#conveniently placed beam of light

[mondaymelon]

₊⊹ 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐂𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 ♡. | genshin!various x gn!reader

「 "𝐚𝐡, 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐮𝐩…"」

— in which you kiss him ... accidentally, and indirectly.

𝐅𝐋𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐃 — kazuha, gaming, FREMINET, THOMA, KAVEH, chongyun, gorou

— "Ah, wrong cup."

It's a warm morning, yet the shade of the light canopy of trees provides ample comfort. At your words, however, the amicable conversation halts. Gingerly, you place his cup back on its saucer, uttering a quiet apology. "Sorry, sorry..."

Ugh, a quiet moment with someone you'd been pining after for ages, and you likely just sabotaged any chance you had. Making someone uncomfortable is surely not a way to have someone fall head over heels for you. You cautiously glanced upwards, catching the sight of... something you didn't expect...!?

He hid in his hand, raised and flush against his face. It was rather insufficient in the whole "hiding" department, however, for you could still clearly see the fluster on his features and the red cast across the tips of his ears. Just above the cover of his fingers were his eyes, hurriedly averted from yours. His mouth was slightly ajar, but in the moments that passed, his lips moved to form whispers you couldn't quite catch.

You stood, frantic. Really, every one of your plans was going awry. "I'm sorry! I, I'll go get you a new cup-"

"He caught his hand in his before you could fully depart, clutching it tightly. His usually cool skin was warm. "N, No, I- It's fine..."

He watched your face brighten with relief as you sat back down, completely cheery again, and released a breath quietly.

Ah, how was he supposed to tell you that the mere sight of your lips touching where he had put his made his heart skip a beat?

— It simply wasn't fair.

𝐓𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 — HEIZOU, KAEYA, CHILDE, venti, ayato, LYNEY

— "Wait, let me try..."

Word had gotten around of a new drink, supposedly "the best in all of teyvat"... naturally, that called for a timely visit. It didn't exactly matter who you went with, though who were you fooling, it did, and he'd been the first one that came to mind when you were drafting a letter. Now, he stood by your side, leisurely swinging his arms while he walked and smiling smugly.

The reason? The moment you reached into your pocket to fish out your wallet to pay the fee for two drinks, you'd found your pockets empty, and that's where he had swooped in, graciously handing over his mora instead. The moment the two of you exited the vicinity of the drink stall, however, he somehow materialized your wallet once more and placed it in your hands with a cat-like grin. That little... you'd be sure to treat him to a meal sometime soon, a favor like that couldn't just be gone unpaid.

...That, and it was a convenient excuse to spend another outing with him.

"Hey, you got the limited edition flavor? C'mon, give me just a sip..." You beamed when he handed said drink down towards you, taking a sip from his straw — until you realized just what you'd done, of course.

It wasn't like it was something dire, not by any means. You were rather the romantic, and the fact that... well, hadn't the two of you just kissed indirectly?

You didn't voice your thoughts, only meekly retreated after handing the bottle back to him, growing even more flustered when your fingers brushed against his in the process. He seemed to hear them, however, and a smirk made its way onto his lips.

"Oh, don't tell me you were aiming for an indirect kiss all along?"

"W- No!" Ugh, that twinkle in his eyes was dangerous. It's easy to see that he doesn't believe you in the slightest. Yet, before you can dispense another rebuttal, he reaches a hand up to your hair and makes a mess of it.

— "Aha, who knew you were so sly~"

𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐈𝐅𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 — alhaitham, XIAO, albedo, diluc, neuvillette

— "Is something wrong?"

Well, not exactly "wrong", per se. Instead, there was definitely something wrong with you in particular.

The situation started off like any other would. You found the man in his usual place, and greeted him with a smile, to which he nodded in response. He was a busy person, so you'd decided to take the initiative and make him a boxed lunch, only planning to give it to him and then let him carry on with whatever tasks he needed to complete — only... hey, wasn't it too out of character of him to ask you to feed him??

He glanced up at you, his head subconsciously tilting to the side. Just with that simple movement, a figurative arrow struck your heart. "If it's too much trouble, nevermind-"

You awkwardly coughed into your fist, trying to disperse any awfully hopeful thoughts of "hey, isn't this so romantic!?" in your head — yearning for him was one thing, but projecting your imagination of him would be another entirely. "No, it's fine- I was just caught off guard, is all..." At this point, you were more so convincing yourself than him. You dipped your head in a nod to yourself. Of course, he was so swamped with duties that he couldn't spare the time to feed himself, that was the case, wasn't it?

"Here, open wide..." You took a portion of the food and lifted it up to his lips, and he ate it agreeably. Hamster. He's like a hamster, a thought you really shouldn't be having considering how his disposition was, but seeing him swiftly chewing the portion in his cheeks... you cleared your throat, only to flinch with a start upon realizing he'd taken the utensils from you. Now, he held some of the lunch up to you, gesturing it to your mouth.

"Eh, but this is for you-" You declined, yet the insistence in his gaze only grew.

"You brought it for me, so you should have some as well."

"Well... alright," not willing to bother with an argument you were not likely to win, you ate what he hovered before you gratefully, trying to ignore the way he was staring at you as you ate.

W, Wait, hold on, isn't that the same cutlery he used-

"Your face is red. Did you choke? Here, let me-"

"No, it's just that- we, just now- ah, it's nothing."

— "Mhm."

( a/n ) new post format and its silly ( i hate everything about this ) :stareyes: ahahah anyways. trying to revive myself so. you guys get ( poorly cooked ) food :>

𝐭 𝐚 𝐠 𝐥 𝐢 𝐬 𝐭 : @manager-of-the-pudding-bank, @iamdedinside, @ilyuu, @falors, @swivy123, @scara-is-my-wife, @lupicalbestwolf, @justyoureader,@fiannee, @aether-darling, @ceneid, @avensuersa, @solxima, @sangoqueenkoko, @haliyamori ...

[aphelionwrotes11]

MDNI 18+ (light dubcon) unedited

Part 3 : Trucker!simon

CW: smut, cunnilingus/fingering, fluff, a little bit of hurt/comfort

1.6k words

Trucker!simon finally takes his bird home

It takes only a month before you’re quitting your job at the shitty truck stop and talking your landlord out of your lease. Simon does all of the heavy lifting when it comes to the moving. Attaches a trailer to the back of his semi cab and uses that to haul your belongings to his private home in the outskirts of the city.

He tells you this is his actual house, the one he’s taken you to before was just the rental he kept to stay in when he was in the city. Just more convenient, closer to the loading dock for the company he works for. It shocks you that he can afford to rent and own a property at the same time, and he does it just because it’s convenient.

It’s a real nice property, large and lush. The long gravel driveway is lined with pines and brush, at the end is a two story home with a large unfenced yard full of green grass and clover. You can’t help the way you gape at the house, So beautiful, and obviously paid for by the money he made in the military and his fat check from long rides in his truck.

He walks you around the entire property as soon as you get there, showing you around inside and out. The house is even more beautiful inside than out, with gorgeous stained glass windows, wooden beams, spiraling stairs, and a kitchen lined with green tile with flower accents. The decor itself is all rather plain, practically a blank canvas, but it just gives you more to work with. There’s a couch where there’s supposed to be one, a coffee table, plates and silverware for two, but not much else.

When you question him on why there’s practically no furniture at all, he just says he’s never needed much. You imagine so, just one man living in a big house. He doesn’t mention that he bought this property not too long after he saw you for the first time, known since the beginning he would have you one way or another.

“Ther’s space in th’back for a garden. Can put whatever ya want in it.” He tells you, and smiles as you grin excitedly, saying that’s great because you’ve always wanted to start up a garden. (He knows, came home and built up some plant beds and bought gardening supplies after you told him that on the first date.)

He spends the next few hours helping you unpack all of your things, which isn’t much. Didn’t exactly have a lot of space for anything other than necessities in your dingy apartment. He takes extra care placing your folded clothes into your shared dresser. Lining your panties beside his boxers. Chuckles as you wave him off, telling him you can do it yourself with a blush on your cheeks. Walks away with a pair of black lace panties tucked in his back pocket, he’s gonna put those in his truck for the next ride out.

The first few weeks are like a dream, the two of you spending nearly every moment together. You weren’t expecting it to feel this easy. You weren’t expecting yourself to wanna be around him so much. You used to call yourself an introvert, preferred your personal time and space over all else. But now you find yourself crawling across the couch to nestle yourself into his arms late at night, or opting to read your books on the bench in the garage as he works on his truck.

The first time he leaves for work isn’t as bad as you thought it would be, he was gone for only 14 hours. Left in the early morning when it was still dark and came home just in time for dinner.

The second time wasn’t so easy, his ride was a full 25 hours away, and you found yourself nervous the entire time he was gone. He told you before hand that he would occasionally have to go on overnight rides, sometimes he’d have to go on rides that would take a week. But he assured you that those were few and far between. Unfortunately he had told you that before holiday season.

And now, as the next week goes by and you find yourself only seeing your boyfriend a few hours a day, your irritation only grows with each passing 24 hours. When he comes back to his lovely bird being sharp and cold, he knows that something has gotta change.

“Whots th’matter, bird? Talk to me.” He says, a tinge of desperation in his voice, only to be met with your frown as you turned back to your book.

When he first picked up this job after retiring from the military, he didn’t mind the ever changing schedule or long rides. Figured it was for the best, something to keep him busy until he’s too old to work anymore. That was until he met you. Suddenly the long rides felt like eternity until he could return to that greasy truck stop to see you again.

And now that he has you all for himself, the long rides and changing hours make him dread waking up in the morning just to leave your beautiful sleeping form all alone. On the third day of your cold shoulder, the next time he goes into work he has a talk with his boss. He’s promised a strict schedule and reduced hours as soon as the holiday season is finished, with all of the other truckers already knee deep in work, it just wasn’t an option to implement his new schedule so soon.

He makes plans to use a couple weeks of his unused PTO by the next month so that he can make up for the lost time.

When he comes home after a particularly rough shift, his skin feels tight and muscles tense, all he can hope for is to pull you into his arms and nestle his face into your neck. But as it’s been for the past few days, you’re cold once he comes home. He can’t help the irritation that builds in his gut as you ignore him when he asks how your day was.

“Alright bird, that’s it.” He says, rising from his seat that the table and getting to you in record time.

You gasp as he lifts you up and lays you on the kitchen island. Ignores your protests as he lifts up your nightgown and pulls down your panties to reveal an already glistening pussy.

“Been so good for you bird, workin’ so hard, gettin’ that shit done just to come home to you all pissy..” he growls, letting out a low groan as he presses a thumb to your swollen clit.

“Whot you so mad at me for? Think you can’t talk to me?” He asks, pressing his index finger into your pussy as you squirm.

“Would rather you yell at me than this shit- fuck-“ he says lowly, bringing his nose down to your lips and sniffing..like a dog. Chuckles as you whine at him.

“Don’t worry birdie, I’ll make you feel better.”

With that, he starts thrusting his fingers into your throbbing cunt as he licks your clit with his thick tongue.

It’s not long before he’s thrusting into you at a godforsaken pace, the only sounds being your moans and mewls, his low groans, and the lewd sound of your wet pussy being finger fucked and sucked on by his drooling mouth.

“Love you bird, y’know I do-“ he mumbles into your pussy, pressing a kiss to your clit.

You feel that familiar coil of pleasure tighten in your core, your toes are curling, your nerves are hot. You choke out a warning, telling him you are so, so close. He doesn’t relent, just carries on.

The orgasm is blinding, your eyes rolling back into your head as you clamp your thighs around his head. He moans into your pussy as you cum, slurping up your juices and rubbing his nose against your clit.

Pushes you to the point of near overstimulation, stops once you start crying that it’s too much. When he pulls away, a string of his spit and your juices is connected to his mouth. His pupils are blown wide and he looks out of it. He’s panting, fingers digging into the fat of your thighs as he presses kisses into the tender skin.

He presses his cheek into your tummy and glances up at you, “feeling better?” He asks with a smirk.

After he’s finished with you (which is when the sun has long since set) and you are snuggled in his warm arms on your shared bed is when he tells you about his conversation with his boss.

“M’sorry. Been neglecting ya, haven’t I birdie? Won’t do it again.” He tells you. But you shush him with your own apologies, telling him you should’ve just talked to him, shouldn’t have ignored him and so on.

“Don’t ever feel ‘fraid of talkin’ to me, bird. I’ll always listen.” He says into your hair.

That night, after a long week of coldness and anger, the two of you lay sound asleep in each others warm embrace, totally peaceful.

Note: hey guys!!! Hope you enjoyed this one!! Had to add in a little bit of sweetness for you all 🩷🩷 as usual this one is unedited so please forgive any mistakes or lack of cohesiveness, I’m planning on coming back and editing a bunch of stuff eventually. But for now I’m just kinda throwing random things out for fun 😆 anyways, next thing I’ll be bringing out will most probably be stalker!simon, that or trucker!john price. Love you all, xoxo 😘

Simon Riley master list

[pretty-little-mind33]

Dad!Tangerine x wife!fem!reader

Summary: Based on the song "I Saw Mommy Kissing Santa Claus"

Genre: Fluff

Warnings: none

~ MERRY CHRISTMAS EVE EVERYONE 🎄♥️ (and happy holidays to those who don't celebrate Christmas!!)

"I saw Mummy kissing Santa Claus last night," Clement suddenly exclaims, looking up from where he's unwrapping his presents, the wrapper torn in his small hands. The six-year-old looks dead serious, and Tangerine almost chokes on his hot chocolate, excusing himself and clearing his throat.

You tense beside your husband on the sofa, clutching his thigh. Apricot, your daughter and Clement's twin, turns to her dad from where she's sitting on his lap, previously happily admiring the doll Santa gave her. Her lips turn into a pout, and her dark brown curls fall over her eyes. She clumsily pushes them away with her palm, tilting her head as she narrows her eyes at you, examining your expression.

"Hm, did she now, Clem?" Lemon pipes up, sitting straighter. He sends his brother a smirk, and your cheeks warm up.

"I did no such thing," you say, your tone light.

"I saw you," Clement insists, standing up. He's wearing the red-and-green reindeer-printed pajamas you, Tangerine, and Apricot are also wearing. Tangerine had rolled his eyes and said it was tacky, but you'd made him wear them anyway.

"Right there," Clement adds, very seriously, pointing to the living room under the mistletoe in the archway you'd put up as a joke. Tangerine looks mortified.

Lemon bursts into laughter, clearly deducing what must have happened.

Tangerine locks eyes with you, the memory silently replaying in both of your minds. He had woken you up around 1 am. last night, your eyes still bleary from sleep, and hurried you into the kitchen to drink and eat the milk and cookies Apricot and Clement had set out for Santa.

You remember leaning against the counter, nibbling on the cookies with a smile. Tangerine returned your smile, wiping some crumbs from your lips with his thumb.

"These are delicious, my love," Tangerine had said. The kitchen was dimly lit by the light from inside the refrigerator. You beamed, placing one half-eaten cookie back onto the plate and looking up at your husband. You searched for something nearby, then turned back around and plopped a Santa hat lopsided on his head.

"Very handsome," you teased, your sleepy state making it all the more hilarious. Tangerine chuckled, his hands tightening around your hips. He kept the hat on, pushing you backward until you were standing beneath the archway—where you'd conveniently hung the mistletoe.

"Oops," Tangerine drawled, his voice low and husky.

You looked up, a smirk curling your lips. "Hm." You leaned up and kissed his cheek.

Tangerine shook his head, his arms tightening around you as he captured your lips in his. He kissed you passionately, the hat's pom-pom falling in front of your nose. You laughed, cupping his cheeks as you pulled him closer.

You both must have missed hearing the tiny gasp and the light footsteps rushing back up the stairs to Clement's room.

"Mummy wouldn't kiss Santa," Apricot interrupts, pulling your attention back to the present. Tangerine bounces her on his knee, smiling at his daughter. "Santa is old. Daddy is young," she tells her brother as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"Daddy is not that young," Clement replies, rolling his eyes. He rushes to Tangerine and pokes his dad's temple. "Grey," he states, causing Lemon to erupt into another fit of laughter.

"Oi, buddy, not nice," Tangerine shakes his head. He’s bouncing Apricot a little less now, glaring at his son. There's no real malice behind the look, but you know your husband well enough to tell he doesn't like his age being scrutinized.

You turn and help Clement into your lap, pushing some hair away from his forehead, desperately trying to come up with an excuse without ruining the illusion of Santa for your six-year-old.

"Mummy was just kissing Santa on the cheek," you scramble to explain. You wonder how Clement has such a strong sense of right and wrong while only being six years old. "As a thank-you for bringing you and your sister such amazing gifts!"

"And is Daddy okay with you giving Santa a kiss?" Clement asks suspiciously.

You turn to Tangerine, locking eyes with him.

"Yeah, is he okay with it, hm?" Lemon teases, sipping his hot chocolate.

Tangerine clears his throat, nodding. "Yeah, bud, I am. Mummy was just being nice."

"So she could get more presents?" Apricot jumps in, smiling widely, showing her missing tooth.

You laugh. "Yeah, exactly that, sweetie," you say. Tangerine hums, reaching for your hand and giving it a squeeze.

Clement jumps down from your lap, returning to check the presents until he finds one for you. He scurries over and drops it in your lap.

"Here, Mummy, this is for you!"

"Thank you, honey," you smile at him.

You look at the tag: For Mummy, From Santa, scribbled in Tangerine's handwriting. Your heart warms as you carefully unwrap it, revealing a small, unmistakable jewelry box.

"What is it?" Apricot scrambles off Tangerine’s lap, accidentally kneeing his groin. He groans and gently pushes her off so she can see your present.

You open the box carefully, revealing a delicate, clearly expensive necklace—the very one you'd admired while window shopping with Tangerine. Your smile widens as you hold it up for your daughter to see.

"Seems expensive," Lemon quips, earning a small glare from his brother.

"It's shiny," Apricot says, and Clement reaches up to touch it, but you hand him the box instead, not wanting him to break the chain. You ruffle his hair with your free hand.

"Santa knows me very well," you say, meeting Tangerine's gaze. You smile at the faint blush on his cheeks.

"You should give him another kiss when you see him, Mummy!" Clement exclaims, still playing with the box.

Lemon suppresses a laugh as you nod, smiling at Tangerine—who is hiding his own giddy smile while clearing his throat.

"I just will," you whisper, your tone light and suggestive as you slip on the necklace. Your eyes stay on your husband, enjoying how flustered he looks, and you wink at him.

You’ll be giving him more than a kiss to thank him.

[moneypowerglorymiddleofmiami]

— trickentine જ⁀➴♡ ︎

pairing: luke castellan x aphrodite!reader

summary: when eros, the god of love, makes the annual valentine visit to camp half-blood, he conveniently unintentionally leaves his bow and arrow in the capable hands of his younger half-sister.

warnings: nothing i think, except for like one curse word (pls do tell me if i miss any though!)

genre: ...romcom?

part 2

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The gods were many things: powerful at their core, benevolent to those who merit it, temperamental when goaded, and mysterious in their methods— but there was one trait that defined them most of all, incandescently littered in their tales and lores: they were tricksters.

You really should’ve known better than to pick up that stray quiver of arrows.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

The Aphrodite Cabin consistently made it a point to celebrate Valentine’s Day with much fanfare. Everyone has been busy the entire week preceding it; there were fresh roses to harvest, pink and red deserts to be made, hundreds of paper hearts to be cut, ribbons to be tied and acres to decorate. As one of the older siblings, a huge chunk of the responsibility fell on your shoulders. Needless to say, you spent an entire extra hour in the bathroom trying to put your concealer to good use.

A mere 10 minutes after leaving your cabin on V-Day, you’d managed to snap and glare at nearly everyone who even thought of intercepting your path.

Nearly everyone because you knew better than to direct your ire at the god of love.

“You didn’t even blend.” Eros said, perusing your make-up judgmentally. “Consider your favorite demigod sister card revoked.”

In his current human form, his hair was a deep shade of black and coiffed to perfection, his eyes a brown hue that you could only describe as melodramatic, and his skin beautifully tanned from frolicking in the sunlight.

Gods, how you missed to frolick in the sunlight. These days, you had to slave in it.

“Lord Eros.” You bowed, desperately fighting the urge to roll your eyes and purse your lips.

“I adore what you’ve done with the place.” He waved his hand off dismissively. He trudges ahead of you, officially beginning his annual Valentine inspection. “Although I definitely think it could use a little more sparkle. Perhaps a little more pink, too.”

‘Pink? For Valentines? Groundbreaking.’ You drawled inside your head. “The Hephaestus cabin is tinkering with a smoke machine to make it emit glitter.”

“Wonderful.” He replied passively, his attention drawn towards the dining pavilion where hundreds of glowing hearts hung from mid-air. Eros turned towards you. “Fairy lights on the beams?”

“On it.” You nodded your head tiredly, scribbling messily onto a notepad. “Anything else?”

“Everything’s perfect, except…” He trailed off before raising an eyebrow at you. “Find yourself a boyfriend, maybe? You need to loosen up.”

“Oh my gods,” You muttered under your breath, fighting the urge to physically recoil.

─── ° ᡣ𐭩 . ° . ───

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed you slacking off on training.” Luke chastised with a tut, tugging your arm towards the training areas. Your feet were basically dragging against the dirt, soiling your sneakers and flicking particles of dust against your skirt, but you couldn’t care less.

“Luke, look around you. What do you see?” You asked, your tone too saccharine to be considered serious.

He decided to humor you anyway. “Hearts.”

“10 points to House Hermes. Now,” You leaned in conspiratorially, “Who do you think set this whole place up?”

Luke barely opened his mouth before you answered your own question.

“Me.” You jabbed a finger against your chest. You narrowed your eyes at him. “I set this whole place up. I planned it— the theme, the color scheme, the glitter, the ribbons, the dazzling pink fountain with mini-Cupids who sing at the hour!”

“It looks very pretty!” He said, panicked.

“Yes, I know it looks very pretty.” You kissed your teeth. “Don’t you think I deserve a little break because it looks very pretty?”

He shook his head.

“You are insufferable!” You groaned.

“Hey! In my defense,” He raised both of his arms in the air to plead innocence, “You’re the one who said you wanted to develop a skill by the end of the summer."

His voice was pitched higher by the end in a poor imitation of your’s. You scrunched your nose in distaste.

“Gods, why do I keep digging my own grave?” You mumbled. Luke shook his head in amusement.

He led you into the clearing of the archery field, a line of circle targets dotted around the edge of the forest. A quiver of arrows was hung against the branches, different from the ones in the armory but definitely familiar to you.

“You can use those. Guess one of the kids forgot to return them after practice.” He shrugged. Luke mustn’t have noticed the difference.

You reached up to grab the weapons, still incredulous but definitely not alarmed enough to hesitate. The material thrummed in your hands.

“Go shoot.” He grinned.

“Very helpful instructions.” You muttered.

“Well, it’s pretty straightforward, sweetheart.” He sauntered over to one of the targets, leaning against the wooden frame. “You’ve been taught the basics, you just need the application. Now, shoot.”

“I could literally hit you.” You said blankly as you mounted the arrow against your bow.

“Consider it your challenge to not hit me.” He raised a thumbs-up.

“You’re insane.” You responded, irked and stressed by his casualness. “I’m sleep-deprived!"

Again, Luke just shrugged his shoulders. You huff, but then follow his lead anyway. You close one eye as you raise your weapon to your line of vision, zeroing in on the target.

As soon as the arrow flicked away from your fingers, it changed its course. When it should’ve followed a curved arch towards the red target, it whizzed away and made a beeline straight for Luke. A pink trail of haze followed its path.

“Duck!” You yell.

The arrow pierced through his chest at nearly the same time Luke’s body collided with the ground.

“That’s where those went.” Eros snapped his fingers as he emerged behind you. His glinting eyes were looking intently at the bow and quiver on you, an imperciptible smile on his face.

Your eyes widened in surprise. Shit.

“Lord Eros! I sincerely apologize.” You immediately took off the weaponry, holding them in your hands then kneeling as if to offer them back. You definitely did not want a god to be at odds with you. The two of you might have the same mother, but that didn’t mean you were equal in Aphrodite’s eyes. “I wasn’t-”

“Nah, don’t worry about it, sis.” He said, tapping your shoulder. Was he actually consoling you? “I shouldn’t have left it out in the open anyways.”

He pulled you up by the arm gently, snapping his fingers and getting the remnants of grass off of your knees. He even picked off a stray leaf from your hair. What in Tartarus was this?

For as long as you’ve known Eros and he’s practically coerced you into a dysfunctional sibling relationship, this was the kindest thing he’s ever done. Yes, the bar was low.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

“You didn’t use this on someone, did you?” Eros asked, cradling the quiver and bow against him like a child.

“I think I managed to hit Luke—”

“You didn’t!” He interrupted with a theatrical gasp, a hand covering his mouth. He was such a drama queen.

You narrowed your eyes. He planned this, didn't he?

He smirked wider when he noticed the change in your demeanor, the realization behind your gaze. You swore his pupils changed to hearts for a moment.

“Good luck with lover boy, little sis.” He turned around, showing you the back of his hand as he waved goodbye.

[de4dlyniightshade]

munch! spencer, reader with migraine, spencer reads something about how orgasms can help with pain

꩜ warning!: this post is +18!!! mdni!

꩜ word count: 1.6k (got a little carried away;-;)

꩜ A/N: honestly i don't rlly like this but hopefully it's good enough :,)

You let out a quiet groan in pain as you squinted your eyes at the tv, trying to watch your favourite show but the light from the screen only made your throbbing headache worse, to the point it was almost unbearable.

"Another migraine?" Spencer asked quietly from the other end of the sofa as he looked up from his book, keeping his voice low so as to not make it any worse. You just nodded, holding your head in your hand and letting your eyes close, feeling slight relief from the light no longer beaming into your eyes.

You didn't get migraines all that often but when you did they could be pretty bad and Spencer hated seeing you in pain and hated the fact that there was nothing he could do to fix it even more, or so he thought. He'd spent hours researching ways to alleviate your pain after your last migraine, which got so bad that it practically debilitated you and you couldn't do anything but sit in a darkened room for hours until it passed.

After reading countless articles and blogs a unanimous opinion was that an orgasm relieves a large amount of the pain, one woman going as far to say that hers was completely gone afterwards. Honestly the remedy was a complete win-win, he'd be able to help you and make you feel better and he'd also get to do his absolute favourite thing at the same time, which just so happened to be eating you out.

"Do you want me to help?" Spencer suggested, laying his book down on your coffee table and turning to face you, a slightly excited feeling bubbling in his chest.

"Remember nothing worked last time, Spence" you murmured, sighing at the realisation that you'd probably end up back in your bedroom, cocooned under blankets for your unforeseeable future. You felt Spencer shift closer to you and you could practically feel the excitement radiating from him, knowing that meant he'd found some scientific way to help you and wanted to try it.

"I researched a lot about migraines and how to help you since the last one and the method that came up almost every time was that a sexual release would alleviate a large amount of the pain and i was thinking maybe..." he didn't even have to finish his sentence for you to know what he was thinking, as soon as he uttered the word "sexual" you knew what he had in mind.

"You seriously think it'll work?" Your tone was hopeful and you were prepared to try anything at this point, feeling your pain slowly worsen the more time went on. you'd tried almost every other remedy you'd been suggested by friends and nothing had worked even a little and painkillers did nothing for you no matter how many you took.

"It's worth a try," Spencer smiled, resting his hand on your lower back. you knew he wasn't just doing this for himself, it was just convenient that he loved nothing more than to be buried between your legs.

"Alright, but if this doesn't work I'm not gonna be happy" you were only half serious, you were happy to let Spencer run his little experiment, considering that if it did work, you'd both not have a migraine anymore and would have had an incredible orgasm, so either way, you got something out of the experience.

You watched as Spencer moved to turn off the TV, leaving just a lamp on so that it was light enough that he could still see but dark enough that it wouldn't hurt your head so much.

You quickly hooked your fingers into the waistband of your underwear and pants, lifting your hips to tug them down over your ass and slide them down your legs, kicking them to the side to deal with later as Spencer moved to eagerly kneel in front of you, placing his hands behind your knees and leaning down to press a chaste kiss just above your left knee.

You smiled as you slowly spread your legs apart, watching Spencer's eyes glint with anticipation. You already knew the drill—moving to place your legs over his shoulders the way he liked it and shifting forward on the sofa to give him better access.

Spencer didn't waste any time with teasing, reminding himself that this wasn't for him, no matter how much he enjoyed it; this was an attempt to alleviate your pain.

You let out a sigh as you felt his warm tongue lick a bold stripe up your folds before he circled your clit, moaning quietly at your taste that he'd grown to love so much.

You tangled your fingers in his hair as he buried his face deeper into you, urging your thighs apart to lap at your pussy, your quiet whines and moans egging him on as he took your clit into his mouth, sucking and licking at your sensitive nub, the stimulation making you twitch and grip his hair tighter, rolling your hips into his face as you let your head fall back against the couch.

Spencer wrapped his hands around your thighs as he nuzzled his face into you, making sure to get as close as possible to you so that he could dip his tongue into your entrance. The feeling of his warm, wet tongue pushing into you causing you to arch your back, a loud gasp falling from your lips, your migraine long forgotten.

"F-fuck spence," you whined as you tugged on his hair desperately, letting yourself grind into his mouth. Spencer continued his ministrations on your sensitive cunt, drinking in everything you had to give him with pleasure as he whined into your wantonly.

You felt Spencer push one of your legs to the side, and instantly you got the message, lifting your leg to sling it over the arm of the couch to give him access. You couldn't help but gasp when you felt his middle and index fingers prod at your entrance, teasing your hole briefly before he began slowly sliding them in. The copious amount of saliva and your arousal making it easy.

"Oh, f-fuck!" you moaned out as you felt his fingertips curl right into your g-spot, the mixture of his mouth on your clit and his fingers pressing right into that spot that made your toes curl, making your mind go completely blank as you whimpered and moaned, his name falling from your lips in breathy gasps.

Spencer began massaging his fingers into your g-spot, drawing needy moans from your lips as he brought you closer to your release, revelling in the way you moaned his name and the way that your walls clenched around his fingers.

You got completely lost in the pleasure as you rutted your hips into his face, gripping his hair harshly and pushing his face into you. You felt the familiar knot in your stomach tighten as you squirmed and shuddered, the feeling of Spencer's fingers nonstop stimulating your sensitive spot making you a needy mess.

"C-close! 'm close, Spence." Your voice was high-pitched and whiny as you warned him, Spencer only pushing his fingers harder into you, the action pulling a loud moan from your throat as your body began to shake and tremble.

You couldn't help but sling your leg back over Spencer's shoulder, letting your thighs clench around his head as you felt your orgasm approaching. Spencer's tongue never letting up his brutal sucking and licking on your clit, sending shockwaves through your body.

Spencer began moaning and whining into you, the sounds sending vibrations through your sensitive cunt and making you cry out in pleasure as your breath came out in gasps and huffs, your whole body tending as you felt your release dangerously close.

"G-god spence, I'm gonna c-cum!" You practically wailed with no regard for how loud you were being, letting out a constant slew of desperate noises when Spencer massaged your soft spot more precisely, coaxing you to your release as he sucked harshly on your clit.

Spencer let out an especially loud moan as you tugged on his hair, the intense vibrations sending you over the edge as your mouth dropped open in a silent scream, your whole body shaking and writhing as your release gushed around Spencer's fingers that continued to curl into you, coaxing you through your orgasm while he gently licked at your clit.

You were breathing heavily and still shaking slightly when Spencer slowly pulled his fingers from your sopping cunt, wincing slightly as his skin dragged against your sensitive walls. You watched as he buried his fingers in his mouth, cleaning off your release like he always did, sighing at the taste before he pulled them out and leaned back in, dipping his tongue into your slit to lap up everything he could, not daring to waste any of it.

Spencer leaned his cheek on your knee when he was satisfied, looking up at you through his lashes as you lay completely fucked out with your eyes closed, a beautifully content expression on your face.

"How do you feel?" he asked quietly, watching as you cracked your eyes open and furrowed your brows, scanning around the room and sitting up slightly, a smile spreading across your lips as you looked back down at him.

"I feel...great?!" You laughed slightly, completely fascinated by the effectiveness but also relieved that you'd found something that worked, both for you and for him. Spencer couldn't hide the wide smile that adorned his lips. He was overjoyed that his method worked as he pressed gentle kisses up your leg before he situated himself beside you, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck and sighing.

"i'm glad" 

(dookie ass ending again ik</3 i need to work on that :,)

[weenwrites]

Hii, long time lurker here! I love the way you write everybody so in character and feel free to ignore this, but could I request headcannons of the Autobots with an adrenaline junkie reader (I.e.skateboarding down steep roads, parkour, etc) who is actually really calm and philosophical? Always thinking about the nature of life regardless of how big or small?platonic please

[ Please do not repost, plagiarize, or use my writing for AI! Translating my work with proper credit is acceptable, but please ask first! ]

✎A/N: Hehe thank you!! Since it's been a hot second since I've last written something, I'll do 5 characters instead of my usual 3.

Optimus

He's certainly no stranger to thrill-seekers, though when you're pitted against cybertronian standards, all your hobbies and activities seem rather tame. Still, he understands that humans can be very fragile—it's a baffling conundrum to him, that humans are capable of surviving the wildest scenarios yet can die because of the smallest things. He'll often drop you off at a skate park and he'll always remind you to take proper caution and wear protective gear.

In the rare moments of downtime that he gets, (or if you join him on his patrols which always take place at ungodly hours of the day) he could go on for hours and hours discussing cybertronian and human philosophy with you. The differences and similarities in the way that humans and cybertronians interpret life and its meaning are very intriguing to him, and naturally he enjoys learning. Eventually it's pretty clear how much he looks forward to having you with him on patrol through the way he begins to conveniently go on patrol at more reasonable hours of the day.

Ratchet

He's scolded you countless times when you used your skateboard to grind down the railing instead of walking down from the catwalk normally. And he's also talked your ear off about skateboarding around his feet while he walks around. It's not really for being distracting but rather out of concern that you might fall and hit your head, sprain a joint, possibly break a bone, or he might step on you.

Chances are that no matter what he tells you, you're still gonna do what you do. Well regardless, he'll tell you to wear a helmet, elbow pads, knee pads—it doesn't matter how skilled you are, accidents can happen to anyone because of factors out of their control—and hey, don't forget wrist guards. When you fall, you naturally put your hands beneath you to catch yourself, so your hands and wrists mainly take the brunt of the damage.

He's not quite one for philosophical discussions, but you're welcome to idly talk to him about it, and occasionally he'll either agree with whatever philosophy you're talking about, or critique it and point out how absurd he thinks it is.

Ultra Magnus

What do you expect? He's about as fun as a wet sock. Skateboarding in the base is prohibited. Doing "parkour" around the base is prohibited. Do not scale the side of the monitor. Do not jump off the catwalk onto any passing bot. The list goes on and on for each new creative stunt you come up with. And somehow he has an uncanny knack for guessing where you've hidden up on the suspension beams overhead in the base, yet it's just the fact he has sharp eyes. He'll drive you out to a skate park or any public space if it means you'll stop doing it around the base.

He's not all too philosophical. That is to say, he's never had the opportunity nor the inclination to look into it for himself. However, the more you talk to him about it, the more he realizes that differences between Humans and Cybertronians only run skin-deep.

Despite being hundreds of thousands of light years apart, both Human and Cybertronian culture share some remarkable similarities. Back on Cybertron, no one existed for 'no reason'. Everyone had a purpose, they were assigned a role the moment they woke up, but on Earth? You choose that for yourself. Yet doesn't that seem daunting? To have to find purpose yourself? He dislikes the lack of "order" in that regard. Hm.

Smokescreen

To put it simply, he thinks you're super cool. Smokescreen idolizes you next to Optimus—it's not that you're in second place... You're technically first place in terms of human idols, so, yeah you've got that! See? You're second to none!

He likes watching you skateboard, or parkour your way up onto the top of a building. He genuinely thinks your hobbies are awesome and it'd be hard to miss the way you rub off on him. He'll try to show off and pull stunts of his own in hopes you'd think he's also cool. While you're out skateboarding in the middle of an empty parking lot he'll join you and do some donuts and weave between street lights as fast as he can, and by the end of it you always catch the way he looks at you, expecting some sort of reaction to gauge whether he was cool or not.

And not only are your hobbies cool but, to him you're righteous! He always listens intently whenever you go on about the inherent value of any and all life or any philosophical topics that spark your interest, but does he truly understand even a smidgen of what you're saying? Ehhh, sort of, but honestly it mostly goes straight over his head (which is amazing given his height). He essentially parrots what you say because he thinks it'll set him a bit closer to being just like one of his idols, but he doesn't truly understand the deeper meaning of your words and ideas.

Arcee

Skateboarding down steep roads, scaling tall buildings with just your bare hands, biking along bumpy and rocky paths, even though she's seen her fair share of shenanigans and trouble with Cliffjumper, you're ironically quite the handful despite your size. Ah, just what will she do with you?

At this point you've no doubt convinced her to go ride down some of the rough and rugged paths out in the desert. It's pretty dangerous, sure, but she'd be lying if she said she didn't find the challenging terrain fun in the slightest. She's confident in her own ability to keep you safe and she trusts you, so all you need to do is grab a helmet and the two of you are off!

When you both kick back to relax and chat, philosophy was one of the last things she thought you'd be interested in, but hey, humans are always full of surprises. Every discussion you have with her about philosophy always delves deeper into the more personal parts of both your lives, or on lighter notes it gets to talking about the interesting cultural differences between Humans and Cybertronians. Either way, when things get too deep or depressing, she's always quick to suggest going out for a drive to clear your mind.

[symbiomancy]

PRIZE —ryōmen sukuna

—summary: You and Sukuna make a bet. He doesn't clarify what he wants if he wins. It's okay; you'll find out soon enough.

—cw: f!reader, stepcest, otherwise pretty tame today

—wc: 1,4k // also on ao3

“So, do you even do anything on the court or do you just stand there and look pretty?”

Sukuna turns to you, brows raised. The corner of his lips curls up in amusement. “Just because you don’t understand how the game works doesn���t mean I don’t do anything,” he counters, crossing his arms over his chest. The movement makes his biceps bulge and you allow your eyes to linger on them momentarily before you meet his gaze again.

“Prove your worth, then,” you shrug your shoulders once and tilt your body to the side to get a glimpse of the people doing their last warm-up exercises on the basketball court. “Earn a lot of points, be the MVP. Win, or do whatever it is you do.”

He eyes the way you’re leaned to the side and the way you pull yourself straight again and shift your attention away from his teammates, head tilted, now staring at him through your pretty lashes. He likes this angle. You’re not that much shorter than him, but this, this angle he likes, and finds himself wanting to place his hand on your jaw and tilt it up.

“Let’s make it a bet, then.”

You purse your lips, narrow your eyes.

“Alright,” you cede, tilting your head the other way. “If you suck out there, you make me a second bento for a week so I don’t have to grab something from the convenience store on the way to my language classes. And if you win—”

“When I win.”

You roll your eyes. “If you win… I don’t know, what do you want?”

“I can choose anything?”

“Yes, unless it brings me physical, psychological, emotional or reputational harm.”

Sukuna is quiet for a few moments, staring at you with a new intensity. It sends a shiver down your spine and you take a quick breath in to dispel the jitter in your veins. Then, he holds out his hand.

“Deal.” He grins, broad and charming when you accept and shake on the deal. He motions to the overhead level where a crowd has gathered — mostly girls, probably from all years if you had to venture a guess — his other hand between your shoulder blades, pushing you towards the stairs. “Enjoy the show.”

To his credit, he’s good. It takes a while for the game to get going, but when it does, he’s fast, almost graceful in the way he dodges around the other team’s players to make his way to the net. He stops, sneakers squeaking against the vinyl, and throws the ball. It’s a clean shot. His teammates pat him on the back and the girls around you cheer.

Your eyes meet and Sukuna stops, turns his body towards you, and does a small, almost mocking bow. The crowd around you explodes in a cacophony of screaming and you place your hands over your ears.

He sure is popular.

The games pass in a blur. Sukuna keeps up easily, netting point after point after point. Each time, the cheers of your peers threaten to deafen you. Then, the last game is called, the teams shake hands and everything winds down. People still linger when the teams are stretching and cleaning up. You even spot a few volunteering themselves for help.

Sukuna doesn’t say anything about the bet when you meet up after he’s showered and dressed and parted with his teammates. You congratulate him and he beams like you’ve never seen before, eyes bright and hair slicked back, curling at the ends. He doesn’t bring your bet up even at the dinner table or when you’re all winding down in the living room, everyone piled onto the couch and the armchairs. Your parents congratulate him on a successful match and his smile returns full force, launching into a play-by-play for everyone that wasn’t present. You almost think he’s forgotten about your bet by the time the lights are all out in the house.

Until there’s a knock on your bedroom door as you’re getting ready for bed. The clock on your laptop screen stares at you. Just minutes from midnight. You unlock your door and crack it open just enough to see Sukuna on the other side, leaning against the doorway with his hands in his sweats’ pockets. The outline of his cock is obvious against the fabric and you let your eyes linger on it for the fraction of a second before you raise them to meet his. You almost, almost get distracted by his lack of shirt. He notices.

“I figured out what I wanted,” he announces with an easy grin.

“Right now?” You glance at the clock again, then back to him. Sukuna nods. You pull your door open just enough for him to slip in. “Need I remind you the clause about physical, psychological—”

“Emotional and reputational harm. I got it; I took ‘em all into account.” He wanders a few steps deeper into your room as the lock on your bedroom door triggers and picks up the cat-shaped nightlight on your dresser. He smacks it once. It turns purple. He smacks it again and the light changes to warm white.

“So?” You cross your arms over your chest, suddenly rethinking your nearly non-existent sleeping attire. Summer is warm and stuffy; there’s no point in sweating through the night when you can keep your clothing to a minimum and the window cracked open. Cheeky shorts and a thin, cropped shirt help ward off the usual heat. Now there’s a different type of heat simmering under your skin.

“I want a kiss,” he says, placing the nightlight back onto the dresser. “A nice, proper kiss.”

“Why?” You shrug your shoulders when he gives you an incredulous look. “No, I mean like— you had so many girls practically throwing themselves at you during and after the game-meet-thingy; you could get a kiss from anyone.”

“Yeah, I could.” He closes what little distance separates you and hooks his knuckles under your chin. His other hand rests on your hip, draws lazy circles into the flesh. It sends a jolt down your spine, like livewire in your veins. “But I want it from you.” His breath fans your lips. Heat rushes to your face.

You shouldn’t be doing this, shouldn’t ruin your parents’ relationship with something so messy, something like this, something that’ll only blow up in your faces down the line. But he’s all-encompassing, taking up your whole vision, everywhere is him and only him, his eyes glued to your lips.

Sukuna closes the gap. His mouth is slow on yours, his lips warm, slightly chapped. You really shouldn’t—

His hands skirt under your sleeping shirt, and travel up your torso, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Thumbs graze your nipples and you arch into his chest, gasp into his mouth. He swallows the sound, eager and hungry. His tongue slips into your mouth. The heat bubbling under your skin spreads through your body, has your pulse living in your throat. Your hands rest on his shoulders, nails digging into the flesh. He grunts against your mouth, digs his teeth into your bottom lip and suddenly you’re lightheaded, his hands anchoring you to place, keeping you from floating off into space. His chest is pressed to yours, large warm hands on your ribs and then down, down, until one rests on the small of your back and he pulls you into him, hip to hip. His cock is stiff against your thigh.

You’re the first one to pull away, hands firmly on his shoulders when you nudge him backwards. Sukuna’s cheeks are flushed in the faint light of your cat-shaped nightlight, lips glossy, eyes half-lidded, breath loud in the confines of your bedroom, hands still on your body.

You inhale slowly but it does little to knock some breath back into your lungs. Your chest is heaving — so is his — and yet you step aside, unlock your bedroom door and pull it ajar. He slips out just as easily as he’d slipped in, his touch lingering as he takes his escape.

When you hear his bedroom door open, you lean into the hallway, calling out his name in a whisper. He looks over, hand on the doorknob, eyes wide like a deer in headlights. “If… if you want to keep… this,” you motion between him and yourself, “going, get some chapstick, dude.”

You close the door and lock it.

banners by @/cafekitsune.

[mountainficss]

Any thoughts on stalker! Jeonghan? Idk if you do dark concepts , so it's on u ☺

!! mentions of: stalking, masturbation, sending sexual photos

hi, anon! and ooo i’ve never gotten a dark concept before, but i would love to try. thank you so much for sending me one!

stalker!jeonghan who you’d meet through a mutual friend, finding his long hair and smug expressions incredibly charming. he’d seem like an individual that exuded confidence, and he’d do well in playing the part when he first met you. you’d enjoy being around him, and he’d entertain you throughout the night. it seemed like there was never a dull moment with jeonghan, and you were starting to take an interest in him.

and of course, jeonghan would take an interest in you too :) he’d ask the mutual friend for all your socials, adding and following you on every platform you had an account for. thinking nothing of it, you’d follow and add him back on everything, smiling to yourself knowing the pretty boy went out of his way to find your socials. but of course it wouldn’t stop there.

jeonghan would go through all of your posts in his free time, studying all of your photos and videos. he’d look at posts dated back to as long as a few years ago, and would also stare at the stories you’d post on each platform. he’d even like them occasionally, and you’d sometimes get notifications of jeonghan liking your old posts. you’d snicker at his social media stalking, but little do you know he isn’t stopping there.

jeonghan would begin checking your location often, since you openly shared it with all followers and friends on your accounts. he’d check every time you’d cross his mind (which was often), and he’d constantly find himself missing you. so since he missed you so much, how great would it be for him to see you in person?

he’d watch you from afar at first, finding your exact whereabouts from your public location. he’d keep his distance, but he’d be so entranced watching you in public. whether you were chatting with your friends at a restaurant, plucking clothing items off the racks at the mall, or ordering your favorite drink at your favorite coffee place (an iced caramel macchiato with light caramel drizzle…interesting), he’d be watching. he’d think you’re too cute doing regular daily tasks.

after a while though, he’d grow tired of watching you from a distance. he wanted to be close to you. so naturally, that’s what jeonghan would do! he’d find any possible excuses to run into you in public. he’d casually pass by your table when you’re eating out with your friends, telling you that he just finished dinner with his. you’d be delighted to see him, finding it refreshing to see a familiar pretty face. he’d act surprised when he finds you in the same store as him, telling you that he’s just browsing and passing you a shirt he knows you’d like. and of course you don’t like it, you love it, just as jeonghan knew you would. he knows your taste. he’d even find you doing your daily coffee shop stop, already standing in line as you walk in. you’d greet him with a huge grin, completely unaware of how many coincidental meetings you’ve had with jeonghan this week. you can’t complain though; he’s too likable to not enjoy seeing him all the time. he’d even offer to pay for your drink!

he’d order for the both of you, getting your order exact without you even having to tell him. you’d stare at him with shock, mouth slightly agape as he hands you your drink with a smile. “how did you know i like a light drizzle on my caramel macchiato?” you’d question, astonished by his accuracy. “was a lucky guess,” he’d respond, trying to bite back his smug grin. “you seem like the type.” you’d just beam at him and he’d swoon internally, tilting his cup to his lips to hide his impish smirk.

and he wouldn’t stop at public places either. he’d even find your address, stopping by every once and a while to peek through your windows. you conveniently leave all your blinds open and curtains pulled back, so he took it as a sign. he’d mean no harm of course, he just wanted to see you more! your presence was so addicting, and he just wouldn’t be able to help himself. he was just harmlessly studying you in your natural state, that’s all! he wouldn’t be able to look away when he sees you undressing in the comfort of your room, wouldn’t even want to blink when he sees your hands traveling over your nude form. he’d witness you plop down onto your plush mattress and spread your legs, trailing a hand down to touch yourself while the other traces up and down your skin. you’d look so pretty to him, so desperate as you play with yourself, and he couldn’t stop himself from snaking a hand down his pants. he’d offer himself the bare minimum of pleasure, mostly caught up in the way you pleased yourself. he wanted to know everything. what turned you on, what made you squirm, what made you make all those pretty faces. he’d study every movement of your fingers from outside your window, convincing himself that he can do it better. he can fuck you better, can make you cum harder than any of your fingers stuffed inside you could. he’d palm himself harder, getting worked up at the sight of you nestled so tranquilly in your bedroom and trying your hardest to make yourself cum. everything about you was so gentle, so perfect, and jeonghan had to see it closer. he had to have you to himself. he’d fish out his phone from his pocket with his free hand, still palming himself as he shoots you a text.

jeonghan: hey 👋 what are you up to rn? <3

he’d watch you through the glass, noticing your hands stop their movements as you heard your phone ping. you’d grab for it with a free hand, resuming your lewd actions with your occupied hand. he’d take in your expression when you read who texted you, and he swore he could see your face become redder.

you: hi jeonghan! not much right now :)

you’d stuff two fingers deeper inside of your hole, eyes rolling back a bit as you hit a spot that seemed to set you off. jeonghan could feel sweat beading at his hairline, and he’d answer as fast as he could with one free hand.

jeonghan: i feel like you’re lying hehe. you busy?

you: fineee. i am kind of busy 👀

jeonghan would laugh breathily at the message, his head slightly lolling to the side as he stroked himself a few times.

jeonghan: oh yeah? doing what, might i ask?

you: it’s a bit personalll…don’t know if you’d wanna know ;(

jeonghan would tug his bottom lip between his teeth, glancing through your window again to see a fucked-out you, hair tousled and splayed over your pillows.

jeonghan: i always wanna know ;)

instead of a response, you’d reluctantly pull your fingers from your heat, spreading the soaked digits and snapping a picture. jeonghan wouldn’t even notice the action from being too consumed in the texts, and he’d be met with an image of your glistening fingers coated with your arousal. his breath would hitch, letting out a quiet groan as he stares at the photo.

you: too much? :(

you: i’m so sorry, forget i sent it k?

jeonghan: please let me come over. i can make you feel so much better i swear

he wouldn’t receive a response for a little, peering into your bedroom and waiting for you to type an answer.

you: yes please :(

as soon as you give him the green light, he’s turning off his phone and yanking his hand from underneath his pants, practically speed walking to your front door. he doesn’t care how suspicious it makes him look that he’s here minutes after you answer him, knocking three times at your door and eagerly waiting. you’d swing open your front door timidly, having thrown on an oversized t-shirt before you answered the door. your face would be flushed and pouty as you stare up at him hungrily. “h-how’d you know where to go?” you’d gaze at him distractedly, lips slightly parted. “saw your location. you’re sharing it with your friends,” he’d respond automatically, taking in your disheveled state up close and attempting not to cum in his boxers at the sight. “you—you were so fast,” you’d mumble absently, pupils dilating in lust as you notice the bulge in his sweats. “just happened to be in the neighborhood,” he’d flirt shamelessly, smirking as you let him inside.

you’d be too oblivious to ever question any of jeonghan’s “coincidences,” and you couldn’t seem to care when he pleasured you so well <3

taglist: @jeonghanpill , @bangantokchy , @caratboy , @bewoyewo , @luvseungcheol , @wonvsmile , @haolovre , @aaniag , @writingbarnes , @dokyeomkyeom , @allieyaaa

[adoriels-tears-if]

Adoriel's Tears Q&A (1th meeting)

The soft afternoon light spills into Elianna’s study, lending a calm warmth to the room that contrasts sharply with the tense atmosphere. Ashlyen sits by the window, gazing out as though trying to avoid the others. Tobias leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed tightly, his expression unreadable but far from welcoming. Elianna adjusts her seat, her hands fidgeting in her lap, and her eyes dart to Ashlyen before quickly looking away.

Cecily bursts in, parchment in hand and a determined smile lighting up her face. “Alright, everyone’s here! That’s great!” She stops near the table and sets her notes down with a flourish. “Today, I have the honor of asking all the questions our readers sent in. So, sit back, relax, and get ready for anything!”

Tobias snorts. “Ready for anything. Sure.”

Ashlyen glances at Cecily, one eyebrow raised. “Let’s hope these readers asked questions worth answering.”

“I’m sure Cecily will make it worth our while,” Elianna says, her voice soft but steady as she offers the young woman an encouraging smile.

Cecily beams at her. “Thanks, Elianna! I’ll do my best.” She straightens her parchment and clears her throat. “The first question is for Ashlyen.” Her eyes skim the page, and she hesitates. “Oh… it’s, um, a tough one.”

Ashlyen frowns and tilts his head. “Why? What does it say?”

Instead of answering, Cecily holds out the parchment. Ashlyen hesitates, then takes it from her hands. His expression darkens as he reads silently, though he quickly masks it. “How does it feel to know your child will grow up without their father? Do you think of them every day? Are you afraid they’ll grow up resenting your absence?” His voice remains steady, but there’s a strain in it that betrays his calm.

He places the parchment back on the table, folding his hands together. “It’s not an easy question to answer,” he says, after a moment of silence. “Every day, I think about them. Their face, their voice, their laugh—things I’ve missed and things I’ll never get to see, to remember. It’s not just a fleeting thought! It stays with me, no matter where I go!” His gaze shifts to the window, his jaw tightening. “I chose to leave because I knew it was the only way to protect them. I still believe that. But…” He exhales slowly eyes closed. “Yes. I’m afraid. I’m afraid that when they grow up, all they’ll see is the absence and none of the reasons behind it. If they resent me for it, I’ll bear that, as long as it means they’re safe.”

The room falls silent. Cecily fidgets with the corner of her parchment, unsure how to fill the heavy pause. Tobias pushes off the doorframe, his voice cutting through the quiet.

“Safe? That’s a convenient excuse.”

Ashlyen’s gaze snaps to him. “You think I wanted this?”

“Maybe not,” Tobias says, shrugging, “but it doesn’t change what it is.”

Elianna raises her hand, her tone sharp. “That’s enough. Both of you.” Her words slice through the tension like a blade. “This is an interview, not a battlefield.”

She looks at Cecily. “Next question, please.”

Cecily clears her throat and flips to the next page. “Right! Let’s keep things moving!”

She flips through her parchment and looks up, eyes sparkling with mischief. “All right, here's an interesting one,” she says, a teasing smile on her face. “So, who started calling MC 'Little Star' first?”

Elianna smiled softly, glancing at Ashlyen. “I think you did, didn't you?”

Ashlyen shifts in his seat, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. “Maybe,” he admits, avoiding the young woman's gaze.

Elianna leans forward slightly, her voice teasing but warm. “Oh, come on, you can say it. You gave them that nickname, didn't you? ”

Ashlyen exhales, his gaze drifting to the window as if searching for the right words. “It wasn't just a nickname,” he finally says, in a calmer voice, ”It was a way of honoring their Elven heritage. In our language, stars carry meaning: they guide us, give us hope, and remind us of where we come from. I wanted them to have a connection to that, even if they would never understand it... completely.”

Elianna's expression softens, and for a moment she looks at Ashlyen with infinite tenderness. “It's beautiful,” she says softly. “And it suits them perfectly.

Tobias rolls his eyes, clearly enjoying the moment. “Honestly, I’m more curious about whether MC will find out that Ash keeps forgetting everything about them,” he says with a sharp edge to his voice.

Elianna turns toward Tobias, then back to Ashlyen. “Do you think they’ll ever find out?” she asks.

Ashlyen swallows, his expression briefly showing signs of discomfort. “I hope they never find out,” he says, voice low. “The fact that I forget them every half hour... it’s not something I want them to ever know. It’s less a choice, and more a necessity, but... I’d rather they stay in the dark. It’s safer for them, for everyone.”

Elianna shares a long, silent look with Ashlyen, but doesn’t speak. Tobias shrugs and glances toward the door.

“It might be better this way. Anyway, MC stayed the night at Telio and Mickhail’s to avoid seeing you. It’s... less painful this way.”

The room goes quiet, the words hanging in the air. Ashlyen stares down at the table, avoiding the others’ gazes. “It was… necessary,” he murmurs, almost to himself.

“I think we can move on to the next question,” grumbles Tobias.

Cecily glances at her list, her eyebrows shooting up as she reads the next question. “Ooh, this one’s about you, Uncle Tobias!” she says with a smirk. "How would you react if you found out Arthur had a crush on MC?"

Tobias blinks, before cracking into an awkward laugh. “Arthur? A crush? On MC?” He rubs the back of his neck, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “I mean, it’s… surprising, but not the worst thing in the world, I guess. I mean ! He’s ten. A bit young for that, don’t you think?"

Elianna chuckles softly, leaning her chin on her hand. “Come on, Tobias. Kids his age have crushes all the time. You can’t deny it’s possible. Plus Mc is really easy to like."

Tobias shrugs. "Of course they are! I was so excited for Arthur to meet them! He’s been asking a lot of questions about MC ever since I mentioned them. If he does have a crush, it just means he sees how great they are too.” His tone softens slightly, the affection for both Arthur and MC clear.

Cecily beams. “Aw, that’s sweet! But what if Arthur didn’t like MC? Maybe because… of...you know.”

Tobias’s expression hardens slightly, though not out of anger. “Arthur’s not like that,” he says firmly. “He’s a good kid, and I trust him. If something like that came up, I’d talk to him. Make him understand how wrong it is to judge someone by the blood running through their veins. But honestly…” He pauses, his voice softening again. “I can’t see him disliking MC. He’s been curious about them ever since I told him about Northview. I think he’s more excited to spend time with them than anything else.”

Ashlyen, who had been quietly observing, tilts his head. “Interesting. You’re remarkably sure of this boy’s character. A bold thing, considering his age, that you pointed out earlier.”

Tobias gives him a sharp look but doesn’t rise to the bait. “Arthur’s got a good heart. I wouldn’t have brought him to Northview otherwise.”

Elianna smiles gently, her gaze flickering between Tobias and Ashlyen. “It’s good that Arthur has you looking out for him. And that MC has someone like you too.”

Tobias grumbles something under his breath, though the warmth in his expression lingers as he shifts his focus back to Cecily. “Next question?”

Cecily lets out a chuckle. She adjusts her seat, her quill lightly tapping the parchment as she pushes a lock of hair back behind her ear. “Okay, this one's a bit of a time-dive. The reader wants to know: How long was Ash in the picture with ‘preggo’ Elianna? Did he watch the birth of his child? If not, did he want to? And lastly, what were Elianna’s cravings, and how did everyone handle her mood swings?”

Tobias snorts at the word “preggo,” earning a quick glare from Cecily.

Ashlyen sits up straighter, his expression unreadable. “I wasn’t there,” he says curtly.

Elianna hesitates, her hands tightening around the fabric of her red dress. “Ash… wasn’t part of my pregnancy,” she says, her voice measured. “He couldn’t be. Not with...the risks.”

Ashlyen’s jaw tightens, but he nods. “It wasn’t a choice I made lightly. But staying would have put you—and them—in danger. You know that."

Elianna looks at him, pain and sorrow in her face, then nods. “I do. And I don’t blame you for it. But…” Her voice softens. “It was hard.”

Cecily nods and gives her a supportive smile before turning to Ashlyen. “Did you want to be there for the birth?”

��Of course I did!” Ashlyen says, his voice low but firm. “Every day I wasn’t there, I wanted to be. It's a feeling that persists to this day. . And when I heard it was difficult…” His voice trails off, and he looks down, visibly struggling with the memory.

Tobias clears his throat. "It was difficult," he says bluntly. "Cecily and I handled it." He adds, smug. "She’s the one who brought MC into the world, not without a lot of effort. And Elia..." He stops, glancing at her with raw softness. "You were stronger than anyone had a right to be."

Elianna smiles faintly "Thanks, Toby."

Cecily jumps in, eager to lighten the mood. “Well, as for cravings, Elianna had a thing for sweet things. Honeyed bread, candied nuts, even raw sugar sometimes. We had to ration it so she wouldn’t run us out of supplies!”

Elianna laughs softly, some of the tension easing from her frame. “I blame the baby. They had quite the sweet tooth even then. Elianna chuckles softly, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “Oh, Tobias once came back with an entire jar of honey because I couldn’t stop talking about it.”

Tobias groans, shaking his head. “You mean the three jars. And you finished them in a week!”

Cecily laughs. “And what about the mood swings? How did everyone deal with those?”

Tobias raises an eyebrow. “Carefully.”

Elianna narrows her eyes at both of them. “I wasn’t that bad!”

"You were!"

“Elianna was an angel 90% of the time. But that other 10%? You did not want to be the one to give her bad news.”

Elianna raises an eyebrow at him. “You survived, didn’t you?”

“Barely,” Tobias teases, and the room erupts in soft laughter.

Cecily claps her hands. “Alright, that was a great answer from everyone! Next question!” She leans forward, clearly intrigued by the next question. “Alright, Tobias, this one’s for you. Have you ever indulged in the fantasy of MC being your pupil? Of them being a Tear, and the both of you traveling the world together—even if that could never happen?”

Tobias tilts his head back against the doorframe, letting out a low chuckle. “Fantasy, huh? That’s putting it lightly.”

Cecily’s pen pauses. “So… you have?”

He shrugs, crossing his arms. “Of course I have. It’s hard not to, sometimes. MC has… potential. A spark, They have something! And I’ve wondered what it would’ve been like to guide that spark, to show them the world beyond Northview.” His voice softens slightly. “To see them grow, to face challenges together as a team.”

Elianna shifts in her seat, her expression unreadable. “You’ve never mentioned this before.”

Tobias glances at her, a faint sad smirk tugging at his lips. “Because it’s just that—a fantasy. I know their path isn’t mine to guide. They have their own journey to follow, and I’d never try to take that away from them.”

Ashlyen, who has been quietly listening, finally speaks. “You wouldn’t want to be their teacher. Not really.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”

Ashlyen meets his gaze evenly. “Because deep down, you know they already look up to you—not as a teacher, but as family, as...as a father. And that’s a far greater bond.” he swallows.

For a moment, Tobias doesn’t reply, his usual sharp demeanor toward Ashlyen softening.

“Maybe you’re right,” he admits quietly.

The exchange makes Elianna's head drop. Cecily hastens to seize her hand as she sees the young woman's eyes begin to glisten.

“Let's move on to the next question,” says Ashlyen, clearing his throat.

Cecily glances at the next question and hesitates, her gaze flickering toward Ashlyen. “This one’s… sensitive. But I think it’s worth asking.” She takes a steadying breath. “Ashlyen, out of all the biggest milestones that come with raising a child, which do you wish you had been there for the most?”

Ashlyen’s usual stoicism falters, and he leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees. His gaze drifts to the floor, his voice quieter than usual. “All of them. Every single one.”

Elianna’s expression softens, and she looks away, her hands clasping tightly in her lap.

Ashlyen continues, his tone heavy. “If I had to choose…” He pauses, searching for the right words. “Their first steps, definitely. Seeing them walk for the first time—watching them move forward, maybe run even just a little, and knowing it’s the beginning of so much more. I’ve imagined it a thousand times, but it’s never the same as being there.”

Tobias, leaning against the doorframe, shifts uncomfortably but doesn’t interrupt.

Cecily’s pen stills for a moment as she studies Ashlyen. “Do you think you’ll ever get to be there for other milestones?”

Ashlyen meets her gaze, his eyes shadowed but resolute. “I hope so. More than anything. But hope doesn’t change the past.”

Elianna finally speaks, her voice soft. “It doesn’t. But it can shape the future, Ash.”

The elf glances at her, a flicker of something unspoken passing between them.

Cecily clears her throat, sensing the tension. “Well… thank you for answering so honestly.” She offers him a small, encouraging smile. “I think the readers will appreciate that.”

Ashlyen nods slightly, retreating into silence once more.

Cecily watches the silence settle over the room like a thick fog. Ashlyen's gaze is fixed on the table, his hand resting on the edge, tense and motionless. Even Tobias, who is usually eager to have the last word, remains silent, leaning back against the doorframe, looking somber.

Elianna studies Ashlyen intently, her features softening as she perceives the slight tremor in his hand. She sighs, a mixture of sadness and determination crossing her face.

“I think we all need a moment,” she says softly, breaking the silence.

Tobias raises an eyebrow but doesn't argue. He exhales sharply, mumbles something under his breath, and shifts position. Elianna rises slowly, her chair gently scraping the floor. Cecily's pen pauses mid-word as she watches the young woman circle the table.

Ashlyen doesn't look up, his shoulders rigid, his head down. Elianna stops beside him, close enough for her scent to reach him.

“Ash,” she whispers, in a tender yet firm voice.

He looks up, hesitant to meet her gaze. The reserved expression he wears so well fades and, for a moment, Cecily thinks he looks completely lost. It's a difficult vision, one that presses on her heart.

Elianna kneels beside him and grabs his hand from the table. She interlaces her fingers in his, the contact both grounding and comforting. “I know how much this weighs on you,” she says, her thumb grazing his knuckles in a soothing rhythm.

His jaw tightens, but his fingers wrap around hers instinctively. “It's not enough,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should have been there, for you, for them.”

Elianna leans closer to him, her other hand rising to touch his cheek. He flinches slightly at first, but she holds on, her palm warm against his skin. His breath catches and he closes his eyes and leans deeper against her. “I wanted to be there,” he admits, his words heavy with unspoken pain.

“I know,” she replies, her voice poised but charged with emotion. “And so will they, one day. They'll understand, Ash. Because I'll make sure they know the truth - that their father loved them enough to protect them, even from afar.”

Ashlyen's hand tightens around his, his head dipping forward until their foreheads almost touch. “Elianna,” he breathes, his name a mixture of reverence and regret.

“You always did what you thought was best,” she continued, her fingers threading through his dark hair. “And I don't blame you for that. I've never blamed you. Not then, not now. We agreed.”

Ashlyen's shoulders shake slightly, and for the first time, Cecily sees tears shining in his eyes. The elf who had always seemed untouchable, inflexible, seems fragile and human in Elianna's hands.

Near the door, Tobias shifts uncomfortably, the tenderness of the moment seeming too intimate for him to witness. “If we take a break, I'll come out,” he murmurs, rising quickly to his feet.

Elianna glances at him but says nothing, her attention returning to Ashlyen.

Cecily clears her throat gently and offers a small smile. “I'll give you some privacy. Let me know when you're ready to continue.” She gathers her notes and follows Tobias, leaving the room to the two of them.

As the door closes, Elianna runs her thumb over Ashlyen's cheek, catching a tear. “You don't have to be strong all the time,” she murmurs. “Especially not when you're with me.”

Ashlyen lets out a shaky breath, his hand holding her like a lifeline. “I'm sorry,” he murmurs.

“For what?” she asks softly.

“For everything,” he replies.

Elianna leans forward and places a tender kiss on his lips. “I'm not Ash. Just let me be there for you."

[simmervlogs]

Casa Sereno

Hello Simmers, here are the keys to Casa Sereno, a 3 bedroom contemporary Mediterranean home in Del Sol Valley. The idea was to build my Simself's dream home which is inspired by Melbournian architecture as well.

This property is not your typical architecture- it has a combination of modern and Mediterranean features. Arched windows and doorways, beamed and vaulted ceilings, original fountains , enclosed courtyard and arcaded porches contribute to an atmosphere of warm elegance and exceptional comfort. The front door opens into a majestic foyer with ornate vaulted and painted ceilings. Off the foyer and two steps down is the living room, a stately entertaining space with vaulted ceilings, a huge fireplace, enormous arched windows, wood plank floors, and modern glass door to a garden patio. Adjacent to the living roomis a hallway equipped with linen cupboardsleading you to the rooms. Awash with natural light and hidden behind the arches, resides the main ensuite, with a spacious walk-in and primary bathroom. Down the hallway includes an inviting ensuite for guests. The office space includes two desks and plenty of room to store your old gym equipment.

Off the entrance, invites you to the luxe kitchen coveted in rich wood and marble accents. The pantry is spacious and equipped with state of the art appliances. Hidden off the pantry is a connecting door to the garage for ease of access and a powder room for guests to use.

This property is heavily influenced by Australia's "bringing the outdoors in" architecture. The "backyard" includes a luxurious heated pool as well as a hot tub. Off the indoor kitchen, the outdoor patio remains open to overlook the city skyline. Equipped with a firepit, BQQ appliances and a rich wooden dining table, this space allows you to fully relax and bask in nature while enjoy the comforts of this home.

Please note almost everything is CC and the items were not created by me! Please do support and directly download from all the creators mentioned! I have attached the CC folders convenience ONLY.

Laundry Day required for washing machine and dryer to function.

Let's get fit Mod included (please remove if you already have it)

Do check out my Tiktok, live almost everyday building!

INSTRUCTIONS

Please directly move all the files in CC zip folder to your Mods folder.

Please move  Tray files (Tray files folder) to your Tray folder (enable bb.moveobjects on).

Gallery ID-  SimmerVlogs (Enable CC)

TikTok- simmervlogs

Note-  I have placed this down in Del Sol Valley (50x40 lot)

Thank you once again to all CC creators!

DOWNLOAD (Patreon)

[ricciardo133]

Miami 2023

maxiel, Max in a bikini, light frotting

-

Max walks from the hotel hallway into the dark suite. He flips on the lights to see an inexplicable hot tub. There, just a few yards from the California king in the upscale room, is a marble jacuzzi.

It seems elegant but out of place, plopped in the otherwise normal room like someone was drunkenly designing in The Sims. The entire hotel is quite elegant, but Max wasn't expecting his solo suite to be this fancy.

He looks over his key card's paper pouch while dislodging his phone from his jean pockets. After confirming with his team that, no it was not a mistake and yes this was the only room the hotel had left, he hangs up and stares at the jacuzzi like he would a strange wild animal. He then calls Daniel.

"Mate, do you have a hot tub in your room?"

"What? Like the bathtub with jets?" Daniel asks back, his mirthful tone intrigued.

"No, like a fucking pool hot tub by the bed."

"Holy shit. You got a honeymoon suite? Complete with rose petals and champagne?"

"Sadly just coffee packets and little soaps." Daniel laughs that charming honk that always makes Max smile reflexively.

"I'm sure they can bring some in for ya. Aw, you're a lucky man, Verstappen. Sounds divine. Far cry from our little shared teammate suites back in the day, right?"

Max's smile falls. He bites his lip, thinking of the gentle touches, the hushed friction from back then. Furtive handjobs in darkened rooms, twisted sheets and nervous assurances it was only out of convenience. Daniel's lips around Max's length, then switching spots and swearing that whatever happened in that pocket of time didn't mean anything after. Always 'just for now' and nothing more. Just for now, never, despite Max's silent yearning, bleeding out from the hotel rooms' private universes to something more.

"Hotels are more boring without a roommate," Max says. They haven't done it in so long, but now that Daniel's back with the team? Max snuffs the thought. "Well, it's weird but fine. We won't be at the hotel much anyway."

"Hey, well, enjoy it while you can. A little pre-race soak sounds hella choice."

"I don't have a bathing suit."

"Max, it's in your room. You can use it naked."

Max flushes. "I guess."

"I can bring you a suit, if you reallly want? I'm actually out on the town right now."

"Uh, sure. And one for you. You can use it, too."

"I always pack one, Maxy. Don't have to get ready if you stay ready. What kind you want? Trunks? Speedo?"

Max laughs. "Surprise me," he says. He glances at the tub, picturing Daniel's lean frame in there with him, legs brushing like ice baths back then or past soft contact in hotel showers, knees on wet tub floors. He shivers. "Whatever you want. You know...just for now," he adds, as if the underlining, wordless current of want would somehow be beamed telepathically from iPhone to iPhone.

Daniel doesn't say anything for a moment. "Max, I..." He takes a sharp breath. "Do you remember Spa 2018? When that chick threw a bra on the fan stage?"

Max smiles but then freezes when he remembers getting back to their shared suite that night. That Daniel kept it, cheeks as red as the laced bralette as he handed it to Max to try on, both of them still slick with sweat after qualifying, thighs slipping against one another, Danie's damp hands on Max's cupped breasts.

"Yes, I remember."

"Just for now, right?" Daniel asks, in that soft tone he hardly uses with anyone else.

"Just for now."

"Okay, I'll bring two options."

He hangs up. Max stares at the cold marble and feels heat well in his belly. He lets a nervy breath go and unpacks just to do something to get his mind off the defrosting longing.

He still feels lost in snippets of horny memories as someone raps a little staccato melody on the door. Max darts over, opens it, and resists unspooling immediately.

"Damn," Daniel says as he eyes the hot tub. Max watches his friend stroll into the suite as he looks over the room. He's still in the team kit from some media event he must have been at downtown. Max feels undone seeing him in that shade of blue again. "A nice touch. Floridian elegance," Daniel says.

"I should start the water."

"I'll do it. Here," Daniel says, tossing a bunched up shopping bag into Max's arms. "Whichever you want, okay?"

Max looks into Daniel's big brown eyes and nods. His mind is a cat pawing Daniel's words like a ball of yarn as he slips into the bathroom to change.

The first thing he pulls out is a classic pair of swim trunks covered in little palm trees. He sets them aside, opens the bag further, and peers down at the other two red items at the bottom. He swallows. That throbbing, electric current ups in kilowatts in his heart, thinking that Daniel missed it, too. He wants it again, too. It's a simple mantra he repeats mentally on loop as he shuffles off his jeans and shirt. He puts on the bikini and assesses his reflection.

He wishes he had shaved. He looks from the smattering of facial hair around his full lips and soft cheeks down to his tense, strong neck and further down past his collarbones to his two pecs. His hand-full breasts are held in place by the scarlet triangles of silky fabric, edged with a slight lace design. He adjusts the thin bikini straps over his shoulders, feeling flustered at how defined and full his tits look. They lightly bounce as he lets the straps go, soft flesh jiggling and making his head spin. His hands slip down along his waist, pulling the bikini bottom out and then letting it similarly snap back into his plush love handles that slightly swell over the fabric.

Fuck, he thinks. He wraps himself in a hotel towel. His body is torn between being wildly self-conscious and uncontrollably horny. The latter wins out. Daniel picked this for him. He wants to see Max in this. Max feels whirled again in old, familiar, hot need. He leaves the bathroom.

Daniel has also changed into his own swim trunks, his torso bare as Max takes in the sight of old tattoos he hasn't seen in years. Daniel, thankfully, also seems a bit wound up. He looks up, one hand under the running water and the other clenched around the marble lip of the tub.

"Max," he says.

"Daniel."

"Whatever you want, y'know."

"And for you, too, of course."

"I want this." Daniel stands up, turning off the water. The room is suddenly thrown into a wild silence. "For now."

"For now," Max nods and lets the towel drop off his body.

The hotel air is cold but soon Daniel's warm hands are on him, tracing gentle lines up his arms.

"Holy shit," he breathes. He leans in. Max's hands mirror his lines, running up Daniel's arms, palms resting on ink. "Max, God. You look so good."

"Daniel."

Daniel squeezes Max's shoulders, fingers skating in to dip under the straps of the bikini like Max did just moments ago. "Tell me if it's too much."

"It's not enough."

"Jesus Christ, Max," Daniel says, hands moving back to press down into Max's shoulder blades. He swears and lets his hips roll forward. Max feels relieved at the press of Daniel's already hard cock against his.

"You missed this, too?" Max asks.

"Of course."

"I bet it was just as good, with the others?"

Daniel steps back, shaking his head. "There was only ever you." He looks down at Max. The room is so soundless, he can hear the soft rustle of skin on fabric as Daniel's fingers gently wrap around his tits. He squeezes, tenderly at first until Max's small whines make Daniel's grip harder. Daniel's hands press faster, squeezing Max's tits together as Max reflexively searches for friction, his hips bucking into Daniel's.

"I only ever wanted this with you," Daniel says in a small whisper. "God, I haven't...it's been so long."

"We used to do something like this," Max says. He holds Daniel's bare biceps, spins him gently, and pushes him onto the bed. Daniel's wide eyes meet Max's gaze as the younger man straddles his hips. "But usually we were not wearing anything."

Daniel smirks. "Yeah, not usually clothed for long." He pulls Max down gently by the straps of the bikini, his fingertips dancing along the lace and then under the fabric to squeeze Max's hardening nipples. Max groans. His eyes water as Daniel twists gently. He wants. He needs. He feels his thighs clench around Daniel's hips, his cock pressing against the bikini's bottom and wetting the fabric with a leak of precome.

He lets Daniel maneuver him, moving one of Max's thighs between his legs. Max rolls his hips down, his dick rubbing against Daniel's tattooed thigh. He groans. For a moment, there is a heated rhythm of Max bucking into Daniel's leg and Daniel's hands working into Max's breasts, a dizzying tempo. Max's head swims in the careening pace.

"Daniel," he whines as he pinches harder and twists until Max feels ready to burst. "Daniel."

The other man pauses, watching as Max struggles to keep composure. He sighs.

"I fucking missed this," he breathes.

"You can come by whenever now," Max says before he can think. He stops short of saying more, of saying it can be anywhere, anytime. That it can be more than just for now if Daniel wants that. "Even if there is not a hot tub in the next hotel."

"Oh, yeah, the hot tub," Daniel says. He looks over at the still, clear water. They hadn't even turned on the jets. "Probs too cold by now, you reckon?"

Max nods, his tone matching Daniel's mock sobriety. "Oh, definitely. Shame. We can just...stay here in bed instead?"

"Sounds good to me, Maxy," Daniel says. He gives Max's breasts a final squeeze before his fingers lace into Max's hair and pull him down into a heated, urgent kiss. Max melts in fully, losing all sense of space and time. Like years ago, it was just them. Just for now, that's all that matters.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This 1980 home in Harrisburg, PA has seen things. The 4bd, 3ba home is only $220K, which leaves the new owner with some money left over to make the many repairs to this fixer upper.

Conveniently pull the cars up to to front door and don't worry, the cement blocks will stop you.

I rather like the stainless steel railing.

Very cool suspended fireplace. Is that an electric organ that they left?

Oh, I see, it's not just suspended by the chimney, it has reinforcements. Are those light bulbs in the beams?

The kitchen's pretty big. The cabinets have some nasty dirty handprints.

This must be the primary bedroom and it has a raised platform for the bed. I thought that was a lamp & table in the corner, but then I saw the chimney, so it's another fireplace.

Typical of homes of this era, the bathrooms are carpeted with a step into the tub.

The home has several levels. Mirrored walls in empty rooms are confusing.

There are signs on the sliding doors telling visitors to stay off the decks that surround the home. Looks like someone fell thru the ceiling in here.

Another bathroom with carpet.

Something's happening with the ceiling in this bedroom.

OMG, this is like the house of mirrors in the amusement park.

Now here we have a pit. Is it a conversation pit with a bar? The plank, however, was placed across it for what? A shortcut to the hot tub?

I don't know what this room is, probably a family room.

It's a treehouse, but the construction looks so flimsy.

It does have quite a few tiers of decks.

B/c of the hilly terrain and vegetation, it looks like it might not be easily accessible.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/4709-Holly-Cir-Harrisburg-PA-17110/86471154_zpid/

[kaiijo]

PARALLELS — OIKAWA TOORU

pairing: oikawa tooru x reader content: gn! reader, long distance relationship, light angst, fluff

when the cherry blossoms bloom, you think of oikawa. of days spent hunting for beetles at the base of the trunk when you, he, and iwaizumi were kids. afternoons in middle school when oikawa would roll his eyes at you and repeat again: “parallel lines will never intersect” and ignore your “what if”s. the evening when oikawa pulled you aside during your three-way graduation party and kissed you under the canopy of brown branches and pink flowers.

“oi,” iwaizumi’s gruff voice breaks you from your memories and he asks, “thinking about him again?”

“missing him, more like it,” you say. you glance back at the cherry blossoms, petals translucent in the light of the setting sun. you breathe in the fresh scent. you loop your arm through iwaizumi’s and drag him close to you for a selfie. he offers a small smile to the camera, a dim contrast to your beaming grin.

“we’ve gotta hustle,” he says, checking his watch. “gonna be late for the team dinner.”

“right.”

iwaizumi has the two of you power-walking down the street, thought it’s more like a light jog for you given your friend’s long, steady strides. you pass a convenience store down the street and you do a double take, stopping to stare at the magazine display in the window.

your boyfriend’s face is plastered on the glossy cover, his argentina uniform fitting him in all the right places. he smiles up at you for the paper, the blurb next to him promising a tell-all interview with juicy details. your eyes lock in on the words “love life” and “latest fling” and you can’t help but frown, stomach flipping slightly.

you know all of it is tabloid fodder, nothing but eye-catching headlines, and you trust and love oikawa with everything in you. still, you can’t deny the jealousy you feel when you see him cozied up with a beautiful, leggy model for a photo shoot. jealous that she gets to be physically present with him and you’re halfway around the world.

you hear iwaizumi urge you to come and you quickly catch up with him, your boyfriend’s blindingly white smile flashing through your mind.

the beach makes oikawa think of you. when your parents would take you guys there and you’d all run off to the tidepools and gawk at the starfish and crabs inside. when you two buried iwaizumi up to his neck in sand. when he would scoop you up and dunk you in the salty water, despite the shrieking pleas you let out, begging him not to.

oikawa sighs heavily. he leans against the balcony that over looks the seaside, watching the crystalline water ebb and flow. his phone pings on the small, glass-topped table behind him and he picks it up.

a notification lights up his screen: @.officialhinatashoyo mentioned you in a comment: we’re coming for you @.oikawatooru!!

oikawa opens his phone and finds hinata’s comment underneath a photo of japan’s national volleyball team enjoying drinks and food together.

he swipes through the photos, a bunch of group shots with other players (bokuto and hoshiumi are notable making stupid faces in many of them). oikawa stares at the last picture. hinata’s got his arms thrown around your shoulders and he’s clearly said something that has you giggling right at it was taken.

hinata’s tagged you but he also mentions you in the caption, thanking you for taking these pictures and every other photo of them as the official photographer for the team.

oikawa tries to push down the hollowness spreading in his chest, zooming in on your face. you’re glowing — you always are — and he’s happy you’re happy, but there’s the undeniably envious part of him that wishes he was there. making you laugh and smile. maybe sneaking in a kiss or two in between.

he loves playing for argentina; he likes his teammates, the country, and is grateful for how he’s grown, but he’ll never stop missing you when you’re this far away.

oikawa thinks his thumb moves on its own, dialing your number with practiced ease. he memorized it right after you got your phone, begged his mother to let him get a phone so he could input your contact immediately.

you pick up on the first ring and oikawa can’t hear your very well. he assumes that you’re still out with the team, ears straining. you say, “wait, hold on, tooru.”

he thinks he hears atsumu in the background, “ooh! you’ve got a boyfriend! you’ve got a boyfriend!” and he definitely hears you reply, “this is why you get no bitches, ‘tsumu.”

your voice gets clearer as the background noises fades. “hi, love,” you say, and oikawa can’t help but grin at the words.

“hi, baby,” he says. “you picked up quick! you must really like me, huh?”

you chuckle, “something like that. everything okay?”

“yeah, i just wanted to hear your voice.”

“now who’s the one who likes who?” you tease.

his smile only grows. “you know it. i’m obsessed.”

“right back at you, love.” there’s a short lull in the conversation, but it’s not uncomfortable or awkward. it never is with you two.

oikawa’s alarm breaks the silence, the buzzing of the alert sending vibrations through his hand. he frowns. “i’m sorry, baby, i’ve got to get ready for practice.”

“alright. i miss you and love you, tooru. have a good practice. we need you in top form for internationals.”

he laughs. “yeah, you better tell the guys to watch out. especially ushiwaka and tobio.”

“i let them know.”

“i miss you and love you two.”

“we’ll talk later.”

“promise?”

“i promise.”

[shoyosh]

i love you like the sun. h.s

general audiences | hinata / reader | 2.4k words — post-timeskip, childhood friends, reader is a university student, reader's mother owns a bakery, reunion :), sun/moon motifs perchance, not proofread! — read on SqWA

summary: while consumed in a blind race against the world, a comfortable beam of light returned to your life to guide your path forward.

author's note: for the fellow hinata stans out there shoveling through life, i suppose this is what a character like hinata would want to remind us :) happy belated birthday hinata... sob, sob. this is so late lol. title taken from the moon will sing by the crane wives (youtube).

Your short trip to the convenience store for a midnight snack is a growing nightmare as the machine rejects your payment. You don't have cash so on your second try, you close your eyes and wish for the best.

You're hungry and tired, the worse combination to deal with the pathetic 'loading…' screen. It's the ultimate test of patience as seconds tick by, and you're about to lose it…

Beep!

You sigh, reining your head from dropping on the counter top. The tech menace flaunts a large, bold 'ERROR!' It proceeds to shut down. While it feasted on your fear and patience, you got the short end of the stick. Seems like you'll be starting your all-nighter with an empty stomach.

Ding! The store bell rings. A customer has entered just in time to see your plight. What a happening night of unfortunate circumstances.

"I am so sorry for the trouble," you mutter, grabbing your item off the counter. The cashier takes a marker from a drawer underneath, swirls to the cabinet behind for a piece of paper, and writes "Cash Only" before finding a metal stand to prop the notice. Then, he calls the next customer.

It's just a fluffy, yellow, and warm melon bread. You can survive this deepening lonely night without it as you've done before.

This convenience store has served you diligently since your youth. Today is an outlier, not the end of the world. You're low on energy hence you shouldn't waste it on strong emotions, especially not tears.

You shake your head and leave the queue to place your item back on the shelf.

"Wait! I'll pay for you!" a voice says. Your eyes brighten. Who is this stranger whom you owe? Your saviour who will help you plough through this empty, blue and bleak night?

When you spin around, you stare straight at the sun.

Short yet tousled orange hair, tanned skin, and intense brown eyes. The man in front of you is more happy than surprised to see you.

"Hinata-san?" You sputter, pointing at him as he points back at you with a complementary wide grin. He seems to want to say your name but a question leaps from your tightening throat: "You're back in Japan?"

Just as he's about to reply, the cashier coughs and Hinata returns his attention to paying. He shares he wants to pay for your item, so you hand it to the cashier for another round of scanning. You also use the opportunity of his back against you to wipe any stray water at the corner of your eye.

Once he makes the purchase, both of you walk out of the convenience store. Warm summer air blows on your face the moment the glass doors slide open.

"What are you doing awake at this time?" Hinata asks while you're preoccupied with opening the plastic of your anticipated snack. It seems he did not buy anything.

"I should say the same for you!" Your mouth is filled with bread, muffling your pronunciation but unable to cushion the excitement in your voice. "Did you not tell anyone you are back?"

"Only my family knows for now." Hinata watches you carefully as you chow your mini-meal. "I landed a few hours ago and will be leaving in a few days. I don't think I have time to catch up with everyone... This trip was unplanned."

You press your lips together at the thought he didn't contact you for something as big as his a return.

Only after rumination, ensuring none of the hurt spills, do you speak.

"It's been so long since we last saw each other."

"I'm back to celebrate my birthday with my family. I believe the last we saw each other was on my birthday too."

You cough to readjust a lump of chewed bread that almost went down wrongly.

Birthday?

You tilt your phone's screen to see the date.

21st June.

Memories of a near distant past return, rearing you speechless as it plays in front of you like a film.

You remember Hinata, on his way to celebrate his last birthday as a high school student, riding his bicycle to your mother's neighbourhood bakery; You rejecting his invitation to go out so you can study for an upcoming test; The impromptu picnic at the park disrupted by your silent outburst; Him calmly convincing you to rest, not cram your head with revision.

"How embarrassing…" you mutter, wrestling with a sudden and strong desire to run to your apartment and never see the light of day. "I wish you'd forget that. I know I did."

"How can I forget! You were so stressed and I was so worried. But you did sleep and texted me the next day that you were feeling better. You were the top scorer for your test too! Isn't that the best birthday present?"

Your face heats up. Surely it is the summer night that is causing such a reaction. Did he know the effect he had on people? Shining smile and all. Does he know what effect he has on you? How unwavering it is despite the time and distance apart.

"I'm full," you declare, passing him your half-bitten melon bread. He didn't say it but you know he probably wants a bite of it too. It is his favourite. "You haven't tasted this in a while right? They don't sell this in Brazil, do they?"

"It's not as delicious." He takes the food, fingers brushing yours. You try to keep your hands to your side as naturally as possible, as if contact with his skin didn't inject a thousand chills into your system, blood rushing to your face.

"Why are awake at this hour though?" He asks.

"I'm just hungry." You shrug.

He chows down the melon bread. Then, he narrows his eyes.

"You wouldn't be if you were asleep though…"

"Obviously," you tease, trying to steer the conversation away from your tendency to sleep late. "Now it's your turn to share what you're doing here."

The convenience store is far behind as you and Hinata stroll down the street at a familiar leisurely pace. You walked this path with him every day up till high school, when he went to a school beyond the mountains, Karasuno. You didn't stay in the neighbourhood either. You were awarded a scholarship for a school in the city.

It pained you to realise how far apart you were from your best friend then. But he was always nearby. Although infrequent throughout high school, he would peer through the glass windows of the bakery looking for you. Sometimes you'll visit his house for dinner when your mother had deliveries out of town. Moments you spent with him were sun-drenched. Without him, you easily receded into long, gloomy nights of revising. There was no other option if you wanted to hold your scholarship among a pool of talented people. You even decided against staying at the University dorms to have his shade of orange in your life.

You can't say you took the news of him traveling to Brazil well.

It was easy to drown in the deep blues of the night since. Burning your memories in exchange for output, so there were less things to painfully hold on to.

"I'm still following Brazil's clock." Hinata laughs, then points at the moon but you look at him. "It's bright in Brazil. I would be at the beach hitting some drills."

As you pass the lamplight, you observe his new physique. He has an uneven tan around his shoulders and thighs that are larger and more formed. You try to tear your eyes away from it, but they linger even as both of you enter a shadowed area of the road. If you knew you would bump into him, you would wear something presentable. You are in your loose pajamas, and unlike Hinata who is in a sleeveless top and sports shorts, you aren't prepared for the warm weather. The trip to the convenience store was supposed to be quick.

"Let's drop by my place, if you don't mind," you offer.

"Sure! I was planning to walk you back anyways, and there's nothing to do at home."

"Do you not have plans for your birthday?"

"Not until tomorrow." He shakes his head and hesitates. He glances at you innocently which signals he's far from innocent but your desire to question him is swept away with his large sigh. "The cake my parents bought will only come then."

"It's a custom cake? I can't think of any other reason why it can't be fulfilled on the day of the—wait… My mum was busy making an order for a special cake, and she said it was something I'll look forward to… Is that your cake?"

Hinata rubs the back of his head as he looks at everything but you, eyes frantically jumping from lamppost to the ground to the roof of houses.

"I…" He pouts like a dog with its tail between its legs. "My return was supposed to be a surprise…" His voice tapers to a whisper, but Hinata has the lungs of a beast. He roars the next few words. "I was supposed to send you a surprise invite to my birthday party tomorrow, but I really wanted to see you!"

You stand at the sidewalk, limbs limp and eyes wide. If you were still eating, you would have dropped your snack.

He wanted… to see you?

But you have more important things to stress about!

Tomorrow? After your all-nighter to finish your work, you'll crash! You might need a drink for that extra energy boost throughout the night…

"Is something wrong?" Hinata asks, his eyes now steadily on you. "I heard from your mum you have been working hard. That's why your replies are so sparse, isn't it?"

"I wasn't… ignoring you," you mumble, remembering how he'll send you a text and you'll reply a month later. "Yeah, things have been getting really busy."

He crosses his arms, puffing his chest out.

"I knew you'd be at the convenience store."

"Eh?" A second blow of surprise. Maybe you've overworked yourself. This is a dream, isn't it? You pinch your cheeks and flinch at the pain.

"You haven't changed, have you? Do I need to be here to take care of you?" He leans, eyes sharp and focused, as if you'll be able to see yourself through his irises. You'll never know in the dimness, but it does feel he's caged you in his sight.

"E-Eh!!" You stumble back, chains of embarrassment are latched on your shoulders and calling you to the floor. "Please don't say such stuff so abruptly. I can't take it."

Hinata chortles, filling your chest with a warmth that coddles your heart battered by his absence. You missed this laugh of his. An aunty turns on the lights in her room and opens her window to scold both of you, and her incessant insults about being lovesick birds causes that feeling to climb to your face.

After apologising, the short distance to your house is awkward, but he invites himself in like old times once he's reached, as if the summer he left was a fever dream.

"Sorry, everything is all over the place," you warn as you flick your room's lights on. Stacks of books overflow from your shelf while stationary and miscellaneous items sprawl on your desk, your laptop the epicentre of the mess. You dump yourself in your chair and instinctively start working as Hinata makes himself comfortable sitting at the edge of your bed. But it's not enough to please him as he gets up and observes over your shoulder.

"That's a lot of words."

"It's a report I've got to finish by tomorrow." Your fingers fly across the keyboard. Seconds later, they are deleted. "It's a pain in the ass."

Hinata giggles. "I've never heard you say that."

"Everyone says worse stuff in University. It really wrings you dry." You get up to pull a stool from under your bed for him to sit on. His name written in cheap red marker across the seat is faded and smeared.

"Have you been living like this? Your bed feels almost new while your chair looks worn." His fingers ghost over some scratch marks on the backrest.

Do I need to be here to take care of you?

"It feels like I don't really have a choice."

"Well, since neither of us can sleep, let's go through this night together."

With Hinata's presence, the night is less blue.

When you wake, it is late morning. Your alarm has been ringing for hours, and you turn to your side after shutting it off. With your head resting on your soft pillow, blanket over your figure, and the air conditioning gently buzzing to cool your room to a comfortable temperature, it’s the perfect equation for staying in bed. However, hazy memories of your report jolts you to your feet.

What happened last night? Where did you stop? Where's Hinata? You dash towards your screen—

There is a post-it-note at the corner with a message written in neat yet uneven handwriting.

You check your phone out of habit, surprised to find a notification. Hinata sent a text.

I went back home to sleep. You worked hard so I tucked you in bed ☆～（ゝ。∂）Hope to see you at the party tomorrow!

Another attack of summer—your face warms and you hide behind your hands. He tucked you in bed? That's so embarrassing. How are you going to face him during the party?

Once again, his words repeat in your mind.

Do I need to be here to take care of you?

If you can be selfish, the answer is yes.

But you know better than that. The sun is a distant star that shines out of reach.

You try to ignore the clock and its ticking numbers, and once your anxiousness surrenders to a calm, you pester your mother downstairs to make your favourite childhood drink. Her not-so-special spciality: hot chocolate. You haven't drank it in years. Taking the cup up, you settle in your chair and do some stretches.

You close your eyes facing your window. The sun's rays seep through your eyelids, a splash of unforgettable orange paints your view.

Even if Hinata can't be with you as often as you'll like, you'll always have traces of him to guide you through the endless night.

You take a deep, big breath and read the reminder he left on your laptop.

Take it easy.

author's note: this story was inspired by this video by lessons from anime (youtube). started this fic on 24th june and tried to finish it before the month ended only to fail, but i picked myself up and somehow managed to squeeze this out. thanks for making it until the end! till my next hq fanfic :)

[codenameredkrystalmatrix]

One of Those Nights: Miguel O'Hara x (Fem!)Reader

♡‧₊˚synopsis:

Fluff fic featuring Miggy!

♡‧₊˚word count:

933

♡‧₊˚genres:

domestic fluff

Huh...no wonder you'd been feeling so down. The place was a mess. Between the increased anomaly activity, and the ensuing stress at the Spider Society, you hadn't gotten to deep-clean in an embarrassingly long time. You were home, so there was no time like the present to correct that. Popping in your earbuds, you got to work scrubbing, disinfecting and organizing the place until it sparkled. You barely even noticed the time until the text got harder to read on your phone and you were forced to look up. The stars barely peeked out from behind the clouds of a dark night's sky.

Leaning on the windowsill, you rested your muscles and appreciated the cool air. Your skin was a bit sticky from all your running about the house, so the combination gave you goosebumps. But you were contented. A ballad drifted through your ears and into your mind, the singer whispering of woodlands where fairies sailed down old logs after the rain. Fantastical, yes. But you loved to dream, if even for only a little while.

You were finished for the day, so you took a shower and decided on reading before bed. Much to your surprise, you heard a portal opening long before ungodly hours. Miguel was back already?

His muscular figure was in the living room when you returned, suit deactivating as he shook his sweaty curls. When your lover turned to you, the crimson frustration in his eyes deepened to relieved mahogany.

"Ah, mi tesoro."

That was all the warning you received before he pulled you into a tight hug. Gentle nips and kisses blessed your neck and cheeks, making you giggle. "Migs, I showered already!"

"Looks like you'll have to do that again. We can go together to save time."

"How convenient."

"Mhm. I'm a genius."

His hands wandered up your shirt, caressing your stomach, sides and back. You didn't want to deny him when he was in such a tender mood, but...

"Bathtime, mister-now that you've made us both stinky."

"We're going, we're going..."

...

......

.........

"Mig?"

"Hmm?"

"Did you...fall asleep standing up?"

"No."

"Right. I definitely believe that. C'mon."

Once the water was running, you squeezed out some body wash and worked it into his skin. "Hitting the right spot?"

"Yeah."

"Did you get to eat today?"

"Mhm."

He smiled, remembering how terrible he'd been at that before you became insistent. He felt so much more clear-minded and energetic. You were always so good to him- his dear, dear sweetheart. Miguel's heart fluttered as he remembered the meals you prepared together, and his surprise at finding kind little notes in the lunch containers upon opening them. His subsequent happiness made the meals ten times better. Honestly, you were almost too much for him. For now, he'd like to enjoy the feeling of your skin under his hands. "May I wash you now?"

You beamed, a little flushed at the prospect. "Yes."

He offered you a helping hand once finished, tenderly thumbing it until you were outside. The cool of the bedroom with Miguel's heat right beside you made for a comforting sensation. As the rains began again, you turned on the amber side lamp to the left of the bed. Its warm light made for an inviting atmosphere. The only thing that would make it better, in your eyes, would be a few sweet treats.

"Want to finish the brownies?"

"Yes- definitely."

You laughed at his enthusiasm. Putting on one of his shirts, you headed down, reheated the container and returned to his arms with your prizes.

When he had a taste, it was almost as though you could see Miguel's eyes light up. Compared to when you'd met a few years ago, where he'd barely survive off of stale pre-made food, he'd come such a long way.

Selecting one, you had a bite and sighed as their soft, chocolatey goodness hit your tongue. "You know, I think these get better and better the more you eat them. Want one more?"

He nodded. But, instead of handing him the container, you held the brownie near his mouth. "Open up!"

Smirking, he obeyed, but took much longer than necessary to release your fingers.

"Hey! No eating me!"

You heard something like 'I never saw that mentioned in the contract.' and rolled your eyes. Taking your fingers out of his mouth, you flicked his cheek, washed your hands and curled up facing away from him to resume reading.

Placing his arm over you to spoon, Miguel nudged his nose against your shoulder. "'His rock-hard abs rippled in the Texan sunlight', eh?"

Shoot- he'd been reading with you? "Uuuhh..."

"Didn't know you were into cowboys, sweetheart. I'll buy us a ranch."

"Miguel! It's just a book! Let me have a little fantasy, ok?!"

You felt him shift, gliding his lips up to your neck as he whispered into it. "Wanna take me for a ride, l'il lady?"

You snorted, turning away as your giggles got the better of you. "Your accent is terrible!"

"Yeah? You try!"

"No!"

"Well then mine's better!"

"That's not how it works!"

He blew raspberries on your cheek, making you laugh outright. Past your tears of joy, you caught his smile. And when they cleared, you looked into loving, deep brown eyes that caught just a twinge of gold from the lamplight.

"Thank you for cleaning, mi alma. That and…everything you've done for me."

"You're welcome, Miguel. Let's brush our teeth and get some sleep."

And, once done, you both could at last enjoy the peace of drifting off in your lover's arms.

Author's Notes:

I've wanted to write simpler, more wholesome fics. I hope you like it!

♡‧₊˚translations:

Ah, mi tesoro- Oh, my treasure mi alma- My soul

♡‧₊˚divider:

@strangergraphics

♡‧₊˚kaomojis:

@dientesdeporcelana @whoisyen

[idkwhatimdoinghere1655]

🎁🎄Never Better Than At Christmas - Max Verstappen

<word count - 3484>

You lived in a small, snow-covered town in the heart of the Netherlands, and you were known throughout the town for your absolute adoration of Christmas. You always decorated your cozy little house with twinkling lights, ornaments and a perfectly adorned tree.

You also worked at the bookstore, where you spent your days surrounded by the magic of stories. You spent every Monday night, reading to the children of the village, and you helped out in the school library as well. 

On one snowy evening, just a few mere days before Christmas, a man walked into the bookstore, seemingly seeking refuge from the bitter cold outside. You were eager to share your love for literature, so you approached the man. 

"Excuse me?" you asked, standing beside him. He had a few sprinkles of white on his coat shoulders, a few sitting atop his blonde hair. "Can I help you?" you further asked, once you had his attention.

"I was just walking by, and this place looked pretty warm, I hope you don't mind," he kindly smiled, taking in your appearance. You looked as cozy as you possibly could, with black turtleneck sweater and a thick jacket over the top.

"Of course, no problem," you smiled, glad to have a visitor at this time. Nobody really came to the store past 5pm, but you were still open till eight any way. It was quiet, and it was the perfect place for you to read all of the books you could possibly want to indulge in. 

"It's a really nice store you've got here, the Christmas decorations are gorgeous," he complimented, and you couldn't help but blush. You took great pride in decorating your favourite place for your favourite holiday, and it was nice that someone noticed. 

"Thank you, Christmas is my absolute favourite holiday in the whole world," you beamed as he nodded in approval. 

"I completely agree with you, there's nothing quite like the magic of Christmas, is there?" he said, and you felt like you were falling in love already.

"There really isn't," you agreed, watching as his eyes wandered around the space. Bookshelves upon bookshelves lining the walls, filled to the brim with old classics and modern works of literature. There was a Christmas tree by the till, and the whole store had warm, twinkling lights strung up. 

"Can I get you a drink? I can do tea, coffee, hot chocolate, whatever you want, really," you offered, wanting to learn more about the stranger who had stumbled into your shop. 

"A hot chocolate sounds great, thank you." 

"Take a seat and I'll have it ready in a few minutes," you told him, pointing to the two arm chairs that were tucked away in the corner. That was where you would sit and read to the children on a Monday night, while they all sat sipping hot chocolates as they intently listened to you. 

You disappeared into the back to your tiny kitchen, which consisted of a small stove and a kettle, made complete with a mini fridge where you kept the milk. You warmed it up over the stove, before tipping the rich chocolate powder into it.

Pouring it into two mugs, you topped it off with whipped cream and the mini marshmallows that you absolutely loved. Walking back out into the shop, the mugs clutched in your hand, you saw the blonde man sat in one of the armchairs, and he had conveniently left your favourite one vacant for you. 

"Thank you," he said, taking one of the mugs out of your hands and leaning back in the chair. Something about the shop felt comforting, and homely. He couldn't quite tell whether it was the atmosphere, the lighting or the strange feeling of familiarity. 

"What's your name, if you don't mind me asking?" you queried, sitting down in the armchair next to the stranger's. You held the mug in your hands, and it was perfectly warm to the touch. 

"Max, you?" he said, and you could finally put a name to the face. 

"Y/N, it's a pleasure to meet you," you smiled, looking at him. He had this glint in his eyes, and they were just as blue as the crisp winter skies on a morning. Something about him made you feel safe, and comforted. 

"The pleasure is all mine," Max said, sipping away at his hot chocolate. He had to admit, it was one of the best he had ever had, and it made him feel a warmth inside his chest. 

"So what brings you here? You're not a local, I know that for sure," you chuckled. 

"I was just passing through, since I'm going home to my family's for Christmas, but the snow was just too heavy to drive, so I thought I'd stop over here until it clears. I saw your shop was open, and I love books, and it looked incredibly cozy, so I figured it'd be perfect to get out of the storm for a short while," he explained, as you attentively listened. 

"What kind of books do you like?" you asked, excited to delve into one of your favourite topics. You owned a bookstore after all, so you had to know what you were talking about in regards to your passion. 

"I really like the classics, and A Christmas Carol has to be one of my favourites," he told you, and you could have sworn your heart skipped a beat. You stood from your chair and, once again, disappeared into the back. 

You pressed the buttons on the safe in the corner and produced what you were looking for. You handed it to Max when you returned, and his eyes widened. "My prized possession, not first edition, but printed in 1845," you explained. 

He gently ran his fingers over the delicate red front of the book - the 1845 print of A Christmas Carol. The edges were slightly frayed, but that was to be expected of a near on 180-year-old book. "How the hell did you get your hands on this?" he asked, flabbergasted. He had to keep on running his fingers over it, just to make sure it was real. 

"My Dad was a collector of the classics, this is the only one of his that isn't in a museum at the moment," you explained, the look on his face being completely priceless. It was like a child opening their dream gift on Christmas morning. That pure, innocent joy that couldn't be compared to anything else. 

"Can I open it?"

"Books are meant to be read," you nodded, watching the care he took as he gently flipped the pages. His hands were so careful with the aged, frail pages, his eyes scanning over the words that he had read so many times over, but it was so much better reading them from what might as well have been an original copy. 

"It's beautiful, absolutely beautiful," he stuttered, unable to take his eyes off the object in his hands. "Thank you for letting me see it," he added, handing it back to you so that you could put it back in its safe place.

"Stories are meant to be shared, it'd be selfish if I didn't," you smiled, peeking out of the window, seeing snowflakes aggressively fly through the air, a few hitting the glass panes. The wind rattled the door every now and then, as if it were trying to infiltrate the warm, safe space with its bitingly cold fingers. 

"I don't think the storm is letting up anytime soon, do you have a place to stay for the night?" you asked, seemingly concerned about what Max was going to do. 

"I didn't really think about that, to be honest..." he realised, thinking he would have to spend the night in his car, shivering as the wind kept him awake with its howling. 

"There's a spare room at my place, if you would be comfortable staying, that is. No pressure if not, I'm a stranger and this is a new town, I get it," you rambled.

"If you're happy with it, then I'd be very grateful to stay for the night," he smiled, glad that you were trusting a stranger from outside of your town to stay in your house. 

"Well then, let me lock up and we can head out," you smiled, retrieving your keys from the counter and starting to lock the bookstore up for the night. Once you were done, you led Max down some side streets, that were sheltered from the wind by the buildings.

"Goodnight Max, I'll be next door if you need me," you said, closing the door to the spare room behind you as you left Max to settle and get some sleep. All he could think about for a short while was how grateful he was for the storm, since it meant he could meet you and get to know you. 

The next morning, you awoke to people shovelling snow from the roads and pavements in order to allow people to actually get around the village. You found Max in the kitchen, stood at the stove. "Good morning, I figured I could make you breakfast as a small thank you," he said as he noticed you walk in. 

Your heart was fluttering as you and Max ate breakfast together, little progress being made on the roads outside. "I don't think you're going to be able to drive for a little while," you said, and Max could only chuckle in agreement. 

The roads were still blanketed by inches of snow, so driving on them was simply an idiotic idea. "How about we go for a walk, I can show you around?" you offered, wanting to show off more of your town to the man you had grown so fond of in such a short amount of time. 

"Sounds wonderful," Max smiled, ready to see your town. Once you were done with breakfast and had cleared away, the pair of you shrugged your coats over your shoulders and ventured out into the snowy landscape. 

The snow crunched under your feet, and glittered under the high winter sun. You showed him some of your favourite places, and finally took him to the antique shop that you frequented. Despite it only being a small town, there were many treasures that people kept until they no longer had the use for them, and brought them here. 

It was very resemblant of your book store, and Max instantly adored it. As you wandered around the store, Max let his eyes feast on all of the old wonders that it contained. Their collection spanned from furniture to old trinkets from years gone by. 

But, the section that intrigued the pair of you the most had to be the jewellry. They had pieces that were seemingly timeless, and they had every kind of piece that one's heart could desire: brooches, earrings, bracelets, necklaces, rings, anklets. You name it, they had something of it. 

Your eyes were particularly captured by a golden locket, the piece being placed in the display cabinet open, revealing the two spaces that two photos could be placed in. "Pretty, isn't it?" Max said, standing beside you as you gazed at it. 

"It really is," you nodded, moving on from the cabinet before the locket could steal your heart just as quickly as Max had. Max had already made up his mind of what he was going to do before he left, but he needed to send you away so he could make it somewhat of a surprise. 

As you stepped outside of the shop, Max stopped and tried to bring on his Oscar winning acting skills, of which he felt he greatly lacked. "Damn, I think I left my keys on one of the displays, I'll go and get them," he lied, not having a clue if he was being convincing or not. 

"Do you want me to come and help you look?" you offered, not spotting the pretty obvious lie. 

"No, I know where they are, but thank you," he said, a little too quickly before walking back into the store and heading straight to the counter. The clerk was more than happy to sell him the locket, since they were getting pretty full of items. 

He had it, and now he just had to get a couple more things done with it, and then he could gift it to you. "Am I alright to stay at yours for another night? I don't think the roads are clear yet," he said, glad to be hopefully staying longer with you. 

"Yeah, you can stay for as long as you need," you smiled, grateful that the roads weren't being cleared. You didn't want Max to go just yet, since you were thoroughly enjoying the time spent with him. You had gotten used to having him around for the past day and a bit, and you didn't want that to end. 

Eventually, you headed home and lit the fire, but Max said he was going to go to bed early, just in case he could leave the next day and would have a long drive ahead of him. You sat in front of the fire, the flames casting shadows on the walls with a crimson glow on the space. 

A newer copy of A Christmas Carol was sat on the coffee table, and you had started re-reading it since Max had been there. You mentally scolded him for partially ruining the book for you, since you would think of him every time you read the book, or looked at your prized 1845 copy. 

Now, A Christmas Carol and Max were two things that popped up simultaneously in your brain, and there was nothing you could do about it. While you were lost in your thoughts, you failed to notice Max slipping out of the back door and out onto the snowy pavements, yet again.

He went to the jewellry shop, leaving the locket there while he went to find someone who could print photos. It took a while, but he eventually found a printing machine in the convenience store. He also found a box for the locket, so that was convenient. 

Checking over the jewellers handy work on his return, he adored what they had done. It was exactly as he had imagined, and all he had to do was place the photo in, and it was all set for you. Opening the back door again, he was hit with the warmth from the fire, and silence. Nothing could be hear apart from the soft crackle of the embers. 

He saw you, still in the same exact spot on the couch, but you didn't move an inch. He headed upstairs to get ready for bed, but he thought it would be good to check on you. You were still in the same position, and as he approached, you stayed completely still. 

He rounded the sofa, quickly seeing why you hadn't moved. You were fast asleep, your book open in your lap as your lips were parted with soft breaths escaping them. He took the book from your lap, spotting that you were reading A Christmas Carol, and it was coincidentally on a very topical page. 

He put it to the side, and draped a blanket over you so that you'd be warm once the fire died out. He lent over and gently kissed you on the forehead, whispering a soft 'Goodnight' as he left you sleeping. 

Unfortunately for the both of you, the roads were fully cleared, and Max no longer had an excuse to stay. He stood outside your door, his bag in one hand as he took it all in for one last time. "It's been lovely spending time with you, Max," you said, trying to hide your sadness. 

"It's been great spending time with you as well, thank you so much for letting me stay," he smiled, gazing at you. 

"You're welcome any time, Max, absolutely any time at all," you told him, fidgeting with the object behind your back. "Erm, Merry Christmas," you stuttered, thrusting it in his direction. With his free hand, he took the thing from you, expecting it.

"I figured if you liked A Christmas Carol, you'll like this," you rambled, trying to gauge a reaction. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, before it broke out into a full grin across his face. "It's a special copy," you told him. 

Flicking it open, he saw all of your annotations, all of your thoughts and feelings, as if he were inside your mind. "Wow, thank you, so much," he smiled, tucking it into his bag. It was something he would treasure forever, and Great Expectations would now be something he always correlated with you. 

"I actually have something for you, but you can't open it until tomorrow, OK?" he said, pulling a small box out of his pocket. 

"Thank you, Max. I won't open it until tomorrow," you promised, dropping the box into your pocket so that you wouldn't get tempted to open it. 

"Merry Christmas, Y/N," he said, before throwing caution to the wind and leaning closer to you. He paused for a moment, unsure if doing what he was about to was a good idea or not, but he knew he'd regret it if he didn't.

He closed the gap between you, capturing your lips in a short, yet sickeningly sweet kiss. It only left the both of you wanting more as he pulled away, the flush on your cheeks no longer being from the cold. "I'll see you later, Y/N," Max said, sitting down into his car. 

"I'll see you later, Max," you smiled, the melancholy instantly melting away like snow on a sunny day when you realised that this wasn't goodbye. Something inside you told you this wasn't goodbye, it simply was, as you had both said, a 'see you later'.

He waved as he drove off, and you stood there for a minute. It took everything you had to not pelt after him as fast as your legs could take you, stop Max's car, and give him everything you had. But, your eyes remained trained on the back of his car, until he was a dot on the horizon no more. 

--

There was one present you were itching to open on Christmas day, and it was the first one you looked at as you sat in front of your Christmas tree. Taking the lid off the box your heart stopped. 

Sat there, shining and glinting in the light, was the golden locket you had laid your eyes upon in the antiques store with Max. You ran your fingers over the cold, smooth gold for a moment, before opening it up. 

In the left panel was the one picture you and Max had taken together, in front of your book store, both of you smiling with cold-bitten rosy cheeks. In the right panel, was an engraving. 'Never better than at Christmas'. 

You flicked your eyes over to the copy of A Christmas Carol that you had on the coffee table still, and your heart swelled to at least three times the size. Tucked in the side, was a small piece of paper. All that was on it was a series of numbers, and you could barely refrain from jumping up in the air and giggling like a teenager. 

You put Christmas on hold, as you punched the numbers into your phone, and instantly texted it. 'Hey Max, thank you for my present, it is absolutely beautiful, I adore it. Hope you got to your family's safe, Merry Christmas! x'

'It was the least I could do after you were so kind to me' he instantly messaged back, as if he were waiting for you. "But I didn't make it to my family's'," a voice from behind you said. You whipped your head around, only to see Max stood there. 

For a moment, you just stared at him, thinking he was a figment of your imagination. "The snow got too bad further down," he smiled, opening his arms out to you. You bounded over to him, throwing your arms around his neck as you kissed him with every morsel of love you had in your body. 

He held you close as you kissed, and there couldn't have been a more magical moment. As you pulled away, flushed and breathless, Max tucked a lock of loose hair behind your ear. "You OK?" he softly asked, looking deep into your eyes. 

"Never better than at Christmas," you smiled, an he kissed you again, like a man starved of affection. He knew he'd never have to miss someone as much as he'd missed you during the drive away, and he knew this'd be the first of many more Christmases to remember. 

A/N - Merry Christmas my loves! I have some time off, and a few things finished, so that means you guys are actually going to get some content out of me! I am working on requests and part 2s, even though I know I've been saying that for like... 2 months now. I hope you're all having a wonderful day, whether you celebrate Christmas or not, and I love you all!

Lando Christmas Special coming later, Charles Christmas Special coming in the next couple days! 💖💖

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