#i know far more about him from reading this book than i would have ever liked to know

[pit-and-the-pen]

Azriel NSFW alphabet

Literally just Azriel brain rot. Buckle in

NSFW below the cut (18+ minors don’t interact)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

I’m a firm believer that this man is the biggest cuddler after sex. He will fully wrap you in his arms and wings and just hold you close to him. He’ll give you sweet kisses on your forehead and the top of your head, humming as he does.

If anything is particularly rough (Which I am a firm believer in dom Azriel) he’ll draw you a bath and smooth out any sore muscles with his hands.

Basically this dude knows what it’s like to be left alone and would rather die than make you feel like that after being intimate

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

On him, like any good Iilyrian baby, it’s his wings. Besides the normal ego the wings normally come with, he’s able to look at them and see all the good they’ve done. Proof of how far he’s come in life. He’d learn how to fly, become one of the top Iilyrian warriors and had an amazing family. Looking at his wings, the same wings he shares with his brothers, he can’t help but feel his pride stir.

On you, everyone always goes back and forth on boobs or ass but are missing the best option. Thighs. Azriel adores your thighs. Something about the soft feeling of them under his hands instantly comforts him. And not only in a sexual way (although he has pushed your thighs tighter around his head on multiple occasions) but comforting like a cat kneading on a blanket. He loves using them as a pillow, you playing with his hair as you talk about your different days or you both reading a book. He loves your thighs no matter the size, the stretch marks, he loves every inch of them

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

I feel like all the fae males cum a ton. Probably left over from centuries of breeding being the most important thing, but Azriel takes the cake. For sake of not having to find something to clean up the sheer amount, he’s almost always coming inside of you. And even then it’s still enough that it runs out of you, something that normally is enough to make you both want round two.

I also feel like if he’s in one of his more dominant moods that once he does cum inside you he’ll use his finger to push it back in, mouth parted as he sees just the sheer amount that pools onto the sheets

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

I feel like you and Azriel would be pretty open with each other. He doesn’t want to hide things from you and he wouldn’t want you too either

That being said, I do think he likes you being dominant more than he would ever let you know. The way the tone of your voice drops slightly, the way you tease him is enough to drive him crazy. You always seem to know when he needs it too. There's not one particular thing he could point out to say he loved but you doming him is something he enjoys a lot when it happens.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

This man is quiet but that doesn’t mean that he hasn’t had plenty of experience. I mean, look at this man. Tell me you wouldn’t have to fight off both males and females when the mating bond first snapped. This man fully knows what he’s doing and I firmly believe his spymaster skills make him perfect at learning exactly what you need to make you into a complete whining mess.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He loves when you ride him. Something about feeling your thighs spread out on top of him and having full access to your chest and throat just does something for him.

I also live and die by Azriel having a breeding kink so I think he would love having you in a mating press. Your legs perched up on his shoulders as he presses so deep into you you can’t do anything but scream his name. He would still be free to pepper kisses all over your neck and face and he can feel how deep his cum is pumped into you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? Are they humorous? etc.)

He is pretty serious overall. It’s that dom persona but sometimes when you try a new position or play and something twists the way it's not supposed to or your bodies just make the noises bodies do, you’re both laughing and giggling. On slower nights you two can make jokes but overall it’s pretty serious because the love you two have for each other runs so deeply.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? Does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

I think he keeps it trimmed. He defo has a happy trail that you love to kiss down. But he doesn’t really care about what’s going on down there, especially when it comes to you. As long as he can get between your legs, he doesn’t care how much or how little hair you have. And I think his hair is a little lighter but not by much.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Azriel can be tooth rotting sweet when he wants to be. I’m talking rose petals and candles, full body massage. He would pull out all the stops when it comes to spoiling you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

When he’s away on missions he would try. Some errant thought of you would cross his mind and since he has a hard time sleeping on missions, he would try to rub one out but it never feels the same so he doesn’t really bother with it. He has you and you’re more than happy to help him whenever he has one of his random moments of need rushing through him.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Restrains- He loves holding your wrists down, whether it’s with his own hands wrapped around your wrists pinned above you heads, or his shadows holding down all of your limbs as he absolutely worships your body, something about seeing you desperately trying to reach out and touch him makes him go feral.

Wing Play- At first you both were very tentative for you to touch his wings. He’s so proud of them and despite the fact that you’re mates, it felt too intimate. But after much begging on his part, you finally did and gods. His usual perfect timing was fully broken the first time. He came in his pants like a teenager and spent the rest of the night absolutely worshiping you. From then on, if you ever wanted to have him on his knees, you would just run a nail softly along the membranes and he would be a whimpering mess for you.

Brat Tamer- This male would love it when you talk back to him. The way you would puff up your chest, staring up at him trying your best to be intimidating. He would just coo at you and whisper something about keeping up that attitude later in the bedroom. And of course the moment the door closed to your shared bedroom, you would be apologizing for your words. Maybe if he’s feeling nice, he’ll let you off but if he’s not. You would definitely be limping around the next day.

Breeding kink- He would love to fill you up. As much as he adores seeing his cum on various parts of your body. Theres nothing he loves more than seeing it drip out of you, fucking it back into you with his fingers or his tongue.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He prefers your bedroom truthfully. The two of you have made it so comfortable, bits and pieces of the both of you filled the space. The way your smell mixed with his lingers around puts him instantly at ease.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

For real, you could just look at this man and he would be hard as a rock. Seeing you sparing with Cassian would also be a sure fire way to get him going. Or if you are trying to get him really riled up, placing your hand on someones arm as you’re talking to them would have him literally picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder to remind you exactly who you belong to.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No temperature play of any kind, no ice or fire. Fire/wax for obvious reasons but cold/ ice because it reminds him of the winters at the war camp and those memories are not something he wants to imagine when he’s having sex.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

This man will eat you out like he has been stranded in the desert for a hundred years. He cannot get enough of you. He’ll hold down your hips, shadows holding your arms down. Absolute filthy noises would be spilling out of his mouth as he lapped you up. You would literally have to pull him away by his hair and his face would be covered in your arousal. He could go down on you for hours if you would let him and he would still probably whine as you pulled him away.

That being said, this man does love a good blow job. I think he would have two moods. One where he’s just letting you explore, tongue lapping at him and he’d let you set your own pace. Just taking everything you would give him. Now. On nights where you have done nothing but tease him. Strap in because this man will (consensually) push you down to your knees with your hands tied behind you back and use your throat like it was a damn fleshlight. He would keep going until spit was trailing down your chin, eyes glassy with tears. When he finally did cum he would make you hold it on your tongue before telling you to swallow, sticking out your tongue afterwards to show him that you were a good girl and listened to him.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This man is the best of both worlds. Depending on both of your moods it can be soft and slow or wall shakingly rough. Sometimes he’ll being going slow and you’ll push his hips to make him pound into you and the little bit of control he’ll have snaps and before you know it, he’s flipping you over and fucking you hard enough to have you seeing stars. But on nights when both of you need to show your love to each other, he’s simply just grinding into you. Hitting that perfect spot inside of you and I love you’s are spilling past both of your lips unhurried.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not totally against them. When the mating bond first snapped all you had to do was look at him the right way and he was taking you against the nearest surface. More than once during trips to the court of nightmares you two were found tucked away into corners, both in various states of undress. His shadows were particularly helpful during these moments because he could wrap you in them and make sure no one saw that the front of your dress was pulled down or how your skirt was hiked up to your waist. But for the most part, he likes taking his time with you. He wants the time to take you apart piece by piece and have you screaming and shaking beneath him.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment? Do they take risks? etc.)

SJM told us this man was a freak and I firmly believe it. There’s very few things that he isn’t willing to try at least once. If he thinks it will make you happy then he’s game.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

This man could go all night if you would let him. Your stamina would give out long before he would. And he’s almost always making sure that you get off at least once but we all know there would be many many more before he would even think about his own release.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

I have no idea what toys exist in this world but lets pretend the ones that exist in Crescent City are available. I think he would for sure have a vibrator. More than once he has had you tied up in your bed, vibrator strapped to your thigh and just stood at the other end of the room. You would be half delirious with the amount of orgasms the toy had pulled from you before he turned it off with a smirk at how totally fucked out you were.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is the biggest tease. He knows how much you love his muscles so he would just walk around the house shirtless. Commenting on how your eyes followed him like he was a snack you wanted to devour. He would tease you for that glazed look in your eyes and how your pupils would dilate. If anyone was ever around when this happened you would blush as he slowly raised a hand to shut your slightly open jaw. Laughing softly as everyone else started to slowly leave the room because they knew what was about to happen.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Listen. For how quiet this man is around the inner circle, he would be moaning and panting into your ear. His dirty talk alone is enough to reduce you to a shaking mess. But when he’s pounding into you he’ll be cursing and roaring against you. More than once you’ve had someone pounding on the door because of how loud the two of you were being. He would only make it a point to be even louder when that did happen and when the two of you finally crawled out of your bedroom, the house would be empty.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Azriel was terrified the first time you two had sex. It’s no secret that he’s insecure when it comes to his hands and he was afraid that you would be wary to have him finger you but that fear was quickly dismissed when you begged for his fingers. Now whenever he seems to get too far into his head, all you have to do is slip one of his giant fingers into your mouth and he would snap out whatever funk he was in and he would go absolutely feral. You made the mistake of doing it at dinner with the rest of the inner circle once and everyone just stared at you two with wide eyes as Azriel just sat back further into his chair, legs spreading as he smirked with pure male satisfaction.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Our shadowslinger is hung. I think he’s at least 8 inches but he’s also thick. Like if you wrap your hand around him, your fingers just barely touch. The illyrian joke about wings is definitely true and he’s the biggest of the three males. The rest of the girls nearly fell out of their chairs when they held their hands out trying to get you to spill just how big he was. All three sisters and Mor are just sitting there like 🫸 🫷“What do you mean , keep going??? Girl are you okay???”

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mother. This man’s sex drive is ridiculous. Despite having many partners over the years, there was a lot of time between then and he never let them be truly intimate, opting for quick fucks that were satisfying on the surface level for sure but he desperately yearned for real intimacy. So once he found you he couldn’t get enough of you and you him.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He’ll always wait for you to fall asleep. And you normally fall asleep pretty quickly after he’s rung orgasm after orgasm out of you. Some nights we would just stare at you as you slept soundly besides him, wondering how he got so lucky to have you next to him.

#acomaf #acosf #acotar fanfiction #azriel acotar #acotar #acowar #azriel smut #azriel nswf #this is just self indulgent at this point #i need him biblically #i need him in a way that is concerning to feminism #azriel shadowsinger smut #azriel x reader #azriel spymaster #azriel

[lastlymatt]

Yeah tv!Alex is so different and honestly I think in a good way!

Book!Alex was always like, 'ugh I hate working for MI6, why do they keep dragging me in, I just want a normal life, I don't care that much about a random person in danger'.

Tv!Alex is like 'I don't care about skipping school to go save the world because I care that people are going to get hurt and the department is doing jack shit so I feel a responsibility to do the right thing'.

It's very different and I think TV!Alex has a lot more compassion and care in him and wants to help others and would sacrifice himself for the greater good. He is his father's son, and I think it makes a lot of sense that way, and I like how morally strong he is in the show, and a lot more mature.

Not that I dislike book!Alex, of course I love him, but he's definitely more of a 'kid', which while accurate to his age, I do like watching a more adult and mature Alex. (tbf though I haven't read the new books yet so idk if his characterization has changed)

I hope we do get a post-uni show with the same crew and we get to see Adult!Alex working for the department.

While you're absolutely right about how book!Alex is more of a 'kid' and very reluctant to go on whatever mission of the week, TV!Alex feels far more naive and innocent than his book counterpart despite being older.

Because book!Alex does come through when the threat is real. He wants to protect people and the world, just not when he's being blackmailed into it. He cares enough that he willingly puts himself in danger for a boy he barely knows in Ark Angel without anyone prompting him to.

A lot of the time, he saves people or goes after villains because he knows that MI6 is useless. They demonstrated that over and over again to him while TV!Alex hunts them down to get them to do something before being smacked in the face with the reality of the Department.

I will say he is absolutely more stubborn about going back to school and staying 'normal' than TV!Alex, but again, that is because MI6 keeps pulling him back.

TV!Alex gets blackmailed by Blunt once. A car doesn't show up in front of his house or school every other week, so he can be shipped all over the world to almost die for some goal he barely comprehends. He isn't forced into dangerous fabricated situations where he has to turn to MI6 for help in exchange for doing their dirty work.

TV!Alex instead goes through one harrowing experience and is then told to forget it ever happened. He isn't beaten down and almost murdered every other Tuesday, so of course, he has a stronger hold on his morals but he isn't the mature one here.

In fact, he seems incredibly naive when he thinks he can waltz into a criminal organisation, get his revenge on the Department, and go back home as if nothing happened.

Book!Alex tells Scorpia up front that he could never be a killer, but he still participates in all the lessons like he's told to and seems to have a better understanding of his situation despite not having both Nile and Yassen laying it out clearly for him.

I think book!Alex is also far more willing to join up with Scorpia because of how awful MI6 is to him compared to TV!Alex's Department. He also goes into his first conversation with Rothman, just wanting to know more about his father. Of course, the fourteen-year-old idiot would go with the people who are "honest" with him and treat him with more respect (and I say this as someone who cannot read anything where Alex stays with Scorpia)

TV!Alex goes in with the idea that he can somehow destroy Scorpia, but he gets manipulated from the moment he contacts them. He runs on the grief and need for revenge that Scorpia injects him with almost the entire time he's there.

They're both their fathers' sons, but their arcs are very different. One is very drawn out, and the other is cut short with a happy ending.

(This is very personal speculation, but I think that if the TV series had continued and Alex's family had been "killed" just like Jack in Scorpia Rising, then Alex would've also absolutely shot someone)

So yeah... very different characters with different arcs. The comparison gets a bit murkier because of the different mediums, but I hope I got my point across.

I'm very curious what they would do with an adult!Alex because they'd have to come up with completely new material for that, and it would remove one of the main aspects of Alex Rider that I enjoy, namely that he's a kid who shouldn't be there.

Personally, I just want an adaptation of Russian Roulette.

#sorry for the ramble #i hope you don't mind #but yeah I have thoughts about this #alex rider #ask

[luveline]

hi! i just remembered a scene from friends where chandler says to monica it's ok she's high maintenance cause he likes maintaining her and i think this is soooo spencer and bombshell!reader coded. you're ok with writing this as a request? love u jadey

ty (ily)!! fem!reader

Spencer’s feet ache dully with each step he takes, but you have your hand in his, and you’re pulling him along with a smile. Your smile could cure anything, he thinks stupidly. It’s completely outside of his beliefs, goes against every book on medicine he’s ever read. 

“Why are you frowning?” you ask, swinging his hand as you turn the corner together. 

“I’m not.” 

You step closer, arm stuck to his arm, nearly one body walking together against the summer breeze. “You’re frowning, Spence. You have a very obvious pout. It is so so cute.” You lean in to kiss him quickly, his heart turning to a pitter-patter under his ribs. 

“I’m tired,” he explains, not wanting you to think his bad mood has anything to do with you. 

“You’ve had a long day, that’s why. When we get back to your place I’ll give you an incredible foot massage and everything will be okay again.” 

“I don’t want a foot massage. My feet don’t even hurt,” he lies.

“Don’t bother.” You untangle your fingers from his and wave him away. “I know all your tells, baby boy,” —he laughs through a wrinkled nose— “nothing gets past me.” 

“Why’d you choose a dry cleaners so far from your apartment?” he asks. You could’ve picked the one beside work, which has a yellow pages worth of fantastic reviews. The one second closest to his place is new but raved about at length. This dry cleaners is nearly twenty-five blocks away.

“They do things exactly how I like it, I guess. I never have to worry about it when I give them my best clothes, and it’s kind of expensive if they were to accidentally ruin something, right?” You have expensive taste; you like things sturdy, fitted, and fashionable. 

“Do you think I should get someone to do my laundry?” he asks. 

“You can afford it. But maybe not. There’s nothing wrong with your own washing machine and a steamer.” You side eye him carefully. “Maybe I’m over the top.” 

“You’re high maintenance,” he agrees. “Is it expensive, getting your clothes dry cleaned all the time? I could pay for that.” 

“What? Why would you pay for it?” 

“‘Cos we’re together?” He’s more worried than dry about it. “I’d like to pay for your manicures and your hair, too, but I didn’t think you’d let me.”

“And I won’t… s’kind of nice you want to though. Really nice, um.” You’re blinking funny. “I think that’s more of a husband thing. You really want to pay for me to get manicures?” 

Spencer pays for lots of your stuff because he loves you. Good food mostly, but treats, clothes, anything he might think you’re interested in, actually. He likes to spoil you. You tend to spoil him back, if not with money then affection. “I like maintaining you.” 

You curl your arm through his. “That’s a funny way to say it.” 

He laughs at your obvious delight. “I like taking care of you,” he admits. “You like being high maintenance, it makes you happy, and I like making you happy.” 

“Thank you very much,” you say, softer now as your hand works up his neck and you turn his face to you, the sidewalk and the streetlines melting away under your warm touch. “You make me happier than you know.” 

His cheeks turn pink. He doesn’t need to see himself to confirm. It’s a high statistical probability. 

“Kiss?” you ask, voice still soft. 

Spencer walks you back nearer to the side of a building and out of the way, his hands at your neck and waist as he leans down just a touch to close your gap. He acts selfishly, perhaps, taking your hand from his face in order to hold yours in both of his without anything in the way of it. He kisses, he breathes you in, his head tilting more heavily to the side as the kiss lengthens, lingers. You’re like a flower in his hand, blooming slowly under the effects of a little heat. 

“What if you pay for my dry cleaning,” you begin, a smile evident in your voice though Spencer keeps his eyes closed. Tracing the hill of your cheek with his fingers just a moment longer. “And I pay for yours?” 

Spencer thumbs along your jaw. “I don’t want anything from you, just you.” 

“Well, what if I treat us to some Indian takeout tonight?” you ask. “Would you eat that? Or am I enough to sustain you, my love?” 

He could enjoy being taken care of in turn, he thinks. 

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

[fangswbenefits]

Patience

Summary: You are too eager to ride Astarion, and he proposes a solution to your impatience. After all, experience is the best teacher and impatience its fiercest enemy.

Pairing: Astarion x female!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Inexperienced Tav. Thigh riding. Edging. Sexual frustration. Precum. Handjob. Cum. Muffled moans.

Word count: 2.4k

“Hello.”

Astarion’s eyes lifted from the pages of the dusty book in his hand, carefully following your every move as you dropped the flap of his tent and secured the strings in place.

The universal sign for ‘do not disturb’.

A faint knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

“Hello, darling,” he said, straightening his back as he sat cross-legged on the carpeted floor.

You dropped next to him on both knees, eyeing the book in his hand. “What are you reading?”

His smile grew wider, slightly entertained by your evident lack of self-awareness. 

For all intents and purposes, Astarion could read right through your innocent question.

After all, you were by far his favourite book to indulge in, and – quite frankly – the most alluring.

“Oh, something regarding the political scene of Waterdeep,” he mused, feigning boredom as he snapped the book close. “Gale outdid himself by carrying this tedious literary work around, though it is very much on brand for him.”

You nodded, clasping both your thighs and biting your lip. “Sounds interesting.”

Except you weren’t at all interested in it, were you? Your avidity was rooted in something else entirely.

And he had every intention of indulging you, his resolve fueled by the hardly noticeable way you fidgeted under his stare.

“Dropped by for a goodnight kiss, did you?”

The question startled you, and he inwardly chuckled from anticipation.

“Yes… I suppose so,” you whispered, your eyes dropping to his lips.

To the untrained eye, one might mistake your words for uncertainty.

But Astarion knew you well.

Too well.

Your body language never failed to provide all the information he sought and it told him more about your intentions than words ever could.

Forcing a dramatic sigh, he set the book aside and patted his thigh. “Come here, darling.”

As expected, you eagerly shifted towards him across the carpeted floor before settling on his lap looking positively delighted.

He could already foresee where this was headed.

The moment his hands came to rest on your waist, you immediately looped your arms around his neck as if bracing for the inevitable. 

“Where’s my kiss, then?”

You beamed at his antics and leaned in to press her soft lips against his.

Your inexperience was palpable and clashed head-on with your eagerness, which often resulted in sloppy and clumsy kisses as you came to terms with how to handle your own lust.

Astarion didn’t mind having you take control. After all, experience is the best teacher, and he wouldn’t deny himself the fun of having you struggling with taking the lead.

Outside this tent, you called the shots.

In your shared intimacy, you trusted him to guide you through the intricacies of carnal bliss.

But he was ready to test just how much you had managed to break from your inexperience.

Your warm tongue darted across his lower lip and he immediately allowed you to slide it inside.

Sloppy.

Desperate.

Hungry.

He couldn’t hold back a chuckle as you grazed his fangs, pressing yourself hard against his crotch. The hip rolls followed soon after, and he knew it wouldn’t take long for his cock to stir in his trousers.

A breathy moan rumbled along your throat as his tongue tried to redirect yours. At this rate, you’d nip yourself on one fang. Not that he wouldn’t enjoy the sweet taste of your blood filling his mouth, but it would be far too distracting, and he might not resist having his cock inside you in record time.

The grind against him only increased in pace and pressure, and he felt one of your arms drop and snake in between you two, hand fidgeting at his waistband, tugging eagerly.

Oh, you poor, sweet thing…

You craved touching him more than he had anticipated, and the tingles of pleasure rushed down his body and worked on further teasing his cock.

A needy whimper was what ultimately broke the kiss, and your quickened breaths fanned his lips. “Let me… please…”

“What do you want?” he asked mischievously.

Your other hand slipped from his neck and clumsy fingers kept fumbling with the lacing at the front of his trousers.

Clearly, dexterity wasn’t your forte.

But he had enough for both of you.

“Please…” you repeated, pressing further against him.

Delicious tease…

“Use your words, darling.”

A growl of sheer frustration filled his ears. “Let me ride you… please.”

Crude and straight to the point. 

Delicious.

His cock immediately twitched from the sound of your sweet voice and, for a brief moment, he considered your plea.

But he figured that some reining in was in order.

Your eagerness often resulted in impatience, which often meant he'd come way faster than intended just from your teasing alone.

This time, he wanted to savour the moment.

He quickly grabbed both your wrists before you could free his hardening cock. “Not tonight, sweetheart.”

A string of whines immediately ensued as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. “No… no… no… please…”

You began grinding down against him desperately as frustration took over, and he simply couldn't suppress the deep groan that escaped his throat.

Gods above…

“I know, darling… I know,” he cooed sweetly, rubbing the back of your neck as he prayed to whatever God above to grant him the strength to withstand the delicious roll of your hips. “Be patient.”

Your whines only intensified. “Then… your fingers?” you asked as you pulled back to stare at him, hope kindled in your eyes.

The prospect was tempting. Almost too tempting to pass. He was certain you were already desperately clenching around nothing, your wetness dripping as your body readied itself to have him inside.

However…

He clicked his tongue, letting go of one wrist to graze your bottom lip with his thumb. “What about…” He paused as you parted your lips, inviting him in. “My thigh?”

“Your… thigh?” 

“Yes,” he said, now teasing your upper lip.

Your grind slowed down into a dull pace as if trying to test digest his suggestion.

“But why?”

He grinned sympathetically. “And why not? You are too eager and should exercise more patience.”

You pouted sheepishly and his cock stirred even more. “But… I’ll be quiet…”

This did make him chuckle as he could almost taste your despair. Under different circumstances, he would have adored watching your mouth part as you slid down his cock, but he wondered how long it would take for you to fully soak through his trousers.

“We both know you’d struggle to keep it down,” he said, fingers teasing the hem of your shirt before slipping under it and caressing the warm skin of your lower abdomen. “But the point is: I would very much like to have you grinding along my thigh.”

You swallowed, shivering under his touch and averting your eyes.

All flustered for him.

It always did wonders to his ego and cock.

Letting go of your other wrist, he captured your chin in his hand, wanting your eyes on him once again. “You want to ride me, don’t you? Then feel free to do so, darling.”

Your eyes widened. “Fully clothed?”

He pondered for a moment, one finger slipping under the waistband of your trousers. “Maybe taking these off?”

You didn’t need to be told twice, immediately scrambling with the lacing and nearly losing your balance in the process as you lifted your hips to pull them down your legs and kicked them to the side.

He caught a fleeting glimpse of the swell between your folds, the faint candlelight allowing him to spot your wetness glistening around it.

The pulsing pressure building up around his cock was testing his limits.

Fortunately, Astarion had no issues grounding you with his hands on your hips as you hurried to settle right above one of his thighs as he uncrossed his legs, but not quite lowering yourself all the way down.

“What about yours?”

A mischievous smile danced across his lips. “Take a seat, darling.”

You nodded and gripped his shoulders as you aligned yourself with the bulging muscle along his thigh, pressing down firmly.

A strained hiss parted your lips from the sudden friction and helped your hips find a proper rhythm to begin with.

“You’re so… mean,” you huffed in frustration, eyes locked with his. “Just let me…”

Astarion wasn’t being mean. Not in the common definition of the word, at least.

He would be mean to deny you of this altogether. 

But to deny you would be to deny himself, and he could be quite selfish at times.

Your voice immediately died down as he flexed his muscle, earning a soft mewl from you.

“You were saying…?” he teased.

The way you had to bite down hard on your lip was answer enough, and you merely shook your head as he kept on taunting you.

It wasn’t long before he felt the dampness beginning to seep through the fabric of his trousers. In truth, he wasn’t at all surprised by how soaked you already were. 

So eager…

“Can I just... touch it…” you moaned, dropping your hand to his crotch, teasing his considerable bulge. “Please…”

His hips bucked up into your palm, driven on pure instinct and he let out a blissful groan. “I’ll manage.”

He wouldn’t.

In fact, he was quite sure he was going to come embarrassingly fast in his trousers if you kept riding him like that.

But the alternative was to let you grip his cock, which would not be a wise decision either.

“Don’t be stubborn,” you said with an adorable pout.

Eventually, Astarion settled for the latter, realising he was being consumed by maddening lust and might as well fully indulge in your eagerness.

He quickly unfasted the lacing and hissed in relief as you tugged the fabric down just enough for his throbbing cock to spring free, your hips never faltering. 

The moment your warm fingers wrapped around his cock was when he realised just how wet he also was for you.

A quick glance down allowed him to spot a few droplets of precum rolling down his length before coating your fingers and knuckles.

Another groan left his lips as he struggled to keep his hips steady so as not to ruin the delicious and determined pace you had set grinding against his thigh.

He just wasn’t strong enough to resist you and your evident inexperience as you tried to match your strokes along his cock with your hip rolls.

“Gods…” he growled, eyes nearly fluttering shut.

Deciding that you might need some help, he wrapped his own hand around yours, quickly finding the sweet spot that allowed your hips to move in unison with both your hands.

A loud whimper broke from within you.

“Keep it down…” he managed to say in between needy grunts.

You nodded vaguely as your wetness began to coat the skin under his trousers, further pushing his sanity to the limit.

Oh, he was done for.

He was quite fortunate he wasn’t buried deep inside you or you’d already be filled to brim with his seed.

And against his better judgement, he decided to push himself even more by tugging at the buttons on your shirt.

He needed to see them.

He needed to see your breasts sway as you rode him.

His dexterity would always prove fruitful in the most random situations, and he was skilled enough to undo each button with just two fingers, trailing down your torso, until the thin fabric of your shirt spread apart enough for him to catch sight of one full breast undulate with each roll of your hips.

A perky nipple peeked through and he felt his cock twitch dangerously in your hand.

He pushed the fabric aside so he could have both of them swaying at a mesmerising pace.

You hurriedly slipped out of your shirt, shoving some of it in your mouth to muffle your increasing moans and whimpers.

Astarion felt his balls tighten as a warning.

He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate.

Not with you so desperately riding him and with your hand stubbornly squeezing more and more precum from him.

Astarion could slip into shadows like one else, bending silence and stealth to his will if he so wished to avoid being spotted.

But there was only so much he could hold back with you so easily ruining him.

“I’m… going…. Astarion…” you groaned, closing your eyes as you threw your head back, nearing your peak and biting down hard into your shirt.

He increased the grip of his fingers around your, yearning to mimic the tightness of being inside you.

“Not so tight…” he pleaded, too lost in his pleasure.

The fabric of his trousers that covered his thigh was absolutely drenched and he couldn’t bring himself to be bothered.

In fact, he was tiptoeing the edge of his self-restraint, now matching his hips with your own.

A sudden spasm from you alerted him that you were coming hard, your fingers squeezing so tightly around his cock he had no other choice but to bite down on one end of your shirt, feeling his fangs tearing easily through the fabric.

You kept on spasming on top of him, your breasts swaying with each contraction that tore through your body,

He managed to fuck your hand a couple of times before he reached the point of no return as his balls tightened, the rush of liquid coursing through his cock as the first spurts of cum spilled from his tip.

For a moment, his mind blanked as his own powerful contractions took over his entire body and senses.

He felt his cum seep through his own shirt as he used your trembling hand to squeeze the final drops from his cock, not bothered where they landed as long as they were out and by your hand.

You slumped into him, whimpering softly from the aftermath of reaching your peak.

It took him a few seconds to catch up with you and he quickly released your torn  shirt from his mouth.

“You owe me a new one,” you said, panting against his neck and still not letting go of his cock.

He blinked a few times as he descended from the overwhelming bliss you had thrust him into.

“Darling, you owe me.”

You chuckled faintly. “And why is that?”

He caressed the back of your hand, absentmindedly coating it in cum with his fingers. “You’ve just learned to have some patience.” 

Masterlist

#astarion #astarion x oc #astarion smut #astarion bg3 #astarion x female reader #astarion x reader #astarion x female tav #astarion x tav #astarion x f!reader #astarion x f!tav #astarion x you #astarion x female oc

[reiderwriter]

More Than Words

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female BAU!Reader

Requested: yes

Summary: After telling a white lie to your family about your relationship status, your forced to beg your coworker Spencer to pretend to be your boyfriend for a weekend wedding.

Warnings: Light smut at the end, penetrative sex, creampie, mentions of Spencer's childhood.

A/N: Thank you for the request on this one! Ever since I rewatched Season 7 and saw Spencer dancing with everyone at JJ's wedding I've been thinking non-stop about him just holding you close like that and I'm going to shut up now because 8k words of that is more than enough lmao.

You can find my masterlist here, and I just started posting all my stuff on AO3 as well, so if you prefer to read there, check it out!

Despite knowing about your brother’s impending nuptials for the last 18 months, it was in the final two-week stretch that you actually started panicking about getting the date that you’d promised them. It was one sweet little white lie that you had made that had just spiraled out of control, but you’d yet to actually manifest the secretive boyfriend who was “very real actually, mom, he’s coming to the wedding actually.”

It was that statement that had sealed your fate, and always one to wear your emotions on your face when you weren’t on a case, it wasn’t long before someone noticed your building anxiety and guilt.

“Okay, spill Y/N. You look like you just witnessed your favorite author kick a puppy or a kitten or something,” Penelope said when you dropped some files off in her room that morning, spinning around on her chair to face you as soon as she caught your reflection in her monitor.

“It’s this wedding I have to go to,” you sighed dramatically, falling into one of the other chairs in the room kept for visitors.

“Want me to help you get out of it?” Penelope offered, patting your hand comfortingly.

“I’m not sure my brother would be too pleased about that, since it’s his wedding and all. My mother would drag me down all the way from here herself if she had to.”

“Okay, so a no-show is a no-go. Then what gives, my sweet avenging angel? There has to be something serious to get you looking all glum.”

You sighed and ran a hand through your hair before straightening up and leaning into Penelope more, creating an air of secrecy.

“Promise you won’t tell?”

“Oh sweetie, if only you knew the secrets these four walls held,” she replied dramatically, pulling a laugh from you.

“Last year, I was so, I don’t know, jealous I guess, of all the attention my brother and his fiancee were getting because of the wedding, and it just felt like every time my mom called me, she would only want to talk about them because of the wedding. I felt left out, and I already live so far away anyway, so it’s hard to have that connection with people back home, so I might have told a small, tiny, inconsequential lie that now actually has consequences?” Your face flushes at the confession, and you can see Penelope trying her best not to blurt out her thoughts, intent on letting you continue.

“I told her I was seeing this guy. He’s amazing, he works in the FBI just like me, and he’s smart, and he takes me on dates to these amazing places, like museums and interesting restaurants and to book fairs. I told her he was handsome and that he looked at me like I put the stars in the night sky, and he just doesn't exist, Penelope. And now I have to disappoint my mother again by turning up to my brother's wedding without a date.”

“Oh sweetheart,” was all she said for a minute, and the sympathetic look on her face made you want to run out of there immediately.

“I know, I know, I need to tell her the truth, but I don’t want to do it at the wedding and spoil her happiness. She loves weddings.”

“And this fake boyfriend is supposed to be your plus-one?” she asked.

“My invitation read ‘To our darling sister and her mystery man,’” you groaned, wondering how you could have been so childish in the first place. You’d acted like any child on a playground would, inventing lies to make yourself seem more important and cooler.

“I think I have the perfect solution for you, angel, but you might not like it,” Penelope grinned from her chair, leaning back and playing with the pen in her hands nefariously as if she’d been waiting for this chance her whole life. You didn’t trust that look, but you had no other option, so you took a deep breath and listened to her plan.

–X–

Three days later, and you were suddenly pacing the hallways with a coffee and a croissant, poised and ready to kidnap an FBI Agent the second he passed you.

At first, you’d laughed at the suggestion she’d made, outlandish as it was. But 72 hours of reflection, and a timely phone call from your mother, and suddenly you were on board and ready to lock on to your target. You stopped pacing when you heard the elevator ding, signaling the arrival of Spencer Reid. You were thankful that his schedule was so regular and timed down to the minute that you had just enough time to ambush him in the hallway before any other member of your team noticed.

“Spencer! Here I bought you coffee and a croissant from that cafe I mentioned a while back,” you panicked, unloading the gifts into his arms quickly, taking him off guard, before checking left and right before pushing him into the nearest empty room and shutting it behind you.

“Good morning to you, too, Y/N. Is there a reason we’re in a closet right now?” he asked, looking down at you with knitted eyebrows.

“Yes,” you gumped, afraid to say anymore.

“Are you going to tell me what the reason is?”

“I need you to be my boyfriend for a weekend,” you finally blurted out.

“You need me to… Just for a weekend?” He looked confused, and you felt your cheeks flame up, as you tried your best to explain the situation for him.

“My brother is getting married in LA this weekend, and I need a date. I told my mom last year that I was in a relationship with a really great guy who also works for the FBI.”

“Oh. So, you broke up with him and don’t want to tell your mom?”

“No, he never existed. Long story, I can explain on the plane, but I really need you to come with me! I’ll pay for everything, and I’ll even get you this coffee and any pastry of your choice every day for a month, please, please, please!” You begged him, so desperate that you were moments away from dropping to your knees and grabbing his leg, refusing to move until he acquiesced. You didn’t have to in the end.

“Oh, sure, I’ll go. When did you say it was?” Your jaw fell open in shock, and it took a few seconds to pull yourself back together as you reacted to his words.

“This weekend? The flight is tomorrow at 6 a.m.” You smiled sheepishly as his eyes bugged out of his head.

“This weekend? What were you going to do if I said no?” He laughed at you a little, taking a sip of the coffee you bought him.

“Honestly? Plan B was to cry, and plan C was to kill off my mystery man in a freak accident.”

“Wow, we just started fake dating and you’re already trying to bump me off.” His smile made you burn hotter than before, as you playfully hit his arm in response.

“Stop saying we’re dating. I pulled you in here to ask you privately because I didn’t want weird rumors circulating in the office,” you pouted.

“Then you better let me out of the closet, Y/N, before people think we’re doing something we shouldn’t be. At least three people saw you drag me in here, you know.”

With that, you rush to open the door and run out, shouting a reminder back at him.

“Just be ready, okay. I’ll see you at the airport at 6 a.m.”

–X–

The flight, despite being ridiculously long, was altogether quite pleasant, and you made it back to California in one piece, Spencer trailing behind you like a lost puppy for a while, letting you take up the role of “airport dad” as you guided him through the airport and to the hotel where the wedding was being held.

“So what’s our cover story?” He asked in the taxi on the way there, breaking the comfortable silence.

“What cover story?” you asked, looking up at him from your phone, still focused on just getting to the destination.

“Where did we meet, how long have we been dating, how much do they know about me?” He listed off the possible questions that his parents were absolutely going to interrogate him with soon. “I need to prepare so we don’t get caught out, right?”

“Oh, right. Based on what I told them, we met at work and we’ve been seeing each other casually for about a year now. I didn’t give them a name yet, which annoys my mom to no end, but I was always pretty private as a child so she didn’t find it all that suspicious. Other than that, they don’t know that much about my mystery boyfriend apart from the things we’ve done together.” He listened attentively as you spoke, taking each of your words in and committing them to memory.

“What was our first date?” He asked.

“Coffee shop. That place I got you the coffee from earlier, it’s called Flondon. I’m a regular there, so it made sense to use it in my story.”

“What else have we done together?”

“There was a book fair in New York a few months back that we, uh, spent the weekend at. You surprised me for my birthday with the tickets.”

“Wow, so I’m a really great boyfriend then.” He joked a little, and you let out another groan of annoyance at his teasing. You didn’t get the chance to finish your conversation though, as the taxi finally pulled up to the hotel.

You climbed out of the taxi after paying the driver, Spencer having already left to grab your bags, before walking into the foyer of the hotel.

“Y/N, just one last thing before we go in,” he stopped you at the door, grabbing you by the arm gently. “Are we… the, um. Hotels tend to get booked up pretty early for weddings, and I’m sure your family will be suspicious if we don’t share a room so…”

He didn’t have to finish voicing his thoughts before you were cursing, not having made the connection before.

“Shit, you’re right. My brother made the booking for me months ago. We just have to go in and get the room key but I totally forgot… It’s fine, right? We’ve roomed together on cases, haven’t we?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No, we haven’t. 67% of our motel bookings allow for single occupation rooms for Agents, I end up sharing a room with Morgan for 15% of overnight stays where double occupation is necessary, Hotch for another 17%, and the remaining 1% is made up of outliers where I had to share with Rossi or Prentiss, but we…we haven’t shared before.” He gestured between the two of you for a moment there, letting the facts sit with you.

“Spencer, it’s okay with me, is it okay with you? I understand if you’re not comfortable with it. We can just turn around now if you want.”

“No, no it’s totally fine. I just wanted to make sure you’re comfortable with it. Morgan says I snore, so I guess I’m not the best roommate in the world.” He smiled at you then, reassuringly, and moved his hand down your arm until it reached your hand.

You looked down at where his hand had entwined with yours and your heart gave a little jolt. Spencer didn’t like physical touch, and you knew that. You tried not to initiate any contact with him, despite being a touchy person, but there had been times after particularly tough cases and with close calls where you’d thrown yourself into the nearest person's arms, and he always happened to be near.

But those hugs had been thoughtless, natural reactions to stressful situations and this was intentional, and more importantly, he’d started it.

“Sorry, I just assumed we should get used to, uh, touching each other, I guess? We’re going to be doing it all weekend, you know, might as well start now.” He gave you an awkward closed-lip smile, and you giggled at his awkward explanatory tone. Squeezing his hand a bit, you grabbed your suitcase again in your free hand, and pushed open the door with your shoulder, pulling Spencer in behind you.

The lobby was filled with people arriving for the wedding, and you instantly spotted three cousins and two aunts from across the room, giving them a little smile as you made your way to the reception desk, Spencer right at your side.

“Hi, reservation for Y/N L/N, please.”

“Sister of the groom, right? Your mother asked me to give her a call when you arrived. Please wait one minute.” She handed you your key, and you felt yourself go pale, turning around to Spencer for reassurance.

“Oh god, she’s coming now, what do we do?”

“Y/N, calm down, it’s okay, we knew we were going to have to see your mom tonight at the reception anyways.”

“You’re right. Okay, right. Okay.” You breathed out, as Spencer wrapped his other arm around you, holding you in a closer embrace while keeping your hands locked together.

“One of my aunts is looking at us. She looks like she wants to say something. Oh god, she’s coming over, Spencer act natural,”

“Saying act naturally is actually counter-active-” but he didn’t have time to finish before you had turned to greet the older woman, disentangling yourself from Spencer’s arms as you hugged the woman warmly.

“It’s so good to see you, Y/N, you know how we all worry about you doing that job of yours. The other week we saw you on the news about that tragedy with the young girl…” she trailed off, giving you a worrying look before quickly shifting her gaze to her actual target, Spencer.

“I think I saw you too, young man. You must be Y/N’s boyfriend,” she smiled at him, waiting to hear a response so she could return to the other matrons with the gossip.

“Yeah, nice to meet you, I’m Spencer.” You could tell he was thankful that the woman hadn’t stuck her hand out to shake his, as he positioned himself mostly behind you, keeping his hands occupied by letting one settle on your hip and the other keeping a hold of your suitcase.

“Spencer? Spencer Reid?” You heard your mother before you saw her, turning around in your place to finally see her, as Spencer whipped his head around as well. “I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so wonderful to finally meet you.”

Your mother had none of the restraint of your aunt, and unfortunately, you’d inherited your clingy side from her, which is why she immediately swooped in to give Spencer a hug. To his credit, he greeted her warmly as well and didn’t avoid the touch, but he kept it short and polite nonetheless.

“Mom, how did you know…”

“You tell me about your coworkers all the time, I’m just surprised I didn’t work it out sooner. I always said that you talked about that Spencer with a fond tone, you should ask your father, he’ll tell you that I did.” You rolled your eyes at your mother’s words, doing your best to avoid Spencer’s gaze. He’d fallen back into place by your side as you greeted your mother.

“It’s so nice to finally meet you, You know, Y/N has been keeping you as this big secret for the last year, and it’s so nice to see that you’re actually real. You’re here!” She sounded so excited for you that your heart almost broke under the weight of your guilt, knowing that you’d have to come clean at some point after the wedding. As it was, you were already going to have to try really hard to avoid the photographer and videographer throughout the night so you didn’t have to be constantly reminded of your idiocy whenever your mother got the photo albums out,

“Sorry, the two of you are probably exhausted after that flight, right? Go and get yourself unpacked. The rehearsal dinner is at 8 p.m. so we’ll catch up then, sweetheart.” She left in a whirlwind, having deposited you next to the elevators, and left you with no other option but to do exactly as she said, making your way to your space for the weekend.

–X–

The following few hours had been a little awkward, to say the least. You’d awkwardly pulled away from one another in the elevator up to the room, apologizing for invading each other's personal space. The room was a decent size, but still small enough that you’d be constantly tripping up over one another the entire weekend if you weren’t careful.

Reid carefully unpacked his tuxedo when you got into the room, and then quietly informed you that he’d need a shower. You’d unpacked your own things while he did, trying not to listen to the water flowing over his body in the next room. His earlier touch had ignited something in you, and your heart was beating at his every gesture now, something that you were sure it hadn’t done before.

What was it about weddings that made you so open to even the possibility of romance that even someone so off-limits could become the object of your affection?

So you tried not to listen, not to wonder why it was taking the man so long to just take a shower, not to let your mind wander to a place where it was perfectly acceptable to wonder what he looked like in that shower, and you unpacked and organized your things.

“Hey, Y/N, I’m really sorry but I forgot to bring my clothes with me,” he called awkwardly through the door a few minutes after you heard the water turn off, and you turned to the bathroom, not expecting the sight before you.

You’d assumed from the quiet volume of his voice that he was calling from within the bathroom itself, but instead, he stood awkwardly in front of you, a towel wrapped around his waist and torso, held together desperately in one hand.

“Oh shit, sorry, I’ll just turn around, I guess,” you stumbled over the words, dragging your eyes back up to his face as you did so, whipping yourself around to stare ahead of you.

“No, no, it’s my fault. I was so hasty I forgot my outfit for tonight. It’s okay.” You heard him fumble for his clothes and return to the bathroom quickly with another mumbled apology, finally allowing you to let out a deep, almost dreamy sigh, startling yourself. Mentally chastising yourself once again, you finished your organizing and let yourself fall onto the bed in the middle of the room sleepily while you waited for him to come out again.

You must have dozed off a little because you woke with a jolt when you felt a soft touch on your arm. There he was above you, a soft and concerned look on his face as he woke you up as kindly as he could.

“Y/N, it’s 7 p.m. We need to get ready for the rehearsal.” He whispered as if he weren’t too bothered if you didn’t want to go down at all, content to let you sleep. But you forced yourself upright anyways, and nodded at his words, swiftly moving yourself towards the bathroom he had since departed.

“Thanks for waking me, Spence,” You rubbed the sleep out of your eyes, gathering your towels and change of clothes before turning back to him. In the four hours you’d apparently been dead to the world, he’d managed to dry his hair, change his clothes, and, from the looks of the book on the bedside table, read through an entire book twice.

He noticed you looking and cleared his throat. “Sorry, you looked so tired I didn’t want to wake you, so I just sat here and read while you got some sleep.”

“It’s okay, Spence. I guess I was pretty tired. I’m gonna go…” you gestured towards the shower and stepped towards it with an awkward smile, not letting him answer before you had closed the door between you and taken a deep breath, setting thoughts of him aside for the night before you focused on getting yourself ready to face your lies.

An hour later, you were making your way back down to the lobby, having received a text from your brother that that was where everyone was gathering before making their way to the dining room. Spencer offered you his arm in the elevator on the way down.

“Here, grab my arm.” He said softly down to you, a sweet smile playing on his lips.

“Oh yeah that makes sense,” you said distractedly, looping your own through his and leaning into him.

“It’ll also stop you from picking your nails,” he joked.

“I don’t pick my nails!”

“You so do. You do it when you’re nervous and when you lie about something. Last month on that case in Chicago when that officer asked for your number, you told him you had a boyfriend and started picking your nails,” he laughed down at you, enjoying your pouting face a bit too much as he profiled you.

“You’re one to talk. The last time a woman asked you out, you started rambling about the linguistic history of the phrase “go out,” in the romantic sense. She stood there for five minutes before she gave up.”

“Wait, when did that happen? I don’t remember any woman trying to ask me out.”

“Then you’re even denser than I realized, Doctor Reid, because they do it constantly.” Your back and forth ended there, though, as the elevator doors finally opened into the lobby. You smoothed out your dress and tried your best to act natural as the two of you made your entrance.

“Y/N! Over here,” you heard your brother and saw him wave at you from the other side of the room, his fiancee next to him receiving guests.

“It’s been so long since I saw my kid sister. Get over here,” he smiled at you, beckoning you over, and you released your hold on Reid to give your brother a warm hug.

“Now who is this kid sister you’re talking about because last I checked you’re only 18 months older than me.”

“18 months, 18 years, all that matters is that I am, in fact, the older one,” he released you from the bear hug and glanced up to Reid, standing awkwardly watching the scene waiting for an invitation to the conversation. “Holy shit, you’re real.”

“Hey! Be nice. This is Spencer, he’s my… he’s my boyfriend, we work together.” You felt your cheeks flame as you introduced the two of them, your brother looking at Spencer through knitted eyebrows, taking on a faux protective stance.

“Spencer, hey. Mom mentioned you were here earlier, but I didn’t think you’d be so gangly… It’s my wedding, and I’ve been told I have to keep all threats to a minimum, but if I see you getting all handsy with my sister, just know that I have a blackbelt in jiu-jitsu.”

“No, you don’t. You have a yellow belt in karate at most, and you got that at age 10.” You laughed at the man.

“And whose fault is that?”

“Oh my god, it’s been almost 20 years, I already apologized!”

“Apologised for what?” Spencer finally managed to butt in, watching your sibling bickering as if it were a tennis match.

“This little rodent,” your brother said, scruffing up your hair as he spoke, “broke my wrist when she was 8 and I was 10.”

“It was self-defense! You were trying to use your karate moves on me and I panicked!”

“And now, you’re a hot-shot FBI Agent and you get to break bad guys wrists all the time.” He finished for you and you laughed, suddenly glad to be back around family.

“So, Spencer, you’re an FBI Agent, too? I thought my mom mentioned something about you being a Doctor earlier.”

“I am. A Doctor. And an FBI Agent, uh, they’re PhD’s not medical degrees, though. Three of them, Math, Chemistry and Engineering. I also have Bachelor's Degrees in Psychology, Philosophy, and Sociology.” He answered, and you looked up at him proudly, taking his hand as you noticed him growing slightly uncomfortable with the attention from your brother.

“Wow,” was all your brother said, until he finished the statement with “All those degrees and my sister was the best you could do, huh?” You punched him in the arm after that, and you felt Spencer physically relax a bit, twinning your fingers with his as you chastised your brother.

“Anyway, thanks for taking the time to come to our, hopefully, lovely wedding, the reception will be starting soon. The dining hall is just through there.” You hugged your brother again, and, with a breath of relief, led Spencer down the hall to the dining hall.

“That went well, I think?” you whispered to him, conspiratorially.

“Your family is nice,” he replied. “Does he always act like that, or is it the wedding spirit possessing him somehow?”

“If you’re referring to my brother, I think he’s probably partaken in a few flutes of champagne already this evening. But yes, he’s always like that. They all like to treat me like a baby when they see me.”

“I think it’s nice. They care about you a lot,” his words were warm, but his eyes were sad, and you remembered what you’d been told of Spencer’s own childhood and felt your heart ache for him. His mom loved him a lot, but Spencer had needed to grow up much too fast. You squeezed his hand, still clasped in yours and before you knew it you were pushing onto your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek.

“Thank you, Spencer. For being here,” you said as his now flushed face met yours. You didn’t let him respond though, simply pushing forward into the dining hall, ready to live in the fantasy of your own making for the evening.

–X–

“Spencer, you were amazing!” You giggled, walking down the hall to your room, stumbling slightly in your excitement and haste.

“Those magic tricks? The little babies couldn’t get enough of you,” you spun around, wrapping your arms around the man’s neck and pulling him in close to you, letting him hold you against the door to your room. He laughed a little at your antics as he pulled out the key card.

“Y/N, are you drunk?” he asked, one hand firmly planted on your waist to steady you now.

“No! I’m just happy. And if that happiness was caused by an array of cocktails forced into my hands by distant aunts and cousins who all wanted to know about my absolute catch of a boyfriend, then that is simply secondary to the feeling itself. And furthermore-” He pushed the door behind you in on itself, and your words were cut off by your legs giving out beneath you.

You were so sure you were about to take a tumble to the floor that you shut your eyes tight and braced for an impact that didn’t come. Opening them again slowly, you saw Spencer closer than before, his face mere inches from your own as he held you in an improvised dip, having caught you just before you’d hit the ground.

“Sorry. I… Shit, maybe I am drunk,” you breathed out, not letting your eyes drift from his own, knowing that if you ever considered a glance down at his lips at that moment, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself from closing the measly distance separating you.

“You should use the bathroom first,” he told you, but without making any move of his own, stuck in that pose with you as if he was content to stay there for as long as he could hold you. “You should take your make-up off. We have a long day tomorrow, right?”

You were the first one to move, letting your feet find a more solid footing beneath you and twisting up from his grip. His hands didn’t leave your body as you became more upright though, still keeping you in that close embrace.

“Yeah, I should… I should go wash up.” You said, and he nodded, still looking at you with the same intensity as before.

“Spencer, that means you need to move,” you whispered quietly, and he jumped back as soon as the words were out of your mouth.

“Sorry. I’ll just… I’ll just be over there,” he held his hands up in surrender before moving further into the room, leaving you next to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, you emerged from the bathroom and were ready to sleep once again. Thankfully, you of earlier that day had managed to store your pajamas in the bathroom ready for their use. Upon exiting the bathroom, you saw that Spencer was getting ready to sleep too, slacks and a shirt having been replaced by a pair of flannel pants and a very old and beaten-up CalTech sweater, looking perplexedly down at the bed.

“Spence, what’s wrong?”

“We didn’t speak any further about the sleeping arrangements…” he mumbled and you looked at the bed in front of you, still confused at his meaning. “Y/N, we have to share the bed.”

“Oh.” You knew you probably sounded dumb, but after the amount of alcohol thrust upon you that night, that was all you could muster at this point.

“I can sleep on the floor if that makes you feel more comfortable. It’s probably no worse than some of the motel beds we’ve stayed on before,” he offered, but you instantly shook your head.

“No, I dragged you out here, I’m not making you sleep on the floor as well,” you sighed and made your way to the side of the bed you’d slept on earlier, beginning to pull the covers down so you could get in.

“What are you doing?” Spencer asked, perplexed by your somehow contrasting words and actions.

“I’m getting ready for bed. It’s late.” You replied, not looking up at him again, for fear that he’d spot the blush on your face. “You should too,” you continued, patting the other side of the bed, gesturing for him to get in, too.

“Oh.” It was his turn to stand there shell-shocked in the moment, and you almost let out a giggle but held back thinking that would be too much for him to take in at that moment.

“Come on, Spence, I’m tired, I’m sure you’re tired. We’re just sharing a bed, it’s not like you have to marry me after this.” You climbed fully into the bed, making sure that your nightgown covered you decently before pulling the covers up around you. Spencer mumbled something that you didn’t catch, but he acquiesced and climbed in after you. You turned your head over on the pillow to face him, turning onto your side as you watched him turn his head to you as well.

“What?” he smiled, noticing your stare.

“Nothing. Good night, Spence,” you smiled, finally letting your eyes drop closed.

“Good night, Y/N.” He whispered, and the sound of his voice carried you off to sleep.

–X–

You weren’t sure if it was the light streaming in through the window or the rise and fall of a chest that wasn’t your own was the first thing to wake you in the morning, but nonetheless, you woke from the comfortable warmth of sleep and found yourself wrapped around your fake boyfriend.

To be fair to yourself, he was also wrapped around you. Your head had gravitated from your pillow to his chest, his left arm wrapped up and around your back. Your leg had also risen in the night, pulled up over his waist, held in place by his other arm, which was, almost embarrassingly, cradling your ass, pulling you in closer to his core. Unsure about how to go about disentangling yourself, you resigned yourself to just waking the man up.

“Spencer… Spencer,” you whispered, letting the hand that had fallen onto his chest tap him slightly. He stirred a little and then cracked an eye open, looking confused with the situation.

“Y/N, is it time for the wedding?” He asked through half-lidded eyes, evidently wanting nothing more than to fall back into whatever dreams he was having. You shifted uncomfortably in his arms then, suddenly growing stiff in the position you’d probably held for hours, and found your nightgown had risen dangerously high on your body, his hand on your near bare ass.

“No, no, it’s just…” You rolled your hips against his in discomfort, and the movement had his eyes breaking open as he finally took in your positions.

“Shit, I’m….Sorry, I don’t know what happened, I must’ve grabbed you when we were sleeping,” he said, reluctantly slipping his hands away from your body, trailing his hand around your leg, and letting it fall onto his stomach. The movement sent a shiver up your spine, as you finally had enough room to lift your torso up, not quite ready to relinquish the proximity of your entire body yet.

“It’s okay, I think it was probably me who started it in the first place. Those pillows weren’t that comfortable…” you tried to explain, the hand on his chest rubbing slow circles into his skin before you could realize what you were doing.

He pushed himself up into a sitting position then as well, clumsily. With your legs still wrapped around his waist, you had no choice but to move with him, suddenly finding yourself straddling him, the bedsheets suddenly pressed away from your body. If he looked down, he’d see a lot more than you planned for him to see, your panties on clear display as your nightgown twisted itself up into the sheets.

“Shit sorry,” he moaned out again, as you steadied yourself with hands on his shoulders.

“No, it’s okay, I didn’t move quick enough.” You quickly pulled your dress down again, and extracted yourself from the bed, lifting your leg up and off of him and finally pushing off the bed, leaving him sat there.

His hands fell into his lap and you started gathering things around the room, readying yourself for the busy day ahead.

“I have to be in the bridal suite at 11, so we have about… two hours to kill before then. Do you want to grab a shower first, or should I?”

“You first,” he mumbled quickly, before clearing his throat and trying again. “You should go first. You probably have more to do today, right?” You nodded at his words and made your way to the bathroom again. Out of the corner of your eye though, as you let the door close behind you, you watched his hands come up to cradle his flushed face, as he let his head fall back again into the pillow.

–X–

The morning was so busy after that, you barely had any chance to talk to Spencer again. You spent the early afternoon in the bridal suite with the wedding party, welcoming your new sister to the family, then made your way to the aisle space set up outside, checking up on last-minute details and helping to flower girls into position. You weren’t walking down the aisle yourself, but you could see that the extra help was letting the very stressed-out Maid of Honour get some well-needed respite. And more importantly, it stopped your wandering thoughts from letting you fantasize about Spencer.

You’d woken up in bed next to people before, of course, but it had never felt so comfortable. In fact, other people you’d slept with said you were pretty distant in your sleep, choosing to move as far away from physical touch as you could get, but you knew with no doubt that you had been the one to move in first, to touch him first. That he’d pulled you even closer had your heart singing, and you wanted to be wrapped up in him all over again, suddenly desperate to seek him out. So you distracted yourself, not wanting to make any mistakes you would regret when you were no longer wrapped up in your own fantasy.

So you kept your distance as the ceremony started. Then the wedding march was playing, and you were holding back tears as his hand slipped into yours, your head falling onto his shoulder as you watched your brother marry the love of his life.

You kept your distance as you reached the reception hall, watching all the old ladies on both sides fawn over him, asking him questions, and watching from his side as he blushed at the attention. You swept the hair out of his eyes as the couple was announced, and you took your seat for the wedding meal and the speeches, his hand falling to your back to guide you to your chair, pulling it out for you like a true gentleman.

You kept your distance as your new sister tossed the bouquet, and despite your low effort and the ravenous looks of the bridesmaids, it fell neatly into your hands as if it belonged there. You ran excitedly over to him to show him and he lifted you into a hug, caught up in your own excitement.

You kept your distance until you realized you’d not kept your distance at all, physically unable to keep yourself away from the man who had somehow stolen your heart in the middle of the night.

“I know that look,” your brother said, somehow sneaking up on you later into the night as you watched Spencer perform even more of his magic tricks for the smaller guests.

“What look?” you asked, not for one second letting your eyes drift from Spencer.

“You’re in love with him,” he said, taking a swig of the drink in his hand.

“He’s my boyfriend,” you said reflexively, turning to the drinks table behind you and picking up one for yourself.

“No, he isn’t. Or at least he wasn’t before this weekend,” your brother said, as your eyes finally snapped up to him.

“Oh, don’t act all surprised, Miss FBI Profiler. You may be good, but I’ll always be your older brother, and contrary to popular opinion, I do in fact pay attention to things.” You sighed and leaned back against the table.

“How’d you figure it out?”

“You were picking your nails the entire way through the reception dinner when the aunties were asking you about your relationship. You did that when we were younger too, when you tried lying to Mom and Dad about how I broke my wrist. Doesn’t take two PhD’s to figure that out.”

“Three.”

“Three what?”

“Three PhDs. He has three of them.” You sighed dreamily and ran a stressed hand through your head.

“He’s just my coworker. I didn’t want to disappoint Mom by coming alone after telling her all those stories, but now…” You tried to explain yourself but words were escaping you in that moment.

“You should tell him, trust me. He definitely feels the same.”

“How are you so confident about that? How did you manage to end up with all of the confidence between the two of us, when I can barely work up the courage to tell my own mother I’m still single?”

“Y/N, look at me. You got the brains, I had to have something. And no man flies to the opposite side of the country on a few day's notice for a girl who is just a friend, okay? That’s more logic than confidence, and that’s supposed to be your strong suit.”

You considered his words for a second, turning back to look at Spencer. Evidently, he’d finished his magic show and was beginning to say goodbye to the children, but he felt your eyes on him somehow and met your gaze. He brought his hand up into a shy wave before a little girl grabbed his attention again, and he looked at her seriously, nodding along to each word she was saying.

“Fuck, what do I do, I’m not good with… any of this.” You turned back to your brother, but he’d left you there, stranded in your own thoughts as you let yourself hope, let your brain dream that one day this would be your wedding and the man by your side would be Spencer Reid.

“Ladies and gentlemen, the bride and groom request the presence of all the couples on the dancefloor for this next song.” You saw your brother again, next to his wife, whispering his explanations in his ear as she turned to look at you and winked as well. God, they were going to be a force to be reckoned with together now, you thought, as people started pushing past you to make their way to the dancefloor.

You recognized the song of course, and it was almost so on the nose you almost rolled your eyes. More Than Words by Extreme. Perfect.

“Y/N, may I have this dance?” He had somehow snuck up on you from behind as you watched your brother, and held his hand out to you. You put your drink down and took it, letting him lead you to the dance floor.

“I didn’t think you danced, Dr. Reid,” you teased him as he pulled you in, letting his hands rest on your waist, as yours came up around his neck, gently letting him sway you side to side in time with the music.

“I don’t really, but it seemed wrong not to,” he smiled. “I’m at a wedding, with the most beautiful girl on my arm, and the couple made it very clear that we should be dancing, so here I am.” You blushed at his words as he spoke. He removed his hands from your waist, instead grasping one of yours in his own as he pulled you closer.

You stared up at him with a soft smile for a few more seconds before letting your head fall back to his chest.

“I know I’ve said it a lot this weekend, but thank you, Spencer.” You said into his shirt, letting him hold you close as the song went on.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N.” He insisted, and you looked up at him again. “Actually… I didn’t exactly agree to this with the best of intentions.”

Your heart lept to your throat as you stared up at him, hoping that he would take your silence as a means to continue.

“I’ve been… I thought that maybe…” he struggled to get the words out, his face aflame with the effort.

“You promised me those coffees right?” He finally stuttered out, and you were left confused and a little disappointed.

“Yeah, Spence, it’s okay, I’ll get you those coffees for the month, just like we promised.” You couldn’t help the sad smile that played on your lips as you answered him, so sure that he was about to say something else.

“No, I mean… Y/N I don’t want the coffee. I want this. I want us to go home, and make everything that you made up come true. I want to take you on a date to that coffee shop. I want to be a boyfriend you can call and tell your mom about because it’s serious and it’s going to work out between us. I even… God, I even spent the morning looking up book fairs in New York City so I could make that come true as well,” he rambled the words out and you could feel the tears forming in your eyes.

“Spencer,” you said softly, trying to get him to focus on you, but he’d started speaking and he wasn’t going to be stopped so easily.

“And if any of that creeps you out, just say the word and I’ll never mention it again. Because I know I’m not good with this, and when I feel something, I tend to feel it overwhelmingly, and Derek tells me I can be really oblivious sometimes, which I don’t really get, but-”

“Spencer,” you put a bit more force into your words this time, punctuating them with a hand on his face.

“Spencer, kiss me.” And he does. He takes your head in both of his hands, and he draws you up to him perfectly, letting your hands fall to the lapels of his suit jacket as he steals your breath away one more time. The kiss is lingering, but short, and he hesitantly backs away, looking around to spot witnesses. But you don’t care and you pull him back down for another, and another, until you’re just two lovers on the dance floor that cannot get enough of each other, gasping for breath between chaste kisses as you let him hold you there, gently swaying.

“Spencer,” you whisper finally, forehead resting on his, as the song finally draws to a close.

“Yes?”

“Spencer, take me to bed.” You tell him, and he nods. He leads you over to the bride and groom where you offer each of them a hug and a happy future before making your excuses and running away with Spencer back into the hotel like two love-drunk teenagers, a mess of giggles and stolen kisses as you stumble up to your room for the second time that weekend.

But this time, you don’t hesitate, don’t pull away. He backs you into the door and you let him hold you there, his mouth on yours, your tongues entwined as he fumbles for his key card. You fall together into the room, laughing and smiling the entire way, not letting him escape your touch.

“May I?” He asks, playing with the zipper of your dress as you kiss his cheek, his jaw, his neck, anywhere you can reach, nodding and moaning your consent. The moment the zip is pulled down, he lets you go for a second, and the dress falls straight to the floor. You're practically bare in front of him, chest exposed, neck littered with the beginning of love bites that he’s about to absolutely build upon.

“You’re beautiful.” He says, softly, wrapping his arms around you again, lifting you up so your legs can wrap around him as he delivers one more soul-crushing kiss to your lips. Your brain is a mess of emotions, your only solid thought is that you will never let him go again. You both eagerly worked on unbuttoning his shirt together, a desperate mess of breaths as he finally laid you on the bed. His hand fell to your core, tracing a finger over your sensitive nub as you begged him for more, needing to feel all of him, to devour his very existence.

He pulled himself out of his remaining clothes, lips still attached to yours, climbing over you and holding you tenderly, his arms wrapping around your body as his legs came to settle between your own. Dropping his forehead to yours, he finally spoke again, his hand dropping between the two of you to line himself up.

“Is this… are you sure?” You heard the restraint in his voice, the desperation, the love, the overwhelming lust as he held himself back, needing to hear your consent.

“Spencer, I love you,” you whispered, and he finally pushed himself into you, joining the two of you together in a moment of bliss. You shared another sweet kiss, letting him swallow each and every one of your moans as he began thrusting into you, your hips rising to meet him in your delirious pleasure.

He whispered sweet nothings in your ears, brushing the hair off your face every now and again to tell you how beautiful you looked, and how well you were doing.

“You’re so perfect, Y/N, you’re doing so good for me,” he pressed kisses against your neck with each word, keeping his pace steady as you chased your inevitable high, already clenching around his thick cock.

“Spencer, I love you,” you let the words drop from your tongue like a prayer, repeating them over and over with each thrust as small tears welled up out of your eyes. He kissed them away from your cheeks, listening to each confession as your stomach tightened and your climax spilled over you. He grabbed your waist then, leaving one hand cupping and stroking your cheek as his own thrusts grew sloppy, finally spending himself fully inside you.

“I love you, too,” he whispered into you then, unwilling to let you go for even one second. You spent the rest of the night whispering the words back and forth to one another, waiting with bated breath for the fantasy to break, for the magic of the wedding to wear off.

It never did.

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[viennakarma]

Something you paid for

Fernando Alonso x Reader

Summary: Two years into the best relationship of your life, you find out that Fernando thinks you don't love him. But it get worse and you realize the whole world think of you as gold digger.

Word count: 5.7k

Tags: female!reader, established relationship, slut shaming, reader is confused, fernando is even more confused, miscommunication, cursing, a bit angsty, hurt/comfort, soft smut (almost not there), happy ending, not beta read

Relationship: Fernando Alonso x Reader

Note: I'm honestly not 100% sure about this story, a had another ending planned but I wanted it to be HEA. I don't know. :(

I'm sorry if it's rushed or full of mistakes. Feedback and opinions are appreciated xx

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It was supposed to be just a pause in your studies. Something quick since your brain was already mushy from studying and writing your research for too long.

So when you picked up your phone, to aimlessly scroll through social media, you didn’t expect to see a new, sudden rush of comments on your instagram page. There were thousands of comments in your last post, calling you a gold digger, and much, much worse. Ever since you started dating Fernando, you had been getting these comments, and in the beginning they were worse but slowed down with time. Now they were on a new high again. Confused more than anything, you went on to try and find out what happened for this to happen all of a sudden. You and Fernando hadn’t gone out together for more than two weeks and you hadn’t been to a race week for a month.

After digging you eventually found out what happened. Deuxmoi posted something that made everyone quickly think it was you.

A lady who’s 12 years younger than her famous Spanish Formula One driver boyfriend, is known for being with him for his money. Many tried to warn him, but it seems like he doesn’t believe or doesn’t care.

Confused, you stared at the post, scrolling through hundreds of nasty, poisonous comments. That wasn’t true. Fernando did give you lots of presents and spoiled you a lot but he did this out of his own want, not because you asked for or demanded it. He was constantly giving you things, especially clothes, shoes and bags, and loved seeing you wearing them. He also gave you an Aston Martin car on your last birthday. He even went as far as getting you a credit card attached to his, for whenever you needed to buy books or go on a shopping spree. You never minded it because you knew he liked it, instead of refusing you were just grateful for his generosity.

You wondered if you should talk about it with him, but deep down you knew Fernando was never one to care for gossip of any kind. And this probably wasn’t even true to begin with, just someone trying to stir the pot. So you just limited the comments in your posts and went on about your day.

A week later you went to the race, it was Silverstone, and the last before summer break. You decided to dress your best, wearing clothes that were pretty and elegant and had been given to you by Fernando.

He always treated you like a princess, he was kind and patient, and always found a way to align your schedules to spend time together. He liked taking you on trips during summer break and to ski trips during winter break. Fernando adored having you around in race weeks, you could see in his face that he was radiant with your presence. And you loved all the gifts and the trips but you especially loved staying home with him, lazing around, making love on the sofa and taking walks hand in hand in his hometown. You loved helping him cook, trying your best to follow his orders and not mess up his recipes. 

You walked into the paddock hand in hand, and you kept him company whenever you could. He would keep you around the most, only letting you go when he had meetings or media duties. During that time, you would go back to his room and do a little more of your research, writing your thesis.

You left his room so you could grab a snack and a coffee at the hospitality, but as you passed by a hallway, you heard someone saying your name in conversation. You stopped, leaning against the wall to hear, with a glance, you saw two mechanics talking.

“Seems like everyone tried to warn him, man. But it’s like he doesn’t mind dating a gold digger.”

“Is she a gold digger, really?”

“Man, she doesn’t do anything! She doesn't even work.”

“Has anyone warned Fernando?”

“Everyone.”

You went back inside his driver’s room, sitting down, completely shocked. So that’s what people thought of you? You knew people on the internet talked about it, but they were strangers so you wouldn’t allow yourself to mind because those people didn’t know you. But the people in the garage? They’ve known you for almost two years now, you were always kind and polite to them, even going as far as bringing them cookies and donuts as thank you for welcoming you so well.

You avoided crying, it would ruin your makeup, and Fernando would notice it very quickly. So you just sat there, numb. Thinking about how everyone believed you were with Fernando because of his money and nothing else.

When Fernando found you again, before he had to go get ready for the race, he noticed you were a little down.

“You should not study so hard on the weekends, princesa.” He muttered, hugging you from behind and leaving a gentle kiss to your neck. Of course, he would think you were just tired.

“You are absolutely right, mi amor,” you smiled a little, turning around so you could hug him properly, “do you have time for a little kiss?”

“Even two,” he joked.

You ended up sitting on his lap, making out like two teenagers, until someone knocked on the door, calling Fernando to go get ready.

“Hey, good luck, yeah?” You said, kissing him one more time then kissing the back of his hand, “I love you.”

You watched the race from the garage, feeling self conscious now that it seemed like everyone thought you were leeching off of Fernando.

In the end, Fernando got P3 which was a great result and you celebrated wildly, proudly watching him get on the podium.

After his post race meetings, you met him in his room.

“Let’s go out to celebrate! Dinner is on me!” You hugged him, mood better now than before.

You and him ended up going out for dinner, at a high end restaurant, dressed to the nines. It was fun, you listened to Fernando talking about the race, then he asked you what you thought about the race.

Before dessert, you went into the bathroom to retouch your makeup and freshen up. When you came back, your tiramisu was already there. You and Fernando shared the dessert, laughing to each other.

When the waitress came, you picked the opportunity.

“Dear, can we get the tab please?”

“It’s already taken care of, Madam.”

Your smile faltered, and you looked at Fernando as she left. He was smiling like he couldn’t hold it in.

“Fernando! I said dinner was on me!”

“Why would I let you pay, princesa?”

“Because you got a podium today! As a celebration!” You whined, upset. Fernando pulled your chair, until you were right beside him and he kissed your cheek.

“I like paying for you, Hermosa,” Fernando stood up, offering you a hand, “come on, you can treat me right in our hotel room, what about that?”

You smiled as he pulled you away, but something still nagged at your brain.

You and Fernando took the private plane back to Madrid after the date, because he had sponsor meetings over the week, and you honestly wanted to sleep in your bed. The trip was quick, and while Fernando took a nap, you tried studying, but your mind kept going back to being called a gold digger.

Deep down, you really wanted to talk to Fernando about it, but you were unsure if he could fix this in any way. What could he do? Make a post on instagram saying hey, my girlfriend isn’t leeching off of me as most you think!? You did live with Fernando, for six months now, and he paid all the bills and the house was his. But he also gave you many many gifts.

When you got home, putting your bags inside the closet, you two just changed into sleepwear, ready to doze off.

Then Fernando opened his bag and grabbed a small box.

“Oh, I had forgotten! Got you a present last week in Austria!”

He handed you the box, and with your heart beating fast, you opened it to a beautiful vintage watch. It was gold, delicate with a beautiful bracelet. There was a lump in your throat as you stared at the piece.

“You didn’t like it? It’s ok, princesa, I’ll get you another one,” he said, with a gentle smile.

“I don’t need another watch, Nando. You gave me this one not even a month ago,” you raised your wrist, showing him the brand new one he gave you.

“I want to give it to you. It doesn’t matter,” he shrugged.

“And I don’t want it,” god, you didn’t want to sound so ungrateful, but how could you tell him that his presents felt like something else now? “You have to stop giving me so many presents,” you said, trying to put into words what you were feeling.

“But that’s how I won you over, why would you refuse my presents now?”

Something about the nonchalance in his voice made you stop, stomach dropping. That’s how I won you over? That’s how he believed your relationship came to be? That’s why he thought you were together?

“What did you say?” You paused, suddenly turning to him, it felt like a punch to the throat, “You- you believe I’m a gold digger? You believe it?”

Fernando walked up to you, putting both hands on your waist, a soft smile gracing his face.

“Amor, you know I don’t mind spending my money on you. Quite the opposite, I love to spoil you.”

You stood there, speechless for a couple of seconds. Then you snapped out of it, pushing his hands off you.

“That’s not what I asked!” Your voice sounded louder, you tried to regain your composure, “people talk a lot, the press too, but you know the truth, right?!”

“I’m a rich man, I like providing you with the luxurious lifestyle you lead. I don’t care that you enjoy my money.”

His words made it so much worse. It made you nauseous, the idea that all this time, he’s been thinking of you as a gold digger, as someone who’s only with him for his money and for what he could provide for you.

“No, Fernando- no!” Your voice wavered, “that’s not true! I love you, you know that right?”

“Why are you so caught up in some silly rumor?

“You know right? You know I love you.” You pressed further waiting for an answer. Hoping against hope that he knew it deep down, that he could acknowledge that you harbored love for him.

“Amor, we have such a great dynamic like this. I don’t need your love, just your loyalty and for you to be my pretty girl.”

He was so calm and reassuring, like he had made peace with the fact that you didn’t love him. Like he wasn’t bothered at all by the fact that you were supposedly a gold digger. His dismissal broke something inside you.

“So you don’t- you don’t believe I love you?”

You felt pathetic and helpless, repeating the same words again and again, hoping and praying for a different answer from Fernando.

“Come on, I’m really tired, can we go to sleep?

“Fernando.”

“I’m going to wait for you in bed,” was all he said, dismissing you completely.

You walked out of the room at the same time he went into the bathroom, you held your head up until you softly closed the door behind you, then finally the tears spilled. You went to the bathroom downstairs, the farthest you could go away from him as the sobs broke from your throat violently.

Sliding down on the floor you wondered if everything was lie. You knew it wasn’t but the fact that he thought you were only there for the money was completely wrong. How long had he been thinking that? How many times had he heard you say “I love you” and thought it wasn’t true? You didn’t even know what to do or what to feel. How could you feel if this whole time while you were pouring your heart into this relationship he thought you were just leeching off of him? How can you love someone so deeply and still live with the fact they think of you as a freeloader? Did he joke with his friends like yeah, she’s a gold digger but at least she’s loyal and fucks me well? 

Your chest hurt and you felt repulsive, making your way to the living room, opening a bottle of his whiskey, not bothering with a glass, just sipping it straight from the bottle.

What could you do now? Talk to him? Tell him you’re not with him for his money? After two whole years accepting his every gift with open arms? After getting a fortune worth of presents? After letting him pay for your books, textbooks, new laptop? After letting him pay for dates, trips, clothes, accessories, shoes and jewelry?

You hated yourself for it now. For taking it just because you thought it was his love language, not because deep down he was trying to keep you, buying your affection.

After spending the whole night awake, nursing a bottle and with only your repulsive thoughts as company, you watched as the sun rose from the big living room window.

It was time to fix it.

Fernando was an early riser almost every morning, so after the sun fully rose in the sky, you went in the kitchen and prepared coffee, to cut the effect of the alcohol. You weren’t drunk, really.

“Morning, bebé! You woke up earlier than me today?” He said, passing you with a kiss to your cheek, then going to the cabinet for a mug. He was so unbothered by your argument last night it was pissing you off.

“I didn’t sleep.”

He paused, looking at your face.

“We should talk.” You readied yourself. Fernando stopped in front of you, attentive. “I’ve been hearing a lot this past week that I’m a gold digger, this has been making me feel some kind of way, and I wanted to address this with you. Last night you were tired and we probably misunderstood each other…”

“Where are you going with this, corazón?” He asked, confused.

“I’m not with you for your money, Fernando. Do you understand that?”

He stood silent, which only made you feel worse.

“I want you to stop giving me presents without a proper occasion. And I want you to stop paying stuff for me. And we’re going to share house bills.” You laid it all out, after thinking hard all throughout the night.

“What are you talking about? No, I don’t accept it.” He frowned, “that wasn’t the deal when we moved in together.”

“Because I didn’t know everything back then. I don’t want to feel like I’m taking advantage of you, and I don’t live at your cost like this.”

“No, Y/N.” He took a step back, shaking his head as if you had said the most stupid thing he had ever heard.

“I’m serious, Fernando.”

“No, I’m not negotiating this. I pay for everything. That’s how it’s been and that’s how it will be.”

“I just want to show you that I’m not with you for the money! I’m not what they’re calling me! No more presents, Fernando.”

“You took them.”

“Because I thought you wanted me to have them!”

“I wanted you to have them so you would want to stay with me!”

You gasped, hearing it from his mouth finally. The tears finally started flowing, and you swallowed, trying to keep your voice steady even with the tempest happening inside your chest, staining the beautiful story of your relationship. Well, what you thought was a beautiful relationship.

“You’re just like them, right?” You said, defeated, “you think of me as a gold digging whore. You probably never defended me when they called me that.”

“I gave you all this stuff because I didn’t want you to leave!”

“It was never about the fucking money! And guess what? You lost me anyway!” You marched to the bedroom, Fernando hot on your heels.

“Don’t. Don’t leave.” He said, following you. “I did everything for you to never leave!”

“Everything but loving me! I don’t fucking care!” You unlatched your necklace, putting it on the table, “I don’t care about your money and the jewelry and the clothes and the bags!” You put down your watch and earrings too. Everything he had given you not because he wanted you or loved you, but because he thought they were the price to pay to keep you around.

“Fuck, I love you!” You shouted, feeling desperate and lost, “And all you see me as is something you paid for. A toy you can parade around and look pretty in your arm! You don’t even love me, Fernando. I could write a list about everything I love about you, and none of it would be your stupid money!”

In the closet, you picked a bag, and started putting your clothes inside. Then you noticed how most of them were gifts from him. So you put it back, taking only what you had bought yourself. Fernando stood there, helpless as you packed, putting clothes and a few shoes in a couple of baggage. You also took your study material and laptop, which he had gifted you, but you knew you’d refund him.

“Stop, no,” Fernando tried to stop you as went into the garage, “I do, I love you.”

“You don’t, Fernando. You’re not even sure of that.” You shook your head, putting the bags inside the car. The Aston Martin he had given you, “you have to think. If you really love me as you say, then why do you love me? Because I’m eye candy you can take to galas? Because I’m a good fuck? Because I stand there and look pretty when you have to kiss those old men’s asses?”

You didn’t give him a second, getting in the car and starting the engine.

“This is so messed up, oh my god, how could I let myself believe this for two entire years?” You whispered to yourself, accelerating the car and driving off. 

Through the rear view, you could see Fernando standing there, doing nothing.

You drove and wiped the tears away, breathing in. When you moved in with Fernando, you hadn’t been able to get out of the lease of your flat because you still had a few months on your renting contract. Now it felt like luck that you had a place to stay. Despite getting your doctorate degree, you didn’t have any friends in the city, only a few acquaintances here and there.

You got to the apartament, not bothering to unpack your bags, only leaving it on the bedroom floor. You took your study material and with your phone in hand, you sent Fernando via transfer a total 4000 euros, for what you hoped covered the “laptop and books expenses” as you wrote in the little note.

Then you laid on the bed, crying yourself to sleep.

You woke up and it was getting dark, the sun setting outside. Checking your phone, there were fourteen missed calls from Fernando, and a notification, showing that he had returned the money to you, with additional 30000 euros and only “no” written on the little note. Huffing, you sent the whole amount back and blocked him, so he couldn’t transfer any more money to you.

He still had not realized what was wrong, he was still thinking money was your motivation.

The next few days felt like a haze, you were barely getting any sleep, only eating and writing your research, which ultimately reminded you of Fernando, since it was a study on aerodynamics. You couldn’t lie to yourself, thinking of how many times you stared at the door, waiting and hoping he would understand and come after you.

-

Fernando had work commitments in England, and going back to Madrid, he ended up giving George and his girlfriend a lift. Fernando was visibly not himself as soon as George saw him.

“How’s Y/N doing?” George asked, casually. But from the way Fernando’s face dropped, he could tell something was wrong, “trouble with the missus?” He joked, tried to lighten the mood.

“She- uh, she left.” Fernando muttered.

“What do you mean, she left?” Carmen joined the conversation, “She’s traveling?”

“No- no- I guess we broke up.”

“You guess?!” George’s voice went a little high pitched out of nervousness.

“Fernando, what happened?” Carmen tried to understand. 

Despite not being exactly best friends, you and her were pretty close, always spending time together whenever both of you were on race weekends. The fact that you’re both engaged academics was also a common topic between you.

“You know about the rumors, right?” Fernando started, hesitating.

“What rumors?” George paused.

“That she’s only with me for the money,” Fernando muttered.

“All girlfriends of drivers are accused of that at some point, what’s new?” George pushed.

“I might have implied that I agree with that.”

“Oh, my god,” Carmen covered her mouth, absolutely shocked, “What?”

“Fernando, respectfully- Are you fucking insane?!” George exclaimed, jaw slack, “she looks at you all lovey-dovey, like- like- you’re the only person in the entire earth and you think she’s with you for the money?”

“She would never be like that! She’s so smart and kind,” Carmen added.

“I know- I just- I don’t know! Maybe I let the rumors get to my head!” he ran both hands over his face, exasperated, “And she always lets me pay, and she always takes the presents, I don’t know!”

Then, Fernando explained about how you tried to pay for dinner, and you refused his gift, he told them about the argument and how you wanted to set boundaries about money and gifts.

“She was trying to prove to you that she’s not a freeloader. She was trying to show that the money didn’t matter, and what did you do? You pushed more money on her!” George practically spat the words in Fernando’s face.

“Eres muy estúpido, Fernando. Te lo digo como tu amiga.” Carmen muttered.

“I don’t know what she said but I heard the word stupid, and I agree.” George backed her up, “Go talk to her, apologize and fix it.”

“That is,” Carmen interrupted, face serious, “If you really love her. Otherwise, better let her go find someone who can really love her, it’s what she deserves. Love and happiness.”

Fernando swallowed, his chest constricting with the mere thought of you moving on, of someone else having you in their arms.

Getting back home without you there felt like a thick fog day, cold and empty and he missed you, he missed his sun. He missed you jumping into his arms as soon as he opened the door. He missed the smell of the candles you always lit while studying. He even missed the little mess of textbooks, colorful highlighters and notes scattered around.

Home didn’t feel like home without you.

In the middle of the living room, there were big cardboard boxes, as he opened, he noticed they were full of clothes, shoes and bags he had gifted you throughout your relationship. In a smaller box, all the jewelry he had given you, even anniversary gifts. Even the beauty products he had given you like perfumes, makeup products, and face creams.

You had returned every single thing.

And on the coffee table, your keys to the house and the keys of your Aston Martin DB12.

It seemed like you had returned everything that could tie you to him, everything that made him wrongly call you a gold digger. And it felt painfully like a goodbye.

-

While mixing your homemade coffee, your eyes flicked to the door, then to your phone on the table, facing up. Despite the searing pain in your chest, and the sorrowful hole in your heart, maybe it was time to start to move on. It had been more than a week, if he wanted to come back to you, he would’ve come by now.

You got ready to meet with your advisor, and she brought up a topic that had been common now, about you taking a position as a professor for a couple of Engineering subjects. She said it’d be good for you to work in your area while on the last few months before getting your doctorate degree. You had mostly denied the other times she offered the position, because you wanted more time with Fernando, because you wanted the freedom to fly around the world following him to his races.

Now- now you had more bills to pay and no boyfriend to follow. You also had more free time, a broken heart and a vacant mind. 

“I’m considering the position. I believe it could do me good right now.” You said to her, thoughtful, “can I confirm with you tomorrow?”

After going through the meeting and getting a review on your thesis, you went back to your flat, taking a long shower. You had just dressed in pajamas when the doorbell rang. With long strides, you were faced with Carmen, and not Fernando as you expected.

“From your face I take it he hasn’t spoken to you, yes?” Carmen muttered, seeing the visible disappointment in your face.

“I’m sorry, please come in,” you opened the door wider, forcing a smile. Carmen had a couple of bags that she set on a nearby table.

“He told us what happened, I’m so sorry,” Carmen hugged you and you immediately started crying, since you had no one to talk about the past few days, “I brought chocolates and wine, so we can talk.”

Over chocolates and a bottle of Merlot, you told her everything, starting at the deuxmoi rumor. She looked horrified when you said word for word what had transpired the last time you spoke with him.

“I just don’t understand why he didn’t come talk to you yet,” Carmen added, at some point.

“Because he won’t, at all.” You say with your voice shaky from crying so much the past hour.

“Don’t say that. He loves you.” Carmen said.

“I’m not entirely sure about that,” you shrugged, pretending it didn’t hurt as much as it did, “He’ll find another one, someone who can enjoy his money since it seems like it’s all that matters to him.”

Carmen didn’t say anything to that and you knew she couldn’t argue with the facts. Later, George dropped by to get her, going up to your flat so he could hug you quickly and mutter “I’m sorry”.

With a heavy heart, you slowly rebuild a healthy routine again, doing grocery shopping, cooking meals, going to the gym, studying and everything.

One day, you went back home after going on a shopping spree, and as you got into the hall, Fernando was there, standing in your hall, waiting by the door. You stopped, almost losing the timing to leave the elevator. When you walked closer, he noticed you. Meeting his eyes was different this time, uncertain and a little distant.

“What do you want?” You asked, you hoped your voice would come out harsh, but it only sounded defeated.

“Can we talk?” He asked, and you nodded, opening the door and letting him in.

There was a moment of awkward silence as you put the shopping bags down. After doing that, you crossed your arms and stood against a side table, waiting quietly.

“I’m sorry. I’m really sorry, for not fully believing your love, I guess I was so focused in protecting myself, that I ended up hurting you, and it was never my intention,” Fernando stood just two steps away from you, his eyes holding such pain and fear, that it made you crumble, he didn’t look like he’d been sleeping well, “I love you, I really do. For who you are and nothing else.”

You wanted to give in so bad, you wanted to run into his arms and never let go, but you also didn’t want to suffer again.

“How do you know? You never knew that for two years, how would you know it now?” You shook your head, tears starting to fill your eyes again.

“Because it is hard being without you,” he said, like he was trying to find the right words, “I can’t sleep without you. My life is miserable without you around.”

You only nodded, covering your lips with a hand. You wanted to tell him that you had not gotten proper sleep without him, that your life feels empty, that not knowing about him everyday was painful. But you needed more. You needed something you could hold onto, and maybe, just maybe take another chance at the two of you.

“I- I made a list. Like you said,” his voice failed, and you noticed his hand was shaking a little as he held the paper, “I love you. I love coming home to you every time and feel our house so lived in. I love how you always hug me first thing after I’m back home. I love the silly texts you send me randomly throughout the day talking about your day. I love the selfies with your tongue out too,” that made you two chuckle, and the movement made your tears fall, so you wiped them, staring at him intently, “I love that you’re always the smartest person in any room we’re in. I love that you’re humble, never showing off or being a smartass. I love how cheeky and witty you are. I love that you talk in your sleep. I love that scar in your knee, because it shows you were always a little naughty, even as a kid. I love that there’s always fresh flowers at home. I love that you love kids. I love that you get along well with my family. I love that you-”

He didn’t finish, as you closed the distance and launched yourself at him, hugging him tight. Fernando held you close, pressing you into him, inhaling your perfume, feeling like he was at home again.

“I’m so sorry, princesa. So so sorry. I missed you so much,” he whispered against your cheek, kissing it softly.

“I missed you too, Nando” you said, eyes closed and allowing yourself to just feel him again, “I love you so much.”

You let go, holding his face with both hands, looking into his eyes before kissing him softly. He, on the other hand, held the back of your neck firmly, licking your mouth open, until he had tasted your mouth, leaving you breathless.

“Come back home with me, princesa.”

At that, you took a step back.

“I- I can’t, Nando. I got a new job at the university.”

“What?”

“I thought you weren’t coming back to me,” you muttered, and your words made him wince, “I needed something to hold on to.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” he ran a hand over his face, looking embarrassed for taking so long to come after you.

“I believe we should- we should take a step back, rethink a bit about our dynamic,” you told him, hesitant of his reaction.

“Are you unsure about us?” He asked, visibly worried.

“No, no- I love you- I do-” You started, taking his hand, holding it firmly against yours, “I just think we should rewind a bit. Have my own place and pay my own bills, I just don’t want to feel like that again, I need to regain my dignity in this.”

He kept quiet, because he knew deep down you were right. He felt awful about all the misunderstandings, but he knew you probably felt much, much worse. He should just get on his knees and be thankful you still loved him and still wanted him. He’d take all your conditions to get back with him.

And deep down both of you knew it was for the best. Moving out and living alone, working and seeing him occasionally as a boyfriend. 

Holding your face, he kissed you, leaving little pecks on your lips, your cheeks, your chin, your forehead. You closed your eyes, letting him kiss you, and he muttered how much loved you and how much he missed you, kissing down the side of your neck. He walked you inside and let him, feeling his hands quickly peeling your clothes off, leaving a trail of clothes from the living room to your bedroom.

You parted so you could undress him, pulling at his jacket and the t-shirt.

“I love you, I love you so much,” he mumbled into a kiss, laying you down in bed.

You laid on the bed and he hugged him, making space for him between your legs. He held you, touching your nose with his gently.

“I missed you, princesa,” he kissed your cheek, “I promise I’ll do better from now on.”

“I know you will, baby.” You kissed him again, running your hand down his back, “make love to me now.”

He filled you up at once, and you groaned into his mouth, scratching your nails down his back as you cunt welcomed him. As he fucked into you, slowly at first then picking up pace, he muttered how much he loved you and how sorry he was, over and over.

As you cuddled after, quietly enjoying each other’s company. 

“What do we do about all your gifts?”

“Give them away,” you shrugged.

“Can I convince you to take it back?”

“Not if you still want me in your life,” you muttered. He nodded, placing a gentle kiss on your shoulder.

“You know how I know I love you?” Fernando asked, drawing invisible patterns on your back, “there’s an engagement ring in the third drawer of my bedside table.”

You hesitated for a second, but he knew you well. Better than anyone else.

“I know what you said, I just wanted to let you know. I bought it a week after you moved in with me. I know we’re rewinding a little bit for now, but you’ll be my wife one day.”

“And what if I refuse when you propose?” You smirked, and he pulled your leg over his waist.

“You won’t.”

Note: UGH IDK GUYS :(

#f1 fanfic #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #formula 1 #fernando alonso x you #fernando alonso x reader #fernando alonso #Spotify

[ellecdc]

HI HI i recently read “the winner takes it all” and i was wondering if you’re planning to create a part 2? if you don’t, can i request it with the plot of emmeline trying to win n the boys over, as well as to embarrass the reader, but the boys decided it was the perfect time to hard launch the reader?

BUT IF YOU ALREADY HAVVE A. PLOT IN MIND PLS DONT LISTEN TO ME I LOVE UR FICS!! 💕💕🫶🏻

You know, I actually didn't plan on making a companion piece to this but this was such a fun idea I couldn't help myself - thanks for requesting!!! 💖

*chanting* hard launch, hard launch, hard launch 👏 👏 👏

Poly!Marauders x reader (gender not specified)

The Loser Has to Fall

Companion piece to The Winner Takes It All

It felt like a giant weight had been lifted off your shoulders now that you knew exactly where you stood with the boys. You didn’t realize how deeply it had been distressing you to not know what you meant to them.

Apparently, you meant the world to them.

You spent the rest of that evening in the Gryffindor common room; James and Remus ran down to the kitchens to bring a picnic for you four and Sirius told you to enjoy the princess treatment when you insisted on going with them. You’re pretty sure that was just a ruse to keep you seated in his lap.

You were floating on cloud 9 the entire week afterwards with one of the boys by your side at any given moment. While that wasn’t necessarily new, knowing why they were there made a world of difference. 

You spent hours in the library with Remus sharing shy glances, gentle touches, and sitting far closer to one another than was strictly necessary. 

James and Sirius would show up with food or drinks for you two, but Sirius would eventually convince James to “leave the boring swots to their books, Prongsie” by promising him a race around the quidditch field on their brooms.

James made a solid (and embarrassing) effort to sit beside you everywhere. Great Hall – he sat beside you. Gryffindor common room – he sat beside you. Classes you had together – he sat beside you. Classes you didn’t have together – he tried to sit beside you before Flitwick took five points from Gryffindor and kicked him out.  

And Sirius appeared to simply enjoy your presence. One rarely ever saw Sirius Black without him speaking, smirking, or the likes; but it appeared he enjoyed your company for the solace that it was. Most of your time spent together was in companionable silence, or him asking you to tell him all about your day, your week, your life. James said he was sure this was the longest he'd ever gone without having to listen to Sirius’ voice – Sirius swatted his ass for that.  

But the way the rest of the school saw it: nothing had changed.

Which is why when you watched Emmeline approach the Gryffindor table with a look of determination painting her features, you had to hide your laugh behind your hand.

“Hello, handsome boys.” She said cheerily as she sat beside Sirius. He looked to James sat across from him before his eyes shot to you.

“Hello, Emmeline.” James said politely. 

“Where have you boys been? I feel like I never get to see you anymore.” She carried on, either unaware or undeterred by the boys’ lack of interest.

“Mm, here and there.” James said suspiciously, moving his body so he was sat straddling the bench and facing you, effectively pointing his back to Emmeline.

“Mostly with Y/N.” Sirius added pointedly.

Emmeline grimaced at the mention of your name, but quickly saved face.

“That’s nice. Well, I was wondering if you guys were going to Hogsmeade this weekend?” She asked, voice sickly sweet. 

James seemed to remember something at the mention of Hogsmeade. “Actually, yeah. Moons, you need more chocolate, right?”

Remus blushed a little but nodded in the affirmative. “We’re running low since someone stress ate most of the reserve.” He said pointedly, shooting Sirius a glare.

Apparently, Sirius had been so nervous about asking you to be official (Sirius Black: nervous? Who knew?) that he’d ransacked Rem’s stash.

Sirius – not one to be shame-faced – shrugged with all the nonchalance he could muster. “Don’t worry your pretty little mind, my moonshine – I’ll replenish your reserves and then some.” He declared.

“Great!” Emmeline said with a clap of her hands, clearly unable to manage the conversation as it steered further and further away from her. “I was thinking the four of us could go together!”

She had placed one of her hands on Sirius’ bicep and you felt your face turn red from repressing your laughter. Lily would be losing her mind right now.

Sirius looked at the hand with a look of half confused concern and half disgust before he used the forefinger and thumb of his opposite hand to peel it off of him and place it gingerly onto the table.

“Well, I know that the four of us were going to go.” James clarified as he motioned between himself, Sirius, Remus, and you. “I’m sure Lily, Pete and the others will be going as well, so you’re welcome to ask to tag along with them.” 

Undeterred, Emmeline carried on. “Come on, boys. We used to have a lot of fun together! I thought we could pick up where we left off.” She sing-songed as she sent you a devious wink.

Sirius – with his flair for dramatics – slammed both hands onto the table and stood from his place before hopping onto the table, boots knocking over glasses and plates and reached down for you. 

“What?” You whispered in a little bit of horror.

“Up you go, my love.” He said loudly as he hauled you up to join him on the Gryffindor table. 

“Mr. Black.” You heard one of the professors call from the head table. You never fully understood the phrase die of embarrassment before, but you sure as hell did now. Your gravestone would read: Y/N L/N, gone too soon, killed by dramatic public display of affection.

Sirius, completely oblivious to your horror or thriving off of it (you were sure it was the latter), wrapped one arm around your shoulders and the other around your waist - dipping you so low you were sure your hair was getting into someone’s pancakes - and kissed you in front of the entire Great Hall. 

You could hear cheering and wolf whistles as he kept you suspended for a few moments before he pulled you back up to your full height.

“I am so bloody mad about you.” He shouted out for everyone to hear. More students cheered and whistled as Professor McGonagall shouted “Mr. Black, get down this instant! 15 points from Gryffindor and detention with me tonight.” 

“Worth it.” Sirius said with a smirk as he shot a glance to Emmeline.

“In case that wasn’t clear enough, we’re very taken.” He added with finality as Remus helped you down from your place on the table and Sirius took your previously vacated seat beside James, and Emmeline stalked off.

You shoved your face into Remus’ side as he offered you refuge under his arm.

“Oh, my poor dovey. Did he embarrass you?” He cooed as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head.

You moaned in a way you hoped portrayed a resounding ‘yes’. 

“I’m sorry. They’re the worst sometimes.” He commiserated with you. 

Feeling slightly less flustered, you pulled your head away from his ribs, though you stayed glued safely to his side. 

“You weren’t innocent in all of that, doll face.” Sirius accused you from across the table.

“I beg your pardon?” you asked feigning innocence.

“You knew exactly what she was doing when she came over here. You didn’t feel the need to mark your territory?”

You scoffed. “First of all, I’m not a dog; I don’t ‘mark’ territory. Second, you’re not my territory, you’re my boyfriends. And thirdly… well, you seemed to have handled her fine on your own.” You said as you pointed your nose up in the air.

“Ah, I get it. You just wanted to watch your sexy man turn down a girl by stating how madly in love he is, hm?” He smirked at you.

You suddenly wished you’d stayed in Remus’ rib cage. 

#poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders fluff #marauders ficlet #marauders era #marauders au #marauders fanfiction #marauders blurb #james potter fluff #Sirius black fluff #Remus Lupin fluff #reader insert #self insert #ask elle #ellecdc fics

[18ls]

LEWIS HAMILTON + LANDO NORRIS / REQUEST — you're lewis's wife and lando's celebrity crush.

contains: nsfw content, 3some, very much fake oscars info, oral (m!receiving).

note: this is a fiction piece, do not be that person! just fiction! not the real men! knowing that, enjoy!

you noticed how lando looked at you, lewis too, you two giggled about it in his garage when you saw the mclaren driver pass by. you were wearing a tight compression shirt, with some cargo pants, matching the color of the race suit lewis was wearing.

lewis leaned into you, hand on your lower back. “love, do you see what i see?” you tilt your head, looking his way as you meet his brown eyes.

you grin lazily, “oh yes, little lando’s wandering eyes, as usual.”

lewis gave you a toothy grin, pulling closer to give you a peck on the lips. “you little minx.”

you were a famous actress, an award-winning one. you met lewis in the party after you won your first oscar, the youngest woman to ever win an academy award. lewis approached you, flirty smile and lingering touches.

the rest was history, you two dated for a few years before he proposed, getting married right away because you both were against making it a big show.

the paddock ran wild when you arrived after getting married to lewis, hot shot award-winning actress hand in hand with the 7-time formula one champion, a match made in heaven one would say.

lando would say that.

lando would also say you were the prettiest woman on earth.

and you could never be his.

so the only thing he did was look at you longingly when you visited the paddock. always glued to the mercedes garage, hanging around toto wolff who seemed more than happy to indulge you in any way you needed.

he spoke to you once, he stuttered the entire six minutes the conversation lasted. you were all flirty smiles and lingering touches that left him blushing and more than flustered.

so how come he’s now standing in front of lewis’s hotel room?

he knocks and instantly regrets it. you open the door, only a robe covering your body as you lean on the door frame. “lando norris, good to see you again.”

he gulps, looking you up and down subtly, or so he thinks. you give him a predatory grin, raising an eyebrow and moving aside to let him into the room. lando steps in and sees lewis on the bed, reading a book. he gives lando a smile, but lando knows better than thinking it’s a friendly one.

you close the door and walk to the bed, sitting on the corner of the bed, crossing your legs giving lando a peek of your bare thighs.

lando gulps, not knowing what to do. you give lewis a nudge, and he begrudgingly gets up and walks to lando. “so lando, what’s with this little crush you have on my wife?”

lando freezes, he knows you know, and by default lewis knows too. so he straightens up, “she’s beautiful.”

you laugh, watching lewis smirk as he places one hand on lando’s shoulder, “yeah, that’s true i’ll give you that,” he’s now standing behind lando, watching you from his spot, “what about my wife you like?”

lando feels he’s walking into a trap, but he’s too far gone when he looks at your amused grin. “her smile,” he says dreamily, staring at you, “she’s so pretty.”

lewis chuckles darkly, “is that so?” lewis looks at you and raises an eyebrow, you roll your eyes as you are sat in front of lando on the bed. your fingers reach his belt, loosely holding onto it.

you smile sweetly at him, “lando, do you want me to suck your cock?” lando splutters, and looks at you with wide eyes, he can feel the presence of lewis behind him, looming over as he meets your gaze. “you get once chance, sweetheart.”

lando quickly nods, knowing he only will get a chance like this one time in his life. he looks back at lewis and gulps, “can i?”

lewis chuckles, “if my girl wants, you can.”

you bark a laugh, “oh yes, hell yes i want.” you quickly undo lando’s belt, unzipping his jeans as he helps you get them down his legs, you can see the outline of his half-hard cock under his boxers, twitching at your feather-like touch.

“are you sure, lando?” you hum, meeting his gaze, “you can back out and we can forget about this, no worries.”

lando shakes in excitement, looking down at you feeling his cock twitch. “oh no, not backing down now.” you give him a sharp smile, pulling his boxers down to reveal his hardened cock, he feels the cold touch of your hands on him and he can’t help but shiver.

he feels lewis’s laugh behind him, but his concentration is not on the man standing behind, it’s on you while your hand is stroking his cock and your tongue poking out to lick the head.

lando ascended, that’s the only explanation of why he’s feeling so much right now. your mouth is heavenly on him, you know how to do this and he feels jealousy coursing through him as he thinks how well lewis is taken cared of every day.

you suck his cock eagerly, your other hand reaching to caress his balls, making him jump in place, in consequence choking you slightly.

lewis’s hand on his shoulder tightens, “easy there, champ.” lando gulps and right down cries as you gag on his cock.

this is not real at all, he’s dreaming.

no he’s not, he’s coming down your throat as he lets out a whimper. his eyes are glassy as he looks down at you, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and a lazy grin plastered on your face.

“good?” you ask, still somewhat amused by the man in front of you.

he only can nod, not trusting his voice at the moment.

he jumps when he hears lewis speak again from behind him, “so, ready for a round two, lando?”

#lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x female reader #lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x y/n #lando norris x reader #lando norris x you #lando norris x y/n #lando norris x female reader #lewis hamilton smut #lando norris smut #f1 x reader #f1 x female reader #f1 x you #f1 x y/n

[sadhours]

READING FOR PLEASURE

billy hargrove x f!reader

a/n: this was inspired by @billyhargrovetitties story Cruel Summer, if you haven’t read it… you must. I am obsessed with it.

summary: billy finds your romance novel and teases you about it

warnings; 18+ minors dni, pure smut, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v, billy doesn’t pull out and he panics, oops 🙊

When you return to your bedroom, Billy’s laid out on the bed, on his stomach and propping his head up with his elbow. It’s a cute sight, makes your stomach flip and fill with butterflies as a dirty blonde curl falls in the center of his forehead. You smile warmly and then glance down to see he’s got the romance novel you’d hidden in your bedside table spread out before him and he’s reading it with this all too satisfied grin on his face. When he gazes towards you, the grin meets his eyes, crinkling them up.

“Found your porn stash,” he teases, closing the cover but keeping his fingers tucked into the page he was on. “A Gentle Feuding,” he reads the title out loud with this exaggerated wistfulness to his voice and you know your face is all kinds of shades of crimson. You hope Billy hadn’t noticed the man portrayed on the cover somewhat resembles him, blonde and tan, and that’s why you’d picked the novel in the first place.

“It’s historical,” you lamely reason, lunging forward to grab the book from him but Billy’s reflexes are as quick as a cats. He pulls it out of your fingertips and you attempt to snatch it again, but he pulls it back and you go toppling over him. Billy uses the leverage to flip the both of you over and he’s straddling your waist, holding the book over his head when you reach towards it.

“Historical filth,” he counters, cheeks a little flush from the shuffle of your bodies but that grin permanently smeared on his face.

“Billy,” you whine, “Give it here. It’s embarrassing…”

As you raise your hands to grab it again, Billy grabs your wrists with his right hand and holds them down against your chest. Your whole body feels tight with humiliation and you choke back the tears forming in your eyes. God, you could be such a baby sometimes.

That’s why Billy liked you, though. You acted like such a good girl all the time, he was relieved to find the raunchy book because it let him know that deep down, you were a little vixen and his attempts to draw it out of you had been mostly failures. You two had already slept together, just one time and whenever it came to fooling around, you were so shy.

“This thing is worn,” he comments, looking over the novel in his hand, “How many times have you read it?”

“None of your beeswax,” you huff, “Give it here, Billy. Seriously!”

As you plead, you squirm under his grip, trying to get your arms free so you can rip the book from his hand and maybe destroy it. You haven’t decided, you’re so incredibly embarrassed but it is one of your favorites.

Billy tilts his head ever so slightly, “Should I read some of it to you?”

“No!” you shriek, eyes widening up at him but a part of you is very intrigued. Billy’s voice is like honey, the timbre of it is deliciously low like it comes deep from his throat. You’re suddenly very interested in hearing him read it out loud but you’re still full of shame that he’s found the book. Your hiding place wasn’t very good but enough that your parents or siblings hadn’t found it. Of course, Billy is far snoopier than they are and you should’ve anticipated that when you went to pee, he would be going through your things.

Billy places the book down and moves your wrists to your sides, adjusting his legs so he can pin your arms underneath them. He smiles at you, retrieving the book again and flipping to the first page he’s dog-eared.

“Ya know, there’s a lot of like, bullshit in this book,” he muses, “They don’t even fuck until like almost the end of the book. And then after that it’s like more blah blah blah—“

“It’s called plot,” you argue, voice shakier than you meant for.

The blonde snorts, peering down at you, “I can get you some magazines, ya know? You don’t have to do any reading to get to the good part.”

“I don’t read it for the…” you can’t bring yourself to say the word.

“The filth? Really?” he hums, “I find that hard to believe.”

“It’s true,” you lie, wriggling beneath him.

Billy licks his lips, “Let’s see… oh, here’s where it starts getting good; ‘His hand goes somewhere unexpected. Lydia’s eyes widen as the duke’s warm, strong hand smoothes up her milky, white thighs.’.”

“Billy,” you warn, eyebrows knitting closer. It’s as sexy as you imagined but you didn’t entirely anticipate Billy would be so good at reading aloud, it’s almost like he’s practiced with it. He doesn’t stumble over any of the words like you do when you have to read aloud in class.

“Shh,” he shushes you around a smug smirk, “‘Her liquid desire seeps out as he ruffles her petticoat up to her waistline,’ Liquid desire. I like that. Clever way to say she’s wet.”

“Stop!” you protest but the words are purging your own ‘liquid desire’ and you’d rather Billy not have the satisfaction.

“Spicy stuff here. But then the dude only fingers her,” Billy complains with a disappointed frown and flips to the second page he’s dog-eared. “Ah, here we go, I really love this line: ‘Lydia writhes against Arthur but her body freezes as she feels his hardened cock pressed against her stomach.’” He lets out a short laugh, “They actually wrote cock. That’s hilarious.”

You raise an eyebrow, “What word would you use?”

“Cock, definitely, but it’s not a classy word. I thought they’d say like penis or something,” he retorts, biting his lip as he looks to your flushed face.

“Penis isn’t a sexy word,” you argue and feel yourself squirm against him, not because you want him to stop but you want to keep him under the impression you do.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Billy agrees and then asks, “Cock turns you on, though?”

Billy’s sorely mistaken if he thinks you’ll admit to that, no matter how true it is. You shoot him an annoyed look and he clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He always does that so loud, you’re left impressed each time. You’d tried to do it as loud as he does on nights when you’re bored and alone but it’s never quite as good.

“Lemme see…” his eyes scan the worn pages, “Ooh, this I like: ‘She gyrated the softest part of her against the hardest of him.’”

You also liked that line, it made you think of Billy every time you read it.

“Also, do these chicks ever write about small dicks? They’ve mentioned how huge this duke is like twelve times,” he wonders aloud, lifting the book so he can look down at you.

“Sympathetic?” you bite back, wanting to tease Billy for how he’s teasing you.

“Oh, honey,” he chuckles, “you and I both know damn well I ain’t small.”

“Then they’re representing you,” you point out with a wavering smile.

Billy tsks, and then lets out a giggle, thumbing through the pages again. As he finds a particularly dirty passage and begins reading it, you can see his pants tightening over his crotch. You raise an eyebrow, flicking your eyes back up to his face but Billy is too distracted by the words he’s reading to notice.

“Well, well, well,” you say in a teasing tone.

He averts his eyes, seeing that his hard-on is pretty damn obvious in his jeans and you’ve got the perfect view of it. He actually blushes, the reddening hiding his freckles and he closes the book, tossing it behind him as he gazes down at you with his nose scrunched up.

“What?”

“You seem to like it, Billy,” you purr, not trying to suppress the giggle rising from your throat.

“Shut up,” he grumbles, scooting back and releasing your arms. They’ve kind of gone numb from the position under his legs but you don’t mind, you enjoyed every second of it. “If I reach in your pants, you’re gonna be just as obnoxiously turned on.”

“I’m the one who owns the book, Billy,” you challenge with a pleased smirk.

“So you admit it then, you read it for the filth,” he quips.

“I’ll admit that if you admit it gave you a boner.”

“I think that’s pretty obvious,” he mumbles, positioning himself between your legs and hooking his fingers into the elastic band of your sweats. He pulls them down and you lift your legs to help expel them. Billy tosses them to the floor and spreads your thighs, biting his lip as he brushes his knuckles against your clothed heat. A raspy moan is ripped from you, back arching as his knuckle brushes against your aching clit.

“Oh, Billy…”

“I can just see that ‘liquid desire’ soaking through your panties,” he muses, voice rough but the term brings a laugh from the both of you. It also makes you that much wetter.

“Oh my god,” you mutter through the laugh, “You’re never gonna let that go.”

Billy hums, pushing his nose against where his knuckles just were, “Don’t think you really want me to.” His breath tickles the skin where your thigh meets your pelvis and you inhale sharply. Your thighs tingle, heat rising up them and it’s almost overwhelming. Then you feel Billy’s stubble against the flesh of your thigh and his teeth follow, biting at your skin lightly. Your body jolts at the touch and your thighs open even wider, urging Billy to return his movements to where you want him most. His lips curl up as he rests his cheek against your inner thigh, eyes peering up at you. His pupils are so dilated, you can barely see the ocean blue around them.

“I want you,” he admits, smoothing his palm over your core and resting his fingertips against your pubic bone.

The admission draws a deep moan from you because he looks so adorable between your legs but the palm on you and the words make you desire him so deeply it almost hurts. Billy wants you. The idea itself makes your thighs tremble and your hands shoot down to rake your fingers through his dirty blonde curls.

“You have me,” you breathe but wonder how you look at his perspective and it forces you to prop yourself up on your elbows, wanting to look as pretty for him as possible.

“Can I have you?” he asks, pushing his palm harder against your center.

“Yes, Billy,” you pant out.

He sits back up, peeling your underwear off of you and then settling back down between your legs. He kisses tenderly at your thighs, brushing the tip of his finger against your dripping hole. The noise that pushes from your lips is desperate yet a thankful noise, you’ve been wanting Billy to touch you like this since he straddled you earlier. He makes a surprised but happy sound in return, swiping his tongue against your labia experimentally. The warm, wetness of it is welcomed while it’s not distinctly pleasurable, it feels really nice. His single digit penetrates you slowly while he continues to lick your pussy lips. It’s excruciating, but you know he’s doing it with purpose. The first time Billy had touched you intimately, he done the same. Teasing you with touches that were close to where you wanted but not quite there. You’d come to learn that Billy wanted you to plead and beg for him. Which you weren’t exactly confident doing yet. You still felt reserved and a little shame in asking for what you wanted. That’s presumably what got your boyfriend off: pushing you out of your comfort zone and breaking down those societal expectations.

“Billy,” you whine out, tugging at his curls.

“What?” he asks like he knows exactly what you want, a smile present in his voice.

You flush, you weren’t going to get the relief unless you explicitly requested it. You knew this and it makes your throat tighten and your mouth feel dry, tongue heavy in your mouth. You chew on your lower lip as you muster up the courage to put your desire into words.

“Not enough,” you whisper, timidly, “I want more.”

“More?” he pouts up at you, “Tell me what more means.”

“Lick…” you flush, closing your eyes as you try to gain the confidence.

“Lick what?”

“My pussy,” you breathe out, pulling his hair gently.

“I am,” he smirks, “You want me to lick here?” He presses the tip of his tongue to your clit and your head falls back against the mattress,

“Yes!”

He hums and then flicks his tongue against the sensitive bud, the fingers of his left hand digging into your thigh. It’s warm and oh so wonderful as he puts his mouth entirely on you, licking through your folds before focusing on your clit and lapping against it, nose brushing against the curls above your center. You bite down on your lip hard enough to draw blood. The two of you are completely alone for at least another few hours but you’re accustomed to keeping quiet, trying to keep your pants and moans of pleasure at a reasonable volume. Billy’s tongue proves to make it difficult. It’s just as fit as the rest of his body.

“Lemme,” he grunts as he pulls away, pushing your top up your chest and he exhales when your chest is exposed. You’d intentionally skipped putting your bra on today, knowing Billy was coming over. He palms at your breasts, squeezing gently as he moves up to suck hour nipple into his mouth. It feels amazing, not nearly as great as his mouth on your pussy but this is a little more intimate. You can see him better up here, how pink and plump his lips are and the way his eyelashes curl. Billy is single handedly the most attractive person you’ve laid eyes on and here he is, mouthing at your chest.

“Baby…” you whimper as he adds a second finger inside of you.

It’s all a little overwhelming but feels too damn good to stop. You’re in too deep, you’d follow Billy like a lamb to slaughter. As his fingers curl up and drag against your spongy spot, you cry out. You don’t know how much more you can take, suddenly desperate to feel his cock filling you up and stretching you out in the most beautiful way. It’ll be your second time of what you hope to be a life full of.

“Want—“ you gasp, grabbing onto his sleeve. “Want you so bad, Billy.”

He smirks up at you before sitting back on his heels. He pulls his Henley over his head and placing it next to your body. You reach out and feel the contours of his muscular pecs, brushing the pads of your fingertips against his stiff nipple. He’s like one of those Greek statues, sculpted beautifully but unlike the marble, his skin is so soft. He bites the side of his lower lip as he smiles, his eyes squinting with the expression. He’s so damn beautiful, your heart swells.

“You’re…” the compliment dies on your tongue as you suddenly feel demure.

“I’m what?” he breathes, anticipation present in his drawl.

“Everything,” you admit, bashfully.

You think you see him blush, you can’t be sure because Billy’s leaning down to kiss you. It’s a dizzying kiss, you rock your hips up with it as he pulls desire out of you. You meant it, he’s everything to you, everything for you. He’s it for you and if he’s not, there’s gonna be a helluva heartbreak. No one has been so easy to be around. Billy’s like your best friend, he makes you laugh and cry and cum. What the hell else do you ever need besides this man above you?

“Fuck,” he curses, hand on your shoulder as he pulls away, “My dicks so fucking hard it hurts.”

The complaint is nothing but a masked compliment. You widen your legs, moving your hands down to his hips so you can grind up against his clothed erection. “Need you,” you inform him breathlessly.

“You have me,” he smirks, smoothing his thumb against your cheekbone. “Can I fuck you?”

You know he asks because it’s only the second time it’s happening, or could be. You decided long ago that you wanted it, but he doesn’t know that.

“Need you to,” you counter, the walls breaking down slowly. Billy is good at urging the desperation out of you. You're sure he could persuade you into murder, or something nearly as awful.

Billy grunts, pulling away long enough to rid himself of his jeans and boxers. His cock sprouts up and slaps against his abs, angrily hard and you notice his tip is leaking more than you’ve seen before. Your mouth waters at the sight but you’re too eager to blow him. You’re clenching simply at the sight and promise of him burying his cock inside your fluttering cunt. Billy crashes his lips against yours, the shaft of his cock rubs against your soaking pussy and it draws a mutual groan from the two of you. Perhaps you can write a letter to the author of the novel, express your gratitude for it being the source of this very charged moment between you and your stunning boyfriend. You even consider writing your own spicy story about him, he’s damn good inspiration. If you ever write a memoir, you hope and pray that Billy is a lasting role in it.

“Billy,” you plead against his bruising lips.

He grabs your jaw with his left hand while he grabs a hold of his cock with his right, hissing as he runs his tip through your folds. Your body shakes under his touch, hips rocking up ruthlessly from the electricity his movements bring. The romance you read is exciting but can’t compare to his in any way. You’d much rather have him in your bed every night instead of reading until you can’t handle it and hump against your pillow in search of relief. This is tenfold better.

“That feel good?” he inquires, voice hoarse. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He says the last bit like he can’t believe it and you reel from it, reveling in the fact that you can turn Billy on just by reacting to him naturally. The carnal desire in you evaporates every wall you’ve ever built up. There’s no shame left in you as you tell him, “S’all cause of you…”

“Yeah? Am I better than the book?” he asks, circling his tip against the rim of your aching entrance.

“Picture you when I’m reading it,” you pant out the confession, eyes falling shut as his hips jerk forward from your words, his tip penetrating you in an easy, fluid motion.

“Touch yourself at the thought of me?” his voice is so hoarse and the sound of it has you clenching around him. He obviously notices it but the whine that pushes passed his lips.

“Always…”

“Fuck,” he exhales, slipping deeper inside your tight cunt. His girth is a shock, but a good one. It’s only the second time. Your fingers and also his, don’t compare. But you’re thoroughly aroused and you swallow his length easily. The burn is dull and adds to the pleasure. He continues, “That’s so fucking hot.”

His face in contorted in concentration and arousal, “The thought of you fingering this tight pussy—“ he grunts, “Thinking about me fucking you.”

“This is better,” you moan, grabbing onto his bicep as he bottoms out, balls warm against your skin.

“I think about you too,” he says between clenched teeth, “When I jerk off…”

It makes your head feel heavy, you’re totally honored. The image of Billy in his bed, pulling at his cock while your name tumbles from his lips makes your hips rock forward repeatedly. He makes a whiny noise and your eyes open, wanting to see it happen again. He’s a goddamn vision, sweating above you with curls sticking to his forehead. Goddamn, he’s so intoxicatingly sexy. Sometimes you get this overwhelming urge to grab onto his face and you indulge in it now, hands pressed against his each side of his head while he pounds into you. His eyes are intense as he stares back at you, these delicious little grunts and moans leaving his lips. The room is spinning, Billy’s eyes are so consuming it feels like he’s devouring you. You’re entranced, bodies writhing against each other while you both chase a high only the other can guarantee.

“Billy—“ you choke out, “I’m.. I’m gonna…”

You can’t finish the thought as he drills into you, his hands grabbing your hips and angling them up so he drives against your g-spot with every thrust.

“Cum?” he offers, voice throaty and hoarse. “You gonna cum for me, babygirl?”

“Ahh…” you try to tell him yes but the waves of the orgasm make it impossible as it thrashes through you, your ankles crossing behind his back as he pounds into you.

The pistons of his hips are unrelenting, you’d be impressed with his stamina if you weren’t being dragged through the most demanding orgasm you’ve ever had. You’re loud, the sound of your voice is foreign, rough and guttural. Billy seems to like it, his eyebrows rising before furrowing as he pins your hips against the mattress and bucks into you brutally. His face is scrunched up and these high pitched, pretty and desperate noises he makes are so wonderfully delicious. His movements freeze and you feel his warm completion fill you up.

“Billy…” you moan at the sensation, it’s unlike anything you’ve felt and he collapses on top of you, a panting mess as his lips find yours. The kisses are frantic and sloppy. You’re not even certain they could classify as kisses. Then his eyes are wide and he’s lifting himself up.

“Fuck, oh shit,” his voice is full of panic, “Oh, god, I’m sorry.”

You’re close to passing out, but you manage to ask, “For what?”

“I came inside you,” he explains, eyes wide.

“Mhm… felt so good,” you mumble, not able to care about his terror in the aftershocks of your orgasm.

“I didn’t mean to… fuck,” he breathes against your cheek, “Gonna have to.. get a plan B.”

“Billy,” you sigh happily as you wrap your arms around him, “Mmm… feels so good.”

He relaxes at the realization that you’re not pissed at him and for a second, he lets himself revels in the fact that he’s just cum inside you and how amazing it felt. He gasps softly, “So good…”

#billy hargrove x female reader #billy hargrove x y/n #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove #billy hargrove smut #billy hargrove x f!reader #billy hargrove fanfiction #billy hargrove x reader

[moonlightspencie]

you should see the things we do, baby

Description: Remus and Reader decide to take advantage of teasing Sirius, and it leads to a lot more than a dirty dream. (Part 2 to this drabble)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x fem!Reader x Sirius Black (not wolfstar unless you count a few comments from sirius lol)

Warnings: oh boy (18+ only!): p in v, oral (fem receiving), threesome and a trip to paris, big dick!remus, teasing, kind of dom!remus, sirius is shy for once

Word Count: 5.2k words

A/N: this was supposed to be a DRABBLE. also i don’t write smut like ever so pls be nice to me

A week had passed, and Sirius’ embarrassment had yet to subside. In fact, it was only made worse as he had two more dreams with a very similar subject matter.

It was terrible. It was exhilarating.

Sirius had never had problems finding someone to satisfy his needs whenever they arose, but dreaming of you caused a whole new slew of problems. It seemed like no matter what he did or who he tried to flirt with, you were still on his mind.

It was made far worse by the fact that Remus knew about his dirty little secret and had been relentlessly teasing him about it. Every chance he got, he’d show you off or pack on the PDA in front of poor Sirius, chuckling into your skin when the usually-suave Sirius would turn pink and need to look away.

Your suspicions in all of this only grew.

You sat with Remus in the bedroom he had at the place he shared with Sirius. So far, you’d only been reading side-by-side, everything being fairly innocent. That is, until an idea popped into your head.

“Love?”

Remus hummed in question.

“What’s going on with Siri lately? I know something is up.”

Remus shrugged, not putting his book down. “Not sure, darling.”

You narrowed your eyes, setting your book down on the nightstand. You turned to look at him more fully.

“I don’t like when you lie to me.”

He huffed. “Darling, it’s really nothing. You don’t need to worry about it.”

“But I am worried,” you whined. “He’s been acting so strangely around me lately. I know that you know what’s happened, too.”

“How do you know that?” he asked with a soft smile, finally setting his book off to the side.

“Because I know you, my dear,” you said, nuzzling into his neck. “Please tell me?”

“I can’t, love,” he responded, a hand coming to rest on your back.

You groaned, lifting your face. You set a hand on his thigh, rubbing against his leg softly. You pressed a soft kiss to his jaw.

“Baby, please? I’ll make it worth your while.”

He smirked. “Yeah?”

You nodded with an innocent smile, moving your hand up his leg slowly.

“Promise.”

“You say that like I’m not the one who’d have you begging for it in a minute,” he said, voice suddenly low and gravely.

You swallowed, knowing he was right, but unwilling to admit defeat just yet. You merely turned, pouting to yourself as you pulled your hands away. Then, you hid a smirk as a new idea came into your head.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you said, standing suddenly and moving towards the bathroom door.

You turned on the faucet to let the water heat up, walking back into Remus’ bedroom and straight to his closet. You started undressing, only taking one of his shirts off the hanger for after your shower once you were fully bare in front of him. You hadn’t yet turned around, reaching for a towel, but you could feel his eyes on you.

You sent him an innocent smile as you walked past the bed, right back into the bathroom with the door wide open. If he could hide things from you, you figured you could tease him as much as you’d like.

“You can join me if you want to spill the truth, love,” you called out, turning on the shower head and stepping under the stream.

It was a while before you finally heard him get off the bed, and a smile spread to your face. You heard the curtain open, not bothering to look in his direction.

“Don’t even think about coming in here unless you’re going to tell me what’s happened.”

“Darling. You’re being unfair.”

“I’m being perfectly fair,” you said, turning to him at last.

You had to admit, it was hard to turn him down when he was stripped down in front of you, asking to get in the shower alongside you. Few things sounded better than getting your hands all over his pretty body under the shower stream. But one of those few things just happened to be knowing that secret the boys were keeping from you. You shook your head at him when he pouted at you.

“All you have to do is tell me what’s wrong,” you shrugged nonchalantly.

He swallowed, looking you up and down.

“If I tell, you have to promise you won’t say anything to Pads.”

You smirked. “Whatever you say, love.”

He hopped in, shutting the curtain behind him with a cheesy grin, pulling you in for a heated kiss immediately. You let him have that, kissing him back, feeling him grow harder against your stomach from the contact. You sucked his lip into your mouth, letting it go with a pop.

“Tell me, then we keep going, yeah?”

“Siri had a sex dream about you. Feels real awkward about it, now.”

You raised a brow. “That’s it?”

He nodded. “But he’s terribly embarrassed about it. It’s why he’s been acting like that with you. Doesn’t know how to act now.”

“Why not?”

“Well, speaking from experience, darling,” he started, pressing another kiss to your lips, “once you get the picture of you all bare and begging in your head, it’s hard to get it out.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “I find it hard to believe I’d have that strong an effect on anyone. Especially from a dream.”

“You’d be surprised,” he mumbled, capturing your lips again.

He let his hand trail down your body, rubbing at that little bundle of nerves in the way that made your knees weak instantly. He knew your body better than anyone, and he loved proving it to you over and over again. You tried to get into it, holding onto him tightly, but you found yourself preoccupied with questions.

“What is it, baby?” Remus asked against your neck, leaving soft kisses to your skin. “You’re distracted.”

“Just confused, is all, Rem,” you said, a little breathless from the contact he was making.

He hummed. “Why? You thinking about what it’d be like getting fucked by Sirius, now?”

You scoffed. “No. Just wanna know why it’s such a big deal for him.”

“You’re gorgeous, doll,” he said, letting out a small noise at your hand around his cock. “Surprised it took him this long to realize he’d like a go at you.”

You sighed, a whimper leaving you as his hand moved faster. He was clearly enjoying every bit of this.

“Sounds like you like the idea of it,” you quipped.

He chuckled lowly, bucking his hips into your hand. Your head fell against the tile in the shower, though he didn’t let you rest for long. He pulled away from your hand, lining himself up with your entrance instead.

“Maybe I do.”

He pushed inside of you, picking you up and pushing you against the shower wall as he rammed his hips into yours.

“Maybe I like the idea of watching you squirm on my cock with Sirius down your throat. Using that pretty mouth of yours,” he groaned into your ear. “Let him get a little preview of what it’s like to be with you in real life— not just in his dreams, yeah?”

You whined, the effect of his words making you plummet towards your climax at a rapid speed. He slapped your clit quickly, making your body jerk.

“You can pretend you don’t like that idea, but I can feel you clenching around me when I talk about it,” he said, looking you in the eye again with a mischievous grin. “No use lying to me, darling.”

“Remus…”

“What, darling? Tell me.”

“Fuck,” you whined, head dropping to his shoulder. “M’gonna… I-I’m—”

“I know, baby,” he said, getting a bit out of breath himself as he pounded you into the wall. “You can let go for me.”

You held onto his shoulders for dear life, coming hard around him, your eyes squeezed shut at the feeling. He didn’t let up his pace until he was spilling inside of you, barely holding you up as he did.

“Did so good, love,” he mumbled, kissing your forehead gently. “Good girl.”

You smiled softly, blushing every time he praised you, even after years together. He let you down onto shaky legs.

“Thank you, Rem.”

He furrowed his brows with a small smile. “For what?”

“Making me come like that,” you said, a little sheepish. “Best one in a while.”

“Naughty girl,” he growled playfully into your ear, nipping at the lobe. “Getting off on the idea of fucking our best friend.”

“Remus,” you groaned, pushing him away a little. “Stop it.”

“It’s okay, darling,” he said, brushing a thumb across your cheek. “You know I’m just teasing. But if you ever wanted to—”

You raised a brow, unsure how much of this was really a joke. He cracked a smile, rolling his eyes mockingly.

“I’m not going to push you to do anything, but I don’t think that Sirius would mind it. I know I wouldn’t.”

“Since when have you ever wanted to share me?”

He shrugged, turning to shut off the water that started growing colder. He stepped out, wrapping a towel around his waist, and then tucking you into one as well, helping you out of the shower. He hugged you to his chest, slowly drying you off in his arms.

“I never wanted to before. Then,” he tilted his head, looking at you with stars in his eyes, “he told me about that dream. Thought it might be fun to share you, just a little. I also thought you might like the idea.”

“Why’s that?”

“Know you love to be all filled up,” he smirked. “What better way to get you full from both ends than with a friend?”

You laugh, dropping your head on his chest. “You’re gross.”

“You love it.”

“I love you. Not so much when you’re being all icky.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You liked it enough when I was fucking you against the wall, yeah?”

Your cheeks heated up, a shy smile on your face.

“Sweet girl,” he cooed. “Alright, I’m all done, now, my darling. We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.”

You sighed. “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just—”

He paused. “What is it, love?”

“I don’t even know how we’d, like…” you groaned. “This is so weird to even talk about.”

He smiled softly, leaning down to press a delicate kiss against your lips.

“If you want me to, I can do all the talking,” he whispered. “You just sit with me and be your usual pretty self. Just so he knows I’m not screwing with him.”

You looked up at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, voice soft. “Whatever you want, darling. Anything for you.”

You smiled. “Alright.”

“Alright? You want to?”

You nodded, and his smile grew. He kissed you again, then kissed your forehead. Then your cheek. Then your other cheek. Then your jaw, and eventually all over your face until you were a giggling mess.

“Okay,” you surrendered. “Okay, Rem, all done. Come on.”

You took his hand, pulling him back into the bedroom.

“Nap first, cause you fucked all my energy out,” you said, an accusatory finger pointed in his direction. He paid no mind, giving you a cocky smirk. “Then dinner, then… We’ll talk.”

He nodded. “Alright, princess.”

Sirius sat around most of the day, his nerves inexplicably on edge no matter what he did. He couldn’t place why he felt so anxious, but it just kept building. Up until after dinner time, it didn’t make any sense— but then, it started making a lot of sense.

You were all in the living room together once again, in what would normally be a comfortable silence as music played softly. However, Sirius was anything but comfortable.

Once again, you were perched on Remus’ lap, letting him run his hands all over you like nobody else was around. It had become more of a habit over the past week. Though, your teasing smile every time Siri caught your gaze was new.

He flushed each time your eyes met his, giving him a smile or a wink that he was certain he wasn’t imagining. It made him horribly nervous that you knew something. It also excited him more than he’d like to admit.

He had committed to not touching himself when he thought of you, and so far he had been true to his promise to himself. But that didn’t mean it wasn’t absolute torture with how often you’d been occupying his mind. It seemed that every time he tried to… be alone with himself, you’d pop into his brain. To put it shortly: he was on edge in every sense of the word.

He tried not to watch you and Remus, knowing Remus was merely teasing him for his dream, but every man has a breaking point.

His came when Remus bit down softly on your neck, and you let out a little whimper. It was horribly close to what he’d imagined in his dreams, and he found his pants growing a bit tight and uncomfortable. It only worsened when he looked up to see your eyes trained on him as Remus attacked your neck with lips and teeth, not bothering to be polite in front of his housemate. You smiled softly, a glimmer in your eye as you locked your gaze on Sirius. It took a great deal of control to look away from you, and he mentally patted himself on the back when he finally did.

“Not enjoying the show, Pads?” Remus asked teasingly.

“Shut up,” he grumbled.

“Aww,” you cooed. “What happened to my sassy Siri? You’re usually so forward and flirtatious. Why change now?”

His eyes widened, and he looked between you and Remus. You both wore eerily similar smirks, and suddenly he felt his mouth dry up. He leveled his gaze at Remus.

“You didn’t.”

Remus raised his brows. “Didn’t what?”

“You told her, didn’t you?”

“She can be very convincing,” he offered.

Sirius groaned. “You’re unbelievable. I ask you to keep one secret…”

“Come on, Siri, there’s no reason to be embarrassed,” you said, adjusting your position in Remus’ lap. “I won’t blame you for having a dream.”

He sighed, not meeting your eye. He shook his head.

“I don’t get embarrassed.”

“What do you call those red cheeks of yours, then?” you teased.

He turned his glare to you. “Not funny, angel.”

“Still calling me by pet names, though,” you smiled, turning to Remus. “You wanna ask, now?”

“You two need to stop this. It’s not fair,” Sirius shook his head, staring at the both of you, unamused.

“Done teasing, Pads,” Remus said, moving you on his lap to get a better view of his friend. “I have a real question for you, now.”

Sirius looked on, curious but cautious. He raised a brow in question.

“We were talking earlier, and, well, after that dream of yours,” Remus began.

Sirius cut him off. “Right, I’m done then.”

He started moving to get out of his seat.

“Sit down,” Remus said, furrowing his brow. “Just listen.”

Sirius huffed, plopping back down. He crossed his arms, and you held back a chuckle at his little show of annoyance. You leaned into Remus’ chest as he started talking again.

“We want to invite you to be with us for the night,” he said plainly.

Sirius gaped for a moment, then quickly shut his mouth, setting his face hard.

“S’not funny, Mooney,” he said, then looked at you with an equally severe look. “And I expect better from you.”

Your eyes went a little wider. “We’re not joking, Siri.”

He looked between the two of you, unsure. His cheeks were tinted red as he tried to formulate a response. You merely quirked a brow, hoping it would settle in for him that you weren’t lying. It was taking far too long for your liking, evidently.

“What happened to you being all snarky and smooth? Blushing and stumbling over us asking you to come to bed,” you said, shaking your head.

Remus snorted behind you, pressing his face into your neck.

“You’re one to talk, love,” Sirius retorted quickly. “I couldn’t send a wink your way years ago without you going red.”

“So defensive, Padfoot,” Remus tutted. “If you don’t want to—”

“No,” Sirius responded, too quickly. “No, I just… If you two are playing some prank on me—”

“We’re not,” Remus said with finality.

Sirius let out a breath, his gaze lingering on you before he finally nodded.

“Yeah. Yeah, okay,” he cleared his throat, throwing on a smirk. “Maybe it’ll get those dreams out my head, yeah?”

“Maybe,” you said with a smile. “Maybe it’ll make them worse.”

He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Don’t know if I can handle that.”

You smiled to yourself, standing and taking Remus’ hand in yours. “Come on, love.”

He stood with you, glued to you as you started walking towards his bedroom, but not before you turned to Sirius and sent him a wink. He raised his brows, unsure if he should get up and follow.

“You’re supposed to come too, Siri,” you called out behind you.

He nodded to himself, taking in a quick breath as he followed after you both. His heart pounded in his chest as you all stepped into the bedroom. He knew he was still blushing, but couldn’t quite stop himself. He never got nervous about sex, but this felt entirely different that anything he’d done before. He rubbed his palms against his pants, trying to appear confident, though he knew he was probably failing miserably.

He watched as you walked up to him, taking his hand and pulling him towards the bed as Remus lingered near the mattress with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“Don’t be nervous,” you said quietly, instructing him to sit down on the bed.

He watched with wide eyes and a bitten lip as Remus spun you around, kissing you more intensely than Sirius had ever witnessed before. He felt that discomfort in his pants growing again, watching your body fully pressed against Remus’ as you let him explore your mouth until you were entirely breathless. Remus pulled away from you, pressing one last soft peck to your lips.

“Just want to remind you who you belong to before we start this,” he smirked. “Go on, show him what those pretty lips feel like.”

You leaned up, unable to stop yourself from kissing him once more before turning to Siri. You sat on the bed next to him, facing him.

“This okay?” you asked quietly.

“Definitely,” he nodded.

You rested one hand on his leg, leaning in slowly until he met you halfway. You nipped at his lip, not quite kissing him, yet. Luckily for you, he took that as a sign to make the first move. You smiled into the kiss: he was clearly desperate as he pressed his lips to yours intensely, scooting closer to you on the mattress. You licked softly at the crease between his lips, slipping your tongue into his mouth when he opened up for you. You felt Remus’ hand stroke through your hair as you let his best friend kiss you deeply. One of your hands moved up to Siri’s jaw, stroking his skin softly.

“That’s my girl,” Remus said softly, his voice giving away his arousal. “So good, darling.”

You peeked your eyes open, looking up at him for a moment as you moved your lips to Sirius’ neck. He gave you a soft smile, letting you take full control of the situation, even when he clearly wanted to. You reached up with the hand you had against Sirius’ face to trail up Remus’ leg and towards the noticeable bulge in his pants. He licked his lips, moving his hips a bit closer to you. Sirius sighed softly in your ear when you dragged your teeth against a particularly sensitive spot on his neck.

“Come on, darling,” Remus said, pulling you away from Sirius and up to your feet.

You looked at him expectantly, understanding his impatience more when he started tugging at your top. You let him take it off of you, hearing a hard breath come out of Sirius when he saw that you didn’t have anything under the shirt. Remus turned you towards Sirius, pressing open-mouthed kisses all down your neck.

“Isn’t she pretty, Pads?” he asked against your skin.

Sirius swallowed, nodding. “Very.”

He leaned back on the mattress, palming the bulge in his pants as he watched your chest rise and fall from Remus’ lips on you. You smirked when Remus trailed his hands up your torso, Sirius’ eyes following every movement carefully, before landing on your breasts. You pushing your hips back into Remus, making him groan softly at the friction against his still-clothed member. You thought it was only fair with how he squeezed at the flesh of your tits, playing with your nipples until you couldn’t hold back your noises anymore.

You were breathing heavily, your eyes fluttering open when Remus’ hands started retreating. You looked at Sirius who hadn’t pulled his eyes from you the entire time. You reached for him.

“Siri,” you said, pulling his hands to you.

He let his fingertips explore your exposed skin, leaning up to capture one of your nipples between his lips. You whimpered softly at the contact of his wet mouth against your irritated skin, your hand threading through his hair. You only stopped when you felt Sirius’ movements stop, his mouth barely against you as he glanced over your shoulder.

“Damn, Mooney,” he said, eyes wide. “Didn’t know you were… How was I the womanizer in school?”

You looked behind you, smiling at your now-bare boyfriend in all his glory. You couldn’t blame Sirius for being impressed— He had, by far, the biggest dick you’d ever seen personally. You were practically convinced he wouldn’t fit inside of you the first time you saw him.

“I was too busy chasing after this one,” he said, nodding towards you, leaving you blushing. “Not that big, anyways.”

“Not that…” Sirius started, trailing off. “Mate, I can’t stop staring. How have you gotten through life like that?”

You snorted a laugh. “Alright, stop staring at my boyfriend’s cock.”

“It’s impressive,” Sirius said simply, raising a brow as he looked on before turning his gaze away and towards your face. “No wonder you’re always trying to shag.”

You felt Remus behind you, pressing himself fully against your backside. “Helps that she’s just as impressive.”

Sirius swallowed, suddenly feeling overly dressed as he watched Remus tug your pants down your legs, leaving you in a pair of black panties.

“Wait till you feel her mouth, Pads,” Remus said, nipping at your shoulder. He then spoke into your ear. “Why don’t you help him out of those clothes, darling?”

You obliged with a shake of your head and smile. Sirius shot you a cocky smirk as you pulled his sweater over his head.

“Stand,” you instructed, to which he quickly obeyed.

You pulled his pants down, smiling to yourself at the tent in his underwear. You tugged those down next, and while he was no Remus size-wise, he was just as pretty. You stared for a moment, tongue wetting your lips subconsciously. As you stood back up, Remus shoved his hand into your panties, making a satisfied noise at how wet you’d become already.

He pulled his hand back up, popping the fingers he’d brushed against you in his mouth. You watched, never not enamored with how bold he got in bed. He smirked at you, then looked at Sirius.

“Care for a taste?”

Sirius nodded quickly. “Love to.”

“Lay down for him, darling,” Remus said, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

You quickly climbed onto the bed, laying against the pillows at the headboard. Remus smiled softly at you, his eyes looking you up and down lovingly.

“Pretty girl,” he sighed, shaking his head. He sat next to you after a moment, slinging an arm around your shoulder. “Alright, Sirius.”

Remus nodded at the apex of your thighs, expecting Sirius to get to work. Siri gave you a questioning look, to which you nodded with a smile. He crawled between your legs, kissing all the way up your thighs until he reached your panties. He pulled them slowly down your legs, licking his lips at the sight of you before him.

“Wow,” he said, breathless. He looked at Remus again, “Understand why you always want to shag, too.”

“And you haven’t even really touched her yet,” Remus said with a light laugh. He kissed you on your forehead. “See, love? You are entirely irresistible.”

You shook your head, capturing his lips with a hand on his neck. Just in time, too, moaning into his mouth as you felt Sirius dive into your cunt like nothing you’d expected. You gasped again, though Remus shoved his tongue in your mouth to keep you quiet. The only way you could describe what Sirius was doing was that he was not only eating you out, but fully making out with your pussy. You clenched around nothing, writhing under both of their grips on you: Remus’ hands holding your waist and neck, Sirius’ arms wrapped around your legs to keep you open for him.

“Feel good, darling,” Remus asked against your lips.

You nodded with a whine. “Yes. Fuck.”

Sirius groaned against you, the vibrations shooting all over you.

“Shit, Siri,” you moaned, a hand in his hair. “So good.”

Remus smiled, shaking his head at you before diving back in to kiss you again, directing your hand to stroke his cock as he did. Between his tongue in your mouth and Sirius’ mouth all over your soaked cunt, it wasn’t long before you felt that familiar tension in your stomach start to snap. You cried out against Remus, your whole body shaking as the orgasm ripped through you at a rapid speed. Sirius left soft kisses all over your thighs, pressing one last kiss directly on your clit before he sat up. You opened your eyes, looking at him in a daze. You knew from rumors he was supposed to be good in bed, but you didn’t expect him to be quite so talented with his mouth.

You also didn’t expect to look down and see him leaking precum as if he’d been the one getting off. You whimpered again at the sight, arousal only building at the fact that he was that excited from going down on you. You started moving your hand slowly again where it rested on your boyfriend’s dick, wanting him to feel good, too, but he had other ideas.

“Hands and knees, angel,” he said, kissing your cheek quickly. “Let him see what that pretty mouth can do for him, yeah?”

You nodded, moving to get onto all fours in front of Sirius. You leaned on your elbows, taking him into your hand and stroking him. You looked up, his face already showing obvious signs of his pleasure. You stuck your tongue out, running it terribly slowly over the vein that stuck out on the underside of his cock until you reached the head, pressing a soft kiss just where the precum was leaking out. You licked your lips clean for him, watching as his brows raised, his chest rising and falling a little faster.

“How is it?” he asked, a little amused at your show.

“Tastes like you,” you smirked, taking the entire tip in your mouth, causing a few curses to spill from his lips.

“My little cumslut,” Remus cooed from behind you. “Don’t let her pull off until she swallows, yeah?”

Sirius nodded, breathless as you started bobbing your head faster. “Yeah. Yeah, will do.”

You felt Remus slide his head against you, gathering your slick and Sirius’ left-over spit until he slowly started pushing into you. You moaned your appreciation around Sirius, causing him to tense up, his hand finding it’s way to the back of your head.

“Just like that,” he groaned as you wrapped your hand around him, pushing him deeper into your throat with each thrust. “Fuck, doll. You do this so well. So good.”

Remus slapped your ass from behind, thrusting into you harder. “Manners, baby. He just complimented you, didn’t he?”

You pulled off for a moment, hand taking over. “Thanks, Siri.”

“Yeah,” he said quickly, trying to push himself back into your mouth as quickly as possible.

You smiled to yourself, obliging him. Though, it was becoming a little more difficult to keep pace just right when Remus was more-so pulling you on and off his cock rather than thrusting his hips into you.

You groaned and choked on Sirius, especially as he started fucking into your face. You felt yourself rapidly approaching another orgasm, and Remus seemed to notice.

“Come on, love,” he grunted. “I can feel you. I know you want to come all over my cock. Go ahead.”

You whined again, mouth full, and came crashing down. You were barely able to keep yourself up as both men fucked into you relentlessly, and Remus grabbed you around your middle to help you stay upright.

“Just a bit longer, love,” he said, clearly getting close himself.

“I’m gonna…” Sirius said, groaning out the words. He looked down at you with his mouth agape and his eyes dark. All it took was you looking back up at him with teary eyes, his cock pumping in and out of your mouth. “Fuck”

His hips stuttered, and he spilled into your mouth. You shut your lips around him, swallowing as much as you could with him still jammed in your throat. He practically whimpered from overstimulation, pulling out of your mouth to let you swallow whatever you couldn’t before. He flopped down on the bed in front of you, giving you another smirk before he tossed his arm over his face, coming down from his high.

“Alright, love,” Remus mumbled, pounding into you harder now that you weren’t otherwise occupied.

You groaned loudly as he hit that perfect spot inside of you, gasping for breath when you felt a hand toying with your clit. You opened your eyes, seeing it was Sirius who had slipped his hand under your body. He smiled at you, cheeky, especially when he saw your brows knit together. You were getting close again.

“Gonna cum inside of you,” your boyfriend said, pressing his face into your neck. “M’close.”

“Please,” you begged, though not quite sure to who.

Sirius sped up the work of his hand as Remus spilled inside of you, sending you careening over the edge once again. Your body convulsed under Remus’ larger frame, your arms finally giving out under you. You shut your eyes as it took over your entire being, not opening them again until you felt Remus pulling out of you.

“Aww, look at that, Pads,” he said, a smile in his voice. “Think we just about fucked her to sleep.”

You heard Sirius chuckle. “Cute.”

Remus pressed a kiss to your shoulder. “I’m going to get a washcloth for you, alright, love?”

You nodded, barely coherent and thoroughly fucked out, still laying on your stomach. Another hand brushed away some stray hair from your forehead.

“For the record, this is definitely not going to help those dreams of mine,” Sirius said lowly.

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[shockercoco]

Only Pleasure Remains

Feyd Rautha x reader

Warnings - 18+, smut, oral (fem receiving), fingering, squirting, penetration, dirty talk, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, basically enemies to lovers

Word count - 3608

a/n - this was supposed to be posted over a week ago, but I kept procrastinating on finishing it. This is also my longest imagine so far lol. Disclaimer: I haven't read the books yet I've only seen the movies, but I just ordered the first one. I hope you enjoy :)

You’re currently pacing back and forth in one of the vip suites, waiting for the fight to start. It’s the fight that will determine whether or not you’ll have to marry the most deranged person you’ve ever laid eyes on.

Feyd Rautha is known for being unhinged in and out of the arena. It could be because of his past that he lacks compassion, or he just has no regard for anyone other than himself. He’ll kill anyone in an instant without blinking an eye, but sometimes he’ll take his time to enjoy the moment.

You’ve never talked to Feyd and have only looked at him from a distance each time you visited the planet for your father to discuss business matters. When he would join the meetings you would avoid eye contact, but he would always watch you. When you guys would pass each other in the corridors you would keep your head down and walk faster, but you knew he was looking at you. You never knew if he was looking at you like a piece of meat or an actual human being. What really made you sick is that, despite his horrific personality, you still found him attractive.

Recently your father and Baron Harkonnen had a huge argument and couldn’t come to an agreement, and of course the only way to resolve the issue is with a battle with you as collateral. It wasn't completely out of the blue since  your father was somewhat close to the Baron, but it was a terrible proposition. Baron Harkonnen wants to make sure his bloodline is secure before he dies and Feyd takes control, but of all the women in the universe he had to pick you.

So now here you are a week later, along with the other citizens inside the arena, waiting to see the outcome of the fight. You already know what it will be though, everyone knows it, but you’re hoping that just this once the outcome will be different.

Eventually, you hear Feyd’s name being announced to the crowd followed by him strutting into the arena with no emotion on his face. You can’t bring yourself to watch the fight so you turn your back as soon as it starts, not even bothering to take a seat. The arena is dead silent once the fight starts, allowing you to hear the clashing of swords and the shouts coming from each man. 

It’s not long before Feyd’s announced as the winner, as usual, and the crowd erupts in cheers. You turn back around and catch sight of the dead bodies splayed around Feyd who's basking in the praise from the sea of people in the stands. Turning your head to your left you lock eyes with your father who gives you an apologetic smile, but you just shake your head not knowing what to say to him. You take one last look into the arena and at Feyd’s face, before leaving.

The guards already knew of the arrangement and wouldn’t let you stray too far from the grounds of the house. It didn’t take long for you to find out about the several lady’s maids you now had – more than back home – because they basically circled around you until you finally told them that you didn’t need them at the moment. One remained close behind you though.

When you were shown to your room, you were met with one that was far from small. You had a king size bed, a spacious bathroom with a walk-in shower, and a balcony that allowed you to look out into the distance at the skyline. You notice your knick knacks and personal items were scattered around the room on tables and shelves, and your clothes had already been unpacked and inside the closet.

They really don’t waste time here.

As beautiful as the room was, it couldn’t replace the one you had back home – the life you had back home.

Later that night after you bathed, you were about to call it a day and just crawl under the covers, but you decided against it. Luckily there was no one standing outside of your room or lurking in the hallway, but there was still a chance of you getting caught by one of the guards or by one of the Baron’s henchmen.

Even though you’ve been here many times, you have only gone to the places that were necessary: the throne room, restrooms, dining hall, and the room for meetings. As you walked you noticed that many of the rooms were either locked or empty. You did manage to find a room full of paintings and another resembling an armory that seemed to be for display only. 

Some of the items were tarnished, some looked extremely fragile, and some still had the blood on it from the time it was used. When you heard a pair of paced footsteps, you decided to make your way to the other side of the house to continue your exploration and to avoid being seen.

The other side gave you a completely different vibe, mainly because the corridors were barely lit. The main source of light came from the fireworks exploding outside, an applaud for Feyd. You started to wish you had brought a candle or anything that could grant you more light since the ceiling lights weren’t helping much. The farther you walked, you started to feel more and more uneasy. You felt like someone was watching you, which is ironic because this wasn’t the best lighting for seeing.

Feeling it was time to end the exploration, you turn around and start to head back but stop when you hear something. Or, at least you thought you heard something. It was dead silent except for the faint sounds of explosions. You were about to keep walking when you felt someone wrap their arm around and press a blade to your neck. The person’s scent is familiar though, reminding you of what you would smell every time you walked past Feyd.

Was he just casually hiding in the shadows?

“What are you doing here? How did you get past the guards?” you hear Feyd ask from behind you in his usual raspy voice, the rasp that you love but will never admit outloud.

You're relieved that it’s not a random person, but still a little fearful given the fact he could end your life at any second. The thought practically paralyzes you.

“I was just about to head back to my room,” your response is short.

“That doesn’t answer what I asked. No one’s allowed this way,” Feyd says as he circles around to stand in front of you with the edge of his blade still pressed to your neck. “Wait a minute, I’ve seen you around. Aren’t you that lord’s daughter, the one I’m so supposed to be marrying?”

You were about to just give him a simple nod, but then remember the blade pressed against your throat. “Yes.”

He waits a moment as he looks at you before moving his hand away and leaving it to hang by his side along with the blade. Despite being surrounded by darkness, his blade still manages to shine. You automatically take a step back.

“I could’ve killed you, why didn’t you say anything?” he asks, though his tone makes it clear he doesn’t care too much.

“To be fair you had a blade pressed to my neck,” you answer as Feyd’s dark eyes stare into yours. He doesn’t reply right away as he looks you up and down. His stare makes you feel exposed considering you’re only wearing a thin nightgown covered by a robe. Unconsciously, you begin to play with your fingers behind your back. Feyd notices your fidgeting though.

“Are you scared of me?” he suddenly asks, and you’re not sure how to reply. Everyone is scared of him, but is he genuinely asking or is he trying to get a kick out of this?

“No,” you choose to say, and he smirks.

He starts to slowly walk around you as he continues speaking. “No? Do I just make you nervous then? It has to be something because you’ve always avoided eye contact with me, and I know how you would distance yourself from me on purpose. In fact, this is the first conversation we’ve had. Come on now, we’re going to be married soon, we should be able to talk to each other,” he smirks.

Well, what the hell am I supposed to say to that?

“Isn’t that how you want people around you to feel? Everyone has their weakness, what’s yours?” you question as he continues to circle you.

He doesn’t hesitate to say, “I don’t have one.”

“Everyone has one,” you pause as you think then say, “what about the women you always have around? Everyone knows you’re a playboy, that sounds like a weakness to me.”

He stops in front of you to look down at you and into your eyes with the smirk still on his face. “That sounds like jealousy to me.” 

“It’s simply an observation,” you shrug. 

“You know, I usually don’t let the women I sleep with talk to me like this,” he says with a tilt of the head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that for you I guess I will make an exception, given the fact you’re my bride and all,” he says before he circles behind you again to press his body up against yours. He leans into your ear to whisper, “but just this time.”

You wish you could stop the goosebumps from appearing on your skin or the shiver that works its way through your body. You thought Feyd wouldn’t notice, but he must’ve because he leans back with a light chuckle. Right now all you want to do is slap him across the face for his arrogance and yourself for the way your body reacted to his words. 

“I won’t sleep with you just yet, my darling, but it will happen soon because it’s obvious you can’t wait,” Feyd says as he slowly backs away from you. You turn around wanting to say something else, but before you get the chance he says, “run along now, it’s getting late.”

He keeps that smug look on his face as you give him one last look before leaving. Your mind tells you to hate him, but your body says otherwise as a warm feeling travels through your core as you walk back to your room.

You also hate how every night after part of you expects Feyd to walk through your bedroom door. He didn’t come the night after your encounter in his corridor. He didn’t come the next night either or the night after that. You knew it was foolish waiting for a man that has his own sex slaves – a man that you’re supposed to detest.

It isn’t until the fourth day that Feyd arrives at your door; little did you know Feyd was having his own internal conflict. He hadn’t used any of his slaves since that night he caught you in his corridor, not feeling the need for them. He also was not a fan of his feelings toward you.

You were standing out on your balcony enjoying the night breeze when you heard a knock on your door. You knew it could only be one of your lady’s maids at this time, so you didn’t hesitate to tell the person outside the door to come in as you took a couple steps back into your room. In walked a lady’s maid that you have grown quite fond of over the past couple of days.

“There’s a visitor here for you, would you like me to send them in,” she asks.

You wanted to say no given the current time, but you nodded anyway and watched as she walked back out. Not even a few seconds later, Feyd replaces her spot covered in a black robe, a stark contrast to his pale skin, and closes the bedroom door behind him.

Your body stiffens, nearly stuck to the ground, as you quickly try to figure out your emotions in your head. Feyd takes his time walking towards you as he looks around your room, and this gives you enough time to pull yourself together. You step back out onto the balcony as he gets closer and closer, and he follows you out there.

“Nice view don’t you think?” he asks as he stands next to you, looking out into the distance.

“Did you really come here to ask me about the view?” you look up at him.

“Straight to the point, I like it,” he smirks.

“Straight to what point?” you act dumb and put some space in between the two of you.

“Why do you think I’m here?” he tilts his head down at you.

“Apparently to talk about the view,” you reply in a joking manner and look out into the distance to avoid his gaze. Out of the corner of your eye you can see his jaw tighten.

“You’re making this hard.”

“What?” you ask, still not looking at him. You want him to hear him say outloud what he wants.

Except he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he quickly closes the distance between the two of you as he places his lips on yours and his hands on your cheeks. The force he uses startles you and pushes you back a couple steps, but you recover and grab onto his wrists as you begin kissing him back.

You wonder for a second if you’re giving in too easily, but the feeling of Feyd’s grip on you tosses the idea out of your mind.

Feyd hated how needy and desperate he felt as his lips attacked  yours. The kiss was rough, but Feyd was trying to hold himself back from going too far. Normally he wouldn’t care about how rough or gentle he was with a woman because his slaves never complained — not like they had a choice — and some of them even came to him first to satisfy their own needs. This time though, it was him coming to you.

Feyd deepens the kiss, keeping his hold on your face firm, as he starts to push you back into your bedroom. Once your legs hit the bed, he unties the knot on your robe before slowly peeling it off your shoulders leaving you nothing but your nightgown and undergarments. He breaks the kiss to push you back, and you scoot your body into the center of the bed.

 The way he focuses on you as he stands at the bottom of the bed makes you feel like one of Feyd’s opponents in the arena. The thought sends warmth between your legs.

He takes off his own robe leaving him in only his underwear before he starts to crawl on the bed, trailing a hand up one of your ankles up to your thigh, until he’s hovering above you. Your breathing is shallow and your heart races in anticipation for what’s to come. The only other person you've had sex with was one of your close friends back on your home planet, and you enjoyed it, but that friend wasn’t Feyd. He wasn’t a murderous maniac known for his sexual relations like Feyd was. Another wave of electricity passes through your body.

Feyd dips his head down and starts placing kisses on your neck from your ear to your collarbone,  making a low whine escape your lips. All the while, the hand gripping your thigh inches farther north until it reaches your panties and begins to touch you through them. It doesn’t take too long for a wet spot to appear on the fabric, and it’s obvious that Feyd notices too, seeing as how you can feel a smirk form on his lips. You squeeze your legs together wanting more from him, but Feyd pushes your legs back open and bites the skin on your neck.

You draw in a breath as he whispers into your ear, “be patient.” His voice may be light, but you can hear the firmness behind it.

He moves his face away from your neck and takes his time as he moves his body lower and lower until his face is between your thighs. He pulls your underwear down your legs before tossing them to the side, and helps you dispose of your nightgown revealing your bare body to him. You start to wish that your bedroom lights were off as you look down to see Feyd’s dark eyes taking all of you in.

A smile spreads across his face once he notices you shying up. “There’s no hiding from me now.”

He says nothing else and dives right into you. His movements are rough yet gentle as he eats you out, resembling hunger. The way he flicks his tongue over you like a snake has your back arching while you let out a consistent string of moans. You tightly grab hold of the blanket beneath you with both hands as you move your hips into his mouth. You can’t help but roll your eyes from the speed of his tongue.

Feyd places one hand onto your stomach before moving it up to one of your breasts to grab hold of, while his other hand joins his lips between your thighs. He wastes no time slipping a finger into you as he moves his mouth up to suck harshly on your clit.

“Oh my god,” you say breathlessly. One of your hands lets go of the blanket to join Feyd’s on your breast.

The finger inside of you pumps into you at a measured pace before gradually getting faster. He decides to add another finger without letting up on his speed. You can tell that him pleasuring you gives him satisfaction, noticing the fact that he’s in his own world. Naturally, your body starts to move away from his mouth and your legs start to close as the pleasure becomes more intense.

Feyd releases his hold on your clit and lifts up his head to make eye contact with you. “I need you to stay still,” he tells you in more of a warning tone and pulls you back to his mouth before continuing, not waiting for you to answer.

Once you feel your orgasm nearing your moans get louder as they turn into whines. Feyd notices the way you become shaky and how you start writing around more so he moves his mouth away and pulls his fingers out of you. Your mouth falls open as you look down at him, the warmth previously building up in your stomach slowly starting to fade away. You’re about to say something when he looks into your eyes and shushes you.

He then moves his hand on your breast and places it on your stomach, gently adding pressure. You’re confused and you expect him to say something, but he doesn’t. 

Then suddenly you feel his fingers start to move inside you again, except this time at a different pace. He begins to quickly pump his fingers in and out of you, causing you to throw your head back as your back lifts off the bed. You feel yourself getting close to tumbling over the edge again, although this time it feels different. It’s unlike all the other times you have brought yourself to an orgasm.

Right as your orgasm hits you, you feel a gush of liquid squirt out of you. You cum with a loud cry, forgetting the fact that the doors to your balcony are still wide open. When the thought pops into your mind you don’t even care about anyone being able to hear you.

Feyd stops when you move your hands down to try and push him away. He looks down at his chest to see the mess you created and lets out a low laugh. As your body starts to relax, you look down to see Feyd standing at the bottom of the bed pulling down his underwear to reveal his hard length to you.

“Don’t worry, I’m not done with you yet,” he tells you as he positions himself between your legs.

He rubs the tip of his length up and down your slit spreading your arousal around. You let out a whine at his teasing and he says, “ready for another one, are we?”

He doesn’t stop right away, but when he finally glides into your soaked opening it pulls a moan out of both of you. He places his arms on either side of your head and leans down to connect his lips to yours. The kiss is rough and sloppy, and you tightly wrap your arms around his waist pulling him closer to you. You don’t even care if you seem desperate anymore.

You’re still sensitive from your previous orgasm, but Feyd doesn’t care as he ruthlessly pounds into you. Once he finds the spot inside of you that makes you gasp, he makes a mental note of it as he repeatedly thrusts into it.

It doesn’t take long for your next orgasm to build up, releasing it with a silent cry as you unintentionally dig your fingers into Feyd’s back causing him to groan in your ear in pleasure. He keeps his thrusts consistent as you begin to leak around his cock and onto the blanket beneath you. There’s no doubt you’ll have to change the bedding later. 

With another smirk he firmly grips your jaw and says, “I hope you can take a few more, my darling.”

#austin butler x reader #austin butler #austin butler smut #austin butler imagine #feyd rautha x reader #feyd rautha #feyd rautha smut #feyd x reader #dune part 2 #smut

[irndad]

in every other life- s.r.

a/n: my soul is in this mf fic. there's a lil sexual tension lol! this is a behemoth of pining. so much fucking pining. this guy needs you like air wtf!! ALSO the poem is from a book, the lover's dictionary by david levithan. summary: the love of spencer's life is also his best friend, and she goes on a few dates. he does not handle it well, internally. ft. metaphysics by our dear genius boy. wc: 3.3k (holy shit)

While he recognizes that no direct injustice has actually been done to him, he can’t help but feel that it’s so unfair. 

Because Spencer had never actually wanted much of anyone, actually. He was too much of a child through his entire education, and he’d found anyone that he’d even consider had almost instantly had dismissed him. He’d grown used to a life where companionship wasn’t a desire that crossed his mind. 

But he wanted her. 

His lovely friend, his coworker, who was the kind of lovely that it feels unfair you’d ever have to take your eyes off of. She’s the best person he’s ever met, the sort of wonderful you read about but never convince yourself you’ll ever see. He knows the shape of her, has her form memorized from watching, waiting for her to step into the office every day.  

It was only a matter of time until he wasn’t the only one with his eye on her. 

She’s actually absurdly easy to want. There’s nights where they watch something, often what he picked, Doctor Who or some other science fiction which would be great if he could focus on anything but her. Her warm disposition ruminating his too-small apartment with a kind of light that follows his every movement. He’d adore her even if she wasn’t, but it’s impossible to ignore how beautiful she is- the kind of pretty that you hardly expect to see in real life. 

“Hey you,” her so-sweet voice is what breaks him out of his daydreaming, and he looks up at her lovely face smiling down at him. Fondness seeps through her tone, and it’s everything he can do not to preen that her first thought at seeing him is one of pleasure. 

“Hey back,” he says, greeting her with a warm grin of his own. “How was your weekend?”

It’s a calculated question. 

She had canceled their weekly movie night. He’d tried not to look too disappointed, like the idea of her next to him on his couch, of her nimble fingers raking through his unkempt hair while something nice, but far less wonderful than his company played in the background wasn’t all that was keeping him going. These days, and he knows it’s likely delusion, that she sometimes seems to gaze back at him with a similar sort of desperation, hooded eyes and tenderness. 

It’s a liminal space, those nights. How can people be two things at once? You cannot be both in love and not. In the low-light of his place, under his blanket- it’s like Schrodinger’s experiment. She can’t love him like a friend and more at the same time- it resists the laws of physics. She is his best friend, a fact he knows as sure as gravity and the elements, and believing anymore than that- it’s asserting an impossibility. 

When they’re alone together, though. It seems like the impossible exists. 

But she’d canceled it, something she hadn’t done for the months they’d been engaging in their little tradition. So there had to be a reason. She sits next to him, her desk next to his. 

She looks a little disheveled, only in an adorable way- but a little like she’s been busy, like her flow is disrupted.

“It was good! I finally went out with that guy Penelope’s been begging me to let her set me up with.”

It’s all that he can do not to freeze up. 

Penelope has been trying to get her to go out with her friend Ben, which Spencer thinks is a stupid name, by the way, and secretly he’d been so, so pleased when she had brushed off the invite. It’s a dangerous thing, hope. He tries not to have too much of it, tries to savor the thought of her, of more for moments of particular vulnerability. It’s treacherous, to want her the way he does. He knows he can’t let himself feel it all the way. 

And logistically- romance is not a reason for a valid reason for him to be panicking the way he is, but all he can think about is the physics. Two opposite things cannot be true at the same time. 

“You know, studies suggest that even now, the majority of couples are meeting in person or through friends over any other medium.” 

It hurts to say. She’s part of a couple, one half a whole that he doesn’t complete. 

“Seriously? I’d have thought it’d changed by now. I guess it’s safer to date someone you know.”

She’d date someone she knew? Is that what she prefers? 

“How did it go?” He hears Emily ask, and this conversation is already the bane of his existence.

“Guys, it really wasn’t a big deal! We got dinner, it was just a little thing.”

Spencer isn’t experienced in dating, but he does know that dinner is a serious date. Coffee is a smaller thing, but dinner-

Dinner means she got pretty for him. Probably picked out a dress for the evening, spent time on a carefully manicured look. Spent hours of her precious, rare, time on him. 

It’s not fair how much he fucking hates this guy. 

“Dinner is not nothing!” Penelope squeals, and he would love to share in her excitement, except it kind of feels like a piece of his heart is being shredded. 

“Dinner means coming up to my place, have coffee, oh look who doesn’t have her hair done-“

Please kill me, he thinks. Please. 

“Oh, that definitely did not happen.”

Thank god. 

Except he can’t miss her flush, how her expression shifts- and he has the sickening feeling he’d be hearing that guy’s name again. 

When they all settle around the table, her doe eyes focused on gruesome images that were the exact antithesis of her spirit, he couldn’t help but feel that even if it hurt, there was finality. 

The cat was out of the box. Two things cannot be true at once, and so only one is- she does not love him, at least not the way he does. 

Ben, is not in fact, going away. 

If he had more willpower or self-preservation, Spencer would keep his distance from her, but the truth of it is that as much as he wants to be the person she turns to, her smile is most of why he can stand his job anymore. 

It’s a Tuesday, and everyone is grumbling about being pulled in early in the morning, but he’s just happy to have a reason to leave the house.

“Spence!” He hears her excited voice carry, the pretty sound picking his ears up at once. “I got you coffee. It’s hazelnut, and it’s like, 90% sugar. You’re gonna love it.”

She beams at him, and he takes it in his hands. Their hands brush, and he tries so hard not to notice how soft her hands are. Her name is on the cup, and an unconsenting fantasy of her name meaning that he’s hers creeps into his mind before he can bat it away.  

But her cup says Ben. 

“Thanks,” he says her name, tries to sound measured and friendly. “Coffee date?”

She preens, and god, if this guy doesn’t get how lucky he is it might be thing thing that actually sends him over the edge after all these years.

“Just a quick thing, we were just in the same place and he bought me a coffee, I’d already gotten yours.”

If there’s two roles he can fill and he doesn’t get to pick, if he’s stuck with friends, he’s gonna be great at it, and he’s gonna be grateful. Because knowing her is a grace in itself, the kind of thing you should could yourself so lucky to have. 

“He sounds like a great guy,” he hears himself say, “I’m glad you’re doing this.”

It’s the right thing to say. He’s sure of it. The thing he’s not sure of is why the smile she offers him doesn’t reach her eyes. 

The next time he notices the cracks in their relationship, it’s when they’re out. She’d suggested this bookstore-cafe kind of thing, and he’d jumped at the thought, all of his favorite things in one afternoon. He’d felt foolish spending so much time picking out his outfit out, wearing the blazer she’d once complimented-he’d actually stuttered so hard in thanks that Morgan laughed for a full minute when she left the room- but she always looked beautiful, and he knows he sometimes pales in comparison. 

“Oh, I love this one!” She thumbs over the spine of a thin book of poetry. She’s wearing a forest green sweater that hugs her frame, and a bracelet hangs on her delicate wrist. He loves looking at her, though he tries to conceal it. His goal of being a supportive friend includes trying not to make it that known how gone for her he is. 

“I don’t read too much poetry,” he admits, “But I’m sure you have excellent taste.” 

Her keen eyes skim through the pages intently, clearly seeking out a specific passage before stopping, gaze alight with recognition. 

Her tone is molasses-sweet when she begins reading, and his heart skips a beat.

“When I say be my lover,” her voice hitches, reverent of the quote and he is reverent of her, “ I don’t mean ‘let’s have an affair. I don’t mean Sleep with me. I don’t mean Be my secret. I want us to go back to that root. I want you to be the one who loves me. I want to be the one who loves you.”

It feels impossible to look away from her, doe eyes practically sparkling in the low light of the shop, and there it is. His heart’s in his throat. Of all the things you could have told Spencer he’d experience, hearing her lovely voice wrap around the words be my lover in hushed tone, in sacred sweetness, would never ever be one he’d guess. 

He’s not sure how he feels about the multiverse theory, but right now, he can feel all the versions of himself pressing right up against him. Can see into lives he doesn’t get to live, lifetimes where his love isn’t a buried, worn-out tattered thing to keep his ever-frigid chest warm. Versions of himself that in this very moment can smile back at her, warm and open and kind, and kiss her perfect smile. 

Because he would be her lover. He would come home to her, spend the rest of his life building a home that she could fit  into. It’d be easy, actually. She’s easy to imagine- nights of laughing in a shared kitchen, evenings where her company is a fine wine, sipped at leisure with the comfort of knowing it’s never going to slip from your grasp. 

“I like that,” he says, voice too vulnerable for his own good, eyes unable to tear from the eye contact. “I really like that.” 

In the root of it, he already is her lover. He is the one who loves her. She’s just not his. 

It comes to a head on a Friday. It’s a few weeks from he book shop, and the air feels heavier between them now. The last handful of Fridays he’s sat with the ghost of what used to be their plans, empty time lingering where in its’ place used to be her company. 

He doesn’t know if she’s been with Ben. He tries not to think about it. 

The sound of her voice lingers in his mind, sweet and bitter in his mind like old lemon candy, the kind his mother would save for special occasions. He’d spend any amount of money he had to hear her lovely voice say those words to him out of the context of a poem. 

At work, they seem almost normal. Like one of them wasn’t desperately in love with the other; like a genius and his lovely, incredibly empathetic, kind best friend. In the field, their actions flow together seamlessly. She is always the first to listen and to understand (and god, isn’t it intoxicating to have someone meet you in understanding) and there is nothing to suspect is off.

But there’s still a cloud lingering. The poem- the soft melody of her voice curling around the words, the request of it all, the way she had sounded so wanting- and then, there’s Ben. 

She doesn’t mention Ben to him, of course, but Penelope does. Penelope, all bows and bright colors and cheeriness keeps bringing the absolute worst news to Spencer with a smile on her face. 

He’s taking her out for drinks! Oh, he’s reading her favorite book, do you know what it is?

This anger isn’t an emotion that he’s familiar with. A roar of possessiveness, the bite of it not tempered at all by rationality. Has he touched her?

It seems almost a tradition at this point when she shakes him out of his jealous storm of thought.

“Spence?” she muses, “You alright?” They’re alone at his desk, everyone having fled for their own evening and weekend plans. This was one of the Fridays that she had agreed to spend with him, and he wonders if he’ll be able to handle the scent of her shampoo so close after such a lapse of the sensation. Will all of his judgement go where he can’t follow?

“Yeah,” he says, tucking his papers into his bag, “I’m excited for tonight.”

His place is actually a short walk from the office. He’d been embarrassed to show her the place at first. It’s all function over fashion, and a bit cramped, but she’d looked at as though it was made of something more, something good. She didn’t even tease him. It had actually been her idea, to start these movie nights. 

Ironic, really. 

The walk was pleasant, the weather a little frigid but still nice, and she looks beautiful under the setting sun. It’s incredible to him, how her lashes catch the light and make her irises look like polished stained glass. His favorite color. Through the looking glass of another life, he sees a version of himself that gathers her up in his arms. In this daydream, she grants him one of her smiles that seems to carry its’ own light, and leans into his body like it’s the only thing that keeps her steady. It’s so clear. On the other side of the veil, he kisses her reddening nose, and keeps her warm himself. 

In the here and now, Her coat is long, and hangs low by her ankles. It’s an elegant thing, like the woman who wears it, and Spencer would be grateful for a lifetime of just looking.They stop in front of his door, some invisible force stopping him from entering. 

She sheds the coat inside his home. It smells like the candle she got him for his birthday, a reminder of her grace. He’s saved a bottle of wine for them, a sweet thing for the sweetest thing he’s known. 

“I’m sorry,” she speaks the warmth of the beverage on her tongue, and it should feel abrupt but it doesn’t.

“What for?” He can’t imagine what she would have to apologize for. 

“I know things have been…off between us,” she says carefully, considering the phrasing of each word. He watches her with a reverence, his hazel eye brimming with affection with nowhere to go. “You’ve been so great through it.”

Her legs are thrown across his own, and she’s dangerously close to sitting in his lap, but not exactly. He’s missed having her this close, the last time she’d been in his orbit was before she’d had reason to be gone. She smells floral. He fights With limited filtering through his already treacherous mind he thinks, He can’t take this from me. I still get her like this. 

“I’m not entirely sure what it is.” 

She slowly shuts her eyes, go for a moment to somewhere he can’t follow. Her cheeks are rosy from the cold. 

“This whole Ben thing.”

“Oh.”

Logically, it always had to come back to this. Someone else had the good fortune to know her like this, to be the person she reads poetry to in deep meaning to. 

He’s been stealing moments from someone who’s not his to take them from. 

“I don’t even know how I wanted you to react.” she murmurs, staring at the rim of her glass. 

“I just want you to be happy” His voice is something low, grit in the sound of it. His hand rests on her thigh. There’s warmth blanketing the room and he wants to kiss her. He wants to kiss her all the time. 

She laughs, but it’s not her normal laugh. It’s tinny and a little bitter. He pushes his luck, and reaches out to brush the side of her face, moving the hair but still holding her face. Her breath smells like strawberry wine and temptation. 

It feels different tonight. Low light and tension that could be sliced with wire. Every part of her is in reach, and something in the air makes all of this talk of relativity, of physics, moot. 

Like maybe he’s not in the only world they don’t end up together. 

Her face is warm and soft under his touch and he loves the sight of her. He’s never touched her like this. Every point of contact feels electric, addicting. 

“What is it? The Ben thing?” He doesn’t know what he’s expecting to hear. What he wants, is for her to tell him that it doesn’t matter anymore, that she picks him-

“I only went out with him the once.”

“What?”

“I told Penelope I was still going because it made her happy and she said I couldn’t keep going to your apartment and reading you poetry and call that romance.”

Romance? 

Wasn’t it romance, though? 

Her eyes widen in something akin to horror. 

“Shit, Spence- I’m sorry, that is so fucked of me to say-“

“You,” he tries to say calmly, “aren’t going out with Ben.”

She blinks. 

“No?”

He has spent so much time living in other lives, existing in the minds of versions of himself he wasn’t lucky enough to be. Drinking coffee imagine a life colored in her presence, falling asleep yearning for the presence of something lighter than what he has to carry. 

He can’t exist in two places. That was the entire basis of the experiment. 

He moves his other hand to hold hers, and somehow she’s shifted to being on top of him, and he looks up at her with unwavering desire. 

Spencer isn’t good at wanting people, but it comes naturally with her. Less of an action and more an urge, a course of motion to which he is at the mercy of. This is what leads him to close the gap between them, and kiss her. It’s 

Her delicate fingers run through his hair, and she can’t be close enough, please, and he could spend the rest of his life kissing her, actually. He probably will spend the rest of his life thinking about the soft sigh he pulls out of her. 

“I want it to be me,” he manages to say through shallow breath, still so close that his lips brush hers every other word, “I want to be the one you pick. I want it to be me.” His hazel eyes seem to shift in the moment, swirling with emotion. 

She brushes a lock of his overgrown hair out of his face. He normally shaves when he sees her, but he’d been so busy that he’d forgotten, and felt embarrassed of it now. That is, until she runs her index finger along the edge of his jawline.

It’s then she leans down and kisses him again, pliant and good, his hands around her waist. He breathes a prayer into her mouth, one that hopes that she never ever comes to her senses about him. 

“Spence,” she says, her voice golden silk, a kindness.  “There was never anyone else to pick.” 

#spencer reid #spencer Reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds fanfic

[targaryen-dynasty]

SHADOWS PLAY ON IDLE HANDS.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x (ex-)wife!Reader

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT—MINORS DNI; oral (fem receiving), p in v, missionary position, unprotected sex, creampie, spitting, tiddy sucking, making up sex, angst (?)

WORDS: 4.3 K

NOTES: Based on this request. Thank you so much, @multyfangirl! 🥰 This is not beta read!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

Was it silly of you to think that they’d assign a cabin to all the female supervisors to share back when you signed up to supervise your daughter’s summer camp? Most definitely, because otherwise you wouldn’t be sharing it with your ex-husband right now.

Technically, he’s your soon-to-be ex-husband, considering the divorce hasn’t yet been finalized, but still, he’s the last person you want to share a cabin with. 

It’s night four, and you two haven’t done much talking up until now. With it being a summer camp for children in the kindergarten age, your days are quite busy which allows you to stay away from him as much as possible. 

Unless it’s time for you to go to sleep. 

Walking through the cabin, you go to fetch your pajamas, ready to retire for the night. Aemond lies in his bed, a book in his hand. So far, he’s pretending to not hear you to not acknowledge you, and you’re kind of grateful for it, because it means you don’t have to watch your every move around him. 

Although you’ve been together and married for quite a few years, it does feel like you’re living around a stranger ever since you both came to the conclusion to separate five months ago, him moving out of the house quite early probably playing a big part in it. 

The divorce certainly would settle sooner, if it wasn’t for your daughter, and you both don’t want to make it more traumatizing for her like it already is. 

His voice is somewhat soft when it cuts through the silence, speaking your name and making you flinch and stop on your way to a little nook to get changed in private. 

You can’t deny the warmth that spreads through your body at the sound of it. “Mh?” you raise your brow, looking at him from over your shoulder. 

Despite his lingering eye secretly watching you, he turns his gaze back to the book in his hand. “I need to ask you a question,” he says almost nonchalantly, trying to keep his voice quieter so as to not disturb the silence that surrounds you. 

The mixed signals make you frown, and you shrug your shoulders before disappearing in the little nook. “Don’t really have a choice, do I?” you state rather matter-of-factly than asking. There comes no reply from him, obviously waiting until you're back in view. 

As you emerge from the cranny, you’re dressed in one of his older band shirts that reach your mid-thighs, covering the short, pink shorts you wear. You still sleep in his clothes, despite you separating quite a few months ago, a habit you had picked up pretty early into your relationship. The memories you connect with his old t-shirts always manage to lift up your spirits, remembering the good old days. 

It’s obvious he tries to keep himself occupied with the book, the slight struggle always drawing his eye back towards you. There’s some nostalgia seeing you dressed in his old stuff as well as the shorts only you can get away with wearing. 

Heat spreads on your cheeks as you walk towards your bed, slipping under the covers so his eye would finally stop devouring you. You’re not one to start arguments, especially with the summer camp having barely started, but you know there are some unresolved issues between you two that he’s dying to talk about.  “Your question, Aemond?” 

And then he finally closes his book, placing it on the nightstand table next to his bed to focus all of his attention on you. A shiver runs down your spine at that, and you subconsciously straighten your back. 

“Do you miss me?”

The question surprises you as you don’t expect your ex-husband to ask you such an open question. You’re used to him being a bit more closed off and dismissive when it comes to your relationship, but on the other hand he was never one to beat about the bush. 

You’re left speechless for a moment, until you find the courage to answer in all honesty. “Yes, I do.” There’s no denying it. Not when you’re still wearing his clothes to bed. 

What you don’t expect is the simple “hm” that rumbles in his throat, clearly pleased at your hesitance, before he moves to turn away from you. 

Pressing your lips into a thin line at his reaction, you rub your hands against each other. Taking in a deep breath, you sit up straighter. “You know it wasn’t your fault, right? If anything, our marriage failed because of us, not because of one person alone.”

With the light of the moon shining through the windows of your cabin, highlighting the outline of Aemond, you can spot his body tense slightly at your words, but he does not turn around to face you again. 

He doesn’t speak as he takes in a breath, lying there motionless. The silence seems to stretch on for some time until it’s broken by him. “So, you don’t blame me?”

The urge to scoff at his words is hard to resist, but you manage, wanting to keep the air surrounding you as vulnerable and soft as it is right now. You shake your head, despite him not seeing it at all. “Of course not, Aemond,” you say. “Your father’s death hit us both quite hard, and with the winter fever depression on both sides we just couldn’t support each other through that period of time, I think. Maybe if we would have figured something needed to change, we wouldn’t have called it quits.”

Aemond is quickly reminded of how comfortable he’s always felt around you when you were younger and still together. He has expected that you would simply grow to despise one another completely, and not that you would take the matter into an empathic approach. 

“I should have been more attentive to you,” he says as he remains facing away from you. 

You’re pleasantly surprised about his answer, despite how short it is. The conversation you two are having heads down a more personal route, and it’s something you’re rather enjoying. You’re impressed by the new sense of maturity that he seems to have acquired ever since you parted ways. 

“Bullshit. We should have been more attentive to each other,” you retort, your tone as empathetic as you can make it without seeming over-soft.

“That’s true,” he says. He finally turns around, his eye finding yours. “We weren’t good for each other, were we?”

“And that’s not true,” you counter. “We had our flaws, yes, but if we hadn't been good for each other, our little girl wouldn’t have turned out the way she did. She’s amazing, and that’s to our credit.”

It’s a wonder to the both of you how your daughter turned out so well in spite of all the chaos that goes on between you and your divorce, and truly shows that you two must have done something right in your relationship. 

You sigh, thinking back to fond memories that make you chuckle. “Oh God, I was so cross with you during the birth. The audacity of you holding my hand and asking if I'm okay while I screamed and moaned for my life.”

The story makes him laugh. “Fuck, that was an experience. I’ll never forget you screaming ‘Do you THINK I’m okay?’ as you really squeezed the life out of me. I don’t know who was in more pain at that moment.”

Only with his narrative of the moment do you notice how amusing the memory truly is, painting the perfect picture of a couple in love in the midst of chaos. 

“You scared the wits out of me,” he adds, chuckling. 

Bending your legs at the knees, you make yourself more comfortable, not yet ready to fall asleep. Aemond watches you as you lick your lips. "To be fair, I really thought I’d go through it all alone, because you looked like you were going to faint when they gave me the epidural.”

You recall the sheer terror that was written all over his face as he watched you give birth to your daughter. Something you hadn’t seen before. 

“To this day, I don’t think that I have ever known so many feelings at once as I did when I saw you give birth,” he says, letting his gaze wander off to the side for a moment. “But I’ve pulled myself together, because you know I would have never lived that moment down. You would have made a whole show of it.”

“Oh, most definitely. It would have been my go-to story for so many family gatherings, because no one would believe me you’d faint. Aegon? Maybe, but you? Never,” you scoff. 

Aemond lets out a soft laugh. “Yeah, I was a real wuss during that moment. Perhaps you should have taken out your phone after the birth to record my reaction.”

You raise your brow, shooting him a glare. “That would have been an idea, because then we’d at least have some first photos of her during the check-up that don’t have me in the background naked, sweating and delivering the placenta.”

He smirks at the glare, not minding as it’s actually quite amusing to see you angry at him again for something not too serious. “That would have been a memory to remember. You, all sweaty after giving birth, and then there’s me, unconscious from seeing you give birth.”

The image makes you chuckle. “To be fair, we were quite young when that happened.”

“Too young, but we’ve worked out well enough in dealing with it, haven't we?”

You find yourself nodding in response to his words of confirmation. “Yes, in spite of all the hardships that surrounded us, we have managed quite well with her. We’ve been the best parents that we both have been able to be… together or not.” There’s a soft smile pulling at the corners of your lips. “How’s Vhagar faring with it? Meraxes does miss her sometimes.”

Aemond smiles fondly as he hears your words, more so that you inquire of his precious girl. “She misses him dearly,” he says, but he can’t shake off the feeling that there’s more to your words than just the wellbeing of your dogs. He smiles softly, and turns his head to look at you. “Just like I miss you.”

Your body feels as if it’s on fire with his confession, and you can’t keep your gazes locked. It’s all too much and not enough at once. And when Aemond lifts his blanket, gesturing for you to crawl over to him, you know he feels the same. 

“This bed is big enough for two,” he whispers. 

You’ve been rather stunned at the invitation, yet, you accept it without hesitation. Climbing out of your bed and into his feels all too natural for you, and his body next to yours is a feeling you’ve come to know quite well in your past but has been missing for some time. Your heart is pounding in your chest, but there’s no discomfort or tension between you.

Keeping a fair distance from him isn’t something you master, failing the moment his scent fills your nostrils and urges you to bury your head in the crook of his neck. Snuggling up against him, you’re sure to never leave the bed the moment his arms wrap around you. 

He buries his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent he’s clearly missed just as much as you missed his. The way you feel with your head resting against his jaw makes it hard for him to suppress the urge to pull you even closer to him for fear of pushing you away. 

It’s just both of your breathing filling the otherwise silent room, broken as he speaks. “I missed this.”

It certainly was dangerous to get so close to him, apparent in your half-lidded eyes as you pulled back to look at him. Your gaze flickers between his and his lips, your faces but mere inches apart. “I missed this, too.”

Encouraged by your words, Aemond brings his hand to your cheek, allowing his thumb to brush over your cheekbone, his own breathing becoming heavy as he watches you. 

The way you look back at him nearly causes him to lose the last bit of control he clings to as he desires you with a fire he hasn’t felt in a very long time. When his other hand comes to the back of your head and he leans in, you lick your lips which is more than enough to send him over the edge. 

His hand begins to slide down your back as his thumb traces your bottom lip, heat following in its wake. And then he dips his head forward enough to capture your lips, melting against each other.

Coaxed by his hand slipping beneath the oversized t-shirt you wear, you grip the collar of his t-shirt and pull him closer to you, not daring to break the kiss. His hands are impatient to tug on the flimsy shorts you wear, and you shimmy your way out of them as he pulls them down your legs. 

Your heavy breath fans over his kiss-swollen lips as you pull back from him to speak. Aemond doesn’t wait to hear your words, diving in to press his lips to your jaw and neck. “We… We should not… the divorce…” you trail off, panting heavily and suddenly well aware of how tightly you’re pressed against him. 

Bringing his hands to your belly, the hem of your shirt is riled up and pooling around your waist. “It doesn’t matter,” he rasps against your skin. “Just this one night…”

You nod, letting out a soft moan as he cups your breast. “One little night of bliss…” you mewl. 

It’s clear that the proximity to him gets you just as hot as he is, no longer trying to resist and giving into the feeling you’ve been fighting back for so long. There’s no resistance left in you, clearly forgetting all the bad things that have happened before. You don’t know what will happen between you two tomorrow morning or the day after that, but you can’t bring yourself to care about it at this moment. 

With your hands still fisting his shirt, you pull his body between your legs, the weight of his tall frame heavy on top of you now. He ruts against you as your lips meet again, moving roughly against yours as his hard cock strains against the boxer briefs he wears. You instinctively grind against him, desperate for any kind of friction against your needy pussy. 

The kiss is hardly broken as you pull the shirt over his head, exposing his alabaster skin and well toned torso, only for you to not admire it as he starts to nibble on your bottom lip. 

You trace your fingers across his torso, trailing lower until they hook beneath the waistband of his briefs. “I need you,” you whine, tugging at the elastic to encourage him to slip out of it. But Aemond merely tsks at that. 

“Easy there,” he drawls, mimicking your gesture with his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your panties. He shifts to the side and pulls them down your legs, prompting you to shimmy your way out of them to help him. 

The blankets have long found their way down the bed, laying in a pile right next to it, and therefore you gasp when the cold air hits your soaked core. 

Aemond gets back between your legs again, scooting back and crouching down to kiss his way up your inner thighs, draping them over his shoulders. The moan you release brings heat to your cheeks, more so when his tongue makes contact with your cunt and coaxes another one to slip past your lips.

“You’re drenched,” he remarks smugly, dark blown eye gazing up at you from between your legs. 

Rolling your eyes at that, you entangle a hand into his hair and push his face down between your legs. “Don’t be such a tease now.”

Clearly not minding this bossy side at all, Aemond gets straight to the point. His lips wrap around your little bundle of nerves, and one suck of him already has you arching your back and rolling your hips like a bitch in heat. He alternates between gentle sucking and tracing it with his tongue, driving you insane  

Less than half a year apart and you’ve already forgotten just how good he is at putting his mouth to work. 

Two of his fingers slowly ease inside of you, expertly brushing your sweet spot in a come hither motion that has you tightly locking your legs around his head, not caring if it would crush or suffocate him. With one hand still in his hair, you tug on it not-so-gently which has Aemond groaning against your folds. 

The knot in your belly tightens all too quickly with the pace he sets up, lapping and sucking at your clit in tandem with his fingers scissoring in and out of you. But it doesn’t seem like that’s what Aemond wants. Being able to read all the telltale signs of your impending orgasm, he stops his ministrations without missing a beat. 

You’re baffled, the pleasure disappearing at once. When you look down at him, you spot his chin, lips and cheeks coated in your arousal, glistening in the dim light the moon casts through the windows. “W-What?” you whimper with a pout, trying to force his head back down again. But Aemond is stronger, making it clear he’s just played with you before. 

Watching him lick the remnants of your arousal from his swollen lips, you can’t help but moan, liquid fire coursing through your veins and making your longing for him even more apparent. 

“You don’t think I’m going to savor your first orgasm with my tongue, do you?” he asks matter-of-factly, peeling your legs off of him and sitting back on his haunches.

The breath hitches in your throat not only at his words, but also at the tip of his cock peeking from beneath the waistband of his briefs. He’s rock hard and aching, wanting to be buried inside of you. 

“Five months I had to live without this sweet pussy of yours, and I won’t spend any longer not being buried inside of it.”

Staring at his throbbing cock, you bite your bottom lip and nod almost in a sheepish manner. You pulling the shirt over your head and spreading your legs is all it takes for Aemond to rid himself of his briefs, one hand curling around his shaft as the other grabs you by your hip, pulling you towards him. 

He drags the bulbous tip of his cock through your drenched folds before he lines himself up with your entrance, your arousal making it easy for his thick cock to breach your tightness with little resistance.

The feeling of your pussy desperately sucking him inside until he’s buried to the hilt is a feeling of indescribable bliss that has you releasing a shaky breath in unison. Your hands fly to his shoulders for leverage, holding onto him as he towers over you, tall frame completely shielding your significantly smaller one. 

“Gods, I… forgot how big you are,” you breathe, gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes. 

He brings a hand to your waist, and places the other next to your head, keeping himself supported as he begins to grind his hips against yours. “Hm, fuck, we’ll get you used to it again tonight, princess,” he rasps, heavy panting audible in between the words. The pet name makes you clench around him. Oh, how your body has longed for him. 

You unravel beneath Aemond, arching your back and tipping your head back into the cheap pillows, the sight not making it easier for him to stay composed enough to not come on spot. 

And that’s when he moves to press his chest flush against yours, holding your cheek with one hand, whilst the other grabs the side of the headboard. His lips find the side of your face, kissing along your jaw, earlobe and down the side of your neck. You have your head tilted to the side, granting him even more access as the weight of his body stops you from squirming beneath him and rolling your hips. 

“Fuck, missed you so, so much,” he murmurs against your skin, drunk on your pussy. “All mine… won’t let you leave again.” 

You cross your arms behind his neck, one hand entangling into his silken, silver strands. Every time you try to arch against him, your hard nipples press against his chest. 

“Don’t want to,” you reply. 

Whimpering and whining beneath him, Aemond’s heavy grunts and groans fan over your flushed skin, spurring you on even more. There’s no rush to his movements, the both of you clearly savoring the moment of peace and making up for all the time you’ve lost, and yet it’s enough to build the pressure within your belly again.

The sparse, coarse hairs splayed around the base of his cock and over his pubic bone drag over your sensitive clit with the ruts of his hips, sending a shiver up your spine each time. His thrusts are gentle but determined, reaching deep and expertly brushing your sweet spot, and he fucks sweet, little mewls and moans out of your throat, filling the cabin.  

His thumb presses into your cheek to turn your face towards him, and you’re eagerly welcomed by his lips, capturing yours in a fervent and heated kiss. His lips move sensually against yours, his tongue slipping into your mouth and alternating with his teeth nibbling on your bottom lip. 

As he withdraws his lips from yours, a dark blown eye watching your blissed out expression, you try to chase them for yet another kiss, but he keeps your head in place. His lips are puckered slightly, and the thought of what’s to come makes your insides churn in a good way, becoming limp in your reverie. 

“Show me your tongue,” he commands, and you do as he says.  

Parting your lips and sticking out your tongue, you gaze up at him with wide, innocent eyes. As the warm puddle of his saliva hits it, you’re all too eager to swallow it down, moaning softly as the taste of him spreads on your tongue. 

“You’re gonna come for me now?” he drawls, pressing his chest against yours and dipping his head forwards to capture your earlobe between his teeth. It’s a grazing touch, but still has goosebumps prickling on your skin.

The coil inside of you tightens quickly with all sensations hitting you at once and the deep desire to please him, and you’re once again surprised by how well Aemond knows your body, strumming it like a fiddle and always getting what he wants. 

You convulse all over him with a whine, your hips grinding against his as the white, hot pleasure courses through your veins. But his thrusts don’t stutter, keeping the sensual intensity to the point you’re losing your mind. 

“That’s it,” he coos through gritted teeth. “Fuck, missed the pretty face you make when you’re coming all over my cock, hm.” You’re not sure whether it’s his pubic bone still dragging over your clit, his cock still sliding in and out of you, or if his praise alone is enough to prolong your orgasm, but you feel yourself keening at his words. 

It takes him a couple more thrusts that slowly bring you to the point of overstimulation, until his own orgasm washes over him. His cock is twitching and throbbing as your walls squeeze him for every drop of his seed, spending itself deep inside of your quivering walls. 

Aemond fucks you both through the aftershocks, a white ring of your mixed juices forming around the base of his thick shaft. But as his jaw slackens and he moves to pull out of you, you’re quick to lock your legs around his hips and flip him onto his back, giving neither of you time to get to grips with the events that transpire between you. 

The quizzical look he flashes you as you sit astride him encourages you to roll your hips against his, riding him through the overstimulation. “Maybe… maybe it would be a good idea to see someone about this,” you breathe, grabbing his hands and planting them at your waist. “A couple therapist perhaps, so we can talk through some of the issues that have come up between us, to resolve the root of all our issues…”

He sits up straight, snaking one arm around your waist to keep your body against his as his mouth finds your hard nipple, suckling and nibbling on it. The other hand fondles and gropes at your breast, squeezing it rather roughly. “Maybe that isn’t such a bad idea,” he groans against your skin, licking a flat stripe along the curve of your breast. “We…” his voice catches in this throat with you starting to ride him more fervently. “We should do that, yes.”

Neither of you is certain if the other’s words are genuine or just spoken in the heat of the moment, but it feels as though you’re seeing eye to eye in this moment. Something your relationship has been missing for a very long time. For the remainder of the night, you both seek to get what you still crave from each other, sharing countless orgasms and an unusually passionate embrace. 

However, as the night comes to an end with the light of the next day breaking through the windows of the cabin, and you wake up in Aemond’s arms, you figure that there was truth to your words and that you both strive to save and improve your marriage again. 

#house of the dragon #hotd #aemond targaryen #aemond #aemond stannies #aemond x y/n #aemond x fem!reader #aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen fanfic #aemond targaryen x female reader #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you #hotd imagine #modern!hotd #modern!aemond oneshot #modern!aemondtargaryen #modern!aemond x reader #modern aemond x reader #modern aemond #modern aemond targaryen smut #modern aemond x you #modern aemond targaryen x reader #hotd modern au #modern hotd

[rileysluvr]

super short price nsfw because i am his girlie til the day i die. he’s a bit of a meanie in this one tho so read with caution!!

“Again,” he orders.

You take a deep, shaky breath in an attempt to somewhat ground yourself, but it’s a difficult feat when you're being held down on your surperior’s hard lap by his big arm splayed over your hips. A thick, dusty book on the desk in front of you, flipped to the page that entirely covers the military-workplace regulations he was scolding you for until tears began to bead at your waterline. You don’t think you’ve ever been this humiliated.

Your vision is blurry, and it’s at that point where your memory serves you better than what you’ve been ordered to do, which is to read until you can’t. He’s broken you down to a writhing mess atop his thigh as both of yours can only drape over one of his huge ones. Back flush against his chest with his palm rubbing your pussy in all the right ways; you swallow thickly, wondering if you can even go on any longer in this state.

“Fifty-nine, oh-one: ‘Service personnel are to wear-” you pause to breathe, fighting back a stutter, “…appropriate regulation uniform on duty—”

A bashful whimper cuts you off mid-recitement as he somehow manages to shove his two fingers even deeper into your cunt, nudging against your nerves rather harshly. Your legs squeeze around his thigh and your hands twitch in their place wrapped around to your sides. All the willpower in your body being used to keep yourself from bucking your hips forward and earning another half-hour of degrading names and treatment.

“Did you hear me tellin’ you to stop?” he barks, but it’s in that calmer manner that spins your mind around until you can’t decipher the difference between anger and sympathy. You shake your head, and you don’t need to have a visual on his face to feel the disapproval teetering off his bitten tongue and firm expression. “Then why don’t I hear you reading, eh?”

Your voice trembles, almost enough for him to take pity on you; “Sir, please- I’m trying.”

You weren’t even on duty today, for fuck’s sake. You had stopped by to pick up a personal belonging, only to be reminded how your captain views you as his own the second you step foot through the base’s front gate. And you were never good at avoiding his stalking gaze, especially when he’s got access to eyes stationed at every nook and corner.

“Christ, y’need me to spell it out for you? Is that it?” he scoffs. “How many times’ve we been over this?”

The way he berates and babies you has your cheeks stained and glistening with tears, and your mind all jumbled considering how easily he switches back and forth from mean to soft. Soft like how his fingers pull out and away from your cunt and hold themselves just far enough to make you shift your hips forward in search of them, only to be held back by his arm’s weight. Mean like his spat words and the grip with which he grabs your jaw, squeezing tight and puffing your cheeks out a bit in an attempt to get you to focus; to knock some sense into that strained, precious little brain of yours.

“Pretty fuckin’ simple task for a soldier, if y’ask me.”

Because deep down, he truly cares about your well-being. He only wants the best for his girl, and the dynamic between you.

And you wouldn’t want to disappoint your superior even more than you already have, now, would you?

He lets go of your face to allow you to finish, a nervous and newfound quietness croaking in your throat in addition to your already shy voice after his display of aggression; “—except when otherwise ordered by a Commanding Officer…’”

“Good girl,” he drags upon your completion, along with his hand that sneaks back into your panties. You jump from the coldness of his skin but he barely pays any mind to it. “Keep going for me, now, pretty. Go ‘head and skip some.”

It’s a repeated process; you recite what you know, mess up due to his cruel ways of sadistic teasing, and watch on from the outside as your self-respect crumbles so easily. You acknowledge it, you feel it, and you willingly ignore it because you know that whatever he plans on giving you afterwards will far surpass any other means to pleasure.

His time, his teachings and guidance, his own pleasure. They’re better than gifts, really.

“‘No item of uniform which has not been authorized is to be worn.’” You mumble for the entirety of the final sentence, now expecting him to get on you for not speaking clearly enough.

Instead, his middle finger delves between your folds and dips into your cunt at last, ripping a hiss and another whine from high in your throat from his rough treatment.

“And who authorizes your uniform?” he finally asks.

He adds his ring finger and the fullness in your cunt would be uncomfortable if the heel of his palm wasn’t digging into your clit at the particular angle. It numbs the stretch and your worries, so much so you nearly forget what he had asked you.

You gasp, eyes shooting open to meet cold, empty office in stark contrast to the warm, staggering frame pressed up against your back. Every muscle and every flex beneath the cotton material of his shirt being embedded into your mind.

“You do, Sir—mph!—it’s only you.”

An approving rumble from his chest vibrates against your back, and you lean into him with a soft moan when he curls his fingers upward in that way he knows you respond to the best. Head leant back on his shoulder, you hold onto his arm to stabilize your spinning mind once he begins slipping his rough fingers in and out of your sensitive pussy more firmly.

“So you show up to base in this pretty, little dress on your off-day, and expect to leave here without any punishment?”

His words exceed intimidating to a great extent, but the way he coos them so gently right by your ear leads directly to you scrambling them into nothing more than sweet blurbs and mumbles. He continues his short scolding as if he doesn’t know how dumb he’s got you already, ready to make you bite the consequences for your inability to respond to him later.

“Distractin’ me ‘nd all the other men here while we work, like you don’t know what your body does to them. What you’re worth around here, to the lot of bastards falling asleep with their dicks in their hands to the pretty image of you dressed like this,” he emphasizes with the tug of your dress’s ending hem.

“Sir,” you whine, not paying a single nod to his language because your numbed mind can simply no longer compute it. Muffled and unclear, though the mean and deep drawl that bleeds through pushes you all the much closer to bliss.

“Feels good, I—please… ’m so, so close, Sir—!”

You whine and clasp your hand down on his arm for some sort of spiritual stabilization, and he only picks up the pace. He works you up so quickly after edging you for what felt like hours, as this time he gives absolutely no notion to relenting.

“That right?” Of course, you can’t respond with much more than a whimper as you rock your hips back and forth on his hard thigh, his skilled fingers working you up to ecstasy.

“Yes, yes ‘m gonna—it’s too much, Sir, ‘m gonna come—!”

He chuckles, his arm around your waist pulling you impossibly closer into him. You convulse around his fingers and moan through your high as he militantly, yet somehow so expertly, turns your vision to stars and your limbs into a limp mess atop him. It’s like he knows your body better than you do yourself, making you come harder with his fingers alone than anyone has ever. You thank him profusely, soft words of mantra like music to his ears as he decides what to do with you next.

He gives you no time to recover before he’s wrapping both his hefty arms around you and hauling you up in front of him, big palm instantly meeting with your shoulder blade to shove you down on the wooden desk and ripping a gasp from high in your lungs. He leans over you, caging you in as he soothes his hand across your forehead; his version of intimacy, and whatnot.

You’re panting, utterly exasperated, but simply can’t help the way you wiggle your hips back against his to chase that good friction. He laughs at your display of neediness for his cock, knowing it’ll be a much longer while before he’ll let you have it.

“My stupid fuckin’ toy,” he mutters softly against your skin, and it sounds just as good as any flattering compliment would.

He takes the hem of your dress and hikes it up to reveal your ass, humming at the sight before leaning back in to kiss your temple. Facial hair tickling and invading your senses, nearly feeling like a sweet treat to shush the way you whine out with his hard bulge pressed up against where you’re most sensitive.

Thoughts of what he could do to you right now running rampant through both of your minds, none differing from each other nor unwanted from either party.

“You’re gonna let me use this body however I like, until you learn to behave yourself ‘round your coworkers. Till you learn a fuckin’ lesson for once. Sound quite alright, sweetheart?”

#cod mw2 #john price #captain john price #captain price #john price x reader #john price x female reader #john price smut

[fangswbenefits]

Unexpected

Summary: Astarion has barely ever considered starting a family with you in the old-fashioned way, but an unexpected conversation might just trigger that urge.

Pairing: Astarion x femalex!Tav

Warnings: 18+. Astarion's POV. Breeding kink. Creampie. P in V sex. Body worship. Vampire bite. Blood drinking. Precum.

Word count: 2.2k

As far as Astarion was concerned, babes were merely drool and poop dispensers.  

He could definitely do without having to be around one for more than the strictly necessary.

And today was one of those days.

You had offered to look after one of your friend's toddler, but he had somehow been left on duty as you worked around the kitchen.

Typical.

He glared at the tiny human that stood on his thighs, wobbling dangerously and was only kept upright thanks to his firm hold.

Astarion glanced around to ensure that you weren't nearby before he mischievously bared his fangs at the baby.

He expected fear or a screech.

But no.

She merely glared at him for a brief moment before bursting into a high-pitched laughter that pierced through his ears and made him wince in pain.

Had it not been for his fast reflexes, she would have had her tiny and prying paws inside his mouth as she tried to reach for his fangs.

“No – these are no toy,” he grumbled in utmost annoyance.

You walked into the room, straightening your dress whilst giving him a taunting glare. “Look at you! Bonding.”

He held the babe as far as he could from his face as she giggled enthusiastically, clearly finding in him some amusement.

He scoffed. “Please. Even the Nine Hells can't be as torturous as this.”

Clicking your tongue, you approached to sweep her into your arms, which caused an infernal reaction from her as she broke into a screech that would put a banshee to shame.

“See? She prefers Uncle Astarion.”

He rolled his eyes, returning his focus on the book had been peacefully enjoying before this unfortunate ordeal.

As you managed to quiet her down by shifting her attention to a stuffed owl bear toy, two soft knocks were heard on the front door.

Finally.

You allowed your friend inside who promptly took her babe in her arms.

“Please tell me she behaved,” she said apologetically. “She's teething and her temper can be overbearing at times.”

“It was no bother. She was absolutely delightful and even bonded with Uncle Astarion.”

She chuckled alongside you.

He could feel a frown grow on his face as she turned to him. “How come you two haven't considered having one of your own?”

Astarion's eyes nearly bulged out.

“Oh, it has never crossed our minds, really,” you immediately blurted out, pinching the babe's cheeks affectionately. “We're better off this way.”

Now that set him off.

“Actually, I have considered it.”

Far more often than he dared admitting, but it was not more than wishful thinking.

He was fortunate enough not to worry about unwanted pregnancies, as being a vampire spawn made the feat nigh impossible.

But he still wondered how you'd look carrying his child.

Especially with you being such the motherly type.

His eyes fell to your heaving chest for a moment, and he vaguely imagined how your breasts would swell.

“Oh? You have?” you sounded more surprised than shocked.

Your friend shifted a glance between you and him. “I'm sure Astarion here would warm up to the idea fast – so to speak.”

How he detested puns.

Once she bid her farewell and you parted ways with a gentle kiss to the babe's temple, he found himself content as silence took over.

“You meant that?”

He pressed the book in his hands closed. “Us having a child?”

You nodded.

“I don't see why not.”

You began undoing the laces of your dress as you paced into the room.

“Well, it's not like we can physically do it.”

Astarion stood on his feet, following you closely behind.

“We can.”

Your head turned abruptly to him. “You're just having a laugh, aren't you?”

Astarion had read enough about half-vampires – dhampirs – to know it wasn't as hard to achieve as one might think.

He would just need to be very persistent and be well fed. 

“It is possible.”

You chuckled. “I think we would be on babe number four if it were truly possible.”

As he walked up behind you, he planted a soft kiss to the nape of your neck, moving his masterful fingers down the lacing of your corset.

He adored having you wear the most exquisite clothes he could embroider for you, but he equally adored helping you get undressed.

Just for him.

“But the real question, darling, is… would you want me to?”

As the corset loosened around you, he could see your breasts expand into fullness.

“Want what?”

The chemise underneath hid most of them from sight, but he could see your nipples faintly protruding against the sheet fabric.

He could feel himself already hardening from the topic of the conversation alone.

“Do you want me to breed you?”

His blunt words made you gasp. “You always come inside, Astarion… and nothing happens.”

Was that disappointment he detected in your voice?

Gods above…

That only served to fuel his lust.

You stepped out of your crimson dress and he shifted languidly until he was on his knees in front of you.

“What are you doing?”

He lifted your chemise just above your navel, and trailed soft kisses along your lower abdomen, feeling you occasionally flinching under his cold lips. 

Your fingers tangled in his curls as a soft gasp left your lips. “Astarion?”

He did his best to ignore the ever-growing twitch against his trousers.

“Maybe we should rectify this predicament.”

You ran the pads of your fingers along his scalp in such a loving manner that he found himself humming in approval as his cold lips began to travel downwards.

“And how could you even do such a thing?”

Oh. You still thought he was bullshitting you?

He glared up at you with half-hooded eyes. “Hold on to that pole and place your leg on my shoulder.”

Astarion took pride in being a giving and caring lover who resorted to words laced with sensuality, to get you all worked up for him.

You arched a brow at him, but held onto the iron rod of the bed canopy while lifting your leg and resting it on his shoulder.

From this new angle, he was able to spot a growing damp spot in your underwear that nearly made him salivate.

The fabric clung to your folds, allowing him to spot the outline of your throbbing swell.

It seemed that your body was already getting ready for what was to come.

Hungrily, he leaned forward to place an open-mouthed kiss on the already damp fabric.

You bucked your hips instinctively against him as he teased your folds with his tongue.

He felt the first drops of precum staining his own clothes, and had no choice but to undo the lacing at the front so he could ease the unbearable strain.

The heel of your foot dug into his back as he kept adding more dampness to your underwear with his saliva, enjoying the sight of the outline of your folds.

With one hand firmly closed around his cock, he moved his lips to your inner thigh, earning a groan of protest from you.

He chuckled against your heated skin, squeezing some more precum from his tip, enjoying how it dribbled down his knuckles.

“Stop teasing…” you groaned, softly tugging at his curls.

But Astarion had something else in mind.

“I should be well fed before attempting this, if the words on those books and scrolls are to be trusted.”

A soft whimper spilled from your mouth and you pulled your underwear to the side with a sigh of relief.

But Astarion found no relief in that as he couldn't tear his eyes away from your soaked folds and the swell that peeked between them.

His cock gave him a warning twitch, as more precum dribbled outs from the tip.

You had broken his concentration with a low blow, but he still managed to part his lips, raking his fangs across the sensitive skin of your inner thigh.

“You've… never….” you gasped in astonishment as the realisation of his intentions hit you.

“There's a first time for everything, darling.”

Unlike your delectable neck, he had no experience catching your pulse in this area, so he had to drag his lips slowly, in search of that rhythmic pulsing that drove him insane.

“Astarion…” you moaned, rolling your hips.

Once he found what he was looking for, he dragged his tongue along the sweet spot before sinking his fangs into it.

He had anticipated you would squirm under his touch, so he anchored you in place by hooking his arm around your thigh.

Astarion reckoned he would never tire of feeling how hard and warm his cock would get whenever he fed on you, your blood rushing through his body like molten fire. 

As he kept downing your blood and keeping you steady, he began to feel the veins that snaked around his cock bulging and he nearly lost it.

Your fingers were still buried in his hair, tugging firmly as your hips rolled on pure instinct.

Through his bloodlust, he managed to shift his gaze only to be met with strings of your wetness dangling from the entrance.

Gods… you were so ready to be bred.

He could feel your arousal.

He could taste it on his tongue.

His hand was doing an adequate job at giving his now heated cock some relief, but he knew he would only find true solace in being buried deep inside you.

Your blood had begun to spill from the corners of his mouth and he felt it trailing down his chin and neck.

With all the willpower he could muster in that moment of blinding hunger, he managed to tear away from you skin, rising to his feet as your leg dropped from his shoulder only to be caught on his arm, effectively keeping you spread for him.

His cock accidentally brushed against the twin marks on your inner thigh, blood coating the leaking tip of his cock.

He let out a hiss as the warm liquid dribbled down his length, mixing with his precum.

Your hand dropped to the back of his neck and you pulled him into a searing kiss, tasting yourself on his soaked lips.

With ease, he shifted closer until the tip of his cock was nudging at your entrance.

You broke the kiss. “Do you think you drank enough?”

His cock twitched violently from the despair in your words.

“There is only one way to find out, darling.”

You licked your lips, jerking your hips to have his tip slide inside.

Then he felt your hand snake in between your bodies until your fingers were wrapped around his length, giving it a trying squeeze.

“You're so, so hard, Astarion…”

Astarion could get even harder just from your praise.

His cock twitched again and he couldn't stop his hips from bucking, gradually burying himself deep within your warmth.

He sank all the way through, bringing his other hand to close around the one you had around the iron rod of the canopy, desperate for support as he thrusted into you.

Soon enough, you had matched his tempo, moving in unison with him.

From this angle, he could see the faint streaks of blood spread around his cock as it spread your folds, allowing him to see how swollen you were for him.

“So eager to be bred, aren't you?” he said in between groans.

You whimpered in response, unbuttoning the front of your chemise.

Astarion nearly came as your bare breasts came into view, swaying with each thrust. Your nipples had hardened completely and he felt his balls tighten.

“I want to see how big they will get.” he moaned more to himself, knowing he was getting closer and closer to his release.

Your mouth fell open but no words came out.

Instead, he felt you squeeze his cock desperately, drawing a primal growl from deep within him.

He truly wanted to know how bigger your breasts would get from carrying his child.

His balls tightened even harder and he felt the familiar wave of overwhelming release wash over his body.

He somehow managed to keep his gaze on your swaying breasts as he spilled deep inside you, feeling his cum shooting rhythmically inside you.

Desperate to feel your own contractions, he placed his thumb between your folds, circling your swell and slowly but surely driving you over the edge.

“Let go, darling…” he urged desperately, wanting the last drops of his seed to be milked out of him forcefully by your contractions.

As your breath quickened and your arms looped around his neck, he knew you were a goner.

You stilled momentarily, rhythmically contracting around him with a gasp.

He glanced down to see the bulging veins along his cock being squeezed as cum began to spill out around him.

Astarion had no idea how much cum he had spilled inside you, but what he did know was that he would gladly spend it all if it meant getting you pregnant with his child.

As you shuddered against him, he placed a soft kiss to your temple.

“Do you think it was enough?”

He chuckled. “I won't stop until it is.”

Masterlist

#astarion smut #astarion x female reader #astarion x tav #astarion x female tav #astarion x oc #astarion x f!reader #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion bg3

[starkwlkr]

was i such a fool? | mark webber

part 1

ENGLAND

You felt embarrassed. You didn’t know who was the person who spread the confirmed rumor around the paddock, but you knew that being in the paddock was the last thing you wanted to do.

Your daughter, Grace, had been reading in her room while you were in your home office replying to some emails. Zak had let you get some time off, which you were hesitant to take at first but you knew how chaotic it was going to get in the paddock if you were present.

“Mommy!” Grace called for you from her room.

“What is it, my love?” You asked, closing your laptop as you stood up and walked to her room. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, i finished my book. Can we go to the bookstore and get more?” Grace asked.

“Of course we can, baby.” You replied. As you were about to leave to go back to your office, Grace spoke once again.

“Can I go to a race?”

Grace had never attended a race before. She knew what your job was and why it required you to travel so much, but she never once attended a race. It surprised you that she even thought about it.

“A race . . .” You sighed. “You really want to go to a race?”

Grace nodded. “I want to see the fast cars.”

You thought about it for a second. It would be nice for Grace to see a race after years of only seeing it on tv. But then again only several people knew that she existed and you liked it that way.

“I’ll think about it.”

TIME SKIP TO ABU DHABI 2022

MCLAREN GARAGE

Grace watched as several men dressed in orange with helmets on sat in their chairs. She was introduced to the pit crew by you. Everyone on the team was more than happy to meet her. She was extremely excited to be able to watch her first race in person.

“I’ll be over there watching the race, okay? Stay here with Lucy.” You told Grace. Lucy was an old friend from school. When you explained that Grace wanted to attend a race, she offered to look after the girl while you worked.

“Okay. I love you.” Grace gave you a kiss on the cheek.

“I love you more, my love.” You replied and hugged her before you left.

From a distance, Mark watched the girl wave goodbye to you. It made him feel like the worst person ever. How could he do that to you? You never deserved it. You were always so supportive of him, comforting him when he needed it and that all changed the second Mark kissed someone else.

He thought about going up to Grace and making small talk, but he knew you wouldn’t like it. As much as he wanted to, he didn’t want to upset you even more. Seeing her, so close yet so far away, brought sadness to the older man’s heart. She had his eyes, his smile, they even shared the same laughter, something you loved when you were dating Mark.

By the end of the race, he had decided to talk to you.

He tried to find you, but it seemed like you knew he wanted to talk so you hid from him. Only it wasn’t like that. Grace wanted to walk on the track so you took her. Lucy was tired so you told her that you would meet her back at the hotel. She held your hand as you and her walked around. It was a perfect moment for you and your daughter.

“Did you enjoy your first race?” You asked.

“Yes! The cars go faster than on the tv, it was so cool!” Grace exclaimed. “Can I go to another race?”

“You’ll have to wait until next year, my love, and you have school. I don’t want you missing a day of school because of a race.” You explained.

“Okay. . .” She sighed. “Who was the man that was in the garage?” She suddenly asked.

“There’s a lot of men in there, Grace.”

“He didn’t wear orange like the rest of the team. He had one of these too.” Grace pointed to her paddock pass. “I think Lucy said he used to be a driver.”

You had an idea of who Grace was talking about and you didn’t like it.

When you made it back to the Mclaren garage, you saw that it was almost empty. A few members of the pit crew were cleaning up, but that didn’t catch your attention. It was Mark that was pacing around the garage.

“Mommy, that’s the man I was talking about.” Grace whispered to you.

Mark noticed your presence and stopped pacing. “Hi.” Was all that he said.

“It’s getting late, Mark. You should go back to your hotel room, get some sleep. I know you don’t like early morning flights.” You said to the Australian.

“Hear me out, please. Just this once and I’ll leave you alone. Give me five minutes.” He pleaded. The remaining pit crew took that as a sign to give you privacy so they left.

Grace held onto your hand even tighter. “Who’s that?” She whispered again to you.

“His name is Mark.” You said.

Four words was all it took to break Mark Webber even more. He was just Mark to his daughter and he had to accept that.

“Three minutes and that’s it.” You said.

“I’ll take that.”

@glow-ish @vicurious28 @dannyriccsupremacy @viennakarma @pear-1206 @nathalielovesonedirection @jaydaaasworld @shimmermotorsport @honethatty12 @a-beaverhausen

#formula 1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 #mark webber one shot #mark webber x reader #mark webber imagine #mark webber fanfic #mark webber #mclaren team principal!reader