#smiles like he owns the room because he does

[rosiecosy]

cozy baby˚ʚ♡ɞ˚

(jeonghan x reader) — fluff — part of the find the baby series

jeonghan was not expecting to find you asleep on the floor of his room.

he had been in the bathroom, brushing his teeth and going through his usual nighttime routine, when he came back to see something—someone—huddled in a blanket beside his bed.

at first, he blinked, wondering if he was seeing things. but no, that was definitely you, curled up with your arms around a pillow, face half-buried into the fabric, completely knocked out.

he sighs. presses his lips together. tries very hard to fight the small smile creeping onto his face.

"why are you like this?" he mutters, crouching down beside you.

no response. not that he was expecting one.

he studies you for a second. you must've grabbed the blanket from your room before coming in here—probably intending to talk to him about something, only to get tired and decide this was a good enough spot to sleep.

jeonghan tilts his head, watching the slow rise and fall of your breathing.

he should wake you up. or at the very least, carry you to bed. but then you shift slightly, the tiniest little sigh escaping your lips, and—

… yeah, okay. no. he can’t wake you up.

he’s weak, alright? he knows that.

so, instead, he flops onto the floor next to you.

it’s not the most comfortable spot, but whatever. he’s dealt with worse. plus, it’s kinda funny imagining the looks on the other members’ faces when they see this in the morning.

he tugs his own blanket off the bed, draping it over both of you before rolling onto his side, facing you.

you must be dreaming about something good because there’s a faint smile on your lips.

jeonghan finds himself smiling too.

without thinking too hard about it, he reaches out, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. you sigh again, shifting instinctively closer, and before he can process it, you’re tucking yourself against him, fingers loosely grasping at the sleeve of his hoodie.

his heart does something weird.

… whatever. he’ll deal with it later.

for now, he just lets himself get comfortable, eyes fluttering shut as sleep slowly pulls him under.

he’ll tease you about this in the morning.

probably.

—

a few hours later, you wake up.

it takes a second for the sleep haze to clear, but when it does, you immediately realize two things:

one, you’re not in your bed.

two, jeonghan is lying right next to you.

your heart stumbles over itself as your brain catches up. you blink in the dim light, barely processing the fact that you're both wrapped in the same blanket, bodies warm and pressed close.

oh god.

you don’t even remember falling asleep here. why didn’t he wake you up? why is he on the floor too?

guilt pricks at your chest. you hadn’t meant to take over his space like this. and now he’s sleeping on the floor because of you? no way. absolutely not.

carefully, you start to move, trying to wiggle out from under the blanket without disturbing him.

you almost make it.

but then, just as you shift away, an arm suddenly snakes around your waist—

and pulls you back in.

you barely have time to react before you're pressed right back against jeonghan’s chest, his hold firm but gentle, locking you in place.

"where are you going?" he murmurs, voice still thick with sleep.

you freeze. "i—um. my room."

"mmm. don’t."

your breath catches. "but—"

"‘s fine." his arm tightens slightly, securing you against him. “just sleep."

your brain short-circuits.

you can feel the warmth of him, the steady rise and fall of his breathing. his voice is lower than usual, drowsy and soft, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"… but the floor—"

"it’s fine." he buries his face slightly into your hair, exhaling slowly. "warm."

your heart is losing it.

"you sure?" you whisper, hesitant.

his response is instant, barely above a mumble—

"mm. stay."

… well.

how are you supposed to say no to that?

you stop resisting, letting yourself relax against him. the warmth, the steady rhythm of his breathing, the quiet comfort of it all—it’s too much. too easy.

jeonghan makes a satisfied noise, like he just won something.

you roll your eyes, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

"… fine."

his hold loosens, just slightly, but he doesn’t let go completely.

you close your eyes again.

within seconds, sleep pulls you under once more.

—

when morning does come, it’s seungcheol who finds you first.

he had been looking for jeonghan, only to freeze in the doorway at the sight before him.

two people. on the floor. wrapped up in blankets, completely tangled together.

seungcheol stares.

blinks.

presses his fingers to his temples.

"i cannot believe this."

his voice must be louder than he thought because footsteps quickly follow.

"what—" joshua stops mid-step, eyes widening. "oh my god."

seokmin and seungkwan show up next, only to nearly choke trying to hold back laughter.

"you've got to be kidding me," seungkwan hisses, whipping out his phone. "this is gold."

"they look so comfortable," seokmin whisper-yells. "like cozy cozy."

"they’re literally cuddling," mingyu wheezes.

at the sound of voices, jeonghan stirs. scrunches his nose. shifts slightly before cracking one eye open.

he blinks slowly. then—

"… oh."

he’s greeted with at least five members staring at him. some with their arms crossed, some barely holding in laughter, and one (seungkwan) very obviously filming everything.

he processes this for exactly two seconds before he just—

closes his eyes again.

"five more minutes," he mumbles.

there’s a chorus of reactions at that, half in disbelief, half in pure amusement.

"unbelievable," seungcheol mutters, rubbing his temples.

"no, but really," minghao says, poking his head into the room. "why are you guys on the floor?"

jeonghan peeks one eye open again.

then, with the most innocent, smug expression imaginable—

"she looked lonely."

cue absolute chaos.

[bunny-jpeg]

Hello, Table for 2! Under the name Toto Wolff, I recently came across your "cafe" and i would love to place an order 😁

A Millionare shortcake

A Croissant

And a Fudge

with the side of Milkshake and Fishbowl cocktail

Extra request: Could the reader be daughter of Christian Horner, Team principal of Red bull?

bakery menu

i'm slowly inching my way back into doing bakery orders. i got a really high streak with writing my own ideas (without the prompts) so i got sort of lazy with the bakery prompts. but there will be more of them mixed in. i hope you enjoy this and thank you for ordering!

millionaire shortcake: "if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family." + croissant: "i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." + fudge: "your father is pissing me off." + milkshake: size kink + fishbowl cocktail: protected sex served by toto wolff (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, horner!reader, secret relationship, age gap (20s/50s), size difference/kink, protected sex, dirty talk

toto tried not to cut his loses too much. he felt like his greatest regret was not signing max verstappen. he often glanced at horner and felt a sense of disgust, especially when the dutch driver sailed towards another win.

and while toto would forever feel the regret of not signing verstappen, he didn't regret one thing. he watched you lounging in his living room in his expensive house in monaco, far away from your father. you looked up from your magazine and smiled at him. horner may have caught verstappen, but toto caught horner's daughter.

toto liked how you look in his arms. there was something about you that just made it feel right for him to hold you the way he did. but sometimes he held a little tighter, mostly when he was mad at your father. it wasn't your fault that chrisitan horner could be such a rat-bastard, but he couldn't help but take some of that pent up aggression out of on your poor little pussy.

horner's prize child, while not a racer yourself, you excelled in everything you did. you had your own trophies for the sports you did and the academic achievements. but no amount of your father's praise could make up how it felt when toto smothered you in his own praise. - or his degradation.

"i wonder if your father knows what happens during the off hours. if he knows you're here with me." toto asked as he held you by the hips a little tighter. you were about to pour another glass of wine and now the older, taller man had you pinned to the counter top.

you replied as you put the bottle down, "he thinks i'm visiting max this weekend. i was supposed to bring him paperwork regarding time off because of his new baby.." the paper work was in your bag, long forgotten as you got wrapped up in your secret lover.

toto leaned in to kiss the back of your neck, "look at you, doing your father's work. how sweet. little does he know that you're here with me tonight." he pressed up against you a little harder and felt you shudder. it was cute.

you were quite small compared to him, toto stood over six feet tall. he could easily encompass you in his arms and move you as he so pleased. there wasn't much you could do when he rubbed the front of himself up against your back. his hard cock pressed against your skin.

"you know, my princess. your father is pissing me off." he said lowly, "he talks and talks like a bratty little terrier." he exhaled loudly, he held on a little tighter, "i wish i could shut him up the way i shut you up."

you looked up at him with a look on concern.

toto laughed, "i meant with a gag. he'd look better with some of his words kept to himself." he then patted your behind before he led you to the bedroom. he kept close to you like a comforting shadow, his hand on your lower back as he guided you to the bed. he was a little more forceful once in the bedroom.

you felt a push and ended up face first in the pillows with your pert ass up in the air. you yelped when he groped the flesh. he didn't like to spank you, it felt juvenile. but, he did have his methods for making you squirm. his large hand gripped onto the swell of your ass and he watched you squirm. you were well versed in the sexual tactics of toto wolff.

"i'm sorry he's pissing you off, toto. i tried telling him to not be as mean." you said as you were stripped of the little shorts you wore. you could feel toto's hungry gaze on your back side. you helped him out by getting out of the tank top you wore.

"i know. he simply can't help it. always has to have the last word. but i think he knew what we were getting up to tonight, he wouldn't have another thing to say." toto smirked as he rubbed the front of his sweatpants at the sight of you. you looked beautiful however he could have you. there was a certain kind of magic to you. he licked his lips, "you look like such a slut right now, princess. did you know that? that you look so desperate on your knees with your ass in the air. ready to accept me."

you whined when you felt him press up against you. your hands found support in the soft white comforter under you. you cursed into the pillows. this was a dangerous game you were playing, even as he grabbed a condom to put on. you were sleeping with the enemy, horner's main rival both on the track and off. if your father found out that you were sleeping with toto, you'd never hear the end of it.

but that excited you, as toto pushed himself into you (with the condom on), you felt nothing but excited. the anxiety over what felt like the inevitable only turned into heated lust as toto started to fuck you.

"if they saw you now, you'd be the biggest shame to your family."

"toto."

"shh, shh. sluts don't get to speak. they only use their pretty little mouths to suck cock." he said as he worked himself against you. his thrusts had a force to them that made you see stars. toto fucked like someone half his age, someone closer to you in age.

you tried not to think too hard about the age gap or why you were so enraptured by someone so much older. he was technically older than your father, but yet you were a panting mess on the bed as he took you like a proper lover.

none of the boys at your school could ever make you feel this good. they stumbled their way through sex and asked for a round of applause when they gave you a crumb of pleasure. not toto, never toto. he knew exactly how to make you squirm and near scream. as he pushed your head further into the soft pillows, your hips further raised as he worked himself against you. the sex between you two was magnetic.

toto was thankful that he had you all to himself, that he didn't pass up the opportunity the way he did on a professional level. horner could be smug about verstappen's winnings, but toto would only be more smug at the idea that he got to fuck the daylights out of horner's sweet princess of a daughter. that she was back in his home waiting for him to make her cum over and over again.

sometimes it wasn't about winning one battle, it was about winning the entire war. maybe one day toto will proper introduce himself to your father, not as a colleague but as your fiance. but that was for another time, for now he was content with watching your ass with the quick movements of his thrusts.

"look at you, your father would be so dissapointed. all those years in private school." he squeezed your ass and continued to thrust up into you. he watched how your body moved against him. it was the perfect sight, you look perfect under him.

"fuck, please. toto." you whined as you lifted your head from the pillows for a moment, only for him to shove them back into the covers. you whined against the soft white pillowcases and felt the pleasure wash over you. you panted heavily and let toto fuck you into sweet submission.

he groaned as he continued to fuck up into you. he loved the feeling of your cunt slick around him. your pussy was like a vice and it left hi hungry for more. he quickened his pace and you felt the electricity in your blood. he was undeniable, he was something so alluring that it made your head throb. your core was soaked and you carnally needed him, even his dirty words made you hot all over.

"you feel beautiful under me. all mine, you know that already." his hands held onto your hips tightly as he worked himself into you. he enjoyed the pleasure, the heat of it all made him only yearn for more. he let out a sharp groan and continued to work himself inside of you. his cock throbbed for you.he continued to fuck you, working his hips against your ass as his cock nudged against all the right places.

you felt divine, a heavenly intervention for him. he kept up the pace, he worked the flesh of your skin with his hands as he loomed over you with heavy movements. the two of you were warmed, flushed with sexual want for one another as the pleasure washed over both of you.

"please, toto." you gasped as you arched your back further. you felt the intensity of pleasure come over you, you climaxed as you held onto the covers tightly. your face squished against the pillows as you tensed up. the feeling left you out of breath, you panted as you relaxed a few moments after.

toto basked in the feeling of you. the warmth of you, all of your love. the hammering in his chest was intense. he thrusted against you further, letting the pleasure bloom in his chest. the felt the excitement in his core as he fucked you feverishly. you felt like a dream come true with the amount of heat in his body. his movements picked up and with a few more strong thrusts he finished inside of you. the condom protected from any mishaps, but he loved being able to finish inside of your tight pussy.

"perfect. perfect for me." he said with affection in his tone as he slowed to a stop and admired your backside for a moment then pulled out.

you laid out in bed and watched him dispose of the condom. even if this was your father's enemy, you couldn't care. you didn't want to care about it. toto was yours above all else, the rivalry will fade one day and all you'll be left with is your adoring lover.

as he got back into bed and you wrapped yourself up in him. he kissed you on the lips, he held you by your middle and pressed you up against him.

"the only good thing your father ever did was have you, my princess." he said softly.

you rolled on top of him, straddled his waist and put both hands on his chest, "enough about my old man, either you get me my wine or we can go another round." then winked at him.

toto may have a career regret with verstappen, but he'd never have the same regret when it came to his personal life. because as you straddled his waist, he always knew that he'd have you <3

[krazycat6167]

Say No

(written for @keferon’s Apocalyptic Ponyo AU. A bit of Jazz and Prowl set after most of the events of the au. Enjoy!)

-.-.-.-

Prowl watches from the sidelines as Jazz goes through yet another interview. He can’t shake the feeling that there is something off with Jazz. That there is something that isn’t right. 

Oh sure, Jazz looks happy, but Prowl doesn’t trust it. He doesn’t know why he doesn’t trust it though, so he’s scrutinizing Jazz and his behavior to try and figure it out. 

The other orca mer is smiling, talking as animated as he usually does (though notably trying to be polite by staying in one general area), using his hands as he speaks. Those are normal Jazz things to do, even if he seems a bit…more Jazz-y? He’s using a bit more inflection, slightly more exaggerated movements, a smidge extra charm behind the smile. The effect is entertaining, sure, but-.

But…he is…being entertaining. He is here, in an interview, answering questions both benign and personal, and he is putting on a show. 

Prowl’s gaze flicks around the room. Multiple cameras, stage lights, a dazzled audience. 

The interviewer, masterfully directing Jazz through the narrative with light and heavy topics and making sure to end on a high note. 

Jazz, big movements, big personality, put on display like a thing to be marveled at. 

A large grin that had been bothering Prowl the whole time because it is wrong. And now he knows it’s because it is fake. 

When the interview ends and Jazz swims offstage, Prowl takes his arm and leads him away. Away from the crowds, the lights, the cameras. Just away. From everything. Anyone who even thinks of approaching the two as they leave take one look at Prowl's hard expression and become too scared to even try. 

“While I enjoy swimming with you,” Jazz says when they are properly away from everyone, “is there a reason we left so quick?”

“You were uncomfortable.” Prowl answers. 

“Is that so?” Jazz says, amused. 

Prowl stops and turns to Jazz, stopping the other mer cold with a hard stare. “Yes, you were. You were putting on a show like it was still an obligation you owed for living somewhere when in reality you don’t owe anyone anything of yourself that you don’t want to give.”

The fact that Jazz looks shocked by this makes Prowl’s heart clench painfully. 

Prowl takes both of Jazz’s large hands in his. “I’m sorry,” he says while giving his hands a reassuring squeeze, “that I didn’t see it sooner. You did so many interviews and I didn’t see how similar they were to that tank until now.”

“Wha- hey, no,” Jazz brings their hands closer to his chest. “don’t apologize for this when it wasn’t even your fault. They asked to hear my story and-“

“And you could’ve told them no.” Prowl interrupts. “You don’t have to do these things anymore. You can say no. You can leave off you want. You aren’t confined to a small space anymore with no escape and no privacy. You can say no.”

“I- I can say no.” Jazz whispers like it’s revelation straight from the vents below. “I can leave.”

“You don’t have to do things you don’t want.”

Jazz floats there, clutching Prowls hands to his chest like they’re a lifeline, as his gaze drifts down in thought. “What I want…”

Slowly, Jazz looks up at Prowl. “I want you to show me that Crystal Reef you were talking about.”

Prowl smiles. “This way then.”

-.-.-.-

Two of the things Jazz loves about Mer society are the pouches that he can carry stuff—his stuff—in and the phones. After years of seeing humans use them (filming him, taking pictures of him), he now has one of his very own. An underwater phone, a fish phone, a fone (“It’s funny Prowler, trust me.”). It’s awesome!

Not very awesome right this second though. 

It’s vibrating, meaning someone is calling him. The screen only shows a frequency instead of a name, meaning it’s someone he doesn’t know. 

He sees Prowl look at him curiously from where he’s been sunbathing next to him as Jazz answers.

“Hello?”

“Hello! I am Undertow, a reporter with The Tuning Trident. Is this Jazz?”

Jazz sits up. “Yeah, I’m Jazz.”

“Excellent!” Undertow says, chipper. “We have been working on an article covering your story and the trials you went through. We here at The Tuning Trident are dedicated to bringing our readers the most accurate information that we can provide and we were wondering if you could come over sometime within the next few days to answer a few questions we have about your experience.”

Jazz freezes. He…doesn’t really want to talk about it with reporters anymore. He’ll just have to politely turn them down. 

Jazz opens his mouth, but no sound comes out. His throat is suddenly dry. He swallows his trepidation and tries again. “Uh…”

Is that it? Is that all he can bring himself to say that isn’t a fake and enthusiastic agreement?

The reporter on the phone starts talking again. “Of course, if coming in is an inconvenience, we can have a small team come to you to conduct the interview. We are very flexible here, so whatever may be best for you, we can certainly work with!”

That was even worse! He didn’t want nosy strangers coming to his favorite spots!

But he still can’t say no. 

His gaze flicks to Prowl, desperately and silently pleading for help. 

Prowl sits up and holds his hand open to Jazz. Jazz gives him the phone. 

“I regret to inform you,” Prowl says with no regret or remorse, “that Jazz won’t be doing any interviews for the time being.”

“It’ll just be a quick thing.” Undertow promises in a small tinny voice that Jazz can still hear. “Only a couple of questions to clarify a few facts.”

“No.”

“I- but- who is this? Who are you to speak for Jazz?”

��His manager.” Prowl's tone turns cold. “He is not available for an interview at this time.”

“Why not?”

“Jazz has his reasons and he doesn’t owe them to you. Good day.”

“Wait, if you could just tell us-“

“No.” Prowl hangs up. “The nerve of some Mer, it’s like they forgot that you're an apex- urk!”

Jazz hugs him, eyes shut tight, tucking his head into Prowl’s shoulder, and squeezes. “Thank you.” He whispers, voice wobbly. 

Prowl returns the hug, using one hand to cradle Jazz’s head. “Of course. You deserve some peace.”

“I tried.” Jazz says to Prowl’s shoulder. “I wanted to say no. I tried but I couldn’t. I couldn’t get that one word out and I tried.”

“I know.” Prowl pats Jazz’s head through his beanie. “It’s okay. You keep trying. And until you are able, I can say no for you whenever you need.”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

[yandere-writer-momo]

Cleaning out my drafts and stumbled across this horror piece. Minors DNI please.

Yandere Head Canons: The Dollhouse Husband

Yandere Living Doll x GN Reader x One Sided Neglectful Toymaker Husband

TW: yandere themes, unhealthy relationship dynamics, obsession, neglectful husband, unhappy arranged marriage, murder, horror, and gore (mentioned)

His face was beautiful, just like your husband’s, yet he wasn’t your husband. No, this adonic doll was an imposter. A crude imitation of your distant beau. A creation your husband, Jonathan, made out of cruelty so you’d stop clinging to him and your desire for him to love you. A doll he crudely named Johnny. The nickname you affectionately called your emotionally constipated husband.

A marriage that was arranged since the two of you were young and yet your husband would not lie with you. No… he’d rather play with his toys. Jonathan told you he had made you this doll to play with so you’d leave him alone…

“What’s wrong dear?” A smooth voice whispered in your ear as lanky arms wrapped around your body to pull you closer to his. His skin felt like ice and you didn’t even feel a heartbeat… was this man undead? He wasn’t human, but you weren’t even sure if he was even living. “Is my appearance not to your liking? Your husband did his best to make me exactly in his image.”

“…” you frowned at his words, your words died off in your throat before they could even be uttered. How could you forget that your toy maker husband built you a living doll to be a crude imitation of him all because you expressed a desire for more attention. Yet it felt as if you were not worthy of having the real husband. Only this doll. A doll that would do anything you asked of it to an almost unhealthy degree.

Everywhere you want, Johnny followed. If you were in the garden, so was Johnny. If you were in the tub, Johnny would wash your hair and back for you. It didn’t matter that you were disinterested in this lifeless mockery of your husband, the doll would follow you.

“Dear? Do you not like me?” The doll asked once more as his porcelain arms wrapped around you tighter. His perfect face remained unmoved, but you swore his tenor voice sounded anxious. “I’m just as good as he is! I dote on you! I take care of you and your needs! I’m made as a perfect replica-“

“But you’re not my husband.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, your eyes filled with sadness. “Your body is as cold as ice and you have no heartbeat… your presence does nothing but make me sink into a larger pit of loneliness.”

“So you desire warm skin and a heart?” The doll asked in a hushed tone. His glassy green eyes admired your form. “If I were to be more human… would you like me more?”

“…yes.” You just wanted the conversation to be over. To bury your head on your pillow and sob until you passed out from the loneliness and pity that consumed you. Were you that unloveable that your own husband gifted you a living doll?

If only you noticed the way Johnny rested his head on your shoulder as the cogs in his mind turned. You’d love him if he had skin and a heart? He’d do just that…

How were you to know that this doll would present you Jonathan’s heart the next day in a heart shaped box with a smile that could only be described as uncanny? Not to mention the porcelain white skin that was no doubt from your husband’s own face that rested on Johnny’s like a mask.

“I have the traits you desire… so won’t you like me now? I’m better than him in every way!” He shouted as he set the box down on the dining room table in front of you. He took his pointer fingers and curved the loose skin around his lips into a smile. “We can be happy here in our dollhouse! Please! Please say you like me now!”

You felt numb as the heart in front you leaked crimson all over the box. Perhaps… this was all your own doing due to your selfishness? Of begging to be loved all your life that only a living doll would pay you any mind?

You let out a shaky sigh before you gulped. The alive burned your throat like it was acid. Your gave a fake smile to Johnny who eagerly awaited the four words he longed to hear for his entire existence.

“I like you, Johnny.”

[sturnioz]

hiii! i love your fratboy!chris and shy!reader prompts and i have an idea for one!!!

okay so i was thinking, chris comes over to reader’s house to spend the night but while reader was in the shower, he was being a little nosey and looking at the different decorations and stuff on her side table and he opens the drawer to find a vape or something similar but its not buns vape its one of her friends and they just probably forgot to grab it or something but chris is so angry because he thinks its hers. and you can think of the rest!!!

changed this req up just a bit to fit the characters !! i hope you dont mind <3

you knew chris was coming over, so he doesn't make his presence known as he walks through the front door, barely sparing a glance at bee—who's sprawled lazily across the couch, scrolling on her phone—as he makes a straight beeline toward your room.

he hears the water running in the shower in the bathroom, but as always, he doesn't hesitate to make himself at home. he pushes the door to your room open and he lays across your bed, settling back against the headboard.

his nose wrinkles almost immediately when one of your jellycats brushes against his foot, and with a sharp kick, he sends the stuffed animal tumbling to the floor, hearing the soft thud as it hits the ground.

chris exhales sharply, adjusting the cap on his head and pulling the brim lower over his eyes before he lifts his hips, reaching into the back pocket of his jeans to pull out his phone, only to scoff with the screen refuses to light up.

he tongues the inside of his cheek in irritation as he leans over the edge of your bed, his eyes scanning the floor for your charger. when he fails to find what he needs, he sits back up, his gaze shifting to your beside table, pulling open the drawer and rummaging through it.

his fingers graze over something, and he pauses.

pulling it out, he stares at the object resting in the palm of his hand. a vape. his eyebrow arches as he turns it over between his fingers, inspecting it like it's some artifact he's never seen before—even though he owns a few himself.

utter confusion flashes across his face for a brief moment, but it's quickly replaced by his usual blunt scepticism. you don't smoke. he knows that, or at least he thought he did.

why the fuck would you have this tucked away? seemingly hidden in the back of your drawer? chris leans back against the headboard, the vape still in hand, his expression unreadable as his eyebrows pinch together.

when he hears the bathroom door creak open, his sharp eyes flit toward you, watching as you step into the room wrapped in a fluffy towel, water droplets trailing down your damp skin and onto the carpet.

"since when d'you vape?"

your eyebrows pull together in confusion as you glance at him, the corner of your lips tugging downward. "i don't.."

"riiiiight..." he drawls, dragging the word out as he lifts the vape into view, letting it dangle lazily between two fingers. "'cos uh, this was just randomly hidden in the back of your drawer for no reason, yeah? a'ight, kid. whatever you say."

"it's not mine," you say softly, shaking your head as you pad over to him.

his eyes track your movements, watching your every step and when you reach out for the vape, chris pulls his hand back, his fingers curling around it tightly.

"what flavour is it?"

chris blinks at you, his eyebrow raising in disbelief. "the fuck does that matter for?"

you try again, reaching for the vape, but chris is much quicker than you. he shifts back, extending his arm further away, and before you can get even closer, his other hand darts out, curling firmly around the front of your towel to keep you at bay.

you repeat your question, and chris huffs, rolling his eyes as if you're testing the last of his patience—which you are—and he turns the vape over in his hand, staring at the label.

"watermelon ice." he mutters flatly.

"oh, it's kittys!" you exclaim, your face lighting up with a smile as you explain. "she must've left it here when she stayed over the other night. oh—i should probably tell her. i don't want her to be worried..."

you trail off, already turning your head to look around for your phone. chris doesn't move, but his silence speaks volumes as his lips part slightly, and his eyebrows knit together as he watches you.

he doesn't say a word, just stares as you spot your phone sitting on your desk across the room. barely noticing the way his hand is still gripping the front of your towel, you give it a light tug to free yourself from his hold, and chris loosens his fingers, though his gaze lingers on you as you move across the room.

he shifts once again on the bed, slowly putting the vape back down in the drawer, only for his attention to turn back to you when you stumble, your foot catching against something on the floor.

"oh," he hears you mutter softly as you lean down to pick up the jellycat he'd kicked earlier off the bed. holding it in your hands, you frown slightly, brushing it off carefully. "what are you doing on the floor?"

dividers credits. @issysh3ll

[riddlesrose]

special features

w/ azul, jamil, leona, & malleus

in which he has a certain feature that remind you a lot of nature's creatures, but it's cute. a lot cuter.

a.n; i think jamil kind of does have tiny fangs of some kind, or just longer (??) canine teeth, but take it as a headcanon of sorts. fact, lets call all of these headcanons!

enjoy this while i work on something bigger;))))

azul has blue blood coursing through his veins. the transformation potions he consumes are enough to physically change his body from an eight-legged sea creature to a human, walking on land with two legs, but even with the physical changes, azul is still at home in the sea.

you found out about his blue blood not far into knowing him, but not because he injured himself or told you– no, you had flustered the poor housewarden half to death. his face blossomed into a light blue hue that caught your attention, causing you to point it out.

"i am an octopus at the end of the day, dear. we have blue blood, not red!"

jamil takes caution to deter attention from the two prominent, sharp canine teeth that resemble snake fangs. he's spent years training himself not to smile too wide, not to yawn in public, and definitely not to point them out. he's never been particularly ashamed of them, just takes extra caution to not alarm or startle anyone, especially young children like many of kalim's siblings or his own younger sister.

he's gotten used to them over the years, but when you innocently ask about them, he's suddenly a little bit shy. he pulls the collar of his hoodie over his chin, covering most of his mouth, resulting in his fangs being hidden from your curious view.

"i was born with them, they're nothing special."

leona's eyes slit and expand like a common house cat when he's surprised or extremely pleased. he denies it every time someone brings it up, but he's usually unbothered by the curious looks he gets, as he's use to them. and really, no one would dare piss off a prince. especially a prince like leona.

when you take notice to leona's fluctuating pupils, you realize he's a lot nicer than the front he puts up. he particularly notice he's not so opposed to your presence, his pupils expand a lot when you're around, they quickly slit when someone tries to bug him, and they're dangerously sharp when someone wakes him up prematurely from a nap. but they're always somewhat blown wide when he's within an arms reach, it's almost comical how you didn't notice them sooner.

"one word, and you're banned from savanaclaw, herbivore."

malleus had never realized he's able to purr. not until you came along. he's never had someone he's been so comfortable with, someone he feels so free around. the first time it happened, you were relaxing in his room, content with drawing messy shapes on his hand.

the rumbling had you believing a storm was brewing, but malleus was in a good mood, and the sky was clear of any angry clouds. you were confused until he came closer, attempting to inspect the sky, he gently leant on your back. that's when you felt the rumble that emitted from malleus's chest.

"i simply had no idea i was capable of that, it's fascinating."

masterlist

[peachway]

My Fault: Lando's version <3

✦ characters - fem!reader x Lando Norris ✦ warnings - mention of drugs, bit violence and little blood                    ✦ word count - 4.1k

A/N - I do not own the plot and except for few, all the characters belong to Mercedes Ron. The London Nick has my heart and he's literally Lando Norris so I decided to write a My Fault: Lando's version <33 I have changed the plot just a tiny bit. And in the series i have a used nickname for the FEM OC, 'FRESA' (meaning strawberry in spanish) happy reading ✨                                                                

Third Person’s POV -

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee and blueberry muffins filled the air as Charlotte platted everything with beautiful flowers. She wanted to make breakfast for her daughter all by herself. She knew Fresa was going through a tough time after her recent breakup, and Charlotte was determined to help her daughter heal and move on.

With a warm smile, Charlotte carried a steaming mug of coffee into upstairs, where her daughter was curled up on her bed, lost in her thoughts. The sight of her little girl made her heart ache.

"Hey, sweetheart," Charlotte greeted softly, placing the mug on the bedside table. "How are you feeling?"

She looked up, her eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and a faint smile touched her lips as she saw her mother, "I'm fine mom. I called Theo but he didn't pick." she sniffs.

"Oh it's okay, it's just a little break. This happens in long distance." Charlotte said stroking her hair

"Why does it feel like we have broken up?"

"It's going to be fine, give it a little time." Charlotte soothes her, "Now come on, breakfast is ready."

"Mom, I'm not hungry," Fresa said, her voice barely a whisper.

"Come on, baby," Charlotte coaxed, her voice soft but firm. "You haven't eaten anything since yesterday."

"Just the coffee is fine," Fresa replied, retreating further into the cocoon of her blankets.

"I have a surprise for you," Charlotte offered, her smile widening, a spark of mischief in her eyes.

"Come join me downstairs." She said.

Fresa finally agreeing slowly got out of bed and followed her mother downstairs.

"Oh wow these muffins are really good."

On the kitchen island was Fresa's bestest cousin, Chloe.

"Chloe!!" Fresa screamed, her face lighting up with immense joy. She ran and threw herself into Chloe's arms, the two girls hugging tightly, their laughter filling the room.

"Surprise!" Chloe giggled.

The joyous reunion then settled into a comfortable hum, all sat down for breakfast.

"Wow mom you made everything?" Fresa smiled, impressed by the efforts.

"I can cook you know!" Charlotte laughed.

"I did made the muffins...I well helped with the batter." she admits and to that everyone chuckles.

"So baby I was thinking," she began, "Chloe is here for 3 days. So you both can go wherever you like, whatever you want to do, you can go crazy....and since it's your vacations, you can go to London with Chloe."

"London?" she asked with wide eyes.

"Yes. You know to see your dad." she said.

"Mom?" Fresa protested because her and her father's relationship wasn't in very good terms.

"You love Chloe right. Dad loves you too. I know he's done some stuff but he loves you baby." Charlotte says, "And you can also surprise Theo!"

"I don't know mom." she mumbled, taking a bite out of croissant from her plate.

"It'll be fun." she encouraged.

Fresa was initially hesitant, eventually agree. She did need some fresh air. And above that, she wanted to surprise Theo so bad.

Just as they landed Chloe informs that her dad had to go out on an important meeting and he was out of state and it brought a sigh of relief to Fresa. She still had to face him via FaceTime, however.

"Flight was alright, princess?" Clifford asked, his image flickering on the screen.

"Yes Dad." she replied.

"I'm out of town so stay with your sister for some time hmm?" he said, "I'll be there in few days."

"Okay." she replied.

"Call me if you any problem at all okay?" Clifford smiles. "Yes daddy." she nods.

"Chloe.." Clifford calls out.

"Take care of her. I don't want her to be involved with those guys. You Understand?" He warned.

"Understood uncle." she smiled.

"What was that about?" Fresa asked as soon as the call ended.

"Nothing." she dismissed.

"Listen baby, my boyfriend and I have take some time off work and are we currently living in one his villa near the forest."

"Okayy.." Fresa nods.

"So I'm gonna take you there. But please don't tell this to your dad. Please I request you." Chloe says.

"Why?" She asks.

"Because my boyfriend's father is kind of a rival to your dad and it's very messy. So please.." said Chloe.

"It's okay it's fine." she nodded.

Within an hour they had reached the beautiful villa. It was too perfect, mesmerising and straight out of a fairy tale. The modern white architecture blended seamlessly with the verdant darkness of the surrounding forest. Inside, the air was cool and subtly perfumed with the scent of flowers.

The first thing Fresa noticed was a framed photograph hanging on the wall in the living room: Two boys, standing on a race track against a race car. She could see the intensity in their eyes.

"Is nobody home?" she asked as only the butlers were present.

"Well, Liam is at work, and I think his brother might be in his room." Chloe replied, He's a dick. Don't fight with him,"

"Why would I?" Fresa raised an eyebrow.

"He doesn't particularly have a good influence. He's a good guy, but don't get too involved with him, okay?" "Okay." she nods.

"You can change and relax a bit, then we'll go somewhere nice in the evening." She said removing a strand of hair from Fresa's cheek.

"Can I just go to my room and disappear with my books?" Fresa said.

"No absolutely not. I won't leave you in here like a gremlin rat." Chloe laughed.

Y/n puts on her bathing suit and decides of read her favourite book by the nice warm sun. She sat by the edge of the pool, her bare feet dangling in the water. She opened her book, the gentle breeze rustling the pages, it was very peaceful and soothing. She felt a little good after months.

But her calm thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, explosive splash in the water. The splash drenching her and the book. She glances over to see a grinning idiot in the water.

"Sorry!" he called out.

He propelled himself towards the edge. His broad shoulders slick with water. Dark, wet strands of hair clung to his forehead, and the sun gave his skin a golden hue. But his eyes— were the prettiest blend of green and blue.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"This is my house. Who are you?" he countered, hoisting himself out a little. The water cascaded down his hair.

Fresa’s eyes narrowed. "Either you're Liam or his...dickhead brother."

"Lando," he said, the grin widening. "The dickhead brother. I was told you were coming. Not so nice to meet you?"

"Fresa," she replied, with a curt nod.

"Wow worse than I imagined." He laughs to himself.

"Why were you on the swimming pool edge if you didn't wanted to get wet." he asked.

"I just wanted to read and now you ruined my favorite book." she said as water dripped from pages.

Lando's grin only widened. He came a little closer, "Come on, Fresa, lighten up. It's a pool, meant for swimming, not sunbathing with literary casualties."

The tension was broken by the sound of the back door sliding open. Liam and Chloe emerged, hand in hand.

"I get you two have met?" Liam chuckled, glancing at Lando. "Fresa, this is Liam, my boyfriend." Chloe introduced.

"Hi!" she smiles backed.

"Well her name is actually y/n but we call her Fresa since she was 2 because she loved strawberries.." Chloe explained.

"Strawberries seriously." Lando snorted.

"And that is my asshole brother." Liam chuckles with a playful jab at Lando.

"Are you done?" Lando sneered and dives back into the water.

Later at the brunch table Liam and Chloe discussed about the next plans since Fresa had come to spent her vacations there. Lando sat across from her, his wet hair now dried and curled, framing his face. He looked at her taking a bite of toast and smiled. Fresa rolled her eyes, trying to ignore him, and focused on her omelette.

"So we can go out for a nice dinner tonight." Liam suggested.

"Oh no listen bro tonight-" Lando began, but Liam cut him off, "No! Anna is coming today. You're not going anywhere."

"Who's Anna?" Fresa asked.

"His girlfriend." Chloe teases.

"Thank you for answering" Lando smiles mockingly.

"Lando you can't run from it. We're going out, dinner at 7. And you can't leave the house till then." Liam ordered.

"You're not dad." Lando retorted, standing up and leaving the table.

The evening approached and everybody was ready to go out. Fresa went with Liam and Chloe whereas Lando went separately in his McLaren. Fresa was nesteled in back seat, imagining Theo face when she’ll surprises him tomorrow and about all the things they’ll do together. It was cheery drive. But the good time was limited. Fresa receives a text from her friend who was in London, attached were the photos of Theo kissing another girl. Fresa's head started hurting and she couldn't control her tears as they overflowed her eyes. She didn't wanted to ruin the mood so she didn't say anything to anybody.

After reaching the restaurant Fresa tried to be composed and to stop her emotions but she failed. She stared at the menu, the fancy letters unreadable to her.

"Chloe?" she whispered, her voice trembling.

Just then, Lando's phone rang, a sharp chime that cut through the restaurant's soft murmur. He excused himself and moved away from the table.

"Yes, baby?" Chloe asked "Can I go home?" she said.

"Is everything alright? You don't look good." asked Liam. "Just a headache," Fresa lied,"Can we please do this dinner later?"

Chloe squeezed her hand, her touch comforting. "Of course, no problem. I'll call you a uber." Her eyes, though, were sharp, searching. "But if there's anything at all, you can tell me, okay?"

Lando returned, his expression tight. "Listen, Liam... I have to go." "Where?" Liam asked.

"Work," Lando replied. "I swear to god, if you're again going to that bloody—" Liam began, but he cuts him off, "No, this is important. It's Lion. He called, he wants to meet at his place."

"Okay, go." Liam's shoulders relaxed slightly, "Wait, take her too," Liam ordered, gesturing towards Fresa.

"No. She can go by herself!" Lando shook his head.

"Lando!" Liam sighs.

"She's your girlfriend's sister, your problem not mine." He argued.

"Come on Lion's place is on the way to our home...go drop her home, then you can go wherever you want." Liam insisted.

"Fine." Lando rolled his eyes, "Come." he said to Fresa, his tone rather rough, offering no comfort, only a means to an end. The night, which had started good was now a mess of broken trust and forced companionship.

The silence in the car stretched. A little uncomfortable, as Lando sped away from the restaurant.

"So you like racing?" Fresa asked to break the silence.

"I loved it. Me and Liam both," Lando replied.

"That picture.." she said, remembering the photograph on the wall.

"It’s me and Liam. We used to go karting and racing together." Lando nodded.

"You don't go anymore?" she asked.

"No, I left. He made me." a shadow passed over Lando's face, "My dad." he said.

"Your dad?" Fresa looked at him.

"Please don’t talk about him. I don't talk about my dad," he said, his voice clipped.

"Why are you getting all prickly and irritated. Such a Typical spoiled brat." she said.

Lando's knuckles whitened on the steering wheel. The car swerved slightly, and Fresa braced herself. "What did you just say?" His voice was low. "Aren't you a spoiled brat too? Doesn't talk to Daddy but is still here to meet him. She hates him but loves his money." He said.

"You know nothing about me," she said, her voice a low, tremor.

"You know nothing about me either. Yet you judged me. I'm not a spoiled kid" he countered.

"Okay leave it. I don’t know what I just said." Fresa gave up.

"Is this your way of apologising? Because you're terrible at it." Lando scoffed, the bitterness clinging to his tongue.

"Why should I apologise? I've been told you're a dick and you're kinda proving that right now." she said.

"You're the one who started it," he snapped.

"I told you to drop it," she hissed.

"I would have if you had simply just apologised." said Lando.

"I'm not apologising." Fresa glares.

"Get out." he suddenly says, his voice cold and flat.

"What?" Fresa stared at him.

"I said, get out of my car," he repeated, his eyes fixed on the road. "I'm not taking you home."

He pulled the car to the side of the road.

"You're not serious?" Fresa's eyes widened.

"Dead serious," he said, his voice hard. "Get out."

They were far from the city, on a dark, deserted stretch of highway.

Fresa glares him, she gets out of the car and slammed the car door shut, the sound echoing in the quiet night. Lando drives away leaving her all alone.

He rushed through the dimly lit streets. The roads seemed the type where all the illegal shit happens. He reached at the location and pulled up beside the Camaro there. Lion was slumped in the driver's seat, his face pale and streaked with blood. "What the hell happened to you?" Lando growled, his voice tight with anger.

Lion's palms were sweaty, his eyes wide with fear. "Nothing, man, I tripped. But forget that, I have a bigger issue!" He held up a medium-sized package, his hands trembling. "My brother told me to deliver it here and told me not to open it, but I'm an idiot. It's cocaine!"

"What the hell Lion! If you wanted money, you could've just asked me. Why are you doing these kind of things?" Lando cursed, his frustration boiling over.

"Forget about that, man, help me out now!" Lion pleaded, his voice cracking. "Don't go in there then," Lando said, his eyes fixed on the entrance to the pub.

"They'll kill me, Lando!" Lion cried, his voice laced with panic. "Well what do you want me to do?" Lando asked, his patience wearing thin.

"Come with me, I will mess things up! I need some support," Lion replied, his eyes pleading. "No!" Lando shook his head

"Okay, let's go back home. The person I was supposed to deliver this will come after me because this is worth 1 lakh pounds! And I will die just because you didn't come with him there!" Lion said, his voice rising in desperation. "God, you're so dramatic. Okay, Fine." Lando sighed.

Just as they were about to go in Fresa slid into the back seat of the car. "What the hell are you doing here?" The already angry Lando snapped.

"I left my phone in your car!" she countered, a simple shrug dismissing his expressions.

Lion, perched back. "That's your new girlfriend?"

"Shut up!" Lando retorted, his face flushing. "I had called you a cab and rather than going home you followed me?"

"Yes. I had the location on so it was pretty easy." she replied.

"You could have waited for me to come back home!" he scoffed.

"You irritated me so much, now I’ll irritate you. What are you doing here anyways?" She asked.

"We need to go—" Lion began, but Lando cut him off with a sharp glare. "This isn't a game, Fresa. You need to leave. Now." he ordered.

"No" she replied with a hint of defiance.

"Ugh, my god. Okay, stay in the car. We'll be out in a few minutes," Lando said but was she going to listen? No.

While Lando and Lion disappeared into the dimly lit back room to deal with Ronnie, Fresa, alone, wandered to the front of the club. She tried to blend into the shadows, but Ronnie's brother, Robert, had already fixed his gaze on her. He slid into the seat beside her,

"Hi" he greeted.

She doesn't say anything, just smiles back.

"Not much of a talker I see."

"Drink?" He said pushing over a gin to her.

With the anger over Theo she gulped it down without thinking much.

Meanwhile, in the back room, tensions were escalating. Ronnie had discovered a discrepancy in the weight of the package Lion had delivered.

"It's opened," he growled, his eyes narrowed.

"Dunno. I just delivered it as it got," Lion stammered, his Adam's apple bobbing nervously.

"It's missing 100gms ," Ronnie said, placing the package on a scale.

"Come on man it's just 100?" Lando said, trying to diffuse the situation.

"You know how much it costs? That's gonna cost me thirteen thousand pounds," he glared.

"Thirteen thousand??" Lando repeated, his eyes widening.

"It's uncut. Pure." Ronnie said, "now I need my money."

"Fine. I'll get the money to you by tomorrow," Lando retorted, trying to maintain a composure.

"Tomorrow?" Ronnie shook his head.

"Look I can't just magically get that kind of cash okay? There's a limit on the ATM." Lando argued, frustration taking over him.

"Alright, fine. Go," Ronnie nodded, his eyes still holding a threat.

Lando and Lion sighed in relief, eager to escape. They hurried back to the front of the club only to see Fresa stumbling towards the exit door with Robert’s arm draped around her shoulder.

Lando ran over and pushes him away.

"Easy there boy" Robert yelled.

"Fresa!" Lando called. He cupped her face, his thumb gently tracing her cheek.

"She's a beauty isn't she." Robert smiled smugly.

"Fresa, look at me," Lando said, his concern growing into a burning fear.

"Lan..." she slurred, her words barely coherent. One drink couldn't do that and as far as Robert's reputation goes, he definitely drugged her.

"Here." Lando carefully lifted her onto a nearby table. Then, he turned to face Robert and his goons, his eyes a cold, unwavering stare.

"What?" Robert sneered.

With a swift, brutal movement, Lando's punch landed Robert's face. When the first blow didn't bring the man down, he struck again, this time breaking his nose. The guy falls down on the ground with the force and the temperature in the room rises.

Robert wastes no time in giving the fist back to Lando. From then it all became a chaos. Ronnie came to the front and joined in the fight. Everyone started hitting each other like crazy, they'd hit with whatever is nearby, the glasses, alcohol bottles, chairs and what not.

Nobody touched Fresa. She was just sitting in the corner, not understanding what was actually happening in front of her. When she saw a woman pointing a knife at Lando's back, she quickly grabbed a glass from the table and breaks it onto her head.

"You bitch!" The woman shouts. She slashes Fresa in her stomach and Fresa punches her back, both fell down to the ground fighting further.

"FRESA!" Lando yells as he tries to fight off Ronnie.

Suddenly faint siren could be heard outside and it wasn't long before the cops got there.

"POLICE, STAND DOWN!" The officers barge in with guns.

They got hold of Lando, Lion and Fresa and some others but Ronnie and Robert had slid out the back door. "Damn you officer, those goons ran away." Lando cussed.

"Lando Norris, you are enough for us." The officer said snapping handcuffs around his wrists.

This was bad. He was trying to get way from these types things as much as he can and now Fresa was a part of this too. She was trapped in a war she didn't understand. He needed to get her out of this. He needed to fix this. Ronnie already hated Lando and he surely won't let this slide.

As soon as they reached the station, Lando reached out to his lawyer friend, Anna. And secured their release by the following afternoon. Lando decided it was best for Fresa to stay away from her home right now so he took her back to his villa.

Fresa cleans up and sat on the kitchen island, her head pounding, her stomach churning. The aftereffects of the drug were still lingering, blurring her thoughts and making it difficult to focus. She felt disoriented and vulnerable.

Lando came in from upstairs and glanced at her as he made some ginger tea. "Here, it'll help," he said, giving her a steaming cup. "How are you doing?"

"Me? I just got drugged, stabbed and arrested. In one day! Oh I'm doing awesome!" she replied.

"I'm sorry." Lando apologises, his eyes filled with genuine regret.

"Where's Liam?" She asked.

"Dad called him back for an important case so he and Chloe went back. But they'll be here anytime soon."

"Does he know how much of a saint his little brother is?" She chuckled.

"No please don't drag my brother into this. He's clean. He'll kill me if he knows I'm involving in such things. Sorry please." Lando pleaded.

"It's okay. It was really my fault." She said.

"You told me not to come but i didn't listen and took that drink. God how stupid am I....I guess I was angry."

"On whom?" Lando asked, his voice gentle.

"My boyfriend, Theo....It was almost over between us when he moved here in London and I was trying to mend it. I thought it was because of the long distance thing but it turns out he was cheating on me."

"What a loser." Lando scoffed.

She chuckles and then hisses as she shifts in her chair and feels a sharp pain. Last night's wound.

"Can I see it?" Lando asks.

Fresa lifts her shirt and and he saw the red bandage gash above her waist, to the side. "You're bleeding through." Lando said, his brow furrowing. He hurriedly grabs the first aid box and guided her to the couch.

Then he carefully cleaned the wound. His touch surprisingly gentle. Fresa gripped Lando's shirt as the antiseptic stung, a sharp, clean pain. "I'm almost done," he reassured her.

The scent of antiseptic filled the air, an oddly comforting aroma. Fresa's gaze drifted to Lando's face, his brow furrowed in concentration. He was so close, every detail of his expression magnified.

As he finished bandaging the wound, his fingers brushed against her skin, a feather-light touch that sent a shiver down her spine. He looked up, his eyes meeting hers.

The silence continued with only the chirping of birds outside. Lando's gaze lingered on her lips. He leaned in, his breath warm against her cheek. She closed her eyes, feeling his lips brushing against her cheek.

Then his lips moved to hers, a soft, tentative exploration. The kiss was gentle, hesitant. But as she gave him access, the kiss deepened, becoming more passionate. Her hands found their way to his hair, her fingers in the soft curls.

He pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers. A soft smile played on his lips. "Do you want go to a party?" he asked.

"A party?" she chuckled.

"No no! Not like last night. Liam and Chloe will be there too!" He laughed.

"So you're not angry at me anymore?" he asked, his eyes searching hers.

"Yes, still am," she replied, a playful smirk playing on her lips. "But maybe tomorrow, right now I'm in a little pain," she smiled.

"Wow, Chloe, look, the house is standing," Liam laughed as he entered with Chloe. Seeing them, Lando moved away, and Fresa adjusted her shirt back.

"What you kids do when we were out?" Liam asked, settling onto the couch.

"Played in the sand" Lando sneered.

"What happened to your hands?" Chloe asked, noticing Lando's reddened knuckles.

"What happened to you?" Liam asked, seeing Fresa's forehead wound.

"I, uh, don't know...I think I was drunk and I fell," she stammered a little.

"And you went for a boxing match, didn't you?" Liam glared at Lando. "You do boxing?" Fresa asked, looking at Lando. "I've told you a million times to quit, but you never listen, right?" Liam continued. "You didn't take Fresa with you, did you?"

"No!" Lando and Fresa replied in unison, their voices too quick, too synchronized, making them even more suspicious.

"Anyways where's Anna?" Liam asked.

"She's late, she had some important work so she'll come by tomorrow morning." Lando answers and Liam nods.

Anna. The words echoed through Fresa's ears. Did she just kissed Lando despite him having a girlfriend? Guilt washes over her.

[4.1k words]

[majorlb]

Edwin didn't get to have his confession the way he wanted it, in a brightly colored sunlit room, dressed up nicely and holding his loves' hand as he tells him how he feels.

He gets derailed, distracted and then dragged to Hell. His confession is nothing like what he wanted it to be, dressed in his underthings, running from his biggest fear with Charles bearing witness to all the horror. His confession is hurried and pained, in the dark.

Both times he's fully prepared for rejection, but that never comes. Charles doesn't reject him, instead he says 'I love you, give me time'

They have all the time in the world, and Edwin will wait forever if he needs to.

It doesn't take forever. It takes 4 months.

Charles wants it to be good, great, perfect. All for Edwin. So he thinks back to that day in Town Portsend, when Edwin tried to talk to him in his cute little outfit, the calm and quiet and just the two of them.

So he recreates it, he picks a day when they're not working a case, Crystal is busy with school and the sun is shining brightly through the office windows. He tells Edwin to 'put on that sweater again', refuses to elaborate, but Edwin humors him and dresses up for him.

"Well then, Charles, now what?" and the what comes as Charles gently taking his hand, kissing his knuckles.

It makes him gasp softly, because he's not expecting such a thing, not now, not ever, and yet-

"I've given it so much thought, Edwin. Turned it over and around. Taken a proper look at it in every angle and it all comes back to this, to you."

"Charles.."

"I love you, Edwin, in every way there is. I'm so in love with you, I'm surprised to took me so long to see it, but it's as easy as breathing so maybe that's why I didn't notice. Have since the attic I think.."

"Me too.. I've loved you since the beginning" Charles smile is blinding, and Edwin can feel himself answer it with his own.

"Charles, " "Yeah, love?" oh, if that doesn't send Edwin's non-existent heart fluttering.

"I'm.. I'm going to kiss you now"

Not that he's very sure about the how, his only experience being one put on him by a living being that he couldn't even feel, but Edwin is determined, and so he leans forward, gently putting his lips against Charles own.

It's very different when you can feel it in its entirety. Charles is soft and a little warm against him, and while Edwin doesn't know what he's doing, Charles certainly does. So Edwin finds himself being gently pulled forward by the hand so they're standing pressed against one another. Charles puts a hand on his jaw and angles him where he wants him, and suddenly Edwin understands very well why Charles said he'd miss kissing. It's soft and makes his entire body feel tingly and warm, and then Charles tongue licks against his lips and Edwin fully body shudders. "Too much?"

"Maybe a little.."

"It's alright, we have all the time in the world."

It's so Charles to notice what he tried to do back in Town Portsend and recreate it for Edwin, so that Edwin could have what he wanted. His thoughtful Charles, who is looking at him with his warm, kind eyes, who loves him.

Edwin had his confession in Hell, only makes sense that Charles recreates heaven, just for Edwin.

[hy6erion]

I love your work ! Spend the weekend reading it all !!💕

Was wondering if I can request something cute with mel shutting up R with a kiss when she talks about nerd stuff

𝐀 𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬

𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐚 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦! 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

✰⍣..𝐌𝐞𝐥 𝐬𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐬 𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬- 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠. 𝐈𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐮𝐧𝐫𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐥.

The night unfolds in slow, luxurious strokes, a painting made of candlelight and the scent of warm jasmine oil curling through the still air. The silk-draped walls of Mel’s chambers breathe in gold and shadow, catching the flicker of the flames in a way that makes the space feel suspended—untouched by time, untouched by anything but the quiet hum of the city beyond.

And in the heart of it, there is you.

Your body is half-curled into the velvet embrace of her chaise, bare feet tucked beneath you, the weight of a thick research book resting against your thighs. You are a scholar first, a seeker of knowledge before all else, and tonight is no exception.

Mel watches you from her place beside you, her body a study in practiced ease—one arm draped along the back of the chaise, the other cradling a glass of wine between her fingers. She is not a woman who moves without purpose. Every tilt of her head, every shift of her gaze, is calculated—designed to disarm, to draw in, to conquer without force.

And yet, with you, she only watches. Listens. Waits.

You have yet to notice.

Your thoughts are elsewhere, carried away on the tide of your own endless curiosity. She can see it in the way your fingers twitch against the edge of the page, in the way your lips part—just slightly—before the words come spilling forth.

“Did you know,” you begin, voice quiet, though threaded with that familiar excitement, “that mana resonance in an enclosed system can mimic organic energy cycles? If properly refined, it could—”

She lets you speak.

Because how could she not?

Your voice moves like water, fluid and untamed, slipping through the cracks of everything structured and expected. You are not careful with your words—not in the way she is. You do not weigh them like weapons or measure them like currency. You offer them freely, without hesitation, without fear of scarcity.

And gods, it is mesmerizing.

“—Heimerdinger’s equations suggest a degradation over time, but I think there’s an alternative model he failed to consider—”

Mel shifts, the movement slow, deliberate.

You don’t notice. Not yet.

“—which, if applied correctly, could lead to a near-zero energy loss in transitional states, but the real question is whether—”

She reaches out. Her fingers find your jaw, the touch feather-light, as if tracing the edges of something fragile, something precious.

And at last—finally—your words falter.

The breath between them catches, uncertain, unfinished. Mel smiles.

“You were saying?” she murmurs, her voice honeyed silk, warm and knowing.

You blink, your mind caught between the unraveling of theory and the sudden, grounding presence of her touch.

“I—I was just explaining that—”

Mel tilts your face up, just enough to catch the flickering glow of candlelight in your eyes.

“Yes?”

The syllable is a whisper, a challenge wrapped in something softer.

You swallow. “That the—”

Mel kisses you. It is not rushed. It is not desperate. It is the slow press of warmth against parted lips, the quiet hum of something inevitable unfurling between the space of a breath.

She tastes of wine and something sweeter, something richer—something that lingers even after she pulls back, leaving only the ghost of her touch against your mouth.

Silence drapes itself over the room like silk, thick and heavy, waiting to be disturbed.

Mel watches you with a gaze too knowing, too self-satisfied.

“Much better,” she muses, the curve of her lips betraying the amusement she does not speak.

You inhale sharply, blinking as though trying to recalibrate your thoughts—trying to remember the shape of the sentence you had been building, the argument you had been forming.

It is gone. Utterly, entirely gone.

“You—” The word is breathless, half-formed. You shake your head, as if that might clear it. “You could have just asked me to stop talking.”

Mel hums, low in her throat, her fingers still tracing lazy patterns along your jaw.

“And deny myself the pleasure of watching you unravel?”

Your breath catches.

The way she says it—the way the word curls around her tongue like something intimate, something meant only for the two of you—sends a flush of heat pooling beneath your skin.

Mel’s smile deepens. Ah. So easy. So devastatingly easy.

She shifts closer, not quite touching, but close enough that the warmth of her presence presses against you like a second skin. Close enough that when she speaks again, her words brush against the corner of your mouth.

“I rather like this method.”

Your pulse is a traitor, betraying you in the way it quickens beneath her touch.

The sharp edges of your mind—so precise, so measured—have gone soft, dulled by the haze of something unfamiliar, something intoxicating.

You are a woman of logic. A woman of reason.

And yet, here you are, utterly undone by nothing more than the careful placement of Mel Medarda’s lips against yours.

She sees it. She sees everything.

And gods, she enjoys it. But she is not cruel.

So, she waits.

Waits for you to find your breath again. Waits for you to find the words you are so used to wielding with ease.

You inhale. You exhale.

And then, very quietly, you murmur:

“…Would you do it again?”

Mel’s breath hitches—so softly, so imperceptibly, that you might have imagined it.

But you didn’t.

A slow, deliberate smile unfurls across her lips, golden eyes gleaming with something deeper, something satisfied.

“Darling,” she murmurs, brushing a thumb over the corner of your mouth, “all you ever had to do was ask.”

And this time—when she kisses you—there are no more words between you.

Only the quiet, steady hum of something waiting to be understood.

[shineon3]

hi sarah! for the situations ask game

22 + 43 maxiel 👀

From here.

Hi tysh!! This was fun to write tbh ^^ so here's some Fake dating + Truth or dare maxiel for you ❤️

“Okay, yall, we’re playing truth or dare!”

Max winces, his groan drowned in the sea of cheers that erupt in the room. Trust Charles for wanting to play stupid drinking games.

Next to him, Daniel laughs, loud and unrestrained, like he always gets as soon as he’s just a little bit tipsy. 

Max watches the first rounds play out, thankfully being spared by the spinning bottle sitting in the middle of the table. He watches Franco awkwardly flirt with Lewis for a dare, cringes when Alex has to spill the beans about the infamous throat infection incident while George tries to get the earth to swallow him whole.

And then, just as he got comfortable being a spectator, the world sends him the biggest ‘fuck you’ ever uttered. 

“So, Max. Truth or dare, hm?”

There’s a dangerous glint in Charles’ eyes, and he swallows, throat clicking a bit too loudly. 

“Uh, truth, I guess?”

Charles’ smile widens, almost shark-like. Around them, the whole table falls silent.

“How did you and Daniel start dating?”

Max wonders if he can escape this if he slams his head hard enough against the table.

See, the thing is, Max and Daniel aren’t dating. Not really. It’s just that, at the beginning of the season, Charles, the paddock’s biggest gossip, had caught them sleeping in the same bed, something they did whenever one of them ended up being too tired after hanging out, and had drawn his own conclusions. Neither Max nor Daniel had denied it, thinking that Charles was just teasing them, but the Monegasque had spilled the beans to the whole grid, who now also believes they're dating. 

Daniel had laughed when he found out, and then shrugged.

“They’ll understand their mistake sooner or later, I reckon. It’s not like we’re actually dating, Maxy, right?”

It just had to come back and bite their asses.

Of course.

Max should have known.

“We’re- Charles, we’re not dating.”

“Don’t lie, Max, I saw you. Daniel was practically naked in your bed!”

Fuck. Daniel had been practically naked in his bed. But that’s only because he’s used to sleeping in his boxers! It’s not weird! 

Right?

Something tickles the shell of his ears, making him shiver. 

“Go on, Maxy. Be a good boy and tell ‘em how we started dating, hm? Or should I do that for you, darling?”

Daniel’s deep, crooning voice rumbles right against his ear, and Max can feel himself flush. The brunette’s arms wrap around his waist, under the cover of the table, playing with the hem of his shirt. Fuck. How could Max forget how touchy Daniel gets when drunk?

“I suppose it is acceptable, if you’re the one to tell us,” Charles' smile is somehow even wider. Max will be getting new, better friends, after this. “Spill the beans, Daniel.”

And Daniel does. He tells an elaborated story about the start of their supposed relationship, where he “seduces Max with his wild looks and gentleman manners”, whatever that might mean. Max doesn’t fully pay attention to it, especially when Daniel’s hands shift lower, dangerously close to where Max has been half hard for a while, the older’s curious hands roaming around his midsection coupled with the way Daniel spoke to him just a minute ago enough to rile him up. 

Okay, so. Max might have a tiny, itty bitty insignificant crush on his best friend. Might. He can’t help it if Daniel insists on looking like sex on legs whenever he wears clothes, if Daniel constantly crashes his bed because he “sleeps better on it”, if Daniel always invites him out for dinner, if-

“ - but if you’ll excuse us, I think Maxy and I have some things to do. Adios, losers.”

Max tunes back in just in time to get up when Daniel tugs at his arms, a big grin almost spreading his face in half. The brunette drags him out of the club and into a cab, tucking himself as close as physically possible to Max.

“We’re going back to my room, and unless you’re against it, I’m going to take my sweet time fucking you. Capiche?”

Max has never said yes to anything this fast. 

[vandme12]

hear me out

ronin walking in on his darling listening to recordings of his voice. how would he react?

Devil on Repeat

The apartment is too quiet without him. It always is.

You try to fill the silence—music, TV, podcasts—but nothing sticks. Nothing hums in your bones the way he does. So, really, it’s not creepy. It’s just… coping.

Your finger hovers over the folder labeled ‘goreboy.wavs’, half-embarrassed even though you’re alone. A little treasure trove, collected piece by piece—snippets of his voice from late-night calls, glitched-out recordings he’s dropped in the chat, and that one unhinged rant about moral relativism he left on your voicemail at 3 AM.

And maybe you play them more often than you should. Maybe his voice has become something like nicotine, curling around your lungs in a way that’s addictive, dangerous, and a little too good. But hey—you miss him. And he is a comfort. Even if the comfort in question would happily dissect a man just to watch his heart stutter out.

The recording crackles to life.

"Aww, did I make you blush? Don’t worry, darlin’—I’d blush too if I were thinking about me."

You bury your face in your hands. God, he’s unbearable.

And yet… you press play on the next one.

"Y’know, for someone so sweet, you’ve got the most deliciously wicked little thoughts. I should be concerned. I’m not. I’m proud."

A breath shudders out of you, tension bleeding from your shoulders as his voice thrums warm and low in your ears. You could close your eyes and almost pretend he’s here—stretching out on your couch like he owns the place, knife twirling between clever fingers. But he’s not, and the ghost of him isn’t enough, so you play another.

"Miss me?"

The recording is barely a whisper, rough-edged and intimate. It’s unfair, really, the way he sounds like sin spun into sound. And, okay, maybe you replay that one a little more often. Just to hear it. Just because—

"Y’know," a familiar voice drawls behind you, smooth and wicked, "If you wanted to hear my voice that bad, darlin’, all you had to do was ask."

Oh, fuck.

Your heart slams against your ribs as you whirl around, and there he is—leaning in the doorway like a devil straight out of your dreams, all sharp teeth and sharper eyes. His horns catch the light as he tilts his head, and that smile—that smile—could peel the skin from your bones.

You scramble to pause the recording, too late, and the sound of his own voice still hangs thick in the air. His grin stretches wider. "Really? That one?"

"I—" Your throat is dry. "It’s not—"

"It’s not creepy," he finishes for you, voice dripping mock-sweet. "Nah, sweetheart. Just adorable. You missed me that much, huh?"

The worst part is, he’s not even mad. If anything, he looks delighted—like you’ve gifted him some precious little secret to tuck under his tongue and savor.

You try—try—to salvage your dignity. "I was just—"

"Just missin’ me," he purrs, pushing off the doorframe. His boots are soundless against the floor as he crosses the room, lazy and predatory, until he’s crowding into your space. "Aw, darlin’… if I knew you were gettin’ this lonely, I’d’ve come home sooner."

His hand slides under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. Too close. Too warm. You can feel the heat of him bleeding through your skin, burning you from the inside out.

"You’re enjoying this way too much," you mutter, but it comes out breathless.

He chuckles, dark and indulgent. "Of course I am. My sweet little thing, sittin’ here all alone, playin’ my voice on repeat? That’s the best ego boost I’ve had all week." His thumb brushes the curve of your jaw, deceptively gentle. "Gonna confess how many times you’ve listened, or should I guess?"

You refuse to dignify that with a response.

He laughs—bright and reckless, like you’ve said something funny—and you hate how much you love the sound of it. How much you missed it.

"You’re lucky I think it’s cute," he says, and then—because he’s a menace—he reaches past you to press play.

"Miss me?" his voice whispers again, syrup-sweet.

"Y’know," he murmurs, real and right here, "It’s better live."

Your face is burning. "I hate you."

"No, you don’t," he croons, eyes glinting. "You’re obsessed with me."

You should push him away. You should deny it. But your resolve crumbles when he tips your chin higher and leans in close enough for his breath to ghost across your lips.

"So," he murmurs, wicked and warm, "How bad did you miss me, darlin’?"

"Not that bad," you lie, and the smile that breaks across his face is devastating.

"Liar."

The next kiss isn’t soft. It’s a claim—teeth and heat and all the time you’ve been apart poured into the press of his mouth against yours. His hand fists in your hair, tilting your head back, and you let him take—steal—whatever he wants. Because this is the truth between you, raw and undeniable: you missed him. And he missed you too.

He pulls back just enough to breathe you in, thumb tracing the curve of your bottom lip. "Keepin’ my voice like that," he muses, half-laughing. "God, you’re precious. ‘M gonna start leavin’ you messages on purpose—hell, maybe a whole bedtime story. Would you like that, sweetheart?"

Your stomach flips. "You wouldn’t."

"Oh, I would," he promises, delighted at the thought. "Every night. Just for you. Somethin’ to keep you warm while I’m gone."

He’s still teasing, still playing—but there’s an edge of something real beneath it, something raw and hungry and yours.

And maybe it’s stupid, but you want to keep it. Want to press your fingers to the pulse of him and feel it beat against your skin.

"You’re ridiculous," you say softly.

His smile gentles—just a fraction. "Yeah. But I’m your ridiculous. Don’t forget it."

He kisses you again, softer this time, but no less possessive. And when he finally pulls back, you’re left dizzy, breathless, and aching in a way that no recording could ever match.

"So," he drawls, like he hasn’t just wrecked you, "Gonna play me another one?"

"Get out."

He laughs, bright and reckless, and doesn’t move an inch.

[xoxochb]

“wait!”

you pause in your movements, awaiting percy’s next words.

he holds up his index finger and walks to the pantry cabinet. you sigh and drop the mixing spoon against the side of the bowl so you can keep your infant from falling off the counter until percy returns.

you smile at her. not any older than seven months old. you tap her nose lightly and watch as she begins to giggle and kick her tiny feet excitedly. you cup her small face and kiss her forehead gently.

soon enough, percy returns with a bottle of blue food dye, tossing it in the air and catching it with one hand as he takes your spot in front of the baby.

“most vital ingredient.”

you sigh and take the bottle, dropping in his recommended amount into the cookie batter before you begin to stir it again. this time it begins to turn blue not to anyone’s surprise.

there had not been one food made in this house that wasn’t blue at this point— anything that possibly could be colored was. you didn’t argue with it, over years and years and years of knowing percy you had gotten used to it.

and by now, you’d be upset not to see something blue.

you finish stirring the dye into the batter, dropping the spoon against and twirling your wrist to remove the aches.

with one hand around the baby, percy uses his opposite to kiss your wrist.

“I need a baking pan now. please.”

“yes ma’am.”

percy places a kiss to his daughter’s head before retrieving the next item. this time, you scoop the child into your arms. she smiles and begins to pat your face with her tiny hands. you attempt to kiss each of them but she’s swift with her movements.

when percy arrives back, he brushes a hand over the small of your back before moving you to the side with two hands on your hips. you lean your back against the counter and watch as he begins rolling the dough into spheres.

the baby does not like seeing her father preoccupied. she begins to whine in your arms and reach out for him.

“ha! she likes me more. see?”

you scowl and slap his head. “focus on rolling the cookies.”

he smiles, nods, and does as instructed. “anything for my sweet wife.”

you don’t stop the smile forming on your own lips. you roll your eyes and turn your gaze back to the infant in your arms. she had grown content, resting her head on your shoulder. you rub her back in an attempt to soothe her to sleep.

“how many are you making?”

percy shrugs. “I’m winging it.”

you were not surprised. “okay…”

it’s silent for a moment.

“do I have to use… all of this?”

“you’re not eating the batter, perseus.”

“aw.” he continues rolling the dough until the pan is filled. you’re unsure that they’ll all cook properly as they’re so close. but you hope for the best.

as percy sees your arms full of a half-sleeping baby, he puts the cookies in the oven himself. though the mess you would clean later.

slowly, he makes his way back to you. “do you want me to take her?”

you shake your head. “wait until she’s asleep.”

he nods and places a kiss to your forehead. “sit with me at least.”

you’d never pass up on that. carefully, you enter the living room and sit down on the oh-so comfortable couch. percy sits beside you, arm going over the back of the couch behind you.

the baby falls asleep soon after sitting. you know because you’re able to feel the puddle of drool seeping through your shirt.

you turn your head and wipe her chin with your index. “she drools just like you.”

“she doesn’t have any teeth.”

you shrug. “still drooling.”

and still drooling once all her teeth come in. suppose you’d won that argument easily.

༯ “to you, I can’t admit, that I’m just to soft for all of it” - sweet nothing, taylor swift, midnights.

[handlemehyuck]

heartbeat. prequel

situationship donghyuck x female oc. mdni 18+

in the middle of sex with donghyuck, oc’s in her head, having convinced herself this is the last time.

you can’t talk when it’s raining.

for years, you used it as an excuse to avoid uncomfortable conversations until the scene started to look poetic, and you found solace in the raindrops racing down the window, sinking into one another, becoming globs on the glass. you’d take off your glasses and look beyond the nearest sight, admiring the blur of city lights, and thoughts slowed down. the admiration had an effect on you, and it was relieving—the sharp edges of discomfort softened.

you’re watching the rain again, when you’re not watching him, when your eyes aren’t closed, when you catch your breath with your cheek against his shoulder, head turned toward the afternoon storm. he’s saying everything you want to hear. he’s pulling you back in again with every roll of your hips. his lips trace the skin between your breasts. his touch is practiced, reflecting attentiveness, the time he’s spent learning your body, and what you need to reach euphoria.

donghyuck says your name, and you close your eyes again. the sound of rain is in your ears, in between his moans, in between your own. you turn your head to kiss his neck. your lips paint a goodbye across his damp, hot skin. it’s a word you could never tell him out loud, not with his gaze holding yours, not with his warmth radiating onto you, not with his embrace ready to welcome you, too close to choose to lose.

he’s going to cum. donghyuck asks what you need to get there, but you’ve ruined the moment. you’ve pierced your own pleasure with the reality that’s supposed to disappear once you’re in this room, once his cologne overwhelms your senses, once he smiles in your direction, once he summons you closer, once your clothes start to come off, once he says you’re so fucking beautiful—all of this just for me?

you tell him you’re there. you imagine the band tightening in your core and snapping when he sucks a bruise an inch above your nipple. you’ve orgasmed enough times to mimic the sound in this moment, but your back doesn’t arch like it usually does. his hand doesn’t feel the shape against his palm. donghyuck doesn’t feel your teeth graze his collarbone. your toes don’t curl against his sheets. your fingers barely pull his hair. you’re missing pieces—skipping subtleties because you’ve doubted him this entire time, missing the attention he pays to every move you make because he’s in love with you—your uninhibited orgasm electrifies his own, but he says nothing.

when you lay down, with your head on his chest, you watch the window again, feeling him soften inside of you. it’s too soon to leave, too soon to clean up in his bathroom because you feel guilty, because the blissful cloud should shelter you longer. he’ll know if you lift your head, if you let your chin graze his chest so your eyes find his. you love him too much to lie, so you watch the afternoon storm through his bedroom window.

you can’t talk when it’s raining.

[scorpioriesling]

You Belong With Me

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

Pairings: Lucien x reader

Summary: Going between the Autumn, Spring, Night, and Day courts, Lucien had struggled to find a place of belonging. You are his reminder that he does have a place -- and that, would always be with you.

Warnings: some light angst, a little fluff

SR’s Note: All love for sad little Lucey <3 This was a request using prompts #22, #30, and #53 for @hardcoremarvelfan ! Thank you for your patience. Dropping some non-smut to breakup the smut train I've been producing lately, lol. Nonetheless; enjoy!

Tags: @mellowmusings @rcarbo1 @lilah-asteria @kitsunetori @velarisdusk @nctsawrus (inbox me or comment if you'd like to be added!)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

11:52.

That was the time on the wall clock when the front door opened, closing heavily as you listened to the familiar heavy footsteps downstairs.

It was always like this; your mate would come home late, exhausted from the day's work -- but who were you to blame him? Not only was he the Night Court emissary, he also did dealings in his native court of Autumn as well. Not to mention, he'd been seeing his real father more often, though he travelled all the way to the Day Court for that -- only to come back to the Spring Court by the end of the day, longing only to rest his head for a few hours.

You could tell the responsibility was weighing heavily on him.

His footsteps sounded on the stairs, and though you'd just cleaned, you didn't consider chastizing him for wearing his shoes around in the house. After a long, Hellish day -- all you could offer him was comfort. Peace. Whatever he needed to get through an entire night of sleep.

The bedroom door squealed on its hinge as it opened, and you felt the bed dip behind you. Turning over, you met the narrow eyed redhead with a sleepy smile of your own.

"Damned door," he huffed, shucking his clothes off until he was merely in his boxers. "I'll fix it one day. I swear it."

You reached for him, your own sense of longing coming in the form of wishing to comfort your husband.

"You don't have to worry about fixing anything," you mumbled, and he sighed, scootching closer to you. "I'll sleep just as happy beside you whether that door squeaks or not."

A small smile pulled the corner of his mouth upward at that, and you felt a sense of pride at it.

He laid behind you, his chest pressed against your back as his muscles eventually began to relax. He yawned deeply, which pulled one from you as well as he tucked his chin along the dip of your neck. You thread your fingers through his own as his arms wrapped around you, holding you close.

Slowly, sleep overtook you.

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

The lights were bright in the grand ballroom of the Autumn Palace, the crystals on the chandeliers near blinding as they glittered overhead. Their warm glow gast a golden sheen across the room; champagne flutes, women's jewelry, masquerade masks and all -- they all glittered in the ambiance.

You'd attended as a favor to your cousin, who was unable to make it to the celebration this evening. You hadn't minded, though -- the Spring Court balls were lovely, but you'd never been to the Autumn Court before. Tamlin had other business to attend to, so he instead requested you go in his place, accompanied by his best friend, of course.

"I can see you undressing me with your eyes."

Your gaze zeroed in on the fox mask before you, and you chuckled.

"I bet not; you can barely see anything through this thing."

Lucien laughed, reaching out a hand to brush his thumb across the edge of the golden fawn mask you bore. Your breath caught in your throat; Lucien was handsome, yes, but in a devastating way. A way that you didn't see in other males, a way that speared any hope in your chest that-

"Well, I can see enough to know that you are eyeing me, Fawn." His nickname sent a rush through you, one he'd been using for years that never got old.

"Maybe it's because I find foxes to be so, damn, attractive." You winked, despite the blush on your cheeks. The orchestra ascended in the background, and pairs were making their way into a neat circle around you. Your longtime friend held out his hand.

"May I have this dance?"

You grinned, taking his hand as he led you to the outer edge of the circle. It felt good, having stability when you knew no one at this gathering. You'd known Lucien for, Gods, forever it seemed -- so, when his hand slid to your waist, it wasn't anything out of the ordinary.

Well... not really, anyways.

The butterflies in your stomach, however... those were a little out of the ordinary.

You followed his lead, keeping in time with his steps as your bodies hovered close to one another. The upsweep in tempo from the band propelled you on, faster and faster with each step. Lucien gazed down at you, though his expression was foreign.

"W-what?" You asked, dropping his hand and bringing it to your mouth. "Is there something on my face?"

He smiled quietly, his eyes boring into yours even through the small holes in his mask.

"Only your stunning features." He replied, his breaths coming out softer as he held you closer to his chest. Your cheeks pinkened again, and he leaned in closer to your ear.

"Thank you for acompanying me tonight." He whispered, and you rubbed a comforting hand on his shoulder where you'd held onto him.

"Oh, it was n-nothing," you stuttered embarassingly, shrugging to play it off. "Any favor for Tamlin is-"

"No, I mean seriously." He said, drawing back to gaze into your eyes once more. "Even though I'm on good terms now with my family," he choked on the last word. "...it's still awkward to parade around this place. I don't really belong here."

It'd been a year since Under the Mountain, and only a few months since Beron's death. Sure, him and his brothers were on speaking terms again, but this was his family.

Your heart clenched.

"Lucien... you do belong here, this," you waved a hand at the room around you. "This is where you're from; this very well could be where you truly belong." The lights dimmed, and the music tapered off as the sensuality of the room increased. You hadn't noticed; all you could focus on was Lucien, standing before you, his gaze squarely on you.

"To be honest, I don't think I really belong anywhere," he huffed a laugh, and your eyes watered. "Hell, Tamlin owns a gorgeous estate, but... I'm not Spring Court by blood."

"Lucien-"

He sighs, draping your hand over his opposite shoulder as he slides both hands around the small of your back.

"Really, I only feel a sense of belonging when I'm with you."

Your eyes widen, your heart threatening to explode -- you stare up at him, watching as his gaze flickers to your mouth.

Pressing up onot your tiptoes, you pull him as close as you can get him, before your lips touch his for the very first time.

Little had either of you known, it would not be the last.

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

You rose early that morning, silently untangling yourself from your mate's grasp before sliding out of bed. You stretched, basking in the morning light as pleasant, soft memories floated through your mind.

Lucien's hand holding yours as you moved about the ballroom.

Your first kiss, how soft and gentle it'd been.

You practically hummed as you stepped down the hallway, the remnants of your dream clinging to your mind like sticky honey.

"Thank you for acompanying me tonight."

How his silken hair glinted under the lights.

You twirled around the kitchen, putting a kettle on for morning tea and preparing toast for the two of you.

"To be honest, I don't think I really belong anywhere."

That particular part of the dream brought you to a halt, your hand still pressing down on the toaster lever. Your heart squeezed, as it did before -- how horrible a feeling, especially for someone as wonderful as Lucien to experience.

Your brows knit as sadness overcame you.

"Really, I only feel a sense of belonging when I'm with you."

That bit swelled your heart only a little, selfish as it was. You adored your husband, and was grateful to the Mother and all things holy that he truly wanted to accept the mating bond; but him not feeling as though he belonged any place?

"Overthinking again are we, fawn?"

Your gaze lifted, reaching that of Lucien's heterochrome eyes. He leaned in the kitchen doorway, still shirtless but now in comfortable pants, at least.

You sighed, your attention turning to the toast as it jumped over the rim of the toaster.

"Noooo," you drawled, taking it out with nimble fingers as to not scald yourself. The kettle began to steam, and when you turned, your mate had already lifted it from the burner.

"You forget we share this," he motioned to his temple, and you rolled your eyes. "Lovely dream you had last night though."

His arms wrapped around your torso as you spread butter on the bread, and your breath hitched. Warmth flooded the bond, bringing a little smile to your face.

"I remember it as though it were yesterday," you offered him your teary smile, and he pulled away, his hand catching your wrist as he did.

"Lucien," you huffed, setting down the butter knife as you followed him to the middle of your small shared kitchen. He drew you close, his one hand on your lower back, the other holding your own.

"Dance with me?"

You grinned, following as he stepped shortly around the room. His chin rested atop your head as you swayed together, and he pressed a small kiss to your forehead.

"I should be the one comforting you right now," you said quietly, your cheek pressed against his bare chest. "After the week you've had-"

His fingers threaded through your locks, brushing them in a soft, tender way before he spoke again.

"My darling, you are my comfort." He stated, and a small, emotinoal tear escaped over your waterline. "If I could, I'd stay right here forever with you doing just this."

Emotion clogged your throat as you reflected on everything the two of you had been through. Under the Mountain, the Spring COurt demise, Beron's death, the Hybern War, his promotion to Night Court emissary and learning of his father...

You tilted your chin up as one of his hands caressed your cheek. He kissed you, like he had all that time ago; gentle, sweet, perfect.

"You are my real home, Y/N. This," he looked between the two of you, smiling when his eyes met yours again.

"This is exactly where I belong. With you."

✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ: *

[mossangelll]

is that hyperpigmentation?

arcane characters x reader

basically what the title says, you draw the arcane characters à la hyperpigmentation 😍 i needed smth silly to work on to get me out of my writing rut, hope you enjoy :p

content: gn!reader, reader is their partner (could be seen as platonic/child reader but i think most of, if not all, the hcs allude or explicitly call reader their partner - sorry!)

Jinx

she LOVES it

as an artist, engineer, overall creator she can really appreciate the more wacky expressions of art

she does a whole art critique (barely a critique tbh) and pretends to be some stuffy piltie talking about the genius and emotion behind the artwork

“ya know, toots, i’m reaaallyyyy enjoying what ya did with that…um, splodge? on my face there. yeah!”

she draws her own version but this time it’s a portrait of you

you swap them and have a cute little date where you colour the pictures in together and add details in the background

by the end, jinx’s workshop is covered in glue and glitter and paint and powder and also for some reason silly string

jinx even makes frames from scratch so they can be hung up - they’re probably the most nicely presentee decoration she has in her place

Ekko

you slide the portrait of him over to his side of the table in silence

he looks down absently and has to do a double take

“this is…me?” he asks hesitantly with his eyes widened like a deer in headlights; a look you rarely ever see from him - you nod and confirm his fears

“we have one tree down here. paper’s expensive. remember that.”

walks away and goes about his duties helping the firelights and though you suspect he might be upset, he did take the picture with him

feels so guilty about his reaction he almost sacks himself into a wall as he rides his hover board

later that night he apologises and makes a show of sticking the picture on his bedroom wall (in the corner he can barely see of course)

Vi

she’s been in prison and seen some interesting tattoos but this takes the cake

spends a good ten minutes staring at it whilst rubbing her chin as if that’s gonna make it look better

asks you if this was the rough draft

she’s smooth though so she basically tells you she hates it but in a way that you don’t even realise - you’re too busy being seduced to notice

“i love how wild your imagination is babe 😍”

vi keeps the picture and shows jinx; needless to say, this portrait becomes famous

kids all through the lanes have a challenge where they find all the weird faces jinx spray painted everywhere

vi pretends to act dumb as if she doesn’t know how jinx got ahold of them but you both know what happened LMAO

Caitlyn

she laughs in your face

she probably just had an argument with her mum over being an enforcer so she really needed this to lighten her spirits

teases you over it but accepts it gracefully because she’s a kiramman and those manners have been engrained into her

keeps it in her room as a joke and everything’s seemingly ok

except she can’t stop looking at it

and then looking at her reflection in the mirror

starts to question reality because she knows there’s no way she looks like that but if so, why would you draw it in the first place 😭

then she enters the mad stage and she confronts you about this thing called negging she discovered

it’s a loooooong night but don’t worry it ends in lots of laughter and giggles

she understands it wasn’t serious and was just projecting her stress onto the picture

but then this starts a new tradition where you two draw daily doodles of each other; sometimes with stupid faces, other times as animals, whatever you two are feeling really

Mel

the woman was too stunned to speak

no, she’s literally speechless for a good minute or two as you hold it out for her

she eventually takes the portrait from your hands but does it in a way where you’d think it was going to explode the second she touches it

she tries her best to smile and be graceful about it, years of etiquette training being tested but even this is a bit excessive

she finds a way to dodge actually having to tell you it looks bad but also dodges telling you that it looks good too - she’s a lot of things but she’s not a liar 😭

she’s incredibly diplomatic

the very next day she’s introducing you to an absolutely fabulous painter who just happened to make an impromptu visit but has just enough time to run a session (or multiple) with you!

how serendipitous is this!

never again will she receive a portrait from you like hyperpigmentation

Jayce

“oh wow this is for me?”

you handed this to him in the busy academy building in front of SOOO many people and now his face is red

his teeth are gritted, hand rubbing the back of his neck and if you look closely there’s even beads of sweat dripping down his forehead

you’ve got this man stressed out

takes like 20 minutes trying to tell you that he’s not too sure if this is exactly his style

internally he’s crying for help because he just wants to get out of this situation

he loves you don’t get it wrong but this has never happened to him before and it’s not like they’ve got a guidebook on this stuff

eventually admits defeat and accepts the portrait

it’s probably in the break room and although he isn’t particularly fond of it, he won’t stand for anyone saying mean things about what you made

that is until you tell him it was all a joke in the first place and you never thought he would actually accept it considering how shitty it was

yeah, he allowed everyone a ten minute free for all where they could slander the picture after that

he is gonna give you silent treatment for all of an hour before he can’t stand it anymore and he asks you not to pull pranks like that on him again with tears in his eyes 😭

Viktor

viktor is chronically ill AND chronically overworked

gonna be real, he sees the portrait and doesn’t even think anything of it

like, he’s so sleep deprived that he’s constantly squinting and so to him, it low-key looks like him

you even got his beauty mark right too! most people forget that detail!

it’s only after a good few weeks of having the picture on his bedside table and actually, finally, getting eight hours of sleep that he properly looks at the picture and

who the fuck is that

but at this point it’s too late, it’s already in a frame next to the bed you two share and there’s no way he can discretely get rid of it without you noticing

stages an accident where his cane “accidentally” happens to slip and somehow punt the picture frame right out the window with surprising accuracy

he gives you those puppy dog eyes and tells you how sad he is but that he’ll survive so don’t worry!

can’t even feel guilty about the situation because the moment the portrait is gone he stops having nightmares

Silco

another one who is speechless

if you were anyone else, he would’ve berated you so badly you would want to quit by the end of it

unfortunately you’re someone he loves so he’s stuck between a rock and a hard place

the thing is, he really does appreciate that you went through the effort of drawing a picture of him since it reminds him that perhaps his love isn’t as one-sided as he fears

so he really does want to have it framed and put up on his desk so he can stare at it whenever he misses you

the problem is that even though one of his eyes is fucked up he can still see how butt ugly the drawing is

plus the fact that if he has meetings his business associates are gonna see it and that’s gonna be a tough one to explain

rather not lose out of business because his partner decided to be picasso for a day

silco ends up compromising by having you draw a teeny tiny version he keeps in his wallet instead :3

the bigger version stays in a locked compartment of his desk drawer, he doesn’t want to risk sevika seeing it

Vander

vander does NOT care what it looks like, he loves it

you could literally scribble on a page, say “that’s you” and he’s tearing up at your thoughtfulness

it’s going on the fridge asap and it’s staying there too

he’s gonna show it to everyone with such pride in his voice

sure, he doesn’t know exactly what he’s looking at and maybe you drew his body hair a bit liberally but you made it so that’s good enough for him!

when he shows it off, most people say aww what a cute werewolf and ask how old his kid is

the light leaves their eyes when he tells them, chest puffed out, that his fully grown adult partner did it and that it’s actually a portrait of him

whether you made it as a joke or not, expect all of your friends, your friend’s friends, those friend’s friend’s friends…everyone to have seen it

Sevika

sevika tells you it’s ugly straight away <\3

rolls her eyes as she listens to you explain all the reasons why she should like the drawing

she does nawt care

wants to act unbothered but deep down she’s a bit insulted

however she doesn’t like sein you upset so she kisses you to distract you from the fact she hates the drawing

sevika is an incredibly considerate partner so now she knows you like art, she takes it upon herself to buy colouring books and art journals that you two can fill out together

this is how you find out she’s a god at drawing and you find it sweet how she takes you under her wing

if something’s bad she’ll tell you but it will always be constructive criticism and before you know it your portraits actually look decent

she’s smug knowing she helped you get to that point

little do you know she kept your abhorrent portrait of her and she looks at it every so often to see how far you’ve come

she’s a softie deep down

AU!mylo

he says he likes it but that’s just because he wants to hit

also is a bit pretentious so you could hand him a really bad painting and he’ll try and act like he “gets it” even if there’s nothing to get 😭

this WILL make him doubt his looks constantly

he’s confident for sure, more than he should be at times, but now he’s got that image in the back of his head

aura down and now he’s even WORSE at flirting god save this man

will go around asking random people if he looks like the guy in the portrait because he’s not going down without a fight

he needs to beat the allegations one way or another‼️

AU!claggor

genuinely too nice to decline it or say it looks bad

doesn’t know what exactly it’s meant to be even though you already said it’s a portrait of him

too focused on his plants to worry about it too much, it’s just something that makes him chuckle every now and then

he will conduct a mini interview on why you made it look the way it did

he looks all serious as he nods at your answers

deep down he just wants to understand how your brain works

masterlist

[sp00kygh0sty]

What if Eddie accidently conditioned Steve to get hard everytime he puts up his hair.

He usually leaves his hair down when they fuck but always puts it up when he sucks Steve off. He'll get on his knees and then tie up his hair after he choked on his own hair when getting him off one time.

So now no matter where they are or what they're doing Steve gets half chubbed when Eddie puts his hair up and it gets very inconvenient.

They start dating in the fall, so it's awhule until Steve's holding pool parties again. During the first one of the summer Steve's grilling as everyone else gets ready to get in the pool, and of course he happens to look up at Eddie pulls his hair into a bun and Steve doesn't leave from behind the grill for at least half an hour until he's able to calm down.

Another time him and Eddie are helping to fix Waynecs truck, or more like Wayne is sitting on the porch and watching them fix it, complaining that it was to hot for an old man like him to be in the beating sun. Steve might know a lot about cars, but not a lot about fixing them, so he's more handing Eddie tools as needed. When the other stands up from the engine and asks for a hair tie Steve doesn't think twice as he pulls one off his wrist that he keeps for really anyone who needs them. Though he regrets it immediately as Eddie ties his hair up and he had to excuse himself to the bathroom and basically sprints inside.

And of course one time Robin had to be there. Eddie had dropped Steve off at work that day so he spent most of the day going between Family Video and the arcade. It was fine, until Eddie came in, complaing about the heat as he pulled his hair back. Steve tried to excuse himself but Robin hit him, saying something about how there was no way that she was staying up front by herself. That was until she noticed the way Steve's face was lighting up bright red, she got a disguested look on her face and pushed him towards the break room and Eddie looked absolutely confused.

The thing is that it doesn't happen if Eddie's hair is already up, only when he watches him tie it back.

Eddie doesn't realize it's happenings until they're stuck in a too hot doctors appointment waiting for Eddie's appointment. Just the usual monthly checkups they've been having since Vecna. So of course he wants to pull his hair up, but when he asks Steve for a hair tie, since he always manages to misplace them, Steve says no. His face immediately starts flushing because he knows how his body is going to react and Eddie gets the most cocky smile on his face as he grabs Steve's hand. He manages to pull the hair tie off before Steve can rip his hand away, and his suspicions are confirmed once he ties his hair up.

After that Eddie uses it just to fuck with him, even without a hair tie he'll pull his hair back and wrap a hand around the messy bundle like he does and tries not to smirk or laugh when the other is quickly trying to find an excuse to leave.