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bebebelll · 5 months

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does anyone know her dad? | dn3 x reader (part 3)

paring: daniel ricciardo x toto's daughter!reader, daniel ricciardo x wolff & shcumacher!reader warning: nothing (google translated german because i studied that language for 2 years and dont know a single word anymore) notes: part 1, part 2 and part 4 are recommended reading

ynquads god i love what the us grand prixs do to this man. there's something in the air and the cowboy hats are hot. i truly feel really blessed to have met you, to spend my life with you, to have been by your side and to have had you by mine. i just really love you ❤️❤️❤️

liked by danielricciardo, susie_wolff and 1 184 537 others

username haha jumping off a building now bye

danielricciardo you really love me ❤️

ynquads i really really love you danielricciardo really really really? ynquads really really really really danielricciardo wanna sneak out and go makeout? ynquads YEAH alex_albon no please dont we're on the same plane the restroom is small the walls are thin

maxverstappen1 gross

username sobbing screaming throwing up (fuck i am jealous)

danielricciardo i am so obsessed with you baby

ynquads i fucking adore you

f1wagsupdate as we all know that the figure skater and danny ric's girlfriend yn shcumacher is the child of toto wolff and michael shcumacher's sister, we decided to go on a deep dive. these are really the only photos we could find from facebook. we could only find this one photo of katarina shcumacher and not a single one her and toto together. but isn't toto just adorable with baby yn? and enjoy baby yn and max verstappen looking super cool!

liked by 46 956

username MAX VERSTAPPEN

username how is mick not using that last photo every year on their birthdays like i would print a pic like that of my siblings and put them up around school hallways and on the fridge

ynquads do not worry, auntie sophie and vic show that photo around every christmas

username ooh its too bad theres no photos of them together

username same bro i cant stop imagining some summer love ynquads they met a bar in berlin and got so fucking drunk that its a miracle they didn't get alcohol poisoning. i am so truly so really serious when i say that i'd be surprised if they even exchanged names before i was already cooking in my mom's stomach username what the fuck you saying ynquads i've seen an old homevideo about the morning after. i talk about it in therapy every week

username i love how yn is just lurking around every post about her and her parents

yt video: YN SHCUMACHER ATTENDS COTA - BRUNDLE GRIDWALK

comments:

username love the passive aggressive attitude to every camera she saw

username truly a lovely experience. yn kissed daniel before the race. she kissed max's cheek when he won and said something scandalous in german/dutch based on everyone's faces. i also saw a video of her laughing on the ground when lewis dsq was announced

username WHAT THE FUCK ARE THEY SAYING IS THAT GERMAN

username yn: they are filming you, dad. you are very popular. toto: dont give them too much attention. you had a long flight. you just go and take a nap before the race. brundle and toto talk yn: well see how intact our relationship is after the race username intact 😂😂 lord that really is torger's kid

danielricciardo this woman is the single reason ive survived some darker times. she's so beautiful, lovely and sweet. elegant on and off the ice ❤️❤️the day i do not gush and drool about her is the day i'm dead. so in love

liked by ynquads and 2 487 577 others

username why am i crying

username cant come to the phone right now busy driving through concrete walls and off a cliff

ynquads i am THE luckiest girl ❤️❤️❤️

danielricciardo if youre lucky then ive been blessed by god ynquads dont you dare i win this danielricciardo youre not the one who was just on their knees i win ynquads come here and ill wrestle you danielricciardo only if you kiss the booboos better after

username am i the only one getting real suspicious about these "i love you much" post that they've been putting out for the entire month??? like what you doing all this for

username EXACTLY username they've been together for like four or five years too sooooo you know what people do around that timestamp 🤭🤭🤭

username just what the hell is that comment about being on their knees daniel

ynquads instagram story

danielricciardo funny thing about vegas

liked by ynquads, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 3 483 573 others

username BITCH WHAT

susie_wolff if you got married in a las vegas chappel, you are grounded till your 80th birthday yn - toto wolff

ynquads i didn't actually expect to love being engage this much

danielricciardo whats got you excited about this then? ynquads the fact that im gonna get to marry YOU maxverstappen1 stop being gross maxverstappen1 i already suffered through watching the proposal

username love this i want to snort this i want to inject this into my blood but did you get engaged and then eat junkfood while watching princess diaries 2

ynquads don't tell anyone 🤫 danielricciardo really dont tell anyone that amount of junkfood was not in the diet plan

@topguncultleader @eternalharry

#formula 1 x reader #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo insta au #toto wolff #f1 x reader #formula 1 social media au

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murphyoclock · 1 year

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The New Year's Party

hey god, it’s me again 🧎‍♀️

Summary: The Peaky Blinders cast celebrates New Year's Eve together. Cillian can‘t hide his desire for (Y/N) anymore…

Warnings: smut, drinking, smoking

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

A/N: Some steamy smut for y'all! Please comment, reblog and engage! I’d love to hear your feedback 💕

"Thank you, please keep the change ... And a happy new year!" you smile politely as the cab stops at Paul Anderson's townhouse in London's South Kensington. You jump out of the car and a fresh breeze hits your bare legs, making you wish you had put on some tights. You're wearing a short, shimmering black dress with long, sheer sleeves paired with a silver choker and some simple black heels.

Heading towards the door, your gaze wanders around the bold neighborhood and its beautiful Victorian architecture. It's definitely a posher part of town, but not too posh to feel unwelcome. You ring the doorbell and your introverted self prays someone you know will answer. "Oh damn, look who it is!" Paul chants, embracing you in a tight, long-overdue hug. There's music and laughter pouring out of the house. "You're breaking my ribcage," you gasp dramatically and he immediately lets go.

"Sorry," he laughs, "you know how excited I get to see my favorite people again. Let me take your coat."

Paul puts away your coat and then you follow him into his large, open kitchen where many familiar faces are awaiting you.

"(Y/N), you look stunning!" Sophie exclaims, handing you a glass of bubbling champagne. Her warm voice makes you smile with joy. "Thank you, love. You look beautiful yourself." You exchange a few words with the other members of the Peaky Blinders cast, but your real focus is on something else. Your eyes wander around the open kitchen and living room, scanning the place for one person in particular. But to your disappointment, the person you've been most excited about is nowhere in sight.

What feels like hours of chatting about life, the last season, and resolutions for the next year pass before you can't control your nosiness anymore. "Where's Cillian?" you ask, taking a casual sip from your second glass of champagne. Tom shrugs his shoulders, "I couldn't reach him ... as usual. Guess he's celebrating with the family."

"Oh okay," is the only answer you manage to give. You take another sip of your drink, trying not to come off too saddened by Tom's suggestion.

Just as you plan to get another drink, a large hand is placed on your shoulder. "I guess someone's looking for me, eh?" a deep, well-known voice interrupts your little conversation. You smile nervously, trying to hide your embarrassment about the fact that you were asking for him. "Hey, Cillian. We were just talking about you," you stutter. He pulls you in for a warm hug, letting you inhale his calming scent you love so much.

Cillian is the most irritating man you've ever laid your eyes on. Ever since the incident at Helen's birthday party six months ago, his behavior's been confusing the hell out of you…

....

The house is even more crowded now. To your surprise, there must be around 80 people here. The loud music and alcohol are slowly getting to you, causing you to feel tired and slightly dizzy. You do enjoy a good party, but your social battery tends to die quickly if there’s too much going on. At around 11 pm, you decide you need some fresh air. Squeezing through the dancing crowd, you make your way upstairs to the third floor. Paul has a little reading room with a balcony you know about. Thankfully, there’s not much going on up there. But as soon as you open the door to the room, you notice a male figure sitting in the corner’s reading chair.

“Thank god, it’s only you,” Cillian notes in relief.

“Can I come in?” you ask, hoping the answer will be yes. “I just wanted to smoke a cigarette on the balcony.”

“Sure,” he answers with a smile on his beautiful face.

You walk past Cillian, avoiding eye contact, and lighten a cigarette on the balcony. You take a deep drag, the smoke immediately calming your nerves.

Footsteps are approaching you. "Are you hiding or why aren't you smoking on the patio with the others?"

"I think my social battery is dead. And it's not even midnight," you laugh at yourself, offering him a cigarette. "What about you? Didn't you arrive like half an hour ago?"

He grabs a cigarette and furrows his brows. "My social battery is basically nonexistent today. Also, I'm too invested in this poetry collection," he notes, holding up the little book he's been carrying around.

"A poetry collection?" you ask, a big smile on your face. "I didn't know you were into that."

"Why? You think it's lame?" He raises an eyebrow at you.

"No, I read them myself."

He laughs, taking a drag from his cigarette. "Really?", he questions, now staring right into your eyes. "I thought you were more into other literature."

"Like what?" you ask, almost coming off as annoyed. You hate it when people underestimate you.

"Like 50 Shades of Grey or so."

You scoff, now visibly offended by his answer. The cold outside becomes unbearable, and you step inside, Cillian following you. He sits back in the reading chair, but you just stand there, giving him a death stare. He notices your facial expression and giggles in amusement. "I was joking. Don't you remember you're the one who got me into poetry?" he asks, crossing his legs. "At Helen's birthday party, when we got so drunk and almost ended up fucking on her bed?"

You immediately stiffen at his rhetorical question, not daring to look at him. Didn't you agree to never mention that incident again? After all, it was a huge mistake. You didn't have sex, but you still made out with a married, much older man.

"How are the kids and wife doing?" you snap provocatively. A feeling of anger overcomes you. For the past months, Cillian's been acting hot and cold. He'd cut you off whenever you tried to talk about what had happened at Helen's, warning you about the possible consequences. And now he's just casually mentioning it? But you aren't allowed to talk about it?

He finishes his drink and rubs his chin in distress.

"Well ... Promise me you won't tell anyone, (Y/N)," he insists, his cold blue eyes meeting yours.

Oh, you think to yourself. You weren't expecting a severe possible answer. "I promise."

"We're currently separated and I think I want to go on with a divorce."

You title your head and give him a look of sympathy. "I'm so sorry, Cillian. How are you holding up?"

“I know it sounds harsh, but I feel fucking relieved, (Y/N). The divorce is way overdue. I mean, the last time we had a real date and sex was like a year ago.”

His blunt answer takes you by surprise. You feel flattered and excited that he would tell you something so personal but at the same time, you wonder why he'd confess it to you.

He notices the confusion on your face. "Don't get me wrong, (Y/N)," he shifts in his chair, "sex isn't everything in a marriage. I just wanted to give you an idea of our current emotional and intimate state," he chuckles, and you smile awkwardly.

"Guess I've gotten closer to having sex with you than your wife then," you mumble, referring to the incident and all the sex scenes you filmed together. What the hell did I just say? Regret and embarrassment wash over you.

"Sorry, I think I'm going back downstairs."

You turn around on your heels and head towards the door, but the second you do, Cillian grabs you by the wrist, spinning you around to face him. "I know you think about me at night," he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. His touch is gentle and you notice your breathing intensifying. "You get nervous around me. It's kinda cute."

The way he uses his words and voice makes your blood freeze immediately. It's not like you're inexperienced, but the situation feels so surreal, you can't differentiate between disbelief and excitement. Cillian leads you back to the armchair he'd been sitting on before. He sits down and pulls you onto his lap. At this point, your brain is complete mush, too perplexed to realize what's happening. What you do know is that all those little scenarios you make up before going to bed, seem to become true.

He puts his arm around your waist, allowing him to pull you closer to him. With his other hand, Cillian traces down your bare thigh, leaving goosebumps behind. A small moan escapes your lips and he's now cupping your cheek before finally smashing his lips onto yours, letting your body experience pure ecstasy. Naturally, you grind against his crotch, and his mouth travels to your neck, leaving warm but visible marks behind.

"Cillian," you softly say as reality hits you. "We can't do this, it's inappropriate and against our contract." He stops for a second and gives you a confused look. "It's unprofessional," you add. No matter how hard you try to compel yourself, your body decides to take over you. You giggle, feeling ridiculed by your own words.

"Well, I'm afraid I can no longer remain professional," Cillian smirks, grabbing your ass and pulling you in for another kiss.

Your thoughts and feelings are interrupted when you hear Paul's voice calling, "Everyone downstairs! The 10-minute countdown is on!"

You shriek and jump onto your feet. "We should go," you insist. "I don't wanna risk getting caught."

Cillian takes a deep breath, rubbing his chin in frustration. He gets up and towers over you. "Take off your panties," he demands, his voice sounding more dominant than before.

"Wh-at?" you stutter, furrowing your brows in confusion. "Cil, we really..."

"I'm not going to repeat myself," he cuts you off. "Take. them. off."

You look around the room, making sure the door's still locked. Facing Cillian again, you do as he's told you, and take off the black lace panties you're wearing under your dress. He gives you a satisfied smirk which makes you blush. Not in a million years would you've thought someone could hold that much power over you. You don't know what it is, but the way Cillian treats you makes you want to relinquish yourself to him completely.

You hand over the panties and watch as he puts them in his pockets. "I didn't expect you to be this wet for me," he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead. His icy blue eyes are filled with lust as he finally whispers, "I'm going to ruin you tonight."

With that, Cillian leaves the room, not looking back at you once.

---

A few minutes pass, but you're still too stunned to comprehend the situation Cillian just put you in. Your breathing is still heavy and the heat between your legs doesn't seem to calm down either. The fact that you aren't wearing panties anymore, doesn't make the situation easier. What the hell was he doing?

Snapping back into reality, you rush back downstairs and join the rest of the party. You grab another glass of champagne and down it quickly, hoping it will clear your head.

"Wow, slow down, (Y/N)," Tom says, giving you a worried look. "Everything alright?"

"Uh yeah, I'm fine. It's just ... so warm in here, isn't it?" you explain, fanning yourself with your hands.

"Not really, but take this instead," he states, handing you his glass of water which you immediately drink. "Common, love, let's get this stupid countdown behind us."

Tom puts his hand on your lower back and leads you to where the rest of the PB cast is waiting for Paul's toast. You scan the room for Cillian but can't see him anywhere.

"Alright, party people!" Paul shouts, his drunken self stumbling to the living room's center. "It's time to get this new year started, eh?"

"Yeah, give us a Toast, Paul!" Sophie teases, the room bursting into laughter. Indeed, Paul goes on to give the best toast you've ever heard so far. When the clock finally strikes midnight, you fall into each other's arms, wishing everyone a happy new year. Then, your eyes catch Cillian's figure at the bottom of the stairs. The moment he realizes you're staring right back at him, he gives you a nod and disappears upstairs. Making sure no one is watching you, you sneak away from the celebrating crowd and follow him upstairs.

A few people are standing in the hallway on the second floor, chatting, laughing, and smoking. You walk past a few doors and suddenly, you're pulled into the bathroom. Cillian slams the door behind you, pushing you against it.

"Cill-," you try to protest, but he cuts you off, placing his index finger on your mouth.

"Shhhh," he whispers, pressing his forehead against yours. "Better be quiet or they'll hear you."

His voice is low and deep, causing your heart to flutter down your chest and your brain to turn into complete mush again. Fuck, I'm pathetic; how does he do that?

Cillian grabs your chin softly, your lips now only a few inches away from each other. "I'm here to claim my new year's kiss," he smiles before crushing his lips onto yours passionately. Your whole body gives in, allowing his tongue entrance into your mouth. The kiss intensifies as he tries to pull you even closer and your hands get lost in his hair. No matter how close your bodies already are, it's not enough.

In one quick moment, he lifts your dress up and over your head, exposing your naked body to him. "Fuck, you're beautiful," he moans, cupping your breasts and sucking on your hard nipples gently. His lust-driven blue eyes meet yours and he gives you a smirk. A sudden wave of shyness washes over you, turning your cheeks bright pink. Cillian chuckles, clearly enjoying your innocence.

"I want to see those pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Get on your knees," he orders and without thinking about it twice, you do as you're told. He takes off his shirt while you unbutton his jeans, pulling them and his boxers down to expose his already hard cock. You gasp for a second before you take his length into your hand, slowly pumping up and down to prepare him for the warmth of your mouth. You place your lips on his tip and open your mouth, taking more and more of his length as you bop your head back and forth.

"That's good, baby," Cillian moans. "Keep doing that. Relax your throat." As you keep going, the wetness between your legs becomes almost unbearable from all the praise and reassurance he's giving you.

"Get up," he insists, pulling you to your feet. Your hand wanders to Cillian's neck, and your lips meet once again, making you wish you could do this forever.

"Cillian," you whine, your legs feeling weak.

"Yeah?" he smiles, and you know exactly what he's waiting for. He spins you around so that he's facing your back. He then pushes you against the sink before giving you a sharp slap on the ass. Pleasure takes over your body as you try to form a sentence to speak.

"What do you want, love?" he asks, pure amusement in his tone.

"Please fuck me!" you shriek as his palm meets your ass again. How does the pain feel good and terrible at the same time?

"Will you be a good girl for me then, eh?" he asks, his mouth on your ear.

At this point, you're a shaking mess. Never in your life have you experienced that amount of excitement and pleasure in your body. Cillian drives you crazy, and he knows it.

"I'll fucking ruin you as I promised," he whispers. He grabs both your ass cheeks and spreads them, exposing your swollen and wet cunt. You swear you start seeing stars as his warm tongue touches your wet folds and as he collects all the juices from you. Your hands hold on to the sink, helping you to not lose balance.

"Cillian, I'm gonna cum," a desperate cry escapes your lips.

"Not yet, baby," he answers, pulling away. "I want my cock inside you. You're so ready for me," Cillian moans, placing his tip at your entrance.

"I know you can take it, (Y/N)," he grunts as he slowly pushes himself inside you. You roll your eyes in pleasure as his cock stretches you out.

"Oh fuck," you moan. Much to your pleasurable discomfort, he doesn't allow you to adjust to his size; instead, he takes up the pace, ensuring you'll be sore in the morning.

"You're just as tight as I'd imagined,"

Cillian's hand wanders around your throat, softly squeezing it as he keeps thrusting into you.

"Please," you beg for him to make you cum.

The begging seems to excite him even more and he takes up speed, slowly sending you over the edge. "Cum for me, babe," he insists.

Both your moans synchronize as you're both about to reach your climax. Cillian grabs your ass even harder, now pushing his cock deeper into you than before.

"Fu-ck," you groan in unison as your climax washes over you. Your legs are shaking uncontrollably when Cillian pulls out, his cum leaking out of you. Exhausting breathing echoes through the room, and it takes you two a minute to collect yourself.

Cillian gives you a warm smile and grabs a towel to clean you up. Then, he places his forehead on yours again, not saying anything. A few seconds of heavy breathing pass before he takes your hand and places it on his chest.

"You drive me crazy, (Y/N). I don't want to spend another day without you by my side."

#cillian murphy #cillian x reader #cillian smut #tommy shelby x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #cillian murphy x reader #peaky blinders smut #thomas shelby x y/n #cillian murphy fanfic

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bellewintersroe · 7 months

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Max Verstappen X HornerDaughter!

Part 7, here’s the LINK for part 6.

Max throws a luxurious 26th birthday on a yacht in Monaco. Despite it being a fairly civilised meet up the drinks flow a little too easily when the majority of guests have retired for the night. Leni finds herself being one of the party goers drinking with Max until the late hours of the morning. Things only get a little too out of hand from there.

warnings: no spoilers but obviously alcohol consumption, swearing, Max and Leni are giving each other the eyes 👀 mentions of specific antics I will not go into detail about. Taglist: @ironmaiden1313 @callsignwidow @fangirl125reader @norassimpingzone @roseseraj @eugene-emt-roe @copper-boom @its-elias-world @cassiopeiia24 @larastark3107

“Happy birthday! Happy birthday!” I cheered, the birthday boy holding a hand out for me as I climbed on the boat, handing Max the biggest bottle of alcohol and a card over.

“Leni!” He exclaimed catching a sight of the present. “You didn’t have to!”

“No it’s fine, you should celebrate with it.” I wobbled slightly before setting my feet down on the ground below. “Thank you.” He smiled, rubbing my arm slightly. “It’s okay.” My voice cracked slightly as I had to force myself to tare my eyes to the other guests on the boat. Amongst them were Max’s mum and sister, whom I’d got along with so well over the years. I was relieved to see them here, alongside a couple more familiar faces I’d met over the years. ”Leni, it’s been too long!” Victoria stood up, welcoming me in a tight hug, one which was followed from his mum. “I know it’s been ages. When did I last see you both, last year?!” “In Abu Dhabi!” Vic immediately began snorting out laughter as I attempted to muffle mine, the memory of how plastered we both were after Max had been crowned champion was hilarious. We did things that were super messy and ever since it had been our inside joke. “Oh..” I cleared my throat. “Was it really that long ago?”

“Yes. I’m surprised you’re not still hungover.” Her voice wobbled from laughter. “What, I don’t get it?” Max approached, touching my back gently before sitting down besides where I stood.

“You wouldn’t.” His sister responded. “I probably am.” I answered her question with a giggle before we returned to our seats. I purposefully sat a little away from Max, especially seeing as his family was here. I didn’t want them to think anything was going on between us, not that it was- but I did want something to happen. Well, partly, the other side of me was playing devils advocate and told myself it was too early after his previous breakup. Even I was in a full fledged relationship only 5 months ago, hell I didn't think I’d thought about my ex once in the past two months, but I had to rationale the time frame before letting myself fully grow feelings for Max.

My mind was a goldmine for overthinking. It was hard not to, even when he was next to me, the warmth of his skin would brush against mine and I’d move away, but only after I’d experienced the way my cheeks warmed, or how my heart would skip a little, stomach would churn, or I’d experience the overwhelming sensation to move closer to him. Fuck! “Are you still with your boyfriend then, Leni?” Sophie asked me as I smiled gently, shaking my head. “No, we broke up a couple months ago now.”

“Oh.” She nodded as I awkwardly smiled, gripping my glass of champagne.

“He wasn’t a really nice boy though, was he? You could do better.” When she did that, I noticed how she eyed Max up slightly who sat besides me, innocently swigging his beer.

“Probably… has my dad been telling everybody about this or?”

“Actually Max told us.” She nodded as I almost choked on my drink. Max looked towards her as if to say ‘shut the hell up’ before I began laughing.

“You’re just as bad as my dad.” This time, I placed a hand on his arm. “They gossip all the time!” Victoria added on as my hand slipped off, shaking my head. “And they say girls are bad…” “Well are you going on dates, Leni?” Sophie asked again. Max let out a groan, “mum, we don’t have to talk about this now.”

“No it’s fine.” I reassured Max. “I’m not, nobody’s asked me.”

“Max ask her on a date.” Sophie immediately spoke, speaking deadpan serious. Victoria and I began laughing at the bluntness behind her words, but when I glanced over to Max I knew I’d needed to save him from such an awkward situation.

“No, no, I’ve seen a couple guys, but I wasn’t really interested.” “Well, I’m sure you’ll find somebody very soon…”

As the night continued we’d sailed further out, lingering not too far from the harbour when we’d dropped a few people off to go to bed. It was 2:30AM and despite the fact we weren’t allowed to play music, the 7 of us that were left were playing all kinds of stupid games.

“I’ve got a game! I’ve got a game!” Maria, who was a girlfriend of one of Max’s friends announced excitedly. “It’s like would you rather, but it’s not would you rather, because we don’t play kids games anymore.”

“Okay..” Ben, her boyfriend waited patiently. “So you have to say like ‘Ben would you rather drink this drink or that one’, and whatever you pick you have to do.”

“Alright, alright.” Max agreed, clearly pretty drunk if he was agreeing to play. “Would you rather, Ben, jump in the water or drink three of them.” Max pushed forwards 3 cans of beer.

“Well, seeing as we’re not allowed in the sea…” he reached out for the alcohol, making a start with his chugging skills. I cringed, praying I wouldn’t get such a difficult question. Who would’ve thought the game would turn so silly so quickly, when people began kissing each other, I’d already polished off way too many drinks.

“Leni!” Somebody called out. “Strip off your dress or take your underwear off.”

“Oh my god.” I laughed, knowing some of the other girls had already done the same. “Neither!” My response was met with protests. “You just want everybody to go commando!” I pulled on the strings of my underwear, not believing I was doing this at all. People wolf whistled and I rolled my eyes, sticking my finger up at Henry who had sent the request out of several other girls. From besides me Max was snickering like a child.

The game was still going heavy with four of us left, Ben and Maria, and Max and I. I found myself with a blanket Max and I shared wrapped over both our shoulders, huddled closer together.

“Leni sit on Max’s lap or give him a lap dance.”

“I don’t know how to give a lap dance!” I exclaimed in my defence, feeling Max’s arm shift down onto my lower back as I shuffled onto his lap, sitting across him with a casual arm over his shoulders comfortably. The alcohol was making me fidgety, I’d craved nothing more than this, I didn’t care about any prior doubts I had. When Max’s other hand rested on my lap, beer in hand, I gulped nervously.

“Max, now kiss Leni or throw her in the sea.” Despite my lack of sobriety I knew I was blushing a vibrant pink colour, giggling towards the Dutch man. “You can throw me in the sea, Max.” I teased. Max was smiling, borderline grinning in amusement. He took my cheek with the hand that still held it beer and we shared a peck on the lips, one that ended so fast I barely even felt anything.

“Oh, do a real one!” Maria groaned, swaying. “Like this-” Ben pulled her in closer, arm wrapping around the back of her neck as they shared the most sloppiest kiss I’d ever seen. Max and I both grimaced, blinking away. They weren’t stopping. “Ew.” Max muttered as I laughed.

“Go around the other side of the boat if you’re gonna do that!” The driver exclaimed as they actually stood up, ‘sneaking’ away on Max’s half-joke.

“Oh my god.” I exhaled in amusement, glancing back to Max. My legs were fidgeting slightly, and being alone in a position like this was making feel all hot and bothered.

“Jesus.” Max muttered as I glanced back down to him, amusement spread across both our faces. Max’s eyes fell to lips and I felt a burst of energy, excitement, an overwhelming desire to lean in. It must have been a mutual feeling, because his hand reached up to touch my face again, bringing me in for a kiss which happened so quickly my drunken mind couldn’t comprehend it.

The kiss was warm, his lips were plump and smiling against my own. We laughed as we kissed one another, butterflies filling my stomach as I placed another hand on his chest. At first it seemed playful, borderline not even real. We were giggling into the kiss like we knew we shouldn’t have been doing it. It seemed to come out of nowhere, but I wasn’t complaining. Max was a good kisser, even if we were both shit-faced. His lips moved against mine, beer discarded to one side as he deepened the kiss, pulling me in closer to his lap with a hand on my waist.

We were giggling, like children, and when a funny noise emerged from the two stumbling around on the other side of the ship I turned away and let out a louder laugh. Max exclaimed one of his own too, hugging me closer with a hand on the side of my hip. I felt his chin rest on the bare skin of my shoulder, eyeing my body up from where I sat.

“They’re so drunk.” I managed to squeak out, like the two of us weren’t absolutely rat-arsed. “I know.” He snickered, I turned back down to him and we shared a few more kisses. “What’re we doing, Max?”

“I dunno.” He laughed, kissing me again. I hummed out a giggle, deepening the kiss. I could feel his hands beginning to press on me, finger tips digging in as he pulled me even closer. Our tongues moved against one another’s, and we were fully making out. In fact, when I’d shuffled even further onto Max’s lap, I could feel something pressing against my thigh. He was fucking hard, oh my god. The thought felt alien to me, the fact I was sitting on my good friends lap, making out and he had a whole fucking boner. It turned me on to say the least.

It wasn’t until the boat docked up at the harbour that we broke apart, his hand digging deeper into the flesh of my thigh, as though he was desperate for more. My core was throbbing for him, I hated to sound so crude, but I was so desperate for him it was pathetic. Maybe it was a good thing that we were both a little too drunk, Max attempted to swig the last of his drink, but in return he heaved all over the path on the way to get a ride home.

“Oh, no, Max!” I scurried away in a fake disgust. Truth be told I went home and threw up more than I’d liked to have admitted that night (or morning) and passed out on the bathroom floor. Only future Leni would have to worry about the events of the night which just unfolded…

#max verstappen imagine #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x oc #max verstappen x hornerdaughter #F1 x reader #f1 x OC #f1 x hornerdaughter #Horner daughter

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tracing-lines-in-the-infinite · 6 months

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I love rewatching Leverage.

Started rewatching The Underground Job for some Eliot content and instead remembered that Parker is often taking notes when grifting - both in preparation and during. She was writing out a script for herself and in redemption we finally got to see it develop into using notecards to classify any possible interaction!

Also this is the first time I realized that the kid Eliot meets in the mines is the same kid whose birthday it is about to be when the mine exploded. Making him 14 two years prior (its unclear if he was turning 14 or 15)- which means Cory is only 16/17 years old... hence why the miners always try to keep him as far from "the action" as possible.

When the mine owner complains about how the union demanding workers be paid fairly and have safe working conditions is destroying the business Sophie and Hardison both let their disgust show- they both break!

Parker (or Hardison) keeps a pillow and blanket in Lucille so that Parker can take a nap after too much social interaction [which is now inspiring me to bring a blanket( or maybe a comfy sweatshirt) to my office so I too can nap after too much interaction]

Bonus!

Parker's observations of Pierce:

Image ID: Hardison holding a notepad to camera that says (in all caps):

Learned more on Pierce today, after hours of undetected observation:

She looks right to left...

Opens office door with right hand, answers phone with left...

Blinks 15 times per minute...

Uses hand sanitizer more than 10 [times] a day...

Has 2 cats...

/End ID

There's another shot where she wrote "Smells like Bubbles!" with Bubbles underlined. And Hardison apparently touches his chin every 2.5 minutes.

#the underground job #leverage #parker leverage #parker #eliot spencer #alec hardison #sophie devereaux #I feel like I pay attention and then I catch something new on my 20th rewatch- that's how you know its good!#get prepared for me to just write observations every time i rewatch either Leverage or POI now because I just adore these shows

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wildpeachfarm · 9 days

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https://youtu.be/0_42ZKZAVL0?si=vjETXN8vJ3K-WZDJ This is another person addressing the gogcident and while it does not need to be discussed anymore, I think she makes very good points on how this situation will probably change networking and how ccs interact bc they will be a lot more cautious especially around ccs younger than them and also even if they think they did nothing wrong they could be accused of crimes.

She briefly touch on the what happened with that Texas person accusing G of misogyny for not responding to her and how by making that claim she’s going against what feminists are fighting so hard for.

Also happy birthday :DD

oooh interesting

I think its a very unique perspective but one that will probably show to be true in the future! Networking with younger adult CCs has just been proven to potentially turn into a blown-out insane SA accusation that resulted in public harassment to both parties and the damaging of careers. No one is ever going to want to take a chance like that again especially when there is the chance of them lying about their ages for alcohol too. You have no idea of the next person you talk to in a party setting could be a horribly-adjusted and sheltered adult like caiti.

And yeah by throwing around the word misogyny in that situation she is literally watering it down to "being ignored" and potentially ruining the weight of the word that modern feminism has tried to hard to preserve. So Sophie is kinda hurting her future self by reducing "feminism" to a pointless little ignore in a group setting when no one owes you a conversation. That's something that some of these CCs need to realize and be humbled by: while george did not intend to ignore her, he doesn't OWE her conversation nor does anyone. They are not owed attention just because they want it.

youtube

#ask #anon #anti drummyache tag

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deaddee-anime-brownfanlady · 1 year

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Having read and reread the Lackadaisy comic more then once and looking through the Wiki on the different events. Mostly on Rocky and the familial tensions surrounding the McMurray household and why Rocky got the boot?

So the year 1921 was a big event of change. In which Rocky was kicked out at 16-years-old and within that same year Freckle dad died. It leaves me to wonder was this one of the " Family Tragedies " that Rocky mentioned in the chapter ' Breakdown ' I know that he was mostly delirious talking about his mom Sophie who was severely sick at the time and how his father was "working on the railroad~" most of the time which explains why Rocky spent a good half of his childhood at the McMurray house and was raised along side Freckle. But reading the lines and seeing some of the interactions between Rocky & Freckle, there's obvious some underlying issues and unresolved problems between the two cousins. Whatever happened between the two that Rocky took the blame for.

Closely looking through the many letters Rocky sent Freckle during his time on his own and going through different jobs after another, one of them that stands out specifically. Is Rocky asking for the whereabouts of his father, bits of it mentioning his dad haven't written back to him in awhile. ( Seriously need to know more about Rocky Pop's Ransom) In the present timeline of the comic it apparent that his mom passed away. But what about dear Ol Dad, is he also dead? Or did the man just took off after the death of his wife and left his son behind in the progress because he didn't want to deal with Rocky eccentricities. I know the series is still on hatius, but so far Rocky dad sounds like a major dick.

Of the many letters that Rocky has to sent Freckle before he ended up back in St. Louis again has a few words within it that is missing. One of them seems to mention a "Birthday" perhaps wishing Freckle a happy birthday but also one of the words from the letter that stands out to me is the " Your Fault " line the most. I got a feeling this could be connected to whatsoever went down between Freckle and Rocky that lead to Rocky getting kicked out in the first place. From the bits of missing words in the letter it sounds like Rocky is either telling Freckle that " it isn't all your fault anyway " or he's telling him that its " All your fault anyway ". It's hard to tell what Rocky might have actual meant in his 1923 letter, but from what I gather at it is that maybe he was wishing Freckle a good birthday and went a bit on some sort of one-off small tangent about whose really at fault for what take place at the McMurray house and what lead up to Aunt Nina finally having enough of Rocky and kicking him out of her home and her likely thinking he's a bad influence on her sweet boy and not wanting him around Freckle any longer especially when it came to his schooling.

I swear the more you look more in-depth when it comes to Rocky and aspects of his past, including him basically having been on his own since he was sixteen and been hopping from one odd job to the next as well as going from one place to another until he ends up back in St. Louis again later on is pretty real sad when you think about it. I feel like its very much deeply explains why Rocky tries so freaking hard at the Lackadaisy speakeasy when it comes to him taking on the bootlegging side of things of the business and wanting to prove himself useful to Mitzi and all. After everything he's been through thus far it makes sense.

Also the still up in the air question mark of whatever mess that happened in 1921 besides Freckle loss of his father, or when it comes to his mom illness that Rocky blames himself for and took the fall for something that happened in place of Freckle.

Whatever might happens in the next future chapters of Lackadaisy especially on the familial tensions that still lingers with Rocky and his relationship between both his cousin and his Auntie, which leaves me to wonders is how long will it take for Aunt Nina to eventually sense and finds out what her son and her 0ff-beat goofball of a nephew is truly doing for a " Job ."

How long before things between these rum-running cousin danger duo goes south? Especially when it come to Rocky on his part because I feel things for him might slowly take a turn for the worse again unfortunately.

#Rocky Rickaby #lackadaisy #calvin freckle mcmurray #lackadaisy cats #Comic related #comic series #indie animation #webcomics #lackadaisy meta #lackadaisy spoilers #lackadaisy comic #meta analysis #youtube animation

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eleanor-bradstreet · 1 year

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The Palace

Benedict Bridgerton x Sophie Beckett Rated: 18+, explicit sexual content Word count: 3.6k

Summary: Benedict makes Sophie’s first royal event one to remember.

Author’s Note: Happy Queen Charlotte release day! Here’s some smut to celebrate 😜 No spoilers for the show in this fic, just some royal-adjacent horny nonsense. This is also my belated birthday gift to @queen-of-the-misfit-toys Enjoy our boy and his talented hands, my dear 💙

Sophie needed a moment to breathe. Between the glare of the sun, the tightness of her stays and the dizzying array of new faces, her head was beginning to spin. Happily, the reception party was spread across both the gardens and two floors of St. James’s Palace, offering plenty of quiet corners where she could rest. Leaving Benedict in conversation with Anthony, she picked her way up to a room on the second floor. Despite its towering ceilings and the endless stretches of halls that winged away from its massive doors, the tapestries within made it feel marginally warmer than the throne and ballrooms below. A bouquet of purple blooms perched on a low table in front of the windows and she stood by it, trying to steady herself as she watched the members of court mingle in the gardens.

It was Hyacinth’s presentation day, but Benedict had wasted no opportunity to remind Sophie that it served as her presentation too. The first year of their marriage had been spent blissfully in the countryside but now she and the whole of the Bridgerton clan had agreed that it was time for her to appear in the London season. Everyone was well rehearsed in Sophie’s backstory if need be. The explanation that she was a distant cousin of the late Earl of Penwood had been carefully worded by Anthony and Violet. All members of the family were instructed to alert them if anyone probed too insistently. They all hoped it wouldn’t cause too much speculation for the second-born Bridgerton son to reemerge from a long absence with a wife in tow, but the ton were fickle and always desperate for gossip.

The morning ceremony had gone off without a hitch. Hyacinth had walked serenely to the Queen, though her family could tell she was fighting to suppress giggles the entire time. Sophie had managed to blend into the sea of ladies in ivory dresses with no one taking notice of her until the reception party began in the garden. Anthony had circled her like a hawk, glowering more than usual at each person she and Benedict spoke to and he only moved away when the attendees queued to greet the Queen. Sophie was buzzing with anxiety, her mind roaring as Benedict guided her forward and introduced her. Somehow she had remembered to curtsy properly and to smile. She had said something that made the Queen laugh but couldn’t remember what, then she had turned away, dazed. Benedict brought her back to herself with a tight squeeze of her hand and an encouraging smile before they separated to mingle.

Now the enormity of the day was weighing on her and Sophie needed this reprieve. How she found herself here, barely a year after selling her hair to a wigmaker and cleaning out chamberpots, was still a turn of events she couldn’t fully believe. As she leaned against the table and enjoyed the fragrance of the flowers, Benedict entered the room behind her. She knew it was him even before the press of warm lips against her neck. She could always sense when he was nearby, attuned to him like the change in pressure before a storm. Her skin would prickle and her mind would calm, steadied by the proximity of her anchor in this new life.

His hands banded around her waist as he pressed himself to her back, murmuring into the slope of her shoulder. “What do you think, my love? Your first royal event.”

Sophie smiled, grateful for the familiar comfort of his arms. “It is breathtaking. I could never have dreamed I would find myself here. Introduced to the Queen of England. Do you think she believed our story? Do you think she knows I don’t really belong?”

Benedict gently turned her chin back to face him with a gloved hand. His brow was creased. “You do belong here. As much as anyone. You are my wife and the daughter of an Earl. I never want you doubting yourself.” His insistent tone reverberated into her back, leaving no space for her heart or mind to argue. “I think she believed us but even if she didn’t, she clearly doesn’t care. You fit in here. Somehow, you manage to fit perfectly everywhere.” The fingers on her chin moved to stroke her cheek. “In our little country cottage, or in these grand halls, looking like a veritable princess.”

He pressed another kiss to her lips and she sank against him, fighting the tears that his words stirred within her.

“I love you so much, Benedict,” she whispered. “You’ll never know how much.”

He tightened his hold, hands splaying across her ribs. “And I love you, darling. You are my entire heart. My whole world.” He paused and let his eyes stray across her decolletage, highly pronounced thanks to the incomparable structure of her court dress. “This may be the most striking dress I’ve ever seen you in. I can’t deny that it has sent my mind in all kinds of…enticing directions.”

The crooked grin that followed was a warning shot.

Sophie sighed, turning back to the windows. “Ben, we really can’t.”

“We won’t.” His mock indignation was completely undermined by the low pitch his voice sank into. His hands traced down to grasp her hips and he pressed himself firmly into her backside, pinning her between him and the table. His words ghosted warm next to her ear, a devastating purr. “We aren’t doing anything. We are just standing, a husband and wife, quietly taking in the view.”

That’s when he pushed her hips forward ever so slightly, nearly imperceptible, but enough for her to realize that the table was at precisely the right height to strike her where sensation would bloom. She let out a small gasp.

Undeterred, Benedict continued. “We are surveying the grounds…” He nudged her against the table edge again. “The people.” Again.

Sophie took a shuddering breath, already knowing she would be helpless against the tingling wave he was building within her. Sometimes she wondered if she had married the devil himself. How dare he act so brazenly in public and in a royal palace no less? But she knew, of course, that it was precisely within Benedict Bridgerton’s nature to do such a thing. And God help her, it was one of the reasons she was so hopelessly in love with him.

Perhaps they could do this undetected. The doors behind them were too heavy to close and they could be seen by anyone passing in the hall, but this corner of the upper floor seemed deserted. And if they were, as Benedict said, just a husband and wife standing by the window, rocking with such small movements, perhaps no one would know what was happening even if they were discovered. Benedict understood her body so well and was rubbing her into the table at such a precise angle, she knew she could finish quickly. A small burst of pleasure would no doubt help ease her nerves, which she surmised was part of his motivation.

She cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. “They are stunning.”

“Yes, they are.” He rumbled low in her ear, his hands tight on her hips, guiding her back and forth, grinding her into the sloped angle of the wood. “The peacocks in particular are an excellent touch, are they not?” With that, he surged his hips into her and Sophie groaned quietly at the stiff length she felt pressing into the cleft of her bottom.

“Yes…” She gasped, eyes fluttering closed as all her focus narrowed to the heat between her thighs and the crush of him behind her.

“Keep your eyes on everyone out there.” Benedict tutted and she obeyed, bracing herself with palms pressed into the tabletop and gaze locked on the oblivious crowds below.

He had found a steady rhythm, pushing her forward with his body and hands, thrusting her against the table with small movements that sent spikes of desire shooting through her blood. Over and over with mechanical precision he maneuvered her in chasing pleasure, the slight quiver of the flowers beside them the only indicator to any passersby that something untoward was happening.

Benedict’s tone was quiet but with an undeniably gruff edge. “I want you to remember this moment. That you are in a palace, looking down on all the ton. You are regal Sophie. You were so marvelous speaking to Her Majesty. I was so proud to show her that I had married the most gorgeous woman in England. A woman that far outshines any of her Diamonds. With more strength and fortitude than they could ever muster. She may be the Queen, but I am certainly the richer of us both.”

Sophie gripped the table and stared, entranced as Benedict set her body and mind alight. His potent blend of arousal and affirmation drilled home the truth of his words. She did belong. She was special. Powerful even. A Bridgerton with a handsome husband on her arm and a formidable family to support her. She wore the same fine fabrics as the ladies in the sunlit hedgerows below and had received the same invitation to be feted by the Queen herself. Sophie Beckett the maid was no longer. Sophia Bridgerton had taken her place and was being ravished in a palace above the heads of the ton by a man they all respected and desired.

When his mouth opened hot on her neck to graze it with his teeth Sophie moaned aloud, unable to restrain herself. He had worked her into a state, humming with arousal, her womanhood engorged and soaking. She was burning and lightheaded and knew that she had more than the strictures of her dress to blame. While his movements made the wave of lust swell within her body, his words made her longing for him swell within her heart. She needed his mouth on hers, his skin on hers. It was the only way she would crest the wave and in that moment, everything else could be damned.

“Ben,” She spun around to face him and crashed her mouth to his, drinking in the taste of him as she tugged off his gloves. He let her do as she wished, sliding his tongue to map the circumference of her lips as she pulled his hand up and under her skirt. Caged though her breasts and consequently her lungs may be, her lower undergarments were still easy to bypass and Sophie was aching for her husband’s fingers.

Benedict paused, face lighting with mischief as he gave her a lopsided smile. “Anyone could see us.”

As if confirming her commitment to impropriety, Sophie smirked and hopped backward to sit on the table, wrapping her arms across his broad shoulders. “Good. Let them watch.”

With something like a snarl, his eyes darkened and he dipped his head to suck at the delicate skin beneath her ear. The hand under her skirt began to quest through the layers of fabric. “You hoping to make them jealous?”

“Yes,” She breathed, leaning her head back and reveling in the pattern he traced with his tongue.

“You want them all to see you getting finger fucked at their stuffy soiree?” His voice rumbled low in his chest as his fingers found her wet heat and brushed gently over her opening.

“Desperately,” She shuddered, breathing heavier as she shot another glance out the window. “I want them to know that I’m yours.”

With no preamble Benedict covered her throbbing center with the whole of his hand, cupping her possessively. He pulled back to meet her eyes. Gone was the sweet, gentle artist, replaced by an imposing seducer who looked about ready to devour her.

“This is mine is it then, darling?” He smiled wolfishly.

“Yes,” Sophie gaped, heart pounding. Only once she confirmed it did his hand start moving, fingers sliding through the slickness he had caused as his palm ground against her pubic bone, giving her the pressure she loved.

He wrapped the fingers of his other hand gently around her neck. Not hard enough to restrict her breath, just enough to hold her in place. His thumb traced languidly over the ridges of her throat above the tiers of pearls that he had gifted her for the occasion.

“And those lips…” He bent and sucked on the lower one, nibbling it before pulling away. “They are mine?”

“Yes,” Sophie’s eyes closed, hands moving to wrap around his wrist. She was growing dizzy with the intensity of the moment. His dominating play made her giddy enough but to unleash it when they were in public and at risk of being caught…it made her lose her senses.

His hand beneath her skirts shifted, aligning the pad of his thumb on her swollen clit precisely where she had shown him she liked to be touched. Then he began rubbing in skillful circles. Two more fingers pressed inside her and slid firmly in and out, probing with clear intention. Sophie hissed, her stomach clenching like a fist, nails digging into his wrist. Her nerves began to sing, the wave rising under his ministrations. This was precisely what she needed.

Benedict trailed open-mouthed kisses over her exposed skin, licking along the neckline of her dress.

“The whole of this incredible woman. She is mine. And how she dazzles. In silks. In satins. In nothing at all. Am I not the luckiest man alive to be tasked with serving her? Pleasuring her.”

His voice was dusky against her flesh and punctuated by her moan when he bit lightly into the swell of her breast. His long fingers continued to tease and swirl, pumping into her and coaxing her to release. Sophie felt her nipples harden as her body relented, lost to any way he wanted to command it, trusting him to bring her to heights she could never accomplish herself. She hooked her ankles around the back of his calves, pulling him closer between her thighs, needing the heat of him to mingle with the one he stoked in her. Clutching one another, they were nearly inert save for the talented movements of Benedict’s hand beneath her skirts. The only sounds in the room were the light rustle of fabric and Sophie’s small, pleasured breaths.

Sophie clung to his wrist, the pounding blood in her ears drowning out every sense but touch. The expert flick of his thumb against her nerves that caused her stomach to knot delightfully. The glide of his reach inside her, petting the spots that made her clench and evoking memories of his cock and its steady pace that ratcheted her to delirium. All of it heightened by his hold on her neck, the ownership he claimed over the fluttering breaths he was forcing out of her. In these moments her body was his, because she knew that his heart would always be hers.

Benedict marveled at the beauty of his wife lost in the throes of pleasure, her lips swollen from kissing, her eyes hazy, fingers flexing each time he pressed against her sweetest spot, right under her clitoral hood. He reveled in her flushed skin and needy noises, the bobbing of her throat beneath his fingers. He would never tire of making her feel this way. In fact, he longed to draw it out, leave her breathless and screaming for release, soaking his hand as he made her come over and over until her knees faltered. But they didn’t have the luxury of time. So he focused his movements, small but incendiary, on the most sensitive parts of her. He grinned, noting how her hips had started to rock, pushing herself down onto his fingers as much as he was pushing up into her. He leaned to her ear and whispered.

“That’s it. You’re beautiful, so beautiful my love.” His lips returned to her neck, nibbling around the elaborate necklace, his breath gusting hot across her skin. “I love to see you choked with my pearls.”

Her whole body stiffened, his words driving her higher. “I prefer your hands.” She rasped, managing to arch a coquettish brow.

The responding gleam in his steely eyes was precisely what she had been hoping for. Spurred on, Benedict tightened his grip, starting to slightly constrict her windpipe as his fingers increased their speed and pressure, pounding into her and teasing her nub viciously.

“I’m glad to hear that, darling.” He growled. “You are radiant with all manner of things around your neck.” He sucked at her collarbone before moving back to her lips, kissing her between each honeyed word of praise. “Priceless. My wife. My queen.”

Sophie could hear how wet she was as he worked her sex relentlessly. The cadence of his fingers was making her delirious. The warm, delicious tingle radiating from his touch was flooding over her. She knew she was approaching the end.

“Don’t…be treasonous…”

He chuckled darkly. “I can revere whomever I want to behind closed doors. Would you want that? For me to kneel before you tonight?”

Sophie’s eyes blazed, enticed by his offer. They had played that way before, Benedict submitting to her wishes, and it always set a fire in her belly. She envisioned him naked, kneeling before her on the floor of their bedroom, skin glowing in firelight that etched the outlines of his muscles and betrayed the leaking of his eager cock. She could hook her leg over his shoulder and command him to feast upon her until neither of them could breathe. She could sink her hands into the waves of his dark hair and press him into her body, riding him mercilessly to her bliss.

It was this imagery that caused her to break, thighs quaking as she bucked against him. Benedict could feel her quiver inside. Throwing her head back, she started to moan his name but he cut her off quickly with a gentle squeeze of her throat.

“Shhh. Don’t scream my name or you’ll give us away.” His eyes were hungry as he continued rubbing her furiously, rocking his hand in and out of her. “Just come for me.”

He felt her hold her breath, then the rippling spasms started to dance down the length of his fingers. She froze, rigid, gripping onto his wrist for dear life.

“That’s it. Come all over my hand.” He goaded through gritted teeth. “Then we’re going to walk out of here as if you aren’t drenched.”

He coaxed more out of her, slowing and curling his strokes as the pulsing continued, fanning out through her body, causing her to jerk. Sophie’s mind floated as the wave washed over her, its epicenter under his fingertips.

Benedict released her throat and held her close in the breathless moments as she shuddered with aftershocks. He withdrew his other hand and Sophie opened her eyes to find him sucking decadently at his fingers, relishing her taste. Lightheaded, she gently palmed the prominent tent in his breeches.

“What about you?”

Benedict smirked. “If etiquette didn’t require me to be in breeches and hose, maybe. But I’ll show you when we get home what an ordeal they are to remove. Let’s just wait a moment, my love. I will be fine.”

She laughed, the room beginning to orient itself around her again, gravity falling back into place.

“Perhaps the dress code was established for precisely that reason.”

—

An hour later at the close of the reception, Benedict and Sophie were turning to walk out through the gardens when they halted at the sight of the Queen approaching, closely followed by her man Brimsley. Sophie’s mind began to whir. She had been so blissful in the wake of their rendezvous that guilt had not settled on her thoughts as it perhaps should have. But now, reminded of precisely whose home she had defiled, she was filled with shame and could only pray that Her Majesty didn’t know the scandalous truth.

Queen Charlotte strode to them directly and they stepped apart, inclining their heads as they bowed and curtsied deeply.

The Queen fixed her eyes on Benedict. “Mr. Bridgerton. So glad you could join us when I have seen you at so few of my events.” She pursed her lips. “Though, I’m sure you are busy with your work. My nephew Friedrich has commissioned you for his official portrait, has he not?”

A bit stunned, Benedict nodded. “Indeed he has, your Majesty. An honor that I gladly accepted.”

“Very good. I’ll wait for his assessment and then see if we cannot use another portraitist for my family.” Her eyes scanned him up and down, scrutinizing though he was not sure for what. With the quirk of a smile, she continued. “We are always looking for those with creativity and…discretion.”

Gobsmacked, Benedict’s face lit up as he bowed again. “Your Majesty.”

Before she departed, the Queen pivoted to Sophie with the same small, enigmatic smile. “A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Bridgerton.”

Sophie nearly stumbled in her rush to curtsy again, overwhelmed by the entire exchange. Rising, she saw the Queen was gone but Brimsley had lingered and was staring at her pointedly. With a quick gesture he motioned toward her neckline. To her horror, she looked down to see bruising teeth marks on her breast peeking just above her bodice. She scrambled to conceal it and looked back at the Queen’s Man, blushing crimson. She did not know whether to feel relief or mortification as he shot her a wry smile, winked, then turned and caught up to the Queen, five paces behind as always.

Tagging: @angels17324 @bridgertontess @broooookiecrisp @secretagentbucky

#bridgerton #bridgerton fanfiction #benedict bridgerton #sophie beckett #benophie #benedict bridgerton fanfiction #sophie beckett fanfiction #benophie fanfiction #benedict bridgerton smut #benophie smut #bridgerton smut #queen charlotte

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sea-owl · 9 months

Text

I just had a cute idea. Soulmate rings that upon the owners 18th birthday, the ring will leave the original owner and magically appear on their soulmate's right hand to be later moved to their left hand by the original owner of the ring. Each of these rings are super expensive due to the unique magic within them and are usually made for a person by their family after surviving their first year of life. The original owner has a connection to the ring, and it will glow when the soulmates meet. The ring will fashion itself to the asethics of its wearer. Those who had the rings would often wear gloves that could be seen through, often made with material like lace.

The Bridgertons have followed this tradition for generations. Each one of the siblings has had a ring commissioned for them and each one had worn it faithfully on their right hands until their 18th birthdays.

Kathony -

Anthony was looking forward to finding the woman whose hand now held his ring. Where it once sat on his right hand was now warm, leading Anthony to believe that whoever she was was definitely not in England. Then tradegy struck with Edmund's death that same year. Anthony no longer cared for his soul ring, instead throwing himself into being the head of the family. He didn't want to find his soulmate any more, he refused to put her in the same position that his mother was in when his father passed. No one comments when Anthony sometimes rubs the skin where his ring used to be nor the henna that sometimes appears. When Anthony's finger started getting colder six months before the 1814 season, he knew it was time to find a wife.

Kate was confused when the soul ring first appeared on her finger, and Mary had to explain it to her what the ring was. The tradition was not as popular in India so Kate had not heard of them before then. Mary did not have a soul ring herself but she did know of the stories and how the original owner was connected to the ring. That gave Kate the idea of doing henna designs around the ring on he finger. Maybe her henna rings would appear on her soulmate.

Benophie -

Benedict first saw his ring again on the night of the masquerade, when the Lady in Silver's glove slipped off her hand while running away from him. The ring had a faint glow that got dimmer the farther away she got from him. Benedict wanted to laugh and curse at the same time. He finds his soulmate and she runs away from him.

Sophie was in disbelief when the soul ring first appeared on her hand. These sort of fairytales don't happen to girls like her. The head maid was quick to hide the ring with a servant's glove. They both knew Araminta would go on a rampage should she ever see that ring. When Sophie left Pennwood she still kept the glove on. Better to keep herself safe.

Polin -

Colin's ring just confuses him. He'll try to follow his connection to it but every time he does he finds himself near Penelope. Penelope who never wears lace gloves, whose mama would absolutely jump at the chance to link her daughter to a family rich enough to afford a soul ring. Penelope never gives any indication that she has a soul ring on either. Sure she'll ask them questions about it when her curiosity arises but everyone does.

Part of the reason Penelope does not say anything about the ring is because of her love for Colin. She's been in love with him forever and she thinks it would be unfair to her soulmate that she's so in love with a different man. The other reason I can see being is that Portia does not put much stock in soul rings. They're more common in Portia's hometown (I'm thinking Ireland, canonically the Featheringtons do have Irish cousins) and she's a firm believer in her daughters finding an advantageous match, not a love match, but one that would secure them a good future. One day thought Penelope needed to do an urgent Whistledown run and could only find a pair of lace gloves. Putting them on Penelope rushed off down to the church. Besides it's not like her soul mate will use their connection via the ring to track her down to Flint St, right?

Saphne -

Both Simon and Daphne have soul rings. While Simon's father scoffed at the idea of the rings he did have a reputation to uphold and had one crafted for Simon for his 1st birthday. Daphne squealed when a second ring appeared on her right hand. In her mind it helped her greatly narrow down on which gentlemen to be on the look out for. Anthony would stare at her second ring from time to time like he knew something about it. When asked he would only shake his head and say her ring just looked familiar.

Simon felt sick when a new ring appeared on his hand. He was not expecting it. For years he has used his connection to his ring to avoid his soulmate, and now she had a connection to him and her ring. His plan was to never marry and this definitely put a wrench in things. Well at least he can hide it.

Philoise -

Eloise never put much stock into the ring. She may have once upon a time before her father died. After it was there, and one day it wasn't. She did use it as an excuse to reject gentlemen once or twice. Her ring though felt very, stationary. Eloise once described it feeling like a tree, she was quick to conclude that her soulmate did not travel very much. When she sent her first letter to Sir Phillip her finger where the ring used to sit tingled. Eloise brushed it off at first but as her correspondence to him continued Eloise felt it more and more. Please let me be right Eloise thought to herself that night she left for Romney Hall, to hopefully the man that was her soulmate.

The ring appeared on Phillip's hand on his wedding day. He was quick to put a glove over it, sending a silent apology to his soul mate. He had to honor his brother and make sure Marina and the children were taken care of. He hopped his soulmate would find happiness.

#bridgerton #soul rings au #kathony #benophie #polin #philoise #saphne

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lambsouvlaki · 7 months

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Hey its been a while are we gonna get more Jason and Andy and baby character who I’ve forgotten the name of

Much love tho I love your story

Jason and Sophie walked in from the rain. A chime played as they passed the threshold of the small shop and a wave of warm air enveloped them. Soft instrumental music played.

He was holding his baby girl’s hand as she stomped along next to him with big exaggerated strides.

“I like puddles,” she informed him seriously.

“Then I have good news for you about the city we live in, kitten,” he said, and he pulled out a tissue to gently wipe her face. She scrunched up her nose but let him without complaint.

She turned three in one month and was tall for her age. She wore her favourite yellow rain boots, a red tutu and green wool tights under her bright orange rain coat. Curly black hair frizzed out from under a yellow beanie. She was daddy’s favourite little traffic light.

“Good morning,” a lady behind the counter called when they were done. They were the only people there. “How can I help you?”

“It’s mommy’s birthday,” Sophie declared. “We need presents.”

Jason picked her up and put her on his hip. She wrapped one arm around his shoulder and looked at the sales lady.

The woman smiled. “Is it? And what are we getting for mommy today?”

“A flower cup.”

“What are flower cups called, baby?” Jason asked.

Sophie stared back at him, unimpressed.

“A big flower cup.”

He rolled his eyes.

“A vase maybe?” the lady suggested.

Sophie sniffed. “Marlow broke the blue one with his tail.”

“Then right this way, miss, let me show you what we have.”

Jason put her down and she marched with purpose to the clean white shelves with vases and beauty products on them. He told her not to touch any of them until she decided and then wait for him to come and get it.

“She’s a treasure,” the lady said conspiratorially to him.

“Yeah.” He smiled at his daughter. She had stuck one knuckle in her mouth and studied her options seriously.

“Did you have your eyes on anything else?” the lady asked. She casually rearranged her hair.

“You guys have spa packages, right? Massages and skin treatments, all that stuff?”

“Of course,” she said, sliding back behind the counter. “Are you looking for a couples experience or…?”

He shook his head. She leaned forward on the desk and produced a pamphlet and explained their offerings.

He wanted the best, most premium experience for Andy, but by the looks of things that was some kind of clay body wrap thing. She didn’t like the texture of clay masks on her face. She still did them, but it was with dread and resignation every time. This was meant to be relaxing for her, not maintenance, but the kind of pampering she secretly liked but would never buy for herself.

“This one.” He pointed to the menu. “With all the add ons please.”

“She’s a lucky lady.”

“That’s the idea.” His lips turned up in a crooked smile. “I’m the lucky one really.” One weekend’s worth of pampering was nothing compared to the joy she brought to his life. The amount of bs she put up with for him.

The lady cooed. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. Not a lot of men put the effort in, you know. You must be an attentive partner.”

His head snapped around to stare at Sophie. She snatched her hand back from a tall glass vase. He narrowed his eyes and she held her hands behind her back and bit her lip.

He turned back to the sales lady. She looked a little disgruntled.

“So that’s the Day Dream Package for your wife. And what can I get for you?”

“It’s not my birthday,” he snorted. And Andy wasn’t his wife.

The lady bit the end of her pen. “Doesn’t mean you can’t want anything.”

He paused. He did want something.

He looked back at his daughter. She was camped in front of the vase she wanted, her arms crossed and her expression a tiny copy of her mother’s. She waited with what looked like patience but was really iron resolve. Once she knew what she wanted she would not be moved until she got it, no matter how long she had to wait.

“Sophie,” he called.

“Yes?”

“I’m going to propose to your mom.”

The lady looked to the heavens.

“Okay,” Sophie said. She pointed. “I want this one.”

“Good choice honey,” he said, and swung her up into his arms. “She’ll love it.”

#sales lady: giggles and bites her lip and twirls her hair around her finger #Jason: 🥰 I love my wife 🥰#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #my fanfic #dc #fluff #kid fic #dad!jason #thanks nonny!

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