#and I think you can say which gifs are those
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IAN GALLAGHER + his journey with bipolar disorder
╰┈➤ “At times, being bipolar can be an all-consuming challenge, requiring a lot of stamina and even more courage, so if you’re living with this illness and functioning at all, it’s something to be proud of, not ashamed of." - Carrie Fisher
#happy world bipolar day to all my bp babies#(more thoughts at the end of the tags)#shameless#shamelessnet#shamelessedit#ian gallagher#cameron monaghan#*macygifs#bipolar disorder#hello pals how are we doin#i made this gif set in july of 2023 and never posted it because 1) i was terrified to share it and potentially see Bad Takes in the tags#and 2) because my hyperfixation was waning. and while both of those things are still mostly true (the fixation comes and goes)#i feel like it's really important to share as ian's bipolar storyline was not only so vital to his character it was a bit of representation#that isn't often given to the disorder and those (like myself) who live with it every single day#world bipolar day is a day where we can both celebrate ourselves and our resilience and also raise awareness of the reality of the disorder#which is both terrifying and beautiful at its core. this disease is not a death sentence or a sentence to an unfulfilled and miserable life#while there are challenges galore when it comes to balancing life with this disorder it IS possible to live a full and productive life#and i think it's really important to have representation of that in media - and while shameless dropped the ball on a LOT of storylines#over the years THIS is the one they really fucking nailed and i am incredibly grateful#i first started watching shameless while in the midst of a major depressive episode and i was later (finally) diagnosed during an extended#hypo/manic episode - this show and ian's storyline got me through so much and made me feel so seen and validated in my struggles#world bipolar day is also vincent van gogh's birthday (happy birthday buddy) who was posthumously diagnosed with bipolar disorder#and who experienced both depressive and hypo/manic episodes during his lifetime (and was regularly institutionalized)#it takes a lot of help and support to keep us going. it takes the support of our family and friends and *most* of all#it takes patience and kindness and understanding - which is so so so easy to give if you are willing to love and listen#so please. be willing. listen to our stories. be patient with us. show us love without conditions. support us in any way you can.#we are worth it#i promise#anyway. that's really all i wanted to say. happy world bipolar day to those who celebrate (me) and may all of us living with this disorder#go on to live happy fulfilling beautiful magical lives
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Tagged by @mithrandirl to show some before and afters on coloring and sharpening. Thank you for tagging me <3 I love posting these things, they actually show how much work you do to create something, it's not just cut out a scene from a show and it suddenly becomes a perfect gif, you actually have to do so much to make it look nice. Lately I experiment a lot with sharpening, and I realized I do not have specific settings for it now, I just go and use whatever I think suits my gif atm. Same goes for colorings, I prefer to create a coloring from a scratch for each gif, that way you don't have to fix whatever went wrong when you just used psd on a different scene :D
Tagging @thyla , @leqnardmccoy , @dearemma , @villainelle and whoever wants to do it, it's fine if you don't, have fun <3
#on some gifs it is not just sharpening and coloring#there are filters and video enhancement used#and I think you can say which gifs are those#wish we had early seasons of sg1 in good quality :')#mine*#sd*#tag game#photoshop#doctor who#star trek#once upon a time#stargate sg1#hm realized i have not used first gif in any sets yet#have to make a scronchy gifsets i guess
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I need to shoutout the Chance player who shot his flintlock at me (Telamon) because I walked up behind him and scared him apparently
#roblox forsaken#forsaken roblox#homicidalporkchops#c00lkidd#shedletsky#telamon#builderman#yes...finally... a dedicated post i can put stuff from the art dump in...#which means i am reuploading art........... damn#see i can tag forsaken all i want but i wont lie those last few builderman drawings are for my interpretation on him#of which i will hide in the tags where noone will find them#he's a dad. to me. in my heart. this man is phoning his buddies at 1am to tell them about the sick building idea he had.#his garage? a disaster. this man is like every artist manifesting new ideas#except unlike us he can find the willpower to put them to paper#hes a mandisaster#he would NOT say fuck#hes married to his work your honor#hes so friendly and open and has smile lines#no one on record has seen him frown. ever#glass half full? Wrong. Glass IS full.#this mans enthusiasm is infectious#on another note i like to think telamon functions like an alter ego. he's the “”serious“” mode:tm:#like you thought normal shedletsky was kind of a cocky bastard. WRONG#the smile is gone but his skill has gone nowhere#waaahh im yappingg im yappingg IM STOPPING NOW
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How are you feeling about S17? I'm getting reaaal worried that it's going to be terrible. No Glenn in the writers room? A crossover episode?? Rob's gradual transformation into pondslime??? Help
Pondslime 😭Lmfao
I'm feeling more than fine about 17, really truly. I don't think anyone should be worried at all.
I think sometimes my interactions with Glenn come off a little more serious or abrasive than they really happened in real life (because we have to shout due to how loud it is in the bars), and my immediate transcription is just to get people *information*, which really doesn't convey tone.
For example, reporting that Glenn said "you don't want to know" in response to me asking for any teasers (as to plots this season) was met with a lot of "oh so this season is gonna suck" on Twitter, and that could not be further than the truth (sorry to the people I split-react blocked for saying that lol). In hindsight I get the reaction, because written out it's a response that can be easily misinterpreted and reads as potentially concerning, but know that when Glenn said "you don't want to know" he looked like this:
And when I was genuinely just asking for script information (regarding writers of individual scripts after he mentioned they had broken already) and mentioned Nina (Inflates) and Ross (DTAMHD), he gushed about both of them and then said, transcribed word for word, "It's been a good room, I'll say this it's been a great room. It's been an all-star room, it's been...like, breaking the stories this year has been really fun. [Me: Yeah?] Yeah. [That's great, that is great to hear.] It's been really fun."
So the idea of "no Glenn in the writers room" is really much more akin to Season 16 than 13/14. He was there to break stories (meaning he was in the room when they were brainstorming plot ideas and when they settled on which plots would be turned into scripts) but Rob and Charlie are taking the brunt of writing their (RCG's) scripts because of Sirens. This is the same thing that happened with The Gang Goes Bowling. Glenn's name is on the script, but Rob and Charlie wrote the majority of it while Glenn was shooting Blackberry. (I remember originally being convinced it was a mistake Glenn was listed as a writer for Bowling, lmfao). And Glenn is definitely still contributing, will be on revisions for the non-RCG scripts, and will classically change or improv whatever he thinks is best for Dennis when he's on set (see: the Risk E. Rats script).
Also, I know the crossover is concerning to a lot of people just given the nature of it, but as of what we know right now it's only on Abbott, so it's really just as if this season's The Gang Cracks the Liberty Bell or The Janitor Always Mops Twice took place on a different show instead of ours...
I promise promise promise Glenn was clearly holding his tongue for good things coming up, and Friday night very much restored my confidence that Season 17 will be good. (But..if you don't think Glenn has good contributions to Sunny or understands the agenda, then sorry this response probably sucks lmfao)
#i did the biggest fist pump the moment glenn's eyes were off us it was good#and i hate to say it but trust glenn knows who i am. he's talking to some gay kid way obsessed with the meta of his show#not a random dudebro whos hoping dennis is revealled as a serial killer this season#my conversations with glenn exist in the context of all that is and which came before...#additional thoughts i think a lot of people misinterpret what the major issue was with glenn not being in the writers room for 13 and 14#its not that he wasnt on scripts it's that he wasn't there from the beginning#blueskying and breaking the stories is so much more important to the season than anything in the scripts#they can always fix characterisation later. to the point of doing it on set#but if there's not enough good ideas and the stories suck for a characters motivation or the plots in general are just bleh#you can't even begin to write a good script#(and they really do need glenn for those things to come together. especially as a tie breaker or a veto)#whereas they like giving scripts to other writers (if not prefer it)!#like charlie said on directing: they get credit on everything for sunny so it's great to give someone else the opportunity#lucky 17#ask#glenn howerton
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All Inclusive Transbian Flag! (+ stripe meanings & higher contrast version) I don't normally post flags, but I'm proud of this one PARTICULARLY so :3 here you all go! This is the all-inclusive transbian flag, for when you're trans in ANY way, shape or form and are a lesbian! Anyone can use this except if you fall under my DNI or you're not a transbian (unless you're making a character who IS one) ( this flag has also been dubbed the sunset flag & the hyacinth flag (courtesy of my friend Angel @fawningdolls ! )
#pride flag#coining post#<- ? maybe? unsure#lesbian#lesbian pride#transgender#trans pride#transbian#queer#idk... how else 2 tag this...#anyways there's another transbian flag i lov that's purple and pink (it's literally in my icon)#but i felt like it was too .. binary?#like it excluded those who fell outside of femininity and what most ppl think of when they hear “trans lesbian”#which is a trans girl or transfem who's a lesbian#and that is NOT to invalidate them. i love my trans sisters and i stand with them (and i am transfemmasc/a boygirl!)#but often times masc lesbians and transmascs and butches and gnc and nb people and intersex people are excluded from lesbian solidarity#anyone who isnt feminine and likes girls is questioned and invalidated and told theyre just straight or bi and confused#and it's insulting!#as a butch i wanted 2 make a flag that represents the whole community and isnt just representative of femininity!!#btw this isnt to say the purple + pink transbian flag is bad . you CAN use that flag (i use it!!!) and it wasnt made by a bad person#i just wanted to make one that upheld MY personal beliefs and thoughts on what it means 2 be a transbian#ultimately use whatever flag you feel is best for you!
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/1d06b3e0a90d422b64fb014cea4b69c0/d733145ca59bfa8e-d7/s540x810/da0e92113cad4d7d419ab356c8dcaab314d2caff.jpg)
~INTRO TIME~
i go by Synth online. i probably count as a “tumblr old” (been here since 2011, and i’m even older than the source material my f/o comes from). i’m one of these 🏳️🌈. i do a lot of arts n crafts, and have commissions open. i’m bad at writing about me.
this is my main selfship sideblog- my main blog and the one i'll follow you from is @leadendeath, mostly furry-oriented but personal too, and if you want more general spunch.b0p-related goodness, i’m over at @1percentevil. if you already know me from those places, you are absolutely fine to follow/interact/whatever. i’m only joking when i call myself cringe or embarrassing :))) i’m unnecessarily self-conscious about every action i’ve ever done ever and i gotta get over it somehow.
This isn’t a faq, more like a “things you might be wondering about”:
“What does your url mean?” -the species plankton are called copepods. yay for having a pre-existing interest in marine bio. the 5000 doesn’t mean anything, i just thought it looks cool. and vaguely technological.
“Plankton is already married…” -anyone who loves Plankton, i also love by extension. That includes Karen! luckily i like computers and robots too very much :)
“So are you okay with sharing him?” -See above. Yes! He needs all the love.
“Anniversary?” -23/7/23. i already knew him from years back, but really reconnected with him when i heard a certain song… it was love at first listen. i’ve had few and far between f/os in the past, and every time it was the same “fall for them hard and fast” situation.
“F/O list?” -just the one guy is all i need. :)
Now here’s where i’ll infodump about my s/i…… eventually lol. When I get round to getting a few sketches I’ve done out of “WIP purgatory”, I’ll post about it under the #🦈 tag. I’m a shark, his best(/only…) customer, then shoulder to cry on, then we progress to more… lil dweeb latches on to the first guy who truly doesn’t consider him a loser. i could be talking about either of them there…
❗i now have a toyhouse page for it! backstory and more here❗
blinkie cred
One little thing which i've started putting on all my "about" pages: i've never stated what i would like people to tag for in all my time on tumblr, but i'm making a change for that now. Please tag #cats and #scars for me, i would appreciate it immensely. i'll tag for anything you'd like too! <3
#i heard the first five tags#are the ones that show up in peoples’ tracked tags#so uhh don’t mind me while i#how you say. make five tags.#so that i can continue to hide a little.#*looks around* …is that it? are they gone?? OKAY GREAT >⨀D#i’m joking#s/i is#🦈#tag for the two of us is#🦈💚𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘶𝘱 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯💚🦈#tag for us three is#🦈💚🖥#i remember to tag unsafe for work a lot but i'm not great at tagging sfw!#regardless i do try to tag sfw in case you want to browse only those type of posts#some things i'm Into which apply to the ship are:#robo#and#gt#if you know what they mean- great! if you don't then don't worry about it :^)#i reply to nice tags by reblogging from prev and replying in the tags...#replies#is where to find those#i won't be brave enough to post my art here; but it'll be under something basic like#my art#ok i think that's about it!
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hell day today and i'm only two hours into my EIGHT HOUR SHIFT
#9 to 5 by dolly parton starts playing in the background..#literally had to open up shop alone 2day and also was entirely alone for the first 45 min. of my shift so that was already a negative start#to the day + i heard that i can't have my break later than two thirty which is very bad for me bc 1) there'll be a lot of ppl all around me#when i'm eating which i already dislike and 2) like 85% of ppl taking their break around that time are VERY noisy eaters so even worse and#then 3) it'll be really loud in the room as well bc everyone's talking loudly and eating and the cutlery's clanging against plates and such#and also some ppl have actual full-blown arguments with each other in the break room bc half the ppl here hate each other's guts so more#negatives to the day and then on top of that we've had sooooo many annoying customers already today who r just. intent on making u stressed#out and upset and literally will tell u to your face to 'do your job better' like bro...i can easily tell you haven't worked in retail....#also someone hung their clothes on the rack outside the fitting rooms which is where u hang ur clothes when you're DONE fitting them & don'#want them bc they don't fit or don't sit right or u just don't rlly like them after all so if clothes are hanging there we the ppl working#there WILL take them and hang them back in their original places what did u expect to happen?? anyway someone hung the clothes they had#tried on already and did want there and i reached out to take them bc like. that's what we do here..we hang the clothes on the 'discard#rack' back in the store bc else the rack gets stuffed and the woman literally grabbed my arm and said 'those are mine what do u think you'r#doing' LIKE?????? GIRL THE RACK'S THERE FOR A REASONNNN ofc i'm going to assume u don't want them anymore if they're hanging there that's#why it's called the DISCARD rack....also how am i to know those specific clothes are yours HONESTLYYYYYY STFU AND GET OFF ME#ALSO some dude was like (to his child but like. looking at me while he said it.) 'this guy needs a haircut doesn't he' bc my hair is kinda#long and apparently i passed today. LIKE 1st of all kind of a rude thing to say to a stranger innit 2nd of all setting a great example to#your child there just casually commenting on other ppl's looks like that👍 3rd of all jokes on you you wouldn't consider me a guy if#you Knew most likely. thanks for that little zing of glee much obliged <3 but also man just piss off will you. 4th of all my hair isn't eve#that long....like the ends of it are just shy of my shoulders wdym LONG if u knew the long-haired guys i know you'd faint.#anyway. great start of the day. i still have six more hours to go 🥴#ALSO no surprise this always happens but my legs already hurt SOOOOOOOO BADDDDDD :(((((((((((#r.txt
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The way you characterise Peppino and Bruno is literally one of my favourites in the fandom. It's a perfect blend, that doesn't flanderise either character, nor treats them too seriously to keep all the fun out. Epic stuff!
yessss thank u.....
those lil freaks truly mean the world to me i could go on for ages abt how fascinating their dynamic is but that's for another time and another post so i shall refrain For Now...
realtalk though it's been so gratifying seeing how many ppl like my pizza comics because this game and these characters really do just strike the perfect vibe w/ me for that, being LARGELY absurd cartoon shenanigans but still having such a compellingly consistent emotional grounding. fairly mundane scenes of really wild characters is just kind of What I Do--what i most enjoy doing and what i like to think i'm good at-- so it's cool to see i'm either right about that and/or that it has an audience, yknow....wuaaah
#obligatory shill 'if you like my character writing you should check out my oc comic stuff' since that's more of the same vibe#or at least i WOULD say that if there was any benefit to following it right now. which there is not.#bc i have done basically nothing with my oc's since becoming pizzabrained. and i will continue to do nothing as long as this lasts#which is gonna be god knows how long. i still have many more things i want to make here#only two more like... Big Character-Important ones but many small goofy ones apart from those#as an aside note i do get what you mean here but it's kind of funny to think about fp's character getting 'flanderized' in any way#because the canon for him is so fucking vague there's like a dozen different angles you can approach him from gfjdfjsdgh#bweeeaaahh
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#but also it turned out#agatha and rio DID have a cottage together#something must have driven agatha from the cottage#to have her running#and not having a home with nicky#which could have helped his health more
yeah because i think because the tragedy is also that she loves death. nicky isnt doomed in some magical way, made of death so unable to live. or maybe also that, who knows, but i think nicky is doomed first and foremost bc agatha loves death.
i think she must have been on the run because she made it that way. bc she antagonised people into coming after her. bc she killed a coven or a dozen. bc she killed magically or mundanely. agatha isnt trying to build a healthy life, for her or him. agatha isnt trying to be Better in any way you want to define that. she wont let herself grow beyond the trauma that has defined her up to that point. and after nickys death she wont let herself grow beyond that trauma either. shes knowingly destructive and she isnt trying to change that.
if agatha is desolate and without community it's because she has made it that way. directly or indirectly, on purpose or bc she was forced, those things kinda blur together. at the end of the day she let it be that way. nicky lived and died because agatha loves death.
She is my scar.
#or thats one interpretation of what 'the truth is too awful' can mean#but you know ymmv. to me a lot of this is about self-destruction#i mean the addiction metaphor is like. there#but even more than that. she loves death. thats what the show makes explicit. concrete.#and it's not a healthy relationship theyre clear about that too#thats why nicky dies. thats why she blames herself. bc she chose stagnation. stuckness in trauma. over him#she made the life that nicky lived. in every way. which maybe every parent does for their kids in a way idk#but if she didnt have a midwife which might have helped him that was her choice#and if she didnt have a community that could offer him steady shelter and food and hygiene (which death cant) that was her choice too#and like maybe it's ALSO the magical stuff. maybe he also needed the power of those witches to live or wahtever#i wouldnt disregard the possibility and i dont think it takes away from the metaphor necessarily#but to me the metaphor is what holds the story together.#and if rio can only show up when theres a death. then the regular killing sprees only add layers to that interpretation i think#but i dont know if they regularly saw rio in those yeras#and why that means rio must be in the rich clothes i dont know i have nothing to say abt that part ghfkjghjkh
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The original 'virgin vs chad' meme
I feel like everyone is sick of those stupid soyjack vs Chad "my opinion is good and based and correct, your opinion bad and wrong and stinky" memes by this point, as they're some of the lowest forms of current internet 'humor.' But precisely because those memes are so bad and also everywhere, I feel it's worth giving some credit to the fact that the original "The Virgin Walk / The Chad Stride" was actually a brilliant meme.
"The Virgin Walk" image showed up first, and it was standard 4chan stuff - which is to say, highly negative. Just a whole bunch of random small traits that people can have, bundled together in an accusatory way to try and make people insecure about them having "virgin" posture, by the kind of people who genuinely worries about being an "alpha male" (Or possibly pointing out their own flaws as a form of self-hatred, flip a coin when it comes to 4chan)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/b897237ce07e07dc6ac46cd9aee985b4/869b7b29b816e798-1e/s540x810/19a4d0a3c9218bc55773c1d63ca003ea339eff1c.jpg)
And then, on another thread, someone made the Chad Stride edit to go along with it.
It's a great piece of satire by how simple it is. Just by taking the traits listed in the original image, then inverting and exaggerating them, the result is an absurd caricature of a man who does not (and should not) exist. Through exaggeration, it demonstrates how the people who constantly worry about seeming 'Chad-like' are chasing after behaviour that is utterly unhinged and disconnected from reality.
I think this gif demonstrates it perfectly by putting it in motion:
Virgin is a normal, if insecure dude. Chad is an absolute fucking maniac. (Not to mention all the references to violence in the image)
So, while it did degrade into those awful soyjak memes we all know and hate because that is the nature of the internet, I feel like it's worth remembering that in the original image that spawned this entire trend, you're supposed to laugh at Chad. You shouldn't want to be Chad, because he's the menace to society [ credit to the gif's creator: https://x.com/art_miguelito/status/1107313740033212417 ; thanks to @softwaring for linking it ]
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# PUSSY TALK !! (vi x reader)
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/42bc3fe25915322ae4e380527a3c80b2/f1c3578d82996bd1-ef/s540x810/52610a108c2c07628e3acc95a81a3d60ff9087a7.jpg)
$YNOPSIS. you’ve been feelin’ a little insecure about yourself lately. good thing you have a girlfriend who’s head over heels for you, no matter what! // wc. 2.4k
warnings. insecure!reader, talk of body image + weight, face sitting, spanking (ass + clit), praise, dirty talk, stripping, oral sex, size kink (?), teasing, fingering, begging, squirting, overstimulation, mirrors, awkward aftercare, spooning, pet names
NSFW below the cut. minors, stay away. enjoy your read!
Dresses aren’t your favourite piece of clothing. They never have been and they never will be, and even as you stare at yourself in the floor length mirror of your bedroom, you absolutely hate how this dress looks on you.
When you asked for something flared that would hide your curves, you didn’t expect your tailor to make you look like an overstuffed cream puff. The flared sleeves hang off of your arms like misplaced scraps of fabric, and the material pools at your feet, surrounding you in an unceremonious circle. You look frumpy, you feel frumpy, and nothing in the world could have convinced you that this is the dress you were going to wear to the annual Councillor’s Gala.
“What the fuck…” You turn around to inspect the back, and it’s even worse than you thought. It seems as if the tailor has attempted a daring backless design, but to you, it just looks like a gaping hole, the fabric tight and loose in all the wrong places before messily accumulating just above the apple of your ass. It looks horrible, and if you weren’t insecure enough, this dress makes you feel like a laughing stock.
And that’s when the dreaded words come out of your mouth. “I seriously need to lose weight.”
Someone doesn’t like that, because out of nowhere, you feel a strong pair of arms wrap around your waist and a sharp chin on your shoulder. “And why’s that? I think it looks perfect.”
Vi loves seeing you in dresses. She thinks they make you look so graceful, no matter what shape you choose. It solidifies the fact that you are her perfect princess, and she will never understand why you hate them when they make you look so pretty.
She also doesn’t understand this whole weight thing you have going on. If anything, one of the things that first had her on her knees for you was your body, and like now, she always feels a need to be touching it, whether it be stroking your thighs or kissing your collarbone or, like now, wrapping her arms around your perfect waist and pulling you into her chest.
“‘M not perfect though, Vi,” you grumble, hands running along the sides of your chest and resting over where her hands cradle your tummy. “I look like a creampuff.”
“Creampuffs are sweet. I like creampuffs,” she says, her eyes making contact with yours in the mirror as she noses your neck. “I like you.”
You roll your eyes and whine. “I know you like me, Vi. But that’s not gonna change the fact that I hate this dress.”
“Take it off then.” She says it like it’s the simplest thing in the world, like you’re not going to be stuck in it for three whole hours, playing the part of a member of high society whilst trying your hardest to ignore the obvious stares at the atrocity which is your outfit. You want to tell Vi that it seriously isn’t as easy as that, but you’re distracted by her hands slipping into the open back of your dress.
“I can help you,” she whispers in your ear, and you can feel the cold metal of her nose piercing against your heated skin. “Take it off, I mean. Relax.”
“Vi…”
“Can we try something?” She begins to kiss your neck slowly, and you whimper when you feel the rough scar on her lip brush against your heated flesh. “I know you’ve been feeling some way about your body lately, and to be honest, I have no idea why because your body is already so fucking perfect…” Her hands slide up the insides of your dress, and you lift your shoulders automatically as she slips those god awful sleeves off of your shoulders. “There’s something I want you to do for me.”
After all this time, she hasn’t broken eye contact once, and you notice her eyes go dark when she shoves the front of your dress down, only to find your perky nipples staring right back at her. “What is it?”
“Sit on my face,” she states simply, hands coming round to rub at your tits. “I want all of it, baby. Your whole body. I want you to fuckin’ suffocate me.”
You probably will. You stare at your girlfriend in the mirror incredulously, because there’s no way in the universe that you’re going to sit on her face. Not in a million years, and certainly not today. “No.”
“Give me one good reason why not.” She has a point, because it’s getting increasingly hard to refute her when her hands are making their way underneath the front material of your dress, letting it drop to the floor and revealing your regulation panties. “Go on, give me one good reason why you shouldn’t sit on my face.” Before you can open your mouth to protest, Vi smiles and bites your shoulder. “And your weight is not a valid answer.”
You raise your eyebrows. “Violet.”
“Yes, baby?” She acts like nothing is wrong, like asking you to crush her skull in between your legs a couple hours before the most important event of the year is a completely normal request. And she continues to act this way, even when she slips her hand into your panties, fingers eagerly in search of your clit. “So what I’m hearing is you don’t want to sit on my face, and you don’t want me to make you feel so good that you forget all about this stupid dress and that stupid gala?”
Your back arches into her chest when she starts rubbing your clit in small circles, lips widening into a smile as she watches you unravel against her. “That’s not what I said.”
“So why are you acting like you don’t want it?” She’s taunting you now, fingers halting all movement on your clit and sliding down lower, tips starting to tease your quivering hole. “Because I know you want it, baby. She’s telling me you want it.”
You hate how Vi can read you like a book. You do want this, but you’re worried, and she makes sure to eliminate of all of that worry by slipping her fingers into your cunt, mouth dropping open in wonder when you begin to crumple against her.
“Vi, please.”
“No.” Stubborn. “You’re not cumming unless you’re where you're supposed to be, princess. My game, my rules, and no amount of that pretty begging is gonna change that.”
You bite your lip as you feel her palm grind against your clit, fingers speeding up and continually assaulting your sweet spot. It’s so hard not to beg her to let you cum, especially with the way she’s holding eye contact with you so intensely.
“Say the words, and that orgasm’s yours,” she mumbles, smile ever present as her fingers alternate speeds. “Come on baby, I know you can.”
You can, you will, and you do. Your pleas to cum are replaced with nonsensical begging and whimpering, your hands futilely clawing at her biceps as you try to rip her fingers away from your weeping hole. “I’ll do it, I’ll do it, just let me cum, Vi, please-”
All of a sudden, the pressure building up inside of you dissipates, and you notice Vi licking her fingers clean as she backs towards the bed. “That’s what I like to hear,” she laughs, sitting down on the bed in a way that has you weak in the knees. “Come take a seat, princess.”
Embarrassingly enough, that’s all it takes to have you stepping out of the pool of fabric on the floor and crawling onto the bed towards her, legs planted on either side of her hips as you bend over and catch her lips in a heated kiss. It’s loud and it’s messy, her hands sliding up your thighs and onto your covered ass as you grind down onto her knee, tongue intertwining with hers in a clash of passion and need.
“Good fucking girl,” she groans, squeezing the flesh of your ass before slapping it hard, drawing a quiet gasp from your lips. “Come on, baby, c’mere, come sit.”
Your hands splay the surface of her chest as you push her back onto the bed lightly, chest heaving gently with every heated breath you take. Vi looks up at you like you’re the most beautiful girl in the world, because to her, you are, and she wouldn’t want to be underneath anyone else.
“There she is,” she whispers as you situate yourself comfortably on her chest. “My pretty girl, huh?”
“I’m nervous,” you mumble, hips beginning to move slowly as you plant your hands on either side of her head. “I… don’t wanna hurt you.”
“Trust me, you won’t.” She captures your hips in her strong hands and pulls you further up her body, letting you hover just above her collarbone. “I’ve lifted this perfect body with my own two hands before. What makes you think a little face sitting will hurt me?”
In a way, she’s right. Vi is strong, more so than most people. If it got too much, she would be able to move you effortlessly, and-
You’re pulled out of your train of thought by the feeling of Vi’s nose nestling in between your legs, rubbing up against your pulsing clit under your panties. “Vi…”
“You’re thinkin’ too much, baby,” she groans, voice muffled in between your thighs. “Just do it.” This time, she doesn’t leave you any time to think, because she’s now mouthing at your cunt through your panties, strong arms wrapping around your thighs and pulling you ever closer. You gasp in surprise, one hand coming up to grip onto the headboard as you fight not to lose balance.
Another thing about Vi: she’s impatient. And when you hesitate to begin moving your hips, she does it for you, fingers pulling the seat of your underwear to one side and arms pushing you down hard.
“She’s so wet, baby, I don’t know how you can say you don’t want this.” Her tongue darts out to lick your throbbing clit and you whine, hips stuttering as you stare hazily at the mess of pink hair in between your legs. Vi is staring up at you with lust swirling in her eyes, and you can feel her smile on your cunt as her tongue slides downwards to your entrance. “I mean, she is practically begging me to eat her out. Is that what you want?”
Before you can answer her, you’re caught off guard by her hand slapping at your clit playfully, sending pleasured shockwaves throughout your system. “ ‘M not talking to you anymore, silly,” she laughs, thumbs rubbing at the area she just assaulted. “I’m talking to her, since my girl doesn’t seem to know what she wants anymore.”
“Stop it,” you grumble, but Vi pays no notice, resuming her languid licks on your pussy. Your protests are quickly turned into prolonged whines and whimpers of her name, the pressure once taken from you beginning to build in your core with each shallow thrust of her tongue into your hole.
“Not until she’s satisfied, angel.” And she means it, because the grip she has on your thighs is nothing next to lethal, and you feel yourself begin to shake as the pressure builds more and more. “And she’s getting close, don’t you think?”
She is. Your head begins to swim and you tangle your fingers in Vi’s hair in an attempt to stabilise yourself but it proves futile, mouth dropping open as you beg her to let you finish. “Vi, please, please, I’m sorry, I-”
“Nothin’ to apologise for, angel, you’re doing a great job.” You have no idea how she still manages to speak when she’s being all but crushed in the trap that is your quivering thighs, but her voice drives you ever closer, your hips grinding down onto her happily awaiting tongue as you chase your orgasm desperately. You want it- no, you need it, and when she begins to massage your ass sensually, you think you might just squirt.
“Vi...”
“Yeah, baby? Is she telling you something?” She loves playing this game, delaying your orgasm as long as possible whilst making it impossible to hold yourself back. It feels like her hands are everywhere because suddenly her thumb is massaging your clit, and you’re begging her like there’s no tomorrow.
She seems satisfied by your begging, because she takes one arm off of your thigh to use her fingers to fuck your needy cunt. “Cum for me baby, c,mon. Give it to me.”
And give it to her, do you, and in gracious abundance at that. Your juices drench her face unceremoniously as you twitch above her, spine shaking as you hold on to her hair for dear life. You’re all but riding her tongue, and she’s moaning profusely into your cunt, the vibrations only heightening your sensitivity. And try as you might, you can’t pull her away, her mouth a suction as she pushes you unforgivingly into overstimulation.
When you’re all but ready to surrender your stability to her relentless assault in between your legs, you feel a strong pair of hands lifting you off of her mouth gently, and light kisses being littered all over the expanse of your thighs. Vi’s mouth travels along your skin lazily, her powdery blue eyes looking up at your shaky form with nothing but love etched into her irises. You barely begin to register the sweet praises she gives you, instead basking in the afterglow of your intense climax mixed with the feeling of her hands stroking your back.
Moments later and you’re laying down on the bed next to her, curled in a foetal position as you fight the army of sleep threatening to overthrow you. “Are you tired?”
“Mhm.”
“Why don’t you… skip the gala? Stay here with me, I’ll cook, and…”
You think the difference between the Vi laying next to you now and the Vi who made you climax to the brink of passing out is a cute one. She’s never been too good with aftercare, instead trying to make awkward conversation in an attempt to divert from the fact that she just rocked your world in more ways than one. “We can stay home. I’ll tell the organisers I wasn’t feeling too well.” That, and the fact that god awful dress made you want to bust a nerve.
Vi smiles at you gently, and you wish you could stay like this with her forever. “Sounds good. I’m looking forward to it.”
© this work belongs to choslut. do not copy, translate, repost or feed my work into any regenerative ai system.
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ʚɞ warnings: fem!reader, reader plays volleyball, masturbation, oral (f receiving), obsessive behaviour, boobjob, penetration (p in v), 18+ minors dni.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who decides you're going to be his the very first time he sees you playing volleyball on the beach with your teammates wearing those pitiful scraps of material that can hardly be classified as a bikini.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes sure to pick up any and every extra shift he can just so he can figure out exactly what times you come down to the shore to practise.
pervy lifeguard!gojo whose new favourite pastime is just to sit in his lookout post, barely paying attention to the water to keep an eye on anybody who may be in potential danger — no, lately, his gaze always seems to be fixed squarely upon you.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but push his sunglasses up to rest in his hair so he can get a clearer view of you as you move around the sand, the way your scantily-clad body moves whenever you jump to hit the ball over the net just hypnotizing the poor man.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to disregard his duties completely to duck into a nearby beach hut when it becomes too much to just watch you, furiously fisting his leaking cock to the delicious mental image of your ass bouncing as you played.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who emerges from the hut looking like an utter mess, snowy locks dishevelled and swimming trunks hanging low on his hips as he stumbles back over to his lookout post. his strange behavior even grants him a few curious look from nearby beachgoers, but he couldn't care less.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who finds his hands clenching into tight fists by his sides when he observes one of the boys from the opposing volleyball team shaking your hand after a match. it's just a sign of mutual respect between players — he knows that.
but that doesn't mean it irritates him any less.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who finally gathers the confidence to actually approach you later that afternoon while you're packing up your things, idly scratching the back of his undercut while he tries to think of a normal way to start a conversation.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who doesn't have to speak at all in the end, because you say the first words for him, greeting him with that pretty little smile of yours that he's only been able to see from afar up until now and outstretching a hand for him to shake.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't help but let a pleased grin spread across his lips while he returns the gesture, feeling a deep sense of satisfaction rising in his chest that his own touch on your palm has erased that previous guy's.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who falls even harder for you (if that's possible) during the few minutes he talks with you. it's nothing more than a friendly interaction between two regular beachgoers, but to him, it's one of many more to come.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels like he could do an embarrassing victory dance on the sand right then and there when you casually mention an upcoming volleyball competition that you'll be playing in. so you want him to be there, huh?
he nonchalantly responds that he might just be able pop by and watch some of it during his break — as if he isn't already planning on completely abandoning his post in favour of spectating the entire match instead.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who is so full of excitement during the week leading up to the tournament that he just can't keep quiet about it for even a single second. his poor bestfriend lifeguard!geto is beginning to feel like he's the one with the giant, pathetic crush on you at this point.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who would most likely be fired if his boss was to see him right now, sprawled across a bench and watching you compete at volleyball instead of looking out for drowning children in the waves.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who is sporting a not-so-subtle tent in his swimming trunks as he sits there, which he tries in vain to hide by crossing his legs over his lap. i mean, can you really blame him? just look at the way those doughy tits of yours jiggle in that downright sinful bikini top!
pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to clench his jaw to stop from snapping various profanities at the nearby beachgoers who have stopped in their tracks just to witness the match — he's not oblivious, he can see them checking you out just as he is.
but it's different when he does it. why? because you're going to be his soon enough. don't they understand that?
pervy lifeguard!gojo who isn't surprised in the slightest when your team easily triumphs over the other. after all, the opposing team doesn't have you on it. and although he knows little to nothing about volleyball, he can easily declare that you must be the best at it.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who would ideally like to run up to you and gush about how well you performed, but due to the very visible... problem in his trunks, ends up darting into the nearest beach hut for the second time this month to relieve himself because of you.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who is halfway through sloppily jerking his hips up into his closed fist when sunlight suddenly starts to flit through the gap in the door — shit, he was so worked up he forgot to even close it.
rookie mistake, satoru.
pervy lifeguard!gojo whose eyes widen to the size of saucers when he realizes it's you who just walked in through the doorway, shutting it gently behind you. he's about to start furiously apologizing for what you stumbled in on when he notices you don't seem nearly as shocked as you probably should be.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who can only watch in stunned silence as you slowly saunter closer to him, your hands hidden behind your back as they easily untie the strings of your bikini top before letting it fall to the floor.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who releases what can only be described as a pornographic moan at the sight of your freed breasts, his neglected cock twitching beneath his hand as he ogles you without shame. if he had any self-awareness left, he might've been embarrassed of the small trickle of drool oozing from his slackened mouth.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who feels his cheeks flush a shade of red brighter than the leaking tip of his bobbing cock when you purr to him... "do you really think i haven't noticed you checking me out for these past few weeks, mr lifeguard?"
pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow finds himself living out a scenario lewder than the wildest of wet dreams he's had about you, his jittery hips thrusting erratically between your tits as you keep them pressed together for him with your hands.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who reaches what is undoubtably the fastest orgasm of his life, his sunglasses toppling from his head as it falls back in bliss, messy white locks stuck to his forehead with sweat as he releases a series of broken groans and whimpers.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who immediately joins you on your knees once he's come down from his euphoric high, long pink tongue lolling out to lap up every drop of sticky cum he split on your pretty tits, sucking and nipping at every inch of supple skin within reach.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who just can't stop yapping, going on and on about how perfect you are, how you've been on his mind for what feels like forever, how sexy you look when you're hitting around that volleyball.
it seems the only way to actually shut pervy lifeguard!gojo up is to shove his beautiful face between your legs, the only sounds leaving him now being mewls of enjoyment as he mouths at your saccharine taste through your bikini bottoms.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who is already too lost in you to properly remove the material keeping him from your pussy, instead lazily yanking it to the side with a single finger so he can dive nose-deep into your sweet cunt like he's been dreaming about doing for weeks.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who is just so messy with it, practically making out with your dripping hole as he rapidly delves his tongue in and out, moaning so shamelessly you'd think he was the one getting eaten out and not you.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who makes you cum using only his sloppy mouth so many times neither of you even know just how long you've been cooped up in this beach hut where there's a real possibility that someone could walk in at any given moment.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who can't hold himself back from fucking you anymore — he's waited long enough already, after all. so he's effortlessly manhandling you onto your back as he pushes in, eyes locked onto the sight of your tits still glistening with his saliva and cum from earlier.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who buries his face between the valley of your breasts as he ruts into you like a rabid animal, word after word of slurred praise failing from his lips as he looks up you with those wide, lovestruck cerulean eyes.
god, he's so fucking obsessed with you. getting to finally feel you like this was just the last nail in the coffin.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who somehow cums even harder than his previous climax, the overwhelming sensation of the tight, spongy walls of your cunt pulling him back in over and over again just unravelling his hazy mind with ease.
pervy lifeguard!gojo who has to psychically stop himself from letting out a choked whisper of 'i love you' as he spills his milky seed right into your womb where his cockhead is lodged, seemingly having enough awareness left to know that it's much too soon for that.
instead, pervy lifeguard!gojo settles for fixing you with a dopy grin so wide that both rows of his glinting pearly whites are on full display, murmuring a cheeky... "what do you say we make this a routine after every competition, pretty baby?"
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© 2024 SUGOROO. please don't copy or translate any of my works without my explicit permission. all rights are reserved to me.
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hii, I’m not sure if you take request still but if so is there a possible way you can do a drew x singer!reader one shot take on how Sabrina “arrests” her fans before performing Juno for being too hot but the reader does it to Drew during her shows please 🫶🏼
arrested for being too hot — DREW STARKEY
authors note THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING THIS!! my request box is still open so feel free to send me any ideas regarding singer!reader or regular fic ideas you’d like me to write. this was so much writing too. thank for all the love on my last fic lovies <3
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summary "arresting" drew, your boyfriend, during your show before performing your song from your new album.
warning(s) none!
You are on tour for your new album in-front of thousands of fans almost every night. You worked hard on this album and it turned out wonderfully. If it weren’t for the amazing fans of yours, you don’t know where you’d be in your career— they are the reason you are doing this.
Half way into the show— going amazing. The crowd tonight isn't disappointing you. Everything you've hoped for on this tour. You've performed eighteen songs and about to go onto your nineteenth. Played musical spin the bottle not long ago which was really fun.
Before Juno, you begin with a small "skit" where you call someone out in the crowd, arresting them for being too hot. This became a thing after your first show of the tour and doing it ever since. Plus, fans absolutely love it. Interacting with your fans has always been something you did and create those bonds.
Drew, your boyfriend, is attending the show with Madelyn Cline, a mutual friend and cast-mate of Drew's. You told him earlier today you wanted to arrest him in the middle of the show to get the audience excited and it would be fun.
Drew was all for it, and he didn't want you to tell him what you were going to say—he prefers surprises.
Your pink, glittering, dazzling clothing was sparkling in the lights. You pressed your free hand to your brow as though you were looking around for a call. With security, you could see Drew and Madelyn making their way to the front.
You begin by adjusting your earpiece while moving around the stage in your long skirt. "You guys know that moment when you are in a room filled with such beautiful looking people that you start to feel overwhelmed?" When fans applaud, you smile.
"Oh, girls, I think I just seen my future husband in the front row! Oh my god, girls, come here, come here," you say anxiously into the microphone, beckoning them over and waving your free hand.
You turn to face Drew as the girls approach you, asking, "Do you see that gorgeous looking man over in the front row with his arms crossed in the tan shirt?" You speak into the microphone aloud, pointing to Drew in the crowd.
Your girls joyfully waved at Drew while placing their hands on your shoulder. As Drew blushes on the big screen, the crowd reflexively turns up the volume in the arena.
"What's your name handsome?" With your head cocked slightly to the right toward your shoulder, you inquire in jest.
"Drew!" You can hear him when he places his hands on the side of his lips. He gives you a childlike smile and a flushed face.
You say, "I'm sorry I couldn't get that?" as though you couldn't hear him. Leaning forward more, you place your free hand behind your ear.
He shakes his head and utters "Drew!" a little louder.
"Oh my Drew, I must say that you must be a magnet because you drew me in" brings a smile to your face. Your tone indicated that you were trying quite hard not to laugh, yet you kept your calm brilliantly.
Fans had their phones out, capturing the entire interaction. Nobody would have expected Drew to be the person arrested at your gigs since the tour began.
"Drew, you are under arrest for being too hot," you say aloud, smiling and pointing at him— fanning yourself, moving your hips side to side as the sound of sirens going off with blue and red lights behind.
You put your left elbow against your girls shoulder, "guys do you ever just see someone so good looking that you just don't know what to do and all your clothes fall off in that moment" your long skirt slips off smoothy.
"Like your brain just like malfunctions and like I just wanna handcuffed to you now like," one of your girls puts the pink fluffy handcuffs into your hand, you kneel down, "do you know what I mean? Will you take these from me?"
Drew is overwhelmed in this very moment— it's very obvious how much you are affecting him. Drew gives you a gimme me gesture with his fingers, ready to catch the hand cuffs.
He takes them in his hands, looks down, and feels the smooth texture of the fuzzy. He tilts his head to the side before slowly glancing up at you with a smirk—keep in mind that he's still on the big screen.
"We're gonna sing this one to you, Drew."
Juno's song intro starts playing. You wave goodbye to Drew and Madelyn as you return to the center of the stage. You could hear the two begin speaking to fans in the distance.
Drew and Madelyn met you in the dressing room following the show. After giving Madelyn a hug and thanking her for attending the event, you moved to approach Drew and put your arms around his neck while grinning.
"That was insane," Madelyn exclaimed, pulling you into a hug. "What about the full call-out and the handcuffs? Iconic! "You're the talk of the night; everyone is crazy about it."
You giggled as your face heated up. "It seemed right." "You should have seen his face!"
She laughs, "I got the whole thing on video, I'll send it to you later."
"I'm going to give you two some alone time, but you did such an amazing job tonight and looked so hot doing it," Madelyn adds, taking your hands in her and wiggling her brows.
"Thank you, babe. I love you always," you say, hugging her before she leaves you and Drew alone.
When you close the door, Drew comes behind you, placing his arms around your waist and kissing you on the cheek, making you laugh with the tenderness of his lips.
"I'm so proud of you baby, you did such an amazing job on stage and looked unbelievable in your outfits made me feel like the luckiest guy in the entire world." He expresses emotionally, which uplifts you.
"Coming from you, it warms my heart baby. Forever grateful to have you in my life," you smile softly, leaning against his chest, feeling that sense of warmth you always feel whenever you are with him.
"And I'm forever grateful for you" he quietly responds, kissing the top of your head.
"So what are we gonna do with those pink fuzzy handcuffs?"
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christ-max -mv1
summary: you invite your boyfriend max to spend christmas with you for the first time, however, your family doesn't quite believe you're dating a formula 1 world champion. wc: 5.8k
folkie radio: HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL OF YOUUUU! i hope you're having the best day ever with your loves ones. this fic ended up being longer than i intended but i hope you like it!
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
You're nestled into Max's side on his couch, wrapped in the soft throw blanket he keeps specifically for these quiet moments together. The afternoon light filters through the floor-to-ceiling windows of his Monaco apartment, casting a glow across the room. Your feet are tucked under you, and you can smell the lingering scent of the coffee you both made earlier.
The Netflix show you'd put on - some random documentary about deep-sea creatures - has become mere background noise. Max's fingers are threading through your hair in that gentle way that always makes you melt, occasionally stopping to massage your scalp. .
"I can't believe the season's actually over," you murmur, tracing lazy patterns on his arm. "Feels weird not having to plan around race weekends anymore."
Max chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest where your head rests. "Yeah, but now we have to plan around all the end-of-year events instead. Did you see how many galas and ceremonies are coming up?"
"At least those don't involve you flying halfway across the world," you tease, tilting your head to look up at him. His hair is slightly messy, free from its usual styling, and you resist the urge to reach up and run your fingers through it.
"True," he agrees, then glances at his phone on the coffee table. "Speaking of events, I can't believe it's already December. Christmas is going to be here before we know it. Guess time flies when you're busy winning championships."
Your heart skips a beat. This is the opening you've been waiting for. You've been thinking about this for weeks, planning how to bring it up. "Actually… I wanted to ask you something about Christmas," you start, sitting up slightly to face him better.
Max's blue eyes meet yours, curious. "What's on your mind?"
"Well…" you bite your lip, suddenly feeling nervous despite knowing there's no reason to be. "I was wondering if you'd want to spend Christmas with me and my family this year? I know we've kept things private, but I really want them to meet you, and-"
"Wait, really?" Max interrupts, his whole face lighting up with that boyish excitement that made you fall for him in the first place. "You want me to meet your family?"
You can't help but smile at his enthusiasm. "Of course I do. We've been together almost a year now, and they keep asking why I'm always smiling at my phone." You playfully poke his side. "Which is your fault, by the way."
He catches your hand, intertwining your fingers. "My fault? I'm just being my naturally charming self," he grins, then his expression turns slightly more serious. "But are you sure? I mean, won't they be surprised when you show up with, well…"
"With a four-time World Champion?" you finish for him, laughing. "Actually, my dad might pass out. He's been watching F1 since before I was born. He has no idea I've been dating his favorite driver."
Max's eyebrows shoot up. "I'm his favorite driver?"
"Don't let it go to your head," you warn playfully. "But yeah, he's got your merchandise and everything. It's actually kind of embarrassing how much he talks about you during race weekends."
Max throws his head back laughing, and you can't help but join in. "Oh God, this is going to be interesting," he says, wiping at his eyes. "What about the rest of your family?"
"Well, Mom will probably try to feed you until you burst - she's like that with everyone. And my little sister Ruby, she's seven and she's going to have so many questions. She's in that phase where she wants to know everything about everything."
"I can handle questions," Max says confidently, then hesitates. "What kind of questions are we talking about?"
You pretend to think about it. "Oh, you know, probably things like 'How fast have you ever driven?' 'Have you ever crashed?' 'Do you want to marry my sister?'"
Max nearly chokes on air at the last one, his cheeks turning slightly pink. "You're joking, right?"
"About Ruby? Nope, she has absolutely no filter," you laugh, then soften your voice. "But seriously, they're going to love you. Just be yourself - the you I know, not the racing driver everyone else sees."
He pulls you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'd love to spend Christmas with your family. I can't wait to meet them." He pauses, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Should I wear my race suit when I meet your dad?"
You swat his arm, laughing. "Don't you dare! He'll actually faint." You settle back against his chest, feeling warm and content. "Thank you for saying yes. It means a lot to me."
"Thank you for asking me," he murmurs into your hair. "I love you."
"I love you too," you respond, smiling as his arms tighten around you. The documentary continues playing, forgotten again as you both start planning for Christmas, trading ideas and jokes about how to break the news to your family.
You're sitting cross-legged on Max's bed while he's in the shower, your phone propped up against a pillow as you FaceTime your family. Your mom's face fills most of the screen, with your dad peering over her shoulder and little Ruby bouncing around trying to get a better view.
"Honey, we can barely see you. The lighting is terrible," your mom critiques, and you adjust your position slightly.
"Better?"
"Much better! Now, what's this important thing you wanted to tell us about Christmas?" Your mom asks, while Ruby shouts "Is it presents?" in the background.
You take a deep breath, trying to contain your smile. "Well, I wanted to let you know that I'm bringing someone with me this year… my boyfriend."
There's an immediate explosion of excitement. Ruby starts jumping up and down, your mom gasps dramatically, and your dad's eyebrows shoot up with interest.
"Finally!" your mom exclaims. "We've been wondering when you'd introduce him. You've been so secretive about this boyfriend of yours."
"What's his name?" Ruby pipes up, her face suddenly taking up half the screen as she pushes closer to the camera. "Is he nice? Does he like Disney movies?"
You laugh, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "Yes, Rubes, he's very nice. And his name is…" you pause, knowing what's coming. "Max. Max Verstappen."
There's a moment of silence before your dad bursts out laughing. "Good one, sweetheart. Now, what's his real name?"
"I'm serious, Dad. I'm dating Max Verstappen."
Your mom is trying to hold back her laughter now too. "Honey, isn't that the racing driver you and your father are always watching? The one your dad has all those caps and shirts of?"
"Yes, and I'm actually dating him," you insist, feeling your cheeks heat up.
Ruby's face scrunches up in confusion. "The fast car man? From TV?"
"The very same one, Rubes."
Your dad wipes tears from his eyes. "Come on now, what's next? Are you going to tell us you're best friends with Lewis Hamilton too?"
"Dad!" you groan, running a hand over your face. "I'm being serious! We've been dating for almost a year. I'm literally at his place right now!"
"In Monaco?" your dad asks skeptically. "Prove it."
You swing your phone around to show the familiar view of Monaco through the windows, but your dad just shakes his head. "Could be any apartment in Monaco."
"You're impossible!" you huff. "Fine, don't believe me. You'll see at Christmas."
Ruby presses her face closer to the screen again. "Will he bring his race car?"
"No, Rubes, he can't bring the race car," you say, softening your tone for your little sister. "But I promise you'll love him."
After a few more minutes of your family teasing you about your "imaginary Formula 1 driver boyfriend," you end the call with a mix of frustration and amusement. Just as you flop back onto the bed, you hear the bathroom door open and Max walks out, his hair still damp from the shower.
"How'd it go?" he asks, noticing your expression.
You let out a laugh. "They think I'm making you up. They literally don't believe I'm dating you."
Max raises his eyebrows, looking amused as he sits next to you on the bed. "Really?"
"Really. Dad laughed so hard he nearly cried. And Ruby, my little sister, just wants to know if you're bringing your race car for Christmas."
"Sorry to disappoint Ruby," he grins, then looks thoughtful. "You know, maybe we should've waited to tell them in person. The looks on their faces would've been priceless."
"Oh, don't worry," you sit up, wrapping your arms around his neck. "They'll still be priceless. Dad's going to lose it when he realizes all those times he was rambling about you during races, he was actually talking about his daughter's boyfriend."
Max laughs, pulling you closer. "What else should I know before meeting them?"
"Well, Ruby's seven and obsessed with Frozen. She'll definitely make you watch it and probably sing along too."
"I can handle that," he says confidently.
"And recite all the lines?"
"…Maybe not that."
"And act out the scenes with her?"
Max's eyes widen slightly. "What have I gotten myself into?"
You kiss his cheek. "Too late to back out now, Verstappen. You're stuck with us."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," he murmurs, pulling you in for a proper kiss. "Even if it means playing Olaf the snowman."
"Oh no, you'll definitely be playing Elsa. Ruby's very particular about casting."
The look of horror on his face makes you burst out laughing, and soon he's joining in too. As your laughter dies down, you can't help but think about how perfect this feels - being here with him, planning to spend Christmas with your family, even if they don't believe you yet. You can't wait to see their faces when you show up at their door with Max Verstappen himself.
"Hey," Max says softly, breaking into your thoughts. "What are you smiling about?"
"Just thinking about how Christmas is going to be interesting this year."
"Interesting is one way to put it," he grins. "Should I wear my race suit when we arrive?"
"Don't you dare! Dad will actually faint."
"That's kind of the point," he winks, and you grab a pillow to hit him with, both of you dissolving into laughter again.
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/3a88a073dd58c23719504b0f71740f15/ca94a097fb245d7e-9f/s540x810/1925deb92ce2723f2ee814ce23706b1173ec607b.jpg)
"Let me guess, another text from 'Max Verstappen'?" your dad teases from his spot at the kitchen counter, making air quotes with his fingers. He's wearing one of his many Red Bull Racing shirts, completely oblivious to the irony.
"Actually, yes," you reply, rolling your eyes. "He'll be here soon."
Your mom chuckles while peeling potatoes. "Honey, you can just tell us who your boyfriend really is. We won't judge, even if he's not a Formula 1 champion."
"Mom, I've told you a million times-"
"LOOK!" Ruby crashes into the kitchen, pointing at the TV in the living room where they're showing highlights from the last race. "It's YN's boyfriend!" She dissolves into giggles, clearly in on what she thinks is a funny joke.
"Very funny, Rubes," you mutter, but check your phone again when it buzzes.
Max: "Just turned onto your street. Nice neighborhood 😉"
Your heart starts beating faster. "He's here," you announce, heading toward the front door.
"Oh, we're still doing this?" your dad calls after you, amused. "Should I get my Max Verstappen cap for him to sign?"
"Actually, Dad, yes, you should," you shout back, slipping on your boots.
"Sweetie," your mom starts in that gentle voice she uses when she thinks you're being ridiculous, "you don't have to-"
The sound of a car pulling up interrupts her. You open the front door and step out onto the porch, watching as Max's car comes to a stop in your driveway. Your family has crowded behind you in the doorway, probably expecting to catch you in your "lie."
Max steps out of the car, looking unfairly handsome in his dark winter coat and scarf. His face lights up when he sees you, and you don't hesitate to run down the steps toward him.
"Hi," he grins, catching you in a tight hug and lifting you slightly off your feet. "Missed you."
You hear a loud gasp behind you, followed by what sounds like your dad choking on air.
"Missed you too," you murmur against his chest before turning to face your family, keeping one arm wrapped around his waist.
The scene on your front porch is priceless. Your dad's mouth is hanging open, his face pale except for two bright red spots on his cheeks. Your mom has both hands pressed to her face in shock. Ruby is the only one moving, bouncing up and down with excitement.
"IT REALLY IS THE FAST CAR MAN!" she shrieks, breaking the silence as she barrels down the steps toward you both.
Max laughs, crouching down to her level. "Hi Ruby. Nice to finally meet you. Your sister has told me a lot about you."
"You're real!" she exclaims, poking his arm as if to make sure.
"Very real," he confirms, looking thoroughly amused.
"I… you… but…" your dad stammers, still frozen in the doorway.
"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. LN," Max says, standing back up and guiding you and Ruby toward the porch. "Thank you for having me for Christmas."
Your mom seems to snap out of her shock first. "Oh my goodness, please come in! It's freezing out here. I… oh dear… the potatoes… I should… more food… I need to…"
"Mom, breathe," you laugh, as Max follows you inside.
Your dad hasn't moved an inch, still staring at Max like he's seeing a ghost. "You're… you're actually… the Brazil overtake…"
"Dad, no F1 talk yet!" you warn. "Let him at least get his coat off first."
"Right! Yes! Coat!" your dad says frantically. "I'll take your coat! And then maybe… could you… would you mind signing my…"
"Collection?" you finish for him, smirking. "The one you thought I was making up?"
Max raises his eyebrows at you, remembering your conversation about your dad's merchandise collection.
Ruby tugs on Max's hand. "Do you want to see my Frozen dolls? And can we watch the movie? Sissy said you've never seen it!"
"Ruby, let him settle in first," your mom calls from the kitchen, where she appears to be panic-cooking. "Oh God, is the food good enough? Do Formula 1 drivers have special diets? Should I-"
"Mom, the food will be perfect," you assure her, then turn to Max. "See? I told you they'd be cool about it."
Max tries to suppress his laugh as your dad continues to stare at him in awe, your mom stress-cooks enough food to feed an army, and Ruby continues pulling on his hand.
"Very cool," he agrees, pressing a kiss to your temple. "Though I think your dad might need to sit down."
"I'm fine!" your dad squeaks, then immediately sits down heavily on the nearest chair. "Just… just give me a minute to process that my daughter is actually dating Max Verstappen and I've been accidentally talking about my future son-in-law during every race and-"
"DAD!" you exclaim, feeling your face heat up while Max chuckles beside you.
"What? I'm just saying… all those times I said 'that Verstappen boy would make someone a good husband someday' and it turns out-"
"Okay!" you interrupt loudly. "Who wants coffee? Max, come help me with coffee!"
As you drag a laughing Max toward the kitchen, you hear Ruby start explaining the entire plot of Frozen to him, your mom muttering about needing to buy more food, and your dad still talking to himself about racing statistics.
"Still think this was a good idea?" you whisper to Max.
He pulls you closer, grinning. "The best. Though you might want to tell your dad to breathe before he passes out."
"Can we build a snowman after coffee?" Ruby calls out.
"Only if Max gets to be Elsa!" you shout back, earning you a playful glare from your boyfriend.
Looking around at your slightly chaotic but loving family, and seeing how naturally Max fits into it all, you can't help but smile. This is definitely going to be a Christmas to remember.
The initial chaos has settled into a cozy scene in your living room. You're curled up on the couch next to Max, who has Ruby practically attached to his side. She hasn't stopped talking since everyone sat down, and Max, to his credit, is giving her his complete attention.
"And then Elsa makes this huge ice castle," Ruby explains, using elaborate hand gestures. "Can you drive as fast as Elsa runs up the mountain?"
"Probably faster," Max answers with a grin, making Ruby's eyes widen.
"Even in the snow?"
"Even in the snow."
Your dad, who's finally regained his ability to form complete sentences, sits in his armchair trying very hard not to bombard Max with racing questions. He keeps opening his mouth, then closing it again when you give him a warning look.
"It's okay, Dad," you laugh. "You can ask him one race question. Just one."
Your dad looks like he might cry from happiness. "The overtake in Brazil-"
"Which one?" Max asks with a playful smirk, and your dad launches into an enthusiastic discussion about racing lines and grip levels.
Your mom returns from the kitchen with a tray of hot chocolate and cookies, having finally accepted that she doesn't need to cook enough food for an entire F1 paddock. "Here we go. I hope it's okay, Max. YN mentioned you like hot chocolate."
"It's perfect, thank you," Max says warmly, accepting a mug.
Ruby immediately reaches for a cookie, then pauses. "Do race car drivers eat cookies?"
"Only the fast ones," Max whispers conspiratorially, making her giggle.
"Ruby, give Max some space to breathe," your mom says gently, noticing how your sister is practically in his lap.
"It's fine," Max assures her. "I have nephews. I'm used to it."
Ruby beams at this information. "Really? Do they like Frozen too?"
"I don't know, but I'm sure they'd love to hear your explanation of it," he says, and Ruby launches into another detailed plot summary.
You catch your mom watching the interaction with soft eyes, all her earlier panic forgotten. She meets your gaze and mouths 'He's wonderful' when Ruby isn't looking.
Your dad has moved on from Brazil to discussing tire strategies, but stops himself mid-sentence. "Sorry, I'm probably boring you. You live this stuff."
"Not at all," Max says sincerely. "It's nice talking about it with someone who understands racing. YN usually just tells me to stop being a nerd when I talk about tire compounds."
"Because you spent two hours explaining the difference between C3 and C4 compounds!" you defend yourself.
"It's fascinating stuff," your dad says eagerly, and Max nods in agreement.
"Oh no, there's two of them now," you mutter to your mom, who laughs.
Ruby tugs on Max's sleeve. "Can we watch Frozen now? Please? You promised!"
"Ruby, let Max rest a bit," your mom starts, but Max shakes his head.
"A promise is a promise," he says solemnly to Ruby. "Should we watch it now?"
Ruby squeals with delight, jumping up to get the remote. Your dad looks slightly disappointed that his racing talk is being cut short, but you can see him hiding a smile at Ruby's excitement.
"Fair warning," you whisper to Max as Ruby sets up the movie, "she knows every word. And she will sing along."
"As long as she doesn't expect me to sing," he whispers back.
"MAX!" Ruby calls, patting the spot next to her on the floor where she's arranged pillows. "You have to sit here! It's the best spot!"
Max obliges, settling down next to her while you stay on the couch, exchanging amused looks with your parents as Ruby starts the movie, already mouthing along to the opening music.
Your mom leans over to you. "I'm sorry we didn't believe you," she whispers. "He's lovely. And so good with Ruby."
"I told you," you whisper back, watching as Ruby explains to Max why Elsa has ice powers.
Your dad joins in the whispered conversation. "Think he'd sign my mug collection later?"
"Dad!"
"What? I'm just saying, Christmas cards would be sorted for the next few years…"
You're about to respond when Ruby shushes you all loudly. "This is the best part!"
Max catches your eye and winks, clearly enjoying himself despite being roped into a Disney movie viewing with a very enthusiastic seven-year-old commentator. Your heart swells watching him with your family, how naturally he fits in, how gentle he is with Ruby.
"Do you want to build a snowman?" Ruby starts singing along with the movie.
"Later, Rubes," you promise. "Let's watch the movie first."
She nods seriously, then turns to Max. "Pay attention to this part. It's very important."
"I won't miss a second," he promises, and Ruby beams at him before turning back to the screen.
Your mom reaches over and squeezes your hand, giving you a knowing look. Even your dad has stopped thinking about racing long enough to appreciate the moment – his youngest daughter sharing her favorite movie with your boyfriend, who happens to be the F1 driver he's been fan-boying over for years.
It's perfect, you think, watching your family and Max together. Different from how you imagined telling them, but perfect nonetheless.
"Shh!" Ruby whispers loudly. "Elsa is about to sing Let It Go!"
Max shoots you a slightly panicked look as Ruby starts to stand up, clearly ready to perform the whole number. You just grin and shrug. After all, you did warn him about the singing.
Later that evening, you finally manage to steal a moment alone with Max. Ruby had fallen asleep during the third replay of Frozen, and your parents took her up to bed before retreating to the kitchen to finish some Christmas preparations.
You find Max on the back porch, leaning against the railing and looking up at the stars. The winter air is crisp, and you can see his breath forming little clouds in the darkness. Quietly, you step out and wrap your arms around him from behind, pressing your cheek against his back.
"Hey," he says softly, turning in your arms to face you. His hands find their way to your waist, pulling you closer. "Needed a little break from being Elsa?"
You laugh quietly, reaching up to brush a strand of hair from his forehead. "You were amazing with Ruby today. I think you're officially her new favorite person."
"She's a sweet kid," he smiles, then adds with a playful glint in his eyes, "Though I didn't expect to watch Frozen two times in one day."
"Just wait until tomorrow. She'll probably want to act it out."
He groans dramatically, but you can see the fondness in his expression. "The things I do for you."
"Mmm, and I appreciate every one of them," you murmur, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him softly.
Max responds immediately, one hand moving to cup your face while the other pulls you even closer. The kiss is gentle and unhurried, full of unspoken emotions. When you finally pull back, he rests his forehead against yours.
"Thank you," you whisper.
"For what?"
"For being so perfect with my family. For watching Frozen multiple times. For not running away when my dad started his racing commentary."
He chuckles, the sound rumbling in his chest. "I like your family. Your dad's racing knowledge is impressive, your mom's trying very hard not to mother me to death, and Ruby…" he pauses, smiling. "Ruby reminds me of Victoria at that age."
You snuggle closer, seeking his warmth in the cold air. "I was so nervous about telling them, and then even more nervous when they didn't believe me. But this… this is better than I imagined."
"Even with your dad asking me to sign his entire Red Bull merchandise collection?"
"Hey, at least he waited until after dinner," you laugh. "Though I'm pretty sure he's in there right now planning which items to bring out first."
Max wraps his arms more securely around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I love you," he says quietly, and your heart skips a beat like it does every time he says those words.
"I love you too," you reply, tilting your face up for another kiss.
This one is deeper, more passionate, until you hear the back door creak and quickly step apart.
"Oh!" your mom exclaims, looking flustered. "Sorry, I just… wanted to ask about breakfast preferences… but it can wait… carry on!"
She disappears back inside, and you both burst into quiet laughter.
"We should probably go back in," you sigh, though you make no move to leave his embrace.
"Probably," he agrees, but instead of letting go, he pulls you back for one more kiss. "Five more minutes?"
You smile against his lips. "Five more minutes."
In the quiet of Christmas eve, wrapped in each other's arms, you can't help but think how perfectly he fits into your life, into your family, into your heart. Tomorrow there'll be more Frozen, more racing talk, more of Ruby's endless questions, but right now, it's just the two of you, and it's everything.
The winter sun is just beginning to peek through the curtains of your childhood bedroom, casting a soft golden glow across the room. You're wrapped in warmth, nestled against Max's chest with his arm draped around your waist. His steady breathing tells you he's awake before he even moves.
"Good morning," he murmurs against your neck, his voice still rough with sleep. His lips brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine.
"Morning," you whisper back, feeling his hand slowly slide beneath your sleep shirt, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin.
"Sleep well?" he asks innocently, but his actions are anything but innocent as he presses closer, leaving a trail of kisses from your shoulder to your ear.
"Max," you breathe, caught between wanting to lean into his touch and knowing you should stop. "We can't… my parents…"
"Then we'll have to be very, very quiet," he whispers, nipping at your earlobe. His hand travels higher under your shirt, making your breath hitch.
You turn in his arms, ready to either give in or properly protest - though the way he's looking at you, eyes dark with desire and that signature smirk playing on his lips, makes you lean heavily toward the former.
"You're trouble," you murmur, reaching up to run your fingers through his disheveled hair.
He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "You love it."
Just as his hand starts to wander again, a voice pierces through the quiet morning:
"IT'S CHRISTMAAAAS!" Ruby's excited scream echoes through the entire house, followed by the thundering of small feet running down the hallway. "WAKE UP! WAKE UP! SANTA CAME!"
Max drops his forehead to your shoulder with a frustrated groan. "Your sister has impeccable timing."
"Welcome to Christmas with Ruby," you laugh, pressing a consoling kiss to his cheek. "I tried to warn you."
"YN! MAX!" Ruby's fists pound on your door. "GET UP! There are presents EVERYWHERE! And it SNOWED!"
"Five more minutes, Rubes!" you call back.
"NO MINUTES! NOW!" she insists, continuing to knock. "Mom said breakfast is ready and Dad made hot chocolate and I SAW A HUGE PRESENT WITH MY NAME ON IT!"
Max chuckles against your shoulder. "I suppose we should…"
"PLEASE!" Ruby calls again. "I promise I'll let you drink your coffee first!"
"That's quite the offer from her," you tell Max. "She usually doesn't allow any delays on Christmas morning."
"We're coming, Ruby!" Max calls out, sitting up and running a hand through his hair. "Give us two minutes to get dressed."
"TWO MINUTES! I'm counting!"
You can hear her dramatically counting down in the hallway, making Max laugh. "She's serious about this, isn't she?"
"Oh, you have no idea."
The living room is a festival of color and chaos when you finally make it downstairs. Ruby's bouncing by the tree in her Christmas pajamas, while your parents are settled on the couch with steaming mugs of coffee.
"Finally!" Ruby exclaims. "I counted way past two minutes!"
"Sorry, princess," Max says, accepting a coffee mug from your mom. "But I'm here now."
"Max, sweetheart, you really didn't have to get us anything," your mom says, noticing the pile of presents he'd arranged under the tree last night.
"Of course I did," he replies warmly. "It's Christmas."
Ruby's practically vibrating with excitement as your dad starts distributing gifts. "Can I open mine from Max first? Please?"
At your nod, she tears into the elaborate wrapping paper, gasping when she reveals a beautiful wooden chest with golden details. "It's like a treasure chest!"
"Open it," Max encourages, smiling.
Ruby lifts the lid carefully, her eyes widening. Inside is a complete collection of princess dresses, each one a perfect replica from different Disney movies, along with matching accessories and a tiara for each one.
"The chest is magical," Max explains, kneeling beside her. "Every time you open it, there might be a new surprise inside. And look at this…" He reaches in and pulls out a small envelope.
Ruby opens it to find a letter with the Disney castle letterhead. "Dear Princess Ruby," she reads aloud, her voice getting more excited with each word. "You are cordially invited to spend a royal weekend at Disney World, where you will have a private breakfast with all the Disney princesses…"
She doesn't even finish reading before launching herself at Max, nearly knocking him over. "Thank you thank you thank you! Can I try on the Elsa dress right now?"
"After presents," your mom laughs. "Let's see what else Santa brought."
Your dad opens his gift next, finding an envelope that makes him pause. "Son," he says, voice thick with emotion as he reads the contents. "This is…"
"VIP passes to the British Grand Prix," Max confirms. "Including garage access, grid walk, everything."
Your dad has to sit down, clutching the passes like they might disappear. "This is… I can't…"
"And this," Max hands him another package, "is just a little something extra."
Inside is a vintage racing jacket from your dad's favorite driver from the 80s, signed and authenticated. Your dad actually tears up.
Your mom opens her gift next, despite protesting again that Max shouldn't have gotten them anything. She unwraps a beautiful pair of earrings.
"Oh, Max," she whispers, "This is beautiful."
Ruby, who has been surprisingly patient, tugs at Max's sleeve. "Can we do my princess breakfast now?"
"After we finish presents," you laugh. "And maybe we should have real breakfast first?"
"But I'm a princess now," she declares. "Princesses have special breakfast times."
Your mom shakes her head fondly. "How about pancakes fit for a princess?"
"With chocolate chips?" Ruby negotiates.
"With chocolate chips," your mom confirms. "Max, honey, how do you like your pancakes?"
"However they're made is perfect," he assures her, but your mom is already heading to the kitchen, muttering about making sure she has enough chocolate chips.
Your dad finally finds his voice again. "Max, this is too much…"
"It's not," Max says firmly. "You're… you're family now. Or at least, I hope…"
He glances at you meaningfully, making your heart skip a beat.
Later, after pancakes and multiple princess dress changes from Ruby, you manage to steal some time alone with Max in your favorite spot on the back porch. The morning sun has warmed the air slightly, but there's still a crisp winter chill that gives you an excuse to stay close to him.
"Your turn," Max says softly, pulling out a small wrapped box from his pocket.
Your hands tremble slightly as you unwrap it, revealing a velvet jewelry box. Inside is a delicate silver necklace with two intertwined pendants - a heart and a tiny racing helmet.
"Max," you breathe, touching the pendants gently. "It's beautiful."
"Look at the back," he says quietly, his voice carrying a note of nervousness you rarely hear.
You turn the heart over to find an engraving: "You're my biggest victory. -MV"
"I love you," you whisper, pulling him down for a kiss. His arms wrap around you, holding you close as if you're the most precious thing in his world.
When you finally part, you hand him your gift - a wrapped box that makes him raise his eyebrows at the weight.
Inside, he finds a handmade scrapbook filled with your personal moments - sneaky paddock kisses, quiet mornings at home, victory celebrations, and candid moments no one else has seen. The final page holds a photo from yesterday - Max on the floor with Ruby, both laughing during their third viewing of Frozen.
"This is…" he starts, voice thick with emotion.
"Wait," you say softly, reaching into your pocket. You pull out a key on a simple keychain. "I thought… maybe… if you wanted…"
"Move in with you?" he finishes, breaking into that brilliant smile that never fails to make your heart race. "Yes. Absolutely yes."
He pulls you into another kiss, deeper this time, one hand cradling the back of your head while the other holds the key carefully.
"MAX!" Ruby's voice carries from inside. "I need help with my Cinderella shoes! And then we have to build a snowman! A FROZEN snowman!"
You both laugh against each other's lips.
"Duty calls, Elsa," you tease.
"Only if you'll be my Olaf," he grins, pressing one more quick kiss to your lips.
"Always," you promise, letting him lead you back inside where Ruby waits, already changed into her third princess dress of the morning.
Your dad catches your eye as you pass, "If you don't marry this boy," he whispers, "I will."
"Dad!"
"I'm just saying," he shrugs, then heads outside to join the snowman-building committee.
Your mom appears at your other side, wrapping an arm around you. "He's right, you know. He's perfect for you."
You lean your head on her shoulder, watching Max let Ruby direct him on where to place the snowman's arms. "I know," you smile. "I know."
"Best Christmas ever?" she asks softly.
Looking at your family, and Max in the middle of it all, belonging there like he's always been part of it - you smile.
"Best Christmas ever," you agree.
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fixation
in which you love spencer reid's hands so much you could... well, you could practically eat them. or at least let him put his fingers in your mouth.
18+ (fluff, suggestive) warnings/tags: finger sucking...lol....., established relationship, ummmm d/s adjacent dynamics, like softdom spencer but there's no sex, pet names, teasing a/n: this was inspired by @gublersg1rl who said 2 nights ago she would suck spencer's fingers as he was reading a book. my beautiful angel with so many great ideas in her beautiful head. anyway this will not be my magnum opus in terms of quality but its just a fun short little thing I hope u like :D
Spencer is reading.
He got home forty five minutes ago, and he’d hugged you and he’d kissed you—and they were good hugs and kisses, but as you sit curled on the opposite end of the couch from him, watching him read, it doesn’t feel like enough. Three days isn’t the longest he’s been gone, but you missed him like he was gone longer. And now, he’s not truly ignoring you—but he’s not giving you enough attention. It’s unintentional, but it’s making you feel all kinds of needy and overly-affectionate anyway.
Especially when he’s so gorgeous. Ankle crossed over knee, lithe fingers skimming over the page to keep track of his place. Those hands are truly distracting. It’s unlike you to be struck by such wildly inappropriate thoughts so out of context, but here you are, having been without him for days, practically feverish on the couch as you imagine all the things they could do. All the things they have done. The way they've traced down your bare spine, up your side, so lovingly in the middle of the night... how they've touched you elsewhere...
And... that's enough.
Despite the whole committed relationship thing, you still feel a bit scandalized picturing him like that. And you know from experience these thoughts will only get worse if you stay over here, staring at him, wanting him, so you crawl across the couch and under his arm, settling your head in his lap and looking up at him expectantly. He chuckles—a quiet, dry thing, that says he’s only partially surprised by your behavior.
“Well hello,” Spencer says, taking one hand off the book to settle on your leg.
“Hi.”
For a moment he just studies you, affection seeping into his eyes along with the humor already there. “Can I help you?”
“Mhm.”
His brow darts up.
“With what, baby?”
Baby. Your whole body tingles. He only calls you that when he’s feeling especially soft toward you and your whims. In turn you soften, and you both become rather mushy.
Unfortunately your brain is not excluded from melting, and you look up at him helplessly.
“Um…”
Spencer’s hand falls from your knee, taking an unnecessary but appreciated route down your thigh and up your stomach before settling on your cheek. He brushes away a few baby hairs before two knuckles begin drawing soft lines from the corner of your mouth up toward your ear and back again, and your stomach becomes a hail of butterflies. He’s got this soft smile on his face and you love him so much and he’s so sweet and perfect, you could just—
You’re not thinking very clearly when you tilt your head, angling your chin up until you catch his fingers against your lips. His eyes remain on yours as he traces the shape of your mouth with those same two knuckles—until you’re slowly parting, obstructing his path and offering a very different kind of invitation. Spencer’s eyes narrow fractionally and you watch the way his focus changes, the way he only tests the waters at first, letting the tips of his fingers trace the length of your bottom lip, before barely tugging down just enough to feel the soft warmth of the border of it. They skate over the ridge of your teeth and find the tip of your tongue, at which point you can’t help from closing your lips around his fingers, eyes fluttering contentedly as you draw them deeper into your mouth. His brows draw together, and those pretty pink lips part soundlessly like you’re the eighth wonder of the world in a way that has your thighs clenching. You hear the book shut and fall carelessly to the side table. He doesn’t even bother saving his place—too busy bringing that newly freed hand to your hair and combing gently against your scalp.
It’s strangely calming to have him like this—he’s undeniably with you, undeniably close, against your lips and tongue. All your worries about his distance dissolve and you feel incredibly comforted. With his other hand, his thumb begins stroking a line from the bridge of your nose up your forehead, and you could pass out.
“Comfy?” He asks after a long moment, slowly withdrawing his fingers from the heat of your mouth. You pout.
“I was.”
Spencer hums, eyes soft on you. “I don’t think I should be nurturing your oral fixation, angel.”
“You didn’t like it?” You challenge, turning your head inward to nose at his stomach. He cups your cheek with damp fingers and pointedly turns your head outward again. If he wasn’t so blushy and flustered and cute you might’ve cared more about the feeling of your own spit on your skin.
“Don’t make it about me.”
You allow a minute to pass in silence.
Fine.
“I liked it,” you say shyly.
Spencer’s response is deeply fond as he smiles down at you. “Did you?”
Like he couldn’t tell.
“Mhm. You should let me do it all the time.”
His smile flickers wider the way it does when he’s about to tease you.
“I don’t know if you deserve it. I don’t know if you can be good all the time.”
You make a face. “Shut up.”
“Is that what we say when we want something?” Before he can pull his hand away, you nip at his fingers. He laughs. “You’re off to a terrible start. I think you need to work on your manners. Not bite the hand that… goes in your mouth.”
“Is that the saying?”
“I’m pretty sure,” he nods sarcastically, helping you up until you’re sitting across his lap. He lovingly tucks hair behind your ear, eyes warm as they flit across your face up close. “You know, that was incredibly unhygienic. So much bacteria it boggles the mind.”
“Yeah? That kinda turns me on.”
Spencer leans in to kiss you sweetly, choosing your mouth over his worry about bacterial transmission. “You are so psychologically concerning,” he whispers against your lips. You sling your arms around his neck.
“Because of the bacteria thing or the oral fixation thing?”
His hands settle on your hips. “Both, lovely. For so many reasons.”
It’s only another tease, but you pull back anyway so he can see the full force of your pout. “Don’t say that. It’s mean.”
“I was kidding! It was a joke. I was joking.”
“It was mean.”
“Okay,” Spencer begins, patient and happy to untangle this ridiculous snag if that’s what it takes to make you content again, “Freud’s psychosexual stages of development are contentious at best. I’m not worried about your oral fixation because I don’t really believe in such a thing. I was just teasing you, but I’m sorry I hurt your feelings.”
“So you’ll let me do it again?”
Spencer pulls you back into another kiss.
“You’re kind of insatiable, you know that?”
When you don’t answer, only wait for him to respond, he sighs goodnaturedly.
“You know you can have any part of me whenever you want it.”
You give him a winning smile and kiss his cheek in reward.
“You’re so nice, Spence.”
“I thought I was mean.”
“Now you’re nice.”
“Because you got what you wanted?” You nod enthusiastically. He seems not quite as thrilled, though perhaps distantly amused by his own helplessness when it comes to you. “Yeah, I feel like that happens a lot, doesn’t it?”
But it clearly doesn’t bother him that much. He’s still smiling when you kiss him again.
#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fic#spencer Reid fluff#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x fem!reader#criminal minds#spencer reid x you#criminal minds fic#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds imagine
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A WELCOME DISTRACTION || kang dae-ho
pairing: Kang Dae-ho x reader
summary: Dae-ho helps you learn to play Gong-gi
word count: 1.5k
warnings: squid game stuff, but other than than just fluff
A/N: I got the rules of the game from watching the show, so they could be wrong. I think it's gender neutral but lmk if it's not so I can fix it
It looks like you're going to spend at least another day here. You're going to have to play at least one more game. Despite voting to leave, the majority of people disagreed with you, and now you're stuck here. You may be drowning in student loan debt, but at least your alive, and, if you've learned anything positive from this experience, it is that life is full of opportunities.
You take your food from the masked men and find a small space in between the beds where you can be alone. You don't think you can eat right now, so you put those to the side and sit on your knees, pulling five small stones out of your pocket. When you need is a distraction, and this game could do it.
Across the room, Dae-ho winces as Jung-bae hits him in the shoulder, almost making him drop his milk.
"What?" Dae-ho says, annoyed.
"You're staring," Jung-bae says. Dae-ho gives him a confused look, to which he nods his head in your direction.
Dae-ho looks down at his feet as he feels heat rise in his face. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Jung-bae scoffs a laugh, looking at the former Marine. "Please. You cheered so loud when her team crossed the finish line I thought you're life was on the line, too." Jung-bae laughs at his own joke, Young-il laughing along.
Dae-ho rolls his eyes, finishing his milk and putting the carton down next to him. Sure he thinks you're cute, but this is no place for any of this stuff.
"You should talk to them," a quiet voice says. Dae-ho looks up to see Jun-hee looking at him.
Young-il nods. "She's right. We don't know how much longer we will be alive, you should speak now before you lose the chance."
Dae-ho looks back over at you. You're hunched over on the floor between beds, your back facing him. With a small surge of confidence, Dae-ho nods, standing up. He takes a few steps in your direction before second guessing himself, stopping in place. He nearly falls over as Jung-bae shoves him towards you.
As he gets closer to you, he can hear the sounds of something repeatedly hitting the hard floor, as well as soft curses coming from you.
"Are you alright?" he asks, standing by the entrance to the small alley between beds.
You gasp and look up at him, being too invested in what you were doing to notice someone coming up to you. Acting on instinct, you back yourself closer to the wall away from him.
Dae-ho puts his hands up. "I don't want to hurt you, just wanted to see what you were doing."
You take a look at his face and number. You remember seeing him yelling yesterday with his friend, as if he was a soldier. It had actually made you laugh, which was much needed in a place like this. You also thought he was kinda cute. Getting out of your defensive position, you shyly show him the small stones in your hand.
He furrows his brows and gets closer so he can have a better look, kneeling on the floor in front of you. He recognizes the rocks from the ground of the last game, but has no idea why you have them.
You see his confused look and sigh. "I was trying to play Gong-gi. I've never played before and it looked interesting." You let out a little laugh. "I'm not very good at it, though. I don't even know if I'm doing it right."
Dae-ho gives you a small smile. "I can show you, if you want."
You look up at him with wide eyes. "You know how to play?"
He grows a bit embarrassed and looks everywhere except for your face. "I have older sisters, we used to play when I was little."
Expecting you to laugh at him, he is surprised when you hold out the stones. He smiles and holds out his palm for you to place the rocks in, then moves back to make room between the two of you.
"You have to throw one of the pieces in the air as you grab the others, and you need to grab more as you go. You start with one each, then two, then three and one, then all four. After that, flip them onto the backside of your hand and catch them without flipping your hand over." He takes a deep breath as he rolls of the stones onto the floor. As nervous as he feels with you watching him, he knows he can do it. After all, he did just do it perfectly with guns pointed at him.
He quickly goes through the game, not dropping a single stone. When he makes the final catch and opens his palm for you to see, he finds your mouth open as you stare at his hand in awe.
"That was amazing," you say to him with a smile.
Dae-ho smiles and feels the heat rising to his face again. "You should see my sisters do it, they move so fast you can't even see what's happening," he chuckles, making you laugh. "Besides, I saw you do spinning top before. You wrapped it in seconds and got it to spin on the first try! I was always so bad at spinning top as a kid."
You smile shyly, feeling heat in your face. "It was my favorite game as a kid. I didn't have many toys, so I would play it for hours. I'd try to teach you, but I don't have a top."
Dae-ho smiles. "That's okay." He holds out his hand for you to take the stones. "You're turn to try."
You take the stones from him, scattering them onto the ground between you. You smile as you manage to get each singular one, but when you try to get two at once, you don't catch the stone in time. You let out a frustrated sigh, sitting back on your knees.
"You're doing good," Dae-ho reassures. "Try going for the ones that are closer together, and throw the stone a little higher to give you more time."
You nod at the advice and pick up the stones again. You get the first two, but lose it again as you try to get the second two. Though you get frustrated with yourself, Dae-ho never does, patiently watching you and giving you tips.
It takes more tries than you would like to admit, but you are finally able to make the final catch. You yell out in victory with a big smile on your face, and the man across from you does the same. You get a little shy as you see that your yells have got attention from the people around you, particularly that one judgmental old man who really has no right to judge anyone considering he has more debt than most people here combined.
When everyone looks away, you smile up at the man again as he hold him hand up for you to high-five.
"I feel so accomplished," you laugh, making him chuckle. "Thank you for helping me. It was nice to play a game and not have to worry for my life."
He smiles sadly. "I'm happy I could help. My name is Dae-ho."
You smile back at him and give him your name. "If we both get out of here, Dae-ho, I'll teach you how to get the top to spin every time."
"When," he says. You give him a confused look. "You said if we get out of here, but when we get out of here, I would like that very much."
You smile at him. "I'm looking forward to it."
Dae-ho spots your food sitting on the bed next to you and frowns. "You didn't eat?"
You look at it. "I wasn't hungry so I was saving it. I got so wrapped up in this game I forgot about it."
The man moves to get up. "I'll leave you to eat, then."
"You don't have to leave," you say quickly, making him stop and look at you. "I mean, I don't mind if you want to stay."
Dae-ho smiles and nods, sitting down again, this time next to you. As you eat, you both talk about yourselves, how you ended up here, your lives back home, anything that comes to mind.
"What are you going to do when you get out of here?" Dae-ho asks you when your food is long gone.
You sigh and shrug. "I'll pay off whatever debt that I can, but besides that, I really don't know." You look at him. "What about you?"
"I'll pay off my debts, too," he says. He takes a deep breath before looking at you, feeling his nerves rising. "I also think that I'd like to take you to dinner."
His nerves calm as he watches a smile slowly take over your face. "I'd like that."
Dae-ho smiles. "Then it's a date."
When it is time to go to sleep, Dae-ho can only think about how he is going to do everything he can to make sure the two of you get out of here alive.
#dae ho#player 388#dae-ho#daeho x reader#dae ho x reader#dae-ho x reader#squid game#squid game 2#squid game season 2#kang dae ho#kang daeho#daeho
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