#I swallowed my pride and looked up where I had to go after giving up months ago bc I was getting frustrated scouring the whole map

[verstappenverse]

Not Over Yet

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: In the heat of a painful argument, you declare that your relationship with Max is over, leaving him desperate to hold on.

1.3k words / Masterlist

The deafening silence of the Monaco apartment was suffocating. The echoes of the fight still rang in the air long after the words had been spoken. Max sat on the edge of the couch, his fingers gripping the fabric so hard his knuckles were white. You stood across the room arms wrapped tightly around yourself, as if trying to hold everything together.

“We’re over, Max.” The words hung heavy in the room, each one feeling like a stone dropped into a deep well.

He looked up, his blue eyes wide with shock and disbelief. “What?” His voice was low, barely above a whisper, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard.

You turned away from him, unable to face the hurt in his eyes. The hurt that mirrored your own. “I said, we’re done. I can’t—” You struggled to keep your voice steady. “I can’t keep doing this.”

The argument had started hours ago—something small, something insignificant that had spiralled out of control like it always did these days. The never-ending travel, the constant pressure. You knew what you were signing up for when you fell for him, but lately, it felt like everything else in your life had taken a backseat. There were always missed dinners, cancelled plans, and nights where you felt like the third wheel to his love affair with the track.

Max’s eyes hardened for a moment, his pride kicking in as he stood up and paced the length of the living room. “You think I don’t give enough to this relationship?” He snapped, his voice rising. “I work my ass off every day, trying to make sure we have everything. I’m always thinking of you, even when I’m on the track. I—”

“It’s not about the money or the success, Max!” you interrupted, your voice breaking. “It’s about us. About how I feel like I’m always second to everything else in your life. Like I’m not as important.”

Max stopped in his tracks, his back to you as he exhaled sharply. He raked a hand through his tousled hair, trying to calm his emotions. “That’s not fair,” he muttered, his voice quieter now, but still laced with frustration.

You swallowed the lump in your throat, feeling the tears threatening to spill over. “What’s not fair is me feeling alone when you’re standing right next to me.”

He turned to face you, the anger in his eyes replaced with something softer. But it was too late. You couldn’t bear to look at him any longer. The weight of your decision pressed down on your chest, and you took a deep breath before you spoke again.

“We’re over,” you whispered. The finality in your voice made it feel real. “We have to be.”

Max’s face went pale. He took a step toward you, but stopped himself his hands twitching at his sides. He looked at you, really looked at you, for what felt like the first time in weeks. “You…you don’t mean that.”

“I do.” You choked on the words as soon as they left your lips. You didn’t mean it. Not really. But you couldn’t keep living in the shadows, couldn’t keep pretending like everything was fine when it wasn’t.

Max’s heart hammered in his chest the fear of losing you clawing at his throat. He had faced impossible races, gut-wrenching crashes, the pressure of the world’s expectations—but nothing compared to the panic that gripped him now. The thought of losing you of truly being without you, was something he couldn’t handle.

He shook his head slowly, refusing to accept what you were saying. “No. No, we’re not over.”

You blinked back the tears, confused by the certainty in his voice. “Max, you can’t just—”

“I’m not letting you go,” he interrupted, his voice firm but low, almost pleading. “I know I’ve been…distracted. I know I haven’t been there the way I should. But you don’t get to decide we’re done. You can’t just give up on us. Not like this.”

His words hung in the air, and for a moment, neither of you moved. The apartment felt too small, too full of emotions that neither of you could control.

You felt your defences crumbling, your heart aching at the sincerity in his voice. But the hurt was still too raw. “It’s not that simple, Max.”

Max closed the distance between you in a few quick strides, his hands coming up to gently cup your face, forcing you to look at him. His touch was warm grounding you in a way only he could.

“Listen to me,” he said, his voice softer now, desperate. “I know I’ve made mistakes. But I love you. You. You’re not second to anything. You never were. I’m an idiot for making you feel that way, but please…please don’t give up on us.”

You wanted to believe him, wanted to let the walls you had built around your heart crumble. But the fear was still there—the fear that things wouldn’t change, that this would be your life forever, always wondering if you were enough.

Max’s thumb gently brushed away a tear that had slipped down your cheek, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hope. “I can’t lose you,” he whispered, his voice cracking just slightly. It was rare to see Max like this, so raw, so open.

You closed your eyes trying to steady your breathing, trying to find the words to say. “Max, I just… I don’t know if I can keep going like this.”

He pulled you closer his forehead resting against yours as he took a deep, shaky breath. “Then tell me what to do. Tell me how to fix it. I’ll do anything.”

His words were sincere, and you could feel the desperation in his voice. It wasn’t like Max to beg, to be so vulnerable, and it only made your resolve weaken further.

“I don’t want us to be over,” you finally admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “But I don’t want to feel like I’m always competing for your attention either.”

Max pulled back slightly, his hands still gently holding your face as he looked into your eyes. “You’re not competing. I love racing, but I love you so much more. There’s no competition.”

It was the first time he had ever said it so clearly, so bluntly and it took your breath away.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I forgot about what really matters. You. Us. I swear to you, I’ll do better. I’ll make time for us.”

His sincerity was undeniable, and for the first time in a long time you felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe things could change. Maybe you could find a way to make it work.

You let out a shaky breath, leaning into his touch. “I don’t want to lose you either Max.”

Relief washed over his face and he pulled you into a tight embrace, holding you like he was afraid you might slip away if he let go. “You won’t. I promise you won’t.”

For a long moment you stayed there, wrapped in each other’s arms the weight of the fight slowly lifting as you both began to breathe a little easier. The future was still uncertain, and there would be more challenges ahead, but for now you were both willing to try.

And for the first time in a long time, it felt like the two of you were on the same team.

Max pulled back slightly, his lips brushing against your forehead. “We’re not over,” he said softly, as if he needed to hear it out loud.

You nodded, resting your head against his chest listening to the steady beat of his heart. “We’re not over.”

[lexicals]

I have such a love hate relationship w subnautica at this point like it's such a good game and I do adore it but every time I get to somewhere only to realise I'm missing something I need and have to backtrack 10 mins for materials I feel such rage and despair

[heartless-tate]

Notice me! | Azriel X Freader

summary; Azriel courting an oblivious reader.

a/n; Heyy! Just a little fic of being courted by Azriel. And you not being very aware of it. Hope you enjoy!

content/trigger warnings; knife, food, meat?, cussing, kissing, no use y/n, hint towards lust feeling, Azriel pining, Armen being sassy, FEM reader (if you’d like me to make a another post with male reader, message me!) she/her pronouns for reader, thunderstorm mention and I think that’s it. If I missed something, feel free to message me on it! 💝

word count: 3.1k. |. Part two

A plate clattered against the table causing your attention to turn to the man in front of you.

You met his gaze as he waited for you to try his new dish, his eyes seeming to shine as the sun hit his eyes. You swear he always seemed to be effortlessly beautiful. It was angering in some ways, you had even seen him wake up looking like a god. No. Better than a god. It didn’t matter if you spent an hour in the mirror, swiping various products of different expenses on your face; the result would be the same. The same boring face you saw everyday.

A wonderful smell wafted from the plate, causing your empty stomach to growl loud enough to shake the mountains. The shadowsinger smirked, pushing the plate of food closer to you with a gentleness most men didn’t have. Your face flushed with embarrassment, your hands instinctively coming to paw at your stomach, hoping it would stop. Your eyes wandered down to the plate where a meal sat.

“I haven’t made this before. I wanted you to be the first to try it.” He spoke with every ounce of grace and elegance a god would have. His hands grasped the seat across from you, pulling it out and taking a seat. His wings shifted until finding a comfortable position in the chair. You nodded in response, picking the fork up before taking in the rather- gracious portion of food he had made for you.

A ribeye steak bigger than your hand sat on the plate. Seasoning of different kinds were smothered on it, and the smell of butter consumed your senses. Your mouth watered in response. Beside it were two sides. Your favorites.

Armen smirked from where she sat beside you, watching as you lifted the steak knife and fork. You were so oblivious. She had been watching for the last few years as Azriel desperately chased after you, and you never seemed to even notice. It was amusing. He has spent hours staring at you, and you never realized. And if she pointed it out, you just assumed you had something on your face. She knew he was growing restless. Not tired of you, but tired of your complete oblivion. These days he seemed ready to scream from the top of the roof that he loved you.

Azriel’s scarred hand clutched at your wrist. He gently took the knife and fork away from you, before grabbing your plate and proceeding to cut your steak into bite sized pieces. Armen snickered from where she sat, resulting in a glare from Azriel.

“Oh- Azriel I can do that-“ You started.

“I know you can.” He responded. He didn’t give back your plate until your steak was cut into bite sized pieces for you. He watched you place the first bite of steak into your mouth.

Your eyes rolled back and you let out a hum of approval, chewing the food. The flavor was delicious, and it was quite easily the best steak you had ever tasted in your life. It wasn’t too buttery. Or too seasoned. It was just right. The meat was tender.

Azriel’s wings rustled at your hum. His face shined with pure male pride. His eyes never left you once while you chewed and swallowed. He stood, taking the steak knife that was no longer needed into the kitchen.

Armen followed after him. He sat the knife in the sink, letting the house do its magic before turning his attention to Armen.

“You’re like a love sick puppy.”

“My love life isn’t your business.” Azriel responded, his face tight. His words were low, ensuring you couldn’t hear.

“Hm. All I’m saying is your ‘courting’ isn’t going to work.” Armen said, picking at her nail leisurely. She was like a cat. Her piercing eyes watched as Azriel’s eyes narrowed at her with a scowl. Before he could comment more, Armen spoke again.

“She’s oblivious. It doesn’t matter if you fix her food, or leave her favorite pastries everywhere so she finds them, she won’t get the hint. Literally. I’m getting seasonal allergies from the amount of flowers you’ve left for her everywhere in this house.Seriously, this place is covered in flowers. Either start professing love or drop this little crush.” She growled out, walking out of the kitchen.

Azriel stayed silent before whispering,“It’s not little.”

“Yeah, don’t let me forget to grab a few early starfall gifts.” Mor said. You groaned loudly, rubbing your temples. Even the idea of her gifts made you want to cry. Her starfall gift for you these past few years have been a collection of ridiculously fuzzy socks. Every.Year.

Of course you were grateful, but everyone knew Mor’s gifts weren’t particularly good. You now had a drawer filled with fuzzy and odd colored socks.

Velaris was bustling today. Fae of all kids roamed the streets, some tending to their shops. Kids ran through the streets playing games. Everyone was out enjoying the sunny day. You and Mor decided to go shopping to pick up a few items. Your eyes wandered back down to your list, a few more candles, a book or two, and some lotion.

“Starfall gifts? I don’t think you need to shop this early for them-“

“Nonsense! It’s never too early to do gift shopping!” Mor said, cutting you off. You sighed and shook your head knowing it was hopeless to argue with her.

After a few trips to some stores, you both ended up getting lunch at Rita’s. You ordered a milkshake- apparently a new creation of a cold drink? None less, whatever they were, everyone had been going crazy over them in Velaris. And of course you also got your favorite meal. Mor ordered practically half the menu, content to eat her heart out. You didn’t blame her- food was good.

As your plates were sat down by the waitress, Mor eyed your food with a questioning look. Your eyebrows raised in confusion. “What? You’re looking at my food weird.”

“Oh. Well I’m just surprised to see you ordering a meal here. You know Azriel is gonna harp if you don’t eat his food.” Mor responded, shoveling food into her mouth as if she’d starve.

“Huh?” You countered.

Mor finished her food before rolling her eyes. She sighed deeply as if you had troubled her. “You know..” she said, waving her hands as if that would solve your confusion. When you raised your eyebrows with a puzzled face, she put her fork down.

“You know- when you eat something someone else cooked or you’re not hungry, and he’s cooked you a meal. And you refuse it- he gets all huffy and puffy! Like a broody motherhen.” She continued.

“He doesn’t even fix me food that often-“ you argued.

“Oh please! Breakfast, lunch, and dinner! Full course meal on the table for you. If only someone loved me that much.” Mor said, picking her fork back up. “Those meals weren’t from the house hun. All I’m saying is maybe you should pay more attention.”

For the rest of the meal, you both sat in silence as you pondered over her words.

Cassian laughed  as you entered from the hallway. His eyes shined with amusement as you waddled to the counter with your shopping bags.

The sound was enough to draw a curious Azriel to the room. He immediately grabbed all your bags despite your complaints, setting them on the table. He nodded at you in response when you thanked him.

“I thought you were only shopping for a few things.” Cassian stated. He stood casually leaned against the table with a drink in his left hand. Azriel stood to your left, his wings expanded. His eyes were keen and watchful. You doubted he ever missed a single detail. His skin glistened with sweat, a musky bourbon scent coming from him. Cassian’s skin was sweaty too, evidence of them training together earlier in the day.

“Well, the candle store had a buy two get five for free deal. So I bought  four and got ten for free! Cauldron I love Velaris!” You squealed, and Azriel smirked knowingly. He had taken note of your recent obsession with buying candles. Cassian shook his head.

Cassian's face lit up with surprise as you handed him two candles. “So I got one for everyone else. This one smells like leather and the other vanilla. I figured you’d like it Cas.” You continued. He nodded in thanks. You turned to Azriel.

“I got you this candle because I know you love blueberries. And this one is supposed to smell like rainy days and lightning. And this one is books and bourbon!”

Azriel’s eyes never looked down to the candles you had shoved in his arms. His eyes stayed on your face as you happily ranted about the candles. When you finished and looked back up to his face, he had a soft look. It was one you don’t think you’ve seen him use before. His eyes were soft and looked like pools of honey, and his smile was gentle.

You watched as he sat down the candles on the table and turned back to you. “They’re perfect.” He responded. He was so memorizing. You just knew whoever he ended up with would be content. You struggled taking your eyes from him.Cassian growled playfully.

“Hey! Unfair! He got three candles! I only got-“

Cassian was cut off by Mor smacking him on the back of the head as she trotted to the kitchen. She had a lot of leftovers to put away. Azriel gave him a quick glare, silencing him.

You noticed he was wearing all his leathers, and siphons. His shadows whirled leisurely around his shoulders and wings. Azriel watched as your eyes creased in confusion. He sighed. He couldn’t help but feel a shimmer of hope at the fact you had gotten him more candles than Cassian.

“Rhysand sent me on a mission, I’ll be gone for a few days most likely. I’m going to spy on the human queens and make sure all is well there.” He admitted. He watched as your face fell. You quickly smiled again and nodded. His heart thumped like a hammer in his chest. Did you care? Would you miss him like he always missed you? He wondered if you couldn’t sleep like he couldn’t when he was away from you.

“Oh. I see. Be safe.” You responded, nodding slowly. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion at the feeling in your chest. You had never felt it before. You wondered why all of a sudden you felt this way about him leaving.

His eyes softened even more. “I leave in an hour or two.” He whispered, head tilting to catch your eyes once more. Cassian had disappeared from the room all of a sudden, him and Mor talking loudly about dumb things in the kitchen. Leaving you and Azriel alone. “Let me cook you dinner before I leave.”

His eyebrows furrowed this time as you shook your head no. His smile dropped. He looked like a kicked puppy almost-

“I ate lunch with Mor.” You explained. Your explanation didn’t seem to comfort him as he shook his head in response.

“That was lunch. It’s time for dinner.” Azriel said firmly.

Your mind went back to Mor’s words. Pay more attention…what did she mean? What was there to pay attention to? Azriel cooked for everyone- right..? Your mind raced over your memories, trying to think of a single time you had seen Azriel set a plate down for one of the others.

“Alright then, fix me dinner Azriel.” You responded. Azriel smiled, pleased. His right wing flared, draping over your back. “Follow me.” He said, leading the way into the kitchen. His wing was warm against your back, as it guided you beside him. It was much larger than  you were, towering over your head. As you entered the kitchen, Cassian and Mor immediately scampered out shouting something about extra training.

You watched Azriel move around the kitchen in a graceful dance of grabbing pans and pots. He kept his wings tucked in, to keep them from banging against counters and tables. His hair was messy from training, or like he had ran his hands through it more then once. But it never failed to frame his face. You watched as a few shadows dart around, grabbing various spices and ingredients for whatever new dish he’d make tonight. He set a pan down on the stove before turning to you.

His scarred hands gently grasped your hips, lifting you up effortlessly. He sat you on an empty space on the counter. He huffed a laugh at your squeak of shock. He patted one of your thighs gently before leaving your side and returning to his pan.

Your face flushed with embarrassment. He had lifted you as if you weighed nothing, showcasing his obvious strength. Everytime he touched you with his beautiful hands, it felt like everything stopped. As if the world had slowed to let you enjoy the moment. Your hands wrapped around your stomach, wondering what this weird feeling that had overcome you meant.

He moved swiftly, chopping ingredients and throwing things in various pots and pans. You quickly realized by smell alone he was making your comfort food. You remembered the night a storm had rolled in. Usually thunder and lightning didn’t scare you- but this was different. The booms and flashes were intense, shaking the ground and keeping you from sleep. You had stumbled to the house library in an attempt to distract yourself. But you only found Azriel instead. He had scented your obvious distress and took action immediately. He helped you settle on the couch with cushions and blankets before asking what a comfort food was. A good 15 minutes later he returned with a plate.

You don’t remember much pass that, you just remember becoming tired and sleepily. You remember feeling warm all of a sudden and then you woke up in your bed that morning.

“It’s almost done.” Azriel spoke, bringing you back from your memories. His eyes were distant as if he too was remembering that same night.

You smiled and thanked him as he handed you your bowl and a spoon. He made himself a bowl too. He took your bowl from his hands and sat it down, before grabbing you and setting you back on the floor. His hands stayed on your hips until he was sure you were balanced. He guided you to the sitting room with a fire.

Azriel didn’t eat until you took your first bite, ensuring you liked it. And of course, you did. It was warm, and comforting, like a hug in your mouth. It soothed your soul in ways nothing else could, the flavors easing your body from any previous aches. Azriel had never made a bad meal before. You both ate in silence together, with the comforting crackle of the fire and warming food. But as the time passed, you knew it came time for him to leave.

Your bowls sat on the coffee table. Both finished. The house made them disappear, taking care of them on its own. You were always amazed by its magic.

Your head snapped to Azriel as he stood. He sighed, looking at the clock on the wall. His eyebrows were furrowed and he almost looked like he wanted to chain himself to the wall before even considering leaving. He turned to your sitting form. His shadows seemed to move more quickly and sharper around his shoulders.

“It’s time for me to leave.” He whispered. He watched as you nodded solemnly. You smiled, but he knew it didn’t reach your eyes.

“Thank you for the meal.”

You watched as Cassian hugged Azriel in goodbye, and Mor nod as her own way of saying goodbye. Azriel had taken his candles to his room earlier, before joining everyone in the hallway. When one left for more then a day, you all said proper goodbyes.

Azriel turned to you, walking swiftly. His arms wrapped around you tightly, his big biceps practically squeezing the life out of you. He practically had to hold himself back from purring when your arms wrapped around his neck in return. Everything darkened as his wings cocooned you. His wings blocked out the noises of the others, leaving just you and him. His head found solace in your neck. His scent overwhelmed your senses in a good way. Before you had time to question Azriel being touchy, Cassian yelled,

“Ok! Ok! We get it, Azriel. Let go of her before you suffocate her.”

Azriel lifted his head, and his wings dropped. His eyes stayed latched on yours. A few seconds passed before he tore his eyes away and scowled at Cassian. His teeth bared in silent warning. Cassian backed down and turned to have conversation with the others. Azriel released you from his grip.

“I’ll be back soon. Don’t starve. And I left some flowers on your nightstand. I hope you don’t mind.” He whispered to you, fiddling with his hands like a nervous school boy. Your eyes lit up and you smiled gently.

“Thank you Azriel. Goodbye.” You whispered back in response. His smile turned upside down.

“I told you, call me Az. Or whatever you want- just not my full name. We’re closer than that.” He said in a growl like tone. He watched as you nodded your head.

It was time for him to leave now. He sighed deeply. The others had gone silent watching the scene with interest. But he didn’t seem to care.

He leaned down to your height, his hands grasping at your chin. He turned your head before leaving a gentle but firm kiss on the side of your cheek. “Sleep well tonight.” He whispered before pulling away. You stood in shock at the door to the balcony, as he said his last goodbyes. He waved in an almost shy way at you before taking flight.

You stood still, flabbergasted at what had happened. Slowly your hand rose to your cheek.

Realization dawned on you- he hadn’t ever fixed food for anyone else other than you.

a/n; hope you enjoyed, let me know if you want part two! 🌙

[ddejavvu]

can I request one with Spencer Reid based on the season 4 club scene??? He's there with Morgan and stares at the reader and Morgan shows him how to approach her but the reader doesn't fall for Morgan's approach, then Reid gives it a try and she turns into a giggly blushing mess at how cute he is and his weird facts!! Idk something fluffy??

reader is slightly mean to morgan in this one and i'm so sorry to have dissed the love of my life </333

--

"Don't bother," Morgan catches Spencer's shoulder when the man looks like he's about to give you their 'have you seen this man?' spiel. "I tried to tell her about the unsub, but she's not very impressed by men cornering her in the club. We don't have to worry about her, she won't fall for his bullshit."

"She should know, though." Spencer frowns, watching as you stare lazily at your drink, watching condensation drip down the glass, "I'll tell her."

"Reid, I'm telling you, she's not a potential victim," Morgan squeezes his shoulder, "Listen, if I couldn't get her to talk to me, there's no way the creep we're looking for could win her over. And he's not gonna waste his time on someone who says no to him."

The expression on your face changes from a dark scowl when a man stands a few inches too close to you while ordering a drink, to a soft, disinterested pout when he leaves again and you're able to relax. You don't look resistant, you look hesitant. You don't look like you're refusing to talk to anyone, you look like you're waiting for the right person to talk to you, and Derek Morgan was wrong.

"I'll just be a minute," Spencer slips out from beneath Derek's heavy hand and ignores the agent's groan as he approaches you. He knows Morgan's eyes are heavy on his back while he steps up to your barstool, but he pushes away the pressure of an audience to smile kindly at you.

"Hello," He offers, his voice barely audible over the music. His fingers latch tight around the strap of his messenger bag and the flyer he's holding wrinkles in his firm grip, "I'm Doctor Spencer Reid, with the FBI's Behavioral Analysis Unit, I'm here to warn you about a potential threat."

Maybe it's not the strongest way to start off a conversation with a pretty girl at a bar, but it's the information you need to know. Stuttered flirting and watered-down drinks can come later, if they happen at all; Spencer's priority is your safety.

Your brows raise and you look past Spencer's shoulder hesitantly, "Is it him? He tried trapping me earlier."

Spencer's chest relaxes slightly where it had been tensed, and he lets out a mild laugh, "Well, he's not the main threat I'm worried about. Did he- did he do the thing where he called you sugar?"

"Mm-mm," You shake your head, taking a sip of the sad remains of your drink and speaking after you swallow, "Sweet cheeks."

Even Spencer winces. Where Morgan's strategy is charm first, then the ugly stuff, Spencer thinks it's only fair to let you know why he's there before letting himself get distracted.

"He thinks that's some sort of magic spell," He laments, "Uh- I'm sorry if he made you uncomfortable. Technically, he was just trying to warn you about the same guy I'm warning you about, but we have a very different way of going about business."

"I can tell," You nod, eyes widening slightly for emphasis. Then you glance at the stool beside your own, "Sit down, Doctor. Tell me about this creep. Well- the one on the flyer."

Morgan watches with something ugly rearing in his chest as Spencer takes the seat you've offered him, but he wrestles it down to replace it with pride. Perhaps he'll have to reevaluate his strategy when it comes to disinterested patrons, but as he watches Spencer magically find his business card behind your ear, he's not sure he'll ever have what the young doctor does.

[a-hazbin-reader]

Alastor gets that DILF energy. He’s doing whatever with his kid, holding the baby and just chilling when suddenly reader pounces on him because she finds it so attractive. He doesn’t know what’s going on, but his wife suddenly being… excited isn’t always fun and he won’t say no

YOO-

Alastor X Reader Headcanons

✅️Romantic

❌️Platonic

TW: Suggestive, ALASTOR GETTING LAID, ALASTOR BEING PUSHED TO HIS LIMIT, Wife is H O R N Y

Description: ☝️⬆️

Alastor has taken to fatherhood more easily than even he had expected, loving and protecting his little family with an intense fierceness

He loves watching his wife tend to their babies, something about it making his chest swell with happiness and pride

He didn't consider that watching him act paternal would do things to his beloved wife

The first time it happens, he doesn't see the correlation at all, just assuming his wife had been feeling pent up

He was putting his children down for bed, arguing with his adorably mouthy little girl while giving her brother his favorite plushie(he needs it to sleep)

"Now I know you're upset with this arrangement, little one, but you and your brother must get some shut eye."

She's visibly displeased, rubbing her eye as she fights off sleep, leaning on his shoulder as she pouts

Alastor sees you watching him in the doorway, a fond smile on your face as you watch him try to convince your daughter to sleep

What he doesn't see is the small flush on your face, the way your eyes follow his arms as he lays the baby down or the way you swallow as he kisses both his children goodnight

Seeing him so caring and gentle and soft is just-doing things to you

Alastor isn't sure WHAT is happening when as soon as the door closes behind him, you're pulling him into the bedroom by his collar

"My dear, what-mmf!"

Later, when he's laying in bed naked, staring up at the ceiling while you doze on his chest, he'll wonder what got into you

Not that he minded, it was just unexpected

The second time it happens?? Alastor has an inkling of what might be setting you off but doesn't know for sure

His son had tripped and fallen, crying his little eyes out, the impact probably having scared him more than any real pain

But Alastor hates seeing his baby boy cry, so he picked him up and gently examined his son's hands, blowing on the little scratches there before kissing them

"There~ Papa made it all better, see?"

The boy simply sniffled and wrapped his little arms around Alastor's neck, seeking the comfort of his father

And Alastor couldn't deny the way his heart swelled, rubbing his son's back as he rocked and soothed the baby

Not even two minutes after he had put down his son, who was suddenly enamored with Vaggie and following her, did Alastor feel a menacing aura

All he felt was his wife's hand on his shoulder before he was suddenly being dragged up the stairs

He barely has time to register your lips on his neck and hands wandering under his clothes before you're cooing at him to touch you

Ah well...how can he say no to such a generous request?

Husk doesn't say anything when a disheveled Alastor stumbles out of the room hours later and drinks everything in sight before going back

Just keep playing with the babies, Husk...just keep playing with the babies...

Alastor starts to legitimately worry that you'll get pregnant again at this point...so soon after the last time...

Alastor is ready for it the third time, having decided to test out his theory and see if he's right

So he's deliberate in playing with his children in front of you, watching your reaction out of the corner of his eye

You're sitting and reading, not even looking up at them...

The twins are currently hiding from him, their little ears poking out from behind the couch as they giggle and try to keep quiet

Alastor is slow and purposeful as he stalks around the couch, brushing a hand against the back of your neck as he passes by

"Now where could my little fawns be hiding, hm~? Surely not...over...HERE~!"

They scream and scramble to run away from their father, only to be scooped up by his strong arms and held close

Now you're glancing over your book at them, your eyes zeroing in on your husband

He's kissing and nuzzling the twins, their little hands pushing his face away as they squirm, unaware of how futile it is

Alastor looks so smug when you put your book down and start to really take an interest in what he's doing

He gives piggyback rides, tosses and catches them, chases them and everything else he can think of

All while being painfully aware of your heated gaze on him

And if he was purposefully teasing you and drawing out a little extra time with his kids... who was gonna know?

So he isn't surprised when Charlie and Vaggie are being put in charge of baby duty, and Alastor is being lead upstairs

He's ready for it when the door locks behind him and you're guiding his hands over your body

He's about ready to tap out when you roll over on top of him, straddling his lap and encouraging him to go again

"Darling...are you sure you're not in heat or something?"

You laugh at him and it's the scariest yet sexiest thing he's ever heard, his manhood curious but confused by his emotions

"Don't tell me your well has gone dry, darling~ Charlie said she'd watch the kids for us all night~"

He wakes up the next day feeling like he got hit by truck, his throat is parched and he has dried sweat on him-

He hears the bedroom door open, and his wife looks so innocent and happy, not at all like the bedroom monster he keeps meeting

You come up and kiss his forehead, sitting down next to him before handing him a glass of water

"Good morning, darling~ Our babies are waiting to see you so hurry up and get out of bed~"

He watches you walk out of the room, a small part of him proud of the slight wobble in your step but a larger part of him scared for his life

He never thought he would go out like this-

Worth it though 👌

HERE! TAKE IT BEFORE MY FACE MELTS FROM BLUSHING

[bunny-1111]

I love love love your writing! I was just re-reading “Theodore Nott who…” and possibly wondered if you could expand on how he reminds reader that he will propose when they are finished school. Kicking my legs giggling thinking about that 😂

Aww, thank you. Of course, I can. Let me know if you have any other requests!! PS I wrote a whole thing, ready to push post now. It was perfect, but something happened, and it didn't save, so I had to rewrite it the best I could, I hope you enjoy this anyway AH I'M SO MAD 🥲,

...

Theodore, at age 11, thought you were the prettiest girl in school

Theodore, at age 13, began to navigate his not-so-small crush on you

Theodore, at age 16, felt his heart in his stomach as he swallowed his pride and finally asked you out

That is where our story starts.

By 17, you got comfortable enough and started spending the night in each other's dorms; one random Tuesday morning, Theo woke up earlier than usual, you were still fast asleep. Theodore was a very productive person. If he woke up early, he would get up, make a coffee, go for a run around the grounds, come back, and shower, all before most had even opened their eyes. As he reached for the corner of his side of the blanket and moved to start his day, you felt him, causing you to stir, your brows quickly scrunching, your body automatically moving towards him; you reached for him even in sleep. Something in his mind slowed, something in his heart raced, something in his soul shook. Dropping the blanket in his hand, he surrendered to you, laying so close, gently caressing your face, feeling peace in your dream state. Then it dawned on him, if I married her, this would be the last face I would see before I slept and the first I would see when I woke up.

That's when it began.

His constant reminders of marriage.

That very morning.

When your eyes fluttered open, Theos wide eyes already met yours, it would've scared you in his eyes weren't so dreamy.

"Good morn-" you start

"Marry me" he interrupted

"What?!" you laughed out. It was too early for this

"Marry me?" he smiled

"shut up" you laughed, reaching your hand under your pillow, softly throwing it at him

"Come on, why not?" he pleaded

"Theodore, we're still in high school, that's why", you smile

"Fine, you fucking time waster, but after we get out of here, I'm gonna marry you", he insisted

You thought it was a passing thought.

Something he wouldn't bring up again.

Boy, were you wrong, he proved that time and time again over the next two years.

Sitting in class, he would peck a kiss on your cheek from behind you. "Kisses for the Mrs" he would whisper with a smile before returning to his own seat

In the great hall, he slapped Matteo's hand away as you and he both reached for the same dish. "Can't you see my fiance wants that slice?" he grits, serving you before Matteo puts it on his own plate. "You aren't fucking engaged?" A defeated Matteo retorts, arms out in confusion. "Don't start", you apologise on behalf of you and your pretend husband

In Hogsmeade, you and Pansy tried on dresses. Theodore was walking past when he saw you in the mirror. Letting himself in, he slithered behind you, his reflection joining yours in the mirror, slipping a hand down your waist. "You know, if you look this good in this dress, I can only imagine how good you'd look in white," he'd smirk, "you know when we get married," he muttered on his way to the register, leaving money, giving the workers strict instructions to charge him for any dress you bought, for them to keep the change too.

When Theodore had early morning Quittich practice, he would leave a steaming cup of coffee or tea on your bedside, accompanied by a note: " To keep you warm while I'm gone, good morning, my better half, Mrs Nott."

When you studied in the libary, you had a very distinct look of focus. He would lay a bored hand on his face, "Come on, let's go for a smoke", he whined, "No, Theodore, We have final exams soon. You should be studying. Go without me if you want" you explain, fingers pointing at text on his book, "not going without you" he said frustrated under his breath. Theodore kept testing, blabbing nonsense, attempting to distract you, staring at you instead of the open books. "Why are we wasting time? You could be pregnant by now," he said, his free hand twirling your hair. This caused you to slam your book closed, looking up at him, your eyes widening. "What!?" he laughed. "If I had it my way, we would've tied the knot last year, and we would have a kid on the way", he continued; you did nothing but shake your head and fight your growing smile.

Walking through the gardens, you pointed at some hydrangeas. "My favourite flowers" you smiled. "I know" he smiled "I'd walk down the aisle with hydrangeas in my hand," you say softly, leaning in to smell the flowers, "When we get married, I will" you say picking some to take with you. Theodore could've fainted on the spot. 'When we get married,' your voice repeated in his mind, pulling you up into a deep kiss

When you finally graduated, Theodore pulled your father aside. If there was something Teddy valued, it was tradition; he was officially asking for your hand.

Returning to you, smiling ear to ear, he suggests you join him on a walk. Reaching the tree near the Black Lake, he kissed your forehead, one hand intertwined with yours, the other hand in his pocket, fidgeting with a small box.

A box containing a ring.

That he had bought on the year prior, now all that was left to do was kneel.

unedited today, sorry for any incorrection I'm too tired to reread or edit rn LOL

in my mind me and teddy r married

him in a suit KILL ME NOW one chance PLS

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, alcohol, brief talk of injuries/chronic pain

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 1.4k words

“Oi! What’s this?” 

You sit up from your stretch with a sheepish look on your face, legs spread out on either side of you on Sirius’ rug. 

“You know there’s no practice during lounge time,” he scolds. 

You roll your eyes but come out of your split, standing to take the drink Sirius holds out for you. “I just felt a little tight.” 

“Probably because of how hard you’ve been working at not jumping.” He clinks his glass against yours, taking a hearty sip. 

You copy him, and your face scrunches. “Oh, my god.” You sound like you’re fighting a gag. “What’s in this?” 

“It’s sangria.” Sirius’ voice is a bit wounded. Which feels appropriate, because you’ve just reacted to his sangria like it’s petrol. 

“You mean there’s a whole bowl of it?” 

“That’s how it typically works.” He takes another sip, swishing it around his mouth a bit. It’s really not bad. “I make drinks, babe. Not juice.” 

“I’m going to have to revoke your drink making privileges again after this,” you sigh, folding one leg under you as you sit down on the couch. You take another sip, tentative and with narrowed eyes like you’re suspicious of the liquid in your glass, but this time you swallow without complaint. “Do you really think I’m working hard at not jumping?” 

Sirius grimaces. He should have known better than to think he could breeze by a comment like that. 

“Listen,” he says, “he’s not wrong about everything. I mean, about most things, definitely—” you give a little smile, the reward he was seeking “—but he’s got a point on this one. I can feel you tensing right before the jumps. Before a lot of things, actually. You’re holding yourself back.” 

You rub your lips together, a nervous tic of yours that torments Sirius like nothing else. He fights the urge to lick his own lips in response. 

“Do you remember what Peter said about my jumps?” you ask him. 

Sirius feels his mouth twist with a malice not meant for you. He tries to quell it. But fuck—why are you still thinking about that wanker? 

Peter Pettigrew was a mistake in trust Sirius never should have made. His judgment has always been wonky where James is concerned; Peter was James’ friend, so he was Sirius’ by default, but Sirius still should have known better than to bring him around you. 

Before, there would have been three of you here. Peter used to like to sit on the couch with Sirius, and you were more than happy to lounge around on the rug and stretch, no matter how many times Sirius told you to lay off yourself and relax for once. He was totally prepared to have to shoot you down if you suggested inviting Remus tonight, but despite how comfortable you seem to have become with your new coach over the last couple of weeks, you haven’t seemed inclined to bring your relationship outside the rink. Sirius is grateful. Now that it’s just the two of you, he intends to keep it that way. It had more than stung to learn that Peter sold the both of you out, but it was worse knowing that Sirius could have avoided it had he simply used the acumen he’d always prided himself on to sniff out the rat before it happened. 

Fuck, the sangria is already going to Sirius’ head; he has half a mind to go to the pillock’s apartment and burn it down. If Peter’s half as smart as he thinks he is, he’ll have already moved. 

“No,” Sirius says, already tired with this conversation. He takes another lengthy sip from his glass. “What did he say?”

You curl your feet a little closer to you, and—yep, if Peter’s ever stupid enough to come within Sirius’ sight again, he’s going to knock his fucking teeth out. “He told the other coach that I was one bad jump away from injuring myself into an early retirement.” 

From your weary tone, Sirius can guess that you’ve memorized it verbatim. 

“He didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about,” he tells you firmly. 

Your voice gets smaller. “He usually did.” 

Your defeat hits Sirius right in the center of his chest. It makes his wrath fizzle. He doesn’t like to think about Peter’s better qualities, but you’re not wrong. He wasn’t always a complete idiot when it came to coaching. 

You lean your head on the couch cushion, and Sirius mirrors you unthinkingly. 

“You think you’re going to get hurt.” His voice comes out even softer than he intends. It’s a question, and also not. 

You nod anyway. “I can’t stop thinking about it. I know I’m messing us up, but I don’t want to fall and then not be able to compete.” 

Sirius’ mind flashes to Remus, to his grimace when he stands from the bleachers, the limp he tries to hide. From your expression, you’re thinking about him too. 

“You’re not messing us up, love.” The endearment slips out too easily, Sirius’ throat all buttered up by sympathy and booze. “Only yourself. You’re falling more now than you did before, you do realize that?” 

Your expression creases slightly, which is answer enough. 

“Every time you tense up or hold yourself back,” he says, “you’re more at risk for a bad fall than you would be if you committed. I’ve seen you fall more in the last couple of weeks than I think I ever have. Whatever Pete—Peter—was talking about, you’re only as much at risk of getting hurt as everyone else that’s as good a skater as you are—I mean, you have the skill to protect yourself, you’re just not using it. You trying to play it safe is less safe than when you didn’t worry about it.” 

You sit with this for a minute, rubbing your lips together thoughtfully. Sirius notices that at some point, you’ve nearly drained your glass as well. 

“Oh,” you say simply. 

He can’t help the grin that splits his face. “Oh?” 

“I hadn’t quite thought about it like that.” You take another sip, eyes stuck in the middle distance. 

“You can just say I’m the wisest person you know. It’s all right.” 

Your gaze cuts to him. “Would you like that engraved on a trophy?”

Sirius feels his smile grow. “Sure, I’ll add it to my collection.” 

“Oh, you are insufferable,” you chuckle. “Don’t think it was your original idea, though, was it?” A grin spreads across your face, one Sirius doesn’t like very much. “In fact, I think you’ve just agreed with Remus. Quite heartily.” 

Sirius feels his mouth pucker in distaste. “That was incidental.” 

Your laughter is diabolical. He wonders whether you were quite so wicked before you met him; it’s impossible to say, now. 

“Should I skip practice tomorrow?” you ask gleefully. “That way you two can spend the entire time waxing poetic about how right the other is.” 

He levels you with a dead stare. “Don’t fool yourself, doll. You like me too much to condemn me to such a cruel fate.” 

“You’re so full of it.” You roll your eyes with a smile, swirling your glass. “He is sort of your type, isn’t he?” 

Sirius’ throat nearly hurts from the force of his scoff. “What—dull, stubborn, and pompous? Fuck off.”

You hum, your gaze playful. “But also quite fit, right?” 

Sirius narrows his eyes at you, but that only makes yours twinkle more. He feels it like tiny little firecrackers in his gut. Even though you’re only teasing, he can see where you’d get the idea. When Sirius dates boys, he tends to go for ones taller than him, with Remus’ same lissom frame and enigmatic allure. But with Remus, there is no enigma; he’s a tosser, clear as day. And truly, Sirius hasn’t found anybody as lovely as you in some time. 

“Sounds like you’re the one who fancies him,” he says, keeping his voice light. He makes his expression go impish and teasing. “We can both do better, don’t you think?” 

You roll your eyes, but your expression is inscrutable as you take another sip from your glass. Until you take another sip, that is. Then, your lip curls. “Ugh, we can certainly do better than this. Do you have something I could add to it?” 

“You want me to let you sully my creation,” Sirius deadpans. 

“I want you to let me make your monstrosity potable.”

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says. “I’ll let you, but then no more shop talk for the night.” 

You grin, sitting up. “I promise.” 

“There’s orange juice in the fridge.” 

[etfrin]

The Reward — Coriolanus Snow ♡

⇢☾Warning: NSFW | pinv sex, mirror sex-ish if you squint, dub con if you squint, overstimulation if you squint, face riding, creampie, cunnilingus, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), snow is his own warming, dom sub undertones, reader has ear piercings, degradation, hints of a toxic relationship, impact play (spanks your ass a few times), dumbfication if you squint, low-key soft! Snow in the beginning | lmk if I forgot anything!

⇢☾Pairing: young president Coriolanus Snow! x fem! Reader

⇢☾Summary: Coriolanus Snow gives you a reward by being gentle af and then by being a mean animal (kinda) dnsjsk🤭

⇢☾A/N: it's 3:00 am and i need to sleep, i thought about Snow taking off my heels after a gala and this was born <3

< arranged marriage m.list > < tag list > < masterlist >

Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman but he wasn't gentle. Perhaps this was an alternative universe, a fever dream but you couldn't believe what was happening right now in front of your eyes. Your pupils were in shock, your palms were sweating as you continued to take in the sight.

The sight of Snow being on his knees as he unclasps the belts of your uncomfortable heels. You swallow, “Coryo, you don't have to” but his head tilts up and his eyes are still his. Blue, cold, empty, and never ending like the ocean. A calmness washed over you, the look in his eyes proof enough that this was one of his many tricks to keep you satisfied and happy and you have to indulge him in it.

So you let him gently take off your shoes and set them aside. You await his further actions and let out a soft, small moan as his lips pressed to one of your knees. His mouth keeps pressing wet kisses up to your upper thigh, leaving behind a trail of his saliva on your skin.

This was a reward. Coriolanus was so proud of his pretty and smart wife today. You behaved accordingly in the gala tonight, letting him take the credit for your ideas. You understood your duties and that's why this is one of the few times Coryo will ever kneel for or be this gentle. It's a thank you he can't voice so he does it by his actions.

His lips find themselves kissing inside your inner thigh now, gently nipping the skin as you let out needy mewls. He could see the wet spot forming in your panties and felt the usual pride in his mind bloom. Only he could have you wet so easily and damn, if that didn't skyrocket his ego.

He kissed the wet spot, the juices now glistening onto his pink lips and he pulled back. You whimper as he does, and he wants to coo at you and tease you for being a greedy pet. But he doesn't, it's a reward after all.

He stood up and pressed a kiss to your forehead before his hand grabbed the box of make-up wipes. You still hadn't said a word, letting him do his thing. He gently wiped the makeup off your face, clearing you of the chemicals he hated but you had to apply them to stay in fashion.

His fingers then gently take off the earrings you had worn, and then one by one all the rings you had except the wedding ring of course. His touch had lingered during all of those actions, making your body heat up and your panties soaked. Soft sighs escape you as he continues to adore you in such a gentle manner. As if you're made of the most precious diamond but easily breakable without care.

That's what he might have thought of you. So damn important to his sanity but any action of yours can damn him to hell. A risk, a liability to everything he has. But in his mind, you're worth it all and he has done every single scenario where things can go wrong, so many sleepless nights dedicated to these thoughts.

Snow lands on top.

Nothing you can do can mess him up, nothing. He makes sure of it with his every living breath. It's the reason he can spoil you like this, be a deserving man to his wife otherwise Coriolanus Snow is a monster (and you know that and accept him anyway).

He unzips your dress, his lips now pressing a heated kiss to your nape as his fingertips trace your bare skin. His touch was cold as ice, the heat of your body cooling down to his touch. It gave you relief momentarily but it was clear that you wanted more. The whimper that left your mind as he unclasped your bra was enough proof of that.

With your breasts set free from their confines, Corio’s hands begin to knead your soft tits. His eyes look into the mirror as he watches himself message your soft breasts, his fingers pinching your nipples making the sensitive pebbles hard. He rolls the buds, playing with them until you moan, your body flushing with lust in your veins. You begin to rub your thighs, getting desperate for any sort of friction but you force yourself to stop as he tsks near your ear.

“Don't, doll,” he whispered as one of his hands began the journey of going down on your body, the heat of his palm onto your tummy and then so close to your clothed pussy. “Spread,” he commands and you follow without embarrassment or hesitation.

Your soaked panties come into your view through the mirror and you want to look away from the shyness you still had but didn't. Instead, a whine escapes your lips that makes Coriolanus chuckle. “Such a needy pet. I will take care of you, darling. No need to worry.”

You moan as he refers to you as darling for the first time. Your cunt clenching desperately around nothing as your mind gets dizzy. There was something about how he had said it. Soft and warm, his voice dipping a bit lower as he pronounced the letters and it was tinged with a feeling he wouldn't associate himself with.

Love.

You whimper, “Please” and he hushes you as his fingers snap the band of your panties before he dips a single finger onto your wet folds. He smirks, his face looking into the mirror to gaze into your glazed eyes. “Pathetic,” he muttered and you didn't bother to take offense, his words turning you on as much as his finger circling on your clit was.

A broken moan escapes as his fingers decide to pinch the sensitive nub, and he coats his fingers with your juices. A string of sticky white cream on his digits as he takes his hand out of your panties and places his covered fingers inside the wet carven of his mouth. He expertly sucks clean of his fingers, popping them out of his mouth with an obscene sound.

He smirks to himself as he relishes the taste of you. His. Just his you were. He leaves you there, alone on the chair as he walks to the bed. He wasn't wearing anything except for his pants. His suit and shirt were taken off earlier.

You waited for his further command as he got himself comfortable on the bed. “Come here,” he said and you listen. You take off your wet panties and let them stay ruined on the floor as you practically crawl to Coryo. You straddle him and wait some more.

He doesn't say anything, his face blank but his sky-blue eyes heated. His hands were on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh there, making sure to grip you tight enough to mark you.

His tongue comes out to wet his rather dried lips. Your breath hitches as you see it and the sight of you being so affected by such a simple action made him feel like a. . . Lord.

He doesn't say anything, but did he need to? You knew him all too well, so you don't question yourself as you begin to move. The new position had you gripping the headboard while his hands shamelessly groped your ass, even occasionally giving small sharp slaps onto the flesh, making it red. It was simply another way of marking you.

Meanwhile, your eyes were closed, your mind forgetting about the existence of reality as his hot breath hit your glistening folds and made you quiver. “Go ahead,” he permits you.

Not even a second later, you begin to ride his face. He groans as his lips meet with your cunt. His tongue begins with broad, messy strokes of your pussy, gathering as much as your juices possible. All the while your eyes roll back and you moan. A sharp slap on the flesh of your ass has you grinding yourself onto his face. His nose nudged your sensitive, swollen clit perfectly as his tongue continued to swirl and flick around your cunt with calculated broad strokes that made you whine his name.

Soon his mouth finds your clit and begins to relentlessly suck your bundle of nerves. You cry out, pleading that this is too much and you can't- can't take it! But your begging was unheard and your pleas turned into louder moans, whimpers for pleas, and more. His sucking gets harsher and the overstimulation makes your mind reel. The warmth that was gathering in your lower body begins to spread all over, turning your bones to jelly and your mind to nothing as you cum onto his face. The rolls of your hips slowly as he continues to lap at all the cream released and your pussy keeps on spasming.

Your mind wanted more so you decided to take more. You had understood this was a reward for being good. So you can be a bit bad for now. So despite his grunt of displeasure as you get off his face, you quickly find yourself getting rid of his remaining clothes.

His cock was hard, the red tip angry and gleaming with pre-cum that coated most of his length. The sight had you salivating. Coryo knew you were nothing more than a cockdrunk slut and he called you that, you feel yourself glow from his words, not finding the word even a little bit degrading.

“I love you,” you mumbled as you lowered yourself onto his cock with a wanton moan echoing through the room. He groans, “Fuck yourself good, pet. You're in charge of your pleasure tonight. Go ahead, dove.”

“Yes, Coryo,” you whine as you feel yourself full of his cock. You felt yourself squeezing his thick length, a gasp escaping you as you tried to get used to his cock without being prepped. A groan could be heard as he felt his dick getting squeezed by your wet, tight cunt.

He wants to fuck into you and he almost does. But Coriolanus Snow was a gentleman and a gentleman kept his word. Especially when he can see his wife looking so fucking pretty being fucked out from his cock merely twitching inside her walls.

“Begin,” he demands, his voice haughty and filled with lust but you weren't ready. However, you couldn't bring yourself to care. You begin to rock your hips, slowly at first, you let yourself savor the action of his cock grinding against every hidden pleasure spot inside of your cunt. You moan as your pussy takes his cock deeper until his tip is pressed right against your g-spot making you see stars. You begin to grind back and forth so he keeps hitting that spot, you begin to sweat, your thighs clenching, and you couldn't keep focus as pleasure feels your every vein and his cock making you dumb. Simple actions seemed impossible to you and you wanted to beg him to take over, to make you cum again and again until you were broken.

He was unaware of your turmoil, his eyes onto the sight where his cock meets with your cunt, the combined fluid of his pre-cum and your slick dripping down onto his skin. The sight was filthy and he loved it. He clenched his jaw, trying so hard to be a patient gentleman to his wife.

He treated this like a test against himself because he knew what you did to his self-control. You aren't going to win this, he's not going to let go. He will not fuck into you like an animal, he refused to.

But was it losing when you were out of it like this? As if you were truly nothing but a dumb slut who just needs to cum. He decided that this wasn't a loss, but a win. He was doing you a favor when his hips began to snap upwards, his cock thrusting inside of you faster than the pace you had set. It was a pity that he felt so that's why he went back to his words. He was in control of your pleasure and he always will be. Self-control had nothing to do with it, he told himself.

You scream out in pleasure as several spanks are delivered onto your ass, turning the flesh red. It was clear that you liked the sting because of how tightly your pussy suffocated his dick after each slap. ‘Fucking whore of a wife’, he thought. He doesn't voice his thoughts but merely grins at the sight of tears filling your eyes. His dick twitched, an indication of being close.

However, he had to make you cum on his cock first. His hips begin to rut in faster into you, his hands holding you down as he thrusts in faster and harder. His dick kissing all of your hidden spots you didn't even know existed, his cock was perfect.

All you could do was take and take the reward he was giving you. Tears of satisfaction fell down your cheeks and it nourished his pride. You begin to ramble as you get closer to the edge. You ramble about how perfect he is, how much you love him, and fuck you can't think- you can't think. He is perfect, perfect, perfect.

Each of your praises makes him fuck you harder, deeper, a thrust so deep that his cockhead kissed your cervix making you gasp from a hint of pain and a hundredfold of pleasure. You begin to cum, and he shallowly thrusts into your cunt as you ride out your high. Your pussy spasms continuously around his cock as you cry out from being overwhelmed.

“That's a good girl,” he coos at you, “that's my girl.” You whine, your mind unable to process his words. You couldn't even sit up anymore, your body falling onto his. He wraps his arms around you, caging you to him. “My perfect wife,” he whispered as he continues to fuck into you despite your protests of being too much.

He doesn't listen to your pleas, his reward for you ultimately was his cum. Now he can't stop until he finds release himself, otherwise, how would you get your gift, right?

So he continues and it doesn't take more than a few minutes to fuck his thick, hot load into your womb. You whimper as his cock slips out and sighs in relief. You were in his arms and will be so for the rest of the night.

Coriolanus Snow wondered briefly if you liked your reward if not, well you have full access to his credit cards.

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@sushirolliee @poppyflower-22 @dilucpegg3r

[coco-loco-nut]

Forza Red Bull

Pairing: Max x Best Friend Reader

Summary: You have a big decision to make, stick with Red Bull or move to Ferrari

A/n: changing when the driver's press conference is for the plot. Thanks for the request!! I loved writing this

requests open masterlist

_________

It is getting increasingly harder to hide your trips to the Ferrari motorhome, where you are negotiating a potential contract. Fred has been talking with you the latter half of the season, just waiting on a phone call from you, one that you are reluctant to take despite it being an offer you can't otherwise refuse.

Your contract ends after this season and Red Bull is waiting until after the season to offer you a new contract, despite them knowing your requests. To you, Red Bull’s waiting says everything. They aren’t confident in you, and they don’t want you.

Carlos is leaving the Ferrari team, having gotten a better seat elsewhere. Most F1 fans believe Ferrari will be signing Ollie Bearman or Arthur Leclerc.

"Y/n, it's a beautiful day for racing," Max wraps his arm around your shoulders, fresh from a workout. The hot Abu Dhabi air doesn't help the sweat.

"Ew, Max, get off of me, you smell," you gag for the added effect.

"I'm wounded, my own teammate and best friend?" Max places his hand over his heart.

"Go shower than we can talk. I stopped dealing with sweaty Max after karting," you shove him off of you. Max rolls his eyes, heading to shower while you beeline for coffee.

Your heart hurts while greeting the staff you have grown to love since you joined the team in 2021. Hannah sits down beside you.

"How are you feeling today?" she asks, handing you a pastry.

"Good, I think I have a shot at winning today, hopefully with your brilliant strategy I will," you smile hopefully, one that drops as you see her cringe a little.

"About that, Christian wants you to defend," Hannah tells you, you can feel the anger building. You have been so close to beating Max last year and the championship is just within your grasp, you need this win. You should've known better, you were brought onto the team for your ability to defend. She shouldn’t even be warning you about Christian’s strategy, but she has a soft spot for you as a friend.

"Hannah, please," your eyes beg her to give you the better strategy.

"I'm sorry, Y/n," she whispers, the one person on pit wall you thought that was on your side other than your race engineer. You swallow your pride and nod, looking away.

"Understood, I'll defend," you say after a second.

"You are a wonderful teammate and driver, Max is lucky to have you," her comforting words fall flat. Max. Your best friend and fiercest competition.

"I have to go to the press conference," you say, standing up and walking away.

"Y/n? Everything okay?" Pierre asks, you two weren't close, but you were a part of a group chat for drivers who are traumatized by Red Bull, one that you had often joked that you don't belong in. Now you know why Daniel added you.

"Red Bull," you huff angrily.

"I'm sorry," Pierre doesn't know why he's apologizing, but he can certainly empathize with you. The two of you walk to the conference together. You weren't close with Pierre, but you aren't enemies either.

You receive the first question of the conference.

"Y/n, you've been strong in free practice and qualifying. How are you feeling going into today, knowing that these are crucial points in your battle with your teammate, Max? Especially since you were in this position last year," the interviewer asks.

"Wow, starting off strong. Um, yeah, the car has felt great all weekend, I feel great going into today. It's always so much fun to race with Max, something I've had the privilege to do since we were karting together. Max got the win last year, so I hope I can secure it for myself this year," You say, hoping that satisfies the question. It does, at least until the journalists.

"How is Red Bull handling the driver situation, seeing that you and Max are both fighting for a championship," the journalist asks.

"Obviously the team wants us both to succeed, they will have a winner either way. I'm really glad to be with a team that supports both of us that way," you lie through your teeth, knowing that Christian wants Max to win. There is a reason that the Red Bull PR team loves you doing press conferences. You can feel Pierre, Carlos, and Daniel looking at you, knowing that you are likely lying, they just aren't sure which part.

"Good luck today, Y/n, if someone is going to beat me, I want it to be my best friend. If it isn't this year, I know you will take next year's Red Bull to the top," Max hugs you. Your anger dissolves for a moment, you aren't mad at him. He makes a great point, you already have a great relationship with Red Bull, you love it here, even if Christian makes you mad sometimes. Ferrari is, well, Ferrari. The car isn't as good and the strategy is lacking. You are smart, you know Red Bull is the better team, and Christian can't ignore your ability after this season.

"Thank you, Maxie. I hope you lose," he can't help but to laugh with you. You go into your driver's room to text your agent, letting them know which team you chose.

"Y/n, are you sure?" She asks over the phone, calling you immediately.

"I am," your agent agrees to let both teams know, only asking you to call her after the race.

You get ahead later in the race, wheel to wheel with Max as you battle for P1. You know Red Bull isn't going to show their hand that they want Max to win yet.

Y/n, let Max overtake

The instructions flow through your earpiece, you push harder.

No. Max can take the win from my cold dead hands. That's a team order, Y/n I don't give a shit. Tell Christrian and Hannah to fuck off.

Max is a bit confused why you aren't letting him pass, GP told him he was getting the overtake, but he respects you wanting to fight. You ignore your engineer trying to get you to follow team directions.

Y/n, I'm saying this as your friend, your race engineer for the past 3 years. Max has the faster pace, you have to let him pass before you end up in a crash

You hold back the tears in your eyes, as you watch Max slide in front of you, taking P1.

It's not fair. I know, keep fighting. We will get it next season. I will hold you to that. Red Bull owes me that much.

You keep your helmet on after the race, not letting the cameras see you cry. Max immediately finds you after weigh-ins.

"Y/n, I'm so sorry, I didn't know they were going to do that," Max says, pulling you into a hug.

"I knew. Hannah told me this morning," you do your best not to take your anger out on him.

"Why didn't you tell me? I would've fought for you, you're my best friend," Max asks, confused.

"I didn't want you to throw your race for me,"

"This isn't happening next year, I will make Christian understand that. You fought so hard for the win, you deserved it," Max tells you and you nod.

"I know, I'm negotiating it into my contract. I have to go pee and make it look like I wasn't crying. I'll see you in a minute," you tell Max, purposefully being ambiguous like you have the past couple months, going into the private bathroom to make the quick call, getting your phone from your assistant.

"You have the green light to announce your contract," she says before you hang up. You subtly give your phone back and head to the podium.

"That was one hell of a fight, is Red Bull mad at you for ignoring team orders, even though you did give up the spot?" You are asked after the podium by Sky Sports.

"Probably, not that it matters much now since it was the last race of the season," you shrug.

"You have yet to announce your contract renewal with Red Bull, will you be negotiating the team orders part?" Another asks.

"Yeah, I will be making sure any future contracts don't allow something like today to happen again. Red Bull has been waiting because of my salary increase. Which is why I will be joining Scuderia Ferrari next season," you say, dropping the bomb. You had been tempted to say Forza Ferrari over the team radio.

Max looks at you in disbelief and hurt. You don't comment after that, electing to leave the room and go back to your driver's room. Charles nods supportively at you, having been informed already about his new teammate.

"Y/n, open the door," you hear Max's voice on the other side a few minutes after you change.

"Max, I'm sorry I didn't tell you. I made the decision minutes before the race," your voice cracks a little.

"How long have you been talking to them?"

"Since after summer break,"

"Damn it! Why didn't you tell me, I could've helped you," Max looks utterly broken.

"Because you needed to focus on your racing. Even if I stayed things would be good for a few races then they would go back to how they are now. Red Bull will always choose you. I'm not mad at you for it, please know that," you plead a little as Max pulls away from you.

"You knew you were changing teams for half of the season and didn't tell me. You are going to our rival. You are supposed to be my best friend,"

"I am your best friend, Maxie, I wasn't allowed to say anything,"

"Don't call me that, I can't be friends with someone who doesn't trust me," Max gets up and leaves.

"Max! Max, please come back," you cry, a hole in your heart. You leave the paddock discreetly and go back to your hotel room. Usually, you'd be celebrating with Max, but now you don't know what to do. There is a knock on your door, you hope it's Max,

Daniel, Pierre, Yuki, Carlos, and Alex stand at your door with wine, a cake that reads 'Fuck Red Bull' and another that reads 'The real WDC winner'.

"Max is a dickhead," Daniel offers as you let them into your room. Despite Daniel's good relationship with Christian, he knows right from wrong.

"Thanks, guys. How did you even get cakes like this last minute?" you say, happy to celebrate with them.

“It’s a secret,” Yuki smiles secretively.

"Sorry, Y/n, you deserved the win. I'm glad you are taking my seat at Ferrari," Carlos says, patting your shoulder.

"Let's get drunk, eat cake, then go to the club," Pierre suggests, a plan that you all quickly agree to. Yuki and Alex show you the massive support you are receiving online and the backlash Red Bull is getting. It is comforting, you just wish your best friend was here.

Twitter has a field day with the squad you roll up to the bars with, but they all ask the same question, where's Max. It takes until testing for you to comment on it.

"You shocked the world after announcing a move to Ferrari not long after being forced to lose the world championship. Any harsh feelings towards Max Verstappen following last year's drama?" you are asked right away.

"None. Other drivers might be mad or take it out on the track, but at the end of the day, it wasn't his call, it was Red Bulls. Obviously, it sucks to lose someone who was your best friend, but everything happens for a reason. I can't wait to drive equally with my teammate and have the Tifosi support," you say, catching Max watching you out of the corner of your eye. He is obviously still upset. You ignore him, he can find you when he is ready to apologize.

"If she had told me what she was planning on doing, maybe we would be friends still, but I can't be friends with people who lie to me and are traitors," Max says when asked for his opinion. Max only apologized after you won the season with Ferrari, you think it was because Charles and Daniel forced him to. You are just happy to have your friend back.

[avocado-writing]

Okay, I've had this idea bouncing around in my head, waiting for you to reopen suggestions, haha. How do you think the Origins Companions + Halsin, Rolan, Dammon, and Zevlor would react if they found out that Tav had been hiding a very serious injury from them? The kind of injury where Tav is convinced that they're fine and they don't want to worry anyone with something they can handle on their own, especially the people they care most for, but as they try to ignore the injury it only gets worse until it's potentially life threatening and they can't keep up the facade anymore. I will leave it up to you whether or not Tav and the other individual are in a romantic relationship. I think both ways have potential for wonderful angst 😆

ooohhh noooooo! but also oh yes, LOVE this sort of angst lol. written as if you have had an infection come on from an injury. this is gonna be a long list so let's buckle up...

Astarion

really tries to hide his panic but fails miserably.

can't help but start snapping - how could you keep something like this from him?

you try to give your excuses but he waves them away, angry, but mostly because he's terrified that he might have lost you.

if he has any healing potions he helps you take them, if he doesn't he immediately... sources some from somewhere.

holds you as tight as he dares, worried that he will aggravate the injury otherwise.

as you begin to heal and drift off to sleep he spends the whole night watching you rest, making sure that you're still breathing, still safe. doesn't mind when you cuddle up to him in the night, sleepily.

Gale

curses himself for not noticing your condition. he's a wizard, damn it! he's meant to be bloody perceptive.

wishes for the first time ever that he didn't just know wizard spells. wishes he knew how to heal, too.

makes you as comfortable as he can while he finds a book about what he can do for an infected wound, probably swallowing his pride and going to Shadowheart if it's bad enough.

you manage a weak, "Gale, you don't have to--", and he cuts you off, "if you're going to insist that I don't have to look after you, I'm telling you that I do."

fixes you something to help with the pain and infection, makes sure you drink it all despite the horrid taste, then tucks you into his bedroll to let you rest.

when you go to reach out and cuddle him he slips into your arms, presses his lips to your hair, and whispers as you fall asleep about how much you scared him. about how he'd never be able to lose you.

Lae'zel

only realises how unwell you are when you fall over mid-journey.

"tsk'va! why did you hide the extent of your injuries from me?"

hauls you onto her back and carries you back to camp, muttering about your foolishness the whole time.

makes you comfortable in her tent and uses her knowledge of githyanki medicine to help start healing you.

it isn't comfortable as she works on your infection but for the first time you feel her hands being soft rather than vicious.

"you should not have kept this from me." "I know. I'm sorry." "hm. ridiculous thing. zhak vo'n'fynh duj."

goes and intimidates the camp into being quiet so you can rest. it works. this is the nicest she's ever been to you. you could get used to it.

Shadowheart

obviously this is not a huge problem for her, but she is still worried that it got so far without her noticing.

immediately heals you, pouring far too many spell slots into your body in order to get it up and running again.

it helps, immediately breaking the fever you've been nursing, and the touch of Shadowheart's hand to your face is cooling and reassuring.

"lady shar teaches us to embrace our pain... but not like this. you should have known better. you could have died."

her hand slips down to cup your cheek, you cover it with one of your own. she's telling you off but you can tell it's because she cares.

"I'm sorry that I scared you." "I know. don't do it again."

she smiles and the ache in your heart is lifted, too.

Wyll

panics.

you collapse on day in camp and he immediately calls on the others for help, not so proud as to be unable to admit when something is out of his knowledge. he is not a healer. he needs help.

he manages to catch you in his arms as you tumble, hugging you close to his chest while magic is worked or a healer checks you over.

lets out a breath he didn't realise he was holding when you begin to stabilise.

helps you back to your tent to rest, gently chiding you but letting you know that he's glad you're alright.

when your hand weakly comes up to touch him, he indulges you in a kiss to let you know how relieved he is.

constantly watching you on the battlefield from that moment on. if he can help it, you'll never be hurt again.

Karlach

another panicker.

scoops you up in her arms and holds you to her chest, running to the tent of the nearest healer in camp - or, if you're in the city, kicking down the door of a local doctor.

begging the healer to check you over, but is reluctant to let you go. if she stops holding you it's like she's relinquishing control and that scares the life out of her.

you're healed and she feels you start to stir in her arms, peppering you with kisses of relief, choking through her tears that you're never to scare her like that again.

carries you back home, even if you're totally capable of walking. she just wants to make sure you're okay.

Halsin

sternly disappointed that you didn't tell him, but more annoyed that he didn't notice something was wrong himself. how could he not see how out of balance with nature you were?

squirrels you away to his tent to heal you, make you soothing and medicinal teas, his big hands over the source of the infection.

you burrow into his touch, into his chest, and you end up sitting in his lap as he heals you.

he wants to tell you off a little, but is more relieved that you're alright. encourages you to share all your burdens with him.

kisses you on the forehead, then on the mouth when he's sure you're strong enough for it not to knock you flat.

Dammon

my poor boy is just a blacksmith, so though he doesn't exactly panic, he does scoop you up and try to find a healer as soon as he can.

waits quietly and nervously as you are examined, silently cursing himself for being too busy to see how you were hurt. he's meant to be better than this. he's meant to love you, how didn't he notice?

when you come to he can't stop apologising, and it takes several of your kisses to soothe him and tell him it was not his fault but yours.

he makes you promise that you'll always tell him when you're hurt. has you look into his eyes and swear it.

he can't do much on the battlefield but he can protect you where he can.

Rolan

another one cursing that he doesn't know healing spells.

"you aren't meant to die, gods damn it! you're meant to be strong... what good am I if I can't keep you safe..."

rushes you to the best doctor in Baldur's Gate. pays for all the treatment that you could need. holds your hand at your bedside for your entire recovery... until you come back to consciousness, of course, at which point he just starts telling you off for being stupid enough to get into his mess in the first place.

you grab him by the collar and drag him down for a kiss. that finally shuts him up. but he never lets you forget how foolish you were.

Zevlor

practical but still worried about you.

you collapse in the field and he finds a safe place to hide the both of you from dangerous eyes, using his Lay on Hands ability to channel his magic into healing.

you try to apologise but a finger to your lips silences you, and all you can do is watch in quiet wonder as he burns the infection out with his Paladin's light.

when you're better he gently chides you. tells you that you have people relying on your leadership, and that a problem shared means there are more heads working on how to fix it.

when he sees how sorry you are lets you cuddle into him. when you say you'll repay him, he insists your happiness and well-being is enough for an old warrior like him.

does take the kiss you offer, though. he's been wanting to do that for a while...

[skygemspeaks]

fic concept where xie lian, early into his second banishment, finds out that if he goes to offers prayers at one of mu qing or feng xin's temples, they will always inevitably show up to see him, each time in a different form and pretending not to know who he is

they think they're being SO slick, but xie lian always manages to clock them immediately, because they're not very good actors and because he knows them better than he knows himself. he doesn't say anything though because he's afraid to scare them off. they'll usually hang around to talk to him for a few hours, and it's just. it's nice. to not be alone for a little while. to know that they still care, even a little bit.

(he knows they don't care about him, not anymore, not after all he's done. he knows that their need to keep tabs on him is probably due to a lingering sense of loyalty to the crown prince they had once loved so dearly, the crown prince who had died long ago. he tries not to think about that)

after he ascends for the third time, he wonders if either of them will come talk to him, as themselves for once. they don't. he tries not to be too disappointed by it.

then, he's tasked to take care of the ghost groom on mount yujun, and then nan feng and fu yao show up as volunteers to aid him in his quest, and xie lian doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. he wonders if it's just going to be like this from now on. he decides not to say anything though because even this is better than nothing.

then they come with him to banyue pass, and when they return to puqi shrine afterwards, he invites them to stay for dinner.

they both decline, ready to make their escape, and xie lian can't help it. he starts crying.

they both immediately freeze in their tracks, horrified, before immediately rushing to him and starting to fuss over him, asking if he's okay, if he's gotten hurt.

(it's at this point that hua cheng decides to make a discreet exit for them to have this conversation in private)

"i-i'm sorry!" xie lian sobs, tripping over his words as he desperately wipe at his tears. "i just-i just thought it would be different after i ascended again!"

fu yao and nan feng are both baffled. "you thought what would be different?" asks fu yao hesitantly.

xie lian flails his arms between the three of them. "THIS!" he wails out loud. "but now you're LEAVING again and-and-and you won't even show me your real faces so i can apologize to you properly for everything i did wrong!"

nan feng and fu yao feng xin and mu qing turn to stare at each other in mounting horror as those words sink in.

"Your highness, you knew this whole time???" demands feng xin, his face beet red from embarrassment.

"why didn't you say anything?" mu qing hisses through his teeth, turning his head in an attempt to hide his mortification.

"because i thought if i did, you wouldn't come back!" xie lian replies, still sobbing

feng xin and mu qing both lock gazes, having a wordless argument as they try and figure what to do now that their covers have been blown.

in the end, feng xin is the one that gives in first, taking a deep breath as he gathers up his courage and lets his disguise drop. he steps forward, and pulls xie lian into a rough embrace.

"your highness, you have nothing to apologize for," he says. "we're the ones that did you wrong."

xie lian is still sobbing, but he's clinging onto feng xin like his life depends on it, and he's shaking his head in denial.

"you both stayed by my side longer than i deserved!" he insists. "if i had just listened to mu qing and swallowed my pride, things wouldn't have gotten as bad as they did!"

now mu qing steps up, and though his face is still flushed red, he looks determined as he joins the embrace.

"regardless of who was right or wrong, that didn't give me the right to treat you the way i did that day, your highness....i'm...s-sorry."

xie lian shakes his head again, ready to argue, but mu qing stubbornly speaks over him.

"the reason we came to you in disguise was because we were too ashamed to show our faces to you. we hope your highness will forgive us."

xie lian insists that there's nothing to forgive, and in the end, feng xin and mu qing both end up staying for dinner anyways, though they're saved from having to eat any of xie lian's cooking when hua cheng returns from his impromptu walk with some food that had been given to him by the neighbours for helping them with some tasks while he was out.

[theerurishipper]

Superbat Week Day 3: Alien Biology

For @superbatweek2024

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how exactly is it that you fly?”

Clark looks at Bruce, eyebrow raised quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“Well,” Bruce starts, gesturing at Clark’s form as the man in question happily eats Chocos out of the box, “how exactly does it work? J’onn, for instance, levitates with the help of his telekinetic abilities. It would be useful to understand how it works for you.”

Clark then gives him a huge grin, eyes twinkling with either amusement or the option Bruce hates most: mischief. “It’s because I actually have invisible wings!”

“Clark.”

“No, it’s true,” Clark insists, eyes wide. “Kryptonian biology is very different from most species, you know.”

“Clark.”

“Fine, fine,” Clark huffs. “It’s no fun trying to pull the wool over your eyes, you know? You could throw me a bone every now and then.”

“Of course,” Bruce admits. “But where’s the fun in that?”

Clark throws his Chocos at him, grinning.

--

“Hey, Spooky!”

Bruce turns begrudgingly at the grating sound of Hal Jordan’s voice. He supresses the part of him that is curious. After all, Hal usually— and thankfully— avoids him for the most part. It gives Bruce a lot more peace in his day, but also has the unintended and unwelcome side effect of making him interested whenever the man swallows his pride to approach him.

“Did you know about this? Did you know and just decide to keep this from everyone?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

Hal rolls his eyes. “I’m talking about Supes, man.” He looks around the empty corridor, and leans in closer to Bruce, voice dropping to a whisper.

“Did you know that he has invisible wings?”

It must be an effect of all the idiocy in the air around him, but it’s almost like Bruce can feel his thoughts coming to a screeching halt in his head.

“I… he what?”

The first thing that occurs to him when his brain begins to function again is that Clark is probably way prouder of this idea than he has any right to be. And apparently, for good reason, because Hal seems completely taken in.

Bruce hates being wrong. Especially about this.

“Yeah! He sorta mentioned it in passing… but damn, you think you know a guy, huh?”

Bruce says nothing. He simply watches Hal stand before him, rubbing his head in consternation. And in his fugue state, Bruce makes one of the most questionable decisions of his life.

“I knew.”

“What?” Hal shrieks. “You knew? And didn’t mention this to anyone?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell.”

Hal frowns. “I guess…” Then he sighs, running a hand through his hair, frustration visible on his face. “I guess you’d know that, huh? And I can safely say that it’s the truth, cause you’re allergic to pranks and fun.”

“Goodbye, Jordan.”

--

By the end of the day, the whole Watchtower knows of Superman’s magical invisible wings. Bruce can hear the poorly hushed conversations flooding through the entire satellite.

“Batman said he had them, so it must be true!”

“Yeah, he hates fun, he’d never go along with it if it was a prank!”

If only they knew.

--

“—And now people keep asking if they can feel them!” Clark huffs, head resting on Bruce’s lap.

“Mm.”

“It was funny at first, and it still is… but now, I think it’s falling apart.”

Bruce pats his forehead. “All pranks come to an end. It’s an immutable fact of life.”

“It’s just too good to be over so soon!”

Bruce wisely keeps his thoughts about the quality of Clark’s pranks to himself. Instead, he looks up from his laptop to observe the silent pout on his face, and makes a few calculated decisions. Then he picks up one of Alfred’s cookies and tosses it at Clark’s face.

“What’s this for?” asks Clark, confusedly.

“I’m throwing this at you, in lieu of a bone.”

--

Bruce has faced many dangers throughout his career as a superhero. Dangerous criminals, the best martial artists in the world, magic users, and even literal demons. But this might be the hardest thing he’s ever done.

“You want me to make Clark a pair of…” Zatanna trails off, and looks back down at the piece of paper he’d handed her. “…invisible attachable magic wings?”

“Yes.”

Zatanna looks up at him, looking absolutely miserable.

“What did you do this time?”

Bruce bristles and glares. “Nothing.”

“If you’re in the doghouse, it’s best you fix whatever you’ve done on your own—”

“It’s not an apology present. I’m helping him with a project.” Zatanna looks mildly curious for a split second, and realization dawns on her face.

“So his invisible wings aren’t real?” she whispers, looking stricken.

Self-control. Bruce is a master of self-control. He will not raise his palm to slap it against his forehead. He will not give into that ever-present urge.

“Of course not.”

“Damn,” she murmurs, looking away as though revaluating her entire existence. Luckily for her, so is Bruce.

But she bounces back fairly quickly, which is only a credit to her character. “All right, I’m down.”

“Thank you.”

--

“You know,” Zatanna insists as she rolls up her sleeves theatrically, wand already held in her hand, “I’ve never seen you go the extra mile for a prank before. You really love him, don’t you?”

“…Just do the spell.”

--

Clark’s wings are a big hit. The Hawks are especially thrilled. Bruce loses just a little more faith in everyone’s competency per second.

But seeing Clark’s excited face as he beats his invisible wings and bamboozles everybody within arm’s reach makes it all worth it. Not that he would ever admit as much to the man himself.

But unfortunately (or fortunately, if Alfred is to be believed), Clark knows him too well for all that.

“How hard was it to ask Zatanna to make these for me?” When Bruce doesn’t reply, Clark just grins, his arms coming to wrap around Bruce from the back. “I bet it was hard. I know how much you hate asking for favours.”

“They aren’t permanent, so enjoy them while they last.”

“Sure, sure.” Clark stops speaking, and the Batcave is left in its natural state of silence.

“Thank you, Bruce.”

Bruce doesn’t turn to look at him. “It’s just a pair of wings. Zatanna made them in five seconds.”

“That’s not what I mean. I just—” Clark leans in closer, pressing himself against Bruce’s back, and Bruce can feel his warmth flooding through him.

“This was the silliest thing ever, but you went along with it anyway.”

“Clark.” Bruce turns himself around in Clark’s arms, and lays a hand on his face. “It’s not silly. If you found it amusing, who am I to get in your way?”

“I was so sure you found it… what’s the word you used? Juvenile?”

Bruce gives him one of his lesser, weaker glares. “And now you’ve decided that I’m an expert in comedy? After all the time I’ve spent projecting the opposite?” Clark just laughs, quietly, subdued in a way that leaves Bruce feeling profoundly uneasy.

“I guess…”

Bruce pats his head, ruffling through his hair. “Since when have you cared so much about what I think?”

Clark just looks at him, and then sighs, dropping his head down onto Bruce’s shoulder. “I always care about what you think,” he mutters. “Your opinion means the world to me.”

Bruce’s first thought is to tell Clark that his faith is misplaced. That Bruce isn’t as worthy of admiration or respect as Clark seems to think. That Clark is giving him far too much credit.

But there’s something in the way Clark says those words, quiet and heavy, that renders him speechless, unable to say anything; something that leaves him wishing that it could be true. And so, he just stands there, in Clark’s embrace, trying to convey all the things he can’t say.

It’s Clark who breaks the silence, obviously. “You know… if I told you I had invisible wings right now, that wouldn’t be a lie…”

“I suppose so.”

“I guess I am different from you today. Biologically. Even on the outside.”

“I can’t argue with that.”

 “So…” Clark lifts his head up to look at him, expression positively sultry. “There’s a lot of fun we could have with these. Don’t you think so?”

Bruce just looks into his eyes, and raises a hand to run his finger along the soft surface of Zatanna’s magical wings. He drags his hand back, and rests both his arms around Clark’s neck.

“Let it never be said that I don’t know how to have a good time.”

Clark laughs, and kisses him.

--

“You know,” Clark says, conversationally, idly messing with Bruce’s hair. “I might not have actually had magic wings, but you know what I do have?”

“A penchant for silly pranks?”

Bruce looks up to find Clark waggling his eyebrows, mayhem already gathering in his eyes. “Well, yes,” Clark says, “but I was thinking more along the lines of horns that can detect lies. What do you think?”

Bruce just sighs, and buries his face in Clark’s shoulder. “I can’t lie to your horns. That’s a terrible idea.”

“So…”

“Fine. Let’s do it.”

---

Read on AO3

[wonbin-truther]

˚⊹ ᰔೀ dream boyfriend: incoming ˚⊹ ᰔೀ ╰┈➤ friends dont kiss

you swung your legs back and forth on the bench and hugged jaemin's sweater closer to your body. you sighed as you pressed the screen of your phone. the time 7:30 glowed from in front of the picture of you and your friends. your pride kept you from texting the canadian male to ask where he was so you waited. you waited until 8:00 showed on your phone and your patience started wearing thin.

"hey," a deep voice spoke up. you looked toward mark lee who was walking towards you. you stood up, stuffing your hands into the pockets of the sweater. mark was in pj pants and a grey hoodie. if you squinted closely there was a purple mark tucked underneath the neckline but you paid no mind to it. it was currently the least of your worries as the man in front of you spoke up, "what did you want to talk about?"

"you're late," your tone was flat. you stared into his eyes and he stared back for a bit before breaking eye contact. "sorry" he refused to meet your eyes. you let out a laugh, "sorry? that's all you have? i knew this was a bad idea. im just wasting my time just like you've been doing for months."

mark scoffed, eyebrows furrowed, "if i remember correctly you wanted to meet to talk." "if i remember correctly you were the one who said 7:00. yet now its 8:15 and here we are," you had to push back the tears that were about to fall. you swallowed hard, "im over this mark. im done."

"done with what?"

"all this," you began, "what even were we?"

"friends."

the word stung every part of you. you felt it come out of marks mouth and enter you, just for it to get stuck in the pit of your stomach.

"friends?," another laugh came out of you, this time sadder then before. "just friends? really?" mark nodded, "friends. that's it. what else would we be?" "well last time i checked friends dont kiss," your voice was harsh. it took mark back a bit. you were always pretty soft spoken around him. he had never heard you angry, other than the times you spoke to him about somi. he remained quiet, giving you the room to continue. "and after everything. somi? really? after everything i told you?," tears started to slip down your cheeks and mark wanted nothing but to reach out and wipe them, but he knew that was no longer his place. so he kept his hands glued to the pocket of his hoodie and watched as you wiped them away yourself.

"what did i do to deserve this? did i do something to wrong you? why somi?" you choked out. mark stayed quiet. "say something. please," you shouted through your tears.

"she isnt that bad."

you rolled your eyes, "fuck you. seriously. that's what you have to tell me? she isnt that bad?" "maybe if you gave her a ch-" you cut him off before he could end his sentence. "shes my cousin, mark. my cousin who bullied me and blamed my moms death on me. or did you forget that?" mark kept his gaze low, kicking the rocks under his feet. "you know what, have fun with her. the two of you deserve each other. dont fucking talk to me ever again, asshole."

"wait yn. im-," mark tried but it fell upon deaf ears as you turned away from him and started walking in the direction of your dorm.

mark stood in the same spot for a few minutes after you left processing what he just did. maybe he had taken it too far with somi; but the devil on his shoulder spoke much louder in his ear as it told him that you were the one who started this. maybe somi had pushed him too far, he was fighting with his friends and now he had effectively lost you, but all the voice told him was that they don't support him. he stayed with his thoughts before turning and making his own way back home.

"hey howd it go?" jaemin asked as you pushed open the door. a frown quickly showed on his face as he saw your puffy eyes and wet tears still on your flushed cheeks. you shook your head as sobs wracked your body. jaemin was quick to rush to your side, taking you into his arms and letting you sob into his chest. his hand found its way to your hair, running his fingers through it. "princess?" jaemin pulled away as you began to calm down. you hummed in response, looking up at him. "you okay?" he cupped your cheeks and a small smile formed on your face. "yea im good."

mark pushed open the door to his empty dorm. he flipped on the lights and stared at the messy room. hyuck was god knows where and somi .... he finally checked his phone for any notifications fron the blonde girl. nothing. maybe mark did fuck up.

previous - main - next

synopsis! it wasnt your fault mark was the first profile to appear on your instagram! and it was most definitely not your fault when you told your annoying older cousins that mark lee, the captain of your unis soccer team, was your boyfriend and somehow got him invited to the next family reunion...

tags! (closed) @haedgaf @onlyhyunjin @yumjsss @mmjhh1998 @nctrawberries @multifandomania @hyuoonp @kittydollzz @bathilda @413ktz @alethea-moon @meowmarkie @dojaejunging @urlocalbeaner5 @nanaxwi @lvrholic @sunghoonsgfreal @jakeshuneybby @nosungluv @evilsailorsenshi @calumsfringe @candied-czennie @haesungie @tommina @woonagi-lemon @jovialdelusionbouquet @soheendo @vantxx95 @markeroolee @soobsung @tynlvr @morkiee @sehunniepot @starfilledgaze @100203shong @pickmedolls @xcosmi @nneteyamss @slayhaechan

[happy74827]

The Perfect Gift of Appreciation

[Rudy Cooper (technically) x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Being severely injured with zero money to back up your bills, you decide to take an emergency visit to the only doctor you personally know.

WC: 2897

Category: Hurt/Comfort, Slight Fluff,

A lot of you actually liked my Brian fic (love y’all), so I wanted to make another for you guys. I’m sad that there’s still none 😔😔

『••✎••』

He was absolutely pissed. Granted, he didn’t actually tell you, but the way his face fell into utter disappointment when he finally answered his door was all the information you needed. You couldn’t help but frown, your hand moving to cover your poorly bandaged arm as you watched him.

It made sense; the man had just come home from his shift, and his outfit was still intact with his suit and lab coat, with exhaustion weighing on his eyes. The man looked downright miserable, and with you looking like a wet rat from the rain and the blood seeping from your wound, he couldn't imagine a less welcome sight.

You both just stood there staring at one another, the rain pounding against the umbrella over your head. The wind was picking up, and you knew it was going to storm harder. You really couldn’t stand the look he was giving you.

"Hey, Rudy," You managed out, swallowing hard as the pain began to seep into your voice. You endured quite a lot to get here, and you weren’t about to let your pride show now.

The man before you let out a tired sigh, leaning against the doorframe as he closed his eyes.

"You do realize what time it is, don't you?" He questioned the usual cheerfulness of his voice, which was replaced with annoyance. It hurt a bit to hear, but you didn't blame him. It’s quite rude to show up unannounced, and it was even worse considering you showed up after 2 am.

Your eyes averted downwards, feeling ashamed for even showing up here. The last thing you wanted was to bother him, especially at a time like this.

Yet, you couldn’t go anywhere else. Money wasn’t quite flowing well in your area, and it was bad enough to where you had no insurance. You were a simple college student, working odd jobs here and there while balancing school and the like.

The job you had recently obtained was a janitor position for a nearby grocery store, and things seemed pretty good for a bit. It was not enough to pay those outrageous health bills, but it was getting you by.

"I need a favor... I know it's not exactly the best time to be asking, but please, just listen—" You began, the words spilling out of your mouth just as you’ve rehearsed them a million times.

Before you could continue, Rudy opened his eyes and looked down at you with a small frown. He already noticed the way you held your arm and the way you kept glancing at it. He knew what this was about; he knew the moment he opened the door and saw the desperation in your eyes.

Your name fell from his lips, drained and tired as he rubbed his forehead. He was silent for a bit, just as you were, and when he finally looked back up, his frown grew deeper.

"You seriously can’t afford to get simple treatment? How do you even know if I have the right supplies to fix something like this up, huh?"

You didn’t reply, merely biting down on your lip as you looked away. It was true, you weren't sure. Yet, Rudy had always been so kind to you, always willing to offer his help and support when you needed it.

The man sighed, closing his eyes as he ran his fingers through his hair. He couldn’t believe he was doing this; he had to wake up in a few hours, and now he had to deal with this.

The only thing keeping him from saying no was the look you gave him.

You weren’t one to beg or ask for help. You usually dealt with things on your own, and when you couldn’t, you were willing to work it off. He admired that about you, how you weren't the type to depend on others.

The fact that you were even here, soaked to the bone and asking for his help, proved to him just how serious the situation was.

You had no other choice, and he knew that.

So, without a word, Rudy stepped aside and gestured for you to enter. The relief was immediate, and before he could blink, you were inside, the sound of the rain slowly fading behind you.

The warmth of his home was a great contrast from the outside, and you couldn’t help but sigh contently as he threw his coat off and led you down the hall.

His duffel was still beside the couch, a sign that he had just returned moments before. Somehow, it made you feel worse, knowing that you interrupted his much-needed rest.

You followed Rudy through the living room, landing in the kitchen where the door to his basement was. You were about to follow him downwards, side-stepping past him, but a hand slammed against the doorframe just before you could.

Startled, you looked up at Rudy, a brow raised at the sudden stop. He was staring at you, his expression unreadable, and it made you grow uncomfortable.

"Stay here. I’ll be up in a minute, okay?" His voice changed slightly, sounding far more awake than before.

"Can’t you just do it down there? I mean, that’s where all your stuff is, right?"

Why go through all the trouble of bringing everything upstairs?

He shook his head, his lips pulling into a tight line. It looked like he was thinking something over, and when he finally spoke, he seemed hesitant.

"Just trust me, okay? Just wait here. I promise I won't be long."

You frowned, wanting to question him, but Rudy was already moving down the stairs. The door shut behind him, and the next thing you knew, you were left alone in the kitchen.

Confused, you couldn't help but stare at the door.

Why didn’t he want you down there? That was pretty odd behavior for someone who loved to brag about his work. You couldn’t recall a time when Rudy wasn’t so open about what he did.

So why the sudden change?

You didn’t want to question it, and instead, you hummed and sat down in the chair. You could hear his footsteps echo downstairs, and you waited patiently for him to return.

The sound of the basement door opening was almost instant, and when Rudy entered, you noticed the big medical box in his arms. You couldn’t help but watch the man walk around his kitchen, his movements slow and calculated as he made his way over to you.

Rudy placed the box onto the table, popped it open, and began to pull out the gloves, rubbing alcohol, and gauze. The man grabbed a chair and pulled it across from you, and as he did, he glanced up at you and smiled.

Your mind, however, was still elsewhere.

"Hiding a body down there, or something? You were taking forever, know..." You mumbled, your gaze shifting from the box to Rudy.

He chortled at the comment, glancing up momentarily to give you a small smile before resuming his task of pulling out the medical supplies.

He didn’t say anything other than the comments about your wound. How’d you get it? If it hurt, how long ago did it happen…

You know, the typical doctor questions.

Rudy took your arm in his, his hold gentle as he carefully removed the cloth that was once your makeshift bandage. You winced, hissing as the material peeled away some of the dried blood, and it caused Rudy to glance up at you apologetically.

As the cloth finally came off, Rudy didn’t make any type of comment. He didn't react to the deep cut on your arm other than the occasional flicker of his eyes. To you, it was absolutely jarring. It looked so much worse than you expected, and you couldn’t help but glance away as the man poured the alcohol onto the gauze.

He must’ve been used to this kind of thing, considering he didn’t so much as bat an eye.

The alcohol felt cold against your skin, and you bit your tongue to prevent the pain from escaping. Rudy didn't say a word as he cleaned up the wound, and you took the time to glance at the man.

Rudy was focused, his eyes narrowed as he concentrated on your wound. He was careful but quick, and his actions were precise and methodical. The way he moved was almost fascinating, and before you knew it, he was done with that part.

Rudy tossed the now bloodied gauze into the trash can that was temporarily beside the table and then reached for the next item.

The numbing shot.

The man paused, his gaze lifting from the supplies and up to your face. Rudy, the sweet and caring guy, had a very different face whenever he worked. He had his usual soft and comforting smile, but the way he constantly looked at your arm was so… cold.

He almost looked bored.

You blinked, and suddenly, he was staring at you, his brows raised.

You stared, unable to find the words, but the moment he spoke, the spell was broken.

Rudy gave you a sheepish smile, gesturing the shot in his hands. He warned you about the small prickle, gesturing to the shot in his hands, the prickle that’s never just a prick of the skin. It’s always quite painful.

The needle was tiny, but the feeling of the sensation entering your body was enough to make you grit your teeth. You felt your face grow warm, the embarrassment washing over you as the pain became a dull ache.

It didn't last long, and soon Rudy was shaking it around, supposedly making the numbing effect act faster.

Then, the waiting game. He told you around five to ten minutes, depending on your tolerance, and that's how you both ended up sitting across from one another in silence.

Rudy was tapping his fingers against the table, the only sound filling the air. You couldn’t help but notice the dark circles under his eyes, the way his shoulders sagged, and the occasional yawn that escaped him.

"I’m sorry," You said, finally breaking the silence. His facial expression didn’t help you feel better, the frown on his lips growing deeper as he shook his head.

"Don’t be sorry." He mumbled, his eyes closing briefly as he inhaled sharply. "Truth be told, I actually despise apologies. And it's not like you did this to yourself on purpose, anyways…"

That was true, you supposed. Still, the guilt wouldn't leave you alone.

When the man didn’t receive a reply, Rudy looked at you with a tired smile. His hands moved over the medical box, and with a slight push, it was out of the way and no longer between you.

Rudy then leaned forward, placing his elbows against the table, and folded his hands beneath his chin.

"You know, I miss this."

You blinked, tilting your head at him as a soft smile formed on your lips. "Me being clumsy and annoying?"

He chuckled, a sound that brought warmth to your heart, and the exhaustion was temporarily forgotten.

Rudy shook his head, and as he did, his smile faded and was replaced with something a little more sad. "Skin. The human body. Blood. The life force. I just miss it, I guess... I love what I do, don't get me wrong, but it can be a little boring at times.. It gets repetitive. The smiles are nice, the gratitude of those I treat, but sometimes I can't help but think about other things. More exciting things, y'know?"

"Suturing my arm is exciting to you? That's pretty weird, Rudy, and that's coming from me…"

You were only half-joking, and Rudy was aware. The man was silent for a moment, his gaze averted as his smile slowly returned.

A soft chuckle left him, and he leaned back against the chair, crossing his arms against his chest.

His eyes closed, and the smile on his face grew.

It wasn’t a sad smile, nor was it happy. It was a smile that said many things but nothing at all.

When his eyes finally opened, they were different. The smile was gone, and so was the warmth in his expression.

The smile he wore now was a familiar one, and the glint in his eyes was one you knew too well.

The box was moved back in front of him, and with a swift movement, the scissors and tweezers were in his hands.

Then, the conversation was over, and so was the waiting period. He did check to see if it was numb, but the moment you confirmed that it was, he went right back to work.

It was silent for the most part; you felt no pain, and Rudy was careful as he did his job. It was going by rather quickly, and with the silence that fell between the two of you, you couldn’t help but look down at your arm.

He was already halfway done. The numbing was working like a charm, and with how quickly Rudy was going, it was almost like a superpower. For a man not in his element, he seemed like he was pretty damn well in his element.

Maybe he did have a body hidden downstairs. Give him some practice.

Rudy stopped for a moment, the sudden pause causing you to lift your gaze and look at him. He was holding a new needle in his hand, a black string-like material in the other.

He was staring at your arm, the concentration on his face strong as he held the items up. It was a rather odd sight, and you couldn't help but lean closer to get a better look.

Rudy blinked, his focus snapping up at you, and he gave you a lopsided grin.

You watched him for a moment, the man simply staring back at you with the same grin, and after a moment of silence, he put the tools down.

"And, presto." He said, his grin widening, and before you knew it, he was packing up the box.

Damn, that was fast.

He wrapped the wound in an actual bandage, moving at the speed of light, and before you could even comprehend what was happening, Rudy was already finished.

The man got up, stretching out his back as he did, and he glanced down at you with a soft smile.

"I don’t keep any antibiotics around here, but a simple store trip can fix that. You don’t need anything fancy, just a simple infection control, and you should be good to go. It doesn't seem to be too bad, and if it gets any worse, then we can look into that later... at the ER."

"Right." You mumbled, not having the energy to protest. The sarcasm, the jokes, the humor... everything was gone. You were drained, and now that the whole ordeal was over, you felt yourself slouching against the chair.

You looked up at Rudy, and before you could speak, he was already talking.

"Don’t worry about it. I’ll drop you home tomorrow morning before I go in. I’m seconds away from passing out, and you look like you're about to fall over."

You nodded, a silent thank you falling from your lips. Rudy gave you a nod in response and then gestured towards the hallway.

It wasn’t too long after that you found yourself walking down the hallway with a spare pillow and blanket. The guest bedroom was empty, and when you entered, the lights were off.

You didn’t question it, and instead, you set the pillow and blanket on the bed and made yourself comfortable. He said he used this room a lot, but somehow, it looked so untouched. It wasn’t dusty, but the way the room was set up proved that it wasn't often used.

Still, you were far too exhausted to give it a second thought.

Rudy walked past the doorway, a pair of keys in his hands as he waved them around. You heard him mention something about locking up and going to sleep, and after he left, the hall was silent.

And then, after a few minutes, the house was silent.

As you lay there, a wave of exhaustion washed over you. Your arm was still numb, and you felt nothing as you gently placed your hand against the bandage.

There was no pain, no nothing. It was just ugly, and yet you were grateful.

You didn’t even know Rudy for that long. A mutual friend introduced you to one another, and ever since then, it has been a whirlwind of events.

Especially due to your overbearing clumsiness.

But tonight? What a true blessing.

You couldn’t thank him enough. Maybe you could make him breakfast in the morning. That sounded like a decent enough gift.

Unless you happened to break his kitchen or yourself, you’d have to see how things played out.

And with that, you rolled over, your eyes slowly drifting shut.

You were out within a minute. And fortunately for Rudy, so were his neighbors.

It was a rather quiet night, after all, and with his soundproof walls, no one could hear a thing.

Even with the preparation for the next present for his precious Ken, the perfect gift of appreciation, no one could hear the sounds of his true work.

Well, no one except you.

[@ghostheartbeat, @numetalnerd2007] Here’s your tag, besties! Go wild! ☺️☺️

I hope you guys liked the "realistic" approach I took here lmao. I felt really devious about this plot 😈

[ho3smadd]

hello! i see you’re taking requests and want to know if you can write a lando x reader where the reader is from miami and bumps into lando somehow during the miami gp where he got his first win? how they get together can be entirely up to you and i can’t wait to see your writing ! :)

The very first night

A/n… Hey sure sorry if this is bad I'm not used to writing one-shots anymore and the last time I wrote I was 13 and I had an imagines book on wattpad so thank you for bearing with me. If you have any tips please comment them<3

Summary… the reader and her father have been fan of f1 for as long she can remember and they finally get to go to a race where she bumps into lando

Parings… Lando Norris x reader

Warnings… mentions of alcohol and clubbing

Masterlist

The Miami sun was setting in a blaze of pink and orange, casting a warm glow over the city that still buzzed with the excitement of the Grand Prix. The streets were alive with fans, their faces flushed with the thrill of the race, voices loud with animated discussions of every twist and turn.

Y/n and her father strolled through the crowd, their footsteps light with the shared joy of a fantastic day. Ever since she was a little girl, y/n had loved Formula 1, a passion she inherited from her father. They had spent hours and hours watching races together and their love of f1 grew as she did. Today in particular they had witnessed something extraordinary: Lando Norris wining his first ever Grand Prix.

"He was amazing, dad" y/n said, her eyes sparkling as she spoke about her favorite driver "I'm so happy that my first Grand Prix was such an impactful one"

Mr l/n nodded, pride and excitement radiating from him. "Moments like these are exactly what got me into this sport."

They turned the corner into a quieter street, leaving behind the busy crowd. Y/n's thoughts were still on the race, replaying the moment when Lando crossed the finish line. Her admiration for the driver was at an all-time high.

As they continued walking, y/n was distracted by her excitement after witnessing such a monumental race that she didn't notice the figure in front of her until it was too late. She stumbled backward, her feet tangling together.

Strong arms wrapped around her, steadying her before she could fall "whoa, easy there!" A voice said, filled with a mix of amusement and concern.

Y/n looked up, her heart pounding as she found herself staring into the eyes of none other than Lando Norris. Her favorite driver. His dark hair was messy and his face still wore the faint traces of exhaustion and exhilaration from the race.

Neither of them said a word until her father broke the tension. " you know honey, usually you get to know the guy before you fall for them." He said shaking his head and chuckling at his daughters usual clumsiness.

Lando let out a small laugh, unable to contain himself and y/n wished in that moment that she was 6 feet under.

"Are you okay?" Lando asked turning himself back to the girl.

"Yeah, I think so, no bruises, besides the one on my ego" y/n said giving him a small smile, wishing that her father would say something instead he was distracted by a phone call and disappeared.

"I'm sorry about that. I wasn't paying attention." Y/n looked down ,hoping the earth would swallow her whole.

"It's all good, happens to the best of us." Lando smiled, trying to ease the girl's obvious discomfort.

“Congratulations on your win,” she said, finally finding her voice again. “You were amazing out there.”

“Thanks,” he replied, his smile widening. “It still feels unreal. I’m Lando, by the way.”

“I know,” I said, laughing nervously. “I’m Y/n”

“Nice to meet you, Y/n,” he said. “So, what’s your plan for tonight? Celebrating?”

“Not really,” she admitted. “I was just heading to the hotel because my parents have plans. I don't have any big plans.”

Lando's eyes sparkled mischievously. “Well, that won’t do. How about you join me for some real celebration? I’ve got a VIP invite to a club downtown. It’ll be fun.”

Y/n hesitated for a moment, then thought, Why not? It was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. “Sure, why not? Let’s celebrate your win.”

He told her which club they would be celebrating at and they went their separate ways to get ready.

Soon it was time to go celebrate. She had already sent a text to her parents letting them know she would be out.

They made their way to one of Miami’s hottest nightclubs, the crowd parting as Lando led the way. Inside, the music was loud, the lights dazzling, and the atmosphere electric. People cheered and congratulated Lando as they moved through the crowd, finding a spot near the dance floor, by his friends and fellow racers.

She made small talk with his friends before Lando ordered drinks, and everyone toasted to his victory, the night unfolding in a whirlwind of laughter, dancing, and shared stories. The club’s energy was infectious, and for a while, it felt like they were the only two people in the world to enraptured by the feeling of their bodies pressed against each other, and too drunk to even think about anything else.

At one point Lando pulled her aside for a small break and more shots. " this is incredible," he said over the music. " I still can't believe it's me they are all celebrating." His smile never fading as his eyes twinkled in pride

"You deserve it. You were so incredible. I'm glad I bumped into you." She said, smiling at him gleefully

"Me too." He replied, his gaze locking with hers as he handed her a shot. "Here's to new friends and new victories." They downed the shots and headed back to the dance floor together.

They danced until the early hours, the night a blur of excitement and joy. As the club began to wind down, Lando and y/n found themselves outside, the cool Miami breeze a welcome relief.

“Thank you for an amazing night,” y/n said, feeling a little sad that the night was coming to an end.

“No, thank you,” Lando replied. “You made it unforgettable.”

They exchanged numbers, promising to keep in touch. As the girl watched him walk away, she couldn’t help but smile. She had set out for a quiet evening, but fate had other plans. And as she made her way to the hotel, she knew that this night and Lando Norris would always hold a special place in her heart.

[justporo]

Hey you :D

Here’s a request just to add your huge list for after vacation muahaha 💖

How do you think a slow, bickering romance with Astarion (kinda like Howl and Sophie) would go down.

Hey darling ❤️ You might’ve forgotten about this ask but I have not! I'm combining this with another one asking about where Astarion rejected Tav at first but then slowly fell for them.

Also haven't done one of this headcanon posts for a whole haven't we? Here we go:

Headcanons about Astarion slowly but surely falling in love with you (and how he pursues you)

Oh, it's all just a game for him, isn't it? At least at first. But this silly little jester didn't realise he was playing himself.

He might have rejected you at first (because he's a prick who has looked at the sun a little too long, let's be honest) but he quickly realises he can't take his mind off of you

You keep stirring the vampire's undead little heart and it scares him at first - and of course you had given up on it after that first hurtful rejection

But his crimson eyes start to never stray far from you, no matter if in battle or at camp: he can't tear his gaze from you - gods dammit, you're lovely!

It's in the way you always put others first, always have a kind word to spare, always a warm smile. How you laugh and how brave you are, how you bite your lip when you're lost deep in thought.

Quite frankly: a stake to his heart couldn't have been more effective.

But he realises another thing: he wants to be real with you, he wants to fall slowly with you - not a vicious thunderstorm but a soft, warm summer rain

And so Astarion begins to yearn in silence as you too can't keep your thoughts from turning around him often

It's painfully obvious to everyone around you how much the two of you are in love with each other; so much so that bets are being made in camp if you're gonna make it before you all reach the Gate

You notice that Astarion keeps sneaking around you like an adoring cat would: always a playful quip on the tip of his sharp tongue that you never take serious because... this Astarion we're talking about. "Oh my heart, aren't you even more blinding than the sun today" "Look who's blessing us with their grace and insight." "A copper for the thoughts in your pretty little head, darling."

Astarion doesn't know how to live the teasing out of his tone, maybe out of fear you might actually start taking him seriously; but if you would peel back the generous layer of faked sarcasm you'd find he's actually being serious

This man is downright smitten by you and you don't realise it as he achingly yearns for you - so much the others can barely take it

Sometimes you find little gifts on your pillow when you wake up: a sweet treat, snuck away from the others, a single blossom, a mysterious line of poetry - you are at a loss at where this comes from or if someone is playing with you

Meanwhile Astarion swallows his pride to regularly go to Wyll and ask his advice who... does help him but not without a haughty grin whenever he sees the lovesick vampire stroll over in his seemingly hopeless endeavour

Meanwhile you keep doing your utmost best to be at Astarion's side because you truly only want to help him and be happy and safe

Again: have mercy with the poor tortured soul, sometimes Astarion almost feels like he could combust on the spot if you give him one of your adorable lopsided smiles

When Moonrise and unpleasant people happen something in Astarion breaks, it all bursts out of him at once, overpowering even his terrible fear of rejection

The hug and tender first kiss you share that night tears both if your walls down.

You have not defeated the big bad enemy but something in your heart lightens knowing you have someone who will travel the road to whatever end with you

From there on out the two of you become even more unbearable in your pining for each other - meanwhile not trivial amounts of gold are passed between the other companions with quite some grumbling - but be assured: all of your friends are rooting for the two of you.

There we go, I love idiots in love with each other, hope you enjoyed!