wet hair, and the sight, the sensation make you bite your lower lip till you taste metal on your tongue. You flutter your eyes shut but Joel calls for you,

“Baby, come back to me.”

You look at his face twisted in pleasure as he grunts, “Gonna fuck you now, darlin’. Can’t wait anymore.”

You nod and his hands slither under your ass before he starts moving you up and down his cock, your tight cunt massaging it. His strong arms lift you so easily, his muscles bulging as you’re holding on to them.

Joel’s forehead is covered in sweat, some of his curls sticking to it, as he’s groaning and swearing, pushing his member into you again and again.

You softly mewl with every kisshis tip is giving to your cervix, and you revel in the pleasure when he reaches something hidden and ecstatic inside your core.

“Gonna come, Joel!” you almost cry out, as he is taking you higher.

“Not yet, babygirl. Want you to fuck yourself on my cock. Ride me.”

“How? I— I don’t know if I can,” you breathe out, your eyebrows pulled together, as your gaze darts between his eyes.

“Jus’ bounce on it, like that.” Joel grabs your hips with his bear hands and shows you how to do it, guiding you. You follow his movements and soon you’re lifting and lowering your hips, pussy sliding up and down his huge manhood, as Joel leans back on the headboard and watches you work his cock, his eyes hazy but fully focused on you.

To steady yourself you brace your hands on his broad chest and scratch his skin with your nails, when your pussy starts clamping around a man’s cock for the first time in your life. You sob through moans, as euphoria is shaking your body and Joel’s hands keep you from falling off him, when you’re trembling hard in his lap.

“Yes, yes—I’m here, baby—I gotch ya—ahhh, keep squeezing my cock— your little cunt is drooling all over me— shit, gonna come—“ he chokes on his words and you suddenly feel warmth spread inside your contracting pussy. It’s such a great sensation when he fills up your already full cunt and you don’t stop jumping on his cock, churning his warm load deep inside you, squelching sounds mixing with Joel’s grunts and your whimpers.

Your juices and his cum soon cover your folds and asscheeks and his thighs get cold and slippery, coated with your joined liquids. You feel filthy and it turns you on so much, that it makes your head spin.

“Joel, hold me, please,” you beg, lowering your torso on his heaving chest and he squirts the last ropes of his cum inside you, his big arms wrapped around your heated up body.

You both descend from your highs, holding each other close, his chest making your whole body rise and fall, his lips pressed to the top of your head.

You’re quiet, completely spent, your limbs tingling as you’re focused on the sensation of your body — a twitch of his cock still buried deep in your cunt, your pussy slightly sore clutching his softening manhood, his skin hot against yours, his warm hands gliding over your back.

“My good girl. So brave. Took me so well.”

You smile at his praise, sighing happily, trying to memorize this moment forever.

“How are you feelin’? You hurtin’?” Joel asks.

“No,” you softly reply, “a little sore but it’s ok.”

“Good. Good,” Joel coos, “Let’s clean you up.”

You nod and he carefully lifts you off his lap, as his cock slides out of your stretched hole, and a trickle of his creamy cum tickles your folds. He lays you down on the bed and gets up with a grunt to get you a wet towel.

When he’s back, you want to take it from him but he shakes his head and cleans you up himself, his movements slow and gentle. His hands wrapped in the soft fabric glide over your skin, attentive to how oversensitive you are.

You watch him take care of you, hearts in your eyes, and you almost physically sense love expand in your chest. Joel’s taking more and more space inside you with every moment your gaze is set on him, every second you breathe. A thought creeps up in your mind, “what if he leaves me? What if this magic that happened between us never repeats?” Tears well up in your eyes as fear grips your heart. But you blink them away hurriedly, scared to worry him. Today is perfect and you want it to stay this way.

You reach your arms to Joel and he joins you on the bed, embracing you in his strong arms. You raise your face to his and he kisses you, wiping away your fears with every caress of his lips.

“Thank you, babygirl. For giving yourself to me. My perfect girl,” he mumbles against your lips.

You hug him as tight as you can, and not believing how lucky you’re, you whisper, nuzzling his neck, “Thank you for making my first time perfect, Joel.”

Soon you fall asleep in his arms, wishing to be with him forever.

Thank you for reading! Please comment and reblog if you enjoyed the fic! Your feedback motivates me so much!😘💕

Masterlist

General tag list: @milla-frenchy @harriedandharassed @iamasaddie @nervousmumbling @bbyanarchist @stevie75 @puduvallee @auteurdelabre @mountainsandmayhem @senoratess @flamingochick55 @theoraekenslover @schnarfer @mermaidgirl30 @staywildflowahchild @yesjazzywazzylove-blog @evolnoomym @keylimebeag @joelmillerisapunk @fruityreads

If you'd like to be tagged in my future fics, let me know!💕

[sunrizef1]

Bed Chem

Pairing: Logan Sargeant x Reader

Warnings: None

Authors Note: Im working lateeee cuz I'm too busy pretending Logan has a seatttt | this took so long actually wtf

TWITTER

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

📍Paris, France

liked by iamrebeccad carlossainz55 and 12,888,999 others

yourusername what a show @givenchy

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user1 mother

user2 my queen

user3 prettyyyyyyyyyyy

user4 🤭

iamrebeccad my fav girl 💋

liked by yourusername

user5 hot

user6 ❤️❤️

user7 I'm in love

user8 the sheer is giving

user9 I love you pls reply 😭

user10 my favvvvvvv I love HERRRRRR

user11 NEW MUSIC PLEASE BAE

carlosainz55 do you know your dress is see-through 😓

yourusername its givenchy!

user12 I need that dress 😭

user13 Y/N WHATS YOUR OPINION ON LOGAN SARGEANT

theweeknd 🔥

liked by yourusername

user14 MY pop icon

——

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

iamrebeccad

🫶

yourusername

ilyyyy 💋

——

carlossainz55

y do u insist on calling me father so much

yourusername

Mama y papa

carlossainz55

what

yourusername

Papa y mama

carlossainz55

Okay

——

MESSAGES

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

NEW MUSIC???????

——

user2

IS THAT JACK????

——

iamrebeccad

Wait!!! What!!!

Can I hear it 🤭

yourusername

Ofc love 🤞

iamrebeccad

Is it about a certain American….

yourusername

Ahhh

Can't say 😶

iamrebeccad

That's a yes to me

——

MESSAGES

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

ARE YOU GOING TO THE RACE QUEEN

——

user2

Logan????

——

carlossainz55

Are you finally coming to a race???

yourusername

I have to be in Paris Sunday for a shoot 🫣

But I will be there the other days

But secretly

So don't tell anyone 😶

carlossainz55

Your secrets safe with me 🤐

——

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername

🎵Paris - Taylor Swift

liked by logansargeant carlossainz55 and 12,999,888 others

yourusername je pense que vous souffrez d'un manque de vitamine moi

load comments…

user15 oui oui oui baguette

user16 viva la France

user17 someone call char lechair

user18 I thought she was gonna be at the race 😓

user19 BESTIE YOUR BOYFRIEND FINISHED 8TH DID YOU SEE

liked by yourusername

user19 SHE LIKED THIS COMMENTTTT

user20 “I think you're suffering from a lack of vitamin me” lmfao the caption

user21 wait what does the paper say????

user22 “I'm so fucking sick of having to hide how deeply I feel and how passionately I love you”

user21 WAIT THATS ADORABLEEEE

user23 my francophile queen

user24 I didn't know the Eiffel tower was so small

user25 this is so aesthetic core

user26 the yellow Parisian lighting really makes it

user27 I can name a certain American who's probably suffering from a lack of you

oscarpiastri oui

yourusername ok

user28 Oscar and y/n: my fav deadpan icons

user29 ooh la la huh huh huh 🥐

user30 are you happy to be in Paris?

yourusername oui

user31 y/n whats your favourite part of Paris

yourusername smells of piss. Constantly.

user32 pretty pretty pretty girl

logansargeant 🇫🇷🥐

liked by yourusername

user33 THE SONG FOR THE POST BEING PARIS BY TAYLOR???? IM SO IN LOVE THAT I MIGHT STOP BREATHING DREW A MAP ON YOUR BEDROOM CEILING???? She's in love!!!!!

——

TWITTER

INSTAGRAM

yourusername added to their story

user1

LOGAN??????

——

user2

boyfriend spotted

——

user3

Soft launch?????

——

user4

don't be shy

Post him on the feed

——

carlossainz55

you're welcome

I was the messenger

I did this

——

yourusername

liked by logansargeant maxverstappen1 and 15,999,800 others

yourusername surprise! My new single “bed chem” is out now… come sleep with me 💋🛏️

load comments…

user34 WOOOOOO

user35 its so good 😭🫶😭😭🫶

user36 LOGANNNNNNNNN

user37 no tag????

user38 the first verse just being the most thinly veiled reference to the givenchy show… like girl 😭

user39 “I was in a sheer dress the day that we met” we've all seen the black dress 🤭

user40 “we were both in a rush we talked for a sec” that one video of them lmfao

user41 “your friend hit me up so we could connect” I say that's Oscar.

user42 Ive chosen to believe its Alex

user43 THIS SONGS ABOUT LOGAN?????

user44 “manifest that you're oversized” I'm going to pretend this isn't about Logan so I still see him again

oscarpiastri a lot of words I don't want to hear about my friend btw

yourusername well… idc

user45 who's the cute guy with the wide blue eyes? 😍

carlossainz55 ive finally made it into a song

liked by yourusername

user46 ok wait but the Paris pic is so cute 😭

user47 those messages are so funny 😭

user48 he only has eyes for his girl 🤭

iamrebeccad SO GOODDDDDD

yourusername 🫶

user49 I sense logie bear

user50 Logan Sargeant hard launch on the feed

logansargeant 🔥

yourusername ��

——

logansargeant added to their story

yourusername

Ily lo 💋💋💋💋

logansargeant

🤭🫶

——

Taglist:

@c-losur3 @llando4norris @lokideservesahug @casperlikej @evie-119 @awritingtree

[charlotteking23]

Pairing: Lando Norris x bride! reader

summary: they are getting married and Y/N surprises Lando by having a nap scheduled into their wedding day 🤭

Requested: yes anonymous

Warnings: Lando being horny and first time writing social media au.

You sat outside the balcony taking in the light breeze and sunny weather. On your lap lay your laptop, which overflowed with a million events for your perfect dream wedding.

Looking at all the events, you made space for an hour's nap. You knew that wasn't enough to keep you awake, so you could only count on coffee.

But nonetheless, you were looking forward to getting married to the love of your life Lando.

It was no secret you had both been head over heels for each other especially Lando.

You decide to go inside after looking at all the food you were to serve to the guests.

The apartment was open with a nice large kitchen and a big living room with a TV, covering the walls and shelves were some of Lando's achievements in F1.

You watch as Lando appears on the other side of the living room before giving you a hug.

"Hey, baby...were you working on the wedding?", Lando said before taking the laptop out of your hand and setting it on the table beside him.

"Just some final touches", you shrug before sitting on the couch.

"Can I see", Lando grinned taking the laptop already. You only nodded in response watching him open your laptop.

You watch his green eyes scan over the laptop in concentration, making sure to get every detail about the schedule.

"hmm...Baby what is this hour nap time", Lando pointed at the laptop in confusion.

"Oh Lan, you know how I love my sleep," You said laying down on his lap as he moved the laptop a little so it didn't hurt you.

"Yes baby", he smiled.

"Well, I needed my nap time," You said closing your eyes.

"During our wedding", Lando laughed at the schedule, which only made you annoyed.

You sat up quickly, "Yes Lando, I must have the nap time unless you want me to be cranky". You looked away mad at Lando laughing at you.

"Sorry for laughing, but now you are my baby", Lando smiled but it only confused you.

"What...What do you mean??", you said questioning his weird sentence.

"Because a baby needs nap time so I can call you baby wife", Lando laughed at your mad face.

"It's not funny", you said before grabbing the pillow from behind you and throwing it directly at Lando's face.

Only for him to throw it back at you and that's how the pillow fight started with you and Lando throwing pillows at each other before, breaking out in giggles with you both on the floor tired and a mess of pillows around you.

liked by Landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 1,938,267 others

yourusername: officially Mrs.Norris 🧡

View all 10,864 comments

Landonorris: My beautiful, amazing baby wife

yourusername: Stop calling me baby wife but I love you>3 Landonorris: Never, Love You too❤

Landonorris: you could beat me up and I'd thank you

Danielriccardo: SIMP 🫵 User1: Stop their so cute

Landonorris: WOOF WOOF

Oscarpiastri: Congratulations, good luck with Lando

Landonorris: I thought we were friends

User2: Can Lando fight

carlossainz55: no he can't Landonorris: stop telling everyone I can't fight Carlos carlossainz55: but it's true mate

User3: I don't want Lando, I want Y/N

User4: I want both

Yourfriend: Congratulations!!

User5: Mother is Mothering

alexandrasaintmleux: Loved being your bridesmaid wishing you both a happy marriage, love you 🩷

Yourusername: love you too 🩷>3 Landonorris: what about me charlesleclerc: 🤔🤔🤔

Kellypiquet: Looking so beautiful, P loved being the flower girl 💐

Yourusername: thank you and P was so cute 🥰

liked by yourusername, McLaren, Oscarpiastri, and 3,987,478 others

Landonorris: To my perfect wife, you make my life complete and put up with my bullshit and I cannot wait to love you forever and ever.

And Yes that's a picture of Y/N sleeping on our wedding day ❤️

View all 12,531 comments

Yourusername: Awww Lando WTF is this, I told you that was my nap time. 😴

Landonorris: Hehehehe

Mclaren: Congratulations and Lando leave Y/N alone

liked by yourusername

Landonorris: But she's my baby wife

Username6: Ms.Rabbit has fainted

Username7: Ms.Rabbit has fainted again.

Username8: LOVE THE DRESS

Username9: THEY ARE SO CUTE!!!

maxfewtrell: Congratulations Lando so happy to be your best man and prayers for Y/N for being able to deal with Lando.

Landonorris: What do you mean, I am an absolute angel 😇 Username10: LMAO Lando and Max

Charles_leclerc: Congrats Mr and Mrs Norris.

Yourusername: You were only invited because of Alex

Liked by Alexandrasaintmleux

Landonorris: It's okay Charles, Y/N's only jealous of our relationship 👨‍❤️‍👨 Carlossainz55: What about us! Did our relationship mean nothing to you 😭

Username11: Best Couple award goes to the Mr and Mrs Norris

Username12: HOW DOES SHE LOOK SO PERFECT EVEN WHEN SLEEPING!!!

liked by landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, and 976,453 others

Yourusername: DJ Norris in the house!!🔥

View all 9,572 comments

landonorris: who is that handsome fellow your kissing, he's looks so fine 🫦

Yourusername: 🙄

charlesleclerc: My eyes, keep it pg there are kids here

maxverstappen1: yeah you 🫵

Username13: how much alcohol was digested for Lando to act like that

danielriccardo: Lando always acts like an idiot Mclaren: I feel bad for Y/N Landonorris: WTF

Landonorris: My baby WIFE looks so hot, my god I want you right now!!

Landonorris: break me, use me, please

Oscarpiastri: Zac said you are banned from using social media

Landonorris: you looked so sexy, baby 🥴

Oscarpiastri: I am scarred for life now Yourusername: look what you did to our poor child charlesleclerc: he's my child, I adopted him Yourusername: Not anymore!! 😒

Username14: Lando is so funny

Username15: And the horniness continuous

francisca.cgomes: Girl you look hot, LUVE YOUU!!

Yourusername: LUVE YOU TOO!!! 🩷

liked by Yourusername, carlossainz55, and 2,628,765 others

Landonorris: Don't worry guys I got my phone back from Mclaren 😄. If anyone was wondering Y/N is fine but she passed out in the middle of the road, way past my baby wife's bedtime😴.

View all 15,382 comments

Yourusername: I'm just a girl 🎀

Landonorris: 😒

danielriccardo: Photo creds where?

Username16: Only Y/N would do this

Username17: She's love's her sleep Username16: probably more than Lando

maxverstappen1: I'm surprised Lando can carry Y/N

Landonorris: I am strong 💪 carlossaniz55: sure mate sure

Username18: seeing Lando being made fun of by Carlos and Max is hilarious.

Username19: Y/N passing out on the road was not on my F1 bingo

Username20: it was on mine

Yourusername: I told you to stop calling me baby wife

Landonorris: but it fits you so well 🥺 Yourusername: really are you making that stupid pout again Landonorris: No.....Yes, pleaseeeeeeeeeeee!! Yourusername: Ugh fine 🙄 Landonorris: good because your name is officially Baby Wife Norris 😁

Username21: giggling and kicking my feet seeing how cute they are😊

Username22: I am too single to be here

Landonorris: OH MY GOD

Landonorris: I want her to wrap her legs around my head😫

Mclaren: LANDO, we have a meeting tomorrow about you getting PR trained! Landonorris: oops hehehe 😁

[mclqren]

AMERICAN MONEY ★ LOGAN SARGEANT

PAIRING ✦ logan sargeant x fem!reader

SUMMARY ✦ after a trip to the miami grand prix, and some meddling from your sister and her boyfriend, you manage to capture the attention of a certain williams driver [ SMAU ]

WARNINGS ✦ cursing

NOTES ✦ reader is british & lives in london. reader is also a uni student. the fc i've used is brooke flecca, but feel free to picture whoever you want! this fic is based off of the song American Money by BØRNS.

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liked by yoursister, oscarpiastri, and 7,441 others

yourusername flicks 📸

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user1 STUNNER

user2 such a beauty in all three oh my days

user3 PLEASE SEND ME THE LINK TO THE CAMERA!!

yourusername check your dms x

user4 WHAT A BABE.

yoursister photography credits?? 😔😔

yourusername yeah yeah whatevs

oscarpiastri and lighting credits?

yourusername shut up pastry no one cares 🗣️

user5 Y/N LOL

user6 wait why is oscar piastri in her likes...

user7 her sister has been dating him!!

user6 ahhh i see!!

user8 are you from tennessee?

yourusername ewwww rogue man in my comments GO AWAY🤺🤺

imessages ( y/n )

yourusername

( caption one: @/yoursister our comfort movie always 💗 | caption two: yup )

oscarpiastri

( can't be bothered to type out the caption sorry )

imessages ( logan )

liked by logansargeant, yoursister, and 10,211 others

tagged yoursister

yourusername WE ❤️ ICE CREAM (& miami beach)

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user10 GORGEOUS GIRLIES!!

user11 ice cream flavors 🎤

yourusername bubblegum 4 me & sherbert 4 y/s/n 😉

user12 THEY'RE BOTH GORGEOUS OH MY DAYSSS

user13 the sea looks so perfect omg

user14 they're in miami for the gp???

user15 y/s/n probably dragged y/n along with her 🤣

yourusername that's exactly what happened 😂

yourfriend AWOOGA

yourusername KISSES FROM ME AND Y/S/N 💋💋

yoursister we love miami 💘💘

liked by yourusername

logansargeant need a tour guide? 😁😁

yourusername if you're as annoying as oscar is then no thanks ❤️

logansargeant oscar pisses me off too

yourusername okay offer accepted! 😁

oscarpiastri WHAT.

yourusername YOU LITERALLY TRIED TO SELL ME??

imessages ( y/n )

yourusername

( caption one: he answered my prayers 🗣️ @/logansargeant | caption two: ladies get yourself a man who looks at you the way logan did after i said id buy him cupcakes as a thank you for taking me around miami 🥰 | caption three: lyrics of miami by will smith )

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tagged yoursister, logansargeant

yourusername miami, you've been a blasttt 🎆🎆

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user16 PURPLE IS YOUR COLOURRR!!

user17 color* BUT YES!!

user18 AMERICANS BOOO IT'S COLOUR

user19 COLOR* 🦅

yourusername GUYSS it's colour.

user16 EXACTLYY

user20 the mclaren flag 🤣

yourusername she's a loyal babe @/yoursister

user21 LOGANNN??

user22 okay someone needs to find out who this girl is and why logan has been in her likes and stories.

user23 tf is this cia agent bullshit leave them be 🤣

oscarpiastri i notice you aren't dripped out in mclaren merch, y/n?

yourusername im not associated with that sorry

landonorris just say you hate me

oscarpiastri no it's me she hates

yourusername guys guys guys. no need to fight. i hate both of you EQUALLY 😊

logansargeant had the best time with you!!

yourusername can't relate actually. only stuck around for the normal fanta 🍊

logansargeant oh?

yourusername JOKES 😁

yoursister 👀👀

user24 @/yoursister YOU'RE ALL OF US RN.

imessages ( y/n )

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tagged yoursister, oscarpiastri

yourusername when's he going back to his racing boooo

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user28 @/logansargeant brooo come be her other half!

user29 @/logansargeant SAVE HER NOWWW

user30 @/logansargeant chain!

user31 @/logansargeant

user32 @/logansargeant

user33 @/logansargeant

user34 @/logansargeant

user35 @/logansargeant

user36 okay but why is no one talking about how beautiful she is hellooo?? enough about a MAN let's talk about this WOMAN.

user37 RIGHTT??

yoursister y/n i think you broke the internet

yourusername whoops???

oscarpiastri 10k likes and i'll make logan call y/n 🥰

oscarpiastri I DIDN'T THINK IT'D ACTUALLY GET 10K LIKES WHAT??

user38 so when's logan calling y/n??

oscarpiastri coming soon 👊

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yourusername how come every time you come around 🗣️

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user42 MY LONDON LONDON BRIDGE WANNA GO DOWN

user43 absolutely iconic

user44 SHE'S IN THE UK??

yourusername baby i live here haha ❤️

user45 YOU'RE SO FERGALICIOUSSS

user46 it's giving absolutely everything it needed to give

user47 no logan???

user48 im sure y/n and logan will meet up again soon, they just have very busy lives, what with y/n just finishing her final year at uni & logan being a literal f1 driver

yoursister so did my invite get lost in the post or

yourusername idk, it wasn't me who was busy in austria with her boyfriend so!

oscarpiastri why am i always brought into these conversations

yourusername because i hate you

imessages ( y/n )

liked by yoursister, logansargeant, and 56,331 others

tagged logansargeant

yourusername a doggie, a logie and spaghetti 😝

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user51 SHE CALLED HIM LOGIEEE IM WEAK IN THE KNEES

user52 CUTIES FR

user53 THE DOG AWWW

user54 they match together so perfectly

user55 omg y/nlogan CONFIRMEDDD!!

user56 this post is everything to me and more

yoursister is this your definition of a soft launch

yourusername boo the internet already caught us basically making out at silverstone what's the difference

user57 Y/S/N HAHAHA

oscarpiastri i won't say i had a part in this buttt...

yourusername thanks for trying to sell me oscar.

oscarpiastri no problem!

lilymhe ANOTHER FEMALE IN THE WILLIAMS PADDOCK 🔥🔥

yourusername when you leave alex for me should i pretend to be shocked

lilymhe well, yes

logansargeant @/alex_albon oh dear

alex_albon this was always going to happen. we should've prepared in advance 😔

logansargeant ❤️❤️

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tagged yourusername

yourusername officially dating a uni graduate 🥳🥳 couldn't be prouder ❤️

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user58 felt her aura from ten scrolls away WOW

user59 RIGHT? she IS the moment

user60 slide 2 🥺

user61 petition for y/n and logan to become dog parents

yourusername @/logansargeant please please please

logansargeant i'll consider it

yourusername a win is a win 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️

user62 she's suchhh a babe omg

user63 they're too cute together

yoursister treat her good, sargeant.

logansargeant will do ma'am 🫡

yourusername logan she's younger than you?? and also im allowed to do this spiel with you, not the other way around?!

yoursister he's the new boyfriend now, not oscar 🤷‍♀️

yourusername LOGAN THAT SLIP OF ME EWWWW DELETE DELETE

logansargeant you look beautiful either way ❤️

oscarpiastri ewww ruining my feed delete these comments please

yourusername don't be fooled guys, im only dating him for that american money 🥳

logansargeant she's kidding.

yourusername being a uni student is expensive to be fair

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TAGS ✦ @theblueblub ; @littlegrapejuice ; @tribbisweetdear; @chaostudee ; @writingisbetterthandying ; @dannyleclerc

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Bad Blood

♥ masterlist | request rules | based on this request

♥ pairing: franco colapinto x fem!driver!reader

♥ synopsis: tensions started rising in the williams garage when bad strategies pitted you and your teammate, franco against each other. after spotting him in a bar the night of a race the two of you bonded over your shared bad result. 

♥ one-shot - wc: 1.6k

♥ as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing, drinking, and vaguely suggestive !!!

♥ a/n: rivals to lovers + forced proximity, go nuts babe. btw there’s some salty team vibes so i just wanna say i love williams (except james) this is purely for the plot lol

“Plan B, Y/n. Plan B,” you engineer said on the radio of your car.

”Is Franco undercutting me?” you asked, shifting down into a corner.

“We think this is the best decision point-wise.”

“You’re joking.”

“Y/n stick to the strategy, you’ll get your time eventually.” they responded.

“No this is bullshit. What advantage are you giving him? He can’t chase down Kmag any better than I can—at least he doesn’t have the pace right now. I don’t see why you’re making him the priority.”

You reached the end of the main straight watching as your teammate exited the pit lane in front of you.

He was on hard tires, an extremely odd choice for the end of this race. You were trying to complete the last 20 laps on softs while your teammate tried to make up positions on the opposite compound. Wait why the fuck would they put him on those tires? If they were aiming for an undercut, they were certainly going to fail with this strategy. 

You dove down into the apex and collided with Franco, who was turning in front of you. You both spun out into the gravel, ending your race. 

It was always like this. Somehow you always found yourself competing against Franco no matter where you went. 

“Fuck,” you yelled on the radio as you threw your HANS device outside of the car. 

“Are you okay?” your engineer questioned.

“Yup, yeah I’m fine.” you responded. 

The Williams team could hear faint breathing from Franco. 

“Is she ok?” he asked. 

“Yes, are you?”

“Yeah, I am.”

-

You scrolled through your phone in your driver's room, coming across a couple of posts about the situation.

@fcswife “is she okay?” FRANCO THE MAN THAT YOU ARE 😭❤️

@charlesgf16 she really has zero respect for franco huh?

@francodefender1 how could anyone hate him? 😩

You rolled your eyes and clicked off the device, throwing it onto a different cushion on the couch. You were going to need a drink. 

-

Later that night you retreated to a bar you were unfamiliar with. A couple of F2 drivers in your circle mentioned it in passing and considering you couldn't fluently speak the language of the country you were visiting, you hoped to run into a few people you knew.

The room was dark, loud, and packed. You could hear music playing over the sound of dozens of drunk voices. You pushed your way through the crowd of people towards the front of the bar in order to get a drink.

You spotted a familiar face when you arrived. To your dismay it was the only person you wished not to talk to at that moment. His brown curls were immediately identifiable and if that wasn't enough, the fluorescent lighting illuminated his face, drawing your eyes towards the small mole on his cheek.

You looked around for a place to avoid him, but all the booths were taken and the only open bar stool was the one next to Franco.

Because of course it was.

You sighed and took the seat next to him, trying your hardest to avoid eye contact.

"A bottle of Dom Perignon please," you asked, causing Franco to snort.

“What?” you shifted your gaze towards him.

“Champagne is for winners,” he said, looking you straight in the eye.

It wasn’t like he was incorrect. Champagne was for the podium—but you had a long day and it was time to treat yourself. Regardless, you rolled your eyes at the man’s comment.

Franco waved over the bartender to get a glass and help himself to the bottle of alcohol.

“You can venmo me,” you said only half joking as he poured himself some champagne.

A small tv in the corner of the bar had a replay of the race and press.

”There were a lot of emotions definitely, uhm I think the decisions tire wise for the strategy weren’t great. It’s frustrating to see the prioritization of your teammate but I guess I have no input on whether that goes to me or Franco each race. We had a rough week overall as a team but I hope we can bounce back.”

“As much as I hate to agree with you… you were right. Both our strategies were fucked.” he said referencing your post race interview, “They screwed us both.”

The two of you never really got along, but at least neither blamed each other for the crash. It was just a racing incident and it didn’t have to prevent you from finally having a civil conversation with Franco.

“To screwing us both,” you smiled while raising your glass of champagne, eliciting a chuckle out of him.  

He clinked his cup to yours with a smirk and took a small sip. 

From that point on your distaste for him slowly started to die down and you began to have a mutual understanding.

-

The next race went over far smoother than the last. Franco ended up in P5 with you right behind him in P6; an incredible result for the two of you and the team.

You jumped out of your car and strolled your way over to his. The camera picked up on you patting his helmet and mumbling something.

Of course this was going to be all your media feed would show for the next few days.

-

That night you found yourself at a far more tame pub than the last.

“From the gentleman across the bar,” a server said, causing you to look up from your phone and towards the direction he was pointing. 

Franco was leaning against the counter with a grin. He raised his eyebrows quickly and waved.

You took a sip of the cold blue drink in front of you and waved back. His eyes stayed locked on you as you pulled out your phone and unblocked a number.

You 

is there red bull in this? 

+1800******

yea 

You got a text back immediately, prompting you to change the contact name. 

You

i think that’s a sin

Franco

oh?

You

yea if i can’t drive it i shouldn’t be drinking it  

Franco

i guess it’s too bad williams doesn’t make energy drinks

You

come sit with me

-

Tensions were still high on track between the two of you but the minute race weekend was over it was like someone flipped a switch.

A few weeks flew by and people started to notice your behavior towards Franco. By now there were probably dozens of pictures of you looking very cozy together at parties, but not getting along at the circuits or simply ignoring each other in the paddock.

Of course people were getting suspicious. Maybe this was a ruse to keep your relationship a secret? Maybe it was all staged for Netflix. Or maybe—you two didn’t really know what you were.

-

“Che,” a voice called out to you in spanish, instantly grabbing your attention.

You spotted Franco in a booth at the back of the club. It was far darker in that corner, but with the flashing lights and loud music you were glad he picked a more secluded area.

The building was full with the familiar faces of drivers and team members.

”Look at you,” he said, impressed.

You laughed and did a small spin, showing off your dress. You knew he’d liked it and by the memory you had earlier this evening, it seemed as though a lot of people would.

”Another date with Franco, huh?” Kika smirked while putting on some dangly earrings. “It’s not a date,” you protested. She spun her body around to face you. “This,” she gestured to your outfit. “Is for a date.”

You slid into the booth next to him, setting your black clutch purse beside you.

Franco’s hand firmly grabbed your thigh to steady himself as he shifted closer towards you. Your eyes darted down to the action but he didn’t seem to notice. His grip loosened as he settled and he started rubbing small circles with the pad of his thumb.

A small hum escaped your lips, barely audible over the music and voices, but there was no way in hell your soft noises wouldn’t catch his attention.

”¿Esto está bien?” (is this ok?) he asked in a whisper, causing you to only nod.

His face moved closer to yours, and you wasted no time cupping his cheeks in your hands, and connecting your lips.

You melted into the kiss knowing damn well you daydreamed about this an embarrassing amount.

His tongue swiped over your bottom lip, tasting the gloss you applied earlier. You opened your mouth to allow him entrance and he dragged his fingertips further up the inside of your thigh.

Franco moved down to your neck leaving soft, open-mouthed kisses. His index and middle fingers brushed the lace of your lingerie, causing him to smirk against you.

“Stand up,” he demanded. He slipped out of the booth and pulled you onto your feet. You grabbed your clutch as he guided you through the crowd, hand-in-hand.

He opened the chiming door and the two of you stepped onto the wet cobblestone. Your heels clicked on the ground as he guided you to his car in the rain.

He pulled open the passenger seat door for you.

“Wow, we weren’t even in there a couple of minutes,” you stated.

“I think we’ve had enough time to talk… quiero llevarte a casa…” (i want to take you home) he leaned down and mumbled to you.

“O en este caso mi hotel,” (or in this case my hotel) “unless you’d rather go back inside..” he trailed off.

You shook your head in protest to his last works and a light chuckle slipped through his lips.

”Alright then,” he smirked, getting into the drivers seat.

[amirasainz]

Can you write a Yn Alonso story where George and her have a proper British tea party. Geroge tells Yn that she is now a true princess. .ame it fluff and cute 🙏😭❤️

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 💕

Unky Georgie

Three-year-old Yn Alonso, the tiniest bundle of joy in the paddock, bounced on her toes as she held onto her uncle George’s hand. Her rose-colored dress swayed with every step, layers of tulle billowing around her like the gown of a true princess. She gazed up at George, her eyes wide and filled with excitement. Uncle George, or “Unky Georgie,” as she liked to call him, had promised her something very special that day while her dad, was away at a meeting. Today, Yn was going to have her very first Princess Tea Party.

George knelt down to her level, smoothing out her dress a bit. "Alright, Princess Yn," he said in a very serious tone, his British accent making her giggle, "are you ready for your royal tea party?"

Yn gasped, nodding her head enthusiastically. "Yes, Unky Georgie! I'm ready!" She clutched a tiny pink purse to her side, her other hand wrapped around his fingers.

"Right this way, Your Royal Highness," George said, guiding her to a little setup he’d created just for her near the back of the paddock. He had found a small table with two chairs and had decorated it with a pink cloth, a little flower in a vase, and a selection of pastries piled high on a plate. In the middle, he’d set a small teapot with a delicate floral design and two matching cups.

Yn’s eyes sparkled as she took in the scene. "It’s so pretty!" she gasped, looking up at George with a mixture of admiration and disbelief. "Is this… is this really for me, Unky Georgie?"

George nodded, his face lit with a proud smile. "All for you, Princess. Only the best for royalty, of course."

He held out her chair, and she carefully climbed onto it, smoothing out her dress like she’d seen princesses do in her favorite storybooks. Once she was settled, George took the seat opposite her. He poured “berry tea”—actually a bit of berry-flavored water he’d prepared—into each cup, trying his best to look as dignified as possible.

Yn picked up her cup carefully with both hands, peeking over the rim to look at George. "Do I look like a real princess, Unky Georgie?"

George smiled warmly, nodding. "You look like the most real princess I’ve ever seen." He raised his cup as if to toast. "To Princess Yn, ruler of the paddock kingdom!"

She giggled, clinking her tiny cup against his. "To the paddock kingdom!" she repeated, trying to sound very grand. Then she took a sip, her face lighting up at the taste of the berry water.

George took a pretend sip as well, lifting his pinky finger dramatically. "Now, tell me, Princess Yn, what does a real princess do at a tea party?"

Yn thought for a moment, scrunching up her nose. "Princesses talk about their… about their kingdom!" she decided. "And about the animals and… and the fairies and… and the horses!"

"Ah, yes," George said, nodding along. "Do you have many fairies in your kingdom, Princess?"

Yn nodded, her face very serious. "Lots! And they’re all pink and blue and sparkly, and they love tea parties. And they sing songs to the horses so they can go super fast!"

George chuckled, absolutely charmed by her imagination. "Just like your papa and his car! Maybe the fairies help him go super fast too?"

Yn’s eyes lit up. "Yes! Papa has fairies too. And… and maybe you have fairies, Unky Georgie!"

George gasped in mock surprise. "You think so? Maybe that's why I’m so fast!"

Yn giggled and reached for a tiny pastry from the plate. It was almost too big for her little hands, but she managed, taking a small bite and grinning at the taste. "Mmm, this is my favorite," she declared with her mouth full, looking at George as if they were in on a big secret.

"I'm glad, Princess. We have to keep the royal princess well-fed, after all." George pretended to munch on one of the pastries, savoring it dramatically. "These are delicious! Fit for a queen."

Yn looked delighted, holding her little pastry like it was made of gold. She glanced around as if worried someone might interrupt their special party. "Do you think Papa will come soon?"

George took her little hand in his, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Don’t worry, Princess Yn. He'll be here soon. And when he sees you looking so beautiful in your princess dress, I bet he’ll be so happy he might even want to join the tea party."

Yn’s eyes widened at the thought. "You think so? Papa will be a prince with us?"

"Absolutely," George replied confidently. "And you know what? He might even want to be your knight, protecting the kingdom."

Yn looked at him with all the wonder of a little girl who thought her papa was already the greatest knight in the world. "Papa would be the best knight!"

Just then, a familiar voice called from nearby. "What's going on here?" Fernando had returned from his meeting, and the sight before him nearly stopped him in his tracks. There was his daughter, perched like a little princess in her rose-colored dress, holding court over a tea party with her “Unky Georgie.”

Fernando’s heart melted instantly. He walked over, a soft smile spreading across his face as he took in the joy radiating from Yn’s face.

"Papá!" Yn squealed, jumping up and running to him, her arms open wide. Fernando scooped her up into a big hug, her tiny fingers clutching his neck. "Look, Papá! I’m a real princess now!" she declared, pulling back to show him her dress.

Fernando looked at George with a soft chuckle, his eyes full of gratitude. "A real princess, huh?" he asked, looking back at Yn with admiration. "Did Uncle Georgie make you a princess today?"

Yn nodded with pride. "Yes! And we had tea and pastries, and he said I have a kingdom with fairies!"

"That sounds wonderful, mi amor," Fernando murmured, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I’m so happy you had fun."

George stood up, giving Fernando a mock bow. "Well, I was merely following orders from Her Royal Highness."

Fernando laughed, shaking his head. "Thank you, George. This was… perfect." He looked back at Yn, his face full of love. "You know, Princess, if you need a knight, your papa is always ready for the job."

Yn’s face lit up, and she reached for Fernando’s hand. "Can we all have tea together? All of us, Papá?"

"Of course," Fernando said with a smile, taking a seat beside her and picking up one of the tiny tea cups. "For my princess, I’ll do anything."

George grinned, raising his cup again. "To Princess Yn, ruler of all the fairies and horses in the paddock kingdom."

Yn raised her cup with a giggle. "And to Papá, my best knight ever!"

As they sipped their “tea” together, Yn looked up at her father and uncle, feeling like the happiest princess in the world. And for Fernando, seeing his little girl so full of joy made him feel like the luckiest dad in the world.

[herdarkestnightelegance]

Bedhead

Pairing: Astarion/ g/n unnamed You

Tags: the fluffiest of fluff

Length: 1k words

Summary: You woke up in Astarion‘s tent for the first time.

A/N: I'm really starting to enjoy this whole Fanfiction writing thing! Thank you all for all the love on my last fanfic Magpie Stash 🥹 👉👈

Once again I have to thank @nyx-knox for the thoughtful beta-reading, helping me to smooth out the bumps in the story ✨

Shout out to @onlyancunin. You know why ❤️

::::::::::::::::::

A single strip of sunlight falls directly onto your face, waking you gently. You don’t stir but slowly, you open your eyes. For a moment you’re disoriented. This isn’t your tent, is it? Slowly you look around. No, it’s not. And then you remember. It’s Astarion’s. And now that your senses catch up you feel him next to you, his arm laid sleepily across your stomach. You blink almost in disbelief at the feeling of him still beside you.

This is new. Yes, the two of you have spent many hours together, sneaking away for moments of passion both here and in your tent, out in nature, in a couple of caves and a temple even. But usually you went your separate ways afterwards. Occasionally, you had fallen asleep next to each other but you usually woke to find him gone or already awake and half-dressed, like that first morning after the Tiefling Party. Never had you woken up to feel him still slumbering beside you before. In his tent no less.

But then you remember. Arms pulling you closer as you were about to disentangle from him, a kiss on the delicate skin below your ear and a single whispered word. “Stay?” 

So you stayed.

You turn your head to look at Astarion. But to say what you see is not what you expected would be an understatement. 

Unable to stop it, the corners of your lips curl up in an adoring grin. Often have you seen Astarion meditate on this journey. Usually lying on his back, his head resting on a pillow, hair immaculate, the ruffles on his shirt laid out perfectly, face relaxed and his fingers doing that dainty fingertips-touching-thing you’ve come to adore.

But this was not that.

Beneath a mess of tangled sheets, Astarion is lying on his stomach, one leg stretched away from him and the other at a weird but apparently comfortable angle. One arm draped over you, the other one tucked under his head, barely resting on the edge of his pillow, which has somehow wrapped itself halfway around his head. He looks completely disheveled and … utterly adorable.

It’s the light chuckle you can’t suppress that seems to wake your lover. He opens his eyes groggily, their crimson color practically glowing in the strip of morning light that had also awoken you.

In the few moments before he fully wakes from his rather unusual meditation, you see it clearly on his face: a flicker of a pleasant surprise to find you still beside him. Followed by confusion. Then a moment of vulnerability. And finally you see his trademark cocky smile slipping onto his face.

 “You’re up early, darling.“ he says in a casual yet sleepy tone. “I thought I’d all but worn you out last night.”

“Good morning to you too.“ you answer back, the smirk lingering on your face. Slowly, he pulls his arm off you and turns onto his back. His slender body stretches deliciously, and you roll onto your side to face him, unable to take your eyes off all of his beautifully exposed pale skin. When he eventually sits up, you can’t help but let out a giggle.

“What?”, he asks, looking down at you.

“I’m sorry - it’s just …” You reach out your hand towards that mop of stunning white curls that look like an exploded feather-pillow, but you pause, waiting the slightest of moments before actually touching him. You realize you’ve never really… touched his hair. Sure, you had weaved your fingers into it, tugged at it in moments of passion, but … fixing these beautiful curls seems almost too … familiar? You can’t help but worry it’ll bother him. “May I?” you ask cautiously.  

Astarion leans his head towards your hand ever-so-slightly, signalling you permission to touch his hair. “I’ve just never seen you like this, that’s all.” His curls are incredibly soft, even in their disheveled state. Has anyone ever seen him like this, you wonder.

“Like what?” he asks in a relaxed tone but you detect the slightest hint of insecurity. Inspecting his beautiful face for a moment longer, you notice the red skin and creases the pillow has left around his cheekbone and the drop of dried blood in the left corner of his mouth from when he drank from you.

“… Tousled,” you finally answer, still unsure if the word captures how endearing he looks to you in this state.

He huffs a laugh. “Well, my dear, you too are looking rather unkempt.” he says as he plucks a tiny, honest-to-god pillow-feather from the tangled mess on your own head. The two of you look at each other - all messy hair, dried blood, squished faces and sticky skin. 

You wonder what the pale Elf is thinking, what he is searching for while he is studying your eyes so intently. Because all you feel in this moment is fondness. Fondness for him, for waking up together … for whatever it is that exists between the two of you. And you think he maybe feels  it, too. Because, to your delight, a smile spreads on his indented face, his fangs momentarily glinting in the morning light before the both of you let out a laugh. He is so beautiful to you in that moment. And your heart swells in a way it has not done before, to the point of aching within the confines of your chest.

It’s Astarion who leans in first to kiss you then, running his fingers over the bird’s nest that is your hair. “I do think you look quite delicious like this, you know?” he whispers against your lips before pushing you down, pinning you back onto the bedroll as his weight comfortably settles onto you. You feel him smile into your kiss and you know it’s sincere. “So let’s see if we can mess up this hair of yours a bit more, shall we?”

[novvabee]

could you do one where there’s a girl who is really good, like REALLY good at divination and stuff, and meets the mauraders

hi love! this is so cute, it is a tad bit different from your ask but, here it is ❤️ i hope it fits your vision

She's Divine

Summary: poly!marauders x divination loving reader cw: swearing like once, predetermined poly relationship word count: 1.8k

“Y/N!” you heard Sirius sing throughout the common room. You were cozied up in one of the corners with a book you’ve been dying to read on the works and uses of prophecies. You finally had a moment of time, and now it was being interrupted, great.

“Yes Sirius,” you sighed, closing your book and looking up at him from where he stood. He smiled down at you and you knew you were going to be pulled into whatever scheme he was planning.

He batted his eyes down at you, smiling sweetly as he asked “Would you do me a small, well, bigger than small favor?”

“What kind of favor?” you asked, narrowing your eyes in suspicion. 

“Well, remember that assignment that was due last week? The one for divination?” he recalled.

“Yes?” you say, becoming annoyed.

“Well…” He trailed off.

“You didn’t do it?” you guessed, it would be just like Sirius to ask you to do his homework, even a week later.

He cocked his head and smiled. “How did you know? You must be psychic or something.”

You rolled your eyes in answer. Of course you didn’t want to help him with this. It was on a topic you learned last week, palmistry, and you had already moved on to dream interpretations. 

“Oh come on,” he grovelled, “you know I’m shit at divination, and you’re the top of the class. Just think about it as if you’re tutoring me.”

You rolled your eyes yet again, your book will just have to wait until later. “Fine,” you said, “sit.”

He sat in the armchair next to yours, throwing off his bag full of textbooks. He looked at you intently, on his best behavior as not to piss you off and tell him to do the assignment himself.

“Ok,” you started, “give me your hand.”

He obeyed your command and gave you his right hand. You took it in both of yours, pulling him closer to get a better view. You twisted it around to get the perfect lighting and make sure you didn’t miss any marks.

“Ok well, these little marks are ‘witch marks’ indicating that magic runs through your bloodlines but… that’s obvious, almost everyone in this school has them. However, you have quite a lot of them, meaning you come from a long line of magic.”

He nodded along seeming interested in what you had to say.

“Then this one here,” you said pointing to a deep line slashing through the bottom of his hand, “this one is the lifeline, it is pretty average, meaning you will live to a normal age but, it’s split. This probably means that your life will change in a drastic way.” you explained.

Sirius was listening, but he wasn’t listening. He was just staring at you, smiling. His hands were warm, soft. You were beginning to feel his stare.

“Do you want me to keep going?” you asked, not knowing if he was really listening to what you were saying, not taking any of it in. He was definitely not going to do well on this project.

“Yes please!” He said, dreamily. “I could listen to you talk all day.”

You giggled, squeezing his hand in between yours. “Is this just another way of flirting or do you really need help with this assignment?” you asked with a grin.

“Why can’t it be both?” he replied.

You shook your head but continued on reading his palm. “This one is the heart line. It stops right before your middle finger, which means you have difficulty expressing your emotions to those you love. It feathers out quite a bit, I think this may mean you’ll have many lovers in your life.” you said jokingly. This was obvious to you of course, Sirius shared his love three ways already between you, James and Remus.

“Lucky me,” he muttered, smirking over at you and winking.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

“Hello sunshine.” you heard from beside you. Your attention snapped up to James making his way up to where you were sat under a shady oak tree in the gardens of the castle. It was a lovely day and you decided to take full advantage of the rare sunny weather. You were still on the book about the works and uses of prophecies, not finding the time to finish it.

“Hello James,” you said, smiling up at the tall, bespeckled figure. “What can I help you with?”

“Nothing at all!,” he answered. “Actually, I saw something in Hogsmeade and thought you would like it.”

“A present?” you asked, pretending to be shocked. In reality, it was very much like James to grab something for you while out in the town. He did it fairly often, always bringing you back candies or trinkets.

He chuckled and said “Close your eyes.��

You listened to him, shutting your eyes and holding out your hands for him to set the present in. You felt something hard and cold placed in your cupped hands. You didn’t peek until you heard him say you could look.

You opened your eyes to see a small amethyst tower laying on its side. You gasped and looked up at James. “Thank you!” you exclaimed. “I need to put one under my pillow! I’ve been sleeping awful lately.” you explained.

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that,” he said, sitting down next to you under the tree, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He traced his fingers along your upper arm in a sweet and comforting way. “Bad dreams?”

“Sorta.” you answered, resting your head on his shoulder.

“Well, what are they about? Sometimes it’s good to talk about them and analyze them.” he explained.

You looked at him sideways “Yes James, I too take divination.” you answered him sarcastically.

“Exactly! You should know that better than anyone else!” he chuckled.

“Fine, fine,” you laughed. “They're mostly about interplanetary rivalries, you know, Venus and Jupiter. And all the placements growing closer to conjunction, causing all sorts of chaos and interesting events here on Earth. Do you know what I’m talking about?”

He blinked at you. “No idea. I know about half of the words you just said.”

You laughed and shoved him gently. “Well that was no help, Potter.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You were finally settling down, opening your book to the chapter you had left off on. You didn’t make it two seconds before you felt a presence beside you. You thought you would be safe in the library, you thought wrong.

You turned to see Remus setting up some parchment and his quill. He smiled at you and continued. You thought that maybe he would be engrossed in his work and maybe leave you to your reading. You were wrong.

“Hey Y/N, you have a moment?” he leaned over and whispered.

You shut your book yet again, looking over to him to continue.

“You read runes right?” he asked, still quiet as not to disturb the studying students around you both.

You nodded. “Yeah, I got an Outstanding in my OWLS.”

His face lit up as he said, “Great, well, I was wondering if you would be willing to tudor some students in my study group. There’s a few kids taking rune reading for the first time and they said they needed some help, so I wanted to ask the expert.” You suspected he was laying on the compliments to make you say yes to tutoring some younger years.

You laughed off his flattery, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “Well, I am no expert, not yet at least,” you said, “But I can help any way I can.”

He sighed in relief. “Thank you so much, Y/N. I really will owe you.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you agreed to help tutor for Remus, you didn’t expect two of the pupils to be both James and Sirius. They sat there, textbooks open and puzzled looks smeared across their faces. You didn’t mind terribly, they were your boyfriends after all, perhaps they would thank you with more presents and sweets. 

You figured Remus roped you into tutoring them because he did not have the patience for teaching both boys with the shortest attention span in probably the while school..

You helped them with a few assignments that they couldn’t quite grasp. Both boys struggled with rune reading, tarot card reading, and naval chart reading. You did your best to help walk them through it, but after about an hour, you could tell they were becoming frustrated with it all.

“But I’m a Scorpio,” Sirius said, “I was born in November.”

“I know that Sirius, but that is your sun sign.” you tried to explain. “There are many more signs. For example, your moon sign which is in Taurus.” 

“Ugh, this is stupid!” Sirius said, frustrated and tired.

“Honestly, divination is pretty much useless nowadays, it’s not even reliable, there is no proof it’s real.” James chimed in.

You were taken back by their comments. “Just because you two don’t automatically excel in it, doesn’t mean that it is stupid or useless.” you said, hurt that they felt that way about something you were very passionate about, something you loved and were good at, something you wanted to make into a career. You knew that a lot of people didn’t take divination seriously, that it was considered somewhat of an old wives tale. But you didn’t think that the boys, the people you thought cared about you the most, would think your passions were so miniscule and not as important as their own. 

“W-we didn’t mean it like that,” James said, starting to back peddle. “We just mean, we’re not good at it so…”

“So you think it’s stupid?” you ask.

“No!” James says, becoming pink in the face, not enjoying the outcome of this conversation at all.

“Don't listen to them,” you heard Remus say, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his side, seeing that you were hurt and wanting to comfort you a little. “They’re just upset that they have to finally work hard at a form of magic.”

It’s true, James and Sirius both were incredible wizards, it came easy to them. You often thought that they were just made of magic, that they didn’t ever have to try in any of their classes. 

“I might not be able to transfigure a barrel into a slipper on my first try, but you definitely couldn’t explain the difference between quartz and tigers eye and their respective uses.” you say to them.

“That’s why we want your help, Y/N. You know this doesn’t come easy to us. And to you, you're just so in tune with it, it’s like you have this rare, secret talent for it.” Sirius says. You’re still offended, but the compliments were helping.

“We don’t know how you do it, honestly.” Added James.

“Fine… I’ll still help you,” you said, they smiled apologetically at you. “But you have to do all my history of magic papers for the rest of the month.”

Sirius groaned but agreed, saying that it wouldn’t be too hard, just take a lot of time.

“Ok fine, but you have to teach us ovomancy and capnomancy too.” James bargained.

“Deal,” you said happily, excited to share your knowledge with the boys.

[aemondsbabe]

What is Owed

summary: the gold cloaks raid the brothel, you make a deal to secure your freedom

pairing: harwin strong x lyseni!reader x daemon targaryen

warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, reader is briefly described as having lyseni features (pale hair, purple eyes) but no other physical descriptors are used, mentions of sex work, reader is a sex worker, breast/nipple play, dirty talk, double penetration, piv sex, anal sex, anal fingering, regular fingering, squirting, unprotected sex, double creampie oh jeez, oral (m receiving), handjobs, hands on necks, "whore" is used both as a pet name and degradingly we love innovation, big hulking men idk, let me know if i missed anything!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so sorry for being away! wasn't intentional, just busy with life things! but god i missed writing and i'm so happy to finally have this one done! daddies galore!

likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!

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A barely concealed sigh of disgust leaves your lips, which remain pulled into a tight, docile smile as some lord, whose name you couldn’t be bothered to remember, finally finishes over your bare chest with a beastly grunt, his hips twitching as you stroke him through it. 

Took his sweet time, you think as you rise to your feet and quickly grab one of the spare cloths stashed in the nearby vanity to wipe his spend from your chest. Depositing the cloth in a nearby basket, you take a moment to right your dress and run your fingers through your pale hair. Finally, you turn back around and eye the man still lying across the ornate chaise catching his breath. 

You glance at his trousers, still haphazardly piled on the floor, before checking him once more, smirking when you see that his eyes are still closed. Carefully, you make your way over to his trousers and kneel once more as you grab for the heap of fabric; keeping your eyes on him, you swiftly rifle through the pockets and smile triumphantly as you pull a few coins from one – one golden dragon, three copper stars, and a half-penny. 

Grinning, you toss the man’s trousers back onto the floor before quickly grabbing the small coin purse you keep tucked away beneath the chaise, way back toward the wall and covered by the ends of one of the red satin curtains that cover the windows of the brothel – the perfect hiding spot until you can move them to the more secure lock-box beneath your bed. 

“Mmph,” the lord sighs, stirring finally just as you drop the last coin into your pouch. Shoving it back beneath the chaise, you quickly rise to your feet with a placid smile just as he finishes stretching. 

“Some wine for you, my lord,” you smile, keeping your voice light and sweet in just the way the Madam likes as you offer him a goblet, “To replenish your strength.”

“Yes, yes,” the older man mumbles, paying you no mind as he busies himself with the buttons on his tunic, “Fetch me my trousers,” he commands, brushing you off with a wave of his hand. 

“Of course, my lord,” you nod, teeth gritting as you set the goblet back down before grabbing his blasted trousers with an eye roll. He all but snatches them from you with a pompous little hum, not even looking in your direction. Once again behaving as the Madam demands, you merely stand by while he redresses, hands clasped demurely in front of you as you wait to be of service once again, or, hopefully, to kindly escort him to the door. 

You don’t mind working in the brothel, not really, especially knowing that it could be much worse – you could’ve ended up as one of the many beggars that line the streets of Flea Bottom or, more dreadful still, stuck as a slave back home. It was luck, really, that brought you to the brothel in the first place, back when you were still stumbling half-blind with grief around the fish market by the docks only to be plucked up by chance by a few of the girls from the brothel. They’d brought you back here, promising that the Madam would take you in, that you’d earn great money with your exotic looks. 

One of those things had been true – the Madam was very happy to take you in. Technically, you do also make great money… for the brothel; only a small percentage is ever paid back to the workers and, for your circumstances, that just won’t do. Which is precisely why you sometimes took a little tip for yourself, especially if your client for the evening was of higher status; it’s not as if they’d miss, or even notice, a few missing coins. 

As far as you’re concerned, it’s a flawless system. 

You’re brought out of your short reverie by another sigh from the lord as he polishes off the goblet of wine you’d offered some moments ago and once more, your lips quirk up into a pleasing smile, “Leaving so soon, my lord?”

“Mm,” he merely grumbles before flashing you a lecherous grin, his yellowed teeth making your stomach turn, “Worry not, girl, I’ll be back before the tournament’s over.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, grimacing internally as you make a half-step toward the arched doorway, “I’ll see you out.” Blessedly, the lord makes no more of a fuss and lets you lead him to the entryway, sparing you one final nod before slipping down the dimly lit street. 

You remain in the doorway for a moment more, arms crossed over your chest as you gaze outside, relishing the feel of the cool night air against your skin. After a moment, though, your eyes narrow when you realize the streets seem much quieter than usual. At this hour, there would normally be more people about – some returning from a long day of work, others already stumbling around drunk, but tonight there were only a few scattered people roaming about. 

“Strange…,” you murmur to yourself, absentmindedly running a finger over the gold chain around your neck, your fingers brushing over the small key hanging from it. Sparing a glance up at the Dragonpit looming on the nearby hill, you finally close the door with a shrug. Returning to the room you’d serviced the lord in, you glance around quickly to make sure the coast is clear before you retrieve the small coin purse from beneath the chaise, smiling at the weight of it as you carry it swiftly back to your bed, to your little lockbox, wholly unaware of the envious gaze on your back. 

“Commander on the floor!” One of the Gold Cloaks shouts as Daemon prowls into the hall, a self-righteous smirk on his lips as the drum of fists against chest plates ceases. 

“When I took command of the Watch, you were stray mongrels,” he growls, dark violet eyes surveying the men around him, “Starving and undisciplined!” 

He pauses for a second, heart pounding with the heady sensation of power as he prepares to do what his dear older brother cannot – punish. Too long have the streets of King’s Landing, of his city gone to the Seven Hells; controlled by crime and near-anarchy when they should be controlled by him, by the dread of his authority. 

“Now, you’re a pack of hounds,” his voice rises as he speaks, as he breathes life into his men, “You’re sated and honed for the hunt!”

Howls erupt around the hall, making the prince’s lips stretch into a vicious grin – his men were ready, ready to rule with the iron fist Viserys lacked. 

“My brother’s city has fallen into squalor!” He says, pacing down the room, “Crime of every breed has been allowed to thrive!”

His chainmail clinks with each of his heavy steps, pride swelling in his chest as many of the soldiers nod their heads along with him. It was true, after all, everyone knew it. Viserys may have the crown, the damned throne, but the dragonfire in his veins had run cold long ago. The blood in Daemon’s burns hot, however; centuries of power and glory fuel his fires, flowing through him like the lava in the Dragonmont. 

“No longer,” he grunts, pausing at the end of the hall, the silken cloth draped over his shoulders shining in the light of the torches lining the room as he turns to eye his men, smirking at the blood lust evident on their faces, “Beginning tonight, King’s Landing will learn to fear the color gold!”

A loud bang wakes you sometime later and you sit up with a small gasp, clutching the linen bed sheets. Whipping your head around, you can see the dark night sky still looms heavily over the city through the slats in the window – you must’ve not been asleep very long. 

Another cry from somewhere outside finally gets you moving and you quickly wrap yourself in an embroidered silk robe, tying it loosely around your waist as you move closer to the door, your ears perked at the sound of frantic whispers. Poking your head through the beaded curtain that separates the sleeping quarters from one of the hallways, you finally spot a familiar face in the dim candlelight. 

“Genna!” You whisper, waving one of the other working girls over, “What’s going on, what’s happened?”

“Gold Cloaks!” She hisses, working quickly to stuff an armful of dresses into a small bag, “They’ve gone mad, they’re rounding up damn near everyone out there!”

“Gone mad?” You echo, brows pinching together as you look toward the entrance, another muffled cry from outside catching your attention, along with the sounds of metal clanging against metal. 

Genna merely nods as she practically shoves past you to get into the room before quickly loading her bag with various perfumes, oils, and loose jewelry from one of the vanities, “One of the regulars came by, woke everyone up,” she explains as she quickly ties the bag off, “They’re taking in anyone who’s so much as nicked an apple from the market.”

Your eyes go wide at her words, head ringing as blood rushes to your cheeks. Thankfully, she seems too busy to notice you glance warily at your bed, knowing your lockbox with weeks worth of lifted coins is tucked neatly below it. 

“I’m telling you, if you’ve pocketed even one extra groat, you’re as good as dead,” She shakes her head as she slings her bag over one shoulder, “Get out while you can, yeah? I think they’re a ways away st–”

A deafening crash from the front of the building cuts her off, the both of you shrieking. Your heart pounds in your chest at the sound of men’s voices; yours and Genna’s heads swivel to face one another at the same time before you both glance at the large wardrobe in the corner of the room – big enough for someone to climb inside of. 

It seems you both have the same idea at the same time, each of you scrambling toward the cupboard. She’s a second behind you, though, her hefty bag slowing her by an instant and she yelps as you pull the wooden doors closed, pinching one of her fingers. You push yourself as far back in the cramped space as you can, trying to tuck yourself behind the hanging coats and dresses.

Finally, you stay as still as possible, chest heaving as your back presses into the wood behind you. You hear a muffled curse from Genna before she shrieks as heavy footsteps flood into the room. 

“Shut it, whore!” A guard yells and the sound of a harsh slap makes you cover your mouth with a hand. 

“Careful!” A different voice shouts as more heavy footsteps sound outside, “She’s a woman, not a shadowcat,” the new voice admonished, “Take her outside with the others, then go ahead and take the wagons to the dungeons below the Keep. No harm is to come to any of them, understood?”

“But the Commander sai–”

“I don’t give a shit what the Commander said,” the man all but growled, “I am your superior still, soldier, you take orders from me; I’ll worry about him. The night’s gotten out of hand as it is.”

“Yes, Captain,” the first man grumbles after a second. Heavy footsteps sound for an instant before Genna shrieks again, “I said shut it, whore!” The man’s voice is a bit muffled this time, further away. 

“Tell the Commander I’m searching in here!” The second voice calls out gruffly; silently, you curse. 

You hold yourself as still as possible as the muffled sounds of opening drawers and cabinets sound from outside the wardrobe, slowly but surely getting closer to you. Your heart leaps into your throat as the wardrobe doors are tugged open, yet you hold yourself still and squeeze your eyes closed, a naïve part of you hoping the soldier would just overlook you.

Of course that doesn’t happen. 

“I do see you, you know,” the gruff voice sighs, his eyes on you, “Come on, out,” he commands. 

Finally, you open your eyes and peek at him through gaps of fabric, warily taking in his appearance. Your eyes widen at his size, truly a mountain of a man, with curly dark hair and matching dark eyes, clad in metal plate armor with a familiar golden cloak around his shoulders. The look in his eyes is neutral, if not sympathetic, but you still don’t move, rooted to the spot. 

With another sigh, he shakes his head at you and beckons you forward with a wave of his hand, “Please make this easy.” 

When you still don’t move after a few more seconds, the man grumbles and reaches in, shoving past various articles of clothing until he grabs at your forearm and pulls you, stumbling, from the wardrobe. 

“Let me go!” You cry, struggling in his grasp like a fish on a line, “Let me go, damn you! I haven’t done anything!” You shriek loudly, uselessly kicking your feet as he holds you steady at arms length. 

“Easy!” The dark-haired man shouts over your screeches, “If you’ll just calm–”

“What’s this?” Another voice questions from the doorway, making both of you pause. Your eyes widen when you see the man, dressed in the same gold cloaked armor as the one holding you, though this one has purple eyes and pale white hair cascading over his shoulders, complete with a familiar face you’d seen before in the shadowy corners of the brothel, “Is that her?”

Her? You balk, glancing between the two men, They were looking for me?

The brunette stays silent for a moment, bushy brows furrowed together as he looks between you and the prince, brown eyes meeting two sets of purple, “She’s not… one of his, is she?” He asks quietly, only confusing you more. 

Prince Daemon merely chuckles and shakes his head as he traipses toward you with a smirk. “Ohh, no, definitely not,” he mutters, squeezing your cheeks in one large, gloved hand as he forces your face to lift up toward his, “No, my dearest brother would never dare betray his wife so.”

He tilts your head from side to side, studying your face carefully, before making you face him once again as the other guard keeps hold of your arm, “What’s your name, girl?”

You glance between the men, caged in between their large frames, before finally telling them, each syllable merely a whisper on your lips.

The prince repeats it with a smug smile, the sound of your name on his tongue makes your head spin. “Ah, see, just as I thought,” he smirks, a pleased twinkle in his violet eyes, “A Lyseni whore.”

The other man merely grunts, though you don’t miss the way his dark brown eyes flit over your form appreciatively. Daemon moseys around the room, eyes scanning over the row of matching twin beds lined against one wall. “Which is yours?”

“I… I don’t sleep in here, my pr–”

“Lying won’t do you any good, you know,” he smirks, “We’ve had eyes and ears all over the city for months, including here. So, I’ll ask again. Which bed?”

You hesitate, only for a moment, before nodding at the bed to the far right. Your mind reels as Daemon begins his search, Someone was spying in here? One of the other girls?

“Aha!” He says after only a moment and your heart sinks as he pulls your small wooden lockbox out from its hiding spot. He drops it down onto your bed with a gloating smirk and you glance up just in time to see one of the prince’s pale hands reaching for the key at your neck, easily tugging it off the chain as you gasp and jerk once more in the other man’s grasp. “That was a gift from my father!”

“Daemon, please,” the other man sighs tiredly, scrambling to hold you in place once more, “Was that truly necessary?”

“Don’t start with me, Strong,” the prince huffs, moving to unlock the box, “You’ve spoiled my night of fun enough as is.” A low whistle sounds from his lips as he flips open the lid, quickly shuffling through the various coins, small pieces of jewelry, and other trinkets you’ve managed to swipe. 

“Seems we got the right one after all,” the man holding your arm, the one apparently called Strong, murmurs, nodding toward you.

“Of course we got the right bloody one,” Daemon scoffs, violet eyes rolling in his head, “I only know of two Lyseni whores in this city and it certainly isn’t the other one.” 

“Mysaria!” You whisper lowly, eyes widening as puzzle pieces begin clicking together in your mind.

The prince merely laughs, looking between you and the other knight as if you’ve just told some hilarious joke. “Finally figured it out, eh?” He teases, sauntering over to where you’re still being held. 

As soon as he’s in reach, the guard holding you grabs your other arm as well, holding them both behind your back as if you’d be stupid enough to try anything against two Gold Cloaks. Even if you did manage to free yourself, what would be the point in running now? 

“Seems we have a clever whore on our hands, Strong,” Daemon drawls, grinning when you flinch as he grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to meet his once more, “And a pretty one too. You must earn enough to pay your keep, no? A little exotic flower like you is bound to get plucked at often enough.”

You wait for him to continue speaking but he doesn’t, he simply waits, eyes boring into you as if he’s trying to read your thoughts. For all you know, he can – you’ve heard whispers around King’s Landing of how the Targaryens were supposedly closer to Gods than men. 

“I suppose so, my prince,” you all but squeak a moment later, unable to bear the intense silence any longer. 

“Then tell me,” you gasp as he suddenly turns your head, directing your gaze toward the small wooden lockbox strewn open on your bed, “Why does a well paid whore need to steal? Hm?”

“I wasn’t stealing for me!” You blurt, chest heaving.

“Then why do it?” You startle slightly as the knight behind you speaks, his grip on your wrists loosening enough for you to relax some in his grasp. For someone so gruff and intimidating, there was a distinctive warmth to his voice – a soft, kind lilt. 

With a sigh, you glance between the two men before speaking, “I send it back to my family, once every other moon or so.”

“You send money to your family,” Daemon echos, purple eyes narrowed suspiciously, “In Lys, I presume?”

You simply nod, your eyes downcast as the men share a look over your head.

“Why do you need to send them money?” The Strong guard asks as he releases your arms, brown eyes watching you closely. 

“My father was a merchant,” you begin, nervously fiddling with the tie on your robe, “He would travel to Volantis a few times a year to buy the more exotic goods shipped in from cities further east, from the other side of Slaver’s Bay, to bring back to sell in Lys. He could get a better price for them at home, Westerosi ships rarely go any further than our ports and they were willing to pay more.” 

“And then, one time he left for Volantis and… never came back,” you continue, your voice only a raspy whisper as the back of your throat tightens, “We received word some months later that there had been a slave rebellion in the city and that my father had been killed in it. So, now I send money back so that my mother and siblings are able to pay for our house, because in Lys, if you can no longer afford your land you –”

“You risk becoming a slave yourself,” the brunette knight finishes, sighing sympathetically when you nod.

“How very touching,” the prince mutters, though you can see pity clouding his eyes as well. 

“Perhaps we should just let her go,” the Strong guard says after a moment, making you whip your head toward him in shock, “She isn’t a danger to anyone.”

“She may not be,” Daemon says, crossing his arms over his broad chest, “But a drunken, disgruntled lord who’s discovered his gold missing certainly is.”

The brown haired man hums thoughtfully at his reasoning and both of them eye you for a moment, silence falling over the room. 

Shifting your weight from foot to foot, you silently reason that you have two options – convince them to free you or wind up in a cell beneath the Red Keep. Being locked away simply isn’t an option, not for you, as that would mean being unable to send money to your family and although petty theft doesn’t carry the penalty of death, you know that if anything were to happen to them, you’d wish it did. 

Gathering your courage, you look between the two men, eyeing them up and down. “Perhaps,” you start, loosening the tie on your robe just enough to bare your cleavage just a bit more, “I could convince you that I’m worth much more as a free woman?” 

“Little minx,” the prince rasps, stepping toward you and grasping at your jaw once more, “Maybe you’ll prove useful after all,” he says cryptically. 

Before you have time to dwell on his words, he releases you and busies himself with quickly unbuckling his plate armor, letting the chest and torso pieces noisily clank on the floor as they fall against a pile of gold cloth. 

You gasp as Daemon grabs you by the hips and pulls you to him, pressing himself against you tightly as his rough hands roam over your soft curves. You can’t help but giggle as an appreciative grunt leaves his lips, violet eyes darkening as they meet yours. 

“Daemon,” the other guard starts with a sigh, hand resting on the pommel of his sword. 

“Come, ser Strong,” the prince growls, hastily turning you to face the brown eyed man. Your teeth dig into your bottom lip as you look him up and down, the corners of your lips quirking up into a small smile when you see the flush on his cheeks, “It would be rude to turn down what our little mouse is so generously offering, hm?” The feel of Daemon’s hands on your body makes your eyes flutter closed for just a second, only to snap back open when he roughly grabs at your breasts just as his teeth press against the column of your throat, eliciting a soft cry from you. 

“O-Oh!”

“See? Listen to that,” Daemon says, words muffled against your skin, “She likes it, don’t you?” 

You quickly nod your head yes, head clouded by the feel of the prince’s length as it presses against the small of your back, hard enough to be felt through the trousers they wear under their armor. He chuckles as he suddenly cups your center, the silky fabric of your robe pressing against your already aching flesh, and nips at your neck once more before releasing you. 

“Go,” he murmurs, giving you a gentle push toward the other knight, “Make the stubborn bore more comfortable.”

Biting your lip, you approach the man with a little grin. Standing before him, you move your hand to his shoulder, to the buckles of his plate armor. 

“Is this okay?” 

All he gives you is a curt nod, but it’s enough for you. With another reassuring smile, you pull at the leather buckles, unstrapping them one by one until he grabs at his chest plate and sets it on the floor, more gentle with it than Daemon had been. 

Pausing for a second, you cock your head to the side curiously. “I know him,” you say with a nearly bashful smile, nodding your head at the prince, “But what do I call you, Ser?”

“Harwin, my lady. Just Harwin.”

Still sensing hesitance from him, you decide to be bold and gently take one of his hands and place it on one of your breasts, peering up into his deep brown eyes all the while. Your lips turn up into a pleased smile at the low groan that rumbles from his chest and you marvel at how warm his touch is through your robe, though before you have time to linger on it further, Harwin surges forward and presses his lips against yours. 

You still for a second, not having expected such boldness from a man who had held so much back thus far. Getting your wits about you, you quickly respond in kind and move your lips with his, leaning into him a bit more as you grab at his shoulders. A pleased hum leaves your lips as his hands begin exploring you, seeming to grab and knead at any bits of you he can like he’s been starved for touch for years. 

He groans into the kiss once more when you nip at his bottom lip, prompting him to slip his tongue into your mouth, which earns a small whimper from you as one of your hands slips down from his shoulder to rest on his toned, muscular chest. 

The sudden feel of another presence at your back makes you jump slightly – you’d gotten so wrapped up in Harwin that you’d nearly forgotten that Daemon was still in the room, though the knowledge that he’d been watching the two of you sends an excited zing up your spine. 

“Oh!” You gasp as he begins nipping and biting at your neck once more, soothing the marks he leaves behind with his tongue. Your lips move against Harwin’s as another pair of hands begins exploring you, impatiently tugging at the tie around your waist until your robe falls open. A whine leaves you as the knight’s hands immediately cup your bare breasts, kneading them and savoring the way your soft skin feels against his palms. At the same time, Daemon nearly growls as he presses himself against your ass, grinding his length against you as his hands grip at your hips and waist. 

“I believe you said something about convincing us?” He mutters against your neck, grinning when you pull away from Harwin and meet his gaze as you turn to look over your shoulder, brow raising when you see he’d taken the time to strip off his tunic at some point. 

“Quite right, my prince,” you grin, looking between the two men once more before slipping off your robe, leaving you bare as it pools on the floor. Your cheeks flush at their appreciative groans, skin prickling at the way you can practically feel their eyes on you. 

With another little breath, you lower yourself to your knees between them and immediately skim your hands over their strong thighs. Ever eager, Daemon quickly unties his trousers, a predatory gleam in his purple eyes as he frees his hardening length. 

You bite your bottom lip at the sight of it and quickly reach up to wrap a hand around it, marveling at the way it hardens steadily under your touch. “I think you’ll find I can be very persuasive,” you murmur, softly licking over the tip before sealing your lips around it and suckling gently while you gaze up at him, batting your lashes enticingly. 

“Fuck,” he breathes, long fingers threading into your hair as his head tips back. You grin around him, bobbing your head while you stroke over the rest of his length with a hand, laving your tongue over the head. 

Not forgetting about Harwin, you shift your gaze to him as your other hand palms his length where it presses against the rough fabric of his trousers, already hard and wanting. That seems to be the final straw for him and he scrambles to undo the ties, brown eyes glued to where your lips are wrapped around the prince’s hard cock. 

Your eyes widen when his length finally springs free and you let Daemon slip from your lips as your mouth falls open. “Seven Hells,” you murmur, watching as Harwin strokes a hand over his cock, a proud smirk on his lips. 

“Well now, that must be where your damn stubborn attitude comes from, Strong,” the prince teases, chest heaving as you continue stroking a hand over his length. 

Unable to resist, you brush the knight’s hand away before grasping his cock in your own, heart skipping a beat as your fingers hardly touch around the girth of it. You lean over and lick up the length of him, from the base to the very tip, before taking him into your mouth, bobbing your head in the same way you did with Daemon. 

It takes a few moments, but eventually you settle into a good rhythm – stroking one man’s member with your hand while you suck and lick at the others, swapping every few moments or when one of them gets impatient enough to tug you over by the hair. 

It’s easy to lose yourself in the cacophonous sounds of grunts and growls above you, at the way each man’s fingers thread into your hair differently. Daemon’s grip is much rougher, more commanding, as he drags you exactly where he wants, pushing and pulling your head along his cock in an exacting rhythm. 

Harwin, on the other hand, is more gentle — his tugs seeming more like suggestions than commands. Unlike the prince, he strokes over your hair gently as you attend to him, letting you set your own pace. Anytime your eyes meet his, he looks at you with awe almost, hairy chest heaving as his hips twitch, holding himself back from fucking your face in the way he wants. 

Daemon has no such qualms, hasn’t the patience to resist tugging at your hair as he presses your mouth lower and lower down his cock, relishing the way you choke and sputter. His violet, half-lidded gaze sends shivers through you each time your eyes meet, the look in his eyes echoing the fierce dragon’s blood flowing in his veins. 

Surprisingly, it’s Harwin that breaks first, tossing back his head with a low groan after some minutes and pulling you off of his cock. 

“What—?” You scarcely get the word out before his lips are on yours once again, tongue licking into your mouth. 

“Need you,” he mumbles simply, glaring as Daemon snickers behind your back. “Please,” he breathes, voice softer this time. 

“You needn’t ask,” Daemon drawls, pressing himself against your side as his hands paw at your breasts, pinching and pulling at your nipples and chuckling at the way you whine, “She’s a whore.” 

You roll your eyes playfully at the remark and grab Harwin’s hand, leading him toward one of the bigger rooms of the brothel. “That may be true, but perhaps I like a man with some decorum, my prince,” you call over your shoulder, chuckling as Daemon follows hot on your heels. 

You lead the men to one of the fancier rooms, one laden with imported ornate rugs and silken lamps that give it a warm red glow, complete with a giant circular daybed with plenty of room for all three of you. After all, if the brothel is empty, why not take advantage of it?

Putting on your very best show, you push at Harwin’s hairy chest until he sits back on the edge of the bed before walking over to him with a sly smirk, hips swaying enticingly. A chuckle leaves your lips when his eyes widen as you climb on his lap, your thighs bracketing his. 

“Is this ok –” His lips are on yours before you can finish the question; the both of you move a bit more desperately now, though his touches are no less attentive as his hands skim over your waist and up your back. 

Suddenly, you’re tugged away from Harwin’s lips with a little gasp as one of Daemon’s hands laces through the hair at the crown of your head, drawing you back until your spine is arched. 

“Forgetting someone?” He teases, lightly wrapping his other hand around your neck in a way that sends pleasant tingles down to your already aching center. You shake your head no, teeth biting into your bottom lip as Harwin’s cock twitches between your legs.

“Never, my prince,” you murmur, smiling into the kiss as Daemon presses his lips against yours. His movements are more urgent than Harwin’s and it soon dissolves into a battle of teeth and tongues; you mewl into his mouth when the hand around your neck slides down your chest and palms eagerly at one of your breasts. 

Though they’re closed, your eyes roll back as Harwin leans forward and begins mouthing at the side of your neck, his wavy hair tickling your shoulder. Soon enough, both men are pawing greedily at your chest, making your head spin – both of their touches are so different: where Daemon is rough, pinching at your nipple until you gasp and whine into his kiss, Harwin is gentle and uses his thumb to tease at the other until he feels you shivering on his lap. 

The knight surprises you once more when his touch skirts down over your stomach before his fingers run through your folds, making you jerk from Daemon’s grasp with a moan. Your cheeks flush slightly at the sight of the little victorious grin on Harwin’s face as he expertly circles your pearl, watching closely at the way his touch makes you squirm and grind down against his hard length. 

“That’s it,” he husks, grunting as your grasp tightens on his shoulders, nails digging into his lightly tanned skin, “Need to warm you up, don’t I?”

Beside you, Daemon scoffs as he stands straight once more, fingers still threaded through your hair. “Please,” he huffs, sliding closer to where you sit on the knight’s lap, until his length is practically brushing against your cheek, “Whores don’t need warming, Strong. You may as well take her.”

Before you have time to so much as register the jab, Harwin slips a thick finger inside you in the same instance that Daemon manhandles his cock into your waiting mouth, muffling your whimpers. Both men growl as they take you, the knight’s finger fucking easily into your wet channel as the prince’s length slides against your tongue once more. 

You can hardly do more than ragdoll in their grasp, mewling while Harwin fingers you open, adding a second digit after a moment and crooking them in a way that makes your hips rut eagerly into his touch while Daemon takes from you as he pleases, fucking into your throat with loud growls and grunts. 

Below you, Harwin groans as he easily presses a third finger into your heat, watching you carefully as he does and smirking when you show no signs of discomfort. “Think you’re ready for me,” he murmurs, chuckling when you nod your head as best as you can. As desperate as you are to be filled properly, you can’t help but let out a little petulant whine as he pulls his fingers from you. 

“Patience,” he grunts, shifting you on his lap enough to reach between your bodies and fist his length, grinning at the way you squirm eagerly as he runs the head through your slick folds. His chest reverberates under your palms when he growls as he finally grabs at your hips and pulls you down steadily over his thick cock, half-lidded eyes staring down at where you both connect, “Fuck, there you go.”

You pull away from Daemon with a loud gasp, sucking in a lungful of air, chest heaving as your walls pulse around the knight, savoring the way his stretches you open. “Gods!” You cry, wriggling in his hold as you grind against him, your hips moving of their own accord. 

Daemon huffs, annoyed, and tries dragging you back onto his cock a few times to no avail, quickly becoming irritated at the way you mindlessly clench your jaw closed each time Harwin’s cock presses against the sensitive spot within you. 

“Poor little whore,” the prince sighs exasperatedly, once again tugging your head back until your eyes meet his, “Too distracted, hm?”

You open your lips to reply, only to gasp dazedly as Harwin thrusts up into you from below, muscular thighs flexing under your own. “Give her a moment,” he grunts, gripping your hips to guide you over his length.

The prince merely tsks, pulling at your hair again until your eyes pop open; a shiver goes through you at the smirk that graces his lips, as if he knows something you don’t. “Tell me,” he starts, carding his long fingers through your hair, “Have you ever taken two cocks at once?”

“N – fuck!” You gasp, eyes rolling back briefly as Harwin ruts up into you quickly, evidently excited by the idea, “N-No.” 

“Hmm,” Daemon hums, smirk only widening, “Then I know just the way to get your attention.”

He moves away from you quickly, letting your head flop back uselessly as he walks swiftly to a small cabinet in the corner of the room where the Madam keeps a small stock of massage oils and lotions. You straighten just in time to watch as he stalks back over to you and Harwin, a vial of oil in hand. “I trust you have at least some experience with this, yes?” He questions, letting out a pleased hum when you nod. 

The two men share a look between them and you mewl as Harwin lays back against the day bed, pulling you with him until you’re lying against his chest, making you gasp as the change in angle presses his length squarely against the most sensitive spot within you. 

“Hold her steady,” Daemon murmurs behind you, uncorking the little bottle of oil.

The knight grunts when you tighten around him and one of his hands abandons its hold on your hip to cup one of your cheeks, his touch surprisingly delicate for a man of his stature. “Excited?” He questions, brown eyes studying your face carefully. 

Any reply dies on your lips in lieu of an eager gasp when you feel the prince’s presence behind you, his hips nearly touching your rear as he slots himself between Harwin’s legs. Still, you nod your head earnestly, sending pearlescent hair cascading over your shoulders to pool on the knight’s chest.

Harwin’s chest rumbles with a satisfied hum, though you’re left gasping at the feel of one of Daemon’s hands deftly parting your arse cheeks, swiftly followed by massage oil being drizzled between them, filling the room with the scent of lavender. When you jolt slightly at the feel of a finger skirting over your entrance, the prince is quick to reprimand you with a sharp slap to the rear, leaving your skin tingling in its wake. 

“You’re going to be good for us?” Harwin questions, drawing your attention back to him as he smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. 

“Y-Yes, yes,” you nod listlessly, breaths staggered as Daemon fingers you open, expertly preparing you. Again, you earn a pleased hum from the man below you. 

The next few moments pass in a blur – your head spins as the prince readies you and Harwin placates you all the while with gentle caresses and kisses, even snaking a hand between your bodies to rub at your aching pearl.

Finally, Daemon seems satisfied and pulls his fingers from you before slotting himself against you, quickly slicking up his cock with more of the oil before pressing the head against your opening, grinning smugly when you press back against him. 

“Fuck, there we go,” he rasps, carefully sliding his length into you until his hips meet your backside. 

A high, whining keen is pulled from your lungs at the stretch, tingles shooting up your spine and making you shudder at the feel of being this filled. You can do little more but gasp, pinned between two muscular bodies, as the men start to move. The feel of it is like none other, a constant push and pull as they thrust in and out of you in tandem. 

“G-Gods, fuck!” You finally cry, managing to suck in a lungful of air as your nails dig into Harwin’s chest. 

The knight beneath you isn’t faring much better than you are, a near constant stream of deep grunts and groans leaving his lips as he feels you tighten on his cock. “By the Seven, you feel divine,” he mumbles, making you cry out as he pulls you to him, strong hands encircling your waist as he mouths at your shoulder, biting at your skin.

Above you, Daemon’s violet eyes remain fixed on your ass, savoring the way it bounces each time his hips smack against it, watching as his length spears into you again and again. “What a good little whore,” he grunts, words short and clipped as he clenches his jaw. A stuttered moan is pulled from you as he grabs at your backside, fingers do doubt leaving bruises in their wake as he gropes you, “Taking us so well.”

Your muscles tense at the praise as your high threatens to overwhelm you, looming in a small pit in your belly that’s growing bigger and bigger with each passing second. Your walls tighten around Harwin again, making him hiss beneath you. 

“Gonna, Gods, I –” you cry, eyes squeezing shut as the knight bullies the sensitive spot within you, pounding against it with each rough thrust, making your words die on your tongue. 

Thankfully, Harwin understands perfectly, balancing on that thin precipice himself – the cacophonous litany of your moans and whines along with the lewd, wet sounds of their cocks plunging into you again and again only serving to push him further to his own end. 

“That’s it,” the knight rasps, grabbing your chin with one hand and directing your attention toward him once more, “Go on, peak, let me feel it.”

His command, along with another hard smack to your rear from Daemon, send you hurtling over the edge with a sharp, loud cry. You lose all sense between them, muscles clenching and relaxing rhythmically as your whole body seems to erupt into flame. 

The gorgeous look on your face, along with the steady pulse of your walls around him, finish Harwin as well. A deep groan, complementary to your own high-pitched whines, is all but punched from his chest as his length twitches within you, painting your walls with his spend. 

As your peak slowly settles, like waves receding at low tide, you’re left gasping, clinging to Harwin as Daemon still thrusts wildly into you, chasing his own high. Desperate to feel you clench around him once more, the prince reaches around, over your hip, and his greedy fingers quickly find your bud. 

“Oh!” You gasp, squirming in the knight’s grasp as the prince’s fingers roughly rub against your pearl, forcibly dragging you right back to the edge you’d just fallen from. 

“Come on,” Daemon grunts, tugging you up by the shoulder until your back presses against his chest, deep, vicious grunts filling your ear, “One more, little whore, fucking do it for me.”

You scramble in his hold, lips parting in a silent cry as your muscles jerk in sharp, uncoordinated movements. Unable to extract yourself from his hold, the overstimulation finally gives way to blinding pleasure once more and you peak with a loud, piercing yelp. 

Daemon grunts behind you, pleased, as your walls all but force a high from him as well. He thrusts into you a few more times, groaning at the feel of your slick coating his fingers and pooling between your bodies. Finally, he lets go, grumbling low words in a language you don’t understand as he fills you. 

The only sounds in the near empty brothel is the sound of staggered pants as the three of you catch your breaths, content to do little more than lie in a heap for a few moments. 

It’s Daemon that moves first, pulling himself from you with a muted grunt before swaggering over to a small vanity, pulling up and tying his trousers as he goes. 

Harwin soothes you with gentle touches as he pulls away, keenly aware of the way you wince at certain movements, overly sensitive now. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice gentler now as he surveys your body, “Nothing hurts?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his concern, so unused to men caring for you once they finish. “I’m fine, I assure you,” your lips quirk into a smile as you soothe his worries, a little sigh leaving your lips as you settle back against the silken sheets that cover the daybed. 

“Here,” Daemon grunts with indifference as he tosses a clean cloth at you, more than familiar with the layout of the place, “To clean yourself.”

You huff softly and roll your eyes playfully before grabbing the small towel and standing to wipe spend and extra oil from your skin, making a mental note to heat water for a proper bath as soon as the men leave. 

It’s then that it occurs to you that they may not let you stay, what if even this wasn’t enough to secure your freedom, to get them to overlook your transgressions? 

“So,” you start, discarding the cloth in a laundry basket by the vanity before turning and facing the men, surprised to find Harwin’s eyes already on you, “Forgive and forget, yes? The debt has been paid, etcetera?”

They share a look as they dress themselves, Daemon loosely pulling on his armor, opting to tuck most of it beneath an arm, though Harwin takes the time to fasten his properly. 

“Oh, I think you’ve more than convinced us to spare you, little minx,” the prince drawls, eyes roving over your still nude form as he approaches you and takes your chin between two long fingers, “As for your debt, well…”

You grin as he trails off, two pairs of purple eyes sliding over to Harwin. 

“There’s still the interest to consider,” he murmurs with a little chuckle, dark eyes sparkling with mirth.

thank you for taking the time to read! hope you enjoyed! :)

[adrienneleclerc]

hii i love your fics so much! i was wondering if you could do a latina!reader x charles fic were reader is asking charles juicy questions fans sent in or him guessing female products? i hope this make sense ❤️

I think I get it. I’m going to make Y/N like Kika, she has a heavy social media presence but is also a model.

Grill the Boyfriend

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Latina!Reader

Summary: Charles fans have questions and Y/N will give them the answers

Warning: spelling and grammatical errors, a few +18 questions

A/N: sorry it took me so long, this was written on my phone

Y/N was setting up the camera and ring light in the living room so her new video would turn out well.

“Muñeco, are you ready?” Y/N asked,

“I’m coming!” Charles called out from his room before coming into the living room with a black shirt and gray sweatpants. “Do we have to film this today?”

“We don’t have to, but I want to get it out of the way.” Y/N said. Both sat down on the couch and Y/N clicked a button so it could record. “Hola, mis amores, if you’re new here, my name is Y/N and welcome to a new video. Today we are here with my boyfriend, the beautiful monegasque man who’s face card never declines, Scuderia Ferrari F1 driver Charles Leclerc.”

“Hello, everyone.” Charles waves hi to the camera.

“So all of you have sent me your questions on Instagram, and today we are going to be asking them, how are you feeling, muñeco?” Y/N asked.

“A little nervous.” Charles said

“We will start with an easy question, who is your celebrity crush?” Y/N asked.

“You are.” Charles said.

“Aw, that’s sweet. Mine is (your celebrity crush) actually.” Y/N said and Charles was offended.

“That’s how you want to play it? I change my answer, my celebrity crush is Camila Morrone.” Charles said.

“Oh my gosh, Charles, she’s my friend, you are never beating the homie hopper allegations now.” Y/N said and shook his head.

“Next question, please, before you give me a migraine.” Charles said.

“Very well, what is your favorite Måneskin song?” Y/N asked.

“Mm, i like zitti e buoni, mamma mia is very good too. Zitti e buoni is my favorite.” Charles said.

“Of course it is, there are so many edits of you to that song. I like supermodel and baby said, which is also used in your edits.” Y/N said.

“You watch edits of me, Mon coeur?” Charles asked.

“Next question!” Y/N exclaimed and Charles laughed at her abruptness. “Besides wiener dogs, what is your favorite breed?”

“I like all dogs honestly, I don’t have a favorite breed, but I always wanted a golden retriever.” Charles said

“That’s because you are a golden retriever boyfriend. I always wanted a Saint Bernard.” Y/N said.

“That’s because you loved Beethoven as a kid.” Charles said.

“I still love Beethoven, such a cute movie. Anyway, next question, if we broke up, would you try to date one of my friends?” Y/N asked and Charles covered his face.

“No I wouldn’t, all of your friends are in the states.” Charles said.

“So if one of them came here, would you go out with her if we broke up?” Y/N asked.

“Of course not! I would be trying to win you back.” Charles said.

“Okay then, do you think the car has gotten worse since Monaco?” Y/N asked. Charles paused for a moment

“Legally I can’t confirm or deny that statement. I think there are strategies that the team are implementing that only work in theory but not in practice and that’s causing poor results in races.” Charles said

“What a diplomatic answer, Mr. Leclerc. Based on your recent grill the grid video, have you ever thought about standing me up when we were first talking?” Y/N asked.

“No I did not think about standing you up at all.” Charles said.

“Más te vale, eh. Okay, this question is in Spanish, has pensado en tener una fiesta de despedida para Carlitos? Have you thought about throwing a goodbye party for Carlos since it’s his last Ferrari season?” Y/N translated the question to English.

“Yes, at the Ferrari garage, we’ve already started planning.” Charles answered

“Si, en el garaje de Ferrari, ya están planeando todo para Carlitos.” Y/N translated in Spanish. “Next question, do you like my cooking?”

“There’s no way they asked that.” Charles stated but Y/N showed him the Instagram inbox with the questions. “Does Charles like your cooking” Charles read. “I do like her cooking, she tries to make her cultural dishes fit into my diet and I appreciate that.”

“Thank you, muñeco.” Y/N kissed him. “What is your favorite sex position?”

“Why?” Charles asked facing Y/N. “Why do you need to know?” Charles asked facing the camera.

“They’ve asked this multiple times, the world wants to know.” Y/N said.

“Fine, I like Cowgirl, I like it when she rides me, I also like reverse cowgirl and doggy because I like seeing Y/N’s tattoo of my driver number.” Charles explained in detail and Y/N covered her face.

“Like Haley from One Tree Hill, anyway, what is one of your kinks?” Y/N asked.

“I like choking, hair pulling, being called sir.” Charles said.

“There will be no demonstrations. Craziest place you had sex?” Y/N asked.

“On the yacht.” Charles answered easily.

“I find it concerning how comfortable you are answering these types of questions.” Y/N commented. “Moving on, have you ever thought about marriage?”

“I have thought about getting married someday, having a family, 3 children like my mom did, a nice family dog.” Charles said.

“I’ve also thought about it, I think most women have Pinterest boards of wedding dresses, rings, centerpieces, shit like that.” Y/N commented. “Have you thought about moving away from Monaco?”

“I like Monaco, my family is here, I don’t think I can love somewhere else.” Charles said.

“Have you ever read fanfics about yourself?” Y/N asked.

“Im sorry, what?” Charles asked.

“Fan fiction, have you ever read fan fiction about yourself?” Y/N asked again.

“No I haven’t, but I admire the creativity all of you have.” Charles said.

“I have read fanfics about you.” Y/N admitted to Charles. “They are really well written on tumblr, you know.”

“Why read about me when you have the real thing, Mon coeur?” Charles asked

“Because I have trouble sleeping and I need something to read.” Y/N said. A few questions later, we are in the last question. “Are you excited for Lewis to join Ferrari?”

“Of course I am! We have talked a lot off the track, we are very good friends, I can’t wait for him to join Ferrari.” Charles said.

“And that’s it for this video, hope y’all liked it, make sure to like, comment, and subscribe. For more content, follow me on TikTok and Instagram, besitos.” Y/N said and stopped the recording. “Perfect! I just need to edit it and I can post it later. Thank you for being a good sport, muñeco.” Y/N said, kissing Charles.

“Of course, Mon coeur, anything for you. Now what were you saying about someone else being your celebrity crush?” Charles asked.

“Well they are my celebrity crush, you were my celebrity crush but now I’m dating you.” Y/N said. “You really think about marriage and having a family?”

“Whenever I picture myself having a family, you are right there.” Charles said, they shared a loving kiss. “You want to head out in the yacht today?”

“I would love to.” Y/N said.

The End

hope y’all liked it!

[halarealmadridd]

she’s an icon

pairing. jude bellingham x model!reader genre. smau + written warnings. none request. hey can you pls write something about jude with a model reader. She’s super successful and ‘brought supermodels back’. shes over all just so amazing and confident. and jude is like- OBSESSED with her. he loves her so much, she loves him too but, he is soooooo in love and adores reader. thank you lovely ❤️❤️❤️🎀 face claim. bella hadid author’s note. i’m sorry for being inactive ☹️ hope you enjoy this 🤍🤍

itsjustyn

liked by gigihadid, judebellingham and 2.192.342 others

itsjustyn should i change to a country singer

view all 103.882 comments

gigihadid yes?? except you wouldn’t be successful cause you can’t sing

↪️ itsjustyn the shade????

judebellingham SHE IS MY FUTURE WIFE GUYS I WON IN LIFE

↪️ itsjustyn i won in life by dating a gremlin

↪️ judebellingham are you cheating cause i’m not a gremling

↪️ itsjustyn you very much are one xx

jennaortega off topic but where is your top from

↪️ itsjustyn honestly i forgot

↪️ jennaortega happens 🤷‍♀️

user1 she brought modeling back, change my mind.

↪️ user2 she didn’t lmao 😂😂

↪️ user3 jealous of her much??

user4 can you sign my hand so i can get it tattooed and flex on my friends

↪️ itsjustyn the problem is idk where you are

↪️ user5 NO WAY SHE REPLIED

—

itsjustyn

liked by judebellingham, charlottetilbury and 1.673.928 others

itsjustyn thank you for this opportunity @ charlottetilbury 🩷🩷

view all 97.562 comments

charlottetilbury it was a pleasure to work with you 🤍

↪️ itsjustyn 🫶

judebellingham i love you so much it’s cray-cray

↪️ itsjustyn i love you too

↪️ judebellingham seriously, just i love you too ☹️??

↪️ itsjustyn okay i’m sorry i love you till my death you are my ride or die you are my everything if you have 0 fans i am dead

↪️ judebellingham better

judebellingham you are perfection, still can’t believe i’m dating you liked by creator

↪️ user1 down bad much?😂

user2 she is so pretty what the hell

adrianalima mas que beleza 😍 (what a beauty)

↪️ itsjustyn 🩷🩷🩷

—

“babe, did i ever tell you how much i love you and how beautiful you are?” jude interrupted the comforting silence, looking at you, slightly tilting his head.

“yes, many times” you chuckled, burying your head deeper into the warmth of your boyfriends chest.

you loved nights like this, where you would find comfort in each other and slowly fall asleep in the dim light from the fake candle on the bedside table, laying in bed, laughing like fools.

jude would remind you for your success on multiple times of the day. you could almost say that you were suffering from success. was it annoying sometimes? yes. but is it heartwarming to see that your lover cares a lot about you and keeps up with your recent collaborations? also yes.

you shared one last kiss and then you both dozed off, tangled in each other.

[the-flaneur]

lights, camera...cook? (mv1) | pt2

pairing: max verstappen x east asian twitch chef!reader [smau]

summary: max does not know how to cook. luckily, his next-door neighbour and resident internet chef might be able to help him out of his pickle. quite literally.

warnings: none (i think)

wc: 1716 + social media posts

a/n: thank you for all the support and love for pt1 ❤️ - hopefully pt2 is just as entertaining :)

additional pic creds: toka (youtube)

[prev] [masterlist] [requests]

-> twitch, cooking mommy

-> twitter

-> irl

“Mate, are you sure we’re supposed to get up at 6am to meet her? I need to sleep,” Lando whines over the phone, as Max rolls his eyes.

“She’s giving you the opportunity to eat at a Michelin star restaurant and you’re saying no,” Max snaps back, toying with Sassy, who’s climbed onto his lap from his gaming desk.

“Well count me in. Alexandra’s been pestering me to ask you if she could visit the restaurant and meet her as well. She’s a massive fan already,” Charles grins as Alexandra laughs at his quip

“When we all meet her,” Max says, “you can ask her. I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

“Fine I’ll go then. Meet at the restaurant?” Lando groans.

☆

In the early dawn of the crisp December day, there were very few passerbys on the street. Those that were there, their eyes lingered on the small group standing at the entrance to Le Louis XV. It was Max, Lando and Charles, standing awkwardly and awaiting your arrival. 

You and Max had been exchanging a multitude of texts, ranging from cat pics to his maxplaining of F1 technicalities to the best recipes for homemade stroopwafel. Max would even say (hopefully), that the two of you had even begun delving into the domain of flirty friends, with your quick wit and humour, a complement to Max’s deadpan yet very humorous attitude. 

You had mentioned off-handedly wanting to meet Max in real life. It had gone on throughout the entire week, before you had invited him out to lunch at Le Louis XV. 

At first he was ready to excitedly accept your invitation; he had never actually met you in real life and really wanted to talk to you about you. But when he had stopped and actually re-read your message, his doubts about your intentions began creeping in.

What if you were only there to help him cook? What if he had taken it the wrong way? What if you didn’t actually like him, like he thought? Just wanting to be friends? What i-

Max, he chided, you’re being ridiculous. But just for good measure, he surmised, he invited Charles and Lando too. And that’s how he dragged them both (well only Lando, Charles had come quite willingly) out to a lunch “date” with the four of you.

“Hey guys! Sorry I’m late, the babies refused to let me leave this morning,” you yelled as you ran up to the group. 

Max was in awe.

You were gorgeous. He had already seen your pictures on your Instagram and on Twitch, but you were a real knockout in real life. Not in like the high-end supermodel way (although Max would’ve loved to see you grace the cover of a magazine if he was a horny teenager), but in the way which it felt like you were an angel on Earth, delicate and pretty, and a smile as innocent as-

“FUCK!” you swore, accidentally stumbling down the last step before the restaurant’s entrance. Max rushed forward to catch you and your bags, as they went flying towards the group. As he caught you in his arms, you looked up at him and grinned. 

“Did I fall for you?” you laughed, allowing Max to push you back up as you graciously took your bags back from him and gave him a tight hug.

“Hi Maxie. Hello Charles and Lando, nice to finally meet you! Max has loves to talk about you guys-” 

“Hi,” Max blushed at the nickname, avoiding the smirking glances of Charles and Lando as they watched that interaction. Charles and Lando quickly shook your proffered hand, before trailing behind you as you unlocked the door to the restaurant.

The intense decadent and luxury was not lost on the three, as you ascend the gilded ornate stairs. The walls were lined with classical paintings, china and candles; the Le Louis XV was truly a stark contrast of the modest personality of its namesake, instead harkening back to his predecessor, Louis XIV. Afterall, one must live according to la dolce vita.

As you began rambling on about the history and position of the restaurant in the heart of Monaco, from beside you, Max stared longingly. You were literally perfect, a great cook, funny, witty, a great conversationalist and listener, and a cat lover: what more could he want in someone?

“He’s never going to stop talking about her, is he?” Charles laughs, watching the two of you converse intensely about the climate and geography of Monaco and its food production. 

“No way mate,” Lando smiles, watching you blush at Max’s comments.

☆

“I’ve just prepared a small meal for us. It’s a bit more difficult deciding what to cook for three F1 drivers, considering our usual guests,” you smiled, pushing over a series of dishes on a cart. Their eyes bulged out when they saw your “small meal”, which actually consisted of at least eight different kinds of cheese, six starters and seven mains and a tiered display of an assortment of desserts, no less.

“Max already warned me about your…distaste for fish, Lando. So don't worry about the fish-looking dishes. They’re definitely not what you think they taste. Like this one is actually veal grilled with chard and girolle mushroom,” you gestured towards a gorgeous dish, plated with golden mushrooms and deep maroon chard. 

“Now enjoy the cooking of Le Louis XV!”  

The three men could definitely see why you were the executive chef of the three Michelin star restaurant. Between quiet conversation about everything and anything, every bite was desired and savoured, the flavours exploding on the tongue or simply melting off the dish.

The cheeses were flavoursome, some creamy and others intense, but all gorgeous with a pairing of wine (or gin and tonic in Max’s case). The starters and mains were all cooked to perfection, tender yet firm, and packed intensely full of rich aromatics and spices. The desserts were truly the cherry on top, light and fluffy, beautifully contrasting the mains.

The conversation quickly turned to you, with Lando and Charles interrogating about your life, career and everything in between. Max had tried to stop them from grilling you too much, but you seemed to enjoy all the questions, answering each one with a laugh and a smile. You were not starstruck by the trio, but appreciated their deep friendship and care for one another, especially as they asked about you and Max. You enjoyed the company of people who genuinely seemed to like you and your cooking, and it was one of the happier lunches at the restaurant in the past year.

Your mind wandered off as the three began talking about the upcoming 2024 F1 season (despite it still being another three months away). Although you and Max had not said anything yet, you knew there was a deeper connection just waiting to blossom.

It was just a matter of time.

☆

“It was lovely meeting you two today, hopefully we can catch up soon enough. I’ll message Alex for a lunch date Charles,” you promised, gifting them both a small boxed cake, before heading off with Max.

“Now to your apartment, my lady?” Max joked, as you started to enter your address in his GPS. Although he knew Monaco like the back of his hand, he didn’t want to accidentally drop you off on the other side of the country (even if he wanted to spend more time with you).

A small ding alerted Max’s attention back to you, and his eyebrow furrowed when he read the display on the screen.

“DESTINATION: HOME”

“You live here?” you both turned to each other, surprised. Max had no idea that you lived in the same building as he did, while you were surprised that you hadn’t already recognised the view from Max’s apartment in his streams and photos. 

“When did you move in? I swear I’ve never seen you before,” Max asked, slowly pulling away from the curb and back onto the road.

“Well I trained in Lyon for three years, then I moved to Marseille for six months before I visited Monaco. My father’s old friend Ducasse then asked in 2018, if I wanted to become his apprentice at the restaurant, and train to become the executive chef eventually. So I left and moved to Monaco in 2019,”

“And you’ve been living and working here ever since?” Max sighed. If only he had maybe stepped outside his apartment more than three times excluding the F1 season, he could’ve met you a lot sooner.

☆

Entering the elevator, you and Max both moved to press your apartment number on the panel, your fingers brushing against each other as you pressed adjacent buttons. You quickly tore your hand away, hiding it behind your pants, as the elevator began to move upwards.

“What a coincidence that we live beside each other,” you awkwardly laughed, staring at yourself in the mirror. The elevator was once again filled with quiet silence, as the elevator near the top.

“Hey…”

“Max…”

“Oh you go first,” you laughed, staring up at Max.

“IreallylikedyourcompanytodayIwaswonderingifyouwantedtogooutonadatelikejustthetwoofus?” Max said hurriedly, his eyes straying from your gaze. You let out a small gasp, before a beaming smile was plastered across your face.

“I would love to, Max! I thought you would never ask,” you smiled bashfully, grinning at him as the doors opened.

The two of you walked out and awkwardly lingered in the hallway between your two apartments, not wanting to say goodbye just yet. “Thank you for today Max. I can’t wait to see you again,” you smiled, placing a quick kiss on his stubbled cheek. His eyes widened before looking down at your playful ones which sparkled in the light. A hot flush spread across his face, his hand reaching out to grasp your own. However, you quickly stepped back from his grasp, skipping down the hall to reach your own door.

“Also Maxie, I would love for you to come by my apartment some time,” you giggled, waving at him, before you closed your door behind you. Max stepped into his apartment and with a blush and a grin out into the Monaco harbour, he was struck with a sudden realisation.

It wasn’t just a major crush. He was in love.

[next]

series taglist

@lyannesworld @heavy-vettel @bloodyymaryyy @therealplaguedoctor @gigigreens

© the-flanuer || do not copy, rewrite or translate any of my work on any platform.

[astrophileous]

Every Single Day

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female Reader

Synopsis: When his daughter demands him to tell the story of how the two of you met, Spencer can't help but oblige.

Warning(s): dad spencer🥰, established relationship (eventually), parent-child relationships, alcohol consumption, brief interaction with a douchebag, made-up astronomy facts, made-up places, idk if there's any cursing but I'll throw it in here to be safe, implications of sex and nsfw themes (minors be advised), pregnancy, mentions of illness, mentions and/or implications of character death, topics of loss and grief, angst and fluff because I love the best of both worlds👍 (pls lmk if I missed anything)

Word Count: 7700-ish

Author's Note: hi 👋 I'm back again with another dad!spencer fic bc apparently I'm a sucker for him. I got a lil carried away with this one lol but anyways, I'm also writing this for the meet cute challenge hosted by the amazing and talented @imagining-in-the-margins so pls go head to her profile and show some love cause she's a peach ❤️ don't forget to leave a LIKE+COMMENT+REBLOG

Criminal Minds Masterlist

The air smelled of freshly brewed coffee. Against the wind, shades of crimson and orange swayed on the trees. Fallen leaves crunched underneath his feet to the cadence of his leisured steps.

Two deep breaths, in and out. Spencer Reid greeted autumn with the deep longing of an old friend.

Next to him walked a source of light bigger than the sun, jumping and bouncing excitedly on the sidewalk. Her tiny fingers emitted warmth inside of his hand. There was a skip to her step that reminded him of the innocence he had long lost. The innocence she now possessed.

Spencer loved this little girl beyond everything he had ever known.

"Puddle, Dee."

The tiny bundle of joy jumped to escape the small pool of water, grinning up at her father, who then began ruffling her hair until she evaded his onslaught with a shriek.

"Daddy?"

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"You never told me how you met Mommy."

Spencer glanced down at the 6-year-old, dressed gorgeously in her favorite floral dress, complete with a sweater that had entailed a hearty discussion about humans' perception of cold. It was only after he bribed her with the promise of a chocolate cupcake from Wakey Bakey did Spencer finally convince her to wear the woolen piece of clothing.

His daughter stared at him with a radiant smile peeking out behind a curtain of hair. A smile which Spencer always argued had belonged to you, even though the rest of Diana Aurora Reid was the splitting image of her beloved father.

"Surely I've told you before, Dee."

"Nuh-uh."

"Of course I have."

"No, Daddy. You haven't."

"Pumpkin, you know I don't forget stuff ever," Spencer said, looking at the little girl who was swaying along to the rhythm of her footsteps. "I used to tell you that story all the time. Back when you were still a baby."

Just as predicted, Diana let out a dramatic gasp as if Spencer had uttered the most offensive thing known to mankind; like claiming the earth was actually flat, for example. Spencer couldn't contain his grin upon seeing her reaction.

"But Daddy, that was so long ago!"

"Do you not remember, Dee?"

Diana shook her head.

"Fine. But Mommy must've told you the story already, right?"

"She has, but--"

"But?"

"But I wanna hear it from you."

Little Diana knew that her father could never resist her puppy dog eyes, especially garnished with that adorable pout on top. Once upon a time, you declared it sickeningly cute and annoying whenever Spencer would pull the same trick on you. When Dee started doing the same to him, you had simply laughed and kissed his cheek, letting him get a sweet taste of his own medicine.

Spencer smiled at the young girl next to him, squeezing her nose and relishing in the gleeful squeal that echoed from her chest.

"What do you wanna hear, Pumpkin?"

Diana held her chin, seemingly deep in contemplation before deciding, "Everything, Dad! I wanna hear it from the start."

"The start, huh?" Spencer hummed thoughtfully, his mind already reeling back to the first moment he ever laid eyes on you.

The story began on yet another ordinary Friday night.

Luck was on the BAU's side when the team managed to wrap the case they had been working all week just before Friday afternoon. By the time the sun was setting, their jet was already high up in the sky, en route from the state of Delaware to Quantico, Virginia. Spencer was looking forward to going home at a reasonable hour for once--maybe catching up on the four reading materials he had promptly pushed aside after his team was called to Delaware to work on the latest case--but that plan dissipated when Derek Morgan suddenly appeared by his side.

"Drinks. Tonight. Everyone's coming, and I'm not taking no for an answer," Derek said before dragging a reluctant Spencer away with him, ignoring the protests that the younger man kept grumbling under his breath all the way to the team's favorite bar.

Spencer just hadn't known it yet, but later down the road, he would spend the rest of eternity thanking Derek Morgan for dragging him along that night.

The Friday night crowd at Shaw's was borderline brutal, but fortunately for the team, a booth in the corner became vacant the moment they stepped into the threshold.

Two hours later, Spencer's fellow teammates weren't even close to calling it a night. The last chorus of "I Wanna Dance with Somebody" by Whitney Houston had just finished blasting from the speakers when Derek sauntered back to the booth, twirling a flushed Penelope Garcia in front of him. Spencer slipped out of the booth to allow them in--preferring to stay on the most outer seat instead of crammed between his tipsy friends' bodies--before sitting down once more.

"Hey, Genius," Penelope called, waving her empty beer glass in front of Spencer's face. "Be a darling and get me a refill, will you?"

"Garcia--" Spencer quickly snatched the glass from her hand before she could send it smashing against someone's head, "--are you sure you want a refill?"

Penelope scrunched her nose. "Why do you ask?"

"Because I think you're plenty drunk already."

"I'm not that drunk," Penelope denied, giggling when an unexpected hiccup interrupted her slurred words. "Derek, tell the beautiful Doctor I'm not that drunk."

"She's not that drunk, Reid." Derek grinned. "While you're at it..."

Spencer could only sigh when Derek slid his own empty glass across the table.

It was past 10 o'clock at night, and the crowd of people in the establishment seemed to have doubled in the couple of hours that the team had been there. Spencer had to squeeze himself through the ocean of patrons flooding the bar, barely able to move his limbs without other people's arms or elbows bumping against his ribcage.

Spencer was waiting for the bartender to complete his order when he happened to glance towards his right, catching sight of the concealed panic that triggered every profiler bone in his body.

Any other person would have taken one look at your face and presumed that everything was alright, but Spencer knew better. He recognized the frantic movement of your eyes, the tight press of your lips, and the impatient knocking of your fingertips on the counter. He only caught the tail end of your voice before discreetly listening to what the man you were talking to had to say.

"--so, unfortunately, I can't."

"I told you, Baby. My Veyron runs at over 260 miles per hour. We can go to Red Clover Hill and get you back home safely by twelve. It's simple math," the guy slurred smugly.

"Actually, that's not true."

The drunken man turned around at Spencer's interruption.

"Excuse me?"

"The Red Clover Hill State Park is approximately 229 miles away from here. Though theoretically, you could drive your Veyron at its maximum velocity, which is around 268 miles per hour, it's very unlikely you'll be able to maintain that speed for the entirety of the ride, considering the terrain you would have to go through between here and there. The fastest you can probably get to the park is in 60 minutes, give or take, and that's being generous. You would have to drive back to D.C. as soon as you arrive at the park if you wish to be back by twelve. It's just realistically impossible."

The man in front of him couldn't be less impressed by Spencer's lengthy rant.

"And who the hell are you?" the drunken guy said, pinning Spencer with a stare that was clearly supposed to be intimidating.

Spencer didn't even flinch. "No one. Just a guy who happens to know a lot about... simple math."

Your loud cough tore Spencer's attention away from the drunk man and towards you, who looked ready to burst from the laughter you were holding underneath. Even under the terrible lighting of the bar, Spencer could still pinpoint the hint of unspoken amusement glimmering inside your eyes.

"Sorry, Bill," you said to the man. "I really do need to be back home by twelve tonight. Maybe some other time?"

Bill didn't need to be told twice. He received the message loud and clear.

Spencer watched the other man scurry away, tail between his legs, before your charming smile enraptured him once more.

"Thank you for that. I was beginning to think he might never leave."

"Happy to help." Spencer smiled thinly, scratching the back of his neck even though the spot wasn't itchy. "What did, uh, why did he want to take you to Red Clover Hill, of all places?"

"Oh. That was... partially my fault." You grinned innocently. "I didn't know he was gonna be an insufferable drunk when he came over, and I was in the middle of watching this."

You pulled out a silver tablet from your lap. Spencer took a peek at the screen, seeing what looked like a live feed of the night sky--over North Carolina, judging by the visible constellations on the vast scene--stamped with the day's date at the bottom of the footage.

"You're watching the Roux-Nell?" Spencer deduced after gathering the facts: the live feed of North Carolina sky, the mention of Red Clover Hill State Park that harbored one of the highest grounds in North Carolina, including a collection of some of the most sophisticated telescopes in the country; you must have been planning to view that night's sighting of the Roux-Nell comet, its first time since the last one in 1927, and only its third one in history.

"Yes! How did you... don't tell me. You're an avid astronomy fan, too?"

Spencer's responding smile only made you beam even brighter.

"Anyway, that guy earlier, Bill, he approached me and asked what I was watching. So, I started talking about the Roux-Nell and about how I wish I was at Red Clover Hill right now since everyone keeps saying it's one of the best spots to view tonight's sighting. I thought he was genuinely interested until he started talking about his Veyron this, his Veyron that. I didn't even realize until a whole five minutes later that he was talking about his car!"

When you finally finished explaining, your eyes locked with Spencer's hazel ones before you seemed to cower shyly.

"Sorry. I can get a little excited when I'm talking sometimes."

"No! Don't be, it was--" Spencer stopped himself before he could complete his sentence.

What was he about to say?

Insightful? Entertaining?

Endearing?

Eventually, Spencer opted to settle for something safe and simple. "I get that way too, sometimes. A lot of the times, actually. So you don't have to apologize."

The fire flickered back inside your gaze following Spencer's admission. It burned brilliantly beneath the kindness you radiated, forged by the sharp intelligence he could see shining out of your eyes.

"So--" Spencer cleared his throat, attempting to shift the conversation in order to distract his racing mind, "--why did you tell him you needed to be back home by twelve?"

"Oh, that? I told him I'm donating blood tomorrow morning, so I need to at least get seven hours of sleep for the night."

"That's a clever lie."

You tilted your head slightly at his statement. "What makes you think it's a lie?"

"Because you're here. Nobody drinks alcohol before they're supposed to donate blood."

Your eyes flashed with surprise. "Not bad, Mister. You're very perceptive."

Spencer shrugged, trying not to appear too flustered by your casual compliment. "It's what I do."

You raised an inquisitive eyebrow at his reply.

"I'm a profiler."

"Profiler?"

"With the FBI."

"FBI, huh?" You hummed, something akin to intrigue swirling in your eyes. "So, you study criminals? Trying to decipher their way of thinking, why they do what they do. Dissect their past history for any related trauma, maybe even pinpoint a psychological stressor that could trigger a criminal behavior, that kind of stuff?"

Upon hearing your response, it was Spencer's turn to be intrigued. "Exactly that kind of stuff. How did you...?"

Grinning sheepishly, you pulled a professional badge out of your pocket, holding it up in front of Spencer so he could see the emblem covering its surface.

"Edgewater Psychology Center," Spencer read the words aloud, understanding dawning on him as he found your eyes once more. "You're a psychologist."

"Guilty as charged."

Spencer couldn't fight off his amused smile. "That explains it, then."

"You know," you began, leaning further against the bar counter to shorten the distance between you and Spencer, "I've never met a profiler in person before. Most of my colleagues, they have consulted on a federal case at least once in the past few years, but the bureau hasn't yet contacted me so far."

"Really?" Spencer took a step forward, closing the distance by a mere inch. "Sounds like a big loss for us. We're idiots."

You bit down on your bottom lip to suppress a smile, your gaze flicking between Spencer's own lips and eyes. For the shortest of minutes, nothing else existed in Spencer's world but you; your smile, your scent, and your kind eyes. You were a magnet carved out of his wildest dreams, and Spencer, well, he might as well have been made out of the purest of irons.

But before Spencer could get lost deeper in your relentless gaze, a shout of his name slashed through the air from across the bar. Back at the booth, Derek was waving his hand frantically in the air, stopping only when Spencer signaled him to sit back down and that he was returning in a minute.

"I have to go." He smiled tentatively, apologetically.

"Oh?"

Spencer tried not to revel too much over the small dip of disappointment at the edge of your voice.

"My friends. They, uh--"

"Oh, no, it's alright. You don't have to explain," you told him gently. "See you around, Mr. Profiler. Hope you have a great night."

With that said, you went back to watching the live feed on your tablet while Spencer, begrudgingly, trudged across the room with two refilled beer glasses in his hands, back to where his friends--minus Rossi and Hotch who were conversing among themselves at one of the standing tables--were waiting.

"Finally," Derek groaned once Spencer slammed the glasses down on the table.

"Who was that?" Emily asked as he slipped into the booth.

"Huh?" Spencer followed Emily's gaze, finding you perched up at the very end of it. "No one."

"No one?" Emily's eyebrows rose. "She didn't seem like no one from where I was sitting."

Spencer took an insanely large sip of his leftover beer.

"Holy shit, you like her, " Derek muttered. "He likes her. Pretty boy's got a crush."

"No, I don't."

"Yeah? Tell that to those red cheeks of yours." JJ chuckled.

Instinctively, Spencer touched his own cheeks as if he could physically feel the change of colors on his skin.

"I'm just tipsy," he tried to reason.

A collective scoff reverberated through the entire booth.

"What's her name, Spence?" JJ asked.

When a full minute ticked by without so much as a grunt of acknowledgment from Spencer, Penelope reached out and slapped the man right across his shoulder.

"Ow!"

"You didn't ask for her name?!" Penelope exclaimed.

"It didn't come up!"

"That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard you say, Reid," Emily noted before sipping her margarita.

"Nope. I'm not having this. Not tonight. Look at me, Sunshine." Penelope grabbed Spencer's face in her hands, forcing him to stare directly into her glasses-rimmed eyes. "I'm not letting you spend the rest of the night like this. You will get your cute little tushy out there and talk to that girl. You will get her name and also her number, maybe even ask the nice pretty lady out while you're at it. Now, have I made myself clear?"

Spencer barely managed to swallow his nerves before he offered Penelope two tiny nods.

"Good. I don't wanna see your face back here if you're not at least pocketing her phone number. Now shoo."

Penelope sent Spencer flying across the bar with a dramatic stumble. By the time he reached your side, Spencer was nothing less than a stuttering mess and a thundering heart.

"Hi," Spencer breathed out once he found your welcoming eyes.

"Um, hi?"

"I'm Spencer."

"Okay... Spencer?"

"Reid. Spencer Reid." He cleared his throat. "Sorry, it's just... I realized while I was sitting over there--well, my friends actually made me realize--that I, uh, never got your name. Which, you know, of course I never got it because I didn't ask. So, I was coming here, wondering if maybe you'd like to give it... to me?"

You blinked once. Twice.

By the third blink, Spencer wished the earth would open up and devour him whole.

"You want my name?"

Spencer nodded.

"What are you planning to do with it?"

"Call you?" At your bemused expression, Spencer quickly elaborated, "Not call like call. I meant referring. Yep. That's it. Although, maybe if you want to, I would love to call you as well. Sometime. And perhaps, you know, ask you out... on a date?"

Spencer swallowed the lump of nervousness in his throat. In front of him, you were pretty, even with the conspicuous scrutiny in your eyes as they assessed Spencer as if he was some sort of an enigma. Embarrassment burned hotter through his veins with every second that passed by. He was merely two exhales of breath away from dashing out of the door when you finally spoke up.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

Smiling, you produced an old receipt seemingly out of thin air and asked the bartender to lend you a pen, scribbling something down as soon as you had it between your fingers. When the tiny piece of paper emigrated to Spencer's hand, the Cheshire cat in him jumped out once he noticed the ten digit numbers written neatly underneath a name he could only assume as yours.

"Will that be enough, Spencer Reid?"

"For now," Spencer replied before grabbing his wallet and shoving the paper containing your name inside. "I'll call you."

"You better."

After Spencer's departure, you returned your attention back to the tablet in front of you. Barely five minutes later, though, your serene watching session was once again interrupted. Only this time, it was by the ringing of your phone.

"Hello?"

"Hi, this is Spencer."*

Surprised, you swiveled your head left and right, stopping once you spotted Spencer standing on the other side of the room. His eyes were trained towards you, and behind him, a booth of four people seemed to have directed their attention at you as well.

"Spencer?"

"I know this is very untoward," he began, "but would you like to go out with me?"

"Boy, you certainly don't waste any time at all, do you?"

"I believe it's called being efficient," he countered, making you laugh. "So, what do you say?"

"Sure," you answered, enjoying the way Spencer beam at you from across the room. "I would love to, Spencer."

A breeze blew gently against Spencer's face, caressing the tendrils of curly hair that had fallen over his forehead. Diana's little fingers started to grip his tighter as the wind strengthened.

"Did you take Mommy on that date, Daddy?"

"Of course," Spencer replied, reminiscing the exact day when he had picked you up in your apartment, sweat glistening on his palm as he clutched the bouquet of flowers in his right hand. "We went to see a Mark Rothko exhibition at the National Gallery of Art, and before I took her home, we stopped by Wakey Bakey to buy some lemon tarts."

Diana gasped. "Wakey Bakey?!"

The little girl's reaction compelled a chuckle from Spencer's chest. "Yes, Pumpkin. Wakey Bakey."

"What happened after that, Daddy?"

"What do you think happened after that, Dee?"

"Um--" Diana pursed her lips, deeply lost in thought, "--did you become girlfriend and boyfriend?"

"Yes, we did."

"And you got married?!"

Spencer laughed at Diana's apparent excitement over the prospect of her parents getting married. "We did, yeah, eventually. After I proposed to her."

"Oh! Oh! The proposal!" Diana exclaimed, jumping up and down in the middle of the sidewalk without a care in the world. Spencer had to tug her back towards him before she could harm herself or the other pedestrians. "Tell me! Tell me! Tell me about the proposal, Daddy!"

"You wanna hear the story about how I proposed to your mother?"

"Yes, please!"

Chuckling to himself, Spencer mumbled a quick fine before his gears had started turning towards a specific memory in his mind. Spencer was sure, even without his eidetic ability, there was no way he could have ever forgotten about the day in question.

The day you agreed to have him as your forever.

Spencer had fallen in love with you during the first date, right around the time of yet another one of his animated ramblings, where instead of shaming him to shut the hell up, you had simply stared at him in awe and said, "You're pretty when you talk."

The young agent was sure he couldn't get rid of the blush adorning his cheeks for at least an entire week.

By the time the fifth date rolled around, Spencer was absolutely certain that you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. It wasn't a surprise, then, that a few weeks before your first anniversary came up, Spencer had pocketed a diamond ring with a promise of forever on the tip of his tongue.

Combing the courage to take this historical leap was easy. Difficult was trying to conjure up the perfect proposal plan that he would deem worthy enough for someone like you. There were no rooms for mistakes. Spencer wanted everything to be perfect because he believed you deserved nothing less.

Which was why, in moments of desperation, Spencer ended up turning to his fellow teammates in the FBI for help.

"I don't know if I'm the right person to ask about this, Spence. Will only ever proposed to me after finding out about Henry, and we only got married after I thought he was gonna die on the field," JJ explained. "It was never the most ideal of situations, but I would never change a thing even if I could."

Unsatisfied with JJ's answer, Spencer proceeded to find the BAU's tech genius in her bat cave.

"Go big or go home, my friend," Penelope said following a 10-minute hysteria she erupted into upon learning about Spencer's intent to propose. "Splash out on the bottle. Don't hold back on the grandeur. Spend all of your savings if you have to."

"Garcia--"

"Fine, maybe not all of your savings. You should leave some for the wedding."

Spencer spent weeks mulling over Penelope's advice.

Working as an FBI agent didn't pay as well as most people thought it would, and Spencer's tendency to collect first edition books wasn't exactly an affordable hobby. It meant that as much as Spencer wanted a proposal filled with the greatest grandeur--just as Penelope had suggested--he didn't have a fat enough balance in his bank account to make his ideal proposal concept a reality.

And Spencer probably would have spent the limited fund in his savings down to its very last cent, had it not been for Derek catching him browsing through the internet for the cost of a hot air balloon ride.

"I just want to give her the perfect proposal," Spencer admitted after he finished revealing everything.

"Kid, it doesn't matter," Derek said. "Don't you see? She doesn't care about hot air balloons or any kind of grandeur. She only cares about you. There's no such thing as a perfect proposal. You're just using it as an excuse to put off asking her 'cause you're scared of what she's gonna say. But you don't need to. You two are so devastatingly in love, it's disgusting."

In the end, grandeur wasn't even present in the room when Spencer decided to pop the question.

On that particular night, Spencer arrived in his apartment just a few minutes before midnight. His aching muscles were calling for sleep as he toed his shoes off, but his footsteps soon ceased when he caught sight of his dimly lit living room.

You were fast asleep on the couch, face illuminated by the television light. Spencer's movements were careful as he knelt in front of you, studying the soft and hard edges of your features like historians would an ancient scripture. He couldn't help it when his fingers reached out on their own accord, brushing the softest of touches against the high point of your cheekbone. Inside its cage, Spencer's heart started to stir.

You were so beautiful.

Even after one year of being together, Spencer was often still taken back by how lovely you were. He adored every detail of your being, most fervently the scars that littered your skin in a constellation of stars. All of the places in your body where your scrutiny had wandered in a fleet of insecurity were the same places that Spencer wanted to worship for the rest of his life. In his eyes, you were eternally magnificent, and this thought clouded Spencer's mind as he went to shake your shoulder gently.

"Spencer?" Your groggy voice sounded meek in the comfort of Spencer's apartment, the same one he had been sharing with you since you moved in three months prior. Your lips tilted with the tiniest hint of a smile at the sight of him, and Spencer thought he would melt when your fingers instinctively reached for his face. "You're back."

"I'm back," he confirmed, leaving a trail of kisses on your palm. "Why aren't you in bed, my love?"

"I was waiting for you," you admitted. "I have something to say."

"Really? Me too."

"Hm?" Curiosity flared in the center of your eyes. "You first."

Smiling, Spencer leaned down to steal a quick kiss before saying, "Marry me."

Your breath hitched.

After a few seconds of silence, your nervous laughter filled his ears. "Right. That's a nice one, Spencer. Very funny."

"I'm not joking, sweetheart."

Spencer reached into the inside pocket of his satchel, pulling out the velvet box that had weighed down his bag by several grams for the past few weeks. Any remnant of sleep you still had in your eyes was instantly washed away the moment he opened the box to reveal a pretty ring sitting inside.

"I've had this for a while now," Spencer admitted. "I kept putting off asking you because I believed I wanted everything to be perfect, until Derek knocked some sense into my head and made me realize that I was just afraid of taking the leap. He's right, as always, but don't tell him I said that."

Spencer paused at your teary laugh, relishing in the melodic sound that made his heart nearly burst in two. "My love, I don't need the perfect proposal when you're the promise of a perfect life. Any life with you is the one I want to live for the rest of my time, and I want to start living that life from this point onward. What do you say, sweetheart? Will you marry me?"

Spencer never thought the word yes could sound so incredibly spectacular.

The celebration had started right away, commemorated by the shedding of clothes from each other's bodies, finalized by panting breaths and entangled limbs beneath rumpled sheets. You lay on the bed with your palm on Spencer's chest, his own hand tracing invisible patterns on the vast canvass of your skin.

Spencer watched as you stared at the ring circling your finger. "Do you like it? We can exchange it for a new one if--"

"Spencer Reid, don't you dare."

"Apologies, ma'am." He grinned, continuing the random patterns he was drawing on your skin before he spoke again, "By the way, you said you also have something to tell me."

You looked up at him with a blinding smile before scooting out of Spencer's arm and reaching for the nightstand. When Spencer saw what you had rummaged out of the bedside drawer, Spencer thought his heart had forgotten how to beat.

"Is that--"

"Surprise," you murmured giddily, handing over the object in your hand into Spencer's awaiting palm. "I found out yesterday, but I wanted to tell you in person."

Spencer sat up on the bed, staring with disbelief at the small item in his hand. He only realized he had started to cry when a drop of tears fell down, blurring the two tiny pink lines in his vision.

"This is... you're..."

"I'm pregnant, Spencer," you professed.

Just an hour earlier, Spencer thought the word yes was the best thing he could ever hear falling from your mouth. But as he held you in his arms, his lips catching yours once more in a heated kiss, Spencer realized that you had many more surprising admissions waiting to be said out loud.

And Spencer couldn't wait to spend the rest of his life listening to every single one of them.

"Daddy, are you saying I was already in Mommy's belly when you proposed to her?"

"Yes, you were, Pumpkin," Spencer said, smiling at the blatant curiosity in Little Dee's eyes. "You were a surprise we didn't see coming."

Diana's responding smile was a picture of satisfaction. The father-daughter pair continued to walk down the street until Dee's voice tore through the silence once again, "Daddy?"

"Hm?"

"I thought you said a man and a woman can only make babies after they're married."

Spencer's footsteps halted on the pavement.

The silence must have stretched for only a partial of a minute, but the expectant stare Dee was nailing against his face, along with the internal panic that had short-circuited Spencer's brain made it seem as if the world had skidded into a standstill. Frantic eyes darted everywhere for a chance at rectification, and Spencer couldn't stop the words from tumbling off his lips when he saw the worn-down sign of a florist up ahead.

"Dee, would you like to buy some flowers for Mommy?"

The little girl squealed an excited yes before skipping the few steps left towards the flower shop. Spencer let out a relieved breath at having narrowly escaped such a harrowing crisis.

Once Spencer stepped into the shop, a multitude of fragrances immediately enveloped his surroundings. Diana was lingering back and forth around the vibrant displays when Spencer approached, her tiny eyebrows frowning in the most adorable way as she assessed the rows of flowers in front of her.

"Have you decided yet, Pumpkin?"

"Can we get some of Mommy's favorites, Dad?" Diana requested, pointing her tiny finger at the display of flowers she knew to be your favorites. "And then we can add some of these daisies, too!"

Spencer couldn't fight the smile blossoming on his face as he asked the florist to assemble a bouquet made out of daisies--Dee's favorite type of flowers, the same one printed all over the dress she was wearing--along with your favorite flowers in the center. Diana stared in awe at the deft work administered by the florist, her mouth forming an "O" once the bouquet was wrapped and ready to go.

"Do you think Mommy will like them, Daddy?"

"I know she will, Pumpkin," Spencer answered earnestly, his memory replaying that first time he had come home bringing the same arrangement of flowers in his hand.

Spencer came home to the apartment in utter disarray, and yet, it still was the best view that he had ever witnessed in his entire life.

Ever since his office was transformed into a nursery, the books he previously kept in there had to be relocated to the living area. Most of them had gone by now--some donated, and some others sold at second-hand bookstores--but piles of them still littered in various corners of the room.

Apart from his mountainous collection of books, small trinkets also covered every available surface of the place. From the empty nursing bottles in the kitchen sink to the breast pump on the counter, and the tiny socks on the coffee table to the pacifier jammed between the sofa cushions; every single one of them contributed to the mess that his apartment had become. Yet as he paused to inspect every inch of the place, Spencer couldn't find any other emotion besides warmth flooding his chest.

Muffled footsteps padded towards the living room before you appeared from the hallway with a freshly bathed Diana in your arms. As soon as your eyes locked with his, the crease between your eyebrows automatically vanished.

"You're home."

"I'm home." Spencer grinned before welcoming you into his embrace.

He stole a quick kiss from your lips before bending down to smother a 7-month-old Diana who yelped in glee when Spencer began attacking her with kisses all over her face.

"She's been fussy since yesterday," you told him. "I think she missed you."

"Did you, baby? Did you miss Daddy?" Spencer cooed. "I can take her for a few while you rest. You look tired. Are you feeling okay?"

"Gee, Spence. What a way to a girl's heart."

"You know what I meant, sweetheart."

"It's fine, Spencer. I just got a headache, but it's all better now that you're here."

Spencer smiled as he kissed your free knuckles. "If it's any consolation, you're still the most heavenly creature that I've ever laid eyes upon."

A sneaky laughter rumbled past your chest. "Fine. I'll let you go just this once," you said before letting Spencer take a yawning Diana into his arms.

As Spencer carried Dee towards the couch, you noticed a bouquet of flowers lying next to the kitchen sink in the corner of your eye. You glanced at the young genius with a discreet smile before aptly transferring the flowers into a vase.

"These are pretty," you commented, joining your family in the living room. You put the vase in the middle of the coffee table amidst the books and various baby clutters before dropping yourself against Spencer's side.

"They're your favorites."

"I know. As usual." You smiled affectionately. "And daisies. You've never bought me daisies before."

Spencer's eyes gleamed. "I bought the daisies for Dee."

"Oh?"

"I think daisies are gonna be her favorite."

"You do, huh?"

"One hundred percent."

Spencer's eyes looked up from Diana to you then, whose own gaze had been kept intently on your husband and daughter. Darkness embellished the area underneath your eyes, and Spencer couldn't help but count the lines of fatigue that seemed to have multiplied on the contours of your face. Even then, Spencer thought you had never looked more stunning than you did at that moment; as his wife, the mother of his child, and the woman who owned the sole reign of his heart.

Confusion wandered into your eyes when you noticed Spencer's stubborn stare. A surprised squawk escaped your lips as Spencer unexpectedly captured them in a rather long kiss. When he pulled back, Spencer looked the very image of a man who was drunk on love.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Spencer confessed as he squeezed your hand twice in his palm.

"Spencer, what's going on with you?"

"Nothing. I just--" he paused for a chuckle, seemingly trying to find the right words to say before he could continue, "--I owe my life to you, sweetheart. For all of the times you have pulled me out of the darkness, to the light you've brought into my life. You and Dee are the reason I keep on breathing. Without the two of you, I'm nothing."

"Spencer," you breathed out. "Where did all of this come from?"

"I don't know." He shook his head. "I just wanted you to know how grateful I am to have you in my life and that you've brought Dee into ours. Everything worth fighting for about me is because of you."

The telltale signs of tears began to cast a shadow over your eyes. You pressed your hand to Spencer's cheek, feeling the rugged sensation of his newly shaved stubble stroking your skin. Spencer melted into the warmth of your touch.

"You're giving me far too much credit here, Spencer," you whispered. "Everything you are has always been your own doing rather than mine. All I ever did was cheer you on from the sideline. You would still have become the person that you are today even if I weren't in your life."

Spencer physically shuddered at your last statement. "Don't say that. I can't even begin to imagine a life without you in it."

"Well, even if such day does come, when I won't be a part of your life anymore, I know you're gonna be just fine. Because you'll have Dee with you--" you stroked Diana's head lovingly, "--and I know that the two of you will give each other enough love and strength that you won't even notice I'm not around anymore."

The frown on Spencer's face deepened.

"You're not allowed to leave me. Ever," Spencer decided childishly.

"Fine. I won't. But you have to remember--" you brought your palm towards Spencer's chest, feeling each rhythmic thrum of his heart which seemed to flutter ever so slightly underneath your fingers, "--I'll be right here if you need me. Always."

Spencer's own hand landed on top of your hand, entwining your fingers together without ever tearing his fierce gaze away from yours.

"Always."

The sun was shining down in flimsy rays when Spencer and Dee finally walked past the familiar gate. Glimmers of gold sneaked past the reddish leaves on branches before falling upon the ground.

Next to him, Diana was humming a melody that Spencer recognized from one of your specially curated playlists. Her little hands struggled to carry the gigantic bouquet that she couldn't wait to present to you. It didn't matter that the bouquet itself was nearly as tall as she was, Diana still refused to let Spencer assist her.

"I wanna give Mommy the flowers myself," she had told Spencer in a manner that reminded him too much of your own stubbornness.

After a couple more minutes of walking, Spencer's reverie was soon broken by the excited squeal coming from the little girl beside him.

"Mommy! Mommy!"

Diana dashed into a sprint before words of warning could fall from Spencer's lips. He watched intensely as Diana's little feet moved upon the ocean of fallen leaves on the ground. Her tight grip around the bouquet never wavered even when she ran up the grassed hill, all the way towards the destination in her mind.

All the way towards the headstone with your name written on it.

When Spencer finally got there, Diana was kneeling next to your grave with panting breaths, but the smile stretched on her lips was the biggest one that Spencer had ever seen.

"Hi, Mommy. I'm back with Daddy," Diana announced. "Daddy, go say hi to Mommy."

"Hello, my love." Spencer smiled before taking a seat next to his daughter.

"We brought flowers, Mommy! They're your favorites. I added daisies to make them prettier." Diana beamed before putting the bouquet against your headstone. "You're not gonna believe what happened in class yesterday!"

As Diana animatedly began to recount the funny incident in her classroom--somehow involving a boy named Patrick and a cup of slushie--Spencer watched over her with a permanent smile on his lips. The little girl loved to talk--a trait she obviously acquired from both of her parents--and Spencer knew just how much you used to adore listening to Dee's rambling at any time of day.

It must have been at least ten minutes later when Diana's story eventually whirled to an end. Her attention instantly shifted to the family who was paying their own respect just two headstones over, a small squeak of puppy tumbled from Dee's lips before she dashed towards the boy with a golden retriever pup beside his legs.

Spencer shook his head affectionately at his daughter's antics.

"I know we were just here a couple of weeks ago, but Dee wanted to tell you about the slushie incident herself," he said. "And, well, I can never deny the chance to visit you, love."

A loud laughter boomed a few feet away. Spencer watched as Diana ran around jubilantly with the little boy and his dog. The boy's father waved at Spencer from the distance, which he replied with an acknowledging nod.

"She's getting so big, sweetheart. Sometimes, I just wanna stop time and keep her as my little girl forever. I wish you were around to see how much she's grown." Spencer smiled ruefully. "I can't believe that it's been more than a year since you were gone."

Spencer thought back to the last few moments you spent on this earth. How just a few months prior, the doctor had advised you to stop the treatment and take a rest at home instead.

The chemo isn't working, was what the doctor was really saying. You should be spending as much time as you can with your family.

So, that was exactly what you ended up doing.

Spencer had quit his job at the FBI shortly after you were diagnosed, opting to take a full-time job of teaching where the hours were more humane and reasonable. The day you were discharged from the hospital, Spencer made a vow to himself to make every day as memorable as he could, and he was keeping true to it. Those last few months were filled with countless road trips, an unforgettable weekend at Disneyland, and visits to various museums across the states. Spencer made sure that each day was charged with love and laughter, a perfect day culminated by an equally perfect night, with you falling asleep in the safety of his arms.

Until one morning, when Spencer woke up to your cold and lifeless body lying by his side.

"Do you remember what you told me once? About how Dee and I would never notice you were gone because we would have each other?" Spencer recalled. "You were wrong about that, sweetheart. Your absence is the first thing I notice every time I start my day. The moment I open my eyes, I notice that you aren't lying next to me on the bed like you're supposed to be. I notice the cold imprints on the sheets where your warmth used to linger. I notice you in every corner of our home, but most importantly, I notice you in Dee."

Spencer glanced at his little girl, playing and running around a pile of fallen leaves with her newfound friend and his pet dog. His heart floundered at the scene.

"Everyone keeps saying that she's an exact copy of me, but I see glimpses of you in her more and more every single day," Spencer admitted. "She's the only anchor I have left now, my love. Without her, I'm lost. I try constantly, with whatever strength still resides in me, to give her everything she would ever need. Shower her with every ounce of love I have left in my heart."

A lone tear cascaded down Spencer's cheek. He quickly erased it away with a wry chuckle.

"What I would do to have a minute with you again, my love. I hope you know I'd give my heart and soul to have those extra sixty seconds just to stare at your beautiful face. To hold you in my arms one last time. I try my best to fill the void that you left for Dee's sake. Some days are difficult, and I keep thinking about how much better it would be--how much better off she would be--if it were you here with her instead of me. I'd trade places with you if I could. I fear that all of me would never be enough for her, because she needs you. We both do."

Spencer inhaled a breath, forcing the imminent wave of tears from breaking the dam he had masterfully crafted since the moment you were gone. He promised a long time ago never to allow the grief to consume him.

He still had his daughter to think about.

"I'm beginning to think people are wrong when they say time makes everything better. The pain never lessens. It just becomes bearable with time. Dee makes it bearable," Spencer confessed. "I can only hope I'm doing the same for her."

"Daddy! Daddy!"

Spencer hurriedly wiped away any sign of tears from his face before he caught Diana in his arms. Her innocent laughter was a balm to the gaping wound in his chest, and Spencer allowed himself to bask in the bliss that his little girl brought to his life.

"What is it, Pumpkin?"

"Look what Brian's mom gave me!"

Spencer looked at her tiny hand to see a plastic daisy ring gracing one of her fingers. He looked up towards the family in the distance, mouthing a thank you to the mother who waved him off with a smile.

"It's very pretty, Dee."

"Like me?"

The young dad chuckled. "Yes, very much like you."

"Like Mommy, too?"

Spencer's smile softened. "Very much like Mommy, too. Yes."

The exhilarated smile Diana rewarded him could probably light up the entire state of Virginia at night.

Five minutes later, Spencer found himself bidding you a goodbye, with Diana promising to visit again very soon to give you an update over the slushie incident that supposedly got Patrick in a lot of trouble at school. The air was getting even chillier as the two walked the path they had taken after arriving at the cemetery. Spencer tugged Diana closer to his side once he saw the familiar gate lurking a few feet ahead, keeping her safe while simultaneously seeking her warmth.

"Daddy?" Dee's voice arose shyly once the pair had reached the main street.

"Yes, Pumpkin?"

"I miss Mommy," she admitted quietly.

Spencer's fingers instinctively tightened for a split second around his daughter's hand. "I know you do, Pumpkin. You just need to remember, even if she's not physically with us anymore, that she's always watching over you and keeping you safe."

Diana nodded her head understandingly. "Do you miss her, too, Daddy?"

"Every day, Dee." Spencer smiled, glancing back towards the gate of the cemetery behind him. "Every single day."

[bunny-jpeg]

🎀 can i get a pithivier and angel food cake and croissant nanaimo bars (but also a pull-apart bread bc i’m a softy) with a side of a martini and an early grey 🤭 for daniel ricciardo pretty please ❤️❤️

bakery menu

want to submit an order? then check out the menu! there is all kinds of things on there! thank you in advance and enjoy! as for this lovely anon, thank you so much for the order! i hope you love what i've come up with! with the cherry on top of the pull-apart bread! AND the mafia au, this was a lovely order to write. i hope it's amazing! so yes! enjoy!!

pithivier ("if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you.") + angel food cake ("if he fucks with me again, i'm finishing inside of you.") + croissants ("i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me.") + nanaimo bars ("who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it.") + pull-apart bread ("i love you") + martini (mafia au) + earl grey tea (big cock) served by daniel ricciardo (formula one)!!

cw: smut/pwp, mafia au, big cock!daniel, wolff!reader, mafia boss!daniel, mafia boss daughter!reader, affection

the wolf and her moon. the smiling moon that led her from the pack and into the arms of one of the scariest men on the continent. in the glimmering lights of monaco, miss wolff spent her evenings with mister ricciardo, the head of a prominent mafia family.

you were not scared of that life, your adoring father was toto wolff. you had been surrounded by the life for as long as you could remember. you remembered being driven to school by men in dark suits. you remembered going on dates as a teen and seeing the same men in shady corners near where you were. even now as an adult the cloak of your father felt close.

which was why it took a fair bit to get close to daniel ricciardo.

you had been with daniel for a few months now. there was something about him that simply pulled you in. you knew he was a dangerous man, you once spent a night in france with him and mapped out his tattoos with your lips.

he treated you like you were capable, that you weren't something to be protected. even though he did have a habit of keeping a hand on your lower back and opening doors for you. you've only ever once paid for a meal and he loved when you wore the things he bought for you.

currently you were in his home, you just had dinner and were enjoying each other's company. daniel's thick fingers were in your hair as you laid out next to him. the lights were low and you both weren't pay attention to the movie he had put on. you knew it was a marvel movie, but you stopped paying attention to them ages ago.

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." daniel said out loud.

you sighed and pressed yourself further against him and looked up at him, "my father doesn't matter right now. he's off doing whatever tonight."

he rubbed the back of your head and said jokingly, "well you know, if he fucks with me or the family again, i'm finishing inside of you." then kissed you on the face.

you pulled away a little, "i've been hearing all about this power vacuum. should i be worried that you'll do something to my father."

daniel pulled you in once more and peppered your face with kisses, "never. after all, he'll eventually be my father-in-law." and watched you duck your head in embarrassment. he laughed, "i want the satisfaction of him walking you down the aisle.

you rolled your eyes and kissed him all over the face, "i just want both of you safe." you got into his lap and held onto his face. the kiss deepened with his strong arms around you.

when he pulled away he said, "i promise." then pulled you onto your back and kissed you once more, "i can't have my future wife without her husband." he chuckled and stroked your face.

you melted every time he called you that. you sometimes wondered if he was already picking out rings and if you were brought up in backroom conversations between him and your father.

he peppered kissed along your jaw and felt a pull of affection towards you, "i love you."

you giggled and stared up at him, you felt a blush in your cheeks. you felt a thump in your chest and love that dripped into your soul. you joked, "for a mafia boss, you're a big softie."

he rolled his eyes, "what do you want me to say? if you don't behave, i'll let the boys take care of you? never. i love you too much." then kissed at you softly.

you melted a little more, honey in your soul, "you big sap!" you slapped his chest playfully and he pulled you in for a massive kiss.

"yeah, but you're my pretty girl." he want in for another kiss and said slyly, ""who's my pretty girl? c'mon say it."

you burst into laughter and squirmed under him. he soon had the bottom of your tank top off over your head and his hands on your breasts.

"c'mon, beautiful. who is my pretty girl? who is the girl who lights me alive and fills me full of love." he kissed at your face with his hands on your breasts. he palmed at the flesh and you arched your back.

you moaned and he started to work on getting your sweatpants off. in all fairness they originally belonged to him, but you told him that women's sweatpants sucked. "if i'm wearing sweatpants, i don't wanna look sexy!" but he thought you looked sexy in his pair.

you reached out for him and placed your palms across his covered chest. he was in a white tank top and similar grey sweats (the other pair he had to buy). you could see the thin gold chair he wore.

it was a hot sight, especially as he got the tank top off and exposed his toned chest to you. you exhaled deeply through you nose and said, "fuck you're hot. my entire life i thought that the mafia were a bunch of busted nose with a fat lip goons who enjoyed beating the shit out of random people." that was what your father told you about men who worked for the families as a means to steer you away from them. he wanted you to be with a man with a white collar job.

"well." daniel chuckled as he rubbed his clothed cock up against your panties, "you've seen me with a fat lip, two broken noses and a broken foot."

"it wasn't broken per say. you did have to get those stitches."

daniel chuckled, "damn verstappen, dropping that wine bottle on it." he got himself out of his briefs and you out of your panties. he admired the sight of your sweet cunt exposed in the soft lighting of the bedroom.

you swallowed at the sight of his cock out of his underwear. daniel had a big cock, you remember the first time you saw it and your eyes got wide. it still left a shiver through it you even now, but you were a little more accustomed to its size.

daniel got closer to you, his chest against yours as he took you by the hips. with a little work, he sank his cock into you. you let out a sweet moan and daniel felt a flash of heat in his chest.

"mmm, beautiful."

you smiled up at him and reached for his face. you pulled him in to a soft kiss and ran your fingers across his chest. his heartbeat was home.

your arms wrapped around him as he thrusted up into you. the two of you moved together, daniel's gaze lingered on you. from your beautiful eyes to your soft lips. the shape of your face and any little 'imperfections' across your skin. he thought it was all beautiful, he tried not to leer at your breasts. you were a person, not meat for him to ogle at.

you held onto him as he continued to move. you could felt lustful flames lick at you core. your back arched a little when his cock prodded up against some of your softest areas.

daniel was a generous lover, he loved the feeling of you. his kisses lingered, wet against your face and neck. you two were wound up into one another as he moved his hips against yours.

from two mafia families, put together. fitting together like puzzle pieces. if anyone from either of your family saw this sexual display, heads would roll.

but you and daniel didn't care. you wanted one another in a way that left you both feeling lot. it wasn't just a sexual heat, but something deeper. something that made you yearn for the other man.

when you looked at him, you felt special. you were a special girl in many ways, not only because of your father's name. you were smart, funny, had friends, and overall were a delight to be about. you had hobbies and aspirations. you were one of a kind, but when daniel looked at you. it sent it all into overdrive, to daniel you were the most important thing on this earth.

you knew with enough convincing, you two could leave the mafia life behind together. run off to the mountains of switzerland and have three children.

daniel kissed you once more, they were hot and heavy as your hands explored one another. you could almost feel your lover's heartbeat.

when he pulled away, he rested his forehead against yours, "one day i'm going to marry you. and i can't wait. you're going to make a beautiful wife for me."

"what about-"

"it'll work out." he pulled his face a little bit and he winked at you. he plants his hands on either side of you and continued to thrust up into you.

you clutched onto his shoulders and he moved faster. you felt the flush of heat through your chest at the feeling and sight of your beloved. this was where you wanted to be. with daniel.

daniel continued to move against you. he shifted your hips and got your knees to your head. he thrusted against you from the perfect angle. a proper mating press for a proper girl.

it only heightened the pleasure, to have you lover hit all the right spots. you moaned and clutched onto the back of your knees as he moved against you. he kissed you once more before you came around his cock. your pretty nails dug into your flesh as he moved against you. the intensity of it made daniel finish as well.

his cum shot into the furthest parts of you as he continued to rock against you. his pulse shot through the roof and sweat made his back shiny. the rush was like a shock to his system. he held you in his arms and rolled to the side.

you laid there naked, daniel's arms around you and eventually your face was in his chest. you felt the after feelings of pleasure and laid tangled up in the man you loved.

he kissed the side of your head and you felt warm. loved.

-

"sonnenschein." your father greeted you in his home office a few days later. you stepped into the room and closed the door behind you. your father gestured to the chair across from him.

you sat gently across from him, straightened your skirt. you then looked at your father once more and asked, "is everything okay?"

"of course. no need to worry." was a common phrase from your father. it made you give him a look and he gave a similar one in return. "you know i care for you, right?" toto said, his hands on the desk. he idly straightened out the mat under his palms. your father seemed nervous, your father was never nervous.

you shifted in your seat, "what's happening, papa." your eyebrows raised and there was a tightness in your chest.

toto sighed, eyes looked away for a moment, "things have gotten complicated in the network of all the families. there is a struggle for power. i fear something is coming and i need to protect you, sonnenschein...."

"are you sending me away?"

"no, no... you'll stay here. of course. i don't want you to feel like a pawn in these games. but, i need the biggest favor from you."

you nodded, "anything."

toto leaned back in his chair and held eye contact with you. the man who taught you how to ride a bike and a shoot a gun. who told you that dreams were only possible if the work was put into it. he had raised a confident young woman. which was why it broke his heart to say, "i need you to be in an arranged married with daniel ricciardo."

your eyes went wide and your heart skipped a beat. you put on a performance of a lifetime as you said to your father, "of course! anything for our family." <3