#ideas that are too long for ang to write

[authorangelita]

What if... In 1997, a huge tornado ripped through Mac's hometown in Oklahoma, killing his mother when he was 5 years old.  His father, a storm chaser, was away from home when it happened. 

The rest of this is under a cut for possible Twister/Twisters spoilers.

Mac grew up to study tornadoes and, in present day, is working on a way to stop tornadoes in their tracks.  A tornado tamer, one might say. 

The Phoenix Foundation funds Mac's research.  Matty is the director, coordinating the money and the equipment that Mac needs.  Mac's team consists of Jack (has the instincts for what the tornado will do and drives the lead truck), Riley (runs the tech), and Bozer (data analyst and team cook).

Their rival is The Organization headed up by none other than James MacGyver himself.  His team consists of Murdoc (lead storm chaser), Nikki (runs the tech), and Henry Fletcher (data analyst).  They're chasing storms so they can develop a very early warning system and therefore make a lot of money. 

Both teams go chasing the same tornado... it goes badly... Mac has to choose between saving Jack or saving his dad. Angst ensues.

[leclerc-hs]

don't wake the kids - cl16

pairing: charles leclerc x nanny!reader (fem) summary: in which you got his daughter to finally fall asleep but risk waking her up not too long later warnings: 18+, slight smut, oral (f-receiving), bad french (please correct me i was tired while writing this lmao), not proofread!!!! word count: 1608 author’s note: i think i’ll write more for them bc i like the idea of single dad charles LMAO. this was fun xoxoxo

PART 2

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

THERE WAS SOMETHING about Mr. Leclerc that always made you stare at him in admiration. Maybe it was the fact that he always excelled at everything he did. For instance, raising a daughter on his own couldn’t have been easy. Hell, merely spending a single night watching over his kid has you feeling thoroughly drained. So, when Charles came home to you sprawled along his couch with the TV on a low volume, he wasn’t surprised. In fact, the sight brought a grin to his lips. You were the absolute cutest thing he had ever seen. Aside from his own daughter of course.

You weren’t even aware of the impact you left on him and his daughter. There wasn’t a day where you weren’t mentioned by his daughter. She adored you, and he did too.

“Comment était-elle?” How was she?  His voice was deep as he dropped his keys on the table of the entry way table. “Fatiguée?” Tired?

You barely moved as he approached the room, too comfortable to even sit all the way up for him. His hands rest in the pockets of his dress pants as he leaned up against the arch of the living room, suit jacket slung over his shoulder, eyes never straying from yours. 

You felt yourself swallowing harshly at the sight of him. He’s so fucking hot. “Elle était un ange!” She was an angel! There was a soft glow of moonlight that seeped through the curtains, casting a gentle radiance on the room as you whispered those words. You were whispering, careful to not wake her in the next room over. But also, in attempt to hide the desire in your voice. It would be a complete lie if you said you didn’t find him attractive. If you didn’t think about him that way.

With a subtle exhalation, Charles gracefully moved away from the archway, making his way towards the couch. He lowered himself onto the couch beside you, his head finding a comfortable perch on the back cushions, a gentle smile gracing his features. His legs extended languidly, and the contours of his thigh muscles subtly asserted themselves through the delicate fabric of his dress pants.

Turning his head to look at you, “Would you mind staying in the spare room tonight?” 

His eyes, an enchanting shade of green, held you captive in a mesmerizing trance. Lost in their depths, his question became a distant echo, momentarily forgotten in the captivating allure of those verdant depths.

It wasn’t an abnormal question. At least, not anymore it wasn’t. You’ve been watching his daughter for months now and have occasionally crashed at his when it was too late at night. When you didn’t answer right away, lost in thought, Charles felt the need to wearily add an “I’m too tired to take you home.”

It’s not that you didn’t have your license, but you didn’t have a car. And because it meant more money, you always said yes. At least you always told yourself it was for the money. But it really was for all the times you got to see a shirtless Charles in the morning. His hair all disheveled, eyes full of sleep. The rasp in his voice. And also, the breakfast.

His hand swiftly dropped to your exposed thigh, the tennis skirt adorning your body doing little to cover you. He patted the area right above your knee softly for your attention, “Je suppose que tu n’as pas de vêtements; je vais te trouver quelque chose.” I assume you don’t have clothes; I’ll grab you something. The touch was so miniscule, so quick, that you could barely grasp the concept that it happened before he was already standing.

Although staying over wasn’t new, borrowing his clothes was.

You found yourself unable to speak as he stood from the couch and made his way to his room. The air was charged with a delicate tension. You were convinced it was the suit that had you stumbling for words, or maybe the fact you haven’t had sex in months and Charles is just that fucking hot, and in front of you, looking at you, touching you.

“J’espère que cela est assez bon.” I hope these are good enough. Bathed in the gentle luminescence of the room, Charles gazes down at you with an intensity the captures the essence of the moment. In his hands, he holds a neatly folded pile of clothes, extending them toward you with a certain grace. A faint, sleepy smile graces your lips as you accept them. 

With a languid elegance, you begin to rise from the comfort of the couch, only to find Charles extending his hand toward you. His fingers confidently entwine with yours, pulling you up. Although, it seems Charles underestimated his strength because you are sent flying to your feet, awkwardly tripping in the process. But before you can make a total fool of yourself, Charles is slipping an arm around your waist, holding you to his chest.

You can feel your cheeks redden in embarrassment, “Je suis tellement désole.” I’m so sorry.

You feel Charles laugh reverberate in his chest, making you more alert of just how close you two were. “Ne sois pas désolée.” Don’t be sorry.

In that suspended moment, time seemed to stretch, creating a timeless place where you and Charles were encapsulated. Locked in a shared gaze, the world outside this intimate bubble ceased to exist. Uncertainty lingered in the air, an unspoken question hovering between you two. Charles’ firm hold persisted, grounding the moment in the tangible warmth of his touch. 

As the stillness enveloped you, his eyes were fixated on your flushed cheeks, a canvas painted in hues of warmth. The intensity of his gaze conveyed an admiration that transcended words. To Charles, the sight of your blushing complexion was nothing short of captivating – an endearing revelation of vulnerability that only heightened your allure.

“Tellement jolie,” So pretty. The words were so soft. Barely audible if it wasn’t for your proximity. It was as if he didn’t even know he said them out loud.

You felt frozen while trying to decide if this was a dream or not. But when the pads of Charles thumbs made way to your face, tracing your bottom lip slowly, you knew you were fucked.

“Est-ce que je peux?” Can I?

You wanted to scream. Yes! You felt your stomach churning with need. But externally, you were calm. You needed to be quiet.

You made the move to nod your head when his lips collided with yours. It was slow and tentative at first. Like he was trying to test the waters. He pulled away for a moment, eyes staring into yours once again, as if he needed to make sure you were okay with this.

But as soon as he saw your lips draw into a smile, he knew he was fucked.

The second time your lips met it was feverish and messy. All tongue and no air. The clothes that he handed you previously, now lay on the floor in a messy pile, your hands sliding around his neck. You both go tumbling down onto the couch.

He groaned quietly into your mouth – a sound as if the taste of you was something he craved his whole life. His hands dropped from your jaw, closing around your neck, as you felt him push your further into the couch cushion with the weight of his body.

“J’ai besoin de toi,” I need you.  You managed to slip the words out, your fingers trailing through his hair on the back of his head.

Before you had the chance to press your lips back together, he was pulling away, leaving you breathless and a little confused until his hands dropped to the waistband of your skirt. His fingers shoving their way in and pulling them down, your underwear being yanked off in the process. His gaze met yours once more, filled with anticipation and eagerness.

“Tu as l’air tellement putain de bien comme ça.” You look so fucking good like this.

Like this. Spread out and beneath him. Completely bare and whimpering for him. 

You could hear him curse to himself as he draped your leg over his shoulder, seeing how wet you already were. 

The first drag of his tongue on you was enough to make your back arch instantly. He groaned, his nose brushing against your clit as he dipped his tongue inside of you. Every dip of his tongue sent you bucking your hips harder against him. And he loved it. 

With every stoke of his tongue, your fingers fisted his hair tighter. You began to buck your hips, so close to reaching your orgasm, but he denied. His hands were quick to push your hips down onto the couch. He wanted to hear you beg. 

“Charles,” you sighed softly.

“Hm?” You didn’t even have to look at him to know he was smirking. His tongue was placing slow licks to your clit, light enough to keep you right on the edge.

“S’il te plaît.” Please.

Charles was back sucking on your clit in less than a second, his hands sliding up to your covered breasts, squeezing them. He moaned into your pussy, the sound enough to send you spiraling over the edge. You gripped onto anything that was near and placed it over your face, trying to cover the moans that were escaping your lips.

Your body shook as you pressed the pillow into your face. He licked you as you came down and didn’t stop until you were practically shoving him off.

His lips were glossy and puffy, coated with you. A smirk on his face as he stood up and looked down at you completely flushed on his couch, half bare. You looked at the bulge of his cock, pressing against the seams of his dress pants, and then back up at his eyes.

“Bedroom?”

[vinvantae]

Could you write the f1 grid reactions to their girlfriend enjoying privacy and not wanting to be in the spotlight at gps? Like for example choosing to go to the regular audience instead of the garage to watch races etc to avoid excessive cameras? If you don't want to do all could you do either Charles, Lewis, or Lando?

I won’t do all the drivers because I think there’s only so many reactions but I will do the three you’ve requested 🥰 sorry for the delay I’ve had a lot of stuff on recently!

***

Charles

Charles watched from across the room as you pulled your Ferrari cap over your head, adjusting it so you could slip your sunglasses on and off with ease. The two of you had been together for nearly two years now, but you had still never set foot inside the paddock - and whilst he understood your reasons, the selfish part of him really wanted you there this weekend. He was starting his home race from P1 and he was positive he had a real shot this year.

He cautiously stepped towards you, taking your hips in his hands so he could press a soft kiss to your shoulder.

“Are you sure I can’t convince you to join me in the garage, mon ange?” He hummed, resting his cheek against yours as you met his eyes in the mirror.

“Mhmm, I quite like being surrounded by your adoring fans.” You giggled, tilting your head so he could press kisses to your neck. “The roars of Monegasque feel all the more thrilling when you’re a part of it. Their home hero starting on pole? No way I’m missing out on that.”

Charles let you turn in his arms, your arms coming up to loop around his neck - you couldn’t help but smile at the fond look in his eyes as he looked at you. He really wished you were going to be at the barriers, so he could wrap you up in his arms when he finally won, but he knew all the cameras in your face would be too much for you.

“I’ll always respect your decision to enjoy the race from the grandstands, as long as you know if you ever change your mind, there’s a special spot in the back of my garage just for you.” His voice was soft as he nudged his nose against yours. “If they get too rowdy-”

“Charles, I’ll be okay… now, go win for me.”

Lewis

Being a 7 time world champion definitely came with its privileges - but privacy was not one of them. So keeping his relationship close to his chest was not only important to him but to you. You loved him more than words could ever describe, but the idea of walking through all of the press holding his hand was still daunting to you - so you preferred to support him nestled away in the crowds. In your 5 years together, somehow, you’d never been “exposed”, so blending in was easy.

Lewis was by no means ashamed of you, in fact, he was filled with nothing but pride when he spoke of you - but being able to keep his personal life private, out of the grasps of the greedy, was important to him as well. He spent his days with every movement, every word being picked apart by the media and he wanted to be able to protect you from it all.

“You could at least wear my merch, babe.” He laughed softly, as you emerged from the bathroom, donned in another team’s merchandise, holding his hands out for you to take. “How am I gonna do well knowing you’re in the crowd wearing that?”

You scoffed playfully, taking his hands, looking down at him from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I am wearing something for you… just for your eyes though.”

He quirked a brow, removing his hands from yours to hook his fingers into your waistband, pulling it away just enough to see his trademark colour against your skin hidden underneath. A groan left his lips and he lent his forehead against your middle.

“So…” you purred. “You gonna race well knowing what your prize is?”

“Fuck yes.”

Lando

Neon yellow was not your colour. When Lando first showed it to you, you weren’t sure it was anyone’s colour, but as you strolled through Silverstone - it seemed that it was everyone’s. You smiled softly to yourself as you adjusted your own hat, sidling up the grandstands to find your seat - nestled in between a group of Lando’s fans, who very quickly pulled you into the fray once they realised you were alone.

You’d ended up getting a seat at Luffield corner, not expecting your boyfriend’s car during the parade to pull up to be interviewed by Natalie. There was no way he’d ever know you were here - you told him you couldn’t make it, but in reality you wanted to enjoy it from the crowds.

The giggles that escaped you as his t-shirt cannon failed dramatically, made your heart swell. He’d come so far in the years you’d known him and to see him so adored was really special. You fished your phone out of your pocket when it buzzed, his name lighting up your screen, just moments before you knew he had to get into the car.

Miss u x

You smiled softly, turning as you felt a gentle tap on your shoulder. The girl smiled gently albeit a little awkwardly at you. “Hi, sorry, you’re y/n, Lando’s girlfriend, right?”

“That’s me.” You chuckled.

“How come you’re out here instead of in there?” She asked, her voice laced with curiosity, not judgement.

You turned a little in your chair to face her better. “Wanted to enjoy the race from the grandstands, I’ve always loved the atmosphere and just because I’m dating him I didn’t want to stop.”

She gave you a knowing nod. “That’s absolutely fair. Well, when you see him, can you tell him I said hi?”

“Hey, how about we all send him a good luck selfie? He’s probably not got his phone anymore but he’ll see it after the race.” You beamed.

Everyone crowded around you and you took a photo - their smiles practically lighting up the screen. You knew Lando would love it, so you sent it back.

We’re all rooting for you <3 You’ve got this!x

Lando was a little disappointed not to win the race, especially at home - he’d managed to hang on to the lead just for a little while, but it just wasn’t enough. All he wanted was to wrap himself up in your arms and feel sorry for himself for not being able to hold onto the lead, but you weren’t here. When he finally got a moment of peace, he checked his phone - eyes widening at the selfie.

You were here, nestled amongst the floods of neon - your smile somehow brighter. He tapped on your name to call you, tapping his foot against the floor - biting at the skin around his fingernails.

“Hi Lando.” Your voice sounded like a dream.

“How come you didn’t tell me you were here.” He knew he sounded whiny but he didn’t care, he needed you with him ASAP. “Could’ve watched from the garage… given me a good luck kiss.”

“Well, looks like you didn’t need it. You raced amazingly today, baby, I’m so proud of you… maybe I’ll meet you back at your hotel, show you how proud I am?”

Lando couldn’t help but jut his bottom lip out a little. “Sure I can’t tempt you to come to the garage?”

“I’m sure. Too flashy for me. I love you, see you in a little while.”

“I love you too. Bye babe.” He smiled to himself, hanging up the phone - holding it to his chest.

As much as he’d wished you were in the garage, he loved the part of you that wanted to enjoy races from the grandstands - experience the race how you wanted, not just using your relationship to waltz around the paddock.

Now… he just had to find the quickest way back to the hotel.

[dark-night-hero]

hi :'D man your writing of tragedy makes me want to cry and i love it

the first one i read from your works is zhongli losing y/n his mate because he wasnt there when a god wrecked havoc, so i got an idea.

neuvi's old old, and focalors invited him to be the iudex of fontaine right? during his early days in fontaine he struggled so much with interacting with humans. what if, he meets a human (y/n) who doesnt care that their new iudex had come from nowhere, and completely aids neuvi with communicating with humans and they form such a close bond that he doesnt understand, but right as he decides to go for it and ask yn he receives news of a new case ; yn's murder :D

i swear i did not mean for this ask to be long i am so sorry 😭

Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.

That is the human on Neuvillette, the new iudex of Fontaine. He does not even know why he accepted such invitation. In the first place, his hesrt was distant from the people. His imagine of them was quite... bad. Maybe that was just his discrimination, but the more he get to stand on trial, then more distorted his imagine of mortals become.

And then he met you. You who was a human, but different from the humans that the knew. You were just... different. You do not look at him with fear nor do you look at him with indifference. The way you act around him, you just act like yourself.

He met you in a rainy day, a rainy day after a trial. He was walking unbothered under the rain, when a figure with umbrella started walking towards him. "Ah- Ah! Mister-!" At first, he ignore it despite the softness of the voice whom was talking to him. "Wait-!" He was avoiding people as good as he can. He saw no good in interacting with them.

"Hey!" He was getting pissed to be honest, the rain was getting heavier and once in a while a thunder could be heard. He was ready to brush the person off when suddenly, the rain stopped. There was an umbrella over his head. "Are you crazy! At this rate you're going to get sick!" What? Neuvillette was stunned, letting himself get dragged by this mortal who does not seem to recognise him or did they? "Iudex or not, what are you thinking walking under the pouring rain? Here! Take this umbrella!" After going under some shade, he watch you left him out much thought, he was holding your umbrella as you only have your hands protecting you from the rain.

You are weird. Weird in a good way that does not make sense. Maybe it was a coincidence, but after thatm he kept bumping into you. In his walk in his way into the court and when he was coming back from the court. In the path he talk, you were always there talking to him even though he does not reply. Still, it was strange how with you, he felt comfort.

"It's raining again, and here you are walking under the rain. Seriously, what's with you?" ... "Rather than that, what's with you?" "Me? What's wrong with me?" "You're different from other." "What makes me different from them?" He did not answer after that, for he too does not know what to say. How weird.

You were pretty close to him. He does not know how, but many all those walk together with you was working. In the end, he found himself completely relax and comfortable around you. "Now that I think about it. I'm your only friend, no?" ... "gasp! For real?" "Humans... I found them rather hard to communicate with." After all those trials, he does not know what to think about humans anymore. That is why he found you weird. "Why? Why is that?!" You pout. "Well..." He stopped walking and ponder for a while. "Maybe it's because I have seen mostly the dark side of humans that I cannot seem to know what to think and say to them." He replied after a little while. "Hey! That's totally unfair! If you try hard enough to know more about us there is more than the dark side there is to see!" "Hmmm. I doubt..." "No! Seriously, you jut have to open up your heart to the people and you will see the goodness in their heart." You laugh. To be honest, he does know that. After all, there was no other ways he could describe you but a good person and perhaps, maybe even more than that. But to open his heart to the people other than you... "Right... I'll think about it."

Neuvillette always find it difficult to interact with people. Most of the time he had this instinct to stay away from them. Maybe it has something to do with their origins, he was a high being after all and humans. Humans are just... humans. Nevertheless from the moment he have met you, he knew he was doomed. Doomed to understand humans. From the moment he get to know more of you, the more he mindset starts to change. Maybe... maybe humans are not as bad a he thought them to be.

"Are you okay?" The cafe was not crowded. It was almost midnight when the two of you decided to go into one. "Of course! Why wouldn't I be?" You asked with a smile on your face. Nevertheless Neuvillette did not fail to notice the way your eyes quickly scan the surroundings, the way you seemed to be anxiously playing with your fingers. But then, you are looking at him dead in the eyes telling him you are fine. Maybe it was nothing. "It's getting dark, shall we go?"

That night, Neuvillette decided to give it a try. Maybe just as you said, humans are not bad as he thought they would be. Maybe just like you said, all he need to do is to open his heart to the people and see things in a different perspective. Thinking about it makes his lips curl up, thinking how joyful you would be if he were to tell you that in person. But.

Humans can be cruel ang cunning creatures. If not then crimes and wars would have never happened. They are beings who are capable of hurting each other for the sake of their own gain. They would not hesitate to use each other and kill each other.

"What is this?" His hands were shaking. "Earlier a citizen named (First name) (Lastname) was found mur-?! Monsieur?! Where-" He rush out the room. He run and run and run until he was under the heavy rain. Hands still clenching the piece of goddamn paper with such gruesome, unbelievable concent. No, he would not believe it. He could not believe it. You were just walking with him earlier this day, your smile as too real for it to be unreal. He had just seen you earlier so why? Why are you there sitting in your own pool of blood soaked under the rain?

He could not even approach you, he just watch there along with the other people watching the crime scene get cleaned up like it was nothing. People were looking at you with interest like yu were some kind of entertainment after all. It was the very first case of murder in Fontaine.

Neuvillette could hear nothing under the rain, he just stood there under the same spot even after tour body was taken away. Countless thoughts running in his head. Why? Why does it have to be you? Why do humans never change? Why does t has to be you? Why? Just fucking why you? You asked Neuvillette to give humans a chance. But how could he do that now that he knew humans were the very same being that took you away from him?

Neuvillette did not cry but he just stand there, eyes bloodshot as his lips leak blood from bitting so hard, hands curl into a fist. He was mad, so mad that he wanted to end things right now. He was starting to blame everyone, the world for taking away the only good thing that ever happened to him. In his eyes were those full of hatred and is ready to explode. He would never forgive-

Neuvillette felt a weak thug on his pants, for a moment, he looked down. The first thing he noticed was the blood stained water right in front of him before the child that was holding on into him. "Ha-hydro dragon. Do-don't cry." The child sniff, tears rolling down his cheeks upon saying so.

Neuvillette does not like humans. They are a cruel and cunning being who took away the love of his life before he could even realise it was love. At the same time, these humans were the being that his love one loves very much. "Don't worry." He slowly reach out and pat the little boy's head and magically, he was suddenly dried despite the pouring rain. "The hydro dragon doesn't cry." Just like that, the rain that seemed to be drowning in sadness stopped.

[ⓒdark-night-hero] 2024°

: I think I fucked up. Na bobo ata ako sa sunod sunod na quiz at exam kanina HAHAHA IT'S SO HOT IN THE PH HUHU

: No but seriously I think I fucked up making this asked. HAHAHAHHA did I do it right? Imma delete this na lang charot.

[dilemmaontwolegs]

would you write something about charles from the bucket list after she passes!

The Bucket List - Two Years Later || CL16

Warnings: mentions of grief Main Story || Death Scene || Two Years Later || Bucket Moments

“Why are you so sad?”

Charles looked up from his hands, limp and lifeless on his lap. He cast his eyes around to see he was sitting on a bench at the edge of a park, a cold winter breeze biting him through his jacket. He couldn’t remember how he got there, he had just started walking, needing to get out of the house before he truly drove himself crazy. This time of year was always hard, even now, two years later.

Finally, his eyes landed on the little girl who waited patiently for an answer. She swayed side to side like there was music he couldn’t hear and he looked around for her parents, but the park was mostly empty at this time of year.

“Where is your mother?”

She shrugged but didn’t seem worried that she was alone, she was more interested in getting an answer. “Why are you sad?”

Charles swallowed and twisted his wedding ring around his finger, the habitual movement a way to distract himself. “I lost someone very dear to me.”

“Do you want me to help you find them?” She held out her hand and Charles almost smiled at the sweet innocence. 

“I’m afraid she’s somewhere we can’t go, she’s in heaven now.”

Her hand fell back to her side as she smiled brightly. “Then she’s not lost, silly. You know where she is.”

“Angel!” Charles turned to the frantic voice coming from the footpath that wound its way through the park. The woman rushed towards the bench and dropped to her knees in front of the little girl as she assessed her for any scrapes or bruises. “Angelique, what have I told you about running off? You scared me to death.”

“Sorry, mama,” she apologised as her face fell. “I didn’t mean to.”

“It’s my fault,” Charles found himself saying, feeling sorry for the little girl as tears began to well in her big brown eyes. “She was checking if I was alright, she’s very kind.”

“She is.” Her mother smiled and pulled her into a hug but Charles could see the worry linger in her eyes. “And are you alright?”

“I’m better now,” he admitted with a weak smile. “I’m Charles.”

“Grace,” she said as she shook his hand, “and this is my Angel.”

“Charles was sad his friend went to heaven. I don’t know why anyone would be sad about that, it’s heaven! But I guess he just really misses her,” Angelique rambled quickly, recapping her mother with the conversation she had missed. Grace sent Charles an apologetic smile, her eyes catching on the ring he spun on his left hand. “Do you think she knows papa?”

The question sent a pang to Grace's heart and she stood up, brushing the leaves from her jeans. “I don’t know, mon ange, I imagine it is a big place.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Charles said as he caught the same pain across her face that he felt everyday. Looking at her hands he saw a ring on her finger too and sighed. “I should let you get back to your day.”

“Wait, Charles,” Grace called as she quickly caught up to him on the path. “How long?”

He kicked the stones at his feet and instinctively knew what she was asking. “Two years, you?”

“Three and a half. Everybody tells you it’s going to get easier, don’t they? Just give it time.” She wrinkled her nose at the idea. 

“I’m still waiting for that part,” he chuckled humorlessly. 

“It doesn’t get easier,” she said softly as she looked at the trees but her eyes were unfocused. “But I have found that a bottle of wine, or talking to someone who looks at you with something other than pity, does help. I can’t remember which it is that actually helps, but we could try both - if you want?”

Charles laughed, a sound that had been foreign to him this week as your anniversary came and went, and he found himself nodding. “I’m not sure about your selling technique but at this point I will give anything a try.”

“Free wine always works with the French,” she joked as pulled out her phone to get his number. 

“The Monegasque,” he corrected, making Angelique giggle. 

Turning her phone around she showed him the contact to make sure it was right before calling him: Charles Le Monegasque.

“It’s actually Leclerc.”

[pinkjoongs]

MDNI!!!!!!!! NSFW

i wrote this little blurb bc hongsang are my biases in ateez. this is NOT my best writing at ALL but i couldn’t get this image out of my head. wrote this bad boy in about 30 mins.

reader was written for a female reader in mind but she/her pronouns are used only once.

wc: diva who knows

hongjoong x afab!reader x yeosang

MDNI !!!!!!!!!

Yeosang thought he was fucked.

He had just stopped by the dorm for a quick second to drop something off to Wooyoung, who conveniently wasn’t there. His best friend told him to just leave his things on his bed. Yeosang thought the task would be brief and he could get on with his day without incident.

Boy was he wrong.

As he was gently shutting the bedroom door, a soft gasp broke the quiet of the dorm. Yeosang froze, his blood running cold. Another quiet murmur floated to his ears as he turned to face where the living room was. To Yeosang’s understanding, no one else was home nor was anyone expected to return home anytime soon. He began to question if he had lost his mind and missed the sounds of someone breaking in.

A breathy whine answered his question. No, someone had certainly not broken in.

Yeosang’s cheeks began to burn as he flinched at the noise, immediately recognizing what it was. Now he was mortified; does he make a run for the door, or does he barricade himself in Wooyoung’s room? From where he stood, Yeosang couldn’t see who has in the other room, but he had a few ideas. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, anxiously weighing his options.

When he finally came to his senses, he took a deep breath and braced himself as he turned the corner. All he found was you. And Hongjoong. And you two were certainly getting handsy. How long had he been back there?

Hongjoong had you straddling his lap, each hand holding a handful of your asscheeks. He guided your near naked bottom across his growing bulge, and Yeosang didn’t miss the way you panties grew farther up between your cheeks, nearly flashing him at that point. It didn’t take Hongjoong long to look over your shoulder and notice the man frozen in the entryway. Yeosang was expecting him to yell or push you off, but was shocked when the older man did neither. Instead, Hongjoong looked to you and muttered some words Yeosang couldn’t hear as your hips slowed their rhythm.

Time seemed to slow down as you turned to look over your shoulder. Yeosang thought he was going to be swallowed up by the ground, a pang of guilt and jealousy hitting his stomach as his dick twitched in his sweats. Matter of fact, nothing felt real as he pondered the fact that he’d found you in a position that he imagined himself in for nights in a row.

In his dreams, he could hear your soft voice moan and call out his name.

“Yeosa-ang,” Your voice was breathy, brows furrowed together and your pouty lips pink from kissing. Best part of all, you rolled your hips against your boyfriend's crotch as you called another man’s name.

This was definitely not a dream.

“I- I’m sorry, you— I didn’t mean-! I should go. I’m so, so sor—“ Yeosang choked out, his cheeks a shade of red you never thought possible. He was about to make a run for it until your sweet voice hiccuped again.

“‘Sangie, come here,” You cooed, Hongjoong’s hands squeezing your hips before turning you over in his lap. He sat wordless, eyeing the other man. “Don’t go.”

You must’ve picked up on how he hesitated a beat too long, because you leaned forward in your boyfriend’s lap and held your arms out.

“Yeosang-ie, come here,” You only pouted more, almost as if you couldn’t form many other words. Yeosang was scared to death to move forward, his eyes switching between yours and Hongjoong’s. Interestingly enough, the latter hadn’t spoken a word to him the entire time. Instead, your boyfriend seemed to study you as you mewled to the other man.

“Yeosang, she’s talking to you.” The sound of Hongjoong’s voice made Yeosang flinch. Hongjoong’s eyes were lidded, gaze flicking between the two of you. “Don’t be rude. She’s been talking about you for weeks.”

[user2772636]

So American

Oh God, it's just not fair of him

•○●$☆$●○•

•○●$☆$●○•

When your french boyfriend loves to tease you about how "american" you are, you just think you should write a song about it.

---

Actor!Joseph Descamps x Singer!Reader

Warnings: none but flufffff

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---

Joseph Descamps wasn't fond of the fact that "the americans" drove on the right side of the road or that the wheel was on the left side of the car. But you grew up here, and he trusts you.

It helped him relax, knowing what you were wearing. His famous brown leather jacket with an "I ♡ Paris" shirt on the inside. You looked like a tourist in his country, but he guesses you look "trendy" here.

He places his hand on your thigh, and it's warm enough to make you shiver in relaxation.

To you, Joseph Descamps was the dream boyfriend. He's pretty, tall, smart, funny, fashionable, and even more. What you liked most was his accent and the way he speaks his mother tongue. He's almost too perfect, like a man you'd only find in poems.

Every time you cracked a joke, he'd laugh uncontrollably. He understood every one of them, clinging on the words like a ladder.

When he saw an american flag in the back of your car that you hadn't taken out since the fourth of july, he teased you about being so american. You could only roll your eyes, planning on kissing those teasing lips later.

Every time you kissed, it felt like so many emotions filled you up, but you absorbed it in every type of way. It felt so nice, it felt so good. He made you feel like this and only him.

Being honest to yourself, you'd marry the man. Sure, you're young, and sure you've only been together for a year, but you love him, and he loves you.

•○●$☆$●○•

You get a call from your producer and long-time best friend, asking if you were free over the week, having come up with an idea for a single.

"Well, I think I do. You know how I've been with Joseph these past few months since my break? Well, he's just so perfect. I mean his fluffy hair, his pretty eyes, his pretty pink lips, and his accent, God, his accent. He's so well read and so well dressed and he-"

"Hun, you're rambling again." Fuck. This is the 5th time.

"Sorry."

Plus, every time you lie on your bed, planning on taking a nap, it's so hard to do when he's literally right beside you, available for kissing and cuddling and loving. You're so in love with the boy you sacrificed your beauty sleep. Imagine that.

Okay, so this might be a bit much a bit too soon. But if love ever came up, he'd be the first in my mind. I haven't said I love you yet, and he hasn't either, but I know deep inside me I do. I really fucking do.

•○●$☆$●○•

"Joseph?" He tilts his head up from his paperback, raising his brows.

"Yes, mon ange?" He scoots a bit closer, bringing his arm around my shoulder.

I smile to myself, thinking of a game. "Think of a number."

He smiles back, this game all too familiar for him. "Okay." He pauses. "1, 2, 3..."

"6."

"I love you." I whisper, looking into his eyes from below.

He only stares, lips slowly turning up into a smile.

"I love you, too." He pauses again.

"Je t'aime, mon ange. Je ne peux pas respirer sans toi. Chaque fois que nous sommes séparés, tu es toujours dans mon esprit. Je t'aime, je t'aime, je t'aime." He kisses my lips after every I love you, and my breath stumbles at his confession.

"I don't understand what you're saying!" I laugh, kissing him back on occasion.

"Good." Another kiss. "It's too much for now. Just know I love you." The next kiss lasted longer. It was gentle, it was hungry, it was love.

•○●$☆$●○•

When "So American" came out, it hit the charts. Everyone loved it, and everyone supported it.

That's when they started to get the idea you, famous pop singer Y/N L/N, was dating famous french actor, Joseph Descamps.

Well, we'll see how long we can keep it from them.

•○●$☆$●○•

2 in a row?!?!??! So crazy rn. Its literally 2 am here and im sweating balls over the summer heat. This is hella short sorry but i wanted this so bad.

[russellsppttemplates]

You need some down time (Pierre Gasly)

You thought you had been able to adjust your routine to Pierre's calendar, but your body showed otherwise

Note: english is not my first language. This can also work as an alert for you (and for me too tbh) to take care of yourself and listen to your body. You should work on your dreams but also rest whenever you need ✨️ also, I feel like I can finally write about remote work without having flashbacks from my dissertation

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

my masterlist

Tw: reader's excessive tiredness (mentions some symptoms and taking pills for headaches)

"Then we are meeting Esteban there, we'll have to present a talk to the group of sponsors and then we have dinner", Pierre explained.

"And you're sure I can get there on time and not bother? I don't want to make a big entrance where everyone looks at me", you chuckled, "no, it's fine. They're waiting for you already, so you won't be a stranger", he smiled, "I'll just send you the ticket so you have it on your phone", your boyfriend added, hearing you fumble with a plastic medicine wrapper, "is everything alright?", he asked looking up from his phone to see you taking what looked like a paracetamol, "just a little headache, probably have been staring too long at the computer", you reasoned back, drinking some water from your bottle, "is that the bottle you filled this morning? If it is, you're not drinking much water either, and that's not good for you, mon ange", Pierre said pulling you gently so you could lay your head on his chest, "you know I've always been terrible at drinking water".

Like Pierre told you, the guy at the front of the event scanned your ticket, immediately seeing on the computer where he should be escorting you, already seeing a few familiar faces as you made your way to the high tables, seeing your boyfriend and his new teammate along with some of the members of the Alpine PR Team, "Hi everyone! So sorry I was late. The meeting went long and then the traffic here from the hotel was not easy either", you noted, standing next to Pierre, "you look lovely, Y/N, I'm glad you could join us at last", Esteban complimented.

"Thanks, Yuki!", you said, and to anyone else, they thought it was automatic, "sorry, Esteban", you apologised, laughing when the French driver laughed too.

The dinner turned out to be a nice and calm setting, contrasting with the excitement and buzz of the previous event, "do you want some dessert to share? I'm fancying something sweet but I don't think I can eat all of it", you mentioned to Pierre, looking around the menu and deciding on what you wanted to order.

Leaving the restaurant, you latched yourself to Pierre's arm, supporting yourself on him as you walked to the car he had driven there, "are you busy tomorrow?", he asked, "yes, the usual. But I think I'm going to clock in later, I think, a meeting has been pushed", you mumbled, yelping when you felt yourself stumble in your heels even though you know how to walk in them just fine, "nearly fell there, are you good?", your boyfriend asked, "it seems, yes. But I'm good".

.

The ring of your phone brought your attention from your laptop to the smaller device, seeing Pierre's mother contact appear for a video call.

"Hi, Pascale, how are you?", you asked, saving the changes you made to the document on your laptop before paying her you full attention, "I'm great, chérie. How have you been doing? I hope I'm not catching you at a bad time!", she nudged, "no, it's fine. Perks of working remotely, I don't need to worry about my boss breathing down my neck since I just need to meet the day's goals", you joked, looking at your planner, "and I'm nearly done for the day", you smiled.

Without your control, your hands trembled a little and you were unable to grasp your phone properly, leaving it to fall on the carpeted floor, "Y/N, is everything okay?", you heard Pascale say, "sorry, Pascale, my phone just slipped from my hands", you explained as you grabbed it, checking for any scratches and seeing none, "butter fingers, hm?", she giggled, bringing a small smile to your face, "more like sweaty fingers, I guess".

When Pierre arrived back from his event, he found you just the moment you shut the lid of your laptop, "Only finishing now, amour?", he asked, kissing the top of your head, "yes. Your mother also called me so I had a good break between my tasks", you noted, getting up and grabbing the remote control for the AC to turn it off since the room had cooled off enough, "now, what do we have for tonight?", you asked, "for a change, I don't have anything. Do you want to go explore the city or just sit here?", he wondered, "can we stay in, please? My head hurts a little, probably from being at the laptop all day", you mumbled, "room service and dim lighting it is then".

.

Finally, you were going home. It had been an intense couple of weeks and you were oozing forwards to spend some time with Pierre and his family without a tight schedule filled with events.

Arriving at the airport, Pierre was quick to get everything ready and you were waiting in line with the time perspective you had expected, greeting the crew and making your way inside the aircraft.

"Here, my love, you can hold my hand", you nudged, knowing that Pierre wasn't the biggest fan of flying, feeing him squeeze your palm.

"Hi, I'm so sorry to inform, but the flight will leave with a delay. The estimate is around forty five minutes", one of the flight attendants apologised, carrying on to inform the rest of the passengers.

"For Goodness sake", you mumbled, groaning slightly ad you felt Pierre squeeze your hand again, "I'll just text my dad that we'll arrive later", he mentioned, grabbing his phone and doing so. "Sorry, I know it's not the end of the world", you mumbled, letting your head rest on his shoulder and closing your eyes for a bit, "it's okay, hopefully soon they'll have some informations", Pierre offered, holding your hand in his and kissing the side of your head.

When you finally landed, you grabbed your bags and walked to the hall where you'd be meeting Jean, "I've never been so happy so see your father, I swear", you mumbled, walking up to the older Gasly man and allowing him to greet you and carry your bags to the car.

Walking up to the bedroom you'd be staying in, you managed to take your pyjamas out along with your toiletries bag, changing out of your clothes, washing your face and brushing your teeth before you met Pierre in bed, "I've been dreaming of this bed for the entire day", you groaned as you finally felt the fresh sheets on your legs, looking forward to cuddle Pierre for the night, "sleep tight, handsome, I love you", you offered, "Good night, mon ange, I love you too", he whispered before kissing your forehead one last time for the night.

Despite his usual routine and his sleep routine working like a clock, Pierre managed to sleep for a little bit longer than usual, opening his eyes to find you curled up on yourself and still facing him, making him brush some hairs away from your eyes and caress your cheek, admiring your features. Your skin was a little more faded than usual, and the circles under your eyes were darker, but hopefully this holiday would help you restore your energies. When you didn't wake up from his touches, he thought it was best to leave you to rest, getting up and tucking you further in, putting on a t-shirt and heading dowstairs to meet his family.

"Bonjour, dear, did you sleep well?", his mother greeted him, kissing his cheek as he poured himself a glass of water, "bonjour, yes, I did, and it seems Y/N is sleeping quite well, too. She's still in deep sleep", he noted, seeing his father arrive in the room.

"Bonjour everyone, I have fresh pastries and bread!", Jean announced, setting the paper bags on the table, "I have Y/N's favourites too, they were nearly running out but I managed to grab a few", he said, looking around for you, "she's still asleep. Although I'm not sure dreamland wins over these croissants", Pierre said, taking one straight from the bag and biting into it.

By now, Pierre started to get worried. Everytime he went upstairs to check on you, you were still sound asleep and not a sign that you'd wake up soon. "Is she coming down? I can warm up some of the croissants", Jean commented when his son came back, "thank you, but no need. She's still sleeping", Pierre murmured, sitting in the sofa next to his mother, "she must've been exhausted", she reasoned, "every time I called either of you, you were either about to fly somewhere or needing to be at some event, I even interrupted her a few times while she was working and you were off somewhere", she reasoned, "it wasn't easy on her, that's for sure".

The words resonated on Pierre's mind. It had been a couple of busy weeks, even he felt it. Travelling around so he could engage with the new team he was part of was as incredible as it was tiring, and having you there was the safe haven he needed whenever he felt a little lost. But had you been taking care of yourself for all of that time too? Was he the person you turned to when you needed to feel safe too?

About an hour and a half later, you woke up, cursing yourself as soon as you looked at the clock and scrambled out of bed so make yourself look presentable. Deciding that, for now, leggings and an oversized shirt would have to do, you made your way downstairs to greet everyone, "Good morning! I'm so sorry I overslept, I swear I didn't do it on purpose!", you apologised, seeing Pierre make his way to you so he could hug you a kiss your cheek, "hey, is everything alright?", he asked, holding your hand in his and pulling you to sit by the table, seeing his parents get started on what you figured was already lunch, "yes, I'm good. Let me help with that, please, Pascale. It's the least-", you attempted before being shushed by her.

"No need for that, chérie. But we do want to talk about how you are", she said softly, "you had us worried for a bit, I kept telling Pierre to check if you had a fever or something like that", she tried, knowing that you had already noticed where she was going.

Sighing, you placed your hands on top of the table fiddling wirh your fingers, "honestly? I feel a little rested, but not fully rested", you admitted, "it's been a lot these past couple of weeks. Work has been non stop, I have been covering some of my colleagues' vacation days, I feel like I'll need a few days to unwind even. The first thing I thought about when I woke up was that I was late for a meeting such is the habit to be in a squeeze of time", you gulped, "it has been a struggle, and I'm just grateful to finally have some down and off time", you finished, squeezing Pascale's hand that found yours on the cold surface.

"I know you don't need me to tell you this, but you need to take care of yourself, Y/N! You can't go around the day and sleep so little, we saw how busy you were!", she scolded still softly, meaning no harm and rather wanting to help you and make sure you took care of yourself and your well-being. "These days you're here, you're catching up on your sleep, eating good food, having some down time and taking care of yourself, I won't allow anything else under my roof!", Jean jokingly threatened, pointing his finger at you before smiling.

Pierre was looking like you expected him to. "Hey, no guilty frown, please!", you tapped your boyfriend's forehead, hoping to soften his expression, "you had your own things to worry about, and besides, it's also my doing because I didn't want to say anything", you admitted. "But still! I saw you were getting up earlier so you could meet me later, saw that you'd have quick lunches and how you felt more tired. I thought it was all jet lag and being busy, but it was more than that", he reasoned, tracing shapes on your hands, "it's all behind us now, okay?", you reassured, nuzzling your face in his neck when he pulled you into his embrace.

"Now, how about you two go enjoy some croissants outside? Despite the cold, it is a lovely sunny day outside. Just make sure you're warm enough, okay? I don't want anyone sick in this house!", Pascale announced, placing the food tray in the oven.

[hisui-dreamer]

Holii <3 If it's not too much trouble, I wanted to ask for relationship headcanons for vile, rook, leona and azul discovering that their mc fem is actually a real angel (you know, with wings, ethereal, believer in god, etc) but at first It didn't seem like it since mc is usually stubborn and very naughty, quite the opposite of what you would expect from an angel hehe thanks and take care <3 ^^

wings of pure white but a devilish smile

Characters: Vil, Rook, Leona, Azul

Synopsis: Where you're an actual angel in all senses but your personality, and you decide to tell your lover the truth. Would he believe you?

Tags: fem reader, bot proofread

Word count: 1.3k

Notes: Thanks for asking, this was very fun to think about! Everyone's part is gender neutral except Rook because I have no idea how to write gender neutral French with my very beginner levels oopsie

Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

Vil loves you, he really does

only sometimes you get on his nerves with how mischievous you are

still, as long as you don’t push his buttons too much, you’re good

so when you tell him you’re an angel, he just raises an elegant eyebrow

"Come on, darling, you can't be serious. If anything, I’d imagine you to be a devil, not an angel," he says teasingly

try to convince him, and he’ll just think you’re toying with him

you explain that, duh, of course not angels are ‘angelic’

you’re living beings(?) too, how would you expect everyone to act the same?

still a bit sceptical, but he can't deny the sincerity in your eyes

he gives you the benefit of the doubt and listens attentively as you explain how you guide souls to heaven

okay you seem very serious about it now

is only going to be fully convinced when you show him your wings

he loves how soft they are and definitely helps you with wing care, helping you with magical dust baths, preening your feathers, etc.

he won’t show it too much, but he’s so happy his lover is such a beautiful creature, you make him feel acknowledged for his hard work

Vil shakes his head in disbelief. "But you're so stubborn and mischievous, and you don't act like an angel at all." Crossing his arms, he hums in thought, "Truly, I’m more inclined to believe Neige would be an angel than you."

He huffs arrogantly, "Why, of course my lover is an angel. You’re the only one who’s beautiful enough to stand beside me as equals!"

 He smiles at you and pulls you close, holding you tightly. "I don't care if you’re an angel, a devil, or any other creature," he murmurs, his eyes full of love. "I love you for who you are, not what you are," he says, then gently pecks your forehead.

Rook adores you

he is so captivated by you, and he greatly enjoys how your stubborn and mischievous always pushed him to his limits

in truth, he already thinks you’re an angel

"Ma chérie, you are more beautiful than any angel I have ever seen," he says, taking your hand in his and kissing it

when you tell him that, no, you’re an actual angel, he’s a bit taken aback, but he’s mostly in awe that something so great is right in front of him

once the shock passes, he’s beaming with admiration though

he spews compliment after compliment in a slur of French, looking very excited at the new revelation

if you tell him to calm down, he’ll slow down the string of compliments, but it’s clear that he’s buzzing with energy

as you explain to him what it is that you do, he’ll appreciate you even more

he’s so enamoured with your wings!!! they’re soft and white just like doves

definitely helps you with wing care, using his keen eye as a hunter, he’ll help you clean and repair any damaged feathers

Rook's eyes widen in awe. " Un ange?" he repeats, almost incredulously. " C'est incroyable, ma douce !" He reaches for your hands and holds them in his, "Mon ange, je le savais dès que je vous ai vu! Je suis vraiment honoré et choyé d'être en votre présence !"

Translation: "An angel? That’s incredible, my sweet! My angel, I knew it as soon as I saw you! I am truly honoured and blessed to be in your presence!"

"Oh, la femme de mon coeur, you have such a marvellous duty! Truly, your kindness shines through beautifully! Caring for wayward souls and leading them to their destination, c'est très magnifique! "

Translation: "Oh, the lady of my heart... how very magnificent !"

Rook can't help but smile. "You're amazing," he says. "I've always been drawn to you because of your beauty, but now I see that there's so much more to you than that. You're an angel, mon amour, and I'm in awe of you. No matter what you are, or where you come from, you'll always be beautiful and enchanting to me." he says, his voice filled with sincerity.

Leona sees you as someone who is stubborn, mischievous, and always up for a challenge

he enjoys your company and all the chaos that follows with you, and admires your strong will, but he finds you unpredictable and sometimes frustrating

teasing you and pushing your buttons is like his favourite pastime

he really cares about you and it shows in his protectiveness

but when you tell him you’re an angel, he just looks at you like "Herbivore, the hell are ya yappin' on about?", a look of pure vexation on his face

are you seriously interrupting his nap with this nonsense???

oh wait, you’re actually serious

sits up and prompts you to start explaining yourself

doesn’t completely believe you until you show him your wings

he’ll start putting pieces together in his mind and he asks you some very thoughtful questions, like how angels are born, how the whole system works, etc.

he has some newfound respect for you now

it must be difficult having to be the one to tell souls their life has ended

not to mention seeing all sorts of tragedies

will help you with wing care and he's surprisingly gentle, but may also tease you to take care of him too

Leona snorts in disbelief, "You're kidding, right? Aren’t you the one who’s always causin’ trouble? That's the complete opposite of what I would expect from an angel."

His mind is racing with questions as he studies your wings. "Are you pullin' my leg right now?" he finally manages to say, his voice tinged with annoyance, but you can definitely hear his awe. "You're tellin' me that you're actually a real angel? Why didn't you tell me sooner? I mean, you're nothing like what I expected an angel to be," he smirks.

"Well, I'll be damned," he mutters, shaking his head in disbelief. "I never would've guessed in a million years. Heh, you're full of surprises, herbivore," he says as his hands ruffle your hair. " I may not believe in all that divine stuff, but I'll admit, seeing your wings is pretty cool."

Azul sees you as someone who is loving and devoted to him, but also stubborn and mischievous

he's used to dealing with mischief with floyd and he much prefers you given you have logic and reasoning most of the time

but our businessman is rather science brained, so he's not that inclined to believe you if you just tell him

especially given your behaviour

while you're his Angelfish, he wouldn't expect you to be an actual angel

he leans back in his chair and regards you thoughtfully, "My dear, while you are my Angelfish, I didn't expect it in a literal sense... Well, you certainly have the mischievousness of a devil, but I suppose it's not impossible that you could be an angel. Show me then, if you wish."

when he sees your wings, he'll be blushing so hard, in awe of how beautiful you are

may have a thought or two about capitalising on your feathers

but he wouldn't, this greedy octopus is gonna keep you all to himself

would definitely research wing care meticulously and find innovative and cost effective methods to make things more convenient for you

"Are those...are those real?" Azul stutters, still in disbelief. You nod, extending your wing toward him. He walks towards you slowly, his eyes fixed on your majestic wings. Reaching out hesitantly, he runs his fingers over the feathers, feeling the softness and delicacy of each one. "They're beautiful," Azul whispers, awestruck.

Azul can’t help but chuckle. "I suppose I have no choice but to believe you now. You truly are a wonder, my dear Angelfish."

Azul hugs you tightly. "I'm so lucky to have you. I don't care if you're an angel or not. You're still the same mischievous and stubborn girl that I fell in love with, as long as you’ll have me."

Part 2 ✧ Masterlist

if you liked this post, don't forget to reblog!

[sensivs]

Crazy nsfw idea

Any of the mw2 characters suckin on m!reader BAZONGAS

Very silly ik 🤨🤷🏻😳

OMG YESSSSSSS DJSKSKKDKSKS

GHOST, KÖNIG, GAZ, N SOAP

——————————————

GHOST

- as you bounced away on ghost’s cock, the man was happily sucking on your tibbies. “aNg~! FucK ghost!! aH~!”

He lived for the reaction you had when he sucked away on your tits, your loud moans turned him on so much.

“You fucking love when I do this huh? You fucking love how I suck away on your massive tits?” He growled in your ear, his accent making the sentence sound more sexier.

You moaned away as you continued bouncing on ghost’s dick…

(Let your mind imagine the rest)

KÖNIG

You softly moaned as König left sweet love marks on your pecs, he was so gentle when it came to your pleasure.

“Please König~ please be rough with me~” (cringe) you whined as you fisted a soft clump of the German man’s long brown hair.(btw I just wanna say that I do go along with @//bluegiragi ‘s könig design )

König hummed against your pecs. He let go of the skin he was leaving a mark on, a small and thin string of saliva sticking to the tip of his tongue and the middle of the bright red bite mark he left.

He smirked and looked up at you, “anything for you, maus~”

Oh how his voice turned into a much more lower as he relaxed more into you, he then grabbed the waistband of your boxers and slowly pulled them down.

You shivered as a little cold breeze brushed against your exposed sensitive cock, he a-lined his dick right below your hole.

And just in a second, his entire dick was inside you. You couldn’t help but moan loudly, the girth and length of the thing was abnormally huge and you just took the entire thing in just like that.

The boobie sucking saga continued until the entire surface of your delectable pecs was littered by bite marks and hickeys.

GAZ

“You look so lovely like this babe~” gaz whispered into your ear as he then thrusted back into you.

A loud moan ripped itself out of you, the feeling of pleasure quickly running through your body was absolutely heavenly.

Kyle’s large hands dragged themselves up to your pecs, giving them a loving squeeze. Which made you moan louder.

“Ooo, you love it when I squeeze your pecs ay? You nasty whore” Kyle’s then started laying kisses all along your boobs, slowly lining his way up to your neck.

His mouth took over the marking on your tiddies, his warm mouth engulfing your nipples and just marking wherever he could made you almost cum.

He was way too skilled for his own good

SOAP (I didnt forget him this time <3 )

“AgHh~! J-just like that!” You screamed loudly as soap absolutely destroyed your ass. His grunts and skin slapping against skin roughly was the only thing heard other than your loud moaning.

Soap chuckled through breathless pants, his mind slowly guiding his hands to your chest. His hands gripped the soft skin, making your already loud noises even louder.

His index and his middle finger slowly dragged down to your nips. Soap then started to play around with them, making you absolutely feral at this point.

The feeling of your orgasm was approaching fast, your moans gradually getting louder let soap know that.

“C’mon babe~ cum for me”

As you came, Soap took your arm and swung it over his head. Making way for him to start sucking away on your nips.

(that was very weird to write)

————————————————

God this took longer than it was suppose to

BUT I HOPED YOU ALL LIKED IT:)

Featuring a little gift I made for all of you 🫶🫶🫶

[thebearchives]

i want to write you a song | CL16

PAIRING: charles lecler x singer!reader

REQUESTED: [X] yes [] no

WORD COUNT: 3.7k

SYNOPSIS: you share your newest song with charles, a song you had written about him, for him. as he listens, you think back to the memories that inspired each lyric.

WARNINGS: fluff with very minimal hurt/comfort, some french translations

A/N: i feel like this is so shitty, so i apologize to the anons who requested this </3, also HEAVILY inspired by i want to write you a song by one direction so stream it as you listen (if you'd like)

as always, don't be a ghost reader!

“okay, are you ready?” your eyes were wide with excitement as you turned to look at charles, finger hovering over the play button on spotify.

charles adjusted the earbud in his ear, his other hand reaching over to squeeze your own that sat in your lap, “always. i can’t wait to hear it.”

you smiled, “i’m gonna press play, okay?”

charles gave you a wide smile and nodded excitedly, “let’s do this!”

your finger pressed against the play button and the familiar strumming of your guitar began coursing through your ears. charles’ hand tightened against yours again once your voice cut through the instruments.

i wanna write you a song; one as beautiful as you are sweet

you stared up at charles’ face as he slept peacefully, long eyelashes brushing against his cheeks. you couldn’t help but envy his ability to shut his brain off and sleep, for your own was running faster than charles’ bright red ferrari. the longer you stared at charles, the more your thoughts crowded your mind. 

you reached forward and lightly brushed his hair back away from his forehead. god, he was so beautiful–your beautiful muse, who had no idea how much he inspired you with every word and action. 

you pushed yourself up and out of bed, the inspiration running wild within your head. your fingers itched for your songwriting notebook, settling into your spot on the alcove. the ideas flowed from your mind to the blank paper, filling line after line about the way charles made you feel.

with just a hint of pain for the feeling that i get when you are gone

“i miss you,” you frowned at the phone in your hand.

“i miss you more, mon ange,” charles’ voice was soft, “but i’ll see you in two days, okay?”

“but that’s so far away,” you couldn’t help but whine. you knew you were being overdramatic, but you couldn’t help it. 

it was the last race weekend of the triple header, and the race was tomorrow afternoon. after his race, charles would be packing his bags and heading back to monaco to see you again. you had only been able to go with charles to the first weekend, having to stay home for the next two weeks due to your album deadline that was approaching fast.

you watched as charles’ lips curved upwards on your phone screen, “but i’ll be yours for the entirety of the summer break, amour.”

you let out a puff of air, “i hate this.”

“i know, i do too. if your deadline hadn’t been on monday, i would have flown you out instantly.” 

“not if i did it first,” you laid back on the bed, turning to your side and holding the phone up against the pillow, “if i had it my way, i’d have been with you for the entire three weeks.”

“if i had it my way, i’d have every race in monaco so i’d never have to leave home.” 

his words made you smile, “what about the curse?” 

charles chuckled, “mon amour, no curse in the world is strong enough to go against my luckiest charm. you’re undefeated.”

“hm, maybe you should say this after you finally win a home race,” you couldn’t help but laugh at the way his face dropped.

“that was rude, ange,” charles frowned, “i was trying to be romantic.”

“sorry,” you giggled, “you are very romantic, please continue.”

“no, i don’t think i will now,” charles crossed his arms across his chest. after a beat, he dropped them, “isn’t it late for you?”

you nodded, a yawn escaping your lips, “couldn’t sleep without you. ‘s been like this all two weeks.”

a sigh escaped his lips, “‘m sorry, ange. i promise to give you all the cuddles once i’m back.”

“you better.”

charles watched as your eyes slowly shut, bidding you a goodnight. both your hearts ached at the sound of the call ending, wishing you could have been with the other.

you opened your eyes, gazing at the phone in your hand longingly. you wanted to call him back. you wanted to tell him again how much you missed him, and how the house felt empty without his presence, and how your bed felt so much bigger and colder without him in it. but you refrained, closing your eyes and willing yourself to go to sleep. 

tomorrow, you would fall asleep again and wake up to charles coming home, but for tonight, you’d sleep alone for another night. 

i wanna lend you my coat; one that's as soft as your cheek

you couldn’t help but giggle as you watched charles try to hide his shiver. said brunette narrowed his eyes at you, a pout gracing his pink lips.

“stop laughing at me,” he tugged on the hand that he was holding onto, cold fingers intertwined with your warmer ones, “i’m not cold!”

you let go of his hand, moving both of your hands to cup his red cheeks, “mon ange, your hand has been trembling for the past five minutes. please, just admit you’re cold.”

charles grumbled but made no move to remove your hands from his numb face. you were so warm. 

“‘m not cold, promise,” he mumbled quietly, though his head snuggled into your palms further. in return, you caressed his soft cheeks with your thumb, trying to warm them up.

“so if i pull my hands away right now, you’d be fine with that?”

charles frowned, “no.”

you smirked, “so you are cold!” 

the silence made you laugh loudly. you moved your hands away from charles’ face and turned around. after a beat, you turned your head to look at charles, “well?”

at his confused gaze, you continued, pushing your hands into your coat’s pockets, “are you gonna join or no?”

charles smiled, moving closer to your body and placing his hands into your pockets alongside yours. you held back a flinch at his cold hands, intertwining your fingers and tugging him closer. his back pressed against yours and he sighed happily, nuzzling the rose-tinted tip of his nose against the back of your head. 

“merci,” charles pushed your intertwined hands forward, wrapping his arms around you as best as he could, “though, i have to assure you, i was not cold.”

“of course not.”

so when the world is cold, you will have a hiding place you can go

you had lost your coat.

you had looked everywhere for it. suitcases, bed, closet, laundry. everywhere. you’d even asked your manager if she had seen it anywhere, be it in any of your hotel rooms throughout the tour, or even in the tour bus that had just been returned to the agency. no such luck.

charles could sense your frustration over the video call, eyebrows furrowed as he watched you tear apart your shared bedroom, “amour, why are you destroying our room?”

you huffed, plopping down on the bed, “i can’t find my coat!”

charles’ body tensed, eyes flickering off-screen before instantly landing back on your sulking figure. he cleared his throat, “which coat?”

“the teddy coat! the big one that you always say swallows me whole whenever i wear it,” your pout was adorable, and had charles not have been panicking over the fact that the very coat you were looking for was with him, he would have cooed over how cute you looked.

“ah,” charles scratched the side of his neck, “why do you need it?”

“i don’t know,” you shrugged, “i just wanted to wear it out today. but now, i can’t! because i can’t find it. you know how much i love that coat–hell, even you love that coat, and now i’ve lost it!”

the awkward chuckle that left charles’ mouth made you raise your head. you narrowed your eyes at him, watching as his face became sheepish, “you didn’t.”

charles broke, “i’m sorry!”

“charles! i’ve been looking for it everywhere!”

“i’m sorry! je suis désolé!” he repeated, getting closer to the camera, “i only brought it with me because i knew you couldn’t come to the race this weekend and it’s so cold here.”

“but, char, that’s why you have your coats,” you whined, “not mine!”

“the reason i brought your coat instead of mine,” charles’s cheeks turned a slight pink as he realized he would have to explain himself completely, “was because it smells like you.”

you were so still, charles thought his laptop froze. when he realized you weren’t frozen, he continued, “your coat feels like home. it’s comforting.”

“char,” you started, “you should have told me.”

charles’ cheeks flushed a deeper red and he covered his face with his hands. “no,” his voice was muffled, “it’s so embarrassing.”

“no, it’s not!” you gasped, “mon amour, look at me.”

charles looked at you through his fingers, “i’m looking. mais, s'il vous plaît, ne me regardez pas. je suis embarrassé.” but, please, don’t look at me. i’m embarrassed.

“il n'y a aucune raison d'être embarrassé,” there's nothing to be embarrassed about. you smiled, “i find it very endearing. i just wish i could be there in person instead. ‘m sorry.”

charles’ face appeared from behind his hands, a soft smile planted on his lips, “‘s not something you need to apologize for, mon amour. i understand.”

in the background, you could hear someone calling for charles. your boyfriend gave you a cheeky smile, “wish me luck, ange!”

“well, you’ve got my lucky coat with you, no?”

right before he hung up, charles groaned, “mon dieu, i knew you would tease me!”

and while charles may have known that you’d tease him, he had no idea that carlos was in on it too, sending you pictures of the monégasque wrapped up in your big teddy coat, fast asleep with his arms wrapped around himself.

i wanna build you a boat; one as strong as you are free. so any time you think that your heart is gonna sink, you know it won't

another sunday, another race that went to shit. 

charles flopped onto the bed in his driver room, angry with the way his race had gone. the first race you had joined him for in weeks, and he just had to go and crash his car into the wall. god, you must think he was the worst driver on the grid.

charles pushed the heels of his palms against his eyes, willing himself to not shed tears. he knew you’d be knocking on his door soon enough, and he didn’t want to seem weak in front of you. he felt his heart sink at the thought of facing you. why couldn’t this race have just gone well?

like he predicted, a knock sounded from behind his closed door, your voice lightly calling out his name.

“come in,” charles cursed himself for his shaky voice.

stepping inside the room, you felt your heart crack at the sight of your boyfriend. you couldn’t see his face, but his ears were red and his chest was moving at a rapid pace. you closed the door behind you, making your way to the ferrari driver.

“oh, charles,” you cooed, kneeling against the bed, hand brushing his hair back softly.

charles pushed his palms in deeper, rubbing to get rid of the tears that had managed to spill out. his voice was just but a whisper as he spoke, “i’m okay.”

you frowned, “you’re not, and that’s okay, charles. you don’t always have to put on a brave face and pretend like you’re not hurting,” you reached to grab his hands, pulling them away from his eyes, “especially not in front of me.”

charles’ eyes were red and glossy with the tears threatening to spill out. you cupped his face with your hands, “it’s okay to cry, mon amour. you can let it out.”

it was like your words were the key to the gate charles had locked. he blinked once, twice, and the tears began to flow. charles pushed himself closer to you, and you let him cry until he couldn’t anymore.

his hushed sobs turned into sniffles, “i’m sorry.”

you shook your head, moving down so that you could catch his eyes with your own, “you have nothing to be sorry for, mon amour.”

“i do,” he was adamant, sitting up on the bed and wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, “i’m a driver for ferrari, i shouldn’t be making these stupid mistakes and causing more trouble for everyone else. i’m better than this. i need to be better than this.”

“you’re being too hard on yourself, charles,” you made sure he was looking at you, “you can have bad days and bad races. just because you drive for a top team doesn’t mean you’re not allowed to make mistakes.”

charles opened his mouth to argue but you continued, “you’re right, you drive for ferrari. hell, you have the longest contract with them. but why is that?”

charles stayed quiet, listening to you. his eyes were still red, yet the glossiness had gone away, now wide with interest.

“it’s because they know what kind of driver you are, charles,” you grabbed his hands, giving them a squeeze, “they chose you because they know that you’ve got so much talent that’s just waiting to be let out. a few bad races is nothing. if anything, it’s expected. don’t beat yourself over it. nobody is perfect, okay? no driver has a record with no bad races.”

he had never anticipated you to be this passionate when it came to his career. hell, he had been expecting you to be just as disappointed as the media, focused solely on his faults. 

his eyes were watery again, this time for a completely different reason. his lips twitched, a slight smile forming on his face.

“this race doesn’t define you, charles,” you gave him a small smile, “don’t let it overshadow your success and accomplishments. i’m so proud of how far you’ve gotten, mon amour, no race result would ever make me stop being proud of you.”

“mon dieu,” his voice was breathy, “je t’adore.”

you let out a choked laugh, not expecting such a response, “et je t’adore, aussi. now, were you listening or did i just ramble for no reason?”

“i was listening,” it was charles who squeezed your hands this time, intertwining your fingers together afterwards, “you’re just so amazing. tu es vraiment mon ange.” you really are my angel. 

it was funny how fast the situation had flipped. just moments ago, you had worked yourself up to the point where you nearly cried as you comforted charles, and now, you were trying to hide your blushing cheeks from him.

you whined out his name in embarrassment, and he couldn’t help but laugh.

“i’m serious,” it was nice to see him smiling again, “you just have such a way with words, mon amour. i’m so glad i have you by my side, especially in moments like these.”

“was just being honest,” you shrugged, “nothing special.”

“‘nothing special’? mon amour, you just took away all my anger and disappointment with a few words, you’re the most special,” charles placed a kiss against your forehead, “thank you for being here, mon ange.”

you gave him a smile, “i’ll be here whenever you need me, charles. always and forever.”

and just like that, the sinking feeling in charles’ chest had disappeared, now replaced with the sheer happiness and joy that you brought along with you. he helped you up from where you had been sitting, before wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down to lie with him on his bed. the quiet sniffles had been replaced with loud laughs and giggles as the race disappeared from your minds.

everything i need i get from you, and giving back is all i wanna do

you had gotten into music at a young age, preparing performances for your parents as a birthday gift because all your other siblings had made them cards and you wanted to be different. music quickly became your way of giving back to others.

you wrote songs for your family and friends, to return all the support they showed you. songs for your fans, to show how much you appreciate them. and songs for charles, to give back all the love he had given you over the years.

which lead you to this moment in time; sharing your newest song with your beloved, one written about him, for him, for the first time ever. it was his birthday gift.

“so, do you like it?” the nerves showed clearly in your expression. 

“like it?” charles cupped your cheeks, squishing them slightly, “amour, i love it!”

your eyes widened slightly, “really?”

charles hummed, “of course, i do. i love every song you write, and this one’s about me so i love it even more.”

charles could feel your smile growing against his palm, “i’ve written songs about you before, char.”

he dropped his hands from your cheeks, face showing utter shock, “what? you have?”

you nodded your head, a bubble of laughter erupting from your mouth, “of course, i have! i write love songs, and i’ve been in love with you for years. who did you think i was writing about?”

“are they released yet?” his eyes were wide in wonder, “have i heard them before?”

to tease him, you began pondering, index finger tapping against your chin, “hm, have you?”

charles gripped your arm, shaking it, “ah! you can’t do this, tell me, y/n/n! please!”

you laughed loudly, head tilting back in delight, “you have! you have! now stop shaking me, please, my arm is gonna fall off.”

“which song?” the shaking stopped but his hand remained on your arm.

you gave him a cheeky smile, “well, i can’t make it that easy for you. figure it out on your own.”

he whined out your name, “but it’s my birthday! you have to be nice to me on my birthday!”

“i am being nice!” you gaped at him, “i wrote you a song! and let you listen to it before i released it!”

“but it doesn’t count when i don’t know what other songs you’ve written about me,” his frown was adorable, and you couldn’t help but reach forward and push the corners of his lips up.

“fine,” you leaned forward and placed a quick peck on his pout, “i’ll tell you, but only because it’s your birthday.”

charles smiled brightly, holding up his pinky, “and because it’s my birthday, you have to pinky promise that you’ll always tell me when a song is about me.”

“now, you’re pushing it, birthday boy.”

i wanna write you a song; one to make your heart remember me. so any time i'm gone, you can listen to my voice and sing along

ted gestured for the cameraman to record the ferrari garage. decked out in his red gear, charles sat with his earbuds in, and eyes closed while his lips mouthed along to whichever song he’s listening to.

“and here we have mister charles leclerc, in his natural habitat listening to some tunes,” ted spoke into his mic, making his way over to front of the garage. 

charles opened his eyes, catching sight of ted and smiling. he pulled out an earbud and gave the camera a smile, “hello, ted. how are you doing today?”

“ah, i’m doing great. how are you?” the reporter smiled back at the driver.

“good, good. i was just trying to get into the zone, you know?” charles gestured towards the track behind them, “big race today.”

ted nodded, “of course. now, i’m sure the people will want to know, so i’m just going to ask you this now,” charles nodded, and ted continued, “what songs do you listen to to ‘get into the mood’, as you put it?”

the dimples on charles’ cheeks became apparent as he smiled widely, he pushed his phone forward and turned it around so both the camera and ted could see what he was playing. 

ted let out a laugh when he registered your familiar name and song title, “ah, of course, should have seen it coming.”

charles laughed along with ted, “yes, yes. y/n just released a new album and it is very, very good.”

“and as you said, y/n’s music gets you in the zone?” ted raised his eyebrows, an intrigued look on his face, “do explain for us, charles.”

charles’ face got visibly pinker, “well, ehm, as you know, y/n is my lovely, lovely partner, and so, whenever i’m away from them, i listen to their songs because they–” he scratched his neck sheepishly, “–help ground me and keep me in a calm headspace.”

“aw, well isn’t that just adorable?” ted smiled at the camera, already envisioning how the fans at home would be reacting to charles’ answer.

charles chuckled shyly, “ah, yes, i guess so. i am very lucky, i get to hear my partner’s voice whenever, wherever. even when they’re not around.”

ted nodded, “well, i’ll let you get back to it, then. good luck, charles! i’ll see you after the race, hopefully.”

charles bid ted goodbye, turning back into the garage. he pushed the earbuds back into his head, your soft voice entering his ears once again. god, you were going to tease the hell out of him for that interview.

— present

the guitar strums faded, and you waited for charles to open his eyes with a bated breath. his eyes opened, searching before the landed on your figure. a warm smile graced his lips and he let out a breathy laugh.

“that was amazing,” his eyes were shining brightly, “c'était si beau.” that was so beautiful.

“you think so?” you let go of the breath you had been holding, “tu es honnête?” you’re being honest?

charles nodded his head rapidly, “why would i lie? mon amour, that was so, so good. are you sure you wrote it for me?”

you let out a chuckle, “no actually, it’s for carlos. do you think he’ll like it?”

charles’ jaw dropped, and you laughed loudly, “i’m kidding, of course it’s for you.” 

you pushed yourself closer to him, resting your head on his shoulder, “everything i write is for you.”

charles wrapped his arm around your body, pulling you closer, ”thank you for all the beautiful words.”

you smiled against his chest, “anytime.” 

he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss against your temple, “je t’aime, amour.”

“je t’aime plus.” i love you more.

[simplepotatofarmer]

preparations

another mini fic for my 'hey loyal write this' challenge, this time based on @justcallme-ange's prompt! a slight retelling of doomsday preparations featuring doomsday trio!

************

“How’s preparations coming along, mate?”

Techno stopped in the middle of the cabin and sighed, arms hanging down at his sides.

“Bruh. Don’t ask me that, Phil, alright,” he said. “I have no dang idea what I’m doin’.”

“You look stressed.” A trace of worry was in Phil’s voice, hidden beneath the laughter.

“Who knew that destroyin’ a government was so complicated?” 

“Have you talked to Dream again, seen what he’s up to? It might help us figure out what we should be doing,” suggested Phil.

It wasn’t a bad idea. As much as Dream came off as mysterious and aloof, Techno had learned it actually took very little to get him talking. Or at least very little to fluster him and get him laughing which was about the same thing in the end. 

“See, this is why I keep you around, Phil,” Techno said, taking out his communicator and typing out a quick message.

[you whisper to Dream] hey man [you whisper to Dream] can we meet up and do a lil planning?

With a sigh, Phil moved some clutter out of the way, clearing a place for him to sit.

“Now we wait,” he said.

They didn’t have to wait long. Techno had barely begun pacing around the cabin, collecting supplies to brew a potion then deciding he wanted to brew a different one, before his communicator chimed. Techno fumbled with it for a moment.

[Dream whispered to you] i’m kind of busy. is something wrong?

[you whisper to Dream] define ‘wrong’ haha [you whisper to Dream] nah, it’s fine. we can come to you. where are you?

Phil quirked an eyebrow as he watched Techno type, chuckling to himself, and resisted the urge to stand up and try to read over his friend’s shoulder.

This time the reply took longer.

[Dream whispered to you] sure i guess [Dream whispered to you] i’m near by [Dream whispered to you] at my HOUSE

Techno waved the communicator in Phil’s direction.

“This man, he’s still tryin’ to convince me he’s not homeless.”

“Jesus christ,” said Phil, rolling his eyes.

[you whisper to Dream] do you mean your ‘evil lair’?

A second later, the communicator chimed.

[Dream whispered to you] WHAT?? [Dream whispered to you] how the hell do you know about that techno??

Laughing, Techno responded.

[you whisper to Dream] me and phil will be there in a bit [you whisper to Dream] sorry about the creeper man

[Dream whispered to you] THAT WAS YOU???

****************************************************************

Techno remembered the path to Dream’s little house. It hadn’t been that long since he had watched Dream struggle to build it. He was little surprised to find that Dream had returned to rebuild it but maybe he shouldn’t have been. It seemed like a very Dream thing to do, the more he thought about it.

“You really bullied him into building a house?” asked Phil as they trudged along.

“I mean, bullyin’ is a bit harsh, Phil.” Techno paused. “But I absolutely bullied the heck out of that man.”

“You’re unbelievable, mate.”

As they crested the hill, Techno stopped.

“Huh. I guess he really did rebuild it,” he said.

The house was just as mismatched as it had been the first time Techno had been here. Shaking his head, Techno headed down with Phil following behind him. There was still a hole in the yard from the creeper. Techno knocked on the door and waited.

A moment later there was the sound of something hitting the ground and then footsteps that were almost too quiet to hear. The door opened and Dream was tugging down his mask, dirty blonde hair sticking out around the straps. When he spoke, he sounded as if he was holding back a yawn.

“What did you need to talk about, Techno?”

“Well, the whole destroyin’ the government thing,” he said, slowly. There was something about the set of Dream’s shoulders, how disheveled he looked, that made worry sprout in his chest. His armor was half on and his sleeves were rolled up, exposing his forearms covered in bandages. Techno glanced at Phil; he had been ready to grill Dream about his plans but he was silent, frowning. “You alright, man?”

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine.” Dream adjusted his mask again and glanced behind him before stepping aside. “Well… I guess you can come in, I’ll show you what I’ve got so far.”

****************************************************************

One of the first things Techno noticed about Dream’s ‘house’ was there was no bed. The second thing was the blueprints that had been spread out and tacked up onto the wall. Some of them clearly weren’t for whatever he had planned for L’Manberg and he had quickly shoved them away. Neither Techno nor Phil said anything though they had exchanged a glance before sitting down at the table Dream had indicated. There were only two chairs so Dream had sat on a chest in the corner.

“And you got enough TNT for this?” asked Phil.

There was no answer.

Techno cleared his throat. The mask made it impossible to see where Dream was looking but the downward tilt of his head gave it away.

“Dream?” Techno shifted in his seat and nudged Dream’s foot with his hoof. “Wakey-wakey.”

Dream jerked upright.

“What?”

“When’s the last time you’ve gotten some sleep, man?”

He tugged at his sleeves, rolling them down, and turned his head away.

“Well, to be fair, I’ve been pretty busy,” said Dream.

Snorting, Phil shook his head.

“Damn good way to get yourself killed, going into battle exhausted.”

“It’s—I mean, it’s fine. I’m fine.” Dream’s voice rose in pitch. “You’re the ones that wanted to come here.”

Techno frowned. The worry from earlier had bloomed.

“Alright, Dream, alright,” he said. “I guess we should be goin’. How about you walk us back, Dream?”

“What?! Why?”

It was a question that Phil had been on the verge of asking himself but he saw the look on Techno’s face and realized he had something planned.

“Haven’t you ever heard of hospitality, Dream? We’re your guests.”

“That doesn’t—That doesn’t make any sense! You came here.”

��Hospitality, Dream.” Techno got to his feet. “C’mon, walk us back.”

The groan Dream gave turned into a yawn halfway through. Standing, Dream adjusted his mask once more – it had slipped to the side – and headed towards the door.

“God, fine.”

******************************************************************

It took about five minutes for Dream to stumble the first time. The second time, he slipped on a snow-covered log and might have fallen if Techno hadn’t caught him, steadying him with a pat on the back.

“Whoa, easy, Dream,” he said.

Dream didn’t pull away. He rubbed a hand over his face, beneath the mask, and then shrugged. He knew the argument that Techno was about to make and knew there wasn’t anything he could say because Techno was right.

“You got a death wish, mate, running yourself so ragged like this?” asked Phil.

Looking at him, Dream shrugged again because he couldn’t argue with that, either, not really.

“Good thing you decided to walk us back, Dream, you can stay with me tonight,” Techno said. “I have room, I told you that.”

“I’m not—I’m not staying with you.”

“Sure you are, Dream.” Taking Dream’s hands, Techno ducked under his arm, turning so his back was to Dream and lifting him. Dream struggled for a moment before giving up and letting Techno tug him up until he was settled on Techno’s back. “We can’t have you trippin’ and breakin’ a leg before the big fight.”

“This is so fucking embarrassing,” Dream muttered but he looped his arms around Techno’s neck.

“I mean, it is pretty embarrasin’ that I have to carry you but I don’t mind, man.”

Phil burst out laughing, slapping his knee.

“Oh, got him.”

“I hate both of you,” said Dream.

“I know, Dream.”

The laughter trailed off and silence fell as they walked. It didn’t take long for Techno to feel Dream’s head drop against his neck, chin resting on his shoulder, breathing now even. All his weight was now held up by Techno’s arms, hands under his knees.

“He’s asleep, isn’t he, Phil?”

Craning his head, Phil tried to get a good look.

“Out like a fucking light,” he said, with a huff of amusement.

“I knew it. Man was practically asleep on his dang feet.”

“Some big bad,” Phil said. “He’s like a damn toddler.”

“Not gonna lie, he weighs a bit more than a toddler but yeah.”

“So, was your plan to bully him into walking us home just so you could make him take a nap?”

“Well, when you put it like… But yeah, that was exactly my plan, Phil. That was exactly my plan.”

[nyaagolor]

Howdy again, if it's the meta world VS "real world" thing in Umineko that's got you stumbling, don't worry. The assumption Ryukishi and co. seem to be going with is that the meta world IS real, and everyone's just chilling in a happy magic afterlife post-series (hence how episodes 7, 8, and 9 can even happen). The "07th Expansion All Characters Settings Collection" guidebook even has little epilogue blurbs for the cast, I can link you the translation hosted on the wiki if you want. It's still bleak in the sense that, yknow, everyone was dead from the start and the whole journey was more of a "coming to terms with what happened" kind of deal, but I think it works given stuff like the Divine Comedy references going on (if you read Battler as Dante and Beatrice as uh, Beatrice, a lot of Umineko'll start to make sense). The way I see the split is kind of an "as above, so below" type deal - while Tohya is down in the land of the living trying to write and solve things, Battler and friends really are up there fighting for their lives in purgatory, and the two reflect each other. Of course if that's not the problem you have, I'd love to hear what you're thinking!

hiii thank u for the ask!! (sorry this will be a Long One). I'll admit the meta world / real world stuff tripped me up at first, because looking at episodes 4 and 8 it really seemed to be implying that the metanarrative was the coping mechanism of Ange+Tohya and their way of pretending like their loved ones got the happy endings they didn't get in life rather than something we can actually assume happened. However extra content implies this is not the case, Ryukishi doesn't feel like the author who would do that especially after the thesis of Higurashi, and tbh even if he did there was enough plausible deniability that I would just imagine the Golden Land as real because You Gotta Cope Somehow. I love the "as above so below" vibes too, that's a fun new aspect to incorporate

My biggest hangup with the ending was basically in the idea that Sayo's narrative is fundamentally doomed. I was under the impression that the boat scene was implying that Sayo couldn't be happy even if she did escape due to the burden of the truth / her trauma. The positive framing of the catbox remaining at the bottom of the ocean initially struck me as a "her death is the happiest ending you can hope for because of how fucked up this all is" which is already a nihilistic narrative but downright unbearable when given to an intersex trans woman. I just don't vibe with hopeless trans narratives at all, and felt like I had misinterpreted smth bc Ryukishi isn't really a nihilistic guy. I'll admit I got a little soured to the narrative as a whole when I looked around online and saw people talking about how Sayo getting a happy ending was "missing the point".

After talking to @heartgold I realized that I had reversed the causality a bit. I was under the impression while playing that Ryukishi's insistence that "things had to happen this way" was him not just saying "oh everyone is already dead, the end result is already the same bc we're looking back at past events" but also "it doesn't matter what individual actions people took, it was always going to end in tragedy". I realize now it's more of a "this was totally preventable in so many ways but it already happened and now we have to grieve and cope in whatever way we can manage" kinda thing rather than a "this is fate and Sayo was screwed regardless", so I'm cool with that aspect. (Also I won't lie I prefer to imagine the boat scene as almost entirely metaphorical and more of a representation of the fragmentation of Battler's consciousness due to trauma in a similar way as what happened to Sayo, but that's neither here nor there)

The other part of it, and the thing I'm still really hung up on, is the question of whether or not the Golden Land is actually a happy ending and, if it is real, whether we're supposed to view it as a sorta perverse tragedy. On one hand, the alters are all implied to be separate people and they get their happy endings (yay), but on the other hand that doesn't really fix nor address Sayo feeling like she needs romantic love to be fulfilled (also The Incest(?) I'm genuinely unsure if the whole "alters becoming separate entities" negates the incest or not). The idea that Sayo was so far gone that even the fantasy created from her best memories does not allow her to truly be happy is just so insanely depressing to me, so I find myself stuck with that friction of wanting Sayo to have her prince and her white horse and her fantasy happy ending while also not wanting to downplay the truth. Having this little moral dilemma feels like the point of Episode 8 and really gets us into Tohya's head, which is awesome, but also gives me a lot of mixed feelings. Knowing that Sayo's truth literally has Beatrice married to Battler makes it even tougher bc I can't just use plausible deniability and say they're platonic bc they are uh. very much not as far as Ryukishi is concerned. I'm still working out my feelings on it, mostly because I desperately want Sayo to have everything she's ever wanted but also having to contend with the little part of me that's whispering "it can't and shouldn't happen and you know it". Alas. Umineko.

PS: thank you for telling me about the character booklet, that's SO cute!!! I love the little details about everyone and the cat-ear Bern is everything I've ever wanted

[gvfgal]

10. Threes a Crowd

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

Strictly 18+.

A/n: I sure hope you guys are ready cause shit is about to get crazzyyyyyy 😉. I also wanna take the time so say thank you so much to all who read and interact with my stories! All the reactions and the praises and the sweet comments in my asks and messages really keep me going with this whole writing thing! I love you guys 🩷. As always, please read at your own discretion as this story has a lot of dark themes, but also enjoy the ride!

Content Warnings: vomiting (Emetophobia triggers), mentions of pregnancy (some negative elements attached to it, heavy angst… may be missing a few but I think I touched the big ones.

Word Count: 3k

Masterlist

Jake wasn’t beside you the next morning, but that wasn’t unusual. What was unusual was the wave of nausea that hit you the moment your eyes opened. Sitting upright only made it worse. Clutching a hand over your mouth, you scurried into the bathroom, barely making it to the toilet before vomiting violently.

You heaved until your stomach ached, your body convulsing with each retch. When you finally finished, you collapsed back on your heels with a shuddering sigh. Tilting your head back, you fought to keep tears at bay. Part of it was the sting of throwing up, but the real reason for the tears forming in your eyes was the gnawing suspicion of what this sudden sickness most likely meant.

The suspicion had been there, lingering in the back of your mind. You were about a week late. As much as you knew it to be true, you refused to believe it without solid proof. The reality was too grim, and you were determined to delay facing it for as long as possible.

Gathering your composure, you flushed the toilet and went to the sink to wash your hands and face. You looked at your reflection in the mirror, noticing the pallor of your skin and the worry etched across your features. After brushing your teeth thoroughly, you avoided mouthwash, fearing it might trigger another wave of nausea.

Once you felt physically better, you reentered the bedroom and picked up your phone, dialing Angela’s number. It was still early, and the phone rang several times before her groggy voice answered.

“Hey, Ange,” you said, trying to conceal the tremor in your voice, “can you come over? I need your help.”

There was a pause on the other end, then Angela’s voice softened with concern. “Of course. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Are you okay?”

You swallowed hard, the gravity of your situation pressing down on you. “I don’t know,” you whispered. “Just… please hurry.”

Hanging up, you sat on the edge of the bed, your mind racing. The minutes dragged by as you waited for Angela, each second amplifying your anxiety. You knew you had to face the truth, but the fear of what it would mean for your future—and for Jake—was unsettling.

The Barbarians stood around their usual meeting spot, waiting for Alejandro to arrive. They had agreed that the money would be delivered to him in three separate drop-offs, ensuring that if anything went wrong, not all of the money would be lost.

Jake was anxious. If Alejandro wasn’t pleased with how things were going, all the blame would fall on him, as it was his idea.

Ace sensed Jake’s unease but knew better than to draw attention to it. He had unwavering faith in Jake and his plan. If things went awry due to Alejandro’s dissatisfaction, he would back Jake to the end. This silent understanding allowed Jake to remain calm.

As always, thirty minutes past the planned meeting time, three black Escalades pulled up. Alejandro leapt out of the middle one as soon as its engine idled.

Two of his men walked past the group to the truck where Nicky stood. Nicky lifted the back of the truck, and the men retrieved several bags of cash before stepping aside to begin counting.

Jake felt the weight of Alejandro’s scrutinizing gaze as he stared down Jake and the rest of the Barbarians while his men counted the money.

After a stretch of silence, one of the men looked at his boss and gave a thumbs up. “Looks like it’s all here.”

Alejandro’s expression shifted to one of delight, and he let out a loud cackle. He strode over to Jake and shook his hand roughly. “You know, I knew when the Barbarian Prince had a plan, I wouldn’t be disappointed.”

Nicky rolled his eyes in disgust. He couldn’t understand why Jake was getting so much credit when he and his boys were the ones handling the money. Without him, Jake’s plan wouldn’t be succeeding.

Jake shook Alejandro’s hand, ignoring Nicky’s disapproving glare burning into his back. “I told you that you could count on us,” he said, concealing the nerves still coursing through his veins.

“I knew I could count on you,” Alejandro emphasized, his hazel eyes piercing into Jake’s, still not releasing his grip.

His men began moving the bags into their cars, giving Ace a sense of relief. With the first sum of money in Alejandro’s possession, they were one step closer to being done with this ordeal.

“But,” Alejandro lifted a finger, “I don’t want to celebrate too soon. You still have two more drops to prove that putting my faith in you and this club wasn’t a big waste of my time.”

Jake nodded. “I understand.”

Alejandro smiled again, patting Jake on the cheek. “I knew you would.”

He turned to Ace with a sly grin. “You’ve got a good one here, Acey boy. An excellent choice for your new club President, don’t you agree?”

Ace glanced at Jake, then quickly at Nicky, knowing he wouldn’t like the sound of that. “I guess he’s a pretty good choice,” he chuckled. “But it’ll be up to the guys to vote.”

Alejandro, clearly in an instigating mood, looked back at Nicky’s dissatisfied face. “I bet that will be an interesting ordeal. Am I allowed to cast a vote of my own?”

He laughed before anyone could answer, patting Ace on the arm. “Kidding, of course. I trust your men know what’s best for them. At least, I hope they do.”

With the cars now loaded up, Alejandro turned to make his exit. “Keep up the good work, Barbarian Prince. I’ll see you next time around.”

As Alejandro and his men drove off, the tension lingered. Jake knew the road ahead was fraught with challenges, but with Ace’s silent support and the stakes so high, failure was not an option.

You held your head in your hands as you sat on the toilet lid, overwhelmed. Angela sat across from you on the bathroom counter, the four positive pregnancy tests lined up beside her, taunting and mocking you.

It had been quiet for several minutes, Angela watching you process the reality laid out before you.

“What am I gonna do, Ange?” you finally sobbed, covering your face to stifle your cries. “I never planned on staying here this long. I never planned on this happening. I was just trying to save up enough money to get away, and now…” you paused to regain your composure, “I can’t just leave. Not like this. I just…”

Words failed you, and you continued to cry. This was the last situation you thought you’d find yourself in when you traveled to Genoa. It complicated things beyond measure, and you weren’t even sure where to start.

Both possible outcomes were terrifying.

Angela crossed over to you and rubbed a soothing hand down your back. She knew how desperately you wanted to leave, but this was a sticky situation.

“I can’t tell you what to do,” she sighed, trying her best to comfort you. “That’s a decision you have to make on your own. But can I tell you what I think you should do?”

You looked up at her with a sniffle, your face pale from crying so hard.

“You need to tell Jake. You need someone other than me to help support you and figure out what you want to do. Whatever choice you make, I’m sure he’ll support you.”

You shook your head. “What if he’s mad? Im sure this is just as much an inconvenience for him as it is for me.”

Angela offered a sympathetic smile. “Or, it could be the one thing both of you need. You’ll never know unless you talk to him.”

You seriously doubted that would be the case, but you knew you couldn’t keep something like this from Jake. Maybe if you got his perspective, you’d find some clarity on your next steps.

Angela comforted you while you cried for several more minutes until your tears finally ceased. She agreed to take your shift at the Tavern that evening, giving you time to work things out with yourself.

“Are you going to be alright?” she asked worriedly, standing at the front door of the trailer, hesitant to leave you alone so soon.

You shrugged, feeling detached from reality. “I’ve been alright so far. I’ll be alright now.”

Angela pulled you into a tight hug before descending the staircase. “Call me if you need anything.”

“I will,” you assured her, “thanks.”

You shut the door behind her and let out a heavy sigh. Entering the kitchen, you checked the time on the stove. Jake would be home in a few hours. If you were going to have this conversation with him, it would be better to do it over food.

Determined to make the most of the time you had, you started preparing dinner. As you chopped vegetables and set water to boil, your mind raced with possible scenarios of how Jake might react. You hoped for understanding but prepared yourself for disappointment.

Time did nothing to calm you. Each passing minute only heightened your anxiety, and you almost ruined dinner three separate times. You went back and forth on whether you even wanted to tell Jake the news, playing out different scenarios in your head. You could delay no longer, you heard the front door open, and dread surged through you. You couldn’t even look at Jake, pretending the pot you were stirring required your full attention.

A smile spread across his face at the aroma of a home-cooked meal greeted him.

“You know, Cherry, you’re starting to spoil me,” he joked, plopping down on the couch. “Coming home to home-cooked meals every day—I’m gonna start getting used to this.”

He waited for your usual sly remark, but when you didn’t even glance at him, he got up and walked into the kitchen to see what was wrong.

“Cherry? Everything alright?”

You froze, your back still to him, your hands beginning to tremble as you struggled to keep your composure.

“Cherry?” His voice was more worried now.

Slowly, you turned to face him, your eyes revealing the depth of your concern.

“Jake, I’m pregnant.”

Jake’s expression shifted from worry to shock. His mouth fell open slightly, and his eyes widened. You watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed with a hard swallow.

“What?”

You held his gaze for a moment longer before retreating to the bedroom. When you returned with the pregnancy test in hand, Jake was still rooted to the spot.

Handing it to him, you watched as he stared down at the two pink lines, trying to decipher his thoughts from his expressionless face.

Finally, he looked back up at you, seeing the tears you were trying to hold back.

He wished he could say something, but he knew nothing would come out right under the pressure he felt.

Jake turned, tossed the pregnancy test on the counter, and fled toward the front door, not even bothering to grab his helmet.

“Jake—” you called after him.

He flung the door open, stormed down the stairs, and brought his bike to life.

You stood in the doorway as he backed out of the driveway, then sped out of the trailer park.

The roar of his engine faded into the distance, leaving you in the thick silence of an uncertain future.

Jake rode around the isolated desert for hours. Though the landscape around him was peaceful, the turmoil inside him was a completely different story. The setting sun cast long shadows over the sand, but all he could see was the image of the positive pregnancy test, the two pink lines searing into his mind like a brand. Your face, pale and filled with worry, haunted him.

As he sped through the barren terrain, the wind whipped around him, doing little to cool the feverish thoughts that raced through his head. How could this have happened? He thought about the nights spent with you, the careless passion, the moments where everything seemed to fall away except for the two of you. Now, those moments had led to something neither of you had planned for, something that changed everything.

Fear gripped him. He had no idea how to be a father, no idea how to provide the stability a child needed. His own upbringing had been anything but stable, and the thought of repeating that cycle terrified him. Could he even be the kind of man who could handle this responsibility? Or was he destined to fail, like he always feared deep down?

He recalled the look in your eyes, the mixture of hope and fear. You had been so vulnerable, and he had fled. You didn’t deserve to be left standing there, alone and scared. He knew he had to face this, face you, but the weight of it all felt crushing.

Then there was the club. The Barbarians were his family, and regardless of how he felt about it, they were a big part of his life, but the idea of raising a child within that lifestyle was daunting. He couldn’t imagine bringing up a kid surrounded by the violence and uncertainty that came with being part of the club. What if he had a son? Would he want to follow in his father’s footsteps as Jake had, getting drawn into the same dangerous world? And what if things got ugly somewhere down the line? The thought of putting you and the child at risk because of his affiliations filled him with dread. He couldn’t bear the idea of his child living in fear, or worse, being harmed because of the choices he had made. The prospect of needing to shield his family from the darker parts of his life weighed heavily on him, adding another layer to his already overwhelming concerns.

Amid all these worries, the one that gnawed at him the most was how you were coping. He imagined you back at the trailer, trying to hold yourself together, and his heart ached. You had looked so scared, so fragile, and he had walked out. The thought of you feeling abandoned, dealing with this monumental change alone, made him feel like the lowest kind of coward.

A deeper fear, one he hadn’t dared to acknowledge, surfaced. What if you didn’t even want to keep the baby? The thought bruised him more than he expected. It hurt to think you might not see a future with this child, with him, but he also understood. This wasn’t the life you had planned. He couldn’t blame you if you decided this was too much, too soon. The uncertainty of it all weighed heavily on him, but he knew he had to be ready to support you, whatever decision you made.

As he rode further into the desert, the vast emptiness around him mirrored the confusion within. The stars began to emerge, one by one, in the twilight sky, each one a distant reminder of the unknown future ahead. He needed to figure this out, needed to find a way to be there for you and the baby. But how?

The questions swirled in his mind, each one without an answer. He rode harder, faster, as if he could outrun the reality of what lay ahead. But deep down, he knew he couldn’t. He had to go back, face the consequences, and figure out how to move forward.

Finally, he pulled to a stop atop a small hill, looking out over the desert expanse. The engine’s rumble faded, leaving him in a silence as vast as the horizon. In that stillness, he allowed himself a moment to breathe, to let the enormity of the situation settle over him.

He didn’t have all the answers. He didn’t know if he could be the man you needed, the father your child deserved. But he knew if that’s what you wanted, then he had to try. For you, for the baby, and for himself.

With a deep breath, he turned his bike around and started the long ride back. Back to you, back to the future he never saw coming but now had to face head-on.

It was the early hours of the next morning when Jake found his way back. When he saw you standing on the porch, anticipating his arrival, the guilt he had been wrestling with surged anew.

He dismounted his bike and approached you cautiously, your arms crossed tightly over your chest. The anger in your eyes pierced him, and he didn’t dare say a word, fully aware of his wrongdoing.

Unable to hold back any longer, you reached out and shoved him in the chest. He stumbled back slightly, but you weren’t satisfied. You shoved him again, harder, and again. Tears spilled down your face as your shoves turned into closed fists pounding against his chest. Jake stood still, allowing you to vent your fury, knowing he deserved every blow.

“Why did you leave?” you cried, continuing to strike him. “Why would you do that?”

He took hold of your wrists firmly, making you stop and look at him. “I’m sorry. I panicked, and I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t know what I was thinking, baby.”

Your bottom lip quivered. You wanted so badly to berate him more, but all you needed in that moment was his comfort. You collapsed into his chest, sobbing uncontrollably, and he wrapped his arms around you tightly, letting you know he didn’t plan on letting go.

Jake couldn’t fathom why this was such a difficult thing for you to face. You wanted to tell him that your distress had nothing to do with him and everything to do with your own inner grievances. Had you met Jake under different circumstances, this pregnancy might have been the most joyous thing that ever happened to you. And who knew, it still might turn out that way. But right now, you couldn’t see past the fear that consumed you.

However, you didn’t need to voice any of this to Jake. His next words provided the reassurance you desperately needed.

“Shhh, it’s okay, baby,” he soothed, running a hand over the back of your head. “You’re okay, I’m okay. We’re going to figure this out. I promise.”

The two of you stood on the porch until the sun began to show it’s first light, casting a soft glow over Cactus Creek. Jake finally pulled away slightly so he could look you in the eyes. You appeared more beautiful to him than ever before, with the promise of new life growing inside you.

“Let’s go to bed,” he suggested gently.

You nodded, wiping the last remnants of tears from your face. “Okay.”

Taglist: @scoreofinfantryvines @takenbythemadness @gretasfallingsky @dannys-dream @josh-iamyour-mama @slut4lando @hollyco @wetkleenex-gvf @earthgrlsreasy @edgingthedarkness

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

hi Ange! If you are taking requests for drabbles regarding your Ettore series, could you write maybe write a subby Ettore? Reading that he finally kissed the girl got me thinking about him letting his guard down and allows her to be on top and pleasure him🫠

Sorry to have kept you waiting so long for this!

I don't envision Ettore as being submissive, so I've adapted this to fit the series as best as I can. I hope you enjoy it.

Warnings: Language, violence, choking, smut. Word count: ~1200

Main series masterlist

Author's note: No gods, no masters, no tag lists. Only scabs community label fics. If you find yourself tempted to slap a label on this, please block me instead.

“You spend more time in the fucking Box than you do anywhere else.” Ettore glowers at her.

“Don’t be stupid.” She rolls her eyes. “I don’t use it any more than anyone else onboard.”

“Why bother with it...” He says darkly, roughly grabbing her hand and placing it over the rapidly growing bulge in his scrubs. “...when you’ve got this?”

She sighs, pulling away from him. “We’ve spoken about this. Get it through your thick skull; we can’t get caught!”

Monte rounds the corner and she steps away from Ettore. He gives them both a curt nod as he passes.

“Fuckin’ cock block.” Ettore mutters under his breath, though it’s loud enough for her to hear and she is certain Monte must have too.

That bloody idiot was going to get them both found out.

She hurries away from him and spends the next few days doing all she can to avoid him. In her mind, the less they are seen together the better. The last thing she needs is for people to start growing suspicious and asking questions.

It feels almost painful to keep her distance, when she is drawn to him on instinct. The pull of their physical attraction to each other, coupled with their dysfunctional kinship leaves her feeling desperately lonely, and practically aching for his touch. Not that she’d ever admit that to him.

She refuses to meet his piercing gaze and finds any excuse to ensure she is never left alone with him. It’s just for a few days, she tells herself, let Monte forget what he heard and then things can go back to how they were.

The throbbing sensation between her legs is almost too much to bear as she lays in her bunk. This is ridiculous. They had gone longer than this without being together before. However, it’s usually circumstance that separates them, somehow it feels worse when it’s self imposed.

She groans in frustration, climbing from the mattress and stalking down the corridor. She has only one destination in mind; The Box. The quicker she finds relief the quicker she’ll be able to fall asleep, she reasons.

Her breath catches in her throat when it appears that Ettore has had the same idea. She stops in her tracks. He is just a few paces ahead of her, about to go inside, the muscled planes of his back illuminated in the low artificial lighting.

He turns when he sees her and her heart races. She doesn’t miss the tick of his jaw, the flare of his nostrils, or the way his eyes darken as he drinks in the sight of her. She knows that look, knows what he gets like when he stares at her like that.

“No.” She tells him simply, the wobble in her voice betraying the fear she’s attempting to mask.

She turns to flee from him, but he is too quick for her, closing the gap in a few long strides and tackling her to the floor. She presses the palm of her hand against his face, attempting to push him away, but he easily overpowers her. It’s impossible for her to get any purchase on the smooth linoleum floor in order to properly defend herself, and Ettore is much too strong for her anyway.

“Stop it.” She grits out in frustration, as he pins her wrists above her head, irritated at the way her body responds to him, practically arching into him.

He leans in to kiss her and she bites down on his lip, causing him to pull back with a hiss of pain, releasing her wrists as he does so.

Seizing her only opportunity to take back control of the situation, her hand flies out, gripping his throat with such force that he topples over. It’s only once she finds herself on top of him in their scuffle that she feels how painfully hard he is against her.

She stares at his face for a moment, his pupils are blown wide with lust as her fingers continue to squeeze around his neck. She softens, her resolve crumbling, desire for him winning out over the need to put some space between them.

Their hands work hurriedly to rid each other of their trousers and underwear, and she sinks down onto him. She has to bite her lip to stop herself crying out in relief as she stretches to accommodate him. Her hand finds its way back to Ettore’s throat once she begins to rock her hips back and forth, surprised when he doesn’t try to push her off. He stares up at her instead, jaw slightly slack and eyes hooded. 

She sets a hurried pace, aware they could be caught at any moment. She clenches around him at the thought, causing Ettore to grunt. He pulls himself up, planting his feet onto the floor and meets her thrust for thrust.

As her fingers slacken around his neck, his hand winds itself into the hair at the back of her head, pulling hard.

She whimpers, the tightening in her lower belly growing more intense as the lewd, wet sounds of him pushing up into her, in sync with her downwards movements, intermingle with his laboured breaths.

His pulse flutters wildly against her fingertips and, with another tug of her tresses, she finally topples over the edge, reapplying pressure to his jugular as she fights to stay silent in the wake of the pleasure that washes over her in white hot waves.

This triggers Ettore’s own release, as his movements become sloppy, finally stilling as he pulsates and spills himself inside of her, eyes screwed shut and lips parted.

They stay like this for a few moments, allowing each other to catch their breaths.

“You didn’t think I’d just let you end things, did you?” He says, once his heart rate has evened out.

“What are you talking about?” She asks, her eyebrows pinching together in confusion, still feeling light headed from her climax.

“You haven’t even bothered to look at me in days.” He tells her, sounding petulant.

“I’m not ending things, stupid.” She chides softly. “Monte heard you call him a cock block. I was putting some temporary distance between us, so people wouldn’t get suspicious.”

For the briefest of flashes she notices something akin to boyish happiness pass across Ettore’s face, it makes him appear soft, vulnerable, but it disappears so quickly she wonders if perhaps she imagined it as his cold, hardened stare returns.

“So you still wanna...keep doing this then?”

She nods. “I just need you to be more careful. Be more discreet.”

She climbs off of him on shaky legs and begins to redress.

“Let you use The Box in peace, you mean?” He asks, pulling his bottoms back on and standing up.

She sighs. This was clearly always going to be a bone of contention for him.

“You know you feel better than that, right?”

He lets out a dry chuckle. “Little prick tease.” He says with a wink, before walking away.

[lilac-hecox]

would you write that idea that's been moving around here recently with everybody thinking ian and anthony are exes before actually getting to know them? bonus points if they hear about it and they actually reconsider some things 👀

Actually Exes?- Ian/Anthony - ianthony

--

It’s at lunch when Angela perks up and lets her mouth move faster than her brain, letting her thoughts fall like loose change from her mouth with no one to catch them.

“You know, I was thinking of how progressive it is that our company was not only founded by, but owned, and run successfully by a pair of exes. Gay exes at that.”

Chanse looks at her, arching an eyebrow. “Angela…”

“What?” she asks, taking a bite of her salad. “Don’t you think that’s cool? I mean. You don’t really see that a lot. Imagine buying back your company with your ex-boyfriend and making a big theatrical reunion and all that.”

“Oh, Ang…” Amanda says, as if she were looking at a cat who is struggling to figure out how to get itself out of a box or something.

Angela looks around at her friends and co-workers, and then she looks over at the far table where Ian and Anthony are seated, shoulder-to-shoulder. Anthony is cracking up at something Ian has said, a grin stretched across Ian’s face, as Anthony wheezes and pounds his fist on the table.

When Anthony regains his composure, they keep eating until Ian offers Anthony a bite of his salad from his own fork, which Anthony gladly takes.

“You’re telling me those two salads sharing freaks aren’t ex-boyfriends?” Angela asks.

“They aren’t,” Courtney says, turning away from Shayne next to her to focus on Angela and the conversation that had been going on next to them. “As much as it seems like they are.”

“But…” Angela says, frowning. All of her thoughts of a progressive Smosh being championed by queer owners flying out the window of her mind. “Look at them.”

Courtney smiles at the two men who are lost in a world that seems to be completely their own.

“I know, but I’ve known them a long time and as far as I know they’ve never been together.”

“This is one of those things where you guys are fucking with me, isn’t it?” Angela asks, “like, ha ha, Angela believed that Ian and Anthony never dated.”

“No! I swear!” Courtney says through giggles which isn’t helping her case.

“Bitch, don’t you think I would have said something?” Chanse asks.

“You did! Our half-time song at the funeral! The sexual tension of it all!”

Chanse blinks at Angela and then looks at the group around them.

“She’s got me there.”

“Angela,” Shayne says, smiling but more serious than the rest, “We swear as far as any of us know Ian and Anthony are just friends.”

Angela lets the conversation die down after that, but she keeps her eye on her bosses the rest of lunch in case they do anything that could signify that they ever were a couple.

Over the next few days Angela takes to watching Ian and Anthony. She follows a distance behind them as they walk down the hall together. She notes that Anthony knows the exact way Ian likes his coffee in the mornings. Later on, when they get ready to shoot, Angela overhears Ian reminding Anthony that he needs to grab a snack after the shoot because Anthony had a small breakfast. She watches Anthony smile and nod, reaching out to touch Ian’s arm in thanks.

There’s no way they’ve never dated.

She records a Lunchtime Podcast with them and Erin and during the episode they talk about how they sat together at lunch throughout high school. Ian even feeds Anthony a forkful of vegan spaghetti. Angela has to dig her nails into the palm of her hand to stop herself from asking outright during the podcast about their history and their relationship.

The next day Angela gets an email from Emily that they are looking for cast and crew meme submissions for the upcoming episode of Who Memed It? Angela scans the website Spencer had shown her for making memes, but nothing inspires her. She’s too wrapped up in this Ian and Anthony conspiracy.

The way they look at each other, talk to each other, how close they are, there is no way they aren’t amicable exes!

Things at Smosh get a little busier and Angela can’t keep track of Ian and Anthony as closely as she wants. She does walk by Ian’s office and catches him on his couch, phone in hand, Anthony with his head pillowed on Ian’s shoulder, napping there.

Then, they are set to film the Who Meme’d It? episode. Angela isn’t on the panel, but she sits and watches because those episodes are always a good time and really funny to watch be filmed. Ian and Anthony happen to be on the panel along with Courtney.

They go through the memes and then partway through Shayne presents a meme that is two people making out, bodies tangled together.

“So, this says, uh, how Angela sees Ian and Anthony,” Shayne says, laughing as he explains the meme.

Anthony laughs, his cheeks red, and Ian is grinning.

“Angela has seen us make out?” Anthony asks, glancing at her across the set.

“No, she just thought you two were actual ex-boyfriends,” Shayne says, laughing.

The cast and crew watching break into laughter, Angela too.

“Hey!” she says, standing up to defend herself, “it’s an honest mistake to make!”

The laughter quiets down and the panel make their guesses. The meme was made by Shayne, and he sheepishly grins at Angela as she glares at him.

When the video is over, Angela makes a beeline for Shayne, she is so wrapped up in giving him shit over his meme that she misses the way Ian and Anthony happen to slink off the set together, as usual.

--

“So, Angela thought we actually dated,” Anthony says, “that’s funny.”

“Of course she did,” Ian says, rolling his eyes, “she also thought xylophone was spelt with a ‘Z’.”

“Yeah, true, and she and Chanse wrote that half-time show saying we had sexual tension,” Anthony adds.

Ian looks at Anthony, the two of them in their shared office.  

“Our meddlesome kids,” Ian says with a sigh.

Anthony grins, “Yeah, see, when you say they are our kids, when we’re their dads, they kinda have a point.”

“Oh,” Ian says, “you want to talk to them? Tell them to tone it down?”

Anthony smiles, leaning across the expanse of Ian’s desk and covering Ian’s hand with his own, squeezing gently, affectionately.

“Nah, it’s way more fun this way.”