#but you are cool !!! thank you for your asks this has been a fun discussion <333

[aromanticgarbage]

You are right, very common tattoo. Was just curious as she looked familiar too so maybe had some cool meaning.

But who knows right, and I know, privacy and all. Sometimes curiosity kills the cat at night when bored lol

And thanks for replying! You're cool and love your shares.

(Sent link separately so its not out there)

I replied to your other ask but ye it seems like this artist did a lot of those designs. I don't know this lady but she seems pretty cool. Thank you for enjoying this mess of a blog hehe <3

[pucksandpower]

Hi!! I always see fics of Charles being the one who isn’t believed he’s in a relationship (and i eat it all up cause it’s such a fun trope 😌) but what if it’s the reader’s turn. Like she’s a normal university student who always talks about her boyfriend but her friends and her fellow students just don’t believe her so Charles decides to surprise her and just be the proof. Thanks in advance!!

Daydream

Charles Leclerc x engineering student!Reader

Summary: You are living the dream … except no one actually believes that your boyfriend is really your boyfriend

You walk into class after the winter break with a sun-kissed glow and a new watch on your wrist.

Your friend Matteo notices it immediately and lets out a low whistle.

“Wow, that has to be the most realistic looking fake I’ve ever seen! Where did you get it?” He asks with a grin.

You roll your eyes but smile back. “It’s not a fake. Charles gave it to me for Christmas.”

Your friends barely give you a chance to get the last word out before they burst out laughing. You feel your cheeks flush in embarrassment and annoyance.

“Oh sure, I’m certain that your very real boyfriend, Charles Leclerc the Formula 1 driver, just happened to give you a €340,000 Richard Mille for Christmas,” your other friend Livia jokes.

“Come on guys, I’m serious! Charles and I have been dating for months now. We met when I was interning with Ferrari last year,” you insist.

But your friends just keep chuckling and shaking their heads in disbelief.

“If you were really dating an F1 driver, you would be posting cute couple-y pics all over Instagram. There’s no way anyone in that position could resist showing off a little,” Matteo argues.

You let out an exasperated sigh. You and Charles agreed to keep your relationship out of the public eye for now to avoid media scrutiny. But your friends just see this as further proof that you’re making it all up.

“Maybe he’s embarrassed to be seen with an engineering student,” Livia quips.

That stings a bit, even though you know she doesn’t mean for it to.

You slump down in your chair, absentmindedly fiddling with the exquisite watch on your wrist. You hadn’t realized it was worth so much when Charles gave it to you. The way his eyes lit up when you unwrapped it on Christmas morning was priceless. He was so excited to spoil you in any way he could. And now your friends think it’s just a cheap fake.

Charles is always doing ridiculously romantic things like flying you out on a private jet just so you can spend any free weekends together and sending you bouquets of roses bigger than you are. But no one believes that he’s really your boyfriend. To them, it’s all just part of an elaborate scheme you’ve concocted.

You met Charles when you were one of ten engineering graduate students selected for a prestigious internship with Scuderia Ferrari. You spent six months working in Maranello, learning from some of motorsport’s brightest minds.

Charles took an interest in you immediately. He would come by your workstation in the aerodynamics lab, peppering you with thoughtful questions about your projects. You would discuss aerodynamic principles and simulations for hours. Even ex-team principal Mattia Binotto said the two of you had a visible “synergy.”

Your internship had since ended but your relationship with Charles continued. You tried to play it cool at first, not wanting to seem overly eager. The day after you went back to study in Milan, he asked you out to dinner. Your first date lasted five hours as you talked endlessly about everything under the sun. You were amazed at how you never ran out of things to discuss.

Over the next few months, you grew closer and closer. Charles would take weekend trips to Milan just to see you, even if it was only for a few hours. He told you that you grounded him and reminded him that there was more to life than racing.

When he asked you to be his girlfriend after inviting you to the Monaco Grand Prix, you were shocked but ecstatic. You knew then that your hectic schedules won’t make it easy but Charles is unlike anyone you’ve ever known. He makes your heart race faster than a V12 engine.

You’re shaken from your reminiscing as Matteo waves a hand in front of your face. “Earth to Y/N! Come on, tell us where you got the watch. I want to get one too! It looks so identical to the real thing that we could probably sell it to some suckers on eBay.”

You shake your head with a huff. “Forget it, I’ll tell you all about my ‘fake’ boyfriend another time.”

For now, you’re just counting down the days until you can see Charles again.

No matter what anyone else may think, the two of you know that your love is real.

***

You’re humming along to your playlist as you drive Charles’ Purosangue on the winding roads leading to Milan. The SUV handles like a dream and you’re thoroughly enjoying the feeling of having 715 horsepower under your feet.

Your own trusty Fiat had broken down while visiting Charles in Monaco over the weekend. He insisted you take the Purosangue for the almost four hour drive back rather than waiting for a rental. You tried to decline at first, anxious about driving such an expensive vehicle. But Charles wouldn’t take no for an answer.

“I don’t like the idea of you driving all that way alone in some random rental car,” he argued. “This will be much safer and more comfortable for you, mon amour.”

You finally relented, unable to resist when he turned on the charm. Charles gave you a lengthy tutorial of all the car’s features before sending you off with a lengthy kiss and plans for your next visit.

As you pull into the Politecnico di Milano parking lot, you realize just what a scene you’re about to cause. The other students are used to seeing you in your almost ten-year-old Fiat, not a glittering metallic Ferrari.

Sure enough, jaws drop and whispers follow you as you step out of the driver’s seat. Matteo quickly spots you from across the lot and comes jogging over eagerly.

“No way! Is that ... is that a Purosangue?” He gapes. “What are you doing with that?”

“Funny story actually. My car broke down when I was visiting Charles in Monaco last weekend. So he let me borrow this while mine is in the shop.”

Matteo stares at you blankly. “Visiting Charles ... in Monaco?” He throws his head back and laughs. “Your dedication to this bit is honestly impressive, Y/N. But there’s no way that the Charles Leclerc just gave you his Ferrari to drive back to Milan.”

You sigh but you’re determined not to let Matteo get under your skin this time. “Believe what you want. But I had an amazing weekend with my boyfriend before heading back to reality today.”

You head into class, Matteo trailing behind you, still shaking his head in disbelief. Livia immediately jumps up when she sees you.

“Shut up, is that really a Ferrari outside?” She gasps. You nod nonchalantly and take your seat.

“Y/N here is trying to convince us that her boyfriend let her borrow it over the weekend,” Matteo says with an exaggerated eye roll.

“You do realize those start at €390,000 right?” Livia says. “Why on earth would Charles Leclerc of all people let you drive his brand new ultra luxury SUV around?”

You throw your up hands in indignation. “Maybe because he’s my boyfriend and he wanted to help me out! Why is that so hard for you guys to believe?”

But instead of listening to you, other classmates join the conversation and chime in with their own theories about why you suddenly have a Ferrari.

“Maybe she rented it to play a prank on everyone,” suggests Liam.

“No way,” Eva argues. “Maybe she got a big inheritance? Some distant rich relative died and left their fortune to Y/N?”

You groan internally. But before you can respond, your professor walks in and instructs everyone to take their seats.

Through the lecture, you catch people whispering and pointing discreetly at you. By the time class ends, you just want to go home and video chat with Charles about your frustrating day.

As you pack up your things, Livia comes over. “So have you thought about what you’ll tell people when they see you getting out of that Ferrari for the foreseeable future?” She asks.

You blink at her. “The truth? That Charles loaned it to me while my car is in the shop,” you say slowly.

She pats your shoulder. “Come on Y/N, the joke was funny at first but now it’s just getting sad. No one actually believes that you’re dating Charles Leclerc and driving his cars around. Just tell us where you really got it so we can all move on from this weird fantasy life you’ve constructed.”

You stand up abruptly, shoving your notebook in your bag. “It’s not a fantasy,” you spit sharply. “It’s my real life and I’m sorry you can’t accept that. But I don’t need to convince you or anyone else.”

You storm out of the classroom, blinking back frustrated tears.

Pulling out your phone, you text Charles.

I miss you. My friends still think I’m making this all up. I can’t wait to see you in Spain next race.

Charles texts back immediately.

Not as much as I miss you. Don’t worry about what other people think, we know our love is real.

And you looked so hot driving my car 😉

You smile down at your phone, comforted by his words. You may never get your friends and classmates to believe your relationship, but as long as you and Charles know the truth, that’s all that truly matters.

Sliding back behind the wheel of the shiny Ferrari, you feel your stress melt away. Who cares what anyone thinks? You have an amazing boyfriend who trusts you with his most prized possessions. And someday when you and Charles are ready to share your love with the world, everyone’s jaws will drop in disbelief.

For now, you’ll just enjoy the ride.

***

It’s nearly time for summer break and you’re sitting outside with Matteo, Livia, and some other friends, soaking up the sunshine.

“We should all go backpacking around the Greek islands in August!” Suggests Livia. “We could start in Athens, then ferry to Mykonos, Santorini, and end in Crete. Who’s in?”

Everyone voices their enthusiasm for the idea. Then Matteo turns to you. “How about it, Y/N? Take a break from your ‘boyfriend’ and come adventuring with us common folk.”

You take a deep breath and stir your coffee, debating on how to break the news. “That sounds amazing but I already have plans for the summer.”

“Oh yeah? Going home to see your family?” Matteo asks.

You take a deep breath. “Actually, Charles and I are going on a vacation for a few weeks.”

Your friends erupt into laughter.

“A holiday? With Charles Leclerc?” Livia giggles. “Girl, your fantasies are really taking off lately!”

You frown in annoyance. “I’m serious. Charles chartered a yacht and everything. I wish you could see how excited he is for our first big trip together. He’s been planning it for months.”

Livia pats your hand gently. “Sweetie, we know you’re probably feeling financial pressure with school and all. You don’t have to lie about going off on some glamorous vacation. If you can’t afford to join us in Greece, just say so.”

You stare at her in disbelief. “This isn’t about money. Charles and I have been looking forward to this since the start of the season! I’m sorry that our relationship is still so unbelievable to you.”

Your aggravation must show on your face because Matteo holds up his hands appeasingly. “Look, I’m sure whatever you end up doing this summer will be great. But clearly this whole Charles charade has gone too far. It’s time to come clean.”

You stand up abruptly, grabbing your things. “I don’t need to come clean about anything. My relationship with Charles is real, whether you choose to believe it or not.”

You storm off fuming. Your friends’ outright refusal to even entertain the notion that you could be dating Charles is so patronizing and demeaning. Do they really think so little of you?

That night, you vent to Charles over FaceTime about the conversation.

“I just don’t get why it’s so hard for them to believe me! I know we’re not exactly a super conventional couple but it’s like they think I’m delusional,” you sigh.

Charles gives you a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry they’re being like this, mon cœur. But try not to let it upset you too much. We know the truth about our love. That’s what matters.”

You nod, cheered as always by his encouragement. “You’re right. I’m just so excited for our trip! Sailing around the Mediterranean with you all to myself? It’s going to be a dream.”

Charles grins. “Oh I can’t wait either. The yacht has a hot tub on deck under the stars. I want to make sure it’s just as magical as you deserve.”

You spend the rest of the call discussing your vacation itinerary and plans for when your families will join you in Sardinia.

Charles reassures you again not to worry about what others think.

“Soon we’ll share our love with the world. But for now, let’s just focus on us,” he says softly.

By the time you hang up, your frustration has faded. Matteo and Livia may not believe you but in a few short weeks you’ll be cruising the bright blue Mediterranean with the man of your dreams.

The day finally comes for your trip to begin. As Charles helps you aboard the sleek yacht, you forget all about your friends. They don’t know him like you do. And they definitely don’t know how he kisses you goodbye at the airport or the special way his eyes light up when he says “I love you.”

This vacation will be everything you’ve been dreaming of. And you know Charles will do whatever it takes to make it unforgettable.

As the yacht pulls away from the marina, the only thing on your mind is the blissful weeks ahead with your love. Everything else fades blissfully into the background.

***

You walk with the group of engineering students through the halls of Maranello, thrilled to be back at the Ferrari factory. You did your internship here last year but walking around still feels surreal.

As you pass the simulator room, you hear someone call your name.

“Y/N! Hold on a second!”

You turn and see Gianni, one of the simulator engineers you befriended during your internship. He jogs over holding a sleek black ring.

“Charles left this after his session the other day,” he presses the familiar band into your palm. “Can you get it back to him?” Gianni asks.

You grin, turning the ring over in your hands. Charles hates taking off his Oura fitness tracker but has to for simulator runs.

“Of course, I’ll give it back to him when I’m in Monaco.”

You turn back to your friends, expecting this to be the final push they need to believe you.

But Livia just rolls her eyes. “Come on Y/N, he is obviously in on this whole charade. I bet you convinced him to play along!”

The other students nod, chuckling. Your smile disappears.

“What? No, Gianni and I really worked together when I interned here! This isn’t some weird prank,” you insist.

Matteo pats your shoulder condescendingly. “It’s alright, you don’t have to keep pretending with us. We get it, you want people to think you’re dating Charles Leclerc. But it’s getting kind of sad now.”

You clench your fists in frustration as the group moves on. Why are they being so stubborn? You clearly know people here and have a real connection to Charles.

When you pass the aerodynamics lab, your mood lifts a bit. Your favorite team leader, Fabio, is there working on computational fluid dynamics simulations.

“Y/N! So great to see you back here!” He greets you warmly and pulls you into a friendly hug.

You chat with him for a few minutes, explaining about the visit. As you say goodbye, he adds, “Tell Charles I said hi when you see him this weekend!”

But Matteo just scoffs as you walk away. “Let me guess — he’s in on it too?”

You don’t even bother responding this time, too irritated. Why should you have to convince your so-called friends of anything? You don’t owe them proof when they’re clearly set on ignoring it.

As the tour concludes, Livia pulls you aside, her expression serious.

“Look Y/N, we’re a bit worried about you. All these stories ... it just seems unhealthy. We think you should talk to someone,” she says gently.

You gape at her. “Unhealthy? Because I mentioned my boyfriend a few times on a trip to his workplace? You guys are unbelievable.”

Livia frowns. “Come on, it’s more than that and you know it. The jewelry, the car, the traveling ... it’s all an elaborate fantasy life. We just want what’s best for you.”

You feel anger bubbling up inside you. Livia reaches for your arm but you jerk away.

“You want what’s best for me? Then start believing me! I love Charles and he loves me. I don’t need therapy just because you refuse to accept the facts,” you snap.

Livia looks taken aback. You don’t wait for her response, just turn on your heel and stalk away fuming.

You pull out your phone and call Charles, needing to vent. When he picks up, the sound of his voice instantly calms you.

Charles listens patiently as you recount the horrible field trip. “I’m so sorry they’re being like this, ma belle,” he soothes. “But you handled it well. Don’t let them make you question yourself.”

You sigh. “I just wish they could see how happy you make me. I hate that our love seems so unbelievable.”

“It’s their loss for not seeing what we have,” Charles replies. “Soon everyone will realize that I only have eyes for you.”

You chat for a while longer, feeling reassured. Your friends’ doubt used to make you sad but now it mostly just angers you.

You know the truth. This weekend when you fly to Monaco and fall asleep in Charles’ arms, what Matteo and Livia think won’t matter one bit.

The only thing that matters is the love between you and Charles.

And one day, both of you will make sure the whole world knows that it’s as real as it gets.

***

It’s Friday morning and you’re stuck in your Principles of Advanced Aerodynamics lecture, anxiously watching the clock.

The Italian Grand Prix weekend starts today but your professor refused to excuse you from class early. Which means you’re missing out on precious hours with Charles before free practice later today.

You resigned yourself to not seeing him until tonight when the classroom door bursts open.

And there stands Charles, looking unfairly handsome in a Ferrari branded polo and jeans.

“Sorry to interrupt professor,” Charles flashes a charming grin. “But I’m going to need to steal Y/N away for the weekend.”

He shoots you a playful wink and your heart melts.

Your classmates erupt in excited whispers as they realize that the Charles Leclerc is standing in front of them. Your professor’s lips are moving but no discernible sound comes out.

The professor struggles to find words for a moment. “You’re ... you’re Charles Leclerc!” He stammers.

Charles smiles humbly. “Yes sir. And as I’m sure you know, the free practice for the Italian Grand Prix starts today. I’ll need to have my good luck charm there with from the very start.”

He extends his hand to you.

You grab your bag, legs wobbling as you make your way to the front. Charles wraps a supportive arm around your waist.

“You see professor, Y/N is my biggest supporter. My results improve dramatically when she’s present. So surely any Ferrari fan would agree that she must be trackside all weekend?” Charles urges charmingly.

The professor nods mutely before seeming to find his voice again. “Yes, of course! We certainly want the best results for Ferrari here at home. Y/N, you’re excused for the day. If you give me just a moment ...” He rummages through his bag with shaking hands and pulls out a Ferrari phone case.

“Would you mind?” He asks sheepishly.

“Not at all,” Charles smiles, taking the case and scrawling his signature across it with a provided permanent marker.

Your professor looks ready to faint. “Thank you so much. Enjoy the race weekend. Forza Ferrari, sempre!”

Trying not to laugh, you quickly gather up the rest of your things. Your friends watch wide-eyed as Charles takes your hand.

“Ready, mon amour?” He asks.

When you nod, he sweeps you into his arms and kisses you passionately in front of the entire class.

“I missed you,” he murmurs against your lips.

You cling to him, dizzy from the kiss. “Not as much as I missed you. I can’t believe you came here just to pick me up.”

Charles caresses your cheek. “I’ll always come for you. Now let’s get going to Monza. I want to show you how much I appreciated your good luck texts before practice.”

He keeps your hand clasped firmly in his as you make your way outside. When you glance back through the windows, your classmates are still staring after you in stunned disbelief.

Once you’re in the familiar 488 Pista, you finally let out the laugh you’ve been suppressing. “Did you see the looks on everyone’s faces? I thought Professor Mancini was actually going to faint.”

Charles grins. “I know dramatic gestures aren’t usually my style but I wanted them to see once and for all that you’re mine.”

He lifts your intertwined hands to his lips. “No more doubting our love after today. And I meant what I said — you’re my good luck charm, Y/N. Having you here this weekend means everything.”

You smile up at him softly. “I’m just happy I can be here to support you.”

He kisses you deeply, still parked outside of the Politecnico, not caring who sees. And you know without a doubt that this amazing man and your once-in-a-lifetime romance are completely real.

The rest of the day flies by in a blur of excitement. In between practice sessions, Charles takes any chance he can to steal moments alone with you in his driver’s room.

His tender kisses and whispered reminders of his love send your heart racing faster than an F1 car.

***

It’s race day in Monza and you’re walking through the paddock hand-in-hand with Charles. His physio and press officer trail behind you both as Charles waves to the cheering Tifosi in the stands.

Suddenly, you hear voices calling your name.

You look over to see Matteo and Livia leaning over the fence, trying to get your attention.

“Y/N! We’re so sorry we didn’t believe you!” Livia shouts.

“Please come talk to us!” Yells Matteo. “We feel awful about everything!”

You stop short, conflicting emotions swirling through you. Charles senses your hesitation and squeezes your hand supportively.

“What do you want to do, mon cœur?” He asks. “I can try to get them paddock passes last minute if you want to talk.”

You bite your lip. Part of you wants them to witness first-hand the depth of your relationship with Charles. To show them just how wrong they were to mock and belittle your love.

But another part of you is still hurt by their stubborn refusal to believe you all this time. Do they really deserve VIP paddock access after the way they treated you?

“I don’t know, Charles ... they were so patronizing about our relationship for so long. I’m not sure they deserve the reward of paddock access after demeaning my feelings,” you reply.

Charles nods thoughtfully. “I understand. It’s completely up to you, of course. But it could be nice for them to see up close just how real our love is. Watching us together will help it finally sink in.”

You feel a smile tugging at your lips. Charles does make an appealing case ...

“Alright, I can’t say no to that adorable face,” you laugh and kiss his cheek. “But maybe keep them waiting a bit first as payback!”

Charles grins mischievously. “I think that can be arranged.” He pulls you in for a passionate kiss, dipping you backwards dramatically.

The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles, a wild and beautiful sea of Rosso Corsa.

When you come up for air, you see your friends watching open-mouthed from the stands. Charles winks at them over your shoulder before leading you away, his arm curled firmly around your waist.

Several hours later, Matteo and Livia finally receive their paddock passes. They rush over to you right away, profusely apologizing again.

“Seeing you and Charles together in class was unbelievable, but this ...” Matteo trails off, darting around at the bustling paddock with wide eyes. “You really are dating an F1 driver!”

You exchange an amused look with Charles. “Yes, that is what I’ve been trying to tell you for many months now,” you laugh.

Livia hugs you tightly. “I’m so sorry for ever doubting you. But after today, we’ll never question your relationship again.”

Charles wraps an arm around your shoulder. “I hope after witnessing our love up close, you will see there is nothing Y/N wouldn’t do for me, just as I would do the same for her.” He gazes down at you tenderly and you feel your heart skip a beat.

You and Charles both laugh as your friends turn red. “We’re really happy for you two,” mumbles Matteo. “Hopefully we can all start over now.”

Charles smiles kindly. “Of course! Y/N’s happiness is what matters most to me and I know how important her friends are to her.”

You feel yourself falling even more in love with this man and his endless patience and compassion.

The race keeps you on the edge of your seat from start to finish. When Charles takes the top step on the podium, you and your friends scream loudly enough to be heard in Milan.

That night at the celebration, Charles gives a sweet toast about how your love inspires him.

Matteo and Livia watch with tears in their eyes.

“Wow, when you said your boyfriend was romantic, you really meant it,” Livia whispers.

“I told you, Charles is one-of-a-kind. I’m so lucky to be his and to be loved by him.”

Charles comes over and pulls you into his arms, nuzzling your hair. “I’m the lucky one, mon ange.”

He stops and takes both of your hands, gazing into your eyes intently. “I never want you to doubt what we have, Y/N. You are everything to me. My whole world.”

Matteo shakes his head in wonder as he takes in the pure love clearly shining in both of your eyes. “We’re so sorry we ever doubted that what you have is real. Seeing you together, it’s obvious your love is straight out of a fairytale.”

You grin up at Charles, your heart overflowing. With his kisses still lingering on your lips and surrounded by friends who finally believe, you feel like the luckiest girl in the world.

Now everyone can see your love just as clearly as the two of you always have.

***

Today is the day you’ve been working towards for years — your graduation from the Politecnico di Milano with your Laurea Magistrale in Aeronautical Engineering.

The auditorium is packed with proud families as you line up with your classmates, dressed in formal robes and caps. Charles insisted on coming, despite it being right before the start of a triple header. And having him here means the world to you.

When your name is called, you grin widely as Charles’ cheers rise above the polite applause of the audience. He gives you a standing ovation, not caring that he is blocking everyone’s view.

His pride and support brings happy tears to your eyes. You blow him a discreet kiss and see him pretend to catch it, pressing his hand to his heart.

After the ceremony ends, you rush straight into Charles’ arms. He swings you around then kisses you deeply. “I’m so proud of you, mon amour! All of your hard work has paid off.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed with emotions. “Having you here today, supporting me every step ... it’s the best gift I could ask for.”

Charles strokes your hair tenderly. “I wouldn’t have missed this for anything. But I do have one more surprise ...”

He reaches into his pocket and pulls out an envelope with the unmistakable Ferrari seal.

Handing it to you, Charles bounces excitedly on his toes. “Go on, open it!”

With shaking hands, you open the letter and read the words offering you a position as a Junior Aerodynamics Engineer with Scuderia Ferrari.

“Charles, what ... how ...” you stammer in shock.

He smiles widely. “Enrico Cardile was very impressed with the work you did during your internship as well as your thesis.”

You continue staring at the letter. “But I don’t want special treatment just because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn a position at Ferrari on my own merits,” you say uncertainly.

Charles grasps your hands. “Mon ange, you know I would never influence the team’s decisions. They want you because of your skills, not our relationship. I only asked if I could deliver the news as a graduation gift when I found out.”

You bite your lip. “It’s just ... I don’t want anyone thinking that I didn’t earn this.”

“Listen to me,” Charles quickly gets serious. “You are the most talented, driven, and intelligent person I know. You’ve worked relentlessly for this and Ferrari recognizes that. Please don’t doubt for one second that you deserve this.”

His sincere words dissolve your concerns. He’s right — you interned successfully with the team already. You can do this.

You throw your arms around him again. “Then I accept the offer! I’m going to be a Formula 1 aerodynamicist!”

“You will be incredible, Y/N. I can’t wait to see you thriving there. You’re going to change the world with that beautiful mind of yours.”

You cling to him, overwhelmed with emotions. “I couldn’t have done any of this without your love and support. You gave me the strength to keep pursuing my dreams.”

Charles tips your forehead to his, eyes shining. “And you gave me the gift of true love. My life is so much richer with you in it.”

He kisses you until you’re both smiling too widely to continue. Taking his hand, you turn to look out at the gathered families, classmates, and professors mingling around.

Just months ago, no one believed your relationship with Charles was real. But here you stand, ready to take on the world together.

Your storybook romance has grown into an unshakable partnership.

As Charles squeezes your hand, you know that the next chapter of your lives will be even better. You can’t wait to build your future with this amazing man — both on and off the track.

***

10 years later

You take a deep breath as you walk into the familiar lecture hall at the Politecnico di Milano. Looking out at the eager young students, you remember sitting in their place not so long ago. Back when you were just starting your engineering studies, never dreaming you would one day return as a guest lecturer.

Charles insisted on coming with you today and you scan the room until you spot him sitting inconspicuously in the back row, trying his hardest not to draw attention to himself. He gives you an encouraging thumbs up.

“Good morning, everyone. For those who don’t know me, I am Y/N Leclerc — Head of Aero Development at Scuderia Ferrari and former student right here at Polimi.”

As you start your lecture on the aerodynamic theory behind Ferrari’s latest championship-winning car, you easily slip back into the familiar rhythms of university life.

Discussing complex simulations and wind tunnel testing with these eager minds reminds you of the days you were in their shoes.

You can hardly believe it’s been 10 years since you sat in this very room, never imagining the incredible journey ahead.

After joining Ferrari, you and Charles found ways to balance your personal and professional lives through compassion and communication.

Winning your first World Championship together was a euphoric blur of champagne and ecstatic team celebrations. Being the first female Director of Aerodynamics in Formula 1 was daunting but Charles never stopped believing in you.

When he got down on one knee after winning in Monza and asked you to be his wife, it was one of the happiest moments of your life. Planning a wedding while chasing championships was no easy feat but your passion for racing and each other kept you going.

Now, five championships later, you’ve settled into a blissful rhythm as partners both on and off the track. There were tough times and painful losses but coming home to each other’s arms helped erase the remnants of any bad day.

As you wrap up the lecture and open the floor to questions, a female student raises her hand. “As a woman working in F1, what’s the best advice you can give aspiring engineers like me?”

You smile, thinking back on your own self-doubts starting out. “Don’t be afraid to take up space and make your voice heard,” you tell her. “Formula 1 needs more brilliant women like you. If you love the science and the cars, pursue this career fiercely no matter what anyone says.”

The student thanks you excitedly and you make a mental note to talk to Charles about establishing an engineering scholarship for female students.

After the lecture finishes, Charles comes up to greet you with a tender kiss. “You were incredible up there. I’m so proud to call you my wife.”

You kiss him back, still just as dizzyingly in love as that first date all those years ago. “I couldn’t have done it without my biggest cheerleader here supporting me.”

As you walk hand-in-hand back to the car, you think about how far you’ve come together.

A storybook romance, successful careers, and most importantly, an unbreakable partnership built on love and trust.

When Charles said your love would overcome any doubt, you never imagined how right he would be.

But now, as the Italian sunlight glints off your matching wedding bands, you know the best is still yet to come.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Code of Conduct 4

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as cheating, noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss has a difficult time keeping his personal life from bleeding into his work. 

Characters: Steve Rogers, this reader is known as Rosie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“Are you sure you want to keep working?” You ask Mr. Rogers as you bring in the printed report he requested. 

“Yeah, can’t really go home...” he mutters as he takes the report with a brittle smile. 

“I guess, but you could... take some time for yourself. I can call your one o’clock,” you offer. 

“Rosie, you’re wonderful. But I need the distraction.” 

“Okay, I—can I get you anything? A tea? When I feel down, I have this lavender chamomile in my desk that helps me feel better.” 

He looks at you, his blue eyes sparkling. You really can’t handle him crying. His eyes are already pink and puffy from the tears he hid in his closed office. 

“You’re so sweet,” he sniffs. 

“Look that over and I’ll steep the tea,” you insist. 

You leave him before your ingrained sympathy can have you joining his pity party. You feel awful for him but lost too. You’re not sure how to handle all this. Relationships have always been a bit of a mystery to you. You have lot of friends but never found anyone to be more than. 

You take your time in the break room. You smell like vinaigrette. It’s another reminder of the chaotic morning. The kettle pops and you pour the water over the tea bag. You bob it up and down with the string and make your way back to Mr. Roger’s office. 

He thanks you as you set it down and warn him it’s hot. He runs his thumb up and down the edge of a page then looks up at you.  

“Anything else, sir?” 

“You... you said you feel down sometimes?” He asks. 

“Oh, well, yeah, but everyone does.” 

“But... about what? Why would you feel down?” He lowers the stapled papers onto the desk. 

“Just... things, sir. Nothing big. It’s just the way people are.” 

“You-- you have everything, Rosie. You’re so bright and bubbly. What could make you sad?” He pivots his chair towards you. “Who do I gotta give a talking to around here?” 

“No one, sir. Really. I guess I just need a pick-me-up from time to time.” 

He nods and looks down. You hover on the other side of his desk. You should get back to work but you don’t know if you should leave him. 

“I get lonely too.” He lifts his chin up. “Even when Peggy’s right next to me. I get it.” 

“Sir?” 

“You said you’re not married, right? I—I'm sorry if I assumed--” he cringes. “Wow, I’m so embarrassing.” 

“It’s... it’s fine. I have friends and we have lots of fun. My friend Missie, she’s really cool. She lies to tie-dye. We do that sometimes. And you,” you perk up, “you have Mr. Barnes, right? He told me that you twohave known each other forever.” 

“He told you that?” Rogers tilts his head. 

“Well, sure, he’s a bit chatty when he stops by.” 

“He is?” A brow arches curiously and ripples his forehead. “I shouldn’t be surprised. You’re so easy to talk to. Even with someone like him.” 

“Erm, I guess. I just try to see the positive. You know. Um, I don’t mean to presume because I can’t begin to know but I know Peggy loves you. And you have a good job and you can fix this, Mr. Rogers. You could try counselling or I don’t know. Like I said, I don’t know much,” you shrug. 

“We did counselling,” he picks up the mug and blows the steam away, inhaling the scent. “She stormed out of that too. We’ve tried a lot of things. A second honeymoon, a vow renewal, everything.” He looks down and his shoulders slump. He looks tiny even though he’s a big man. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean to overstep.” 

“You didn’t,” he inhales and pushes his shoulders straight. “You’re right, I can do something. I can put myself first. I think... I think I need to look into leaving.” 

You blink. You’re speechless. It feels like too much. Not his suggestion, just that he’s saying it to you. You’re fine getting him coffee and sorting his schedule but you haven’t been trained for this. 

“You should do what’s best for you, sir.” 

He nods and tastes the tea. “It’s good, Rose,” He sets the cup down. “Thanks. You’re... you’re too good to me.” 

“It’s just tea. I’ll let you enjoy it in peace and I gotta get back to it.” You smile. “Let me know if you need anything else.” 

“Will do,” he utters glumly. 

You slowly turn away and stride out. You feel a tugging in your stomach. Like guilt. You feel bad leaving him like that. Yet, you don’t know what else you can do for him. Missie would know. She always knows how to make things better. Maybe you could ask her but it’s a long story. 

Hm. 

You take out your phone and open up the conversation. You giggle at the kitten pictures she sent you last night. It takes several attempts to get it right; ‘hey, Miss, what would you do for someone going through a break-up? Tryna do something nice. Thx <3’ 

You’re sure she’ll come up with something, even without all the details. You tuck your phone away and turn back to your screen. As you do, an email pings into Mr. Rogers’ inbox.  

You click on it and open the attachment. The legal letterhead has your blood cold. Before you can react, you hear Mr. Rogers exclaim.

Oh no, he’s already seen it. Divorce papers. 

[undeadcannibal]

Could you do headcannon of the Taskforce 141 boys having a civilian fem!spouse? I’m not a soldier so I am curious to see what they are like and how they meet said spouse. ❤️

Summary: Headcanons for how Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz meet their civilian SO

Genre: Headcanons, request(s) Characters featured: Price, Soap, Ghost, and Gaz!

Warnings: none!

A/N: Hopefully you enjoy these! I had fun coming up with different ways they’d meet ‘em. ( Gif credit: xxx )

Price―

He’d be in the middle of a discussion with some of his friends when one of them casually mentions the name of a dating app that’s supposedly hot right now.

At first, he doesn’t care. Reassures himself he’s too old and busy to waste his time with such a thing... until he has a rough night during his downtime. Loneliness weighing heavily on him to the point he finds himself downloading the damn app during a moment of weakness.

At first, he doesn’t use it much. His profile is simple: he’ll post a few photos of himself, vaguely mention what he does for a living, what he’s looking for. And that’s that for a few months. Whenever he had the time, he’d swipe through a couple profiles here and there, but nothing serious had ever come from it.

Until 6 months later, when he finds himself humoring that deep ache in his heart, browsing through profile after profile until he lands on yours.

He knows better than to be fooled by looks, but he’d also be a liar if he said that he wasn’t smitten with you the moment he’d laid eyes on your photo. With a swipe, he silently hopes that the two of you will match, and when you eventually do, he’s over the moon but plays it as cool as he possibly can.

When he takes you out after talking for a while, he properly wines and dines you, doesn’t even kiss you after the first date either. Instead, he’d taken your hand in his and kissed it before asking if he can take you out again.

It takes a few years, but when he proposes, he goes all out in every way possible but makes sure to keep it all private. He can’t stand public proposals.

Soap―

He was home for the holiday season when he’d met you in a super market. You’d looked as lost as ever when browsing the food, so he couldn’t help but ask if you were okay. You mentioned that you were shopping for a relative but weren’t local so you had no idea where to even begin.

He’d helped you grab everything you needed before he felt a rush of anxiety hit him like a train. He’ll never understand what drove him to feel as if he couldn’t let you go without at least asking for your number, but he was thankful for it for the rest of his life.

You’d talk to one another over the phone throughout your entire stay and long afterwards too... By the time the holidays are rolling around again, the two of you had been long-distance for quite sometime, but it’d be the first time seeing you in person after so long. After spending the holiday together between both of your homes, Johnny can’t help but want to keep you in his life for as long as you’ll allow it.

2 years down the line, the two of you are visiting his family again when he decided to propose to you, and when you accepted, best believe both him and his family were excited and quick to initiate a group hug in celebration.

Ghost―

When Simon is off duty, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He struggles with finding things to keep himself occupied while he’s home. Stress and other emotions make even the simplest of tasks difficult for him. So, over time, he’d developed a habit of heading down to a local park to try and relax. Sometimes he’d take a book, other times he simply sat at a bench and allowed himself to get lost in his own mind. Mostly, he’d sit in silence and just enjoy watching the world pass him by.

One day when he’s walking over to his usual bench, he sees you there with a book in one hand and a drink in another. Captivated by the words on the page to the point that you don’t even notice him when he sits down on the opposite end of it, not saying a word or even glancing at you afterward. Instead, he simply watches you out of his peripheral vision. Wondering what you’re reading that has you so engaged.

He didn’t speak to you then. Instead, he’d allowed it to happen a few more times until you finally broke the silence between you two. Glancing up at him from behind your book with a shy smile as you introduced yourself to him. Behind a dark disposable mask, Ghost’s lips quirk upwards into the smallest of grins, thankful that you’d taken initiative. After you greet him, you do your best to make the occasional small-talk before you’ve to leave.

The same thing happens a few more times before he finds himself purchasing a burner phone just so he can give you a number to reach him at.

From there, the two of you would get to know one another better, sharing park dates together before you began to suggest other types of dates. Next thing Simon knew, the two of you were officially together and he was absolutely mad about you, thinking about you every second of his days. Despite the fact, he’s a complicated man with a lot of baggage, so he takes his time with your relationship.

4 years later, he’s the one to beat you to the punch and proposing to you in the very same park you met at after he takes you on a picnic.

Gaz―

IMO, Gaz seems like the type to frequent a coffee shop/cafe he enjoys to the point he’s basically a regular. Has his own favorite table, order, and everything. That is, until one day he arrives a bit later than usual and he sees you sitting there.

Normally, he would have just let you have the table but before he could even turn away to find another one, you were asking him if everything was alright. He couldn’t find it in himself to say yes and turn away. Instead, he somehow manages to not only ask if you two can share the table, but give you a dazzling smile after he does so as well. Taking special notice in how you had blushed afterward.

He wouldn’t ask you out right away. Instead, he’d build up to it. Gives you his number that first day so you two can get to know one another better while he’s off duty. He has to head back for another mission soon, but rest assured whenever he has any time off and it’s safe to do so, he’s spending all of his free time messaging and calling you. Getting to know you better.

Eventually, after the two of you have spent a few unofficial coffee dates together, he works up the courage to ask you out on a proper date. He’s upfront - but vague - about what he does and how it can affect his free time, but thankfully, you never cared. Instead, you’re just happy he finally asked you out after months of beating around the bush.

After your first date together, it’s all downhill from there. He’d fallen head-over-heels for you to the point even his fellow Task Force members noticed and teased him about it. Even more so after he’d gush about how he swears “you’re the one”

Little did they know by the end of the next year, the two of you would be engaged~

[the-boy-meets-evil]

right where you left me | ksy & jww

(where you're in an open relationship with soonyoung, who doesn't want to come on your family christmas vacation. it's okay. you run into your ex at the resort anyway.)

pairing: soonyoung (hoshi) x f.reader, ex!wonwoo x f.reader genre: est. relationships, exes to lovers to ??, love triangles | smut, angst??, fluff word count: ~8.6k (yeah, idk either) warnings: open relationship (implied, not explicitly discussed), wonwoo and soonyoung both know about each other (but never actually interact), reader goes away with family for the holidays, mentions of christmas (including christmas dinner), mentions of drinking, soonyoung is soft for reader, wonwoo just wants a second chance, one (1) holy spirit joke, reader does make a choice at the end, smut warnings under the cut

a/n: this is for the amazing and wonderful @beomcoups from your secret santa, blitzen, for @kpopsecretsanta 💕 summer, i already knew you were actually the best. so, it's been really fun getting to send you asks and come up with something for you. i hope you like it (and i'm so sorry it got this long). this is honestly not where i meant for this to go. ily and merry (belated) christmas! thank you to @wooahaeproductions (once again) for giving me a title and to my bby @wongyuseokie for the beautiful banner so last minute.

a/n 2: i'm for real taking a writing break now because december has been busy 😂

tagging: @aaniag, @gyuminusone, @horanghater

smut warnings: multiple smut scenes, lots of kissing, so many orgasms, so much cum (i'm sorry), dirty talk, spit as lube (just for handjobs), handjobs, blowjobs, implied edging, vaginal fingering, protected sex (yay!), implied/referenced phone sex, kind of dom!wonwoo, kind of switch!reader, wonwoo is bossy, oral sex (f. receiving), begging, slight hair pulling, slight nipple play, choking, unprotected sex (don't do this), fucking from behind, pulling out, cum on the back/ass, referenced marking, referenced restraints, pet names (doll, sweetheart, babydoll, baby), probably teasing somewhere, i think that's it (i swear there's plot in there too)

“Are you all packed?” 

Soonyoung is stretched out on your bed, watching you search through your closet. You sigh when you can’t find the one sweater you’re looking for.

“Almost,” you say. 

“It’s on the drying rack in your spare bedroom,” he says. 

You spin around to look at him, eyebrow raised. “What?”

“That sweater you love? The one you pull out the second it’s cool enough?” Soonyoung prompts. 

You give him a look, but don’t say anything. Instead, you walk into the other room and find he’s right. The last thing you want to throw into your suitcase is actually exactly where he said. You check that it’s dry before retrieving it to fold and tuck away. 

“How?” you ask when you reenter the room. 

He just shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I know you pretty well.”

That tugs at your heartstrings a little, especially this time of year. Because it’s true. Hardly anyone knows you as well as the beautiful man sprawled on your bed, scrolling through his phone. Yet, he’s also the one that seems to hurt you the most. Always exactly where you need him to be, but never quite within reach. This kind, wonderful human that surprises you with things that remind him of you, but can’t (or won’t) come with you for the holidays to a beautiful, snow-covered resort. It’s not worth bringing up again…

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” you ask.

…but you do anyway. Like the sucker for pain you are. Like somehow the answer is going to change from the last time you asked.

This does make him look up, at least. It’s hard to see the look he gives you. It’s a little comforting that he does look sorry. Not quite enough to ease the ache in your heart. That’s neither here nor there, though.

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea,” he answers. 

“I know,” you sigh. 

And you do know. Your relationship with Soonyoung happened out of nowhere. When you were trying desperately to heal over the worst heartbreak you could imagine and he happened to be there. Maybe that’s why you feel this inexplicable draw to him, even now. Because he was the one to help you put the pieces back together, the one to let you know that you weren’t asking for something unreasonable from your ex, that it was okay to make whatever type of life you wanted for yourself. Over time, you felt yourself getting more attached and let it happen, even knowing it was the wrong choice. Not because Soonyoung is wrong or anything short of great. It’s just, well, he’s always been honest, sometimes painfully so, about exactly who he is and what he wants. He’s just not sure, at least right now, that a closed relationship where he meets the parents is what he wants. 

An open relationship hadn’t been something you considered. It still wasn’t a consideration when you first started sleeping with Soonyoung. It wasn’t until you realized you wanted more of him that you had to have the conversation. Which is how you’re here, now. Going to see your parents and the rest of your family for a beautiful vacation alone despite being in a relationship. Despite him having met some of your family, like your cousins, and the number of dates you go on. Sometimes it really is enough. Not because you’re telling yourself it is. It just is. He comes up with the most thoughtful dates. Surprises you with little things just because. He’s so insanely thoughtful. So, maybe it’s enough that he doesn’t want to come meet your parents.

“Come here,” he requests, opening his arms for you. 

You sigh before giving in and snuggling into him on the bed. He plants a soft kiss on the top of your head first, then your temple. You settle against his chest, timing your own breathing with the rise and fall of his chest. There’s something so comforting about lying like this. Something that makes it easier to be honest when you’re not looking into his incredibly soft eyes.

“I do get it, Soonie,” you repeat softly. “This makes sense for us and I don’t want that to change. I don’t need my parents getting involved.”

“Maybe next year,” he says and that pulls you up short. He’s never said that before. You can’t really help it, you pull away to look into his eyes. “I like being around you and neither of us has been seeing many other people lately. So maybe it’s something we can talk about in the new year.” 

“I don’t want it to be anything that you feel…” you start and he presses a kiss to your lips.

“I don’t,” he assures you. “And you’re still free to do whatever you want, obviously. I don’t even know what it might look like. Just, I don’t know, I figure maybe after the holidays we can figure out if anything changes here.” 

“Yeah, I’d like that,” you agree. 

“But for today…” he says, drifting off as his eyes roam over your body.

“You’re exhausting,” you complain.

“You tried on Christmas dresses in front of me! I’ve been here suffering thinking that I won’t get to slide that material off your soft skin,” he says and kisses your shoulder. “Sitting here neglected as I watched you pack away skirts and those pants that make your ass look amazing.” 

“You’re not neglected,” you tease as he presses a long kiss to your neck. 

“I’m wasting away from the lack of attention,” he whines.

“Hm, is that right?” you ask. 

“It is,” he concludes. 

“Well, we can’t have that,” you say low, running your hand down his stomach. 

“Don’t you have to leave soon?” he asks, stuttering when your hand runs over his cock through his pants. You rub him ever so gently, delighting in the way he reacts.

“I can stop if you want,” you suggest. 

“You know I don’t want you to, but…” he starts and trails off when you move your hand towards his waistband.

“I’m driving, Soon, I can be a little late. I’ll just blame traffic,” you say.

“Fuck it,” he curses. 

You drag his pants and briefs down in one motion, freeing his cock. You remember the first time you fucked him, when he was nervous that you were going to be somehow disappointed. He couldn’t have been more wrong. Not only is he the perfect size, but he has a way of moving his hips while fucking you that’s always drives you crazy.

There isn’t time for you to be walking down memory lane, though. You spit into your hand so that you can start stroking him, delight in how he’s already a little hard. Maybe he wasn’t lying about the torture of watching you try on clothes. After all, you did catch him adjusting on the bed a time or two. It’s not enough for you, just stroking him and listening to all the beautiful sounds that he makes. Before he even realizes what’s happening, you’re taking him into your mouth. Swirling your tongue around the tip and carefully massaging his balls with your free hand. You hollow your cheeks when you take as much of him into your mouth as you can. Carefully sucking while you bob your head on his cock, running a hand up and down the base as you continue to work on him. 

“Fuck, that mouth is so good,” he whines. “Oh my god! Ugh, yes!” 

One of the things you like about Soonyoung is times like this, where he doesn’t need to be in control. Where he just lets you take care of him. Lets you make him feel good. Just completely turns to putty in your hands. He’s muttering obscenities about how much he loves your mouth, how you know just what to do, how you’re cruel for bringing him to the edge and then backing off. You may not have enough time, but you also can’t really stop yourself. 

“You’re gonna make me come if you keep that up,” Soonyoung warns. 

You pull up off him just for a second to fix him with a look. “Kinda the point, isn’t it?” 

“Not if it means I don’t get to fuck you,” he answers and pulls off his shirt. 

Okay, you can take the hint. You quickly strip off all your clothes and move up to lie on your side facing him. He captures your lips in a kiss and quickly puts a hand between your legs. No time to waste. He runs his fingers along your entrance, collecting the wetness there and groaning, probably at how you’re wet just from blowing him. When he slides a finger inside your cunt, you want to pull away from the kiss. Instead, you just moan into his mouth, spurring him to pump his finger into you faster. Another moan and he presses a second finger in. 

When you first started fucking Soonyoung, you were a little embarrased about several things when it came to sex. One had been how wet you get. He had been so quick with the praise, so quick to assure you that it was a good thing, so quick to make you comfortable. Now, you barely even think about it. Everything with him is effortless, comfortable. It’s entirely too fast when you feel like you’re already starting to come undone. 

“God, I love watching that pussy suck my fingers in,” he says. “So good for me, so greedy.”

“Fuck, Soon, hang on,” you pant out.

“Feeling good?” he asks.

“Yeah but you’re gonna make me come,” you whine. 

“Isn’t that the point?” he parrots back.

“Thought you wanted to fuck me,” you remind him.

He removes his fingers from your cunt entirely too quickly so he can roll over to reach the drawer. With surprising speed, he pulls a condom out and has it on in a matter of seconds. You’re about to ask how he wants you when he rolls back over and hikes one of your legs up. This is a new position for the two of you, surprising with how many you’ve tried. There’s something a little intimate, facing each other like this with your leg up over his arm. His brows furrow a little as he lines himself up. 

“Oh god,” you moan out when he presses all the way in, right off the bat. Even with the prepping, it’s more of a stretch than you were expecting so fast.

“You okay?” he asks. Even though he wants it to be fast, he’s still so considerate.

“Yes, just fucking move, please,” you whine.

“So needy,” he says, but he still moves. 

It’s fast and a little desperate and the angle has him hitting you just where you want him. It doesn’t feel awkward in this position, either, which crossed your mind for a second. You’re clinging to any part of him that you can, moaning incoherently, about to come undone in a stupidly short time. But, he’s babbling too, uttering praises for how good he feels, reminding you how amazing you are. He’s so vocal and it’s what sends you over the edge. He follows right behind you.

You lay on your back and take a few moments to catch your breath. Watch him as he gets up to dispose of the condom. Smile when he comes back and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead. He’s so pretty like this, glowing and smiley and perfectly content. So are you, apparently, as he tells you constantly.

“You have to go because I have to shower and I don’t want to have to shower again after that,” you say when you get up.

“But, what if I want round two?” he asks, drawing you in against his body. 

You lean your head to press a kiss to his lips and carefully pull away. “Then, you’ll just have to wait til I’m back.”

“Thought you didn’t mind being late,” he presses.

“A little late,” you say and laugh at the pout. “You’re cute, Soonie, but I still have to go.”

“Fine,” he sighs. “You’ll be back before New Year’s?”

“Yeah, for the party,” you confirm. 

“I’ll miss you,” he whispers into your hair. The kiss he presses to the top of your head nearly has your knees weak. Instead, you just smile as he leaves and rush off to the shower before you get in the car. 

The resort your parents picked this year for the holidays is beautiful. There’s a main resort and also a bunch of smaller buildings with rooms that are more like condos. Your parents are staying in a particularly roomy one, because they love to host, so you don’t feel too stuck by staying with them. It’s also nice because the resort is attached to a ski lodge. You can actually ski straight from the rooms onto one of the trails. It’s all beautiful and you feel incredibly at peace. 

(You also appreciate how there are plenty of things to do for people that don’t like to ski or snowboard. Not that you don’t, you’re just sometimes a little worried you’ll fall.)

The first night was just for relaxing after the ride up. The four hour drive ended up going a lot faster with your cousin in the passenger seat, thankful you hadn’t actually left yet because her car broke down. Even though you don’t live far apart, you feel like you don’t see her nearly often enough. So the car ride is a nice way to catch up. 

Now that it’s the first full day, you’re ready to explore a little bit. Your parents mentioned a little cafe in the lodge that sounds like the perfect place to get a cup of coffee. Of course, you could make it in the room, but it probably wouldn’t taste as good. Bundled up, you head down to the lodge and look out for the cafe. It ends up being pretty easy to find. And it’s not the only thing. 

It’s like a pull that you can’t explain, the way your eyes fall on someone sitting in an armchair just to the side of the cafe. His dark hair has that slightly tousled look, probably from being outside, and his glasses keep sliding down his nose. As you watch, he absently pushes them back up, eyes glued on the book in his lap. There is no world where it makes sense that he’s here and also no world where he could be anyone else. You’re debating whether or not to approach him when he looks up. The smile he sends your way has you feeling things that you know you shouldn’t. 

Your feet carry you towards him without permission and he rises to meet you part way. “Hey, what are you…” 

At the same time, he starts to say, “wow, small world.”

It’s a little awkward (read: a lot) and neither of you really know what to say. It’s been two years since you last saw each other, two years since you last spoke, two years since the break up that nearly tore you apart. Even though it’s been long enough that you feel better about it, it’s still awkward. He probably feels it too, the uncertainty of running into each other someplace so unexpected. The question of how to move forward. 

“So, um, this is…” Wonwoo starts.

“Awkward? Weird? Unexpected?” you offer through a forced laugh.

“What are you doing here?” he asks.

“My family is here for Christmas,” you answer. “Yours too?” 

“Yeah,” he says. 

“Right,” you say. “Well, I was just going to get…”

“Can we talk? Maybe over lunch or something?” he asks just as you’re ready to turn around. 

You’re rooted to the spot, unable to answer him right away. Can you? Yes, you definitely have that capability. Should you? That’s a bit harder to answer. Your brain is full of images of your past relationship - the good, the bad, the ugly - and your current situation. Maybe Wonwoo still does know you, at least well enough to read your face, because he speaks up again.

“Never mind, that was silly to ask,” he says.

“No, it wasn’t. I’m sorry. I’m just, I don’t know, a little overwhelmed, I guess,” you admit.

“Me too, if it helps,” he says. 

You look down at your watch. It’s a little earlier than you usually eat lunch, but maybe that’ll be a good thing. “Do you wanna get something now?”

“What about your coffee?” Wonwoo asks.

“I’m sure the restaurant has some,” you say before you lose the courage. 

Lunch is actually surprisingly easy. Well, after you get some of the awkwardness out of the way. But, it gives you a chance to say a lot of things you both kept to yourselves. Back when you were dating Wonwoo, it got harder until it was too much. He was always soft spoken, always afraid to burden anyone else with his problems. Even when you reminded him that’s what partners were for, he just kept most of it to himself. Which wasn’t healthy for either of you. You wanted things out in the open so you could talk about them, he kept them to himself. Something tiny could fester into something much bigger and then become a real issue. Even when it came to issues at work or with other friends, he was hesitant to mention it. By not wanting to be a burden, he ended up driving a massive wedge between you. And he’s able to share things with you, too. Like how it wasn’t always easy to want to share when he felt pressured. He knows you only cared, but sometimes he wasn’t ready. Sometimes he couldn’t talk about it in the moment and just needed a day to process. Something he knows that he should have shared with you, as well. 

It turns into a much longer meal than either of you expect. After talking about your relationship, you fill in the last two years. He talks about work and friends and reluctantly admits that he hasn’t dated anyone seriously since you. When it’s your turn, you stumble over explaining Soonyoung, ending up opting for full transparency. If he’s surprised, he hides it well. Seems to understand that trying something a little different can be exactly what you need. When you finally check your phone to see you’re running late to meet your cousins, you say goodbye with a promise to hang out again. And an assurance that you haven’t changed your number and he isn’t blocked. 

You spend most of the afternoon playing games with your cousins and sharing what you’ve been up to. The cousin that rode with you, and knows Wonwoo the best, is nearly on the floor when you tell her that he’s here somehow. Especially because she also knows Soonyoung and likes him, but thinks he’s not the long term plan for you. She’s a little surprised, given how much you smiled about seeing Wonwoo, at how fiercely you defend Soonyoung. It’s just, well, he’s been a lot for you in so many ways. Yes, some of it has been painful and some of it has involved learning things you’re not sure you needed to. But, it’s also been safe and protected. It’s allowed you to grow in ways you never expected. 

An afternoon of gaming turns into a night of dinner in the suite, more games, and drinking. Your cousin takes your phone and texts Wonwoo from it. Invites him over to the room to pick you up. Of course, she doesn’t tell you any of that. But, when you answer the door and see your ex on the other side, he suggests you check your phone. You shoot your cousin a look and grab your coat. He’s here, so you might as well go with him. When he holds out his hand for you, you take it and follow him into the night. 

The next days pass in a kind of haze. It’s so pretty to be at the resort, watching the way snow seems to fall more often than not, even if it’s just a light flurry for 20 minutes. There’s a beautiful, tucked away corner of the lodge where you can sit in rocking chairs by floor to ceiling windows. It gives you a perfect vantage point to watch the snow, or watch people coming down trails, watch anything. You’re with Wonwoo more than your own family, a fact that nobody seems to talk about. Maybe because everyone liked Wonwoo and nobody really understood why it ended. You hadn’t wanted to talk about it. And now it doesn’t seem to matter. The man before you isn’t the same boy that you walked away from two years ago. You’re not the same either. Both of you get a lot of time nestled away in the cocoon of the holiday vacation to talk about that. To talk about who you are now and where you want to be. About if things would turn out differently now.

It’s all kind of a practiced dance, though, because Wonwoo knows that Soonyoung exists. He knows that there’s someone you’re not really ready to let go that may be waiting for you to get back to have an important conversation. (He is waiting for you, but you don’t tell Wonwoo that. Because it may not be in the way you wish he was waiting for you. What you do know is that he’s been sending you a lot of messages. There are a lot of things that seem to remind him of you. So, he’s constantly on your mind.) And there are some things that haven’t changed about Wonwoo, too. One of those things is that he doesn’t really find the idea of sharing a partner appealing. Even though he’s one of the most secure people you know, you can also tell what he thinks about the complication of your current situation. There’s no judgment, only more hurdles. It’s like he wants you to consider giving him another shot, but he doesn’t really know where to start. 

Since Christmas Eve and Christmas morning are for family, you get a much needed break from having Wonwoo around constantly. Not that you mind, it’s just that your head needs a little space. You need to figure out what exactly you want. Which isn’t really any easier when you’re separated from your ex, sadly. Both he and Soonyoung are still fighting for space. Your thoughts are kind of a jumbled mess. 

(It doesn’t help that Soonyoung calls you on Christmas Eve. Or that the call turns into FaceTime and that turns into the two of you getting off. Phone sex wasn’t ever really something you were into before him. You didn’t really get the appeal of it. But, you’ve seen the positives of it with him. Still can’t really believe how easy it is for him to push you over the edge when he’s not even with you. And you kind of like knowing you do the same to him, seeing his cum paint his stomach after he finishes. He gets a little sappy after he comes, too. When you’re both cleaned up, he’s still there. Telling you that he misses you and that the city feels a little lonely without you there. It’s not like you haven’t left before, but this just feels different to him. He says it all without seeming to think much about it and you’re not really sure how to take it. Is it honest? Or is it the post orgasm haze?) 

But, after Christmas dinner, you’re on your own to do whatever you want. And you know what you don’t need to do. You know that you don’t need to make this whole mess inside your head more complicated than it already is. You do really miss Soonyoung and all his energy. There’s something infectious about him. But, you also know that he’s been very clear on his wants and needs, even if he says you need to talk when you’re back about what’s going on. Then, there’s all your returning feelings for Wonwoo after all the time you’ve spent with him the past several days. Soonyoung seemed to skate over you mentioning running into your ex like it didn’t matter. Or that he trusts you and that the relationship is open, which is the more likely answer. All of that leads to sitting on the couch of Wonwoo’s suite, sipping a glass of wine. 

“What’s going on here?” you ask, interrupting the formerly comfortable silence. 

“We’re drinking wine on Christmas?” Wonwoo suggests.

You turn your head to look at him and find he’s a little confused. “I don’t mean that. I mean,” you gesture between the two of you, “here.” 

“Ah,” Wonwoo says and takes a sip. 

“Yeah,” you say.

“I don’t know, honestly. I know I missed you and that I feel like things are different now. I think we could have actually worked through our issues if we were these people,” Wonwoo says.

“But?” you prompt. Because there’s so clearly a but coming to what he said.

“You’re in a relationship,” he finishes. 

“An open one,” you remind him.

“That you’re not really sure how to define,” he presses back.

“We aren’t even sure if we’d work together again and you’re already worried about what’s going on with Soonyoung,” you sigh. 

“What do you mean?” he asks.

“We’ve got history and it’s been so nice to be around you. But, if we were to try something out again, we’re not just going to jump back into it being serious right away,” you tell him.

“No, I wouldn’t expect it to,” Wonwoo agrees. 

“So does it really matter if I’m seeing someone else? Does anyone outside of us really matter while we’re figuring things out?” you ask.

This is a definite crossroads for Wonwoo. He’s always been very logical and impossibly smart. In all the time you knew him, he was one to weigh things out and go with what made the most sense. It wasn’t like him to be overly emotional about things. Except, apparently, when it came to you. So, this is a big ask. For him to just set aside personal feelings for you and consider the logic behind what you’re saying. It’s a crossroads for you, too. Because you do know it makes sense to consider exploring whatever’s been happening between the two of you. To not have any what-ifs or questions when you go back to the city. To actually explore another genuine connection so you can better understand what you do or don’t feel for Soonyoung.

Wonwoo sighs and nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Focusing on this and figuring it out doesn’t involve anyone else but us.”

“So that last little line of defense stops now?” you ask, hopeful.

“Last line of defense?” he asks. 

You gesture at the space between you. “Ever since I ran into you, there’s always space for the Holy Spirit between us.” 

Both of you laugh at that when Wonwoo’s face cracks into a smile. It erases the last little bit of tension left between the two of you. It’s clear that he means he’s going to give it a real shot to figure out what’s going on without worrying about anyone else. Wonwoo shifts closer to you, rests his arm on the back of the couch behind you, and presses his thigh into yours. 

“Do you still think there’s space for the Holy Spirit?” he asks. 

“No,” you say with a light laugh. 

“I’ve missed you, doll,” he admits and presses a kiss against your temple. 

“I’ve missed you, too,” you say. You turn your body so your back is against the arm of the couch and drape your legs over his lap. It’s a little more comfortable and it lets you look at him easier. 

“It’s so weird to me, running into you here,” he says and you laugh.

“I’d say it’s some kind of fate, but I know you don’t believe in that kinda shit,” you offer.

“I don’t know that I do, but having you around has given me a break from my family,” he shares. 

“Your family is great,” you disagree. 

“They are, but it’s a lot of people time,” he says with a sigh.

Which is why you suggest that you just sit back and watch a movie, something a little scary because you know that’s what he prefers. It doesn’t have to be some Christmas movie, you’ve gotten enough of that with your cousins in the lead up to the holiday. So, you let him pick something and settle back, appreciating the closeness. 

The movie is good, but you’re kind of a fidgeter. You make it through the first half easily, but in the second half, you start getting a little sick of sitting still. Just little things. Adjusting how you’re sitting. Moving your legs slightly. Reaching out for one of Wonwoo’s hands. Something to trick your body into thinking it’s moving. Until it’s a little more than just a movement. Without even thinking, you pull one of your legs towards you, let your knee bend for a second, because it’s a little stiff, and slide it back. It isn’t until Wonwoo sucks in a breath and clenches his jaw that you realize your foot slid right over his dick. 

“Wonwoo, I’m sorry, I didn’t - “ you start, but he’s moving your legs.

“Let’s go,” he says as he stands up.

“What?” you ask. “Go where?” 

“Come on, sweetheart, I’m not gonna play these fucking games,” he says and pulls you up off the couch. 

You’re really caught off guard, because it had been an accident, but your body remembers this. He’s guiding you in front of him to one of the bedrooms and pressing you inside. As soon as you’re both through, he closes and locks the door. Then, he presses you back into it and kisses you hard. Crowds your space so you can’t move an inch. You gasp when he nips at your lip. This has always been the thing about Wonwoo. He’s so quiet and soft spoken and unassuming around everyone else. Just the smart boy who likes to read and play video games. Until he gets you behind closed doors and a switch flips. 

“Fuck, Nu, I swear it was an accident,” you groan as he kisses down your neck.

“So, you don’t wanna get fucked into the mattress? Don’t want me to show you I still know exactly what you like?” he asks.

You’re not the same person you were two years ago, though. “Maybe I like different things now.” 

“We’ll see about that,” he says. 

Before you can respond, he’s kissing you again. Hard and needy and like there isn’t a tomorrow. Maybe there isn’t for the two of you. It’s not like you’ve managed to clear anything up. 

Wonwoo presses his hips into you. Places his hands on either side of your head against the door behind you. It’s so easy to fall into old patterns with him, where you give up your control. Your hands run along his back, underneath his shirt, and he shivers at the touch. It makes him thrust his hips into you again. It makes him grab your hands and pin them in one of his above your head. His lips are demanding when they return to yours, like he’s taking what you owe him. 

There’s no point in begging for more. It would only make him go slower. So, you accept his tongue into your mouth when he keeps kissing you. You let your hands stay pinned above your head. You even chase his lips when he pulls away. It’s hard to suppress the shudder when his lips brush against your ear. 

“I want to fuck you,” he whispers. “I want to press your pretty face into the mattress and get your ass in the air. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” you whimper out. 

Wonwoo pulls away from you and starts to undress. It’s hard to take your eyes off of him because he’s so beautiful. The broadness of his shoulder and his slender waist. The muscles that he hides behind all the layers flex as he pulls off his shirt and steps out of his pants. But, then he’s looking at you expectantly. Likely wondering why you’re fully dressed. You make quick work of getting out of your clothing before turning back to him. 

“Sit on the edge of the bed, babydoll,” he instructs. You hasten to listen to what he asks and he smiles. Not a soft smile. “Open your legs.” 

You do that as well. With your hands on the bed behind you, you lean backwards. Wonwoo kneels down between your legs and runs a hand up your calf. He nips softly at your thighs, sharp enough to make you gasp but not hard enough to leave a mark. As he moves to your other thigh, he spreads your legs further. Only places a light kiss on your other thigh before his hand returns to your pussy. His fingers spread you open and he blows gently. The sensation makes you shiver. It makes you want to beg for him. Instead, you just grip the sheets tighter. Wonwoo chuckles, probably at your attempt to hold back, and licks a stripe up your center. Flattens his tongue against you and runs it slowly through your folds. 

“Oh god,” you moan. You don’t need to look down to see that it makes Wonwoo smile, but you do anyway.

He continues to work you with his tongue, alternating the pace so that you never really know what to expect. His thumb rubs circles over your clit. Maybe he does still know how to get you going. Or maybe your body just remembers him. Either way, he feels so good. You’re entirely more pent up than you feel like you should be. It would be embarrassing if it was with someone you weren’t comfortable with. 

“Fuck, please, baby, I need your fingers,” you beg. 

“You getting close?” he asks.

“Yes, fuck, please,” you cry out.

“Do you think you deserve to come?” he asks. It’s only his thumb on your clit that keeps you going.

“Please,” you beg and hope it’s enough.

It must work because his tongue returns to your cunt and he slides one of his perfect fingers inside as well. The second is in before you realize it and your moans are more sounds than anything intelligible. It’s an unsurprisingly short time before you make a mess of his face and fingers. After he guides you through your orgasm, he stands up and leans over you. Pulls you in for a kiss so that you can taste yourself on his lips. It’s enough to make you a little dizzy. Entirely too soon, he’s breaking the kiss. He runs his hand over his dick and looks at you.

“Spit in your hand,” he directs and you do it without thinking. The post-orgasm haze still has hold of you. 

You don’t need him to tell you what to do next. Before he can say anything, you take over and run your hand down his shaft. Slide your thumb carefully over his tip. Wonwoo clenches his jaw like he’s trying not to let you know just how good it feels. Because you still know him too. You continue to stroke him and take his cock into your mouth. Just the tip, at first. When you look up at him under your lashes, you know that he’s going to lose the battle. 

“Fuck, babydoll, that mouth is better than I remember,” he groans out. His hands wind into your hair, but he doesn’t fuck into your face. You’re a little surprised he can hold back. Especially when you swirl your tongue around his tip. “Okay enough of this.”

Wonwoo, with surprising gentleness, pulls you off of his dick. You have just enough time to look at him triumphantly before he’s moving you back into the bed. He gets you on your hands and knees, presses your back down so that your ass is in the air and your face presses into the pillow in front of you. You arch your back deeper so that he has the best angle. The bed shifts under you and you assume that he’s lining up behind you. He presses a finger into your pussy again and you squirm for a second. When he removes it, you want to complain. But, he’s quick to line himself up and press his cock into you. The pillow muffles your moan as he presses all the way in. His hands find purchase on your hips as he sets a slow rhythm. 

It doesn’t seem like it’s enough, though. His hand finds it’s way into your hair and he pulls back, more gently than he used to. “Is this still okay?” 

His voice is hoarse in your ear. “Fuck, Nu, yes. Be rough with me.” 

It’s all the permission he needs. His hand slides up your body to take your nipple between too skilled fingers. The first twist has you screaming out for him, wanting him to continue. And he does, all while picking up the pace that he fucks into you. He keeps you pressed against his chest. The snap of his hips and the skin slapping together isn’t enough to cover your stream of profanities. Wonwoo places a hand lightly over your throat, using it to anchor you to him. Your loud moan and reassurance of permission makes him squeeze a little tighter. It’s that perfect sensory deprivation to make it all the more intense. Between that and your earlier orgasm, you’re a bit on overload. It’s a kind of mind blankness that you haven’t felt in awhile. Nothing else exists but the pursuit of pleasure. Your mind is totally empty.

Eventually, his movements start to stutter and he releases your throat. Directs you to rub your clit. You hardly need to touch yourself before you feel your second orgasm rip through you, coming all over his dick. He snaps a few more times before pulling out of you. His cum paints over your ass and your back. Wonwoo collapses next to you and you lower yourself down onto your stomach, trying not to make too much of a mess. 

After a moment, Wonwoo presses a kiss to your shoulder. “What do you, babydoll, do I still know you?” 

“It’s like nothing ever changes,” you admit. 

The two days after Christmas seem to pass just as quickly as the days before Christmas. Something feels like it’s shifted with you and Wonwoo, but maybe not in the way you expect. You’re still spending a decent amount of time with him, still being pretty affectionate, but you don’t end up naked in his bed again. It could just be you, though it feels like a joint decision. It feels like it’s some unspoken agreement. 

Everything with Wonwoo has been amazing, like a little break from reality. It’s been so nice to get to see him again, to get to talk about your relationship and everything it meant. Even though you’ve both changed a lot, it’s nice to realize how well he still knows you. And he seems to accept all the ways you’ve changed in stride, which surprises you a little. Change had never been his favorite thing. There’s also just a general sense of nostalgia to your interactions with him. He’s safe in the way someone says that you can always go home. It feels like falling into old patterns. 

But, that’s not what life is supposed to be, is it? Life is about taking chances and risks and pushing yourself out of your comfort zone. Falling back into step with Wonwoo would be so easy. It’s obvious that he still loves you, or maybe loves you again. It’s so easy to picture what your life with him looks like because you remember. You remember all the plans the two of you made. It just feels kind of stagnant, though. You know the kind of love you’re getting back into. It’s not even about not trusting him or worrying it would end up in another break-up. Things are different enough with your communication that you trust it would be different on that front.

It’s just, if you’re being honest with yourself, you can’t get Soonyoung off your mind. Even when you’ve been with Wonwoo, there’s that small voice in the back of your mind whispering Soonyoung’s name. It’s also really hard to stop thinking about what he said before you left. Maybe it doesn’t mean anything changes. Maybe it only means that you define the relationship a little more clearly and it’s still open. But, if you move forward with Wonwoo, you know what that means for Soonyoung. You know it means you’re going to be saying goodbye to the person who’s challenged you, who’s pushed you, who’s forced you out of your comfort zone. You’re just not sure you can do that.

By the time the last night comes around, you know that you need to have an actual conversation with Wonwoo before leaving. Life doesn’t always give you the chance for closure, so you know to take it when it comes around.

“This is it for us, isn’t it?” Wonwoo asks. 

“Yeah, I think it is,” you say. 

“I hope he knows what he’s got,” Wonwoo says with a sigh. “By the time I figured it out, it was too late.” 

“I hope you know that everything I felt for you was so real, that it’s still real now. It’s just…” you start.

“Not enough?” he finishes and you frown. “It’s okay, I’m not upset. I knew from the start that this was a long shot.” 

“Why did you do it, then?” you ask.

“Because I would have regretted it if I left something unsaid or undone,” he says simply.

“I’m so sorry, Wonwoo,” you say.

“I’m not. I’m thankful we got this chance. Now, I have the closure I needed to actually move on,” he says. 

You’re not sure what else to do, so you just wrap your arms around him. His arms wrap around you without missing a beat and he places a kiss on the top of your head. The two of you stand like that for a few minutes, letting all the feelings wash over you. It’s the next part that’s going to be the scariest.

You haven’t properly talked to Soonyoung since the two of you had phone sex on Christmas Eve. Which is actually on you, at least this time, because he’s been keeping up a relatively steady stream of texts. Asking how the vacation was, how it was to be around your family, even how it was to see your ex. And you haven’t done anything wrong, you know you haven’t, but it still feels like too much to text. It feels like the kind of thing you need to tell him when you’re back in your apartment. Thankfully, you don’t even have to ask if he wants to come by. He knows your schedule, knows how long the drive is, and even assumes you’re tired. Despite that, he asks if he’s okay to come over anyway. He even insists that he just wants to see you, sex can be off the table. (Unless you want to fuck on the kitchen table, because that might be hot, he says.)

He’s at your door in what feels like record time, puffy jacket and beanie covering most of his head and upper body. His arms wrap around you before he even gets through the door or takes off his layers. It feels like he smells your hair when he buries his face there, but you can’t be sure. It’s almost a project to get him to unlatch himself long enough to take off his outer layers and remove his shoes before joining you on the couch. Where he clings to you like the idea of personal space is foreign. It’s more comforting than you’d like to admit. You’re at ease, but your heart is also beating entirely too fast.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

“I missed you, too,” you say back. 

“No, I really missed you. My sister kept asking me the whole time I was there if I was okay,” he admits. He separates a little, but keeps hold of one of your hands. 

You’re not really used to this side of him, haven’t seen him this soft in all the time you’ve known him. “Were you not? You seemed okay in your messages.” 

“I -,” he starts, frowns, and then opens his mouth again. “I was okay, when we were texting. Mostly. But, I guess, I’m just used to you being around. I’m used to sending you something, like something that makes me think of you, and having you answer right away.” 

“You were sending a lot,” you tease lightly.

“I kept wondering,” he starts and shakes his head.

“Wondering what, Soon?” you ask. 

“Do you remember before you left that I said I wanted to talk after the holidays?” he asks and you nod. 

“Of course, I thought about it a lot,” you admit.

“You did?” The surprise is evident on his face and you’re not sure what it means.

“Yeah, there were a lot of times I couldn’t really get it off my mind, honestly,” you share. 

“I figured…well with your ex there and you spending so much time with him,” Soonyoung says.

Your stomach drops a little. “Listen, about that…”

“You don’t have to tell me,” he says, trying to cut you off. It’s your turn to grab his hands, though.

“I do, though. Which is selfish, probably, but I need to tell you for me,” you say.

“You’re getting back together with him,” Soonyoung guesses and his whole body seems to slump. You’re not sure what to make of him caring so much and don’t really want to get your own hopes up.

“No,” you assure him. “No, I think that chapter of my life is over. Seeing him just brought up a lot of unfinished shit. And then with the holidays and the resort. I did…well, we did have sex. Just once, on Christmas.”

Soonyoung nods, but doesn’t seem relieved. “I figured you would, I did basically push you to try other things out. Are you going to see him again now that you’re back here?”

“No,” you say again. “But, I think I want to hear what you were going to say.” 

“I’m not sure now is…” he starts and nearly melts at the look you give him.

“Please,” you say so softly it’s barely audible. 

“I should’ve gone with you when you asked,” he says and that brings you up short. You never dared to hope for that much. “I knew it as soon as you were gone. But, I figured it’d be fine. I’d be right where you left me when you got back. Then, you ran into your ex and you seemed happy for the chance. I thought I’d fucked up and that you’d fall for him again. I considered just showing up. I chickened out, though. I figured if it was supposed to work out, then it would. Part of me even hoped you might fuck him and that you’d realize what it took me just a little too long to realize.”

“And what’s that?” you prompt.

“That I’m ready to give actual commitment a try. That I don’t want to think about sharing you with anyone else,” he says and his voice drops to a whisper. “That I love you.” 

“What did you just say?” you ask. 

He takes a deep breath and meets your eyes. “That I love you. And I’m sorry.” 

You don’t even realize you’re crying until he wipes a tear from your cheek. “I love you, too, you giant idiot. It’s always been you for me. It wasn’t ever going to be my ex. I’m not sorry, though. Everything that we’ve experienced, it’s been exactly what I needed.” 

“You know what this means though, right?” he asks and you shake your head. “No more fucking anyone that’s not me.” 

“We don’t have to…” you start. You don’t want to change him, never have. He’s always been perfect exactly the way he is. 

“I know, but I want to. It’s only you. I think it always has been and you just knew it a lot before I did,” he says.

“Can you just kiss me now?” you ask through your tears. 

When your lips meet, it’s so slow and tender. So full of affection and joy and everything left unsaid. For now, at least. If there’s anything you know about Soonyoung, it’s that he doesn’t like to keep much to himself. It’s been so much, so overwhelming. Even though the kisses are languid, you feel the heat building between the two of you. Feel the desire getting stronger. That’s when he breaks the kiss. Your face must look confused or disappointed because he smiles, so full of genuine affection, and stands up. He holds a hand out to you.

“I don’t want the first time after telling you that I love you to be on your couch,” he says. 

Your smile matches his when you take his hand and interlace your fingers. He brings your hands up to his lips and places a kiss on your knuckles. Doesn’t let go of your hand even when you’re in your bedroom. He sits down on the edge of the bed and pulls you between his legs. It makes you lean down to kiss him, but it’s kind of nice. He finally lets go of your hand so that he can wrap his arms around you instead. When Soonyoung looks up at you, eyes full of affection, it’s just more than you can handle. 

“Please, Soonie,” you whisper.

“What?” he asks.

“Don’t look at me like that,” you request.

“Like what?” he asks.

“Like I’m the only person in the entire world,” you say.

He only smiles at first. “I had a lot of time to think when you were away. I’m just appreciating you now.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you assure him.

“I wouldn’t let you.” 

Finally, he pulls you into bed and it’s the most perfect night you’ve ever spent with him. And you’ve had a lot of great nights. He always takes his time with you, always makes sure you’re well taken care of. It’s different now. His lips are everywhere and his hands seem to need to find whatever part of you they can. You’ve never felt so loved and so safe, even with him. Even though he always makes it comfortable. You know that you made the right choice.

(You’re sure when he’s got you seeing stars from his mouth between your legs. You’re sure when he’s sucking marks into your skin where only he can see them. You’re sure when he asks you to tie his hands to the bed. You’re sure when he asks you to untie him so he can fuck you into the mattress. You’re especially sure when he wraps himself around you to fall asleep. It’s everything you’ve wanted, but only because it’s him. It wouldn’t be the same with anyone else.)

Morning comes and everything looks even better in the soft light of a winter’s morning. You’re not sure you’re ever going to get Soonyoung out of your bed (or your apartment) and you’re not really sure you want to. The new year is right around the corner and you can’t wait to see what it brings the both of you.

thanks for coming on this ride with me 💕 please reblog or let me know your thoughts if you liked it!

[velaenaa]

strawberry chocolate parfait \ nanami kento x reader (ch.1)

word count: 1.1k tags: slight slow burn, pining, romance, fluff, added as i go! setting: you are a worker at a bakery that nanami kento frequents ♡ authors note: hello ^_^ i hope you are doing wonderful! this is my first time writing for nanami. pls enjoy! chapter: 1/? <next>

Chapter 1 - Vanilla Cake

‘Does this guy need help….?’

‘He’s staring real hard at the bread…. Omg- is it ugly? Aw hell- I made that this morning…’ 

Your thoughts were cut off by the towering figure of a man, with two loaves of baguette in one hand and one container of cake, that happened to be your favorites, in the other. You smile up at him, “Will this be everything?” He gives a stiff nod, locking his eyes with yours, then you giggled; “Then.. I guess I'll bag-uette up for you..” 

No? No reaction..Damn, tough crowd.. 

He thanks you and you bid him farewell and to come back soon. You could’ve sworn he almost smiled… maybe that was a look of irritation..?

After he leaves eyesight, You make haste by sitting down behind the counter, face flushed with embarrassment and agony. It made you cringe. Why would you say that? Your coworker giggled at you, making sure to add salt to the wound, “You tried.. That’s all it matters.” she gives you a head pat and continues,  “He’s a regular here. He’s probably gonna come back in another couple of hours on his way home or something.”

“Then how come I’ve not seen him before?”

“Dunno.. He’s been away for a couple months now.” 

“What’s his name?”

“You should ask when he comes back.”

“Isn’t that weird?”

“Oh but asking some other random person, who doesn’t know him at all, by the way, isn’t weird?”

She has a point.

You looked down at your phone and idly texted your friend Nobara about your day and fashion related topics. 

You met when Nobara came down to the bakery to get some pastries for her boyfriend. You hit it off right away due to shared interests, albeit you being 7 years older. Nobara enjoyed having an older sister with an affinity for style, love for shopping, and interest in all the cool girl stuff that Maki wouldn’t normally talk to her about. 

Right now you two are discussing weekend plans. Nobara and her boyfriend Yuji, along with Megumi, and their teacher Gojo were going to a karaoke room cause it had been a while since Gojo had gone out with his students. He was stuck on oversea assignments for the past couple of weeks and he dearly misses them, or so he says. As always, you had been invited and of course you said yes! 

You are very fond of the kids and Gojo. The 3 of them reminded you of your siblings back home, and well- Gojo is Gojo. Plus, if you had declined, Gojo would pester you non-stop. 

-

After a mini rush, you sit  down, tired, ready to bite down into your sandwich, when on queue, the door swings open, revealing the tall blonde man, taking his glasses off as his eyes pierce you again. You wave at him and he just nods. You get a bag ready as the man collects another slice of the same cake he had bought earlier. He also got another dessert, this time, a small vanilla custard tart w/ fruits on top, made by yours truly. He comes up to the counter, and you stiffen up  in shyness, “Is this everything for you?”

The man looked tired, but he let out a soft, yet stern ‘yes.’

As you rang up his order you looked back up to him, your lips curling into a small grin, “How was work?” This caught them both off guard, “Oh- I didn’t- I didn’t mean to assume-” I mean.. Unless this guy enjoys walking around in a whole business suit for funsies.

He actually lets out a chuckle, “It’s okay. It was a busy day.” 

You both stayed silent for a second before he asked in return, “How was your day, miss?” This made you feel warm and your smile only got bigger, “It was wonderful! I got to serve a lot of customers. They bought their kids in. It was so fun.”

‘And cause you came into the shop twice.’

“Ah sorry.. I’m trailing. I didn’t mean to ramble- you must be dying to get home.”

‘No, I could get used to listening to you.’  is what he wanted to say;

Instead he lets out a relieved sigh, “It’s alright. I’m glad you had a good day today.” This caused your cheeks to tint red. Dying from embarrassment because you just knew that your coworkers were listening in, she redirects the topic, and points at the cake, “Do you like those?” He nods again, “They’re the best I’ve ever had. Compliment the baker for me.” Oh your heart, you could hear it beating so hard from your chest. 

You do a mental fist pump before clapping your hands with glee, “Oh I’m so glad you liked them!” You go around the counter and grab another slice just for him. You stared up at him in absolute awe, because behind the counter was elevated by at least a foot. 

This man was tall, as hell. 

He just looks down at you eyeing your move. You push the cake towards him even harder, “This one is on the house!” He tilts his head in question. You double down and nod your head, affirming the choice. He grabs hold of the cake with one hand, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”

‘Ask for her name Nanami’ He repeats to himself in his head

“What is your name?” She beats him to the punch. 

‘Have you lost your touch?’-- “Nanami”

“I really like your name. It’s beautiful! My name is Y/N.”

‘Y/N, huh.. What a nice name..’

You give him his bag as he recollects his thoughts, “It’s nice to meet you. I’ve got to get going. Work” You shoot him one last smile before waving him off, “Thank you for coming! It was nice to meet you! Don’t work too hard!”

An hour goes by and it's time for the bakery to close for the night. You turn the lights off as the ladies load up the delivery car with food that wasn’t sold for the day so they could give it to the local kitchens and homeless shelters. You bid your coworkers farewell before hopping into your car and collecting yourself, before driving home.

After you get home you jump into bed, eager to text Nobara. 

[Txt]  Y/N - “I met such a cute guy today!”

A second later there’s an audio msg from her of Gojo;

[Voice Recording] “Wahh?! Y/N I wasn’t there today!”  in a whiny bit.

You laugh as Nobara actually sends a text;

[Txt] Nobara - “Tell me all about it when you come to karaoke… matter of fact, he should come!”

But you just met.. How are you going to pull that off… and will he even want to go is the better question… what if he thinks you’re weird … oh lord… so many overthinking possibilities.. Ok but what if he actually says yes?

[Txt] Y/N- “Are you sure?”

[Txt] Nobara  - “Yeah! Gojo-sensei is paying anyway.”

[monawriteslol]

𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘪'𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 - g.listing x reader 

Summary: You and Georg have been "you and georg" for a while now - definitely more than friends but still less than a couple. Your arrangement seemed to be working fine until Georg spots a mystery bouquet of flowers at your place and his behavior starts to shift in unexpected ways.

warnings : Friends with benefits i guess. Light Angst. Cunnilingus. Vaginal Fingering. Spanking. Cum Play. Protected sex. Feelings realization. Female bodied reader

a/n: this was supposed to be a very short and very small oneshot but turned into a whole ass fic 😭😭 i love feeding my fellow georg fangirlies

5.2k words

“If you’re not ready in 15 minutes, I’m going without you,” Georg declares.

“Cool but it’s my friends we’re having dinner with, so that might be controversial,” you point out, nudging his elbows off your vanity so you can open the drawer in front of where he’s sitting.

“Oh, they like me better than you, it won’t be a problem,” he teases, handing you the beauty blender you were looking for.

You snatch it from his hand. “Hey, you literally weren’t even invited, you just asked if I was busy and said ‘oh that could be fun’ when I told you what I had planned.”

“I feel like my presence was assumed when they asked you,” he shrugs.

You toss the sponge at him and he laughs as you shoo him out of the room so you can finish putting yourself together.

You and Georg have been together for a few months, although neither of you have ever tried to discuss what “together” actually means. Your relationship seemed to be an endless string of implications. When you met, it was implied you liked each other. When you made out at a party a few weeks later, it was implied it was as friends. When you started sleeping together, it was implied it was casual. In your mind, you were something more than “friends with benefits” but still something less than a full-on relationship.

He puts a record on and has just crossed into the kitchen to help himself to a bottled water from your fridge when he notices a vase of flowers on the counter that he definitely didn’t send you.

“Fancy flowers,” he comments. “Who sent them?” He asks, despite immediately checking the card and seeing the message alongside what seems to be a masculine name:

“Thanks for last weekend, let’s do it again sometime ;)”

You’re rooting around in your closet, trying to find the top you had planned on wearing while your mind is focused on your mental checklist of everything you still have left to do before you leave; it takes a good 15 seconds for it to register that Georg has even said anything and another 10 before you distractedly call out “a friend” in response.

Georg sits on your couch and while his hands are turning the pages of some random magazine he found on your coffee table, his eyes are fixed on the bouquet he can still see sitting on the kitchen counter. You’ve never discussed exclusivity, he would have no right to be jealous. But he can’t deny the panic that ran through his body when he saw that card and he can’t keep his mind from racing now.

He thinks he’d almost feel better if he’d found evidence you were fucking someone else; he hates the thought of someone else touching you but he’s also confident that they couldn’t possibly make you feel the way he does in bed. He’s not worried about the sex. But flowers? That implies romance, implies thoughtfulness and intimacy, which are things he wouldn’t blame you for seeking elsewhere. He knows he hasn’t been offering that to you in the ways he could, in the ways you probably deserve.

He tortures himself with these thoughts a bit longer and then props himself in the doorway of your bedroom to check on your progress.

“Oh you’re still here? You were so quiet out there I figured you made good on your threat and you were already at the restaurant ordering without me,” you tease, pulling on your boots.

Georg gives a half-hearted chuckle in response. “You look nice,” he compliments you quietly.

You flash him a pleasant but puzzled smile; something’s off with him, you don’t think he’s ever said you look “nice” as long as you’ve known him and he never passes up a chance to banter with you.

He makes small talk but you notice the way his fingers are fiddling with the label of his water bottle and how his eyes hesitate to look for yours. By the time you’re ready, he’s nonchalantly mentioned the flowers three times and asked you to a party next weekend, when he usually never plans that far in advance.

You pause gathering your things as you realize what’s happening. He’s fucking jealous, you amusedly think to yourself. Part of you wants to tease him about it but there’s an underlying sense of nervousness to it that’s almost sweet. How could something as innocuous as a vase of flowers shake this man’s seemingly endless confidence?

“I wasn’t trying to be vague before,” you tell him. “I helped someone move last weekend; only a couple people showed up to help, it was pretty intense. That’s what the flowers are for.”

“Let’s do it again sometime, winky face?” He raises his eyebrows, casually drinking from his water bottle to show how unbothered he is.

You make a face. “I should’ve figured you’d read the card,” you tease. “I joked that the move was so brutal I’d sooner buy him the apartment than help again when the lease is up.” To punctuate your story, you walk over, peck him on the lips and affectionately straighten his shirt collar. “I don’t know what you’re thinking but I can tell you you’re probably overthinking it.”

Georg tightens his jaw and runs his tongue over his lips as he listens to you. “Didn’t even know you liked flowers,” he shrugs as you smile softly at him.

When he doesn’t immediately follow you out of the bedroom, you know his wheels must still be turning. You get your keys out of the dish and text your friends that you’re leaving now. He finally appears and just as you’re about to tell him you really need to get going, he grabs you and gives you the most over the top, absurdly intense kiss of your life. One hand twisted in your hair, one hand pressing you against him, tongue claiming your mouth as his. He’s clearly trying to prove a point - what and to who, you’re not quite sure - but he certainly proves it.

He pulls away, fire in his eyes and casually says, “You lock up, I’ll get the car started?” as if nothing happened.

You stand there, stunned for a moment, quickly attempt to repair your smudged lipstick and lock the door to meet him outside.

The car ride is mostly silent, save for the radio. Georg plants his hand on your thigh the second you get in the car and it doesn’t budge the entire time. When you grab drinks with your friends at the bar, his hand never leaves your back. During dinner, his arm snakes around your waist the second you slide in the booth next to him. To the outsider this would seem possessive and you’re guessing it partly is but you think you’re pretty good at reading Georg at this point and to you, it feels more complex than that.

He’s still his engaging and charming self, chatting endlessly with everyone about everything but you can tell he’s in his head and you’re not entirely sure why. You recall how unnerved he seemed back at your apartment. You think about the number of times he’s leaned in to whisper a joke or comment in your ear tonight. You feel the gentle way his fingers brush over your hip while you wait for the check and you start connecting the dots.

It may have started with jealousy but this goes deeper than some basic macho territorial bullshit. You’re fascinated as you consider this development. He never seemed to feel angry or betrayed at the thought of someone else holding your attention; he just seemed troubled. Sad. And now it feels like he’s constantly reassuring himself of your presence, like as long as he keeps touching you, keeps engaging you, you’re undeniably there with him.

Your head swims as you consider the implications of this. You never doubted you both cared for each other but is it more serious than that to him? To you? You focus on him talking with your friends and you don’t realize you’re staring until you feel his eyes on you. He looks at you with amused expectancy; you just shake your head and smile fondly.

Your friends say their goodbyes and you start down the street back to the car park. Georg reaches for your hand and it kind of breaks your heart so when you stop to wait for the crosswalk, you place his arm around you and snuggle into him. He looks at you quizzically, as if he’s surprised by your affection. He truly has no idea how transparent he is sometimes, you think to yourself as you mumble something about being cold.

As you make your way down the block, he starts chattering away about the night’s events and with each comment you burrow further into his embrace, appreciating the cool night air and the sound of his voice.

By time you’ve reached the parking structure, you’ve got your arms wrapped around him, inside his jacket. He sways with you as you wait for the elevator, “Am I dropping you back home?”

Your answer comes out muffled as you’ve decided to take this opportunity to bury your face in his chest. “Your place.”

He kisses the top of your head and clarifies, “Thought you had work tomorrow?”

As the elevator doors open, you say, “But your place is closer now” with a glimmer in your eye and you pull him, first into the elevator and then into you. You give him a kiss reminiscent of his over the top, absurdly intense one from earlier but yours has no underlying point to prove. You’ve decided you need him, only him and you want to be sure he knows that.

The car ride is once again silent but this time there is a different tension in the air. His hand finds its way onto your thigh again, though this time it’s definitely a few inches higher. You can’t help but study him, as breathtaking as ever, lit only by the glow of evening traffic. You’re now almost as lost in your thoughts as you know he was earlier. He was so perturbed by those goddamn flowers, why? If you had found a gift from someone you didn’t know at his place, would you be feeling the same way? You’re pretty sure you would.

He catches your gaze at a stop light or two but he doesn’t say anything, just gives your thigh a reassuring squeeze and turns back to the road. As soon as he shuts the engine off, you’re practically lunging across the car to get your lips back on his again. He indulges you for a minute and then breezily laughs, “let’s get you inside then” as he pries you off of him.

Once inside, it’s a dizzying clash of teeth, tongues, lips and limbs as you stumble up the stairs into the bedroom. You’re not sure exactly when it happened but suddenly he’s in his underwear and has you naked and spread in front of him.

He runs his fingers through your folds as he looks at you with a predatory glint in his eyes, asking, “Wet already, huh? This all for me?”

That’s apparently the extent of his teasing mood as he dives right in and starts eating you out before you even think to answer. You gasp and immediately tangle your fingers in his hair as he ruthlessly attacks your clit, first swirling it with the tip of his tongue and then sucking it in between his lips. The way he alternates broad strokes of his wide tongue with deliberate rapid fire flicks has you whimpering faster than you thought possible.

“Been wanting to taste you all evening, beautiful, thought we’d never get away,” he murmurs as he teasingly presses light kisses into your thighs.

“Georg…” you start, still attempting to catch your breath. “What is going on with you tonight…”

He chuckles and replies, “Says the woman who practically jumped me in the parking lot after dinner?” He pushes himself up your body to kiss you deeply, both of you groaning as you taste yourself on his tongue.

He pulls away just enough to continue, “Says the woman who could barely wait for me to put the car in park before she pounced again?”  He kisses you even harder, distracting you enough that you don’t notice his hands have begun to wander until you feel two fingers slowly dragging against your pussy.

You break the kiss with a moan and Georg seamlessly moves his mouth to your neck, giving several teasing bites and nips before he raises his head to look directly at you and say, “Says the woman who I suspect has been dripping for me since the kiss I gave her before we left for dinner?”

He pushes his fingers into you with ease and expertly starts working them. “Maybe even before? Has my girl been wanting me this badly all night?”

You feel your skin flush as you hear the words “my girl” come out of his mouth; this is new. That’s as far as your thought process gets because then he’s curling his fingers and all you can focus on is the way your walls are beginning to twitch and tighten around them, “Georg… please…” is the best response you can manage.

His hand that’s not buried inside you traces down your throat and over your breasts. “Please what, baby? Think you know you’re gonna have to do better than that,” he teases.

“… Want to cum… please…” you breathlessly pant out, rocking your hips against his fingers which have slowed to an agonizingly slow pace, keeping you just on the edge of orgasm.

“Oh don’t worry, pretty girl, you’ll cum alright,” he teases with his bottom lip fixed in a mock pout. “Gotta make it up to you, I obviously should’ve filled you the second I walked through your door tonight,” he speeds his fingers back up and adds his thumb into the mix, rubbing it against your clit, causing your legs to shake.

You grip his arm that’s working you over, digging your nails into his bicep as your entire body tenses and you pulse around his fingers. “That’s my girl, that was a good one, wasn’t it?” he coos as he pumps his fingers into you a few more times for good measure.

You can only breathe heavily in response; your mind and body are both reeling. There it is again: my girl. That kiss by your door, his hands on you all evening, now my girl. You’re not sure if it’s intentional or if his subconscious is giving him away, but he’s claiming you. You’re much more comfortable with that idea than you thought you’d be.

The second it seems like you’ve started to catch your breath,Georg withdraws his fingers from your body and sucks them clean, exaggeratedly groaning his approval. You reach out for him, hoping for a kiss but before you even realize what’s happening, he’s back between your legs lapping away at your center again. “Georg, what the fuck,” you cry out, legs involuntarily closing around him.

Unfazed, he easily spreads your legs back how he wants them and looks up at you, face obscenely wet and glistening from his task. “You tasted so good on my fingers, I wanted more straight from the source,” he shrugs and immediately returns to his mission.

You involuntarily let out a tiny moan at his remark before tugging on his hair to get his attention. “Too much” is all you manage to get out before he licks at your clit in just the right way to make you jolt and let out a guttural groan.

He pulls back and snickers against your thigh. “That’s what I thought, do I know my girl or do I know my girl? Know when you’re ready for another one before you even do, know how to leave you speechless with just a couple flicks of my tongue,” he sneers, rapidly fluttering over your clit in demonstration. “Know this pussy even better than you do, bet you’ve never had anyone else who can say that, have you?”  

You grab onto his shoulder and moan as soon as you hear that magic phrase, my girl, again. Georg’s dirty talk has always been a huge turn on for you but tonight the language is as telling as it is arousing: you are his. You decide that you like it, you want that and you like that he wants that.

You sigh deeply, disappointed but not surprised, when he pulls away just as you feel your climax begin to build. He kisses up your stomach until he reaches your tits, spreading sloppy kisses over one while he squeezes the other, rolling over the nipple with his thumb. You’re not quite sure why tenderness is your instinctual response but you go with it, softly running one hand through his hair and stroking his face with the other.

He looks up at you and his eyes are as breathtaking as always, glowing with both a familiar fire and also a softness you’ve only seen on occasion. You can’t help but smile as you tell him, “You’re unbelievable.”

“Is that a complaint or a compliment?” He asks with a smirk as he turns his attention to your other breast, repeating his actions.

“Not sure… both maybe…” you reply, in a dreamy haze of fondness, amusement and desire.

“I’ll take it,” he mutters against your skin. Satisfied with his work on your chest, you see him start to move back down between your legs.

“Geo… no, need more,” you object, attempting to pull him back up to you.

“That’s what I’m tryna to give you here, baby,” he chuckles, allowing you to pull him up to your lips.

You frantically kiss him and grabble between your bodies until your hand finds his erection still confined in his boxers and you give it a squeeze. “God, Georg, honestly I just want your cock more than anything right now,” you hate how pitiful you sound but you also hope it’s enough that he’ll give you what you want.

Instead he looks you directly in the eye, grins and taunts, “But when don’t you want my cock more than anything?”

He impishly pecks your nose and confidently states, “First you cum on my tongue. Then you can cum on my cock.” And with that, he’s suddenly peppering quick kisses all the way back down your body, musing almost to himself, “No one else can make you feel this way, can they? Know how to get you off like this? Gets you this needy?”

He dives back in with a renewed sense of purpose and has you cumming within moments; you swear at a certain point you can feel him grin against your sensitive core, clearly reveling in the nonsensical murmurs you don’t even realize you’re letting out until you hear them yourself.

“Good girl, sound so pretty when you cum for me, taste even better,” he praises, pressing a final kiss to the inside of each of your thighs before he’s on his feet, finally stripping off his underwear and retrieving a condom from the bedside table.

You’re tired from his teasing but the anticipation of finally having him inside you fuels your decision to snatch the package from him and begin tugging at his cock as soon as he’s within arms reach. You roll the condom on him as he tucks your hair behind your ear and says, “Been so good tonight, baby, you decide how you want it.”

You purse your lips in amusement because while his offer appears generous, based on the tone of the evening and the charged mood you’re both in, there’s no way he doesn’t already know you’re about to choose his preferred position.

You reach up and kiss him lustfully one more time before you dramatically turn over and raise yourself up on all fours, looking over your shoulder at him with an expectant look. He raises an eyebrow at you and you playfully roll your eyes at him, “Are you going to pretend like you’re surprised or are you gonna fuck me?”

He grips your ass cheeks, kneading them in each hand, fondly clicking his tongue, “Cum twice already and still so impatient.”

You expect him to tease you; he always does and after the evening you’ve had, you assume you’re in for another tortuous display of dominance so it takes you by surprise when he’s suddenly sliding in to you. You hear his breathing become noticeably more pronounced as he buries himself and his fingers lightly trace down your spine, his actions pausing for just a beat longer than you’d like.

Without even giving it a second thought, you start eagerly moving against him. "Need me that badly you can’t even wait one second for me to catch my breath?” He taunts in a voice that’s both amused and aroused. He wraps his hand in your hair and yanks hard. “So desperate for me to wreck you, gotta fuck yourself on my cock?” He punctuates his question with a swift smack to your ass.

You attempt to scoff at his teasing but a simple, strained “fuck” leaves your lips instead as you steadily rock yourself back against him. He doesn’t seem to mind your initiative, responding to your movements with approving groans and keeping his large hands occupied by covering your ass, first with sharp slaps followed by firm yet tender rubbing to soothe your reddening skin.

You hear yourself chanting “More. Please. More.” in a rhythm matching the way you’re throwing your body back on him. He complies with your request, hand coming down on your backside multiple times in rapid succession and you cry out in satisfaction. You love the sting but you think you love the fact that you’ll be wearing his marks for days even more.

A particularly strong blow has your arms giving out, dropping your upper body down to the bed with a moan. He takes this as you handing over the reins and quickly moves his hands from your ass to your hips, grip digging into your skin as he takes over and starts pounding into you.  

“Goddamn you wrap around me so good, it’s like you were made to take my cock weren’t you, beautiful?” His praise has both your mind and body humming; it’s been a long evening and although you’ve already had two orgasms, you find yourself overwhelmed by the undeniable need to cum with him inside you.

He pushes down on the small of your back to pop your ass and fuck you at a better angle but the way his fingers firmly but gently fall on your skin reminds you of how he touched you earlier in the evening. In the restaurant. On the street. In the car. Always wanting to feel you, always confirming your presence, always reassuring the both of you that your rightful place was with him.

An unexpected wave of affection washes over you and suddenly you’re needing him in a much different way. You manage to feebly say, “Geo? Babe?” as you muster the strength to raise yourself back on one arm while you fling the other behind you, blindly searching for him.

You almost never call him pet names so it immediately jumps out at him; he notices the shifted tone in your voice and halts his actions. You turn your head to meet his gaze as he pants, “You alright? What’s happening?”

Your hand finally finds his resting on your hip and you give it a squeeze, “Changed my mind. Need more of you on me.”

The confusion and concern that were clouding his features softens into something familiar yet somehow undefinable as he gingerly pulls out and leans forward to give you the softest kiss you’ve received all evening. “Well, let’s do that then.”

You spin around to face him and sit back on your knees, pulling him into another soft, slow kiss, brushing his hair off his forehead. He basks in your tender attention for a moment before he’s guiding you back down onto the bed, situating himself to fully lay on top of you, between your legs, careful not to break your kiss until you’re ready.

He slips back inside you and before he even gets the chance to ask, a breathy “Yessss” is all the confirmation he needs to know that this is what you were craving. You wrap your legs around him and run your hands across his broad back, “Just wanted to feel more,” you explain.

Your eyes are closed, relishing the feel of his weight on you and the stretch of him inside you, so you don’t notice the way he silently studies you for a moment before he lifts himself up and starts thrusting into you again.

For all the filth that’s come out of your mouths this evening, this round finds you both unusually quiet, letting your joined symphony of moans, groans, “yeahs and “fucks say everything that needs to be expressed.

You feel him reach for your hand and move it to rest above you on the pillow, interlacing his fingers with yours; you respond with a squeeze and then one up him by turning your head to nip at his skin, simply because you can. He’s left his signature up and down your body tonight, it’s only fair you get to leave a small token of your appreciation on his.  

He hisses at the feel of your teeth lightly grazing his skin. “Come on, baby, play nice.”

“Since when do we do that?” You breathlessly reply and then bask in the glow of the grin you receive in response.

Still smiling, Georg shakes his head. “If you’re able to make smartass remarks like that, clearly I’m not doing my job here.”

He takes one of your legs from around his waist and lifts your thigh back towards your chest; your mouth opens to moan but nothing happens as he pulls almost entirely out and then fucks into you so much slower and deeper than before. He chuckles, “That’s more like it.”

You consider rolling your eyes at his teasing or panting out another sassy quip at him but the way he’s moving in you feels so otherworldly you honestly don’t care about anything else. You grab on to his forearm and dig your nails in.

“Feeling good, beautiful?” He reaches between you and mercilessly rubs your clit. “Who’s making you feel this good?”

The sound emanating from your throat might be his name but mainly sounds like a series of whimpers.

He rubs harder and thrusts deeper. “Didn’t hear you, speak up. Whose cock makes you feel like this?” You continue crying out nonsensically as you feel yourself on the verge of your third orgasm.

You need him close so you pull him down to you for a kiss. He sloppily licks into your mouth, panting against your lips. He’s almost as gone as you are. You bite at his bottom lip and say, with a bit more desperation than you anticipated, “Gonna cum for you, Geo.” He nods understandingly and pecks your lips once more.

His lips move to your neck as his thrusts speed up again; he’s determined now and you’re moaning in earnest. You feel that familiar burning in your core and your eyes instinctively flutter shut, savoring the fall into bliss.

“Uh-uh, eyes open, baby. Want you to look at me. Need to be sure you know whose cock it is you’re cumming on,” Georg commands.

You force yourself to focus on him as you start to unravel, your entire body on fire, tensing deliciously; your mind is screaming his name but only indecipherable whines fall from your lips. Georg is relentless as he fucks you through it, his thrusts never slow; no matter how impossibly tight your pussy squeezes around his cock, he never stops driving into you even rougher and deeper than before.

His eyes remain locked on yours, making the entire experience feel unbelievably more intimate. You swear you can feel every pent up emotion from the evening - the jealousy, the worry, the possessiveness, the passion, the… love? - in his gaze and you’ve never had a more intense orgasm, physically or emotionally.

As you come down from your high, you hear him praising you, “Yes, baby… love making you cum… you always give so much… always such a good girl for me.” His words alone would’ve earned a reaction from you but he sounds as wrecked as you feel, causing you to emit a deep and breathy moan at this realization. He’s panting so heavily you know his release won’t be far behind.

You feel like you’re mad with desire at this point; you’re beyond satisfied and you know you couldn’t possibly cum again but you still feel like you’re wanting something, you still need more of him. Feeling emboldened by watching Georg lose control and the euphoria still pulsing through your body, you find yourself digging your nails into his arms and muttering, “Want your cum, Georg.”

He lets out a grunt as his hips slam into yours. “Oh, you’re definitely about to get it,” he smirks.

You sigh partly out of exasperation and partly out of arousal for what you’re about to request. “No, Georg, I want it,” you pant. “Want you to cum on me, make me yours.”

His hips slow as he processes your words. “Fuck” is all he can manage to growl under his breath in response. He pulls out and you whimper at both the absence of him and the anticipation of what’s going to happen.

Georg peels off the condom and you can’t take your eyes off him as he wraps his long fingers around his cock and begins to stroke himself. It only takes a few tugs before he’s gasping and murmuring your name and you have to moan along with him when you feel his warm cum spurting onto your stomach and chest. He maintains a firm grip as the rhythm of his hand varies, making sure he squeezes out every last drop for you.

He hangs his head in exhaustion for a beat and then takes in the sight of you: fucked out, chest heaving, painted in his release. You catch him staring and offer him a tired yet mischievous smile; he seems to pick up on your wavelength and smirks as he runs a finger through the substance on your breasts and brings it up to your lips for you to suck off.

“Jesus, baby,” he groans, shaking his head almost as if he can’t believe his eyes. “Don’t move.” He affectionately rubs your thigh a few times before he moves off the bed and ducks into the bathroom, returning seconds later with a wet washcloth. He climbs back next to you on the bed and presses a passionate kiss to your lips before he starts gently cleaning you up; it’s quiet for a few moments and the intimacy is not lost on either of you. You reach up and brush his hair from his eyes.

“Hey,” you start, fondly. He smiles much softer than he has all night. “Hey yourself,” he giggles. You pause and feel a bit of leftover boldness coursing through you, so you comment, “You seem like you’ve got something on your mind. ” Georg bites his lip and exhales deeply, clearly considering how to answer. He looks down, avoiding your eyes, and fusses over a mark on your hip that’s sure to form into a gnarly bruise by morning.

“Sorry if I got a little crazy tonight, I know I‘m usually better at checking in with you,” he muses. You sit up and squeeze his shoulder. You feel the urge to reassure him but you can tell he’s on the verge of opening up and you don’t want to derail him.

You’re trying to find the courage to prompt him further when he surprises you by admitting, “It just really fuckin’ got to me when I thought… “ he trails off, looking away again. “I got weirded out about those flowers and I shouldn’t have. And I’m sorry.” He tosses the washcloth onto the nightstand in exasperation. You give him a faint smile. “Geo, I told you —”“I know and I believe you but I just started thinking… and then I couldn’t stop,” he confesses quietly. 

He stands up and pulls on a pair of shorts before busying himself by starting to tidy the bed. You excuse yourself to the bathroom. You figure he could use some time to process whatever it is he’s still trying to work out so you wash your face, brush your teeth and slip on a t-shirt of his you find discarded on the counter. You venture back into the bedroom and find him tossing the pillows back onto the bed after having changed the sheets. He still looks lost inside his thoughts and you yearn to ease his mind. You walk over and hug him from behind, burying your face into his back; he gives your arms an affectionate squeeze. 

“I know we don’t really talk about this kind of thing but I feel like you should know I haven’t seen anybody else since we started talking,” you offer, your confession muffled with your face still pressed against his skin. “It hasn’t even been a conscious thing, I just… haven’t been interested, I guess.” Georg pulls you to his side and kisses the top of your head. “Thank you for telling me that,” he murmurs, rubbing your back.

You quickly come around and kneel on the bed in front of him so that you’re at his eye level and you wrap your arms around his neck. “And I liked everything that happened tonight; you know I would have told you otherwise,” you assert. He nods in acknowledgement so you continue, “I like hearing you tell me I’m your girl, I like when you make me feel like I’m yours… ” 

You feel tempted to look away, to fidget with the necklace he’s wearing but you resist.

 You look straight into his eyes, full of warmth and attentiveness, and state, “You know, I could be yours, if that’s something you decide you want.” 

Georg only lets your words hang in the air for a split second before he wraps his arms around you tightly and kisses you slowly; it’s intense and passionate but not in the same over the top, cocky way that he kissed you back at your apartment.

 This kiss is also trying to prove something but it’s a message meant only for you and he’s taking his time to make his point clear.

When your mouths finally separate, you take a deep breath and steady yourself on his arms. You open your eyes at him and grin.

“Was that your way of asking?”

[noneorother]

The grand unified theory of Good Omens S2 hangs on - you guessed it - a double meaning (and art). *Part 3*

Part 1 l Part 2 l Part 3 l Part 4 l Part 5 l The End? This is major spoilers for season 3 territory. You have been warned. I'm also going to split this into parts because wow, I have so many ✨Clues✨! My peeps, before I show you the prestige, we need to discuss Maggie. Maggie is SO WEIRD.

Right up top we get her telling us this. Who loves something since they were a baby? Since you were a kid sure, but how can you remember loving something since you were a baby?

This one's fun. The double meaning here is 1) I was a huge uptight nerd so I never went to parties and/or 2) I wasn't a human teenager so I never got to go to your earth parties. But check out when Nina and Maggie *first* meet in her coffee shop. We spend a lot of time in this scene, because it's framed as a meet cute, but it's also full of weird dialogue.

So i'm not a writer, someone feel free to tell me I'm wrong, but Maggie is remembered by Nina AS A COFFEE. She IS a skinny latte. This works on two levels again. 1) You're not important enough to me to remember you as a person, just as an order. 2) You do not fit into my memory of people I know, but subconsciously I remember you as NOT a regular human.

And then again when she leaves the shop, Nina isn't paying attention and just sort of subconsciously replies:

Again, two meanings. Maggie is unimportant to her, Maggie is also a *coffee*.

Which is weird, because as far as I can tell Maggie never drinks a coffee, or anything for that matter. Sure she orders stuff in the shop, and is offered food and alcohol, but we never see her actually drink or eat any of it. She stirs the tea but never takes a sip.

So what IS Maggie then? Many people have pointed out that Maggie and Nina are a coffeeshop AU of our heroes. Their visual presentation seems to be screaming Nina = Crowley! and Maggie = Aziraphale! And they *work* on opposite sides of the street and everything! So is Maggie just a stand-in for Aziraphale then, to make the parable work? Cool, then what's the parable?

Uh oh. What possible AU fiction ends up with the main love interests breaking up with their toxic ex, dancing in a ball and fighting demons together and then... just not ending up together? An AU written by kind of a bad writer who wants to show the two lovebirds he's trying to separate that it will never work. Oh hey look The Metatron is here:

Now, I think the same guy that has been adding bits and pieces in the past would have no problem adding stuff and/or people in the present to make a point. Maggie also seems to be pretty sure about quite a lot of things that I wouldn't be sure about, given the context.

Maggie's knows it's not going to do any good, but she has to tell them anyway? Tell them what, that Nina and Maggie talked it out and never ended up together? Wow, what a great message. Thanks Maggie. Maggie isn't just a downer of an example though, remember she's also A COFFEE! Shoved in Aziraphael's and Crowley's faces, asking them to take it and help her since the beginning.

There's a concept in magic tricks called a force, where it seems like someone has free will ; to put a card anywhere in a deck, or pick a number, or volunteer, but actually the outcome has been chosen for them by the magician for the trick to work. The actual trick is about getting the person to think they've freely chosen to participate in the trick, not the act of revealing the card. The real trick was never making Maggie and Nina try to fall in love, it was getting Aziraphael to think he had freely chosen to help Maggie get this whole thing going. And if we know one thing about Aziraphael, it's that he's actually terrible at magic. Aziraphael has been primed to take the coffee in S2E6, because he's been taking the coffee the whole season. Ready for the prestige reveal after the force? We're going right to The Metatron in Part 4.

[twinkleteaparty]

Speeding Bonds: A Sainz Siblings Story

This is my first F1 fanfiction, and I'm excited to share it with you all! It's a bit short, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless. Your feedback means a lot to me, so if you like what you read, let me know! If there's interest, I'll definitely add more to the story. Thanks for taking the time to check it out!

Character: Name: Ji-min Sainz Age: 23

Background: Ji-min was adopted from South Korea into the Sainz family when she was just a baby. Growing up in Spain, she was immersed in Spanish culture but always felt a connection to her Korean roots. She has a warm relationship with her adoptive family.

Ji-min discovered her passion for music at a young age and pursued it fervently. She auditioned for a talent agency in Barcelona and was selected to be a part of a five-member girl group called "Eclipse." Despite her busy schedule as a K-pop idol.

Meanwhile, her older Carlos Sainz Jr. was making a name for himself in the world of Formula 1 racing. Their paths rarely crossed due to their different careers and lifestyles, but Ji-min secretly followed Carlos's races, feeling proud of his achievements yet also envious of the attention and recognition he received.

As Ji-min's popularity as a K-pop idol soared, she kept her family background a secret, fearing that it might overshadow her own accomplishments and potentially cause unwanted attention. However, deep down, she yearned to connect with her brother.

The story:

SMS

Ji-min: Hey Carlos, it's Ji-min. Hope you're doing awesome today! 🌟

Carlos: Ji-min! What's up, little sis? 😄 Everything good on your end?

Ji-min: Yeah, all good here! Hey, I was actually wondering... would it be cool if I came to one of your races? I've been dying to see you in action, big bro! 🏎️💨

Carlos: Of course it's cool, Ji-min! I'd love to have you there cheering me on. But... are you okay with everyone knowing we're family? I mean, it's kind of a big deal to go public with this stuff.

Ji-min: Totally cool with it, Carli! I've been wanting to shout it from the rooftops for ages. 😄 Plus, I'm super proud of you, big bro! Let's show the world what the Sains siblings are made of!

Carlos: Haha, you're the best, Ji-min! Thanks for always having my back. 😊 Alright then, I'll hook you up with a pass for the race. Get ready for the full VIP treatment!

Ji-min: Woo-hoo! VIP treatment, here I come! 🌟 Thanks a million, Carli. You're the best big bro a girl could ask for!

Carlos: Anytime, Ji-min! Can't wait to see you at the race, little sis. Get ready for some serious fun!

Ji-min: Counting down the days big bro! Vamos!

The day of the race:

At the Australian Grand Prix 2024

Ji-min made her way through the bustling crowds, the sun beating down on her as she walked. She was dressed in a simple sundress, a soft pastel blue that fluttered gently in the warm breeze. The fabric flowed loosely around her figure, offering comfort and ease as she navigated through the throngs of people.

A pair of oversized sunglasses shielded her eyes from the bright sunlight, partially concealing her face and adding a touch of mystery to her appearance. She pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail, strands of dark hair framing her delicate features.

Despite the casual attire, Ji-min moved with a graceful confidence, her steps light and purposeful as she weaved her way through the crowd. She kept her head down slightly, avoiding direct eye contact to minimize attention as she made her way towards the VIP area.

Occasionally, she caught snippets of excited chatter from nearby fans discussing the upcoming race and the drivers competing in it. Ji-min couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement coursing through her veins as she neared the entrance, her heart pounding with anticipation.

As she reached the designated entrance for VIP guests, Ji-min took a deep breath, her excitement bubbling beneath the surface. With a confident smile, she presented her pass to the security personnel and stepped inside, ready to witness her big brother's momentous victory firsthand.

Her eyes scanning the crowd for any sign of her brother. She was so absorbed in her search that she didn't notice the people around her, her gaze moving to her phone screen as she typed out a message to Carlos.

"Hey Carli, just arrived. Where are you? "

Lost in her phone, Ji-min didn't notice the figure approaching until it was too late. With a sudden jolt, she collided with someone, nearly dropping her phone in the process.

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" she exclaimed, looking up to see who she had bumped into.

Standing before her was none other than Lando Norris, one of the drivers competing in the race. Ji-min's eyes widened in surprise, recognizing him instantly from his racing gear and signature smile.

Lando grinned apologetically, his blue eyes sparkling with amusement. "No worries! "

Ji-min nodded, feeling a blush creeping up her cheeks. Sorry for not paying attention."

Lando chuckled, waving off her apology. "Not a problem at all." giving her a friendly nod before continuing on his way.

As Ji-min watched him disappear into the crowd, she couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement coursing through her veins. Little did she know, her encounter with Lando was just the beginning of an unforgettable day at the races.

----

Ji-min's heart raced as she finally spotted her brother amidst the hustle and bustle of the Ferrari garage. Carlos stood surrounded by his team, his familiar smile lighting up his face as he greeted them with enthusiasm.

"Carli!" Ji-min exclaimed, weaving her way through the crowd until she reached him. "There you are! I've been looking all over for you."

Carlos turned towards her, his eyes lighting up with delight as he caught sight of his little sister. "Ji-min! I'm so glad you made it!" he exclaimed, pulling her into a tight embrace.

Wrapped in her brother's arms, Ji-min felt a rush of warmth and contentment wash over her. It had been too long since they last saw each other, and she cherished every moment they spent together.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," Ji-min replied, pulling back to look at Carlos with a beaming smile.

They spent the next few minutes catching up, exchanging stories and sharing laughs as they soaked in the atmosphere of the race day. Ji-min couldn't help but feel a surge of pride as she watched her brother interact with his team, his passion for racing shining through in every word and gesture.

----

[ssahotchnerr]

Hey hey Katie!! Have fun on your road trip!

So what do you think about Reader, Jack, and Aaron (reader and Aaron are married) going to a water park together since it’s the end of summer?? I can totally seeing Jack bouncing off the walls wanting to go on the slides and reader and Aaron trying to constantly catch up to him! Like they’re being all domestic and cute going to the wave pool, lazy river, etc. 🥹

Thennnn Aaron and reader have “beef” since Jack wants to ride with his Momma on the tube slides instead of Aaronnnnn but then Aaron gets him a giant ice cream and Jacks like 😃 ok daddy I love you

Meanwhileeeee Aaron and reader are trying not to jump each other cuz they’re appreciating how they look and have fight off all the other people trying to flirt!! Then maybe they go home and have pizza and watch a movie together!

i did have fun thank you!!!! and AH your mind >>>>

it's def a lil end of summer surprise for jack 🥰🥰🥰 hehe you and aaron are getting ready for bed one night, discussing how summer just flew by and the days are dwindling down until jack is back in school 😭 🥲 AND since aaron doesn't work the next day, you both agree you should take advantage of it and take jackers out to do something fun!!!!!! <3333 aaron checks the weather for the next day to narrow down ideas, sees it's gonna be a hottttt one and comes up with the genius idea of going to a waterpark!!! something so fun and a good way to beat the heat <33

AH so you wake up jack bright and early the next day - aaron wanted to get there earlier to beat the crowd/traffic - and as he's opening his eyes, still half asleep, you brush his hair away from his eyes and whisper-ask :D "wanna go to a waterpark????" and within an instant, jackers is wide awake with the biggest most excited grin on his face <3333 his swimsuit is on in record time and he's eagerly talking you and aaron out the door as quickly as possible.

and as you get him and yourself ready, aaron has the job of collecting the towels, flip flops, sunscreen, anything you may need throughout the day, putting it in a big beach bag, and has the task of loading up the car 🤭 hehe it's very Dad of him <3333

as you three are pulling into the waterpark, jack is pointing out alllll the slides he sees and needs to go on because they look "super cool!!!!!!" - he's practically out of his seat, still buckled in, and aaron keeps looking in the rearview mirror and keeps reminding jack to stay put until he's parked 🤨🫵🏻🥰 but jack being as excited as he is, doesn't listen 🤭

and once you're all in the park, sunscreen is on and your spot has been selected, sweet jack is pulling on your hand trying to drag you away to go on slides <333 hehe leaving aaron in the dust 🤭 aaron pretends to be offended, pouts, and asks "what about me??? this was my idea you know???" and jack just giggles, clutches onto your hand and insists again how he wants to go on with you <3333333 so as the day progresses, he teases jack how the two of you are having all the fun 🙄 BUT for some of the bigger slides, the ones that make jack a bit nervous 🥺 he wants aaron to go on those with him 😭

and the lazy river <33333 the three of you spend sooo much time in there. aaron is the only one trying to relax, while you and jack team up to splash him every so often 🤭 hehe aaron is lounging in the floatie, eyes closed, he looks like he's asleep lmaooo 😭 and when he gets splashed, he totally plays it up for jack 🥹 pretending the water is such a surprise and topples into the river, which causes jack to erupt in laughter 💓💞 and UGH it tugs at your heartstrings because aaron 🥹🥹 is such a good dad <33333

and when aaron sees you in your bathing suit 🤭 he totally tries to grab your ass multiple times throughout the day. in response, you just smack his hand back and then also his chest gently and whisper-yell at him amusingly, "aaron!!!!! there are children here" and he just shrugs his shoulders and gives you a smirk ;)))))

AND every time you peer at aaron to check him out in his shirtless glory <3333 he's already peering at you to check you out 🤭 hehe the two of you just stupidly grin at each other, and UGH aaron causes you to blush everyyy time

but omg the other moms are TOTALLY checking aaron out, so you keep offering to put sunscreen on him to show he's yours >:( like one glances in his direction, their gaze lingers on him and his body for a bit too long and you're turning to aaron and urgently telling him, "i need to put sunscreen on your chest now" hehe and the first few times, aaron whines a bit, says how he's already fully covered thanks to you but complies <333 and eventually aaron catches on why and is so so sweet 🥹 so he'll let you manhandle him and put sunscreen on with no complaints, and alwayssss gives you a sweet kiss and reminds you he's all and only yours <33333

and at the end of the day, jack is soooo tuckered out from all the time spent in the sun, all the fun he had, and aaron carries him back to the car 🥹🥰 and once you're back home, the ac feels so nice and welcoming, aaron lays jack in his room so he can continue napping, and then the two of you take a shower together to cool down and wash up - hehe aaron makes a comment about he has to get all the sunscreen off him LMAO which reminds you of earlier so you have to remind him again who he belongs to so 🤭 that calls for shower sex of courseeeee 🥰💞💞💕💞

and once jack is awake and showered, the three of you finish the most amazing summer day by ordering some takeout, watching a movie and cuddling on the couch <3333333

[fellthemarvelous]

hi! i hope you don’t mind but i just wanted to thank you SO much i just saw your addition to a post somewhere and you talked about how so many people view aziraphale as a support mechanism for crowley who’s never allowed to be his own person. you put EVERYTHING i’ve been wanting to say since July into words and I was audibly cheering while reading that so yeah just THANK YOU SO MUCH

(TW: religious trauma briefly discussed)

I absolutely don't mind at all!! The horrid Aziraphale takes are ending me, and as a few people in this fandom have come to realize, you can always rely on me to be a PETTY ASS BITCH while being really dramatic about it.

And these are all the same reasons that I fully endorse Aziraphale being petty as shit next season (I will take his inner Cordelia Chase if he has one) if we're going to let Crowley get a way with treating him like shit.

It's super cool that people think Aziraphale should always carry the burden of Crowley's pain in addition to his own on his shoulders considering the fact he probably already does that.

Like that doesn't line up with my own experiences with religious trauma as a woman who grew up in the Catholic Church or something. We were literally told from 5-years-old that we must always carry the weight of Original Sin on our shoulders because we were the ones solely responsible for Original Sin. That is a heavy burden to carry as a child, and we were made to believe that everything we do must be approved by a man.

Think of the way that Aziraphale is so good and full of love. He probably already carries the burden of Crowley's fall because he's the one who started the conversation with Crowley. He tried to warn Crowley not to start trouble because he already understood that getting in trouble would lead to bad things. Why? Why did he already know this?

Why not ask that question?

Why don't people ask who it was that Aziraphale heard that rumor from in the first place?

Like I get that it's so much fun for people to hate on religion right now (trust me, I think organized religion is to blame for the majority of our problems in the world), but taking a character as inherently good as Aziraphale and villainizing him because he doesn't act like a Stepford Wife is PISSING ME OFF SO MUCH!!!!!!!!

[runawaymun]

i'm very obsessed with your depiction of Song in and the stars shine the same. you write it with such a different feel for each character, if that makes sense? especially since it's always been to me such a difficult concept to portray well in fic. i've been wondering, what do you think everyone's Singing is like, if you've thought about it? whether just as like the general feel to it to a bystander/listener, or just purely sound qualities, like i seem to remember glorfindel's baritone singing voice as a thing a lot of people would write.

i'm very sorry if this was asked/discussed before however i am...well not *new* but it's been years since i was active around lotr/silm tumblr. i am rapidly getting pulled back in to fan spaces it would seem. anyways. <3

Ahhhh oh wow! What a cool ask this is! Thank you so much. Playing with Song and Music and Themes in my fics is one of my favorite things to do. Songs of Power are just soooo damn cool I can't help myself. I'm sorry it's taken me so long to respond to this, I've just been trying to compile my thoughts! Buckle up cause this is gonna get kind of long.

Elrond is easiest for me to nail down for obvious reasons. I've dug into his Music the most out of everyone, but it feels different to different people. For a lot of elves it can be very overwhelming because there is just SO much going on in his Theme. A lot of syncopation and dissonance (in the best possible way. Just super fun note combinations). Usually his Music is quite steady and calming. Generally I think of his actual singing voice to sound like Colin O'Malley does in Thomas Bergensen's Sonera. Strong and open-sounding and just....the slight rasp but like it's still so gorgeous and hngggggg. Though, with Rings of Power (or just a younger) Elrond specifically I imagine more like Reeve Carney's voice -- especially as Orpheus in Hadestown. Again you get that bright, open sort of voice but there's a sweetness and a vibrato to Reeve's voice that I just adore for a young Elrond!

Gil-Galad is another character whose music I have thought about a whole bunch (mostly in contrast to Elrond's, due to To Partake), and he has a very even quarter-time beat and just. Idk he sounds and feels so orderly and steady and kind of brassy to me. I don't have headcannons on his singing voice, though.

Celebrimbor also has an even quarter-time beat but his music is more relaxed and there's room in it for play. Like it has a swing beat every once in a while, and in general he just has this very big, open, echoing feeling. Like he is just huge idk. Music that just thunders around your ears in the best possible way. I also don't have a headcannoned sound for his singing voice yet but in general I think it would be pretty low.

Maglor is different for me depending on pre or post Oath, in terms of his actual Theme. Pre Oath there is a lot of interest and complexity, and post Oath that sort of gets drowned out by the overlaying Theme of the Oath (which feels horribly loud, with this plodding sort of beat that gets faster and faster the more Oath-madness is upon the Feanorians). His singing voice is like Joey Batey from The Amazing Devil. The way that Joey is capable of singing with this gorgeous, soulful, sweet voice and then he can turn on a dime to sound like he's about to tear someone to shreds and you're pretty sure that nobody should be able to sing THAT fucking loud without breaking their vocal chords? The RANGE? The way his voice just sends shivers up your spine? Yeah. Maglor.

Galadriel I don't have much on because she is kind of an enigma to me. But I think there would definitely be an aspect of her Theme that would put you on edge. As far as her singing voice go, I actually wrote Convergence I while listening to "Sonera" and yeah the male voice in Sonera I headcannon as Elrond, and the female voice I headcannon as Galadriel for that specific scene. In general though, I tend to hear her voice as sounding like Kate St. Pierre in Hurt by Thomas Bergensen.

Celebrian has a lot of strings and flutes in her theme to me. It's orderly but more like a 3/4 time signature. The kind of thing you want to dance to or listen to while you're taking a long walk. Mostly high notes. Her singing voice sounds like the the female part in Sun and Moon (which I would like to find out who that is but unfortunately I can not seem to find her credited anywhere). Like it's pretty but there's this sort of untamed edge to her voice, just a bit. (Also I am a big fat nerd about Sun and Moon because a) Cel and Elrond are sun and moon coded to me and b) the male voice which is actually the song's composer sounds CLOSE enough to my headcannoned Elrond singing voice that I can sit back and imagine they're singing a duet haha)

Arwen is like a mix between her parents. She's got that 3/4 beat like Cel but there IS a bit of syncopation from Elrond in there, but similar sort of harps/strings vibes. Purple, to me. I do not know how to explain what purple even means or sounds like in this context asdlkgh. But her voice sounds like Eurielle - very much thinking about Luthien's Lament, specifically.

I unfortunately do not have a lot of headcannons for Elladan and Elrohir yet but we'll get there quite shortly with boundless sky.

Luthien has the sort of voice that will just fucking blow your socks off. I know she sang Morgoth to sleep blah blah but girl has power in that voice and the world's most ridiculous range. I am thinking specifically of ghost love score. And yes, her Theme sounds like orchestral metal. Sauron fucking hates it.

Morgoth is jazz. That is all I have to say on that.

That's all of the people I have nailed down as to what they sound like! Thank you SO much for this ask. It was so much fun to respond to!

[tolietpaperdreams]

Hysteria Final Chapter! (Hartbreak)

It’s finally here! This is it! It’s been so fun to write this story, I can’t believe it’s finally done 🫶🏻 Thank you so much to everyone that has stuck with it since the beginning, this is actually my first completed multi-chapter fic and I feel super accomplished.

Thank you all for reading and enjoying it means the world!

Here’s your tooth-rottingly sweet finale <3

The day of the pay-per-view was here. Bret felt good about it. He’d trained to his best ability and the match was mapped to the umpteenth degree. There was nothing else to do except maintain his readiness.

The build-up had been fantastic, Shawn was as charismatic as ever. He was so over with the fans that every time Bret went to speak on the mic he was booed to the point of silence. Bret couldn't even be mad, it meant he was doing his job.

That morning at the hotel. Bret woke Shawn up with sweet kisses all over his face; he wanted to make sure his partner felt nothing but support.

“Mmph…” Shawn scrunched his eyes closed and tried to bury his face back into the pillow.

Bret nibbled on Shawn’s earlobe in response, earning another tired groan from the blonde.

“Lemme sleep,” Shawn half-heartedly pushed Bret away, to no avail.

“C’mon, we’ve gotta get to the arena early today,” Bret placed one more kiss on Shawn’s cheek and added a playful pat to his ass.

Shawn whined again, pulling the extra pillow over his face while Bret stood and stretched.

“Dramatic ass…” Bret huffed under his breath, earning a pillow thrown straight to his face.

“Am not,” Shawn sat up, his hair sticking up in every direction and the sleep still in his eyes.

“Do you want breakfast or not?” Bret chucked the pillow right back but Shawn got lucky and caught it.

The blonde shook his head, “I’ll figure something out there.”

“Alright, well get up, we’re leaving in fifteen,” Bret said as he threw a t-shirt on.

“Jesus- okay, you're so bossy,” Shawn grumpily stood, his back stiff.

At the arena, they stalled backstage with each other. Shawn would have to go do his pre-show ritual with Hunter and the guys and Bret would do his with his friends. They probably wouldn't see each other till the match, but it was for the best.

Most people backstage knew they were a ‘thing’ but it was better not to raise eyebrows before a pay-per-view. Shawn had gotten quiet on the ride over, and Bret could tell the nerves were starting to get to him.

Bret felt his own version of pre-show nerves, but it wasn't about his performance, it was about how he was going to make Shawn look out there. There was a bit of sadness in dropping the title, but he had gotten over that. He needed to put Shawn over, that's what mattered.

“You feeling okay?” Bret asked, hiking his gym bag higher up on his shoulder.

Shawn nodded while fidgeting with his hands, “I’m fine, just a little nervous.”

Bret leaned in and placed a soft kiss to Shawn’s lips, “You’re The Show Stopper, remember?” He titled Shawn's chin up with a finger.

They hadn't discussed Shawn’s confession over the phone a few days ago. Bret wanted to when he first saw Shawn after their few days off, but he’d been shut down. Shawn acted like everything was normal which threw Bret off entirely. How could he just confess that he was in love with Bret and then act like nothing happened?

He was beginning to wonder if he had misheard Shawn, but he’d worry about it later. After tonight, Shawn would be champion, and they had all the time in the world to figure life out as it came at them.

The look of affection in Shawn’s eyes made him melt. Bret was so wrong about Shawn initially- he was someone who felt his emotions fully and wore them on his sleeve. Shawn wasn't perfect by any means, but he was perfect for Bret.

Bret who was calm, cool, and collected- Bret who couldn't talk to people without stumbling over his words. He needed someone like Shawn to bring him out of his shell. It was a balance he’d never known before.

Shawn nodded, the confidence slowly coming back to him, “I know.”

“Good,” Bret gave him one last kiss while they were still hidden from peaking eyes, “I’ll see you out there.”

The rest of the day went by quickly. Both Bret and Shawn were so busy with media interviews and pre-show prep that by the time Bret was warming up, the show had already started.

Owen and Jim had their own tag match to worry about and Davey was technically ‘barred from ringside’ which of course meant he’d interrupt the match at the worst possible moment, hopefully causing the LOD their tag titles. Bret didn't know the outcome and he didn't want to, he still liked to suspend his disbelief and enjoy wrestling for what it was.

He was backstage alone, watching the monitor and waiting for his time to hit gorilla. He went over the match in his head while he waited, the belt laid across his lap. The bright gold contrast with the black leather always caught his eye.

Bret was proud of his time as champion, he was a fighting champion, someone who earned his spot. The feeling was bittersweet; he would miss being at the top but his time was up. That's how this company worked. Shawn deserved it more than anyone Bret could think of, besides maybe his little brother, but that was a fight he wouldn't dare get in the middle of.

The belt would look so good in Shawn’s hands, Bret couldn't wait to see the smile on his face when he held it up for the first time. He ran his fingers across the gold plate, admiring its shine. There would be other chances for him to get the belt back, it was a competition, and that part never stopped. It took Bret too much time to realize he could be happy either way.

After a while, Bret eventually got restless and left the locker room. He’d be early to gorilla but that way he’d get to see Owen and the guys after their match.

There were still plenty of monitors for Bret to watch the match. Owen, as always, was a spitfire in the ring. He was fast and athletic as hell; a wonder to watch. It wasn't long before Davey interfered and Owen got the pin.

Bret was ecstatic, for a brief moment in time the Hart Foundation would be covered in championships. However short that time was going to last didn't matter; the moment Owen, Jim, and Davey appeared they were all smiles and sweaty hugs.

“Proud of you, little brother,” Bret gave Owen a rough pat on the shoulder and ruffled his blonde hair like he was a kid again.

Owen was beaming, “You get out there and kick some ass, big brother.”

“Always do,” Bret winked and gave Jim and Davey their congratulations before they headed backstage.

It would be a few more minutes till Bret’s music hit. He needed to focus again. It was go-time; he ran over important parts of the match in his head while he stayed warm. Before long, the boss came over to wish him good luck with a tight nod and a look in his eye that said ‘you know what to do.’

Bret’s music hit the speakers and he took in the roar of the crowd. Taking one last deep breath, he slung the title over his shoulder, lowered his sunglasses, and walked out. Bret took it all in, the fans reaching out to touch him, the bright lights- he relished in the rewards of his hard work.

As he made his way down the aisle, he stopped to give a little girl his sunglasses, she was jumpy and giddy with excitement. That was always one of the best parts of his job. After that, Bret climbed into the ring and held the title up one last time.

The music dimmed along with the lights. Bret handed the belt to a staff member, mentally parting ways, and stood in the corner as he waited for Shawn’s music to play.

It could have been ten seconds or thirty minutes and Bret wouldn't have known the difference, but his heart rate began to spike the moment that iconic entrance began. He was expecting something extravagant like Shawn coming down from the rafters or sneaking up on him from behind, but the blonde made his appearance from the top of the ramp.

Shawn was all hips and confidence as he swaggered down the aisle, white tassels swinging every which way. God, he looked good. He always did, but it was Shawn’s confidence that dragged Bret in even further.

Bret kept his face as neutral as possible, he had to act like he was indifferent to Shawn, or like he was better than him. Which wouldn't have been hard to do a few months ago, but since everything had changed, all Bret wanted to do was admire his partner.

They finally made eye contact when Shawn stepped into the ring. It wasn’t easy keeping the smile off his face, but Bret managed, even as he secretly admired the way Shawn shimmied off his ring gear. Maybe it was wishful thinking, but he could’ve sworn Shawn threw a wink or two in there.

As the music died down and the lights came up, the ref made sure they were both ready and soon the bell rang. Bret’s mind shifted; it was time to go to work.

They circled each other for a bit, building tension for the crowd before starting with the standard lockup.

“You look nervous Hitman,” Shawn teased.

“In your dreams, Michaels,” Bret replied as he used his momentum to sling Shawn into the ropes.

The blonde bounced back, aiming for a clothesline that Bret dodged last second. They played this cat-and-mouse game for a while; one of them running the ropes and the other evading. Things were going smoothly so far.

The playful banter also continued. Specifically, the first pinfall when Shawn practically had Bret’s knees over his shoulders. He swiftly kicked out on two.

“You should let me see you like that more often,” Shawn whispered in Bret’s ear, pulling him back to his feet.

“Maybe if you play nice,” Bret got out before being slammed into the turnbuckle.

The match was starting to heat up, the crowd was into it. Different chants could be heard throughout the arena, and it was time to start building to the bigger spots. It was Bret’s turn to counter.

Shawn ran at him full speed from the opposite side of the ring right into a spinebuster. Bret got the cover, but of course, Shawn kicked out.

“Usually, you let me hold you down,” Bret said as he caught his breath for a moment.

Chest heaving, Shawn turned on his side so his mouth was mostly covered from the crowd, “Usually, I get something out of it.”

Bret stood slow and grabbed Shawn by the hair, making it look like he was yanking the blonde up by the hair, “That’s not very nice.”

Shawn’s eyes were squeezed together as he feigned pain, “I thought you like when I talk back?”

“Only if I get something out of it,” Bret let go of Shawn’s hair and swung him into the ropes, throwing the blonde over his shoulder when he came back.

After a few elbow drops and more failed pin-falls, Shawn sent Bret over the top rope, crashing into the barricade. Fans reached to touch him and cheer him on, but Bret had to shake off the fog that overcame his mind. He hadn’t hit his head, but something had shifted.

He sat up slowly, favoring his right shoulder, and took in the sight of Shawn in the ring. He was on top of the world; the crowd cheering him on as he taunted, everything about him was a superstar. As he watched Shawn sprint from the other side of the ring and barrel towards him from over the top rope, Bret realized something.

He was in love.

Shawn’s weight hit him with a thud and the crowd lost it.

How ironic for Bret to realize he was in love while said individual was beating the shit out of him. It just made too much sense; their relationship hadn’t been conventional from the start. Why start now?

Loving Shawn was so simple yet entirely complicated. If the last few months had taught Bret anything, it was that life threw curveballs at you when you least expected it. Going from hating Shawn’s guts to not being able to breathe without him was something he had never expected, but it felt so right.

They were two opposite ends of the spectrum that balanced each other out, the final two puzzle pieces to fit it all together. It was never about the belt, it was about Bret letting go of control, and Shawn gave him that ability. To accept. Shawn had just realized it before him.

The match continued and Bret was more than happy to play along. Their in-ring styles complemented each other perfectly, and this could easily become one of Bret’s favorite matches of all time. Even if he was biased.

Bret rolled back into the ring after leaving Shawn on the ground from a brutal suplex. They were getting near the finale, but first Bret had to show off a little bit.

He waited for Shawn in the corner of the ring, making it look like he was exhausted to the crowd. In reality, the adrenaline could keep him going for much longer, but he’d save that energy for later.

Shawn finally stood and trudged his way into the ring, the crowd impatient for more action. Bret waited for his cue and threw Shawn to the ring floor. He looked to the crowd and called for the Sharpshooter.

After that, things got fuzzy again for Bret. The roaring of the crowd was coming in and out, and the only thing he could really feel was the weight of Shawn’s legs as he turned the blonde over and locked in the submission move.

The ref was practically bouncing back and forth between the two of them, seeing if Shawn would tap or if Bret would give. He could hear Shawn’s groans of agony through the fog, but he’d never remember how long he held the Sharpshooter for.

The next thing he knew, he was being rolled over into a pinfall and kicked out at the last second. Shawn had reversed his move. Bret faced the opposite direction and stood, preparing himself for what was coming next.

He could hear the stomps of Shawn’s boots on the ring and the crowd getting louder along with it. This was it. Bret turned and was met with Sweet Chin Music.

He landed on the ground with a thunderous noise and Shawn was quick to cover him.

“Thank you,” Shawn whispered.

One. Two. Three.

The bell rang and it was over. Shawn’s music hit and the crowd was on their feet.

Bret didn't say anything but gave Shawn’s hand a reassuring squeeze. He’d be able to say anything he wanted to soon enough.

They announced Shawn as the winner and new champion over the speakers and Bret knew that was his cue to head back up the ramp. He rolled out of the ring and slowly backed away. The look of Shawn celebrating was a beautiful picture; his boyhood dream came true. It had all been worth it.

It reminded Bret of the first time he held that belt in his hands, it was a feeling unlike any other, but it wasn't about him. This moment was about Shawn, and he’d give the man he loved that time. As he continued backing up the ramp, a few fans shouted their dismay, but it all blended together.

The last thing he saw before turning to head backstage was Shawn holding the belt up to the crowd and drinking in their approval.

Once backstage, he was greeted with handshakes and pats on the back from everyone; Owen, Davey, and Jim goaded about how technical the match had been. Owen was jumping with excitement, not yet coming down from his own match. Even Kevin, Scott, and Kid gave their approval.

Hunter approached him last, “Amazing match.”

Bret gestured toward the ramp entrance, “It was all him.”

“Maybe he brings out the best in you,” Hunter offered.

Bret didn't even have to think about it, “Maybe he does.”

He gave Hunter a pat on the shoulder and then headed further backstage for water and a towel. As he waited for Shawn, he caught his breath and savored a minute of alone time. His mind was starting to clear when he saw Shawn finally enter the back.

The blonde was immediately swarmed with people congratulating him and making him take pictures. Bret almost laughed to himself, he could tell Shawn wanted to get away but such was the life of a champion. The blonde was at least excited to see his friends, including Bret’s half.

A moment later, their eyes met, and Shawn’s smile grew wide. He ran towards Bret, the title falling from his shoulder halfway, and jumped into his arms causing them to spin around. Bret held on tight, squeezing Shawn in his arms.

“Congrats, baby,” Bret’s voice was muffled by Shawn’s shoulder.

“Bret, it was incredible,” Shawn practically squealed before Bret set him down.

Shawn pulled him into a kiss and if Bret was sure before, he was positive now. There was no doubt in his mind that Shawn was meant to be his and vice versa; in the most insane way, they fit together.

“Shawn,” Bret pulled back for a moment, trying to find his words.

All this time, the fighting, the drama- it was all to get here. It was all so Bret could finally dig down into the depths of his soul to figure out how to love someone and let someone love him in return. Bret squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, leaning his forehead against Shawn’s. The words were there, he just had to say them. Three words that he hoped Shawn already knew. It took everything in him, but he’d die trying before he gave up.

Bret pulled back to look Shawn in the eyes, those sparkling blue eyes that were so full of life, “I love you.”

Before Shawn could respond Bret had the sudden will to continue, “I love you. I love your laugh, I love your smile, I love your friends, the way your nose crinkles when you try to read something from far away but you refuse to get glasses. I love how you snore and the way you-”

Shawn shut him up with a kiss; one that said everything that needed to be said between them. They were by no means perfect, but Bret was looking forward to every step of the way with the man he loved.

Bret moved to grab Shawn’s belt from the ground, “Less than ten minutes as the champion and you're already losing this thing.”

“That’s what I have you for, right?” Shawn took the title and threw it over his shoulder, “To remember my stuff and carry my bags?”

Bret huffed a laugh at the blonde’s teasing and took Shawn’s hand in his own, “Take me home, champ.”

***

*EPILOGUE*

*A few months later*

Bret hated his birthday. All it did was remind him that he was one year older and that his body hurt more and more every day, but Shawn insisted on celebrating. The last thing he wanted was a big party, which had been Shawn’s initial plan, so they settled on inviting Bret’s family over for dinner.

In the last few months, Shawn had been staying with Bret in Calgary whenever they had time off work, but they hadn’t yet discussed the idea of moving in together. That was still a little ways down the road, and they were both content with where their relationship stood for the moment. It was nice to be excited about time off instead of just anticipating getting back on the road.

The dinner was nice, Bret hadn't wanted anything fancy so they settled on Italian and Shawn turned out to be quite the chef. Owen and his family were there along with a bunch of their other siblings and their families. Shawn was a natural with all of Bret’s nieces and nephews, which in turn earned him a side-eye and a smile from one of his sisters.

“Absolutely not,” Bret nearly choked.

They hadn’t even been together for six months let alone had the thought of children. That was something they could discuss in ten years, maybe five if they were feeling spry. Bret knew she was doing it to tease him but that was something his sister couldn't torture out of him right now.

Shawn had to practically beg Bret to let him get a cake, but eventually, he agreed. If anything it was for the kids to eat, at least that's what Bret told himself until Shawn cut him a giant piece after everyone embarrassed him with that stupid ‘Happy Birthday’ song.

“It’s your birthday, you don't have to be so strict about your diet,” Shawn gave him a peck on the cheek and set the plate in front of him.

Bret didn't mean to be so grumpy, but sometimes that was just his disposition and he was very fortunate to have so many people who loved him despite it.

“Thanks, babe,” He gave Shawn a smile.

The cake was amazing and Bret knew he might have overindulged when he ended up on the couch with a hand on his stomach because of how full he was. He looked at Shawn in the kitchen and waved him over.

“One sec!” Shawn set down whatever he was doing and gestured for Owen to follow him.

Bret watched his brother and boyfriend leave out the front door with a confused look on his face. Whatever they were up to was obviously not good, but Bret didn't have the energy to bother getting up.

One second turned into thirty minutes and now Bret was starting to get a little concerned. Everyone else seemed fine, though. So there wasn't much that he could do.

Eventually, Owen burst through the door with a grin on his face, “We’re back!”

“Where did you guys go?” Bret furrowed his brow.

“Nun ya,” Owen replied and jumped over the edge of the couch to take a seat like the big kid he was.

Shawn eventually appeared with a medium-sized gift box in his arms; it was wrapped in blue wrapping paper with a giant purple bow on top. Bret should have known what to expect when he told Shawn he didn't want any gifts.

“Everything else is in Owen’s car, but this is the most important one,” Shawn said giddily as he sat next to Bret.

“What do you mean everything else?” Bret pinched the bridge of his nose.

“You’ll see,” Shawn grinned and set the box on Bret’s lap, “Don’t shake it, it’s fragile.”

Bret looked around the room as his family waited for him to open up the box; the kids were even more eager to see what was inside.

Before he could even notice the holes on the top, the box moved. It took a moment for Bret to register what that meant.

“Shawn,” Bret said deadpan, giving the blonde a look of disbelief.

“Open it,” Shawn nudged him with an elbow.

“Shawn, if there's a live animal in he-”

Bret was interrupted by the tiniest squeak he had ever heard in his life. He sighed and took the lid off the box.

So much for his hard exterior, because the moment Bret laid eyes on the tiny black and white kitten in the box, he melted.

“I don't- How did-” Bret tried but quickly shut himself up and reached into the box to pick up the kitten.

There was a little makeshift purple collar on the kitten’s neck that was decorated with flowers and Bret couldn't help but recognize them.

“Isn’t she perfect?” Shawn leaned his head on Bret’s shoulder and gave the kitten a scratch, “She’s been staying at Owen’s since I picked her out. We had to run back to his place to go grab her.”

Bret was still at a loss for words. The kitten was already playing with his fingers like she owned the place. Which she absolutely already did.

“All the supplies are in the car,” Shawn added, “I think she likes you, already.”

The kitten let out another tiny meow and rubbed her face against Bret’s hand. His hand that dwarfed this tiny creature.

“We’ll work on your roar later,” Bret smiled and scratched her chin, “Does she have a name?”

The blonde looked up at Bret and then back to the kitten, “Not yet, but I think I have a good idea.”

Bret raised a brow, “Oh?”

Shawn snuggled into Bret’s side and let out a very content sigh, “I was thinking Orchid.”

[keiththecat]

Most Vicious Animal

Pairings: Platonic Sam Winchester x Reader (You), Platonic Dean Winchester x Reader (You)

Summary: You're bored and ask the Winchester brothers a silly question.

Word Count: 521

Author's Note: Hello friends! Just a short little something inspired by a real conversation. As always, Y/N is your name, and feedback is always welcome. Thanks for reading <3

Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, or any of the related characters. The Supernatural series is created by Eric Kripke and owned by The CW Network. This work of fan fiction is for entertainment only. I am not making a profit of any kind from this story. All rights of the original Supernatural series belong to The CW Network.

AO3 link here

You had run into the Winchester brothers several times over the years before you finally moved into the bunker with them. There wasn’t really a discussion that led to it either; you all clicked so well that you just went back with them after a hunt, and now you’ve been living with them for months. Sometimes the three of you hunt together, sometimes it’s just them or just you, and sometimes it’s you with one of the brothers. You got along equally with both brothers, and you often spent your downtime hanging with one or both of them.

Now, you are having a slow day with both brothers in the bunker library. Sam has his face buried in a book and Dean is scrolling on a laptop. You are sitting sideways in a chair, legs hanging over the arm of the chair and your back against the other arm. You’re staring at the ceiling in boredom. “Hey Sam?” you ask.

“Hm?” Sam responds, acknowledging you but still reading his book.

“What is the biggest, most vicious animal you think you could beat in a fight?”

“Um, I don’t know, maybe like a wolf or something,” he answers, brushing off your question.

A few moments of silence pass, Sam absorbed in his book again. “You’re no fun,” you accuse. “Dean, what about you?”

“Depends,” Dean closes the laptop, clasping his hands and setting them on top of it, giving you his full attention. “Can I pick the fighting arena?”

“Uhhh, sure, why not.” You figure it can’t hurt, and you want to see how far Dean will take this.

“A great white.” He states confidently.

You stare at him in disbelief, eyebrows raised. “A shark?”

He nods as if it’s the most obvious answer, “on land. A beached great white. I could throat punch it.”

Sam’s attention now fully on the conversation, he looks up from his book to give Dean the most are-you-kidding-me glare, and you burst into laughter. “The lack of water would kill it before you could! That doesn’t count!”

“Not if I throat punch it fast enough! I’ll kill it first!” Dean argues, seeming offended.

You are laughing so hard there are tears forming in your eyes.

“What?” Dean asks. “You didn’t give any rules. I could fight a shark!”

“If Dean gets to do that, I’m changing my answer,” Sam says. “I could fight a frozen mammoth.”

“Mammoths aren’t real, Sam!” Dean yells, making you laugh even harder, tears pouring from your eyes.

“Not now, but they were, Dean! You said it yourself, there aren’t any rules!” Sam yells back.

“Boys! Boys!” you interrupt, trying to calm down and catch your breath. “You’re both cool and strong, no arguing.”

“Yeah, I’m so strong I could fight a great white,” Dean smugly states, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.

“Well what’s your answer?” Sam asks you.

“I wouldn’t,” you shrug, smiling, “I’d trip both of you and run away from whatever it is.”

Dean’s jaw drops and he places a hand on his chest, pretending to be offended. “How rude.”

“Smart though,” Sam says, nodding.

[angelinaheartshapedbox]

morbid attraction

Ethan Landry x reader

AU where Stu Macher has an illegitimate child. During Scream 6.

summary: Y/n is a freshman at Blackmore University. They're currently pursuing a bachelor's degree in forensic science to become an autopsy technician. To further their research, and to make money, they pick up shifts as a mortuary assistant. Y/n must come to terms with the trauma of gruesome murders of their hometown, copes with the memories of their ex girlfriend Amber Freeman, and with the fact that their father was a homicidal maniac. Running doesn't get them far from their past as it chases after them into New York City. But maybe there's light at the end of the tunnel. And maybe, just maybe, the light is Ethan Landry.

!!WARNINGS!! graphic descriptions of gore and violence, PTSD, and dealing with trauma. Major content warnings will be placed before each chapter.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

Voicemail (5)

I Don't Want To Die

Wordcount: 2k

Content warnings: violence, death, blood, more blood, depictions of gore. ethan did not have econ.

Quinn’s newest man of the evening had arrived, so she went to her room. Sam was upset that she’d invited someone who was basically a stranger to our apartment.

Sam brought out a few blankets and pillows for our friends. I was in the kitchen with Chad, Tara, and Mindy. We were all working to cook dinner.

“Sam, we do not have to stay here,” Mindy told her.

“Welp, too bad. I insist. Safety in numbers” Sam replied.

“This’ll be so fun. A little slumber party with the Alive Five!” Chad exclaimed.

“‘Alive Five’?” Sam asked.

“Yeah.”

Tara stared at him, “Did you just give us a nickname?”

Chad smiled, “I sure did. I mean we’ve been through a lot together and it’s a pretty cool nickname.”

“So true, Chad” I nod.

“That’s debatable,” Sam says.

“Extremely debatable,” Tara adds.

“You can’t just give yourself a nickname, dingus,” Mindy tells her brother.

Chad gives her a shit eating grin, “Of course I can, dingus, because I just did. Alive Five up top!”

“No.”

“Down low!”

Tara shakes her head, “Get that away from me.”

Chad turns to me and Sam with his hand, “Please, for the love of God.”

“Don’t do it,” Mindy laughs.

I obviously give him a high five, laughing evilly as my friends groan. I interlock my fingers with Chad’s and squeeze before letting go.

“You know, I would actually like a little more respect and support from my fellow members of the Alive Five.”

Anika interrupts us, “Guys, what the hell?” She turns up the TV as we file into the living room.

The newscaster starts talking about Sam being the lead suspect in the current murders. He discusses the rumors online about me and Sam being responsible for the killings last year. He said we were trying to “revive our fathers’ legacy” or some bullshit. The video of Sam yelling at that girl on the street the other night played.

Sam turned off the TV aggressively. She walked over to the dining table and sat by herself. Tara and I followed. We sat in silence until Tara spoke.

“I know you’re not a fan of the way that I’ve been handling things, and that I’ve been giving you a really hard time. But I can say that none of us can relate to what you are experiencing. And I’m really, really sorry you have to do that alone.”

Sam stifles tears, “It’s not your fault. And I know I shouldn’t care what people think,” she pauses, “It just sucks being this hated.”

“Hey, hey,” Chad says as he walks into the room with Mindy, “Just a reminder, not a single person in this room hates you.”

“Yeah, Sammy” I agree.

“Okay? We have all been through some fucked-up stuff, and we are coping with it differently. But you know we moved here together for one very specific reason.” Chad reminds Sam, “We’re a team.”

Mindy chimes in, “We are the Alive Fucking Five.”

“Thank you very much!”

“Ah, I hate myself.”

Chad and Mindy high five.

“Say it” I tell Tara.

“No, I’m not gonna say it,” she refuses, “I mean, yes, we are a team but-”

We’re all trying to get Tara to say it and we’re laughing.

Sam interrupts, “I’ve been sleeping with Cute Boy from across the hall.”

It’s quiet.

“Boom!”

We all erupt.

“I knew it, I knew it!”

“You called it.”

“Knew it from the day you had that hickey.”

After we calm down from Sam’s lover, Chad looks at me.

I gave him a suspicious look, “What?”

“Do you have any love affairs to confess?” he asks, wiggling his eyebrows.

“No?”

“Nothing with our tall, dorky friend?”

“Who may or may not be Ghostface” Mindy mumbles.

I look at the confused, “Ethan?”

“Yes, Ethan!” Chad bangs the table.

“No, I am not sleeping with Ethan!” my voice ups in pitch.

Chad gives me a look, “Hm.”

I argued with him about it. He claimed we’re too cuddly, so I rebudled that I’m cuddly in general. Sam backs me up by mentioning me in her bed last night. Mindy says I was flirting with him at the frat party because we were dancing. I said that I just wanted my friend to have fun. They let it go.

“I feel like we should high five or something,” Tara says.

“The Alive Five high five, please?”

“Don’t call it that.”

We all high five in the middle and interlace our fingers. For a minute I feel safe, I feel okay. It feels like a real family where I belong. Sam’s phone rings and it’s Cute Boy. We make fun of her for a moment and she declines his call. Quinn is heard moaning in the other room.

“Oh, my God, Quinn and her gentleman caller are back at it again” Tara jokes.

We all laugh as the moans and thuds get louder. All of our phones go off. We’ve been airdropped a picture of Quinn being attacked by Ghostface.

“Help! Stop!”

We all jump up from the table and sprint towards Quinn’s room. Chad grabs Tara’s arm and pulls her away before she gets to the door. We all stop and stare. It’s silent.

“Run.”

The door swings open and the killer throws Quinn’s body. Everyone is screaming.

“You guys come on!” Tara screams, running out with Chad. I watched Lucifer run out with them.

The killer slices Mindy’s arm. Anika starts fighting him from the floor. He grabs her by the throat. I watch her as she struggles to breathe.

“Hey, fuckhead!” I scream, kicking him in the side.

I trip over myself and hit the floor. I kick and scurry backwards as the killer crawls towards me. He grips my ankle and pulls me towards him. I kick my legs and shove his face away. He stabs me in my right thigh. I scream in pain and kick him in the face. The force makes him pull the knife out of me and step backwards.

Anika tries to latch onto him again. He grabs her by the throat and pins her to the wall. The knife is plunged into her stomach, he drags and twists it upwards. She cries and shrieks. Sam comes running in with the wooden knife holder and smacks him over the head.

We run into Tara’s room and lock the door. I grab a belt from the floor and a pen. Mindy grips her gaping wound. We remember that the bathroom connects through the rooms. Mindy rushes to close the bathroom door.

“Oh, fuck! That guy’s dead!”

The killer comes running at the door. Sam and Mindy force it shut and deadbolt it. I take the belt and pen and tighten them above my bleeding wound. I’m bleeding a lot. There’s a major artery that I’m worried has been severed. All the while, Mindy and Sam are blockading the door. Anika is practically bleeding out in front of me. We’re all screaming and crying and bleeding.

Cute Boy from across the hall calls out to Sam from the window. She rushes over. He pushes a ladder in between the two windows.

“You three go first. Mindy!” Sam yells.

“What? No. Someone needs to hold the door. I’ll send Y/n and Anika next. Go!” Mindy replies.

The killer bangs on the door. I can tell he’s throwing his whole body weight against the door.

Sam crosses the makeshift bridge as Danny sends words of encouragement.

“We’re losing a lot of blood!” I shout at Sam as I limp to the window.

Anika groans, “Say something more positive!”

Sam makes it across and I pull myself with my upper body across the ladder as fast as I can. I wince and whine, crying harder as my wound drags. I finally made it across. Anika forces Mindy to go next. She gives her one last kiss before crawling across to us.

Anika gets onto the ladder, “Oh, God! I can’t do it!” She slowly crawls.

The killer comes up to the window.

“Anika, you have to move now!”

I scream, “Come on, we got you!”

The killer grabs onto the ladder and shakes it vigorously, Anika shrieks and cries. She keeps trying to crawl as Mindy screams.

“Baby, I don’t want to die!” Anika yelps out. She takes Sam’s hand.

The killer completely knocks Anika off the ladder. She falls. We watch as her head crashes into the dumpster below, then hits the hard concrete. Her skull bleeds onto the pavement. I passed out.

When I come to, I’m in an ambulance. My leg is being stitched up. The EMT sees that I’m awake. The sun is starting to rise.

“Hey, that tourniquet was a good idea” The medic tells me, “You might’ve saved your life.”

I gulped and nodded. I see my friends in the ambulance across from me. They see me too. The medics, police officers, and crime scene investigators litter the place. I overhear multiple indistinct conversations.

I see Ethan duck under the crime scene tape. Chad sees him too.

“Chad?”

Chad rushes over to him. He grabs him by his collar, “Where were you?!”

Ethan is confused, “What? When?”

“Last night!”

I yell, “Chad, stop!”

“I had Econ. You know this!”

“Bullshit, man! You disappear, and my sister almost gets killed!”

“Chad!” I yelp, leaving the ambulance. The medic yells after me. I half-run over to the boys, my stitches tearing. “Chad, it wasn’t him!”

Chad looks at me, “How do you know that, Y/n? ‘Cause he’s your little boy toy? He couldn’t hurt you?”

I grip my thigh and wince, “Oh, fuck. No! Because I kicked that fucker in the fucking face! Ethan doesn’t even have a bruise! And whoever it was definitely has a broken nose.”

Chad lets Ethan go, he walks away.

I moan, using both my hands to squeeze my thigh. I start to cry and crumble to the floor.

Ethan grabs me, “Oh, fuck. Th-that’s a lot of blood. Oh, my God. Y/n!”

He helps me back over to the ambulance where they have to re-stitch me. I sob and hiss in pain. Ethan sits next to me. I grab his hand and squeeze it with all of my strength.

“Fuck!” I scream. I clench my teeth, my breath ragged. I sound like a kicked puppy. The adrenaline has worn off and now I’m just in agony.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Ethan whispered.

I couldn’t speak in anything but jumbled sobs. The medic was done stitching me, but I was still weeping. Ethan softly shushes me, pulling himself closer. I gulp and breathe heavily.

I looked into his eyes, “Ethan, it was so scary.” I wrap my arms around myself and fall forward onto him. His arms place themselves around me and I cry into his chest. “Oh, my God, they’re dead!”

“You’re okay,” he says softly, “I’m here. I’ve got you.”

“I don’t want to die.”

Ethan pulls back slightly, “Hey, look at me.” His hand meets my cheek, his thumb wipes tears. “You’re not going to die.” His tone is suddenly serious.

I shake my head, “You don’t know that.” I look at the ground and let more tears fall.

“I said look at me,” Ethan adjusts my face to look at him.

I tremble in his fingers. His eyes meet mine. He looks at me with the harshest expression I’ve ever seen on him. He puts his other hand on my face and says:

“Anyone who tries to kill you is dying first.”

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masterlist

a/n: tehe i like this one

[dduane]

hello! i've never read your work before (i'm a lil french boy and your stuff has never come up before, i really just saw your reblog on the star trek screenshot and got curious) but ive been meaning to get into reading again, and you seemed so nice so i felt comfortable to ask:

do you have any recs in your work in fantasy ; magic is very cool but i really dislike the harry potter style magic (i really enjoyed brandon sanderson's work tho, such fun and interesting magic styles and world building!!) i've always loved good dark steampunk too, my favourite game franchise is Dishonored if you know of it

i'm always too hesitant to pick up books on my own and rely on recommandations 😰

i hope you feel better soon too! Food poisoning is so exhausting, so sending you my best wishes

(waving at you) Hey, thanks for the good wishes. The food poisoning seems to be over now. (I had a run-in with a salad that either had dodgy lettuce or dodgy dressing: the jury is still out on which.)

About those fantasy recs: My fantasy at the moment (excepting various standalone books) comes in two flavors—the LGBTQ-centered Middle Kingdoms works, and the YA-oriented Young Wizards series. At the moment I'd suggest that the YW books might be a good place for you to start, particularly because the first two of them are available in France from Lumen éditions, which brought them out some years back. (These were also translated from the newer, 2011/2012-revised editions of the books, and are presently the only traditionally-published versions that were set from the NMEs.) Amazon.fr has them here and here.

And just in case you're concerned—the magic style and general ethos of these books are absolutely nothing like what appears in the Potter books (which I guess is no surprise, since the first book of the series came out when certain other writers were just starting college). I have absolutely no patience with the wave-your-wand-and-shit-just-happens style of magic... or with wizardry that only happens on one planet, or to one species. So I think you're in for a very different experience here. :) And there are plenty of YW fans around if you want to discuss what you've found.

Meanwhile, thanks for asking! À bientôt.