#I love having books that look as new as I got them so wrinkles are an absolute no go

[somnambulic-thing]

page 622 read on ao3

Eddie Munson x afab!reader E +18

summary: It's the middle of the night and you just can't find sleep. Eddie wants to help. He wants to help so bad.

Words: 3k

||reader has insomnia, smut, fluff, pinch of angst, LOTR references, domestic, nerds in love||

A/N: This is for all of us who haunt the nights. <3

Page 622 is graced with not one, but two dog ears.

That’s nothing unusual for the thick heavy paperback in your hands. A copy of The Lord of the Rings, all three parts united in one book and littered with battle scars like a gnarly old Orc of Mordor.

It belongs to both of you, bought on that whimsical fleamarket by the side of the road with spare change collected from the nooks and crannies of the van. It hadn’t mattered that you already owned a box set each, it had been clear that this book wanted to go home with you. Once integrated into your shared collection, it became the copy that was pulled out when Eddie and you had an argument about the most minuscule details to settle. It wasn’t a rare occasion that someone got tackled before they could claim victory over the matter. That brave book had been ripped from victorious hands more times than you could count and flung over shoulders, into corners or behind furniture.

It was also the copy Eddie used to ponder ideas. When he was writing a campaign and the atmosphere he was eager to create didn’t feel quite right, he would go down into the Mines of Moria or deep into the thicket of Fangorn forest and seek inspiration between the lines. There he left marks with the heavy tip of his pencil, elbows catching on the edges of pages as he reached for his notebook, creating new dogears, sometimes small tears.

You loved those marks and never grew tired of discovering fresh traces of his adventures. They kept you company on those days you wouldn’t get tired at all.

The world between the worn covers was familiar, the motions of the adventures committed to memory in many places, the adventurers friends that comforted you on restless nights.

You chose this copy over the others you own because it’s an intimate object, because you could trust it to catch you should you fall asleep on its pages, trust it to be more beautiful in the morning with more kinks and wrinkles.

But there were days when even the unhastiness of Treebeard wouldn’t do the trick to coax you into slumber. Today was such a day; stuck on the sofa on a dark, restless sea and no sleep in sight.

You hadn’t heard him coming.

“Just flopped around the mattress like a fish out of water looking for you.”

Eddie’s voice is deep and raspy and a little cranky around the edges. Your eyes shift from page 622 to where he stands in the doorframe, all tousled hair and sleepy eyes. There are lines on his right cheek, a shallow relief in the mirror image of his pillowcase. His boxers sit dangerously low on his hips and it tickles in your fingertips to follow the trail of soft hair and tuck them further down.

“That’s an amusing image,” you say with a smile as Eddie rubs one eye with his flat hand, nose scrunched up and wrinkly. “Can you demonstrate that to me?”

“Do not mock me. I awoke all cold and lonely…” he waves the other hand through the air. “Forsaken by my love.”

“I’m sorry,” you say, the mirth in your tone slipping just slightly, but Eddie catches it.

“How long have you been up?” he asks, banter put aside in exchange for worry and makes his way over to the nest of blankets and pillows you’d made on the sofa.

You frown, not sure you know the answer to that question, feeling like you’ve fallen out of the stream of time; trapped in endless night, doomed to read the same three sentences on page 622 again and again with nothing but your thoughts for company. Until now.

You turn to check the thin green digital numbers on the VHS recorder while Eddie lowers himself to the ground in front of you. “Almost two hours.”

“That’s no good,” he says softly and fumbles with the blanket draped over your legs in search of your skin, nudging the book off balance. It slides down your lap with a soft rustle. Dark, heavy eyes search your face for clues he knows you’re reluctant to give him and a warm palm finds your thigh moments later, an epicentre for violent goosebumps. You shiver and he smiles. “What can I do?”

“Nothing—“

“You underestimate my relaxing properties.” He places a kiss on your knee. “It’s pretty annoying, actually.”

You shake your head. “Don’t want to keep you up—“

“Want me to take over the reading? You just rest and listen—” He lowers his voice to a soft rumble. “—let me hypnotize you.”

“You really don’t have to—“

“Shhh… would you please just let me help?” Without waiting for an answer, Eddie slides the blanket off your thigh and covers it in soft, slow kisses.

“Can’t—“ kiss “go—“ kiss “back to sleep—“ kiss kiss “knowing—“ kiss “you’re out here alone. Suffering.”

His hair is soft between your fingers. You loosen a few small knots while you rake your nails over his scalp.

“Eddie… I…”

It’s exhausting being a ghost, to haunt the wee hours of the night unable to find rest. It was also lonely. There was a hazy barrier isolating you from the people around you. From the man whose company you craved so much but struggled to accept in this circle of hell.

Eddie has had his fair share of sleepless nights, had done plenty of haunting himself; but not like this, not without a trackable cause that offered some degree of sense. And you’d never wish this on him no matter how lonely you get, but sometimes, you find yourself envying him for the way he just falls asleep on any surface most days and with the envy, there comes resentment. The disconnect between resentment and longing a rope binding your hands behind your back, keeping you from reaching out.

Dark eyes are staring holes into your body as Eddie is waiting for you to continue, to give him something.

“You what, sweetheart?” He’s rubbing circles into your skin. “You want me to leave? Like, actually?”

“I don’t want to take my mood out on you…”

“Why not?” he grins. “We could make it fun. Tire you out, air out some of that—“ his hands leave your legs to gesture wildly through the air. The cold creeping in where his warm palms had just rested feels unbearably cruel. You don’t want him to leave. “— some of that pent-up… whatever it is.”

“Okay.”

Eddie’s brows vanish under tousled bangs. “Okay? Shit, I had this whole speech planned about how we’re a team and that you’re being so stubborn is a waste of time—”

“You complaining?”

“No… no…” he smiles and runs his hands up your thighs. “So, you wanna be a little… mean to me?”

“No,” you breathe out. “Don’t want that.”

He hums and nods, leans down and licks your skin; from your knee right up to the hem of your shorts. It’s the slightest touch, just the tip of his tongue, but the sensation sinks into your body like warm summer rain falling onto dry and dusty ground.

“Let me love you,” he mumbles against your thigh, running the tip of his nose along the border of fabric you hide behind. “I hate it when you feel lonely while I’m right here and fucking crazy about you…”

“You’re right here,” you repeat like in a trance. Eddie looks up at you, so soft and wild at the same time and so sincere and you feel the last layer of resistance melt as if it had never existed.

“Right fucking here.”

“Fuck me.”

Warm gentle hands begin to free your legs from the tangle of blankets and you marvel at how much of Eddie’s essence resides in his touch; soft but rough around the edges where his fingertips have put on tough skin over the years. There’s so much love, so much passion lingering in those points where you end and he begins.

Accompanied by the soft rustling of fabric, Eddie runs those storytelling hands up and down your thighs, from the inside to the outside and up to the round of your ass where he ever so slightly puts his nails against your skin and runs them down down down to the back of your knees where he holds on and pulls you further down the cushion. You yelp a little and then you both laugh a little and you lift your hips to aid him rid you of your shorts and underwear.

“M’ gonna try a thing,” he says and spreads your legs just wide enough to fit in between.

“Try w-what?” you ask around a hitching breath as you watch Eddie slide two fingers into his mouth. They glisten with spit when he pulls them out and you can hear a few drops hit the floor as he lowers himself down.

“You know how I sometimes take ice-cold showers to shock spiralling thoughts out of my mind?”

“I… what? AH!”

One long finger enters you swiftly, moves in-out-in-out and is joined by the other. Heat expands like a shockwave through your pelvis as all the blood rushes to greet the pads of Eddie’s fingers. He moves with precision in quick pulsing motions against that soft erogenous spot deep inside you, watching you closely.

“Good?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Not too much?”

“No,” you grit out as your hips start to twitch.

There is no smug little smile, no told-you-so grin, only deep concentration and a bright red blush high on his cheeks and you desperately wish he’d kiss you. That thought is gone and forgotten as that penetrating pulse quickens, deepens and Eddie’s mouth inches closer and closer to your clit. There’s a sharp tingling in your cunt, not quite a sting, not quite pain and it’s hot and delicious and as it spreads out into every corner of your body, the world gets smaller and smaller, shrinks countless miles each second until this sofa is the only place left in the universe.

“Holy shit, holy shit, those noises, sweetheart.”

You can’t hear a thing over the rush in your ears and as Eddie’s lips close around your confused, prickling clit, your eyes roll up and close.

And for an infinite moment, there’s nothing left but ecstasy.

When time starts up again, you’re re-entering the world shaking and gasping. Eddie is quick on his knees. One hand closing around your wrist and the other pressed into your back he pulls you into an embrace that you collapse into like a dying star.

“I love you I love you I love you…” he whispers into your hair and holds you holds you holds you until you feel solid again. “You good?”

You nod and hum.

Hands find your face and guide you up and you remember how badly you need a kiss when Eddie’s lips form pretty words so close to yours. “Now, let me take you to bed and—“ You interrupt him, pressing your mouth to his with desperate, sloppy urgency. He chuckles softly, catching your lower lip with his teeth for a gentle tug before he pulls away.

“Come on,” he kisses the corner of your mouth. “Really wanna continue this.”

“Can’t move… you broke me.”

“Oh, well, pretty sure you broke my fingers with your pussy so we’re even. Get up.”

You laugh and reach for the hand cupping your left cheek; you kiss the palm, run your tongue along his fingers and kiss the tips. “Better?”

Eddie’s brows shoot up and he takes a sharp breath. “Bedroom!”

He scrambles to his feet and pulls you with him. In motion like that, you can feel drowsiness settling in, slowly taking hold of your muscles. Your legs still feel shaky, almost heavy, and Eddie wraps an arm around your waist for the moment it takes you to steady yourself.

“Looks like it’s working,” he says softly.

“Feels like it, too.”

Finally, there is the smug smile you have been waiting for. “And it took me less than two minutes. ”

“You… checked the time?”

“For science,” he says proudly and the smile turns into a grin.

“Ah, science. Alright, Doc,” you reach down, hook a finger into the waistband of his boxers and let it snap. “I’m ready for the next experiment.”

Eddie tilts his head, narrows his sleepy eyes and hums. You can hear the cogs in his mind take up speed and then he sidesteps you and begins to rummage through the mess of blankets and pillows on the sofa.

“What are you doing?”

“Just a sec, you gave me an idea— ha!” He whirls around and shoves The Lord Of The Rings into your hands. Your reaction is tardy and you feel the cover catch on your thumb and bend in a way that probably leaves a crease but you have not time to check because Eddie is quickly maneuvring you to the bedroom.

He sits you down on the bed and swiftly pulls your shirt over your head and you have no choice but to let go of the book. It drops somewhere on the mattress and out of your mind when Eddie flicks on the bedside lamp and strips out of his boxers.

“Never gets old”, you marvel at the sight of him, pale and lean but soft and the smile you just conjured with those words seems nothing short of diabolical with the way the light catches his features from below.

You recede onto the mattress and he follows you like you’re magnetic, crawling after you until he’s back between your legs, kissing his way up your body, taking his time to caress your breasts with his hands and lips. Only when you yawn he stops and comes up to face you, to kiss you and you drink in the sigh of relief that he places inside your mouth as he slides his hard cock against your folds, you hold on to goosebump-covered shoulders as he pushes inside you.

“Never gets old,” he moans as he rolls his hips against you in deep, slow thrusts and kisses your nose when you have to giggle.

You’re not chasing ecstasy now, but wholeness, you’re not searching for a high, but for refuge. All your thoughts slow down while Eddie occupies all your senses.

“How do you feel?” he asks into the soft spot below your ear.

“Good… Sleepy.”

“M’ not saying I told you so—“

A chuckle tickles your skin and suddenly, a bolt of guilt and fear flashes through you. “But we can’t do this every time—“

“Hey!” He lifts his head to look at you, presses a finger to your lips. “Shhh… Don’t go there,” he says and puts his forehead to yours. “Come back… come back to me. I got you.”

“I’m here.”

“You just have to let me in…” He kisses you like he’s sacred you could vanish from beneath him and you swear you can feel his heartbeat reach out for yours, swear you can feel it pound against your chest like it’s begging for entry.

“M’ sorry,” you whisper and sling your arms around his shoulders. “I’m trying.”

And then he moves, slowly pulling his cock from inside you—

“Eddie?”

and stretches long across the bed to grab the book right off the edge.

“On your side,” he instructs and manhandles you into position before you can comply on your own and slides back into your cunt before you can process what’s happening.

“Fuck… oh fuck…” you moan as quick deep thrusts hit just the right spot over and over. You can hear the rustling of pages behind you and Eddie’s chest retreats from your back. “W-what are y- ah you…?”

‘It was not much more than a tall man’s height now…’  he reads the first line from page 622. You try to turn to look at him but he pushes you back. “Nu-uh, relax. M’ going to read to you and I’m going to fuck you till you pass out and maybe then you’ll think of waking me sooner the next time you pick up this book in the dead of night.”

You moan and laugh and there are tears in the corner of your eyes. “You trying to condition me?”

There’s no answer, he just keeps reading; shakily, punctuated in the quick rhythm of his thrusts and laced with moans of his own. You just close your eyes and let go and soon enough you’re close to the edge again.

’We are famisshed, yes famisshed we are, precious,…” he croaks in a toned down, breathy Gollum impression that’s highly confusing and you clutch the sheet, pulling it loose.

“Shit… you gonna make me come…”

After a few more lines he stops reading and you hear the book drop. Eddie presses close to you, softly bites your shoulder while a hand wanders down between your legs to play with your clit.

‘Yess, yess, nice water,’ said Gollum,’ he continues from memory.

“Oh, you asshole,” you groan.

‘Drink it, drink it, while we can! But what is it they’ve got, precious? Is it crunchable? Is it… tasty?’

One strangled moan falls from your mouth and then your insides tense violently. Eddie mercilessly fucks you through it and beyond and doesn’t slow down until he coaxes another orgasm out of you. He follows you this time. You feel him pulse and twitch deep inside of you, feel his hot breath on your shoulder and neck and one stray tear escape the corner of your eye. It runs down the side of your nose while you listen to both your mismatched breathing slow down again.

“I fucking love you,” you babble groggily. “So much… so much…”

Eddie places a kiss on the back of your head and picks the book back up, resuming where he left off. He stays inside you while he softens until he slips out. The distinction between characters fades, the gaps between words grow longer but you barely register it; it’s the sound of his voice that pulls you under into the depths of Morpheus’ realm and you’re finally ready to descend completely…

‘Look here!’ Sam whispered to Frodo, not too softly: he did not really care whether Gollum heard him or not. ‘We’ve got to get some Sleep—' Eddie pauses. “Precious? You asleep?”

Your slow, even breathing is all the answer he gets. He carefully reaches over you and drops the book on the mattress before he turns off the light and wraps his arm around you.

“Gonna find you in my dreams,” he whispers into your shoulder and follows you into sleep.

[sthavoc]

enzo with a girl who loves to read <3 she loves books like crime and punishment, dorian gray, on earth we're briefly gorgeous, etc... she's just such a bookworm and he loves it and is always seen with a book now because of her and he talks about her sometimes to like she recommended a book to him etc...

༼ ；📚 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐒𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃 𝐁𝐎𝐎𝐊𝐒 | ENZO VOGRINCIC

·˚ ༘ pairing: enzo x fem!bookworm!reader

·˚ ༘ summary: headcanons of how you got enzo into reading and him talking about your love for books.

·˚ ༘ warnings: fluff and admiration

·˚ ༘ note: I’m not rlly a big reader but I tried my best. I hope you enjoy! this one is a small blurb

☆ You have always had a love for books, mostly novels, no one could ever catch you without a book in your hands. That’s how Enzo met you. A book in hands and with the same admiration of the words that captured your attention.

“¿Quien es la nena que está con el libro?”

☆ Even the first gift Enzo ever got you was a book, a classic, The Pictures of Dorian Gray. You had already read the book, but you never got the chance to buy your own copy, and of course, after you mentioned it to Enzo he picked up on it and made sure to gift it to you.

“Te brillan los ojitos al leer, entonces te lo compré.”

It was also that the man knew how much you wanted it.

☆ And after months of dating you he even began to get curious as to why, why did you like reading so much? And so he once came up to you in bed while you had a few candles on and was reading a new book that you had just started, titled The Black Tulip. His question made you go on a rant for hours and after he had gotten his answer he began to simply nod along so you could continue talking, and only because he loved the sound of your voice.

After you finished you let him borrow two of your favorites, On Earth We’re Briefly Gorgeous and Crime and Punishment. You were always very careful with your books and would never let anyone borrow them since you feared they would wrinkle the pages or spill something on them, but it was Enzo. You knew he was temperate with his things so he wouldn’t do anything to yours.

☆ After he read the books he understood why you loved them so much. The intrigued of not knowing what could happen next, the way the writer inked their pages, the prompt. The way the words made your heart sink, stop, have you at the edge of your seat. It was amazing.

He even started to read too, during his free time.

☆ When pictures of him would appear on the media, he would carry a book or would be reading one. He seemed at piece just like you would be.

“Look at Enzo reading a book just like his girlfriend. what a bookworm he is now.”

It was true, he had begun to buy books of his own, sometimes your recommendations, one of them being In a Shallow Grave by James Purdy.

��� In one of the podcasts they brought up the question of, what does he do during his free time? And his answer was the obvious—

“Bueno ya llevo rato que me gusta leer. A mi novia le fascinan los libros entonces me prestó unos y los empecé a leer. Ahora llevo uno conmigo a todos lados.”

☆ Also when he speaks about you he does it in a way of admiration. He is so dedicated when somebody brings you up or mentions you. It’s like his favorite question, anything that involves you he loves.

“Se me hace tierno que le fascinen tanto los libros. Ya hasta me los recomienda, se pone muy contenta con el tema.“

☆ You were like his book, the way you would get excited to talk about them, he would get excited to talk about you. You were his reason for excitement. You were his ink on paper.

[haithamuse]

₊˚✧ A KISS SAYS MORE THAN A THOUSAND WORDS.

ft. alhaitham, kaveh, tighnari, cyno

cw. fluff 'n smooches, smidge of angst if you squint for tighnari, cyno's is a lil bit short, intentional lowercase

a/n. esther in her sumeru era (real); first time writing for kaveh n tighnari

ⵌ ALHAITHAM — kissing the worries away

you can find alhaitham with a frown more often than not. it always brings a smile to your face when you see him deep in thought, whether it be due to his research or another book he’s reading. in your eyes, it was kind of adorable. if you were to say it out loud though, he’d just scoff at you, “stop being ridiculous.”

but you don’t deter and instead lean in to plant a kiss on his forehead, the creases on it seemingly melting away. “you’ll get wrinkles if you keep frowning like that all the time”, you giggled.

you never knew that this little action would leave an impact on your lover, but alas — he was full of surprises.

“oh, don’t give me that look.”

“how could i not?” your eyebrows furrowed even tighter at alhaitham’s plea. “this is madness. i don’t want you to get hurt!”

your lover’s gaze softened as he cradled your face with his hands. “you trust me, right?”

“of course i do!”, you replied in earnest without missing a beat.

alhaitham’s lips curled into a smile at your eager confession. he leaned forward to lay his lips on your forehead, the action so full of tender care and love. a simple and yet intimate gesture, with a promise buried within it — that he will come home to you, no matter what.

“then i don’t want to see any wrinkles on your beautiful face when i come home.”

ⵌ KAVEH — kissing in public without any shame, not afraid to show off his love for you

kaveh wears his heart on his sleeve, for better or for worse. while some certain people think of it as one of his greatest weaknesses, to you it’s the thing you love the most.

once you got the news of your job application being accepted, your first thought was to seek out your boyfriend and tell him the amazing news.

kaveh was caught off guard when you ran towards him at full speed, barely being able to catch you as you leapt into his arms. he didn’t have the time to scold you and tell you to be more careful, not when you radiated such vibrant energy and met him with a huge grin on your face. kaveh simply couldn’t do anything but return with a gleeful smile of his own.

“i got the job!”, you exclaimed a little too loud, as the passersby gave you weird looks. but neither of you cared.

“of course you did!” kaveh matched your enthusiasm — he didn’t doubt for a single second that you wouldn’t get it.

he also did not hesitate for the slightest bit as he pressed his lips onto yours. kaveh had no shame, his kisses were always full of vim and vigour. it didn’t matter if you stood in the centre of sumeru’s market amidst a bunch of people — he’d never hold back when it came to his love for you.

“i’m proud of you.”

ⵌ TIGHNARI — kissing you to comfort

forehead kisses were tighnari’s favourite form of showing his love to you. it’s such a simple gesture, yet feels incredibly intimate. he always makes sure to face you when giving them, so even if it’s just a quick peck, it still feels like he’s taking a second to give you his full attention.

when you feel sick or unwell, his entire love, affection and care for you seep through his actions. “stay put”, tighnari orders you in a stern voice. however, his actions are tender and soft as his lips linger for just a second longer on your forehead. “don’t make me come back because collei tells me you’re out and about.”

tighnari’s kisses bring comfort not only to you but to himself as well. you make him feel safe and he wants you to feel the same with him. and how could you not? especially when he holds you in his firm embrace — first planting a kiss on the top of your head and then on your temple, whispering against it in a hushed voice, telling you everything is going to be alright.

ⵌ CYNO — kisses that say ‘i love you’

cyno is a man of few words. it’s not that he doesn’t know what to say, but rather that he prefers to show than tell. the same goes for your love life — you could count on one hand how many times you’ve heard him say ‘i love you’ out loud, but you didn’t mind.

because the way he kisses you tells you enough. cyno kisses you with tender care, yet fiery passion. it’s as if he was drinking out of a glass that’s will break if he got too greedy, dancing the fine line and testing the limits of how far he could go.

he never leaves the house without kissing you goodbye. “i’ll be back by dawn”, sealed by locking his lips with your own — i love you.

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[messysketchyobeyme]

A knock at the door whisked you out of the story of the book you were reading, plopping you back into reality.

“I got it,” you told Solomon, who was sitting across the room. He was working on a new experiment, and you didn’t want to disturb him. When Solomon nodded in acknowledgment, you got up from the sofa and walked over the front door.

You opened it up to see something red covering your vision. You blinked. They were…roses?

“Just take them,” a weak voice came from behind the flowers. It sounded a lot like a certain demon you knew.

You took the bouquet from his hands and peered curiously at the familiar blond-haired demon. The plastic wrap crinkled underneath your fingers. “Satan? What are you doing here?” you asked.

Satan refused to make eye contact with you. His cheeks were uncharacteristically pink. He bit his lip, as though he wasn’t expecting you to ask such a question. “I just wanted to give you a token of appreciation for, you know, putting up with us as our devilsitter. I know it isn’t easy, so I just thought that I’d stop by Cocytus Hall to give you something to, I don’t know, put in your bedroom or something.”

Your nose wrinkled a bit at your title, but Satan didn’t notice. Rather, he was too busy shoving his twitching hands in his pockets to pay any attention to you.

It wasn’t like Satan to blabber on like this. It wasn’t like him at all. It wasn’t like him to come over to Cocytus Hall unannounced, either. You bounced on your heels, giving the flowers a big whiff. “Thank you. They smell lovely.”

Satan made the mistake of glancing up at you. His face reddened when he saw your smug grin. “Don’t think too much into it,” he sputtered.

“I know, I know, but I have to know, why roses? And why did you tie them up with such a pretty bow?” Your index finger toyed with one end of the ribbon that tied the bouquet together. It was a silky green with gold accents, not something you’d find in your local supermarket.

Satan tugged at the sleeves of his sweater. He opened and closed his mouth a few times too many. If he could run away at this moment, you’d bet a bunch of money that he would do exactly that. Too bad that Satan had a smidge of dignity that would prevent him from doing such a thing.

He crossed his arms. “Well, I happen to read somewhere that roses are often used in human c-courting rituals, so I thought it was appropriate.” Satan stole one more look at you before sighing. “I got them from Barbatos.”

You could have pointed out the fact that Satan very much did not ‘happen to read’ anything, but you were feeling nice that day.

“Are you trying to court me?”

“Perhaps.”

You smiled. A nice one this time. “I wasn’t expecting you to admit that so openly.” You laughed softly.

You plucked one of the roses from the bunch. Your thumb brushed against the stem. It was smooth. Someone took the time to cut the thorns off.

You reached out and tucked a tuft of Satan’s hair back. He stiffened up but didn’t pull away. You slipped the flower behind his left ear. “There you go,” you said.

“That’s not fair,” he murmured, “You can’t just give part of my gift back to me.”

“Too bad,” you said, leaning over to give Satan a kiss on the cheek.

[holylulusworld]

Snuggles & Cuddles

Summary: It's the first day of Fall.

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Warnings: cuddling & snuggling, fluff, a/b/o, a/b/o dynamics

“Sweetheart, there you are,” Dean strolls inside the kitchen, a big grin on his face. He stands behind you to sniff at your neck as you try to pour yourself a cup of tea. “You look cold, Y/N. Do you want me to warm you up?”

You giggle. “Dean, no sex. I want a cup of tea, a warm blanket and maybe read a book. We don’t have a hunt ahead and I want to enjoy our free time.”

“I wasn’t talking about sex,” he splutters. You cock a brow. “I swear, sweetheart. Come with me.” Dean pecks your neck. “I’ll get your tea. Just follow me.”

“If you get your dick out, I won’t talk to you for the rest of the day.”

Now he laughs. “You’d love to see little Dean,” Dean holds out his hand, smirking. “Come on. Trust me.”

“I trust you, just not with your dick, Sir,” you quip. “He’s a menace, and you know it, Dean.”

Dean wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you out of the kitchen. “I promise little Dean will behave. Do you know what day it is today?”

You wrinkle your forehead. Crap. Did you forget an important date? You ponder. No. You’d remember if you forgot an anniversary. “No.” You carefully try.

Dean opens the door to your shared room, chuckling. “It’s finally Fall, sweetheart.”

“It is?” you gape at Dean. He knows how much you love Fall, the colorful leaves, and snuggling with your alpha. “So what did you want to show me?”

“I knew you’ll be in the mood for cuddles so-,” he opens the door to your shared room. “Have a look around, Y/N.”

“Dean,” you gasp audibly when you step inside the room. “That’s so beautiful.”

The scent of pumpkin and caramel fills your nostrils. Dean placed candles on the small desk and the nightstands. Fluffy pillows and blankets lie on your shared bed.

“I thought we could have a relaxed snuggle day. Sammy wants to watch a few movies, and Cas is out cold. Angel business, you know.”

“Dean,” you wrap Dean in a tight hug. “You always know what I need.”

“Of course, I know, sweetheart. You’re my omega, and I know you well,” he presses a soft kiss to the crown of your head. “What do you think of the scented candle? The woman at the store said it’s their bestseller.”

“I like it very much,” you sniffle. “Everything is perfect, Dean.” You rub your cheek against his shoulder. “Can we try the new blankets?”

“Get comfortable on the bed, Y/N.” He kisses your hair again. “I’ll get your tea and some biscuits.”

You reluctantly let go of Dean and crawl onto the bed. While you get comfortable on the bed, a warm blanket wrapped around your body, Dean enters the room, your tea, and a plate with biscuits in his hands.

“You good?”

“Only one thing is missing,” you lift your head to look at Dean.

“What’s that?”

“You,” patting the empty side of the bed you look at Dean. “Only you, Dean.”

Dean balances the cup and plate on his hands to place them on your nightstand. He pecks your cheek before crawling onto the bed to lie next to you.

Your alpha barely got the time to sit down before you pounced on him. He’s wrapped in your embrace and a warm blanket seconds later. 

“Now it’s perfect,” you snuggle into Dean’s chest.

“Yeah, it’s perfect…”

Tags in reblog.

[darl-ings]

to you | jeon wonwoo

pairing: wonwoo x reader

genre: fluff

warnings: none

word count: 600

summary: in which you and wonwoo go to bed

a/n: just something to post while i’m writing bigger things. wonwoo i love you if you ever need a thigh to cuddle i got two of them :)

“Do you think I should get a new gaming chair?”

The voice in front of you pulled you away from your book’s pages, your eyes peering over the novel to look at your boyfriend. Wonwoo made a point to let you know that he was incredibly bored, but instead of doing anything about it, he had laid in between your legs and hugged your thigh as if it were a stuffed animal. As endearing as it was, his constant random comments were interrupting your before-bed reading time. 

“You bought that one last year, babe. Unless it’s broken, I think it’s okay,” you told him, watching him nod before nuzzling his face into your inner thigh. You held back a smile, folding the corner of the page you were on before placing your book on the nightstand beside you. Once free, your hands immediately reached out for Wonwoo, one landing on his shoulder while the other ran through with hair. 

“You’re adorable, you know that?” 

Your words made Wonwoo groan, his face once again burying into your thigh. You giggled at his reaction, your hand moving from his hair to his neck, where you gently massaged the tense muscles there. “My adorable little baby.”

“I’m not adorable – or little,” he muttered, lifting his head up to glare up at you. Jeez, he looks like a baby. The urge to grandma-squeeze his cheeks ran through your mind. 

“No, you’re right…. you’re not little. You’re my adorable giant baby. How’s that?”

You noticed Wonwoo try to hold back his smile, his eyebrows furrowing in concentration to not give you the satisfaction of hearing him laugh at your joke. You snorted at the look on his face, patting his neck before leaning back against the headboard. You picked up your book again, but Wonwoo was quick to grab it out of your hands and put it back on the nightstand. Suddenly, you were dragged down to a lying position by your boyfriend before he moved to lay beside you. 

“Time for bed. You have work tomorrow,” he teased, reaching over you to shut the lamp light off. You scoffed, poking his rib cage and hearing him yelp. You cackled, but stopped when he moved to hover over you and his hands began to tickle your sides. You immediately began to beg for forgiveness, Wonwoo giving you a few more jabs before pulling away with a smile. A few moments passed, the pair of you just staring at one another. You had memorized every crevice of his face, every wrinkle around his eyes. He was beautiful. 

“I’m so in love with you,” you admitted quietly, reaching your hand up to brush his hair out of his eyes. It was a bit hard to see in the dark, but the city’s lights gleaming through the window highlighted the small blush growing on Wonwoo’s cheeks. You continued to praise him, slowly getting him to lay down on top of you so you could run your hands up and down his back. Your fingers traced his spine and your lips spilled more words of affirmation that you knew he’d appreciate. Eventually, you felt his heart rate slow and soft breaths escape his lips. His body was slightly slipping off of you, so you maneuvered carefully, moving him to lay beside you with his arm draped across your torso. You mumbled one final bit of praise before pressing a kiss to his forehead.

“I’m in love with you, too,” he mumbled, arm pulling you closer. Soon, sleep began to take over, leaving you and Wonwoo to meet in your dreams.

[newtthetranswriter]

Hello! Can you do Crowley from good omens with an S/O who tends to get distracted really easily, like Crowley will be talking then he'll look beside himself to see you walked of to see something in a window of a shop type of thing.

Paring: Crowley x reader

Word count: 853

A/n: Sorry this took so long I had a very small bout of writer's block but finally worked past it. I hope you enjoy this. Also with Doctor Who being confirmed to exist in the Good Omens world, I believe that people would tell Crowley he looks like Ten and he would deny it saying he is ten times more handsome than him. Any way enjoy requests are still open, and MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DON”T INTERACT.

    Today is a day for relaxing, which means forcing my demon of a boyfriend out shopping with me. Okay actually it’s not so much forcing, more like bribing him with a new house plant. You see, Crowley stopped wanting to join me at the mall because I get distracted easily and he always ends up losing me in the crowd, so to make it up to him I promise him a new house plant if he joins me. 

    After successfully bribing him, we are now walking through the mall. We have spent the last two hours looking at different stores trying to take our time and enjoying our time together. At this moment Crowley was explaining to me that Aziraphale had done something he deemed as stupid, and was trying to get me to agree with him.

    “You don’t understand Love, he thinks everyone takes the time out of their days to iron their pants. Like why would you take the time to do that, they’re just going to get wrinkly from wearing them.” He said, adamant that it was weird to press the wrinkles out of one's clothing. But sadly for him I had in fact become distracted by a shirt in the window of Hot Topic.

     I had walked away completely, forgetting I was out with my boyfriend. It seemed that Hot Topic was having a throwback sale and one of the big items was a Doctor Who shirt featuring the Tenth Doctor. I couldn’t help but go in to get the shirt, Doctor Who is one of my favorite shows and I couldn’t help but realize that my favorite demon and the Tenth Doctor locked fairly similar. 

P.O.V change to Crowley

    “Not to mention he also spends an unfathomable amount of time dusting his books, why would you do that, it’s just a bunch of dead trees.” Crowley turned his head to get his partner’s response, only to realize they weren't by him. “Oh you have got to be kidding me.” He said gritting his teeth in annoyance.

    He had no clue how long they had been missing and so resigned himself to back track looking for the easily distracted person. “Where the fuck did they run off too?” The demon mumbled to himself, irritated that he once again lost track of his partner.

    After looking around for a good ten minutes or so he remembered that Y/n loves to shop at Hot Topic and they likely got distracted by something at the edgy nerd store, and so he made his way to the store. As he walked in he spotted the source of his irritation and walked up behind them as they looked at a wall of funko pops. “Where have you been?” He asked, swinging his arm around their shoulder.

P.o.V back to Y/n

    I jumped feeling someone rest their arm on my shoulder but relaxed as I recognised the voice of my favorite demon. “Oh sorry Crowley, I just saw this shirt and had to get it, then they said there was a deal on funkos and now I can’t pick which ones to get.” I apologized for disappearing and showed him the shirt I picked out. 

    He just rolled his eyes at me and looked at the shirt. “I have told you before I don’t look like him. Why do you insist that I do?” Crowley said, already knowing one of the reasons I picked out the shirt.

    “Yes you do, even Aziraphale thinks so. But that’s not the only reason I’m getting it. I love Doctor Who and finding merch for the older seasons can be difficult if you don’t want to shop on amazon.” I explained to him. I looked down at the couple of things in my hands before I remembered the other shirts I had picked out. “Oh and I also got us matching Queen shirts, I figured since we listen to them all the time you enjoy them, so I thought you would like it.” I told him, showing him the matching shirts.

    “Aziraphale only agrees because he knows I don’t. And thank you, Love, for thinking of me.” He thanked me for the shirt. Now I know he probably won’t be caught dead wearing it out of the house but It’s nice that he isn’t fighting it. “Now let’s pick out the Funko’s and get going, the angel invited us out to dinner.” He said, placing a kiss on the top of my head.

   I smiled at him and finally settled on three Funko’s from Jujutsu Kaisen and headed to the counter. “Ok, but before we go meet with Zira, we have to go to a garden center and get you the plant I promised.” I said as we walked out of the store, with Crowley now holding me to his side so I can’t run off again.

   He just laughed and we kept walking out the mall towards the Bently, marking the end of our ‘relaxing’ day. It was always nice to spend time together even if I tend to get sidetracked.

[xetswan]

The Switch Of Daylight- Birthday Wishes

(Youngest Shadow New Moon)

[One] [Two]

Charlie and I are downstairs, getting the gifts ready right before we make our way up to go wake up Bella.

Or she’s already up we just need to give her these presents. Charlie goes up first with me behind him excited. He knocks on the door once and then enters. “Happy Birthday, Bells.” He says. “Dad, [Name] we agreed no gifts.” She tells us and I roll my eyes. “At least mines is not wrapped.” He hands her a digital camera, “Okay, this is actually kind of great. Thanks, Dad.” She grinned at it, Charlie then gives her another gift, this time it was wrapped.

“Goes with this one, from your mom. We coordinated- well, she coordinated me.” He explains and I smirk as I did hear all their phone calls. “Mines not a part of it.” I hand her mine, “Don’t open it yet.” She nods and places it next to her. She opens the gift from Mom, it’s a scrapbook. “To put your pictures in, record your senior year.” He says then pauses as he thinks for a moment. “Man, senior year. How’d you get old so fast.” He teases her. “Not that old,” Bella mutters. 

“I don’t know, is that a wrinkle.” He jokes but Bella freaks out, racing over to her mirror, searching for the wrinkle. “I was kidding.” He huffs. “So not funny Dad.” She grunts.

Charlie makes his leave and I close the door behind him. “Open my gift.” I grin. “[Name]-” “I don’t want to hear it.” I cut her off, shoving the gift in her arms. I patiently wait as she opens it. There lay two silver bracelets in a box. Had two charms each on both, hers having a dark blue gem then a plate that had the words “Love you, always” engraved into it. Mine had a red gem with the same saying. She smiles and then pulls me into a hug. “I keep forgetting how cold you are now.” She laughs, stepping back and we put the bracelets on one another. “I love it, thank you.” She jingles it around and I snicker, doing it back. 

“I’m glad because I had no idea what to give you. But I wanted to piss you off with a gift.” I winked, and before she could say anything back I was already out the door. 

I rode my motorcycle to school, I had told Angela that I’d give her this book I owned but I kept forgetting. Pulling into the school Angela’s already jogging over to me. “You brought it?” I then let my face drop jokingly, she doesn’t know I’m joking though. “It’s okay if you forgot again-” I cut her off with my own laughter, pulling out the book from my backpack. She sighs and chuckles too, taking the book from me. “I had to.” I bump her and then stand up from my bike. Taking off my helmet and placing it on the bike. I turn back to her with a smile, fixing my hair as well. 

“I miss your septum.” She suddenly says and I raise a brow. She starts to stammer as I patiently wait for her to let it out. “I mean, I didn’t actually mean to say that out loud it’s just um, you got rid of it out of nowhere it was a part of you and now it’s like an empty... Space.” I cross my arms, kind of agreeing with her. “I guess that’s true.” I shrug. I walk her to the others but not even within minutes Bella comes and they rush over to her truck like a flock of geese.

I watch as Bella forces them to take pictures on her new camera, they all have fun with it even though Angela doesn’t like pictures she joins in as well. It was cute. It ended as fast as it started though once that familiar Volvo pulls into its normal parking space. I smirk as their faces falter. “Oh good, Cullen’s here.” I hear Mike say dryly. “Yay,” Jessica adds. They walk back over to where I was. Jessica turns to me “You’re dating the other two but you’re not like obsessed with them.” If only she knew. I shrug, “Too many homophobic and judgy people for that.” They all give me a look. “You know I’m right.” I laugh, I then notice Jacob running towards my sister, Edward seems very irritated. I didn’t even realize the group went away from me as arms wrapped around my waist, lips kissing my shoulder. I take the arms, pulling the person in front of me, I already knew it was Alice. We stood there waiting for Jasper to join us.

 We walk into the school together. Alice and Jasper holding hands. Alice was holding a wrapped gift in her other hand. “Do you think she will like it?” She asks me and I take an annoyed breath. “Bella doesn’t like gifts in general but she will appreciate them.” I was not annoyed with Alice, but more with my sister who acts like she doesn’t secretly like the attention she inevitably will always get on her birthday. We went to the side of the hall, I kiss Jasper’s cheek. “Hey, cowboy.” He scoffs a laugh, rolling his eyes. Ever since he told me his backstory I’ve been teasing him about being a “cowboy”. “Hi, darling.” He whispers for me to hear. I peek over to see Alice staring at us, we look slightly down at her since she is shorter than us. 

I pull her into our arms, she looks up and pecks at my lips. “You know for your birthday you’re going to get spoiled, right?” She tells me in a matter-of-fact tone. “I look forward to everything you wish to give me.” I place my hands on her hips as Jasper then points out that Bella and Edward are walking through the door. As Jasper and I walk slowly Alice skips over to my sister, presenting the present. “Happy-” “Shhh” Alice hugs her, leaning over to her ear and whispering “Birthday.” Over Alice's shoulder, she makes eye contact with Jasper who offers a nod. She pulls back from Alice, trying to hide the gift. “Alice, didn’t I say no gifts?” 

“You did, I didn’t. I’ve already seen you open it and guess what? You loved it!” She excitedly says. “You had a vision about my birthday.” Bella seemed annoyed but I knew she appreciates my girlfriend. “And about the green dress, you’ll be wearing to your party tonight. Great color on you.” She compliments her, also giving away the fact that she’s throwing a party for her. 

“My party?” 

“Please? It’ll be fun.” Alice pleads, I hold Jaspers's hand. “Can I?” He only nods and I drain his energy then focus on Bella who slumps, defeated. Only because I’m controlling her emotions. “I guess I can deal-” “Great! See ya at seven!” Alice hugs her before racing off before she can change her mind. I laugh, squeezing Jasper’s hand as a thank you. “Wait, Jasper, no fair with the mood control.” She pouts and he gives her an apologetic nod. “Wasn’t me,” 

“Was me!” I called, we get dragged off by Alice leaving my sister slightly upset. 

I told Charlie about the party, I was wearing this black suit that Alice requested I wear. Lately, she’s been dressing me in what style she thinks fits me best. Very fancy stuff I might add. I left on my bike to go help finish setting things up.

Getting there I was set to be with Carlisle on some things. I hold my hands behind my back pretending to act innocent. “Do you think I can change without Alice getting upset?” I ask him and he laughs shaking his head. “No, not at all.” We lean against the kitchen counter, watching Alice who is making sure everything is perfect. “I figured.” I take off the jacket to the suit though.

Bella and Edward finally make their way into the house, she’s wearing the exact dress Alice told her about in her vision. I smile, finishing up with Carlisle before heading over to Jasper, giving him a quick kiss. “What was that for?” He asks and I kiss him again. “Just wanted to,” I tell him happily. “You look amazing.” He compliments, I roll my eyes. “I never want to wear a suit again.” He laughs in response. “I’m serious.” “I know you are.” He kisses the top of my head.

Alice comes between us, taking our hands and leading us into the living room. “You two look perfect.” We lean down so she can give us both a kiss. We stand up straight and chuckle at her as she goes to get the lovebirds upstairs. 

The three make their way down the steps, and Bella is immediately embraced by Esme and Carlisle. “Sorry about all this. We tried to rein Alice in.” He humors her. “Like that’s even possible. Happy Birthday, Bella.” Esme steps back with a grin on her sweet face. I notice Alice holding up a camera right as she clicks it to go off. The flash startled my sister a tiny bit. “Found it in your bag. You mind?” She asks, Bella shakes her head no as in she doesn’t mind. 

“Dating an older woman. Hot.” Emmett speaks up to Edward. I hide my face in Jaspers's shoulder laughing. “What?” He asks defensively after Edward had elbowed him. 

Rosalie then steps up, handing Bella a silver package. “It’s a necklace. Alice picked it out.” She walks away. Short. Not sweet. But short.

Bella finally looks over to Jasper and I. She waves and I know it’s for him, he does it back and I smile, proud of him. Alice snaps a picture of him and I then back to Bella. “Show me the love!” Edward pulls Bella into an embrace, they look deeply into one another's eyes. Another flash. “For your scrapbook. Now open your presents.” She drags the girl over to a table with a pile of gifts, a huge cake, and a stake of chine plates. 

“Alice, I’m the only one who even eats.” She motions to the huge cake. “Hope your hunger. Here, this one’s from Emmett.” Everyone crowds around, I stand in front of Jasper. Bella opens it to see an empty car radio box. “Um… thanks?” She looked up, confused. “Already installed it in your truck.” He proudly states.

“Finally a decent sound system in that piece of-” “No hating on the truck. Thank you, Emmett.” Bella smiles then Alice hands her another gift. “Open mine.” Bella starts to open it then she cuts her finger on the wrapping. “Ouch, paper cut.” Blood appears and I feel Jasper tense and I get pushed aside. “No!!” I shouted as he lunges at my sister. Edward flings Bella behind him causing her to crash into the table. The plates shattered beneath her. I run over to her as Edward shoves Jasper into the wall but he ricochets off it and comes back at Bella. Emmett along with Carlisle tackles Jasper to the ground, Alice holds him whispering to him to comfort him.  I groan at the scent of her blood, trying to help her. My jaw tensed.

Bella lifts her arm up and a pool of blood leaks out. I grunt, getting her to stand up. “I need to get out of here,” I say through gritted teeth. Accidentally pushing her onto Carlisle I storm out of the house. Not even moments later Emmett and Rosalie bring out Jasper. 

I stare at him, draining his energy, his snarls coming to a complete stop. The two let him go and he falls to the ground as he’s losing more and more control of himself. I don’t even realize how far I am going. “[Name]! Calm down!” Alice shoves me back and I stumble back. He lays there collecting himself. “He- My sister. I am not sorry!” I rub my face, and looking back at him I notice dark circles under his eyes. 

“I didn’t mean to go that far.” I bow my head down. “I forgive you, I need the night to myself and my sister though,” I tell them both, frowning at the sight. I go back inside and Edward was waiting outside of the door where Bella was getting cleaned up. 

“You hurt her.” I spit out, his eyes glancing up at me. “You have brung nothing but trouble to our lives,” I tell him with sincerity. “I wouldn’t have been a monster if it was for you entering her life.” I point a finger at his chest, but he doesn’t respond. “I am angry that I now have to risk her life just from a cut.” I shove him into the wall. “You will fix this.” I furrow my eyebrows angrily at him, pushing him further into the wall right as the door opens. I step back. “I’m driving you home.” I grab her by the arm, she tries to get out of my grip but I don’t allow it.

“[Name]!” “Enough! You will go home with me and that is final, Bella!” I shout at her, “Enough with this game and risking your fucking life!” I scream, she finally drops down defeated and we step outside. All of the Cullens are watching, Rosalie is even tense from the scene. I let Bella climb in and I slam the door. 

“You all think about this night. Think about how you’re putting my sister in danger.” I speak just loud enough for them to hear me and not her. “Am I clear?” I fold my arms. They only nod in response. “I will talk later.” 

So this one is a little shorter than my last few but wanted to end this chapter here or else the next one would've been way too long for my liking. Also, Alice's height is 4'10 in the book so that's what I'm basing it off of. Jasper is 6'3 and I'm making [Name]'s 5'6 medium height bitch. I kind of got writer's block. Well not really, I can write the story in my notebook but I can't get it all on my computer because I get a little bored after a little bit. It takes me longer to come up with ideas when I'm typing compared to actually writing it might be weird but it's what I do.

[dozing-marshmallow]

hi! i was wondering if you could write duncan and courtney dating headcannons with a fem reader on the show? (separate) if not that's ok!

Awww no, it is okay! Thank you so much for the request, enjoy!<33

DATING COURTNEY HEADCANONS

From what we know about Courtney, it wasn’t hard to guess that her type was someone contrasting her.

So you were a bit of a cheeky contestant.

Okay, “a bit” was an understatement. Courtney didn’t like to admit it, but she found jubilation in your many ploys on the show.

Because of them though, she’d be on the assumption that you weren’t taking the competition seriously (even though you weren’t actually there to win the money), but you appreciate her reminding you to focus on the game and her helpful tips.

She wouldn’t want to openly say you guys are in a relationship as she’s aware that some people may try to exploit that for their own motives, but makes it clear that you’re off limits.

At night, you often share a bunk with her. Courtney would insist to be the little spoon, all the way through to the morning with her head on your chest.

Your darling Princess!

She loves sharing school stories with you.

“They actually had to rush her to the ER! Can you believe the manners some people have? How much of a litterbug do you have to be to throw your juice box out of a window from the fourth floor? We have bins for a reason!”

“Woah... So your teacher got a concussion from someone doing that?”

“Yeah! It sounds pathetic, but it’s what happened! The school assigned me to be in charge of delivering work from her and delivering notices to her. Makes sense since I was the only qualified student to take up that responsibility while still ace all my classes!”

She’s also fond of discussing hair with you and you play with hers and vice versa.

You like giving her little plaits, ponytails or a bun as high as it can go.

Additionally, she tries persuading you to do karaokes with her.

“It’s way better if we don’t have any instruments! You have nothing to hide behind and we’ll get used to being vulnerable with each other!” she smiled when she said it.

Looks like that couldn’t apply to her,“Oh, man...”

Though she’s a perfectionist, she loves complimenting you a lot.

“If you took that cap off your head and wore a headband instead, you’d look even more adorable! Would you do it for me at least?”

And her occasional feedback.

“What do you mean you haven’t read a single book this entire year!?” she jumps to her feet, horrified.

“Courtney, relax! It’s not a big deal.” you try to assure her with a grin.

She was more shaken at your presumably clueless behaviour to reading,“No, it is a big deal! You can’t just have everything on the outside and nothing in here!” she taps a tense finger to the side of her head,“My girlfriend’s gotta have brains with her beauty! I’m not dating no dummy!”

So she ordered you to sit down on the entrance steps of the Killer Bass cabin while she searched for a novel to give you- girl brought ten.

Out of her choices, she decided to provide you with Mercy Among The Children.

“There!” she hands you the clean copy, no crease or wrinkle, like all brand new,“You will read all of that and when you’re done, you will answer ten summary questions that I came up with to show me how much you learnt. And I will know if your answers are accurate, because I happened to give a presentation on this very book! I did it with ease thanks to my experience as a CIT.” her CIT talks got tedious very quickly, however if it made her happy, you didn’t want to take that away from her.

Therefore you gave something of your own instead,“What if I don’t know how to read?” you knew such question would aggravate her.

She shakes her head in disbelief, perfect autumn hair swaying,“Oh, you’re gonna have to do a lot better than that! You read the fine print of the contract to participate, didn’t you?”

Nope, but let’s pretend you did.

After a few seconds of “reading”, you call her name, to where she sat next to you, watching.

“What’s on your mind now?”

“I uh...” you turn to the back of the book, eyes scanning over the blurb,“Kinda don’t like the voice in my head narrating this. Could you read it to me?”

It seemed this request had halted her brain for a moment as she had stared at you with eyelids split apart again before her loving reprimand frolicked in the air,“Are you crazy? (Y/N), you know I love you, but I can’t do that! You gotta do this on your own, get used to reading in your head! How will you do in an exam when you have to stay quiet? I refuse to hear you getting disqualified over something as little as that!”

She’s so irresistible when she gets worked up,“Then I’ll transfer to your school so I can hear your voice everyday and be sure to pass my next exam.”

Her aim to lecture you had evaporated,“Oh wow...“ her eyebrows sprung back and she couldn’t believe herself for laughing at your not so futile charm,“Okay okay, just this once!” she declares, gently taking back the novel with both hands so it was still open.

As Courtney’s elegant voice embellishes the passage written down on the pages, you make promise to yourself to continue reading it in your own time.

After all, you know she’s just looking out for you.🤎

DATING DUNCAN HEADCANONS

You thought he asked you out as a joke, but he was serious.

Serious in love.

And he loved to be open about it. Not with words, but with his arm around you, calling your name.

He sprayed your hair for a day to see how green would look on you, however you got worried when it didn’t come out.

He would share stories from juvie and usually had an edible treat to give you as you talked. You always thought he had brought a stash of sweets, but looking at his luggage, you realise there was no way any high caliber food could survive in it.

“Mm, thanks Duncan! Where did you get this from?”

He winked,“Don’t worry about it.”

So you didn’t.

Duncan’s surprisingly very good at drawing; you use that talent as a couple’s activity.

He also likes drawing his initials on your arms with a marker, never forgetting to add a skull.

Loves playing with your hands and placing his one on your leg.

Sometimes you wear his shirt or use it as a blanket.

While Duncan wouldn’t really like to hug in public, he’d do gestures like rubbing your head or squishing your face.

He fantasises you someday getting a matching piercing, since you refuse to let him give you one.

“This nose piercing wasn’t painful, like a lot of wet wussies say, but it is a bit uncomfy for a few days. You sure you don’t want me to pierce ya? It’s free of charge~”

The treatment for the infection won’t be,“No thanks! I might decide to pierce my ears!”

“Ear piercing?” his face scrunched like the choice was boring, but his voice held hope,“Where exactly?”

“The lobe would be nice... But I’d also want to get one on the inside! Like industrial!”

“Now you’re talking.” Needless to say, he approved of those ones.

Duncan’s a night owl, so found his favourite part of the day being at night, when everyone else was certainly asleep. You two would go out to a different part of Camp Wawankwa every time to breathe in the wildlife air and have conversation crafted for the dark.

The first nights, you were hesitant. Your chest was tight. It was hard to enjoy the secluded moment with Duncan when your mind was racing with panic.

“Oh Duncan... What if someone sees us? I don’t wanna get in trouble...”

“We won’t. We’re not doing anything wrong.” his calm tone of voice somewhat helped, head swivelling to the closest functioning camera duck tapped on a tree,“The worst Chris’ll do is tell us to go back inside, though knowing him, he probably doesn’t care.”

You trace a finger on his chest,“I wish I could sleep with you in your cabin. But the girls would be suspicious if my bed was empty, and let’s not talk about what the guys would do.”

“Keen, huh?” his unibrow forms a squiggly line as one of the separate eyebrow bones upreared, making you push him gently out on exposed instinct,“I’m pretty sure everyone knows about us by now and the guys would be fine if you crashed in for a night or two.”

“I know...” Duncan’s friends were nice guys. When they wanted to be,“I just don’t wanna make anyone uncomfortable.”

His laugh gets clogged by his nose,“You? Make anyone uncomfortable? Babe, trust me, unless your name starts with H and ends in arold, you don’t gotta worry about being alienated. If it means that much to you, we can wait until more people go home for us to share a bed.”

Ohh! You had forgotten about the competition and how it worked! Love makes you forget about the everyday things like the collection of the fires supplementing the sky just being rocks floating in space,“Until more people go home... How...will we make sure it’s not us?”

“Welll. I like you so that’s one less person to vote for you.” he starts,”The rest of the guys like you so you can count them out. Now for the chicks... Anyone you think wants you gone?”

Instantly, someone came to mind,“Heather,” your boyfriend makes gagging noises at the name, vining a smile on your lips,“Ever since I turned down her offer to join her alliance, I must’ve ended up on her watch list. Sure, we can act civil, but I can tell she’s impatiently waiting for my elimination.”

He snorts, brushing his hand on your back,“Seriously? Chicks hold a grudge over anything! Well, that alliance of hers can’t be doing so good when one of her so called members don’t even like her, so it’s not like you’re missing out on anything.”

“True... I get to enjoy the Duncan instead,” you look into his blue vision for that, seeing his irises sprout in ardour. You leave a tangible mark of your lips on his, finding your eyes wondering to a large robust tree not so far away from where Duncan held you,“I wonder... Do you think we could secretly build our own secret treehouse?”

“Up there?” he follows your gaze and whistles,“It is possible... All I’ll need are some tools to steal from Chef and it’ll be there in no time.”

“Duncan!” his romantic selfless take on your suggestion is piled over by his out of place mention of Chef’s inventory, which clicks something to your attention,“Is that...where you’ve been getting the snacks from?”

An unbeaten chuckle rippled out of his ribs, how carefree he was,“Looks like the cat got outta the bag!”💚

[feitania]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞; 𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐢𝐞𝐝

𝖘𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: it doesn't matter if you're not their biological younger sibling -when you decided to move in with the haitani brothers you sealed the deal with the devil and now you're the owner of one over-protective beauty queen who always needs to be in your buisness and a messy sports nerd who plays his awful mixtapes all day long. You still love them, even if you would like a break from their weird habit to gatekeep you from time to time. Or; how the haitani brothers would act if they had a younger (not blood related) sibling who just wants to have a date

𝖈𝖍𝖆𝖗𝖆𝖈𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖘: Haitani Ran, Haitani Rindou

𝖓𝖔𝖙𝖊𝖘: after the new character book came out I couldn't stop thinking about them being so human and dumb -I love my awkward boys so much.

Can you guess who your date is in this story?

Reader is gender neutral but wears a dress here.

Part two

𝖜𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: Ran being the absolut worst, cursing, threats of violence, Ran-centric, dialoug heavy, slight slut shaming if you squint but also not really

The first thing you noticed when you joined the Haitani household and their spacious apartment was that there was always something to do.

From picking up the empty bottles and snacks from one of Rindou´s parties to cold washed clothes blocking the bathtub, waiting to be dried.

Your first instinct was to clean up their mess but after the third time of Ran just dumping his laundry in front of you -seemingly getting a little too comfortable with leaving the clean up to you- you snapped, resulting in a screaming match between you and Ran while Rindou sat on the couch terrified of the both of you.

Throughout the years you learned it was useless to try running after them, they would eventually clean up when they had to, even if it was only because the place got so messy Rindou couldn´t find his glasses anymore and Ran was unable to sit down without wrinkling one of his expensive designer clothes.

When Ran comes home today though, he is greeted with the unusual sight of you buzzing through the kitchen, washing the dirty and already clean dishes while listening to music. In general, the apartment looked more tidied up than when the brothers first moved in, only having two beds and a few boxes to fill the apartment.

something is wrong.

His mood sours a little. You´re not allowed to have fun without him knowing.

You turn around to greet him when you hear the front door slam shut but stop when you see his distasteful look.

The taller one looks you up and down before pointing at you.

“What is that?” he asks, still gesturing up and down your body.

“That´s my body ran”

“Shut up, that is not what I meant”

You raise a brow and cross your arms, looking at your brother with the same hostility he gives you.

Ran comes into the open kitchen space and leans against the bar counter, still giving you a judgemental stare.

“Well, what do you mean?”

“What are you wearing?”

“A dress.”

“That´s not a dress,” he scoffs, “that´s a shirt.”

you look down at yourself to eye the dress you wear.

At the same moment, Rindou appears in your vision, trotting through the living room past you and ran with a tired look and half-closed eyes, slumping down on a bar stool and resting his head on his folded arms.

“Nice dress,” he murmurs and gives you a thumb up.

Ran hisses.

Not finding anything wrong with the piece of clothing you wear you look up again with an annoyed expression.

“what´s your problem with it exactly?”

“It´s too short,” he explains matter of factly, like it´s as obvious as the color of the sky.

Sometimes his confidence makes you want to tug one of his braids until it rips off -knowing ran though he would probably kill you before you´re even close enough to touch it.

“What do you mean it´s too short, it´s totally normal! The girls you bring home wear worse things.”

Rindou snorts while his older brother grimaces at the comparison.

“I don´t want my siblings to look like whores,” the dark-haired challenges sharply, straightening up to probably assert dominance or something, you don´t know.

Ran tends to get irritated when people don´t listen to what he says immediately and subconsciously tries to over-power them with dramatic body language. Sadly it´s a trait his brother also started doing a lot lately.

“But big bro, you look like a whore most of the time too,” Rindou quips from where he is slumped over the table but his violet eyes still perk up to look for rans reaction, which doesn´t come.

The other ignores his brother in favour of changing his pose to a more patronizing one, hand on his hip.

“Rindou,” you start and turn to the blonde, now trying to look innocent and helpless, “please help me out here.”

“What do you want me to say?” He finally sits up more and adds “where are you going anyway?” after a short silence.

“I´m going on a dat-“

“No.”

You blink. Ran blinks back. Rindou snickers from behind.

“No?” You repeat dumbfounded before the word and implication goes through your head completely.

“What do you mean no?” you ask, scandalized at the audacity of your brother, the brother who went to juvie with 13 and spends most of his time fighting little kids.

“No as in you´re not going. Especially not on a date.”

He sounds calmer now, more serious.

“Oh my god, are you serious now, Ran?” You laugh aghast giving the blonde Haitani a I can´t belive this look to get some back up from him.

“Is he serious, Rin?”

“Don´t try to involve me in this.”

Rindou gets his phone out, empathizing his lack of interest and wish to be left out of this. While Ran is weak against your and Rindou´s puppy eyes and spoiled wishes Rindou is, in turn, unable to refuse or stand up to his brother. At all.

You have seen Rindou lock himself into the bathroom to avoid a conversation with a moody Ran before.

“Why don´t you want me to go on a date?”

“You´re too young.”

“I´m an adult?!”

“And?” Ran throws his arms up -dramatically again- nearly pushing over an empty wine bottle and hurriedly catching the it mid fall with his left arm, the right still in the air.

“We could tag along,” the younger suggests without really meaning it when you whine at Ran but you shake your head.

“Absolutely not.”

“Why not? Are you ashamed of us?” now the blonde one is openly mocking you, either not seeing the problem with the whole situation or simply too used to it to care.

“Rindou!” you whine again.

Ran stays silent for a minute, seemingly thinking long and hard about something before he asks “who are you going on a date with?”

You stop in your tracks flabbergasted, the curse words prepared for your brothers die in your throat. You didn´t think Ran would ask a smart question, if you were honest.

“Uhm… he,” you start unsure then stop yourself, “wait it´s none of your business with who I am going out with. Why do you wanna know?.”

It´s true. You are your own person and it shouldn´t matter -still the real problem lies indeed in who is taking you out. There was no chance in hell Ran or Rindou would let you even be in the same room as your date if they would know who it is.

“There are a lot of bad guys out there, you know,” Rindou says still busying himself with his phone.

“He isn´t. Believe me. You both even know him,” you try to sooth your brothers unsuccessfully -Rindou just snorts, still not looking up from his phone and Ran gives you a pitiful look.

“Darling, everyone we know is a bad guy.”

Touche.

You turn around to get yourself a glass of water, trying to gather your thoughts and avoid the possibility of Ran sabotaging a date you waited months for just because he couldn´t handle that you weren´t a kid and attached to your brothers´ hips anymore.

“Okay but,” you try anew and come closer, resting your elbows on the bar counter facing both Rindou and Ran, “you two can´t tell me you aren´t the bad guys you warn me about every chance you get.”

Both want to say something but you leave them no room, your new tactic now is giving them no time to recover for an answer. “You also surround yourself with said bad guys.”

“We only introduced you to the Tenjiku executives though.”

“Yeah, see? You let Izana talk to me too. And he isn´t exactly an angel.”

“We don´t let him take you out on date though,” Rindou comments helpfully and his older brother nods along.

You don´t think it´s the right time to mention that Izana kissed you last year at Rindou´s birthday party.

Or that he did it again a month ago at Ran´s birthday.

You stand up. Ran follows your movement, ready to pounce and drag you away from the front door you were eyeing the whole time.

“You can´t lock me up here, Ran.”

“Watch me.” He has never looked so sure of something in his life.

“That´s kidnapping!”

“Do you think we are above that?”

You let out a frustrated “let me go!” and throw the wine bottle Ran secured earlier against the wall in anger, watching with a little satisfaction how the glass breaks. Rindou´s eyes widen at the mess next to him but Ran stays unimpressed. It´s not the first nor last time one of you three throws stuff around in a fit.

“No.”

“You are so patronizing!” Another bottle makes it´s way over Rindou´s head to the wall.

“No, I´m not!” He matches your voice now, standing straight and puffing his chest out like an angry bird.

“Yes, you are, Ran. Last week you didn´t even allow Rin to get a nose ring.”

“Because I didn´t trust the piercer! He was obviously not qualified for his job.”

“Ran,” the blond Haitani finally addresses his brother directly with a little more life in his voice, “we literally got our first tattoos in a back alley.”

“Well,” Ran starts, stops, opens his mouth to continue and closes it again. He scoffs instead.

Just when you want to start throwing another bottle the ringing of a phone fills the kitchen. You peer up to Rindou who shakes his head.

“Not mine,” he mouths. Ran´s eyes zoom to your dress pocket. Slowly, you get your phone out -it was indeed the one ringing- and answer the call.

“Hey babe, I´m outside. Want me to come up to get you?” a smooth and dark voice greets you and you have to suppress the big smile creeping up on your face.

“No, no. I´m coming down now.” You hang up, deciding to not entertain Ran and Rindou with this non-essential conversation anymore.

Leaving them both in the kitchen you take your bag and grab a jacket, ignoring Ran who is hot on your heels and Rindou following him like a lost baby duck.

“ I said you can´t just go. I will kill this guy,” he tries again. You sigh.

Why is he like that, you ask yourself silently but deep inside you know why. Ran is a helicopter-mom. Always was and always will be.

“Oh really?” You amuse him, “and how do you wanna do that?”

He gives you an empty look before walking over to the couch table where his baton lies, picking it up and weighting it in his hand pensively. This is getting ridiculous.

“I don´t know yet but I have a few things in mind.”

He tries to be intimidating, he really does. But after years of living with him and seeing how he sleeps with silk eye-masks and a sleeping satin bonnet you are sure that only god could make you feel fear now.

“See you later Ran. Bye Rin” smiling, you turn around and open the door but Rindou is faster, blocking the way. You raise a brow.

“At least wear this,” he murmurs, pushing a long coat into your arms, “so no one can look under your dress.” Rolling your eyes you take the coat.

“Thanks.”

Running down the stairs of the building you hope to get to your date fast enough before Ran could change his mind and run after you -trying to out run him is a lost battle, really.

And when you finally escape the overbearing hell of your brothers´ love, your dates already waits for you, sitting on his bike and smoking.

When he spots you, he jumps off the cheetah patterned front seat and opens his arms with a big, charming smile on his face.

“Hey, dove. Glad you got out in time.”

His voice is so nice, especially when he hugs you tight and plants a little kiss on the top of your head.

“Oh don´t worry, as long as they don´t see you here y- “You can´t finish your sentence when a loud scream sounding vaguely like no from above startles you and your date.

When you two look up you tense, identifying the source of the scream as Ran, hanging from the balcony like he wants to jump any moment.

“Y/N get back up here now! Not him! Not this guy,” Ran yells down. Your date laughs and waves up to your brother.

“Hello, nice to see you again,” he greets cheekily and gets a “fuck you” back from Rindou, who seems to keep Ran from falling off the railing.  

“Oh fuck,” you curse, “go, go, go, go, go!” trying to get your date to hurry you push him towards his bike and climb behind him, just in time when Ran disappears, probably planning to get after you.

When the tall guy in front of you doesn´t start his absurd colored motorcycle straight away you slap his arm.

“Damn, Babe, so bossy,” he jokes but finally starts the bike, driving away before your brothers could catch up to you.

[abiiors]

Book

So excited to do (write) anything that you want to! week with prompts from @imightgetbetter. Adding all of these to my Series Masterlist

Monday - early matty (pre-notes/bfiafl)

In a small corner of a dusty, second-hand bookstore, two hands reach for the same book at the same time. Fingers brush against each other, electricity zings, all the usual ingredients of a meet-cute, except the boy is on a mission. 

‘I’m going to sound like a twat here,’ he shuts his eyes tightly then opens them with a sigh, ‘but I need that book more than you.’

You feel a bit dumbfounded. At least, he has the decency to look embarrassed but the fact remains that he still hasn’t let go of the book. 

‘Oh?’ you ask, still gathering your bearings, ‘you don’t even know what I need it for?’

‘I knowww,’ he groans, ‘but please! I need it back.’

You look at the boy properly. He truly does look desperate for the book. His face is all pouty and his eyes big, his hair sits like a curly, poofy mop on his head. You wonder if this look is supposed to work on people, if it has worked on people in the past. 

Maybe, maybe not. And as much as you don’t want to admit it, it is working on you a little bit. Okay, maybe a lot!

‘You need it…back?’ you give him a quizzical look. 

‘I need it back,’ he confirms. 

‘You see,’ he continues like he’s about to start a soliloquy, ‘my roommate got really drunk or really high, it doesn’t matter, my roommate got fucked up and decided to sell my books for some extra cash. Yes, yes I know, messed up but now I’m here to try to get as many of them back as possible.’

You open your mouth, about to say something, but he’s not done speaking. 

‘Please, I’ll buy you a new copy of this but not this one. This one has some…annotations.’

His face turns pink. His eyes wander a bit, unable to meet yours. And you have to admit, he has almost won you over. 

‘What’s your name?’ You bite your lip, hold back a smile.

‘Matt,’ he says, clearing his throat, ‘Matty.’

‘I don’t need a new copy, Matty. I just needed to check a few passages, that’s all.’ 

‘Oh.’ It’s a soft sound like he’s contemplating. ‘Well, in that case…’ he trails off and holds the copy in front of you. 

His copy of On The Road by Jack Kerouac is old and a bit wrinkled. The pages are yellowing and the spine is cracked but you have to admit, it looks well read. Well loved, even. 

‘I just need to jot down a few things,’ you tell him and he nods. 

When you settle down on the floor, a notebook and pen in hand, he does the same. You wonder if this is to snatch the book away if you stumble upon any of his annotations. He could wander around the bookstore while you did your thing but he wraps his hands around his knees and rest his chin on them. He’s not exactly subtle when he lets his eyes roam over you with barely concealed interest. 

‘What’s this for?’ he tilts his head to one side, and then as an afterthought, adds, ‘if I may ask.’

‘A paper on road trip novels,’ you answer distractedly as you flip through the page to find what you need. 

There are a few pencil scribblings here and there, quotes that are underlined and circled over and over again. There are doodles—few and far in between—but they make you smile a bit. You so badly want to stop and read the annotations but not when he’s sitting right there, watching you like a hawk. 

While you note down the things you need to, Matty gets restless. He picks up a pen and twirls it between his fingers effortlessly, picks up a second one and bangs them on his shins like drumsticks. The boy truly can’t sit still even when he lets you work in peace…for the most part. 

But you’re surprised that you don’t find it annoying. If anything, his fidgety restlessness is amusing. The way he stops every time you turn pages, the way his fingers twitch at his sides, ready to hide anything embarrassing. You feel tempted to linger on one of his notes just to watch how he’d react but they seem to have petered out as the book slowly comes to an end. 

You want to imagine this boy, in his bedroom or in a cafe or in a park, reading the book. His hands clutching it tightly, his face scrunched in concentration. He would be so absorbed that he forgets to note down any more of his thoughts. But something catches your eye as you turn to the penultimate page. 

Black ink has bled through. Until now, everything was in pencil, smudged, messy script but with a touch of gentleness. But this is much harsher, written in pen. 

His eyes widen, his hands freeze in place. Quicker than expected, he drops the pens and flips the page. 

‘What…’ he grabs the book in confusion and you let him take it away from you. His face changes from confusion to irritation, to gloom, to, finally, curiosity. 

His eyes dart over the dark scribblings. A crease forms between his eyebrows as he tries to make sense of the words. 

‘Wow, these are mental,’ he mumbles to himself. ‘God, these make no sense.’

‘I thought they were yours,’ you raise an eyebrow. 

‘No, someone else must have... Mine are much tamer compared to these.'

The curiosity gets the better of you and you have to ask, ‘can I see?’

‘Mmm, sure.’ He extends the book in your direction still holding onto one half of it. 

So you scoot closer, hold onto the other side. Your thighs touch momentarily, your heads are bent over it as both of you try to decipher the script. 

‘1 June, The 1975,’ you read aloud, trace the words with your fingers. ‘That’s a bit of a weird way of writing it.’

‘It is, isn’t it!’ He taps the space under the words, then tips his head back onto the shelves behind him. 

‘The 1975…’ he repeats and his voice has gone all soft and full of awe. ‘Has a nice ring to it, wouldn’t you say?’

[bungowife]

I’ve been following your art for a long time and I was just wondering what do you use as inspiration for your stuff, and do you have tips for people who kind of want a cartoony stretchy and very expressive art style (sorry if this is too much to ask I just love your stuff! Also what do you use to draw your stuff)

Thank you!!! Nice to see long-time followers :3

When I was first learning how to draw cartoons I bought the book Cartoon Animation by Preston Blair. It's a really good source that covers all the basics + some animation. When I started animating as a high school freshman I copied his walk cycles before trying anything on my own

This is a very old mini guide I made for a friend on how I push poses so the art's a little outdated but the idea is the same... I think line of action is neat lol I try to make the character follow the line as much as possible with the only thing that might break the silhouette being appendages like tails etc

My personal rule for expressions is that it just has to look like an exaggerated version of a real expression a human could actually do. To me it's not as appealing when artists add wrinkles in random places with no forethought, faces stretch around the eyes and mouth and chin and that's where I usually place wrinkles

I take inspiration from a lot of shtuffs these are just the ones I can think of right now:

-Fleischer cartoons. Favorite 30s studio besides Van Beuren

-obviously 90s cartoons, for Smokey my main inspiration is Twisted Tales of Felix The Cat and Pat Ventura's shorts for Oh Yeah! Cartoons. Animation wise I try to do something similar to season 2 of Space Goofs and Cats Don't Dance

-90s 2d point and clicks. Two big favorites are Toonstruck and UFOs

-anything by Ralph Bakshi. Fully aware it's bad lol but Cool World is one of my favorite movies ever

-underground comix but specifically 80s/90s newave stuff

-music!!! I like psychobilly and ska and it helps me draw. Massive Frank Zappa fan too

I think it's good to vary what you take inspiration from. When I started drawing cartoons I didn't let my myself improve because I only took inspiration from 30s and 90s cartoons and was so bent on perfectly replicating it that I didn't develop my own style. I see a lot of cartoonists blend together because they're only influenced by ren and stimpy and looney tunes that they don't have their own voice or bring anything new to the table

I recently just switched to my relatively new ipad so I'm using Procreate and then Procreate Dreams and Toonsquid for animation. Since 2020 I had been using Firealpaca and pencil2d because they were both free. I used a screenless Gaomon tablet I got for 30-40 dollars. I do all my sketches on paper and then airdrop them to myself since my hand doesn't move as naturally when sketching on a screen

[onceuponaoneshotfanfic]

Everything Will Bring a Chain of Love

Request: "It would be so fun if you name it after me!" "No, it wouldn't." where it’s one of the Greyhounds other than Jamie trying to convince Roy and the wife of your choosing

I already miss Roy and Bucky, so this is a little blurb about their sweet future together!

0.8k words Warnings: Language, pregnancy, absolute fluffffffffffff

Something There Masterlist

“To Baby Kent!” Jamie called out at the end of his little speech- the one Roy begged him not to do and Bucky insisted on- and raised his glass.

“Baby Kent!” everyone gathered in the Kents’ backyard echoed, amid shouts of laugher and little cheers.

It was a bit of an unconventional baby shower, Roy admitted to himself. Rather than a party populated by women in summery dresses sipping lemonade and cooing over baby clothes, Bucky’s baby shower was attended by athletes who drank beers and took the shower games a bit too seriously.

Roy turned to his wife now, wrapping an arm around her. “How is Baby Kent?” he hummed as he pressed a kiss to her temple.

Bucky smiled and dragged Roy’s hand down to her round belly. “Kicking up a storm,” she said with a playful eyeroll. “She’s already training for the 2040 Olympics.”

“I am never going to win an argument again,” he growled playfully, “when both of you have Olympic gold.”

Her laughter warmed his heart. “Would you have it any other way, Kent?”

Before Roy could assure her that no, he absolutely fucking wouldn’t, the couple found themselves dragged over to a corner of the yard where several Greyhounds and Whippets were gathered. Roy felt got a fuzzy little feeling in his chest as he gazed at the assembled group, his weird little family. This was the life he and Bucky had built together, a life filled with these big smiles from people who were tied together by a love of football. A life where these same people came over for dinners, travelled to matches and holidays together, and now came to his and his wife’s baby shower. It was something he wouldn’t have imagined before Bucky, and something he now couldn’t imagine his life without.

Isaac spoke up, interrupting Roy’s musings. “Alright, we’re tired of waiting,” he announced. “Coach Buck said you guys still don’t have a name for Baby Kent, so we’ve come up with some ideas for you guys.”

“Oh, this should be good,” Bucky snorted, tugging Roy close to herself. Roy simply chuckled and wrapped his arms around her.

The group took turns offering up their ideas- foreign names neither manager could pronounce, trendy names that the couple had already privately wrinkled their noses at, book and movie characters that meant nothing to them. Every suggestion was met with polite nods and tight smiles from the new parents, both secretly waiting to be alone so they could tell the other one little word: “No.”

Finally, Dani stepped forward, looking particularly proud. “Dani,” he said simply.

Bucky shot Roy a quizzical look before turning back to the Greyhound. “That’s your name,” she reminded him.

“I know,” he chuckled, all smiles and sunshine. “It would be so fun if you name her after me!”

“No,” Roy said flatly. “It wouldn’t.” His voice brightened. “Besides, she’s already got a name.”

Before the group could ask what it was, Bucky whirled around to look at Roy with narrowed eyes. “Oh, she does, does she, Coach?” the very pregnant coach scoffed at her husband.

The footballers braced themselves for a fight, remembering the bickering they’d witnessed before the two managers finally got together. They were ready for the shouts and swears, and a good heaping of sexual tension. A few of them were already grimacing at the memories of the arguments that echoed around the Dog Track during those first tumultuous months.

“’course she does,” Roy hummed, reaching down to rub Buck’s belly. “It’s Brandi. For Brandi Chastain,” he clarified unnecessarily.

There it was, that wide, red-lipped smile, the one that still sent Roy’s heart into overdrive. She wrapped her arms around Roy, pulling him as close as her stomach would allow. He chuckled and returned the embrace tightly.

“We like the name?” he whispered into her hair, allowing himself to forget about the fact that their teams were watching them. All he wanted to think about right now- alright forever- was his little family.

Bucky pulled back, revealing the tears in her eyes- a rare sight. “We fucking love the name,” she assured him. She tugged him towards herself so she could kiss his lips. “She’s got no choice but to wear the number six now.”

The two held each other, lost in their little world, thinking of the precious little girl that would be coming soon, whose first word would be ‘fuck’, who’d be kicking a football the moment she could walk, who’d grow up on the pitch, with the loudest parents in the world. A little girl who would be so loved- by her parents, by two football squads- it was ridiculous.

Dani cleared his throat, bringing the new parents out of their daydreams. “Or,” he said pointedly. “Maybe we could revisit the name Dani?”

[lightsoutletsgo]

Congrats on 500 followers! Such an exciting milestone! Can I ask for a celebration ship (ideally 2 lol)? I’d describe myself as introverted, intellectual, and a walking shitpost lol I love music (literally all kinds), books (I have a booktube channel), coffee, video games, and touching grass. I’m plus size and I go to the gym everyday and I’ve been doing archery for almost 25 years (I’m not as old as that makes me sound; I’ve been shooting for most of my life) and I am an Olympic-style competitor (I’m not good enough for the Olympics yet, but a girl can dream). I have a degree in English lit/creative writing and I work in the legal field. My friends would describe me as the dependable one, the one who always shows up, the one who gives the beat hugs, and the one most likely to go to war on their behalf. In a partner I look for someone I can laugh A LOT with, someone who can talk about literally anything and who is interested in lots of things, and someone who REALLY likes cuddling.

Thank you so much in advance! Your work is so good and I’m so excited to keep reading. Here’s to another 500!

🏹 anon

hello love! thank you so so much for sending in your request! omg you sound so interesting and cool 😭 I really had to do a little thinking about who I was gonna put you with 👀 but I think I got it? happy reading! mimi

LEWIS HAMILTON ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you darling and love - loves, loves, LOVES your thighs! they're so cosy and comfy. he's also obsessed with your hips - his love language is physical touch and acts of service - nothing he loves more than a cuddle session with you and he is a firm believer that there's nothing a cuddle can't fix

as an athlete himself, lewis knows how much time and dedication you have to put into becoming one of the best and so he loves supporting you on your journey for that. he comes to as many practices and competitions as he can and he loves to offer up his physiotherapist for you to use too! of course now and again he loves to try things out himself and rather annoyingly it doesn't take him long to get the hang of it! of course it's always nice seeing his arms and hands flex when he tries so do you actually mind?

the two of you spend plenty of evenings listening to music together whether it's new tunes on spotify or golden oldies on vinyl. lewis loves to gently tap out the rhythms on your hands and hips as he holds them and it's easily a soothing motion that helps if you ever get overwhelmed while out with him.

lewis understands that your job can be stressful and so he loves to help you unload as much as he can at the end of the day. if he's far away he's right there on facetime, smiling at you as you cuddle with roscoe on the couch and rant to him. or if he's in person, he's offering a back massage, shoulder massage, starting to make dinner and telling you to go an shower the day away while he puts your cosy clothes in the dryer.

"love?" lewis emerges from the garden where he's been doing a light workout, "where'd you go?" he's not concerned at the lack of response, he knows you've had a lot of work you've been focusing on lately and so he surmises you've probably fallen asleep somewhere. roscoe is nowhere to be found either, having grown bored of watching lewis' workout halfway through and plodding back into the house, so lewis knows he'll find the two of you curled up either on the couch or the bed.

walking through the living room, the couch is empty and so he heads straight for the bedroom. he quietly opens the door, smiling to himself at the sound of your heavy breathing and roscoe's snoring. he closes the door and showers as fast as he possibly can. his body craving yours and needing to be close to you. once he's showered, he emerges into your shared bedroom once more, pulling his sweatpants on and carefully sliding into bed behind you. wrapping an arm around you, you shift in your sleep, nose wrinkling slightly as you're disturbed. it doesn't take more than a soft 'shhh' and kiss to the head from lewis before you're settled once more, body naturally wriggling closer to him a little more as you seek his body heat. lewis closes his eyes with a happy hum. this is his favourite place.

࿐ ࿔*:･ﾟ

CHARLES LECLERC ᝰ.ᐟ₊ ⊹ - calls you mon amour or mon ange - charles loves your smile! whether it's your soft half-asleep smile first thing in the morning or a massive grin that greets him when he gets home after a long triple-header - his love language is quality time - he could spend hours praising you for the smallest things, just to watch the way you melt and flourish under his love and adoration. to him, you're a goddess!

charles loves that you're his shy little bookworm! he's that much in love with you that he's turned one of the big windows of his monaco apartment into your reading nook; complete with cosy chair, shelves, lighting and a small coffee table with a mug warmer to keep your coffee at the right temperature all the time! one of his favourite ways to pass the time when he's home is to sit and play piano while you read. he tells you it's a good exercise in practicing different styles and emotions of song. he'll ask you what mood the scene you're reading is and start playing accordingly.

he loves to watch you make videos for your youtube channel and often adds his opinion. your followers love it so much that it turns into a regular weekly segment on your channel! charles is in awe that your degree is in creative writing and is summoning up the courage to ask you to write a bedtime story he can gift and read to his niece for her birthday.

he knows you're the dependable friend, he sees it in the way you are with the people around you. but he also knows that that can sometimes be a little tiring and difficult when you yourself are struggling and so he becomes your dependable person. he loves being able to do the little things for you to make it easier.

the rain gently patters against the window of your apartment as grey clouds roll over the harbours of monaco. but here in your apartment with charles, it's warm and cosy and homely. it's a rare weekend that he's home and you've been spending time existing together. you've been reading while he plays piano, a new composition brewing in his head and now in his phone voice memos but now a sleepy atmosphere is settling over the apartment.

charles leans against the big L-shaped couch as you lay in-between his legs. his hands gently run up and down your sides as you lazily hum the tune he was playing barely five minutes earlier. he lets out a breath of laughter and smiles down at you, one hand coming up to stroke your head as you tilt your head up. he stares at you for a moment, just enjoying having you in his lap. his finger gently traces your face. across your cheeks, up your nose, across your bottom lip. he grins at you, completely lovesick as your eyelashes flutter shut and you sigh. leaning down he kisses you softly once, then again and once more.

[anlian-aishang]

SNK Men - Rebounding With You - Eren, Armin, Jean, Levi, Erwin, Reiner, Zeke

// snk x reader, angst turned fluff, allusions to smut, alcohol mention, food mention, hurt-comfort, modern AU, gn!reader. // while writing this, i listened to  // read also: Rebounding After You

Eren

A messy bun. Freshly pierced gauges. All black - shoelaces to earrings. Clearly, he had been through something. The look in his emerald eyes warned others to stay away, but you were not like the others, not just another.

His outfit screamed don’t talk to me, but all you could think of was how much nicer he would look without it. Long swigs of his drink demanded his lips, you wondered how he would react if you threw his highball to the floor and put your mouth in its place. His hair was unkempt, tangled, yet you yearned to run your fingers through it. From across the bar, you eyed him up like a tiger would a steak, oblivious to the fact that he could tell you were.

Eren let you have your fun, but flashed you a side-eye and a smirk at just the right time. After a couple seconds of eye contact, you snapped out of your trance and shot your stare straight down. Fuck. Steel soled boots approaching, you knew it could only be one person. Fuck me! And when he cinched your chin between his fingers and drew your gaze to him, he knew it could only be one person. One person to lift him out from the rut he was in. One person who could overpower their taste even more than the alcohol. One person whose scent he not dare wash off his clothes. 

He did not have to tell you what he was using you for. It was obvious each time he groaned against your neck, each time he flipped you on your knees and slammed into your furthest depths. After a few weeks, though, you began to question his intentions. More than just a one night stand? The toothbrush he bought you, your phone’s charger on his nightstand, they communicated the sentiment he would never say.

Armin

You had an educated guess. Over the days, his outfits so persistently ironed had grown increasingly wrinkled. In meetings, he was even quieter than usual. Times you expected him to speak up, his lips stayed shut. Topics that would normally enrapture him failed to draw even a sliver of attention. It was so obvious to you, but apparently not to anyone else. 

Armin left the space with speed, but without any particular hurry. Not looking to socialize, but not looking for conversation, either. So swift, you could not keep up. When you instinctively reached and grabbed his shoulder, it startled you both, “A-Armin!” 

He turned rapidly - not mad, just concerned. You could not remember exactly what you said, for you had wanted to say a lot of things. Out to lunch? Are you free? Come over some time? You’re single, right? Eventually, you stumbled your way to a new book you had been reading, one that made you think of him - no, not that - made you think he might like it. It was awkward, but you got there: a two-person book club, meeting every Friday afternoon.

And soon, he returned to the ironing board. He slicked his comb with gel and shined his shoes back up to standard. There was something - someone - to dress for again. Someone to be excited over. Someone to distract him from the past few miserable months. Someone who taught him how to love again - Friday by Friday.

Books turned to movies. Movies to dinners. Dinners to dates. The things that reminded him of his ex were overrun by reminders of you. As you grew closer, they grew further, until you were all he saw.

Jean

Jean startled when you hugged him, but hours later, he admitted it felt nice. Accidentally brushing against you on the sidewalk, guilt at first, gratitude to follow. When you leaned in, he widened his eyes, then closed them, telling himself just one kiss. Just until he got over it. 

Your flirtation was not subtle, but he was happy to indulge. Each text sent and received alleviated some sting. Minutes with you were minutes he was free from his heartache. Every time and everywhere you touched him, you adhered a bandage to a scar left behind. Eventually, he was covered in band-aids, bound to fall off every now and then. He had always heard that one should not talk about an ex to their partner, but he had never been through a break-up like this. You had only been dating for a few weeks, but you could already tell that Jean wore it on his sleeves, he just couldn’t help himself. 

When he started to open up, you let him. It was not that you tolerated it, but you yearned to learn all about him, even if it was about his former lover. Sometimes, he choked up when talking about them. Sometimes, he said good things about them. Most others would have told him to get over it, but that thought never came to your mind. Each time he appreciated them, it showed you how attentive he was. When tears fell, you understood how deeply he felt things. Maybe most would have found it scary, but you found the opposite scarier. If he was able to get over them quickly, how quickly could he get over you - god forbid - if the time came? He harbored no ill will towards his ex, not a spiteful bone in his body. Though the relationship had come to an abrupt end, his care was not so easily severed. 

He was a good boy, now your boy. You were determined to show him how good you could be, too.

Levi

Relationships were foreign to him. Rebounds, even more so. On his balcony, cup of tea in hand, he overlooked the streets below, sipping and resigned to the fact that this just wasn’t for him. It was exactly what they had said when they left - they just weren’t for him. A deep inhale and slow exhale, chai steam evaporated, they were right, after all. 

His friends, coworkers even, watched him go from stoic to saddened, irritable to impossible. For their own sake, they tried to set him up, but that only seemed to aggravate him all the more. He scolded them as he did himself, “Just face it, I already have too many idiots to deal with.” 

Months and months dragged on, and everyone was beginning to believe he was damned to be a bachelor - him more than anyone. Not the typical playboy kind, but the kind who ate alone, kept to himself, and whose Friday nights were spent buying groceries and stopping at the local tea shop - their most loyal regular. 

Which was why, when he forgot cash at the cash-only establishment, you subtly bagged his purchases and slid the paper bag across the counter. Flat brows to a rare arch, you stole the words out of his mouth, “No. I insist.”

Levi, still cold, attempted to snarl on his way out, but the light bell chime on the door and your warm smile in his wake melted his grunt to a soft sigh. Since that night, he found himself stopping by more often, always the weeknights that you worked. When closing time came around, he lingered and eventually offered to help. While mopping, you caught him swaying to your playlist. As you counted the till, he noticed the upward glances you snuck between bills. 

To you, a fairy tale. To him, ridiculous. One fateful night, a torrential rainfall kept you both locked in. Just the two of you. You split stale pastries, invented new drinks, shared secrets, including that midnight kiss. Your lips tasted of matcha and powdered sugar, a taste he believed was right for him. 

Erwin

A nice dinner. Too nice. Roses. Candlelight. A table with city views. Not a fold out of place, not a falter in his movements. Erwin spoke so politely, you wondered if he had rehearsed, or were you dreaming? The six-figure salaryman, you knew he would be professional, but this was suspiciously perfect. He acted as though there was a deal to be closed, an asset he desperately needed, one only you could provide. 

You had no power over him, at least, not inherently. Tall, dark, handsome, what did he have to be afraid of? What could have gotten to him? Subtly, while he ate, you examined the man opposite you. Hair perfectly slickened. Tie fastened just right. Smartphone tucked neatly in his breastpocket. Funny, how it had not gone off the whole meal. 

Wait. Wasn’t he a businessman? Where was his watch? Of all men to wear a watch, Erwin Smith should have been at the top of that list. An odd discomfort nicked you: seeing a dog without a collar, a fence with some knots undone. His keys. Two copies of the same keys? Seriously, who needs two mail keys? On the same ring, nonetheless. 

He could sense it, your realization. He figured you would catch on eventually, that was why he picked you in the first place - a good head on your shoulders, one to catch his tells. A relationship freshly severed. You were the rebound. Your lips parted at the thought, but slowly grew content, a thankful smirk even. Whoever fucked up before you was to thank - having landed you a date with the sector’s wealthiest figure - on his best behavior. 

It was then that you knew what you were and what you had. For him: a way to forget failed ventures. For you: a man of dreams wrapped around your finger.

Reiner

In his presence, your intentions were pure. A friend to him, that was what you were. A shoulder to cry on. Always available whenever he needed a night out, always picking up the phone and listening to his slurred words. A smile and a laugh the morning after. Wholesome you always pulled through.

At night, alone in bed, you could not tether your mind from its dirtier ideas. You wanted to slap away his stupid thoughts. Don’t you know they didn’t love you? They didn’t deserve you. Hell, you don’t deserve them! When you first kissed him, your tongue would wipe away their leftover taste. Before he could even begin a fresh start, your flavor would be down his throat.

You had been good friends since college, able to read each other effortlessly. Knowing he was finally single, though, made you blind to the fact that he suffered the same inner battle. Reiner had an appreciation for your platonic care, you had always made him laugh the most - far more than they ever did - no matter how down he was feeling. The teasing ruffle of his hair he needed. The punch on the arm. You provided it all, he loved it all.

After a few weeks, though, that was not what he craved. Your friendship had brought him back from the brink, but now, he wanted to feel high again. In daylight, you told him that he deserved to feel happy. At night, he heard you whisper that he deserved to feel good. Both of you were so opposite in sunlight and in moonlight, but thank god for twilight. Lunches together bled into evenings, and when you witnessed the other sides of each other, you both recognized that there was more to your days than friendship. 

Zeke

Zeke got you with all the right things, all the words and actions that were textbook for starting a relationship. You had to admit, his skills were formidable, but he was no match for you - the first to see through his tactics.

You let him have his fun. The hard and fast kiss, the overnight, the seemingly mindless text exchanges. You knew you were more, though. You knew you were convincing him of it. You could tell he was learning. Kissing you, he felt compelled to take his time, to take breaths between, to decorate the spaces with words from the heart rather than a guidebook. Nights together no longer had one objective, but were eaten up by movies, take-out, and long talks. Texts became phone calls. Phone calls became face to face meetings, then dinners, then rooftop conversations. 

Eventually, Zeke admitted that there had been someone not long before you. You put your arm around his back, nodded, and bit your lip - having figured that out from the start. He came clean with his intentions, that he did not go looking for someone to settle down with, but someone to help him get over them. Looking to you, uncharacteristic panic in his gaze, he said that he found both in you. 

He expected you to leave him then, just as suddenly as they had, but unlike all the others - you managed to toss his surprises back at him. This time, you were the one to push your lips hastily to his. Shocked but swiftly, he wrapped his arms around you. His cheeks turned red, his hands began to shake, never had he felt this way about anyone before. In that way, you were his first. He prayed that breakup would be his last. 

// masterlist //

[soraviie]

they're a homewrecker.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation ━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ about: fluff, angst, a bit smutty, way too h*rny in the descriptions, non-idol! au so keep that in mind

━ a/n: discusses themes of cheating, broken and unhappy relationships and seduction so switch off your moral compasses, it's not a red flag if you're colourblind

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: Life is a peculiar type of mundane at "Borges" and though at times Namjoon is strangely content, other times he's ripping his hair from the scalp just to feel something. So when he finally gets a co-worker, he's over the moon already. He doesn't care if it's an old lady or a guy fresh out of high school. He'll take anyone to help, to wander the narrow shelves of this overrun bookstore. And then it's you.

You

And he's a goner.

Every day he's a goner.

Because for the first time he can talk about things he likes and is not told to shut up. And in his defence, he only discovers you have a partner when he's too far gone. The paper around the flowers rustles as he clutches the tulips nervously - ready to finally ask. And then the bell rings above the doors and you turn around, greeting the stranger.

"Hello, love."

He swiftly hides the flowers behind his back, pretending to be thoroughly immersed in the book registry as you kiss the stranger on the cheek. And that kiss shatters his heart into shards that still bleed.

The way your partner's eyes glint, he knows they know. Know of this ugly thing Namjoon has been unknowingly harbouring, a rotten seed with no flowers, no fruits. But you don't look happy and he knows your happiness - you are one when you're with him.

"You never told me you're dating," he lightly remarks, fingers running along the printed QR codes meant to take the scanner to the bookstore's website. It's been a sleepless, dreadful night. His skin had burned as though fevered but he was not sick. Not physically at least.

"It's not...something I like to share," you reply and there's that wrinkle between your brows. He wants to kiss it away.

You're unloved, plainly so.

And it's all unfair.

It's not in Namjoon's nature to be unfair, cruel even and malicious but his skin is burning and he mutters faint apologies in the wind.

But your partner should have appreciated a good thing when they had one.

It's hard to resist Namjoon already as it is, you find out, but you promised. Or at least you think you had. You don't know what your "love" is doing all you know is that this is becoming ridiculous. Why you haven't broken up yet is beyond a mystery, perhaps because they were the first one ever to ask or perhaps to not disappoint your parents. But that promise, all reasons are wearing thin because of Namjoon.

You sigh, partly dreamily, partly heavy. You don't know who made him, who created a man so fine, but you want to curse them and whatever fate sent you his way. This was a cruel test of your morality. And it doesn't help that he seems to goad you further. His sharp and angled eyes previously so captivated by books now are drawing webs around you like a spider. And so you sigh once more. This is wrong.

If only that would wash this away.

With strong arms, sly looks and obstinate determination, he commits to sin. Woos you in every way he can, knows how to. Flowers, poems, walks back home along the river, coffee dates, praise and oftentimes giving you this look. Sitting with legs sprawled across the sofa, tan skin glowing in the sun, he gives you this look, the one that says you can have it all if you just take it. But taking is wrong. Taking is bad.

But who will tell Namjoon that when he's committed?

He stands right beside you, towering tall and sort of feverish, in the small space you can feel the heat of his body practically sweltering. It's really hard to breathe, let alone think.

"We uh...got a new shipment of uh...Octavia Butler, we should," he takes a step closer while you take one away, your back hitting against the bookshelf. You can't think at all and he leans down to ghost his lips across yours. Please let this be a dream, a nightmare anything.

"You can't," it falls broken from your mouth.

"I shouldn't," he corrects. "Doesn't mean I can't. That I won't."

He's so passionate like fire almost, enveloping you whole as he pushes you up the bookshelf. Books fall as it rattles but neither of you care.

"This is wrong," you try to object but it's too faint to be of any sort of argument. He's kissing your neck and for the first time in any relationship, you hum with life as his fingers trail over your bottom lip, prying it open so he could kiss you once more. Drown you into himself.

"Maybe," he murmurs, wrapping one arm around your waist and pushing you closer, already impossible given how he's everywhere. There's not an inch not burning, not kissed and adored. "But you should be treated better than that. So let me show you better."

YOONGI: Never had anyone known Yoongi to be partial to injustice. To save a tiresomely long monologue they would say, in frank, like Yoongi himself would, he tried to not be a dick. For most of his life, he thought that those walking brainrots weaselling their way into someone else's relationship were nothing but worms, maggots feasting on someone else's gain because they could get nothing done by themselves but now...

After you...

Everything has changed.

Or well perhaps Yoongi himself was secretly a maggot, who knows. He didn't as he was doing things now he never thought he would.

"You lost, kitten?" he rasps, leaning against the wall. Already by your face, he knows you can tell he's up to no good. It's what you had - a mutual understanding. And a mutual flight of stairs to be shared in sickness and in health.

"Turn your music down," you say with a smile that clearly wants to kill him. He says if you want to kill him, go ahead but at least kiss him first.

"Come in here and turn it down yourself."

He actually absolutely loathes the shit that he's been saying. It's right down disgusting to himself as he's never untoward, merely teasing for now. He remembers coming to this very flight of stairs late at night only to find you crying. He doesn't know how many people walked past but you had merely scooched to the side, expecting him to go about his business like you were a ghost. No, less than that - nothing at all.

"Why are you crying?" it was perhaps a dumb thing to ask but one straight to the point. You were surprised by him noticing you but grateful. And at that moment his heart pulsed with pain. No one should be grateful for the bare minimum.

"You ever think you're losing your life right in front of yours?"

"All the time," he replied. "But I'm a depressed bastard. Why do you feel that way?"

"I don't know. I just feel like I could do more... I want to write...but publishers and then my partner says who cares...and maybe no one does."

The sentences make little sense to Yoongi but nevertheless, he understands that no one has talked to you for a very long time. It's gushing out of you like a river unbound.

"Hey, I care," he interjects.

"But you're a stranger!"

"Can strangers not care?"

And for a second Yoongi thought he thought he found a kindred soul in the eyes staring up at him only then the doors to your apartment open and a head pops through, snaps at you to come inside and stop talking to weird strangers.

Yoongi never liked his neighbours, but he began to loathe this one.

"And step inside your man cave?" you scoff. "No, thank you. You've probably got cockroaches crawling all over that place."

He ignores the low-hanging fruit involving the word cock. Alas, he hadn't fallen that down his morals to make lame jokes.

"It's perfectly clean, doll. Both my apartment and me."

"Well, it also should be quiet," you dryly remark. He loves when you do that. But he loves everything about you. Sometimes he thinks he's crazy. Just yesterday he had to stop himself from spraying your perfume bottle whose tester he found at the store just to have some semblance of what would it feel like to be with you. Your perfume mixing in with his clothes. Your shampoo in his towels.

"My head hurts."

He doesn't need to be told twice to turn it down.

He doesn't know what to do. How do homewreckers operate? Is there a plan to it? Or is it their wily charms? Yoongi never knew how to be charming, he just was and sometimes people liked it. All he knows he wants to care for you.

When he finds you inevitably crying again, this time over torn papers, he doesn't say anything just takes you by the hand and leads you into his apartment.

"I'll make some food," is all he says as you sit, unsure, by his kitchen table.

"You have books..." you rasp, voice a splintered gravel. Clearly having wept for a long time.

"Did you think I couldn't read?" he chuckles lightly.

"A bit. I thought you were in a gang."

He laughs some more.

"You're a judgmental little one, aren't you?"

But Yoongi's apartment indeed is clean, well furnished and even homey, you would say. He is a strange man. One you were fancying quite a lot to the point that for some reason the latest character, simultaneously both the villain and the hero, begins to bear too much resemblance to your music loving neighbour.

"What are you writing there?" he points with the laddle at the torn paper.

"It's just a...silly old story," automatically, you defend. Lounging around constantly writing was in no way a respectable career, one neither your parents, your partner or their parents supported. In fact, they tore it down to the point where you had no place to write, certainly not in the comfort of your own home.

"May I read it?"

If any one of you should venture a guess, this was the breaking point. Personally, Yoongi doesn't care if he's a homewrecker, home destroyed, home burner, anything to get you out of there. With him, you bloom like a flower in the spring. The book, a tragic crime novel, is the best he's ever read as he works together with you, draft after draft, and it's nearly finished. It's a stable routine now - he offers his heart, his own home, his mind for you to work, to bloom in peace. And it's almost like you're his girlfriend. Your shampoo is on his pillow, your perfume on his clothes, and your cunt squeezes him tight as he pounds into you so hard, this very kitchen table is giving it all to not break.

"You're so beautiful," he groans, pulling you by the hair closer, impossibly closer as you moan into the chilly air. Even now he wants more of you. He wants to be yours. But he can't. So for now he pulls you closer. Closer, closer, closer. So close you can't leave.

He can't sink his teeth into your neck, can't leave any marks of what transpires but he can drip his every thought like honey down your body.

"So pretty, so perfect, want to see you scream, baby."

And he no longers cares if it's wrong or right at all. He has to be with you otherwise there will be a part of him that will never recover. Perhaps it's crazy but it's the truth.

JIN: It's not exactly what Jin intended. Neither his feelings, neither your status, nor you being unappreciated bugging him so. He'd known you for a while but it's not the fact of when or how this started that he's invested in. No, all he really needs to know is what to do further. Pursuing someone in a committed relationship was certainly no badge of honour but neither is leaving them to wilt away before everyone's eyes. Neither is to choke on his own feelings to preserve honour. Either way, he'll lose something and he'd rather lose some of his reputation than lose happiness altogether.

Jin is beautiful but he's also nice. He's polite. He's not stuck up. He's gentle.

And he's single and you're not so it shouldn't be a thought in your head but you can't shake it altogether. It's an event, high-brow and boring and Jin is sitting quietly in his seat, gaze glazed and distant but then your eyes meet and his lips bloom into a soft smile. He adjusts his glasses and a sense of mutual understanding is established. You could make a conversation with him only with eyes.

"Man, this sucks," says he.

"You're going to stay there in the corner for the whole night?" you ask, pointing the glass at his figure.

"It's safe here. What about you? Where's your other burden?"

The burden is described as a faint circle drawn by a finger and an annoyed scowl. You laugh. You shouldn't this is your partner after all but you laugh because it's the truth.

"Not here."

Something about that drives Jin to walk. He doesn't particularly feel bad as he already decided that this is what he was going to do. He sits beside you.

"I wouldn't leave a beauty like you alone not a single day," he remarks as you slide your chair to give him space.

You flush.

"Well, of course, you can't leave yourself," you deflect and he laughs.

"Have you tried the roasted duck?"

"No. I need to...fit into these outfits."

He frowns.

"As a doctor, it's my duty to tell you it's an absolute horseshit."

He shouldn't make cursing this hot but he does.

"I'll fetch you a portion, just sit here."

The next time you meet him it's at the club, a party of one of the mutual friends and you thought he'd be situated at the corner once more, given his proclivity for introverted nature but unfortunately for you, he's not. Rather he's in front of you, hands on your waist both of you moving to the rhythm if a little uncoordinated. This is an entirely new side of the usually light-hearted doctor. The dance is almost the joke but not the way he's looking at you, softly with a smile but also with some spark of want. The way his eyebrows lift slightly, the way he tracks your movements, receiving your every laugh with the same enthusiasm you exuded. It's like a shared joke or a harmless game. But it's not harmless. You've got to return home not to Jin but to someone else.

You manage to get away but it leaves you cold. No joke to be had, except falling for a man while in a relationship. But to break it off you'd have to have enough time with your "honey", your bitter, bitter "honey". Who also makes you bitter.

"Hey, ____________, what are you doing here?" Jin questions, rushing over. Apparently, it was an unspoken rule if there's a friend in a family whose a doctor at a local clinic you have to bother him. Though this was an entirely different story, not one involving twisted ankles and whatnot.

"May I talk to you? Privately?" it's not exactly inconspicuous the way nurses stare at you.

"Of course," he agrees, leading to his office. "Did you acquire a booboo good doctor needs to make better?" he jokes but that spark is there.

"Tell me you hate me or that I'm a skank, a vile, repulsive person."

"I will not be saying that now or ever," he states sternly. Sterness is not a quality often seen on him but it's too damn attractive either way.

"I like you."

"Wonderful, I like you too."

"I'm in a relationship!"

"Dump them."

"What?"

He draws a deep breath.

"I've been in love with you quite a while, so I can't stand here and say you're bad for liking me when that's what I've been dreaming of. What I can stand here and say is...dump them. Not even for me but for yourself. You deserve so much more, so, so much more of everything and not these scraps you're being tossed. Do better for yourself."

"Would you still accept me?"

"_____________, darling, if not for our situation, I'd have you all over this office, time and time and again. On all birthdays and Wednesdays, when you feel lonely and when you feel like the most attractive person in the world. I want you now, I want you tomorrow and I wanted you yesterday, for all that you are, will be and fear to become."

Your breath shudders.

"I know it's not right but neither is seeing you wither away."

HOSEOK: You feel yourself on the verge of exhausted tears. You're not sad per se but just tired. And he stands there like a promise you desperately want to make. Make and keep. But you're yanked away before you can do any of that.

Fuck, if apples looked anything like Jung Hoseok you'd too eat from the forbidden tree.

You can't even breathe around him sometimes, it's like a crush but also falling towards a glowing diamond cliff at breakneck speeds. And perhaps you shouldn't but it only makes him so much hotter when he's cursing out your partner. For being low, for being despicable, manipulative trash and all those little thoughts and resentments you feared to speak out loud find a voice in him.

It's almost funny how his brows slant, the sheer death in his eyes as he glares at your partner when spotting you with your nose down, shrinking into the corner and the way he's with you, like he couldn't hurt a fly - all smiles and dimples and gentleness. He wants better for you, he wants you to be better but for yourself. You'd never met anyone who wanted you to improve this bad and who believed you could.

Hoseok personally didn't even comprehend what he was doing. Every time he met that trash of a human he not only saw red, he became red. Never before he thought he would spit so heinously at anyone but something in the cruelty towards someone he held most dear drove him straight unhinged.

He splashes his face with cold water and looks into the mirror.

"What are you doing?" he asks himself. "You know what you are, right?"

But a home can't be a place where you're made miserable. Home is comfort. And with that thought in mind, Hoseok swears to himself he'll make you a home somewhere just not with that motherfucker.

"Thank you for all of this," you bid him quietly, in half-lidded gratitude and he waves you off.

"You deserve the world."

"Oh, this, this area is charming," he points at your collarbones, on yet another getaway. This time on shopping for summer. He says he needed to get things as well. Things can be time with you well spent. Any time was well spent if you were away from that motherfucl-

"My collarbones?" you ask with blush and he swallows. Everything about you makes him teem with this sound almost. It makes him go, go, go. Whenever, wherever but to you in the end.

"Of course. But then again every area of you is charming." He has to turn away to hide the blush of his own but he's glad he said it, it's the truth.

It's all a bit of a happy blur and then fueled by alcohol he stops dreaming and starts doing. And your lips taste of club soda and heaven and personally the petty, sharp and terribly jealous part of himself is very gleeful at your stupid's partner's face as he watches their partner be properly kissed in front of everyone. He has half the mind to not start ripping your clothes off right there and then.

Unfortunately, he's shoved off you before he can, crazy or sane.

"You think I'm going to stand here as you grope my partner?"

"Don't fucking stand!" Hoseok snarls back, becoming red as he always had. "Sit down! You know where else you'll be sitting? At my fucking wedding reception when I marry this angel, you motherfu-!"

Before he can brave the fist flying his direction, it's stopped by a slap so hard it resounds throughout the club. Quite the achievement.

"Piss off," you yell back and Hoseok has never felt such pride. "We're done!"

Seeing the insane dedication in both of your eyes, they leave with a "whore" under breath but no one graces that remark.

"Hoseok," you begin, out of breath. "You're- hmph!"

He spins you by the waist and almost devours you whole. No waiting. No yearning. All mine, he thinks.

"You're home now," he whispers, gasping a short breath and then plunging once again.

JIMIN: Is staying strong even an option when this siren is coming after you? All sly eyes and knowing smiles he cares not that you should be with someone else. Worse of all he cares not even for the chase or the thrill but only for your happiness. And he makes you happy though you hate him so. How dare he make you feel all these things? How dare he be both an angel and the devil that sits on your shoulders all day long whispering praises and invitations.

You can all but scream into the pillow to relieve some frustration. Jimin screams as well, at least the good side of him but the little monster at first small and timid, purring away like a demure kitten, is practically yowling in happiness. It doesn't give a single shit it makes him chase after a nearly married person, it doesn't give a single shit at all, it wants and it'll have what it wants.

"You're crazy, you've gone mad," he scolds himself, tossing and turning in bed. But that doesn't stop him in the slightest, not his hand inching down with images of you streaming behind his eyes and neither does it stop any of what happens after.

He takes off his sunglasses, greets you in the middle of the stairs and leans down, your lips right against his.

"Hello, I've missed you," he smirks and your breath hitches which only makes him practically purr. If there's one thing he knows how to do it's to put on a show.

You clutch the water bottle, sweating like a sinner at a church. All around him there are whispers of how they want him, everyone wants him, fuck, it doesn't matter who you are, how strong you think you are, Park Jimin will ruin you. Why else were you here? What did you lose at a dance performance? Except for your sanity and the dryness of your underwear. Which would be fine, to be a nameless horny figure in the crowd such as this only meant to fit in, but he singles you out like a hawk. After every spin, every move, his eyes find yours and he's challenging you - to look away, to be morally pure and do the right thing that you always insisted you should do. But you can't. Siren's song has captured your ears and you can only listen to it from now on.

He says he's feeling shy to the cheering audience as that long, pointed tongue darts to wet his lips all while maintaining unbroken eye contact.

At this moment, Jimin, ludicrous and dazed and burning with want, thinks it's not that bad in retrospect to let monsters win sometimes.

And then he points that long tongue, the chief object of your dreams and terror right in between two fingers whilst scrutinizing your very soul. It should be lewd, obscene, you should scoff at such a display but you can't help but to imagine and imagine, and sink deeper and deeper into his bloodless claws.

"Came to congratulate me?" he's for some reason beckoning you to enter deeper into the empty backstage as all the other performers had already left. Jacket sparkling, leather pants pressing tightly against the muscled legs.

"You're evil," you whisper, worn to the last thread. He's been driving you crazy without a sense of remorse for so long you don't even know what to do with him.

"No, babe, just cunning," he replied with a sharp smirk, twirling around you. "All's fair in love and war, ever heard that?"

"You don't love me."

"I love you, I love you, I love you," immediately he smiles, punctuating each word with a kiss laid haphazardly over your face, quite intentionally evading your mouth.

"I'm soon to be married."

"With some loser you don't even like," he scowls without trouble. "Choose me, have love, all night and day."

"I'll leave," you threaten, baselessly, there has never been such an empty threat in the existence. You had an ultimatum return home at once or don't and be a free person once more.

"Bold of you to assume, I'll let you," he smirks and spins you right into his arms.

"If you feel bad about being...excited for me," he tightens his grip, letting your head rest on his shoulder. "Know that I'm very, very excited for you as well."

He plays with the end of your shirt and that already makes your blood reach boiling point.

"I'm really quite sorry for being so ruthless with you, honey," he whispers, biting lightly on your neck. "And soon you'll get to know a softer side of me as well but really I couldn't let you get away."

TAEHYUNG: If watching anyone else's life, you'd almost think it was comedy. Sitting in a park, arguing with your partner as one does, having a very handsome stranger approach your bench and exclaim with a disarming smile:

"Break up! I want," he extends a colour-stained finger towards you. "You."

It's like he's not even real, more of a character from a movie. He sits and paints in the park every day, not always even talking with you but always acknowledging you with a warm smile. One day, out of the same breed of curiosity that killed the cat, you sneak up on him to take a peek at what he's working on, expecting a detailed painting of the nature around him but on the canvas there sit only squiggles.

"Eyy, I can sneak up on you too," he drawls with that friendly, misleadingly envious face. "I'll try it next time."

"Why draw squiggles?" you ask, thoroughly perplexed. Everything about this guy is just weird.

"It's art," he defends. "Art is interpretation." then:

"Did you break up with that tightie whitie? I'm getting impatient, darling."

You opened your mouth to send him over the hills but somehow it ends with you exchanging phone numbers.

"Thinking of you xxx," says he underneath a selfie with his dog as you tuck yourself in, your partner thankfully nowhere in sight. You didn't know where they were these days.

"Goodnight. Tannie also says goodnight."

As you try not to smile at this clearly disturbed individual, laying in bed, kicking your feet like a lovesick teenager, you don't even notice the perfume of someone else lingering on the sheets.

Taehyung puts the phone down, a blissed smile on his face. Tannie barks.

"Don't judge me," he pouts. "If you'd know what I know, you also wouldn't feel bad. Besides, a good boy can do something bad. Just once, right?"

Tannie rolls his eyes and drops onto the bed again.

He is bold and he's certain without a shadow of a doubt that he can wrap you around that not-so-innocent finger of his. And he's sort of right.

"You don't even know me," you laugh during yet another one of your meetings in the parks. Dates. They are dates but you can't call them that. It would make it sound...incriminating. He leans in, all convinced with wide, determined eyes.

"I know you. I saw you in a dream."

"That's nonsense!"

"Is it? What about when you see me in your dreams? And..." he trails off never saying but insinuating and it makes you flush all over.

And maybe you do see him in a dream and feverishly please yourself, dreaming of his smile and thick fingers, grasping so readily, so barren of fear. He always looks like he's ready to eat you.

"Oh, there you are!" he greets you bounding across the park and launching himself on top of you - arms, legs, everything wrapping around you like a net. "I want to show you something."

An adult such as yourself shouldn't giggle but you do and you find yourself looking at a painting that isn't squiggles anymore. It's abstract for sure but captivating. Like this weird man.

"You like it?" he coos, gently nuzzling himself into the side of your face.

"I do. It's like you."

Taehyung takes up every corner of the mind but you even more so of his.

He can only beam at every glance you toss his way, every stretch of your hand, life itself suddenly gains new flavour, poems - their meaning. He can only waltz around his house with Tannie in his hands, belting out some nonsense about how he's going to have two parents soon.

He pours his all into you with boldened gleam and shockingly cutthroat determination. You're his baby now, he knows his baby and his baby soon won't be with some cheating asshole who had bragged about it at a bar Taehyung may or may have not visited at the time.

JUNGKOOK: It's in the midst of despair, in the absolute agony of jealousy and self-pity, that the accursed idea crosses his mind. Really, it's just a thought. It's not like he has a working plan - step a: do this, step b: do this, it's just his want to be around you in any sort of capacity. Maybe so much so there wouldn't be a place in your perception left to think about his opponent. And in his defence, he met you, saw you and liked you first and you also liked him first.

All he really does is kicks up an absolute storm and offer himself over and over again. Really, he's bad at taking things, at least within a matter such as this but offering himself is not a hard choice at all.

Clinging all day long, doing everything asked and unasked he becomes your rock and more and more when you think of help, it's Jungkook's face that comes to mind. You think, assume, get delusional about it, but you think your friend's brother is trying to be a homewrecker. To be not aware of it is to be blind. The way his jaw tightens whenever your partner is mentioned, those eyebrows of his drawing into a frown, the way he becomes all soft and flustered whenever you pay special attention to him. It's so endearing that unwillingly you find yourself doing it more and more.

Everything about him is endearing but that's what you had always thought even when he was just a stinky, annoying older brother of your friend nagging you for snacks.

Definitely not endearing is this recent development. Piercings, tattoos, muscle gaining in all the right places. There's nothing endearing about this bratty demon running around, running his mouth about how he can do better - he can carry the trash better than your partner, cook breakfast better, please you better. That had earned a decisive slap to his man boobs but that didn't seem to bother him.

"How unfortunate," he reckons without a hint of supposedly felt misfortune in his voice. He's wearing one of his new shirts if they could be called that. Some flimsy cloth barely stretched over his body. Was it...oil? On his abs?

He's truly not one to understand, Jungkook.

The staircase to the attic is small, so narrow you have to stand pressed up against each other like sardines in a barrel. You can feel every muscle of that body flex, a fact you're certain he's doing on purpose.

"What was the point of nagging me to come with?" you whisper. It just doesn't feel right to speak normally in a small space such as this. "You can fetch the jars yourself."

"No, I need your dainty fingers," he objects. "Just not for the jars."

"You're gross," you push at him but it does squat.

"Lessen the smile on your face and maybe I'll believe you," he smirks.

He finds that once you get past feeling like a douchebag, this game too makes him quite driven. Then again everything about you makes him such.

"Correct me then," he threatens cockily at the end of the conversation. Over. The. Dinner. Table. With your own partner sitting right beside you. A shameless Jungkook is truly what the world didn't need to see. Or rather couldn't handle.

Night had befallen and at the end of the dinner, you're left to wash the dishes. You and Jungkook that is. He stands needlessly close to you, occasionally bumping you with his hip.

Then he turns to look at you. And just keeps staring

"Are there any more dish-"

The kiss is brief, barely a second, just a peck but it's still there and you get a whiff of his cologne and the softness of his lips and how that piercing digs into the side of your mouth.

"Cherry," he mutters to himself inexplicably and begins giggling, nose scrunched in a manner that should not be this adorable.

Another dinner another meeting of friends and it's a complete wreck.

"Hey, man, piss off, why don't you?"

Jungkook sizes them up with an all too cocky smile playing on his lips.

"Or what?" he says, rolling up the sleeves over his veined, tattoed arms.

It shouldn't be this hot.

"Smile, baby," he coos over the camera. "You look so cute!"

The words of your partner ring over and over again.

Do you like Jungkook?

"That's my pretty baby," he continues melting over the picture like it's the Mona Lisa when in reality it's just you eating ice cream. You genuinely don't think for Jungkook there's a difference.

"Lemme have a bite," he says, says not asks, before wrapping his lips around the watermelon icicle. It drips down his chin and it's really not of any help the way his tongue licks up every drop, pulling into a familiar frown when he liked the taste of something.

"We broke up," you blurt, trying to sound accusing but it doesn't quite fall out that way. Jungkook smiles, licking away the stray sugary drop.

"Finally," he ruffles your hair before bringing his nose up to yours, beaming from ear to ear, eyes falling, hooded and glazed, down to your lips. "RIP to him but I've never lost what I want."

© soraviii/soraviie 2022