#HES PERFECT. today he was trying to do a french accent and he started off with ‘its-a me’ like fucking mario

[nonrebreather]

i am so attracted to dumbasses. he asked me “whoa your eyebrow is pierced? how does that work?” and i was so enamored. baby dont you worry your pretty little head about that

[running-with-kn1ves]

Fitness Trainer

A/N: I blended some french terms of endearment with English don't come for me. But is Antoine really French, or is he feigning this way to get closer to you? (Had a fem idea for this too)

Synopsis: Another day at the gym, your personalized trainer is helping you out a lot more intimately than he would with most clients.

TW: Creep gym trainer, yandere themes, mentions of future stalking/imagined groping, sensual content

And up... and down, just like that."

The squeeze on your hips kept you stable, even with your fingers shaking, mouth agape as hot breath was sucked in, and out. 

"One more, you can do one more for me."

"I can't..." you huffed, thighs quaking as the barbell on your shoulders made you ache. 

"Yes you can. C'mon sweetheart, we'll do it together."

He gripped the barbell beside where your sweating hands were, chest flush against your back as his feet entrapped the outside of your own. 

“Do it with me now,” He pulled the weight lower, forcing you to squat despite the agony in your ankles and tailbone. “Push through it, baby.”

The sweet name just slipped out, breathy against your ear as his hot exhales slowed compared to your huffs. It almost made you slip.

You could feel the muscles in your wrists shaking, vision going blurry as sweat drips into your eyes. One of his hands leaves the barbell to grip your hip, forcing you back into a standing position as your knees nearly give out. 

You rise slowly back up with the barbell in your hands, nearly groaning in pain at the strain. You finally lift your arms to your chest, finishing the rep with a strained frown as your personal trainer forces the weight off of your arms. His taller stature makes it easy to put the barbell back on the rack in front of you. 

You feel as if you could collapse, an hour and a half of intense training brought upon by your own determination leaving you exhausted and a little discouraged. You thought you could do more, push yourself harder-- but at the end of the day, the amount of reps your body would let you do, was it. You’d crack if you tried to go even further, end up tearing something or worse. 

Your trainer could tell; the way you sweat, your eyebrows furrowed as you kept that hard, strained look with each motion he made you do. 

“I hate to say it, but you’re done for today.” 

You look up at him from your place on the ground, water bottle hanging from your grip as you try to catch your breath. 

Antoine had only worked with you for a couple weeks now, what started as once a week now thrice, if you had the time after work of course. But somehow, he always enticed you to come back. 

His body, which should’ve been motivation, was more or less disheartening-- rippling muscles and bulging quads peeking beneath his tight ‘TRAINER’ black tee and athletic shorts as the perfect ensemble. 

He was so sweet, so encouraging and upsettingly positive. Always filling up your water bottle, saying how he’s always admiring the growth of muscle definition in your back, giving you light touches to show which area of your body that a machine might work out. He even offered post-exercise massages to make sure you didn’t get sore after each session, free of cost as a perk of joining the gym’s ‘premium membership’, an idea he sold you on. That, along with the complementary protein shakes made that were hi “specialty.”

You knew it was his job to hook you in, but who could say no to that sweet meathead’s face? Which is why you were here, on a late saturday afternoon, in this nearly empty gym with him that he convinced you to love. 

You couldn’t help but feel a little guilty, even if he was the one persuading you, offering to use his time off to come in and help train you.

“Feelin’ sore?” Antoine bends down next to you, offering a small towel from his pocket. The twinge of accent in his speech makes him sound funny, dry lips parted as he looks you over. “You went harder than usual today.” 

“Yeah,” You let out after a gulp of water. “Definitely gonna feel this later tonight; ha, maybe I’ll actually take you up on one of those massages.” 

You point with your water bottle, grinning tiredly as Antoine’s eyes seem to shine. He licks his lips to hide a giddy grin. 

“Of course-- definitely, I’d be more than happy to. These hands can work magic you wouldn’t believe.”

Antoine shuffles behind you, pulling at your shoulders to make you sit up straight. 

“Wha- you mean right now? I’m all, sticky.” 

“Now’s the best time, your muscles are just coming down from the effort they’ve exerted. Best to prevent any aches and pains as soon as possible rather than waiting.” 

He begins gentle rubs against the base of your neck; vast, warm fingers grace your collar with a softness you hadn’t expected. Usually when people try to massage your shoulders they’re too harsh, too grippy; but Antoine was rhythmic, pushing into your back with his palms as he made his way down to your shoulder blades. 

“But considering you’ve pushed so hard, I don’t want to see you back here for a couple of days.” Antoine insisted.

“Awe, you want me outa here that badly?” You joked, laying your head forward as Antoine’s fingers made their way to the back of your neck, running pressed thumbs down from your hairline. “I see how it is, prefer your other clients over me.” 

It felt sort of weird, having him massage you so deeply on the gym floor out in the open. But the only person here in the middle of the afternoon was an older woman, paying more attention to her cellphone on the treadmill than anything you two were doing. 

Antoine shook your shoulders. 

“Don’t say that, now!” He leaned his head over next to yours from behind, getting so close your nose almost brushed against his cheek. “It’s not funny; I hope you don’t see me that way.”

“It’s just a joke,” You titter, running your handtowel down the front of your shirt.

“I never understand your jokes.” He sighs, hands moving down to your tailbone. He lifts the bottom of your shirt sticking to your skin, digging his hands against the soft flesh. 

“Woah, hey,” You turn to look at him, but his head is down, looking at his fingers. 

“I have to get to your hips, you can’t do so many squats without release. And at the rate you were going to day… well, you see what I mean.”

The bottom of your tanktop covers his knuckles as he pulls and kneads the skin of your lower back. 

“O-okay.. I guess..” 

He’s not usually so insistent, but he seems so genuine about it-- and, he’s the trainer, shouldn’t they know best? 

He begins with little strokes to your skin, almost caressing. You grow anxious until his thumbs push deep lines into your flesh. 

“Does that feel a little better, Mon cœur? Less pain?” He asks up close, staring at your heated and perspiring cheeks. 

You’re awed by how good it actually feels, the tension melting away with each push of his knuckles into your skin, and grip of his hands around your waist as each of his thumbs digs into your sides. 

“Yeah… feels a lot better..” 

“You can rest your head on my shoulder, don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart.”

You do as he says, arching your back with your head against his shoulder. He had easier access into your back, working his hands up beneath your shirt to reach your mid abdomen.

The deeper Antoine kneaded, the farther he grew up your back, the more… audible, his groans became. Each dip was another breathy moan into your ear. It was fine at first, just the sounds of his work; and then, it became almost, uncomfortably sensual. 

“Just like that...” He mumbled, giving a deep hum.

With your neck so close, his nose dips against your jaw to sneak a sharp inhale of your scent. It was heightened from your hour of strenuous work, a smell he couldn’t get enough of. 

But you jumped forward before he could nuzzle as deep against you as he wished. 

“Uh! Thanks, I feel a lot better now. Really… got all the kinks out.” 

You clutch your towel, facing your trainer to prevent him from working his “magic fingers” again. 

“Of course. And that’s just a taste, a fully body massage would leave the workout you just completed to drain away, as if it was just a dream.” He wiggles his hands with a sheepish grin, one so simple and sincere your guard fell again.

Sure, guys at the gym could be creeps, but he was your trainer, eyes kind and a little foreignly clueless, who only wanted to see you thrive; he’d never try something with you, his client. 

“Yeah, maybe next time. But now, I need to shower and get this stink off of me.” You bring yourself to your feet, all wobbly and achy-galore. Even with Antoine’s work on your shoulders, you can feel your back beginning to seize up. It’s gonna be hard to bend down for a while. 

Offering a hand to Antoine still on the rubbery gym floor, he takes it with a slight ease. He doesn’t use the weight in his hand to get up, knowing he’d just drag you back down to the floor if he did. 

“Thanks again-- I mean, I know it’s your job but--” 

“Don’t thank me; it’s always a treat to have you here, my cherie. I’d train you for free, you know!” 

You laugh, flattered at the idea. If you were a bit more forward, you’d ask him for that little perk. Hey, paying for his service certainly wasn’t cheap!

Making your way to the bathroom, you thank your lucky stars the hard part’s over. Too bad you can’t look at Antoine’s pretty face anymore, though. 

Antoine on the other hand, follows your stumbling body with his eyes, watching as you disappear behind the water fountain and bathroom door. 

His eyes jut back and forth between the machines and front door for witnesses, seeing none before snatching up your forgotten towel. How’d you never notice they didn’t just give these things out? 

He’d brought the cute handkerchief from home, wanting to appear the most of a gentleman. And, in the hopes that you’d use it every and anywhere. 

Oh, he thrived off that scent, pushing the white damp cloth heavy against his nose. It smelled even more potent of you, moreso than the few inches away of sniffs he usually got. 

His tongue just barely brushed against it, writhing in ecstasy from how it still held the stickiness of your sweat. You didn’t know how intoxicating it was to him, watching each bead of sweat leave your neck, the dip of your back when he got the chance to help hold that barbell with you… it was almost maddening, how strictly he had to restrain himself from lapping at your hot skin and running his hands beneath your gymwear. 

 No, he had to save this for later. What would his manager think if he saw him acting so ferally? 

Besides, there were more important matters to attend to. Such as, taking out the bathroom trash, a simple excuse to slide his manager for the opportunity to watch you shower. 

Who knew working here would have such great advantages in getting close to you. 

[changetyre]

Don’t know if you take requests but I really want a fic with Pierre where y/n is a presenter for Sky Sports or something and they start having an affair. Maybe they sleep together after his podium when his gf isn’t in the paddock and then it starts to become and regular occurrence

Dirty Little Secret II Pierre Gasly x Reader ⒽⓌ

SUMMARY: Sometimes all it takes to break your morals is a French accent and ocean-blue eyes.

WARNINGS: **18+** ,cheating (Not proofread)

A/N: I do not condone cheating but I would lie if I said I didn't enjoy a fic with this plot every once in a while...strictly fictional cheating though...enjoy xx

You watched proudly as Pierre stood up in the third step of the podium his smile bigger than Daniel Riccirdo's at this point with how good his race was after struggling for so long.

You'd be lying if you said that you felt nothing for this man, not even when he looked down at you sending a wink your way as if his girlfriend wasn't watching this at home right now.

This was wrong, so wrong on so many levels yet still it'd be dumber if you tried to deny that he didn't make you feel all sorts of ways.

He was so flirty, so incredibly flirty, and the way his eyes just penetrated deep into your soul whenever he looked at you was torture. Pierre knew exactly what he was doing when he played his games with you.

He knew it was wrong, he knew he was a taken man but he didn't seem to give a fuck as he continually spoke suggestively to you, also trying to get you to fall for him, to make the first move.

And yes he might've been successful in making you flustered, and he might've ALMOST been successful in getting you to go home with him multiple late nights but you were stubborn as well, there was a lot on the line for you and it would take more than a few pickup lines and sly smirks.

You were certainly an idiot for thinking so as all it took that night was for Pierre to whisper a few dirty thoughts into your head at the club for you to currently be riding him right now.

"Fuck you're so gorgeous." Pierre panted as he squeezed your breasts enjoying the sight on top of him.

"Shush." Your hands were planted on his chest for balance as you'd found the perfect pace bouncing up and down on him.

"This is better than I ever imagined." Pierre continued speaking only reminding you more and more about how wrong this was.

But he was right. It was so fucking good and you didn't have the willpower to stop.

"Fuck." The high was coming quickly and it was setting you off pace so Pierre took the liberty to flip you over before pounding into you.

"You gonna cum with me baby?" Pierre asked you, his lips right above yours as he set the perfect pace this time.

"Agh." You moaned, unable to properly think with the amount of pleasure coursing through your body right now. "Faster, faster, please" You begged Pierre as you could feel your orgasm coming.

"You're such a perfect little slut." Pierre smirked as he quickened his pace, capturing his lips in yours and muffling your cries of pleasure as your orgasm finally washed over you.

"Sh*t." You sighed, your body twitching as Pierre slowly decreased his pace but remained in you.

"I'll give you a few seconds." Pierre laughed as he turned you around with him, making sure you stayed connected.

Did this man want to go again? Your mind was screaming inside. You were spent but surprisingly not opposed to the idea. It would be the last time anyway so why not enjoy it?

3 months later

"Good Morning Pierre how are we feeling today?" You asked the man in front of you who immediately took the time to scan you from head to toe.

This didn't fail to set off butterflies in your stomach thanking the heavens that you remained strictly behind the camera so no one could see the way your cheeks suddenly tinted.

Pierre eyed you as if he hadn't completely railed you this very morning making you rush to work with shaky legs while trying to cover the multiple marks he'd left across your body.

"Excellent, I must say it's been a great morning...good workout and feeling ready to take on the weekend," Pierre smirked proudly his eyebrows raising at the insinuation.

The public was used to Pierre's flirty behavior, his dirty comments, and the way he liked to play around in interviews and it was all fun and games to him, he loved the thrill of it but for you, it was like walking on a very slim tight rope and every little comment just set you off balance a little making you almost slip into the abyss.

Maybe Pierre didn't give a shit if the world found out about the situation between the both of you, the one that should've never started in the first place, because it sure as hell seemed like it but for you it was different. You'd worked night and day to get to the position you had right now, having to face all sorts of sexist comments about how you got your job and constantly getting hate.

So something like this could cost you everything. Yet somehow every weekend you seemed willing to risk it all for a man?

It was crazy, you knew it was crazy. It simply didn't make sense. Anyone who knew you would never believe that the y/n that had sworn time and time again never to risk anything for a man, never be the person to possibly come between a relationship was now doing both for this guy.

Through the week these thoughts swirled in your head long enough to convince you that you had to put an end to it but as soon as Pierre showed up at your door, flashing those gorgeous blue eyes and speaking with that beautiful accent he had you down on your knees again and again...literally.

That and paired with the fact that this man fucked like a literal god seemed like reason enough for you to keep doing this...doing him.

"I'm glad to hear you're feeling so well Pierre, what can we expect from you this weekend?" You cleared your throat before asking hoping any nerves in your voice wouldn't be picked up by the public.

"Well, you can definitely expect a lot more from me." Pierre bit his lip as he maintained firm eye contact with you. "I hope I can go faster, push harder, I'll give my all as usual...all the way to the finish line," Pierre smirked.

Fuck Pierre Gasly. He knew exactly what he was doing and you hated how much it turned you on.

"Well, good luck to you Pierre." You quickly finished up knowing that you literally wouldn't be able to ask him anything else without sounding off.

"Alright, See you later." Pierre winked before walking to his next interview.

This really had to end this time.

[drvscarlett]

FRESH OUT THE SLAMMER

Esteban Ocon x childhood bestfriend!reader

Summary: Esteban has been pining over his bestfriend for the longest time. How long will it take her to see that what she's looking for is right in front of her?

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: And the first person that I'll be crossing off the list is Estie bestie. I think he is probably one of the drivers that gives me the wholesome aura. Let me know what you think or if you wanna be added to the taglist.

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

Now, pretty baby, I'm runnin' back home to you. Fresh out the slammer, I know who my first call will be to.

02-13-2002

Dear Diary,

Today I met my first ami (ami is friend in french) and he is Esteban something long name Okon. He is so nice to me. He said hi and helped me swing on the swing sets. I hope I meet more ami like Esteban but he is my favoriteeeee!!!

-y/n.

6 years old Esteban was actually running away from class when he stumbled upon a girl swinging alone at the park's swing set. He frowns because he noticed that every kid at the park have someone to play with but she has no one. Esteban was in an internal battle to just leave it alone but he can't help but feel bad for her.

He walked to the girl and he sat next to the empty swing next to her.

Y/N looked at the stranger that just joined her. Her interest was piqued because no one wants to be around her. She blamed it in her inability to speak French so she was hesitant to scare off the potential play mate.

"I'm Esteban, you are new?" Esteban started.

Esteban's english was not perfect especially with a strong French accent but he can hold a good conversation. He can see how the excited grin appeared in her face.

"Y/N! You speak good, can we be friends?" she asked.

She extends her hands to the boy and Esteban shakes it.

"Mon ami"Esteban agrees.

There was a visible confusion in her face. Esteban mentally slaps himself as he forgot that she cannot speak french.

"It mean friends"he added.

"Mon ami Esteban" it rolls right in her tongue.

And although there was a great language barrier, they managed to stay there at the swing sets till it was time to go home for dinner. Their antics and their grand hand gestures helped them communicate with each other.

11-28-2002

Dear Diary,

I told Estie that I will be missing thanksgiving a lot because I don't live in US. His mom and dad cooked, we had our own version of thanksgiving. I'm so grateful to my mon ami, Estie.

-y/n

Usually, Esteban's afterschool routine was drop his bags and leave the house to meet up with his bestfriend, Y/N. They would go sit at the swing set for hours or maybe watch the television at Y/N's house. It was a routine that Mrs. Ocon has been familiar with ever since Y/N came into the picture.

"Maman, can I talk to you about something"

Esteban made a beeline to his mother as soon as he gets home this afternoon.

"Did you have any troubles in school?" Mrs. Ocon wondered.

"Not at all Maman" Esteban answers "I just need help with something Maman about Y/N"

Mrs. Ocon tried to hide the smile in her face as he mutters a soft "oh". Meanwhile, Esteban reached out a piece of paper from his bag.

"Maman I drew this at school, this is a tradition that Y/N misses in America"Esteban explains.

The paper was filled with drawings of stick figures sitting in a table. The table was filled with dishes messily drawn in a muddle of green, brown, and orange.

Mrs. Ocon looks at her son with confusion, she still didn't know what he needs help in.

"What are you trying to say Esteban?"she asked

"This 28 is the thanksgiving dinner and Y/N says that her parents will be busy. She told me its just like a normal dinner but you say thank you for everything you are grateful about"Esteban elaborates "Can we do that Maman and can we invite Y/N to join us"

"That's a wonderful gesture to do for your friend Esteban" Mrs Ocon coos.

Esteban breaks out into a grin with the agreement of his mother.

"But you will be helping me prepare the dishes okay?" Mrs. Ocon added

"Of course Maman, I'll do anything"

Esteban gives his Mother a tight hug. He was extremely grateful because he knows how much Y/N has been missing so many american things lately. He was just scared that she'll leave France and then go back to America then he will never see her again.

On the other hand, Mrs. Ocon can call it mother instincts but she called it from this moment that her son is in love with his bestfriend.

05-17-2005

Dear Diary,

I like reading a lot while my bestfriend Estie loves riding the small karts. I like going to school, Estie doesn't like that. It seems like were different with each other. I'm scared of losing my bestfriend, what should i do?

But I'll support him. I want him to be happy. Thats what bestfriends do.

-y/n

"I wanna be a race car driver"Esteban blurts out one time that they were watching those Formula 1 races on the television.

Y/N started laughing because she thought it was a joke but when she looked at him, his eyes were looking at the race cars with so much determination.

"Wait, you are serious?"

"Can't you picture me driving those cars? It's like being wind woosh" Esteban mimicked the movement of the cars.

"But its like dangerous, you could crash" Y/N argues.

They have seen some serious crashes in the times that they watched F1. Y/N couldn't forget that dogpile crash in Monaco just a few weeks ago, her heart nearly stopped when the car hits a marshal cleaning up debris.

"Then I'm going to train to be a good driver so I don't crash" Esteban confidently states.

"But what about school?"Y/N asked "You're not seriously leaving me there"

"Woah, I said I wanna be a race car driver"Esteban clarifies "I didn't say anything about leaving you. You are mon ami"

"But school Estie?"Y/N repeats

Both of them knows that Esteban never found a knack for the academics, his favorite class was physical education. As much as Y/N tries to encourage him to study, he didn't like to do that a lot. Esteban always said that the braincells of Y/N will be enough for them to share and to get through life.

"I really wanna be a race car driver"Esteban insisted.

Y/N knew Esteban very well that if he sets his mind to it then he is bound to do it. There is nothing else she can do but support it.

"Esteban Ocon, a grand prix winner" Y/N shows her encouragement "I could picture it the crowd goes roar and you step onto those podiums holding those big trophies"

Esteban grins at her enthusiasm.

"And then I could take you with me to watch them when you finish school"Esteban added "We could travel the world together when I become a driver"

"Esteban wait so if you do become a race driver then maybe I can meet Kimi"Y/N wondered.

"Wow you only want me to go to F1 for Kimi huh"

"Well its a good opportunity to meet the man, the myth, the legend"

06-16-2006

Dear Diary,

I'm just really really sad today. Estie will be moving far away from here. Maybe I only get to see him on the weekends. I'll miss my bestfriend, mon ami

-y/n

They were at the swing sets when Esteban broke the news that he was accepted to compete for karting competitions. Y/N was immediately ecstatic to hear this but there was a frown gracing Esteban's face.

"You just told me that you are gonna compete for go karting but why do you look so sad" Y/N inquires "Isn't this like the first step in being an F1 driver?"

It is but Esteban hadn't predicted how costly this whole thing will be and how sacrifices have to be made in order to reach his dreams.

"We have to leave the house"Esteban breaks the news.

"Leave?"Y/N was confused "I mean don't you really have to leave the house to go to the go karting place..but you'll come back right?"

He shakes his head and Y/N could feel the reason for the sad looks on his face. Her heart feels like cracking especially when Esteban starts to speak again.

"They sold the house to get me a kart" Esteban's voice was filled with so much sadness "They knew it was my dream and the whole family sees a lot of potential that I can do it. I just feel terrible that they have to make sacrifices to make my dreams come true"

They were merely ten years old but it was a lot of burden to carry and to understand. Y/N is at loss for words but she just grabbed Esteban's hands.

"Then you have to give your all and be the best race driver ever okay?"Y/N reminded him

Esteban looked at Y/N and there were stray tears leaving her eyes but she has a brave face on and an encouraging smile. He was lucky to have a family that believes in him and he was even more luckier because he gets to have another supporter in the form of his bestfriend.

"You make a lot of money so you can buy your home again and you can treat your parents out"Y/N says "You have to do well okay, we all believe in you Estie"

And its these words that kept repeating on Esteban's mind whenever he is on track.

11-23-2012

Dear Diary,

It's my birthday today. Did you believe that Estie waited till it turned midnight here in France just to call me. My bestfriend be setting up the standards for everyone. I got a cake in the morning from my classmates and then we went to have dinner. Sixteen, im getting old now.

-y/n

Esteban and Y/N had a tradition since they were kids that they will wait for each other's birthday because they wanted to be the first person to greet each other.

The minute that the clock strikes 12, Y/N's phone starts vibrating. She had a grin on her face upon seeing the name on the caller ID.

"Well hello there Mr. Lightning McQueen"Y/N greeted.

"Happiest birthday to my sweetest mon ami"Esteban cheered on the other line "You know that I wish you all the best things in life and all of happiness that life has to offer"

"I'm surprised you had time to call, don't you have to wake up early later for your race?" Y/N questioned.

It was true, they don't get to talk as much whenever Esteban was in a competition season. Y/N doesn't mind it that much because Esteban will message whenever he can.

"I wouldn't miss my favorite person's day" Esteban answers.

His remarks made Y/N blush. It was a good thing that this is just a phone call conversation or she had some explaining to do.

"That makes me miss you way way more Estie"Y/N sighs "I hope I can see you again"

"Is that your birthday wish?" Esteban jokes

"My birthday wish is an F1 seat for you" Y/N declares.

"Hey, stop wishing about me. It's your day wish for YOUR day" Esteban argues.

"Then I wish for my bestfriend to get an F1 seat so I can meet Kimi"Y/N rephrases.

They spent a good time talking to each other. Y/N updates Esteban about those girls in her class that she wants to be friends with and how difficult physics assignments are. Esteban mentions about the trainings and the different race drivers that he met on track.

Esteban knows that he might probably regret staying up late but everything always seems worth it when it comes to Y/N.

"Well its really nice catching up to you but school starts at 7 tomorrow"Y/N yawns a bit "You must be pretty tired as well with all the training"

"Don't you worry about me here, I'm doing okay"

"You are the best Estie" Y/N said "Goodnight estie, love you"

Love. That's the word that Esteban has been pondering about a lot lately. It was that stage of life that people are getting girlfriends and boyfriends because they love that person. The only person that Esteban thinks he can love and be in a relationship with is Y/N.

First he thought, maybe its because Y/N's a close friends. Many people get the lines blurred between friendship and relationship. However, Esteban is beginning to realize that he likes Y/N more than a friend.

But, Esteban was scared of scaring her off or losing her so he settles with this.

"Good night Y/N, love you more"

01-01-2017

Dear Diary,

So Esteban and I went to our first party because Esteban finally had a permanent team for the upcoming 2017 season. We had a few drinks to celebrate and I met a boy. His name is Vincent. I think we hit it off pretty well.

-y/n

Esteban has this all night planned with him announcing that he is getting a permanent seat in Formula 1 to inviting her to the races to confessing his feelings and then hopefully get a New Year Eve's kiss.

However, here he is in the bathroom chickening out with his plans.

"C'mon Esteban, you can do this" he preps himself.

In his mind, he had everything written and prepared. He will start talking about the childhood how he was so glad to meet her and to her being the number 1 fan since day 1. Then he will move to his realizations and such when he was moving up to F1.

"Just say what you feel and be true. It's gonna work out"Esteban tells his reflection to the mirror.

With one spray of water to the face, Esteban exits the bathroom to find Y/N in the sea of crowd.

He searches for her and he was glad to see that she was still at the same place where he left her. However, his face scrunches up because there was another guy around her.

"Estieee!"Y/N calls out "I want you to meet Vincent, he is my new friend"

Esteban eyes the man because he didn't even look at him. Vincent's eyes were only looking at Y/N's and Esteban could feel his heart drop. He knows that look all too well because that is how he looks at her.

There goes his chance.

12-25-2017

Dear Diary,

This is my first christmas with Vincent as my boyfriend. Were still getting used with the presents thing and I think I overwhelmed him a bit. But I think that its going well, Mom loves Vincent. Dad and Esteban doesn't seem to think that Vincent is good for me.

-y/n

"Okay, time to open christmas presents!" Y/N excitedly announce.

Everyone gathers at the Christmas tree. It was a yearly tradition in the household that after lunch they go one-by-one in opening the gifts. Y/N always loved presents so she would always go first.

"Merry Christmas darling"Vincent says as he gives his present.

Esteban manages to keep his expression straight but he would have gagged if he could. He was filled with so much jealousy that he could have been in that position right now if he didn't chicken out.

Also, there was something so irritating and wrong about Vincent. He just don't have any proof about it. Mr. Y/L/N has a similar theory which he discussed with Esteban when they were in the garage earlier.

Y/N opens the box and she saw a gold chain with the letter V. It was a very beautiful necklace and it seems expensive as well. She musters up a smile as she thanks her boyfriend.

"This is beautiful Vincent" Y/N admires as she takes it off the box.

"I know."Vincent agrees "When I saw it in the store, I immediately thought of you"

The thoughts were sweet but Esteban couldn't help himself.

"Mate"Esteban calls "Y/N doesn't wear gold"

It was the truth that Y/N never wore any gold jewelry but since it was a gift, she was putting on a smile. Esteban knows that Y/N is just being appreciative to be respectful. Frankly, he was a bit pissed off that Vincent didn't even pay attention to that simple details of Y/N.

"Oh, I didn't know that"Vincent sheepishly grins "I didn't notice that, maybe I should take it b-"

"No, no. I'll wear it, its the thought that counts"Y/N settles.

"Next year, I'll get you a better gift" Vincent assures.

Mr. Y/L/N and Esteban could only share an eye roll, they really hope that they don't get to see Vincent next year around.

06-26-2018

Dear Diary,

Today is emotionally draining and I find it hard to sleep with a lots of thoughts in my head. It feels really different to see Estie in an F1 car. I simply can't believe it that he went to watching race cars to driving one. It sucks about whats about to happen but I am so proud of my bestfriend, mon ami Estie. I will always be proud of him no matter what.

-y/n

One of the worst things that could probably happen is to not finish a race but the feeling intensifies when it happened on your home race. Esteban wanted to kick himself for his misfortune. He didn't even get a lap in when Gasly collided him thus ending their races.

"Stupid" Esteban repeats the video all over again.

The door gently opens and Esteban would have shouted to leave him alone but Y/N peeked out of the door. It was like instant moment of peace for Esteban then its back to feeling like a failure because he suddenly remembered that everyone he loves have watched him DNF live.

"Estie, they told me you were here"Y/N greeted "You wanna talk?"

"I rather not" Esteban quickly answered.

"Hey, its just one bad weekend Estie"Y/N sits next to him.

"This is that one weekend that should have been a good weekend. Everyone is watching me and I didn't even start a lap before getting fucked"

The crack in Esteban's voice signifies that it was extremely heartbreaking for him to have this performance for his home race. Y/N could only tap his shoulder for comfort.

"Estie, you will have a lot of weekends ahead of you and you still have a lot more weekends that we will be watching. Don't be too hard on yourself" Y/N comforts "You can bounce back like you always do"

"You believe in me way too much"

"You already came a long way Estie. From sitting and watching them race every Sunday to actually driving a car. You should be proud of yourself" Y/N reminds.

There was something else painful in Esteban's heart. The recent issues regarding the team doesn't guarantee him for a seat in the coming year. It was another reason why he felt so down with what happened.

"Would you still be proud of me even if I don't have an F1 seat?" Esteban asked.

"What? What happened Estie?" Y/N was shocked.

"I might not have a team to drive for next year. I don't know if anyone is going to pick me with my DNFs and everything, I'm not a good candidate"

Esteban sheds the tears he has been trying to hide. He knew that this was a safe place to talk to Y/N. Everything just felt so heavy.

"Oh my god Estie, I'm sorry"Y/N consoles her bestfriend.

The two bestfriend knew how much this Formula 1 seat meant. It was a lot of struggles and sacrifice to reach this moment. One moment they were just kids going on karting season and now Esteban was getting his F1 seat. Now its being taken away, its like waking up from a good dream.

Y/N brushes away her tears and started to pace as if devising a plan.

"Don't you dare think that just because you are not getting a team next year is that you are a bad driver. You are a great driver okay,remember that." Y/N encourages "Take the year off. Improve your skills, get better then make a comeback"

If Y/N believes that he can make a comeback then Esteban believes that as well.

02-03-2019

Dear Diary,

I had a fight with Vincent. He told me that I am spending too much time with Esteban. He wanted me to stay away from Estie like who is he to tell me what to do.

I told him to be more patient with Estie because he really needs support right now. I hate how stupid and irrational Vincent is.

-y/n

Esteban was just picking up one of his cousin at the club when he saw a familiar figure at the alley. He just wanted to say hi to Vincent but when he noticed that he was holding hands with a girl, who is definitely not Y/N, Esteban started to follow.

He watched as how Vincent pulled the girl into a kiss and all Esteban could see was red.

"OHMYGOD, WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"The girl shouts.

Esteban lands a solid punch. He doesn't care if Vincent is drunk or whatever but he should never cheat especially on a woman as amazing as Y/N.

"I tried to give you a chance, you fucking ruined it"Esteban lands another punch at Vincent.

"What the fuck man, get off!"Vincent screams.

The fact that Esteban was willing to let go and watch Y/N be happy with Vincent. He was willing to do that because Vincent makes Y/N happy but seeing this. Its not gonna happen anymore.

Two bouncers of the club broke them off. The girl immediately tended to the beaten up Vincent, Esteban dust himself off as he sets out a threat.

"You better come clean and tell her the truth or else I fucking will" Esteban warns.

"FUCK YOU MAN" Vincent shouts back "I know you like her! I know you are just waiting for an opportunity to ruin us"

"I'm not the one who ruined the fucking relationship Vincent, it was you who fucking cheated on Y/N"

Esteban was seething as he returned to the car. His mind thumbs to call Y/N but he knows that it will break Y/N's heart terribly if he tells her the truth.

09-28-2019

Dear Diary,

I hate this feeling of being ina fight with Esteban. He said some things that aren't true and I said some things that must have hurt him a lot. I don't think we will be okay any time soon. I just wish I could have turned back time to talk about the whole thing more carefully.

-y/n

There are not many things that Esteban and Y/N disagrees with each other. It was quite rare to see them fight each other because they fit perfectly just like that. Usually, their fights are just simple misunderstandings and harmless that they will make up in a day or so.

This time its different.

Everything started when Y/N explained that she'll be moving to Vincent's apartment, something that triggered Esteban greatly. It was apparent that Y/N had no idea of what happened at the club so Esteban told the whole truth.

Y/N is in complete denial and called Esteban a liar. So here they are with their raised tones.

"If you are my fucking friend then you would have told me the minute you saw it" Y/N explained "Why didn't you fucking call"

"I was protecting you. I know it would hurt you to know the truth and I told Vincent that he has to be the one to come clean" Esteban fights back.

"Protecting me with a grand lie?"

"I thought you don't fucking believe me that Vincent is cheating" Esteban frustrated with the argument.

"I don't know who to fucking believe because you would have told me right away if its real" Y/N cried.

The emotions were all too high, they were a ticking time bomb ready to explode. Esteban could not hide the disappointment in his face that Y/N didn't believe him.

"You don't trust me" Esteban realized.

"No Esteban, its not like-"

"Then what is it like?" Esteban asked "It seems as if you totally forgot that it was me who you could always trust no matter what. You forgot that I was your bestfriend since the beginning that was always there."

Y/N didn't want to get all the blame so she strikes back again even though tears were threatening to fall.

"You know its very fucking ironic that you say that" Y/N's words were like bullets "You didn't fucking trust me to believe you either that's why you didn't call"

Esteban was speechless and then he shakes his head.

"Where are you going?"Y/N chases after.

"I'm going home, away from you"

"Fine. Don't fucking come back" Y/N slams the door.

There were a lot of things said and done. They both don't know how they regretted everything.

03-29-2020

Dear Diary,

This whole lockdown is a little bit fucked. I was cleaning up some files in my computer and I saw a photo of me and Estie. I wonder if he is still mad at me and I wonder how he is doing with lockdowns. I wanted to reach out to him but I can't help but think back how much I must have hurt him before.

Vincent is a bit stressed with the whole lockdown situation. He gets frustrated easily especially with the new work set-up. I'm sure he will get better at handling his emotions, I just have to understand this for the moment.

-y/n

Esteban was scrolling through his instagram feed. He had nothing much to do since the lockdown kept everyone inside their homes. There was this feeling of uncertainty when can they race again but Esteban could only hope that they can race again even by May or June.

His hands stopped when he saw the newest instagram post of Y/N. It was a photo of her cooking a dish and the next set of photos showcases more of her lockdown diaries.

There was a bitter smile gracing on Esteban's face when he saw the photo of Vincent. It seems as if Vincent hasn't told the truth yet or maybe he lied to Y/N that's why they are still together. Esteban feels like he could punch the guy if he ever sees him again.

Not a day goes by that he regrets that fight he had with Y/N. It was just utterly pointless that it happened and he misses her. He hopes that she is okay and maybe after this whole lockdown is over then he'll go and find her again.

With heavy sighs, he scrolls past the post without liking it.

08-01-2021

Dear Diary,

Esteban is a grand prix winner. I'm really so proud of him, I shed some tears when he reach the final lap. I don't know if its the emotions or the adrenaline but I also messaged him and I was surprised that he answered. It seems like this is a start of a good thing.

-y/n

There were no words to describe how amazing the feeling was to be on top of the podium. Esteban could only imagine that feeling before but now he is living it. Everything felt like a wild dream because when he started the race he didn't even know that he will end up being a race winner after.

Collapsing to his bed, he finally opens his phone and it was immediately buzzing with so many messages. There was one message conversation that catches his attention

Y/N: Hi Esteban! I hope this is still your number. I watched the race today and I'm really so proud of you. I want to waive a white flag because this is everything that you have dreamed of all these years. There are no words to describe how proud I am of you. You have come a long way from that kid by the swing set. You will always have my support (even if we have a cold war). Y/N: I'm also sorry. I said some things that was really not good for me to say. I'm sorry I'm doing this over a text and I'm sorry that it took me this long. Y/N: I hope you are okay. You better drink up some champagne, you deserve it Grand Prix Winner.

There was this warmth that seems to envelope him as he reads the messages. It feels nice to know that she stills supports him even though they are not talking.

Esteban catches himself smiling through his phone screen confirming that his feelings for her still exist.

"Oh fuck it, this feeling never goes away doesn't it"

01-02-2022

Dear Diary,

Vincent proposed to me today in front of a crowd today. Mentally I wanted to say no because I don't think that I am ready for it or maybe its just the fact that I'm not sure that Vincent is ready for it. I just said yes because there was a large group of people. I felt like I was put on the spot and I didn't like it.

Maybe, its just the nerves.

-y/n

Mrs. Ocon had been keeping tabs with Mrs. Y/L/N even when the two had stopped talking to each other. They often update with each others lives when they get their nails done. Today, Mrs. Ocon couldn't believe the news shared to her so she hurried downstairs to find Esteban.

"Is it true Esteban?" Mrs. Ocon asked

"What's true maman?"

Esteban has just finished doing simulations so he have not been with his phone for quite some time. His mother immediately shoved her phone to his hand. Esteban squints as she watched the video of someone getting proposed at the Eiffel Tower.

"Maman, I'm not getting married anytime soon"Esteban jokes.

He has been pestered multiple times about getting married or getting a girlfriend but Esteban didn't want any of those. Nothing could compare to Y/N so he would rather not date anyone else.

"Just look more closely"Mrs Ocon insisted.

Scrunching up his nose, Esteban finally noticed the familiar faces of the couple. And it feels like a deja vu from his experience so many years ago when he almost confessed for New Years Eve.

Only this time, the pain has been magnified.

"That's good for Y/N, I'm.."Esteban holds his breath "happy for her"

"Honey...It's okay to not feel happy.."

Mrs Ocon has been one of the witness of everything and she knows how much her son loves Y/N. She extended a hug and soon the tall French man just let all his tears fall.

01-09-2023

Dear Diary,

I called it off, Vincent cheated on me and there was another girl on the side. He got her pregnant. I felt so stupid because I have been ignoring so many red flags all these years, I should have known better. I don't know what to fucking do, I hate him so much.

"What the fuck is wrong with me"

Y/N was a mess and anyone else who have been confronted with the reality that they have been in a fucked up relationship for so long will be a complete mess.

"There is nothing wrong with you Y/N" Esteban repeated "It was not your fault that he cheated"

"I was so stupid Estie, I wasted so many years for him"

This has been an ongoing process for a while now. Its been a good two weeks since they broke up but Y/N was still stuck in a period of asking questions and crying.

"I want my fucking life back and I can't get it back"Y/N laments.

Esteban doesn't know what he could do to help but he just became the shoulder that she can lean on. It was a good thing that there weren't much to do yet, he can still be with Y/N for a while.

"You know on the brighter side of life, you are still lucky that you didn't marry him" Esteban suggested "Like imagine all the divorce and process you have to go through if you did marry him"

"I might have ugly children if I married Vincent" Y/N scoffs.

"He is not your problem anymore Y/N, just ignore him"Esteban encourages.

Y/N lets out a frustrated cry as she messes up her hair again.

"I can't just fucking ignore him. He have been with me for a good period of my life and people just expect me to move on and go on with my life. I lost so many things about myself that I don't even trust myself after him"

Tears started falling from her eyes. She wipes them up as Esteban guided her to a chair.

"I'm sorry Y/N, here lets take a seat and I'll get you water" Esteban said before leaving to go to the kitchen.

There was something so nice to have Esteban around. Even if she shouts or screams like that, Esteban is still patient and kind with her. He was not rushing her to move past what she feels, he allows her to speak.

"You know, I can survive on my own" Y/N mutters.

"I know"Esteban agrees as he handed her the water "But I wanted to be here for you. You have always been there for me when I'm at my lowest of lows, I wanna be there for you now"

It was rare to see Y/N's smiles nowadays but with Esteban saying stuffs like that, she can't help but smile. She was very grateful to have Esteban around. She didn't know how she could survive without Esteban's help.

"Thanks estie

02-18-2023

Dear Diary,

Is it too soon to open up my heart again? I really want to try but I am scared. Maybe this is what happens when you've been in a shitty relationship for so long.

I also know that I dont wanna mess up things. If I do mess up things, I'm not going to just miss someone but I'll miss that boy I met at the swingset.

Maybe this year can do me good.

-y/n

"Esteban for a driver, you are pretty slow driving normal cars"Y/N teased.

"I have to be careful, accidents always happen and I don't wanna injure you before a flight" Esteban argues.

Esteban unloads all their bags. The two of them are going abroad however they are going to different countries. Y/N is going back to her old American home and she might be there for a while. On the other hand, Esteban is going to Bahrain for the pre-testing.

"You sure you have everything?" Esteban asked "Passports? Tickets? chargers?"

"Hey Mr. I forgot my passport, dont lecture me about forgetting things"Y/N smirked.

"Just double check and don't be like me then"

For onlookers they look like a couple about to travel together. How Esteban wishes that was the case but they are just a couple of bestfriends.

"Gonna miss you mon ami"Y/N hugs Esteban "I think I see my gate over there, call me okay"

"Of course I will"Esteban assures.

Y/N was already walking a decent few meters away when Esteban started to debate if he should tell her now. It seems spontaneous but this is a now or never situation.

"Wait up Y/N!"

"Did you forget something?"she teased

She turned her head and found Esteban catching up to her. There were beads of sweat on his forehead and Y/N could tell that Esteban was a bit nervous about something.

"Actually there is something I wanna tell you" Esteban starts.

"Oh what about it?"

She tilts her head in curiosity as Esteban takes in a large deep breath.

"I never forgot my passport. I was just using it as an excuse so I can spend more time with you. I didn't wanna go away from you because I miss you and I love you"Esteban declares.

"Aww Estie, you know I love you too-"

"No, Y/N its not that kind of love"Esteban clarifies "I love you as in I love you in a non-platonic way. I love you in a way that I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I love you in a way that I'll do everything so that I'm always coming home to you"

There was silence between the two of them. Esteban was looking for any signs of disgust or rejection in Y/N's eyes but so far those emotions doesn't seem to appear. He feels brave enough to continue further.

"Look, I'm not asking you to be my girlfriend. I know you need time to heal from whatever happened to you. I won't rush you. I have waited since were little kids, this is nothing compared to that. Allow yourself to heal and be yourself. Explore the world. Then if you want me, I'm just here waiting for you"

Esteban's word was filled with so much love and adoration. It was the respect that Y/N needed for having suffer a bad relationship. How could she be so blind not to see what's in front of her all along.

Y/N leans to hug him.

"I won't answer this for now, wait for me to be healed okay?"she whispers.

"Of course Y/N, always waiting for you."

05-01-2024

Dear Diary,

Almost a year and so since my last entry.

I have visited a lot of places to find myself and to heal myself. It was a beautiful journey going to foreign places and trying new things. Actually gave me a new perspective in life that makes me confidently say that I am healed. Some things take a lot of time before we tend to appreciate it.

I have someone waiting for me for almost 22 years already. I'm finally going home to him.

-y/n

[sannirio]

I DO

wc: 611

fluff, no cw. if there is please let me know.

A/N: im so sorry for being gone for so long. work and my mental health has been just yikes but i promise ill be back too writing!

i hope you guys enjoy!

there will be a part 2 i just wanted to give yall sm to read in the meantime <3

everything was perfect, he thought. san was standing at the altar, nervously. today was your wedding day, finally it had arrived. there was a crowd of people all sitting in classic neat rows, the gorgeous french inspired château off in the distance, the stained glass just barely visible from where san stood. all 7 of his band mates were off to his left. hongjoong, mingi, seonghwa, yeosang, jongho, yunho and wooyoung were standing, arms behind their backs. matching black tuxedos had been supplied to them all, making the guys all look super composed which rarely happened. seonghwa’s small black sunglasses made him stand out but what could he do? san chuckled at the sight of those dumb glasses.

the aisle ahead of him was a bed of soft white marble, lined with stones and moss. those were to represent the mountains in which he was named after. nestled in between the rocks, like little elf lanterns sprouted tiny snowdrop flowers. he had chosen these specifically because not only was it your favorite flower, but they reminded him of his future partner. delicate, graceful, fragile, yet so elegant. the altar was just as extravagant. wisteria had been draped like a blanket over a thin steel frame, mixing with branches to conceal the industrial structure. poking out in a loosely scattered formation, korean roses dotted the structure giving symbolic colour to the basic toned lattice behind him. on either side of the altar were these gorgeous flower bushes that had hidden lights in them. the effect was almost ocean-like. as if there were glofish dancing around in the dark. making these bushes look like rain clouds, water drops were pouring out from different parts, almost creating flower fountains. the scenery was gorgeous. the sound of a violin tore san from his trance, it was time.

it was hard to see through the wight veil that curtained your face. the sweet pull of a violin flowing from the quartet graced your ears.

“wise men say… only fools rush in”

goeuns voice was ethereal. you were so happy your best friend said yes to singing at your wedding, she knew how much it meant to you. your first bridesmaid took her first step down the aisle. one after another your closest friends made their way to the altar, their grace and poise reminded you of how you visioned your happiest day to be. the soft tug on your arm pulled you out of your daydream. your father was now standing beside you, his arm linked with yours. he gave you a smile, tears forming in the corners of his eyes. he was very obviously trying to hold in his feelings, for at least the time being with little to no avail. your father was so proud of you. before the two of you started your walk down the aisle your eyes meet your mothers. she's in the front row, handkerchief in hand, the same look your father has adorned her face as well. she was dressed in lovely soft lilac accented hanbok, similar to san’s mom who wore green.

you took your first step, your father matching your stride. you could feel butterflies dancing around in your stomach. the last time you felt this nervous was when you had first met san. it was an amazing feeling, like young love all over again, or the honeymoon phase. you took another step, and what felt like the blink of an eye you were standing at the altar, san across from you. was he crying? how sweet. he couldn’t hold in his emotions, the happiness, the joy, the love, it was overwhelming. “this is perfect he thought.”

[kythed]

“pillow talk” - a collection of conversations between you and matsukawa issei.

1. october 23rd, 1:03am.

“that was fun.” matsukawa props himself up on one elbow, lower half still covered by a disarray of blue dorm sheets.

you’re sitting on the edge of the bed, pulling your t-shirt back on, but you turn to look at him, smiling slightly. “fun?” 

“great. excellent. out of this world amazing,” he says teasingly. there’s a glint in his eye and a flush in his cheeks. 

“that’s what I thought.” you make to stand up, but matsukawa grabs your wrist before you can move another muscle. 

“you can stay,” he says, face strangely hopeful and childlike (a sharp contrast to the night’s earlier… activities). “if you want, I mean.” 

your body aches to climb back under the covers with him, to press yourself against his hot skin and let yourself fall asleep in his embrace… but what you have with matsukawa is new and fragile, and you refuse to close your fist on something delicate and shatter it in the process. 

“maybe next time. I have class in the morning.” advanced calculus, to be specific. hell on earth, to be even more specific. 

“will there be a next time?” there it is again. that hope. 

“if you’ll have me,” you say, rising from the mattress.

“I’ll do more than have you.” he grins, cocking his head. “I’ll take you.” 

and there it is — matsukawa issei, ladies and gents. you smile to yourself as you slip out of his room, committing the feel of his hands gripping your hips and his lips on yours to memory. 

2. october 27th, 4:36pm. 

you stay this time. it’s a weeknight, and there’s class in the morning again, but the bed is warm and matsukawa’s arm fits like it was made for you. he’s nervous, you can tell, what with the way his fingers shake slightly as they brush the hair from your eyes — but that’s okay. it’s endearing. cute, even. 

“hey,” he says, voice low and throaty. 

“hi,” you respond, turning your face to look at him, his sharp, angular face shaded even more dramatic by moonlight. he really is a little too pretty for his own good, you decide, running a light hand down his torso. his mouth twitches when your fingers skim over his waistband and back up again. 

“tease,” he sighs, and you laugh. 

“it’s what I’m best at,” you say. 

“among other things,” matsukawa concedes, grinning. you gasp and hit him lightly on the chest.

“you’re so dirty minded!” you scold, and he scoffs. 

“I’m the dirty minded one? listen sweetheart, twenty minutes ago you were —” 

you shut him up with a swift kiss on the lips, swallowing his indignant words as he chuckles somewhere in the back of his throat and pulls you on top of him. you slide your fingers into his mess of dark hair and smile into the kiss until he finally breaks away and begins dusting smaller kisses along your jaw and collarbone. 

“you know,” you breathe, trying to avoid gasping when matsukawa presses his mouth to that soft spot right below your neck, “you’re acting awfully boyfriend today, issei. you’d better be careful before I up and decide to make you mine.”

“maybe that’s what I want you do to,” he says without looking at you. 

you start in surprise, a small smile creeping onto your lips. “oh, really?” 

matsukawa unattaches himself from your neck and takes your face in his hands, staring up at you with a grin. “really.” 

“okay,” you say, and in response he squishes your cheeks and laughs. you roll your eyes and tug on his wrists until he lets go. “okay, boyfriend.”

“okay, girlfriend.” 

you’d never anticipated a relationship to fall into place so easily. but then again, with matsukawa, everything — everything from his sweet talk to his skin to his stupid pickup lines — is pretty damn smooth.

3. january 1st, 11:24pm.

“you have a nice nose,” he says, running a finger down its bridge. golden afternoon light slices through the gaps in his shutters, casting odd stripes across his face.

“I hate my nose.” you bite back a sheepish smile. “it’s weird.”

“no, it’s cute,” he insists, and despite yourself, your heart swells. maybe it’s silly, maybe it’s shallow, but nothing really beats having someone refute your insecurities, however insignificant they may be. “I’m the one with a weird nose.”

you sit straight up, nearly knocking him back. “you do not have a weird nose. I love your nose!” 

“I love your face.” matsukawa gently pulls you back down, gathering you into his chest so he can rest his chin on your shoulder. 

“well, it is a pretty nice face,” you say, and he huffs.

“you were supposed to say you love my face, too,” he whines in a small voice. you almost giggle at the thought of this six foot two giant baby-talking to you.

“I thought that was self-explanatory,” you say. “I like everything about you.”

matsukawa shoots you a dramatic glare, furrowing his brows. “yesterday you said you didn’t like my t-shirt.”

“it was a rick and morty t-shirt! I was morally obligated to disparage your fashion taste in that moment,” you say piously. 

“so you don’t like everything about me,” matsukawa sighs, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye. “my girlfriend is a liar.” 

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you like rick and morty,” you correct yourself. 

“I like everything about you except for the fact that you don’t like rick and morty,” matsukawa shoots back, and you let out an ugly guffaw. 

“alright, then. agree to disagree?”

before answering, he leans forward to give you a brief kiss that you return, enjoying the faint taste of spearmint on his lips. “you’ll come around eventually.” 

“I really won’t.”

“you will.”

“I won’t.”

“you won’t.”

“I will,” you say, and then — “wait, no. damn it, issei, I can’t believe that worked on me.”

“gotcha!” 

4. march 20th, 3:16am. 

“dude,” matsukawa says. “we should go out for ramen.”

“did you just call me dude?” you raise an incredulous eyebrow. 

“sorry,” he says, sitting upright and pulling on a shirt. “I meant babe. can we get ramen?”

“it’s 3am,” you say, catching the shirt he tosses to you and putting it on. “is there any place nearby that’s still open at this hour?” 

matsukawa whisks you out of bed, bridal style, and spins you around, ignoring your protestations as you attempt to scold him between giggles. when he finally sets you down you’re dizzy, clinging to him for balance. “obviously you don’t understand the ramen business. when the craving hits, it hits, and these guys know that. that’s why there’s a 24 hour ramen-ya near every college campus in the country.” 

“then,” you say, blinking hard as the room comes back into focus. “I say we go eat.” 

“let zem eat ramen?” matsukawa says in a phony french accent. you want to roll your eyes but you can’t quite bring yourself to do so. he’s too damn charming about it. 

“let zem eat ramen,” you repeat, and he laughs, rumpling your hair before grabbing his keys off the bedside table. 

“you’re adorable.”

“I’m a legal adult,” you sigh. “why do you insist on calling me cute? I’m sexy.”

“you’re cute and sexy,” he agrees, opening the door for you. “the two are not mutually exclusive.” 

“fancy words.”

“I’m just trying to impress you,” he says with an obnoxious wink. 

5. april 4th, 1:58am. 

“do you think there’s life in space?” 

you’re lying side by side next to matsukawa, both staring up at his dorm room ceiling, where a handful of plastic stars glow in the dark. 

he snickers. “you mean, like, martians? little green men with antennae?”

“sure,” you say, ignoring his jab. “or maybe enormous space whales swimming somewhere deep in the cosmos. galactic empires of cyborgs and robot servants. train stations that take you from star to star.” 

“that reminds me,” he says. you feel him slip his fingers into your hand. “we should watch star wars together sometime.” 

“you avoided the question,” you complain, and he laughs. 

“sorry,” he says. “I’ve never given much thought to huge space whales or interplanetary train stations.”

“you’ve never wondered might be out there? never wanted to fly to the moon and see what there is to see?” the thought is alien (pun intended) to you. how could anyone look into the star speckled sky and see anything other than a mass of worlds waiting to be explored? 

“I don’t need to. kinda have everything I could ever want here on earth already.” matsukawa shrugs, flashing you a grin. “good friends. perfect girlfriend. a really excellent ramen shop down the street.” 

“and that’s all you need?”

“that’s all I need,” he agrees, and you stay silent, scooting closer to press yourself into matsukawa’s larger frame. maybe he has a point. you count over your blessings in your head: good friends, perfect boyfriend, a really excellent ramen shop down the street. even space whales can’t really compare, you decide, sneaking a glance at issei only to find he’s already looking down at you with a soft smile. 

and maybe that’s enough. maybe it’s enough to have someone who loves you and your flaws, someone who lets you borrow his dumb graphic tees and never lets you pay for your own dinner. maybe what you have here with matsukawa issei, feet on the ground and hands intertwined, is enough.

[fridayfirefly]

Warmth - Part One

Read Warmth on AO3

Masterlist

Written for Maribat March Day 3 - Warmth

Damian woke the moment she appeared in his bed, her warm presence instantly triggering his well-ingrained sense of danger. It took him only a half-second of looking at her to realize what had happened. Gently but firmly, Damian nudged her awake.

"You just Soulmate shifted," he informed her as soon as she blinked open her tired blue eyes.

"Okay," she mumbled, speaking with a distinct French accent, "I'm going back to bed."

Damian gave her an incredulous look. "You don't have any follow-up questions?"

"None that can't wait until morning." She rolled over, then immediately sat up. Damian was relieved that she had finally come to her senses until she took off the backpack and purse she had on. "It's super uncomfortable to sleep with a backpack on."

"You brought a backpack?"

"It was the night before my sixteenth birthday. I figured there was a 50-50 chance that I would Soulmate shift, so I decided I might as well pack the essentials."

"That's smart," Damian conceded.

The girl pulled Damian's blanket over her, stopping only when she saw who was sleeping on the pillow she was about to steal. “Is that your cat?”

“Yes, that’s Alfred the Cat.”

“He’s so pretty,” the girl cooed, offering her hand out to the black-and-white cat. Alfred gave her outstretched hand a tentative sniff before nuzzling his head up against her and leaping off of the pillow to settle in her arms.

The girl was asleep in just a moment, soft breathing mixing with the sound of Alfred the Cat’s rumbling purr. Damian was left awake to watch her, to try and puzzle out some clues to who she was based on the half-dozen sentences she spoke before falling asleep.

The most important piece of information Damian knew: she was his Soulmate. It was so easy, it was barely a deduction. On the night of their sixteenth birthday, the younger Soulmate of a Soulmate pair shifts into the bed of the older Soulmate. So long as the younger Soulmate continues sleeping in the same bed as the older Soulmate, they will remain together. However, as soon as the Soulmate pair sleeps apart, the younger is returned to their original bed. After that, the Soulmate pair has to physically travel to meet. The only explanation for what just happened (i.e. the girl's sudden appearance in Damian's bed) was that she was his Soulmate.

By the same logic, Damian also knew that today, August 9th, was the girl's sixteen birthday. That made her five months younger than himself. From her accent, Damian believed her to be Parisian.

Damian held off of making any more assumptions about her out of respect for his Soulmate. It wouldn't be fair to judge her before they properly met.

Checking the clock, Damian saw that it was midnight. Figuring that it would do him no good to stay up all night staring at her, Damian pulled a second blanket over himself and went to sleep.

-----

Damian woke up at eight in the morning, the girl still sleeping away beside him. Damian was confused, as the differences in time zone meant that if she were still in France, she would be sleeping at two in the afternoon. Figuring that she had gotten a full eight hours of sleep and that it would be a good idea to stop any potential jetlag in its tracks, Damian nudged her awake.

"Hmm, where am I?" She mumbled in tired French.

"You Soulmate shifted into my bed. You're in Gotham, New Jersey," responded Damian, in English, since he knew she could speak it.

That seemed to wake her up. "America?" she asked again, this time in English.

"Yes."

She blinked, wide-eyed, and shaken. "That isn't at all what I expected. Not that it's a bad thing, I just figured I would stay in Europe, at least. I'm from France - Paris, France. And I'm Marinette, by the way."

"I'm Damian. So I assume you just turned sixteen."

Damian didn't phrase it as a question, but Marinette nodded anyway and said, "Yes."

"Happy Birthday, then."

Marinette smiled nervously. "Thanks. I was very out of it last night, so I apologize if I came off as rude. I was just so nervous about shifting that I stayed up until five in the morning on a caffeine-high and then crashed so hard I think I went into a temporary coma."

"Do you do that a lot?"

"Only on the weekend," she joked. "On weekdays I try to keep it one espresso shot every six hours."

"You'll get along well with my brother, then. He's also a caffeine addict."

"So you have brothers, Damian my older Soulmate from Gotham."

"Five months older. Three brothers and two sisters, though I'm related to none of them by blood. One Father and one butler who doubles as a Grandfather figure. One cat, one dog, and one cow."

"Cow?"

"It's a long story. I'm vegetarian, the cow was on the way to the slaughterhouse, and I decided that I needed to intervene."

Marinette smiled at him like she couldn't believe that he was real. "So when do I get to meet the brothers and sisters."

Damian glanced over at the clock, reading 8:34. "Breakfast starts in twenty-six minutes. That should give you enough time to get ready."

Marinette's eyes lit up. "I have the perfect meeting-my-Soulmate's-family outfit in my backpack." She hopped off the bed and grabbed her backpack, taking it into his connecting bathroom. "I'll meet you in twenty."

Damian watched her shut the door behind her, trying to believe his luck. Marinette was clever, witty, and beautiful, with a smile that could light up a room. He had known that his Soulmate would be perfect for him, but it hadn't really hit him until he saw her up close. Marinette was perfect. Now, he thought as he pulled out his phone and got into the family groupchat, all he had to do was make sure his stupid brothers didn't ruin it.

@maribatmarch-2k21

[headheartbellarke]

DISTRACTED | Charlie Gillespie

Requested by anon: “5 times reader (girlfriend) is almost distracted by a shirtless Charlie and one time she actually is.” PAIRING(s): Charlie Gillespie x fem!reader WORDS: 1.6k WARNING(s): some charlie thirst, what’s new ;) SUMMARY: 4 times Y/N is almost distracted by her shirtless boyfriend and 1 time she actually is.

0.

You pride yourself over the fact that you never get distracted, no matter what. But sometimes, just sometimes, you can’t help it.

Especially when your boyfriend looks like that.

1.

You sigh, running a hand through your hair. Your eyes feel as if they are burning, and the ever-persistent headache of yours seems to be particularly intense today.

Yet, pushing all that tiredness away, you keep typing, typing, typing. The deadline for your essay that carries twenty per cent of your grade of your final year of college is tomorrow, and you’ve still got three hundred words to write.

Three hundred words does not seem like a lot on any other day, but after three cups of coffee and seven hours of staring at your laptop screen, it feels like death. The fact that you seem to be in a rut right now doesn’t help, either.

You scrounge around your brain, trying to pull ideas from each fold, but it’s useless. Maybe it’s the exhaustion, or maybe it’s because of your boyfriend, Charlie, who has currently resorted to painting your toenails after not getting any sort of attention from you for the past few hours.

Ever since lockdown started, you and your boyfriend have been living together in your shared apartment in Toronto. You two have been planning to move in together for a while, but his work and your college always seemed to be obstacles. But this lockdown gave you both the perfect opportunity – plus, it was time, too. You two have been dating for more than four years – although, you’ve had a crush on him for as long as you can remember, but the intensity of it was realized only in the moment when he kissed you after an amazing prom together – you guys went together because you were best friends and loved being around each other more than anything. But the fact that there could be something more, something hidden in years of friendship seemed unlikely to the both of you before that day.

“Done.” He says, proudly. Your eyes leave your screen to look at the beautiful emerald colour on your toenails. You smile at him, and say, “That’s gorgeous, Char. Where’d you find it?”

He shrugs, a lopsided smile on his face. “It was in the bottom of your bag.”

You nod. “Right. I bought it the day before my last offline exam ended. I forgot.”

He smiles. “Now, will you pay me some attention?”

You purse your lips and pretend to be thinking. “Hmm… tempting, but no. I still have to get this done.”

He groans, dramatically. “You have been ignoring me for past hundred hours!”

You chuckle, ruffling his hair. “You’re so dramatic. It’s only been half a day. Now, go away. I need to finish this.”

He groans, again, and you wonder if he’s finally given up.

Instead, he rolls off the bed, and stands taller, leaning against the doorframe. “Y/N?”

You hum in question, as he makes a show out of taking off his T-shirt.

You bite your lip and remember how long it has been since you’ve run your hands on his chest. But you know that he’s doing this on purpose, to get a fraction of your attention. He knows and is proud of the fact that he has a hold over you, and the fact that even after four years, he still gives you butterflies over the slightest of smiles.

So, instead of giving in, you crawl under your covers with your laptop and decide to work there, as you suddenly gain inspiration, and thank yourself for not being distracted by your boyfriend’s absolutely beautiful body.

“Oh, come on!”

2.

The second time hit happens, it’s a Tuesday morning, and you’re giving an exam. Your laptop is in front of you, the face of your teacher and classmates filling your screen, as the sound of your pen scratching against your answer sheet fills the room.  

You bite the end of your pen, pondering over a question when you suddenly hear your boyfriend’s voice. You look up, and notice him, shirtless, and talking on the phone to someone.

“Yeah, I mean, we could do that…” He says, and your eyes trail across his back, as he stares out the window on the wall opposite to you.

“No, Mom, we’re not gonna drive to Canada. I’m not that crazy!” He exclaims, and you arch your neck to get a better view of him, and the sweatpants hanging low on his hips.

“Sure, I can ask Y/N…” He says, and you quickly avert your eyes back to your paper, just in time to hear your teacher call out your name.

“Y/N? What are you looking at?” She asks, and you adjust your headphones, clearing your throat.

“I thought someone was at the door. Sorry, Ms. Harrington.” You’re painfully aware of the warmth spreading through your cheeks, and as she nods, you start writing again.

You hear Charlie whisper a ‘sorry’, and you smile at him – he thinks that the reason your teacher just called you out is because he was going to ask you something.

You don’t correct him – his ego doesn’t need to know the fact that you were almost distracted.

3.

Just one more question, you think. One more question, and you’re done with this semester.

But your mind is wandering, and the fact that you still have thirty minutes left doesn’t help. When this exam started, you thought that you wouldn’t be able to finish it in time and wrote as fast as you could, but now there’s plenty of time and just one, tiny answer left.

You rest your elbows on your desk and check on your classmates. Everyone is frantically scribbling, and you smile evilly at the fact that you’re not one of them right now.

“Honey? You have a minute?”

You hear Charlie from behind you. You nod, and say, “I’m listening.” You don’t turn back, since you have to keep an eye on your teacher. (She is knitting right now, for some reason.)

“You wanna go somewhere for the holidays?” He says, his raspy morning voice causing goosebumps to appear on your skin.

“I’m not sure… I mean we just came back from Maui last month – do you think it’s wise to go somewhere again?”

“Well, we’ll maintain social distancing, and use masks.”

“I’m not sure…”

“Come on, it’s our fifth anniversary!”

You finally look at him, and your breath catches in your throat. He’s shirtless, as usual. You mentally curse him as you think that you need to add ‘no being shirtless for no reason’ to your household rules. (Currently, you have three: one, no disturbing the other while working; two, following the chore chart; three, no spilling coffee or red wine on the white living room rug.) (The last one has occurred more times than one might expect.)

You focus on keeping your eyes trained on his, but you still struggle to form words. “I – not a wise idea…”

He grins, understanding the situation, as you avert your eyes back to your paper.

“Please, baby?”

You know he’s pouting.

“Fine.” You say, just to get him off your back.

“You’re the best!” He presses a kiss to your cheek and is instantly gone. As your mind still tries to hold on to the frayed strings of the warmth and the smell of his presence, you pray that your classmates didn’t notice the interaction.

4.

You smile at Charlie’s mother, who is talking animatedly on your phone.

“Then, I told Meg to get some sugar, but she bought salt instead, and to top that, she dumped the entire bowl into my batter! Now, it tastes like absolute shit!” She glares at Megan, Charlie’s sister, who smiles sheepishly from behind her.

You laugh. “Like brother, like sister.”

“You know it.” She says, her French accent thick.

“So, I was thinking… Maybe, after the holidays, we could fly back to Dieppe? It’s not like we’re gonna go to college any time soon, so –”

“Yes, please! I miss you guys so much. You know, last night –”

She starts to say something else, but your boyfriend is doing push ups in front of you, and it’s really, really, really hard to focus, especially when his body is glistening under the afternoon sun.

He seems to feel your gaze, and sharply turns towards you, while you quickly look back to his mother.

“–but the point is, I miss you two.” She finishes, while Megan nods. “Me too, sis. It’s so boring here without you two.”

You smile and can feel warmth in your stomach. “Of course. I miss you guys, too. Charlie’s so boring.”

“Hey!”

+1.

You exhale and close the lid of your laptop. “I’m done!” You yell, and Charlie instantly appears at the door, and runs towards the bed you’re currently seated on, and jumps atop.

“Finally! I missed you!” He says, wrapping an arm around your torso, pulling you closer.

“I missed you too, baby. But now I’m done with all my assignments, so I’m all yours for the next two weeks!” You sit on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.

He grins, and your eyes avert to his chest, but this time, you let yourself be distracted, because after weeks of sleep deprivation and pure torture, you deserve this.

You smile, connecting your lips, and run your hands on his chest. He smiles against the kiss, and you whisper, “I love you so much.”

“And I love you so much.”

as always feedback and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[khaleesiofalicante]

“Mom!” Alec hissed.

His mother didn’t turn back.

“Mooooom,” he called her again – and this time she turned back. “I want to go home."

“Alec, we just got here!” his mother said incredulously as they checked their coats into the coakroom.

The guy in the cloakroom gave Alec a token for their coats.

Jesus Fucking Christ. What kind of house has a cloakroom?

His mother was right. They had barely been here for 10 minutes. But Alec already wanted to leave.

“I’m feeling sick,” Alec said. “I should go back home.”

He coughed awkwardly. He was a decent liar.

“What’s wrong?” his mother looked momentarily concerned.

“Uh,” Alec said, not prepared at all. “I got my period.”

Yeah, so that ‘decent liar’ bit might have been an exaggeration.

“Alec,” his mother sighed. “You think I want to do this? This family is one of our largest donors to the university. As the dean, I have to be here. So do you.”

Alec groaned.

As the president of the queer alliance at Idris University, Alec knew he had to talk to people to get the funding they needed. But Alec hated people and he hated talking. He wished Lily or Maia were here instead.

“I know you have your own ways,” his mother said through her teeth as she smiled at one of the guests who was waving at her. “But you need their support. It’s how the game is played.”

“I hate playing the game,” Alec said through his teeth as he cheerily waved at one of the lecturers.

“You know the rules,” she turned to him and adjusted his bowtie. “Just smile and play nice.”

“But-”

“Be charming ,” she interrupted. “That's how fundraising works.”

Alec pouted and then gave her tight nod.

“Albert!” she shouted at one of the guests and made her way towards the old man.

Alec was about to let out a dramatic sigh when a waiter emerged from nowhere.

“Champagne, sir?”

“Thank you,” Alec picked up the flute. “Damn, this is heavy.”

“Crystal, sir,” the waiter pointed.

Alec’s hands suddenly felt very sweaty. He wiped them clumsily on his suit jacket and held the champagne flute carefully.

Another waiter emerged upon him, holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres.

“What’s that?” Alec pointed at the tray.

“Caviar, sir,” the waiter replied.

“Is that cinnamon?” Alec asked at the sprinkled dust on top of the caviar thingies.

If it was cinnamon, he could maybe eat it and have an instant allergic reaction.

Then maybe his mother would let him go home. He hoped.

“Not cinnamon, sir,” the waiter said as Alec took one and popped into his mouth. “It’s edible gold.”

“What?” Alec asked, his mouth full of caviar.

And gold apparently.

“It’s a caviar and crème fraîche tartlet,” the waiter announced in a surprisingly perfect French accent. “Topped with edible gold.”

“You are telling me this is gold?” Alec asked, chewing the food self-consciously. “I’m eating actual gold?”

“Uh, yes sir,” the waiter said awkwardly.

“But why?” Alec demanded, chewing his food angrily now. “Does it improve the taste?”

“No, sir,” the waiter looked embarrassed. “It’s…pretty.”

Alec looked around in disbelief as the waiter made his escape.

Here he was trying to find a couple of thousand dollars to raise funds for his alliance and these people were sprinkling gold on their food for aesthetic.

“Fuck the rich,” Alec muttered.

“Pardon?” someone said from behind him.

Ah, shit! Alec really hoped it was not one of the professors at the university – or worse, one of the donors.

But when he turned around, it was neither.

It was in fact the most beautiful man Alec had ever seen.

“Uh,” Alec said eloquently.

“You were saying something about fucking the rich,” the man smiled. “If it’s a cult, I’m very much interested.”

“Not a cult,” Alec clarified – when he managed to find his voice. Jesus! “Just a personal motto of mine.”

“Very interesting motto you have there…”

“Alec,” he finished. “Alexander.”

Why did he say his full name? He never did that. Alec could be such a weirdo in front of gorgeous men.

“Nice to meet you, Alexander,” the other man said, and Alec’s momentary regret vanished instantly.

He suddenly loved his name. Maybe a little too much.

“I’m Magnus,” the man held out a hand and Alec shook it – and hoped his palm wasn’t as sweaty as before. “Are you here to donate?”

“Pfft,” Alec couldn’t help but snort. “Right. Cause these people need more money.”

“Don’t roll your eyes at charity, Alexander,” Magnus chided. “It’s not very gentlemanly of you.”

“What’s this charity for anyway?” Alec asked, because he hadn’t even bothered to ask his mom and spent the whole drive here complaining about the university budget allocations instead.

“The rowing club,” Magnus replied.

“The rowing club?” Alec demanded angrily.

They were a bunch of elite dude bros and were the last people that needed charity.

“They are hoping to purchase new equipment,” Magnus pointed out.

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Alec complained. “They don’t even need a fundraiser. They can afford that shit in so many other ways. Like ask them sell one of their Rolexes or Lamborghinis. Charity is for people who don’t have alternatives.”

Magnus blinked and Alec realized he had lost his cool a little.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “It’s just…it isn’t fair.”

“The rowing club boys are right there,” Magnus whispered as he pointed at the buffet. “They might hear you and think you are jealous.”

“I’m not jealous,” Alec replied. “I’m outraged that we live in a society that prioritizes the needs of the marginalized over the wants of the privileged.”

Usually this was the point when the other person would give him an awkward smile and escaped immediately from Alec’s boring rants.

But Magnus didn’t look awkward or bored. In fact, his lips curved a little as he gestured Alec to one of the banquet tables.

“Tell me more,” Magnus said as he sat down.

Alec wasn’t really sure what to say. He wasn’t used to reaching this stage of the conversation.

“Fancy new rowing equipment is a want. They can live without their latest gadget and just make do with the equipment they have,” Alec elaborated. “But the safety of queer youth in our university is definitely a need. It’s not something they should have to compromise.”

“The safety of the queer youth?” Magnus frowned. “How are they at risk?”

“There has been increased reporting of cyber bullying by queer students at the university,” Alec sighed. “Our existing reporting mechanisms don’t work.”

“Well, they could complain to HR and-”

“Magnus, when has HR got anything done?” Alec asked.

Magnus frowned again.

“Our data shows that over 60% of the victims of cyber bullying at the university are not only queer, but also people of colour,” Alec elabored. “So, these attacks are racially motivated too.”

“Why isn’t the university doing anything about it?” Magnus demanded, now sounding angry too. “The dean-”

“She is doing the best she can,” Alec intervened – because he knew that to be true. “We have a zero tolerance policy and that works at campus. But on social media..Well, that’s a whole other thing, isn’t it? You can’t really control what other people say or do.”

Magnus frowned again.

Alec realized that he liked it better when the other man smiled. Maybe he was as boring and depressing as everyone said.

“So, what do we do?” Magnus asked.

“We?” Alec blinked.

“I’m a student at the university too,” Magnus said. “Well, I just transferred from London. But still. As a bisexual man and a person of color, I need to be a part of this.”

Alec was beyond happy that someone understood the importance of his cause. It was hard enough to find people who supported the alliance.

But instead of thanking Magnus for his support, Alec’s mouth said “You’re bisexual?”

“And part-Indonesian,” Magnus replied. “So, what do we do, Alexander?”

Alec blinked. “Well, uh, the alliance has been trying to create an app that provides counseling support for queer youth who face bullying online. We can’t really completely get rid of the bullying. That might never happen. But the least we can do is give support for the victims, right?”

Magnus smiled. And yeah, Alec definitely liked it better.

“That’s an excellent idea,” Magnus said.

“Well, it’s just an idea,” Alec shrugged. “We still need to find the funding.”

“Well, why haven’t you?” Magnus asked.

“Because the donors obviously have other priorities,” Alec rolled his eyes, gesturing at the party.

“Oh,” Magnus said.

“But I think if we steal a plate of those caviar thingies, we might be able to scrap off the gold dust and gather a few hundred dollars,” Alec joked.

But Magnus didn’t laugh. Instead he leaped off his chair, ran towards the stage and grabbed the mic.

First of all, why was there a stage? Second of all, what was Magnus doing?

Third of all, who was he? Was he performer for the fundraiser or something?

He did have a really nice voice, Alec noted to himself. Among other nice things.

“Excuse me, everyone!” Magnus called into the mic and everyone turned their attention to him. “I’m Magnus Bane. My father and I are absolutely thrilled to have you at our home this evening.”

Alec, who was sipping on his champagne, most certainly did not choke at that. This was…Magnus’ home?

He was the biggest donor to the university? Or his father was…But whatever.

Alec’s ‘fuck the rich’ motto seemed a little too ironic - maybe even appropriate - right now.

“As the captain of the rowing team,” Magnus said, and Alec did not choke again. “I’ve just heard word from my brothers that there has been a change of plans.”

The rowing club, still standing by the buffet and hogging all the food, looked very confused.

“The rowing club has officially decided to throw a car wash at the university,” Magnus announced and the crowd started whispering around.

“Dude, isn’t that what chicks do?” one of the dude bros laughed.

“Exactly, Chad!” Magnus yelled. “We will be raising money and dismantling the patriarchy at the same time. It’s a win-win!”

A loud cheer went through the room but some people still looked confused.

“But what about the fundraiser?” a woman who was wearing too many pearly necklaces asked. “Are we not making donations today?”

“Yes, we are Mrs. Morgenstern,” Magnus winked at her. “But all donations from today’s event will go the queer alliance of the Idris University. They are raising money to fund an app to provide psychosocial support to victims of cyber bullying.”

Alec noticed his mother turn to look at him in disbelief. Alec shrugged helplessly.

“Is it really necessary though?” an old man from one of the tables asked and Alec had half a mind to dump his champagne on the man’s head. “Can’t they just have one of those support groups where they sit in a circle and talk to each other?”

“They are victims of targeted harassment, Mr. Starkweather,” Magnus replied politely. “They need support that is consistent, reliable and professional. It seems rather unfair to ask victims to support themselves instead of providing them with the required resources.”

“But aren’t they asking for too much?” a blonde woman asked.

“The app will ensure their safety and mental health. They are asking for the bare minimum,” Magnus answered, and Alec noticed the flash of anger in his eyes.

“But if the problem is cyber bullying,” another man in a suit demanded. “Why can’t we just ask them to stay off the internet?”

“Because that would be homophobic,” Magnus said through gritted teeth - but still smiling. Alec knew that look. “The queer students are not the problem. The internet is not at fault either. It’s people and their privilege. It’s people and their inability to treat others with respect – online and offline. These are students. We can’t restrict their access to the internet. For many queer youth, the internet is the only place that is safe enough to express themselves without fear or judgment. So, instead of asking them to stay off the internet, maybe we should consider asking the bullies and homophobes to practice basic human decency.”

“Damn, son!” someone whistled impressively.

Alec knew that whistle. He was going to hug the hell out of his mother later.

There was a moment of silence in the room, then a man approached the stage and pulled Magnus into a hug.

“What an excellent idea, Magnus!” the man who looked very much like Magnus beamed.

“It’s not my idea,” Magnus said. “All the credit goes to the alliance.”

“Well, I can’t wait to meet this alliance!” Mr. Bane nodded in approval. “Ladies and Gentlemen! What a fine cause! What an important change in action! Allow me to be the first to support these brave and inspiring group of young people.”

“Thank you, Bapa!” Magnus smiled sweetly. “It’s so wonderful to see you supporting this cause. This is going to go viral on the internet.”

The moment Magnus said the words viral and internet, multiple guests got off their seats and started heading towards the donations table.

“He knows how to play the game,” Alec's mother said as she walked up to him. “He would make a fine addition to your alliance, Alec. You should ask him to join.”

“I will. He is bisexual,” Alec replied.

“He is also very handsome,” his mother pointed out innocently.

“Don't even!” Alec pointed a finger at her as she chuckled and joined the crowd.

By the end of the night, the fundraiser had gatherd thrice the amount the alliance needed to create the app.

“So…” he said as he approached Magnus. “I wanted to say thank you.”

“I was wondering maybe you could say it on Saturday,” Magnus suggested.

“Saturday?” Alec raised an eyebrow.

“The car wash, Alexander!” Magnus pouted. “I was here for your fundraiser. It’s only fair that you come for mine.”

“Well, that depends,” Alec said. “Will you be wearing a bikini?”

“Nah,” Magnus chuckled. “I was hoping to go shirtless.”

“In that case, you’ll definitely see me there,” Alec said seriously.

He didn’t even have a car. But he could always egg Jace’s car and take it.

“You want to get out of here?” Magnus asked, pointing at the crowd.

“Uh, isn’t this like your party or something?” Alec asked. “Shouldn’t you be here to entertain the guests?”

Magnus looked around and shrugged. “Fuck the rich.”

Alec couldn’t help but grin at that. He took Magnus’ hand as they ran towards the garden.

Fuck the rich indeed.

- For @radisv​ for being amazing. Always. Happy Birthday. ILY!

[lumosinlove]

It’s the Olympic break and the boys are taking a little vacation. Leo gets a spicy present in the morning, and then it’s Finn’s planned Leo-day around NYC, plus a promise from Logan.

Happy 20th birthday, Knutty!

Leo was sure that he always had some sort of checklist running in his head. He liked waking up and going through the day before it happened.

Leo woke up in Finn’s childhood bedroom on his twentieth birthday. There was the smell of coffee coming from just down the hall, and New York City was getting a fine dusting of snow outside. Most of the time, Leo was the first one awake—not to mention a few times in the middle of the night. He liked laying there with his eyes closed and listening to Finn and Logan breathing. Finn had rolled away in the night, but Logan was plastered against his side, breath warm against his neck.

“You’re awake?” Leo whispered softly to him.

“Because you’re awake,” Logan replied, accent heavy with sleep.

That was another thing. Logan seemed to have a sense for Leo’s irregular sleeping habits.

“How’d you know?”

Logan pressed a gentle kiss to Leo’s neck. “How’d you know?”

That made Leo smile a little. “Your breathing.”

“Mhm,” Logan said, and hooked his thigh higher across Leo’s hips. Leo reached down to drum his fingers lightly over the muscle.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan murmured the phrase into a kiss against Leo’s mouth this time.

“Thanks,” Leo smiled.

Finn made a noise in his sleep, and Leo felt them both turn to look at his bare back, but he didn’t stir any more.

Logan sighed, pressing closer to Leo’s chest.

“Where should we go for breakfast?” Leo whispered. “I was doing some research.”

Logan’s laugh was his soft morning one. “Of course you were.”

“I’m just thinking,” Leo said. “Hey, did you see the snow outside?”

Logan’s palm had started trailing warmly down his chest about half way through Leo’s thought process, and it was resting low on his stomach now.

“Oh?” Leo asked softly, his previous next words dying in his throat at Logan’s touch.

“Settle down, Peanut,” Logan whispered into the skin. “It’s your birthday.”

Then, he was disappearing beneath the blankets.

“Lo,” Leo let his eyes slip closed, a soft smile on his face.

Logan began to kiss his thighs first, tugging Leo’s underwear off and away. Leo bent his knees to help, trying not to kick Logan where he couldn’t see. Logan just used it as an opportunity to wrap his arms around them, pulling them close around his shoulders. Leo could feel the soft tickle of his hair as Logan’s mouth trailed along. He could feel himself filling quickly and settled into it, head dropping back on the pillows. He couldn’t see Logan, and so each touch was a surprise. It amplified the feeling, the sudden jolt of Logan’s lips brushing the head of his dick, just beginning to peak out of his foreskin.

Leo could hear his own breathing getting louder, too, and looked up to make sure the door was closed. Finn’s family was out there. He reached beneath the blankets to tangle his fingers into Logan’s hair, running a thumb along his temple. He heard Logan hum at the contact, and then felt his hot tongue dip around the tip of his dick, gathering the wetness dewing there. Leo pressed his calves into Logan’s sides.

The checklist was going askew. There was just Logan, and Finn’s stirring weight beside them. Seeming to have sensed their motion, Finn turned onto his back, cracking an eye open to glance at the blankets tented by Leo’s knees, and the absence of Logan from the other pillow.

“Huh,” Finn said as he squeezed his eyes shut and stretched his entire body. Leo laughed breathlessly when he heard a few loud pops in his back. Finn blinked his eyes open when he was done and smiled, rolling onto his side towards Leo. “Nice.”

Leo just parted his lips a little for Finn’s gentle kiss.

“Happy Birthday, baby,” Finn said softly into Leo’s mouth.

“Very,” Leo sighed. “Very happy.”

“Morning, Tremblay,” Finn said, peaking beneath the blankets and laughing as he reached to run a hand through Logan’s hair. “Hi.”

Logan just kissed Finn’s palm before returning his attention to Leo.

Finn drew the blankets back, hand still in Logan’s hair, and leaned in to kiss Leo again. “I have so many plans for us today. I’m gonna take you to the best spots, you’re going to love it so much. A Knutty-curated day.”

Leo looked down to see Logan mouthing at his hip bone. “This seems like a good start, then.”

Logan’s mouth became a warm heat around him as Finn kissed him leisurely. Finn’s hand cupped where Logan couldn’t reach. Leo loved this. The weight of sleep still lingering, making everything sharper. Finn kept saying soft I love yous, which Logan echoed in low hums that made him twitch. They brought him off slow and easy, Finn kisses growing more sloppy, the way he knew Leo liked, as he arched into Logan’s mouth.

Leo smiled, breathing hard as Finn bit gently at his bottom lip.

Logan pushed his way up his chest, pressing a kiss just above his collar bone. His hair was a mess from sleeping and the static and heat that being beneath the blankets brought. His cheeks were flushed and he was hard in his underwear, like Finn.

“Happy Birthday,” Logan laughed, and kissed Leo’s cheek.

“Well, yeah,” Leo wrapped his arms around Logan’s waist. “Fuck, Lo.”

Finn ran his hand through Leo’s hair and cocked an eyebrow in question. “Anything you want.”

Leo stretched, sleepy again and sated beneath Logan’s weight. “Just let me see you two. But don’t go too far away,” He pulled them closer towards each of his sides.

Logan hummed and tucked his face up against Leo’s neck as he pushed his underwear down below his balls and took himself in hand.

Finn nudged his nose against Leo’s cheek, following Logan’s lead and pressing up all along Leo’s other side. Leo pushed Finn’s underwear aside so he could press his cock against the soft skin of Leo’s hip, Leo’s other hand combing through Logan’s hair. He smiled, eyes hooded as Logan panted into his neck. They were hot against him, their thighs brushing together, hooked across Leo’s hips.

“Love you,” Leo said, and was answered by a kiss to his neck and a nip to his jaw.

Logan spilled first, and Finn followed, tensing and his breath stuttering like it always did. Logan buried his noises in Leo’s skin.

“Fuck,” Leo breathed as he watched the white paint his skin.

Finn moaned lowly and pressed a burst off kisses to Leo’s cheek, making him smile.

“Leo,” Logan said, but it sounded like he was just sighing his name. He pushed himself up on one elbow and looked down at Leo and Finn, pushing his hair out of his eyes. “Well, good morning.”

Finn threw the tissue he had used to clean them up in the direction of the garbage and laughed. “I have so much planned for today.”

Logan huffed back onto Leo’s chest. “Can we have coffee first?”

“Oh,” Finn said. “Can we ever,” and then threw himself on top of Logan, Leo laughing beneath their weight.

“You boys gonna watch USA against Canada today at three?” Haley O’Hara asked as she sipped her coffee and watched them put their coats on. “Pretty good game to have on your birthday.”

“We can’t miss Alex,” Leo said. “And Kasey, with their Olympics debuts.”

“But we have plans first,” Finn said. “We’re going to my favorite place. Which will be Leo’s favorite place.”

“Ah,” Haley smiled. “I know where that is. Have fun, Leo.”

Leo smiled. “I’m sure I will.”

“Where are we going for breakfast?” Logan asked.

“You’ll see, you’ll see,” Finn said, pulling Logan’s hat down over his eyes. “Man, you without your coffee…”

Leo laughed. “Yeah, Harz, and I thought you were bad.” He righted Logan’s hat for him, and kissed him softly.

Haley was smiling at him when he looked up. “You boys have fun. And Happy Birthday again, Leo.”

New York was cold, but Leo didn’t mind. They huddled together as they walked, Logan jokingly running every once in a while as if to keep up with Leo. Finn took them to a bakery with tall, heavy doors, but hustled them to a table without letting them look at what was offered too much.

Logan leaned back in his chair and hooked his ankles around Leo’s beneath the table while they waited.

“You’re—très beau.”

Leo rolled his eyes but smiled, leaning his chin in his hand and looking at the way Logan’s white beanie made his eyes brighter. If anyone was beautiful…

Logan mirrored his position, smile teasing. “Maybe I’ll take you to Nice this summer. No one knows us there. I’ll give you the best wine, and we can swim in the sea, and I’ll watch you read your books with our feet in the sand.”

Leo tilted his head, listening and loving.

Logan smiled, like he could tell. “And we’ll walk through all the markets…”

Leo nodded. “I want that. But not because it’s my birthday. Just because I want to be there with you.”

Logan was perfect in the snow, but Leo was dying to see him in a small, French village.

“Love you,” Logan said softly.

“Love you, sweetheart. Do you know what he’s up to?” Leo flit his eyes to Finn, who looked like he was charming the socks off of the girl and boy working the register. Something smelled incredible, like chocolate and bread.

“Not a clue,” Logan said, then laughed. “He hasn’t trusted me with secret plans since I told you I loved you first.”

Leo snorted. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

“I do know this place, though,” Logan smiled. “And I think I can guess what he’s bringing you.”

“Oh?”

“It’s as sweet-tooth as Harz gets.”

“Here we go,” Finn said, announcing himself. He was carrying a tray with three steaming cups on it, and three frankly giant croissants. “Okay, okay, now listen up, Lovernut.”

Leo put his arm along the back of their booth, behind Finn as he sat down. It was a gesture he’d learned quickly that he could do, even in a crowded place. “I’m listening.”

“This, darling—”

“You're so dramatic,” Logan shook his head.

“—is a pretzel croissant.”

Leo tilted his head. “What makes it pretzel?”

“Now,” Finn placed it carefully in front of Leo. “Get any visions of those big vendor pretzels out of your head. This is like—God compared to those.”

Leo and Logan glanced at each other, hiding smiles. It was as if they could just trade the one, single thought they were both thinking. We love him.

“Uh-huh, Harz,” Leo laughed. “And is that hot chocolate?”

“This is the thickest chocolate you’re ever going to have, and floating inside,” Finn slid the large cup beside the croissant. “You will find the worlds largest homemade marshmallow.”

“Why does it sound like you’re selling a car?” Logan laughed.

“It needs a speech,” Finn smiled. His cheeks were still red from the cold. “All right, most important part.”

It did smell amazing. “Yeah?”

Finn took his own croissant. “Rip,” he ripped it, “dip,” he dipped the croissant into the hot chocolate. “And…nothing rhymes, I don’t know, but it’s so good.”

Leo let his hand brush Finn’s neck as he retrieved it to take his own croissant in hand. “Lo? Is it?”

Logan, who had already torn a big piece and soaked in in chocolate, shrugged, then smiled. “Could be sweeter.”

They walked just a few blocks until Leo laughed when he recognized a large, red awning from one of Finn’s many sweatshirts.

“The Strand,” Leo smiled. “You’re always talking about this place. Aw, Harz.”

“You fucking bet I am,” Finn said. “Come on.”

They walked through the shelves slowly, starting downstairs in the fiction and history sections. Logan trailed behind, occasionally taking pictures of the two of them and smiling at his phone for a moment.

In one of the deserted, narrow rows, Finn pressed Leo carefully against a bookshelf and kissed him soundly.

“Hey, hey,” Leo heard Logan say, and pulled Leo down for one of his own.

Logan held up his phone to show a picture of Leo and Finn standing over a book with their heads tilted together. “I’m never going to be able to stop looking at this one.”

“Send it to me, Lo,” Finn said, and took the pile of books in Leo’s hands. “Come on. Let me buy you those, and then let’s go home, get warm, and watch the game. Sound okay? And I have a dinner plan for us tonight.”

Leo, honestly, felt a little choked up at just the perfect thought, and nodded quickly. “Yes. Yeah, perfect.”

The hot chocolate had good. The window shopping, too, and the books, and the pastries. But this, Finn’s chest against his back, Logan’s back against Leo’s chest while they shouted at the TV. This was all Leo wanted for his birthday.

[huenjin]

warmth.

pairing — bang chan x reader

word count — 2.1k words

rating — 18+

genre — smut, includes french kissing, choking, blowjob, deep throating, face fucking, daddy kink and dirty talks.

Chan knocks at the door, once and then twice, before announcing, “I’m coming in,” and pulling open the door to your bedroom. He, understandably, decided to spend his birthday in his studio, albeit all your whines and protests. He tells you that it’s just another day and making music should always take priority.

So clearly, he doesn’t expect to see you sitting on your butt between your legs, squatting while you look at your boyfriend enter, his eyes gazing over the prettiest black lace lingerie that you decide to adorn just for him, just to make him feel a little more special today more than the other days.

“Is this my birthday gift?” He gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing up only to slide down against his throat. “This beautiful human barely covered up by this,” he takes a step forward and takes the liberty to touch you, his finger grazing over your lingerie, circling around your nipple hardening under his touch. “Oh my! Look at my babygirl. I can see your nipples getting hard, poking through the material, baby. Are you that needy tonight?”

Your throat dries up and you croak, “Yes,” and you shift forward to come closer to Chan, craving for his touch — his warmth all over you. You had already been fuzzy with possible thoughts of how this night could go down as you waited for Chan to reach home, carefully making sure you had control over yourself so that you didn’t carelessly fall captive to the want of stuffing yourself with your fingers, pumping them in and out to the thought of Chan rawing you out. Instead, you wait. You wait for the birthday boy to do that himself.

He catches your lips into a kiss, moaning into it as his hands wrap around yours and pulls you closer, making you stumble forward, crashing into him only for you to tightly hold his black shirt. You squeeze your eyes shirt, moaning into the kiss as Chan bites the lower lip, tugs at it and releases it before crashing into your lips again, chasing after it like it’s the aphrodisiac that’s going to save him. His grip on your shoulder tighten, skin digging in as he pulls you up, making you stand on your knees. He pulls apart only to lock gaze with you and ask, “You okay, right?”

You nod, heart beat quickening at your boyfriend’s pause to check if you were at ease with how fast-paced everything is moving. “I’m fine. Now please, do whatever in the world you want with me tonight, birthday boy.”

“Oh my god,” his accent is thick, his eyes rolls back in ecstacy before his lips are on yours, right hand tracing your figure before they find their way to your neck only to grip at it to angle it the way he want, lightly squeezing your neck occasionally.

Chan leans in more as he kisses you, lips moving softly against you at first, from the bottom lip to to the top caressing his tongue on the flesh as he moved in. He moves slower this time getting the two of you wrapped up in the glorious haze of making out, that your mind blanks out and all you can think is how warm his tongue is and how much more warmer they feel against you. Your tongue moves in rhythm with his as it laps for whatever he has to give you. Here, his whole breath.

His right hand tightens against your neck as the other hand moves up the skin on your back, trailing small circles on its path as it finally latches onto the hook of your bra before snapping it open with such a finesse that the minute the lace loosens on your body, your hand grabs onto Chan’s shirt even more, fisting it in your grasp for some sort of control.

He pulls apart, your lips moving forward to hold onto him for just a little bit more. Chan chuckles, before his index finger drags the lace straps off your shoulder. He whispers, “It’s about time I unwrap my present,” and stares at how your lingerie is barely covering you at this moment, your breasts ready to spill out at any minute from now.

“How do you still take my breath away?” He gasps before his face turns darker. He softly chuckles under his breath before removing your bra and throwing it to the side. “Pretty. And all mine. Tonight, babygirl, I’ll take your breath away. I’ll make you all mine, all over again. I’ll use you all for my pleasure.” His hand around your neck tightened and your eyes widen, mouth parting almost instinctively as your tongue rests on your lower lips. Chan kisses your tongue for a short while before he stares at you, eyes trying to look deeper into you. His voice is huskier with lust, “Do you feel my hand getting tighter around your neck? I’m going to fuck you so hard that you’ll be gasping for air, legs shaking,” he edges closer to your ear, biting your pinna, “—pussy throbbing.”

You moan at his words, eyes squeezing shut and mouth wide open for air. He lets go of your throat before bending forward to slightly pleace a kiss against your windpipe. Locking gaze with you again, he orders, “Daddy can’t wait anymore for his princess to have him in her mouth.” He stands up straight, stepping closer to the bed. Your gaze lowers down to look at the strenuous bulge, aching to be freed. Your arm stretches to unbuckle his belt, leather digging into the skin of your palm as you grasp it tightly to remove it from his waist, following his pants. It drops mid-thigh, swarming the edge of the bed between the two of you. You pull down his boxer, only for his cock to slap against his lower abdomen and fall right before you. You gulp, drooling slightly at the sight of the prominent vein running along his thick cock.

You stare at it in awe before you carefully take it in your hold, wrapping both your hand around his girth, moving your hands up and down his length, testing the pace that gets him, moaning and flustered. Your hand moves down carefully, before you spit at it to lubricate it. Chan stares at you, observing every single action. You spread your saliva around his length before moving your hand, twisting your hand slightly letting your bones glide against your carpels only for it to grip at his balls and rubbing it between your fingers.

Chan’s fingers comb your hair back, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail as he pulls you in closer and mutters, “Mouth, babygirl. Use your mouth to make me feel all nice and warm.”

The flat of your wet, warm tongue sticks out to lick around the rim of his hot head. Chan groans, “That’s the way. You’re doing so good, baby. So good,” and he tightens his grip on your hair, pain shooting slightly down your nerves that only makes you slickier down there, panties a sheer annoyance at this point. You stretch your mouth, widening it and hollowing it. Chan mumbles praises under his breath, “Look at you taking me in your mouth, licking my cock from the tip and slowly all the way down.” Chan inhales a sharp breath, voice coarser as he doesn’t stop groaning, fingers threading into your hair, massaging the scalp when you relax around him as he eases you down to take more of him slowly.

“We’re going to start off nice and easy,” he tells, pulling at your hair for you to look up at him, his cock still in your mouth. “Oh shit, you already look like a mess all for me,” he licks his lower lips at the sight before him. You gasp, vibrations transmitting to his girth and he grips harder, accidentally bucking into you slightly. “And then, soon, I’m going to fuck my babygirl’s tiny little throat. I’m going to make a fucking mess out of you.”

Chan’s eyes narrows as he throws his head back in pleasure. You feel him twitching in your mouth with every minute you take him in deeper. He pulls out barely before he’s pushing back in, teeth gritted and eyes focused. Chan knows this is going down as one of his better birthdays, especially now that he can close his eyes only to see your pretty lips wrapping around his length, taking him so well as if your mouth was made for him, crafted to perfection, just for him.

Chan takes control soon enough, using your mouth like a cocksleeve as he thrusts into you, moving your head as he wished and you comply. “That’s it. That’s a good girl. Daddy’s going to reward you so well.” Chan slips out profanities with every thrust. Your eyes close and you can’t help but grind slightly into the mattress as you take him in, feeling him enter deep into your throat, causing you to gag around him, your saliva dripping down the side of your mouth.

Your throat tightens around his cock as a mechanism to fight it back, trying to gag and ease your discomfort. The vibrations rumbles out of you as you fight the reflex, only for Chan to emit a low roar before pulling you into him, your nose rubbing against his pruned pubic hair. Tears spill down your face and you know that Chan stayed true to his words. You most definitely looked like a mess. His hips stutter in shallow thrusts into your mouth and you feel the sting of more tears threatening to blur even more of your vision as you oppose your gag reflex.

The sounds of your gagging bounces off the white walls of your bedroom, followed by the deep moans and sighs emitting out from your boyfriend’s lips as he fucks your mouth mercilessly. Each thrust of his hips causes the head of his cock to push past your airway, your throat constricting and eliciting a groan from him.

You release your hold around his length, fingers thickly coated in your own saliva and his precum as you lift it slightly upwards to grab at his white shirt tugging him down slightly, causing him to thrust into your mouth at a faster pace. Your mouth is stretched as wide as you can humanly make it with tears rolling down your cheek continuously, all while you willingly take him wholly in your mouth. With every thrust, you see how coated in your saliva Chan’s cock is and you can only picture how you looked with your saliva around the face, with his precum smeared by the side of your lips.

You look up through the thin gaps of your eyelashes, enthralled to see Chan’s Adam’s apple bobbing up and down while his head is thrown back in ecstacy. His hand is firm on your hair as he uses it to guide you over his shaft remorselessly, your mouth only picking up the pace.

Chan finally lets go of your hair, only for it to fall messily on your shoulder, few strands falling forward. He pulls your head back; his cock comes out from your mouth with a light ‘pop’ followed by you gasping for air, loudly. Chan rubs your head and your back slowly, mumbling, “You were such a good girl. What a perfect babygirl.” The tear stains are prominent in the shallow lighting of the room and your hand is still tight on his shirt, gripping onto it like it’s the only thing keeping you from falling down in exhaustion.

Chan hungrily latches his lips back onto yours — it’s sloppy and messy with residues of your sinful acts smearing between the two of you, almost as if it’s a reminder of his promise to share his everything with you. He pulls back only to cup your face and mumble, “Thank you.” It’s so soft compared to all his prior actions of the night and your eyelashes flutter before you press another chaste kiss against his lips.

“Anything for you, Chan. I love you.”

“I love you too. Lay back now.” You look at him, your head tilting in anticipation, eyes hopeful with nothing alongside lust. “I’m going to reward you like I promised. You’ve been such a good girl for daddy.”

[ptergwen]

call me cupid

w/c: 3.5k

warnings: very mild angst and a few swears

summary: despite your hatred for valentine’s day, peter attempts to make you a card

a/n: happy valentine’s day my loves!! i hope y’all get to spend some time with your people today and eat lots of chocolate <3 love you & enjoy mwah

-

it’s no secret that peter is terrible with words. he gets so flustered he can’t talk or forgets what he wants to say altogether. school presentations are torture. ordering food out is impossible. he’s accepted it at this point, that speaking just isn’t for him.

the one place it doesn’t come across is on paper. peter is ridiculously smart, and he knows all the right words to string together, which is why writing you a valentine should be no trouble at all. should be no trouble at all.

to tell the truth, he’s been sitting at his kitchen table with a blank sheet of paper in front of him for what feels like hours. nothing is coming to him. he’s not sure why this is so hard. you’re his girlfriend, he loves you, he’s said it so many times in every way he could think to. what’s different about it now?

everyone puts way too much pressure on giving the perfect gift when they should really just be enjoying each other’s company on a holiday about love. or, in your words, a meaningless holiday that was created by capitalists as another excuse to take people’s money. 

alright, you aren’t too fond of valentine’s day.

it makes anyone who’s single feel like shit and anyone who’s in a relationship lose their shit.

only mj agreed when you shared your criticisms. ned and betty gave you looks like you were insane, and flash muttered something about you being undateable. peter had laughed and swung an arm around your shoulders, but he didn’t fully agree.

although valentine’s day has its flaws, peter likes to see it as twenty four hours of extra appreciation for the people in his life. you can buy chocolate for your friends and family. it doesn’t have to be a significant other, really. him and ned would do it before he had you and ned had betty.

peter wants to remind you how loved you are even if you’re not into the festivities like he is, that bringing him to writing your card. it’s a simple and clinically underrated way of expressing his gratitude. he’d write you love letters every day if he didn’t suck at them.

may comes out of her room to see peter in the same place he’s been since he got home from school. she looks at him through her glasses, smiling as she comes into the room. he’s tapping his pencil on the table, eraser down, searching his mind for anything to write.

“still nothing?” may asks him, making her way over to the cabinets. peter puts down the pencil and sighs. his shoulders slump. “nope. i haven’t gotten past the intro.” “intro, huh?” she teases her newphew and grabs a jar of sauce. “y/n isn’t your teacher, kiddo. you’re not writing her an essay.” she looks at peter over her shoulder. a sheepish smile creeps onto his face.

“you know what i mean.” he reads over the only words on his paper at the moment. dear y/n. he’s starting to feel like spongebob the one time he wrote a paper. “what are you making?” peter asks may so he can temporarily take the focus off his unwritten valentine. “pasta,” may shakes the box in her hand. “and meatballs.”

“should i dial 911 now or wait until we’re in flames?” peter jokes about her awful cooking skills. may shoos him off and puts the box of pasta on the counter. “worry about your own kitchen nightmare.” she nods at the sheet of paper tormenting him. frowning, he glances back at her. “i’m the worst, may. i really don’t know what to write.”

may struggles to open the jar of sauce as she replies. “i thought you said- jesus.” it pops off. “y/n doesn’t like valentine’s day.” she slides over a pot from the stove and dumps the sauce in. peter stares up at the ceiling. “she doesn’t.” that’s probably why he’s having such a hard time. “why are you writing her a card, then?” may questions, turning on a burner.

“because, i dunno, it’s nice? it’ll make her happy? she might not care, but i do.” he mumbles the last part. he’s a bit of a hopeless romantic, so he hasn’t quite adjusted to the idea you had of not getting each other presents. you’re treating it like a regular day. some takeout and cuddles is all you’re doing.

peter would rather buy you things until his pockets are empty. not that there’s much in them, anyway. the point is that you deserve proper spoiling instead of corny words in his shitty handwriting.

“peter, honey. it might be better to stick with what y/n wants,” may suggests while stirring the sauce in the pot. she’s well aware that a few paragraphs from peter won’t change your mind. your opinions belong to you, and there’s nothing he can do about it, though he does have good intentions.

ignoring what may just said, peter makes a request. “what if you help me write it?” she faces the stove again. he can picture her playful smile when she quirks back, “she’s not my girlfriend.” “no, but you’re a girl... a woman,” he corrects himself, earning a scoff from may. “you’d probably know what sounds good.”

“you know y/n better than me, peter. do it on your own,” she exhales and turns back around with the wooden spoon in her hand. “it’ll be more... heartfelt.” peter hates that may is right because he’s completely stuck. his heart is being stupid today. “okay. i’ll try.” he gives her a slow nod. “why don’t you take a break? come stir the sauce. i’ll start the pasta.”

peter gets up from the table and grabs the spoon from may. she pinches his cheek on her way to the sink, getting a tight lipped smile from him.

this is not good.

-

the next day at school, peter asks around the lunch table for advice while you’re on line getting food. he feels guilty about it because may told him not to. he’s never going to get your valentine done if he doesn’t, though. it isn’t the worst thing in the world to bring on some co-writers.

“ok, what do you have so far?” betty asks, fully invested in the situation. she’s hoping this will switch up your views on valentine’s day. peter pulls out the same piece of paper from last night and says verbatim what’s on it. “dear y/n.” he looks up at ned and betty, the corners of his mouth twitching down. ned motions with his hand for peter to go on.

“that’s it,” peter confesses and folds the paper back up in shame. “dude, you told us it was a work in progress,” ned winces, betty taking his hand that’s resting on her shoulder. “where’s the progress?” betty patronizes him. they’re making him feel worse than he already did. what great co-writers he’s collaborating with.

peter throws a hand up, an eye roll included. “yeah, it’s terrible. can you help me or not?” mj narrows her own eyes at peter from the other end of his bench. she’s not interested in participating when the conversation is about forcing you to celebrate a holiday you don’t like.

“ooh!” betty squeals and squeezes ned’s hand. “you should make a list.” ned grins, leaning his head on hers. “genius, babe.” “a list of what?” peter furrows his eyebrows as he looks between the two of them. “what you love about y/n,” she explains, ned adding on, “stuff you do together, or you appreciate.”

“put whatever you come up with into sentences and voilà,” betty says in her best french accent. “oui oui,” ned agrees, both of them giggling. that doesn’t sound half bad. peter could manage a list about you. “thank you so much, guys. you literally just saved valentine’s day,” he confidently tucks his paper into his pocket. “it’s what we do,” ned tells him coolly.

“you never asked what i think,” mj cuts in, staring down her friends, who reluctantly meet her gaze. she pushes her bag of goldfish aside and raises an eyebrow. “mj, we know how you feel about valentine’s day.” peter presses his lips together. “y/n feels the same way,” mj reminds him dryly.

it’s true, but he doesn’t want to hear that right now. he’s having a breakthrough.

like clockwork, you appear at the table. you slip into the spot next to peter and put down your lunch tray. “what’d i miss?” you comment on the obvious tension, eyeing betty for an explanation. mj gives it to you. “valentine’s day discourse,” she tells you knowingly. peter shifts in his seat, uncomfortable, like he’s been caught doing something he isn’t supposed to.

he technically has.

“yuck,” you murmur, winding your arms around peter’s neck. “yuck, yuck, yuck.” he finds your words ironic because you then kiss his cheek, and peck his lips when he turns his head. peter puts a hand on your side and lets his eyes go up and down your face. a smile spreads across it, which he returns without thinking about. mj huffs in disapproval. she’s seen enough pda.

-

peter makes his list later that night. he decided he isn’t being inauthentic because he’s coming up with everything himself. he breezes right through it, jotting down what he loves most about you across the paper. it’s a mess. scribbled out misspellings and shreds of eraser, single words and whole phrases covering both sides. he’s proud of his actual progress.

he’ll write the official letter tomorrow since you’re coming over tonight. he at least has his material. the next, thankfully final, step is to reword it.

you’re ranting to peter about some drama with one of your teachers. he listens intently as always, chuckling when you crack jokes and grinning the entire time, feeling so lucky to have the most passionate, say whatever is on her mind girlfriend ever. seriously, it’s inspiring to watch.

“no, like, i never know what’s going on in that class,” you snort, peter snaking his arms around your middle from behind. “because you don’t pay attention,” he hums with his face nuzzled into the back of your neck. “because it doesn’t make any sense!” you defend yourself. his lips brush against your bare skin, drawing a giggle out of you.

“back to what i was saying,” your voice drips with sarcasm. the two of you naturally gravitate to his room, you walking in first. “she called on me, and i- what’s this?” you escape peter’s arms and head over to his desk. crap, he was working on your valentine and forgot to put it away. it caught your attention because it’s surrounded by crumpled papers and glitter.

peter was... experimenting... with designs for the front of the card. he’s learned that he isn’t too artistic either.

“wait, don’t read that,“ peter tries, but you’ve already got the list in your hands. he anxiously sucks his lower lip into his mouth and comes to stand next to you.

you first see the ‘dear y/n,’ then focus in on a few other words. my person forever, which makes you coo at the paper. insane (in the best way), which makes you gasp dramatically. i know you don’t like valentine’s day, but...

you drop the card back on the desk and let out a breath, shutting your eyes as irritation creeps in. it wouldn’t be fair for you to be mad at peter because it’s a sweet gesture, it really is. just, not for you personally. you’re on opposite sides of the valentine’s spectrum. you despise it, he sort of loves it. you’d hoped to meet somewhere in the middle.

“i thought we said no gifts,” you keep your voice level and spin around to look at peter. his face is painted with guilt. “it’s a card,” he murmurs, then meets your eyes with his brows knitted together. “i can’t even give you a card?” “i mean...” you shrug and shake your head. “look, peter. we had an agreement. i’m not doing valentine’s day.”

his disappointment comes out in the form of hanging his head. “yeah, you’re right. sorry.”

may tried to tell him this would happen, mj tried to tell him, and now you’re telling him. he should’ve expected it. he isn’t sure why he’s being so mopey about it because he was fully aware of your hatred for anything with the word valentine in it. it still hurts. peter just wishes you’d let him have the one day to love you and only you, give you some special attention.

“it’s nothing against you, babe,” you reassure him, noticing the shift in his mood. you put a hand on his shoulder. “i really just don’t like valentine’s day. it feels so... fake to me.” peter musters up a smile that doesn’t meet his eyes. it drops when you loop your arms around his torso.

“if i celebrated, you’d be the first person i’d wanna spend it with.” you punctuate your words with a kiss to his cheek. he rests his chin on your head, you nuzzling your own cheek into his sweater. he’s feeling a bit better now. it’s not about him, that’s what he needs to remind himself. “thanks, baby,” peter speaks lowly into the air. you hum as if to say no problem.

scratch literally everything he’s done.

-

peter rolls over in his bed, rubbing at his eyes as his alarm goes off. it’s today. happy valentine’s day to... himself. he doesn’t think you’d want to hear it.

he’s not as broken up about everything as the other day. you have your reasons for not celebrating, and peter accepts them. hey, he still gets to spend the whole day with you. you’re technically having an unspoken valentine’s date.

he gets up from his bed with a yawn and starts to dig through his drawers for an outfit. you should be over soon.

before you head over to peter’s, you decide to make a quick stop at cvs for a few things. you ended up feeling pretty terrible about snapping on him essentially for loving you. it was over a harmless valentine, something to make you feel good and be an outlet for the hundreds of romantic bones in his body. basically, you were bitter about having a thoughtful boyfriend.

you want to make it up to him by giving him gifts instead. you’ll never be down with the whole exploitive and capitalistic side of valentine’s day, but there’s a deeper meaning to it than what you give it credit for. you see that now. peter was able to show his love for you through a homemade mess of a card, and you felt it. the price tags don’t matter. the meaning does.

dressed in his nicest sweater with his hair all styled, peter answers your knocking at his door. a grin instantly paints his face as he takes you in. you’re bundled up in a coat and holding a bag by your side. “hey,” he greets you and lets you past him. you shut the door behind him, returning the smile and winding an arm around his neck for a hug. his drapes around your back.

“hey. happy valentine’s day.” “happy valentine’s-“ peter realizes what he’s about to say and what you just said, then stops himself. “what?” he breaks the hug, squinting at your odd behavior. you’re the last person he’d expected to hear that from. “it’s valentine’s day. so, happy valentine’s day,” you tell him like it’s nothing.

he stays quiet while you shrug off your coat and throw it over one of the kitchen chairs. you bring your bag along with you, peter following you in. he’s suspicious. intrigued, and suspicious. it’s been less than a day since he last say you. you had a change of heart that fast? you aren’t the biggest valentine’s day anti he knows anymore?

“where’s may?” you wonder aloud, taking both of peter’s hands in your now free ones. he eyes the shopping bag you put down while you lace your fingers together. “with happy. they’re getting brunch.” he’s never particularly psyched to talk about their relationship. it’s always been in a joking way, though. now, he sounds genuinely upset to go over may’s whereabouts.

“they’re so cute,” you comment, tugging on peter’s hands so he looks at you. “you good?” “great,” peter half lies and nods, then presses a reassuring kiss to your cheek. he’s not bad. puzzled is the word. what you say next only adds to it.

“good. i have a few things for you,” you beam at him and grab your shopping bag off the chair. that’s what that’s for? peter isn’t fully sure what you’re up to. it doesn’t stop a smile from stretching across his lips, though.

“what happened to no presents?” he tests you as you reach into the bag. “well, i feel bad about how i acted the other day.” you pull out a heart shaped box of chocolates. “the card was really sweet, and i was too caught off guard to appreciate it. i’m sorry, pete.” peter’s eyes twinkle at you, gazing as you give him a smile with a hint of shyness behind it. you’re leaving your comfort zone and entering his.

“i was wrong and cynical and just, yeah. happy valentine’s day,” you add on and shove the box into his hand. he finally grins, so wide and then lets out a breathy laugh. “thanks, y/n. i know it was probably hard to shop being surrounded by this stuff.” he holds up the box. he’s right. you’ll unfortunately be seeing pink and red for weeks. “it was, but i did it for you.” you happily open up your arms for him.

peter puts down the chocolates and pulls you into his arms, his cheek squished against the side of your head as he hugs you to his chest. “oh my god, i love you so much,” he mumbles out, you squeezing him in response. “i love you, pete.” you press a quick kiss to his neck and hold him at arm’s length so you can see him. “i have something else for you.”

“baby,” peter coos, a pout on his lips. “you don’t have to do all of this. i would’ve been fine without the chocolates, even.” “stop, you deserve it,” you shut down the part of him that’s way too nice and selfless. “you’re my real present,” he says lower and with a toothy smile. shaking your head, you reach behind you and into the bag.

he can’t believe you’ve switched stances on valentine’s day. you’re the present pusher, and he’s refusing them. peter thinks it’s some sort of miracle that you’re not only acknowledging the holiday, you’re also partaking in it. his hopeless romantic side tells him it’s actually love, and it is. that’s the cheesy, hallmark movie truth. you suffered through shopping at a heart themed cvs because you love him. simple.

you return with a pink envelope that you place into peter’s hand. his face softens as he closes his fingers around it. “y/n, you made me a card?” “kind of,” you laugh at his overstatement. it’s obviously pre-made. you’d used a pen to fill it out in the store, scribbled a few words and tucked it into the envelope.

“it really doesn’t compare to yours, though,” you simultaneously warn and compliment him. peter dismisses you with a lighthearted click of his tongue. “oh, shush. that was only a rough draft.” “which proves my point even more. open it.” you grip onto the bottom of his sweater and grin.

he keeps his eyes on you while ripping open the envelope, then looks down and chuckles at the gag of the card. it has r2d2 and r4d4 from star wars on the front. inside is already written, “r4 is red and r2 is blue. if i was the force then i’d be with you.” you giggle to yourself, watching him read what you wrote next. i love you more every day, especially on valentine’s. xo, y/n.

peter holds the card to his side and slings an arm around your waist. “they make star wars valentines?” he murmurs, another smile breaking out on his face, one that you of course return. you use his sweater to pull him closer. “apparently. perfect for you.” peter tosses the card down next to the chocolates, both arms now holding you.

“thank you so much, baby. you’re an angel,” he sighs and pecks your lips after. “call me cupid,” you answer.

you give him a longer kiss back, tilting your head up to deepen it. your hands find their place on his biceps, earning a hum from peter as he moves his lips against yours. you can feel his love in every little movement, how he hugs your waist like you’re made of glass, rests his forehead against yours. when your lips mutually detach, peter speaks first, voice slightly husky.

“happy valentine’s day, cupid.”

you breathe out, peter closing his eyes in content.

“happy valentine’s day, r2.”

[minimoxha]

Batfam Valentines Day Special

 The batfamily takes Valentine’s Day very...very seriously.

Characters: Jason Todd, Tim Drake, Damian Wyane, Dick Grayson, Bruce Wyane, Y/n L/n(Batmom), Alfred Pennyworty

Warning(s): None

1,579 Words

Not edited.

(A/N I know Valentine’s Day passed but I got this idea after it so...deal with it.)

All throughout Wayne manor, everyone was preparing for the day known as Valentine’s Day. They were moving so fast it made it seem like they were competing. Probably because...they were. Why? Because today was Valentine’s Day and they all wanted to give you the best day but every one of them wanted to do different things. So when Jason first joined the family, it became a competition to see which one could give you the best time with them.

You woke up to the sweet smell of French toast, a smile Turing on your face. You knew what day it was, possibly one of your favorite days other than Christmas or your birthday of course. Damian was the first to come in your room, Laing down and cuddling with you. No matter how people saw him on the outside, he was a soft and cuddly bear on the inside. “Good morning Mother. You’ll spend time with me first, right? I am your favorite so it’s only natural I go first.” Damien Gloated, making you emit a small giggle. “Dami, I told you that it was dickies turn this year.” You said making the young boy groan in response and get ready to lift up but relaxed his body again once you started to run your hands through his hair. “Who’s cooking for me Dami?” Damien answered your question by counting to five on his fingers. Once he got to five, Jason came through the door holding a tray of food, Bruce with a card and flowers, dick holding cups and apppe juice, (Apple juice is better than orange.), and Tim holding coffee cups.

All four of the men walked into the room, Joining you and Damian on the bed, not before saying good morning to you. “Flowers? For me?” You teased, smelling the roses. “They were from me” Bruce admitted, a smirk crossing his face making Jason roll his eyes. “So who gets you first, ma?”  Jason asked. “Hm...Dickie.” You smiled at your oldest, making him mirror his expression and everyone else groan. It was sweet really, instead of spending time with their friends or significant other they wanted to give the day to you. All of you had busy schedules so these were one of the days they could spend a lot of fun time with their mommy. After everyone finished eating, dick gave you an outfit and waited outside your door for you to change. “So you know that musical you wanted to see? Well I Got tickets, the best seats!” He cheered. You squeezed from inside the room, quickly opening your door. “My outfit looks great on you.” He smiled. You were wearing High waisted black pants and a gray hoodie with no hood that was a little too big for you. 

Dick was right, they were amazing seats. The both of you were in Love with the musical and tried to keep yourselves from singing but failed, earn dirty looks from the people around you. (I didn’t make more because idk but if you want short tories on how the details went during everyones time with Y/n tell me))After you left the theater, the both of you got slushies and cinnamon rolls (Even though it was 11Am, your dentist is pissed rn) and then he returned you home and went to his brothers ti gloat and tell him how the defenitly won and had the best time with you. Next was Jason, right when you walked in he got you and took you back out. “What do you have planned fir me today, JayJay?” You asked following him after he grabbed a bag onto his motorcycle . “You can choose between a Monster Truck Rally and Paint balling Ma.” He said. “Paint-balling” Nodding, he drove off to a paint ball arena with you holding onto his back. He arrived at the place and signed in. The both of you were taken into the back where you got a run down and gear. “Dickies going to be pissed that his outfit is covered in paint.” You giggled, putting on your gear along with Jason and listening to the rules. You didn’t follow them though. The both of you DEMOLISHED every kid, adult, and teen, only getting a few paintballs on yourself. Then it came down to you and Jason. He stalked around you, trying to be be intimidating but failing with a smile. “Theres only room for one paintballer in this town” He said, faking a country accent.  

“Well then, It’ll have to be me!” You yelled, shooting three at him then ducking under a rock. He successfully dodged your attacks making the game go on for what felt like forever for the bystanders but just a couple minutes for you. It seemed like it was going to go on forever until Jason tripped on a rock and fell, giving you the chance to shoot him right in his butt. “Suck it, Jay!” You yelled, doing your victory dance in front of him. Jason smiled, he loved seeing you in this mood. With work, and watching from the batcomptr, you were either on edge or stressed out of your mind, And once you got competitive, you stayed competitive until you won. Constantly, challenging your family to games. “Ill beat you next Time, Ma’” Jason laughed, fist bumping you and standing up to sling his arm around your shoulder and walk to the changing rooms with you. (Not the same one) “Guess what we got the Replacement and Demon Spawn to do for ya.” “Hm I Don't know Jay, What.” 

“I got them to share your time and have a picnic with you.” You sighed then answered, “Jay, I’ll be surprised if there still is a picnic by the time we get there.” Jason laughed at your Joke, getting the both of you on his bike and driving to a beautiful forest. The sun was cutting through the trees who's leaves were falling off. There was an opening, where Damian had lanterns all around while the picnic blanket was in the middle of a flower bed. You got off of Jasons bike and saw through the trees, Damian and Tim arguing, on the verge of turning it into a full blown fist fight. Before things escalated, you stepped in and let Jason leave the three of you alone. “Boys, please don't fight today” With one last glare, they settled down. Damian opened the light brown basket and took your favorite dishes out. “We helped Alfred make all of your favorites, Mother. I hope you enjoy them” Tim opened the Saran Wrap. “Yeah Mom, I hope you like it.” Damian put a couple heart-shaped sandwiches on your plate and poured the drinks while Tim showed you this cool coding project he had been walking on. “So mother, isn’t this the best out of both of the trips they took you on?” Damian asked, smiling slightly after biting into a cupcake and clearly enjoying it.  “I had an Amazing Day with all of you, I won't pick favorites.” You smiled and ruffled both of the boys’ hair. They were amazing children no matter they're faults. The rest of the picnic was amazing, the both of you eating until you couldn’t eat anymore and Joking around. For the first time in a while, you saw a Huge smile on both of the boys’ face. After, Tim called Alfred and he picked the both of you and took you to get your hair done, nails done and a nice dress that they (surprisingly) agreed on. They showed up at the manor and rushed Batmom to the backyard where bruce was standing in a candlelit circle. Inside it , was a couple speakers and Bruce right in the middle. His hair was slicked back and he was wearing a nice suit that matched your dress. He raised his hand out toward you and you excitedly took it.

“May I have this dance?” He smiled, pulling you into his chest. His cologne, being all that you could smell. “you may” The both of you danced like nobody was watching, because nobody was. It wasn’t like the dances you would have at formal events, where you had to dance like professionals. No, it was your own little dance party with only the two of you. You didn’t have to worry about people watching or taking pictures. After about 5 songs, the dancing stopped and Bruce slid a ring on your finger. It was a crown with the tips and middles having diamonds inside of them. “Bruce...this is beautiful” you smiled as you looked at it. Bruce snuck his hands around your waist and put his chin on top of your head. Him being the tall man that he was, he had no problems with hugging or cuddling with you while standing. “Let’s be honest My love, I gave you the best day , yes?” He smirked. Bruce was always very cocky but you found yourself more attracted to him after each word he uttered to you. “You’ll never know, Dear” You teased making him playfully sigh. “I’m the worlds greatest detective, I already know.”

“God, I love all of you so Much” Like every year, Each one of your boys always found a way to surprise you or just make your life better. They meant the world to you and if you could keep life like this you would. This was perfect. Absolute perfection

[theyarebothgunshot]

this is exactly how it went down in my head.

misha: hey, everything okay? do you need me to do something?

jensen: no, lay low. we’re figuring it out.

misha: got it.

— the next day —

misha: things settled. should i say anything? draw attention? stay neutral?

jensen: you don’t have to, but if you want, tread lightly. we’ve had enough chaos.

misha: say no more.

when nobody got your back you KNOW dmitri got your back.

ANYWAYS i turned my back for TWO MINUTES and y'all went the fuck off in my inbox so, you know the drill: more under the cut

NO BUT JENSEN’S RESPONSE LMAAAAAO honestly fallout theory is so on oh my God I can’t stop-

on god they are so loud like-

Worst damage control i've ever seen. god bles.

so true bestie

I think Jensen probably just wants to be done with this petty little drama, so if he has to pretend everything between them is okay he is going to be the bigger man and lay it to rest. Whatever is going on between them he definitely doesn't want to sort that out on social media and the earlier he pretends everything is sorted out the earlier people will forget about it again.

Also it's kinda funny how J*red Tweet was like implying they had a misunderstanding but still talk to each other regularly, while Jensen went full on the we grow apart a little bit, because we were busy, let's catch back up. Makes me wonder if they actually talked or if there managers just said hey that's not good pr, let's put that to rest. Also did J*red know before yesterday that they had a falling out or did he just not realize.

- 🐌 anon

literally jensen went out of his way to say 'uhhh we never talk, worstie' god if pr management is involved then they did a bad job. also j*red still does not realise they have fallen out. jshfjdsfh

Jackles was like God bless but we ain’t talking like this worstie

good for her.gif

csdsc heeft gevraagd:

All I need now is for Misha to tweet “ is it safe to come out now?” And I’ll be complete lmfao 😂😂😂

that would have been better than what we got lmfao

I have one fear and it's Jensen being forced to add j*red to his show and his other projects because he couldn't stop whining like a baby,,, ugh i hate him

i pretend i do not see

Kinda selfish of me tbh but i don't want them to be "friends" again, Jensen sweetie run as fast as you can

co-signed

Ok Jensen's answer to Jared tweet made me feel so bad for him. Like, I can see it's damage control and public relations (obviously) but there's stuff behind it. I can't name it, but idk, I felt terrible for texas man this time, I don't think that reply was written with a "love and light energy" or even without much care. I felt some heavy vibes.

- 🌻, who is now a fortune teller and a prophet apparently

yeah i feel hella bad for him to, for having to deal with this shit. nonnie please if you ever have anything to predict, lemme know sjdfhs

You know Jensen's tweet has the energy of like kindergarten wenn an other kid started a fight with you and the kindergarten teacher wants you to forgive each other and hung it out and you really don't want to, but your kindergarten teacher is being annoying and he isn't worth the annoyance either.

- 🐌 anon

you are not wrong

Incredibly thankful that I have the day off from work 😂 I'm with hatching chick anon, the 3 dots read as passive aggressive/insincere to me, and I love it! I haven't spent this many hours on tumblr since I first discovered cockles! (On a side note, the lack of fimmf posts today has me feeling like it's not friday lol) -🐢

i, too, miss fimmf but alas things happen, they do they do they do

I was right. :(

It got almost romantic...

👀

nonnie you know i love you but this is really not the case, like, at all??? idk how you could look at those tweets and think it was almost romantic. it was THEE most scripted, pr bullshit ever. it was staged and fake. idk what else to tell ya

Danneel liked Jensen's tweet

i saw

That is so so awkward I feel so sorry for all of us being exposed to this and so happy I chose to leave the Internet for half a day - tea anon

god bless your stance on that cause i would have hated missing out on this lmao

You know what? I think it’s okay being a 38 year old moron if you’re bringing us this type of content

im happy with the food but still think its not okay tbh

pspspsps Misha this is the perfect day for you to drop the gay Cas essay pspspspsp it is still pride month pspspsps

you know you want to king pspsps

So that JIB6 link (I think it was from your post, right?). I went and watched that bit, and a little more.

Jensen makes a comment about Jared being first on the call sheet because Sam was supposed to be the main focal character.

And that him nor Misha cared about what number they were, so in all that time it never changed.

And I’ll be… if that just doesn’t perfectly sum them up and their feelings on things. And how a certain someone can be petty… 🦚

idk if it was from my post? but maybe? my analysis probably? but yeah things are making more and more sense huh

Ohh that's also an alien? Welcome to the extraterrestial family then, purple alien anon!

Also it's probably because I'm coming off the high this drama gave me but I'm not looking forward to them trying so hard to convince us everything is normal between them. Even though we now Know, they will have to keep pretending. Today (yesterday?) was a shitshow but some masks fell off, at least for a moment and I kinda wish Jensen was less professional 😂

👽

oh for real, fallout theory IS confirmed and nothing they said today will change my mind, it only made me believe in it even more lmfao and with that in mind i am just gonna sip my tea if they try to be buddy buddy on main again

I THINK MISHA UNRETWEETED BUT HE TWEETED "LOVE AND MISS YOU BOTH" I'M LOSING MY DIGNITY HERE - tea anon

yeah he now answered them sjdfhsjfhsf instead of rt

MISHA COLLINS IS A KING I STAN THE RIGHT MAN

YOU SURE DO

I just know Misha’s process was oh crap I have to let people know I’m supporting them and I can’t choose sides. Ok. Retweet. NO. Delete. I love both of you. Yes, good.

sjdfsdfh this makes me think of that post that dissected jackles' birthday post for misha where he used the heart. 'call him bro, that makes it less obvious. nailed it.'

Lol I'm off for a few days and come back to total chaos... God I missed it here

Like the "et tu... #bravo" tweet? Made my day! Frikking hilarious (every time I see it I picture J*red with a pissy frech accent saying it out loud lol) it's just such an incredibly petty hissy fit he threw (I know he tweeted more later on but... Really all that stuff coming afterwards just sounds like damage control)

Missed you Rose

-🐻

LOVE the french accent detail im gonna do this too sdjfhsjfh missed you toooo!!!!

Oh man Misha is really gonna get hate for that I KNOW IT

sigh well. nothing he isnt used to by now, unfortunately

i mean i believe they feel like brothers, but constantly falling back on the “brother” thing to keep up appearances is really starting to feel like “#spnfamily” at this point.

honestly brothers can be very annoying, or so i have heard, so it fits with the fallout theory lmao

They actually said if we’re gonna make this gay we cannot have Jar*d Pad*lecki involved

oh my God this is the funniest timeline to ever exist God bless I’m just waiting to canon bi Mary

king shit tbh

[muffindaddystyles]

HARRY'S 27th !!!

Author's Note: Tooth rotting fluffy blurb 'cause it's my baby's birthday. I love him so much uwu.

He was swarmed with reverent loving kisses doting from his relaxed temple down where the centre of his sentiments and the luminosity of love resides in for you – his heart. His taffy mouth blew raspberries against her cheeks in effort to wake up as she gives him generous cuddles wrapped around him like one of his fuzziest warmest blankets. They day hasn't even started and he's already feeling so loved by his lovie.

"Happy birthday, honey!" She whispers squeal with excitement flickering in her eyes as she nuzzled her cheeks under his chin peppering lil soft kisses, "Thank you m'love you're such a pleased gift to wake up to." He giggles squishing her tight against his solid chest.

"C'mon up up! Made brekkie for you!" She exclaims sponging a tender kiss to his plush lips trying to lug him off from bed tugging him from wrists, "alright alright lil penguin." He tries to pick up his limbs with same vibrancy she's expecting from him.

She makes him sit fetching plates from the kitchen and Harry heart might burst into confetti. The love he has for her scattering all over around as he awes looking at the heart shaped pancakes with hearty eyes made from chocolate syrup. I'm her utter thrill she rips it off with a fork hovering it over his mouth, "hmm. Pet yummiest pancakes 've had in me life." He praises her when she feeds him tilting her chin and kissing her lips softly.

"Thank you. Wanted your birthday to be best -- wanted to celebrate you." If her propaganda is to make him cry she's already succeeding at it. He shifts her into his lap crooning sweet nothings and thankful kisses into the cave of her neck, "It's already the best with ye' in my arms baby." He sighs chewing feeding her some and she gulps quickly interjecting.

"I've a surprise for you!" She flutters her fingertips from the dollop of his cheeks down this throat, "You didn't have to." He shakes his head with a intact grin eyes still puffy from sleep.

"Yes I do. I love you baby!" She smothers him in loud kisses cause the affection is spilling from the brim of her heart and the roles have been reversed so beautifully since Harry's the one being this gooey for her all the time.

//

"Can I open 'em now?" He chuckles trying not to tumble as she's covering his eyes with her palms to keep from ruining the surprise. She was ecastic padding towards him with bags and boxes of gifts but when he tried to unwrap them after emotional gazes and smiley faces of "'m s' lucky to have you pet." "You didn't have to . ." She jumped on her bum almost shouting at him not to unwrap them at the moment cause another surprise is waiting for him in afternoon, kissing him sheepishly after that.

Harry gasps awestruck. Eyes total heart shaped and candy mouth babbling like a goldfish. He laces his fingers with her pulling her closer to him to kiss her head as she smiles in victory, "The weather was too pretty today -- knew it's your birthday." She giggles pressing her lips to his chest.

She has set-up a small picnic in their garden. With a cake she was baking and adorning with frosting whole previous night, fruits and wine, different breads and fruity drinks of pinks and orange.

Grass lush with white roses and pink bearths surrounding them with a wooden fence infront of them that has nothing but vast rich land full of trees behind it. There are cotton wet clouds in the marble blue sky and sun that winks at them time to time. It's perfect.

"I love it lil penguin. Love you." He breathes out happily leading her to sit down with him. Her cnoodled between his warm embrace and she hands him gifts to unwrap. He take out tissues from the bag and glances at her gleefully picking up the gloves made of sheer sage satin fabric, "'s just your hands looks s' pretty in them." She clutches at the hem of his shirt making him grin that wide it suckles dimples deep into his cheeks.

Then the matte lilac box that has flimsy hearts painted at it's borders with his name in between, "Painted those for you." She mumbles shyly and he cups her cheeks leaving everything to whisper into her mouth, "you're s' contagious not to love you." When he opens it up with same gentleness he holds for her it reveals a pink silk top with his initials embroidered on the vedge of it's pocket along with a lil flower.

"Froggy helped me choose the silk you like the most 'n . . 'n guided me sewing it." She calls Harris froggy. "Gonna wear it all day and every day." He giggles fumbling with her bottom pink lip.

"Last one then . . ." She squeaks handing him the tinsy bag and when he shoves his hand a card comes into his grasp. He reads the contents on it and sighs ever so loud full of happiness. It's an invitation to a dulcimer playing get together, where old people from certain cultures gather to play their folk tunes.

"Can take Mitch maybe Harry with ya." She says nervously and he watches with glittery eyes tracing the edges of card, "I'll take you. Would ya like to go on a date with me miss y/n?" He smirks playing with her fingers and she bobs her head.

"Let's cut this cake 'm starvin'." He rubs his hands together to show his eagerness and she laughs out aloud, "wait wait lemme put a candle." She pushes him away putting a single candle and litting it up.

"Make a wish baby!!" She claps her hand closer to her chest leaning against his shoulder with cheshire grin. He closes his eyes blowing it and she smothers him in kissing holding his face from side. He looks at her confused when she hands him a wine glass scooping up cake in it with it, "do it. It's fun!!" She giggles and he shakes his head doing the same clanking the rims together.

"Here goes to me 27th full of love and smiles." His accent deeply british with cheeks rosy from the light zephyr.

They fed eachother, her head in his lap listening to the vinyl recorder playing a french melody. He cackles loudly when a squirrel steals the crumb of her blue berries and kisses her pout gazing the little creature accompanying him in his cute lil birthday party. They are slightly tipsy, maybe Harry thinks but the fuzziness and clinginess that's tickling his tummy proves it right.

He just couldn't resist kissing her and lovin' her. Praising her. Thanking her. Staring the candy shaped clouds. He couldn't want anything else. Just him and her. In their little bubble of adoration.

[plus-size-reader]

Hidden Away

Erik x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2184 words

Warnings: none

Summary: The reader is getting picked on and Erik helps make her feel better.

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Everyone had heard the rumors of the angel of music, the guardian of this place but you had never believed them before.

You had never had any kind of encounter and aside from frightened whispers from the dancers and stories from Madame Giry, you didn’t think you ever would.

In fact, if you had never gotten that letter, you may not have ever learned the truth about this place.

The Opera Populaire had gotten similar letters before, from someone signing as ‘Opera Ghost’ but you had no idea who that was. All you knew was that there was a letter just like it, resting upon your nightstand.

It may have been easier to pass off as a prank, but you didn’t think so. The performers in this place often thought you a joke, and wouldn’t waste their time doing something so elaborate.

Rather, they would just torment you during your rehearsal. You could never have hoped to be a ballerina, though you often wished you could have been.

You just weren’t built for that sort of thing, but what you did have was a voice that not even the most cruel among them could refute.

Madame Giry often said that if you had been built like the other girls were, you would have been the most popular performer the opera would’ve ever had.

You should have known better than to think that living in a place like this would be gentle toward your insecurities. The dancers alone were all in such a physical condition that they were almost always in pain.

...Not to mention, rail thin.

That being said though, you knew that it wasn’t their fault that you weren’t but that didn’t make their cruel comments any less harmful.

Not every one of the ballerinas was nasty to you, or made snide remarks about how pretty you’d be if you weren’t ‘built like that’. It was just that the ones that did sort of took up all your attention.

For example, today, you had been doing your best to perform your rendition of Hannibal that Carlotta was going to be doing tonight at the show.

It was just something you’d been trying to perfect since she began doing it. It was easy to get that song stuck in your head, and as a singer, it was only a matter of time before you attempted it for yourself.

You thought you sounded alright, though not as good as the headliner always did, but right on schedule, Bernadette came round the corner.

She wasn’t the most skilled among the dancers, as she couldn’t hold a candle to Christine or Meg but she was talented for sure. More importantly than all that though, was the fact that she hated you.

Treating you poorly was arguably her favorite thing to do.

“Come now Y/N, there is no use in practicing. They are never going to let you up on stage. I doubt they could even fit you into any of Carlotta’s costumes” she hummed, her thick french accent attacking your senses.

It was a tone you were comfortable with, and if she had been any more kind, it would have even been beautiful but with the way she chose to use it, that all faded away.

Perhaps you could have argued with her or defended yourself some but you knew from experience that it wouldn’t lessen her attack. So, instead, you removed yourself from the situation completely.

Of course, doing so only made her more wicked, a cackle leaving her lips when you left the stage. You didn’t even want to know what she was saying to her friends, but it didn’t matter.

Having heard it or not, it hurt all the same.

You were just so tired of your appearance having anything to do with your talent, as if a couple extra pounds affected your ability to sing.

...And you began to cry.

Luckily, you were far enough away from anyone to know about it, but you couldn’t help yourself even if they were around. It just hurt to never feel good enough, no matter how strong you tried to act.

Sometimes you just had to let it out.

Now, you didn’t know from where you were sitting, curled up in the corner of the room with your head in your hands but there was a witness to the entire thing.

A witness that had been paying attention to you for quite some time.

The opera ghost was the focus of so many people’s attention in the opera currently but the focus of the entity himself...was you.

He couldn’t help himself.

Erik could hear your voice through the walls, even when you were singing alone in your room and by this point, he found himself completely enamored by everything you were.

In some ways, maybe he even found himself developing feelings for you, in his own special way.

In any case, watching those girls speak so cruelly to you filled the man with rage. The only thing that softened that anger was seeing you there, kneeling down with tears in your eyes.

That was enough to stop him in his tracks completely.

That was when he sat down and wrote that letter, requesting that you allow him to meet you in person, provided that you wanted to do so. That way, if he needed to whisk you away in the future, he could do so without alarming you.

Perhaps it was awkward, or strange, but in his defense, Erik had lived most of his life within the walls and dungeon of this place. He wasn’t really the most up to date on social graces.

If nothing else, it was his attempt at not startling you with his presence.

...And thankfully for him, it worked.

You read his letter that next morning, having found it laid gently on your nightstand, stamped perfectly with blood red wax.

It didn’t make any sense, and it seemed rather foolish to answer the calls of some invisible man that you’d never seen before but you couldn't help yourself.

They said that curiosity killed that cat, but in your case, it may have skinned it well first. You didn’t bother to let anyone know you were going, and you didn't care too.

All you knew was when Erik appeared, having pushed through the floor length mirror in your bedroom, you followed him into what could have been another world.

It was both grotesque and beautiful, the dark hallways smelling of musk and soot. You had lived in the dormitories all your life, but you never knew this was hidden just below.

It was clear that this was the most well guarded secret of all that the opera had to offer, and you had to consider yourself lucky to be standing where you were.

Even if maybe you weren’t quite sure why you were doing it.

“What is your name Monsieur? What do you want from me?” you asked, following behind him a quiet tone, having just stepped from the boat.

Where you were now was no more than a built up rock quarry under the opera, but it was decorated as a house would have been. Clearly, he had been living here.

For how long, you had no idea.

Erik didn’t speak at first, doing his best to think this whole thing out before he could ruin it. He had been watching you for so long, dreaming of how you would speak to him, and now that it was here, he was at a loss.

“I hate the way those other little creatures speak of you” he commented finally, not even bothering to introduce himself. It was probably best that you didn’t know who he was right away.

You knew what he was referring to almost immediately, taking it upon yourself to set down on the satin sheet of the bed now. You had no idea how he knew, but he must have been talking about Bernadette.

No one else spoke viley of you more than she did, and if that was why he’d chosen to speak to you, there had to be a reason.

Why would he care?

“She isn’t wrong in what she says, though it hurts” you shrugged, deciding that having someone to talk to was worth all the danger you’d put yourself in to get here.

There were so many unanswered questions but you couldn’t bother with them right now. All you could think about was this strange man, sitting in front of you now.

Half of his face was hidden from your view, those you focused mainly on his crystal blue eyes. They shone even in the darkness of the pit you were sitting in, and you wondered briefly what they would look like in the midmorning sun.

You assumed it would be like staring deep into a sparkling bay at the peak of summer, and that idea delighted you slightly.

“Don’t ever speak like that” he spat, a bit more upset than he meant to. It was just that it was bad enough to have to listen to them make up rude things about you.

The last thing Erik wasn’t was for you to start feeling them yourself.

“Why do you hide away? Why do you hide your face from me now?” you wondered, not letting the slip of his tongue frighten you, though maybe it should have.

For whatever reason, you felt safe here. Frankly, you were more comfortable sitting here, under the watchful gaze of a stranger, than you had ever been anywhere else.

It just didn’t make any sense that he would stay down here when all of Paris was right outside these walls.

“The world would not be kind to me, as it is unkind to you, and I hide from you so that you will not be afraid” he allowed, knowing that you were starting to feel more comfortable in this odd situation.

Had circumstances allowed it, he would have loved to meet you up there, in attendance of one of your shows. He would have loved to hear your voice in all its glory, but what he said was true.

The world had reared its ugly head to Erik before, and he wasn’t willing to go through that again.

“I will not be afraid” you promised, though when the male mentioned it no more, moving instead to talk about what he’d seen last night, you took that as your hint to do the same.

You didn't know this stranger, after all, and you didn't want to go too far.

“Why do you let them treat you so poorly. Surely you must know that you possess more talent than the lot of them combined” He wondered, almost reaching out to take your hand in his own before he stopped himself.

Erik yearned to feel your skin against this own, it was true, but he didn’t want to risk scaring you away before he even really got to know you.

He had to remember that while he felt like he knew you fully, you had only just met him.

It was a strange question, but all things considered, it was probably the most tame thing you had done all day so you answered him. “I can’t dance nearly as well as they can, besides, there is truth to what Bernadette said. I will never be a real opera singer, not the way I am”

There was a sadness in your voice, like you had already accepted it to be the only truth there was, and that was because you had. In your eyes, there was no room for a woman like you, a big woman.

You had heard everything there was.

That if you were to lose weight, you would be on stage every night. That you were wasting time on a dream with no future when you should be looking for a husband. That you would never find a husband unless you stopped eating.

It was never ending, but you had never admitted that to anyone before.

Maybe it was the odd comfort that you found in the presence of this stranger, or maybe it was because you were hidden away from the world, but you had said it out loud.

...And now Erik understood.

You had never understood what a beauty you were because no one would let you be true to it. No one would let you embrace the obvious beauty you had and instead forced it down within you.

They made you think that the problem with the world was you, when in reality, they were making up lies to keep you beneath them.

“You will never say those things again. You will be on stage, a night all to yourself, I’ll make sure of it” Erik decided, and while you had no idea what he was talking about or how that was going to happen, you nodded.

Anything seemed possible, sitting with a handsome stranger in the darkness and even if it was all a lie, you could bask in it for a little while.