#and I feel like I could go on forever with this

[simpjaes]

✘ WIP DIARY ── LAST NIGHT, I READ YOUR DIARY. (p.sh) ✘

Sunghoon has been trying be everything you need since your mother passed. A father, a friend, a therapist. You never really understood what your mother saw in him in the first place, if you’re being honest. He’s awkward, quiet, and typically used to keep to himself up until now. You’re impressed with his efforts by the time you’re entering into your senior year of college, though his entire demeanor towards you seems to have changed.  or the one where your step-father grows obsessed with you minute by minute. 

── step-dad /weirdo park sunghoon x afab reader  

── minors dni

── tags: sunghoon is in his 30s, reader is in her 20s so, age gap, step-cest, heartbreak, obsession, manipulation, coercion, stockholm syndrome-ish, fluff if he manipulates you as a reader lmfao, angst, smut. don't read this if you are easily triggered. ── side characters: heeseung as reader's ex boyfriend, jay as reader's closest friend

── !WARNINGS!: this work contains non-con, dub-con, and stalking behavior. your mom isn’t alive in this fic. warnings will be updated as i write.

── a/n: this one is gonna be a wild ride, that's all i gotta say.

LAST UPDATED: 12.22.24

⨯ est wordcount: 20k+ ⨯ current wordcount: 5.4k ⨯ est release date: tbd ⨯ taglist: my tag list is now closed due to the length.

playlist ⨯ recommended song: last night i read your diary - gürl She's got me down on my knees I beg, I beg, I, I beg, I beg, please! I want it more than I need And I need it like I need to breathe Like I'm losing my- Choke.

PREVIEW (3.1k):

no warnings apply to the preview, it's just the first couple of thousand words for this fic. aka, the intro and the set up for what will inevitably happen later:

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Your first heartbreak is meant to be painful, but this? This is more painful than you could have ever imagined. 

Heeseung was one of your only constants in life. From childhood to high school it’s like he was there more than your own mother was, and certainly more than your own father. Even when she passed, Heeseung was the one who held you through it, he’s the one who made you smile again, he’s the one who made you feel like it was okay to heal and keep going. 

It’s the fact that it was a mutual break up that hurts the most because deep down, you couldn’t see yourself without him. Yet, still, you willingly watched him hop on the plane with a short kiss and long goodbye. It felt so final to you. You could have handled a long distance relationship, truly. But Heeseung didn’t want that. He wanted to explore the world, he wanted to try new things, be with new people. 

Do things without you clinging to him all the time. 

In a way, you understand that. After all, you’re the only girl he had ever been with up until now. Senior year of college. You think you knew your relationship was coming to an end by the time he announced he was going to be studying abroad for his final year without ever once even telling you he was applying to do so. 

So, yeah, it was mutual solely because you want him to be happy and he’s made it clear that he believes that can only happen without you. Such is life. Painful, painful fucking life.  

Just last year when your mother passed, you nearly dropped out and Heeseung had been your rock to make it through class after class with a grade barely high enough to pass. You’re certain some of your professors took pity on you and raised your grade just enough to move forward. You’ll forever thank them for recognizing how hard you were trying. But now? Without your mother, without Heeseung, you’re at a loss.

And there’s a difference between loneliness and isolation, you think. Loneliness to you always hits hard during small spaces in your day, like when you’d get into Heeseung’s car and he would close your door for you. The silence always hurt your ears while he was still making his way around the car to the driver’s seat. A shallow loneliness that you could feel right at the top of your gut, like it was squeezing inside of you and making you lose your appetite. Solely because that silence reminded you of what you always had, a lack of loneliness because of him.

But then there’s isolation. Where it feels forced upon you by other people. Your mother fucking died, Heeseung fucking left, and now you’re just here expected to wake up like you always do, go to class, study hard, sleep well, when the reality of it is– you’re genuinely struggling just to look at yourself in the mirror. 

Then there’s Sunghoon. The only person close enough to you now that you can reach out to. The issue with that is– you’ve never actually been close. And that’s what sucks. The fact that he of all people is all you have now? May as well just assume you have nobody.

His regular calls mean close to nothing to you in the grand scheme of things. Despite him calling twice a week every week since your mother died, your step-father is just as distanced from you as you are him. You’re aware that it’s his obligation, not because he cares. And that hurts, because it’s all you have now. 

Now, you have to try and find meaning in those short calls. After all, Sunghoon fell apart when your mother passed all on his own and you had only called him out of obligation too. You were already in college and stressed, falling apart yourself with someone to love beside you helping you through it. Calling him when it all happened felt empty because you knew both of you were trying to hold it together and save face. 

It wasn’t like this before she died. In fact, he never called and you never cared for him to. You’d see each other when you were home, share awkward pleasantries, and that’s it. It’s hard to believe that now you feel like you need a father, after all those years of practically rejecting him as one. He seemed fine with that after you hit your teen years. He knew by then that he could never be the father you want, but at least he could be the husband your mother needed.

You have grief in common now though. Loneliness. Isolation.

You try not to think about how you were okay up until now though. Having Heeseung to fall back on to soften the blow of your loss, you guess Sunghoon didn’t have that. Maybe his monotone voice and empty words were his way of coping, his way of hearing a voice that wasn’t the one in his own head when he calls you. 

It’s just you and a man you never considered family past the titles and obligatory respects. Finding meaning in his short phone calls does nothing to help your growing isolation, but you cling to them now that Heeseung is gone. You wait for the calls, you ask him to check in with you every day now, to the point Sunghoon starts to notice the difference in you.

No longer rushing to get off the phone. Now, you’re dragging on meaningless conversations. Now, he hears cracks in your voice. 

“You feeling okay?” Sunghoon asks you, in a way that makes you wonder how he’s able to tell that you’re definitely not. The way his own voice has a bit of life to it when he asks it…strange too. Like he’s concerned. 

“No–” You trail off in your meek voice, staring at your ceiling and mind swirling with all of the work you need to get done for classes already. “I’ve only been in classes for a week and I already feel like I’m drowning.” 

Sunghoon sighs into the speaker, contemplating how to further the conversation with you in a way that isn’t too intrusive. After all, who is he to pry? Still, he never intended for you to feel neglected or like you couldn’t come to him. After all, you were too happy about his lack of parenting you throughout his presence in your life. 

He finds solace in the fact that you’ve been accepting him now, though he hasn’t the slightest idea as to why. He’s checked in with you since the passing, but lately it feels to him like something more is going on with you. He may be somewhat estranged, and he may have his own problems to deal with, but you’re still someone he needs to be here for.

Plus, it makes him feel needed again, which is nice considering the circumstances. After living in this bustling house with you and your mom for so long, to it just being him and your mom, to now just him…all that remains now is dread, dissociation, and unwashed dishes in the sink.

“Did something happen?” Sunghoon keeps his questions short, offering more silence if anything for you to use this call as a therapy session if you need. 

You pause for a long moment, realizing that you want to talk about your issues so badly but don’t quite feel the need to share it with him of all people. You’ve already ranted day after day to Jay. To the point you’re sure he’s about one rant away from blocking your number. 

Probably because you’re not that close to him either. Not these days, anyway.

You sigh instead. 

“No…” You trail off. “I think I just miss being home. My dorm mate is never here, class work is already piling up, and I can’t even find the energy to look at the assignments.” 

Sunghoon can tell you’re feeling much like he does and he can’t imagine the weight on your shoulders dealing with these feelings while also in college. But, you have Heeseung, do you not? You’ve been fine for the most part until now, and you haven’t even brought him up. Not once in the past few weeks has his name been uttered by you. Which is strange, after all, the two of you were practically attached at the hip growing up, to the point of choosing the same college, working the same jobs, and even keeping that middle-school puppy love in full swing throughout highschool and college. 

If anything, after your mother passed, Sunghoon felt okay knowing you had Heeseung there with you to help you through it. It meant he could focus on himself and getting through the day-to-day. He could barely handle his own mournful thoughts, let alone the daughter’s feelings of the woman he loved so dearly. He was forever grateful for Heeseung during this time. 

He has his suspicions now though, and his heart aches for the voice he hears from you these days. 

“Why don’t you come home for a while?” He lends a pause to see if you’ll jump for the opportunity before selling the idea to you. “I have the bills here covered and your campus is only a forty minute drive. I’m sure that’s inconvenient but you won’t have bills to worry about on top of everything else.” He doesn’t want to sound too desperate, of course. 

After all, the loneliness he’s feeling is also becoming unbearable. Even if the two of you never were able to see eye to eye, or to form a bond together, you’re all he has left of your mother. He, arguably, is nothing to you, but there’s no one else in this world he’d rather heal the loneliness with outside of you. Only because you knew your mother on a level deeper than he did, and to have someone to share those memories with, or even laugh with, would help him tremendously too.

“I think being at home may do you some good.” 

You think it over in your head, wondering if being home will help you at all. In reality, you know it may make you feel more trapped than you do now. All those memories with your mother, with Heeseung, with all of your friends that have since moved to different colleges. 

But…you wouldn’t be alone. You’d be with someone who knows how to give you space because he’s never even tried to shrink your existence to that of your bedroom and your bedroom alone. You wouldn’t have to worry about rent, food, or anything aside from studies, gas money, and trying to heal from your heartbreak. 

Your dorm is small, you note as you look around the room and wonder how long it would take you to pack your things up. Two hours, give or take. The longest part would be taking all of the little decorations off the wall, if you’re being honest. 

You find yourself nodding before answering, solidifying in your mind that– maybe you’re not the only one who needs company in your space. Not too close, but close enough to not be totally isolated. 

“Okay.” You mutter into the phone, for some reason feeling the tears well up behind your eyes. 

You’re just a bit overwhelmed, that’s all. Knowing you’re going home feels like a relief you didn’t know you needed. 

“Yeah?” Sunghoon confirms. “Just let me know when and I’ll drive up there to help get your stuff back home.” 

You agree, sighing into the phone with a shaking voice. Sunghoon takes note of it, always remembering and quite frankly missing how loud and obnoxious you used to be. Hearing you like this pains him. He wants to help. Now more than ever is his chance to be someone you need, and he hates knowing he feels happy about it. 

Getting to be your father now? It feels awkward, but at least it’s a feeling other than loss. 

“You know you can talk to me, right?” Sunghoon sighs at you through the speaker. “I know I’m not someone you like coming to but–well, I’d like for you to rely on me more, okay?” 

You find a lot of comfort in those words, despite hearing him say them time and time again. This is the first time he’s ever shown that he means it through the offer of bringing you home, rather than just saying it and accepting whatever you say back to him at face value. 

“I know…” You trail off. “I’m okay though, really.” 

Sunghoon hates himself for never forcing you to accept him. Sure, there may have been some teenage defiance towards him, but eventually the two of you could have seen eye to eye. He could have been someone you needed. You could have relied on him too, rather than just Heeseung. That’s all he can really think right now. 

“Are you sure there’s nothing else going on?” The man nearly pleads in his tone, desperate to have someone rely on him again. “I’ve never heard you sound so exhausted before, I can’t help but worry.”

You’d tell him, but honestly, what grown ass man wants to hear about a first heartbreak? It would just get awkward again, he’d just feel obligated to do something about it, and worse, he might end up feeling like he’s supposed to dislike Heeseung now. 

You choose to remain silent in the final straw that broke your back this semester. 

“Really, I’m just tired.” You nod to yourself as you hold your phone loosely against your ear. “I might not go to class tomorrow and just pack instead. I’ll just call you when I’m ready, is that okay?”

Sunghoon smiles to himself, wanting to mean something to you in a way that can hopefully help you out of this slump. Your mother would be throwing a fit if she heard how you’ve been sounding, he can’t help but take over that role and try to make damn sure you are okay. 

“That’s fine,” Sunghoon confirms. “I’ll call and let them know what’s going on so don’t worry about any of that. Just get yourself ready to come back home.” 

You find yourself smiling, relieved that you don’t have to be the one to contact your school and tell them that…well, you’re breaking your student-lease, dropping your food plan, and need to be reimbursed for partial tuition costs since Sunghoon insists every semester that you purchase tuition insurance. You should no longer be charged to live on campus, or for the facilities within the dorm. 

Knowing you’ll at least get back a couple thousand dollars is a nice change of pace, and already you’re feeling weirdly excited to go back to a space that will likely make you miss your mother more. It’ll hurt, but at least you won’t be alone anymore. 

The forty minute drive to campus feels less horrifying now, and maybe your friends will still come and hang out with you in your actual home rather than a tiny dorm. 

“Sounds good.” You say, as if to end the call before you mutter out again. “Thank you, by the way. Sunghoon, really.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Sunghoon knew he was spiraling further and further into his loneliness. He knew it wasn’t healthy either, but now. Oh, now he realizes just how bad it’s gotten as he demonizes himself upon picking you up. 

You haven’t come home since your mother’s funeral, and even on that day he barely remembers what you looked like. Eye contact was never a thing for him, but looking at you now, he sees how much you’ve matured since you went off to college. 

Your once bright, excited eyes have turned dull and empty. The bags under them are heavy from lack of sleep. Your lips appear to be in a permanent state of pouting, though he isn’t sure if you’ve noticed. You appear to have lost weight, which is concerning for him of course, but…there’s something else about you.

Something that sits in the pit of his stomach and rots.

“Uh–” You cough, noting the way Sunghoon looks at you as you try to hand him a large box. “Thank you for helping me move my stuff back…” 

Sunghoon snaps out of his thoughts, grabbing a heavy box and then waiting for you to stack another on top. 

“No big deal,” He mutters, feeling the weight in his hands double as he prepares to carefully carry your things out to his car. “You haven’t come home in over a year, but I’ve fixed up your room for you and went ahead and connected my gaming system in there.”

You nod quietly, feeling awkward for how fatherly he seems.

“Thanks…” You trail off, flopping a pile of your things into his trunk before stopping to look at him. “You look like shit.”

Sunghoon furrows his brows, noticing for a split second how that facial expression you made is very similar to one his wife used to throw at him when he’d have hair out of place, or a wardrobe malfunction. And then he smiles. 

“You’re not looking too good yourself.” He jokes back.

You smile back at him, feeling a bit of the awkward air fizzle away. 

“Well, I’m not doing well, so.” 

You were continuing the joke, but his face falls before yours does. 

“You can talk to me–” He starts.

“I know, I know.” You wave him off. “I’ll feel a lot better once we get back and I can settle in.

There’s a nod from him now, and then silence as the two of you continue to put the rest of your belongings into both his car and your own. 

“Well, I guess I’ll see you in a bit?” You say now, awkwardly.

Sunghoon nods, looking you over once again.

“See you in a bit.” 

   ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Shame.

Pure fucking shame. 

Sunghoon knew he needed another presence in this house but upon seeing you again, he knew it may have been a mistake. 

He likes to think of himself as level headed. He’s never gotten into any trouble, never had a stray thought, never cheated, lied, or stole anything. He can’t think of a single thing that he’s done in life to be considered taboo.  But looking at you feels…incorrect?

Indecent? 

You’re his step-daughter for fuck sake but it’s the fact that you don’t feel like you are. When he looks at you, he just sees another person. He did this to help you, he did this to feel needed, to be your fucking father. 

He did not do this to look at you this way or to feel his eye stray even without his intention.

Why do you look so much like her? Why do you do that thing with your pinky when you carry things like she did? You even have a similar smell, probably having picked up on your mother’s habits throughout childhood. 

You being here…It’s like she’s still here. Except it’s you, and he can’t be thinking this way. 

 ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

This fic will be dark, very taboo, morally bad. Not a grey area, it is blatantly bad. sunghoon will do bad things. Please be aware of your own triggers once it's completed and posted. remember that I write within my own triggers, not yours. That being said! Please do show lots of love if this is a fic you're interested in reading! If you want to be tagged, I have a permanent tag list, there are not any separate tag lists for individual fics so keep that in mind.  ・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

[mickyschumacher]

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐅𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐄𝐃 .ೃ࿐

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: the racing season is finally over and lando is more than excited to have you all to himself. or in which lando prefers his breakfast in bed with you as the main course.

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ (minor dni), breastplay, grinding(?), teasing, oral sex/eating out/cunnilingus, fingering, pure moments of fluff because bf!lando is the sweetest, discussion of lando mentally struggling at the start

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: bf!lando norris x fem!reader

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓: 2k+

𝐀/𝐍: i promised a post before the end of the year and it happens to coincide with a holiday of giving ;) merry christmas and happy hanukkah to those who celebrate it! and happy new year! // as usual poorly proof-read ♡︎ (sorry if it's shitty, i haven't written a full-piece in a while)

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

⋆  •°.  。  .°•  ⋆

The season was over. Finally.

Not to be offensive or anything but you had been waiting for this moment for what, this year, felt like forever.

Yes, it was action packed–largely due to the fact that a certain RedBull wasn't winning every race. Yes, McLaren had whipped up the fastest car on the grid to shake things up. And yes, the same team had clinched their ninth World Constructor's Championship.

And while that made you absolutely over the moon, all you had wanted was for some peace and quiet on a random Wednesday morning so you could (maybe creepily) ogle your handsome boyfriend.

Was that too much to ask for?

It had been a tough season for Lando and naturally, as you promised from the very start of your friendship alone–that you would stick by his side no matter what–you had also been through the thick of it.

Convincing Lando to not look at the comments after every session or race had been difficult. You tried your best to remove any negativity that clouded his mind. Some days it worked and some days it didn't.

But that was life. And that was then.

Now you were wide awake at some odd time in the morning, laying comfortably on your stomach with your head turned towards Lando. There was about one degree of separation between the both of you, allowing you to carefully observe him.

Lando was never an early bird. If he was, it would be by some miracle or your upper arm strength pulling him from the sheets. A small smile crept onto your face. You had been friends for years now and together for even shorter. Yet you still couldn't believe that the sleepy bird next to you was yours entirely.

His dark tousled and recently cut curls, the stress lines on his forehead you were always aching to smooth out and comfort with the pad of your thumb, his "perfectly normal sized ears" that you definitely never made fun of, his lovely lashes you were jealous of, and the soft pink lips you couldn't decide whether to touch or kiss.... all yours.

Behind all the stupidity, humour, and claimed 'indifference' Lando sported on camera and with others, you always knew his heart. It was open for everyone and had more than enough love to go around. You were in love with the biggest sap you had ever known.

And on top of all of that, he made it out of that car to you... alive... every goddamn time.

You were luckier than you could ever imagine.

"How long are you going to stare at me, love?" Lando's voice queried, thick with the rasp of the morning and the events of last night.

You slightly widened your eyes, watching him open those beautiful baby blues and land on you. An flustered flush of heat wavered up your skin. You bit your lip before slipping beneath the covers, feeling the warmth envelope your skin entirely. You started with a muttered curse.

"How long have you even been awake, Lan? That's so embarrassing," you chided with a muffled tone.

Unbeknownst to you, Lando couldn't help but grin at your sudden shy demeanour. It was hard for anyone to imagine you as shy but he had seen every side of you. How enjoyable it was that even after all these years, he could tease you and see how flustered you could get. If he had met you when you were kids, this is exactly how he imagined you'd be.

He stretched out his taut arm, grabbing you by the waist. His skin swarmed with heat as he felt your bare waist under your shirt as he pulled you over him. He moved your knees so you straddled him.

He pressed his lips to prevent a full blown smile at what he was seeing.

Your hair was fully covering your face, head down and hands hovering over to hide the tinges of pink and red on your skin.

"Baby... come on, love. Show me your face," Lando encouraged, nudging your hair lightly with the side of his finger. "Come on, baby."

You groaned, lifting your head, feeling all your tresses go back. You blankly stared at your boyfriend with burning cheeks. "I hate you," you mumbled, giving him a small glare.

Lando snorted, putting his hands firmly on your waist. His fingers edged up behind the hem of your shirt, rubbing small circles into your bare skin. "You love me. Someone who hates me wouldn't stare at me so lovingly."

"I��" You tried to open your mouth to retaliate but to no avail as you quickly came to the realisation that he was indeed correct. As Lando usually was with these things.

"Fine. You got me," you sighed admittedly, "I just missed waking up next to you in the morning. Is that such a horrible crime?" You dramatically asked, tease heavy in your voice.

In any other situation, Lando would've narrowed his eyes at your teasing but all he could do was gaze softly at you. You weren't able to travel with him all the time and he wasn't able to spend every day with you. You both knew that. And while it sucked, you had both gotten used to it, cherishing when you were together.

But this year... Lando had spent every living second wishing you were next to him. He wanted you to tell him your god awful jokes. To look at him from across the room and take his entire breath, mind, whatever, away. To drop the fake smiles and rest in your arms with all the time in the world.

"No," Lando whispered, warm eyes travelling over your face, trying to find anything new to memorise. Anything he had missed since seeing you. "That isn't a crime. If it was, I'd be guilty as charged."

Your breath hitched while a small shiver trickled down your body as Lando pushed back a lock of hair behind your ear. You chewed down on your lip before breaking into a smile gently. "I love you, Lando Norris. Forever," you murmured, placing a brief kiss onto his lips.

Lando stared at you hard, far more awake than he had ever been. He lifted his head slowly, holding you close to him. And without a second thought, he brought his lips to yours.

This kiss was different from the others you had shared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere or context that accounted for that different but the need, the love, the softness and the brutal passion was poured into every fibre of your being

Your hands curled around the back of his neck, pulling him tighter while your nose glided against his as Lando only just begun ravaging your mouth. He sucked on your lips with a small nibble here and there, relishing the muffled moans passing your lips.

His own hands continued to travel the path of your body he had committed to memory. He knew as he traversed your heated back exactly where the dark freckles he had come to love were.

Your soft moans became more audible and pleasing to Lando's ears as he curled his lips to your neck, leaving the sloppily yet controlled path of possessive kisses down base of your skin. He could feel your pulse against his skin and God, he wanted to burn it into his brain and save it.

"Lando," you gasped as you felt a sudden jerk underneath you, feeding into the pooling wetness between your thighs. Your teeth sunk into your pillowy bottom lip, your hips automatically responded by grinding down onto Lando's bulge.

"Ah, fuck," Lando cursed, feeling his cock throb in his underwear. His eyes fluttered shut, hands immediately returning to your hips to continue the stimulating pleasure.

You were driving him crazy.

Both of your skin was covered in a thin sheen of sweat as you felt Lando's clothed cock rut into your poorly covered pussy. You rocked your hips harder into him, feeling a slight jolt against your clit. "Oh, fuck, Lando," you moaned his name in his ear, fingers curling into his skin.

Lando opened his eyes, drawing back to capture your face. Your dazed eyes, glowing skin, panting lips, the way your hips bowed towards him... he had missed you. So. Fucking. Much.

"I want breakfast," Lando blurted with a slight gasp as the pleasure rocked through his body.

You stopped moving your hips, body shuddering from the halt. You raised a brow at the sudden desire but shrugged it off considering you were way past breakfast hours and you were only human. "Okay," you responded, about to move off of Lando to head to the kitchen.

Lando reached over, hand pulling your body back towards him, rolling your body so he hovered over you between your legs. "Where are you going?" he tutted, "Breakfast is right here."

You seemed to lose the ability to speak with Lando's hand kneading the flesh of your thighs, implying exactly what he wanted. You breathlessly watched his head move over your body. His tongue lapped at your skin, travelling to any bare patch he could find as though he wanted to feast on you. His warmth made your core tingle as you arched into his touch.

You were positively going to lose your mind.

His hands slid under your shirt, burning your skin until he could fill his palms with your breasts. "Oh baby," Lando moaned, fingers teasing your soft mounds. "I love your tits so fucking much."

A choked cry broke through your lips upon hearing his confession, fingers brushing against your hardened nipple almost painfully slowly. No matter how many times he said it, it set you alight.

"Lando," you moaned loudly, hoping he could read and hear the sound that beckoned him towards your aching core.

He paused, allowing you to take in the heavenly sight of Lando's bare chest, decorated only by the necklace you had gotten him on his birthday last year. In turn, his gaze was only focused on your core.

You tested your lung capacity, taking in a sharp inhale as he pressed his knuckles against your panties, purposely pushing harder against on the ball of your clit. You faltered at the smile sprawling on his face, your hips jolting forward and mouth unable to contain a desperate yelp.

Lando was every inch as desperate as you were, taking no time to waste. His fingers hooked onto your panties and removed them in one swift motion, leaving you bare from the waist down.

Your stomach churned at the sight of Lando nestling his head into your inner thigh, his once light blue eyes now dark and heavy with desire as he inhaled the scent of you. The moan escaping his lips made you shiver.

You were sure you were dripping. You could feel the slick trail down your pussy, glistening in a patient wait to be touched just like you were.

Your eyes fell back to Lando who groaned your name. "I promise to God, I'm going to make you cum so hard that breakfast in bed will be the only option you have," he stated so surely against your skin as his fingers slid from the seam of your entrance to your clit, bundling all your wetness onto his hand.

Oh god.

"Lando, please," you begged shamelessly, legs aching to clench together to relieve the pain of being untouched.

Your legs trembled around Lando's head, his hot breath nearing your pussy while his mouth drew closer. You watched him take you in for the last time before his lips firmly sealed over your aching clit.

The burst of pleasure cut through your body so sharply. Your cry of joy echoed in the late morning, hips bucking against his mouth.

Lando's hands travelled to the outside of your thighs, grasp tightening to keep them spread open on his shoulders. "Keep them open, baby," he ground out.

It took everything in your power to keep your legs from collapsing, particularly as he made his point with another hard to suck to your clit, but you body seemed to follow his command. His mouth returned your wet folds, tongue swirling around every crevice before coming back to the most sensitive part of you, turning you into absolute mush.

Your hands had found their way to those mop of curls you cherished so much, legs trying to conform around Lando's shoulder to welcome any better angle of pleasure.

Your gasp at the sudden dismissal of his mouth was short lived, any chance to complain gone as his fingers pushed into your slick folds, stretching your clenching muscles out.

"Fuck yourself on those pretty little fingers for me, baby. I need you ready for me," Lando encouraged breathlessly as something feral inside of him emerged.

His fingers stroked your swollen walls from the inside, ensuring you felt every inch of them along the sensitive front wall of your pussy while his tongue glazed over every puffy slick fold like you were golden honey.

Lando watched in torture as he pushed his fingers in and out of your walls, your body jerking forward at the sheer pleasure. "That's it, baby," he continued to praise you.

"Doing so well for me, hmm?" He asked, a gleam of your wetness coating his lips. Moving his free hand down your thigh, he gathered your flesh in his fingers before reaching the small bundle of nerves, thumb going in small firm circles.

You were beginning to feel numb. A cold yet hot tightness coiling within your core, waiting to be unleashed. "Lando," you gasped, struggling to keep your head up, "fuck, I–I think I'm going to cum."

"Yes, baby," Lando coaxed, fingers speeding up with every action they had entailed, "Cum for me, please. Keep your eyes open. Look at me, love."

You fought the urge to squeeze your eyes shut, forcing your eyes to travel to those familiar baby blues. All the trillion nerves in your body felt like entangled knots tied by Lando's tongue while his fingers found the sweetest spot of your pussy and held to you that pinnacle.

Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip while Lando held your gaze, tongue sliding, curving up, and pushing in and out of every crevice. Your pussy finally succumbed to the hard pressure, clenching muscles squeezing hard at the sharp pinch of pain.

The pain was explosive, searing, and all-consuming.

You cried.

You cried so loudly you were sure your neighbours would be complaining any minute now.

It didn't matter. Not when the pleasure shooting through you was disproportionately and literally blowing you out of this world as though it had been seated and waiting to be released since the dawn of time itself. Your hips bucked and stuttered while you squirmed and writhed against the bed, the fabric of your shirt sticking to your sweaty skin.

Lando's mouth had never left you through your orgasm, tongue still deep in your folds, savouring all the convulses, shudders, and clenches of your body.

Even better yet, he had watched every second of you falling apart.

And it absolutely drove him crazy.

Lando's hand rushed to catch your falling body, holding you up as a small wave of exhaustion crashed into you. You stared at Lando shiftless, still seeing the faint image of floating stars across his face.

Oh my god.

Lando had broken you with his tongue.

You watched Lando lick his fingers clean as you slowly removed your legs from his shoulders. You lifted your head, pressing a long kiss onto his lips.

Lando grinned, cradling his arms around your body as he pushed you both into the bed yet again. He pushed back your slightly greased hair, caressing your cheek gently. "You okay?"

His query made you feel soft all over. You smiled into his hands and nodded. "Perfect," you chirped, hands hanging over his neck.

"So... breakfast in bed?" Lando offered knowingly as he massaged your thighs gently. You were not walking to that kitchen.

You furrowed your brows. "What about my breakfast?"

Lando wanted to question you but as his eyes followed your gaze, the answer became as clear as the aching bulge underneath his boxers.

"Oh."

© 𝐌𝐈𝐂𝐊𝐘𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐔𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐑

[performing-personhood]

Growing old can be so hard, but it's even harder to know that the face of someone you love will never be able to reflect their years back at you because they are frozen in time. Forever the age they were, when.

The women in my maternal line don't get to grow old, a cancer takes us in our sixties - before we get a chance to really settle into it, to let the years carve their paths across us like so many river canyons. (As for the men, well, we shan't talk of their suffering; I talk about the curse I inherited from them quite enough, i think.)

Me, I'm not quite forty yet. I have time and health on my side still - no cancer yet. So this post is such a beautiful reminder to love every silver hair, to welcome and cherish every new wrinkle and fold, to marvel at the earliest whispers of new constellations of spots and freckles on skin that softens a little bit every day.

My mother hated her body until the day the cancer finally took her, and never once felt as beautiful as she deserved to. It is hard to mourn her now, because what I have left - the ashes of the body she hated, which betrayed her - has nothing of my mother's love in it.

I don't always love the meat I live inside of, but I do deserve to feel the love that I am given - I deserve to feel like the beautiful* mammal I am. When i go, I want to leave behind me a thing that I loved as much as I could.

* (Beauty in the classical definition is fluid and hard to define; Beauty in the Steve Irwin definition is a fact, and That is the definition I like to use.)

as someone who nearly died at 22 due to serious health issues, society's obsession with youth and hatred of the signs of aging really gargles my goyles. not everyone gets to grow old, it's such a privilege and yet we treat it like a disease, or a curse, something to avoid for as long as possible. truly it strangles the soul to witness

[katsu28]

operation mistletoe

pairing: oscar piastri x reader

summary: all it takes is one meddling lando norris and some mistletoe at the mclaren holiday party for oscar and yourself to admit your true feelings for each other. (2.2k)

a/n: day two with osc! enjoy <3

“I don’t know why you won’t just tell him.” 

Lando is currently laying spread eagle on your kitchen floor, tossing a padel ball above his head while you shove a packet of popcorn into the microwave for your movie night. 

His question is out of the blue, but you know what he's talking about. Lando is wondering why you won’t tell a certain Aussie you both work with that you have feelings for him.

He’s been wondering for a while now, bordering on a year since you’d accidentally let it slip to him—almost half the time said Aussie has been part of McLaren. 

You scoff. “Have you sent it into the barriers too many times? That’s literally the worst idea I’ve ever heard.”

“But why?” He presses, sounding exasperated. You can’t see him around the island counter, but you can imagine that squinty eyed, scrunchy nosed look he always gets when he doesn’t understand something. You’ve seen it almost overwhelmingly often in the few years you’ve been friends. 

“First of all, we work together. If I tell Oscar that I like him and he doesn’t like me back, I’d never be able to show my face at MTC ever again,” You reason, searching for a bowl to put the popcorn in once it's done. 

It’s actually something you’ve put quite a bit of thought into when weighing the pros and cons of telling Oscar about your feelings. 

“I’d have to find a new job, but that might take forever, so I’d have to move back in with my parents until I find one—if I find one—and I’m pretty sure my mum turned my bedroom into a yoga space the moment I’d left for uni, so I’d have to move into the basement. And then the job I find might not even be around here, so I’d have to move back out of my parents’ place and find another place to live, and you know how expensive things are in some cities! I’d have to find roommates, and I don’t really fancy living with strangers somewhere I don’t know.” 

Lando has taken a seat at the counter when you turn back around with the bowl in your hands, staring at you with the most unimpressed look you’ve ever seen gracing his dumb face. 

“I reckon you’re overthinking things just a smidge,” He says flatly. He thinks you’re being dramatic. You’d call it brainstorming possible worst scenarios. 

You scowl, dumping the freshly popped kernels into said bowl before shoving it towards him. “You don’t know that.” 

He shovels a mouthful of it into his mouth on your way to the couch, sprawling out the length of it with his socked feet in your lap. “I’m pretty sure he fancies you too.” 

“Did he tell you that?” You raise a brow, swatting his feet off you. 

“Well, no, but I’m very perceptive.” 

“I saw you once say excuse me to a mannequin in a race suit at MTC because you weren’t paying attention to where you were going.” 

“Oi, fuck you!” Lando huffs, donkey kicking you lightly in the thigh. “You promised you’d never bring that up again. All I’m saying is that you should just man up and tell him flat out.” 

“I should what?” 

“Shit, I mean—well. Woman up? I guess?” He wonders, squinting one eye shut. “I dunno, really, but still. You never know how he’ll react. Could turn out mint.” 

“Can we not talk about it anymore? Please?” You groan, letting your head tip back against the cushions. “I just feel a little pathetic right now.” You feel Lando pat your head. 

“You’re not pathetic. Love just sucks,” He says sympathetically. “But sure, we don’t have to talk about it right now.” 

-------

True to his word, Lando doesn’t bring it up for weeks. In hindsight, you should’ve taken it as a sign of him planning something, but you’ve been busy with other things. 

Nothing happens until the McLaren holiday party, right after the FIA awards in Rwanda. Someone yells your name from afar as you’re going for a second drink, and when you turn to see who it is, you spot Lando waving wildly at you, gesturing for you to come over. 

Before you can even say anything when you approach, he grabs your hand, dragging you down the corridor. He walks and walks and walks, still not saying a word despite your constant badgering. 

Finally, he stops and takes you by the shoulders, maneuvering you a few steps to one side, forward a few steps. Then he nods once, backing up with his hands out in front of him. “Do me a favor, just wait right here for a second.” 

“What? Lando, what’re you—”

“No, no, no, this is important, I promise. Just stay there. Maybe close your eyes too if you could, that’d be mint.” 

Despite your confusion, you oblige, squeezing your eyes shut. You hear his footsteps retreat, but then nothing for a suspiciously long time. Had he just stuck you here and run off like an absolute wanker? 

A shoulder bumps yours before you can jump to any more conclusions, and it startles you. 

“What the hell is going on?” You question, frowning. Nothing but silence. “Lando? Are you there?” 

“Erm, nope. Not Lando.” 

Fuck. You know that voice. That voice makes your heart do a stupid tap dance against your rib cage every time you hear it.

Your eyes fly open to meet an extremely familiar pair of brown ones. Oscar’s eyes. Oscar is standing right in front of you, looking just as confused as you feel. 

“Oscar!” You exclaim, feeling your face flame hot. 

You can’t help the surprise seeping into your voice. To see him there isn’t something you were expecting at all, and it certainly doesn’t help that he looks extremely handsome, almost glowing with happiness fresh off the end of a successful season for the team. The blue suit he has on clings to him in just the right ways, and his cheeks have a pink flush to them.

“Hi,” He says awkwardly. You aren’t quite certain what to do at the moment, or what even is happening right now. “Do you know what’s going on?” 

“I don’t, actually. Lando just told me to stay here and that he’d be right back,” You admit.

Oscar lets out a noise of acknowledgement from the back of his throat. “Yeah, same, he told me it was something important. I’m not sure where he went, though.” 

He brings up a good point. Where had Lando gone?

Your phone buzzes in your hand at that moment, Lando’s name flashing across the screen when you glance at it. “Hang on, he’s just texted me,” You inform Oscar, angling your phone towards him as if whatever the message says will explain everything. 

Lando: Look up. 

Both of you look up at the same time, and what you see makes your heart drop into your ass. 

A sprig of mistletoe dangles from a haphazardly tied piece of string attached to the beam above. 

That fucker. You’re going to kill him. You’re actually going to kill Lando Norris. 

“Is that—that’s not mistletoe, is it?” Oscar squints up at the tiny plant, tilting his head. 

“It is,” You sigh, fighting the urge to go find Lando and strangle him with your bare hands. “I want you to know I’ve had absolutely nothing to do with this. It was all your idiot teammate.” 

Oscar laughs a little bit, shoulders shaking. “No, I know it’s all him. He thinks he’s hilarious.” 

“He sure does.” 

“I don’t think anyone’s ever told him he’s not,” He replies. Then he shifts on his feet, reaching up to run a nervous hand through his hair. “You look really nice, by the way. Been meaning to tell you that all night, but there’s so many people here I couldn’t find you. Until now, it seems.” 

All night. Oscar has been looking for you all night, just to tell you that you look nice. He’s making it really hard not to fall for him a little bit more. 

“Thank you, Oscar. You clean up well too.” 

He looks down at himself, rocking back and forth on his heels a little. “You think so? I didn’t know if the two shades of blue were too much.” 

“No, they look great. Really.” 

A sudden silence blankets the two of you, and you hate it. You wish you were better at holding conversation, but with Oscar, all your thoughts seem to go right out the window. 

“We should go—” 

“D’you want to—” 

“Sorry, sorry, you first,” You insist, pressing your lips together. 

“Sure, yeah. I was just, uh, asking if you’d maybe want to…y’know.” He glances up at the mistletoe, then back to you, and if you aren’t mistaken, he looks a little hopeful. “We don’t have to if you don’t want to, of course. I’m not—I wouldn’t force you or anything. I just…yeah, we could, if that’s something you’d be into.” 

“Oh!” You blink at him owlishly, completely caught off guard by his suggestion. Oscar wants to kiss you. Is this real life, or has Lando just played the ultimate cruelest prank on you?

“Tradition-wise, and all. I heard you’re cursed with bad luck for years if you break it,” He adds hastily, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“Definitely wouldn’t want that.” 

“Definitely not,” He echoes, bobbing his head. What comes out of his mouth next is entirely out of the blue. “Did you know the word mistletoe comes from two Anglo Saxon words? Mistel, which means dung, and tan, which basically means branch.” 

“No, I did not know that! That’s…very interesting,” You say enthusiastically, teeth digging into your bottom lip to quell the laugh threatening to spill out. If it were anyone else, you’d think it was quite weird, but Oscar’s word vomit is strangely endearing. 

“I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that. It’s disgusting, and you didn’t ask. Erm, wow, I’m—” 

“Oscar.” 

“Yeah?” He squeaks, pale cheeks rosy with embarrassment. 

You push forward instead of saying anything else, pressing your lips against his briefly. It’s a split second kiss, but it’s all you can manage without feeling like you’re doing something monumentally stupid. Still, it’s enough to send a zip of something thrilling through your veins. 

When you pull back, Oscar’s eyes are wide, and immediately you think you’ve made a mistake. You open your mouth to blurt an excuse, an apology, anything, but he speaks before you can.

“Will you go out with me?” You falter at the sudden question, totally caught off guard, and it seems to make him panic. “Oh. Oh no. Did I get this completely wrong?” 

“No! No, you didn’t,” You say quickly, reaching out to take his hand. His shoulders slump in relief, fingers already tightening around yours. “I’d love to go out with you, Osc.” 

“Thank god, or this would’ve been really awkward,” He sighs. “Looks like Lando did something right today.” 

“For the first time in his life, probably.” 

“In all fairness, I don’t think I would’ve had the balls to ask you out otherwise,” Oscar admits sheepishly. You hum your agreement. It turns out Lando being a nosy meddler of a friend has its benefits sometimes. “Think we should thank him or something?” 

“Definitely not. His ego would get way too big.” 

Lando looks entirely too smug when the two of you return to the party, eyes immediately zeroing in on your joined hands. “I take it the mistletoe went over well?” 

“I dunno what you’re talking about.” You shrug casually, glancing over at Oscar to see him do the same. 

“Alright, fine. Be like that. You’re welcome, by the way. I expect a mad good Christmas present from both of you this year, I hope you know that.”

Oscar blinks. “But I already got you a set of tea towels.” 

“Ugh, spoiler!” Lando huffs, shoulders slumping. “Also, what are we—fifty? I mean, tea towels! Really, Osc?” 

“You said yours were ugly!” 

You make an offended noise from the back of your throat, furrowing your eyebrows. “I got you those towels for secret santa two years ago, you asshole.” 

“You did? Jesus, you two really are meant for each other,” Lando snorts, shaking his head. 

Oscar just grins over at you, giving a little tilt of his head as if to say great minds think alike. 

“By the way, we’ve got to get onstage soon, so if you’d stop making goo goo eyes at each other so we could get a move on, that’d be great.” 

“Oh. Alright.” Oscar’s smile fades as his gaze flicks back to you, seemingly displeased that he has to leave you so soon. “D’you mind if I…” 

“Go on, bring out the trophy. I’ll be right here,” You assure him, stepping in to drop a chaste kiss to his cheek.

Once they’re onstage little while later, Oscar’s already found you in the crowd, and as they lift the impressive trophy high in the air, he’s only looking at you, beaming so unbelievably bright it might just rival the sun. You smile right back at him, the pride you have both for this team and the two boys onstage just barely contained. 

This night marks the start of new beginnings, both for McLaren and for your relationship with a certain Aussie. And just like the 2025 season, you’re excited to see what next year will hold. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post new writing :)

[dixons-sunshine]

Wake Up Call | Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

(GIF isn’t mine.)

Summary: Mornings had never been Steve’s thing. Unless he had somewhere he needed to be, he did not like being woken up. However, waking up to you first thing in the morning was definitely something that he wasn’t against.

Genre: Fluff.

Warnings: Very slight allusion to suggestive themes, nothing else otherwise.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: Steve, my beloved. I love him so much. Here’s the first fic I wrote of him in forever. I’ll post the second one either tomorrow or Tuesday, and then it’s right back to your regularly scheduled Daryl content. (I feel like I should still point out that this does not mean that Steve is gonna become a part of the list of people I write for on a regular basis. After I post my second fic for him, I don’t know whether or not I’ll write for him again. Nothing is set in stone yet. I want to start writing for him again regularly. I really do, but I’m gonna have to do some real thinking on it.)

“Steve.”

A noncommittal grunt.

“Stevie…”

Another noncommittal grunt.

“Baby, you gotta wake up.”

“Uh-uh.”

You could not help the small laugh that escaped your chest at your boyfriend’s firm insistence to stay in the realm of slumber. Admittedly, you found the scene in front of you immensely adorable; Steve, on his stomach, his arms tucked around his pillow as if he were cuddling it, his hair a mess of loose strands and some curls, and his eyes shut tight as he attempted to fight off the thing that was trying to lull him out of the comforting depths of sleep.

Steve had never been one to wake up without a fight, not unless he knew he had somewhere important he needed to be. If not, one had a better chance using a tornado as an ice cream cone than rousing Steve Harrington from his slumber. He could be as stubborn as a mule under normal circumstances, but when he was asleep and comfortable and he did not want to wake up? Yeah, he was like an immovable boulder, but only way worse.

Luckily, you were well aware of how he was in that state, and your almost two years of being with him played to your advantage. You knew exactly how to wake him up.

With a practiced precession, you slowly moved towards him, slightly hovering over his exposed back. You carefully leaned down and pressed soft kisses from his upper back, onto his shoulder blade, up the back of his neck to the skin right below his earlobe, before moving your mouth up to whisper in his ear.

“Stevie,” you whispered in a sing-song tone of voice, giggling quietly when he groaned and pressed his face deeper into the pillow. “Baby, it’s time to wake up. It’s almost ten.”

“Go away,” Steve mumbled weakly, his voice muffled by the pillow.

You simply laughed at that. You could tell that Steve was not fully awake yet. If he was, he would never tell you to go away. He loved your mere presence more than anything else in the world. Well, not as much as he loved your touch, but it was right up there on the list.

“I made us breakfast,” you tried again, this time succeeding slightly. Steve turned his head, and you could see the way his already-closed eyes screwed tighter, a clear sign that he was desperately clinging onto the last remnants of his dreamland. However, with some more gentle urging, he would be fully awake soon enough.

You shifted your body so that you were instead seated on the bed instead of hovering over his body. You raised your hand and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair, attempting to tame the wildness you had come to love seeing in the mornings. “I made waffles. And poured you some orange juice. It’s waiting for you downstairs.”

Steve finally opened his eyes, clearly having lost the battle against consciousness. He blinked his eyes a couple of times, his beautiful amber irises adjusting to the light that was pouring in through the curtains. Once he could see clearly, he looked up and saw you, seated on top of his bed, smiling down at him with that beautiful smile of yours, looking absolutely radiant. And the fact that you were wearing nothing but your underwear and his shirt—that he had carelessly tossed aside the night prior due to it having been in the way of your activities—was an added bonus to the goddess-like view in front of him.

“G’mornin’, beautiful,” he greeted you with a small, lopsided smile, his gaze trailing over you appreciatively. Despite all the times he had woken up and saw you like that, he still acted like he was seeing it for the first time. His eyes trailed over the plush skin of your exposed thighs, up to the way his shirt hugged you, to the beautiful smile on your face.

Yeah, this was a sight he would forever appreciate, and would absolutely never take for granted.

“Good morning,” you replied with a light laugh, retracting your hand from his hair when he pushed himself to sit up. “Sleep okay?”

Steve nodded as he stretched his arms above his head to remove the kinks that had formed whilst he was asleep. “Yeah,” he confirmed with a yawn. “I always sleep better when you’re around.”

You smiled at him. “You’re a real charmer, Steve Harrington.”

“Thanks. I don’t even try,” he joked, laughing when you lightly shoved his shoulder. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten,” you repeated what you had told him earlier when he was still fighting to stay asleep.

Steve’s eyes widened at your words. “Shit, really?” He chuckled in disbelief when you nodded. “Wow. And you let me sleep that late?”

You shrugged nonchalantly. “It gave me the time to make us some breakfast without someone coaxing me out of the kitchen so that they can make breakfast instead,” you said, sending him a pointed look.

Steve chuckled and shrugged. “You can’t blame me for trynna take care of my girl.” He threw the bedcovers off of his body, his lower body covered with the boxers he had pulled on before going to bed the night before, but leaving his chest exposed for your view. He smirked slightly when he noticed the way your eyes trailed over his body this time. “See something you like?”

You scoffed and ducked your head shyly. “Shut up,” you mumbled, although there was no real heat behind your words.

Steve laughed and wrapped his arms around your midsection, pulling you into his body. You collided against his chest with a small ‘oof’, and your angelic laughter filled the air. It was a sound Steve loved immensely.

“Don’t go all shy on me now, Honey. I don’t blame you for appreciatin’ the view.” Steve chuckled fondly when you simply scoffed and buried your face into his chest. Opting to shift the subject instead of teasing you any further, he pressed a kiss on top of your head. “What did you make us for breakfast?”

“Waffles,” you began, once again repeating what you had already told him in his half awake state, “and I poured us some orange juice.”

“That sounds amazing,” he murmured into your hair. “Thank you, Sweetheart. You didn’t have to.”

“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to do it.” You pulled back and looked at him with a loving smile. “I love you, Stevie. Making breakfast is nothing. I do it for you because I want to.”

“I love you too,” Steve replied with a smile. He leaned forward and pressed a tender kiss to your forehead, purposefully avoiding your mouth until he had the chance to brush his teeth to rid himself of his morning breath. “Let’s go eat, yeah? Then we can do whatever you want to.”

“Even watch Footloose?” you asked hopefully, an excited glimmer in your eyes.

Steve chuckled and nodded. “Yes. Even watch Footloose.” His chuckle turned into a light laugh when you tugged his hand, urging him up from the bed.

Steve Harrington might not love waking up in the mornings when he did not need to, but he loved you, and that made it all worth it in the end.

[amourrs]

bachelor!abby who’s positively gleeful the first time she gets you back to her penthouse, trying not to trip over her shoes as she stumbles through the door with you in tow and practically drags you to her bedroom. you’re beautiful in your long black sheath dress, but even more so when you step out of it, fabric pooling on the floor along with abby’s jaw. she tries not to stare, but she can’t help herself, eyes skimming your figure as she tries not to cry at the reincarnation of venus being in her fucking bedroom. you’re on the bed and for a second it almost feels as if you belong here, like you could live in her apartment with her forever and maybe take her last name whilst you’re at it—and fuck, she’s not normally one to be this sentimental about the girls she fools around with, but is it her fault your heels look so perfect at the foot of her bed? it doesn’t take her long to get distracted from the domestic thoughts though, fingers scrambling to unhook your bra (red, just like the soles of your shoes, she vaguely registers) as her teeth graze the top of your breasts, hand coming up to grope at them as she tries not to stare. briefly she wonders if you’d let her do a line off your tit, maybe chase it with a body shot, but she tamps the thought down in her mind and stores it for a later date. right now, she’s not convinced you’re not going to walk out the door and so she leaves a trail of sloppy, open mouthed kisses down your stomach and snags your underwear in her teeth in a desperate attempt to keep you here via the art of seduction. it seems to work because you moan a little, swallowing the sound lest it inflates her ego a little too much as she drags dark lace down your legs and buries her face between them. your hands wind onto her hair and tug as her tongue laves over your clit and she groans so hard you can feel the vibration against you. what she lacks in finesse she makes up for in enthusiasm, pausing to nip at your thigh and leave the indents of her teeth before returning her attentions back to you, practically purring as your hands dig further into her dirty blonde tresses. you don’t let her relish in it for long though, eyes rolling as you pull at her locks, voice dripping with condescension. “that seriously the best you got? c’mon, i could get better from some guy behind a strip mall—” abby cuts you off with a slap to your clit, light enough that you don’t scream out but hard enough to sting, moaning as you writhe beneath her. “where are your manners?” she chides, eyes glinting as her breath fans hot over your cunt and you squirm a little, desperate to have her mouth back on you. “didn’t your mother ever teach you not to insult the host?” she tuts before sliding two fingers into you, tongue tracing circles on your clit as you sob, hips canting up to meet her as she crooks her digits inside of you and you yelp out an apology. “yeah, yeah. thought so. now stay still or i’m gonna walk out of here and leave you like this.”

[won4kiss]

﹙ 🎬 ﹚ ────FOREVER SOUNDS PERFECT.

(🐚) ── 𝓛EE HEESEUNG﹙희승﹚ ꒰ 𝓰. oneshot ៸ fluff ៸ established relationship ୨୧ㅤㅤ WARNiNGS : not proofread ៸ kissing ៸ petnames ៸ ❞ fiance! 𝓁ee heeseung x 𝑓! reader ˖ ݁𖥔 ݁˖ ꒰ WC : 0.6K ꒱ SYPNOSiS 𐙚 in the late hours of the night, you and heeseung indulge in a late night talk about your soon to be married future together .ᐟ ── LiBRARY

THE APARTMENT WAS SILENT WITH YOUR THOUGHTS.

the world outside could be heard slightly from the open windows, but now, wrapped in lee heeseung’s arms, everything feels still and perfect.

he’s lying on his back, and you’re curled against his chest, your legs tangled like it’s second nature. his fingers play gently with yours, occasionally spinning the engagement ring on your finger like he still can’t believe it’s there.

“you’re thinking about something, aren’t you?” you say, tilting your head up to catch his gaze.

his lips twitch into a small grin, warm and familiar. “maybe.”

you raise an eyebrow, shifting slightly to lift yourself on your elbow. “okay mr. nonchalant, spill.” ── 𝖱𝖤𝖲𝖳 𝖡𝖤𝖫𝖮𝖶!

heeseung sighed dramatically, letting his head fall back against the pillow with a thud. “i was just thinking about our wedding.”

your feel your heart skip a beat, but you play it cool. “oh? what about it?”

he taps his chin as if he’s deep in thought. “i’m still debating if i should cry when i see you walking down the aisle or just faint on the spot. both feel very in character for me.”

you giggle at his words, hitting his chest lightly. “be serious, hee!”

“i am serious,” he insists, catching your hand and pressing a gentle kiss to your palm. “you’re going to look so beautiful. i’m probably gonna cry a little… just so you know.”

you roll your eyes affectionately, your cheeks pink and insides warm. “good. then i’ll cry too, and we’ll be a mess together.”

heeseung grins and tugs you down so you’re lying on his chest again—his arms wrap securely around you, like he’s afraid you might slip away.

“i was also thinking about our first dance.”

“really?”

“yeah.” his fingers traced lazy patterns on your back. “i don’t know what song we’ll pick, but i know i’m not letting you go, even when the song’s over. we’ll probably have to be dragged off the dance floor.”

you can’t help but smile at the image forming in your imagination. “god—you’re such a sap.”

“for you? always.” he presses a kiss to the top of your head, lingering on your skin.

“and then after the wedding… we’ll go somewhere far away for our honeymoon. somewhere with a beach, maybe. just us, no schedules, just sleeping in, exploring, eating too much good food.”

“sold,” you mumble, snuggling closer into his embrace if possible. “but you know the best part?”

“what?”

“coming home.” you trace small circles on his chest, where his heartbeat is steady and comforting.

“starting our life together. making breakfast on the weekends, falling asleep on the couch watching dumb movies, annoying you until you can’t take it anymore.”

heeseung chuckles, tilting your chin up so you’re nose to nose. “i love the sound of that.”

you grin. “even the annoying you part?”

“especially that part.” his voice softens, feeling the seriousness despite the teasing. “i want all of it. every boring, silly, annoying little moment.”

you lean up and press a soft kiss to his lips. he smiles into it, chasing after you when you pull back like he’s not done yet.

“we’re gonna have the best life,” he says so surely, eyes sparkling. “even if we burn dinner or lose our keys or—i don’t know, accidentally adopt five dogs someday.”

“accidentally?” you laugh.

he laughs too, tipping his head back against the pillow. “intentionally. whatever you desire, baby. as long as it’s with you.”

you smile, settling back into his arms, feeling so impossibly safe and loved. “forever sounds pretty nice.”

heeseung hums contentedly, his lips brushing your temple. “forever sounds perfect.”

© WON4KISS 2024 do not repost, plagiarize, or translate.

NOTE. i love heeseung so much:( i think this will be my second to last fic of 2024!! my birthdays on tuesday that’s the only thing keeping me going rn ☹️ BUT HAIR APPOINTMENT ON THE 30TH GUESS WHOS GOING BLONDE🔥🔥🔥

୨୧ TAGLIST OPEN ‹𝟹 @mioons @nshmuras @suneng @pnghoon @shawnyle @laylasbunbunny @privareum @briefsaladfun @cyjzzl @sol3chu @txtlyn @d-dilemma @deezbin @iluvnikism @rikibwn @wonsprincess @niawonn @pockyyasii @kiss4noo @nineooooo @loves0ft @ancnymcnzjy @dazzlingjaeyun : COMMENT OR SEND AN ASK TBA.

[gold-onthe-inside]

gingerbread kisses

who? spencer reid (s4) x bau!reader

summary: your first christmas as a couple with spencer involves baking, construction, and lots and lots of kisses

word count: 1.9k

content warnings: oral (f receiving), spencer calls r 'sweet girl', minors dni

"Yours looks so much better than mine," you whined, looking over at Spencer's gingerbread house, perfectly cut panels holding together to form a house while yours sagged at an angle.

"It's not that bad," he replied, if only to make you feel better and shifted closer to see if he could fix the angle of it, and you peered over his shoulder, watching his nimble fingers carefully adjust the panels, reapplying icing like it was glue. "There," Spencer said, pulling his hands away... and then it sagged lower and he frowned at it, puzzled, and you stifled a giggle against his shoulder at his utter confusion. Your nose pressed into his soft woollen sweater, arms wrapping around him. "Maybe if I--"

"Just leave it," you told him, kissing his cheek, your lip balm sticky against his warm skin. Even now, 6 months into dating, his cheeks flushed at your kiss, and he looked down at you, chasing your lips, his hands finding your cheeks, fingers equally sticky with icing. It was always so earnest, filled with as much longing as the first time you'd kissed him. He doesn’t want to let go when he pulls away, but then there's a streak of icing on your cheek and he can't help a wince.

"Sorry," he said, oblivious to your dazed look, moving to wipe his hands and you let out another soft groan of protest at the loss of him, only for him to come back to gently wipe your cheeks clean. "Can I tell you something?" he asked, looking at you intently.

"Always," you replied with your sweet smile and adoring gaze.

"This is the best Christmas I've ever had," he said, putting the cloth away, and you wished you could express how much you loved him in this moment, but you've never been as articulate with your affection as him. So you do what you know best; you tugged him closer, kissing him. You could live in this moment forever, his lips on yours, sitting on the floor of your apartment. Spencer pressed you back against the couch, his hands seeking your jaw, his tongue darting to your lower lip. He's always careful with you, slow and thoughtful, his thumb gently angling your chin higher.

You parted your lips, his tongue languidly exploring your mouth. His hand carefully slid down your neck, his thumb finding your pulse and he broke for breath, placing warm gentle kisses along your soft jaw. "My sweet girl," he murmured, reaching your ear. "I could do this forever."

Your heart fluttered the way it always did. He’d called you his since the beginning, sweet girl. He’d say it often, a gentle declaration of his affection. His hand slid down, thumb tracing the collar of your sweater, his face buried in your neck as he left his own mark on you, teeth grazing gently against the soft skin and your breath hitched. “God, Spence…” He felt you shift underneath him, already overwhelmed by his touch. Your fingers tangled in his hair, tugging a little when he mouthed at your neck. One of his hands rests on your hip, his thumb brushing the skin under your sweater.

He couldn’t help himself. You felt so warm and soft, so lovely wrapped in his arms. He pushed your sweater up gently, baring more of your skin, his touch warm, and light. He could spend hours just tracing his fingers across your skin. You tasted sweet, like sugar and vanilla, and he shifted, adjusting to slide between your legs. You tilted your head back, looking up at him, your eyes slightly unfocused, lips parted with your heavy breaths. His head dipped, mouth leaving marks along your neck as he pushed your sweater up again, just over your ribs, your breath stuttering as his teeth grazed over the sensitive skin. Your hand fisted in his sweater, a needy whisper escaping you, "Spencer..."

"Let me take care of you," he murmured against your shoulder, pushing your sweater high enough for you to wordlessly lift your arms so he could toss it to one side, and he needed to catch his breath as he looked down at you. He’d seen you a hundred times before, all those soft smooth curves, your soft sighs and breathless gasps that he lived for. You were so trusting in his arms, the way your fingers threaded through his hair, your back arching when his mouth found your stomach, kissing reverently at your soft skin. “So perfect,” he murmured.

You don't have the brainpower to spare to respond with anything other than his name, said so many times that it should have lost its meaning by now, but it never does. The way it came out all breathless and needy, desperate and reverent, the way you’d call his name as he pressed you into the couch, body over yours, pinning you in place as his mouth found your skin, tracing a path along your hip. You pulled uselessly at his sweater, biting your lower lip. “So impatient, my sweet girl,” he murmured, and your whine sent a spark straight through him.

"Want to see you, angel," you pleaded and he couldn’t deny you, even if he wanted to, not when your hands already reached to push under his sweater, your hands warm on his skin and he pulled back, pulling the offending garment off completely. You smiled, looking at him fondly. "Much better," you murmured, shifting up to kiss him again, your warm lips meeting his.

He met you readily, pressing you down again, his body covering yours, a warm comfortable weight. He could never get enough of how you fit against him, the feel of your soft skin against his fingers, the way your mouth moved against him, sweet and willing. The way your legs moved to wrap around him. "Okay if I take this off?" he whispered, hands finding the waistband of your pyjama pants, beige with little cookies printed over them, hot breath fanning over your face, eyes watching you as you nod. He slid the soft material down your legs, leaving you bare before him. It was a view he loved, all your bare skin, all his to touch and explore.

Your breath hitched as his hands gently nudged your thighs further apart, and he slowly sank onto his knees between them. You let out a small groan involuntarily, just at the sight of him between your thighs. "Angel..."

He shushed you gently, fingers tracing circles on your thighs, so close to where you wanted him. His eyes roamed over you, taking in every detail, your breathing and the way your legs twitched. “Just relax, my sweet girl,” he murmured, his thumbs rubbing soothing strokes across your skin.

"You're not making it easy," you muttered back.

He couldn’t help the smile at your comment, his hands slowly shifting your legs, lifting them to pull off your panties, and he could feel the way your breath caught, your body shifting slightly to help. He was so close to you he could practically feel your heat against his face. He was still gently running his fingers over the skin of your thighs, trying to keep you calm. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, voice impossibly soft.

His warm breath against you made your head spin, and you were too lost in the feel of his hands and mouth to do anything but gasp his name and tilt your head back. You were so wet, so needy for him, and you couldn’t help the way your legs shifted, pleading for more. He gently nudged at them, spreading you open further for him. He looked up at you, eyes dark with desire, the sight of you underneath him, leaning back against the foot of the couch, your chest heaving and your body tense, just for him.

He leaned in, and he didn’t miss the way your body jolted when his tongue licked over you, and he hummed against your skin. You tasted so sweet, so perfect, and he was slowly getting addicted to the taste, his hands holding your thighs in place as he slowly explored you. He’d wanted to make you fall apart, the way you’d done so many times for him, bringing him to the knife’s edge before pulling him over. But he couldn’t wait long, and he pushed forward, his tongue circling before he suddenly thrust forward, tasting as much of you as he could.

The effect was instant, and he felt you jerk against him, your gasp turning into a long moan. The sound made his hands squeeze at your thighs, wanting you closer. You were always so responsive to him, so sensitive, and you were already on edge from his light teasing. He loved the sounds you made, all those soft noises that you seemed unable to help when he was like this. He loved the way your skin felt under his hands, the way you would pull and tug at his hair when he was teasing you. He loved the way you felt, warm and soft all around him. He loved you, and he wanted you to fall apart. He was almost relentless, tongue working over you, delving into you, wanting you to come completely undone.

He didn’t want to pull away, wanted to keep going, to take you as close as he could, but you were already teetering on the edge, so close to climax. He loved how responsive you were, how he could pull those sweet moans and gasps so easily from you with just a few caresses. He wanted to see you come, wanted to feel your body shaking against him. He pulled back for a second, breathless, his voice already wrecked from how sweet you sounded, “Come for me, my sweet girl."

Your fingers scrabbled for his hair, needing something to hold onto as he brought you through your climax, his tongue not leaving you until you were begging him to stop, your body sensitive and overwhelmed. He let his hands gently trail across your thighs as you fell back onto the couch, boneless and still quivering. He couldn’t help a little smile at how wrecked you looked, your hair falling over your eyes, your body trembling. And yet you still looked beautiful, your bare body on display for him, your skin flush and warm. He shifted forward, his lips gently kissing your stomach and travelling up your body, until he laid down on top of you, his weight carefully resting between your legs, his head buried in your neck.

"I love you," you whispered, holding him, your fingers trailing over his back.

He lifted his head at your words, still so touched by your sweetness. After all this time, you still managed to surprise him. He shifted, propping himself up on an elbow to look down at you, his gaze soft and adoring. “I love you more,” he murmured, reaching up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your eyes, fingers tracing the line of your jaw.

"Not possible," you murmured.

He smiled, leaning down to kiss your forehead. “Agree to disagree,” he teased, his hand gently caressing your hair, fingers carding through the messy strands. He liked you like this; soft and pliable in his arms, your body still trembling from your orgasm. His fingers traced down the side of your face, before his knuckles grazed gently over your collarbone, tracing the line of your shoulder.

"You were right," you murmured, looking at him. "Best Christmas ever. Even if I can't build a gingerbread house for the life of me."

He looked at the wreckage of the house, then back to you, hiding a smile. “You’re good at a lot of things, sweetheart, but decorating is just not your strong suit,” he teased and you huffed and shoved at his shoulder in mock offence. He just pulled you on top of him, kissing you deeply all over again.

[delespresso]

DETESTATION ━━ Fiyero x fem!reader

author's note; this was previously titled 'kiss me' lol. i cant lie, i was sort of just winging it with this one — i've been doing a lot of rivals to lovers u guys, my brain is a little confused now 😭 idk if i liked this but i hope its good! <3

prompt; “You can’t just…kiss me to win a fucking argument, [NAME]!” “You’re right…but did it work?” ps; i changed it up a bit, oops

summary; the constant back and forth was totally out of total detestation. . . right?

━━ ☄. *. ⋆

It was the third invite to the Ozdust Ballroom within the month.

Ever since the Winkie Prince showed up at Shiz a few months back, he's been influencing quite a few trips to the scandalocious venue. In fact — he started it immediately on his first day.

She didn't plan on going this time either. Even if the invite had come directly from him, while he was following her tail all over campus.

"C'mon, princess, it'll be fun," Fiyero urged as he walked behind her like a little puppy.

Typically, she refused to even be in his vicinity. With her luck though, somehow Doctor Dillamond decided he needed a tutor to push him through history class — so of course, she was chosen, being the current top student.

"Think of it as me thanking you for helping me ace history," Fiyero continued.

He did, in fact, ace his history after that. A whole A solid.

"For the millionth time, Fiyero, no," she huffed.

He rolled his eyes at another rejection, still following her as they found their way into the dining hall. It was sparse at the moment, they were quite early this time.

"Your welcome for history. But that's it," she added.

She grabbed a tray, starting to put food on it. As she did though, the infuriatingly charming — and annoying — prince stole a piece right out of her plate.

"You should learn to live a little. See the nightlife. Go dancing. We don't live forever, you know?"

She stared up at him as he just went on his little ramble about life.

"If you're worried about a dance partner—"

"I really don't care—"

"I'm sure Boq is very kind to help in that," Fiyero said with a sly smirk.

Respectfully, Boq was nice and cute in a way, but she would much rather drink a tub of toxic elixir.

She could only scoff in response, picking up her tray and finding a seat. Still he refused to let up.

"One night. Its just one night, it really won't kill you," Fiyero insisted.

"It won't, but I might kill you."

She set her tray down with a huff, but she didn't get the chance to sit yet before he was pestering her again.

"I've lived quite well, I wouldn't mind dying at your hands," he shrugged.

"Are you serious right now?" she scoffed. "I have a fork and knife an inch away from my hands, don't tempt me."

"Oh, how horrifying," he mock gasped.

Oh, this little—

"Truthfully, I find a death by my history tutor to be a beautiful exit," he continued with a smug grin.

"You have no sense of self preservation. My hands would be a painful way to die," she retorted.

He didn't miss a beat, grabbing her hands in his in such an oddly gentle manner that had her brain crashing for a moment.

"These soft hands? I find that hard to believe."

She blinked rapidly, just staring at the way he held her hands to his chest for no reason. Why was her head spinning? Why was her pulse rushing?

"You're infuriating," she managed to hiss as she pulled her hands away.

Really, she had no idea why this man annoyed her so much. She felt an irrational amount of irritation when he was around. Her head would sometimes go empty when she looked at him, her heart suddenly going too fast and her stomach feeling like it was floating.

Dislike. Pure, utter, dislike. Loathing, perhaps. Detestation.

Those were the only acceptable answers.

She ended up taking her lunch to go, bringing it with her to eat somewhere else where she could escape him.

"Come dancing tonight!" he tried again even as she stomped away from him and replied over without turning back.

"Eat grass!"

It was her roommate that dragged her to the Ozdust Ballroom that night. No one else.

Certainly not the persistent, annoyingly handsome prince. No.

She allowed herself to have fun for a while, dancing around with her roommate. She didn't catch a single glimpse of him so she assumed he bailed.

She would be absolutely wrong when she ended up twirling right into his arms.

Fiyero's hands were on her waist, keeping her right there as her hands ended up on his biceps. He grinned down at her, that casual and laidback smile he always had.

"You came."

"Not because of you."

He chuckled at her quick defensiveness. It was cute to him. Taking her hand, he gave her a quick whirl before pulling her close again.

"Of course not," he agreed.

"Plenty of other reasons to come to a party," she nodded.

"Mhm."

"Nice ambience, people in nice outfits," she started to list aimlessly.

"Yes, they do dress up nice," he continued to agree.

"Good music, exceptional dancing—"

"You dance well."

"Random excuse to dress myself up too—"

"You look lovely."

"The lights are quite nice too, all blueish—"

She didn't get the chance to keep yapping when suddenly a pair of warm lips were on hers. It felt like she was on fire. A good kind of fire. When she opened her eyes again and their lips parted, she met his gaze under the lights.

Her lips were parted, her breath catching. Her face was definitely flushing and Oz— her head was reeling. She was too flustered she ended up fumbling her words.

"You can't just kiss me to win an argument, Fiyero!"

He laughed at her reaction. In hindsight, he should've probably not do it out of nowhere. But her reaction was priceless.

"Yeah, probably not. But it shut you up," he mused.

She stared up at him, eyes wide as she was clearly baffled.

"You need to stop finding excuses, princess," he teased, giving her yet another whirl.

Her dress flared out before she ended up back with him, flush against his chest. Whatever she felt for him was strong. Though she was starting to suspect it wasn't actually detestation.

She'd likely been in denial.

"You need to not kiss someone without permission," she retorted anyway.

Fiyero only smiled, but at least he nodded sincerely with a bit of a shrug.

"Fair enough. Sorry," he agreed. "Can I have a redo?"

She raised a single brow up at him, this time catching up with the dance way better than when she initially ended up in his arms. A coy, almost teasing smile pulled on her lips as she casually ended up leading the dance.

"Let's see your dancing first, Winkie Prince."

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[livroni]

I hold them as close to me as possible. I knew this had to come eventually, but did it have to be so damn soon? How am I supposed to tell them that everyone they know will come to pass long before they even mature? How am I supposed to tell them that I wont be by there side every step of the way. I hold them closer still.

We stay like that for what feels like hours. I dont think either of us want to let go, as if doing so the other will fade out of reality like a dream.

Dreams. I always dreamed of being a parent. I always dreamed to teach a little creature to walk, to talk, to learn to experience the joys and hold their hand through the pains. But. I cant do that, can I? I take a deep breath, Sorting out emotion and logic, rational. My child needs a parent right now. They need that hand to guide them through the uncertainty so they can learn to pass the brambles on their own.

“I love you. I will always love you. Beyond this plane and further, even the gods know my love for you.“

“If you love me so, how could you leave me alone?” She looked up at me. Those wide, wide icy gray eyes. How I remember them peering the world with wild curiosity, the way they lit up when i taught them how to eat Honeysuckles, the way they shone when reading of myths and monsters, the way they focused when helping another being. Now? They looked to me with longing.

“My child, I have many more years left with you. And yes, you will have to walk this path alone one day. It is just the way the world works.”

“Thats stupid.”

“It is. It is very stupid. But nothing physical lives forever. You will die one day too.” I pause, and hope the words resonate with them. Im so terrified to put more fear into her gentle heart. They are quite delicate, children. Bluntness is required, but painful. And I would never lie to them.

“But even then, my love for you for you transcends the planes. Including the planes which separate life and death. While I may very well die one day, my love for you wont. My hand will always be in yours, my child. I will always, always be there for you.”

She sobs again, but its not as pained before. We cry together a bit more. I sing them a lullaby (their favourite). And my child, my sweet strong gentle loving child, falls asleep. Tomorrow will be a day full of fun and joy, I promise them that.

You're a single human parent of a Elf child, today has you ready yourself for bed you hear them burst open the door with tears in their eye as they jump into bed with you and hold onto you tight, has you comfort them you hear them say through their whimpering and sobs "i don't want you to die".

[cupidhoons]

+1 new notification from cupidhoons

( 엔하이픈 ) ─── PRESENTS ⟡ how boyfriend! enhypen would react to you saying that you're their present

enhypen x separate! reader

fluff ⋅ 6OO

n. merry christmas eve to you all 😼

HEESEUNG would definitely be amused. He would look at you with confusion when you suddenly appear in the living room in front of him with wrapping paper around your body, and then would just laugh at how silly you look���but he'd be so sweet about it.

“You’re saying you’re the best present? Not going to argue with that,” he says, pulling you into a warm hug. “But does this mean I can keep unwrapping you forever?”

JAY would be extremely cocky. So cocky, in fact he even claims that he “doesn't need” the rest of the gifts he received from everyone else, just you. He definitely teases you afterwards too, calling you “my gift” for the rest of the day.

“Oh, so you’re my big present, huh?” he says teasingly, raising an eyebrow. He leans in, wispering to you in a hushed voice, “could my gift give me a kiss by any chance?”

JAKE would burst out into giggles. His eyes would twinkle in amusement and adoration for you when you enter the room. But, as much as he giggles, he would be so touched and would want to spend time with you the rest of the day at home.

“Aww, that’s so cheesy, but I love it,” he says. He pulls you into a long, tight, hug as he showers you with kisses, saying “Best. Gift. Ever,” between them.

SUNGHOON would try so hard to be nonchalant, only giving you a small smirk and making teasing remarks about the way you wrapped yourself in gift paper. Though, as much as he teases, he secretly enjoys it, and you would catch him cheesing over you from afar.

“Is that so? Lucky me.” he says with a smirk, acting as though his ears weren't turning pink. But, eventually, he'd pull you close and mutter, “I wouldn’t trade you for anything.”

SUNOO would act dramatic when you reveal the big surprise. He'd gasp and put a hand over his mouth while you stood in front of him. You would see the way his eyes sparkle as he pretends to inspect you like an actual gift.

“You’re my present?! I must be the luckiest person alive!” he says with a playful sparkle in his eyes. He pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek. “You really are the best present I could ask for.”

JUNGWON would simply let out a small laugh. He would laugh, but his eyes would twinkle with full love and affection when you enter the room. His dimples would come out and he would be smiling so hard to the point where it hurts. He feels like he fell in love one hundred times harder than before.

“You really know how to make me smile,” he says, shaking his head in amusement. He gently takes your hands and says, “If you’re my present, then I’ll take care of you like the most important thing I have.”

RIKI would act cool about it, like he doesn't even care. His cool demeanor would be so annoying to the point where you just wanna smack that dumb look off his face when you see it. Though, the whole demeanor doesn't last very long, as he eventually caves in and confesses that you're the best present he got.

“Oh, so you’re my present? That’s kind of bold of you,” he says teasingly. He looks at you for a good 10 seconds before breaking in to a grin, giggling to himself how cute you are. “Okay, fine. Best present ever. Can I open this gift now?”

[xxacidnekoxx]

Having a lot of good conversations with people lately that have been making me feel like ... The sky opening up like making me feel like everything is gonna be okay and I can talk and I don't have to walk on eggshells I feel the most normal I ever felt. I can be myself and I'm loved for it and it's going to be okay. I can express myself and it feels normal I don't feel like a weirdo anymore I know people who remind me of myself and I feel not alone . I have been laughing a lot I have been feeling creative I have been feeling connected in ways that I thought were gone forever but it's okay now it was a long time of hating myself but I'm in love with myself now. I have support network people will even stick up for me and that's more than I could even ask.. people know me. I feel safe it is going to be okay and I will go at my own pace and be myself and I want to live life and experience things and make games

[sun-kissy]

okay, so i'm here for a an ask for each of your cutesy celebration, so be ready for a little spam ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

first, since you seem a bit cold so lemme wrap you with a

🧣scarf with Sirius and could the prompt be "wanna cuddle? you know, just to keep warm." and "so, how much longer do you plan on using me as your personal space heater?" from the cold prompts

love you very very much, san (๑>◡<๑)

ivy, my love! here's your scarf, thank you so much for the request <333 🧣

forever | s.b.

— "Wanna cuddle? You know, just to keep warm." & "So, how much longer do you plan on using me as your personal space heater?"

sirius black x reader

summary: you're cold, and you're in love with sirius

tw: smoking, fluff

Sirius sighs and tips his head back, wisps of delicate smoke rising from his lips. You knew angels would fawn over his loveliness if they could see him like this. He brings the cigarette away from his mouth, catching your stare with a smile. “No cigarettes in the house, I know.”

“I’d really prefer no cigarettes at all, but yeah, that’s the bare minimum,” you murmur, placing his mug of coffee on the table before curling up on the other end of the couch with yours.

Sirius was at your place for the holidays. Your roommate was out for the week, and you hated spending Christmas, or anything really, alone. James was back home with family and Remus was celebrating it with his girl. That left Sirius. Just Sirius, which did awful things to your heart.

He flashes you another grin, and this time has the dignity to look at least slightly apologetic. He doesn’t snuff the cigarette out. You don’t ask him to.

You lean back with your gaze on him, holding your breath so as to not inhale anything you wouldn’t want to. Sirius stares back at you.

“What?”

“Nothing! Just —“ you exhale, scrunching up your face. “At least blow it away from me?”

“But then I can’t look at your pretty face,” he retorts, tilting his head teasingly.

Your heart twists someway crummy behind your ribs. “Sirius.”

“Okay, okay,” he huffs out, shifting slightly so he’s facing the television. “Happy?”

“Very. Thank you,” you mutter, rolling your eyes when he chuckles and shakes his head.

A couple of minutes pass by, a comfortable silence falling over the two of you. He stares at the wall; you at him. Sirius is always pretty – but prettier like this. You know it’s impossible, but his cheekbones seem to soften when the smoke leaves his pale lips. His eyes flutter shut when he sighs.

You feel your heart swell a little, like the poisoned gas he’s blowing out is filling you up in the shape of love.

Sirius catches you. “What now?”

“Nothing.”

You pause. Christmas was tomorrow. A few other friends would be coming over, and you’d lose Sirius in the sea of them. He’d pack his bags and leave the next morning, and you’d lose him from your apartment. But you had him today. His heart sat unguarded, in plain sight. Maybe he had girls left, right and centre latching their claws onto it the moment he stepped out. But for tonight, you could take it with the tips of your fingers, hold it in the palm of your hands and cradle it close to yours.

“Actually,” you speak up. Sirius startles, looking back around at you curiously.

“Do you wanna…” you clear your throat, smoke from his pretty lips blowing over you like a fog. A fog you’d love to get lost in. “Wanna cuddle? You know, just to keep warm.”

He looks confused for a moment, and you’re sure you’ve screwed it up. Sirius was never going to come over again, and he’d warn Remus and James not to either. You were going to end up a loner with a broken heart.

“Sure.”

You blink, surprised. “Huh?”

Sirius smiles, and it’s every lovely word you could ever think of. “I said sure. Get over here, babe.”

It should’ve been embarrassing how quickly you crawled over to him, but you can’t feel it right now, every little bit of your heart taken up by some form of love. The fat of your thigh melds into his as you press up to him cross legged.

Sirius is always gentle with his touch, but somehow kinder now. He snuffs the cigarette out in the ashtray on the table; the one you bought just because he always came over. He curls his palm around the curve of your hip, and you think maybe that’s what your love handles were for, for him to love.

“You good?”

I’m more than good, I’m happy. I love you. “Yeah.”

“Good,” he murmurs, pulling you impossibly closer. You’d say your heart was doing flips; but you can’t feel it from how hard you’re squished up against him. You let yourself close your eyes. 

You stay like that for a while. Sirius is thinking about warming you up, you are thinking about how much love he had to have for you, to let you hug him on a random Tuesday and hold you like you’re fragile. Too much love. Not as much as you, though, you’re sure of it.

“So,” Sirius starts softly, as soft as his touch where he’s rubbing your hip. “How much longer do you plan on using me as your personal space heater?”

There’s an undertone of teasing you decide to ignore. It’s laden with love, and love is all you need. “As long as you’ll allow.”

“Hm,” he muses, lips quirking up as he wraps his other arm around your waist too. It’s your lucky day, you think. “My arms have no curfew, sweetheart. They’re content to hold you as long as you please.”

You smile. Sirius can’t see it, but he can feel it. You mumble something incoherent as you turn your face into his chest, but it sounds suspiciously like forever.

san's christmas sleepover

[sierrale8ne]

40 DAYS AND 40 NIGHTS CHAPTER FIFTEEN

thought i’d be lying if i said ‘i didn’t want you to myself.’ when you look me in my eyes and, tell me that it’s mine, i…

pairing wnba!paige bueckers x singer!oc

taglist @thaatdigitaldiary @ohbueckers @wbbgetsmewetter @rosemariiaa @tndaqlifwy @pboogerswbb @xxloveralways14 @makethemhoesmad @slvt4her @luvapaigeeyy @hedidnotpleaseme @paigesbabygirl @mopopshop @omg-imtumbling @numberonepartyanth3m @wbb4l @authentic-girl03 @slut4uconnwbb @unadulteratedcyclepaper @kplum10 @fuddfanatic35 @avvwritesstufff @paigesluver @bueckersbitch @ryywyd

warnings sexual innuendos, yall are getting edged one last time 🙂‍↔️

kalena speakss 🪽! it’s finally here, everyone say thank you to sza cs without her album this wasn’t getting done. one more chapter after this one, i can’t believe it mannnnn 🥹

July 2025 — San Diego, California 

My hands are sweating more than they have ever before. I sit in silence in the driver's seat of my jeep, the car parked in the driveway. It’s a beautiful house. Costal, and fucking huge. There’s a four car garage and a driveway so big you could probably park two more cars next to mine. 

This car ride was definitely eye opening to say the least. In no world would you ever catch me driving more than 30 minutes let alone two hours to see another woman. 

I’d only ever do it for Maraye.

She’s heaven sent, just a completely unbelievable human being, and the second she sent that address I was in that car faster than I could blink.

It was always going to be her.

The sound of my foot bouncing on the car floor echos off the walls and I take that as the cue to go inside, I’ve been sitting here forever. I turn off my engine, sticking the keys in the pocket of my shorts before taking a deep breath. 

My feet feel heavy as they drag towards the wooden steps. Cedar fills my nose and calms me down, just enough.

The door swings open before I can even touch the handle.

I’m not sure if I should be pissed that Maraye looks so happy or, well, happy for her. She’s glowing, skin tanner than when I last saw her. Her curls look perfect, shiny and bouncy, perfectly framing her face. She got on these striped shorts that leave too much for my imagination and a USC Trojans cropped shirt. (Remind me to burn that.)

“You didn’t show up.”

I’m instantly taken aback by the immediate comment. My eyebrows furrow and I blink back my confusion.

“I—Huh?”

“My show. I wanted you there and you didn’t come.” She elaborates, crossing her arms over her chest and suddenly I’m losing focus and staring right there. 

I can’t help the laugh that escapes my throat, a smile spreads across my face. “That’s what you wanna talk to me ‘bout? Really?”

Maraye frowns, adjusting her position on her foot. I know she’s trying to look upset, and she probably is, but that fucking pout of her lips is the cutest thing I think I’ve ever seen.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” I admit. “But y’know we should prolly talk about something else.” My eyes squint as I look over her body. Just briefly I notice a crack in her demeanor. The sternness of her eyes slips and her lip just barely quivers. It’s like she just now realized that me being here meant talking about it.

We have to. I don’t think I’d be able to go to Indiana, knowing that she’s in the stands without knowing if she hates my guts or not.

Raye sighs, but it comes off more as a deep breath. Her arms drop to her sides and she moves from the doorway, giving just enough room for me to step inside.

She doesn’t say a word, just walking into the house like there’s nothing more to say. But I follow her anyway, looking like a lost puppy and staring at her so hard I damn near forget to lock the door.

This house is way bigger than I thought it would be, I swear I walked past a game room and a gym within three seconds of one another. It has an older style, hardwood floors and cream carpets. The lighting is dim and aside from the natural light that comes from the windows, the chandeliers from the ceiling illuminate the room with a yellow light.

After what feels like hours of walking, she stops, opening another door and revealing the balcony.

“Your grandma had nice taste. This place is crazy.” I comment, looking slightly shocked. I knew the places in San Diego were nice but goddamn. 

Raye lets out a breathy laugh, approaching the outdoor seating area. It’s dark, but the fireplace that glows bright orange and yellow is more than enough for her to see me and for me to see her. She sits down without a word and I do too, right next to her on the off-white colored couch.

I can feel the warmth that radiates off her body, almost hotter than the fire itself. She crosses her legs under her as she sits and the movement of her thighs sends me into orbit. 

“I’m not gonna say anything.” She speaks up, looking at me with her tongue trailing over her bottom lip.

I look at her incredulously. “Really? You ain’t gonna say shit?”

Maraye nods slowly. “Last time I saw you, I didn’t let you talk. So I’m lettin’ you talk now, you have the floor.” She gestures to the space in front of us. “I promise.”

“You swear?”

She makes a big show of zipping her lips and tossing the imaginary key behind her and it’s things like that, that make me crazy over her. The theatrics and the laughs, she’s so unapologetically herself around me all the time, even when I piss her off and she wants to put my head on a platter.

“I swear.” She smiles, turning her full attention to me.

I clear my throat, suddenly feeling the pressure of this whole situation on my shoulder again. She’s the only person in the world that without fail makes my head empty. Raye looks at me, and within seconds I’ve lost everything that I’ve been practicing on saying in the car.

“Um. Fuck,” I sigh, shaking my head. “Ion even have a fuckin’ excuse for you. I jus’— I fucked up. Drank too much, saw her, I thought you were with Julian, and I made a big mistake, Raye.”

—

Hearing Paige say all that, made my throat tighten and my chest get all heavy all over again, the same way it did when I found out everything two weeks ago.

She can’t even look at me as she speaks, and that alone lets me know she’s telling the truth. That she feels bad, maybe even worse than what she says.

“You got every right to be mad at me.” She admits, she takes a breath with every few words. It’s like she’s having a shortcoming just by trying to apologize. 

A small part of me is happy to see her all stressed out like this, as if I think she deserves it. But I also fucking hate watching her struggle to get her words together. Normally she’s so confident, it’s the first time I think I’ve ever seen her so unsure of herself.

“I’m so sorry for everything. I always told you that you have a right to be upset or get emotional about things that people say, ‘cause you’re always thinkin’ you don’t get that luxury when you do.” Paige plays with her hands and it’s then when I notice the silver band on her pinky finger. “But as soon as you got mad at me, I told you that you don’t have a right to be mad.”

I nod, remembering it all. The downside of remembering everything is that I had to relive every word that she said to me that day when I woke up and when I went to bed and even in my sleep. 

“Paige it’s—”

“Nah, you said I have the floor, right? Swore you weren’t gon’ say shit.” She points at me with one finger, her other pointer finger over her lips. Very obviously telling me to shut up, and I do. 

I can’t help but smile at her. I think even now, with her hair in that messy ass bun and the purple star patch on her chin, she’s the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen. 

“You got every right in the world to be mad at me, because what I did to you was unforgivable.” Paige finally looks up at me and I think I’m about to drown in those eyes. “I made you cry, Raye. I’d never seen you cry before and I’m never gonna forget that shit. I’m so fuckin’ sorry.”

I sniffle a little at her words. Hearing it from her lips while she looks at me is completely different from over the phone. 

I’m actually very glad that I waited this long, because the silence on my end completely aids in making sure I listen. Like actually listening, I’m not thinking of a rebuttal, or a way to defend myself, I’m just listening. Taking it all in.

Paige runs a hand over her chin. I know that action. She does it whenever she’s frustrated, or thinking, I don’t think she’s ever done it before with me; other than when she’s trying to get in my pants. But she does it all the time in her postgame interviews.

“I can’t go this long without speakin’ to you, Raye. You just… you’re so much different than anyone I’ve ever met. You’re fuckin’ special and— I wanna try this. Us.”

It’s certain, the most certain I’ve heard Paige be since she sat down. “If y’ont want that it’s fine too. We can be friends, or even fuckin’ acquaintances, I just— I can’t imagine my life without you in it. You left your mark, permanently.”

My breath hitches. I can’t imagine my life without you in it. She doesn’t even stutter when she says that, and it brings tears to my waterline. I already know I’m falling for every word she says. 

I do it because she looks at me like I’ve hung the moon and the stars. Her body is even closer to mine than it was before, I can see every single shift in the blue of her eyes, every ridge of her face, I can point each brown eyelash on her eyes. I’d fall for any and everything she said if it meant I had her here. Close like this.

“You uh, you told me that I don’t know you. And I think you’re wrong.” It takes me aback briefly. I wasn’t expecting it from her, especially not right now. “I know what makes you smile, how to make you laugh, how to get on your nerves.”

I roll my eyes at Paige instantly. So hard that they were probably a few millimeters away from getting stuck in the back of my head.

She laughs, that full, high pitched laugh that I’ve missed so fucking bad. “I mean you got a point. Ion know where your parents are from or your favorite show or how you like your coffee. Or if you even like coffee. Do you? I’m getting distracted.

“—I do like coffee—” I butted in briefly, any attempt to ease her obvious growing anxiety.

“—But I know enough to know that I want you and only you. You’re it for me, Raye. And I swear to God I’ll do right by you if you give me a chance. Teach me how to be your person and I’ll teach you.”

Paige sighs and I let a similar one slip from my lips too.

“Jus’ please. I’m sorry.”

My heart feels heavy with everything she’s just said to me. I know I should forgive her, every bone in my body wants me too. 

Then there’s that small part of me that doubts her just a bit. It’s the same part that creates an image of her and that girl almost everyday, the same part that doesn’t allow me to give people second chances. 

I don’t even notice the tear that slipped until I’m dropping my head in my hands and I feel it. My palms run across the expanse of my face. “I can talk now?” I tease.

“Yeah, ma. You can.” Paige shakes her head in pure amusement, not even trying to fight off the grin on her face.

“It’s so hard to stay mad at you when you say shit like that.” I groan. “Ion give people second chances, Paige. Y’know that.”

“Technically, you didn’t give me a real first chance ‘cause you had a boyfriend.” She says pointedly, bobbing her hands as if she’s trying to convince me of my options. “Can you forgive me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You wan’ me to get on my knees? I’ll do it, I’ll beg.”

I’m laughing but Paige is completely serious, slipping off the cushion and looking at me expectantly.

“Y’ont have t—”

But she’s already doing it, sinking to her knees below the couch and looking up at me with that damn pout of hers. “—Please, Raye. Gimme another chance, angel. I’ll do anything. Please?”

There’s no one here but me and her, yet the sight of her on her knees is enough to make me burst out in that kind of embarrassed laughter. “Can you get up?” I grit through my teeth.

“Girl, I’m on my knees!” Paige sings horrendously, and I roll my eyes again at her song reference. No way this girl thought she was gonna sing some Lloyd to convince me.

“Shut up and stand up, Madison.” I say again, attempting to pull her up by her biceps that have definitely gotten bigger in these last few weeks.

“Answer me first.”

“Yes, yes okay. I forgive you, just get up!” I giggle, covering my eyes with my palm until I feel the cushion dip beside me. “Oh my God, you’re not real.” I mumble, finally dropping my hand to see how proud she is of herself. 

“C’mere.” She instructs with a smile, opening her arms and I waist maybe a second of time before I’m turning and wrapping my arms around her neck.

Her shampoo wafts through the night air and straight to my nose, the cool zipper of her grey tech jacket against my stomach makes me jump a little bit, but she holds me there, tight to her body with her head in my neck.

“I fuckin’ missed you, dude.” Paige inhales. Only she could go from being sappy to calling me dude all in the same breath. It’s so uniquely Paige.

“I missed you too.” I sigh, breathing in her scent again.

I don’t think I want to let go. Because she’s here, hugging me like I could run away at any fucking minute, running her thumb over the open space on my back that my crop top is giving her. 

I pull back to gaze at her. That look she used to give me all the time before we even started anything, it’s there. A slight lift of the apples of her cheeks and her pupils dilated like I swore they did back then. Only this time I don’t have to think it, I know it. I see it.

I trail my hands to her cheeks, my thumb over her bottom lip. And then suddenly I’m licking mine and leaning into her.

Except Paige pulls back before we get the chance to touch.

“You don’t wanna kiss me? Really?”

She chuckles, “no I do, trust me. I really really want to. But if I kiss you, I’m gonna wanna do so much more.”

“Oh so know y’ont wanna fuck me? Paige—”

“Damn, shout it from the rooftops then!” Her eyebrows furrow at my sudden vulgarity and she leans towards me more. “Trust, I wanna do a lot of that. I just wanna take you on a date more.” Paige smiles and she looks awfully proud of herself for the cute suggestion.

It is cute. The way her cheeks flush in nervousness. I let the blonde pull me into her lap fully, adjusting me perfectly on her lap. Her hands run distractingly on my thighs, so much so that I almost forget to respond to her.

“Can I take you out on a date?”

I nod almost in a trance.

“You wanna use your words, ma?”

“Uh huh.”

“You do? Y’wanna say yeah?” She’s teasing me, and finding amusement in it too.

“Yes. You can take me out.” I blink, slapping a hand against her shoulder, and then again when I hear that god awful cackle escape her. “You’re so annoying.”

Paige licks her lips, not taking a single second to look away from me as I loll my head down to face her. “Tomorrow night, after the three point? You are still goin’ to Indy, right?”

“I am. That sounds perfect, Paige.” I grin, leaning over to ghost my lips across her cheek.

I can’t help but do it again. Her skin is so soft and warm, a near perfect spot for my lips to meet over and over again until Paige is humming and tossing her head back in an attempt to keep a respectful distance. It’s cute that she doesn’t trust herself this much. Even cuter that I’m doing practically nothing and she’s falling victim to me.

“Ion know if you got the memo, but this is st—ill kissing.” She groans, pushing at my hips.

I grip her chin in my hand, pulling back just enough to turn her head in the other direction and place kisses there. “Mmm no s’not. Our lips ain’t even close.”

And I continue this for a while, my lips on her cheeks, her jaw, ghosting over the corner of her lips in hopes of making her give in to me like she’s done many times before in the past. Paige surprised me though, standing her ground.

When I look back, her bottom lip is wet and swollen. My guess from biting it too many times. She’s breathless, and anyone else would’ve thought I’d just made her finish right here.

“I— I need to get back home. I got a flight at four.” Paige mumbles, darting her tongue over her lips.

I frown. “Fly with me from here, then.”

“My bags are at home, ma. And aren’t you flyin’ out private?” She questions, sending a pinch to my hip.

“Yes… so? I’ll call and reroute from LAX and you can come with me.” I shrug as if it’s that simple, and it probably could be if I call the right people.

Paige smirks that infamous fucking smirk. “Ion do small planes, angel. You know this. S’cute that you wanna be with me that bad, tho.”

I cross my arms over my chest, pouting. “Please, please, please?”

—

July 2025 — Somewhere over Nevada

I need to find some kind of ground to stand on when It comes to this woman.

My hands clutch my armrests, eyes squeezed shut, and head tossed back. 

I’m not scared of heights. Before anyone starts thinking that. I’m scared of tiny ass planes and not enough people on them. It was fine when we were on the ground, but the second the flight attendants were out of view and I had to get strapped in I almost shit myself.

“Paige, you can relax.” I hear Maraye giggle from in front of me, her feet resting in my lap to attempt to ground me. It worked out a little, then she started fucking around and nudging her heel a little too close to my core and all of a sudden I was trying to distract myself from something other than the plane. “P?”

“What?”

The sound of her seat belt clinging cuts through the silence, and then her feet are leaving my body and instead I feel her; all of her. Raye grips my hands, peeling the from the arms of the chair. My eyes shoot open at the contact. 

“What the hell are you doin’? Sit down.” I tell her, slightly tripping out over this flight some more. 

She gets smart, straddling my lap and sitting on it rather than in her seat. I let out a groan because I know that any other time I’d be all over this shit. Since last night, after I told her I was holding out at least until our date, she’s made a very big show of trying to get me to fold. 

First on the drive back to LA, her hand drawing patterns on my free hand, or reaching over to play with my hair. She had perfect hands. Long, slender, fingers with a shade of deep royal purple manicured on her nails. They’re fucking soft too, prefect enough to distract me while I was driving. I couldn’t help but think about how they’d feel inside me. Or circling my clit, feeling my wetness from her alone. That’s how I knew I was in so deep, when I was thinking about Raye fucking me numb just from her touching my hand.

She was talking some crazy shit too, which on any other occasion I’d be willing to handle that. But I was serious. Our relationship wasn’t going to be started on the basis of sex. I wanted to do it right. She slept In my guest bedroom because I knew If we shared a bed we wouldn’t be sleeping. Rather anything but that.

The car ride this morning was similar. Which made me realize she wasn’t doing all this just to prove a point, but because she needed me. When she told me she’d had a dream about me, told me all the details in which that dream entailed, I was about to make her wish come true and get on the floor of the passenger seat and shove my tongue so deep inside her that she saw stars. And I knew she would’ve enjoyed every minute because Raye let me know from her own mouth that she would.

Which made my brief period of celibacy nearly impossible.

She’s also not wearing clothes.

Well, she is, but not really. Her top is tiny, a sliver of fabric that barely covers her tits and shorts that ride up as soon as she gets comfortable on my lap.

“You wanna yell at me like that again?” Raye looks at me crazy, a bite of her lip and a tilt of her head that makes my entire body melt into a puddle in this seat.

“You so freaked out.” I groan, hold her hips in place. “Why the hell did I let you convince me to do this shit.” I wonder aloud trying to avoid looking out the window, noticing the obvious racing of my heart. Except I don’t know if it’s because of the plane of because of her ass pressing up on me. Her hips grinding on mine, her covered cunt dragging across the seam of my shorts.

She shrugs while trailing a finger down the obvious vein in my neck. “I dunno. You could’ve told me no.”

The slight movement pushed her tits even closer to my face and I know I’m about to either pass out or take her right here. Spread her out, rip these tiny ass pieces of fabric off her body, and drive my fingers inside her until she’s falling apart for every crew member of this plane to hear.

“Killin’ me here, ma. Move over a lil bit.” I ask, clutching a hand at her side, stilling her as much as I can and running my thumb over her ribcage. That’s where I finally see it. That damned tattoo that had me reeling on my bedroom floor last night. 

John 13:7.

I think it’s the worst time for it to be staring at me, mostly because I’m thinking some very not-so-holy thoughts. She’s testing every bit of my resolve at the moment, I was confident in my ability to hold out, but we have maybe two more hours before landing, and Maraye looks like she’s going to make me work for it the whole time.

Raye catches me staring, and she pushes a stand of hair out of her own face. “You like it?”

I nod wordlessly. Every single part of her is mesmerizing. All the ink, and then that brown of her skin is addicting. Tan lines peeking out of that tube top and up out of the waistband of her shorts.

I dig into my own shorts, pulling my phone out of my pocket before flipping the screen towards her. The same bible quote on my lock screen almost as if it was fate.

She smiles, pressing her hands to my shoulder and laughing breathily. “We're just on the same wavelength, huh?” Raye asks, I’m about to answer when she presses down harder on my lap, testing every single bit of self control I have left with just one simple movement.

“Mmhmm. Same shit, baby.”

[mixingandmelting]

Hello! I was wondering if you'd quite something based on the bat boys (or just Jason) reaction to realizing they liked having a normal life?

Like they go to visit the readers' family for Xmas, but their family left without letting them know, so they had the whole house to themselves, so they got to play house. It was in a whole other state, so no needing to be vigilantes. Just them with their s/o getting ready for Christmas, being shown around and just living a normal life for a few weeks.

A/N: Hope you don't mind me not writing about Duke and Damian since they're both minors so legally speaking they can't really travel out-of-state alone. Plus to be real, I highly doubt Batman would want to leave Damian unsupervised considering what happens when he's alone 😔

Dick:

His whole life he was anything but normal, being raised in a circus and now, fighting crimes 24/7. Excitement, action, danger, and adventures are what defines him and how he had always dreamt of how his life would go on. But here he is, tasting “normal” for the first time in his life by spending the holiday with you in the house you were raised in. Snowball fights and building snowmen delays the process of clearing the snow. Not to forget the snow angels that are made once he playfully tackles you down into the snow after you manage to get more on him than yourself. Putting up the lights and decoration both inside and outside of the house was more fun than the times he helped out at the Wayne manor, while finding out shopping for anything during the holiday season is a battle of its own. Adding that to the daily routine that’s usually gone through on his days off every day,  it’s… quiet and peaceful. He doesn’t wake up to sirens or violence. He’s not worried about another mission, instead figuring out how he’ll get your present under the tree without getting caught. You greeting him at the door, placing a kiss on his cheeks that are slightly bitten from frost when it’s decided he’s moving the snow on his own makes him so fuzzy, he starts calling you honey over babe. The most mind boggling about this? He doesn't mind it. It’s hard to accept that he actually likes “normal”. He’s confused over liking a concept that’s completely foreign to him and with his personality, he won’t last long with living with “normal” forever. The happy couple/marriage vibe though? He’s on board and digs it, one-hundred percent. Especially in a house filled with childhood memories, it’s giving him ideas and changing what he perhaps would want in the future in ways he wouldn’t think of back then.

Jason:

Considering his childhood and how he went through the whole reincarnation cycle of dying and then reviving, it’s a desire he had as a kid but gave up right away. He didn’t even fathom that a day would come where he would experience what it would be like to be normal. Walking around and staying in the typical home most average people live in made him tense the first three days, even more so knowing this was where you lived since a child. Moving snow with you becomes his favorite pastime, where you’d distract from getting the job done and have him chase after you from the snowball that hits his back. Or bringing out steaming hot chocolate so his nose and hands would stop feeling as if they’re ready to fall off from the cold after cleaning up and helping you build a snow fort of all things. His hands are frequently on your waist from holding you up to string the lights and hang the decorations after you frown from his “aesthetic” way of placing them, pushing him to move aside so you could show how a real pro does it. It’s also his first time struggling to find time to get a present behind your back from being with you all the time. Eating meals together, taking walks together around the neighborhood and city, acting as bodyguard during grocery and Christmas shopping, spending time together as a couple in general in a house that’s warm, cozy, and peaceful as Jason Todd is a first. Not as Robin once dead and revived or Red Hood, the violent outlaw.  It’s a wish once buried in his heart on top of another where he’s spending time with you that comes true before the holiday. He’s emotional from being so happy, he doesn’t think of anything else other than wanting to live like this for the rest of his life.

Tim:

Contrary to the stereotypes depicted by the media, rich kids don’t spend time with their family; it's usually spent with their nanny as their parents leave them for long periods of time in a house too large for two people. Sure over the years he has healed with his friends and a new family. But it feels like a dream come true with you. He’s laughing and enjoying the soft fluffiness of white that gets all over him, freezing his nose and hands when he tries to clear the snow. He gets into it with you over how the lights and decorations should be placed inside and outside the house when you mentioned you want to outdo your neighbors, a set of blueprints and sketches drawn while debating that rainbow lights were better than the flickering, white ones. To much of his chagrin, he’s fumbling with all the things you toss at him when he helps you shop, him being in charge of the shopping cart as he stays in-line as you grab and bring back what’s needed in the store. Not that he’s complaining, his face suddenly tinted in red when you come back and slip your hand between his hand and the handle during the wait for the next opened cashier. Surprisingly enough, he doesn’t struggle with getting you a Christmas present and placing it under the tree. He had been keeping tabs since the day after Valentine’s Day on the things you’ve been looking at while relying on your habits he memorized to time things perfectly. Similar to Jason, he, too, wanted to live normally like any other person. Him getting to do that by prepping for the holiday with you heals the child in him, making him content and wishing the time the two of you currently have lasts forever.

[hopcneverdies]

when hans looked at june, he couldn’t help but mirror his smile, his own lips tugging upwards with the light teasing. it was like he was discovering a new side to june every day, and this particular day’s discovery was rather enticing. 

“i suppose that’s what makes us perfect. we teach each other what love is,” he said, closing his eyes instinctively as june’s kiss pressed over the hollow of his throat, the gesture so gentle yet awakening hans’ every fiber fully, his heartbeat going faster, consumed by this moment of bliss.

closing his eyes, going by feeling, was a show of complete trust, of hans letting june know that he trusted him completely with every bit of him. that here, in their shared space, they could touch each other and know that it always means love. “we don’t have to think of anything else,” he whispered, tugging gently at fistfuls of june’s hair, a soft warning, and an urge to keep going.

when june kissed him again, his own hands moved to cup june’s face, keeping him steady as they both savored the moment. and when their lips parted, hans’ thumbs traced over the curve of his lips, those very same lips that whispered words of love and kissed all of hans’ thoughts away. “i really do love you,” he said with unmistakeable conviction, the words spoken with such honesty, like hans believed in nothing else. he gave their entwined hands a gentle squeeze. “even this moment already feels like forever. we will have so many forevers to share together.”

june’s lips quirked into a smile at hans’s teasing, his breath warm against his his skin as he leaned closer. he traced the curve of hans’s jawline with gentle fingers, the pads of his fingertips brushing over the slight flush there, his eyes drinking in every detail of the man in his arms. "if i’m love, then you’re the reason i know what it feels like," he murmured, his voice soft but laced with conviction.

he let his touch linger, trailing down hans’s neck, his thumb brushing over the hollow of his throat as he pressed another kiss there, slow and deliberate. "you make me want to forget everything else, you know that?" june said, his voice a low hum. he shifted slightly, settling more firmly against hans, their legs tangling beneath the blanket as he let his hand wander to rest against hans’s chest. he could feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath his palm, a reassurance that brought a smile to his lips.

he leaned in again, their foreheads brushing as he kissed hans once more, slow and tender, as if he were savoring the moment. when he pulled back, his gaze was steady, filled with an affection so deep it felt unshakable. "forever doesn’t feel like long enough," june admitted, his fingers trailing down hans’s arm to intertwine with his hand, squeezing lightly. "but i’ll take every second we get and make them count."